#and ive truly taken everything good from that fic and added it to this new concpet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year ago

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Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company.

NAUR THESE FIRST THREE PARAGRAPHS TOOK ME OUT GOSH IVE FUCKING MISSED A GOOD OL KPOP FANFIC THAT JUST TRANSPORTS YOU INTO A WORLD THAT HAS NOTHING TO FUCKING DO WITH KPOP SO PRETTY SO WELL WRITEN SO VIVD HAS ME CRAZYYY

also the fact tumblr refused to let me reblog this on mobile is so L of them

Housing a wide array of honey, in sticks, jars, canisters and tubs, the honey shop has everything a bear like John could ever need, and that’s not even including all the hand made pottery that sits on the top shelves. Plants are speckled here and there, adding a floral scent to the sweetness in the air that’s inherent to the Queen B establishment.

HONEEEEEEEEYYYY STICKKKSSSSSSSSSSSS IM DEVASTATED

Johnny might be a big shot club owner and entrepreneur by night, but by day - especially in the comfort of Queen B’s - Johnny sees himself as more of a calm dude just trying to support a local business. Despite his attraction to you, he’d hate to put himself out there and make you uncomfortable - at your workplace no less - so in the months he’s been frequenting your establishment, your short interactions have only ever pertained to honey, and he can live with that.

NAH CUZ IVE BEEN READING DISGUSTING FILTHY YUCKY GROTY FICS (AFFECTIONATE) IVE FORGOTTEN WHAT THIS FELT LIKE

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well.

MOTHER I LOVE HIM

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional.

ASK;JFGASFG;ASFGFASFKLASF ASALSO HIS MONEY NAURRRRRRRRRR COMEDIAN JOHN FTW

He wonders again if that’s all he is to you, a regular, and Johnny finds himself putting his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, fiddling with the golden ring on his thumb. “It’s nice to be taken care of,” he says finally.

“Can I-” your voice draws his eyes, and he wonders what you might ask him. This is not part of your normal interactions, and he holds his breath waiting to see what might come of it. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid question.”

Johnny nods, looking around the perfect store. “Yeah. There’s a lot of expensive stuff in here, the pottery, the displays- I didn’t want to bring her in and be a bother so usually I pick stuff up before going to grab her from her school. It’s my day to babysit,” he explains, “and it’s nice to start it off with a little goodie bag.”

iM DEVASTATED I WILL NEVER RECOVER NEVER COPE

“Most little girls like bows, Uncle Big Bear,” you tell him, reaching for the yellow ribbons next to the register. But then your hands freeze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just called you Uncle Big Bear-”

OK THATS WHY THERE WAS AN UNCLE TAG HOUSE OF THE DRAGON HAS FOREVER RUINED ME I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA HAVE SOME WEIRD SHIT I WAS NOT READY FOR BUT IM GLAD I DENIED IT HAHAHHAHHAHA

“Trust me, It’s okay,” he tells you again. “Look, if you really feel bad about it, you can call me Johnny. You can say ‘most little girls like bows, Johnny’ and that will be fine by me. How’s that sound?”

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE FUCKING WALL

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

SLOW DOWN THERE CUB. FUCKING SHOOT ME.

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist.

FULLY DRAMATIC I WOULD DIE FOR THIS BABY GIRL

“Did you hear that, Winnie?” Johnny looks down at the cub in his arms. “You can choose which ones you want, but I promised your mom to only get twenty today. Do you think you can count to twenty for me while you grab your treats?”

😀💀✋ 20 HONEY STICKS????????????????????? SIR??????

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Uncle John wanted to know their names so he could go and gobble them up,” Winnie tells you, flashing a mischievous smile. “But I told him I could handle it. They might not like my ears, but they don’t know how to dress good either, so-” the cub shrugs, “how am I supposed to listen to girls who don’t know how to dress good?”

SHES THAT GIRL AND SHE KNOWS IT

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion.

JOHNNY I WANT YOU COME TO ME RIGHT NOW I CAN BE NICE TOO

“No need,” Johnny assures you, stepping forward and reaching up to grab the honey pot. You marvel at how tall he is- “Here,” he holds it out for you, “would you mind taking that to the till while we grab our twenty honey sticks?”

FUCKER REALLY BOUGHT 20 T W E N T Y HONEY STICKS FOR HIS NIECE your man could never

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

YOU CAN LITERALLY STEP ON ME I DONT CARE NO OVERSTEPPING NO THOUGHTS ONLY JOHN

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change.

nah but id be so overwhelmed lmao 😭😭😭

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

hE JUST ASKED TO DO A SPIN ASAS;FLIASFGASLGHFLIHGASFISAF'HAS FI AM MENTALLY UNWELLLLLLLLL NOPE NOPE NOPE

“I have charm?”

MISS ME WITH THAT BULLSHIT BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL RIGHT NOW YOU GONNA COME UP TO ME WITH THAT COYNESS STOP PLAYING I WILL SHOOT YOU

“I’m happy you came,” he smiles. “I wasn’t sure if asking you out while you were at work was a good idea, but, I guess after seeing you interact with Winnie, I just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

SAD;KJLFHA;SFASFHAFSLHLASFFS WINNIE MY UNKNOWING WINGMAN

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

AWIYFDIAS;LGUIASGDASDIUGAIS;DADADS I CAN BE A GOOD CUB TOO JOHN GIVE ME ONE CHANCE

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

ASFKJGSK;FASSFAS;KFJGASF;HGASF;SAG;SAFGAS;F NAHHHH I SQUEALLEEEDDD WHEN HE CALLED HER BEEE I WANNAAA BEE A BEEEEEEEE

You turn to Johnny and something comes over you. You want to say thank you, but the words themselves won’t suffice, so instead, you lean close, pressing your lips to his cheek. Johnny practically freezes, and when you pull away, you see a red lipstick stain on his skin.

BESTIES A GIRLS GIRL. A WIN FOR FEMINISM. MARK HIM. MARK HIM FOR ALL OF US. LIPSTICK STAIN ON FLEEEEEEEEEEEEEK

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

youUUU PLAYING TOO HARDDD

“Oh no,” Johnny says in an animated fashion, letting go of your waist to go help Winnie. “We can’t have that, can we?” He lifts his niece up, helping her grab a handful of honey sticks. “Woah there cub, how many of these have you got already?”

DFKL;JHSDLAGHSF;A;FGAFASFGALS;FGASBFLASJBFSBFASBFSABFASFB WOAH THE CUB IS SUCH A JOHNNY THING TO SAY BTW MY UTERUS IS FREE

“Yeah, cub?”

SDF;JKLGASLFFASF

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines.

💀😭✋ JOHN SPOILED YOU TOO MUCH BABEZ

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

john sobbing in the corner

In the theater, Johnny’s adorable niece once again insists on sitting in the middle, and Johnny lets out a small sigh but doesn’t argue with his niece. When you take your seats, however, his arm immediately goes along the back of the chairs, and his fingers find the back of your neck, gently stroking your skin.

He’s dressed up tonight, more so than usual. His dress pants are paired with a button up, and its black silky material is soft to the touch when he pulls you to his chest for a kiss. “You look perfect,” he tells you, pinching at your chin and looking you up and down. “My perfect little honey bee doll.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.”

OK ew too much yall so mf corny i hate it here im too fucking single for this shit fuck you /hj

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

i wANNA BE HONEY GIRL SOOOO BADDDDD T_T LET ME BE HER

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

your mans could never

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny nods. “Some days, when I’m here alone, I think about how much nicer it would be to have a few of my own cubs running around…” he licks his lips, pausing to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about whether or not you’d want to have kids.”

like i said, my uterus is free (:

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

HE- HE- HE- WHAT IM GONNA ACT UP

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

im so normal about this man

You swallow thickly, leaning back against him while you gain your courage. You know Johnny’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance.

ANOTHER WIN FOR THE GIRLIES WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE GO FEMINISM

You shouldn’t be in love with Johnny only after three dates, but with lines like this one, you know you most definitely are. In the after haze or your orgasm, you can’t even find it within yourself to care that he has you wrapped around his finger.

YOU SHOULD MOVE OVER RAT IF YOU DONT WANT HIM I DO

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.”

SHE GETS ME. SHE REALLY DOES.

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

💀💀💀💀 MF DID NOT HAHHAHAHAHAHAH

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

NAUR NOT THE IM NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLSSSSSS SO L OF YOU BUT HAHHAHAHA SLAYYYY LOL

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ME YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ME

SLAYED WELL FED TOOTH DECAY COOCHIE QUAKING

Big Bear & Bee

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You swallow thickly, leaning back against Johnny while you gain your courage. You know he’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. Turning in his arms, you look up into the bear hybrid's chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

tw/cw. protected sex, multiple positions (girl on top/missionary), pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, bear hybrid x human, fingering, overstim, size kink, big dick!Johnny, pussy stretching, slow burn, mentions of baby/child fever, sex while she wears a dress, etc... I pet names: (hers) bee, princess, gorgeous. (his) John, Big Bear.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.9k

🍭 aus. hybrid, bear/uncle!Johnny, human/honey shop worker!y/n, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. huge thank you to @sehunniepot for helping me through writing this and being my beta reader- Nikki is truly one of my best friends, and if you haven't already checked out her writing, she's got John fics for days - her Olympian Johnny is one of my favorite fics ever 💕

As a bear hybrid, Johnny has been in many honey shops in his life. He’s frequented hole-in-the-wall mama and papa honey selling places. He’s visited corporate brand locations so big and full of different types of honey that they made his head spin. He’s even given a chance to side of the road, farm fresh honey sellers.

Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company.

Nestled between an ice cream parlour and a fifties style salon on an old street on the side of town, near the farming district, Queen B’s has a certain charm that’s always scratched Johnny’s honey itch just right.

With soft cream coloured walls, and touches of old wood that line the space in shelves and fill the room with various display tables, the store is somewhere between scandi and revitalized farm aesthetic, a style that Johnny adores.

There’s art too, all somehow relating to honey, and everywhere you look, there’s a recurring theme of bees and bears.

It’s a tale as old as time - the bears and the bees - and one that has always immediately brought the hybrid an indescribable sense of peace.

Even with all of this, however, Johnny’s favourite part about the store has to be the kind workers that calmly bustle around, always quick to lend a hand or ask how his day is going. Specifically, you draw Johnny in like no amount of honey ever could, and he’s pleased to arrive at the store once a week to often find you working.

The front bell chimes softly as Johnny enters Queen B’s, and Johnny meets your smile with a grin of his own. “Good morning!” you call out, a common greeting that still somehow makes his heart beat loudly in his chest.

“Hi,” he nods, breaking your gaze to inspect the front display, where all your store’s new products are laid out like candy in a candy shop for the honey-loving bear hybrid.

He tries to be nonchalant, but as the only person in the store, Johnny knows he’s captured your attention. There are days when he’s one of a handful, and you often take care of those who’ve come before him, only to head his way and ask if there’s anything you can help him find. Today, he has all your attention, and it takes effort for him not to watch you approach.

There’s something about the soft yellow apron that you always wear, or the yellow scrunchies and ribbons in your hair. Your white t-shirt and blue jean ensemble under your work apron is just as much a part of the beautiful colour scheme, and there’s no three colours in the world that Johnny likes together more than cream, honey, and denim blue, especially on you.

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well.

“I see that,” he nods, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are they any good?”

You nod. “Very good, at least, I think so.” You begin to tell him where the honey is sourced - from a local apiary - and the way that the honey sticks are naturally flavoured with the seasonal blackberries, raspberries and other such ingredients that grow in the surrounding area, all organic of course.

Johnny listens, although half of his mind is much more pleasantly occupied watching your lips. The way you speak has always enchanted the bear hybrid, and he’s more than happy to watch you work hard to give him all the information you can.

“Sounds good,” Johnny says when you’re done. “I might just have to get five of each.”

“I can prepare that for you if you’d like to continue looking around,” you smile. “We also restocked the blackberry honey jars from Overgrove Apiary. I know we were out last week and you got something else, so…well, I called our merchandiser over there and got a new batch just yesterday.”

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” Johnny tells you honestly, watching you begin to collect five of each honey stick into a simple brown paper bag for him.

“Don’t mention it,” you say softly. “Anything for a regular.”

Your eyes meet, and you’re quick to look away, but the soft smile on your face is enough to make Johnny’s heart race again.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today? Or just the honey sticks and blackberry jar?”

“I think this is good for now,” he tells you, following when you immediately turn to head to the till.

It’s a nice silence as he watches you check everything through the system, and when you give him the total, he pulls out his soft, brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He always pays in cash, and despite the fact that he never asks for change, opting to give you a tip that goes into the tip jar, you still ask if he’d like the coins back.

It’s one of Johnny’s joys of the week to tell you, “keep the change,” as he reaches for his brown paper bag of goodies.

“Good thing I like stupid questions,” he assures you, giving you the space to continue.

“I was just-” you take a deep breath. “I’ve looked into certain hybrids like yourself enjoying honey, and Winnie The Pooh always told me that bears like honey, but you can’t always rely on cartoons, can you?” Johnny chuckles at the idea. “As a regular, I was thinking maybe I could ask you about your personal experience with our products?”

“That’s a good question,” Johnny says, thinking about it for a moment. “You know my affinity for the blackberry honey - I’ve always had a sweet tooth - but in truth, all the honey sticks are for my niece. She’s the real addict in the family.”

“Really?” Your eyes have widened, and Johnny thinks it’s possible you’ve never been prettier than this moment. “I always- I mean, in the months you’ve been coming in, I just always assumed the honey sticks were for you-”

“Easy mistake,” he smiles.

“You’ve never come in with your niece,” you point out.

He goes to reach for the brown paper bag in question, but you’re quick to pull it away from him. “A goodie bag?” you repeat. “If I'd known this was a goodie bag, I would have put some tissue paper in here-” you’re already reaching under the till, taking out some cream coloured paper with golden spots and bees on it.

“It’s okay-”

“No,” you insist, “your niece is going to love this, trust me.” You press the fun tissue paper into the bag, and the soft crinkling sound makes Johnny smile. “Maybe a bow too?”

“She really doesn’t need a bow-”

“That’s okay,” he assures you.

“It’s not,” you shake your head, averting your gaze, and Johnny corrects himself from earlier. He’d thought seeing you shocked made you cute, but seeing you flustered makes you even cuter. “That was really unprofessional-”

He loves the way your careful hands wrap a pretty bow around one of the bag handles even as you look up at him with shy eyes. “Most little girls like bows, Johnny,” you say, voice quiet.

“Then I’m thankful you’ve given me tissue paper and a bow,” he grins. “Thanks for all of this,” he picks up the finished bag of goodies.

“You’re welcome,” you nod, biting on your lip. “And Johnny?”

He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. “Yeah?”

“Please bring your niece in. We’re a hybrid and child-friendly store. I’m sure she’d love it here.”

Johnny takes a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he concedes, giving you one last once over before heading to the door.

When he picks up his niece from school, she’s ecstatic to receive a new and improved goodie bag, giggling over the cream and gold, bee and polka dot tissue paper. She immediately tears into one of the honey sticks.

While you’re often on Johnny’s mind after his Queen B visits, today, he can’t get you out of his brain.

You’re halfway through completing a transaction with an older customer when your favourite regular walks into your store. The sight of him makes you do a double take, because today, he’s not alone.

He’s brought his niece in, just like you’d asked him to.

At about waist-high next to the gentle giant bear hybrid, the little girl looks absolutely adorable. She’s in a yellow and white polka dot dress, with two sparkly scrunchies keeping her dark hair up in pigtails just behind her large fluffy ears. Her hand is clasped in Johnny’s, and her eyes are full of wonder as she steps into the space.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” you say to the lady you’re helping, quickly finishing up so your attention can return to Johnny.

His niece is tugging on his hand now, attempting to run up to the display case that’s stocked with all your new honey stick flavours.

“These ones!” the little girl insists. “These are the ones you got me last week!”

“I know, Winnie, I know,” Johnny smiles, joining the little cub in front of the table of treats. “Your favourite was the peach one, right?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl, Winnie, nods enthusiastically. “But I also liked raspberry, and strawberry, and apple, and cherry-”

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

“Right,” Winnie confirms, nodding solemnly as she gazes down at all the honey sticks.

“I think we’ll be needing a basket,” Johnny notes. “Can we go grab a basket?”

“Yeah!” Her enthusiasm makes you smile, and you reach under your till to grab something to carry their honey in, approaching the two with a heart that’s currently melting in your chest.

“Welcome to Queen B’s,” you say, drawing both of the bear hybrid’s eyes. “I heard a basket might be in order?”

You hold it out for Johnny, and he gives you a grateful smile while accepting it. “Yeah, thank you,” he adjusts his niece on his hip. “Winnie, this is y/n, she showed me all these new honey sticks last week and wrapped your goodie bag up in a bow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” The little girl grins, flashing a toothy smile that shows her sharp canines are just starting to grow in.

“She loved the bow,” Johnny tells you. “Didn’t you, Winnie?”

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist.

“That’s very pretty, Winnie,” you smile, also noting her cute yellow nails. She’s a girl who has an obvious favourite colour, and it’s cute in comparison to the neutral blacks and browns Johnny often wears.

“Is it okay if she chooses her own honey sticks?” Johnny asks, holding his niece closer to the display stand.

“Of course!” You’re a little shocked by how polite Johnny is. Even after telling him you’re a kid-friendly store, he still double checks to make sure he’s not crossing any lines.

“Of course I can!” Winnie insists, reaching out her little hand to circle a bunch of the peach flavored honey sticks. When she pulls the treats back to her chest, she begins counting, and Johnny joins in. The first five are easy, but she begins to falter a little at six and seven.

Johnny is as patient as ever, helping her through to ten before he stops her. “Is ten enough, cub? That’s half of twenty, you know.”

“Ten is enough,” Winnie sighs, dropping her chosen sticks into the basket before reaching to return those she won’t keep.

“What else?” Johnny asks, beginning to bob his niece up and down on his hip as she surveys the options.

“Two raspberry,” she concludes, and Johnny holds her closer to the tin of raspberry sticks. She plucks two out.

“What’s ten plus two?” Johnny questions.

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Good job,” Johnny praises her. “Ten plus two is twelve. Okay, what’s next?”

“Two cherry.”

“What’s twelve plus two?”

“Uh…” again, Johnny mouths the answer, and Winnie declares “fourteen!” which earns her a few coos of admiration and another ‘good job’ that has you practically melting.

You suppose standing and watching the two is somewhat intrusive, so with a nod to Johnny, you step back, busying yourself on a nearby display case that needs some fixing.

You listen to the bear hybrids count all the way to twenty, and you hear Johnny congratulate Winnie again for counting so high.

You’d always gotten the vibe that Johnny is a softy, but seeing him in action is something else, and you find it harder and harder to stop the smile from appearing on your face at all his sweet actions.

Instead of approaching the till, Johnny asks Winnie if she wants to see some of the pottery on the walls, and the cub lets out an excited “Yes!”

“But remember,” Johnny says, voice turning serious as he puts his basket down and adjusts the girl in his arms, hands going onto her waist so he can lift her high enough to see the tall shelves, “keep your paws to yourself.”

“I promise,” Winnie giggles. “Uncle John! Look! This one’s a beehive!”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Johnny nods.

“Very pretty,” Winnie confirms.

“Maybe I should get your mom one of these for her birthday,” Johnny says. “Do you think she’d like a honey jar?”

Winnie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Which one, cub? This one? Or…” he moves over a few feet, showing her another ceramic honey pot, “how about this?”

“They’re all so pretty,” Winnie admits.

“Well, how about you think about it, and when we come back next week, you can help me choose one. How’s that sound?”

He truly is a gentle giant, and you find yourself grabbing a few extra honey sticks from a display near the till in preparation for Johnny’s approach.

“Okay, cub,” he says as he carries his niece over, “I’m gonna have to set you down now so I can pay.”

“Okay,” Winnie nods, allowing herself to be placed back on the ground. She tucks in close to Johnny’s leg, looking around the store while Johnny sets the basket next to your till.

“How’s your day going?” Johnny asks, flashing you a smile as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s going great,” you admit. “I was wondering if you’d actually come in today.”

“I told you last time, Monday’s the day I babysit.”

“And I told you to bring in your niece,” your eyes dip to the small bear hybrid still clinging to his leg, “I’m very glad you did.”

“Me too,” Johnny smiles. “How much do I owe you?”

You give him the price of his twenty honey sticks, moving them from the basket to a pretty goodie bag you’d prepared. Johnny hands you two bills, and as always, tells you to keep the change.

“Wait,” he says when he watches you put five extra honey sticks into the bag, “I didn’t buy those-”

“They’re on the house,” you assure him. “I understand that your sister made a twenty honey stick cap, but I figured, maybe Winnie will share some with you, so… here are extra ones. They’re a different brand, Overgrove Apiary, and they’re all blackberry, which I know is your favourite.”

“Wow,” Johnny accepts the goodie bag, immediately handing it off to Winnie, who reaches in to tear a honey stick out. “Thank you, I uh… I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” you assure him. “And by the way, the ice cream parlour next door has a new flavour out. It’s honeycomb.”

“Honeycomb!?” Winnie is midway through tearing open the stick in her hands, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with her mother, aren’t you?” Johnny laughs.

“I’d never even think of doing such a thing,” you grin.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Johnny looks you up and down, and you feel your skin heating under his gaze. “Have a good day, y/n.”

“You too, Johnny.”

You’ve been looking forward to Monday all weekend, and when Johnny walks in at 3:30 with Winnie on his shoulders, all the tension from your long day leaves your body.

“Hi, you two,” you greet them, coming from around the till to give them your full attention.

“Hi, y/n!” Winnie exclaims, waving enthusiastically at you.

“How’s your day going, cub?” you ask, looking up at the little girl clinging to Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Winnie sighs.

“That doesn’t sound okay,” you note, reading her body language.

Your gaze dips to Johnny and he gives you a look. “Some kids were being mean to her in school today,” he confesses.

“What?” you look to Winnie again. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It wasn’t,” she confirms with another loud sigh. “They were making fun of my ears.”

“But you have such wonderful ears,” you compliment her, frowning at the fact that the world is still full of people who are very much anti-hybrid.

“That’s what I told her,” Johnny nods.

You find yourself laughing at her sass, nodding along. “That’s a very good point, Winnie. I have to admit, I liked your dress the first time you entered the shop, and I see you’re in an even prettier one today.”

“This one?!” Winnie looks down at the cream coloured poofy dress adorning her form. “Uncle John got it for me for my birthday.”

“Well, he also has an eye for fashion, doesn’t he?” You smile at Johnny, and he grins back at you.

“He does,” Winnie agrees. “Even though mommy says he should wear dress pants with a button up, I like his t-shirts.”

“I do too,” you nod. You’ve always liked Johnny’s style, the way he can wear a nice pair of dress pants with a casual shirt and sneakers.

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion.

“No such thing as too nice,” Winnie insists, “you taught me that, Uncle John.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Anyways, you remember our mission today, right cub?”

“A honeypot for mommy,” the little girl on his shoulders nods.

“That’s right,” Johnny begins to move towards the shelves holding ceramics, and you shadow the pair.

“Is there anything that stood out to you the last time you were here, princess Winnie?” you ask.

The little girl kicks her feet with joy at the new title you’ve given her, and she nods. “The beehive.”

“The beehive,” Johnny repeats with a sigh, and his gaze shifts to you. “Our little Winnie is nothing if not predictable.”

You enjoy the sentiment, the use of the word ‘our’ as if you’re already a part of their little family. You certainly feel connected to the two bear hybrids, although you’ve only really been getting to know Johnny for a short time.

You hope you can get to know them better.

“Is this the beehive honey pot you want?” you ask, pointing at a lovely handmade ceramic on the top shelf.

“Uh huh, that’s the one,” Winnie nods, playing with Johnny’s ears as she holds onto his head. “Mommy’s going to love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you agree. “Let me just get the step ladder so I can reach it-”

“I don’t mind at all,” you smile, accepting the ceramic and holding it close to your chest.

Johnny helps Winnie off of his shoulders and the two head to the display case that holds your store’s best goodies. You walk over to the till, scanning the price tag of the honey pot and getting it prepared.

You wrap it in bubble wrap before placing it in a nice gift bag and adding tissue paper to obscure the pot. This is a present after all, and you take your time making it look nice.

You’re just finishing your task when Winnie and Johnny approach holding twenty honey sticks, and they wait patiently while you scan them too.

“Hey Winnie,” Johnny looks down at his niece, “How about you go take a look at that display case over there,” he suggests, “I’m sure there’s some stuff in it you haven’t seen before.”

Winnie looks confused for a moment, but then she shrugs, skipping off to look at the array of jarred honey in a display case a few meters away.

You cock a brow at Johnny while he pulls out his wallet.

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

“Take me out?”

“On a date,” Johnny clarifies. “Again, shoot me down and there will be no hard feelings-”

“I’d love to,” you tell him.

“Really?” He breaks into a smile, and it makes your heart flutter with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, reaching for a Queen B’s Honey business card. “Let me give you my number,” you say, grabbing a pen to write your digits on the back of the piece of paper.

When you hand it to Johnny, your fingers brush, and the contact makes your whole body light up with energy. You can tell from the way Johnny looks down at your number, skin flaring a slight pinkish colour, that he has no clue of the effect he has on you. “Thanks,” he mutters, voice cracking. “I’ll uh, give you a call later.”

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change.

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned,” the bear grins sheepishly at you.

“I like it,” you confess. “It’s part of your charm.”

“I have charm?”

“Tons,” you nod.

“Good to know.” He licks his lips, looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes that have always made you feel like melting into a puddle on the floor.

Winnie returns to grab her bag of honey sticks, and Johnny gently picks up the present for his sister. “Say goodbye to y/n, Winnie.”

“Goodbye, y/n. See you next week!”

“You better,” you grin. “I’ll be eager to find out how your mom likes her new honeypot.”

“She’ll love it,” Winnie says with the confidence that only a toddler truly possesses.

You adore her already.

“I’ll call you,” Johnny says again, giving you one last smile as you say goodbye and he turns to leave your store.

You watch him go, holding Winnie’s hand while the little girl skips along.

You kind of feel like skipping too.

Old fashioned Johnny is sweeter than the honey your store makes, and he calls you on Monday evening to see if you want to go to a fair on Thursday night. “You’re not scared of heights right? I can take you on the ferris wheel? They do fireworks at nine thirty for the kids but uh, I thought you might like watching them.”

He’s a gentleman, and you agree to all his ideas.

Waiting until Thursday is something like torture, but you somehow make it to the end of your shift and go home to get dolled up for Johnny. It will be the first time he sees you not in a work outfit, and you want to impress him.

You’d noted how proud he looked of Winnie’s dress when she’d mentioned he’d bought it for her, and you think Johnny might have a thing for cutesy looks, so you find your sweetest dress. It’s still modest, and when you look in the mirror, you realize you sort of look like one of those cute elementary school teachers you’ve seen in movies.

Finishing the outfit off with red lipstick, you think it’s a happy medium, after all, you will be at a fair with lots of children running around.

Johnny picks you up from your house, pulling up next to the curb in an old black muscle car convertible that takes your breath away as you approach.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking between him and the vehicle he’s leaning against.

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

You allow him to grab your hand, and he helps you do a twirl that makes your dress dance.

“Perfect,” he tells you. “I’ve always liked your work outfit, but this dress is something else.”

“Really?” you beam up at him, allowing the bear hybrid to pull you to his chest.

“Would I lie to you?” he asks.

You stare into his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration, you shake your head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You almost think Johnny’s about to kiss you, but then he swallows thickly and turns his head away, looking at the road. “Should we get going?”

“Yes, please.”

He drives a little wilder than the calm persona he exudes when he’s in your shop, and you find yourself giggling as he races down streets. It feels exhilarating to be in a convertible, the warm summer air rushing past.

Johnny grins at you when you laugh, pushing the car even harder to bring you more joy.

You’re already completely dazzled by the bear hybrid by the time you get to the fair, and the night just keeps getting better and better.

He holds your hand as you walk through the crowd, and he even wins you a massive teddy bear at one of the fair games. His baseball skills are no joke, and he easily knocks down all the bottles, triumphantly holding the teddy out to you as his prize.

“For me?” you ask in shock, accepting the toy.

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

The two of you go on a few rides, with you clinging to Johnny’s side during rough twists and turns. He keeps you and the teddy bear safe, laughing while you scream in delight. It feels like being a kid again. It’s something you’ve never really experienced, being at a fair on a date with a cute guy who seems to want to give you the world.

It’s nine twenty before you even know it, and Johnny leads you to the ferris wheel.

“We should get to the top by the time the fireworks start,” he tells you before pulling out his wallet and stepping close to the teenage boy working the ride. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to give us an extra five minutes at the top.”

“I can do that,” the teenager nods, quickly pocketing the bill before helping you both onto the ferris wheel. “Here, I’ll take care of the bear for you,” he says, as there’s no way you both will fit on the ride with the massive stuffed animal. The seats are for two adults, and Johnny pulls out another five to give to the attendant before sitting next to you.

The bar is secured in place, locking you in next to the bear hybrid who smoothly puts his arm behind you, laying it across the back of the seats. “It’s a nice night,” he tells you.

“A perfect night,” you agree. “I’m so happy you asked me to do this with you.”

“Your niece is wonderful,” you breathe.

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

“Seeing as we’re going to be on this ride for a while, do you mind if I ask you some questions about yourself? We’ve spent the whole night doing things, and I don’t actually know that much about you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Let's start with what you do for work?”

Johnny laughs. “Any guesses?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not a nine to five kind of guy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“You dress so well, part of me wants to say you’re involved in fashion or something.”

“Good idea,” Johnny grins, “but unfortunately no, I’m not involved with any fashion work. I think my job is a hard one to guess, so I’ll just tell you. I run a club with a few close friends.”

“You run a club?” you blink at him.

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

“A hybrid bar,” you repeat.

“Humans are allowed in the front section, but we have a back that’s exclusive for hybrids. It’s a safe space for us, and I’m there a lot, especially during the weekends, keeping an eye on things,” he explains.

“Tell me about the friends you work with?”

“First, there’s Hyuck. He’s a pretty peculiar guy. Then there’s Renjun, and Yuta, he’s a wolf hybrid. But at this point, I’m friends with a lot of the workers too. We have this raven manager, Doyoung, and I love watching him run around like a stressed chicken with his head cut off-” Johnny smiles to himself. “You’ll have to come by sometime and meet them.”

“That would be nice,” you nod. “I mean, you’ve seen me at work so often, it would be interesting to see you in your own element.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure the club is my element. It’s a good way to make money, and I don’t have to do much- it’s one of the perks of being a part owner. But if I had to choose between your store and the club, I think I’d rather be at the honey shop.”

“So you can watch me run around like a stressed chicken with my head cut off?” you tease.

“You always seem so put together,” Johnny tells you.

“That’s because you often show up when no one else is in the store. You should see what it’s like during a Saturday rush.”

The bear hybrid laughs. “Maybe I’ll have to pop by, then.”

You’re only halfway up the ferris wheel, and you’re a little surprised when a sudden loud pop marks the beginning of the fireworks. You tear your gaze from Johnny, focusing on the blue and green explosion that’s lighting up the dark sky.

“Wow, this view is amazing!” you exclaim.

“It is,” Johnny agrees, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that the charming man hasn’t stopped staring at you just yet. “I knew you’d like it here.”

He adjusts his arm behind you, finally resting his hand casually over your shoulder, and you immediately tuck yourself closer to the bear hybrid. His large body is so warm and comforting, and you enjoy the peaceful quiet that settles over you both as you watch the fireworks.

The ride moves, bringing you closer to the prime spot at the top of the ferris wheel. You can feel yourself getting giddier- you’ve never been on a date like this. Never experienced something this perfect.

“You’re cute,” Johnny says.

“I am?” You look at the bear hybrid next to you.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “The way your eyes light up when you’re watching the fireworks- I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

“Stop, you’re such a charmer,” you blush, hiding your face against the crook of his neck.

“Just being honest,” he tells you, stroking your shoulder.

The ride begins to move again, and you pull away from Johnny to marvel at the view again.

From the top of the ferris wheel, you can see everything. The whole fairground is laid out below you, twinkling and brilliant. The fireworks are dazzling, filling the sky with colourful explosions.

Johnny turns his head to look at you, gaze darting down to your mouth-

Again, you’re hit with a surge of confidence, and this time, when you lean in, it’s not his cheek you’re aiming for.

Johnny’s lips are soft, gentle against your own, and then his hand comes up to cup your face. You don’t want to pull away. You can tell he doesn’t want you to either. His mouth parts, tongue gently teasing your bottom lip, and you let him deepen the kiss.

Your body is tingling with energy as you lean closer to him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. When your own tongue darts out to taste him, the bear hybrid lets out a groan, and you mirror it with a pleasured sound of your own.

A loud bang makes you jump a little in his embrace, and Johnny smiles against your lips, releasing your face so you can turn to admire the large firework that’s just been set off.

“John,” you breathe, “this is perfect.”

“It’s how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he muses. “As much as I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up, I knew waiting would have its rewards.”

So he wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him, and the thought has your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

You can’t help but press your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss while Johnny tugs you closer. His free hand slips down to your thigh, and you moan at how good it feels.

It’s shocking how just kissing Johnny is already doing so much to your body- as if some primal instinct is taking over.

You’re not sure how long you remain lip locked, but when the ride jolts into motion again, you break the kiss, laughing a little as you bury your face against his neck.

The bear hybrid holds you tighter, and you remain in his embrace for the rest of the ride.

When you reach the ground again, Johnny holds out a hand and helps you out of your seat. The teenage ride attendant gives Johnny the bear stuffie, and he carries it for you as you walk through the fairgrounds towards his car.

You’re amazed with how comfortable you are with Johnny, and the ride home is filled with as many speed fueled giggles as your drive to the fairground had been.

When you reach your house, Johnny even walks you to the door.

You kiss him again, loving the way that his size dwarfs your own. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, not wanting to let go. But all good nights must come to an end, and after a long makeout session, you finally pull away to catch your breath.

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asks.

“Monday?” you suggest.

“With Winnie?” The bear hybrid laughs. “Are you sure you’re not using me to get to my niece?”

You grin, enjoying his playful banter. “I was just thinking that you said you work most evenings on the weekend, and I work during the day, so our schedules are conflicting.”

“Right, yeah,” Johnny nods. “What are you doing Tuesday, after work?”

“You tell me.”

“Movies,” Johnny states. “I want to take you to the movies.”

“Is there anything good showing?”

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

He’s such a sweet talker, and you give him a kiss, thanking him for the lovely evening. “I’ll see you Monday, John.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Why are you rushing, Uncle John?” Winnie asks as Johnny speeds down the street after picking her up from school.

“No reason,” he says, although it's partially a lie.

He’s excited to see you, even if it’s just for a short interaction while Winnie gets her honey fix. However, his niece is right, Johnny is going a little too fast, and it’s almost torture for him to slow down.

He all but hops out of the car when he parks in front of your shop, opening the back door for Winnie to exit the vehicle as well. They enter Queen B’s Honey with enthusiasm, although the cause of that enthusiasm is very different.

Winnie goes straight for the honey stick display, but Johnny’s much more focused on you. You’re restocking a few honey jars on a top shelf, wobbling a little on your stepping stool, and the bear hybrid is quick to rush to your aid.

“Hey there,” he breathes, steadying a hand on your waist. “Carefull, Bee.”

“Oh, hi, John,” you grin down at him.

“Hi, yourself,” he smiles, watching you put the last jar in its place.

You turn, resting your hands on his shoulders as you step down to the floor, and Johnny loves the way you’re so much shorter than he is. He could just eat you up-

“Hi, Winnie!” You wave at his niece over his shoulder.

“Hi!” she calls back, and when Johnny turns, he sees his little cub is already reaching to grab a few peach honey sticks from their jar. She’s occupied, and it gives Johnny the chance to talk to you one on one a little, something he’s very grateful for.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“Busy,” you laugh. “You?”

“Busy,” he grins. “Was thinking about you a lot.”

“You were, were you?” There’s a twinkle in your eye, and it all but bewitches the bear hybrid who still has a hand on your hip. “Did I really leave that good of an impression?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses. “Were you thinking about me too?”

“More than I care to say,” you nod.

“Are we still on for that movie tomorrow?”

“Of course, unless you’ve changed your mind-”

“Never.”

“Uncle John!” Winnie’s voice snaps Johnny out of his daze, and he tears his gaze from your lips to look at his niece.

“Yeah, cub?”

“I can’t reach the cherry honey!”

“Just a few,” she insists, adding her new goodies to a hand already holding a large number of peach sticks.

“Just a few,” Johnny chuckles. It’s obvious that Winnie has forgotten her candy cap. “Can you count to twenty for me?”

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines.

“You know we’ll both get in trouble with your mom if you have any more than that.”

Winnie sighs with exasperation, putting a few of the cherry sticks back in their jar.

“There we go,” Johnny grins. “Just peach and cherry today?”

“They’re my favourites,” Winnie insists.

It’s a shame that his little cub doesn’t take longer choosing honey, as it means there’s less time with you, but Johnny also supposes that he shouldn’t be monopolizing on goodie time. He’ll get to see you tomorrow, even though it pains him to head to the till and say goodbye to you so soon.

“Have a wonderful day, you two,” you grin.

“We will,” Johnny promises. His day is already fantastic now that he’s seen you, and he’ll carry the memory of helping you off that stool for many hours to come. “Don’t work too hard.”

“No promises,” you wink.

God, you’re perfect.

“Don’t be mad,” Johnny says, which is not a great start to a call thirty minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up for your date, “but when Winnie heard I was going to the theater with you, she insisted on coming because there’s this new Disney movie that’s showing, and her mom jumped at the idea to have her own date night-”

You listen to the bear hybrid ramble with a smile on your face, and when he finishes, he asks you if you’re okay with Winnie tagging along. “I’d love for her to join us,” you tell him. “You know I adore Winnie.”

Johnny lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, you are. Very perfect. Thanks for understanding.”

Half an hour later Johnny’s at your door, but he’s not in the convertible muscle car. Instead, an SUV is waiting on the curb, and you see Winnie waving at you frantically through the window.

“You look amazing,” Johnny breathes, taking in your dress with a smile.

“You clean up well too, John,” you smile, enjoying the brown checkered pants and white shirt he’s wearing.

“I’m sorry about this-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “As I said on the phone, I’m happy for the little cub to join.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “This was supposed to be a date-”

“It can still be a date,” you tell him, and you truly mean it.

It’s obvious to you that Winnie is a big part of Johnny’s life, and if you’re going to be part of his world too, it only makes sense for you to embrace his family.

When you get into the car, Winnie is quick to say hello, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat in the back of the vehicle. “It is you!” she exclaims. “Uncle John told me you’d be coming, but I didn’t really believe him!”

“No?” you smile. “Why’s that, cub?”

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

“Ouch,” Johnny laughs, slipping behind the wheel. “That hurts, Win.” He turns the key in the ignition, casting a glance at you. “Do we all have our seatbelts on?”

“Yes, John,” you smile, and your sentiment is echoed by Winnie in the back, “of course, Uuncle John!”

“Why?” he presses, looking over his shoulder at the child in the back seat.

“Because safety is the most important thing!” she all but yells, and you think this must be something of a ritual for the two of them. It’s sweet, and it makes you fall even harder for the bear hybrid.

“Can we turn on my music?” Winnie asks next.

“Of course, cub,” Johnny nods, reaching for the center console, fingers pausing over the play button. “That is, if Miss Bee doesn’t mind the Lion King soundtrack.”

“Not at all,” you assure him.

Music fills the car a moment later, as does Winnie’s high pitched singing voice. When it reaches the chorus of the song, even Johnny joins in, and you wonder how many times he’s listened to this sound track with his niece.

It’s a soft experience, and one you savor every second of as Johnny drives you to the theater.

Winnie insists on walking between you and Johnny when she exits the car, holding both of your hands and doing little jumps that force you and her uncle to lift her off the ground while she giggles.

Once inside, you wait in the concession line and Winnie tells you all about the movie you’re going to see. She’s a massive Disney fan, and you enjoy listening to her talk. You catch Johnny staring at you a few times, and he always flashes you a smile when you meet his eyes.

Johnny gets a large popcorn with extra butter, and when he hands it to Winnie, she notes, “This is as big as me!”

He smiles at you when you turn to look at him, giving you a small wink before he entertains Winnie with a discussion on what colour his tail would be if he was a mermaid. Winnie decides hers would be yellow, and when Johnny says his would be green, she insists his would be brown because he’s a brown bear hybrid.

“Does that make you a yellow bear?” Johnny questions teasingly.

“A honey bear,” Winnie corrects. “And Miss Bee would be pink.”

“Really?” Johnny’s brows raise. “And why’s that, cub?”

“Because she has a pretty pink soul,” the child smiles, looking up at you. “And also, your dress is pink, and I like it.”

“Thank you, Winnie, I like your dress too.”

Winnie kicks her feet happily and Johnny rubs his thumb along the back of your neck in small, warm circles.

The lights dim, the movie starts, and you find that you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. It’s nice to have Johnny’s gentle touch, a constant reminder that - although you’re here with his niece - he’s still doing his best to be attentive to you.

The film flies by, and before you know it, the three of you are exiting the theater. Winnie is dragging her feet, obviously exhausted from a long day at school and an evening movie, so Johnny picks her up, holding her tight to his chest while she wraps her legs around his waist and all but passes out on his shoulder.

At the car, you help Johnny put Winnie into the back seat, and when he closes the door, he turns to you. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Stop thanking me,” you smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” His hands find your waist, and he tugs you closer- only for his phone to ring.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, the first swear word you’ve heard from him. “One sec, it’s my sister.”

He answers the call, assuring Winnie’s mom that the movie went well and they’ll be home soon. When he hangs up, Johnny tugs you to his chest again, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

He seems reluctant to let you go, but he opens your car door for you all the same, shutting it gently behind you once you’re tucked inside.

The drive home is quiet, as Winnie has fully passed out in the back seat. Johnny’s hand is on your thigh, and you place your own on top of his, playing with his fingers.

When you reach your house, Johnny exits the car to walk you to your door, where he kisses you, cupping your face and taking your breath away.

“I want to see you again,” he says, still holding you close.

“I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday? The club usually isn’t that busy on Thursdays. You could come meet a few of my friends.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I think I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Johnny leans in to kiss you again, and as much as you’d love to melt against him, you’re very aware that Winnie’s mom is waiting for her back home.

“Drive safe, please,” you say when you finally pull away.

“I always do.”

You laugh. “That’s debatable.”

“You just don’t trust my driving skills yet,” Johnny insists.

Before you can stop him, he gives you one final kiss goodbye, and when you watch him turn to walk back to his car, you find yourself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

On Thursday night, you face the dilemma of figuring out what to wear for your date with Johnny. The past two experiences had been fairly classic, with a fair adventure and a trip to the movies, both perfectly suitable locations to wear a cute dress. But tonight, you’re going to a club and you wonder how that should affect your clothing choice.

After much contemplation, and about ten different outfit try-ons, you decide to stick with your usual baby doll style. Johnny seems to like it when you dress cute for him, and you’re banking on the fact that the bear hybrid likes you for you, as opposed to the girls who frequent his club in all forms of scandalous attire.

You’re feeling a little anxious about visiting a hybrid bar, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s not that you personally have anything against hybrids, you’re just used to only being around one or two at a time.

You suppose maybe this is how Johnny feels, being a hybrid in a human dominant world, and the thought makes you a little sad. He always gives off such an air of ease and calmness, as if he doesn’t have a bother in the world. You wonder what adversities he’s had to overcome to get to that mentality, or if he was simply born that way.

Before you know it, Johnny’s picking you up. The convertible muscle car is back, and you take a moment to appreciate him leaning against it on the curb.

“I’m happy you like my dress,” you grin, swaying your hips so the skirt picks up.

Johnny grabs your hand, giving you the space to help you twirl while he lets out a whistle of appreciation. “I always like your dresses,” he admits. “I like your jeans and white t-shirt work outfits, but, I mean…when you walked out on our first date in a dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.”

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you inside.

The ride is a peaceful one. He asks about your day, tells you about his own, and before you know it, you’re pulling up in front of his club. “You ready to meet my friends, gorgeous?” he asks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before exiting the car.

When you enter the club, with Johnny’s hand securely on the small of your back, it feels like any other bar you’ve been to. The staff are mostly hybrids, but you notice a few humans dressed in black too.

“It’s nice in here,” you tell him, beaming up at the man who makes you so eager to please.

“If you like this, wait till you see the back room,” Johnny grins, leading you past the bar.

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Didn’t you mention that the back is hybrid exclusive? Are you sure we should be going back there?”

“You have a good memory,” the bear nods. “It’s hybrid exclusive, but I'm a part owner, so I figure I can do what I want. Besides, this front section doesn’t have a VIP seating area, and my friends prefer to be in places where people can’t overhear us.”

“Are you planning on giving me some trade secrets, John?” You cock a brow and the bear hybrid laughs.

“Something like that.”

You reach the back door, where a bunny hybrid looks you up and down, his large, floppy ears twitching before his gaze shifts to Johnny. “Yuta said you’d be coming in tonight.”

You notice a puppy hybrid of sorts standing a few feet to the side, and his beautiful face is unreadable, his eyes fixed on you.

“Of course he did,” Johnny smiles at the bunny. “There’s not much Yuta can keep from you, is there, Markie?”

The bunny hybrid’s cheeks flare a cute shade of pink and he lets out a cough. “He’s uh… he’s waiting for you in VIP. Hyuck’s there too.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Johnny says, applying a small amount of pressure onto your lower back which prompts you to step past Mark and through the open doorway.

Johnny was right about the hybrid exclusive section being nicer than the front, and you hurry to take it all in with your eyes. As you scan the space, it’s hard not to notice a few looks you get from people within the room.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re with Johnny, or because you’re a human, but when your eyes catch the gaze of a man behind the bar with large, black raven wings, you get the feeling that it might be the latter.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” you ask, tucking closer to Johnny’s side.

“Definitely,” Johnny nods, leading you toward a set of stairs that leads to the VIP section. “Especially up here.” He takes your hand as you ascend, and you see a booth with two men sitting in it.

One has white hair to match his ashy wolf ears, and you think this must be the Yuta that Johnny has mentioned to you. The other man has his back to you, and you don’t see any obvious hybrid markings.

Johnny hadn’t mentioned much about this ‘Hyuck’ friend of his, other than him being peculiar, and you begin to wonder if Hyuck might be human like you. It would definitely make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, guys,” Johnny greets his friends as you come to a stop in front of the table. “How’s it going?”

Both the men turn to look at you, and like the hybrids at the door, their gaze shifts down and then back up. The wolf is the first to stand, pulling out of the booth to shake your hand.

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“Johnny has been talking about you for months,” Hyuck breathes, but he doesn’t stand. “It was good to hear he finally grew some balls-”

“Hyuck,” Johnny groans, a warning in his tone. “Be nice.”

“You love bears probably want to sit next to each other,” Yuta says, slipping into the booth next to his friend and giving you the other side of the bench.

“Thanks,” Johnny nods, allowing you to sit first before he moves next to you, his arm immediately taking its place behind your shoulders. “Have you two been here long?”

Hyuck shakes his head, playing with the glass of amber liquid in front of him, but it’s Yuta who speaks. “Not long,” he assures you both, obviously the more talkative of the two. “Hyuck was here before me though, something about fucking his girlfriend in the staff bathroom-”

Hyuck grins mischievously and you wonder if this is a common occurrence for him.

“Does your girlfriend work here?” you ask, hoping to get into Hyuck’s good graces.

“Yeah,” his gaze shifts to the dance floor below. “She’s the sexy little bunny running around in that cute black dress.”

“She’s very pretty,” you smile.

“It runs in her family,” Yuta comments.

You’re confused for a moment before Johnny is leaning in close to your ear, “the bunny at the door, Mark, is her brother.”

“Oh,” you blink as you look at the men in front of you. “So you’re dating siblings?”

“I wouldn’t call what Yuta does with Mark dating-” Hyuck grins, earning an elbow in the ribs from the wolf on his side.

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

To be fair, both Yuta and Hyuck seem like the types to date their workers, but you suppose you shouldn’t hold that against them. These are Johnny’s friends, and you’re not about to start judging them now.

“So, Hyuck,” you look at the man across from you. “I can’t help but notice you don’t have any uh… any hybrid marks? Let me know if I’m being too forward, but are you human, or?”

Hyuck scoffs. “Definitely not.”

“And before you ask,” Yuta buts in, “his hybrid type is classified information.” The wolf flashes you a wink, and you suppose you should drop the topic. However, you can’t help the pang of anxiety that clutches your heart when you realize you truly are the only human in this back room.

“Johnny,” you look at the bear sitting next to you. “Are you really sure I should be here?”

“It’s fine-” Johnny goes to assure you again, but you can tell from the darkening of Hyuck’s gaze that maybe he doesn’t agree.

Before you can say anything else, Hyuck’s bunny hybrid girlfriend shows up. She smiles at Johnny, asking if he wants the usual, but when her eyes move to you, and you see her nose do a small wiggle, you realize she’s clocking you as a human.

“And what can I get your friend?” the bunny asks, and you’re thankful that she’s still being polite to you, but you can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Actually, I think maybe I need some air,” you admit, taking a deep breath.

You suddenly feel very claustrophobic, and it might have to do with being surrounded by predatory hybrids. You don’t know what Hyuck is, exactly, but you’re sure he’s something big, because he acts like he’s got the biggest cock in the room.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks, standing up from the booth to give you the space to escape your seat.

“Yeah, I just need to go outside for a moment,” you shake your head, turning to apologize to his friends before moving past the bunny hybrid and walking back down the stairs.

You can hear Johnny following you, but you’re in something of a rush as you weave through hybrids staring you down on the dance floor. When you get to the door leading to the front section, Mark stops you with a hand on your forearm. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you-”

Johnny appears behind you, taking control of the situation as he tells Mark, “She just needs some air.”

The bunny hybrid lets you go, and you scurry to the front door, finally making your escape onto the street where you feel like you can finally take a breath.

Johnny stands two feet away from you, watching you with an empathetic expression. He gives you time to take a few deep inhales before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting-”

“You’re not,” he assures you, cupping your face and giving you a soft smile.

“I just… I feel like… everyone should have a safe space, you know? And I worry that, as a human, being in that back section was sort of like… invading the sanctity of your hybrid only zone. I’m really sorry, John, but I’m not sure if I can go back in there.”

“That’s okay,” he nods. “Maybe I was being…” he searches for the word, “presumptuous tonight. I wanted you to meet my friends, but I didn’t think too hard about how you might feel in that environment. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry-”

“Well we can’t both be sorry,” Johnny grins. “So maybe neither of us should be. Maybe tonight just didn’t work out, but that’s okay.”

“Really?” Relief floods your system as you look up into Johnny’s soft brown eyes.

“Really,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you say about going somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?”

“How about my place?” he suggests. “I was planning on inviting you after this, but we could go there now if you want. No pressure though.”

You take a deep breath before you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” His thumb smooths by your cheek.

“Do you have to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends? I feel bad about making them come down here to meet me only to run away-”

“Trust me, those two would be here watching their bunnies even if we didn’t come out tonight. I’ll just send them a text and explain the situation. We can always meet them another night, at another bar.”

“And you’re sure they won’t hate me?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever hate you, Bee. You’re much too sweet for that kind of reaction.” Johnny smiles. “In fact, I bet Hyuck will be impressed.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you care so much about the sanctity of the hybrid zone. Much more than I do.”

“You really think your friends will be alright?”

“Without a doubt.” He leans down to press another sweet kiss to your lips, but this one lingers. When he finally pulls away, you’re left wanting more, but he’s already reaching behind himself to open the door to his car for you. “Let’s go, gorgeous. My house is nicer than this place anyways.”

Johnny’s right about his house, it’s much nicer than the club. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he’s got a place just out of town, nestled amongst the trees of the forest. It’s a sleek place to live, and you admire the wood detailing of the upgraded cabin like exterior.

“This is a big house,” you muse, as you follow Johnny up the stone steps.

“Too big for me, I think,” he admits. “But it was one of the only places I could find with acreage in the forest, and I wanted a space that felt like home, you know? Winnie loves it here, some nights she sleeps over and we have a fire in the back with s’mores, other days I take her on some of the hiking trails- my land connects with the national forest, and we’ve got easy access to one of the better hiking paths in the park.”

Your heart melts a little. You know Johnny is a fabulous uncle, but you hadn’t realized the true extent of it.

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

“Then I’m glad we found each other,” Johnny grins. “I’ve had ex’s in the past who would get mad about the time I spend with Winnie, but not you. I really did appreciate how well you took her date crashing that other night.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem. I had a wonderful time.”

Johnny flashes you a grin as he lets you into his house, and you marvel at the interior being as lovely as the outside had been.

“Wow…it feels even bigger inside,” you note. “Will you give me a tour?”

“Of course,” Johnny tosses his keys down on an entryway table, grabbing your hand to begin showing you around.

The lower level has a state of the art kitchen with french doors that open to the outside deck, and Johnny tells you about the barbecues he hosts here. “We even had a family reunion out back two years ago,” he admits. “I’ve got extra rooms, so my grandparents stayed here, and a few of my aunts and uncles- it was a really good time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful reunion,” you smile, enjoying how deep his love for family truly runs.

There’s a large dining room, and a living room with glass windows giving views to the forest. In the corner there’s even a toy chest, and Johnny explains how he bought so many things for Winnie through the years that he just started keeping some at his own house for the time she’d be here with him.

You love that he’s not a man afraid to share his space with a six year old, even if the toy chest does stand out amongst the other furnishings.

The second level is where the bedrooms are, and Johnny lets you peek into Winnie’s room, where there are even more toys overflowing in baskets.

Two more guest bedrooms brings the grand total of sleeping locations to a whopping four, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s on your mind. “Do you think you’d ever want to raise a family here? You’ve got more than enough space for it.”

“But I’m sure you can guess my answer,” you smile.

Johnny nods, grinning. “I bet you’d love to be a mom, and you’d be good at it, too.”

“Thank you,” you feel heat rising in your skin. “I guess my affection for kids is hard to hide, huh?”

“It’s sweet,” he tells you, “just another one of those perfect attributes of yours.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt against him, enjoying the warmth of his body.

When Johnny moves away, you’re in something of a daze, and you blink up at him.

“Saved the best room for last,” he tells you, reaching down to take your hand and lead you down the hallway to the final door.

His room truly is the most impressive of them all, a master bedroom if you’ve ever seen one. With floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall, and a large space fitting a bed as well as a seating area, tv and fireplace, you think you could be very satisfied spending a lot of time here.

“Wow, John,” you let out a breath. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you actually live here-”

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

“If this is a cave, I never want to go back to a real house,” you laugh.

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being in his embrace. And that’s when you feel something hard beginning to press against your bum.

Turning in his arms, you look up into Johnny’s chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

You can definitely feel the outline of his cock against your abdomen now, and his hands reach down to find your hips, anchoring you to the front of his body while his tongue glides against your own.

“John,” you moan when his lips move to your neck, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue grazes your sweet spot and you shiver in his embrace, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him.

“More than I’ve ever needed anything,” you tell him, meaning it with all of your heart.

With a groan, Johnny reaches down, grabbing your ass and prompting you to jump so you can wrap your legs around his hips. In just a few steps, he can lower you to his bed, and you expect him to follow, to press you against the mattress with his large body-

But instead, he pulls away, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, reaching down to play with the bottom of your dress. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’ll taste on my tongue.”

Your pussy throbs at the idea, and you gaze up at him with a body alight in anticipation. “Then… then you should taste me, John.”

The bear hybrid lets out another groan, and then he’s falling to his knees on the edge of the bed, large hands grabbing at your legs to pull you closer.

His lips find your calf, and then your knee. When his face is between your thighs, his pretty ears brush your skin and make you shiver.

“Ticklish?” he grins, continuing to pepper your thighs with soft kisses.

“Very,” you confirm, reaching down to pull the skirt of your dress higher, revealing your underwear to the man between your legs.

“Shit, Bee,” Johnny says, voice shaky as he looks at your core. “You’re soaked through your panties,” at first, his words make heat rise through your body, embarrassment- but then Johnny’s taking a deep breath, and he looks up at you when he comments, “It’s so hot.”

His hands grab at your hips, and in one motion, he’s pulled your pussy to his mouth, tongue pressing against the light pink fabric of your underwear.

It feels amazing, but it’s also such a tease- you can feel the wetness of his own tongue, but it’s just out of reach.

“Johnny, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips forward, wanting more-

His nose brushes by your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, a gasp of pleasure leaving you as you throw your head back and close your eyes.

His fingers hook in your panties, and it’s a relief when he finally pulls them down your legs, discarding them over his shoulder before diving into your pussy. This time, there’s no fabric in his way, and his tongue licks at you directly, a sensation that drives you completely wild.

“John, it’s so good-” you groan, feeling the need to praise the man who pushes his tongue into your core.

He moans in response, and the vibration has your body tingling. You could get lost in something like this, and you can already feel your mind going practically blank. All that matters is the here and now, you and Johnny.

His nose brushes your clit again and a squeal of delight escapes you, your hands flying to grab at his soft hair and fuzzy ears. “John-”

He pulls his tongue out of your wet hole, licking a full stipe of your pussy before he begins to circle your clit, and you swear you’re in heaven.

You can feel tension building in the pit of your stomach, and you know you’re not going to last long like this. No one’s ever eaten you out before with such vigor, such a need to have you like putty in his hands, and you’re more than happy to comply. In fact, you don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself.

His lips suction around your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, your grip tightening in his hair, which only makes him groan again. You gasp at the feeling, pushing your hips up, needing more contact-

“I’m close,” you whisper, pussy throbbing as he worships your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, you feel something else, a finger slipping into your tight hole, and you let out another sound of pleasure. One digit becomes two, and they crook up expertly, reaching a spot that has you crying out.

“That’s it,” Johnny says, pulling just off your pussy, breath teasing your entrance. “I want you to cum, Bee. Want you to cum so bad-”

You let out a strangled gasp from the praise, and when his lips return to your clit, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you know you’re going to be a goner.

You pull on his hair, legs shaking as you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. When Johnny growls, the vibrations are enough to send you over, and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, whole body overcome with pleasure that brings a tear to your eye due to the intensity of it all.

He continues his motions, helping you through your high until you’re wiggling in his gasp. His free hand smooths against your abdomen, keeping you still while his tongue and fingers begin to slow.

When he pulls his mouth away, you can finally take a full breath, shuddering in the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“You’re just like you were in my dreams,” Johnny tells you, pulling his fingers from your core to suck on. He lets out a groan at your taste. “Sweeter than honey.”

“Johnny,” you whisper his name, opening your eyes to look at the man who’s now standing by the edge of the mattress. “Need you now.”

“Let me just grab condoms,” he tells you, heading for the bedside table while tugging his shirt off.

Your pussy throbs just at the sight of him. He’s so big and built and bear-like, in the best possible way-

He undoes his pants, pulling out a condom package that he opens with his sharp teeth. Part of you thinks you should be getting naked too, especially when his briefs come down to join the pants on the floor, but as you watch him roll the rubber onto his large cock, you think maybe he’d enjoy it if the dress stays on… for just a little longer.

When Johnny turns to join you on the bed, you pat the space next to you. He quirks a brow, but follows through, falling flat onto his back. You take the opportunity to mount him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips while you adjust your skirts, letting them fall over you both delicately.

“You can take this off of me in a minute,” you tell him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “but you’ve always told me how much you like my dresses, so I thought-”

“You look amazing,” Johnny confirms, grabbing at your hips and urging you to grind down against his cock, which is caught between your bodies. “My cute princess.”

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips.

Johnny lets out a groan of appreciation and you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach under your dress, wrapping your fingers around his cock and squeezing, which earns another moan from the man who makes such perfect sounds.

“How am I going to fit this inside of me?” you ask.

“You can go slow,” he assures you, already panting from your hand alone.

You pull away from his lips, sitting up straight and lifting yourself so you can adjust him beneath you. As you begin to lower yourself on his cock, you find yourself moaning desperately from just the head and the way it stretches you out so well.

You’ve taken some well endowed men before, and the tactic that always worked was small bounces, allowing your pussy to get used to the intrusion as you slowly work your way to fullness. However, Johnny’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had.

“Relax,” he tells you, rubbing circles on your hips through your dress. “Take your time, princess.”

But you don’t want to take your time, you want him inside of you, completely. You want to feel him everywhere, and soon, you’re fully sinking down on his cock, eagerly bending over to press your lips to his again while you both moan at the feeling.

You begin to ride him, thighs straining with the effort, but the reward is worth the muscle ache, and you get lost in the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Johnny begins to meet your thrusts, abdominal muscles flexing with effort while his tongue invades your mouth and he eats up your sweet sounds.

“As much-” Johnny breaks your kiss, gasping. “As much as I like your dress, I want to see you.”

You straighten again, easily pulling the fabric from your body so all that’s left is your bra. You begin to reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, but Johnny beats you to it, sitting up and easily removing the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

“Shit,” Johnny groans, cupping one of your breasts with his large hand while his lips find your other nipple. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair while your pussy clenches around his cock.

Johnny moans beneath you, pulling his mouth from your breasts. He looks up at you with a wildly desperate expression. “Can I take over?” he asks, breathless. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

“Please.” No sooner is the word out of your mouth than his hand is securing around the small of your back and he’s rolling you both, pressing you down against the mattress as his large body dwarfs your own.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.”

Johnny laughs. “You got it, Bee.”

His lips find your neck, and you close your eyes, grabbing at his strong shoulders as his hips begin to move.

Now that he’s on top, he’s somehow fucking you even deeper than before, and each glide of his cock against your inner walls has your toes curling in pleasure.

He sucks on your sweet spot, making you gasp as his movements get rougher and rougher, the bed beginning to rock from the force of his thrusts.

“John,” you whimper, body alight from the feeling of him, “Don’t stop-”

He only grins, fucking you harder, one hand lifting your leg higher on his hip so his cock can hit a spot deep inside of you that has you gasping-

“Oh my god-”

“Close already, Bee?” Johnny chuckles.

“You just feel so good,” you tell him.

You’ve never experienced anything like this, and you’re not sure if it’s due to his big cock, his ability to use it, or the fact that you actually sort of love the guy you’re literally making love to.

“That makes two of us,” Johnny says, kissing you again and taking your breath away.

You try to focus on his lips, to slow the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hard to distract from the cock that's splitting you open like nothing ever has before.

“Shit,” your bear hybrid breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “If you keep making sounds like that, I’m not going to last long-”

“Me neither,” you confess, although he already knew that. “John… you’ll cum with me, right?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” he groans, fingers flexing against your hips. “You’re already so tight, if you cum, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.”

You moan at his words, stroking your fingers across his strong back. “Please, I’m so close-”

The bear hybrid practically growls, and the sound goes straight to your core, making you throb around his cock.

“You feel so good, I’m going insane-” you continue your praise, as every time you speak, he somehow fucks you harder. You’re not quite sure where he’s getting his stamina from, but you’ll never be one to complain about it.

Johnny lets go of your hip, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

A strangled moan escapes you at the contact, your eyes clenching shut as your body is suddenly teetering on the edge-

“Cum for me, Bee,” he pants against your throat, “I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your entire body tenses as pleasure erupts through you, muscles screaming at how good everything feels. Gasping sounds slip past your lips, and you hold onto Johnny’s shoulders tightly, mind completely blank as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you.

The bear hybrid lets out groans of his own, hips twitching as he fills the condom, fucking you through all the pleasure. When he kisses you, you’re already breathless, and his lips don’t help the situation. You’re completely overwhelmed by Johnny, and you’ve never loved anything more.

As you come down from your highs, his thrusts slow, and he stills on top of you, cock buried deep in your pussy while you both catch your breaths.

“Wow,” Johnny says, laughing a little to himself as his kisses move to your neck again. “That was even better than my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me a lot, haven’t you, Big Bear?” you grin, tracing nothings on his shoulders.

“More than I care to admit.” He swallows thickly. “And something tells me the dreams will only continue.”

“They better,” you smile up at him when he pulls away from your throat.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

With one last kiss to your lips, Johnny rolls off of you and stands up. You can’t help but watch him as he heads to the ensuite bathroom. His body is the most perfect thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing.

You take a few breaths while you wait for him to come back, trying to ground yourself.

After the bathroom, Johnny heads into his walk-in closet, coming out a moment later in a pair of black briefs. “I got you a shirt,” he says, holding it out for you. “As much as I love that dress, I think this might be more comfortable for you.”

“Thanks, Big Bear,” you grin, taking it and putting it on. The fabric swallows you up, and you smile at how good it feels to be wearing his clothes.

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“I’d love that,” you say, sitting up.

“Good,” he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet before finding your panties on the floor. “Here, you might want these too.”

You laugh, accepting the underwear and bending over to slip them on.

“So what’s on the menu, chef?” you ask, following him out of the bedroom.

“Well, I know it’s not much, but I was thinking avocado toast.”

“Sounds perfect,” you grin, padding down the stairs after him to the main floor.

In the kitchen, you take a seat at the large island table, watching him as he heads to the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients.

You’re once again struck by how wonderful the silences can be with John. There’s no pressure to fill them with words, and you can simply relax while you watch your Big Bear hybrid work.

His muscles are particularly enthralling as he pulls out a knife and opens the avocado, setting half of it down before he begins to peel off the skin.

“Look at you go,” you smile, “opening that bad boy like a pro.”

Johnny flashes you a look and then lets out a laugh. “I used to absolutely brutalize avocados,” he confesses. “Yuta’s dad owns a sushi restaurant in Japan, so he knows how to do all this cooking stuff. The first time he saw me open one of these he nearly had an aneurysm.”

“Was it that bad?”

“I used to leave the peel on, slice it up, and then try to scoop it out with a spoon,” Johnny grins at the memory. “So yeah, pretty bad.”

You’d never have guessed Johnny would have had such humble beginnings with knife wielding, but you suppose everyone starts somewhere.

You enjoy watching his hands while he works, laying the peeled avocado flat while he slices it in perfect chunks. He’d put bread in the oven at the start, and as he finishes up with the avocado, he pulls the pan of toast out, the colour a nice golden brown.

“Do you make this sort of thing often?” you ask.

“Often enough,” Johnny nods. “Winnie likes her avocados almost as much as her honey.” He places the green slices on the bread, using a fork to press them down before he grabs salt and pepper.

“Can’t wait to try it,” you grin.

“There’s just one last ingredient though,” Johnny tells you, finding a jar of honey sitting on the counter. You watch as he drizzles the golden liquid on top of the avocado, and you can’t help but find the bear hybrid incredibly charming. “There we go,” he smiles, putting all the pieces onto a plate before coming around the table to join you on the bar stools.

“Cheers,” you say, holding up one slice for Johnny to gently touch with his own.

“To the bears, the bees, and the honey that connects them,” he muses.

“To us,” you agree, picking up on the metaphor.

You know that there’s technically nothing special about avocado toast, but it’s still one of the best things you’ve eaten in ages, and you find yourself groaning after the first bite.

“Is it really that good?” Johnny laughs, watching your expressions with a smile.

“Better than good,” you confirm. “If running a club doesn’t work out, you could always be a chef.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny nods with a smile. “You haven’t even tried my barbecue yet.”

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

The bear laughs at your comment, and you realize too late the sexual connotation of your words.

“I didn’t mean-” you go to correct yourself, but you end up face palming instead, letting out a groan.

“You’re too cute,” Johnny assures you, resting a hand on your knee. “Hey, listen, if you want me to drive you home, I can, but… how would you feel about staying the night?”

“Really?” you blink at him.

He nods. “Really.”

“I think I’d love that,” you admit.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. Mi casa es su casa.”

You smile at the notion of his house being your house. “Since when did you speak Spanish?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Well,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, “I can’t wait to find out more.”

Johnny had closed the blinds last night, so when you wake up in a literal man cave, you kind of want to see the sun. However, Johnny looks so peaceful lying next to you, his plump lips just slightly parted, his fluffy ears twitching from whatever is happening in his dream land- and you think it would be a shame to wake him so abruptly to the light.

You take the time to appreciate him, wondering how you ever got so lucky to end up where you are now. You’d always had a crush on him, but you’d never expected it to be anything more.

You’re so happy that he’d felt the same way you had. If he’d never made a move and asked you out, well- you don’t want to think about that.

When you shift ever so slightly, Johnny’s eyes open, and he squints at you, letting out a groan. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice gruff from sleep.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him. “Are you waking up now?”

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

“I guess I’m used to waking up at this time,” you note.

“Do you have to go? Is there work?”

“I’m thinking of calling in sick, that is… if you want me to spend the day with you.”

“Fuck, yes please.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m just going to step out to make the call, and when I come back, do you mind if I open these blinds? I know this is your bear cave and all, but if you’re going to sleep a little longer, I’d love some light to read a book or something.”

Johnny only groans, but you take it as an affirmative as you untangle yourself from his grasp.

Five minutes later, the room is lit with sunshine and you’re slipping into bed next to him again. Your family has always been extra close with the owner of Queen B’s Honey, so calling in had been simple, and you’re excited about what your day with Johnny will bring.

You’ve found a book to read, some fiction off Johnny’s bookshelf, and when you get under the covers, Johnny is quick to cuddle up next to you again. “Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, voice as groggy as ever.

“Of course, Big Bear,” you smile, adjusting to allow him to curl up next to you. He lets out a deep breath once he’s settled, and you smooth your hands through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his ear.

Johnny lets out a deep groan. “Feels good.”

He falls asleep just seconds later, and you continue stroking him while you read.

Time flies by, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when Johnny finally wakes up again. He lets out a soft groan, cuddling closer to your side. “Good morning.”

“Hi, sleepy bear.”

“I had dreams about you,” he says softly.

“You did?”

“Uh huh,” his hand strokes by your thigh.

“What happened in your dream?” you press, gently scratching his fluffy ear.

Johnny lets out a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Was it something bad?”

“Something good,” he confirms. “It involved a few cubs running around.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. “Wow, John, I didn’t know you were really thinking that far ahead in the future for us.”

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, rolling onto his back to look up at you. “I know we’ve only had a few dates, but… well, I’ve been into you for months. It’s at a point where I don’t even really look at other girls, and I’m fine if you don’t want to be exclusive or anything-”

“Who said I don’t want to be exclusive?”

A lazy smile covers Johnny’s face, and he sits up, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You really want to give this a try?”

“I’d be stupid not to, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I’ve met girls who will only see me as a hybrid, as someone to mess around with for a little while before finding a human partner again. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t see a future for us.”

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

“I guess not,” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

You feel so blessed to be able to give this a shot with Johnny, a real shot. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and as he pulls you into his arms, you have a feeling that everything is going to work out better than either of you could possibly imagine.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you've made it to the end and want something else to read, check out Hyuck's hybrid fic here, or more of Nikki's work on her masterlist here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “Give me a sec and I’ll pull off to a residential street,” he tells you, flicking his turn signal on. “It will take a minute or two longer to get home, but something tells me you won’t mind.” He’s literally the perfect man, and you’re working to get his zipper undone the moment you’re off the main road. Johnny lifts his hips, helping you tug his jeans down just enough to get at your prize.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, blowing Johnny while he drives, hand job, sex outside in the forest on a car, car sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, quickie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Bee, Princess. (his) Big Bear, John.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

Going to a baseball game is one of your favourite family outings. Between you, Johnny, his sister, and his sister’s husband, the four adults can handle the four cubs that run around you like excitable little rascals at all times.

Hotdogs and popcorn are cheap, and Winnie, as the oldest of the group of kids, spends the whole game explaining what’s happening to your sons, who are much too young to care about baseball.

You and Johnny sit on either side of Winnie, each holding a wiggling three year old twin in your arms. Winnie’s mom and her dad are in the row just in front of you, their own two year old in their grasp.

“So now,” the nearly ten year old Winnie explains to the toddler in your arms, “the bases are fully loaded, and the game is almost over, so the guy with the big bum has to make this hit-”

Johnny murmurs the name of the player up to bat, but Winnie ignores him. She has names for each man on the pitch, and it just so happens that the man swinging has the biggest butt.

The crack of the ball against the bat alights the stadium in cheers as everyone at their bases begin to run, and Johnny stands, holding his toddler while he watches. His baseball cap is backward, but it’s still clear by the jersey he’s wearing that he’s a home pitch superfan. “Go, go, go!” he screams. “Run, butt guy, run!”

You love him, and your perfect family.

You stand too, as this last run of the game is important to your evening plans. If your home team wins, Johnny’s sister will take your twins for the night and give you and Johnny some alone time. However, if her away team wins, you and Johnny are on babysitting duty.

“Go, butt guy! Go!” Winnie cheers, and you find it almost comical how the little girl has no clue that she’s helping cheer on the odds of her sweet Uncle John getting laid.

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general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

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@lovelyhan

✘ nct taglist

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and thanks to those who reblogged the teaser :)

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#johnny fanfic #johnny smut #nct fanfic #nct smut #bear hybrid!johnny #SLAY #ATE #FED

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unoriginalmess · 3 years ago

Text

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

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To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

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And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

#a second mask #feralnette #feralnette au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #here it finally is #idk why some of the tags arent working

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justmypartner · 3 years ago

Text

Still Breathing: Chapter 1

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!!! I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s taken me quite a bit to finally get started, but I’m super excited about it. This probably won’t be a weekly fic, but I’ll try and post as frequently as possible. I don’t want to give too much away… but it explores something in the Halstead background that has been referenced, but never fully developed so I really tried to dive deep into what it is and how it would affect Jay. It’s been fun (and somewhat emotional) to work through & I really hope you enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

“Order, Arms,” a voice called out, sending Hailey’s hand back down to her side.

She remained in place, frozen as she resumed attention, fighting hard to conceal the joy spilling out of her. It was her graduation day. She was just sworn in, and for the first time ever, deemed an Officer of the Chicago Police Department. She took in the room from under the low brim of her hat, her lips curling up at the corners as the Department Pipes and Drums began to play. She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the moment, and when she opened, she was suddenly somewhere else entirely. She was no longer standing in the middle of the Grand Ballroom at Navy Pier. She still wore those same blues from before, slightly older and more worn than they once were, but her bright, green attitude she previously bore was gone. She was exhausted and nervous, sitting before her District Commander in a small and unfamiliar room in Ivory Tower.

“Hailey, I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are not to discuss the case with anyone, nothing you did, nothing you saw, not a single detail that pertains to the operation is to be exchanged until you are told otherwise by the AUSA’s office,” the Commander instructed her, carrying an even tone that made the reason for the meeting hard to discern.

“Yes ma’am,” Hailey affirmed with a simple nod.

“With that being said, I have news for you. There will be a more formal presentation of this news, but for now I get to be the first to tell you,” the Commander spoke, inhaling deeply before continuing. “Officer Hailey Upton, for your outstanding acts of heroism and performance during the aforementioned case, on behalf of the Superintendent of Police, the Bureau of Detectives, and the entirety of the Chicago Police Department, we commend your service with a merit promotion to the ranking of Detective.”

Her brows raised in surprise. After the long stretch undercover, she was just happy to finally be Hailey again, to be in her home, to be able to work with the safety and familiarity of her coworkers. She had spent those weeks hoping the case would lend her a promotion, but she never fully imagined that it would. She was equal parts ecstatic and stunned by the news, but she blinked, and she was transported once again. She was no longer sitting across from her District Commander but from Sergeant Voight in the low light of his office.

“Our only Detective just recently and unexpectedly took furlough. Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, we’ve been trying to make do with just us, but we’re stretched thin. There’s a spot on our team and we could really use the help. It’s yours if you want it,” his gravelly voice posited.

Before she knew it, those moments that stood out so vividly in her mind became fuzzy images in what seemed like a poorly put together movie, and everything began to fade to black.

When she finally woke, it was to the sound of machines and the low babel of indistinct conversation. As her eyes blinked open, she took in the glimpse of four familiar faces and numerous wires and IVs hooked up to her body.

She hadn’t been in Intelligence long, only about two weeks before she wound up in that hospital room, but she knew from her first day that she had stumbled upon her forever people. She didn’t take the job with this expectation. In fact, she was expecting it to be as rocky as her first time working with the team. Yet, she came to learn that despite the reputation that preceded them, they were some of the most loyal and genuine people she had met in all of her time with the CPD. In only the short amount of time she had been with them, they had clung to her in a way nobody else ever had, developing what she knew to be a lifelong bond. The fact that their faces were the first she saw when she finally came to only affirmed that.

“There she is!” Kevin’s voice rang as they all rose, making their way closer to her bedside.

“Did we get them?” Her voice croaked, and they all nodded in confirmation, looking over to their sergeant to deliver the news.

Her memory of right before everything went dark was fuzzy. She wasn’t exactly sure what caused the injuries that left her aching all over, but everything else, the case, the targets, it was all still fresh in her mind. She didn’t want to talk about the case. She didn’t even want to think about it, but she needed to know if they got them. That everything that happened was worth it. She breathed out, allowing a sliver of tension that had been bottled up inside of her release with it. She watched them nod, and she waited for her boss to tell her what she needed to hear.

“We got ‘em, kid. They’re going down for everything, but most importantly for what they did to you,” he assured. She nodded, flinching at the surge of pain that came with the small movement.

“Okay, everybody. I need some time with the patient if you don’t mind,” the doctor announced as she entered the room. They all nodded, grabbing their things to leave.

“I’m happy you’re okay,” Kim told her, reaching out and briefly resting a hand over hers. Voight and Adam nodded in agreement before they all turned to walk out.

“Tough as they come, girl. Glad you’re still with us,” Kevin said, reaching out his arm and fist for her to bump. She smiled, bumping him back with her uninjured arm and thanking them all for being there.

Once they had left the room, the doctor quickly read over her chart before rolling a chair over to her.

“So, give me the rundown. How bad is it?” Hailey questioned anxiously.

“You were shot three times. Twice in the abdomen, once in the shoulder. That vest of yours caught the first two. However, they did leave some pretty significant bruising so we are going to need to monitor you closely, make sure you don’t develop any internal bleeding or rupture. The one in your shoulder was a through and through. We were able to go in and repair what it tore, but you lost a lot of blood. So, you should get comfortable. We’re going to need to keep you here for observation a few days. Looks like you’ll be out of work for the next week at the least, then out of the field for a few weeks after that,” She explained. Hailey just nodded simply in response, a look of defeat on her face.

“Detective, it could have been a lot worse had you not been wearing that vest. It also could have been a lot worse if that bullet in your shoulder struck just a half a centimeter lower. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I’d say you’re pretty lucky,” she admitted, rising from her chair before dropping her chart at the end of the bed and making her way out of the room.

Lucky. It wasn’t the word she’d use to describe how she was feeling. On top of the pain, she was reeling from that vision she had just before her breathing stalled and everything shut off. She’d always heard people say their life flashed before their eyes in those kind of moments, but she never expected it to be such a deflating experience. Her life flashed before her eyes, but the only outstanding moments were her graduation from the academy, her promotion to detective, and her offer into Intelligence. She loved her job, and she was proud of those moments, but it felt disillusioning that in what felt like her final moments, the only good memories her brain could come up with tied back to her job. A job that too often reminded her of all of the bad in the world. A job that had landed her there in the first place.

She didn’t want to fully think about what happened. She wasn’t emotionally prepared for it. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment before she lost consciousness, when those memories flashed through her mind. It made her realize just how empty her life had been. Her injuries may not have necessarily been life threatening, but she felt as though she was getting a second chance. A second chance to get more out of life than a few job related accomplishments in her end-of-life film reel. A second chance to be intentional about making more memories.

- - - -

A few days had gone by, and she was still in the hospital. She was already feeling better, more than ready to go home, but her doctor extended her stay, wanting to monitor her and her labs. She spent a lot of time in her room, keeping her mind busy with a few books Kim had brought her, but getting distracted by whatever rerun was playing on the small tv screen in the corner of the room. She didn’t have any visitors, something that only added to the epiphany about her life that had her rattled from the moment she woke. Her Intelligence family was practically all she had. They stopped by when they could, but for the most part they were all busy at work, leaving her alone to herself and the occasional check in from various medical staff. Boredom was growing with each passing minute, and she thought about how hard it would be to survive a few weeks out of the field if she couldn’t even make it through a few days in the hospital.

Having enough of sitting in the hospital bed, she was able to convince a nurse to let her sneak out for a walk around the hospital. She felt like a mess. She was dressed head to toe in sweats, her right arm was in a sling, and the look was pulled together with a pair of socks and sandals. Not exactly the most flattering outfit, but she had reached the level of restlessness that left her unaffected by her appearance. She just needed to be out of that room.

She got another book in the gift shop and stopped by the cafeteria where she found some chocolate ice cream. She tucked the book into her sling as she walked about the halls, shoveling the snack into her mouth with each step. She finally climbed into the elevator, and pressed the button for her floor before settling into the back corner. Every bit seemed better than the last. She wasn’t sold on the hospital food. It reminded her of grade school cafeteria food, something she was never fond of, so she knew that ice cream would be the only good thing she had to eat all day. The elevator stopped at the next floor and a man stepped in, pressing a button before settling into the corner across from her. She briefly looked up at him with a friendly nod before looking back down into the cup in her hand for another bite. Suddenly, a movement across the car brought her attention back to him. He had pulled a needled syringe from his pocket and began pressing it into his forearm. Her posture straightened and she froze as she watched him repeatedly stab his arm with the needle.

“Trypanophobia… don’t worry, it’s a prop needle,” he broke through the silence, and she relaxed slightly as he continued to speak.

“You know? The ones they use in movies that don’t actually pierce the skin. My idiot brother said the best way to overcome my fear of needles is exposure therapy, starting with these fake ones. Yet, I’ve been in and out of this hospital for several weeks now, plenty exposed to these things, and I still can’t seem to get used to the poking and prodding,” the man said, flashing her a shy smile as he continued pushing the needle into his arm.

“Seems like pretty sound advice to me. Maybe your idiot brother isn’t such an idiot after all,” she responded back with amusement.

“Yeah, well he may be a doctor, but he’s also my older brother which, in my eyes, makes him an idiot by default,” he said matter-of-factly, immediately looking up at her with a curl in his lips.

“Ah, well I have 2 brothers myself, so I suppose I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment,” she smirked, looking over at him from the other side of the elevator.

She discretely eyed him as he busied his focus back on the syringe in his hand. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and a shirt that fit a little too tight, revealing toned muscles underneath with every movement. The beanie he wore fully covered his head but based on the freckles all across his face and the darkness of his eyebrows, she had to guess he was a redhead, maybe even a brunette. His face was clean shaven, which made it hard to tell just how old he was, but his eyes were what had her. They were an entrancing blend of green and blue, and they gave off a sort of friendly warmth that mellowed out his somewhat intimidating deportment.

“What landed you in here?” He asked, continuing to mindlessly press the object into his arm.

“I- injured on the job,” she put simply.

“Been there,” he said directly, his obscurity matching hers. Her brow furrowed briefly before silence filled the small space and she centered her focus back on the ice cream in her hand.

“Are you doing anything right now, you know, besides stuffing your face with diabetes?” He queried, cutting through the silence and nodding to the cup of ice cream in her hand. She scoffed sarcastically.

“Why do you ask?” She questioned dubiously, trying to keep a lightness in her voice. “Also, I’ll have you know this is the only decent thing to eat this hospital has to offer. I survived a few bullets, I’m sure a little sugar won’t kill me,” she replied. He chuckled as she scooped up a large bite and shoveled it into her mouth with pride.

“Fair enough. And I ask because I have some time to kill, so I just wanted to see if you cared to join me for a little golf on the roof,” he said.

“There isn’t golf on the roof,” she shook her head, amused by the way he proposed it so factually.

“Oh, but there is,” he returned. She squinted her eyes at him in disbelief, and he quickly pressed the elevator button for the roof. She didn’t believe him, but she was bored. Out of her mind. So, she reluctantly decided to follow him. When the elevator stopped at the rooftop, he led her out to an opening with a small patch of turf, two clubs, and a basket of golf balls.

“What the hell? You were serious?” she laughed.

“Yeah, I was serious. I never joke about golf,” He said frankly, grabbing a golf club and placing the ball on the tee.

“Is this even allowed?” She asked, placing her empty cup down as she watched him swing the club into the ball. Her eyes travelled it as it flew from the roof, and she brought her eyes back to him, a staggered look on her face.

“Probably not, but like I said, my idiot brother is a doctor, so if we get caught I’ll just blame it on him,” he smiled, flashing her a wink before hitting another ball off the tee. “Do you want to try?” He asked, offering her a club.

“Don’t think that’s even possible,” she returned, raising her slinged arm slightly to make her point.

“That’s no excuse,” he said, “Come here,” he instructed. She gave in, making her way over toward him.

Close up, his eyes were more green than blue, and they were so beautiful that she found herself getting lost in them for a second. She snapped back into focus when he offered her the club. She took it, and he helped her adjust her feet so that she was standing properly. He placed a ball on the tee, took a step back, and motioned for her to have at it.

She wound the shot up with her uninjured arm and struck the ball. She was still sore from her injuries, and the movement of the swing sent a surge of pain through her torso. She flinched, chipping the top of the ball in the follow through. They both erupted in laughter when the ball barely went but a few feet in front of them, and she dropped the club to the ground to clutch at her abdomen.

“Okay, so maybe you were right,” he laughed, his mood dropping the second he noticed she was in pain. “Hey, are you okay?” He inspected, reaching a supportive hand through the small distance between them.

“Yeah, just still a little sore,” she admitted, stepping back as she forced a smile to hide her pain. He just nodded and she stepped back to lean against the wall. He was silent, but she could sense he was thinking hard about something.

“So injured on the job, huh?” He finally asked. “You mentioned something about surviving a bullet, so what exactly is your job? Bank Robber? Spy? Assassin?” He bantered. She pursed her lips into a wry smile, shaking her head with a weak laugh.

“Mm. You pay attention. I’m a Cop. Detective more specifically. It was uh…” she hadn’t fully addressed how everything had went down yet. The case wasn’t one she wanted to particularly think about, and as the memories from moments before the shooting slowly came back, she immediately pushed them down. She still wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Especially not to some stranger she met in an elevator only 15 minutes before.

“Things took a turn quickly. I took two to the vest, one in the shoulder,” she finally got out, remaining vague through her wording.

His movements stilled, and he looked over at her, a concerned yet knowing look on his face.

“Through and through?” He asked her. She nodded bleakly.

“I’ve had a similar injury,” she noticed his jaw clench with his words. “I was a cop too,” he eventually admitted, a sullen look falling upon his face.

“Was?” She questioned.

“I mean, I guess I technically still am, but it doesn’t feel like it,” he adumbrated. She noticed he was being cryptic, but despite her own curiosity she could tell it wasn’t something he was prepared to talk about. It got quiet as she weighed whether or not to question him further. She settled against it, and in desperate need to change the subject, her attention fell back upon the golf setup. She nodded her head towards it to redirect the conversation.

“So why do you have this here?” She asked him. She watched as he sucked his teeth, pulling his tongue back with a pop before answering.

“I was diagnosed with Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer several weeks ago. Started chemotherapy not long after that, and as I mentioned before, needles are not my favorite thing, so I come up here before each treatment… calm my nerves a bit,” he admitted. Her face fell. She put two and two together, figuring that was his reason behind not feeling like a cop anymore. She quickly realized her problems, her boredom, everything she’d complained about in the past few days really didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It also in a way reminded her of that second chance she seemed to have gotten. She was suddenly both inspired and confused about where she stood in the way she viewed her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Oh, none of that. No room for sorry or sadness up here. Only golf,” he quipped, forcing a smile and turning his attention back to the golf ball on the ground before whacking it from the roof.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket, bringing her attention away from him.

Where are you? Kev and I brought you some food, but your room is empty.

It was a text from Kim. After reading it, she looked up at the man. She had a strange desire to stay up there with him, to watch him hit golf balls from the roof and get to know more about him, but she knew her friends would send the entire hospital after her if she didn’t show a sign of life.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” she said, slipping her phone back in her pocket and pushing herself from the wall.

“Hey, what’d I say about sorry?” He smirked, resting the club on the ground and leaning against it as he stepped towards her.

“How much longer are you stuck here?” he asked, tilting his head with his words.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure. Doctors haven’t been able to give me a clear answer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. It was nice to meet you um…” he let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t know your name,” he said sheepishly.

“Hailey. I’m Hailey,” she smirked, extending her uninjured hand for him to shake. He grabbed it, shaking it back lightly and slowly. As he peered into her eyes, an abnormal feeling overcame her. It was almost a sense of familiarity, like he wasn’t a stranger she had just met, but someone she’d known her whole life. It was the look in his eyes and the comfort of his touch, and it was a feeling that took her by surprise. Nonetheless, the feeling was gone as quickly as it came, and they pulled apart as he parted his lips to speak.

“Nice to meet you, Hailey,” he said, his free hand finding way to his pocket. Her phone buzzed again, another text from Kim, and she knew she had to get back to her room before they sent the entirety of Chicago searching for her. She gave him one last smile before turning towards the elevators. As she settled in and pressed the button for her floor, she looked up to see him watching her every movement. She quickly looked down at her feet with this realization, remembering how she was dressed and suddenly regretting leaving her room like that. She was grateful when he finally turned, directing his attention back to the golf balls on the ground.

“Wait,” she said, throwing her free hand up to the elevator doors as they began to close. He twisted around, his eyes carrying a gentle, curious look.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she called out.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped himself, his eyes looking up and dropping quickly as if he’d forgotten his name and was waiting for it to fall from the sky.

“Just remember me as the stranger from the elevator,” he finally said slyly.

She frowned, but he just returned her look with taut smirk. When it was clear that was all he was going to offer, she backed up into the elevator, an annoyed and skeptical smile on her face as she allowed the doors to fall shut.

She acted on autopilot for the rest of the afternoon, distracted by the encounter with the stranger. She wasn’t an at first sight kind of person. Love, admiration, attraction, feelings, they weren’t things she typically felt from the jump. It took time and trust for her to develop those things that some could develop in a first encounter. Yet, with this guy, something was different. From the ride down to the elevator, to dinner in her room with her friends, to the moment her head touched the uncomfortable hospital pillow that night, the stranger and some unexplainable feeling about him lingered in her mind like a bad hangover. He was aloof and smug, but something about that combination left her wanting more. More about his story, about his quirks, about everything that made him seem so interesting.

It took her a while to find sleep, as it had every night prior that she had spent in that hospital, but that night it was for another reason. It wasn’t just the discomfort of the bed or the unfamiliarity of the room that left her restless. It was the image of the stranger’s well-pleased grin in her mind, his blue-green eyes sparkling at her, and her own curiosity keeping her up late into the night. Every part of her hoped that she would see him again. She couldn’t quite explain it, but the timing of it all made her think she was meant to meet him for some undiscovered reason. That gave her just enough hope that their encounter wasn’t just a one time thing. She had a strong feeling she was going to see him again.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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gideongrace · 5 years ago

Note

5 & 23 from the ace prompts 🤩

5. "I have been waiting for you my entire life."

23. "You are not allowed to die first, got it?"

Okay, this one had me stuck for like, a week. I just couldn't come up with anything for it that wasn't super cheesy and tropey and cliche. But then I just decided to be cheesy and tropey and cliche instead anyway.

(And to everyone else that sent prompts, sorry! I did get them, I am getting to them! I just also sorta got carried away by plotting out that amnesia steve fic…)

Billy runs in through the front doors of the hospital at full speed, ready to roar and to scream and to tear the place apart but instead of any of that, he takes a deep breath, adjusts the strap of his duffle bag that he suddenly realizes he had no need to drag inside and looks around for the front desk. This isn't the hospital he's used to, so he has no idea where it is.

And he can't find it.

He looks and he looks and he looks and still, he can't find it.

This isn't the hospital he's used to, he doesn't know anybody who works here and he's fresh off a really rough, really long shift.

He hadn't even gotten to go home and shower, he'd only just stepped out the door into the bright, warm, mid-afternoon sun, taken a single, deep breath and only just decided his plan of action was he was gonna go home, shower, then maybe go surprise Steve with a pizza when he'd gotten the phone call.

And he hasn't taken a single deep breath since. He just ran straight for his car, drove all the way across town to this neighborhood he doesn't know and this hospital he doesn't know and he tries to think of everything, of anything El's ever told him about PTSD or panic attacks, stuff she's said help people calm down when they're experiencing things like that, because he's experiencing something like that right now, he's got enough sense left to know that much but none of what she's said is sticking, none of it is applicable and -

The rage he's gotten so good at tamping down boils over in his blood and swims in his skin and he feels like he's gonna scream but instead he pulls at his hair, but he only manages to grab at too-short, freshly shaved sides with not near enough left on top and he takes a breath, and he's going to scream, he's going to scream -

But then there's a hand on his shoulder and a soft, sweet voice saying, "You need some help?" and everything in him crumbles as he turns to see a sweet-faced and tall (very, very tall) man in poorly-fitting light blue scrubs behind him.

"Uh, yeah," Billy says, somehow managing to get the words to push out past his numb, numb lips, "do you, uh, do you know where the, uh, front desk is?"

The guy nods, shaggy brown hair falling into his big, brown eyes. (It doesn't make Billy think of anybody. It doesn't.)

"Sure," the guy says, his hand still clamped to Billy's shoulder. "I'll show you."

He directs Billy towards a slightly labyrinthine-looking set of corridors that Billy had distinctly avoided and he does it still with his hand on Billy's shoulder, guiding him like a captain guides a ship, like he'd seen the look on Billy's face, the terror and the panic and he'd recognized it. It makes sense. El and Mike are always telling him people panicked about - about loved ones, those who really, truly care, they almost always have the same look, even if it's contained itself to just their eyes, it's always there, it's always present, that panic, that fear. And Billy guesses this guy, working in a hospital as he does, he's probably as familiar with that look as EMTs like El and Mike would be.

"Just right here. Ellen'll help you find who you're looking for," the guy says as he deposits Billy in front of the front desk with its big, red 'reception' sign, the one Billy wishes he could've - knows he should've - found on his own.

"Yeah, thanks," Billy says as the guy claps him on the back and wanders off, probably to help some other poor soul like the good, good dude he is.

Ellen, the nurse behind the desk, on the other hand, looks Billy up and down appraisingly, cold green eyes assessing, assessing, assessing and clearly finding him wanting somehow. Maybe it's the rough haircut he'd given himself, maybe it's the sweatpants and grungy white tank top he's wearing, maybe it's the big, fat, homemade "Station 52" logo patch on the front of his duffle bag that Max had custom made for him. Maybe this woman hates firefighters. Maybe she can tell that he's gay, can smell it on him and maybe she's homophobic.

Or maybe, the last five percent of his brain capable of rational thought tells him, maybe that's just her face and it's not personal.

"Who're you looking for, dear?" she asks, even though she clearly thinks he's anything but dear.

"Um, uh," he stammers and god, he hasn't been this awkward, hasn't said um and uh this much since middle school, "Steve Harrington?"

Her face tightens, her tall stack of thick gray hair wobbles just a little and Billy's stomach prepares itself for free fall, for bad news, for -

"Alright, he's in Room 357, just on the third floor-" and she keeps going, keeps giving instructions after that, but Billy doesn't hear them, is too overwhelmed with the taste, the feeling, the rush of sheer relief that hits him with the knowledge that Steve has a room number, which means that Steve has a room, which means that Steve hasn't died in the time it took him to drive here or in the time he spent wandering, lost. It means Steve isn't in surgery and these are both very, very good things.

That surge of joy fades out with a mewling whimper after Billy gets lost another two times looking for Steve's room, as it occurs to him, What if Steve's only not in surgery because he's too weak to survive it? and, Just because he wasn't dead however many minutes ago, doesn't mean he's not dead now.

And he still can't find the room, isn't even sure he's on the right floor anymore, but there is one thing he knows for sure, one thing he knows for certain:

Whenever he sees that partner of Steve's, Dustin whatever, he's gonna tear him limb from limb, gonna tear him apart, gonna rend flesh from bone for not telling him more over the phone than, "Steve's been shot and we're at St. Mary's, you should get here like, now."

As he wanders down yet another meaningless white hallway, he feels that rage boiling again, feels like he's going to lose it again until he turns a corner and sees a row of feet all clad in plain, dark, sensible shoes and looks up to see a line of officers, most still in uniform, all sitting stuffed end over end, just one too many in a row of old, creaky, metal and ugly navy felt hospital chairs.

He almost smiles at having finally, finally found them - because of course there's a whole crew of people waiting for his boy, of course there is, that's probably why the nurse at the front desk got so annoyed, there's at least ten people sitting and jamming up this small hallway and here he is, adding to it, but -

Then it occurs to him:

Why are all these people waiting here?

Why are they all…

He looks around at all their faces and each and every one of them has that pinched look, that capsized-rowboat-in-the-ocean look that Mike's told him about, that panicked look that loved ones get that El's talked about, that restless, hopeless rage that he's been feeling on and off since he got that call and if -

And if they all look the same way then maybe…

Then maybe those feelings he's been feeling aren't an overreaction like the last five percent of his brain capable of hope has been hoping, praying, wishing for it to be.

That last five percent shuts down and dies a quiet, lonely death as his eyes connect with those of one of the guys sitting in the middle of the row and he sees fear there, sees panic, and sees rage there.

He feels himself capsizing in the ocean of this near stranger's sad blue eyes and as his terror over this spreads he feels his stomach pick itself up and ready to launch at his lungs which have suddenly decided to forget what it is they're supposed to do, like they've ever had more than just the one job and now maybe they're just a little confused.

Billy himself is a lot confused, because he and this guy just keep staring at each other and nobody is saying anything.

Why is nobody saying anything?

Then someone comes stumbling into him from behind, saying, "Well, it certainly took you long enough," and it's Heather and the way she says it sets Billy's teeth on edge because he can't figure out her tone, can't figure out what she means and -

She points him in the direction of Steve's room, even if it's almost right in front of him and he's grateful, really, he's grateful (he's grateful and he's terrified) as she pushes him inside, not giving him the space nor the time to chicken out or run away.

And he lets out a sigh at the sight of Steve lying before him, lets out a sigh even as his heart ripples and creaks under the weight of his exhaustion.

He pulls a smooth, blue, and terribly squeaky plastic chair up to Steve's good side and tries to hold his breath, tries not to smell that cloying, abrasive antiseptic smell that fills the room, tries instead to imagine Steve's favorite cologne, that woodsy, citrusy one.

He tries not to focus on the IV in the back of Steve's hand, tries not to focus on the cannula in his nose, tries instead to think of Steve pressed up behind him in bed, of Steve's hands warm and comforting on his chest and Steve's nose pressed into his hair or the back of his neck and inhaling deeply.

He tries to ignore the thick, white, starchy-looking bandages covering Steve up from his left shoulder to his elbow, he tries to ignore the way Steve's eyes are closed and what that might mean, he tries to ignore all of that and just see Steve -

He tries to but he can't.

"I have been waiting for you my entire life," Billy says. He grabs Steve's hand and grips it tight. "You are not allowed to die first, got it?"

Steve surprises him by squeezing back and saying, "I'll try my best," and being an idiot and trying to sit up with a freaking bullet wound in his freaking arm.

Billy pushes him back to the bed with his free hand on his good shoulder and winds up positioned very awkwardly for a moment before Steve finally relents and lays back down.

What he says next makes it worse.

"I'm fine, though, you know."

Like it's nothing. Like getting shot is nothing. Billy supposes it's meant to be comforting, to be reassuring, but instead it makes Billy see red.

"You're in the hospital." Billy tries for soft, he really does. He wants to cradle Steve's face in his hands and press sweet, quiet kisses to his lips, but instead Steve said that and now he's snarling.

"Yeah," Steve says, voice either forced calm or drugged oblivious and Billy isn't sure which, "but it's okay, it didn't hit anything vital and the doc says I'll be fine in about a month or two."

"You're in the hospital," Billy says again, louder this time. He can feel himself growing claws and he feels overwhelmed, feels a need to claw at something, to scratch, to bite. To destroy.

Lucky for him, this is exactly when Dustin strolls in carrying flowers and looking particularly guilty.

Unlucky for him, Dustin says, "What the hell, man? I barely got to telling you we were here and you told me you were coming and hung up. Me and Heather tried calling you back like six times and no answer. We were just about to send someone out looking for you."

And.

"Oh." It's all Billy can think to say. Then, "Sorry."

But then Steve just has to pipe back in with, "See? If you'd let Dustin get to it, he'd have told you that I'm fine, too."

And boy, is that ever the wrong thing to say because it has Billy roaring with, "You are in a hospital with a bullet in your arm, Steve, you're not fine."

And Dustin politely interjecting with, "Okay, woah, woah, nobody said anything about you being fine. There's a lot of distance between you and 'fine' right now, Steve."

Steve's eyes narrow, that medicated calm sliding from his face even as Billy sees the last drops of whatever medication they've got him on dripping down from the bag and into the IV line.

"You literally came home with your hair singed last week," Steve says, like he thinks the fact that they both have dangerous jobs is somehow going to win him this argument.

"Yeah, and that was just my hair! You're in the hospital!" Billy shouts. This time, he fully shouts because apparently, Steve's not going to get it unless it's screamed at him.

"And I'm fine!"

Or maybe he's just not going to get it at all.

From the doorway, Dustin laughs and Billy is on him in a second.

"What's so funny?" he snarls but Dustin keeps laughing.

"Just…" he says, unable to stop laughing even as he's trying to speak, "Just say 'I love you' and get it over with, already, both of you."

Steve's face goes as tomato red as Billy's suddenly feels.

But neither of them says it. Neither of them says anything.

fic tag squad:

@a-magey @xgardensinspace @myboyfriendsteve @haxpr0cess @thinger-strang @nagdabbit @demi-don @lissieisspacey @tracy7307 @ihni @yourneighborhoodace

@harringrovetrashh

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #harringrove fic #misc au #angst #modern #gideonwrites #asexual #asexual fic collection #asexuality

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ithappensoffstage · 5 years ago

Link

Look, I'm a simple person--I see Alexsandr Kallus, I think, "he needs to be fucked really well."

I rewatched Rebels recently and decided since I write fanfic now--and spicy fanfic at that--I needed some spicy Rebels fanfic in my life.

~fic linked, or read it below~

Yavin IV was not a cold moon by any standards; certainly not by Zeb’s, whose mind strayed to Bahryn any moment someone--usually Ezra--complained about the jungle at night. Zeb welcomed that cool mist of the morning, the welcome reprieve to some of the strangling humidity. Occasionally before longer missions, Zeb would return to the Ghost just to reacclimate to its crisp, metallic air. Even though he spent more time in space than on the ground, Yavin had worked its way into his lungs.

Zeb thought of Kallus, of his smile every time the Ghost touched down on the landing pad, and rubbed his chest. Maybe it wasn’t Yavin after all.

Shaking himself, Zeb boarded the Ghost, dropped a small crate of provisions in the cargo bay, and made his way to his room. He hadn’t been on the Ghost in almost a week. Ezra, of course, had used that as an opportunity to take over their quarters almost entirely. New posters lined the walls, droid parts and trophies form Imperials littered the floor, and crumpled clothes covered Zeb’s bunk. Zeb just sighed and pushed everything into an unsightly pile in the corner for Ezra to deal with later.

He was admiring a new poster Sabine had completed for the Alliance when he heard his door open. His ears flicked toward the sound, but he didn’t turn around.

“I had a feeling I would find you here.”

Warmth flowed through Zeb, reaching even his fingertips. He stretched his hand and inhaled evenly before facing the entrance.

Kallus stood in the doorway, arms tucked behind the small of his back and blocking some of the light Zeb had been letting into the room. His shadow wavered when he leaned against the doorframe.

“How did you even get in here? There’s no way Hera gave you the access codes.” Zeb almost smacked himself in the forehead after speaking. Instead, he half-shrugged, looked down, and waved his hand through the air aimlessly, continuing, “Not that I’m not happy to--well, it’s fine that you’re here. Uh. Good to see you.”

Kallus ignored Zeb’s fumbling and answered, voice even, “You left the cargo bay open.”

Zeb wanted to argue he had been too distracted by Kallus’ smile to lock up properly, but then Kallus smiled in real time, and Zeb found himself at a loss for words. He eyes traced Kallus’ outline. His Alliance uniform was less imposing, less sharp than his Imperial clothes, but he still cut an impressive figure. Leaning the way he was in the door, someone could almost mistake Kallus for a civilian if they didn’t know him. But Zeb knew him--saw the straight line of his shoulders, the strong set of his jaw, the way he favored his left leg to avoid putting weight on his injured knee.

“I have something for you.” Whatever it was glowed a muted yellow between his hands.

Crossing the room to reach Kallus, Zeb tried to ignore the tightness in his chest as the object became clearer. The meteorite was no longer warm, but it cast a soft light still, enough to illuminate the space between Zeb and Kallus.

“You kept it.”

“Of course.” Kallus said it like it was the simplest thing in the galaxy.

Zeb scratched the back of his neck, looking down. “Heh. Right.” A moment passed before he realized he was clutching the meteorite to his chest. He wasn’t even sure when he’d taken it. He uncurled his fingers and chuckled nervously as he held it back out to Kallus.

Kallus shook his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “No, no.” He covered Zeb’s hand--surely just to push the rock back to him, Zeb thought. “I’m trusting you to bring it back in one piece.” With a smirk, he added, “If you can manage.”

Zeb clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you appreciate how hard it is to completely divert from every plan we’ve ever come up with each time we get a mission. Top military analysts can’t even predict our outcomes.” His shoulders bounced as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Kallus shook his head, mouth half-open, tongue sticking between his teeth. “Truly, I don’t know how you do it.”

Zeb felt Kallus’ breath on his neck. Even though he had actually held Kallus in his arms on Bahryn, Zeb felt this was the closest they had ever been.

“Kallus--”

Kallus made a noise in the back of his throat. “Alex, please, or--”

“Alexsandr. I know.” All at once Zeb felt a giddy lightness in his chest as well as a weight low in his stomach, a contradiction so absurd he wanted to laugh. Instead, he used his free hand to reach for Kallus--Alex’s--face. Zeb took Alex’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Are you going to kiss me, Garazeb Orrelios?” Alex’s lips were parted; he inhaled deeply through his mouth.

“I’m thinkin’ about it,” Zeb said quietly.

Alex rolled his eyes and started to reply, but he never got a chance; Zeb kissed him, gently, but without trepidation. The sound Alex made was soft, tucked somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of relief, and he turned his head to the side, kissing Zeb with equal confidence. It wasn’t a particularly long kiss, and when Zeb pulled away, he kept his eyes closed just to make the moment last longer. He dropped his hands to his side. Alex placed the meteorite gently on a shelf. He touched Zeb’s face.

Zeb opened his eyes as he turned his face into Alex’s palm. A jolt ricocheted through his chest as Alex’s gaze met, and held, his. Alex moved his thumb across Zeb’s lips. “I think,” he murmured, “if you had kissed me on Bahryn, that I would have gone on the Ghost with you.”

“And to think I spent all that time saving your life instead.”

“I seem to recall that I was the one who saved your life.”

“Shut up,” Zeb growled fondly before kissing Alex again. This time, he did his best to leave Alex breathless, wrapping him in a tight embrace and kissing him like he intended to consume him. He bit his lips and soothed the spots with his tongue, tasting salt and fresh Meiloorun.

Alex fumbled blindly for the door controls--almost destroying the locking mechanism as he punched it closed--before returning Zeb’s passion in kind, his leg slotting between Zeb’s thighs and his fingers scrabbling to undo the zipper on Zeb’s combat suit. His body thrummed with desire; Zeb could feel it, they were pressed so close. Ears pressed flat and brow furrowed, Zeb kissed Alex harder, tacitly asking for him to be even closer.

Zeb’s shoulders hit the side of the top bunk before he even realized they had moved. He grunted, and Alex pulled away.

Nervous energy burned in Zeb’s chest. In some ways he was still waiting for Alex to walk away, and to take with him a part of Zeb that Zeb never expected to recover.

“I’m not going anywhere, Zeb,” Alex said softly. “So stop looking at me like that.”

Zeb huffed a laugh. “How d’you want me to look at you, then?” He smoothed his hands over Alex’s chest and bit his lip.

“Like you want me.”

“That,” Zeb promised, eyes half-lidded and voice low while he trailed his fingers along Kallus’ stomach, “I can do.”

Zeb dragged Alex into his bed. Alex had unzipped Zeb’s suit, but hadn’t gotten much further with it--which Zeb accepted full responsibility for. Zeb snorted when they both went for the neck of the suit. With his back against the mattress and Alex straddling him, Zeb was more exposed than he had ever been. His hand covering Alex’s, Zeb pulled his suit down to his hips. He bared his neck to Alex. Alex kissed his throat gently, trailing his tongue along his pulsepoint before nipping at Zeb’s jaw. Zeb shivered.

Alex flattened his hands against Zeb’s shoulders and then drew them down his chest, pausing sometimes to trace scars or muscles that caught his attention. When his hands reached Zeb’s hips, he kept his exploration above the suit, and pressed down leisurely on Zeb’s erection. Zeb grunted.

Tucking his knees to his chest, Zeb took matters into his own hands and pushed the suit the rest of the way off, even kicking it into Alex’s face for good measure. Alex pursed his lips. Zeb shrugged. “You were taking too long.”

Zeb was getting harder with each passing second. And Alex was still fully clothed.

Zeb reached for Alex’s jacket, but Alex leaned back and took it off himself, slowly, grinding his hips down against Zeb while he did so. Zeb made a half-strangled noise as his cock rubbed against the material on the inside of Alex’s thigh. He hooked his fingers under Alex’s waistband. “If you don’t take those off soon, I’m going to rip them off of you.”

“Though I would not mind that,” Alex conceded, “I unfortunately need them intact.” He shoved Zeb’s hands deeper, until Zeb was palming his cock. Alex hummed appreciatively and leaned into the touch. Zeb inhaled sharply.

Alex used Zeb’s shoulders as an anchor as Zeb pulled the last layers separating them off of Alex’s body, taking his time to slide his hands along his waist, his hips, the curve of his ass. The sounds Alex made when Zeb touched him were mesmerizing, and left Zeb lightheaded as he considered ways to elicit more of them. Their cocks slid together between them, Zeb fully hard and Alex well on his way, and they rutted haphazardly against each other, desperate for the feeling, leaning into the mounting heat and pressure.

Zeb lifted himself onto his elbow so he could kiss Alex again. It was messy--spit-slick, teeth and tongues clashing, panted breaths passing between mouths--and matched their clumsy thrusting. The urgency with which they wanted one another was more intoxicating than spicebrew.

Abruptly, Zeb found himself pressed flat to the mattress again. Alex climbed further up his body; and, all at once, Zeb understood his intentions. His pulse jumped like a rapid-fire turret.

“I want--”

Zeb’s mouth went dry. “I know.”

Alex dug into his jacket pocket before finally throwing it fully off the bunk. Zeb couldn’t see what he was holding, but then something slick and warm was dripping over his cock, and Alex took him in hand, and Zeb wanted to fall into that heat and never reemerge. His toes curled as Alex’s hand sped; Zeb reached for Alex’s legs, pulling him into position and swallowing around a groan. His hands holding Alex’s straining thighs, Zeb gripped hard and spread Alex’s legs wide. He watched in awe, blood hot as the deserts of Tatooine, as his cock pressed into Alex. Alex hissed.

“Not all at once,” he breathed. He steadied himself with a hand on Zeb’s stomach, and Zeb kept his hands beneath Alex’s thighs, holding him in place.

“Can’t handle me, Captain?” Zeb purred, just to get a rise out of Alex. Alex scoffed, but the sound became a moan as Zeb rolled his hips, working Alex open some more.

When he could speak again, Alex groaned, “You are insufferable.” As payback for Zeb’s comment, Alex bore down on what length of Zeb’s cock he’d been able to take so far. Zeb inhaled like he’d been punched in the gut. He wasn’t even half in and was already overwhelmed. Alex was tight and knew how to move; Zeb was already ruined.

“I’m not in a hurry,” Zeb murmured, giving Alex’s thighs a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He blushed before continuing, “I just want to enjoy you.” Zeb felt like a fool as soon as he’d said it, and looked pointedly at the wall.

Alex tapped Zeb’s abdomen to bring his gaze back to him. “I have been… thinking of this for some time,” he confessed, causing Zeb’s eyebrows to raise in surprise. “And I certainly anticipated this being a… a notably large undertaking.” He emphasized his point by squeezing his thighs around Zeb, and Zeb would have laughed if he wasn’t so focused on not coming. As it was, he dug his fingernails into Alex’s skin, every muscle in his body alternating between tensing and shaking. “My point is --I would like to enjoy you, as well.”

Alex stretched and yielded noisily, offering steady noises of encouragement or warning. More than once, Zeb found himself biting back a whimper; the gradual shift of his cock into Alex’s tight, wet body had him edging dangerously close to climax. Both of them were breathing heavily by the time Zeb’s cock was entirely buried inside of Alex. Zeb had to cover his face in his hands, too overwhelmed to think of any other course of action, as Alex slowly began riding him, testing a pace, and finding a rhythm.

Zeb was almost immobile, content just watching the blush high on Alex’s cheeks, and the strands of hair falling into his face, and the sweat slicking his neck and chest.

“The goal is to move ,” Alex reminded Zeb--but the force of the comment was lost as Zeb growled, the sound emerging from low in his chest, and used both of his hands to grip Alex’s ass and hold him steady. Zeb raised himself to as much of a sitting position as the bunk allowed, pulling Alex with him.

Alex wrapped his arms around Zeb’s neck, and Zeb leaned in to bite at his ear and jaw. “Fuck me like you mean it,” he begged. Alex heaved a breathless sigh and reached for Zeb’s shoulders. Zeb thrust up into him fervidly, squeezing in time with each movement. Alex writhed on top of Zeb, jaw going slack. He let loose a litany of curses, some in languages Zeb couldn’t even identify, before releasing a shaky, “ Oh .”

Then, smiling wickedly, Alex tensed around Zeb, rolled his hips, and doubled his efforts, sliding nearly all the way off of Zeb before taking him completely back in. Zeb gripped the edge of the bunk above him and tried not to scream. But he let out a cry as he came, and grew only louder still as Alex continued to ride him through the orgasm.

Alex’s hands left Zeb’s shoulders to scratch at his back, digging in for purchase wherever he could. He pressed his temple to Zeb’s; gasping open-mouthed, Alex tried to kiss Zeb but could barely maintain it. When Alex began moaning quickly, repeatedly, in-between thrusts, Zeb knew he was nearing his end, too.

Zeb barely had to wrap his hand around Alex’s cock before Alex was coming, burying his head against Zeb’s chest as waves of pleasure enveloped him. Zeb felt each one in his own body.

“Come here,” Zeb urged. He turned them so he could press Alex into the mattress--pulling out of him as he did so--and kissed him hard. Alex returned it eagerly.

When they broke apart, Zeb chuckled.

“What?” Alex pushed Zeb’s shoulder good-naturedly.

"I was just thinking, if you had told me you could do that back on Bahryn, I would have joined the Empire on the spot."

Alex let out a quick bark of laughter that slowly became a fit, which Zeb swiftly joined. They continued laughing as they curled into one another, Alex's head tucked neatly against Zeb's chest and under his chin.

They stayed like that in silence for a while, simply breathing each other in. Eventually, Alex retrieved a towel for the both of them, and then a blanket.

Zeb opened his arms as Alex climbed back into the bunk. He closed them around Alex’s body and pressed his own chest to Alex’s back, humming contentedly. “You’ll stay?”

Alex snuggled closer to Zeb. “Of course. The whole night, if you’ll have me.”

“I think I just did.”

Alex snorted and pressed his lips together in a bemused smirk. “Be quiet, and let me sleep.”

Zeb conceded happily. His body ached pleasantly, heavy and loose and warm. Alex’s steady breathing was white noise to Zeb, drowning out the Ghost’s groaning and the Rebel ships docking and departing. One persistent beep, however, kept cutting through the peace, and Zeb’s ears flicked toward it even though his focus was elsewhere.

“You know, you do actually have to get some sleep, since you have a mission tomorrow.” Alex’s voice was muffled by Zeb’s fur.

“It’s just the ship.”

“Mm.” Alex turned in Zeb’s arms until his face was pressed against Zeb’s collar. Zeb grinned, almost giddy with delight to hold him so close.

The beep grew louder, more persistent. Zeb growled.

Alex yawned and pressed a single, soothing kiss to Zeb’s neck. “Just ignore it. It’s louder sleeping on base.”

“I’m trying, it’s just--well, it sounds an awful lot like--” Zeb scrambled out of his bunk so suddenly he nearly sent Alex crashing to the floor.

Alex recovered with all the dignity Zeb expected of him; sliding his shoulders up the side of the bunk, he crossed his arms, rolled his neck, and exhaled tiredly through his nose. His eyes were still closed as he scraped his hands down his face. “What. Could possibly --”

Zeb sent him a pointed glare. “It’s Chopper.”

Zeb’s clothes were much easier to gather than Alex’s, and he was dressed and jamming the door before Alex was even half-covered. It was a pity to lose that part of the view, though. Zeb was about to say as much when he heard from the hall, “--can’t really blame her, Chopp, since your diagnostics last time were--ow!”

“Oh, good, Ezra as well,” came Alex’s voice from behind Zeb.

Another voice, long-suffering but fond, sounded from outside Zeb’s dor. “Behave, you two!”

Zeb sighed. “And Hera.”

“ Karabast. ”

Eyes wide, Zeb turned, his stomach lurching. Alex was muttering to himself as he pulled his jacket on, completely oblivious to Zeb’s attention and, Zeb realized, what he had said. When he finished zipping up his jacket, Alex threw his hands in the air and looked around.

“What next?”

Chopper slammed into the door. He let out a series of frustrated beeps and whirrs when the door remained closed.

Ezra knocked impatiently. “Zeb? Are you in there? Open the door, sleemo; I need something for training.”

“I’m trying to sleep!”

“Why,” Ezra slammed the exterior control pad, “did you,” and again, “jam the door?”

“So little womprats like you would leave me alone!”

“Chopper’s going to open the door anyway so you might as well get up and help us.”

“Chopper, I will rip the dome off your rusty body and use it for target practice!”

Alex came to Zeb’s side. He slid his hand across Zeb’s shoulder, leaning into his space, and whispered, “They are your family, Zeb.”

“And?” Zeb puffed out his cheeks.

“ And .” Alex kissed the corner of Zeb’s mouth. “That means the less secrets, the better. If that is what you want."

Zeb threaded his fingers in Alex’s hair, marveling at the way the light danced in his eyes. Their mouths met in a lingering kiss, one Zeb felt even after it was over and he was opening the door to his quarters.

Zeb expected Ezra and Chopper at his door, Hera in the cockpit. But when he and Alex faced the hall, all three of them were there--along with Sabine and Kanan. If not for Alex’s hand on his back, Zeb would have turned right back around.

The silence stretched until Kanan requested someone tell him what was going on. Sabine smiled wryly as Hera explained, “Well, Zeb and Captain Kallus stopped dancing around each other.”

“Nobody was dancing.” Zeb sneered, all too aware of the blush high on his cheeks.

Kanan smiled. “Good news. Captain Kallus, expect everyone to give you some variation of a ‘don’t break his heart’ speech when we get back. Everyone, let’s just focus on getting the Ghost ready for now.”

“You would think for a crew so clearly prepared, less missions would go awry.” Alex crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’d think for a crew with regular habits, they wouldn’t break them the one time it’s inconvenient,” Zeb corrected.

Laughing, Hera pointed in the general direction of the cargo hold. “The plan changed. We were asked to offload these supplies tonight--another crew got back early. They’re taking them for us so we don’t have to make that extra stop on the way out. I thought that was the best thing to happen tonight, but I’m really, really living for the look on your face right now.”

Zeb frowned. “Thanks, Hera.” He looked at Alex, who was having an odd staring match with Ezra, and said, “We’ll be on our way.”

“You’re really going to get speeches, you know,” Zeb warned when they were out of earshot. Alex laughed brightly.

“I would not expect anything less.”

Zeb took the ladder down first and watched--stomach flipping pleasantly--as Alex descended. Their arms brushed as Zeb walked Alex back out to the base, Sabine and Ezra following with the cargo they were offloading. They stopped when they reached the edge of the ramp.

“Don’t,” Zeb grumbled, but Alex was already craning his neck to kiss Zeb’s cheek. Sabine wolf-whistled from the cargo access bay while Ezra feigned like he was vomiting.

“Hasn’t he smelled you?” Ezra called.

“Shut up!” Zeb glared.

“Among other things,” Alex added simultaneously, just for Zeb’s ears.

Not to be outdone, Zeb chuckled and added, “We’ll have to try some more of those things when I get back.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Despite Ezra’s loud and continuous complaints that he needed Zeb’s help with the cargo, Zeb watched Alex until he was inside the base. By then, Ezra had come to wait by his side.

“You seem happy.” It was a remark devoid of sarcasm or humor; it was simply a fact, one that Ezra wanted to make clear he understood.

Zeb unfolded his arms and looked down at Ezra.

“I am.”

#kalluzeb #star wars #rebels #my fic #text

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planetsam · 6 years ago

Note

if you're down for doing another wedding/marriage prompt, something in that au with michael finding out about alex's injury?

The main fic is here.

By the time they figure out who he is, Alex is back in the US.

The call comes, not surprisingly, while Michael is thinking about Alex. The copper ring is big, big enough to slide over the joints of his fingers even though it’s never truly comfortable. Spinning it is the most rehab he’s done on the injury. He’s in the airstream spinning the ring and thinking about the latest time Isobel told him that he was wasting his life and no-one was going to want to marry him and come home to his trailer. The irony was not lost on him. His phone rings and he barely says anything before the voice of a perky woman comes through.

“Captain Manes has just started his rehabilitation and he’s got a long road ahead of him—“

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, “who is this?”

“I’m with the VA,” she says, “I found your name in Captain Manes’ records, you’re an alternate medical proxy.”

Michael wonders how far down the list he is.

“Okay,” he says.

“Captain Manes is here and he’s just started rehab and I thought a visit might cheer him up.”

“I’m the last person Alex wants to see right now,” he says, “is his dad there?”

“No he left,” she says and he almost hears her hesitate, “he might not want to see you,” she says, “but I think he needs to.”

Michael does not have an answer for that. So he shows up. He’s led through a few hallways to a rehab room. There’s a lot of people doing exercises. They’re missing limbs or horribly burned—there’s no one here whose walking away unscathed. Michael looks around and keeps his face apathetic until he finds Alex. It takes him a moment to recognize him which says more about this than Michael wants it to. The first time he sees Alex in years is as he’s holding himself between two long bars taking hesitant steps.

Michael remembers Alex, whip thin and fast. He also had a brief brush with a well muscled Alex, just branded as a member of the US Armed forces. Neither of these is the Alex who has anger written on every line of his body. Whose grey T-shirt is soaked in sweat as he moves awkwardly down the pale wood bars. Every line of him screams pain and tension, not the wariness and defiance Michael is so used to seeing. Not even the defeat. It’s the harshness that catches him off guard. Like someone has erased the man he loves and carved him back with lines that gouge the paper. His arms give out and he goes down hard, even gripping the bars isn’t enough to stop him. Michael feels the impact down in his bones as Alex makes a sharp sound through his teeth. The entire place is full of men yelling through their teeth, shoving everything down and itching for more war.

Alex does not belong here.

Alex looks like them.

Alex rolls onto his back and claps his hand over his mouth. Shiri, the therapist, hangs back a respectful distance and something in Michael snaps. He’s moving before he can think of what he’s going to say when he gets there. It doesn’t matter because the only thing he can think is that he has to get there. Now. He gets there before Shiri does, crouching down. Alex’s eyes are closed but he stills and Michael knows he can sense him. Sure enough when he opens his eyes, they are already on Michael’s. Michael doesn’t know what he thinks as he looks at him and he realizes they probably have Alex on painkillers. When he blinks it takes a moment for him to focus again. He looks from Michael to Shiri and back to Michael. When he pushes himself up, Michael sees the happy surprise on Shiris face.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks and his voice is rough and hoarse.

“I’m your reward for doing so well,” Michael says.

“Bullshit,” Alex replies and for a moment he looks so disgruntled Michael’s heart soars.

“Attaboy,” Michael says and looks at her, “doc?”

“You called him?” Alex says.

“Yes,” she tells him, “you need support—“

“Not from him!” Alex argues, “where did you even find his name?”

“Your medical forms, there’s an amendment you added after signing.”

Alex went back and added him. It would be amazing if it wasn’t cut with the look of disgust and anger he’s giving him. The edge of that is taken off by the drugs. For a moment Michael thinks he can just call it. This was a mistake and Alex is furious to see him. End of story. Even Shiri seems to think this is a bad idea for how she’s looking at them. Great, Michael thinks he should go before he does the opposite and makes things worse. He looks at Shiri who shakes her head slightly, clearly telling him to just sit there.

“Alex,” she says, “why don’t you want him here?” Alex opens his mouth and shuts it, shaking his head. Michael feels his chest hurt at his reaction. “I can keep guessing,” she offers.

“I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” Alex says, refusing to look at him.

Now that is a surprise.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen anything close to pride on Alex’s face. Not since the hammer incident. And maybe once when they were officially married. But this is pride much closer to the kind that Jesse Manes has. That wounded kind. Alex has so much to be proud of. Way more than his father who, as far as Michael is concerned, has only accomplished creating Alex with his miserable life. Shiri is nothing but sympathetic. She has no idea how ridiculous the idea of Alex being ashamed of Michael seeing him is.

“I’ve had these jeans longer than I’ve known you,” he says, “I stole this from by brother-in-law which means my sister is dressing me. Come on, man, look at me. You look like you belong in the Avengers and I look like I escaped from an 80s cigarette add. I mean I’m not worthy to look at you but seriously, when have I ever been?”

Alex doesn’t relax but his eyes drag over to Michael who tries to grin at him. Alex’s features crumple but he doesn’t cry. He bites his lip and everyone’s eyes go to the place that Michael has been doing his best to avoid looking at. Alex’s leg is fitted into a sleeve that comes into a metal pole. He bends over the limb and Michael wants to demand to know what the hell’s going on. Shiri snaps from cheerleader to medical professional and kneels in front of Alex. She snaps on a pair of gloves and slides a hand under his thigh. Before he can remember why it’s a bad idea, Michael scoots closer and braces Alex against his side, reaching out and gripping his hand. He expects to be thrown off but Alex sags into him and grips his hand. Michael tears his eyes away from what’s going on to look down at Alex who is finally looking at him with something other than shame.

“Hey stranger,” Michael says, “rough day?”

“Y-you could say that—“ Alex cuts off with a sound and Michael is suddenly desperate not to look.

“Well the drive here was hell if you were wondering,” he says, desperate to keep Alex focused on him. He’s desperate for a lot of things, “apparently Noah wanted to wear this shirt and Isobel realized I took it. I don’t know what the difference is between this and the dozen other white shirts she’s bought him—“ Alex whimpers, “but apparently it’s crucial.”

“I can’t believe your sister’s still dressing you,” he says and breathes an unmistakable sigh of relief.

Michael’s going to be sick, is the only thing he can think. His hand looks like chopped meat but that’s nothing compared to what’s going on with Alex. His leg is gone below the knee and an angry red line traces the new edge of the limb. It’s swollen and puffy, there are sores that are leaking pus. It’s infected. Shiri presses her lips in a tight line and puts the gauze back. Michael can suddenly feel how hot Alex is. Alex isn’t just without a leg, Alex is sick. Sick and drugged. Michael has never associated hospitals with anything good but if Alex dies in one—

“Page the doctor,” she says and comes forward, “Alex I want you to follow my finger,” she says. He does it right because she moves on to taking his pulse as he leans more against Michael, “sit tight,” she says and moves back to the leg.

“It’s awful, I know,” Alex says quietly, voice still laced with pain.

“Why didn’t they call me?!” the words come out harder than he expected them to. But he doesn’t care. Alex looks up at him, “I thought they were going to call me if you—“ he thinks about Alex dying and his stomach rolls, “they were supposed to tell me.”

“Eventually,” Alex reminds him.

“I want to be notified sooner,” he says, looking at Alex, “I want to know if you’re injured or hurt or—“ he can’t say it, confronted with the reality of the situation, “God, Alex.”

“Captain Manes,” the doctor comes over, “I see we’re still pushing ourselves on the bars,” she scolds, looking at the limb, “let’s get you back to your room. Is this—“

“He’s family,” Alex says.

“Excellent, would you mind lending a hand?”

Alex looks unsure and though Michael still wants to throw up he nods and smiles weakly.

“Long as it’s just a hand,” he says.

The joke doesn’t land.

They get Alex back and someone hooks an IV to a port. The room is bare and devoid of anything. Alex’s autonomy is gone and Michael feels sick at the realization. The doctor leaves after another inspection and then they are alone. Alex sits up perfectly straight and looks anywhere but where Michael is and finally unable to take it, Michael moves from the chair to sit on the bed, making sure the their good thighs are touching. He grabs Alex’s hand and Alex finally takes a deep breath and looks at him.

“They shouldn’t have called you,” he says, “I’m alive. We did this so you would know if I was dead,” he continues, “and I’m not—“

“I can see that.”

“So there wasn’t any need. I think you should go,” he finishes. Michael stares at him. “I want you to go,” he says.

Michael searches for any sign that he doesn’t mean it but only sees resolve. Alex hates showing weakness or vulnerability or anything that can be used against him. Michael would tell him that he’s not going to listen but he can’t do it. If this is the last shred of autonomy Alex has, he can’t take that from him. Alex goes to pull his hand away but Michael grips it. If this is the last time he’s going to be able to see him for God knows how long, he’s going to savor every touch for as long as he can. He leans forward and Alex pushes back. It sends a bolt of white hot pain through Michael’s chest but he pushes it aside. He can give Alex this one thing.

“In sickness and in health,” he says. Alex’s eyes widen. Michael presses a kiss to the back of his knuckles, “come see me the next time you’re in Roswell,” he says.

He means to come back but Alex’s infection gets bad and they fly him out that night.

He comes back with even less of a leg.

Alex drops gratefully into the chair and Michael follows.

There is only so much dancing they can do, even at their wedding reception. And Michael doesn’t have any interest in dancing with someone else. It’s still unbelievable to him that Alex has no issue with putting his leg in his lap. But it sends a shiver of pleasure though him that he can be claimed in public like this. Alex turns and grins. Michael follows his eyes to a woman he vaguely recognizes. She comes over at Alex’s motioning.

“Shiri,” she says before he can stick his husband’s foot in his mouth, “I was—“

“Alex’s physical therapist,” he remembers. She beams, “good work,” he says, tapping Alex’s leg, “he dances great.”

“Well I figured he would,” she says. She looks at Alex who shrugs, “we tell people to focus on something they want to do and visualize it when they’re in rehab. Alex said it was going back to his unit and fighting when you came by,” she explains, “afterwards it changed though.”

“I said dancing with my husband.”

“And suddenly rehab went a lot smoother.”

Something warm blossoms in Michael’s chest. They have danced together. To something slow and sweet each doing their best to whisper things that would make the other laugh. Isobel had not been amused but Michael’s sure there’s no one in the world he’d rather have whispering dirty jokes in his ear. After Shiri goes, Michael still feels that happy warm feeling. But he’s not sure that’ll ever go away.

“I guess we’re gonna need a new goal,” Michael says, “for you to make your way towards.”

“What goal would that be?” Alex asks, scooting closer.

“How do you feel about running after kids?”

#michael guerin #alex manes #michael x alex #malex fanfic #malex #roswell nm fanfic #roswell new mexico #prompts #can we tell i love this verse?#malex fic

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mwolf0epsilon · 6 years ago

Note

i just fond your blog and saw you like DBH and G/T and ive been dying for a cute g/t fic! Could you please do one with Markus if thats ok???

I’m really sorry this took so long Anon! Here’s some giant Markus goodness for the G/T side of the fandom! Had to get a bit creative but hey, that’s why we have Mad Scientist Vibes Mcgree (Young Kamski)!

Enjoy!

—

When Carl had gotten into his accident, a lot of things in his life had forcibly changed.

He couldn’t walk anymore (which was the major factor for these changes), he needed to take medicine to stop the pain that the doctors said would never go away (but might lessen with time and physiotherapy), had to quit some of his favorite hobbies (He couldn’t go skiing, swimming or sky-diving anymore) and, on top of the physical limitations that he had to get used to, Carl had lost all motivation to do anything.

He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed most mornings, much less pick up a brush to take to a canvas.

His own home became a prison, the long curving stairwell a deathtrap for a handicapped man in a wheelchair. The members of the artistic community that he’d considered his peers had practically abandoned him and gone on to lick the boots of the next greatest deal, his relationships had shriveled away due to his terrible moods, and he’d lost himself to booze and cheap drug highs more times than he’d eaten in those first weeks of recovery and adjustment to his plight…

Carl was a mess, a depressed, bitter and angry unadjusted mess, and he practically exiled himself in his own home, resigned to wasting away alone and wallowing in his own misery.

It had felt like everything that made him who he was, had died with his ability to walk…

But of course, while the world was ready to give up on an a bitter old cripple, Elijah Kamski had believed Carl could get himself back together.

And, in believing so, he’d gone and done something truly insane to help push him towards the road of recovery.

Carl thought of Elijah as a very clever and ambitious young man. A crafty boy that was as cunning as they came, with a reputation for the dramatics that added a bit of flair to his eccentric personality.

Where others saw an excellent inventor with a few bizarre behaviours, Carl saw a well-meaning boy who went all out in his many personal plans and schemes. Someone who gave you half the puzzle so you could figure it out yourself, but who’d jump at the opportunity to give an answer to a friend if he trusted them enough. He was odd, a bit pretentious at times, but not as impossible to figure out as many people thought.

He’d left his own company around the same time of Carl’s accident, for various other reasons he assured, albeit also intending to take the time off to think on the incident itself and in what way he could help a dear friend in need.

The overall plan, however, was to isolate himself and think over a few things that had concerned him quite a bit over work ethic and corporational corruption.

Carl knew from a previous conversation that Elijah had taken with him the fruits of an ongoing and still fairly green project, intending to finish it himself rather than let the board of directors play around with such a delicate schematic.

He’d never asked Elijah what he’d do with it if he ever did finish it, but then again he should have expected the boy to reworked it into his grand scheme of “fixing his father-figure”.

Elijah was nowhere close to performing miracles yet, but Carl was sure he’d been trying fairly hard with something of the sort before settling in his final idea. Chloe had already come close enough to the boy playing god, and Carl was sure that, while the field of medicine could benefit from his younger friend’s work and ingenuity, he himself didn’t like the idea of having his legs chopped off and replaced with mechanical parts.

Prosthetics wouldn’t fix his ruined spine, wouldn’t make the pain and trauma go away, and he’d rather die than be a guinea pig to some scalpel-happy medical students.

Elijah knew this, so he did something else. Something bolder and very much batshit insane.

He was clever about it as well. He’d hid his real intentions behind simple visits, where he measured Carl’s chair multiple times, fixed issues he had with some of its mobility, installed railings and an assortment of contraptions to aid him around the house, and then finally brought him a robotic arm to serve as a moving platform to help with his larger paintings. All presents that Carl had frowned at and ignored besides the damn elevator and the wheelchair upgrade, since he needed those to get around the house.

And then, after several of these visits where he just observed and offered idle conversation, one day Elijah showed up with Chloe and his real present.

That was a day Carl would never forget…

Hard to, when a close friend of yours brought over a 50 foot tall android to serve as a household assistant.

It hadn’t been a particularly good day to begin with. His doctors had tried to send him another nurse who’d just gotten in the way.

She’d woken him up abruptly, insisted for him to eat despite him feeling nauseous from spending the night in a drunken stupor, hadn’t let him even watch the news in peace without blabbering on about how he’d organized his home or about his medication schedules.

And then of course, when she pointed out the taxidermied giraffe and commented on how “middle-ages” it was to have a dead animal decorating one’s house, he’d snapped.

The night before he’d had an argument over the phone with Adelaide, Leo’s mother.

They’d argued over him shutting them out after the accident, when he’d finally taken the steps to get to know his son.

Carl wasn’t proud of what he’d said, but he recalled laughing bitterly and saying an invalid man who can’t walk anymore, can’t really take any steps by himself.

She’d been furious at his self-deprecation. And then she’d exploded when he’d implied the situation was their fault to begin with.

Because, “had he not gone on the trip to begin with, he wouldn’t have ever gotten into the damn accident”.

Carl had been too drunk to think straight, spoke some things he really shouldn’t have, and in the end Adelaide had gotten fed up with him and hung up. He had a feeling she’d resent him for this major fuck up on his part.

The argument had left him in a sour mood, and the nurse criticizing his home and the things he’d been gifted with by friends?

It had struck a nerve and he’d become standoffish and defensive.

She’d stormed out after he’d told her off with some choice words, and then told her to tell his doctors to shove their stethoscopes so far up their own asses that they might actually hear their own stupidity.

It would have been funny really, if he hadn’t wanted a cup of tea afterwards to calm his fraying nerves.

That’s when Elijah decided to show up, in the middle of Carl cursing his stove for being too tall for him to properly use now that he couldn’t stand.

As upset as he was with his own handicap, Carl wasn’t one to give in very easily when he actually wanted something as mundane as a cup of hot tea. Earl grey, with a few almond cookies on the side to please his sweet tooth.

At the time, had he wanted to draw or paint or even play the piano as much as he’d wanted a hot beverage, he would have likely gotten it done much earlier without ever needing any help to begin with.

Considering the spell he’d put himself in however, how fervently he believed he was useless, Carl had made himself into exactly what he thought he was when it came to procuring inspiration, thus indulging in his interests was out of the picture for some time.

But that had all been forgotten while he tried to find a way around the stove’s height.

Kettle in one hand, his chin on the other, the artist considered his options.

And then the ground began to shake.

He didn’t notice at first, too engrossed with his dilemma, until the water in the kettle began to shift and slosh out onto the floor with a resounding splatter, and the wheels of his chair began to shudder against the breaks.

The shakes were rhythmic in nature, followed by thuds that were becoming as loud as thunder just as the intensity of the quaking began to make things rattle off the shelves.

Carl had gripped the chair’s armrests tightly as he looked around the kitchen, wincing as fine china slipped out of place and shattered on the floor. As the windows rattled violently against their frames, he wondered how any of this was possible, as never once had he suffered through an earthquake in this area of Michigan.

And then of course, the intense quakes came to a halt just as a deafening screech of metal met his ears.

The artist yelled in alarm as he peered out the window and saw something absolutely gargantuan crush the tall metal fencing in his yard. Had he just witnessed a goddamn meteor crash?!

Of course,being the overly-curious man that he was, Carl’s immediate reaction was not to call the authorities, but to leave the kitchen to investigate.

The old artist made his way outside by wheeling himself through the larger sliding-glass door, making use of the ramp that Elijah had helped set up in one of his many visits. He then carefully and clumsily maneuvered himself around the side of his home, trying to pick up speed while also trying not to knock himself out of balance in the process (he was still not very good at using it after all), and was quickly met by a dark shadow that was definitely not supposed to be there at noon. Whatever was currently in his property, was positively and tremendously big, enough so that it cast such an impressive shadow over the mansion.

What he wasn’t counting on seeing was that, what appeared to have obliterated his fence and part of his garden, was a pair of gigantic shoes…

Inside them, Carl assumed, were an equally gigantic pair of feet, connected to gigantic legs, that were connected to a gigantic torso, which itself had a pair of gigantic arms connected to them, as well as a gigantic head.

Did he mention how gigantic all of it was? Or how his body was instinctively trembling and screaming at him to seek shelter, as two large green eyes peered down at his own two widened blue eyes. He couldn’t quite discern any other facial features, as the rest were obscured by shade, but he could see a blazing yellow circle where he assumed the giant’s right temple might be.

There was a colossal android in his backyard. Carl was pretty sure this was a sign that he was probably going to die, until he heard two familiar voices up in the distance.

“Elijah…It appears the RK200 has effectively destroyed Mr. Manfred’s security system…” the soothing tone of the RT600, Elijah’s darling Chloe, stated calmly as she peered down from the shoulders of the giant she’d apparently hitched a ride on.

“I’m well aware Chloe.” Elijah Kamski, who stood on the other shoulder of the massive android, poked his head over to look down at the mess. “This wasn’t how I wanted to surprise Carl… My fault really, for letting our baby boy take his first steps out in the wild…”

“A flair for the dramatics may be your own undoing one day…” Chloe tutted disapprovingly before reaching up to the the giant, patting it under the chin. “Poor thing, this has been a positively mortifying experience for him…”

Carl stared up and up at the trio of “guests”, completely at a loss for words purely due to disbelief because, again, there was a GIANT android in his yard.

His fence had been obliterated, trampled by said android, and Elijah Kamski was behind it.

There was only one thing to do in such a situation.

“ELIJAH KAMSKI, YOU COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY THERE IS A BUILDING SIZED ANDROID RUINING MY BEGONIAS!”

“Busted…Fuck me, this has not gone according to plan” The inventor fumbled with his glasses and tried to hide under the collar of the colossus’s shirt to no avail. His fate as target for one of Carl’s lectures was set.

“I warned you he might have appreciated his gift coming in a box.” Chloe grinned at him, before waving in greeting at Carl. She didn’t seem too bothered with this outcome.

“You’re not helping Chloe…” the man sighed miserably as he stared down at the angry artist.

It ended with the colossal artificial being kneeling on the dirt (an action which made the ground shakes violently because of how huge it was) and then Chloe preparing tea for Carl and Elijah, which the two drank while conversing quietly. They occasionally peered upwards at Elijah’s newest creation.

With its face no longer obscured by the shadow it cast, Carl could finally see it’s features more clearly.

The android, despite it’s terrifying size, was not at all very imposing in appearance. If anything,it looked almost soft and approachable. Friendly even, if not for the limited amount of expressions on its face.

Tanned freckled skin, soft green eyes, hair shaved short, and a sort of inquisitive look to it’s posture which was apparently it’s most basic model of being. Curious about everything and their conversation.

The uniform was pristinely clean, although he noted the shoes had already acquired a layer of dirt and grime from it’s failed “field testing”.

It was sitting there (which of course destroyed another portion of Carl’s fence and garden considering how massive it’s proportions were, and how much it weighed), but otherwise did nothing else but look at them with those soft green eyes. Waiting for it’s orders. It was…Kind of endearing, if not for the fact it destroyed part of his property.

“Explain to me, why you felt the necessity to bring with you and Chloe such a…” he paused to stare at the android. It cocked it’s head to the side as it listened, blinking its two massive eyes as it focused on him. Each eyelash was probably the same length as Carl’s arms. “…Unique model, while visiting my decidedly not so Kaiju-friendly house…”

“The term you’re looking for is fun sized, and the RK200 is hardly a Kaiju. Jaeger would be a much more fitting term considering his nature and overall shape.” Elijah smiled as he took a sip of his tea. “And I thought it appropriate to let him test his legs before reaching his destined household. I didn’t account for how clumsy his baby steps would be, however…I should have expected he’d need time to calibrate his movements.”

“It’s a domestic android?” Carl raised an eyebrow and snorted at the thought “Boy, in what world does something that big fit inside someone’s house?”

“You’ll find I made the necessary changes to your house for him to fit nice and snug like a bug in a mug, as long as he sits still, which he’s a master at when he’s not bored.”

“You did what now…?”

“Of course a 50 foot android will get bored easily. The RK200 is very sophisticated and inquisitive.” The inventor carried on “He adapts as he learns, and as such I’d advise constant interaction with him to ensure the best results…”

“Elijah what did you do to my house?”

“That’s not to say he’s clueless of course! You’ll find the RK200 can maintain a perfectly good conversation although, due to his size, verbal communication is not advised, as previous testing noted that his vocal range has a proficiency for shattering glass and porcelain. You’ll have to learn ASL.”

“Elijah!”

“Carl it’s all fine. Here, see?” He turned to the gargantuan prototype overseeing them “RK200, initiate Home Program.”

The green eyed android blinked twice, LED momentarily shifting from blue to yellow as it processed the command, and then the side wall behind Carl opened up like a garage door. On closer inspection, it seemed the two floors shifted upwards as well, to accommodate for the android’s tremendous size.

Carl’s jaw dropped as he watched this happen, before he turned to look back at his friend in absolute disbelief.

“When did you get this done? Any of this?!”

“I could tell you, but it would warrant a restraining order.”

“Elijah I swear to God…”

“Carl please? He will take care of you, and god only knows you could use the company.” Elijah gave the empty tea cup to Chloe, who opted to silently watch the argument unfold while she idly stood besides the prototype “You’ve been living the hermit-chique life without the chique part. You look a mess 24/7, hardly talk to me unless I physically stand besides you, and your habits are not in the slightest healthy.”

“Since when have you become my mother? I’m an old man Elijah, not a child! I won’t live off someone else’s pity!” Carl snapped.

“If you’re not a child, stop acting like one!” Kamski yelled loudly, his patience running thin. “I’m worried! You’re my friend and you’ve gone through a traumatizing event! Not only that but you just became single again after seven years in a relationship and need stability and support! The RK200 will give you all of that, no questions asked!”

“How will it do anything at that size?!” Carl pointed at the android that towered over them eerily silent. It just watched, just as Chloe did, but it’s inquisitive expression had changed to a small frown, as if it were trying to understand a complicated problem.

“You think I wouldn’t find ways around the size of my creations? Carl, you know better than that.” The brunet shook his head, arms crossed and glasses perched on his nose.

“Yes, because “obviously” I can imagine those hands, which are as large as a fully grown man, grasping the fragile china that is currently shattered on the kitchen floor, without completely pulverizing it into fine dust…” Carl grimaced, glaring daggers at his friend before looking at the RK200. It was still frowning, but had directed it’s attention to its creator.

“I have everything sorted out Carl. What do you take me for?” Kamski looked up at the android and smiled “RK200, show Carl your household features.”

The Android in question gave a polite nod before looking at Carl and raising both hands so that they were held up with the palms facing the artist. Carl wondered what it would do, before his eyes widened as large as saucers as the skin of the arms deactivated, revealing intricate paneling and seams. These panels opened up, splitting the arms and hands into various parts, before several cables spilled out from within. The great majority of said cables was tipped with what appeared to be regular sized hands, while others were tipped by lenses.

There were hands and “eyes” inside its actual hands.

“….Elijah that is the freakiest most scariest thing I have ever seen in my entire life…”

“There’s more.”

“Oh god…”

The RK200 quietly closed up its arms after retracting the hidden limbs back inside of their proper compartments, and then pulled it’s uniform shirt up. The skin of the stomach area deactivated and then a massive storage unit popped open. From inside it, popped out two drones and a regular sized android of identical appearance to the RK200.

“The drones are for delivery and retrieval, the extra android is a remote controlled escort for you whenever you need fresh air. The three are completely linked to the RK200s mind, effectively they are him.” Elijah explained as one of the drones flew around the artist and inventor, while the remote controlled android bowed calmly. “He can actually speak through this body, so while I encourage you brush up on ASL, you can always keep a nice conversation with him out on a public stroll.”

“Elijah…Just how many concepts were you toying with before you decided to give me this…Mishmash of purposes?” Carl felt like he was in the twilight zone at this point. This was the most sci-fi-ish android he’d ever seen, and Cyberlife had chugged out a LOT of strange models.

“A few. The most impressive is his programming actually…The code is adaptive and changes depending on stimuli.” Elijah smiled as he watched the RK200 collect it’s extensions. “He’s a little like Chloe, but…But more. And I’ll admit, picking you is selfish, but you’re the one person I’d trust to teach our boy to be something more than just a collection of ideas.”

“You want a depressed man who hasn’t been out in weeks, to teach a giant android to be a good person?”

“Pretty much.”

“This could end badly, you know…” Carl looked once more to the Android, startling when he noticed it had laid down on its stomach and was now mere inches away from him, face practically right on top of Carl’s sitting body. It had an odd expression on its face, but it didn’t look inherently malicious so Carl quickly forced his pulse to calm.

“It won’t. You’re not gone Carl, as much as you’d like to be considering your state…You’re a clever man, with a lot to teach someone.” Elijah insisted. “You’ll make a fine young man out of our dear baby RK200.”

“I agree sir.” Chloe smiled as she approached, making sure to pat the colossus on the face in passing. “You’ve been nothing but kind to Elijah and myself. Your wisdom and kindness will be invaluable for RK200’s development. He will also benefit you, in being quite the delightful companion.”

“…Well…I guess I better look up ASL…”

“Is that a yes?” Elijah grinned triumphantly.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Excellent! I’ll give you the basic rundown here…Starting with supplies, no need to worry he doesn’t run entirely on thirium, that’d be incredibly difficult to sustain. Although I will send you shipments monthly since he does need it to self-heal. Which brings us to the next topic! Self-healing! If he gets badly roughed up somehow, just give him thirium and scrap metal! Biocomponents will do if you have them on hand. His body does the rest!” Elijah chittered excitedly while Carl went back to observing the android he’d been saddled with. It was still watching him, and only him, intently.

Most of Elijah’s technobabble went unheard as Carl watched the giant extend a finger in his direction, before carefully reaching out.

Said finger opened up, a few retractable limbs and cameras (again, creepy as fuck!) coming out and inspecting the wheelchair, before one hand tentatively offered for a handshake.

Carl took it and was surprised at how real the synthetic skin felt.

“Hello there…” Carl found himself smiling as the android shyly looked away for the briefest of seconds, like a young child meeting a family friend for the first time, before looking back at him and quirking the corners of its mouth upwards. It lifted it’s other hand up and greeted slowly with it’s fingers.

The gentleness of this gigantic being was sticking.

Carl decided in the end that this might not be too bad after all.

A few years later, in 2038, Carl found himself smiling as two familiar drones flew into his room and nestled themselves against his sides all the while purring that strange mechanical purr of theirs (which he’d long since associated with Markus’s good moods), while he watched a revolution unfold on the news.

His boy had come a long way since the first time he’d stepped foot in his property.

Despite his tremendous size and incomparable strength, Markus had not once taken a violent approach at any given chance.

His kind was met with anger and fear, yet the 50 foot android had done everything in his powers to be a benevolent and fair leader to both saptient species.

The remote body appeared for every public event, giving him no advantage over the situations, while his true body remained hidden away up until now…

He revealed himself out of necessity, the remote body destroyed during the attack on the barricade, with that horrid Perkins demanding his presence as soon as he realized Markus wasn’t dead.

And he’d complied to the wishes of a man who thought he’d been the cat that caught the canary. That grin fell off his face as soon as the 50 foot leader of the Android Revolution had squeezed through buildings, careful not to step on anything, avoiding the routes which had civilians and military alike to avoid casualties.

The world watched as a literal giant showed mercy and compassion, where humanity showed senseless cruelty, and Carl couldn’t be prouder.

He’d raised the boy well.

Elijah and Chloe had made the right choice in leaving him with Carl.

And the artist had to admit…For a 50 foot colossus, Markus was nothing if not a gentle caring young man, and he’d been entirely lucky to have him.

Bless Elijah Kamski’s eccentric ideas…But damn if the man still didn’t owe him a garden full of begonias.

#eps writes:#Fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh markus #carl manfred #elijah kamski #dbh chloe #g/t #giant/tiny #gt dbh

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hookaroo · 6 years ago

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Vocivore, Ltd. (15 of ?)

A OUAT WINTER WHUMP FIC

Also on FFN and AO3 (ack I need to update there!) (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @cocohook38, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY COCOHOOK38 HERE!!!!!******

****NEW!!!!!!!!!!!! Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!!!!!*************

Present (Wednesday, continued)…

Jones got as far as the medical unit hallway, Killian’s open door in sight, before hesitating. He wanted to help, he wanted updates on his friends… but maybe his presence would be more disruptive than it was worth. Would it be too stressful for Emma to have her husband’s doppelganger nearby while she tried to process his condition? Not to mention the worry over her father and the worse, ever-present terror of missing Hope… she wouldn’t want him there, surely. She would feel remorseful, being reminded of his injuries; he should just go, and wait to be contacted with news and requests for help.

His abrupt about-face set him squarely in the path of a grim-faced Whale. With a sheepish nod of apology, Jones stepped to the side, intending to let the physician pass. But instead, Whale stopped, looking him over with a critical eye.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“Er, well, I’m not actually… I’m… I’m not that Killian.” He waved in the direction of the deputy’s room and felt a vague sense of the knots holding his arm together, though the majority of the pain was still being kept in check by the nerve block.

“Obviously,” snarked Whale. “But you still look like you’re about to collapse on my linoleum. Why aren’t you down in the ED?”

“I was released,” Jones informed the self-important man. “All fixed up.”

Whale looked doubtful, but he came to the obvious conclusion regarding why the detective was here rather than on his way home. “You wanted to see Hook?”

Jones rolled his eyes and nodded. The physician pursed his lips in thought.

“I don’t know that you qualify as family, even though technically, I guess you share the same DNA…”

“I’m here more in an official capacity,” countered Jones, deciding to go in after all. He’d come this far; he wouldn’t be intimidated away by Dr. Whale.

With an annoyed shrug, the physician relented. “Whatever. Come on, then. If you do feel faint, try not to pass out near anything that might split your head open.” He pushed past and headed for Killian’s room. Jones followed cautiously.

Killian lay unconscious amidst a tangle of equipment, looking shockingly corpse-like. Blankets and bandages covered the worst of his injuries, and most of the grime had been removed, which only served to highlight the colorlessness of whatever skin remained free of cuts, abrasions, or bruising. The absence of the collar was a major improvement, but the dramatic wasting of his flesh gave the impression that he suffered a terminal illness. Technically, Jones mused, that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Emma sat beside the bed, sandwiching her husband’s skeletal hand between both of her own, simply watching the rise and fall of his chest. She tensed as the two men entered, looking immensely sad and weary. Her only acknowledgement of Jones was a brief glance in his direction, a quick sweep of her gaze assessing his well-being, and then she turned her attention back to Whale. The physician stopped at the foot of the bed while an awkward Jones hung back near the doorway.

��Still waiting for confirmation on the MRI,” Whale began without preamble. “But from my interpretation, I’d say he’s not as far gone as I had expected, given how long he’s been enslaved. Definitely some signs of deterioration, but with rest and support, he may recover on his own, or at least remain stable until we figure out an effective treatment.”

Emma looked as if she were about to say something, but Whale continued his spiel.

“As you might expect, his blood work is all over the place; lots of organs showing signs of stress. He’s anemic, which we’re obviously going to attribute to blood loss, so we’re working to correct that…”

Still feeling slightly uneasy about listening without an express invitation, Jones broke in,

“You could give him some of my blood, if that would help anything.”

He caught a small flash of gratitude from Emma before Whale fixed him with a derisive look.

“You’re not that far from needing a transfusion yourself.”

“Wake him up.”

The physician turned his startled gaze back on Emma. “What?”

“I want you to wake him up.”

Whale frowned. “That’s not a good idea. The victims that stayed sedated seemed to--”

“He might know something about Hope,” Emma stated flatly, emotions carefully under control. “Wake him up.”

Dr. Whale stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Be right back.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence in the physician's absence. Despite feeling like he might need to take a seat soon, the light-headed Jones remained where he was, watching Emma watch Killian. He drew a breath to speak, changed his mind, then changed it back.

“You okay?”

Emma nodded a lie, not looking at him. “You?”

“Fine.” He let his own falsehood stand for a beat, hesitated, then asked, “And… David? Have you heard…?”

“Looks like he’ll pull through.” Emma rubbed a hand down her face, adding, “The sword struck his shoulder blade, didn’t hit anything vital. His unconsciousness had more to do with a blow to the head.”

Jones couldn’t suppress a smile. “Lucky bastards, the both of us. I’m relieved to hear that, Emma.”

“Yeah.”

She appeared remarkably calm about everything, but Jones could make out well-hidden signs of tension and could certainly relate. He had never found it easy leaving Alice to go on supply runs, even knowing she was “safe” in her imprisoning tower. Later on, when the poison in his heart had prevented any contact, he was always worrying about her: whether she had enough to eat, whether she was sleeping all right. Whether she was truly safe from harm. Whether she’d been able to achieve some degree of happiness. But at least he’d known her whereabouts. Until she’d escaped the tower, anyway. Emma, though… to have no real clue where Hope was, how to go about getting her back, or whether she was even still alive… it had to be consuming her soul, the uncertainty. And Hope so young, as well. Not old enough to fend for herself in any way. The thought chilled him to the marrow.

Even worse was the possibility that Killian had been right, and that this nearly dead figure before them may have life-changing knowledge to impart. Jones shuddered, refusing to believe it.

“Look,” he began, “I know I’ve said this before, but… we’re going to get her back. I will do anything in my power to help. Anything.” He straightened, ignoring the sharp twinge from his damaged sternum, and went unsteadily to Emma’s side. “You’re not alone in this.”

Jones placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Emma looked up with watery eyes and nodded her thanks.

How many times had he heard similar words? How long before they had started to feel like empty platitudes; something that brought more comfort to the one offering than the recipient?

From this distance, Jones could see more detail in his other self’s condition, none of it encouraging. He noticed again the missing earring, a fact that had flashed into his awareness during their earlier encounter, but at that time could not have been less important. Now he saw the reason for its absence: a dark pink line extending from the now-healed-over pierced center of the lobe to its edge, signifying traumatic removal. Three similar scars adorned the rim in various places, with the intersecting white lines left by sutures. Ouch.

Drifting past visible marks elsewhere, some freshly dressed, Jones’ gaze inevitably settled on the obscene mutilation of Killian’s blunted wrist. The closest look he’d gotten before was its explosive introduction to his cheek, which stepped up its throbbing in reaction to the memory. The limb had been carefully bandaged with enough padding to ensure everyone’s safety, but the shape of the curved handle remained visible beneath the linens. Jones cringed and felt a very real pang in his own wrist when he pictured the brutality that must have taken place.

Emma likely wouldn’t want to think or talk about it… and yet, perhaps it was better than allowing constant speculation and gruesome imaginings about her missing toddler. Jones cleared his throat, stepping back a pace to set a more comfortable distance for conversation.

“Did they, erm, say anything about…” He trailed off and waved awkwardly toward Killian’s opposite side.

“The livestock nose ring, you mean?”

Jones nodded weakly, hastening to add,

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want; I only thought--”

“It’ll need surgery to remove,” was her blunt response, void of emotion. “There’s bone shards and things to deal with. But since it’s not really causing problems right now, it isn’t urgent, so they want to wait until he’s more stable.”

Jones nodded again. Thankfully saving him from more discomfort, a nurse came in, followed by Dr. Whale. After one final look at Emma to confirm her intentions, the physician gave approval for the nurse to administer the contents of a syringe into Killian’s IV port.

“It could take a couple of minutes, or not,” warned Whale. “Just try to go easy on him; give him a little bit of time to orient himself.”

Killian’s heartbeat and respiration were already beginning to speed up a bit. Jones slipped back further out of the way in case something unexpected required the medical personnel to have quick access to their patient.

The first sign of broadening awareness was the faintest of noises deep in Killian’s throat; a question or a quiet complaint, it was hard to tell. Jones saw Emma’s hands tighten around her husband’s as she watched his gaunt face.

“Killian?” she called softly. His only response was a slight twitch, barely distinguishable from the tremors being heightened by consciousness. She tried again. “Killian, it’s me. I’m here.” Dismayed to feel him flinch and try to pull away from her grasp, she said, “You’re safe; you’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

The raspy whine sounded again, fractionally louder this time and with a definite note of displeasure. Watching his vitals closely, Whale interjected,

“Can you hear us, Hook? Do you understand what Emma’s saying to you?”

It looked as if Killian were still trying to free his hand, a small scowl on his face, though his eyes stayed closed. Emma remained stalwart in her grip as she tried a different tack.

“I know you want to go back to sleep. But I need to talk to you first.” Her tone was gentle but solemn. “It’s important.”

Responding to an oddity on the heart monitor, Whale snaked his stethoscope beneath Killian’s gown to have a listen. Killian’s reaction was a feeble attempt to bat it away, but Emma still had a firm hold on his hand.

“Shhh, Killian, it’s okay,” she soothed. “It’s just your best friend Whale being his usual irritating self.”

If she were hoping to get a response from him--a smile, a groan, or protest--then she would have been disappointed. Killian stopped squirming and lay still. Jones began to wonder if he’d fallen back into unconsciousness. But then he spoke, his voice nothing more than a minute whisper.

“I must return.”

Emma froze, just for an instant, then schooled her features. “Screw that. You’re not going anywhere. Whale’s going to fix you up, and then--”

“My… Master…” Killian wheezed, a little bit louder this time. Squeezing his hand so hard that he winced, Emma hissed,

“Can kiss my ass. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, going there in the first place, but I’ll be damned if I let you crawl right back into that bastard’s clutches.”

Killian had dragged his eyes open during her tirade, and now lay squinting at her, pained by the lights. With no hint of shame, remorse, or even anger at her tone of voice, he repeated his statement.

“I must return to my Master.”

Emma swore quietly and ran a shaky hand down her face. “You wanted to forget her, didn’t you? You went in case he had her. But if he didn’t, then you knew he’d suck out your brains to stop it hurting. Your… your failure. Is that it?”

Stunned by the vitriol in her words, Jones felt as if he should step in, say something before irreparable damage was done. But before he could devise the right words, Emma spoke again.

“Does he have her, Killian? Can you tell us anything useful?”

Glancing painfully at each face in the room, expression devoid of emotion, Killian murmured,

“I… I can’t… I need…” He made as if to reach for his throat. Then he stopped, resting back on the pillow and closing his eyes in a wince. Emma growled, obviously exasperated and frantic for information about her daughter. Dr. Whale, who was making somber notations in Killian’s chart, pressed his lips together. Then he said,

“Maybe we should try again later. This is stressing him out; I don’t like it.”

“Just… give me a few minutes alone with him.”

There was nothing ominous in the statement, but it was obviously not a request. Whale scowled, displeased at being ordered around on his own turf.

“That’s extremely ill-advised, Sheriff; too much excitement could overload his system, causing seizures and who knows what else… he needs to rest if he’s going to have any chance at getting better…”

Emma’s glare wasn’t quite enough to convince the physician, but it did shut him up. Grimacing, Jones broke in with gentle counsel.

“I hate to say it, but perhaps we should listen to Dr. Whale. You know as well as I that extracting information sometimes requires patience, no matter how urgently it’s needed.”

She seemed determined to ignore all good advice, fixing each naysayer with a glower of irritation. Turning back to Whale, she said,

“15 minutes. I’ll press the button if he starts acting weird.”

“5,” he countered. “And we wait just outside the door.”

“Yeah, like you have so much time to spare.” She rolled her eyes. “10 minutes, Detective Jones acts as door guard. If I can’t get anything by then, you can put him back to sleep for as long as you want.”

“A lot can go wrong in 10 minutes,” grumbled Whale. He cast a grumpy eye on Jones, then back to Emma. “Him? How do you know he won’t faint the minute we leave him unsupervised?”

Jones was starting to see why Killian wasn’t particularly fond of the man. Emma didn’t say anything, only crossed her arms and waited. She must have let go of Killian’s hand at some point, and he was using the newfound freedom to rub wearily at the raw skin of his bare throat. Dr. Whale heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. But I have two witnesses that this is your decision. Any negative outcome rests squarely on your shoulders.”

“Done.”

Dr. Whale huffed and scrawled an emphatic note in the chart, then beckoned the nurse to follow him out the door. Jones turned to join them, but hesitated.

“Maybe he should be restrained in some way…?”

Emma looked askance at him. “Really? An armed law officer vs. a bedridden model for Mr. Zombie Universe?”

Jones remained uneasy but didn’t press the issue. “Call if you need anything.”

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #wish realm killian #victor whale #hospital #drugged #brainwashed #angst #serious illness #Vocivore ltd

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amoristt · 7 years ago

Text

Breathe | Peter x Reader

Anonymous asked: I read your Peter Parker fic and I liked it, can you write another? Maybe one where reader is taken and he rescues her?

yessss more peter <3 i just watched homecoming and ive been dying to write more of him! thanks so much for requesting and please enjoy!

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

You woke with a start, your head pounding so hard it almost felt as though it was reverberating through your every last nerve. It raced from your aching head to your toes, and it made you squeeze either side of your temples in hopes of appeasement the awful pulsing. This wasn’t like the migraines you got while doing homework, or the stress headaches that kept you up at night, no this pain in particular felt like something much more… Precise. Carefully your fingers slid their way through your hair, over the top of your skull then to the back of your head where your hair starts to feel sticky.

Half dazed already, you almost passed out when the palm of your hand met something horribly sensitive just below the base of your skull. You gasped in agony, leaned forward and ripping your hand away from the affected area, your stomach dropping when you felt your fingers were wet with something you couldn’t see in the dark. If your throat didn’t feel like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper you’d have cried at both the pain and the thought of knowing your head was damaged, but hardly any sound came out at all.

Without any idea where you were or what had happened you were left to try and ravage your brain for any competent memory that could aid in finding out why you were in this situation. The last thing you remember, even though it was a blurry one at that, was being in your living room. Something had… Startled you. You could recall jumping up from your couch, carefully treading into the bedroom where you’d heard a commotion. After that there was nothing.

You shifted in your spot, atop something hard as a rock, and began to try and feel your surroundings. It all felt the same. Hard, cold, uncomfortable. Afraid you’d discover something unruly you tentatively felt at every part of your body, starting from your feet, then your knees, waist, chest, and shoulders. Other than the screaming wound on your head there didn’t seem to be any more remarkable injuries. There was some obvious bruising however, and it was evident every time you tried to move anything other than your arms. Your ribs felt like they’d been crushed, your legs weighing one thousand pounds. It almost felt like you’d been hit by a truck, or possibly dropped off a cliff.

Gritted moans of pain occasionally sounded when you tried to move from your upright position, and you hissed when you leaned your head back just for a moment only to feel like surging sting of pain when the spot nudged against the wall behind you. Nothing was adding up in your head and you were all alone in the dark, in god knows where. It was likely no one knew where you were either.

Your mind raced with thoughts of Peter.

He was spider man, surely he know that you’d been taken, you were his girlfriend after all. He must keep some sort of tabs on you what with all the villains he faces.

Stomach churning, you almost threw up at the realization that this whole thing could be because of Peter. Not directly of course, he would never intentionally put you in harms way, but you’d heard his spiel nearly a hundred times. He had tried to leave you numerous times before because of the very fact that he was Spider-man. There would always be villains looking for ways to tear him down, and if they couldn’t do it directly, they’d go for the next best thing. You or his Aunt May.

Apparently they’d chosen you.

Every Time Peter caved into his fears, tried to do what’s best for you by taking his leave, you stopped him. You understood the dangers you could potentially face but ‘what if’s weren’t nearly enough to make you stop wanting to be with him. But it was easy to say things like that back then. You never truly thought you’d end up in a place like this, injured, all alone, isolated. You could be half across the entire country for all your knew. Maybe even on a different planet. Maybe even in a different realm entirely.

The thought of being light years away in the hands of some alien race was enough to finally draw tears to your eyes. You covered your mouth, leaning forward tensely as every bone in your body wailed in protest. In some ways you knew you were being over dramatic. The part of you that willed you to survive tried to soothe your nerves, told you that everything would be okay and if you weren’t rescued by Peter, you’d be rescued by someone else. However there also that one thought that drilled into every fiber of your being- the thought of being out of anyone's reach. Being somewhere else entirely away that no one would even know where to start searching for you.

Growing up with the rise of Heroes as well as villains you’d heard countless stories of survivors, people taken by evil. They were on the news and on articles all over, their faces next to hundreds of words that told of their courage and bravery even in the face of despair. When you were younger you wondered if someday you could be one of the people who would look evil in the eyes, unbreaking, unfaltering.

Yet here you were, and you were not brave. You were crying ugly and afraid, body trembling in both agony and dread. You were praying that someone would find you, take you away from wherever you were so you could go home. All those survivors all sounded the same, all saying that you truly find out who you are in times of great peril, and right now you were discovering the person that you were.

A coward.

There wasn’t a brave bone in your body.

Your thoughts were relentless against you, remembering every moment you’d spent making scenarios in your head about what you would do in a situation like this. In your head you were strong and durable. You were like Peter, with his lionheart and fearless gaze staring directly into the face of of danger, unafraid and ready for anything. All you wanted to do was sit and wait for something bigger than you both in spirit and in body to help you, to rescue you. You wanted Peter to rescue you, it was all you could think about.

Then you heard a soft ding, and something in your front pocket rumbled.

All at once your entire body surged with energy. You sat straight up, dug your fingers into your pocket, and you almost cried when you felt the hard edge of your phone. Pulling it out and clicking on the light you were temporarily blinded by the brightness of your screen, but when you managed to look past the saturation you actually sobbed out a relieved laugh at the texts bombarding your screen. Peter.

8:32 PM: where are you? you left the door unlocked :( you know how dangerous that is

8:36 PM: hellooooo

8:40 PM: ___ ??

8:45 PM: answer me

8:48 PM: please

8:51 PM: ___ this is serious i need to know that you’re okay

There was a gap, then the messages returned 40 minutes later.

9:37 PM: i wont let anything bad happen to you i promise im coming just stay right there dont go anywhere

9:45 PM: i cant get inside we cant get in unless you answer me

9:50 PM: please just tell me you’re okay in there please

Fingers shaking and head reeling, you typed so fast you could barely even make out what you were saying.

10:13 PM: petrr lwheer arw you

As soon as your message sent your phone started vibrating, your ringtone almost making you throw the item 10 feet away. It contrasted the empty silence so intensely. When you clicked answer and held it to your ear you once again almost cried in relief when his voice flooded the speaker.

“___! Oh my god I was so scared I- I thought you suffocated in there, I thought your phone was maybe broken or something I- Jesus ___ I’m so sorry-”

“Save the sorrys for later Parker, what’s her condition?” A voice cut him off in the background, and you recognized it. Tony, he was there too.

“Right, right- ___, can you hear me? Are you hurt? Can you breathe okay?”

The terror in his voice was evident, and even though he was afraid and you were in pain there was a great smile across your lips. If you were on the phone with him then you were still on Earth. You weren’t in the clutches of some alien race, you weren’t realms away from home, you weren’t planets and moons across the galaxy.

“Peter,” you wheezed, and the sheer breath of relief that left him made you shut your eyes in sollace. “I’m okay, I just-... Everything hurts but- I’m okay.”

He sniffled on the other end. “I thought you were dead, I- I’m sorry I didn’t come over earlier I had no idea-”

“It’s okay, wh-.. Where am I?” You tried your best not to cough into your words but it felt like every breath you were breathing in was made of dirt.

On the other end there was a commotion of voices, the sound of Peter in distress, when suddenly he sounded distant. Before you could ask what was going on Tony’s voice was on the other end.

“___? You there, kid?”

“I’m here.”

“Good, stay there. I need to know exactly where you are, can you see anything around you?”

You pulled the device from your ear and clicked speakerphone, turning the flashlight on and finally taking in your surroundings. It was exactly like you imagined it would be- grey, dull with rock walls and flooring. It almost resembled something cave-like.

“Am I in a cave?” Your voice wavered as you spoke.

There was a silence before Tony spoke up again. “Just a little one. It was a miner's cave back in ‘02. Listen kid, you can’t panic, got it? It’s all closed off which means air isn’t coming or going. I know this looks bad and scary but you gotta stay calm.”

It’s all closed off.

You felt a grave dread burrow its way into you.

Air isn’t coming or going.

It suddenly felt like your chest was constricting, your eyes widening at his words and the sight of your flashlight illuminating a pile of rubble in front of what you assumed to be the entrance. “Oh my god,” There wasn’t a shred of light peeking in through the stones and panic started rising in your throat. “Oh my god.”

“No, no, I said don’t panic!” Another commotion sounded and suddenly the phone was taken from him, Peter’s voice reaching you again.

“___ don’t freak out, we’re gonna’ get you out of there,” you couldn’t find it in yourself to reply, your breathing already harshening at the thought of being suffocated in some dank cave full of god knows what. “Listen to me! Breathe in, out, in, out, in, out.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your shaking and uneven breaths rising and falling along with his words. I can’t breathe, you thought in a mindless frenzy. I can’t breathe there isn’t enough air I’m suffocating-

“In, out, in, out,”

“In,” You wheezed, clutching your chest, sucking in a breath of air, “out.” you released it then did it again, and again, and again.

Eventually you found it was working, your lungs starting to allow you to breath in evenly rather than taking in sharp breaths that didn’t seem to feel like enough at all. Over the receiver he could hear the cooling of your anxiety, and he spoke again.

“Good, just relax a little bit. We’ll get you out, okay?” His voice softened towards the end, and if he was only speaking like this to keep you calm than it was definitely working. Your free hand came to rest on the ground in front of you, holding your body up, and when you didn’t answer he repeated himself. “We’re going to get you out, ___.”

“I trust you,” You finally managed, eyes shutting tightly in hopes of trying to block everything out. “What do I do?”

Peter spoke to someone nearby him, presumably Tony before returning back to you. “Alright, I need you to get as far away from the pile as you can. We’re gonna blast it open and get you out of there.”

You nodded as though he could see you and you scooted back against the wall as far as you could, shrugging your head down into your shoulders incase debris reached you on the other end of the cave. It was small in size and even just looking, feeling the walls against you, made your throat start to feel like it was closing up again. Tears pricked your eyes again and you shook your head at your current situation. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You should be at home watching a movie, or walking along Queens’ streets with Peter, or doing anything other than trying to keep from suffocating in a cave.

“Are you away from it?” He asked, and you hiccuped.

“Yes, I’m away from it.”

“Okay,” He pulled the phone away from him. “GO!”

The moment he spoke out there was a great explosion, and the walls around you rumbled with such a force that you almost let out a scream. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling, and they bounced along the ground and atop your shaking skin. Another burst shook the cave and even more pieces of the ceiling fell, a hunk of stone crashing only inches from your legs and breaking apart in a million pieces, and the sound of it did make you cry out. Immediately Peter was talking to you again.

“What happened?” He yelled frantically, and you croaked out a reply.

“The ceilings falling-”

“Did it hurt you?!” He shouted distantly again. “Wait, stop! Don’t set off another one!”

“It almost did- Oh god what if it caves in-”

“It won’t, we won’t let that happen, I promise.”

“Peter it’s a cave you can’t control it-”

“__! I’m not gonna let you die here, okay?”

You leaned your head back against the wall and this time the ripping pain barely registered with you. Head swimming, you tried to even your breaths again. Something was happening- you could feel it. All of you wanted to believe Peter’s words of comfort, but you were so scared, so afraid that this would be the end of you. There wasn’t enough words in the world to stop the absolute anguish eating away at you. But, an odd feeling starting taking over. It wasn’t frantic or desperate like you’d been moments ago. Despite the scenario, in knowing there was a grave chance you’d never see light again, you felt almost… Fatigued. Tired. It felt like there was a hole forming in your chest.

You realized with dread what that numbing feeling was. With your cries of fear, your panic attack rendering you momentarily unavailable, you’d used up so much oxygen. So much precious air. The thing that affected you the most, however, was the dawning realization that even with your predicament there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air to make you panic all over again like you should have. You should be freaking out, begging him to hurry up. Instead the fear rippled under your skin, made tears fall down your cheeks in a mellow show of apprehension. Too tired, you thought.

“Peter,” you spoke quietly into the phone. “Are you there?”

“Of course,” He answered equally softly, as though he knew your state. It wouldn’t be hard to guess, you supposed, given your worn out breaths.

“Peter, there isn’t enough air.”

You said it so easily, like it meant nothing. The anesthetic of thin air made you almost too exhausted to keep crying. It wasn’t like you wanted to die- you’d give anything to keep fighting, to be one of those people you used to read of, but you couldn’t feel it. Even speaking suddenly felt like a chore- and you wished you could have kicked your past self for using so much oxygen while freaking out over being out of Peter’s reach. He was only a wall away the whole time. You’d breathed it all in during your break down for nothing.

“We’re almost in, just…” Peter sounded helpless, and you knew the feeling. “Don’t give up on me. We’ll get in there, please, please don’t give up.”

“I’m not going to.” You spoke, and again, it was easy to say. You realized something drastic, however. You weren’t speaking to soothe yourself, but to soothe him instead. Everything in your head felt fuzzy and numb.

Another bomb set off outside the walls of the cave but you didn’t flinch this time, not even when another boulder of stone slammed directly next to your lap. Dust surrounded you, painting over your skin and clothes. It started to feel like you were holding your breath.

You mumbled into the phone, “I love you.”.

“Don’t,” He whispered, strained. “It’s almost open, don’t you dare,” He was frantic now, voice picking up. “___ I mean it, please, you can’t leave me.”

You could imagine him right now. Jaw tense, shoulders squared. He’d look as menacing as Peter Parker could. Tony would be watching him right now, wondering what to do. He’d never been good at support.

If you could cry, you would have. Instead your chest felt heavy, either with sorrow or lack of oxygen, you couldn’t tell. The surreal feeling of floating started to blanket you, and you could actually feel the carbon dioxide filling your lungs at every breath. You wanted to panic. You wanted to claw your way free, rip each bolder out of it’s place and dig yourself out, kiss Peter and tell him you’re safe, but you couldn’t. You were not strong enough.

The phone dropped from your hands and Peter still tried to talk to you over the speakerphone.

Everything around you vibrated again but you barely registered it, your eyes closing on their own accord. Through your numbness your chest started to hurt, your breaths coming more and more frequent. It felt like you were gasping, body desperate for something rich, but it never came, Something in the musty air changed and you felt like you were weightless. This was it.

You could see him.

Basked in white light, his form glowing almost angelically. He was so afraid, moving in slow motion like a dream. You couldn’t find it in yourself to reach out and touch him even after he came closer, dropped to his knees in front of you. Everything was underwater. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear him. All the muffled echoes barely reached you. His fingers pressed against your cheek, he made you look at up him.

You blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

And then you gasped, and every fiber of your being ripped from it’s dream and planted itself back into its place, back within the cave, back within the body of the person now shrouded in light and voices.

You couldn’t see anything anymore through the vibrant shine of white, but you could feel and you could breathe and it ached so badly but you sputtered through every breath and found yourself clinging hard to the figure in front of you. There were so many voices that your head was reeling all over again, confusion settling deep within your still foggy brain, but among them you picked out one in particular.

“I’ve got you,” it spoke, “You’re okay, I told you you’d be okay.”

Every part of you shook, clung onto it, breathed every last bit of air you could take in. Hands gripped at your arms and side and you didn’t fight, just let them hoist you up until you were tucked into someone's arms. You knew these arms.

Suddenly you were so cold, and the air changed so drastically that you coughed and wheezed with every single breath. It felt so fresh, and it was such a stark difference that it reached the very depths of your lungs. There was almost just so much of it- that rich, freezing yet precious air. Your head swam with consciousness, your body felt so heavy and grounded. Everything was happening so fast and there was so much of it but you managed to open your eyes just as you were set down on something much softer than the ground.

A bed, and above you, you could see stars. Thousands of them, twinkling and bright, and even though you felt like your entire body was broken they were soothing. Then you saw Peter. He was looking down at you with such a fearful expression, and he did not look brave. His lionheart had been gutted. His hands trembled when he touched at your cheek, his eyes glistening with tears when you blinked up at him.

“Whats going on?” You whispered.

He laughed. He faced down for a moment, shoulders shuddering, and when he looked back up at you there was everything in his eyes. It was the same expression he had when you told him you loved him for the first time, the same expression when you said you didn’t care what the future had in store for you so long as you and him were together. Grateful, adoring, but afraid. So afraid.

Even through your almost headless state you wondered what would happen after this. Surely he’d insist the danger was too much for you.

“You’re okay,” Peter breathed. “You’re out of there, we’re going to a hospital.”

“We?”

He nodded, wiped his eyes, and grinned. “Well, yeah, we. You were right, we- I’m not gonna’ leave you. I mean if you want to leave me I get it- I- understand- But-”

“Talk about it later,” Someone said, and this time you didn’t have it in you to determine who it was. Peter nodded, swallowed, and then you were moving. The bed you were laying on was hoisted up and put back down into what you recognized as an ambulance, and luckily Peter crawled in too.

You lifted a hand and he took it without hesitation, his calloused hands as soft as they’ve ever been against your skin. A breath of relief escaped you, a breath that you would never take for granted again.

“I love you.” He whispered.

Everything around you felt like it was going to concave. You were irrationally afraid the roof of the ambulance door was going to fall and crush you. Your lungs felt heavy and full at the same time. All the nerves in your body felt shot and burnt out, and the back of your head ached something awful, but none of it was enough to stop you from squeezing his hand and smiling.

Peter’s eyes were full of tears yet again. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped to look down before peering back up at you. He could be such a baby sometimes, you realized. He cried easily, but then again so did you. You were both as human as you could be.

You squeezed his hand again and imagined bad hospital food, get well cards, and Peter staying beyond visiting hours. Your heart longed for it all, the recovering process, the worry, the forgiveness, everything. Though it ached you tugged his hand to your lips, kissed at his shaking knuckles, and shut your eyes.

“I love you too.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman homecoming #marvel #spiderman x reader #imaginefictionals #scenario #fanfic #imagine #HYUUUU i loved this

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