#and my grandma she’s like waiting for new levels to drop i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t0wnspersonb · 4 years

Text

Hot Springs (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)

Word Count: 2,570

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: SMUT, bad language, public, my shit writing, Ushijima being a beautiful man

Summary: You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water.

~~~~

GUYS! I know it’s been a fucking minute😫 I’m still trying to get my shit together for school lmao. BUT I’ve been working on this fic for a while tbh, I was just never motivated to finish it until recently. I apologize in advance if it’s trash😂 BUT, I do have a couple of things to go over. First of all, thank you guys so much for being patient with me the past couple of weeks, I’ve definitely missed putting content out to you guys, I’ve just been super busy with life and school. Second of all, I know I have requests sitting in my inbox, I will do them. Eventually. The only reason why I’m even posting something new is because this story was already in the works, so since it’s done I decided to post it (it’s probably garbage idk lol). Third of all, I love you guys so much 😘😘😘😘 it’s been such a joy writing for you all, and I hope I continue to put out content you guys enjoy! As always, this story is dedicated to @sunshinewitchz because she’s the biggest Wakatoshi simp I know, and I love her so much and her endless support.

I hope you guys enjoy the story! Please let me know what you think of it😊😊

~~~~

“- Would you like to go?” Ushijima’s deep voice filtered through your ears; although you only heard the last part, you had no idea what he had said beforehand.

“Hmm?” you finally looked up at him, the paint brush in your hand stilled.

A soft frown coated his lips, sometimes you were far too engrossed in your art projects. Usually he didn’t mind, today was different though. It had been two weeks since the last time he had seen you, both of you far too busy to make time to spend together.

Of course, he would want your undivided attention, he missed you.

“I’m sorry Toshi, what were you saying?” you smiled sheepishly at him, carefully setting down the paintbrush, your eyes focused on him completely now.

“The hot springs. Do you want to go?” He asked again, his eyes flickering over your face.

Your lips pursed, your brain wracking through the dates to make sure you didn’t already have a prior commitment. “When?”

He let out another sigh, Ushijima loved you deeply, but when painting was involved… well, you were in a completely different world to the point that it was hard to hold a conversation with you.

But he also loved your passion for it, he loved how talented you were, how confident you were in your skills. It was proven time and time again whenever you produced your master pieces.

Although, all your artwork in his eyes were masterpieces.

You were the best masterpiece of all. Ushijima could stare at you for hours, he could watch you paint for hours, but right now, he wanted to be your sole focus.

“Do you want to go to the hot springs with me tomorrow?” he asked once more.

“Okay.” You smiled brightly at him, you didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, except to drop off a painting. Any chance you got to spend with Ushijima you would take.

“Okay.” he repeated, a soft smile coating his lips. “Finish up, we’ll go get food once you’re done.”

You definitely loved Ushijima.

***

“Ushijima-senpai! Y/n-senpai!” Goshiki exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here!?”

“Your grandma asked for a commission piece! I’m just dropping it off now.” You smiled widely. “I didn’t know you would be here today!”

“I-I’m just visiting.” he stuttered out, his eyes awkwardly flickering over to Ushijima who paid him no mind, his eyes scanning the outer exterior of the house.

“I need to collect the money; do you know where she is?” You asked sweetly.

“She’s out in the garden, please come in.” He said awkwardly, stepping aside.

“I won’t be long Toshi!” You said cheerfully, pardoning yourself before you entered the home, leaving Goshiki and Ushijima standing at the entrance.

“This is nice wood, is it oak?” Ushijima asked suddenly, his eyes tracing over the large door.

“I don’t know Senpai…”

Silence once again surrounded them, but like you had said, the exchange didn’t take too long as you came walking up to the volleyball players cheerfully.

“All set Toshi! Let’s head out yeah?” you smiled up at him.

He nodded before taking your hand into his and waving goodbye at the male.

“Bye Goshiki! See you around!” you called out behind your shoulder.

Sometimes it was a wonder how you and Ushijima ended up together. The concept of “opposites attract” seemed to be in play for this.

Your bright and bubbly personality contrasted greatly with his. Ushijima’s blunt and rough exterior was the complete opposite of your gentle and easygoing one.

However, you guys shared one trait, and that was the undeniable confidence you guys had in your skills. Ushijima with volleyball, and you with art.

But despite the contrasting personalities, your relationship worked, the love and respect you guys had for one another was always present.

“That was really nice of that lady to give us our own spring. I didn’t even know that a place like this could have private ones!” You said happily as you guys walked towards the changing rooms.

“Yeah.” Ushijima nodded briefly, “see you in a bit.”

You grinned at him widely before skipping off into your own changing room.

You bummed softly to yourself as you began undressing. The showers felt incredible against your skin and you couldn’t help but sigh in content, a trip to the hot springs was something that you definitely needed after working so hard on your commissions.

You carefully wrapped yourself in the towel and started heading towards the spring. The change in temperature caused a shiver to run through your body, shuddering gently as the steam curled around your damp shoulders. You breathed in the soft scent of earth, sighing softly as your body relaxed in the hot springs air.

Your eyes scanned over the area, before pausing on a figure that left your heart racing and your stomach flipping.

Ushijima paid no attention to his surroundings; his stare was focused on the scenery before him. But that gave you plenty of time to drink in the tall male before you.

He was truly the most beautiful person you’ve ever met before. His broad shoulders and rippling back muscles were completely exposed to your greedy eyes.

How you ended up with such a beautiful man was beyond your comprehension.

“What are you waiting for?” His deep voice filtered through the air, your gaze met his olive eyes and you felt your face flush immediately.

“Just appreciating the view.” You said cheekily before dropping your towel and settling yourself down into the water.

A long sigh escaped your lips as you submerged yourself completely. This was heaven; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been to the hot springs, and the fact that you got to spend it with the man you loved the most, it was definitely pure heaven.

“The scenery is very nice here.” he agreed, eyes scanning over the area once more.

You laughed softly at his statement, your hand gently pressing into the bulging muscle of his bicep. “I wasn’t talking about the scenery. I was talking about you Toshi.”

Ushijima felt his expression soften considerably as he looked down at you. You were resting your head against his arm, your eyes closed in absolute bliss.

This time Ushijima decided to scan over you, and fuck… you were the best thing he’s ever seen.

His eyes drank in every inch of your beautiful face, his gaze trailing over the strands of wet hair clinging to your face, wrapping around your collarbone and then your shoulders and…

Oh.

He shamelessly stared at your exposed breasts. He could feel his heart rate beginning to pick up as he started to register in his mind that you… no both of you were extremely bare to one another.

Ushijima couldn’t understand this sudden shyness that began to bubble up in his gut. He had seen you bare so many times before, he’s touched you so many times before, he’s had you in every way that he could think of; and yet… What was this sudden rush of arousal spiking through his blood right now?

Your eyes fluttered open and met intense olive colored ones staring right back. You felt your mouth go dry, your stomach twisting in a way that was all too familiar.

The only times Ushijima has ever looked at you like that was when…

“What is it, Wakatoshi?” You teased slightly, the flush in your face was something that you could blame on the hot water, not the fact that your hunk of a boyfriend was blatantly staring at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“You’re beautiful.” he said simply, reaching out to tug on a strand of your wet hair. His strong, thick fingers gently began trailing against the skin of your throat, skimming across your collarbone. Despite the hot water, you couldn’t help but shiver at his gentle touch.

“I meant… is there something that you want Wakatoshi?” You asked, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stared at him through your lashes.

“You. Always you.” he answered simply; his large hand curving gently around your jaw, cupping your face carefully.

Your stomach twisted pleasantly, an all too familiar burn bubbling deep within your gut, but also... your heart. Once again you were in awe of the man before you, the amount of love you held for him was far too much for your heart to contain, bubbling up and spilling over the longer you looked at him.

“You have me.” you said quietly, carefully pressing yourself closer to him, your hands rested gently against the bare skin of his chest, strong and oh so broad.

“Then kiss me.” he demanded, olive eyes burning into yours. Love and passion could clearly be seen in them.

So, you did. Your hands grabbing at his strong jaw, forcing him to stoop down to your level so you could properly kiss him.

Kissing Ushijima was possibly the best thing on the planet, his lips were full and strong as they moved against yours, unhurried, but incredibly needy and forceful.

His tongue licked against your mouth, hot and wet and deliciously perfect. You eagerly pressed yourself against his large body, melting against him completely. You were too hot, your body overheating immediately.

It was from the hot springs, right? Not from the hunk of a man that was currently grabbing at your bare waist and yanking you tighter against him, right?

Your head spun dizzily, pleasure rippling through your body, a soft whimper tearing through your throat as you felt his growing member press tight against your thigh.

Ushijima heard you, his grip on your body tightened slightly as he continued to devour your mouth. He began moving you, carefully backing you up further away from the deep end of the hot spring, and then your body was being lifted up until you were no longer in the hot water, rather, you were now sitting on the ledge of the hot springs.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your nipples hardening into pebbles under Ushijima’s watchful eyes.

From your perched position on the rocks you could easily kiss Ushijima and he could easily…

“W-What are you doing?” you whimpered out, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your heart was racing, faced flush, as you stared at the tall male.

His large hands were gripping your thighs, carefully moving them apart, his eyes gazing hungrily at your weeping cunt.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked slowly, and then he was stooping down until his face was between your legs… a hot, fat, tongue sliding up your slit.

You gasped loudly, eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned back on one of your elbows, your hand covering your mouth shot out and tangled into his damp hair.

Ushijima hummed slightly, tongue gently flickering against your throbbing clit.

He wanted to do this here? Now?

A thick finger slid easily into your wet entrance, causing your thighs to tremble at the sudden intrusion.

Apparently yes. Yes, he did.

When you finally opened up your eyes, the scene before you was absolutely sinful. Your swollen lips parted in awe as you made eye contact with Ushijima.

His pupils were dilated, the soft olive color completely gone. His wet hair clung to his face, you could see his tongue flickering in and out of his mouth as he continued to eat you out.

How was he so fucking perfect?

“Toshi… please.” you begged, pressure beginning to build up, you were so close, but you wanted him. You wanted his thick cock to stretch you out completely right now.

“Is there something you want?” he asked, voice deep and thick with arousal. His plush lips were wet, coated in your slick.

Oh fuck.

How did he look so fucking good between your legs?

“You. Please. No more foreplay, I want you inside me already, please.” you trembled, watching as he stood to full height.

Your eyes greedily ran down his naked body. He was just so… so fucking big, in so many ways.

The strong muscles of his arms, his chest, his stomach, stood proudly on display for you. But as your eyes traveled lower; you could almost drool over the sight of his erect cock, standing proud and ready to be engulfed in your tight heat.

His fist enclosed over his hard member, pumping up and down his shaft a couple of times before he finally stepped between your trembling legs. Carefully rubbing the head of his cock against your soaked folds, your eyes fluttered at the touch.

But then with a quick snap of his hips he entered you, bottoming out immediately.

His lips slammed down against yours, muffling the loud moan that was about to escape your lips.

Fuck, you were so full. No matter how many times Ushijima had you, you could never quite get used to his large size.

It was almost too much. But he knew that, which was why he waited for a moment, allowing you the time to get used to thick intrusion.

One of his large hands grabbed at your hip, the other was resting near your head against the ground.

After a few moments, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, a silent invitation that he could start moving.

Ushijima didn’t even hesitate, his hips snapping forward, his cock pressing into the deepest part of your tight heat.

The pace of his thrusts was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to fuck you, despite the fact that you guys were at a hot spring.

“Do you hear that?” he murmured; soft squelching could be heard from your lower region. You were absolutely soaked, drenching his thick cock as he slid in and out of you perfectly.

You gripped at his broad shoulders helplessly, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you trembled under his large body.

It was too much… the hot springs, his body, his kisses, the grunts that were coming from his lips, the fact that your boyfriend was fucking you in a public place…

“I’m close.” you squeaked out, nails digging into his skin. The familiar burn, the ache for release; was coming up quickly.

His deep thrusts began to speed up, his hips hammering into you.

“Then cum.” he demanded, his hand reaching down to rub harshly at your swollen clit.

So, you did, gushing around him easily, your slick coating his hard member. He grunted loudly, immediately pulling himself out of you, his fist once again enclosing around his member as he hurriedly pumped himself, searching for release.

Thick ropes of his warmth shot onto your lower belly, hot and heavy against your skin.

You watched tiredly as he brushed the wet hair away from his forehead, his eyes trailing over your bare body, a soft expression easily covering his face now. Carefully he pulled you back into the water, situating you on his lap easily as you rested your head against his strong chest.

You sighed in content as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you Wakatoshi.” you said quietly, you peered up at him, a sweet smile coating your lips.

“I love you too.” he said eyes flickering down at you, a small smile appearing on his face.

A trip to the hot springs was definitely a good idea.

#haikyuu!!#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima haikyuu #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima wakatoshi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima fluff #one shot #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu fanfics #ushijima fanfic #smut #fluff

2K notes · View notes

wa-royal-tea · 3 years

Photo

Previous | Beginning | Next

(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)

@thebrixtons @windenroyal

UBrite School of Fashion, Britechester (1:25pm)

Leon (text message): Hey, a new café just opened near the library.

Leon (text message): Wanna try it out?

Catalina (text message): Yeah, sure.

Catalina (text message): I’m done with my class now. Is it okay if I bring a friend?

Leon (text message): Sure :)

Catalina (text message): Great. I’ll see you there.

Catalina: Do you guys want to come with me to the new café? My friend invited me to have lunch with him there.

Marie: I’d love to, but I...I need to see Lucia.

Catalina: Oh no...is there something wrong?

Marie:...it’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.

Catalina: Marie...

Marie: I’m fine. Maybe you can go with Nora instead?

Nora: Yeah, I can go. But will you really be okay, Marie?

Marie: I'll be fine. I promise. Just have fun for me, alright?

Catalina:...alright. Say hi to Lucy for me.

Marie: I will.

Le Florian Café

Catalina: Hey Leon, did you wait long?

Leon: Nope. I just got here. This is...Nora, right?

Catalina: Yeah.

Leon: Cool. Have a seat.

Catalina: Have you seen the menu yet? Any recommendations?

Leon: Yeah. They said the cinnamon pancakes are quite tasty.

Catalina: Urgh, cinnamon?

Leon: Yeah. But I’m pretty sure they use cinnamon sugar instead of just cinnamon.

Catalina: Ew. Cinnamon tastes gross. How can you eat that?

Leon: No, it doesn’t. It tastes good.

Nora: I agree. The sugar helps make it taste better.

Catalina: You both are weirdos. But I respect your...taste.

*phone rings*

Catalina: Sorry, I need to take this.

Nora:...

Leon:...

Nora: So uh...

Leon: Hm?

Nora: I didn’t expect to see you here, your highness. I thought you’d attend St. George back home instead of abroad.

Leon: I did went to St. George. But I dropped out.

Nora: Really? Why’d you dropped out? Isn’t St. George a good school?

Leon: It is. But...I’d rather not talk about it.

Nora: Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to be nosy.

Leon: Yeah, it’s fine.

Nora:...how do you like this place so far? Have you toured around here yet?

Leon: Lina brought me to the food festival a few weeks ago. And we went to visit several places nearby the festival.

Nora: Oh my god! There was a festival?

Leon: Yeah, you didn’t know?

Nora: I think Lina told me about it before. I must’ve forgotten about it.

Leon: *chuckles* You’re the forgetful type, huh?

Nora: Yeah…I’m not proud of it. I forget stuff easily because of it. You know, I used to get in a lot of trouble back when I was in St. Elmir. My teachers said my forgetful level is the same as a grandma’s! Especially Mrs. Parker. She kept saying that I’m not going to get into any good school because I keep forgetting things.

Leon: Mrs. Parker?

Nora: Yeah. You know her?

Leon: *scoffs* Of course I do. I went to St. Elmir too. She said the same thing to me as well. I think she said that to all of her students. “You will never succeed if—“

Nora: “—you keep up with this behaviour”.

Leon: *laughs* Yes! And she always bring that stupid cane everywhere she goes.

Nora: I know! Has she ever smacked you with that thing before?

Leon: Hah! All the time! I was quite a troublemaker back then.

Nora: *laughs* Who would’ve thought Astor’s future King was a troublemaker at school?

Leon: *chuckles* You’d be surprised.

Catalina: You guys seemed to get along well. What were you guys laughing about?

Leon: Nothing much. We were just laughing about this one teacher at our school.

Catalina: Oh? You both went to the same school?

Leon: Yeah. I’ve never seen her though.

Nora: Maybe because you’re already gone by the time I got in.

Leon: Oh, yeah. I moved to Ludgrove for my senior year.

Nora: I see...

Catalina: Come on, Nora. We haven’t ordered lunch yet. Can you give us a sec, Leon?

Leon: Yeah, sure. Go ahead.

Nora: Seriously Lina, you have to give the cinnamon pancakes a try.

Catalina: Nora...

66 notes · View notes

skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

A Good Man

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Seungmin loves you so much so that he wished he was the one left behind in the plane crash, not your late husband.

Warning: guilt, plane crash, death

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungmin

Chan was a good man— loyal, loving, reliable. Seungmin is a good man too, but Seungmin is not Chan, and he knows it. He knows it well.

He approaches you, bouquet in hand. You turn and smile when you hear him.

“Hi, Seungmin.”

“Hello, Y/N. Where’s Miyeon?”

“I left her with her grandma. She isn’t quite old enough to sit still for stuff like this yet.”

“I see.” He set the flowers by the picture of his late leader. “I should leave the two of you alone then.”

“No, wait, Seungmin,” you stop him. “Would you like to have dinner with us this evening?”

You’re inviting him to dinner? His eyes slide to Chan’s framed smiling face. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There probably isn’t something more to this invitation. You probably just don’t want to be alone on your late husband’s fifth death anniversary. “Sure. Where? I’ll see if any of the boys are free too.”

“No, I meant just the three of us at my place,” you clarify. “I… I have something to say.”

Seungmin can’t stop his heart from accelerating even though he knows it’ll hurt more later. “O-okay.”

You nod and turn back to the memorial. Seungmin watches as you whisper something into the single white carnation in your hand and set it on the altar before he himself turns to give you room.

He finds it ironic that he was actually the reason why you and Chan were together. You were his classmate whom he reunited with when Stray Kids did a reality show at a site you worked. He was even the best man at your wedding. He remembers that day clearly— that day when he saw you walking down the aisle dressed in white. He’d never felt so sick as he did then when realization and regret hit him all at once. He loves you. Since when, and for how long, he didn’t and doesn’t know, but it was and is too late.

He finds it even more ironic, however, that he is the reason you two are now torn apart.

He raises his finger and presses the bell. Within seconds, the door is thrown open wide and a bubbly five year old greets him. “Hello, Uncle Seungmin!”

He automatically bends down and scoops the child up. “Hi there, Miyeon. Have you been a good girl today?”

“Uh-huh! You can ask Mommy!”

As if on cue, you pop out from the kitchen. “Yes, she’s been a well-behaved angel. Welcome in, Seungmin.”

You take the melon he’d brought while he takes off his shoes. Seungmin’s a bit surprised to see three lit candles on the dining table when he walks in, but says nothing of it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when you off-handedly mention you baked his favourite chocolate cake. He knows the recipe calls for red wine, and for a single mother such as you, anything that does not involve your child usually does not fit into your schedule, let alone cross your mind.

After dinner, you take your daughter to her playroom upstairs with a large plate of cookies that are obviously meant to keep her distracted for a while.

Seungmin watches as you scurry back downstairs afterwards. You’re wearing a skirt. He doesn’t remember you wearing a skirt since you gave birth. He thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, but the effort you put into looking nice makes him blush a shade darker.

“Shall we?” you dramatize, pulling out the dessert.

Seungmin helps lay out two plates while you serve a slice onto each.

“You mentioned you have something to say?” he asks as you both tuck your chairs in.

Are you blushing, or is it just the heat from these candles?

“I, uh… Let’s eat first.” You smile sheepishly. “I haven’t had this in so long.”

Despite having his favourite dessert, Seungmin cannot concentrate on its taste at all. He watches as you cut through the moist cake with your fork. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your joints are turning white by your grip on the utensil. He’s used to being the anxious one, so this is new. What could have gotten you so on edge?

At last, you’ve scraped every last drop of cream you can procrastinate with into your mouth. Seungmin takes the plates and sets them into the sink before sitting back down in front of you, waiting patiently.

“What I want to say is,” you begin carefully.

He nods once and leans forward, letting you know you have his attention.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, why?” Goodness, this sounds like a line from every other friends-to-lover romcom skit. Not that he would mind. As long as you tell him you feel the same way he does, he wouldn’t care if you quoted “Twilight” verbatim. Oh, to be in a lighthearted romcom with you, Seungmin dreams of nothing more. Then again, he reminds himself, these are just dreams.

“Ever since… ever since Chan passed, we grew closer, and I depended on you a lot. You’ve been my cornerstone, and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’”

He nods again, but doesn’t say anything. He knows you enough by now to recognize you have more on your mind.

Indeed, you continue. “And over these past five years, my heart has—”

“Mommy!” A sudden cry sends you both to your feet.

“I’ll tell you later,” you toss over your shoulder to Seungmin who’s running right on your heels towards the cry.

“Miyeon!” you gasp, seeing the state of your daughter. Somehow, she has managed to squeeze through the gaps between the railing of the stairs and is hanging from the second floor. Below her, her stuffed monkey lays sprawled out on ground level.

“I’ll pull her up,” you decide, but Seungmin stops you.

“It’ll be hard to fit her back through those rails, and she’s crying too much to cooperate.” He stands under your daughter and extends his arms upwards. “Miyeon? Miyeon, let go. Uncle Seungmin will catch you. You’re going to be alright.”

The little girl stops wailing for a moment and looks down only to cry again from the intimidating height.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You can do it. We won’t let you fall,” you add in. “You trust us, don’t you? You trust Mommy and Uncle Seungmin?”

She quiets down again and sniffles as she looks at you and Seungmin now instead of the floor. Her tiny arms are shaking, and you brace yourself, knowing she’s going to fall soon whether she wants to or not.

Miyeon whimpers once more and closes her eyes. She then finally releases her grip and lands squarely into Seungmin’s awaiting arms.

“Oof. There we go. Safe and sound,” he assures her.

Once she’s set on the floor, Miyeon again begins to bawl from shock. “Mr— Mr. Bananas wanted to climb. Mr. Bananas wanted to climb!” she sobs, gripping the stuffed animal you’ve returned back to her arms.

“Okay, okay, we understand. Still, no more climbing for you or Mr. Bananas, alright?” hushes Seungmin.

You pick up your daughter and bounce her on your shoulder. “I think she’s learned her lesson. I didn’t think we still needed baby rails, but I guess you can never be safe enough.”

Seungmin reaches for Miyeon. “Let’s put her to bed. She must be exhausted after all that.”

You nod and let him carry the five year old up the stairs once more. You have him wait downstairs though as you change the child, so he heads back down and makes himself comfortable on the couch. On the lamp table beside him, there’s a photo of you and Chan excitedly holding up an ultrasound. It is the only picture of the three of you together.

He runs this thumb over the other man’s face, wiping it free of any dust. “I’m sorry…” he whispers. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’ll keep Y/N and Miyeon safe and happy. I promise.”

He quickly sets down the picture and stands when he hears you closing the bedroom door.

“Is she alright?” Seungmin asks when he sees your head appear from around the corner.

You nod, descending the steps quietly. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could say the same when I get hurt. I can’t even sit in certain positions anymore,” he jokes.

You laugh lightly. “I’m glad you were here, Seungmin. Things could have been a lot different if it were just me.”

“I’m always happy to help. I should get going now though. You must be tired too.”

“Wait.” Your voice stops him at the front door. “The accident… I’m thankful you were here, and I realized it had to be you. You had to be the one to do it.”

His stupid hope is rising again. He can feel it in his chest. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“Miyeon, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone except you. She needs you, and I… I need you too.”

Is he hearing incorrectly? His silence and bewilderment prompts you to explain. “The thing is, ever since Chan passed five years ago, you were the only one who’s been by my side, supporting and caring for me, and slowly, I’ve fallen for that. Seungmin, I know I come with a lot of baggage, but would you be willing to give us a try?”

He wants to jump, he wants to cheer, he wants to accept your confession, but none of this makes sense to logical Seungmin, so he restrains himself.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’re saying?”

You nod. “I-I know it’s sudden, but I like you, Kim Seungmin.”

“But you love Chan.”

You hesitate but nod in agreement anyway. “I’m not going to put you second. I—”

“Y/N, I killed Chan. Don’t you see? You should hate me instead. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your husband, and Miyeon would still have a dad. If I hadn’t stood under that propeller after the plane crash, Chan wouldn’t have had to push me and get crushed in the head. I killed Chan, and no matter what I do— no matter how much I love you too— I can never stand in his place.”

You take a moment to stare at him, trying to read his body language after that confession of insecurity. After a while, you straighten your back and look him right in the eyes.

“You’re right.” He’s startled by your sudden firm tone. “You can never be Chan. You’re not a music-producing insomniac. You’re not Australian. You’re not born with curly hair.��

He swallows and hangs his head.

“But,” you continue. “I’m not looking for another Chan. I’m not looking to replace him; I’m looking for you.”

“Y/N…”

You soften your voice. “When I found out how he passed saving you, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew Chan wouldn’t leave me and his unborn child to fend for ourselves. He saved you because he knew he could count on you, and it’s why I trusted you from the beginning and why I let myself fall in love again.”

You walk up to him and take his hands. “Let me ask this again. Will you, Kim Seungmin, stand by my side, not as Chan, but as someone who loves and is loved?”

His heart pounds in his head, yet he cannot take his eyes off of yours. His throat is tied into knots, yet he cannot stop the words from tumbling out.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he breathes.

You smile and wrap him in a hug, which he finally returns. Just then, footsteps thump down the stairs and a five year old child waddles into view.

“Mommy?” she calls. She then takes a moment to look around before her eyes land on Seungmin. “Daddy?”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids #seungmin fic #seungmin imagine #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #fem reader #anniversary special #20210820

97 notes · View notes

13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Note

Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?

MOVING FORWARD?

A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. I’m sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. You’ll want tissues and maybe a snack. It’s a long one.

SEPTEMBER

“Babe, you don’t have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.” I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessica’s party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most people’s surprise.

“(Y/N), I’m good. I’ve been drinking Coke all night. I’ll see you in a few. I love you.”

I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, “okay, fine. I’ll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.” I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.

“Ah, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?” Scott asked me.

“Easy. Me.” I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.

“But- you… you don’t even like beer.” Layla stuttered.

“I know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. I’m sure you can last,” I checked my watch, “fourteen minutes without a beer.” The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.

I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. “hello?” I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.”

“Who is this?”

“I-it’s Clay. (Y/N) you… oh god. I called 911 already. There’s been an accident.” No. No no no. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. “J-Jeff.” His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. “Th-the police are here; they want to talk to me. They’re calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.”

“Clay. Clay wait. What happe-.” I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldn’t see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff… he can’t… no.

I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldn’t think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Monty’s plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. “Monty.” I said quietly as I approached him. He didn’t hear me. “Monty.” I tried again, a little louder. He still didn’t hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. “Montgomery.” I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.

“One second.” He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldn’t get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. “(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?”

I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. “J-Jeff….” Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. “He… there was an accident.” Monty’s entire face dropped.

“What kind of accident?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s good Monty. We have to… I have to….” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.

“(Y/N) you need to breathe. Let’s go find the guys. Come on.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.

“Scott. Where’s Bryce?” Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.

“I don’t know, I think he went upstairs. Why?”

“We need to go.”

Scott looked between Monty and I. “Uh… do you need permission to leave now or something?”

“No Scott. We need to go.” Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay. Uh… I’m good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. I’ll take (Y/N) to the car.” I clutched Monty’s shirt tighter.

“(Y/N), you need to let go. I’ll be right back. Go with Scott.” He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.

He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. “Do you want some water?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driver’s side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeff’s mom was calling. “Hello?” I asked, timidly.

“(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.” She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.

“I know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.” I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. “Okay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.”

I nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see me. “Mhmm. I will.” I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. “They’re going to the regional hospital.” Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.

Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. “You need to pull over.” I told Scott stiffly.

“You okay (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.

“Pull over now.” I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.

“Okay, just a second.” He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.

“Is she okay? Or like… she’s okay?”

I groaned. “I’ve got her, you guys go on ahead.” Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.

“We can go.” I said and it was quiet again.

Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeff’s mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.” I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. “(Y/N), wait.” I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.

“(Y/N)?” a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Come here.” Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldn’t say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldn’t stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.

“He’s gone.” I whispered quietly into the blond’s shoulder.

“I know. Let’s go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?” I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.

The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeff’s parents. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.

“I’ll take her home.”

“Stay with her.” Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.

I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there weren’t many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeff’s baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. “Are you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?” Monty asked from behind me.

I jumped slightly. “I’ll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.”

“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.

“(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.” The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.

“Thank you.” I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Let’s not appear to care too much.

“(Y/N), you don’t need to be here today. You’ve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you weren’t here.” Mr. Porter offered.

I stared at him. Is he serious? “I know you’re trying to help and that’s great. But I do need to be here today.” I explained.

“Why?”

“I heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.” A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.

“That is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,” I caught myself, “was a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school don’t care about that. If I wasn’t here, the rumors would be even worse.”

Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. “Alright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.” I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.

“Did he really say, ‘you don’t need to be here today’? Like he actually fucking said that?” I asked.

“Yup. I heard it too.” Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.

“Hey Clay. How’re you doing?”

“I don’t know. How are you doing?”

“I changed my shirt this morning. So that’s something I guess.” I shrugged.

“I’m really sorry (Y/N).”

“I know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Neither of us knew what else to say. “I uh… I’ll see you around?”

“You will. Let me know if,” I paused, “if you want to talk sometime.”

“Okay.” He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.

“This day isn’t going to get any easier.” I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.

“She isn’t left alone today, okay?” I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that I’m not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“Hey Bryce. Guys.” I greeted somberly.

“Hey (Y/N).” Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they aren’t in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions I’ve had with Bryce Walker since… ever. I wasn’t sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.

“You can all stop staring at me any time. It’s kind of creepy.” I said as I gathered my things. “I know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesn’t mean you need to stare like everyone else.” When I turned back, they were still looking at me. “Seriously, stop. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.” I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didn’t hear any of them following, I turned around. “You coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.”

“I guess so, yeah.” He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.

Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.

“She really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.”

“Lizzie, it’s been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.” I had finally had enough.

“What what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.” I paused and looked at their expressions. “No. No you don’t want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I haven’t eaten in three days because I’ve been crying so much I can’t keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkins’ death is inconvenient for them.” Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.

“Easy there Ticat.” Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.

“She lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.” He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. “Call Monty.” I did as he said and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” Monty answered.

“Hey. I’m taking (Y/N) home.”

“Why? Is she okay?” He asked.

“She is. At least as okay as we can expect. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” He grumbled.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?”

“I will. Keep me posted?”

“Will do. Bye.” He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “So, home?” I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. “Where do you live?” He clarified, slowly.

“Oh uh… just off Lincoln and sixth.” I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. “That was… something.”

“Yeah well it’s been a long day.”

“I think they’ll be long for a while.”

“Me too.” He replied, sadly. “You don’t want to go home do you?” he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.

“Not really no. My parents are at work and they’ve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But it’s so quiet.”

“I can stay if you want. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“No. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but he’s right. You shouldn’t be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We don’t have to talk or anything. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh… friends?”

“You mean Layla and Katie? They aren’t really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I haven’t.”

“I haven’t. Why do you hang out with them then?”

“Why do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?”

“Fair point.” He replied, dropping the subject.

We got closer to my house and I spoke again. “It’s the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.”

“As opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?” Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.

“Well, yeah.” I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.

“Heard that one before?”

“Yeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.” I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding about the soup thing.

“Okay, where do you keep your pots?” He asked, clapping his hands together.

“Bottom cupboard by the stove.” I pointed. I’m really not hungry and this really isn’t a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.

I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesn’t work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I don’t know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. “I made you a sandwich. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want, but it’s there.” I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.

“Thank you.” I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than I’d been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didn’t leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.

The next couple of days at school weren’t much better. Bryce was still being… nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasn’t nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. “This might be how he’s choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.”

“I get that, but its Bryce. Usually when he’s nice to a girl….”

“I know. He’s annoying and says stupid shit. But he’s my best friend. I know him. He’s actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If he’s your best friend, what does that make me?”

“My person or whatever.” He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.

“I knew you paid attention when we watched that.” I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.

The stares weren’t much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. She’s the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryce’s relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadn’t ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasn’t walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.

Scott Reed was the one person I couldn’t wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, you’re friends with my boyfriend and best friend so that’s something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasn’t trying to make any moves or anything. It’s probably just the way he’s processing things. Maybe he’s trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didn’t mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.

** **

I hadn’t retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. “Hey.” Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.

“Hey.” I replied. I sighed and shook my head.

“Are we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?” he asked, stepping into my room.

“I don’t know.”

“Your folks are downstairs waiting for you.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you want a drink?” I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.

“No. Need to be sober for this.”

He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasn’t the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. “Do you need help with the dress or are you good?”

“I think I’ll need you to zip it up.” I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didn’t look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasn’t usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. “Do I look okay Monty?” I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.

“You look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.” I replied, my voice cracking. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

“I know. But we need to.” He sighed. “Everyone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.”

“Clay. And I don’t know if it would honestly.” Before we went downstairs, I asked him, “can I take you up on your offer of flask juice?”

“Not right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didn’t topple over.

Jeff’s parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeff’s dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. “I’ll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).” She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.

“This can’t be happening.” I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. “We promised each other we would have forever.” There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.

“(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.” Jeff’s mom asked as my parents went to get some water.

“Umm,” I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. “I guess that would be okay.” I replied, not completely sure of my answer.

“Alright sweetie.” She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.

The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldn’t already be seated inside, I wouldn’t be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead of…. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldn’t help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldn’t make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel people’s eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.

“One foot in front of the other.” He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didn’t even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didn’t bother to think about what people would say about it. People here weren’t that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.

Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. “You’re good.” Monty said, after a quick once over.

“Okay.” I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. “um… thank you. For what you did in there.” I told him, awkwardly.

“It was no problem. That couldn’t have been easy.” He said. I shook my head. It wasn’t.

“Are we going to Jeff’s after this?” Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just don’t know if I can.

“I don’t… know?” I hesitated.

“You could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.” Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?

“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. “We could go to the docks afterwards.”

“Flask empty yet?” I asked.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.” He gasped, scandalously.

“I don’t mean for now. And that’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?” He was silent and avoided eye contact. “Exactly.”

“It’s not. But it’s not like we can’t refill it if we need to.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.

We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was “thoroughly fucked up” as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.

“I cannot deny that statement.” I said, watching the waves.

“Ready to go home then (Y/N/N)?”

I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, “no. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?”

“Today?” Scott asked.

“I think, given the day you’ve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know you’re safe.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.” I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.

“I can drive. I haven’t had that much to drink.” Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.

“See? Scott can drive. It’ll be fine. But if you scratch my car, I’ll beat you.” Monty threatened.

“Sure, you will Monty.” Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.

OCTOBER/NOVEMBER

The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so… normal. The only person who wasn’t allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.

Everything was normal. Until Hannah Baker’s suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that “Clay is helping me with my grades and I’m helping him with Hannah. They’re good for each other.” I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasn’t drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.

Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didn’t talk about it. He still didn’t really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just… there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. “You know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. What’s going on there (Y/N/N)?” He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.

“He hasn’t really talked to me, so I don’t know.”

He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. “What’s your deal, Scott?”

“My deal?” he said into his book.

“Why are you staring at me? And why do you act like you aren’t?”

“I don’t stare at you (Y/N).”

“Then what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?”

“I uh… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Monty said you’ve been asking about me.”

He looked up. “He did?”

“Yeah. So, I’ll ask again, what is your deal?”

“Nothing.” He pushed his book aside.

“Sure. Whatever.” I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. I’m already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing I’ve experienced in at least the last month.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.”

“He was my friend (Y/N).”

“I know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.”

“No problem.” The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.

That day in the library wasn’t the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.

Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. “What’s in the bag today Har?”

“Mini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.” I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.

“I thought we were past this Scotty.” I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.

“Old habits and all.”

“Mhmm. Right.”

“Actually (Y/N)?”

“Yes Scott?”

“Did you want to grab a coffee at Monet’s or something later?” I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. “As friends, obviously.” He added when he noticed my hesitation.

“Sure. Say 4:30?”

“4:30 works.”

“Okay.”

I met Scott at Monet’s just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasn’t a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.

“It’s like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).”

“I know. But this is my order.” Jeff did the same thing.

“I’m not judging.”

“It seems like you’re judging a little.” I smiled.

“Swear I’m not.” He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.

Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. “Aside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?”

“Video games but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.”

“No, it wasn’t. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I volunteer at the local animal shelter. What’s the weirdest movie you’ve ever seen doing that?”

“Central Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasn’t a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.”

“Huh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didn’t like it much either.”

“Glad to know I’m not alone. What do you do at the shelter?”

“Oh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, it’s pretty nice. It’s the best when you see a friend who’s been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that like?”

“It’s hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. It’s really adorable. They’re content.”

“That sounds like it’s really rewarding.”

“It is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.”

He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldn’t be worried about overstepping. “Are you sure that’s okay? Like you’re allowed to do that?” Oh, I see. That’s a relief.

“For sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Don’t worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people aren’t ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until they’re able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they aren’t as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesn’t love to play with puppies and kittens?”

He laughed heartily. “I’ll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?”

“Oh, I’m not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. It’s not a problem for the shelter. They don’t want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.”

“That makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.”

It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. “I’ll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Did you finish that already?” He nodded towards my now empty mug.

“Yes. It was delicious.”

Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still weren’t sure what to talk about, because we didn’t know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. “My folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.” I checked my phone and my brows rose.

“I should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.”

“Library tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure Scott. I’ll see you there.” On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.

Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friends’ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasn’t going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.

DECEMBER

I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didn’t really know him all that well outside of that. I didn’t realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.

“Why don’t you go for it and ask her?”

“I don’t know man. She’s really great and all but….”

“She was Jeff’s girlfriend. I get it.”

“He was my friend. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I know.” Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. “This is going to sound horrible. I realize that so don’t hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But… Jeff isn’t here anymore, Scott. He’s gone.” You’re right Mike. That is horrible. “There isn’t really a line to overstep. It’s not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just… is.”

“But do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friend’s girlfriend on a date?” A date? My cheeks flared. I couldn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.

“Maybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.”

“Help us what Mike?” Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.

“Help you move…” Mike paused, “on isn’t the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what I’ve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesn’t seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.”

“And how would asking her on a date help me?”

“You have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?”

“No.” He admitted.

“Exactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like you’re alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isn’t interested in that. So, either way, she won’t not be in your life.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.”

My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasn’t prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. “Hey Ticat.”

“Oh, uh. Hey Scott.”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Book for English.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Mhmm.” Oh my God this is awkward. Please don’t ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.

“(Y/N)!”

“What?”

“Monty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.” Once again this morning, my eyes widened. They’ll probably stick like this if it happens again today.

“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, “I uh… I need to go take care of that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to study today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

“No problem. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, text me.” I called as I ran off.

I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasn’t skipping. I had a doctor’s appointment. Scott didn’t appear to pick up on the change though. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. I’ve got it bad.

I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.

Sure. I’ll save you a seat.

Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.

In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. “Hey Ticat.”

“Hey Scotty. How’s the,” I paused and looked at his notes, “calculus coming?”

“It’s coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to pass.”

“I can try to help you?”

“I’ll see how far I can get with this and go from there?”

“Of course.” I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadn’t been bailing on him for a week.

When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.

“Walk you to class?”

“Sure.” I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.

“How have you been this week?”

“You know. Busy.”

“Yeah. How was the doctor?”

“Good. I got a clean bill of health.”

“That’s good.” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? “Hey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?”

“A random see what’s playing next, movie?”

“Sure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.”

“Scott?” I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?”

“What would you say if I was?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“I’d say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.”

“Saturday afternoon?”

“Sure. Saturday works for me.”

“Awesome.” He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.

Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and… and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasn’t sure what to wear. I wasn’t sure how to do my hair. I couldn’t call anyone to ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didn’t really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I don’t want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Levi’s. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.

The doorbell rang just before 12:30. “I’ll get it!” I called out to my parents in the other room.

“K.” Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.

“Hey (Y/N).”

“Hey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? It’s Scott Reed. It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before. Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because I’m going on a date with him?

“You look… really pretty.”

I blushed and looked down briefly. “Thank you. I wasn’t really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.” I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. “Uh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.”

“No, no. I’ll take pretty. I’m confident enough in my manhood that it’s a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one I’m interested in.”

“Trust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. “Did you have any particular movie in mind?”

“No, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?”

“I like the way you think. As long as it isn’t 2001. Because there isn’t a more boring film in existence.”

“Oh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for ‘family bonding time’ and I fell asleep like twice.”

“Your family does bonding time too?”

“Ugh. You don’t even want to know.” I sighed dramatically.

“Tell me about it next time?” Woah. Next time? That… doesn’t actually sound that bad.

“Next time? We haven’t even gotten through a movie together and you’re already talking about next time?”

“Well- I- uh- we-.”

“Scott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?”

“Okay.” He sounded relived.

When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the booth’s window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. “Welcome to the Crestmont.”

“Hi. How are you?” Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.

“Good. And you guys?”

“Good.” We answered together.

“How can I help you?”

“Can we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?”

“Two tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. That’ll be ten dollars please.” Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. “Enjoy the show.”

“Thank you.” I said.

Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. “Any chance you’ll let me pay for the snacks?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.”

“No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it Ticat.”

“Please?” I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. “Pretty please?”

“Ugh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.” He caved, dramatically.

“Yay.” I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. “Hi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?” I turned to Scott, “are we sharing popcorn? I don’t really eat very much.”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.”

“Can I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?”

“Coming right up.” I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.

After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. “I’m getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.”

“Scott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.”

“You’d get it back after the movie.”

“Fine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.”

“Only because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.”

“It’s a date.”

JANUARY

Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasn’t ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeff’s death.

Scott and I were on a date at Monet’s. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that ‘we are the only two people who exist when we are together’ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. “So, we’ve never really talked about it but,” he paused. Oh no. Please don’t ask about Jeff. I’m not ready to get into all of that. And I don’t want to do it in public. I’m going to cry. I know I will. “you and Monty seem pretty close. What’s the story there?” Oh, that’s it? Just Montgomery? Phew.

“Not really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There weren’t many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.”

“Interesting. He never mentioned it.”

“Well, he likes to keep his home life… private. Or….” I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasn’t my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.

“As private as he can when his dad is his dad.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. He’s crashed on my couch a few times. And it’s kind of hard not to notice the bruises.”

“Yeah. Unless you’re and authority figure at school in this town apparently.” I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.

“Your parents never…?”

“Offered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it ‘wasn’t their place to interfere’.” I rolled my eyes.

“I see.” He nodded, rolling his eyes too. “My parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.” I nodded.

“Anyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.”

“Cool. It’s good that he has you. The other guys….”

“Can be terrible excuses for human beings?” Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.

“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

“You know, it’s weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You and Jeff are so… good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and ‘you’re like family’ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesn’t want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, let’s call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. I’m not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.”

“No, no I know. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the ‘Atkins Voice of Reason’ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reason. It’s a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.

FEBRUARY

Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didn’t blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasn’t paying attention to him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?” I cooed and reached out to rub his head.

“Need some company? My shift is over.” I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.

“Always. How was your evening?”

“It was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.”

“It was alright. We had more than a few accidents.” He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scott’s chest.

“I see you’ve made a new friend.”

“It looks like I have. She’s very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?”

“With you going off to college next year? I don’t think so.”

“Damn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.” He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.

“Yeah. He hasn’t learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when you’re trying to get adopted.” We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.

A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeff’s grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldn’t tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.

I called Scott that morning. “Hey. Are you busy later?”

“Hey Ticat. No, I’m not. Why? Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeff’s grave with me today. Tell him about us?”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I think so. It’s time. I feel like it’s time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll pick you up at one?”

“Okay.”

I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of people’s final resting places. When we passed Hannah Baker’s grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.

It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeff’s grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scott’s eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasn’t really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didn’t reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I’m choosing to believe you can.” Scott started after I hadn’t said anything. “I miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass he’s been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. There’s some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.”

“Mrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we don’t have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.”

“We have a chance at making state again this year. It won’t feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but I’m keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.”

“We really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you aren’t. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’ve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.” I reached out to take Scott’s hand in mine. He squeezed it. “Scott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldn’t be there for me if I were him. He’s seen it all. Heck, he’s seen me puking on the side of the road.”

“Or getting piss drunk at the docks.” I pushed him lightly.

“Yes. And he’s shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. It’s harder some days than others. But he’s always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.” I had to pause because I was getting choked up.

“I see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. She’s kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesn’t need to be, she is. I wish I didn’t have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story can’t compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.” My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeff’s headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scott’s hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldn’t blow off in the wind.

“I love you.” I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.

MARCH

I was asleep on Scott’s chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. “Hello?” I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.

“(Y/N)?” Monty’s voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didn’t wake Scott.

“Monty, what’s wrong?”

“My arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I don’t think I can drive. Can you come help me?”

“Uh…” I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. “Yeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” He said before he hung up.

I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. “Scott.” I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. “Scott, wake up for a second.” I urged again.

“Hmm? Wha’s goin’ on?” he mumbled as he woke up.

“I need to go take care of something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If I’m not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay (Y/N).” He muttered, already falling back asleep.

After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldn’t be too confused if he didn’t remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Monty’s house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. “What are we telling them this time?” I asked after I paid for parking.

“Sex?”

I blinked at him slowly. “What the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?”

“The really kinky kind?”

“Pick something better.”

“I fell down the stairs?”

“Alright. That could be believable.” With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.

“It looks like you won’t need surgery. I will need to cast it though.” The doctor advised.

“Alright.” Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.

“Pick a colour and I’ll have you on your way soon.” He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, “turn on the light next time.”

“Will do Doc. Thank you.” Monty replied and waved with his good hand.

Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. “Hey, so my parents are out of town, but you’ll need to sleep in the guest room.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” he asked.

“Because?”

“Because why?”

I felt my face heat up a bit. “Um… my room might already be… occupied?” I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.

“You mean…?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Who is it?”

“Scott?” I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.

“Are we okay with that?”

I paused again, thinking. “Yes. Yeah, we are.”

“Well alright then.” he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.

The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. “Morning Monty. Sleep okay?”

“Morning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?”

“It was alright. Warmer than I’m used to.”

“I’ll bet it was.” He smirked at me.

“Oh shush you.” Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I am.” I nodded, smiling.

“Good. That’s good.” He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.

“Morning (Y/N).” Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.

“Morning Scott.” I replied.

“Morning Scotty.” Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.

“Uh. Morning Monty?” He looked to me and raised a brow.

“He needed me last night. I had to tell him.” I shrugged.

“Okay.” He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.

“Same rule applies as with my car. I’ll beat you if you scratch her.”

“Jump right to the threats, why not?” I muttered into my mug.

“I’m sure you will, Monty.”

“Damn straight.”

“Even though I’m your favourite friend?”

“(Y/N) is my favourite.”

“I’m your person. Not your favourite.”

“Yes you are.”

“You don’t call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.”

“Excuse me?” Scott interjected, alarmed.

“She made me watch Grey’s Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. I see. How was that?”

“It’s network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.”

“No boobs?”

“No boobs.”

“Yeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.” I added.

“Does this mean I have to watch it with you?”

“No, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I don’t understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.”

“You hate watch it. I can’t wait.”

“Well, you’ll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.” I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.

“Oh really?”

“And on that note! Who wants… whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and… meat? What is this meat?” Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.

“I think it’s pork. Could be ground turkey though. There’s potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?”

“Sounds delicious.” Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.

“How long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that I’m still here so you can’t be all touchy.”

Scott looked at me before answering. “Since December.”

“How did I not notice?” Monty said after a pause.

“I don’t know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? There’s also spinach. Do I add the spinach?” I turned around and the boys were both making faces. “No spinach then.”

“I was not busy with Bryce.”

“Mhmm. That’s not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?”

“Okay, point made.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?”

“Just asking.” Scott turned to me and whispered, “his dad?” I nodded.

“No flirting.”

“I didn’t get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.” I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Good morning handsome.”

***

“Monty knows now.”

“He does.” I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. “He’s okay with it.”

“That’s good.”

“You aren’t going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.”

“No, I know. What was the fight about this time?”

“Who knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.”

Scott laughed. “What the fuck kind of sex would that have been?”

“The kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.”

“You would have been the top?”

“Yes. So, you see why we couldn’t say that.”

“Right. That’s why.”

“We said he fell down the stairs.”

“Plausible.”

“Anyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. There’s a reason I don’t go to his house very often.” I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.

“Hey Scotty?”

“Yeah, (Y/N/N)?”

I sat up and turned to him. “Now that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe… maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?”

“I think we can tell people, if you want to. I don’t care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.”

“I know. People might talk for a few days, but they’ll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.”

“Not my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.” I joked.

“The people who complain can fuck off.”

“I guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.”

“We don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to (Y/N).”

“I do. I think we need to. I don’t want to hide you anymore. It’s time for me to start living my life in the open again.”

“And honestly, I’m tired of hiding you.” We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. “I should probably head home soon sweetheart.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course.” Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.

Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldn’t be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.

#montgomery de la cruz #jeff atkins #scott reed #scott reed imagine #Scott Reed x Reader #scott reed x reader #Jeff Atkins x reader #Jeff Atkins deserved better #13 reasons why #13rw #thirteen reasons why #writeblr #fanfiction #fan fiction

309 notes · View notes

tracybirds · 3 years

Text

Paper Dreams

John receives a prestigious invite and he’s not sure how to respond.

Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the encouragement because I am nerves!!

* * *

The crisp white envelope was heavy in his hands as he hurried from the room. Paper was a formality, a mark of distinction that would surely draw his brothers’ unwanted attention. Letters didn’t just arrive unannounced in this era of high-speed data connections and quantum supercomputers. In fact, they didn’t arrive at all.

So, John was more than a little apprehensive when Grandma Tracy silently handed him the sealed envelope and walked away.

It took only a few short minutes to read through the contents and he sat back against the window in his room, the words whirling in his mind.

Mars Colonisation Project. Distinguished candidate. Invited to apply.

An opportunity of a lifetime.

A way to prove for once and for all that he was more than his father’s famous name.

John clutched at the letter, the paper crinkling in his grasp. He mouthed the words as he read them, over and over.

He looked up at the sound of a loud yell calling his name, hurriedly shoving the letter into the envelope and dropping it at his side. Snatching up a nearby tablet, his flushed ears were the only hint of the letter that remained when Gordon shoved open the door.

“John, dinner, hurry up.”

His brother tore out of the room before he could respond.

* * *

John slipped into his seat, mouthing an apology to Grandma Tracy as he did.

“Finally!” cried Alan. He wriggled back in his seat, staring hopefully at the food. “Grandma said we had to wait for you, you took forever!”

“Is Dad not eating?” asked Virgil. “I heard him come in.”

“He’s taking it in the study tonight,” said Grandma Tracy, shaking her head slightly. “Brains dropped by and they’re holing up together on that project of theirs.”

John glanced over at the conspicuously empty seat at the head of table. They all knew what ‘that project’ meant.

In the heady rush of excitement, he’d all but forgotten the silent expectation that accompanied his studies and extra-curriculars for the past five years. A pet project alone wouldn’t have been enough to deter him from his own ambitions, but the Thunderbirds, they offered something different, something more than the office politics of academia, squabbling over research grants.

He’d never known anything that could compete.

Until now.

“Hey,” said Virgil in a low tone, nudging him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

John pulled himself back into the present with a slight grimace.

“Fine. Just thinking about an assignment.”

Virgil nodded slowly, looking him up and down with a critical eye.

“Are you going to eat anything, or just push it around?”

John automatically lifted his fork, blinking as the peas fell back to the plate and landed in a pile of mushy, grey potatoes.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry.”

“Can I have yours?” asked Alan, already reaching over to grab at his plate.

“Not hungry, John?” asked Grandma Tracy. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

She examined the pinched look in his face and the nervous twist of one hand inside the other.

“No,” said John, wishing he hadn’t said anything. The last thing he wanted was any level of scrutiny. “I’m fine, Grandma, honest.”

He let Alan scrape his leftovers from his plate, realising with a pang than he’d had another growth spurt over the previous semester at his boarding school.

If he left for Mars, he’d return to a brother he’d hardly recognise.

Colonisation was a long-term project, the result of years in planning and decades of dreams. Countless people would put their life’s work into its development and they had every right to expect the same of their astronauts. The application process alone was heavily involved and would severely limit time with his family, to say nothing of the many years ahead for him on Mars if he made it all the way into space. He’d be travelling millions of miles from home, only to find himself living with a group of strangers that he couldn’t escape without logging an external environment report.

He didn’t even like sharing a bathroom at the university housing that much.

Still the piece of paper called to him.

“Can I be excused?”

Grandma Tracy nodded and he hurried from the room, not noticing her troubled look.

The warmth of the room followed him into the hallway and he shut the door firmly behind him. He thrust his hand into his pocket, searching for the reassuring touch of cool paper.

It was real.

It was real and if he let the opportunity pass by, he might regret it for the rest of his life.

Or he might be wasting his time, pinning his hopes on something that would only serve to distract him in the long run. He could only imagine what Scott would say, who’d never once taken his eye off a prize once he’d decided to aim for it.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what he wanted, and found himself climbing into the cramped space under the roof that had generously called a playroom, then a study, then an attic.

He blinked as the bare bulb overhead lit the small room, filling it with old memories and dust.

His first telescope was still standing in the corner, pointing high in the sky and he lifted the edge of his T-shirt to wipe the dust away. Surrounding it, lay stacks of books that his mom had picked up from the local thrift store, that Mrs Delaney, the owner, put them aside just for him.

John walked carefully among them, tugging the small window open and staring out into the night. The stars shone bright in the clear, crisp air.

Crouching down, he peered through the eye piece, adjusting the focus with a practiced hand. The little reflector was nothing like the giant telescopes available at the college department, and he had to hold his breath to stop the stand from wobbling. But the universe was still out there, the same as it was when he was a kid, still holding an infinite number of mysteries despite the years he had spent uncovering the rules that held it together.

He looked up, eyes darting through the familiar patterns, searching for the anomaly he knew was wandering between Gemini and Taurus.

And there it was.

Mars.

A planet with so much to offer the world they lived on. Where he could work with a team of people who loved space just like him, where he could devote his life to researching astronomy from a new perspective and developing technology for interplanetary life for generations to come.

Where he could leave his mark alongside all the heroes of his childhood. Alongside his dad.

“After all, why shouldn’t I go?” he said, scowling up at Mars.

“Go where?”

John spun around with a start.

“Kayo! When did you get in?”

She shrugged, propping up her head with her hand.

“Long enough to see you come up here,” she said. “I waited for you, but then Mrs Tracy said you hadn’t eaten. Figured something was wrong.”

She looked him up and down with a piercing eye. John tried not to squirm. He’d always felt Kayo had something of a sixth sense when it came to knowing things that should have been a secret.

“Seems like I was right,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then where are you planning on going?”

“Nowhere. I don’t think, that is…”

He flopped down and tilted his head back with a huff.

“Not right now, at any rate.”

Kayo pulled herself up onto the floor and drew the ladder upwards.

Neither spoke as the trapdoor shut with a small ‘click’.

The dust swirled in the air, dancing in the shafts of light above them.

“Is it a graduate program?”

“No.”

“An international program?”

“No.”

“A long-term space colonisation program for specially selected candidates who have already proven themselves in the fields of communications, astrophysics and astrotechnology?”

John stared at her.

She shrugged.

“It’s my job to know.”

“So, why even ask?”

“I’m trying to get you to lower your guard.”

She smiled at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“You’ve met Brains, right? He’s got some server tracker that flags your name. They asked your advisor for academic and personal references months ago.”

“Oh God,” said John, dropping his head in his ands and staring wildly at the floor. “Does Dad already know?”

Kayo shook her head.

“Dad and I do. Security details and all. But we don’t tell him that kind of stuff, you know, he’s not spying on you.”

“You’re right, that’s a real comfort,” said John, drily.

Kayo tossed her head.

“I’m just saying.”

Her eyes softened as she watched him draw his knees close to his chest.

“He doesn’t know.” She hesitated, still watching him. “Would it be all that bad if he did though?”

John huffed a little, still staring at his knees.

“International Rescue’s all we’ve ever talked about,” he said. “I didn’t think there’d be anything else I wanted. What if I let him down?”

“He’s already proud of you, John.”

“But we’ve been working towards it for so long now. This would change everything. Delay the full scope of the project for months, or years even.”

Kayo snorted.

“You really think Jeff Tracy, resident billionaire and with access to the best tech in the world, wouldn’t be able to find another genius astrotechnician and communication expert?”

John shot her a withering look.

“Okay, so maybe he’d have to find two super geniuses.”

She easily dodged the picture book he threw in her direction.

“Leave off,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Kayo spotted the slight smile though, and grinned broadly in return.

“Can I?” she asked, nodding at the space between him and the wall.

John nodded and shuffled over as best he could, trying not to topple the book stacks around them.

Kayo wriggled into the gap, and John paid her no mind.

He hadn’t thought of who would take his place because, of course, someone must. He’d been preparing for an International Rescue without him, one where his family diverted communications for a few years and focused their efforts on establishing themselves on land and sea until Alan stepped into his role on Thunderbird Five.

He hadn’t imagined an International Rescue where he wasn’t even needed.

Kayo seemed to sense the turn in his thoughts, nudging him gently to pull him from them.

“He wouldn’t trust them half as much as you, you know.”

John shrugged.

“I don’t want to disappoint him,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t want that to be the only reason I don’t go.”

He took a deep breath, and glanced back up at the slowly setting planet.

“And I want to go,” he admitted. “I do. I need to tell him.”

Kayo nodded, a sad look in her eyes. They sat in silence together, lost in their own thoughts. The bustle of the house downstairs filtered upwards. Muffled bangs and indistinct shouts of Gordon and Alan playing some ridiculous game, loud music from Virgil’s room – the kind he put on to drown out any interruption to his painting. Grandma Tracy seemed to be having some kind of one-sided conversation with herself, until John remembered, with a pang, that it was Saturday morning out in Guam and she was likely speaking to Scott at that very moment.

Kayo sighed and dropped her head on John’s shoulder.

“I’d miss you though.”

John swallowed carefully past the sudden lump in his throat.

“I’d miss you too.”

* * *

John was too old to be summoned to his father’s study, but somehow deliberately interrupting him felt worse. Nausea sat like a rock in his stomach, his voice box left in tatters as he knocked on the solid oak door.

“Who is it?”

He couldn’t reply.

His eyes flitted across the family photos that littered the hallway, landing finally on the image of his father and crewmates waving to the masses as they entered the Herschel-VI.

The photograph didn’t show the way his father was blind to the crowd, his farewell only for the woman who stood half a mile from the launchpad, proud, so proud, and sick with worry too. She held tight to her eldest son with one hand, and rested her other on the stroller she was rocking back and forth. She didn’t see the way he had wriggled out of his restraints nor how he was preparing to drop to the ground and run away, already intent on chasing after his father at three years old.

Jeff Tracy, first man on Mars, opened the door with a frown and a touch of impatience, and John knew there would be no escape this time.

“John.”

“Dad.”

His throat closed around his words and his hand closed around the letter in a fist.

Jeff looked down at the sound, and looked back at John, an assessing look in his eye. He stepped back wordlessly and John entered the severe room.

“What’s happened, son?” he asked, holding his hand out for the letter.

He smoothed down the crumpled edges as he read, his eyes leaping from phrase to phrase on the page.

“Well, it seems congratulations are in order. I assume you intend to accept?”

The knot in John’s chest loosened and he collapsed into the chair opposite Jeff.

“I intend to apply,” he corrected, staring down at the desk between them.

“John, they don’t reach out like this unless they want you onboard. They intend you to be on that shuttle, regardless of the formalities the bureaucrats put in place.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blueprints, Brains’ small, neat handwriting annotating each design and his father’s looping comments scrawled liberally across them.

Jeff followed his line of sight and smiled.

“Five won’t be operational for a few more years, you know that. Don’t let her be what holds you back.”

“But this was always it, this is why I’m getting space rated. And the satellite network still needs to be launched, and the orbital mechanics calculated.”

“An opportunity like this doesn’t come your way twice, son.”

John stopped.

“You think I should accept. If they say yes.”

“Don’t you?”

There it was. His father’s blessing laid out in front of him, just waiting to be taken up like a pennant.

Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d sacrificed, gone. In its place, a single shining achievement, a global community on their sister planet. The first of its kind.

It had been a long time since John had allowed himself to dream his own dreams.

“Alright,” he said, a giddy rush spinning his head so that he hardly knew what he was saying. “I’m gonna do it.”

#john tracy #kayo kyrano #jeff tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic

49 notes · View notes

beskarhearts · 4 years

Text

Where You Belong (Din Djarin x reader)

Connection series Pt. 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, nightmares, loss, anxiety, angst (and lots of fluff)

Word count: over 7.5K

Summary: Din takes you on a picnic but also realizes he had forgotten to tell you something very important.

Notes: This chapter... it was an experience to write it. I am really interested to see your reaction to it and I hope you love it! I was also wondering from any other fanfic writers and from you readers: what do you think is the best time to post new chapters?

Previous Part ____ Next Part

______________________________________________________

You walked into your grandmother’s room to find her pacing around frantically. You instantly recognized the expression on her face. She was pissed. Absolutely livid. Her face was all scrunched up, her eyebrows bunched together, and she was biting her lip raw. She didn’t even notice you in the doorway, clearly too busy being consumed in her thoughts. “Who put you in this great of a mood, Gram?” you joked, half expecting her to go off on a tangent about your mother. The two of them had been at each others throats lately, especially ever since you accidentally revealed to your mom that your grandma had been training you.

Her train of thought broke and she jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting any visitors. She turned to look at you, her eyes warming up a little bit at the sight of you but you could still feel the upset radiating off her body. You both were similar in that way: you both felt deeply. “Damn Mandalorians.”

It was now your turn to scrunch up your eyebrows, giving her a quizzical expression at her answer. You had heard of Mandalorians and knew they were armored bounty hunters. But your knowledge didn’t really surpass that. “Mandalorians?”

She scoffed, as if the question was so stupid, and shook her head. “Yes. I ran into one on my way home from town and,” she bit her lip, trying to find something to say besides just a string of curse words “They are ignorant and awful people.”

The statement shocked you. Gram was a strong, hard-headed woman who wasn’t ever afraid to tell the truth. But she wasn’t biased. She was accepting of all people, creatures, animals, and even droids. It was just part of her, to accept people as they were and not judge them based off what they looked like or their beliefs. “Woah. What is so wrong with Mandalorians?”

You knew it wasn’t because of their job. You lived on Jakku your whole life and had seen everything, from scavengers to bounty hunters to even worse. It was part of everyday life here and never appeared to bother her. “They hate us. Because of who we are.”

“What?”

“Mandalorians and Jedis do not get along. They are enemies.”

She finally sat down on her bed, strumming her fingers against her thighs. She was still frustrated but seeming to calm down. You sat next to her, looking over at her. “Why?”

“There was a Mandalorian-Jedi War that happened on their planet, the planet of Mandalore.”‘

“Mandalorians have their own planet?”

“Not anymore. In the war, the Jedi’s won but they destroyed Mandalore. It’s practically inhospitable.”

Your face softened. That sounded horrible. You couldn’t imagine your home planet just being destroyed into absolute nothingness. Your Gram noticed your expression and shook her head. “You are too kind. You can’t empathize with the Mandalorians.”

“Their whole entire planet got destroyed. That seems... extreme.”

The woman stood up, now facing you with a fierceness in her eyes and her finger pointed at you. “The only reason that war happened is because the Mandalorians hated us. They didn’t understand our powers and instead of leaving us alone, they created weapons and armor to destroy us.”

“Okay. But that was in the past.”

“It doesn’t matter. That hatred is still there.” She bent down so she could be eye level. “Listen to me closely. If you ever meet an Mandalorian, do not trust them or befriend them. Because as soon as they learn what you are, they will hate you and probably want to kill you. Mandalorians are brutish people with no compassion. They might as well be damn droids. Do you understand?”

You had never heard your grandmother speak about anyone like this and it shocked you to the core. You questioned whether or not this was just some old beef she was still holding onto, or whether this was reality. Either way, you nodded your head slowly, not wanting to upset her further. “Okay. I won’t.”

_________________________________

“Din, this is taking forever.”

“Sweet one, you are being very impatient.”

“I just don’t like my vision being restricted.”

“I am leading you to something you will like.”

“Can’t I just close my eyes on my own and you can take your big man hands away from my eyes?”

“No. Because you will look.”

You huff at his response, crossing your arms as Din continued leading you towards this secret destination. It was true - you probably would try to sneak a peak - but you just wanted his hand off your face because it was making you uneasy. One hand was still gloved but the other wasn’t and that was the one covering your eyes. His whole hand was so large, covering a ridiculously large portion of your face, and they were warm. You could feel yourself flush from the skin to skin contact. “Well, are we close at least?”

“Yes.”

Din had told you that you guys were landing on a random planet and he had a surprise for you. He had locked you in the ship, telling you not look out the windows of the cockpit, and gone outside for what felt like forever. Then once he finally came back, he insisted you couldn’t look until you were at the surprise. But that had felt like forever ago and you two had just been walking on and on. You tried to pay attention to your surroundings as much as you could, gathering clues as to where you were and what you were doing. You knew their was grass because it was brushing against your ankles with each step you took towards your destination. It was also moist, meaning you were probably on a planet where it rained. Every once and a while, you would heard a loud squawk ring out, meaning there were animals of some type around. But otherwise, all you heard was the rustling of the breeze against the grass and what you believed to be trees. You didn’t hear any other voices or sounds for miles, meaning you were most likely completely alone.You could feel the sun on your skin, spreading warmth throughout your body. It sounded weird but you could smell the nature. You could smell the grass and the wind and something sweet - maybe a fruit or flower of some sort.

You continued walking until your foot tumbled into something hard, causing you to spring forward and Din held you up so you didn’t fall. “See? This is a safety hazard. I could of died just now.”

Din let out a scoff and he was so close that it felt like you could feel the modulator reverberate through you. “I’m holding on to you. You weren’t going to die.”

“That’s what you think. But just wait. A rock is going to take me out and then you will be sorry.”

Din finally stopped, your body once again lurching against him in the sudden change. His hand still covered your eyes, fingers pressed tightly together so you couldn’t peak through. “Are you going to keep blabbering or do you want to see what it is?”

You smiled big, finally satisfied that you had stopped walking. “We are finally done walking?”

“You whine a lot for a person being surprised.”

You let out a laugh at the insult. “And you are very bossy for a man being the surpriser.”

Another exasperated sigh. “Maybe we should head back to the Crest.”

“Oh, shut up and take your hands off me.” Din’s hand finally dropped from your face and it took you a second to adjust to the surroundings. It was bright, the sun shining above you two. You blinked a few times, finally adjusting to the change when you let out a small gasp.

You were stood in the middle of a field full of hundreds of flowers. They were of all kinds, some short and some tall. Some were large and some were small. They came in every color you could ever imagine and you swore you had never seen something so beautiful. You had never lived in a place that wasn’t mostly barren and almost monochromatic. You knew there were planets with flowers and colors and vibrancy, but you never could of imagined that it could be this gorgeous. You took a deep breath in, smelling the divine sweetness of all the plants surrounding you. A small laugh escaped your lips at the wonder of it. This seemed like a place totally unscathed by the word. It hadn’t been touched by the evil and corruptness of this galaxy and there was an inherent pureness to it.

You heard a shuffle through the flowers and looked down to find the kid, grabbing at flowers with a big smile. You knew what was coming before it even happened as he grabbed a handful of petals and shoved it into his mouth. You giggled as Din bent over, scolding him about not eating everything he saw.

You turned back to look at everything when your eyes landed on a blanket in the middle of the field, laid out perfectly. It was one of the blankets you had bought at the marketplace, it’s beautiful array of colors nearly blending in with the flowers. Neatly arranged on the blanket was a variety of food and a container of drink. You felt the biggest smile crawl onto your face as you realized what it was. “Din Djarin, did you set up a picnic?”

You turned around, seeing him standing there in the field with the kid held in his arms. The sight of it took your breath away. The sun reflected off Din’s armor, making him stand out and shine. The contrast between the silver of the metal and the flowers around him was stunning. The kid was held in his arm, trying to get away with a big toothy grin on his face, a petal in the corner of his mouth as his ears flopped gently in the breeze. You were taken aback by how beautiful your family was and how much joy a single moment like this could make you feel. You felt in that moment like this is where you belonged. Wherever Din was was where you knew you were meant to be.

“Yeah. I guess I did.” Din said, shrugging his shoulders as if this wasn’t the one of the nicest things anybody had ever done with you. You found yourself wanting to run towards him and hug him, feel him hold you in his arms, with your kid between you guys letting out little giggles. “I thought this would be okay. A nice stop.”

“Okay?” You shook your head at Din. “Din, this is... breathtaking. I have never seen anything like this.”

Din stepped towards you, his helmet leaning down as you made eye contact with his visor. “I’m glad. You deserve something like this.”

You shyly smiled at his words, cursing yourself for feeling your face heat up. “So do you, Din.”

_________________________________

You had now spent hours out here, sitting in this field with Din while just talking and playing with the kid, who had somehow successfully caught (and eaten) three butterflies. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping slightly, although it was a pleasant, welcoming coolness after a day in the sun. You had eaten food and it was all delicious. Succulent, juicy fruits and bread that had been warmed by the sun. Now the child was asleep and back in his hover pram, the cover on completely in order to block any light from bothering him.

You turned to look over at Din, who had sat with you the whole time, and suddenly felt incredibly rude. “Din, you didn’t eat anything.”

Din shrugged his shoulders. You knew he probably hadn’t even noticed. When you first joined him, you noticed that he could go hours without eating. It was very inconvenient for him to eat, especially when there were people around. And you understood that but you swore the man could go literal days without consuming anything and he wouldn’t even think twice about it. You eventually started forcing him to eat, leaving him alone in the hull of the ship while you and the kid sat in the cockpit, that way he could eat alone and properly enjoy a meal. “I’m fine.”

You shook your head and started pushing the food in front of him. “No, come on. You need to eat.” You looked all around, surveying the area for any people. You hadn’t seen a single soul today and Din told you there were no inhabitants on the planet, which you found shocking. “How about I take the kid back to the Crest and you can eat out here? Enjoy the fresh air.”

You started rising from your place on the ground when Din grabbed at your arm, pulling you down. “No. Don’t go.”

You smiled at the tone of his voice. “It’s fine.”

“Wait,” You paused again, looking back at Din to see his helmet looking right at you. “I trust you.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows, not exactly sure how that pertained to the discussion but you still felt warmth pool in your chest. “I’m very glad you trust me but I don’t know what that has to do with you eating.”

“I have an idea.”

You quirked an eyebrow, tilting your head at him. “What?”

“Just sit right there, okay?”

You nodded slowly, dropping yourself back down next to him. You watched as Din’s hand left your wrist and he brought them up to his neck, pulling at the bunch of fabric wrapped around it. “Din, what are you doing?”

The fabric pooled away from his neck and you tried your best to tear your eyes away from the skin but found it hard to. His skin was tan, surprising to you since he always wore the armor, but it looked warm and inviting. “Just let me do something.”

Din scooted closer to you, taking the scarf in his hands and folding it over before bringing it up to your face. You leaned back a little until he pulled the fabric over your eyes and you realized what he was doing. You felt him tug at the back of your head, securely tying the fabric in place. “Can you see anything?”

You turned your head in the direction the voice was coming from. It was pitch black and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing unless you tore the fabric away. “No. Completely dark.”

“You okay like that?”

You smiled softly at his question. You appreciated how he always checked in on you, to make sure you were okay. Even if it inconvenienced his comfortability. “Yes. I’m very comfortable with blindfolds.” You meant it as a joke but felt yourself cringe at the words that spilled from your mouth. “That sounded way worse than I meant it.”

You heard Din snort, a sound that wiped away any embarrassment you felt. “Okay. I’m going to take it off. Just don’t take the scarf away from your eyes.”

“I won’t.”

A click rung out, followed by a long hiss, and it suddenly hit you. Din was taking his helmet off. You knew he did that before. He surely didn’t shower or sleep with it on. But when he was doing those things, you weren’t sat right next to him. You didn’t have the power to look, not that you ever would put him in that situation. You found yourself wondering if he had ever done this before with anyone else.

You heard some shuffling and a plop on the blanket, probably him placing his helmet right next to him. You listened closely for the next sound to signal what was happening when you heard him take what sounded like a bite, that was followed by a hum. You smiled, glad that Din was able to enjoy the meal and not just scarf it down as fast as possible like he always did. “This fruit is good.”

Maker. You felt like your whole entire body just melted. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that since Din’s helmet was off, you would hear his voice. Like his actual voice. Nothing modulated or tainted by a helmet. Just him. And it was the best sound you had ever heard. His voice was still kind of raspy like it was in the helmet, but softer and so much warmer. It reminded you of the sun and the happiness it brought you. And it was a weird thing to think, but you thought that his voice sounded like how brown eyes look. At least how you think his eyes looked. You suddenly cursed his damn helmet for blocking out his sweet voice and couldn’t believe this was your first time hearing it, unfiltered and just so uniquely Din.

“Y-yeah.” You mumbled out, still being so affected by hearing his voice.

“Are you okay?” You smiled brightly at his question. You swear you could listen to him talk all day. The man could never shut up and you would be perfectly content. You found yourself plotting ways to get him to take off the helmet so you could hear it more often, not caring that you had to wear a blindfold in order to hear it.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You are just... smiling.”

You probably looked like a raging lunatic, a blindfold over your eyes and the biggest smile on your face as Din just sat there and ate. “I’ve never heard your voice before. At least not without the helmet.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve got a great voice.”

“I have a great voice?” Genuine confusion could be heard and you let out a little chuckle at it.

“Yes. It’s nice. Comforting.” You spared him anymore details, probably already making a fool of yourself and not wanting to embarrass him further by droning on about his voice, because you knew you could do it.

“I’ve never had anyone tell me that. Though I can’t really think of anyone whose heard my voice before.”

“Well, I feel honored.” You laid back against the blanket, not being able to see it, but facing the sky. You brought your hands to behind your head, leaning back on them. “Talk more.”

A small noise, perhaps a clearing of the throat, could be heard in response to that. “About what?”

You paused a moment, thinking before coming to an answer. “Teach me some Mando’a.” You loved hearing Din speak Mando’a. It was a part of his life he was able to share with others and you imagined hearing him speak it without the helmet on was even better.

“Okay. Let me think.” Din paused and you heard him take another bite. You imagined him, fully clad in his armor with his head poking out. You had a hard time imagining his face but you still had a few ideas. He probably had brown hair that matched eyes. He didn’t seem like a guy with light hair or really, really dark hair. He probably had a nice, strong chin that matched his personality. “Mesh’la.”

You repeated the word, nodding when he hummed to indicate you pronounced it properly. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful.”

You smiled. That seemed like a perfect word to describe this moment. “Good word for this place.”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

“Aliit. That means family.”

You smiled again. “Aliit. I like that word. Keep going.”

“Cabur.”

“And that means?”

“Protector.”

“Very fitting for you.”

“You think so?” His voice was softer this time and you could sense a feeling of either pride or perhaps gratefulness. It made your heart soften. You knew how seriously he took protecting you guys, and cabur seemed like the perfect title for him.

You nodded quickly. “Of course, Din. Tell me more.”

“So needy.” You heard him laugh and Maker, it was even better than his voice. Even warmer and brighter.

“Shut up and keep talking.” You teased, one of the corners of your lips quirking upwards.

“Mir’sheb.”

“Ooh, let me guess. Something sweet and nice.”

“Smart ass.”

You let out a loud laugh at that one, sitting upright again, getting closer to Din and hearing his laugh echo out once again into the field. His laugh was all-consuming and like that first breath of fresh air after going so long without it. “What does shit head mean? That way I can have a new, special nick name for you.”

Din let out another laugh at the joke. “I don’t know about shit head but shit is osik.”

“I like that word.”

“Of course you do.”

You both chuckle and you hear him eat some more food. “One more word.”

You heard him hum, pausing for a few moments. “Murcyur.”

“What does that one mean?”

“Kiss.”

You froze completely. Why the hell would Din say something like that? Because now all you can think about is kissing Din and the mere thought of it is giving you heart palpitations and you feel like you might just explode. His lips are just out, exposed. Probably very kissable. They are probably like his hands - rough but also soft. The kind of lips that are masculine but gentle, not over aggressive.

Shit. This is not okay. You can’t be thinking about kissing Din. Because this is just a rabbit hole and one second you are thinking about kissing Din and the next you are wanting to marry the man. And you don’t live the kind of life where you can just think things like this.

Then you realized you couldn’t see Din and what if he was going to do something. Something like kiss you. You’re pretty sure that if he did that, you’d fucking pass out and you can’t have that happen. You let out an awkward chuckle, not even sure why you were laughing but not able to stop it. “Good to know, buster.”

Where the fuck did buster come from? You are pretty sure you have never, ever said that word your whole entire life. And you are certain that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Out of all the dumb shit to leave your mouth, that took the cake. Change the topic, dumb ass. “Can I ask you a question?”

You didn’t even have a fucking question planned. What were you doing? You heard Din say, “Yeah.” and your mind blanked.

Any question. A single question. “What happens if someone sees your face?”

Great, now he probably just thinks that is all you care about. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if you are in the refresher and I accidentally walk in on you? Do you have to kill me?”

“Do you often think about walking in on me when I’m in the refresher?” Din said the words plainly, like he was asking an innocent question, but you swore you could hear the grin on his face.

You scoffed theatrically, hoping you weren’t showing just how flustered you were. “No. I was just inquiring.”

Din hummed, still teasing you, and you suddenly wanted him to shut up very badly. He was getting too cocky. “Well, one of two things happen if someone sees me. First option is I kill them.”

“Well then I will definitely never walk in on you in the shower.” You paused. “N-not that I wanted to.”

“Well, I wouldn’t kill you anyways. I never could.”

“What then? Drop me off on a planet?”

Din scoffed like you had suggested the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I would never abandon you. Ever.”

“Well then, what is this second option?” Din is suddenly silent and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he simply disappeared. “Hello?”

“Well, you either kill them or... ummm-” You hear him fumble with his words and normally you’d find it adorable (especially without the helmet) but now it is just making you nervous.

“Or..?”

“Marry them.”

Now that caused you to take a sharp intake of air in and then start choking like a damn idiot. You swore that the galaxy had it out for you in that moment because this was all way too much for you to handle. Din and you in a field of the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen, talking about kissing and marrying and hearing his voice... It was like you were overdosing.

Then you were hit with the realization of what Din truly said. If Din wouldn’t kill you or ditch you if you ever accidentally saw him... shit. “Huh... neat.” You muttered, finally trying to collect yourself.

“You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Make a joke or something. “You just better hope I never accidentally see that face of yours because you don’t want to be stuck with me as your riddur.”

“How do you know that word?”

“What word?”

“Riddur.”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that the woman at the stand had taught you that word and not Din. “You must have said it before.”

“I’ve never said that word before.”

“Oh, yes. It must of been from my secret Mando’a tutor then.” You smirked, hoping Din shrugged it off and luckily he didn’t say anything else.

“Let me put my helmet back on.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine.”

“No. It’s getting dark and I’ve had it off long enough.” You heard some movement and then a click that you registered as Din’s helmet being put back on. You then heard him shuffle towards you, his fingers untying the knot and the scarf dropping from your eyes. You blinked a few times and realized it was getting pretty dark, the sun just barely skirting the horizon. You turned, seeing Din besides you, putting the scarf back around his neck.

You gave him a small smile. “This was nice.”

“Yeah. It was.” He gave you a small nod before starting to stand. “We should start heading back to the Crest.”

“Yeah.”

_________________________________

Your nightmares happen way less often but now when they occur, it’s worse than before.

It is always the same thing. Your home, the very place you had been born in all those years ago, was up in flames, illuminating the night sky in a way that caused your stomach to twist up. The wounds on your back and arms were fresh, stinging so much with every movement that it felt like you would bunch over and hurl from it. You keep stumbling and that’s when you find them. Your parents, laid on the ground like rag-dolls. Like they were meaningless. And every time you see them, you let out a wail so loud it seems to consume every part of your being, until you are nothing but the very pain you feel.

That is usually how it would end. But now it wouldn’t just be your parents. Din would be there, in his beskar armor, laid out on the ground. And you couldn’t see his face but every fiber of your being knew he was gone and it was your fault. You would feel your stomach absolutely drop and this terrifying dread fill every part of your body, consuming you until you felt like you’d collapse. And even when you eventually woke up, sweat covering your body and your hands shaking, that feeling would still be there, eating you up raw.

Tonight was no exception. You woke up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating with such an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over you, almost drowning you in it. You brought your shaky hands up to your face, wiping away at the tears streaming down it. Nights like these were tough. You’d lay there on your cot, staring up at the ceiling and fighting sleep. Because you couldn’t fall asleep and see it again. The images were already burned into your mind and that was bad enough. Experiencing it again was a hell you couldn’t endure multiple times, especially not in the same night.

You sit up, planting your hands on your knees and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. The Crest was completely silent, until you heard a small sound from the cockpit. You looked over to where Din slept, finding the door closed which meant he should of been asleep. You reach for the blaster you’ve kept hidden under your pillow, your fingers reaching around it and pulling it in front of you. Your hands were still shaking slightly but you held the blaster confidently in front of you, rising from the cot and slowly letting yourself step towards the noise coming from the cockpit, tip toeing silently towards the ladder leading to the small space. You keep one hand of the blaster, using the other to slowly make your way up. You pop your head up, blaster coming up with you, and exhale when you see it’s just Din in his seat, polishing some armor.

“Din, what are you doing?” You quietly hiss, pulling your whole body up and into the cockpit, putting the blaster down and sitting down in the passengers seat.

Din looked up at you, his helmet moving from his armor to your face. He was in his pajamas still, long sleeve shirt and long pants covering most of his skin. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I,” You trail off, not wanting to bother Din with your nightmare. You would rather ignore it and just talk with him. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“You were just knocked out when I came up here.”

“Oh, so you watch me sleep now?” You raise an eyebrow teasingly, already feeling more at ease.

“Yeah. The drool really does something for me.”

You gasp at Din’s quip, your mouth slightly widened in shock. “I do not drool.”

“Okay, sweet one.” Din sarcastically said, his helmet rolling back down to the armor in his lap.

You roll your eyes, scoffing slightly to which you hear Din chuckle. “Why are you polishing your armor in the middle of the night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just... thinking.”

You lean against one of the chair’s arms, tucking some hair behind your ears. “What were you thinking about?”

Din let out a small sigh and you furrowed your brows. Something was going on. He placed his armor on the floor besides him, looking back up to you. “What do you want from life?”

You tilted your head back, a little shocked by Din’s question. “What do you mean?”

“When you imagine your life in the future, what do you want?”

That was a heavy question. Once, long before the worlds cruel hands had twisted your life, you had hoped for a rather normal future. You could of seen yourself working on Jakku, taking over your father’s business. Maybe even settling down one day and having a kid or two. It was very domestic and probably boring, but it was calm and docile. So wildly different from the life you had been given so far.

But now life was so different. For the longest time, you didn’t think about your future. You just focused on getting through the day. Life was hard enough and plaguing yourself with thoughts of what could of been felt like a cruel joke. Now it was different, though. You found yourself hoping, yearning for some kind of future. And in every version of it, you found yourself incorporating Din somehow. Today you had done that very thing. Laying in that field with Din and the kid, no worries or concerns, made you think. It would be nice to live on a planet like this, where you didn’t have to worry about anybody or anything. Just you, the kid, and Din.

But that kind of thought was embarrassing to admit out loud. Because while you could confidently say that you and Din were friends, in the end you had been hired to take care of the ship and the kid. And you guys never put a timeline on you job, but you knew it would come to an end one day. Whether that was cause the kid was older or Din didn’t need you anymore or maybe Din found something else, something you didn’t fit into.

“I don’t really know. One day I want to just... settle down, I guess. Not always be so worried.” You shrugged at your answer. It was true, but you let out a lot. “What about you?”

“I never really thought about it before. But now... with the kid and you, it’s hard not to.”

You quirked your head at the answer. You knew the kid had to be part of the reason why Din was thinking about this, but he also mentioned you. Did that mean that in his future he saw you? Or was he just thinking of how one day you’d be gone? “What do you mean?”

“I just want to do right by you guys. You two deserve to be happy and safe.”

“We are happy and safe.”

“This isn’t the life you two deserve. You deserve normalcy and-”

“Din, stop.” You saw the man lean back against his chair, exasperated. “You have changed my life for the better. And the kids. We were both in such dark places before you came along. So don’t belittle what you’ve done for us.”

“Yeah. But I can’t even get the kid to where he belongs.”

You pause at that. To where he belongs? What the kriff did that mean? He belonged with Din, his father, and you. He was safe here. “What?”

Din turned his helmet towards you and let out a loud sigh. “Dank farrik.”

You looked up at him as he rose from his seat, putting his hands on his helmet like he was cradling his head. “What is it, Din?”

Din let his hands drop, looking over at you. “I haven’t told you something.”

Your heart stopped. This wasn’t good, at all. You could sense it in Din’s demeanor and his tone. “What is going on?”

“The kid... doesn’t belong with me. His powers are too much for me. I can’t help him. He needs someone who knows how to train him.” You knew where this was going before Din even finishes and you feel your stomach drop. “I was quested to find a Jedi who can take him in.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, your head dropping to look down into your lap. You couldn’t look at Din right now. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice was shaking, tears pricking at your eyes.

“I got lost in this, in you. It’s been so nice, like life is normal.” You knew exactly what he was talking about because you had felt it almost every day. And you should of known it was too good to be true. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika.”

You felt his hands try to reach out for you and you pushed them away, finally looking up at him and feeling tears rush down. “Don’t.” You stood from your seat. “Don’t cyar’ika me. You should have told me.”

He should of. He knew how much you had lost. He knew your family had been ripped away from you and how hard it was for you to move on. And then he gave you a family. The kid and him were your new family. And you had dumbly let yourself fantasize about the future of your family. Of raising the kid with Din and maybe one day your relationship with Din would move further. You had let yourself do that, all without knowing that this family would be taken away from you too. And you were supposed to let it happen.

What Din was saying made sense. You knew the kid was powerful. You could feel it before you were made witness to his abilities. You knew it was why people wanted him, so they could exploit it. You thought that was the extent of it though. You didn’t think about how the kid would need training. You had let yourself get too caught up in your feelings and in your love for him to see past it, towards the kids future.

“I know.”

“You kept that from me. You let me join you guys without warning me. You gave me a family... a family that’s got an expiration date on it.”

“What?”

“I have lost all my family, Din. I can’t do that again. You’ll find a Jedi and then the kid will be gone. And then I’ll be gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

You threw your hands up. “Din, the only reason I’m here is because the kid. Hell, the kid is the only reason you brought me on. Without him, you would of left me because you didn’t want me.” You feel your voice crack with the last sentence. You were distraught and angry and these emotions were wrecking havoc on you.

“That’s not true. All I want is-”

“No, it is.” You interrupted. “If the kid hadn’t liked me and wanted me to come, I wouldn’t have. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone.”

A silence fell over the cockpit, a tension so palpable that you swore you could cut into it. You hated this. You hated what you were feeling and you hated arguing with Din and you hated that you knew you were going to lose him. Part of you wished you were still naive, that you could of been allowed to think your silly little thoughts about family.

“I don’t want you to go. Please.”

You winced at the way Din spoke. It was raw and you swore you could feel the pain. But you just turned away. “I can’t do this again.”

“I lost my family too. I understand this.”

And maybe that was true. But you don’t think he would ever understand the guilt settling into the pit of your stomach. The kid needed a Jedi, someone who understood the Force and could train him. He needed a master, someone so exceptional because the kid’s connection with the Force was strong, making his powers even stronger.

You were once trained. Your grandmother had shown you how to use the Force, how to be one with it and allow it to flow within you. But that night, when you had lost your family and used your abilities to kill... it wasn’t the same. You no longer felt a healthy respect for the Force and felt wonder at the way you were able to use it. All you felt was fear of what you could become. So you abandoned it, tried your best to forget all of your training and vowed to never use it. A vow you had now kept for years. Now all your training might as well had been reversed. Even if you wanted to use it, you couldn’t train the kid. It took years for your grandmother to train you and in order to even begin to think about training the kid, you would need to retrain yourself, which you didn’t even think was possible. And even it was possible, the child was too powerful for you. You’d never be able to help him like a true Jedi Master would be able to.

And you felt at fault for that. If you were a better Jedi, a better teacher, a better person, you’d be able to do it. And you’d be able to keep the kid with you and Din. You wouldn’t have to hand him off to someone you didn’t know.

“You don’t understand.” You croaked out, wiping away all the tears.

“Then tell me what I don’t understand.”

You remembered your mother’s words. Her preaching to you over and over again to never tell anyone what you were. You remembered your Grandmother ranting about the distain between Jedis and Mandalorians and how if a Mandalorian learned what you were, they’d hate you. And you could of seen Din looking past that, not being biased. But now if he learned what you were and how you couldn’t train the child and keep his kid with him, he’d hate you. And you wouldn’t blame him. So you couldn’t ever tell Din, could never reveal that part of yourself to him. You’d have to keep it hidden like you’d done your whole life.

“I need to be alone.” You turned to the ladder, slipping down it without giving Din a chance to stop you. You marched over to where the kid slept, opening the door and finding him peacefully asleep, huddled with a blanket in his hammock. He was blissfully unaware of the way you were failing him and of the turmoil going on in your mind. You felt more tears fall down, your hand reaching out to grab his little hand.

You had gotten too close to him and Din. But you knew if you stayed, you’d only get closer. The child needed help. And Din was so intoxicating. You couldn’t distance yourself from either of them.

Unless you left.

_________________________________

Din found her sitting in the same field of flowers from yesterday, hugging her knees to her chest and staring into the sunrise. It was early morning and there was a crispness to the cool morning air. Even with the helmet on, Din could smell the sweetness of the flora. If the situation were different, Din would love to sit out here with her like they had done last night. But things were hard right now.

He hadn’t slept at all. He had just sat in the cockpit, staring out the window and reflecting on just how badly he had messed up. He knew he messed up, really bad. He knew it when he realized he had never told her about his quest. But he didn’t think he truly understood just how much it would have impacted her until she looked at him with those eyes. They were so full of hurt and betrayal, and Din hated that he was the one to cause it. That was when Din realized how much deeper this went for her. And he knew there was something she hadn’t told him. Something that was eating away at her, at his cyar’ika. And he wanted to know what it was so badly, but he also wanted to respect her boundaries like she had done for him time and time again.

Din stepped towards her, lowering himself down to sit besides her. She didn’t turn to look at him, her steady gaze remaining on the array of colors illuminating the sky as the sun rose.

“I’m sorry.” Din’s heart broke at the apology she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. She had nothing to be sorry about. Everything that had happened was his fault. He should of told her about the kid as soon as he agreed to let her on and especially once they started getting so close.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Din sighed, laying his hands down on each side of his body, clutching onto the ground like it was an anchor. “I should of told you.”

She nodded her head, finally looking over at him. He could see the fatigue on her face but in this light, she still looked so beautiful. It shocked Din how someone could so consistently take his breath away. “I understand it is hard for you too.”

That was definitely true. Din hadn’t had a family in so long. And now that he did, he was so scared of losing it but it also felt like a definitive. The kid had to be trained and it tore away at Din, but he couldn’t do it. The child needed someone who knew how to help him and Din knew it should be sooner rather than later. Perhaps that was why he never referred to the kid as his son and always kept this small barrier up. Because Din knew if he fully let the kid into his heart, he would break once he had to let him go. And perhaps that was the pain every parent had to endure but he couldn’t accept it. He had already lost too much.

And her words still echoed in his mind. Which means as soon as he is gone, my job here is done and I’m gone. Is that what she wanted? Or did she truly not realize how much he cared for her? Because Din heard that and felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Unlike the child, Din allowed himself to get closer to her than any other person in the galaxy. Perhaps it was naive, but he thought once the kid was gone, he would still have her. That she would want to stay with him. That she would be by his side in whatever came next. “Sweet one.”

She closed her eyes for a minute at the nickname and Din brought a gloved hand up to her face, just barely brushing her cheek but he felt her lean into it. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and tell her just how much he cared for her. “Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and he felt himself choke up as she opened her eyes, looking straight at him. “I can’t lose you, cyar’ika.”

Her eyes softened and she nodded slowly. “I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t. Even when the child is gone... you can stay. I want you to stay.”

“Yeah?”

Din’s heart clench at her need for reassurance. He hadn’t even realized how reliant he was on her until the thought of her leaving scared him to death. He swore he needed her more than he needed air. “Yes.”

She reached her hand up, holding onto the one that touched her face. Din brought it away from her, feeling her twist her fingers within his. “Okay.”

Din let out a deep breathe, feeling whole again as she leaned her forehead against his helmet. She closed her eyes and Din brought his other hand to hers, linking his fingers with hers so both of his hands were full. This is where he belonged: with her. Wherever she was was his home.

He felt the words on the tip of his tongue. But those three words had the power to change so much and he had already felt like he was so close to losing her. He couldn’t risk it.

Perhaps another time, he could tell her how much he loved her.

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow @fangirlalexia

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine

194 notes · View notes

overwhore-s · 4 years

Text

A Freak in a Sheet (Ghost!Bakugou x Reader) part 2 NSFW

part 1

AO3

There are more advantages to living in a haunted house than just cheap rent.

Warnings: swearing, sex (gender-neutral reader)

It was a shit day if you’ve ever had one, and at the end of it, you just want to curl up on the couch and binge the fuck out of Keeping up with the Kardashians. Kicking off your shoes, you call out to Bakugou.

“You wanna see what Kim’s been up to?”

“Fuck yeah I do!” He answers from the living room. You grin. You are extremely lucky to live with someone who shares your passion for cheesy reality television.

When you walk into the room, he’s already waiting for you, TV remote in hand. “You look like shit,” he observes upon seeing you. You don’t take it personally though, knowing it’s his own unique way of encouraging you to open up about what’s been troubling you.

You stifle a yawn and plop down next to him. “Tough day. Customers were acting entitled as usual. And I forgot my wallet at home, so I didn’t have enough money for lunch. Or dinner.” Honestly, worse things have happened to you. It won’t be the first, nor the last day you went without eating.

Bakugou doesn’t see it that way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yells, jumping up from the couch, surprising you. “You can’t be skipping meals!”

“It’s okay dude, I can just order takeout or something,” you try to calm him down, but Bakugou is bit like a really spitty cat when he’s angry – the more you try to soothe him with words, the more aggressive he becomes.

“No pizza for you today. No fucking way. We’re gonna cook you a real ass dinner with real ingredients,” he huffs, already on his way to the kitchen. Confused, you trail after him.

The concentrated manner in which he gathers all his supplies tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He definitely has a presence in the kitchen, like some Michelin chef. And his chopping technique! You’ve never seen anyone chop onions that fast.

“Whoa,” you say, feeling kinda awkward just standing around and letting him do all the work, “you’re really good at this.”

His cheeks redden, his hand holding the knife slowing down momentarily. “So what If I am?!”

“Man, you really need to learn how to take a compliment,” you chuckle, “what are we making, by the way?”

“Fried rice. So make yourself useful and grab me a pan and a bag of rice, would you?”

“Roger.”

You work well together, you think. While he takes care of chopping and cutting the vegetables, you heat olive oil on medium heat, waiting for that tell-tale sizzle. You soon catch yourself humming some tune you heard on the radio at work, hips swaying as you stir the vegetables, rice and meat Bakugou put in the skillet. You giggle as he makes you surrender the frying pan so that he can toss the rice, and subsequently you marvel at how expertly he’s doing it. It’s been a while since you last cooked. You almost forgot how fun it is – even more so in good company.

“A shame we don’t have cashew nuts,” said companion murmurs, frowning at the contents of the pan after they’ve been tossed and fried and spiced to his liking. He looks at it almost longingly; you can’t help but notice. Ghosts can’t smell or taste anything. Bakugou told you he feels things, like pressure or texture to a certain level, but only if he concentrates.

“Ah, well, this is a low-budget kitchen,” you wave your hand in dismissal, eager to lighten up the mood. “Never mind though! It smells absolutely delicious!” And it looks absolutely gorgeous, but you don’t say that aloud, fearing his ego might explode.

“You should taste it before serving, just to be sure,” he suggests, already bringing a spoon to your lips. You hesitate for a second, suddenly hyperaware of all the sounds, smells and sights in the kitchen. The oil sizzling. The sweet smell of spices and fried onion. Bakugou, staring at you expectantly with an undecipherable expression on his stupidly attractive face as you part your lips and slowly, tentatively lick the spoon.

He shouldn’t have need for oxygen, but his breath hitches all the same.

“So, how is it?” He asks, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“Delicious,” you answer, but in truth, it’s not the food you’ve been paying attention to.

He positively glows in the kitchen lights. Like some otherworldly, ethereal being, and in a way, he is one. You look at him and have to fight the impulse to touch, hold, never let go.

“That’s all?” He questions further, with that adorable frown of his.

And his lips. They look soft. If you were to kiss him, right now, right there next to the stove under the lights and in your silly little apron, would he reciprocate it?

Stop it. You’re being disgusting. He’d probably, no, certainly think so, and push you away and never talk to you again.

“Why don’t you taste it as well?” You blurt out, realizing your error far too late. The spoon has already been pushed to his mouth, conveniently open as he was about to say something – most likely tell you to get fucked – and then he swallows and his eyes widen like he’s discovered something amazing.

“You…” You start to say, only to get immediately cut off by him.

“How in hell is this possible?!” He shouts, but not angrily, more like he can’t hide his excitement. “I…could taste it. The onions. The carrots. The…the fucking chili.” He brings the spoon to his mouth one more time and here it is again – that glint in his eyes. To the evident surprise of both you and him, he laughs, a rich, beautiful sound you’ll never get sick of.

Happy Bakugou is a foreign concept, but you like it very much.

“You kidding me?!” You exclaim. “That’s excellent news! Does that mean your sense of smell is back as well?”

He sniffs the air before grinning widely. “It wasn’t there just a few minutes ago, but now there’s no mistaking it. That’s some good fucking fried rice we made, all right.”

We made. You and Bakugou, together. And for some reason he can feel like a human now? You can only speculate why that happened, but maybe your grandma would know? She’s the one who introduced you to the world of the not-living, after all. You have to ask her, gosh, she’s going to be angry with you for not giving her a call in so long – but first, first you have to hug Bakugou.

And so you do. You squeeze him for all you are worth and he responds in kind, arms wrapping around your back to press you even further into his firm chest. As always, he’s slightly cold to the touch, but warms up quickly enough.

The hug lasts for ages, and as much as you wish to fall asleep like this, the food must be getting cold. You wonder if he can eat it with you – it’s not too much to hope for, is it?! – but when you attempt to wriggle free from the embrace, he grunts and presses you against him even tighter. And that’s when you notice, when you feel it, the unmistakable hardness poking you in the lower belly.

Oh. So that works too.

This is impossible, and flattering, and far too tempting to not comment on.

“All that just from a hug?” You tease, as if you yourself weren’t practically dripping just from him spoon-feeding you.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Well, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You kiss him like your life depends on it. He appreciates the intensity of it, judging by the groan escaping from low in his throat, the way his hands drop from your sides to knead at your ass. He slides his tongue into your mouth, rubbing it against yours. You’re only kissing and your head is spinning already.

He nibbles at your lower lip before releasing it and looking you straight in the eye. “You want more?” He asks, urgently.

Incapable of responding verbally, you only nod.

He gives your ass one last playful squeeze before lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, the fried rice all but forgotten as you dive in for another heated kiss. Bakugou, you find, is a very hands-on kind of lover. His calloused palms venture under your shirt, exploring your smooth flesh and curves with unhidden curiosity.

“So soft,” he informs you in between kisses, making you blush even more if that’s even possible, “and you smell nice.”

You disagree, seeing as you’re in a sore need of a shower after the long day you had, but you’re not about to argue with a man who has his tongue in your mouth.

He lifts the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head, chuckling when you get trapped, and gasping when you free yourself and grind against his still clothed cock in revenge.

It soon becomes painfully clear the kitchen won’t survive you fucking in it once you knock over the bottle of chili and it spills on the ground, creating an ominous red pool.

“Bed?” You say, breathlessly, and he agrees. “Bed.”

You stumble into the bedroom as in a drunken haze, and while you remember him undressing you on your way to the bed, him becoming suddenly naked was not your doing. Well, he is a ghost. You can’t exactly say you’re bothered by it, as it saved you significant time and trouble.

“Before we do this,” you whimper as he lavishes your neck and chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses, “I need t-to tell you…”

He slides further down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing what he’s about to do. “B-Bakugou…”

“You can tell me later. Just relax now,” he purrs, his hands spreading your legs further apart. You close your eyes and press the side of your face into your pillow.

The very first touch of his tongue to your overheated sex is enough to send your mind reeling. You whine, wanting more pressure, but he keeps you in place, keeps teasing you with short little licks and bites to your inner thighs. It’s infuriating. Every time he brings you close to the edge, he purposefully slows down, robbing you of your release. It’s hardly fair; he hasn’t so much as felt anything in years, you’ve only gone without sex for months, so how does he find himself with so much more patience than you?

“I think you’re ready for it now,” he notes, finally reappearing from between your legs.

“I have been forever now, thanks for noticing,” you roll your eyes.

He narrows his eyes at you. “If you don’t like it…”

“Never said I don’t! Shit…look…j-just do it already, okay?!” You bite your lip, looking at him pleadingly without actually saying please. You’ll save begging for later. Something’s telling you you’ll need it.

Bakugou’s expression is that of concentration as he aligns himself with your entrance. “Say if it hurts.”

It doesn’t. You thought it would be cold too, but he’s just as warm as a real man. He is a real man, you remind yourself. He certainly takes you like one, all hard thrusts and savage grunts as he chases his, and your release.

And God fucking damn it, he’s beautiful. Illuminated by moonlight, shining with sweat – yours? Do ghosts even sweat? – producing all those sounds that are pure music to your ears. You run your fingers through his spiky, soft blonde hair, scratch his scalp and have him reward you with a particularly deep thrust. It’s usually awkward with new lovers, not knowing what they prefer, having to learn it the hard way, but with Bakugou, you fuck like you were made for each other.

This round – because you know there will be more – looks like it’s going to be a short one. You’re too overstimulated from his earlier ministrations and Bakugou, well, he isn’t exactly pacing it out with how fast he slides in and out of you.

In the last few seconds, as need for release overdrives all his senses, he grabs onto your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave bruises, and buries himself into you for one last time before coming with a shudder. You’re close behind, burying your face into his shoulder while babbling incoherently. You don’t believe you ever came this hard. Your ears are ringing, heart beating fast like a hummingbird’s.

“What?” He asks, petting your hair comfortingly as you try to catch your breath. He sounds fine, if not a little dazed. His chest does not heave with uneven breaths, nor is he all red and sweaty in the face. And, the wetness sticking to your inner thighs is all your own.

“You wanted to say something, before,” he murmurs, as you begin to calm down, “so what was it?”

You meet his eyes with your own, finally. You must look like a mess, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Instead he stares at you like you’re the only thing on Earth he doesn’t hate, and the feeling’s mutual.

“I love you, you asshole,” you sob.

“I love you too idiot. So whatcha crying for?” He frowns, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. You lean into his touch, drawing a sharp breath before answering.

“I’m just so damn happy.” And you are. Really. You’ve spent years believing there wasn’t a person alive who could possibly love you in a way that you deserved, and turns out you were right.

You lie there for a while, limbs intertwined, dreaming up a wonderful future together, until you’re propelled to sit up by a terrible thought. “The food!”

“Shh. You can still microwave the shit.”

“But it won’t taste as good! I don’t wanna let your good food go to waste…”

“Hey.” He pulls you back into the bed just as you were going to leave it. “I can bring it to you. Get some rest, pipsqueak.”

Fried rice in bed?! The man wants to spoil you.

And you don’t mind in the least.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #if you are reading this i am sorry mom

375 notes · View notes

revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years

Text

Red Flags

Warnings: Serial killers, breaking and entering, torture, manipulation and broken bones AN: Huge thank you to @9layerdevilfoodcake and the lovely Carissa for bouncing some ideas and beta reading this while I was struggling!

AO3

Michael had enough. He was tired and hungry, getting nothing more than delirious in this forest. He stood on shaky legs, not caring about the blood of the goat he just killed. He didn’t know where he was going, just letting his feet carry him to wherever they pleased. He no longer cared about the destination. His surroundings faded into nothingness, until a familiar white-picket fence came into view. He finally focused on his surroundings, immediately starting to sob when he recognised where he was. His childhood home, his grandmother’s house. His body must have craved the familiarity and the warm embrace that only she could provide. But like every other mother figure in his life, she was dead, and he blamed himself. With bleary eyes he pushed open the squeaky gate. The smell of roses made the memories rapidly flash through his mind. With a deep breath, he opened the door.

The house had been untouched for years. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. He thought of his grandmother watching the house fall into this state of decay. Watching.

He felt the eyes of the house next door on him. He refused to look out the window. He didn’t want to see the looks of disgust and pity. He wiped his eyes and stood a little straighter. This was his house now. He could do whatever he wanted here. No one to answer to, no more deadlines and most of all, no more older blonde woman dictating his life. ////

He stared at himself in the mirror. The stubble and lack of sleep seemed to age him. His hair was no longer perfectly styled, it was wild and uneven. The more he looked at himself the more his face began to morph into the women in his life. He hated it. He didn’t want to look like the woman that threw him out at his lowest. Or the woman who, even in her death, could not accept him as hers. He carried the ghosts of next door with him, and he’d do anything to alleviate himself of that burden. He could only change his appearance for so long. Hair dye would eventually fade; contacts would need to be removed and he wasn’t willing to put himself under the knife.

The smell of blood on his clothes pulled him out of his thoughts. The mirror reflected the decrepit house he was in, turning his nose in disgust. With the last of his strength, he mustered a tiny bit of magic, using a spell to clean the house. He walked through the house as it returned to it’s former glory, remembering his own attempts at interior design when he was younger, looking up the beams and archways where he would nail his ‘gifts’ to his grandmother. Times were simpler then. He shook his head of the nostalgia, hoping the plumbing was still working; he needed a nice hot shower.

//// None of the clothes in the closet fit him anymore, he didn’t realise how much he had grown. For now, a towel was the best he could do until his other clothes were out the dryer. He spent his time scouring the house for legal documents, anything that entitled him to some money and the deeds of the house. He needed to get this all under his name, just in case his grandmother used that stupid medium to undermine him. He tugged open the last drawer. Bingo. Everything he needed conveniently placed in one place. Money, a will and the deeds of the house. He would need to go to whatever legal office to get it sorted. The dryer still had time to go. With a big sigh, he sat on the couch. The one that faced the ‘other’ house. He gave a smile to those still watching him. He must have looked demented by the reactions he got from them. The exhaustion and hunger were catching up to him, succumbing to sleep on the couch.

////

It was morning when he woke up. He let his towel fall with a big stretch. Thus was his house; he could do anything. Even walking around naked. He kept the blinds and curtains that faced that house open. Let them watch. He pulled his warm clothes on. The detergent brought back memories, he’d buy a new scent when the time came. He grabbed some cash and whatever documents he needed for the day, venturing out into the big bad world.

////

Humanity deserved to perish simply for the time it took at the bank. The manger was an old lady, greying blonde hair and a pair of ill-fitting glasses. Michael thought she was extremely rude and didn’t hide his distaste when he spoke to her. She asked far too many questions for such a simple procedure. “Young man, aren’t you far too young to be accessing these funds?” she asked, looking over her glasses. “I can’t control when my entire family dies now can I,” he spat back, sick of her already. She continued to look him up and down as she typed away. Printing something off, she slipped a booklet of paperwork to him. “Everything has been approved, your card should arrive in the next few days. Can I do anything else for you?” “I’d like to take out some cash.” “How much?” “$500.” She paused, “what are you planning on doing with that?” Michael was getting beyond irritated, his jaw clenched, and he rubbed his temples. “There’s no need to be so rude young man,” she huffed. Michael gave her a sarcastic smile before snatching the money and walking out of the bank. The world would be better off without her. He’d deal with her soon. ////

Michael returned home with numerous bags of clothing and food. He would learn how to cook for himself, takeout was not sustainable. The pantry was stocked with basic essentials, but most of it was stocked with candy and other snacks. No one could stop him from indulging in his gluttony now.

His wardrobe was full of blacks and reds, the perfect colours for him. He was most looking forward to the black jumpsuit. It stood out to him in the store, a style he had never tried before. His fingers drifted over the seams when he tried it on, turning and admiring the various angles in the mirror. He looked up to the clock through the mirror, it was almost 5pm, if he didn’t leave now, he would miss her leaving. ////

Michael waited for the old bank manager to leave. Biding his time in the shadows. He watched her as she said her goodbyes in her shrill voice, then as she walked to her car. Michael stalked behind her, waiting for her to get in. As she got comfortable, she dropped something by her foot pedals. When she reached down to grab it, Michael took the opportunity to get in the car and lock the doors. He smiled at her when she screamed. The parking lot was empty, no one would hear her. “Shhh,” Michael put a finger to his lips, the other hand held up a gun. It was one of Constance’s that she had hidden in the house. The woman suddenly stopped, her shaking hands on the wheel. “You’re going to drive, and I’m going to give you directions,” he said, his tone left no space to argue. She nodded, tears in her eyes, hoping he would let her go eventually.

////

They pulled up outside the murder house. Michael got out first, taking the keys from the ignition. The woman stayed in the car, still shaking. She wasn’t given much time to think, Michael dragged her out of the car and up the steps, his hand over her mouth. Her legs flailed around, heels falling off and feet dragging on the ground. Sill, Michael paid her no mind, not even as she thumped down the stairs when he threw her into the basement.

He felt eyes on him again as he went into the kitchen, looking for something sharp. When he got to the basement door, it was blocked by none other than Dr. Harmon himself. “You don’t have to do this kind, you know you’re better than this,” he tried to convince Michael. “You didn’t have to cheat on your wife, now here we all are, miserable in the same fucking house,” Michael spat back. “He didn’t give Harmon a chance to respond, teleporting into the basement where the woman cowered in the corner.

“Please, I’m sorry if I did something, there’s other ways to solve this,” she cried. “I need to get home to my grandkids,” she tried to appeal to his softer side. He continued to stalk towards her, ignoring her and inspecting the sharp knife. “You’re far too old to still be this rude. I think that it’s a habit that can’t be solved anymore,” Michael replied, sounding disappointed. The woman couldn’t back away any further, stuck to the wall. Michael got down to her level, wiping away her tears. “You have grandkids?” She rapidly nodded, hoping he changed his mind. “I had a grandma too. Looked just like you,” he took a blonde hair and sniffed it, it didn’t smell like her. “At least she had basic manners. And, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this hideous number,” he pointed out. He had to give Constance credit where it was due. “Do you want to know what happened to my grandma?” he whispered in her ear. She was too shaky to respond. “I killed her too,” he whispered again, this time his voice cracked a little; remembering the day he found her dead in this very house. Even if she was a ghost, she could have at least spared him a hug. His eyes began to well up. The woman took this as an opportunity to reach out, placing her hand on her face. He snapped back to her, taking her hand in his. “But no one can ever replace her,” his voice still shaking. He felt like a little boy again. He could feel the pity from the woman. She wasn’t scared of him anymore and he didn’t like that. He was no longer a child. He had a greater purpose. Without hesitation, Michael sliced her throat, letting himself be covered in her blood. He looked at his reflection in the knife. Maybe this was the look for him, covered in blood. He licked his fingers, tasting the liquid. “I’ll save the heart for later,” he thought to himself, before ripping it out and making use of one of the fridges. This was one way to pass the time and maybe, it would finally get his father’s attention. //// A car was found on a random highway. In it was the mangled corpse of the owner, and a simple letter signed by ‘the Alpha’. This marked the beginning of a new wave of violence in southern California. A serial killer was on the prowl. The victim profile was quite strange. Typically, killers would choose young women. However, this killer liked older blonde women, usually grandmothers or mothers. It scared you regardless, worried that one day the preference might change. You worried for your co-workers too, many of them fitting the description. The thought that you might have even interacted with the culprit made your skin crawl. ////

Things would inevitably go wrong if one were fuelled by bloodlust alone. Michael had broken into the wrong house. The woman that pissed him off at the supermarket lived a few doors down. Regardless, he was curious as to who lived here. The home was so different to what he was used to. The interior design choices were not the standard ‘live, laugh, love’ and farmhouse kitchen with seashell bathrooms. This house was nice, it had a younger feel to it, the heels by the door further proof of his theory. He quietly made his way up the stairs, looking into every room and taking it all in. He finally found the occupied room. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep in her bed. Comfortably sank into her pillows. He adjusted the blinds a little so he could see better. The way the moonlight reflected off her face took his breath away. His fingers twitched, he wanted to take her home this instant. He could take care of her, he knew he could. He liked a challenge however, he wanted her to come to him. He didn’t know how long he stood and stared at her, only leaving once she stared to stir. He’d be back. ////

Michael’s heart was jumping out of his chest when he arrived back to the murder house. The residents were surprised he didn’t come home with another victim or even a drop of blood on him. His face was flush and he was in deep thought. Luckily for the residents, souls were not congesting the house, as Michael would make sure to burn the new souls as soon as he could. He whispered nonsense to himself as he made his way up to the attic. His trance was interrupted by his foot hitting a box. Had it always been there? He slowly took the lid off, finding an old camcorder and lots of tape. Was he living in the movie ‘sinister’? He was the scariest thing in this house, no ghoul could ever top him.

The box gave him something to do for the rest of the night. Returning with some snacks and in his pyjamas. The entertainment didn’t last long. It was just shitty home movies from former residents. It got worse when they’d come forward and explain them. He turned his face in disgust at the last one; a homemade sex tape. He gagged before turning it off. The sun was rising, telling him to go to bed. As he put the camcorder way, he had a genius idea.

////

You felt weird when you woke up. It was as if someone had been watching you. Your blinds were slightly open, and your bedroom door ajar. Had someone been in? As you walked through the house, something just seemed a little off. Things were ever so slightly out of place. There even seemed to be less fruit juice this morning than you were sure you had last night. Maybe it was the paranoia of the current situation getting to you. You sighed and shook your head before going to get ready for the day.

////

You hated working in the family and wills sector of the legal profession. You were hoping to make the move to fashion law soon, just waiting for the right opportunity. You really weren’t made for the requests of dead people and their bickering relatives.

You greeted one of the partners. Ms Grace everyone called her. She was your mento and a mother figure to you out here in the big bad legal world. Hopefully, she’d give you a good reference when you left. “New client for you today, just… entire dead family,” she whispered the last bit, making a cutting gesture with her hand. “That sounds horrible.” She nodded, before letting you set up for the day. ////

It was afternoon before said client showed up. Your office phone rang informing you of his arrival. A tall, blond man sat in the waiting room; his eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. You decided to ignore it. “Hello, are you Mr. Langdon?” “I am.” “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, in Y/N and I’ll be taking your case,” you held your hand out for him to shake. It was comfortably warm. “Please, call me Michael.” You nodded and smiled, before leading him to your office. “Any refreshments before we get started?” He shook his head. From the outside, his case looked simple However, the deaths in his family left a convoluted mess, but you were sure Mr Langdon would get what he wanted. He was the only legal and living heir after all. You chatted away as you printed off and filled out the relevant forms. The conversation came easy. It had been a while since someone had caused butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t unprofessional however, keeping it professional with clients. When all was done for the session, you saw him out and waved him off. The interaction with him had left you a little flush. The receptionist giving you a knowing look.

////

This was totally unplanned. Michael wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. He thought that maybe his father had a hand in this, a reward for his hard work. He made his way back home, keeping the packet you gave him close, it still faintly smelled of you. He sat on the couch facing the other house. Images of you occupying his mind. It all got too much, lazily stroking himself to the thought of you that afternoon. ////

He left the house again, camcorder in hand. He pressed record as soon as he got inside your house. Filming every little detail leading up to your room. Even filming himself waving in the hallway mirror, as if he were recording and innocent home video.

He slowly opened your door. You accidently left the lamp on that night, giving him the perfect lighting. He zoomed in on your face before getting closer. Your duvet was blocking the view, reaching forward to carefully move it a little. Running his thumb over your lips and getting it on camera. He groaned at the softness. His fingers skimmed over your face, neck and collarbones. He watched as your nose crinkled a little at the touch. Cute. His evening plans were abruptly cut short when your phone began to ring. At this hour? Who was it? You began to stir at the invasive sound. Michael didn’t have time to run, transmuting out the house as fast as he could.

////

In his free time, Michael indulged in all that his family would disapprove of. And nothing could vex Constance Langdon more than her shitty grandson doing all types of drugs. He liked the feeling weed gave him. It helped him relax after the adrenaline rush of a kill. Sometimes, the murder house had a horrible stench of weed and rotting flesh, prompting the residents to keep the windows open. He even tried other things, like Acid and MD. He didn’t like the restlessness they gave him. He especially hated when his face would morph in the mirror, turning him into the people he hated the most. He wondered what it would be like to get high with you. He wanted to melt into you just like he did the floor when the THC finally got him. If he couldn’t get to you that night, he would replay the tapes on the big screen and jack off, wishing you were there. The residents of the house watched in disgust and horror. They may have done terrible things but surely, they weren’t this bad.

////

Mr Langdon’s case had successfully ended, he had gotten what he wanted. You bumped into him a week later, on your lunch break. “Oh? Y/N? so nice to see you,” he stood in the line at your favourite coffee shop. “Like wise,” you smiled up at him. “Would you like anything? I insist. It’s the least I can do.” You tried to reject his kindness but didn’t want to hold up the line, giving him your order. You both sat at a quiet table, waiting for your drinks and pastry. “I don’t usually see my clients on lunch breaks.” “Former client,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. You watched him add five packets of sugar and wondered why he didn’t just get a sweeter drink. Your conversation continued, with your shoes constantly touching under the table. It felt very childish, but maybe you were missing the playfulness in life. Your phone alarm went off, indicating you had to get back to work. As your phone was unlocked, Michael took it and tapped his number in, leaving you at the table with a wink.

////

These interactions led to casual dates. The murders began to slow down, making you feel a little safer. With this in mind, you accepted Michael’s invitation when he invited you over. You were nervous as you waited for him to open the door. The evening breeze did little to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Michael opened the door and you sighed in relief. “You look… beautiful,” he stuttered. “Not too bad yourself,” you smiled back.

He moved aside to let you in, leading you to where he had set up. “I didn’t know you could cook.” “I’m a man of many talents.” He looked out the window, making sure the other house was watching. They looked nervous, hoping you would leave in one piece. They watched you laugh and talk. This could not have been the same boy that had terrorised so many. He was confident, suave, and personable. Worlds away from the awkward, nervous cry baby of a serial killer that they had become used to. He cleaned up well, even tidying up his wild hair. They wondered how long it would last. How long would it take for you to see the real him? They hoped you got out before it got to that state. The time flew by, and you both seemed to get closer by the second. You didn’t notice until your noses were touching, conversation halting. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost hesitant. You took the initiative and captured his lips. All of his hesitation melted away, his hand reaching around you and pulling you closer. The kiss got more heated, indicating that it would lead to something else. However, luck was not on your side. You phone ringing and interrupting you. Michael wanted to smash that phone; this was the second time it had stopped him. You apologised before picking up. Michael watched your expression change and brows knit in annoyance. You put the phone down, apologising. “I’m so sorry Michael, but I’m going to have to go, I’ve been called into work tomorrow and this is an important client, I hope you can understand.” “Of course, I’m sure you’re busy and I won’t keep you. Do you want me to drop you off?” He didn’t know why he asked that question, he didn’t have a car. “Oh thank you so much for understanding, and the offer. I drove here myself so there’s no need to worry about that,” you smiled at him. Michael helped you with your belongings, leading you out the door. You turned to thank him again, before he leaned down to give you another kiss, causing you to blush. He walked you to your car, taking in the interior. He waved you off with a smile. He knew you’d be back soon. ////

Michael shut the door behind him. He thought the night was a success. He opened the cupboard and pulled out your jacket. He hid it away, so you’d forget about it. The designer logo stood out to him. He buried his face in the fur, taking in all of it. Your scent, your warmth, everything. He had been so close to you. He wanted to watch the tapes with this in hand, for that he would have to venture next door. He wasn’t prepared to finally come face to face with his grandmother, looking down on him, cigarette in hand. “Michael fucking Langdon,” her southern drawl was harsh. He hadn’t been spoken to like that in years. He gulped as he watched her slowly walk down the stairs. “Why haven’t you grown out of that terrible habit of yours. You just have to destroy pretty things.” She stopped at the step just above him, still looking down. She gently stroked his face like she used to when he was a child, and he leaned into the touch. The peace was disturbed by a loud slap echoing through the house. Michael’s face turned to the side. He held his cheek, slowly turning to the woman with bleary eyes. “You have some nerve coming back to this house with that attitude of yours, clearly the ‘Church’ didn’t teach you any manners” Michael was trying to find his voice, to finally face the woman that he blamed for half of his problems. “And now look at you, that poor girl doesn’t even know the half of it.” She snatched the coat away from him. “Look at this Michael, this is Prada. And did you see the car she drove? What makes you think you deserve her? Look at yourself,” she gestured towards him. “Hair unkempt, Jobless, all you eat is candy and human flesh. What are you going to when she finds out the truth?” Michael hadn’t actually thought about that. He had neglected himself and his appearance for a while now. Did it really matter that much?

////

“Look, Y/N, all I’m saying is that you can do better. Look at you, you’re beautiful and well dressed and have such a good job. And him, well… he’s a little scruffy and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a car,” Ms Grace did not approve of your relationship with Michael. She thought you could do better. “I see where you’re coming from but he’s charming. Although I do agree he could clean up a little better. I’ve seen him all dressed up and he looks so good. I just don’t understand why he chooses to look like… that most of the time,” the last bit was more meant for yourself. Your conversation was interrupted by Kevin, a colleague from another office. “He should take a page out of Kevin’s book,” Ms Grace pointed out. Kevin raised a brow at the conversation he had just become a part of. He too was on a lawyer salary, a well-dressed man that anyone would swoon for. “Who’s ‘he’?” “Y/Ns …. Boyfriend?” Ms Grace replied. “Nothing to concern yourself too much with Kevin, you know what Ms Grace is like,” you interjected. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. He must be something to reach those high standards of yours,” he pointed out. “Oh he’s something alright,” Ms Grace muttered. You huffed at the conversation. You didn’t think you were a superficial person, but your colleagues thought otherwise. //// Michael had heard enough. Sometimes he would scry into your workplace, just to check on you, to see if you thought of him as much as he did. The conversation reinforced Constance’s criticisms from the other day. He hadn’t felt this self-conscious in a while. He was not one to idle, immediately finding a hair stylist with an availability. He wanted a transformation that would floor you. With that in mind, he headed to ‘Gallants’. //// The hairstylist was truly annoying, yet he seemed to have magic in his hands. The final reveal shocked Michael also. The confidence he had at Hawthorne seemed to return. He held his head just a little higher as he walked out. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, people stopping to stare at the angelic looking man that strutted down the street. On his way to his next destination, he stopped at the sight of a certain symbol. An inverted cross. His feet had a mind of their own, leading him inside. His scar began to tingle. The congregation turned to stare at the man that had just walked in. They knew. It had to be. The high priestess getting on her knees before him. He could get used to this. //// He reached his final destination for the day. He didn’t usually kill men, but if they got in his way, he didn’t care who he killed. He waited for Kevin to come home. He was going to kill him here. He wasn’t worth the effort of taking him all the way to the murder house. Michael didn’t even give the man a chance to scream. Getting rid of him with a snap of his fingers. //// The murder house watched Michael carefully curate his image the next few months. An entire new wardrobe, his old clothes dumped in the murder house. They watched the elaborate skincare ritual every morning. Carefully peeling away masks and applying serums. How very American Psycho of him. You loved the new look. You made sure everyone in the office new you’d made the right choice. Michael loved the new attention, but he made sure you knew he only had eyes for you. He even planned on offering you a better job in Kineros’ legal team, just so he could keep you close and get you out of the sector you complained about so often. //// A strange thing happened one night. Michael took the camcorder down into the basement with him, setting the lens to record his newest victim. After he was done, he burned the footage onto a disk. What was he up to? //// You were on autopilot as you opened your door. You felt numb. Ms Grace had become another victim to ‘the Alpha’ along with one of your neighbours. You spent the entire day in police interviews, trying to make sense on the situation. As you walked into the house, you stepped on something. A thick envelope, labelled only with your name. You picked it up with shaky hands and opened it. In it was just an unlabelled disc and a sticky note saying ‘love from the Alpha’. It made your blood run cold. This had to be a joke. Some was messing with you; it could be the only explanation. You ran to your DVD player, you had to see what was on the disc, you hoped it was some shitty quality movie ripped from the internet. The video came on, starting in a dark room. The camera turned to a woman tied up, it zoomed in on her face and you immediately recognised her as Ms Grace. Your eyes widened and you felt ill, running to the bathroom to be sick. It was still playing when you came back, changing to a different video. It was dark again but it all seemed so familiar. The camera panned up and you gasped, your hands covering your face. It was a video of you, sleeping in your own home. You no longer felt safe here. You quickly took the disc out and grabbed your essentials, running to your car. As you pulled out your street, you had no idea what turn to take. Turning right would lead to the police station, you could submit the disc and ask for protection. However, they rarely did anything about stalking cases, and the disc had your finger prints all-over it. A left turn would lead to Michael. You felt safe around him and you were sure he could offer you comfort at this time. The beeping behind you made you make your decision. //// You pulled up outside Michael’s house. You rapidly knocked on the door, there was no answer. No light was on in the house. You prayed to whoever that would listen that he didn’t have any other plans for the night. As you lost hope and looked around, your eyes fell to the imposing structure next door. You remembered a conversation where he had said he was restoring the home. A light was on. With a deep breath, you ran up the steps, repeating your previous actions and hoping for a response. A shocked Michael opened the door. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. You didn’t notice the feral look he had going on. Hair dishevelled and blood-stained clothes. He gently put the knife down and wrapped his arms around you, cooing and shushing you. Telling you to calm down and it would all be okay. He was glad you were wearing a dark colour; you hadn’t noticed the stickiness of his hands and the stain they left. He gently moved you into the house, shutting the door. He used his magic to shut the basement door too. Your face was still buried in his arm as he walked you up the stairs. You should have paid attention to your strange surroundings. The ghosts of the house looked at you with the greatest of pity, wishing they could do something.

He sat you down on the bed, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on?” he asked gently, wiping your eyes. You sniffled and calmed your breathing, trying not to freak out again as you explained the situation to him. “I… I think he’s after me,” you whispered. “Who’s ‘he?” “The Alpha, he’s after me, I know it.” Michael paused, you must have seen the DVD. He had to stop himself from laughing. “Why do you think that hmm?” his thumb stroked your cheek. “Three people I know have died and then I got this DVD in the mail,” you paused, “It… it’s a video of Ms Grace tied up and then one of me sleeping,” you began to cry again. Michael sat on the bed next to you, pulling you in for a hug, you buried your face into him again, taking in his scent and trying to calm down. “You’re the only person I feel safe around,” you mumbled. Michael smiled into your hair. He had you exactly where he wanted. ////

You decided to wash your face after you had calmed down. Wetting a towel with cold water, you placed it on your eyes in an attempt to de-puff them. The ghosts thought this was the perfect opportunity to warn you about your possible doom. Vivienne pulled open the shower curtain behind you. Revealing a bathtub full of ice and another victim placed in it. However, their plan didn’t seem to work. You didn’t even look back at the sound, having walked out the bathroom just in-time. Michael was sitting on the bad, waiting for you. He had changed into more casual clothing and was rolling a joint. “It might help you calm down,” he smiled up at you, twisting the end off. You sat back on the bed and joined him, relaxing into the headboard. The conversation was casual and mundane, something you really needed right now. Between the sound of his voice and the passing of the joint, you had no idea how much time had passed. All you knew at this moment was that you wanted to be as close to him as possible. Hands began to wander, and your lips met for a heated kiss, you ended up straddling him. You let yourself be lost in the haze, not knowing exactly when your clothes came off, just that you enjoyed the feel of his skin on yours. You lifted your hips, moving to finally having him inside you, to be as close as you could be. You waited a little, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you got used to his size and took it all in. The feeling of his hands rubbing up and down your spine was blissful. His hands finally rested on your hips, gripping them and encouraging you to finally move. You complied, taking your time. You moved away from his shoulder. He took the opportunity to leave marks all over your breasts. It just felt so good. You could feel that you wouldn’t last much longer, your movements becoming sloppier. Michael rested his hand on your throat, his face morphed into something a lot more vicious than you were used to. It must have rang some alarm bells, but you weren’t listening. His grip on your neck tightened, and his hips began to thrust up, meeting your movements. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his grip tightened once more, causing the coil in your belly to snap. Your legs shook, walls pulsing around him as he followed not long after. He pulled you into a deep kiss by your neck, slowly moving you off him and onto the bed. You lay there catching your breath, staring into his eyes. Just for that brief moment, nothing else mattered, forgetting about the serial killer that was on the hunt somewhere. You got closer to him and got comfortable, your head resting on his chest, being lulled by his heartbeat. “I was thinking,” he started. “Hmm?” you mumbled back, enjoying the vibration of his speech. “Maybe you should take a break from work for a while and stay with me for a bit, just until things calm down,” he suggested. At that moment in time, the combined high of weed and sex made it seem like a genius idea. Surely it was the most obvious solution? “Yeah it’s a good idea,” you yawned. The exhaustion caught up to you, your heavy eyes falling shut. Michael squeezed you just a little tighter and smirked up at the residents that had surrounded you. Their looks of pity towards you were something else. Michael buried his face into your hair, turning off the lights around him. It was the most blissful sleep he had had in years.

////

You woke up sometime the next afternoon. Michael was nowhere to be seen. After using (the now empty) bathroom, you ventured through the house. It looked different. It looked complete in a way. The tarp, random cans of paint and building materials that you were sure where there last night, were gone. It was as if it had been transformed overnight. The strangest thing was how familiar the décor and interior looked. It looked like a bigger version of your own home. It felt familiar yet uncomfortably so. Quite frankly, it looked like your dream home, styled as if it was going to featured in Architectural Digest. You knew it didn’t look like this last night, nothing close to it. Then you thought back to the wardrobe upstairs, the one you had sleepily pulled your current clothing out of. It was full of your own clothing. Clothing that you didn’t bring with you. Did Michael do this while you were asleep? When did he get the time? You scoured the house for your car keys and purse. Only finding pieces of familiar décor instead. Your stomach got the better of you, heading to the kitchen and hopefully finding something to eat. The pantry was stocked full of your favourites, pulling out a box of your favourite cereal. It was at this moment you were sure that all the pieces were taken from your home. One of the cereal bowls had the same chip that yours had. The nervousness and paranoia of last night began to seep back into you, your face visibly twisted in those emotions. As you mindlessly ate your cereal, the basement door creaked open. You stopped mid chew to look. You quickly swallowed and slowly walked towards it. Telling yourself that there was nothing to fear, and that you were just going to shut it. You heard a thud as you reached the door. Maybe Michael was down there and needed some help or something. You slowly walked down the steps, being careful not to make any noise. Your hand covered your mouth to stop your scream and prevent you from vomiting from the smell. The image forever burned into your memory. There was blood everywhere. Michael had his back turned to you, you were sure he hadn’t sensed your presence yet. You slowly backed away, trying to be quiet and not alert him. You let out a shaky breath when you were back in the hallway. You didn’t care about finding your things now, you had to get out of here. The front door wouldn’t budge open, the backdoor was no different. None of the window’s downstairs would open either. You then remember one of the windows was cracked open in the room you were sleeping in. You may injure yourself, but it looked like your only way out. You pushed the window up even further, making enough room for you to jump out. You hoisted one leg over the ledge, looking out for your landing spot. You prepared yourself to move the other leg, but it wouldn’t budge. You tugged at it a few times before looking back. Those blue, rage filled eyes were staring back at you, holding your leg, and preventing you from getting out. “Get. Back. In.,” he said, through clenched teeth. You shook your head, looking away from him. You didn’t want to think about who’s blood he was covered in. “Please let me go,” you whispered, hoping he’d take mercy on you somehow. His grip just got tighter. You mustered up all your strength, kicking him off you. He let go of your leg, it gave you enough time to jump. You felt the wind rush around you as you fell. You hit the ground a lot harder than you thought. Your head ricocheted off the ground painfully. You ignored the crunch your legs made. Everything hurt so bad, the pain wouldn’t even let you scream. You knew you had calculated your fall right. The ghosts thought you did too, all watching with various shocked expressions. You tried to move and look around you and stay awake. You could only look up. Through your darkening vision, the last thing you saw was Michael leaning out the window, smiling down at you. The cat had caught the canary.

////

You groaned in pain as you opened your eyes.

The light was blinding, difficult to adjust to.

Where were you? Why were you here? How long had it been?

As you looked around, the room looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Oh? You’re finally awake, It’s been a few days, I missed seeing your eyes” a male voice spoke from beside you.

You slowly turned your head to the voice.

The man looked familiar; you raked your brain to figure out who it was.

He placed his hand on your cheek, you hissed and flinched as he stroked scabby and bruised skin. “Look at you. If you had stayed inside, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

His eyes finally met yours and everything came rushing back.

A feeling of dread overtook you. You tried to shuffle away from him, but something was preventing you from moving.

You tried to figure out what it was. Looking yourself over, noticing the blanket was bulky.

You momentarily forgot about the predator in the room, pulling the blanket away and revealing your legs, both in casts.

One of the casts had been signed, ‘get well soon, Love, your Alpha’.

You wanted to sob, but you knew any sudden movements would be painful.

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket back over you, tucking you in.

“If you’re good, you’ll get your painkillers. If you’re bad…,” he leaned over you, putting his weight on your legs, “I’ll cut them off next time,” he grinned.

He got onto the other side of the bed, holding you close to him, squeezing you just a little too tight, and giving your forehead a kiss.

Not even the apocalypse could get you out of his grasp now, he’d kill you both before anything tried to take you from him. Wherever you were, that was his sanctuary. Even if it meant eternal torment in the pits of hell, it didn’t matter, as long as it was with you.

#my writing #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #Oneshot

69 notes · View notes

pretendrocketships · 4 years

Text

Planez

About: Shawn’s the pilot. You’re a flight attendant. Do the math. (SMUT)

A/N: THIS REQUEST WAS HOT. I kinda wanna do more with this but I know nothing about planes lmaooo. If y’all want and if I can figure out google, I’m down. Feedback and asks are welcome anytime! Enjoy! (3K)

Song: Planez by Jeremih ft. J Cole

“Boys,” you scolded, causing both giggling men to turn and look at you. “Is someone going to make the announcement, or shall I?”

“Nose goes,” the copilot said while sneaking around you to head to the bathroom. You glared at Shawn as he shot you his famous smile and grabbed the microphone.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. On behalf of the entire crew and I, we’d like to welcome you to Memphis. We’re looking at a clear sky and ninety-three degrees out. Thank you so much for choosing to fly with us, and we hope to see you again!” You rolled your eyes at his fake chipper voice. He put the hand-held device on the dashboard and turned fully to look at you. “Happy?”

“You know it would be a lot easier for you to do your job if you just did yours,” you informed him, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“And it would be a lot easier for me to do my job if your skirt weren’t so tight.” You felt your cheeks blazing with heat at his comments and wandering eyes. You flustered while pulling your skirt down the best you could. “Not helping,” he said, cocking his head to the side, “said tight, love, not short, but I do love the view.”

“Maybe if you focused this hard on your job,” you snapped, folding your arms over your chest. A soft moan left the back of his throat.

“You act like I’m not just staring at your tits right now.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Your black heels stomped against the floor in disbelief. He laughed and stood up to join you against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your cheeks.

“What’s gotten you so worked up? Usually, you’re on my ass but today you just can’t get enough of me huh?” You went to answer until he raised his eyebrows in realization. “Wait, wait I remember. Your tinder date last night,” he recalled smugly, “Couldn’t get it up and couldn’t get you off,” he shook his head, “what a shame.” Your jaw dropped. He chuckled at the complete look of shock on your face. “It was a long flight and Cristina has a big mouth. You should know this by now.” You groaned and closed your eyes.

“Bring up my sex life again, and I will end you, Mendes,” you threatened.

“And I’ll return the favor,” he whispered messing with the scarf tied around your neck, “since none of your dates seem to be able to finish you off.” The glint in his eyes made you want to punch him and fuck him in the copilot’s seat. The tension between you two was obvious to the entire crew and to each other. Shawn’s teasing touches and flirty comments wouldn’t be so constant if you didn’t make it a point to let the biggest in-flight gossip know about all your failed attempts at love and dating. The entire airline had money on the bet of who would cave first.

“Shawn if you don’t—“

“Hi.” Both of you snapped your heads towards a little boy in the doorway, staring up at Shawn with bright eyes and a wide smile.

“I can’t imagine how horny you are right now,” he whispered into your ear, “but I have to take care of something right now, so keep it in your pants, yeah?” He chuckled to himself, completely ignoring your scowl before attending to the little kid. “Hi buddy! What‘s up?” He crouched to the kid’s level and gave his best smile.

“W-well,” the boys stuttered, “I wanna drive planes, and you drive planes, so I-I wanted to say you did a really good job driving us here!” Shawn’s grin spread from ear to ear as he hugged the boy.

“Thanks, bud. Wanna come check out the pit?” The kid nods excitedly when Shawn picks him up and plops him down in the seat. You’ve seen this routine plenty of time, and something about seeing him with kids, especially after him being so dirty, had you squeezing your thighs together. The boy’s eyes are blown as he admires all the flips and switches littering the dashboard. He reaches his chubby hand out before withdrawing it.

“Touch?” he simply questioned. Shawn laughed and ruffled his hair.

“Go for it,” He has a field day flipping switched and messing with the radio. Watching Shawn teach him about controls and flying did something to you that you can’t put your finger on. Maybe it was because it was such a sharp contrast from what was coming out of his mouth just moments before. Shawn showed him all around and indulged in making airplane noises as he pretended to fly the huge aircraft.

“Oh god, there you are!” An older woman ran into the plane, visibly relieved to find her seemingly lost son. “What did I tell you about running off like that!”

“But mommy! Look, I’m driving the plane!” You saw her shoulders relax, realizing her son was fine. She shot you both a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry about this. Tommy, c’mon let's go.”

“But mom!” You laughed to yourself as the little boy pouted, and Shawn joined him, both of them folding their hands in prayer begging the mom to let him stay. She laughed at their antics.

“No, Tom, we gotta go. Let’s take a picture to show Grandma, then let’s go and leave these nice people alone.”

“Gotta look for the picture right?” Shawn quickly fished around to find a miniature set of wings that matched his own.

“Cool!” Shawn grabbed you and pulled you into his side.

“Smile, bud!”

“1,2..” as she said three, Shawn grabbed your ass with a firm squeeze. You gasped but covered it up with a cough.

“Say thank you.”

“Thank you! Bye-bye!” He exclaimed and walked out happily, examining his shiny, new pin. Shawn waited until they were completely out of earshot to give his attention back to you, smirking while pressing you against the wall.

“So, wanna see my cockpit?”

You scoffed at his antics. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Well, you know I don’t like leaving until everyone is gone, and it seems like something’s keeping you on board,” he said smugly.

“What makes you think I even want to fuck you, Shawn?”

“Well,” he started, “none of the last,” he paused to think, “three of your tinder dates haven’t made you cum.” He doesn’t even give you the chance to protest. “Am I wrong?” You hit him on the chest, but before you could retract he grabbed your hand. He dragged your hand down his body. “Tell me when to stop,” he murmured. He moves your hand from his biceps to his chest. He kept piercing eye contact. You felt him move his hand down his chest and down resting at his abs. He pulled you by the neck and pressed a soft kiss under your ear. “I said,” his voice was hard and loud against your ear, “Tell. Me. When. To. Stop.” You had no excuse because he made sure you heard every word.

“I heard you,” you whispered. He slowly moved your hand to cup him.

“Fuck,” he groaned softly when he felt you squeeze him.

“What do you think Hillary would say about this?” He grunted at the mention of your boss.

“You’re getting a handful of my beautiful cock, and you’re thinking of a middle-aged woman right now?”

“Shut up would you?” He cocked his head to the side.

“What? Want me to put my mouth to better use?”

“You’re spending so much time talking, I’m wondering if you even know how?” You challenged. He picked you up and dropped you in the pilot’s seat. He crawled on top of you, holding intense eye contact.

“See, honey, the thing is, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get me to fuck you without having to say it. But, you’re going to have to say it if you want to finally figure out what an orgasm feels like.” You squinted at him, thinking about how you’d play this. You got up off his lap and kept his gaze, and you shimmied out of your panties. You say back on top of him, moving just enough to broadcast a wet print on his pants. You took his hat off of his head and placed it on yours.

“Your move, Mendes.” He wasted no time. He surged up to capture your lips in a kiss.

“How many times do you think I could make you cum before the cleaning staff comes? I’m thinking three,” he pondered aloud. You rolled your eyes as if his confidence didn’t turn you on.

“Get to work.”

“Kinda turns me on when you get all bossy.” As soon as the words left his mouth he bunched your skirt up around your waist. “The times I’ve dreamed about doing this.” He moved his hands to your blouse and ripped it open, loose buttons pooling on the ground around you.

“Shawn! What the fuck? This isn’t a porno,” you scolded him, already thinking of where to find another shirt before your next flight.

“It can be if you let me work.” Before he even finished his thought, his lips were mouthing at your clothed clit. Hearing your moans only made him work harder, feeling himself getting turned the more you tugged at his curls.

Like the tease he was, he immediately moved away from your clit to leave marks along your inner thighs before pulling away. “No, no fuck this, you have to take this off.” You took your sweet time shaking your ass and putting on a show. When it was finally off, he yanked you down on top of him. “Thanks for my chair back.” He smacked your ass. “Now hop on, love.” You shot him a look.

“Weren’t you being cute and sweet like just a minute ago?”

“Reserved for kids and kids alone, but you can be my baby if you want.” You wanted to fuck the smugness out of him. Literally. You ran out of comebacks, so you just sank down on top of him and soaked in the feeling of his hips sputtering up and him finally being silent for once. You could’ve sworn you felt his dick twitch inside of you. Your hips rolled back and forth over him. The sound of your wet pussy and your thighs smacking against him were the only sounds to be heard in the plane.

“You know? I quite like quiet Shawn.” It was your turn to tease. He was memorizing the feeling of having you wrapped around him. He was comparing to what he imagined, and the real thing didn’t even come close. Your knees were planted by his side and your hips were moving on a mission, chasing a high you hadn’t felt in weeks. “Am I making you feel good, baby?” you teased. His grip on your waist was deadly tight. All he could do is bask in the feeling. He let you roll your hips into him. “So good for me,” you praised in breathy moans. You forced your eyes open to see his face scrunched up in pleasure. Part of the turn-on was being able to tease him without a single comeback, Shawn being too wrapped up in pleasure to respond. That was until his hat fell off your head brought him back to reality. He stopped you to flip you over.

“I’m about to fuck that smirk off your face.” He grabs your hips and slams you back onto him. You swear you feel the plane shaking. He switched his pace from hard and fast to slow and exploring. The way he swirled his hips made the hair on your skin stand up. His hips were snapping then swirling. After your last guy didn’t even know that the g-spot was real, your head was spinning. “Feel good to finally be getting fucked right? Fuck, you feel amazing, (Y/N).” His moans sound delicious right in your ear. He slowed down only to reach his hand down and play with your clit. “God, do you look good.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Fuck me!” Your whimper was pathetic and he was living for it. “Right there! Fuck, please Shawn,” you instructed in a broken moan as he hit the perfect spots at the perfect speed.

“Right there huh?” he mocked, “could’ve had this dick so long ago but you never wanted to ask and now you’re begging.” He was laughing to himself but his focus was on how his cock was just slipping out of you. He makes a mental note to tease you about how wet he got you on your flight to New York. The sounds of your juices pooling around him at his change of pace were filthy. He wished he were recording. This middle and pointer finger found their way to your clit, rubbing in messy circles.

“S-shawn please,” you cried out, the constant drilling made your head spin.

“Please what? Please make you cum all over my cock? Please fuck me til I can’t walk? Please bury your face in my sweet peach?” He moaned before he could even finish his comeback. “Might have to do that last one.” The lack of attention had your orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly, and he knew it. “That you fluttering around me?” He laughed and made sure every snap of his hips assaulted your g spot in the most delicious way. “That quick, hun?” Your skin was warm. Too warm. Every single word did nothing but made your clit throb more. You couldn’t even find the words to warn him before you were squeezing the cum out of him, cumming harder than you’ve ever had.

“Fuckkkkk,” you whined out weakly as you felt tingles all over your body.

“Christ! Fuck baby, just like that.” He never slowed down, chasing his high at the expense of your oversensitivity. You started squirming, trying to slow the attack on your g spot. He finally stilled, only to release streams of cum inside of you. You were still catching your breath when he pulled out and dropped to his knees, the thud forcing you to open your eyes.

“S-shawn, what are you--” He laughed.

“You thought I was done before I even got a taste?” The moan you let out was absolutely pathetic, and Shawn felt his cock fattening up already. He licked a thick stripe over your opening. You locked your thighs around his head as soon as you felt his tongue prod at the mixture of both your releases. Your hands were tugging relentlessly on his curls, causing him to moan into you. The vibrations made your hips flicker up. He pulled back to look at the mess he made, admiring his work.“Little (Y/N) getting turned on by me licking the cum out of her,” he tisked. “Never told me you were so naughty,” he whispered into you.

“Less talking, more--” He winked and dove back into you, sucking the remark right out of you. His tongue was dancing inside you, licking you clean. He was exploring every inch of you and making a map to commit to memory for the next time you let him fuck you senseless because he knew there would be a next time. He licked over spots that made your legs tighten around him more. When he felt your hips itching to move, he threw his arm over you and inserted three fingers inside your greedy hole. You lurched forward, gasping for air.

“Fucking shit!” You felt him grin against your clit. The ego trip you were going to have to deal with was nothing in comparison to how good you felt right now.

“You’re throbbing for me love,” he declared as he moved his arm from your stomach, moving to slap at your clit. “Feel that good?” his tone was almost questioning himself if he could really be that good.

“Yes! Yes oh my god, please don’t stop,” you begged.

“Sounding like I’m the best you’ve ever had.” He was doubling down on his effort, his fingers inside of you and against your clit were flying. You didn’t even have time to appreciate his biceps bulging as he used all his focus and strength to bring you a mind-shattering orgasm.

“Fuck, you are.” Good thing your eyes were shut or else you would’ve seen his head get big.

“I want that in writing,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on your clit, loving seeing your back float off the chair because of how good it is. You opened your mouth to try and warn him this time, let him know you couldn’t last much longer feeling this good. “You’re close aren’t you? I feel you fluttering around me. About to cum, (Y/N)? About to cum all over my fingers for me? Such a good girl letting me fuck you you right here where anyone could walk in and see.” He knew you were close. He felt it. “Let me have it, (Y/N). Fuck, I can’t wait to taste. Let me have a taste, honey.” Somewhere, in the midst of it all, he had you cumming, seeing stars. Your eyes were shut so tightly, you saw white flashes dancing behind your eyelids as he ripped your orgasm from you. You were thrashing around, trying to run away from the pleasure and savor the feeling at the same time.

“S-s-sha-wn.” Your cries for him were broken and useless. Once the wave of pleasure started, there was nothing you could do but ride it out. Shawn was shushing you softly and caressing your thighs to soothe you and bring you down. His soft actions lasted until you finally blinked your eyes open to stare at him lazily.

“Cleaners still aren’t here love. Are you forgetting I said three orgasms?”

WE LOVE FEEDBACK IN THIS HOUSE

564 notes · View notes