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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

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Perfect Imperfections

Sam WIlson One Shot

Summary- 2.7k Sam Wilson x Reader. After a lifetime of issues with your skin that result in some scaring, you have a condition called hidradenitis suppurativa. (a chronic skin condition that has painful flare ups and leaves scars.) Letting Sam see these imperfections scare you, but he is a patient man. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Warnings- Needle use, mentions of skin imperfections, sexual moments. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- This is written for @gotnofucks Body Positivity Challenge. As soon as I saw this challenge, I knew the topic I wanted to tackle with this. Thank you for such a wonderful challenge to participate in. Much Love always babes.

Sam Masterlist

“I have what?” You cringe at the name, it's a long complicated name that ties up your tongue when you try to repeat it, the doctor gives a knowing smile in sympathy.

“Hidradenitis Suppurativa, or HS.” He offered a simpler option for you, maybe one that wasn't so intimidating to say.

“And how do I treat it?” You question nervously, what horror was it going to be? Some sort of surgery, endless medications, injections, or worse… would he tell you there was nothing to do but live with it.

You were tired of living with it, you had the scars left over and really didn't want anymore.

“I’m going to write you a prescription, some antibiotics and an injection that you will need every week.”

Your heart lifted a bit when he filled out the email, sending it to your pharmacy. “Thank you.” you said with some relief that there was a solution to treating it. But nothing could take away what its already left behind.

All your life you lived with these small sores that just came out of nowhere in the worst spots; inside of your thighs, under your breasts, under your arms. All these years you had been embarrassed to go to a doctor about them. But Sam finally convinced you to go when he saw you in pain and refused to let him come near you because they made you feel disgusting.

That was the hardest part of it, was feeling you were hideous when you had someone like Sam who swore up and down every day that you were beautiful and tried so hard to prove it to you. Little text messages throughout the day, a surprise note stuck to the bathroom mirror for you to find, date nights out walking along the street with his arm around you and constantly whispering in your ear how he had the prettiest girl in town. All little things that he was persistent on, and sometimes they even worked. You would feel that shame lifting and your smile brightening for him.

He would wink and press a kiss to your forehead in these moments. “That’s my girl.”

Now you were sitting on the edge of your bed with the injection pen, your hand shaking slightly from the nerves. Earlier a nurse had shown you how to use it, and what to expect.

But stabbing yourself was a different story then letting someone else do it. Your fear was getting the best of you and you had to set the injection pen aside.

You drew in a ragged breath now that you were no longer holding the offending item, scolding yourself for not being able to do something so simple.

Something your body needed desperately, cause maybe the flare ups wouldn't be so bad, you wouldn't be embarrassed to let Sam see you like he wanted, less pain. All of it could be better if you could get past this point.

You never heard Sam come down the hallway towards your bedroom and happened to see you push away the injection, curl up on yourself on the bed. More then anything he wanted to take all of that pain and insecurity away from you, cause damn you were unlike anyone hes dated before. Sweeter then his grandma’s sweet tea, he could just bask in your glow that you brought to a room. Your laughter never failed to catch his attention from across a room and when you would set your sight on him, give that soft affectionate smile. Oh he was done. You made him feel like the only one in the room.

And that was just the minor stuff. Everything in his building relationship with you settled in him as it all being so right, Sam was finding he wanted nothing more then to keep building a life with you. So these moments tore him because he just wanted to fix it for you.

Sam gave a soft knock on the door frame before stepping into the bedroom. “Hey Sugar, you alright?” You rubbed at your face as the bed dipped from Sam sitting next to you and he grasped the injection pen, rolling it lightly in his fingers.

“Yes…” You lied at first and Sam gave you a look, an arch of his brow that asked for the truth. “No. Im supposed to inject that and fuck it, my hand wont stop shaking just thinking about it.” You grasped your hands together and held them still.

Sam rolled the injection in his own hands and tilted his head towards you, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “Would you like me to give it to you?”

You cringed a bit, not that you didn't trust him, you trusted Sam immensely. You trusted him more everyday that you two were together. Sam was your strength, the one you leaned on.

But you haven't been able to give up your body issues. That was something you were still scared to death for him to see. So much you wouldn't even let him see you completely naked in the light. Every night you would scramble to darken the room before settling into bed for the night. The horrible scars between your thighs that prevented you from wearing shorts or short skirts, the flare ups that shamed you till you would hide away making some lame excuse why you couldn't go out. Now this, having to take the shot made you squirm a bit to top all the other stuff.

Sam tilted his head to brush his lips to your shoulder, trying to ease you. “If you want, I can give it to you. My Gram used to have me help her once in a while with her diabetes injections. You have a trained professional right here.” He tried putting you at ease, getting you through your uncomfortable feelings, but you pulled away a bit more.

“No, it's not entirely that Sam.” You twisted your fingers together, looking down. “It’s-uhh- fuck. It's complicated.”

He frowned a bit, setting the injection aside and reached his hand to cover yours, tugging lightly till your fingers weaved with his. “Well then let's uncomplicate it Y/N.”

You lifted your gaze to look at him, this man who had the softest brown eyes and a smile that made your insides melt with just a few words, you felt silly, guilty and like a disappointment admitting anything out loud.

“Me, I'm a mess. I will always have to do these shots, my body is going to have these issues whenever it feels like, I hate looking like this, I'm so scared to let you see me…” You dropped it all, Sam’s hand giving slight squeezes and when your voice started to crack, your words getting ahead of thoughts so they were all a rush, he reached to twist you to face him, his hands moving to cup your face, thumbs sweeping sway at some of those tears tracking down your face.

“Oh Sugar, if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be worried about what I see anymore. Your stunning, fucking beautiful baby and I’m more then happy to remind you everyday.”

“You don’t know Sam, it's so ugly…” You started and he let his forehead lean against yours to calm you. You felt his hands slide around you and yours eased around him, breathe in, breathe out, let your mind stop racing.

“You don’t have to show me today, or tomorrow. Never if you are never okay with it. It's not going to change what I feel and know. So I will remind you everyday that you are the most beautiful woman to me. You love me flaws and all after all.”

You rolled your eyes a bit, scoffing. “You make it easy Sam.”

Winking at you, he slid his hands up and down your back while he eased away. “And you don’t? Sugar, you are so good to me that Sarah already told me I would be a fool to let you get away.” You could feel yourself loosening in his hold, your own arms circling up around his neck to press against him, each hugging one another. You could feel soft presses of his lips to your neck, squeezing you a bit closer. “And I agree.”

You giggled softly, nuzzling in against him and letting his strong feel and warmth wash over you. Hints of warm cedar and sandalwood tickled your nose, and suddenly everything was just better. You pulled away with a gentle “Thank You Handsome”

“Anytime Baby… now... “ He picked up the injection one more time and dragged his teeth against his bottom lip for a moment in thought. “We don’t have to rush with anything until you are ready. But this…” He tapped the pen against his fingers. “Will you let me help you with it?”

You nodded and he moved to kneel in front of you, heavy palms rubbing against the top of your jean clad thighs as you moved your shirt up over your belly.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this.” You say shakily and Sam smiles that reassuring one of his that makes you feel at ease.

“Don’t you worry Sugar, I got you.” He was gentle when he pinched a bit of your skin and pressed the pen to the area. You started shivering, your breathing caught. “Hey, look at me, m’kay?” It took a moment to pry your eyes away from the pen to his warm eyes. “Not gonna hurt, I promise.”

Then there was a loud click and you jumped more in surprise at the sudden noise than anything. A slight sting was soon erased with giddiness that it was over and he was pulling the now emptied pen away from your belly. You sagged slightly in relief and Sam pushed himself up, gripping your chin gently and pressing an affectionate kiss to your mouth.

“Told you Sugar, I got you.”

Couple Months Later

You and Sam were messing around on the couch, your head laughing as he hovered over you, he was belting out a very off key rendition of Barry White’s Your Sweetness Is My Weakness while skimming fingers along your sides under your tank top and kissing down your neck. Your hands rubbed over his head to fist in the back of his shirt and tug it over his head, discarding it over the back of the cough. His own rucking your tank top over your head and leaning back on his thighs, whistling at you all stretched out before him on the couch, making you cover your face in embarrassment. “Hey, none of that. Fuck Sugar, you are so damn fine.” that last word hissed from between his teeth as his eyes dripped molten warmth, flaring in the pit of your belly.

You peeked at him from between your fingers and arched slightly to reach behind you, unsnapping your bra and he eased it down, giving a groan.

A very appreciative groan. The groan of a man who saw something he really wanted.

His mouth landed on you as well as his hands, roaming supple soft curves and tasting your sweet skin, like a collection of honey dew salt on his tongue. A nipple swirled around his tongue with a hum that was like a jolt to your system.

Lacing your veins with desire, you felt the mindless buzz of worries start to fade to the background while you enjoyed the sensations he built in you. Now and then you would catch sight of his gaze flickering upwards to you, a check in that you were okay with how this was progressing. Your body had a mind of its own, clearly aware of how to roll under his hands, enabling him to shift you further down the couch till he was inching to a kneel between your spread thighs. His hands slipped over your hips to hook his fingers in the band of your shorts, your hips arched for him to drag them away, but that is where Sam stopped. You gave an impatient whine and flickered your gaze up at him. A slight sheen of sweat coasted across his broad tensed chest, every part of him held back with anticipation, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why Sam stopped right here.

“This is what you want, Sugar? Are you okay with this?”

Then it occurred to you he was giving you the option to say no. Some of those anxieties started to drift back, your fingers twisting together as you spiraled away from the moment. You wished he just kept going, not giving you the option. But that wasn't who Sam was.

It was now or never, and your resolve settled in you, almost a comfort that you were taking this step with him. A nod made Sam drag his teeth across his bottom lip, taking your confirmation to continue.

You squeezed your eyes shut while your shorts came off, and you felt the familiar calloused hands sweep along the inside of your thighs and spread you open wider, a soft gasp from him making your eyes shoot open in fear, was he repulsed by the scars?! You knew you should have never let it get this far. Everything in you was afraid to look and see his reaction, just picturing his handsome face looking at you in disgust.

What you saw was anything but, Sam looked you up and down with nothing but lust in his eyes and an appreciative groan as he let his thumb trace along your slit, spreading your lips apart. “Y/N, you are absolutely beautiful Sugar, and all for me? What a gift.”

You hovered at the pool side bar while Natasha mixed together a luscious fruity drink, anyone who said these drinks were “girly” simply didn't know. The amount of liquor she mixed with vibrant syrups till you had a tropical blue concoction would get you buzzed faster than any one shot of liquor could. It was just what you wanted. An explosion of fruit on your tongue that would leave you feeling good. When she handed it over, you sipped from the frosty edge with an appreciative hum. “Mmhh, perfect.” You praise while she wedged on a pineapple slice to the brim.

“I know, you are telling me nothing new Y/N.” She teased while she whipped up her own, the red head sauntering out from behind the bar with her own drink, the two of you approaching the pool side to sit in the warm sunshine. Natasha settled in one lounger, stretching herself out with another sip of her drink before setting it aside.

You spread a towel out and then unwrapped your cover to let your two piece bikini be revealed, no longer hiding yourself away.

You felt no more shame in the scars inside your thighs, the dimpling of skin where sore have healed over and over. Sam had helped you chase those fears away over time and now when you applied your sunscreen, you looked over your shoulder to see Sam strolling along the pools edge, his eyes all over you with a wide grin. Making his way over to you two, his hand sweeping around you to grasp your sunscreen bottle while kissing your shoulder. “Let me Sugar... “ He brushed his nose against your neck while moving to sit in the other seat, scooting closer to spread the sunscreen across your shoulders. “You look fantastic by the way. Is this a new swimsuit?”

You hummed while tilting your head forward, popping a shoulder as if it was no big deal, but it was the first time you had worn a swimsuit out in public in longer than you could remember. You felt his arms circle your mid section, pulling you back into his set so you could lounge back against his chest, your legs weaved through his.

“Brand new Sam, do you like it?”

He growled lightly against your ear while nipping your earlobe, whispering against the shell of your ear while he flushed playful kisses to that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Very much so, good luck stopping me from peeling you from it later.”

Playful touches and heated kisses made you feel just like his queen in the summertime sunshine, unable to keep his affections to himself.

#dibspositivitychallenge #sam wilson x reader #bodypositivity #tw hs #tw skin condition #tw needles #amber writes #sweater writes

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pizzarollsareokayiguess · 4 years ago

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Far too much (Kuvira x Fem!Reader)

This is part 2 to Close enough? And I’m so thankful for all the people that interacted with my first written work!! So here’s this, I had so much fun writing it! If you guys wanna see somethin more specific or have ideas, send ‘em my way! Love you!!

WC: 5200 (almost 2x my last one!) TW: none that i’m aware of, lemme know though <3

You felt as stupid as a raccoon-toad.

When the avatar came to collect you to travel back to Zaofu, you were excited because you were going back home, even if you were being punished for your crimes. Unfortunately, Suyin had extended the invitation to the other individuals who were also from Zaofu. It seemed that she was sentimental and decided that every one needed a second chance.

So you were stuck with a bunch of people that you were not entirely fond of, especially when they heard of what happened to Kuvira. After that, you could just feel the glares they sent your way, which was annoying because that’s all they did. They just stared and would raise their stupid eyebrows. Why couldn’t they just get over it and shove it? It didn’t help that your injury still required attendance by healers and physical therapy. So even if you wanted to avoid all attention, it was a little pointless when they said you could only apply yourself for a couple of hours before resting.

There was a constant dull throb in your side, no matter the number of healers. Sometimes it would chill out but when you were awake for too long or when you skipped a meal, it would come back and stiffen your back. It was a constant battle and there were some times that you just wished that Kuvira double tapped you. It could've saved a lot of emotional and physical turmoil.

So, back to the situation on hand. You and several others were on a train that would stop in the heart of the Metal Clan. After that, each person would be sent to a camp that was ran by a horse faced individual who lacked the sympathy of a real person. You were told to call him General Zheng, if you ever saw him, and after that he left to go talk to the head of the guard. You and the others were hustled into a medical looking outlet, and each person was given a platinum band around each left ankle.

“It’s to make sure you don’t leave and to make sure you obey. Can’t have you running around like hen-ducks, right?”

ugh.

It had been several days since you had arrived in Zaofu. By then, everyone had been stationed with their community service and you started to get used to the schedule given. General Zhen said since you had to serve the community as your punishment, you could choose your schedule, basically saying, “How long do you really wanna do this?”. You could remain under order until your sentence was done or you could rush it out and leave it early. As early as you could anyway with a 25 year sentence. You decided to go with the latter; even with your injury, you thought that you could cut it by a year or two which sounded pretty minimal but you’d take anything at this point. At 10am you would wake up and eat then head towards the outskirts of the ring. There, you would begin to bend the metal together to create cohesive pieces for other workers to make into the plates that would create the dome. Others were tasked with mining the actual ore, and they were even paid for that, but you had to create the joints for them. Sitting and concentrating for about 8 hours a day would cause you to slouch and then you’d get yelled at by the healers. Who were scarier than a guy on cactus juice. You’d visit the healers once a week and they would see if your scar had healed or if it was infected. After seeing them, you would head over to the park where they held physical therapy outside. It was really nice to see all of nature while an old lady calmly coaxes you into the tree pose. Gaining balance was the hardest because your brain was trying to compensate for the strain in your side. You also kinda wanted to punch the lady because that’s is as far as I go stop pushing me areyoutuchingmerightnowareyouserious.

Needless to say, it was nice to go back to the plain gray walls of your (holding cell) room and just breathe quietly by yourself.

Then you got used to your routine which was a mistake because then something had to go and mess it up. And who else would it be if not for the very person who put you here?

Madam Jilpa was going to be the death of you. That near death experience you had? Insignificant to the pain that this woman was gracing you with. You wanted to strangle her. She was super nice about your wound, saying how it was healing well and then she manhandled you into a position to “stretch your muscles, you’re awfully sore, my dear.” You rolled your shoulders and exhaled as you left the park. Ever since you came back, people avoided you like the plague and it made the anklet a little more tighter each time. Doesn’t help that it was platinum so it just seemed that it was mocking you every time you caught a glimpse of it. Stupid thing. Stupid city. Stupid community service. Stupid- who is that?

You were strolling through the main street of the city, heading to the store when you saw her. Kuvira. The devil herself. Was I thinking about her? Is that why she’s here? Oh god, she can’t see me, what do i do? Where am I gonna hide? You panicked and slid into the nearest shop, which happened to be a tea shop. Luckily there was a line so you didn’t look too odd. Unluckily, the shop had big glass windows. So as much as you could see her, she could possibly see you? Maybe? You dipped next to the door and peeked out, wondering why Kuvira would be away from the estate. Then you saw the entire Beifong family, whelp. That answers your question. No better way to survey someone than surround them with powerful earthbenders. As your eyes glazed over their faces, you saw Bataar Jr. and Kuvira at the back of the pack. You couldn’t tell if they were talking but they looked like they were standing next to each other, and the evil voice in your head wouldn’t stop talking about how they looked. Together.

Not wanting to add mental therapy to your list of visitation rights, you decided to exit the tea shop and go back the way you came. Back to your plain gray room. Because who needs closure when you have, uh, gray pillows and plain bagels?

…

After that train wreck, it didn’t stop.

Suyin (it felt wrong to call her Su) had talked to the General and they made a plan to talk to each of the prisoners. To really decide if they are evil or not. You could make that decision with the way that these people would play Pai Sho, some of them were just cruel and malicious and a better punishment would be to shove em in the boiling rock.

Unfortunately you were on that list of visits and it was 3 days from now. They even accepted letters from family members. So that you could read how disappointed they are, one more time. But! It was written so it had sentimental value. You felt nauseous when you saw your name scrawled on the letter. Better now than later, it would seem.

Y/n,

I remember the day you were born. You were a screaming ball of anger and you wouldn’t stop crying until you were placed on my chest. Then you shushed and swooned. I knew then and there that I would love you till the day I die and every day after. And it seems that even now, I feel the same way. But, I know now that some paths are a little crowded and you lost your way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you find the light in this dim world, but I just wanted you to know that you are my light. And that is all that matters. When you first left, I was left with irreplaceable pain because in a way, you had left me. But you were just touching the ground and spreading your fingers. You thought you knew best and I’m proud of you for sticking with it. But now that you see the end of this journey, you must stick with the repercussions. That is what it means to find the light and settle with it. You face your decisions and lay with the judgements. I’m glad that you came back to Zaofu. Hopefully, one day, I’ll be able to see your beautiful face again.

Love always,

Mom and Dad

A chip had left your shoulder. Thank the spirits. You could feel the wetness on your cheeks from the compassion from your parents. Perhaps they were right.

Bracing yourself with these words of encouragement, you faced Suyin with strong shoulders and a flinch in your side (cause, honestly, the tea isn’t that good at keeping the pain down).

…

When you were growing up, your parents had tried everything to stop you from sneaking out of the house. They tried metal bars, they tried positive reinforcements, they tried every parental trick in the book. They couldn’t keep you from whatever entranced you from the house. The only person who ever humored you and whoever treated you with some semblance of respect was Kuvira, or ‘Vee, when you were kids. Granted, she also had a rocky relationship but what’s a pot and what’s a kettle? When your parents finally noticed where you were going when you left, they talked to Su about it. If they couldn’t keep you down, they’ll just make sure that nothing bad happens. Because of that, you would spend many hours on the Beifong estate, surrounding yourself with other earthbenders and playing games with the other kids. As you grew, you started to notice how Opal would talk about the cute boy in her class or how Wing and Wei would blush when the dance recitals were held. But, as you got older, all you could think about was how pretty ‘Vee’s eyes were. How green they were, and how much they sparkled when she talked about how she finally joined the guard. How the tank tops she wore outlined her shoulders. You never noticed that when other people were looking outside, that you had found your view right in front of you. Su noticed of course, being the romantic that she was, she got so excited whenever her children were talking about love. Su knew you well, and when Kuvira left Zaofu, she had a feeling that you would leave with her. She had tried so hard to understand you, but she was so angry. Angry at Bataar Jr, angry at Kuvira, angry about everything, that she forgot that you got the short end of the stick too.

So she was nervous too when she invited you over.

…

The door had opened by then even when you hoped that it would remain shut for a little while longer. A guard had escorted you from your quarters into the matriarch’s afternoon room and she was seated near a window that looked to the sprawling estate of the Metal Clan. She looked up at you and smiled softly, and even from the doorway, you could tell that she had gotten older. Maybe not physically, but her eyes were a little wiser and a little more battle worn.

You had settled into the opposite chair, with some grace that you managed to muster, and she had offered you tea. It smelled of lemon and blueberries and you couldn’t help but relax. You couldn’t help it, seeing Su as a mother figure made you wistful of all the memories you shared. With those came remorse and you immediately felt guilty.

“Thank you for allowing me to come back to Zaofu, Su-Suyin, I am eternally grateful that you have allowed me back after what I did,” you said. After your stutter, it seemed your words came in a rush, unable to be held back.

“I wanted to apologize for leaving in the first place. I didn’t realise that I was blind to all the hurt that occurred when this thing started and I should’ve noticed when the first person that was wounded was you. I thought that I knew what I was doing when I left because I thought Ku-” you inhaled sharply, “I thought she would be the answer. It was wrong of me to place such big standards on her without thinking of the consequences. I know now that I followed her out of personal feeling, and not logic. I will forever be humbled by the events that happened and I just hope that you may forgive me. I am incredibly regretful of turning my back on you Su, I wish my eyes had stayed open a little longer.”

You were a little choked up and you finally pulled your eyes away from your tea cup to look at Su, finding her eyes already on you. Tears were pooling in her eyes and she was softly smiling.

Laughing softly, she speaks.

“You don’t speak often but when you do, you speak,” she sighs and looks outside again.

“I must admit that the most heartbreaking thing was watching Kuvira walk out because i knew that if she left, you would too. It's been that way since you were children. Little younglings running across the estate, throwing rocks and giggling to yourselves. I knew when she left that you would go. You follow the ones you love, you want them in your lives so you do what you must. I understand the feeling well.”

She looks at you and stands from her seat, walking around the table and kneeling at your side.

Softly, she places her hands on yours and squeezes.

“When I saw you on the floor, my mind ran a thousand miles. But until your testimony before your trial, I never imagined. The Kuvira that you love exists, but the Kuvira you followed are not the same. I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to warn you. People change right before your very eyes and it’s hard to adapt. I love you as if you were my own, Y/n, and I forgive you. As a parent, I am disappointed but that’s to be expected.”

Smiling you lurched forward and squished her against yourself. It didn’t take you long to become a little touch-starved from being in prison but man, hugging Su felt like landing on cotton and honey. Squeezing your shoulders, Su pulls back.

“Y/n, I’m telling you now what I had to tell myself. The right people get second chances. Currently, Kuvira and Bataar Jr are working with Korra and her friends to stop the remaining forces of the United army. They are good people, and I believe that they can do good things. But it’s up to them. You must wait for them to come to you. This isn’t in your hands now. If they want to change, they must do it themselves. That is my advice to you: good people will come around, they just need time.”

She gave you one last hug and released you. Stepping back she smiled, her eyes finally matching.

“I don’t want to take up all of your day, so I’ll let you go for now.”

You said your goodbyes with Su and the guard escorted you off of the estate.

It didn’t hit you until then that you didn’t flinch everytime she said Kuvira. Taking what Su and your parents said, you lifted your shoulders and promised yourself that you would change your days. You would begin the days with a smile and you would end the days with satisfaction.

…

Days had passed by then and your mood had only gotten better. Physical therapy was going better, your side had stopped constantly throbbing and was starting to scar over. Blues and yellows surrounded the tissue but you were able to go up stairs without passing out! Checking the integrity of the metal plates was what filled your afternoons but those passed by too. Soon, the petals of the metal clan were slowly starting to form and the construction was almost complete.

One day, when you were coming back from your shift, you had heard that Kuvira had returned. Something about brainwashing and how Asami was kidnapped? It sounded crazy to you but when you thought about it, there was this one doctor who wanted to control a person's thinking. Luckily, ‘Vee thought it was too barbaric and the idea was shelved. Korra was able to put a stop to it and her friends were returned back to normal with both charges returning back to Zaofu. It seemed that that test had proved to the rest of the Beifong family that they had taken a step towards fixing their past and wanting to grasp their future. You were happy that they decided to redeem themselves. It made sleep a little easier knowing that your ‘Vira was still in there.

Your brain wasn’t helpful though. As successful physical therapy was, it never helped the nightmares. It didn’t help the murmurs of your brain and the self deprecating remarks. It was exhausting. (How come she gets a happy ending? Wasn’t I supposed to be a part of it? I thought she loved me? I thought-) Yeah, well, you thought a lot of things. Just eat your toast and inspect that metal. Spirits sake.

…

Flowers were delivered to you.

Lilacs. Their fragile petals and purple centers called to you and you froze looking at them. They were placed in your quarters along with mail from your parents. You weren’t allowed to send mail yet but you could still receive them. But flowers?

Listen, as an earthbender and a metalbender, you have grown to know the planet pretty well. From the flimsy sand to the swollen stone beneath you, you feel the breath of the earth in your bones.

But that doesn’t mean you know a single thing about flowers. You know that they are pretty and that roses can be yellow in certain parts of the continent but lilacs? Pretty, purple, dainty, flowers? Confusion couldn’t even begin to explain the words you were feeling. Don’t flowers have meanings too? You have never received flowers before, you had convinced everyone around you that you would rather punch a boulder than receive flowers. And yet here they are.

It seems as if they are staring at you. Glaring at you. Laughing at you. (Who calls themselves an earthbender but can’t tell the difference in flowers? How stupid of-)

Snapping yourself from your stupor you spin around and walk right into the door jam.

Son of a flying-

…

You corner Hahn later on that night. Word in the prison yard says that when he was a free man, he was a farmer who lived next to a guy who happened to be a gardner of flowers. Which flowers didn’t matter but the fact that you kind of knew someone that had knowledge of flowers seemed like a win.

You plopped yourself on the seat in front of him and stared into his aged eyes. He had dark spotted skin from his field days and the wrinkles around his eyes suggested that he knew many things. A trustworthy source. (Your only source)

“Do you know anything about flowers Hahn?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I got two days worth of desert that has your name on it if you tell me a thing or two.” Interest peaked, he leaned forward.

“I have a reputation kid, I ain’t just gonn’ blab about flowers to anyone. I don’t wann’ seem like a flim, ya know?”

“I ain’t gonna talk, I’ll even slide another honey cake in there.”

He thinks for a moment or two before nodding. You slide him the desert from today and he places it into his pocket. Leaning forward, you can smell sunshine and grass from him.

“What do you know about this?”

You had gently picked a single bud from your bouquet to show him. You weren’t positive if they were lilacs but they were purple and how many flowers were actually purple?

Humming for a moment, he responds. “. . .Syringa, if I remember correctly. Sold like hot cakes. There’s about several different kinds. This one here is just the smaller kind. If you tryna woo a lass, you call ‘em Lilacs. They got a strong scent though, so careful on the nose.”

Nodding, you ask, “does it have meaning?”

He shrugs, handing the bud back to you. “ Well, it could mean a lot of things. In the younger years, you’d give it to your lass to remind ‘em of your love. Like, a new beginning of love, remindin’ them of a new stage.”

He then looks you in the eye and glares. “Not a word about this hog wash or I’m stealing your pillow.”

You laugh, “you have my lips sealed, H.”

…

You hadn’t received any more bouquets and your pillows remained intact. New love? Who in the world could that be? You kept your eyes peeled for lurkers when you were on breaks and besides the common glare, nobody else seemed to be paying attention. So where did they come from? You had formed a vase with clay in order to keep your flowers and you were a little tickled to find that they lit up the room. Hmph.

…

Kuvira was two seconds away from suffocating herself. When did it get so hard to be a good person?

The amount of guilt that lifted from her shoulders from the trial was impalpable and she felt almost as confident as 4 years ago. The Beifongs were friendly and she was able to join and attend multiple events and she was slowly learning how to be a mentally stable person. She had started seeing someone in the city and once every two weeks they would take her apart and put her back together. She was getting used to it. Slowly.

But, spirits, did she miss you.

Something would happen during the day and she would turn to see you, see how your eyebrows would raise and how you would stifle your laughter behind your hands. And then she’d turn and you wouldn’t be there. It was total whiplash, and she wasn’t used to it just yet. Dr. Moko had yet to ask about the elephant-rhino in the room and Kuvira was waiting for the day where she would ask, “why did you attempt two murders, both of which were individuals you cared about?”

What a loaded question. Kuvira wondered how she got stuck with house arrest and not prison.

On one hand, it's an easy question. She thought she was doing a good thing. Bataar Jr. happened to be in the same place as the avatar and most of the resistance when she fired the spirit weapon and at the time it seemed like a good idea. (Not a good defense, she’s glad this question wasn’t raised during her trial). On the other hand. . .

Her soul would wither when she thought about. . .the. . kiss.

She felt that she was ignited and smothered at the same time. When she felt you melt into her arms, it was intoxicating. Your smell had surrounded her and you felt good in her hands. How she wanted to stay there forever. She wished that she could have stayed there forever. But the voice in her head was blood thirsty and on a victory roll and couldn’t be stopped. It was no excuse but the pain that Kuvira felt when she saw you slowly bleed out in her arms was so much that she zoned out and went on autopilot.

In one of the sessions she has with Dr. Moko, she mentions the voice with high reluctance. Dr. Moko says that the instinctual desires in her subconscious had risen to the challenge and took over, blocking out rational and emotional thought. This discussion had encompassed several sessions and because of that, Kuvira was able to gain control and become a little more independent with her thoughts. It gave her a sense of control, knowing that the Beifong family could trust her again, knowing that Korra wasn’t wrong when she said that they were alike. She had hope and all the split ends of her misdeeds were tying themselves together. But y/n. . .

You plagued her mind like a wine-stained carpet. So naturally, she (subtly) asks Su what happened after Korra stopped the spirit vine weapon. Su fills her in on the hospital visits, the trial, the physical therapy, the letters, everything.

That week Kuvira stomps into Dr. Moko’s office and says, “I need to talk about y/n.”

And so she does.

She sends you flowers.

Flowers?! She doesn’t have a flower bone in her body, why in the world did she pick out flowers? She even had a mind to pick out a specific type, lilacs: new love. She wanted to ask the florist for a bouquet that would convey “I’m sorry that I stabbed you, I am becoming a mentally stable person and I really wanna kiss you again and you are really pretty.”

Kuvira figures that lilacs are good enough.

. . .

It had been about two weeks since you received the flowers. They had started to wilt and you couldn’t help but get sad. You still had not figured out who sent them but a tiny part of you hoped that maybe she sent them. That she still thought of you while she’s learning how to be herself. It was selfish of you to think so, but you couldn’t help it. Kuvira was a major part of your life and to be without her made your heart ache. But you made do. After all, you still had 24 years of community service. . . you sigh. That doesn’t make it better.

You’re walking towards the park to take part in your therapy session. Several other people had come and gone and it was nice to see people learning how to overcome their struggles. You were growing stronger every day. Madam said that soon, you would be able to fully do the physical side of bending again. You could spar soon! You were starting to get antsy with all the chill meditation that Madam Jilpa was having you do. The bruising was gone on your side and you could extend your arms fully without twinges or aches.

You step onto familiar green grass and take off your shoes. Feeling the earth beneath your feet helped ground you when trying new therapy techniques that had you worried that your legs would suddenly give out on you. After placing your shoes next to your bag you look up and see your teacher and several others. There were more people today than usual which was odd. You couldn’t remember if there was a sudden climb of injuries in the last week but alas, more people meant less one-on-one time from the old lady herself. You walk over to a spot of grass and plop down, stretching your legs out in front of you. Planning on doing basic stretches you exhale-

“Need a partner?”

-and immediately inhale. You open your eyes and swirl around looking at the individual. Kuvira stands there relaxed, if not a little stiff, and is looking at you with her hands behind her back. The naive voice in your head screams in victory and you nod your head, still silent. Kuvira sits next to you and out of panic, you look around seeing everyone else doing the buddy system. Some were wearing the same clothing patterns as Kuvira meaning that they came over as a group. Meaning this wasn’t accidental. Meaning this was planned. Meaning this was the worst day of your entire life. Perhaps you should just run away and become a no name in the wilds, because then you’d be able to cope with the situation instead of just stewing in silence.

Kuvira places her knees together and leans forward, stretching her head towards her legs as she exhales. Knowing that Madam Jilpa would swat you, you slowly do the same. After you scootch further away, of course.

It’s painfully awkward. As Madam Jilpa begins, others join in with soft whispers and mutters of conversation. But the bubble that surrounds you is so tense that it doesn’t help the panic spasms that start to creep up your spine.

After coming back up from a lateral position, your eyes roam and they meet Kuvira’s. She’s looking at you fully, and not even Madam’s loud “Next!” breaks her attention. She’s looking at you and she stops her exercise to face you completely. Her eyes lower and she looks at your right side where your shirt had bunched up showing the scar tissue. Shocked, you pull your shirt down and shuffle a little farther away.

She speaks so softly you probably wouldn’t have heard her had you not been so attuned with her whole being.

“I’m sorry.”

You inhale and nod, bracing your attention forward and copying Madam’s next movement.

You try incredibly hard to ignore her stare for the rest of the session but it’s so heavy and so thick. At some point, Madam introduces a new position and spirits does it pull a muscle that you didn’t realise you had. It starts with your back on the ground, which is easy enough, and then you lift your hips and turn to the side. Keeping your shoulders to the ground, your head turns the opposite way. You flinch when it strains the muscles in your side. Your legs begin to quiver when a hand settles over your knee and brings your legs away from the ground, making the stretch more shallow. Your eyes see Kuvira as she holds your legs.

“Don’t do it too deep, you’ll sprain something. Start here.”

Following that, she lowers your legs again but into a place that doesn’t make you flinch in pain.

You missed her touch, you realise. You missed how softly she would hold you. Your eyes start to water when you realise how fucked up this is. She is right there in front of you, and all you can think about is how betrayed you felt. You never got the closure you needed from her and it’s being revealed as she helps you stretch. You’re silently crying while she places your legs down and helps you into a seated position.

“I should have visited you some time ago. I wanted to apologize to you, for wounding you and for leaving you alone when all you did was trust me. I misplaced your trust and I will forever be in your debt for doing so. I am incredibly sorry y/n,” she says as she looks into your eyes.

You sniffle as she grabs your hands. Squeezing them, you respond.

“Thank you, ‘Vee.”

And when you smile, the future seems a whole lot brighter.

#Kuvira #Kuvira x reader #Kuvira imagines #LOK imagines #legend of korra #LOK #I am a lesbian herald #my writing #new!

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chloelucia13 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 18: E Pluribus Unum

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x female!Henderson!reader

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: The horrid night at the hospital brought up many worries about you, especially for Jonathan. With the party’s advice, Nancy and Jonathan devise a plan to hopefully get you back to normal.

Word Count: 3720

Warnings: pretty angsty, a little fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of possession and lack of autonomy, mentions of death, different perspective in italics

A/N: We’re getting close to the end of season 3! I’m thinking I’m gonna space these episode rewrites between some extra scenes I couldn’t fit into the story and some individual one shots, but let me know what you think! As always, my in box and tag lists and requests are all open! Love you!

Tags: @just-my-fandom @nightbu-g @neemonroe

As Nancy and Jonathan watched the creature shift form and trickle through the vents in the door, panic flooded through their veins.

Jonathan contemplated running back to you and waking you up, to beg for you to take control of that thing and save Nancy. But as he thought about it, the image of your panicked face flashed in front of his eyes. He saw how fearful you were that you were losing control, that you might put everyone at risk.

Ultimately, he decided that you being asleep was for the better, but that didn’t make this situation any easier.

He heard a thud from inside the room as he gripped onto an oxygen tank and began to ram it into the door handle to try and break it off. After that proved fruitless, he shifted his efforts to the glass window in the door, watching the webbing cracks grow longer and longer but the glass still didn’t cave.

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar as a herd of footsteps approached Jonathan. Defeatedly, he stumbled back and tried to heave in a few breaths as Eleven stepped up to the door and tore it from its hinges. As the door crashed to the ground, the creature turned to screech at the group that was herded in the doorway.

“Jesus,” Mike gasped as Max hissed out a hushed “what the fuck” under her breath.

The creature rushed towards El, who was now a few steps inside the room, and she quickly swung her hand to the side, effortlessly tossing the creature against the wall. Then another wall. And then the ceiling.

Screams fell from El’s lips and the monster’s pincer-like jaws as it collided with the floor, though it quickly gained its composure and scrambled to its legs. It began to crawl forward with a vengeance, but Eleven threw her hands forward and sent the creature flying out the window.

As soon as they heard the splat of the creature hitting the pavement, Jonathan rushed into the room to check on Nancy while the party rushed down the stairs. Once she gave Jonathan a reassuring nod that she was, in fact, okay, they followed the party down the stairs and out to the parking lot where the creature laid.

The creature dissolved into that strange coagulation of guts and gore once more before inching over to a storm drain and dripping down into the tunnels.

Once there was to remnants of the creature lingering on the asphalt, Jonathan’s worry shifted to you, who was still on the abandoned floor of the hospital.

“Y/N,” he spoke, quickly turning on his heel and heading back inside.

“She’s in there?” Max asked incredulously, her eyes tracking Jonathan as he nodded quickly before disappearing behind the hospital doors.

His footsteps echoed throughout the stairwell as he rushed up the stairs two at a time, pushing through the door to the third floor. Panic was clouding his brain, hoping that you were still there and you hadn’t slipped away before he could try and help you. God, he just wanted to make you okay again. Make you you again.

As he rounded the corner to the room where you laid, he could barely even feel his feet from how overused they were. Nevertheless, he pushed forward, calling your name as he entered the room.

Luckily, you were still on the floor, and the inky veins seemed to have faded from your skin. You were so still, so motionless, though, as you laid on the cold linoleum that it worried Jonathan.

He gently knelt beside you and rolled you onto your back, one hand cupping your cheek while the other felt for a pulse on your neck. Once he felt the stead thrumming under his fingertips, he let out a sigh of relief. His hand left your cheek to brush a few strands of hair away from your face, letting his eyes soak in your relaxed features for only a moment before pulling you into his arms and lifting you off of the floor.

***

Your eyes began to flutter open from the movement, a small sigh falling from your parted lips. “Jonathan?” you whispered, panic beginning to seep into your veins.

He glanced down at you as he walked, each limping step making your head loll slightly. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hummed, clearly sensing the anxiety that had took hold.

Your gaze flickered over every bruise that marred his face. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I couldn’t take control. I couldn’t stop it.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. We’re gonna get this thing out of you.”

You shook your head fervently, gripping onto his shirt. “Jonathan, you can’t. I’m gonna hurt you. I don’t have enough energy to keep the flayer at bay.” To say that you didn’t have enough energy was a sever understatement, though. You felt as though you’d been awake for days and had just run a marathon. Your body was screaming for sleep, your eyelids already beginning to droop.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Jonathan, I don’t want to hurt you. Please.”

As he stepped out of the stairwell and through the exit of the hospital, he softly shushed you. Your mouth opened to argue, to beg for him to leave you and protect himself, but it fell shut along with your eyelids as the gentle rocking of his steps and his voice lulled you to sleep.

***

The drive to Hopper’s cabin was tense and silent, everyone in shock of what had just occurred. That, and the fact that they were harboring the leader of the flayer, the creature that was on a mission to kill.

Jonathan had volunteered to sit in the back of Nancy’s car with you on the ride there so that he could keep an eye on you, and though Nancy gave him a look of worry, he proceeded with his plan.

He sat with your limp body leaning against him, your head resting against his shoulder and your open mouth fanning your warm breath on his neck. With his girlfriend in the driver’s seat, his mind wandered back to the night before when your lips were pressed against his. He thought about the many times he had woken up with you in his bed, when both of you had fallen asleep to a mixtape that was still in the tape deck by morning. When the sunshine fell��perfectly on your face that had a ghost of a smile lingering on it. When your legs were tangled with his and your head was resting on his chest, warm huffs of air falling from your lips and mingling with his breath due to the close proximity.

He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt at ridding himself of the thoughts, though all he could see was that rare glimpse of peace that he’d witness when you slept.

With a huff, he looked down at your sleeping form and watched your shoulders rise and fall with steady breaths.

He wished he could see the flutter of your eyelids as you dreamt, but they were hidden behind a scrap of fabric as a precaution in case you had awoken.

Once Nancy parked in front of the cabin, Mike assisted Jonathan in carrying you out of the car and into the house. Gently, the two boys laid you on the bed of the spare bedroom that was tucked away in the very back corner of the cabin.

As Jonathan slowly closed the door behind him and locked it, Mike gave him a look. “What?” Jonathan whispered, tucking the key into his back pocket.

“You should probably tone down the heart eyes a little bit,” Mike advised, arching a brow at Jonathan.

Jonathan’s brows furrowed in bewilderment, glancing around quickly before stepping close to Mike and lowering his voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude, are you that oblivious?” Jonathan shrugged, and Mike let out a sigh. “It’s super obvious that you’re in love with Y/N-”

“I am not!”

Mike stared at him silently with a look of extreme doubt, and Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. “Just try to tone it down a bit, dude. For Nancy.”

Guilt washed over Jonathan’s features at the mention of Nancy. “I just... I don’t know what to do.”

Mike gave him a look of sympathy. “Whatever you do, just don’t hurt either of them.”

Jonathan nodded silently and the two boys parted ways.

***

You woke with a start, searching around the room with wide eyes and a racing heart. You shoved the heavy comforter off of your body and scrambled to the carpeted floor. “Hello?” you called out as you balled your fingers into fists.

The floor creaked with each step, but everything else was silent. “Hello? Where the fuck am I?” you called out once more, stepping up to the door and trying the doorknob. The door didn’t budge, and your breath new fell from your lips in short bursts as panic took over your body.

Your fists collided with the door a few times, letting out a scream of frustration when the wood didn’t give. “Goddammit, let me out!” You threw your body against the door, but the door still held strong. “What the fuck are you going to do with me! Let me out, you son of a bitch!”

***

On the other side of the door, everyone who had fell asleep in the living room woke up from the pounding and the screams. Each person glanced to someone else in the room, silently communicating their panic from the adverse reaction you were displaying to being confined into an unfamiliar room.

Jonathan and Nancy quickly rose from their spot on the couch, Jonathan signaling at everyone to stay quiet while Nancy grabbed onto the rope that they had found the night before. Silently, both teens approached the door with caution and light footsteps.

*** Your outburst easily tired you, and you stumbled back onto the bed with a huff, your gaze fixed in a glare on the door.

It seemed to be only moments later that the door creaked shut, two figures slipping through the opening before slamming it shut once more. The two people slipped into the crack of sunlight that shone through the blinds, revealing themselves to be Nancy and Jonathan.

“Get away from me,” you hissed, shuffling back into the furthest corner of the bed. The two exchanged a look before Jonathan turned his back and headed over to the desk in the room that was accompanied by a wooden chair.

Nancy gripped onto your ankles and pulled you out of the corner, dragging you against the sheets and causing them to bunch up underneath you. You let out a growl and kicked with all your might, but she had already tied a quick knot around your legs. With another harsh tug, she yanked you off of the bed and onto the floor. You let out a gasp of pain, feeling all of the air escape your lungs and leave you winded.

Jonathan pulled the chair away from the desk and set it behind you and Nancy before rushing over to Nancy and assisting her in lugging you onto the chair. With your free hands, you gripped onto Jonathan’s shirt and tugged with all your might in an attempt to pull him to the ground, but to no avail.

The two sat you in the chair, and Nancy quickly freed Jonathan’s shirt from your grip. A huff left your lips as Nancy yanked your arms behind your back, tying them together before knotting it to the chair. “Let me go,” you said simply, showing no emotion whatsoever. Jonathan clenched his jaw, handing Nancy the other set of ropes for your legs. “Oh, I’m getting the silent treatment now?” You shook your head, leaning forward as much as your binds allowed you. “I said. Let. Me. Go.”

“Just ignore her, Jonathan. It isn’t her,” Nancy said, finishing up the binds on your legs before pushing herself to her feet. “I’m gonna get the heaters.” With that, she left.

“Isn’t her? Hell, I’m just voicing her concerns, her needs. And what she needs is for you to let her go. You don’t wanna break her heart, do you, Johnny? Not like all the other times you had?”

“Shut up,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes trained on the blank wall behind you.

“Oh, he speaks!” You flashed him a sinister smirk. “And why exactly should I shut up? I’m just speaking the truth-”

“You don’t know the truth-”

“Oh, but I do. I have access to her thoughts, her memories, everything. Like I said, I am her. And god, did you hurt her. When you saved Nancy from the Upsidedown but not her. When you ditched her for Nancy all those times, so you could ‘help Nancy,’ when little miss Y/N was the one needing help all along.”

He gulped, clenching his fists.

“All the times she let you run off to do god-knows-what with Nancy while she watched the kids. Watched your own brother.”

“I said, shut up-”

“You know she wished she died that night, in the tunnels. She didn’t want to be the sad damsel in distress anymore, didn’t want to be saved.”

Tears began to cloud his vision, and he turned on his heel to face the opposite wall.

“She wished she was with you. Wished she was in Nancy’s spot, helping you and your brother. But no, she had to go with the kids and Steve, had to be on the brink of death. She had to wait for you to help her, the thing she dreaded the most. You seeing her weak.”

“You’re lying. S-She doesn’t feel that way-”

“Then why do you feel so guilty? It’s tangible, I can almost taste it.” You leaned back, eyes trained on the back of his head. “And then you got a job at the Post with little Miss Nancy, leaving Y/N to work at the public pool with Billy. Leaving her to get possessed by the flayer. By me. Can’t you see, Johnny boy? This is all because of you. All her pain, her aching, because of you.” You chuckled softly, a sinister sound that reverberated in your chest. “Because of you, she was left vulnerable, open to being taken by me. I could tell, no matter how many times she cried for you, for anyone to help her, she needed this. She needed this little… Boost of confidence, let’s say. A lack of a filter.”

He sniffled, shaking his head softly. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you do. Because you know it’s all true.” You wiggled your fingers and toes, trying to get some circulation back into them. “You know that saying, sober thoughts are drunk actions? Think of me as the alcohol. I take her over, get rid of her filter, and let the truth run wild.”

He spun back around and stepped towards you, crouching down so he was eye-level with your face.

“That’s it. Look at what you did to her. Look at the scars.” You pursed your lips, smirking slightly. “She scares people. She doesn’t want to go outside, doesn’t want to be a spectacle, a walking freak show.”

“She’s not-”

“Did she ever tell you that she has to wear glasses because of her eye?” He shook his head. “She’s too scared to wear them around you. Doesn’t want to seem weird. She has constant headaches because of it, because she can barely see out of her one eye without them.”

His lower lip quivered slightly, his hand inching up to cup your face.

“She can hear you, Johnny. She can see you.” Another bone-chilling laugh. “She’s begging me to stop, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Screw you.”

The door squeaked open and shut, Nancy stepping in with a couple more heaters. “Sorry it took so long, I had to dig them out,” she explained, stopping when she took notice of the odd scene in front of her.

“Good. Let’s get this out of her,” He sighed, standing up straight and helping Nancy plug everything in.

You sat silently, a near-pout on your face as the pair worked on plugging in the multitude of heaters that Nancy had found. “I didn’t know you wanted me gone so badly,” you sighed, giving Jonathan a puppy-dog-eye look as he risked a glance at you.

The room already began to feel at least ten degrees warmer as all of the heaters got to work, and you glanced down in disdain at the sweater and jeans you wore. Nancy and Jonathan took a seat on the bed, their eyes trained on you as if you were a caged animal.

“So what did you guys do the last time you watched someone get exorcised?” you hummed, that fake smile settling on your lips once more. “Did you makeout, maybe sneak off to do god-knows-what together? It seems that that’s what you both are best at when people need your help.”

Nancy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?” she whispered, clearly bewildered by your bold statement.

You cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence. “Don’t you remember? Last year, you and Jonathan had gone off and disappeared while little Will was basically on his deathbed. All he needed was an older sibling, someone to comfort him, and Y/N, had to take up that role because you two were too busy.”

“We were trying to get justice for Barb-”

“And as a result you almost got everyone killed.”

“Shut up!” she screamed as she shot up from her seat and leaned close to you, close enough for you to see the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “If you say another word, I’m duct taping your mouth shut.”

You clenched your jaw and stared her in the eye, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. Jonathan reached forward and gripped onto Nancy’s forearm, prompting her to look back at him. They exchanged a glance and she contemplated their silent conversation for a moment before settling back down onto the bed.

The room grew warmer and warmer and the tension grew thicker and thicker. Everyone had stayed silent during that time, but that didn’t mean that you were shooting glares at the pair the whole time.

But that heat definitely began to worm its way between you and the flayer, acting like a knife between flesh and meat as it slowly cut away the flayer’s vicelike grip on you. However, as the flayer’s hold on you began to slip away, the days of sleep you’ve missed started to catch up with you.

Your eyelids drooped as sweat trickled down your face, your breaths ragged and hitched from the dry heat and lack of water. “Jonathan, Nancy, please just let me go,” you cried, weakly wiggling your hands and feet in their restraints.

“Y/N, you know we can’t,” Nancy answered, looking away from you so she wouldn’t feel guilt from the state you were in.

Nancy and Jonathan were suffering too, sweat making their clothes cling to them like a second skin. But they knew that if you were stuck in this miserable heat, they had to be too. They had to save you, no matter what it took.

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a tired cry of frustration. “Please! I-I can take control of the mind flayer again and I can keep it from you guys! I can kill it! Please, just let me go!”

Nancy could tell that Jonathan was weighing the outcomes of each option, clearly caving in from the guilt and the heat. “Y/N, we need to get this thing out of you,” Nancy spoke up. “You only have so much control. We can help you.”

“You can’t help me!” you screamed, startling the pair and making them recoil slightly. “Just let me go! Let me go, you sons of bitches!” You began to violently thrash in the chair, prompting the two to get up and try to hold you down. Your screams grew louder when the attempted to restrain you, and they shared a horrified look when those familiar inky veins began to snake up into your skin.

Your strength grew as the flayer slowly slipped into power as a last ditch effort to continue inhabiting its host, and with one quick yank of your arm, the binds snapped from your wrist. Nancy scrambled to pin your wrist down, but once your other hand freed itself from its confines, both Nancy and Jonathan knew that their efforts were fruitless.

Jonathan rushed to help Nancy, both of them wrestling to keep you restrained while you fought against them with all your might. Your sweat-slicked skin seemed to prove advantageous as you quickly slipped from their grip, yanking the binds around your ankles and breaking them free.

The pair shared a panicked glance as you rose from the chair and shoved them both off of you. “Leave me alone,” you growled, your voice uncharacteristically deep as those black veins protruded from your skin. “Or there will be consequences.”

Jonathan hurried over to you and gripped onto your wrist, giving one last effort to try and help. That clearly was a mistake, though, as you snatched your arm back and landed a quick right jab to his jaw. He stumbled back and clutched his jaw, but as he looked up at you, a flash of guilt and fear could be seen in your eyes. It left as soon as it came, and he hopelessly watched as you slammed your fist into the window and escaped through the newly made exit.

***

Your eyes drooped with exhaustion as you sat on the landing of the stairs, head leaning against the railing as you stared out at the crowd of the flayed that were neatly lined up in single file rows.

“That-that girl,” he spat, pacing back and forth behind you. “She caused all of this.”

You nodded slowly, your face blank and emotionless.

“But we’ll win. Soon, we’ll talk control. We’ll end her, them, everyone. Everything will be ours.”

“When?” you hummed, slowly lifting your head from the railing to look up at him.

“Soon.”

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ichorai · 4 years ago

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cellmates ; one ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 3.1k

warnings / includes ; medieval au, blood and grime and death and everything in between rip, wooyoung being handsome despite being in a filthy cell djkdfj, wooyoung being a smartass, reader being petrified half the time lol, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; i’ve been meaning to write a medieval au for the longest time bcs im an absolute sucker for them and i finally got around to writing part one !!! pls be patient for part two !! i hope yall enjoy :3

cellmates masterlist.

The jail cell was cold. You shivered violently, breath misting in front of you as you blew out a tired sigh. They had stripped you of all your clothes except a thin beige tank top (that had actually once been white), and ripped tights. Dried blood matted your hair to your forehead, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. It was too damn cold.

You found yourself wishing that you hadn’t stolen that necklace off of the innocent little princess. The silver glinting against her pale collarbones were just too enticing, the angry grumble of your stomach far too loud. That much silver would’ve cost a fortune; you wouldn’t have had to worry about food for years. Unfortunately, the guard caught you before you had time to make your escape, by effectively knocking a heavy baton over your head.

And the result of your desperate endeavor? A small, icy jail cell in the farthest and darkest corner of the dungeons. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen the sun.

A life sentence for attempting to ‘harm’ the princess. Oh please, all you really wanted was to go to bed without your belly twisting painfully in hunger. At least they weren’t barbaric enough to hang you for that.

The thought had tremors running up your spine. Or perhaps it was the cold.

A dim amber light appeared from the corner of your eyes, echoing footsteps gradually getting louder with each thump. Was it dinner time already? You hadn’t even eaten yesterday’s yet.

The same guard you’d seen just about a thousand times by now appeared in front of the frigid metal bars, melting candle in hand. Grizzly beard blanketing his chin and jaw, faint scar mark running over his left cheekbone, and slanted eyes the color of the princess’ silver necklace. A daily reminder of your worst mistake, it would seem.

He muttered something unintelligible before shoving a tray through the narrow slot, wintry water sloshing about in the small wooden cup with the same chunk of stale bread on the side that always tasted like metal.

How delicious. The cold had numbed you to the point where hunger was the least of your problems.

You remembered when you had first gotten here, croaking out a wispy ‘thank you’ to the guard whenever he had given you your food, hoping that he’d take sympathy and give you a bit more, or maybe even get you a blanket. You were foolish back then, you thought solemnly, curling up tighter and burying your face in between your knees.

Perhaps one of the worst things possible about being in jail was that you had absolutely nothing to do. Sometimes you would try to exercise to keep your blood running through your body and make sure your muscles hadn’t frozen over, but exhaustion constantly hung above you like a stormy cloud. More oftenly, you would make up fantastical stories including dragons and elves and faeries. But after hundreds (or maybe it was just around twenty, but who was counting?) of different stories, your creativity would run short and you would find yourself pausing mid-story, trailing off into a disappointing end of ‘and they lived till they died’.

Turns out you weren’t going to be bored alone, at least.

You had been in a fitful slumber when you heard the footsteps approach. That was strange, usually there’d only be the one guard to deliver your measly dinner.

Curious eyes grew wide when you took sight of two guards holding up an unconscious man, the toes of his worn leather boots dragging against the damp stones of the dungeon ground.

What you wouldn’t give for a nice pair of leather boots. Your toes twitched in your worn socks at the thought.

They began stripping him of his clothes, much like they had done to you in the beginning, grunts of exertion leaving them in misty huffs. They left shortly after, grumbling about being ‘fuckin’ cold’. As if they had any right to complain.

In the dim light of the candles, you could barely make out what the new prisoner looked like. He was slumped up against one of the icy stone walls, dark hair tied into a short ponytail. A low groan escaped the man, foot twitching as he slowly aroused from unconsciousness.

“Fuck,” His voice came out hoarse and raspy. He pushed against the floor to prop himself up at a better angle. More curses left his lips in a rapid flurry. You watched in timid fascination as he raised a pale hand to dab against his forehead, hissing when he pulled away with crimson staining his skin.

Looking upwards, he finally caught your curious gaze.

The two of you stared at one another for a second before he huffed, reaching up to his head once more. This time, his fingers didn’t only pull away with blood, but with a thin hair pin that glinted against the candle’s small flame.

You hadn’t noticed that your mouth was hanging slightly open when he struggled to his feet, limbs shaking with effort and cold.

And he started picking the lock, stopping every minute or so to blow his breath onto his quickly numbing fingers.

After less than ten minutes, the frozen bars swung open with a rusty creak.

At that point, you yourself had gotten up, eyes widening. You shuffled closer to your own locked bars. It was as if the man had forgotten you were there, flinching when he turned and saw you pressed up against your cell.

“Don’t leave me here,” You whispered, starting to feel the familiar feeling of desperation clawing at your throat.

For a second, he looked conflicted. A hard, determined film passed over his eyes and he tore his gaze away.

“Sorry,” Was all he said.

And he left, just as quickly as he had come.

Strings of foul curses left his mouth once he was dragged back. And this time, he was far bloodier than before. He barely looked like the same person.

You had to hold in a breath as they threw his limp body back into the cell, one of them spitting at his feet. Grimacing, you looked away and scowled.

Perhaps if he had let you out as well, the both of you would’ve been able to escape.

Ten minutes after the guards had left, the man across from you reached behind his back to pull something out. He didn’t have another hair pin, did he? Would he let you out this time?

Probably not, you thought bitterly.

The object he pulled out was small and round, a shiny red ball that seemed to glisten beneath the candlelight.

It made a resonating thud against the stone of the cell, echoing down the halls.

And he did it again. And again. And three, four, ten times more.

“Please stop,” You found yourself saying, a headache brewing behind your temple. But your voice was too soft, drowned out by the incessant bouncing of his rubber ball.

Downing what was left in the damp wooden, you mustered the courage to croakily shriek, “Stop! Please, stop!”

Startled by your sudden noise, he hadn’t been able to catch the ball’s last bounce, and crimson streaked past as it hit the wall behind him, ricocheting past the jail bars and out into the hallway. You watched silently as it rolled away, until it was far out of your sight.

“Bitch,” You heard him mutter under his breath.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise as you sneered at him, “You’re a fool, you know. Thinking you could escape a place like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows raised while he shuffled closer, pressing his pale face against the cold bars. Now that he was out of the shadows, you managed to get a proper look of his face. He was all bone and skin, dark hair grown a little too long, hazel eyes glinting along with the dim flames. “At least I managed to get out of my cell. That’s probably more than you’ve ever done.”

If he was trying to pick a fight with you, it wouldn’t work.

“What’s the point, anyways? There’s only so much out there for people like us.”

“People like us… ?”

Your eyes darted to him, and you immediately averted your gaze. It’d been a long time since anyone had properly looked at you. Perhaps under all the blood and grime, he’d actually be quite handsome.

“Commoners, peasants. We grow up stupid, work until our fingers bleed, and then die from a disease because we don’t have the money for a healer.”

A low rumble that could pass as a laugh worked its way out of him, “You’re telling me you would rather stay locked up in here than back outside? You don’t want to feel the sun on your face, the taste of sweet fruits, the warmth of another human being?”

“Of course I do,” You retorted. “I’m just saying that it’s pointless.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, “How long have you been here?”

“Too long to keep track.”

At this point, you couldn’t really tell whether it was refreshing to talk to someone after so long, or just plain annoying. He stayed silent for a moment, before speaking up once more.

“What got you here?”

You huffed. There was no harm in telling him, right?

“I ripped a priceless necklace off of the princess because I was hungry.”

It was as if his volume tripled when he yelped, “You’re Y/N L/N?!”

How he had that much energy after getting beaten up twice, was still a mystery to you.

“The one and only.” You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. It seemed that you were quite famous in the outside world.

“That’s amazing,” He breathed out, eyes wide as he leaned further into the bars. “My name’s Wooyoung. I’m your new cellmate.”

Your eyes flickered to his once more. If you were going to be stuck here with him, might as well get to know him a little better.

“I’m not your cellmate,” You deadpanned, despite Wooyoung’s disappointed pout. “You’d need to be in the same cell as me to be my cellmate.”

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug.

“So why are you here?” Part of you was afraid of what he was going to say. He didn’t really seem to strike you as someone who’d do anything seriously terrible… right?

“I… I just threw one or two punches at the crown prince, is all. And maybe a kick to the groin. And gave him a couple broken ribs.” He laughed a little at that last part, as if the memory amused him.

“You what?”

Scoffing, Wooyoung flicked his hair out of his eyes, “I think you heard me perfectly clear, sweetheart.”

A strange feeling blossomed in your stomach. You shuffled a bit closer to your own bars, until the light hit your face.

“Was it worth it?”

Wooyoung paused at the unexpected question.

“Yeah, I would do it again. A million times over.” It was the first time he looked away, a distant glaze over his eyes. “He was touching a servant girl and she was begging him to stop. But he didn’t. So I intervened.”

A palpable silence laid over the two of you, thick and heavy.

“Good,” Was all you said. “I’m going to sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s morning.”

You ignored him. Time didn’t matter anymore, not to you. Soon enough, he’d stop caring as well.

Hours and days melted into weeks and months, along with the frost on the bars and the icicles hanging off the ceilings.

At least it wasn’t cold anymore. Everything was wet.

“Okay… would you rather live knowing how you die or live forever?” Wooyoung asked in queer tone, laying down on the ground with his bare back pressed against the damp stone.

You bit into a chunk of stale bread, pausing to chew around the hard crust before swallowing, “No one wants to live forever.”

“Rich people do,” He murmured, flipping over onto his stomach to do some push-ups.

You averted your eyes. He was right; if you were rich, you would’ve probably chosen the latter option too.

“I’ll choose to live forever when I get out of this goddamn cell. But for now, we’re sticking with knowing how I die,” The raven-haired man huffed out through each strenuous push-up. He’s been getting weaker and weaker by the day, living off of nothing but crispy bread and metallic water and the occasional measly slice of dry apple.

“You’re not getting out,” You scoffed. “We’re not getting out. Why do you keep saying that we will?”

Wooyoung falls flat onto his stomach, blowing his hair away from his eyes in frustration, “And why do you keep saying that we won’t? Do you really think we’re going to die here?”

Throwing your hands up into the air, mouth full and bread crumbs rimming your lips, you nodded vehemently, “Yes! Look around us, Wooyoung. How on Earth would you plan on getting out? I’ve been trying for forever before you came around. I’m still here.”

“Yeah, but that was back when I wasn’t here. Now I am.”

“That’s absolutely great, genius. But guess what? We’re still stuck here!”

Wooyoung scowled at your salty remark. He crawled closer to the bars looking down the hallway to make sure no guards were near.

Glancing back to you, he whisper-yelled, “I have a plan.”

“That’s a stupid plan,” You sneered, deadpanning.

The man across from you rolled his eyes, “It’s the only one we’ve got.”

“You do know they’ll find out eventually, right? We can’t just go back to our normal lives.”

“Then let’s run away.” His gaze bore into you as you felt yourself flush heavily. “You and me. We can sneak our way onto a fishing boat, sail off to someplace… not here.”

A shiver ran up your arms, gooseflesh prickling your skin, “Stop.” You mumbled. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

Wooyoung grasped the bars tightly, knuckles turning white, “Y/N, listen to me. We can do it. I swear, I’ll get you out of here.”

It was stupid, you knew it was. But you couldn’t help the small spark of hope flare in the middle of your chest, heart pumping just a tad quicker at his words. Hope was an intoxicating drug; you either get sucked into some sort of deluded fantasy, or live without the illusions of false happiness.

However, The words left you before you even had a chance to hesitate. “You promise?”

“I swear on my next slice of dried apple.” He said, eyes twinkling with excitement behind the shaggy, overgrown hair.

“Okay.” You breathed out, somewhat satisfied. The dull ache in your spine was ignored as you slumped against the stone wall, closing your eyes and imagining what outside was like. All you could recall about outside was how terrible it was. Of course, not as bad as being in here, but not much to look forward to.

Cracking an eye open, you glanced to Wooyoung, who had curled up into himself in the corner of his cell, slightly obscured by the shadows.

Life outside seemed better when you imagined yourself with Wooyoung.

“Remember the plan?”

Wooyoung snorted, rolling his eyes, “How many times have you asked me that now?”

You scowled, “Just making sure you won’t mess anything up. Can you really guarantee you’re strong enough to knock him out?”

Biting down on his lip, he shrugged in a nonchalant manner, “I’ll try my best. And if that’s not enough, well… it was nice meeting you.”

The two of you waited in tense silence for a couple minutes, the expected thudding of boots coming down to give the two of you your meals for the day. The familiar grey eyes of the guard swept over the two of you, bending down your cell first to shove the tray through the narrow slot like he had hundreds of times before.

Then, he turned to Wooyoung.

“What’s on the menu today, sir?”

Stormy eyes narrowed, the guard’s nose wrinkled in distaste, “Th’ same shit you eat every day.” His gravelly voice rumbled, clearly not used to prisoners being able to talk, much less form coherent sentences. “It’s what criminals like you deserve.”

A gasp of mock-offense left Wooyoung in the most dramatic manner possible, “Why, if stopping a rapist from raping is worse than being a killer and killing, then I must be the worst criminal alive.”

“You better shut your mouth before I get half the mind to carve your tongue out for you.” The guard spat, nearing closer towards the bars menacingly, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t below leaving a prisoner bleeding and tongueless.

Wooyoung did nothing but raise an eyebrow, “Oh, come now! I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of kills. Especially when you swore an oath to protect a murderous king!”

Your eyes widened slightly; you had no idea he would go as far as to claim treason.

The guard, however, cackled the ugliest laugh you’d ever heard. “You seem really not to like your tongue, boy. Only, for that comment, they’ll be taking your head along with it.”

It all happened so quickly, you wouldn’t even have the time to scream if you wanted to.

Just as the guard leaned closer tauntingly, nose almost brushing against the rusty metal bars, Wooyoung grabbed the front of the guard’s steel collar, yanking him forward into the metal columns with all of his might.

A sickening crack echoed across the stone.

It happened again, and again, and three more times after that. Wooyoung was panting, eyes wild.

“Is he dead?” You craned your neck to try to get a good look, but it was too dark to make out much of anything.

“No. He’ll wake up with a nasty concussion in a couple hours, give or take.”

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” You asked, heart pounding far too loudly in your ribcage. The faint sound of jingling almost had you bursting into tears of joy. He had the keys.

A small, non-committal hum emitted from Wooyoung’s cell. “You learn from dreaming about all the different ways you could’ve done that to the crown prince. And thankfully, I got the chance.” Suddenly, Wooyoung appeared in front of your cell, a ring of small keys hanging from his pointer finger, the widest grin spread across his face. “Told you I’d get you out, didn’t I?”

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quixotic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Letting Loose

Song inspo: fuck away the pain/one night stand — divide the day

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and kicking him out you begrudgingly head out for work at the bar. After talking it up with Q for a while, you decide tonight’s your night of fun and you invite him over, he gladly accepts and is willing to do anything to help relieve your tension.

Warning: Kinky smut ahead!!!

———————————————————

“Get the FUCK out of MY house.” I threw his suitcase of clothes out of the second story window and watched it fall onto the lawn with a loud thump that echoed through the whole neighborhood. I turn around to look at Devin and I glared at him. He smirked and walked towards me with open arms.

“C’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” He places his lips on mine and I shove him off, reel back my hand, and give him a hearty open palm slap across his cheek. “Ow! What the hell!?”

“First off: don’t ‘baby’ me, i’m over the charms. Second: The HELL do you mean you didn’t mean it? Did you not think when you ‘accidentally’ slipped your dick into her? Huh, Devin?” He continues rubbing his cheek and I feel proud of myself knowing that’ll leave a nice mark for him to explain. “I am dead serious this time. Get out, stay out. I see you back here EVER again and i’m calling the cops.” I point to the door for him to leave the room. With a moment’s hesitation he finally leaves, I watch from the window as he picks up the suitcase and drag it all the way to his car like the sad sap he is. His guilt tripping won’t work on me this time, and i’m pretty sure he notices that because he finally turns around to look at me through the window with a scowl.

“You’re a needy bitch. No one will ever put up with you like I did!” He yells before stepping into his car. I didn’t say anything back, just slammed the window closed and turned my back. He wasn’t worth another breath out of me. I slump down onto the bed face down and scream into the pillow. I don’t understand how I forgave him for cheating on me last time, I should’ve known he would have done it again. I was so naïve and stupid.

I continue mentally beating myself up and seethe in my own rage. My skin feels like it’s boiling and I have a tension in my head that feels like there’s a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. I don’t know whether or not I want to murder someone, break something, or just find a stranger and fuck them out of spite of my now tarnished relationship.

“Fuck.” I said out loud as I realized I had work tonight down at the bar at 3, I look over at the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 in red neon numbers. I really don’t want to go especially with the range of emotions I was experiencing, but I had already called out of work so many times this month. If I called out one more time my boss would either hate me or fire me, I really don’t need the second one happening especially because now i’ll be taking on the rent by myself. Even with Devin around, he only paid for the bare minimum so not too much would be changing except a few additional shifts down at the bar. The epiphany of his bullshit only made me even angrier.

I soaked in the tub for a bit to get cleaned up for work and ease my tension just a bit. I take in the scent of lavender and carnations, close my eyes, and gently float my hands through the sudsy waters. It helped a little, but I could feel my nerve endings firing off in annoyance still feeling ready to pounce at any moment. Anything happens at work tonight and I won’t hesitate to give someone a piece of my mind, i’m so not in the mood to be dealing with bullshit of any kind.

I drive over to work blasting some metal music to try and release some of my anger by screaming along. Once I step through the door, I can already get a sense of how this shift is gonna go. It wasn’t a negative energy, but it wasn’t a positive energy either. It was just gonna be the same old same old kind of shift where nothing really happens. Though it’d be boring, i’d rather have that over a high energy night.

“Girl, maybe it’s just me, but your RBF is looking extra intimidating today.” Trin says from behind the counter. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’m not rolling my eyes at you. It’s fucking Devin.” Her eyes light up and her eyebrows flick up.

“Please tell me...”

“Yup. I’m over it. This time for good, i’m tired of being his play thing.” She gives me a big hug and is jumping a little as she holds me.

“Finally! He looked like he was dipped in fryer grease anyway. Now you just need to get something else good, and you know that one regular we have is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” She taps me with her elbow a couple of times and I laugh it off. I know who exactly she’s talking about, but I try to avoid giving her the satisfaction of giving out his name as I continue washing glasses behind the counter. “Quinn! That’s his name!” So much for avoiding that.

“His name’s actually Brian, but Quinn suits him better. Yeah he’s cute but why would he want me? Also doesn’t it seem kind of bad to rebound like that immediately after throwing my ex out?” I wasn’t going to deny that Q was cute, but i’d just feel bad using him as a rebound.

“Well first off, I think you’re a smoking hot piece of work that was too god for your ex. Second, you don’t seem sad about losing him, just mad that he was a dick that wasted your time and energy. Why not live for yourself a little and let loose?” She shrugs and goes back to serving drinks and making small talk with customers. She’s kind of right, I didn’t miss Devin and I wasn’t sad about losing him, I was just sad that I willingly allowed myself to be played and manipulated. Her words lingered in my ears as I continued working.

The afternoon slowly bleeds into the evening, it’s Tuesday so all our patrons are taking things slow and easy. It was a perfect pace for me to work at. Not too much work and bullshit, but just enough stuff to do to keep my mind occupied. Trin eventually clocks out for the evening and in her place one of our newbies, Trey, clocks in. It was perfect because I made him do most of the work to get a handle of how the ropes work in the bar. Seniority had its perks. I gossip with a few bar goers as they tell me their stories of their shit office jobs or complain about the typical New York traffic.

“There’s my second favorite bartender!” I turn my head as a deep voice thick with an accent diverts my attention away from one of my customers. There was Q, sitting himself at the counter smiling like a goof ball to me.

“Second favorite is all I get Quinn?” I say with a twinge of sass in my voice. “Shot of Jameson i’m guessing for the big boy to start off his night?” I lean over the bar and I notice his eyes take a quick peek at my slightly exposed cleavage that spilled from my tank top.

“You know it! Besides, you know my buddy Sal will always be at the top as far as bartending goes.” I get his drink ready and slide it over to him. He raises the glass to me with a smirk before he downs it in a swift gulp. I unknowingly stare at him with a slight glimmer in my eyes and he quickly catches me. “Staring’s rude y’know, sweetheart. Could I just get a nice brew also, please?” He says sliding the shot glass back over to me.

“Could say the same for you, Quinn.” I retort back going to clean up some of the dishes and serve up other drink to the few others surrounding him at the bar. I pour him his drink and set it down in front of him with a slight sneer.

“Someone’s on edge today. Been coming here long enough to know when something’s up with you.” The ring band he wears on his middle finger taps against his glass as he awaits a response to his query. My emotions are showing a bit too much tonight and I loathe myself for it, I always held myself to a standard to keep my private life hidden and not allow it to affect my performance at work.

“That obvious?” I say feeling guilty that I may have unintentionally taken some anger out on him. He chuckles a bit and leans in closer, resting his elbows on the counter top in anticipation to see if i’ll play along any further. “I’ll spare you the woeful details of my pitiful heartbreak if I can even call it that. Long story short: Boyfriend cheated and I got his sorry ass out of there.” He has a shocked look on his face and seems as though maybe he shouldn’t have asked. I cackle at his reaction.

“And you still came to work? That’s harder than any shot of whiskey i’ve ever done.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he sits back to process the information. I stare at his arms and his tattoos and his thick fingers. And I, for a second, imagined what it felt like if he held me close with those arms, what they’d feel like gripping my waist. Maybe Trin was right, maybe I need to let loose and have some fun all for myself.

“You know, I may be mad, but i’m sure as hell happy i’m not with him anymore. I’ve been over him for a while to tell you the truth, love was long out the door. He was so restricting it was ridiculous. Can’t wear this, can’t go there, blah blah blah. Don’t know why I put up with it for as long as I did or why I stuck around knowing I didn’t even love him anymore.” I say recalling all the stupid rules Devin had for me. I couldn’t wear anything ‘too revealing’ because it’ll attract ‘negative attention’ and he’ll be ‘embarrassed.’ I couldn’t go to certain places without him, it was all so manipulative because he could do whatever he wanted. If it wasn’t the cheating, the stupid rules would have been the next thing to make me want to dismember him.

“Let me buy you a shot sweetheart.” He slides some money over the counter and I graciously accept, i’d love a little buzz to get through this shift. “Cheers to getting him out of your life. You didn’t deserve that shit. No one does.” Sympathy. That’s something I haven’t seen a guy display in a while towards me. He raises his glass to me with a soft look in his puppy dog eyes and it made my heart feel full. I smile and raise my shot glass before downing the liquid that burns my esophagus as it travels down.

The night carries on, Q and I continue hitting it off and chat the night away in the dreadfully slow bar. We both get bolder and bolder and a little more flirtatious as the time passes. When I look over to the clock overhead, I notice my time in the bar is close to its expiration and even closer to a sense of newfound freedom. I eye Q up and down and I hear Trin’s voice echoing in the back of my head: let loose a little.

“So, Quinn, I’d love to continue this conversation and hang with you more after my shift is over. Maybe go to my place?” We both know where an invitation like this could lead, I chew on my bottom lip a little hoping to he says the words I want so badly to hear tonight. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and then I knew my wish was going to be granted.

“Thought you’d never ask sweetheart.” His fingers trace the rim of his empty glass and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. Every time he called me ‘sweetheart,’ it hit me in a whole new way. I go to clock out of work and wish an easy night to my coworkers before officially heading out. Q follows me out and we walk towards the parking lot.

“Shall I drive? I only had one shot and it has long worn off already.” I offer to Q. He hadn’t had much to drink, only a shot or two and a beer and I know he can handle his liquor pretty well, but i’d rather play it safe and be the designated driver for the evening.

“That would be much appreciated since i’m a little intoxicated, also because I have no clue where you live.” He jokes around. We both hop into my car and my music blasts through the speakers. It wasn’t just any music either, it was my Slipknot CD, the one I listen to when i’m especially mad. We both jump at the sudden cacophony of noise and I quickly bolt to turn down the volume. “That tells me exactly how pissed off you were earlier!” He chuckles and I cover my mouth in shame, speechless that the guy i’m trying to swoon just heard the hell that I listen to.

“This is the only thing I have in, I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel my face turning red.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind and i’d love to listen to something a little different for once.” I turn the volume back on and we start to head over to my house. The whole way there as we talked about nonsense, I could see Q out of the corner of my eye head banging to the music, and it eased my nerves in a weird way. Sharing music with someone is a deep form of intimacy to me, seeing someone enjoy what I play is something that fills me with no greater joy. As I catch occasional glances at him, the way the street lights illuminated his face and framed his features just made him seem even more attractive.

We pull into my driveway and I guide Q into my now quiet home. He seats himself on my couch and I mix up a glass of rum and coke for the two of us. I hand him his drink and take a seat right next to him. It was then where he really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of my recent relationship status update.

“So he had rules for what you could wear, where you could go, what you could do? Sounds like the jabberings of someone who’s insecure if you ask me.” He sips his drink. The amount of disgust Q has for the actions of my ex is so reassuring that i’m not crazy.

“Had I not been working tonight, I would have broken every single stupid rule he had for me. Especially the one about what I can wear, that one bugged me the most.” I had a whole outfit saved hidden away in the closet that I had kept secret. I had a sneaking feeling that things would have come to a messy end and bought it out of spite.

“I would kill to see you in it.” Seems as though he’s following in suit with my energy and he’s on the same page as I am. He looks me up and down and slides a hand on my thigh, I already feel my motor revving to go.

“Why leave it to the imagination when I could just give you a show?” His eyes flicker like a candle and I can feel his desires radiating off of his warm skin. I quickly hop up and disappear into my room. In my drawers I find my black lace lingerie that framed and clung to my body in the perfect ways sensing the outfit wouldn’t stay on for too long. Next in the closet I fish around for the wine red velvet halter crop top and the black pencil skirt I had stashed away. As the cherry on top on completed it all with the black platform heels I had.

I step down stairs and Q quietly takes in the view. I slowly walk closer towards him and stop as soon as i’m in front of him between his spread legs.

“Didn’t you know staring is rude, Quinn?” He’s clearly taken aback and I can see him struggling to keep it together. I straddle him and his hands feel over the curve of my ass and venture towards my hips where they rest. He stares in awe at the goods I have on display until he makes eye contact. Those chocolate brown eyes could tell a whole story, and I could never get tired of it. I bring our faces closer and lock our lips together in a deep kiss. “If we’re gonna be having fun tonight, we’re playing by my rules tonight.” I say in a dominating tone. It was my turn to have my way.

“If that’s what you want sweetheart, use me as you wish, call the shots tonight.” I devilishly smile as the sinful thoughts and ideas begin to pour into my head and I feel myself growing wet at the scenarios that play in my mind. Without another word, I take Q by his hand and drag him upstairs to the bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he throws his shirt off.

“So what are your limits Quinn? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded? Teased?” I say as my finger tips trace along his inner thighs, he groans a little at my touch.

“Kinky tonight aren’t we?” I remove my shirt and skirt to reveal the lingerie hidden underneath and go to grab some special items from deep within the closet. “I can handle anything you give me. But just in case, my safe-word is pumpernickel.” I stop in my tracks and try to stifle a laugh.

“Interesting word, but I will be sure to remember it. Now let’s get you out of those restricting pants.” I tug at his belt and remove his pants to reveal the tent that was hidden in his boxers. I rub him through the thing fabric and watch as he screws his eyes shut. “Oh you have no idea what you’re in for now Quinn. This hard already and i’ve barely even touched you.” I bring out the scarf I had and tie his wrists together and tie them up to the head board of the bed, leaving Q vulnerable and open. As a final piece, I place the blindfold over his eyes.

“I’m not allowed to see that smoking hot bod of yours? Now this is torture.” For a moment I look over his body, needy with lust filled desire and it’s eye candy to me. He restrains against the bondage around his wrists and his muscles flex for a moment and I feel myself pulsate at the sight. I lean in close to his ear, the fun begins now.

“Oh darling, there’s much more coming to you.” I crawl between his legs and rub over his sizable bulge and watch as his breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation. “You tell me when you’re close no matter what, if you cum too soon you’ll be punished. Don’t be afraid to make as much noise as you want, i’d love to hear what dirty noises come out of you. Never be afraid of using your safe-word, I may be in control but your well being still matters to me. Got it?” He whimpers underneath my touch.

“Yes, please continue it feels so fucking good.” I smirk as his mouth falls open letting his steamy hot breath escape. I lay a few kisses above the band of his boxers before taking the waist band in my teeth and slowly pulling them down to free his dick that stands at full attention before me. I quickly grab the hitachi wand from my toys and turn it on, a low humming sound fills the room and Q tenses up below me. I tease him a little and trace it along his inner thighs and just around his cock, but never touching it. “Please do something. Anything. I’m so hard please.” I smile because hearing him beg is truly a spectacle and something I wish I could hear all the time. His wish is my command and I place the the wand just below the head of his cock and his back arches off the bed and his fists clench above his head grabbing at the scarf to brace himself for the overwhelming and heightened sensation of pleasure that washes over him.

“Oh shit. God. Please more that feels so good.” I start running it up and down his length and watch as his hips convulse aching for more friction. “I’m close, holy fuck i’m close.” He confesses between moans and I quickly remove the toy and his dick twitches in attempts to find friction to chase the high it craves. Q whines at the loss of pleasure and it’s music to my ears.

“Not just yet. I haven’t even stripped down yet.” I remove my bra and panties and sit on top of Q’s hard on. I grind my hips and feel as his cock rubs against the folds of my dripping wet pussy. “Mmm~” A low hum falls out of my mouth because I know i’m in for quite a ride. He feels so thick and hard outside of my body in this moment, I could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of me. “How bad do you wanna cum?” I say teasing him in a pouty voice and all he can do is let out unintelligible babbles. “That’s not an answer Quinn.” I lift myself up and his groans only get louder and his feet kick at the sheets on the bed at the once again lost friction.

“Please I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.” I travel up his body until my navel hangs above his mouth, I can feel his steaming breath blowing on me and it only excites me more.

“Show me how bad.” I lower myself down and the moment he realizes what’s going on he quickly gets to work lapping up really fast at whatever his tongue could reach. “Fuck Q that feels so good.” I moan out to let him know he’s doing a good job. I lavish in the sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue plunging into me and circling around my clit, humming to add vibrations, hitting all my most sensitive spots. This man knew how to please a lady. I start grinding my hips to help him out a little as I feel my climax slowly beginning to approach. “I’m gonna cum Q keep fucking sucking on my clit like that.” Like a dog he quickly obeys and gives my wanted attention to my throbbing clit as he bites gently, sucks, and licks it I feel myself come undone and tremble through my high with a drawn out groan.

I decided he’s had enough torture and go to remove the blindfold. He quickly blinks his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dimly lit room after having that sense taken away. I lean down and kiss his lips that are soaked in my juices, moaning as I taste the liquid ecstasy, tongues tangles together in desperation. He hums back and I pull away to trail kisses from his jawline, to his neck, down to his chest, lower and lower until i’m met with his hard on that is leaking with a need for attention. I lick up whatever pre-cum resided on the tip and look up as he watches breathlessly.

“What’s wrong Quinn, cat got your tongue?”

“Quite the opposite. Bitch got my dick.” My eyes go wide and there’s no stopping the ugly laugh that escapes my mouth. It totally ruined the sexy dominating attitude I had going this whole evening but it was comical and swift on his part.

“Shut up that was terrible.” I say, still giggling a little bit. He gives a cocky smile in return.

“Make me.” Those were words he was soon going to mistake. I plunge down and take his whole cock into my mouth with my nose bouncing against his stomach. “Oh fuck!” He yells out at the suddenness of me taking him in. It sure did get him to stop talking as he dissolved into nothing but a moaning mess which only made me wet all over again. With each bob I take, I feel his hips start to match rhythms and start pounding against my face reaching in deeper as his tip hits the back of my throat and I gag a little. “I’m so close please let me cum dammit!” He cries out as the thrusts of his hips begins to falter but never losing power and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Just to torture him a little more, I slide him out of my mouth and back away so he falls away from the high he was so close to. “Please no, not again.”

“Just a little longer darling, all good things come to those who wait.” I straddle him again, but this time I line him up with my entrance, teasing myself as I rub his tip along my folds a little. I sink down slowly and Q’s mouth falls open and his head falls back at the sensation of finally being inside of me. I decided to reward him a little and lean up and remove the scarf that bounds his wrists. “Since you’ve been so good.” I say with a smirk. I slowly start to bounce my hips and feel as he slides in and out of me, hitting all the right spots that make it feel as though electricity is shooting out of every pore. Q’s hands grip at my hips so hard that I think that it might bruise, but it felt good and I knew I had built him up for so long tonight already.

In desperation and relishing the taste of his freedom, he starts slamming hard up into me and I knew he was close but he wasn’t going to say. Just as soon as he thought he had his way again, I tripped that thought away by stopping my movements and using my weight to hold his hips down against the mattress.

“Were you not going to tell me you were getting close?” He tries to use his hands to move my hips, but I wasn’t going to budge. I can feel him twitching like crazy in me and judging by his face he looks as though he’s going to be seeing beyond the stars when he finally releases all i’ve made him pent up. “Beg for it.”

“Sweetheart please i’m so close, this is the third time. You feel so good around me and I just want to cum.” The way he said sweetheart in a sad needy tone just made my heart melt. I release the weight I had on him and a fire ignites behind his eyes. He grabs my waist to hold me in place as he desperately thrusts into me getting faster and faster. I cum for a second time without warning as Q continues pounding into me relentlessly with feverish intent. I feel so oversensitive and i’m hunched over, leaning on top of Q as I whine from the overstimulation. It all came to a quick close with a final hard thrust he releases what felt like endless hot spurts of cum into me with a loud continuous throaty groan.

Finally we both lay there breathless and exhausting from what felt like the best sex i’ve had in ages.

“I haven’t had sex like that in a while.” I tell him as I push the now knotted, sweat drenched hair away from my face.

“I don’t think i’ve had sex like that ever. I don’t usually play sub, something about you got me down on my knees. Wanted you to have your fun.” I felt proud of myself for taking on the role, it felt empowering and a lot more satisfying. I could get used to this. “Y’know, I hope this isn’t just a one night stand because i’d kinda like to take you to a movie.”

“I think i’d like that a lot Quinn.” I say smiling and looking into the mocha puppy dog eyes that had me hooked from the start. Just when I had thought i’d have no chance throwing myself back into the dating ring, the universe drops the most unexpected twists into the tale. My twist: my favorite regular at the bar.

#This was really self indulgent and really long!!#brian quinn #q #brian q quinn #brian quinn imagine #brian x reader #q x reader #smut #suki writes

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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

Text

lockdown lust

pairing: johnny storm x reader

word count: 3270

summary: video chatting with your best friend johnny during quarantine turns a bit steamy.

themes: smut

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed, @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly, @denisemarieangelina, @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @inactivewhore, @hurricanerinwrites, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername

notes: man i wish my quarantine was going like this. graphic creds go to the @thewritingdoll, also patreon saw this first! click here to join :)

You’re laying on your side on your bed, dressed in a simple tank top and shorts with your sports bra just barely peeking out from either side of your shirt, clicking through YouTube video after YouTube video on your laptop. Ever since being unemployed thanks to the pandemic, each day is the same as the previous. Wake up, eat breakfast, watch TV, play some video games, eat lunch, read, try and teach yourself a new language, sit outside on the deck for a bit, eat dinner… you’re slowly going crazy not having anything productive to do, but it at least helps being able to chat with your friends via FaceTime and Zoom. It’s rather depressing being alone and stuck at home, but one of your best friends in particular manages to help quite a lot. Even though Johnny’s going just as crazy as you are, he’s still his fun loving, goofy, and energetic self, and it’s safe to say he knows how to cheer you up whenever you’re feeling the quarantine blues.

A notification pops up on your screen indicating that he’s video calling you, and you gladly answer. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He greets you in his typical flirtatious fashion- as usual, he’s shirtless (you’re assuming also only in underwear) and lounging back in his bed with a beer in one hand. “Fuck, I’m so bored. What are you up to?” You laugh softly, sighing as you look at the YouTube videos on the side of your screen. “Literally nothing. Honestly considering just going to sleep because I have nothing else to do.”

“You know what I miss?” he suddenly speaks up rather than responding to you, taking a swig of his beer. “Sex. No, I miss even just touching a girl. Like even if it’s a fucking handshake. I’m starting to think I should have just picked a quarantine girlfriend so I could get some action.” You blink and laugh, shaking your head to yourself though you can’t help but admit you understand the feeling. “I’m not gonna lie, I definitely miss the feeling of having someone in the bed with me.” You don’t have a boyfriend, but you did sometimes have a fling every now and then. As Johnny said, though, it’s not just about sex. You simply miss the comforting, reassuring feeling of having a male’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his body in his slumber.

“Yeah? So have you been masturbating a lot?” he asks bluntly, and you laugh; you and Johnny are extremely close, and so questions like these never throw you off or make you uncomfortable. “Kind of, yeah, but I’m sure nowhere near as much as you.” You tease with a smirk, and he snickers in return. “Touche, darling. I can’t help it, okay? I have a high sex drive.” He suddenly arches a brow, lifting his drink up slightly. “Hello, why am I the only one drinking? Go get some alcohol, c’mon!” You roll your eyes fondly at his severe ADD, but nod your head. “Alright, alright, be right back.”

You return a few moments later with a glass of wine, settling into your previous position laying on your side and propped up on your elbow, sipping from your glass. “Happy now?” you ask, and he scoffs playfully. “Wine? What are you, forty?” You blink and laugh loudly, making a face. “Beer makes my stomach feel weird! It’s all… carby or whatever.” He hums thoughtfully before reaching out of the frame to pick up something- a bottle of liquor. “Okay, what about shots?”

You look at him in amusement and disbelief, but honestly, you actually feel a little sympathy for him. He just wants company; he’s an incredibly social guy who absolutely loves going out, clubbing, dancing, and meeting new people- of course he just wants a drinking buddy right now. “Alright, alright, I literally just settled down but I’ll get out of bed again just for you.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he cheers happily, pumping his fist in the air. “Hell yeah, that’s my girl! Hurry now before my buzz dies down.” You chuckle softly and get up again, setting your wine down and going back to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of fruit flavored rum. It’s probably going to be a long night if Johnny’s this hyped up already, but you’re actually looking forward to it. You really do love talking to him, especially during this period of time.

An hour flies by without you even realizing it. You’ve been drinking with Johnny the whole time, laughing and chatting and joking around with each other as you usually do; there’s no one who can make you smile as much as he does. His enthusiasm and rowdiness is contagious- you’ve felt so groggy and lazy during these lockdown days, but he always knows how to snap you right back.

“Hey, Y/N.” Johnny reaches over to grab another can of beer from the table and you catch even more of a view of his rippling abs. “Yeah?” you ask, wondering just how much you’ve drank to actually be checking Johnny out. You can acknowledge he’s an attractive guy, but he’s only been a friend to you all this time- for some reason, you never really entertained the thought of anything more. Perhaps because you’ve seen the way he is with women; not necessarily bad or toxic, but not exactly boyfriend material either.

“Let’s play a game.” He suggests, giving you a little smirk. “How about Never Have I Ever?” You blink but smile, nodding your head. “Alright, sure. Wanna start?” He suddenly lifts a hand, shaking his head. “Uh uh uh, hold on. This version of the game has a catch.” He downs the rest of his beer before wiping his lips with the back of his hand, grinning at you mischievously. “For every single thing you have done, you have to take off an article of clothing.”

“What? You know, like, everything I’ve done!” you argue in amusement, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “And you know everything I’ve done. So? C’mon, it’ll be fun. But we can’t do stupid stuff, like “Never have I ever kissed a girl” or “watched hardcore porn”. It has to be more specific.”

You roll your eyes but find yourself agreeing. “Okay. Fine. Shouldn’t you, like, maybe put on clothes first though? You know, so you actually have something to take off?” He blinks and looks down at his half naked body before laughing loudly. “Oh yeah, good point!” You watch as he stands up, eyes directly met with his boxers as he goes to grab a shirt, pants, and even socks and a watch. “You are ridiculous,” you remark, taking a sip of your wine though giggling nonetheless. As always, he knows just how to make you laugh.

“Alright, I’ll start.” Johnny gets himself comfortable again, dressed in a simple wifebeater and basketball shorts. “Never have I ever… gotten so drunk as a freshman at a college party that I ended up making my really handsome best friend carry me all the way back to my dorm.” You blink and laugh loudly making a face, whining playfully, “Johnny! God, you didn’t even go to school there, why were you there anyways?”

“To carry your ass back home. Now go on, get stripping.” You scoff but take off your tank top, revealing your patterned sports bra underneath. You see him staring and for some reason, you actually feel… excited. This has to be the alcohol, right? You clear your throat, tossing the top aside. “My turn. Never have I ever had sex with someone new five minutes after breaking up with my significant other.” You fire bluntly, the corner of your lips tugging upwards. He laughs, shaking his head to himself. “In my defense, we had only been dating for two weeks, and she went psycho on me. You remember! Right?”

“Just take off the shirt, Johnny.” You laugh, and he arches a brow, playfully retorting, “Wow, bossy. I like it, baby.” He lifts off the wifebeater revealing his abs once again, and you force yourself not to look at them- you know he’d make a comment otherwise. “If we’re going to bring sexcapades into this,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “never have I ever been caught hooking up in a movie theater.” You immediately blush, hiding your face. “Why did I ever tell you about that? It was barely hooking up, it was just making out! And you’ve done that several times at the movies, there’s no way you haven’t.”

“I have, but I’ve never been caught.” He winks and nods towards you. “So, the bra?” You roll your eyes and shake your head, shifting yourself so you’re sitting up on your knees to wiggle out of your shorts. You’re thankful you at least put on some cute underwear today, looking down at the sky blue material with little tiny icons of penguins on it. Johnny shamelessly looks too, chuckling softly. “Wow. Those are fucking precious.” He barely bites on his lip though as he keeps staring, and you feel yourself blushing deeper, quickly settling yourself back down again.

It’s obvious where this game’s heading. Both of you know it. You don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol, or the fact that you’re just extremely sex deprived, but you’re completely fine with how this night will end. It’s just a fun little game. Nothing wrong with that.

“My turn.” You snap him out of whatever daydream is running through his head, raising an eyebrow. “Never have I ever dated a freaking supermodel.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Y/N?” he teases, but easily kicks off his basketball shorts. “No. Also why aren’t you just taking off your socks and the watch first?” you ask, and he grins, shrugging playfully. “I’m perfectly fine with just chilling with my dick out wearing nothing but a few accessories. What’s wrong with that?” You shake your head to yourself, though you can’t help but find the thought hilarious. How this boy became so bold and confident, you have no idea, but you have to admit it’s even a bit inspirational at times.

“Okay,” Johnny begins, taking a drink of his beer. He looks more excited now, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Never have I ever had sex with a long term significant other.” You blink and make a soft incredulous noise. “You’ve never even had a long term significant other!”

“That’s right, baby girl! Which is it gonna be, the bra or the panties?”

“Neither.” You smirk and bring your feet into view, wiggling your toes in the fuzzy socks you had been wearing. “I’m guessing someone here doesn’t have a foot fetish at least, because you didn’t even notice that I’m wearing socks.” Johnny groans in playful annoyance as you take them off, crossing his arms. “Fine, you got me there. Your turn.”

You have to pause for a second. Not to think of what you’re going to say- God, you know Johnny better than he does, you could write a book of all the bullshit he pulls. No, you have to pause because this is where things are going to start getting intense. You’re going to see your best friend naked, and he’s going to see you naked. Both of you are horny out of your minds. Both of you are intoxicated. Do you really want to go through with this?

“Hello? You there?” he asks impatiently, in classic Johnny fashion. You swear the boy has the attention span of a turkey.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about my best friend.” You suddenly speak, looking at him intently- he looks at you in surprise for a few moments, but before he can move, you’re suddenly the one slowly lifting your sports bra up and over your head, your breasts moving up with it before lightly bouncing down.

He’s completely speechless, his eyes on your chest as if he’s never seen boobs before, his facial expression getting more and more serious from shock. “Holy…” he finally mumbles, nibbling on his lip. You’ve never seen him look so hungry, so full of desire, and it’s only turning you on. There’s a certain thrill and adrenaline rush that comes with getting intimate with someone you’re “not supposed” to, and you’re definitely feeling that buzz right now.

“Well?” you ask softly, tilting your head to one side. “I have. Have you?” You’re taking a big chance here, but considering what a sleazeball Johnny can be, you’re certain it’s had to have happened at least once. He looks at you for a few moments before slowly smirking, moving his hands down…

… only to take off his socks. Your expression is one of complete disbelief as you’re about to ask him if he’s actually serious, but then he goes to take off his watch. After that, he moves his hands to the hem of his boxers and pushes them down- his erection jumps up, tall and thick, and you can feel the heat in your core simply from looking at it. He lounges back against his headboard, completely nude, his chest visibly heaving slightly from excitement.

You clear your throat trying not to be too obvious about staring at it. “Why’d you… um… why did you take more than one thing off?”

He leans over and he’s out of the frame for a second. You hear the sound of hands rubbing together. Lotion. “Because I’ve had more than one wet dream.” He answers simply upon returning, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly wraps his hand around his cock. “Do you want to hear about one?” You widen your eyes, now only paying attention to this shaft at this point, watching him pump himself slowly. Fuck, you’re so turned on right now. “Yes,” you breathe out, starting to shift uncomfortably as you subconsciously rub your thighs together.

“In the dream you were dating that dumb ex of yours. I can’t even remember his fucking name anymore. The one I hated, you know who I’m talking about.” Johnny begins, eyes briefly roaming your body on his screen. “I came over one day and he was out somewhere. You were wearing this sexy ass lingerie, to surprise him when he got back. When I walked in, you just immediately jumped up on me without realizing it was me- when you did, you looked all shocked, but I just kept holding you in my arms.” He breathes heavier, starting to pump faster. “We start kissing. Making out. My tongue’s practically down your fucking throat, my hands squeezing your perfect ass, I bring you into the bedroom.”

Your cheeks feel flushed and your own breaths are becoming a little more uneven, completely focused on everything he’s saying. “Then what?” you whisper; you don’t even realize your hand is moving to your breast. He lets out a groan simply from watching you, continuing, “I push you down on your hands and knees on the bed and slap your ass so hard, it leaves a mark. I tell you that you belong to me now, and that I don’t care if your boyfriend has to watch us fuck for me to prove that.” He stares at you as you start massaging your breast, watching in awe as your fingers pinch your nipple ever-so-slightly. “Fuck, you like this, don’t you baby girl? After that, I finger fuck you over and over again, I make you cum so goddamn many times. You’re fucking screaming by the end of it, you’re still on your hands and knees like a good girl, your face is against the mattress and your perky little butt’s up in the air for me. You fucking love every second of it.” He grits his teeth slightly as he keeps pumping, eyes dark with lust. “Then you want to know what happens next?”

“Y-yes, yes Johnny, please,” you practically moan, now practically trying to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the frustration. “Then take off your panties,” he suddenly demands, and you instantly obey, wiggling them off your legs. “Sit up so I can see your pussy,” he growls huskily. You adjust the laptop so that it’s in front of you, sitting and leaning back with your legs spread so that your bare entrance is in view, resting yourself on your elbows breathlessly. “I’m so fucking wet, Johnny,” you whine, moving your hand down your torso and using your fingers to start rubbing yourself. “Please, please keep going…”

“God damn,” he groans deeply, the mere noise in itself making you shiver in pleasure. “After I have you cumming over and over again, I grab your hair and thrust inside you, holding your ass and smacking it whenever I fucking want.” You let out a moan as you push one finger inside, tilting your head back. “Your tight little pussy felt so fucking good around me, babe. I had my big dick poking out your goddamn belly from how hard and deep I fucked you. I was tugging your hair, choking you, spanking you, playing with those perfect tits- you made the perfect little fuckdoll, so obedient, so damn needy.” He smirks, hand moving up and down faster, staring at you play with yourself as he murmurs, “Just like how you are now, hm?”

“Fuck, Johnny,” you whine breathlessly, pushing another finger in and pumping even faster. “I need you right now, o-oh… oh my God. I need your big dick inside me right fucking now…”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he groans just from hearing you, rolling his neck to one side and shutting his eyes, head tilted upwards. “Would you cum all over my dick, just like you did in my dream?” You gasp, nodding immediately, lips parted and cheeks pink. “Yes! Yes… fuck… I want you to cum inside me, too…” He grins wider, chest heaving as he watches you weakly, hand working his long length intensely. “I can definitely do that, baby girl… o-ooh fuck, I’m close… I’m going to fucking cum right now…!”

“Me too!” you cry out, leaning against the headboard and rubbing hard; it’s not long before Johnny gets a view of you releasing, and the sight is enough to set him off with a loud groan- you can’t help but stare at how much he cums, wishing you could be there to taste all of it.

“God damn.” He slowly exhales, leaning back entirely. “That was… wow. I fucking needed that.” He barely straightens up to grab a tissue from his nightstand, cleaning his mess but glancing up at you breathing heavily. “And especially with you. You’re so hot, Y/N, I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I met you.” You widen your eyes surprised, trying to catch your breath as you stare at him. “What? Really…? I… I didn’t think you saw me like that, we were always just such… best friends.”

“Yeah. That’s why I didn’t do anything.” He admits, carelessly tossing the tissue aside, but you’re too shocked to even show any disgust. “You’re the only girl friend I’ve had. I didn’t want to treat you like everyone else. But fuck, it’s been hard.” He pauses and nods towards his length, “This has been too, every time I’m around you.”

Despite the otherwise serious conversation, you can’t help but laugh, even feeling somewhat flattered. You move to sit more comfortably, biting your lip. “Well then,” you mumble tilting your head, “maybe on the next video call I can tell you about my dream…”

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm smut #johnny storm imagine #johnny storm fanfic #johnny storm x you

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ayo-cowbelly · 4 years ago

Text

when the fire goes out, how do we stay warm? part 2/?

previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist

this chapter is just SkySnips fluff and then *angst*. hope you enjoy ;)

the chapter count has changed- this story will definitely be more than two parts. it just went in it's own direction and i was powerless to stop it.

Warning: descriptions of injuries and a panic attack

***

When Anakin wakes up, he sees sterile white walls and bright lights filling his vision. Everything is blurry. It reminds him of being unconscious, except instead of darkness all he sees is blazing white.

The first thing he registers is that his body, especially his right eye, feels like it’s on fire. Then he realizes that his right side feels suspiciously light. Anakin knows he must have injuries, somehow, but he doesn’t remember exactly how he got them. Usually, when he wakes up in MedBay, the memories come rushing back within a few seconds; sometimes it even makes Anakin nauseous. But this time, there’s nothing. No flashes of battle, no cut off sentences, no ringing of an explosion in his ears.

There’s a blankness filling the space where the last few days (or weeks, he doesn't know) should be. It makes Anakin more unsettled than the nausea would.

He closes his eyes, reaching for the memories, but all he can remember is having a meeting with the Council- about what, he doesn’t know. But he recognizes the feelings that come with it; irritation, resentment, anticipation. The emotions feel stronger than they would normally be. Whatever he’d been doing, it hadn’t been good. He dives into his head again, and almost gets past the Council meeting; but when he tries to get farther, he meets a wall. As Anakin bangs against the structure, it keeps pushing him back. He’s not sure if it’s meant for protection or to deceive him.

Maybe Obi-Wan knows? Now that Anakin was awake, he should comm his master- Obi-Wan would surely be aware Anakin had been unconscious (and it must have been caused by something bad, if Anakin’s stinging limbs are any indication). Anakin looks down at his body, inspecting the injuries. His left arm has red scars running down it, along with his legs. Some look newer, and he knows how to differentiate those from his old ones from Tatooine- those he is intimately familiar with.

There are the small ones on his fingers, from when he was a child reaching for machinery his mother couldn’t reach. There’s ones on his legs (which are currently bare, due to the hospital gown he’s wearing) from the lashings Watto and Gardulla gave him, and of course ones he earned for running through Mos Espa trying to get away from said lashes.

But these new marks… he’s not sure where they’re from. Anakin reaches up to his right eye, trying to discover the source of the pain. He runs his fingers over the scar, wondering why it feels… longer than it used to be. Anakin follows the stitches (why he needed stitches on an old scar, he had no idea), dread swirling in him as he traces them down to just above his jawline. His cheek feels swollen and numb.

Anakin counts about 15 new wounds on his left arm, and those are just the ones he can see (some, he notices, run under his sleeve. He doesn’t want to know where they go). There are some bandages on his legs and he thinks he senses one on his left shoulder. Anxiously, he slowly turns his head to his now-weightless side. The sight before him shocks him to his core.

His right arm. It’s gone.

Not just the prosthetic. His entire right arm. Is not there. His limb just... ends at his shoulder, a small stump the only thing left. Anakin slams against the wall in his head, demanding answers, but the damned thing stays strong. The effort almost exhausts his already ragged mind. What happened to me?

As he surveys the MedBay, it’s seemingly empty- save for a few other sleeping troopers, so it must be during the night cycle. His eyes land on the bacta tank. In it is Rex, eyes closed. His body is covered in marks as well. But they’re not as bad as Anakin’s, not even close. The Jedi looks closely at the other troopers in the room, checking if they have anything resembling lashes or cuts- but they don’t. It’s just him and Rex, from what he can tell so far.

The door to the MedBay opens, Kix striding in. When he sees Anakin, he almost drops his datapad. “General! You’re awake!” Judging by the tone of the medic’s voice, Kix is genuinely surprised- just how long had Anakin been out?

“Yeah, I am- Kix, what happened? Where did my kriffing arm go?” As he talks, his throat aches with soreness- Anakin doesn’t try to figure out why (he knows he won’t like the answer).

Kix walks forward slowly. “You… you don’t know, Sir?”

“No,” Anakin says, disgruntled. “I can’t remember anything from before my last meeting with the Council.” His stomach drops a bit when he sees Kix’s eyes widen.

Swallowing, his head medic inspects the bandages and marks on his body. A tense silence fills the room. Anakin hates it.

“Kix. Where did Rex and I go?”

“Sir, I- I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you.”

Anakin feels a flare of anger. Kix means well, he knows that; but when you wake up with new scars and a missing limb, with your captain in a bacta tank- well, you’re bound to have questions.

“Just tell me why my arm’s gone, Kix, if you won’t tell me where we were.”

Kix lifts his head, looking Anakin in the eye grimly. “Your prosthetic was gone by the time I got to you. The rest of the limb was too infected and torn up to be saved.”

Anakin looks back to the stump at his shoulder. Eyes closed, he whispers, “Why was my arm torn up?”

“General Skywalker, really, I don’t think I’m the best person-”

Anakin silences Kix with a wave of his left hand. “Fine, then, just- can you get me Obi-Wan?”

At his General’s words, Kix pales but doesn’t say anything. “I’ll- I’ll get you Commander Tano, Sir,” Kix says shakily, before turning and walking out.

Anakin has more questions than answers.

He waits, fidgeting with his hospital gown, wondering why the hell Kix seemed so unsteady around him. As he sits in his bed, he tries reaching out to Obi-Wan in the Force. Anakin locates their bond- but it’s unstable, the thread fraying on both sides. He pulls on it, and is met with a wobbly burst of surprise, distress, love, and sorrow from Obi-Wan. Anakin sends back feelings of confusion and slight impatience. He doesn’t receive anything in reply.

He’s about to reach out again, but is interrupted by a shout of “Skyguy!” Anakin turns to Ahsoka, her feet pounding over to him. She throws her arms around him, holding tight.

“Snips?”

“Oh, thank the Force you’re awake- it’s been awful, Master, without you or Rex here- please, don’t ever do that again-”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says. He gently pries her arms off his, but still keeps her close. His Padawan- his little sister- has tears in her eyes as she looks over him. “What happened to me? Where’s Obi-Wan?”

Ahsoka’s eyes overflow. “Master, he’s- they- I tried to tell-” The sentence is cut off by her broken sobs. Anakin pulls her into his chest again, and she gratefully holds on. He runs his hand over her Lek, making soft shushing noises.

“It’ll be okay, Snips, whatever happened- it’ll be okay,” He whispers. Ahsoka only cries harder. Anakin wonders if his Master is- no, he can't be, Anakin felt him through their bond- Obi-Wan is not dead.

The next day, Anakin sets off to the bridge, intending to get answers.

Well, he tries. Whether or not he actually got there is a different story. Ahsoka, Kix, and even Cody (who has apparently been on the Resolute for as long as Anakin’s been out- the Commander looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks) all sternly ordered him to stay put.

“Master, you just woke up last night; you need to rest.”

“I can’t rest, I need to know where Obi-Wan is, where I’ve been-”

“Sir, as head medic, I’m respectfully commanding you to stay put,” Kix finishes replacing a bandage on Anakin’s leg, sternly giving him a look.

Anakin, knowing not to argue with Kix, tries a different tactic. “Cody, you agree with me, right?”

Cody, who looks incredibly worn out, just shakes his head at Anakin, making the Jedi sigh.

“Please, just tell me what happened,” Anakin begs, looking around at the three of them. The two clones share a glance before saluting quickly and walking away, nodding to Ahsoka.

She stares at the closing doors, hands twisting and pulling at her clothes. Anakin’s eye catches on an angry-looking line on her uncovered right shoulder. Had she been on the mission, too? Anakin hopes she wasn’t; whatever mission this was, it had been catastrophic, if he was missing an arm and Obi-Wan was gone- No. Don’t- don’t think about that- he’s alive, you felt him, you’ll find him-

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Then another. She wipes her eyes, turning to face him. “Master, we were on…” she pauses and takes his left hand, as if telling Anakin to brace himself. “You, me, Rex, and Obi-Wan… we were on Zygerria. But after that-”

He can’t hear the rest of her sentence. The word ‘Zygerria’ triggers a myriad of emotions in Anakin. Anger, fear, sadness, pain, despair, hopelessness- he doesn’t know what to make of them. He feels numb and overstimulated all at once. His heart twists in his chest. Anakin wonders if he’s about to float away or sink into the floor, and he distinctly remembers yelling and crying and wondering where the Root was-

“Master?” Ahsoka says, but her voice can’t bring him back. He faintly registers a tentative brush of sympathy and love in their bond, but he can’t reply- he’s lost in his head.

Anakin is stuck in an ocean, and he’s going to drown, why can’t he swim- where is Obi, how can I get out, DON’T TOUCH ME- where is the Root, I want Obi, GET AWAY FROM ME- I want to rest, I’m so tired, let me sleep, LEAVE REX ALONE- why can’t I see the Dunes, they’re supposed to be here, I can see Mom again, I HATE THIS PLANET- let them swallow me, I TOLD YOU TO STOP- I want to help, STOP PLEASE STOP, STOP, DON’T DO THAT, STOP- Obi please help me-

The thoughts that must be from the mission whirl around his brain, but he can’t grasp onto the memories they hold. Anakin wants them to go away, he wants them to stay put, he wants to make his hand stop shaking. Why is he burning if he’s about to drown? His heart pounds and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, his legs don’t work, he is going to sink-

Suddenly, his spiraling mind is gently pulled at with a sweep of affection and love. The feelings aren’t his, but from someone nearby (he can’t remember who). The person keeps building up the sentiment, until they become a thick blanket that is laid over Anakin, shielding him.

He finds that his eyes are closed. He slowly comes back into his body, and realizes his left -his only- hand is tightly gripping something.

It’s another hand. Ahsoka. He opens his eyes, breaths regulating. Anakin releases her, and turns his head to look at her. His little sister looking at him worriedly, questions in her eyes.

“Anakin?” She breathes.

“‘Soka?” He croaks out. His throat is even more sore than before. “Where- where’s Obi?”

A heavy pause. “The queen has him, Anakin,” Ahsoka says quietly.

Anakin can't help but be relieved that Obi-Wan has been confirmed alive. But the Zygerrian queen has him- and Anakin knows that that is so much worse than his Master being dead.

I would rather my child be dead than be a slave like me.

But this time, it's his brother.

"'Soka... what happened... after we were there?" Anakin asks, part of him not wanting her to answer.

"You- The guards, they found you and Rex, and they shipped you off- They put me in a cell," She says. Searching his face, his apprentice knows he needs more details. Sadly, she continues, "They took you to Kadavo, Master. The queen made Obi-Wan her servant."

Kadavo. A place all slaves knew, even on Tatooine. It was the planet that everyone had nightmares of. He had been sent there- The thought almost sends his mind spiraling again, but before it happens, Ahsoka takes his hand and fills their bond with comfort. Anakin meets her eyes. "How long- how long were we-" He can't bring himself to finish. It doesn't feel real- but it must be. They made him into a-

Don't finish that thought.

Anakin turns back to Ahsoka. Another pause. Eyes closed, Ahsoka mumbles, "It was about a month before we were rescued, Master."

He doesn't know what to say to that- he had been on Kedavo for a month? "H- how did they find us?"

"It took them a while to figure out where you were, but once they did, they sent Master Plo to get us. Once they got you, they went for me and Obi-Wan- Rex told Master Plo where we were before he went unconscious, apparently. They found me, but... nobody knows where the queen put Master Obi-Wan."

Red fills Anakin's vision. Obi-Wan, his brother, is missing, in the hands of some slaver queen-

She will pay.

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calumance · 4 years ago

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LA Devotee - Part XX

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Mikayla gives Emily some good news all the while Emily is determined to make time to go see Calum.

A/N: I’m sorry this is so long coming!! I hope you all like it! 🥰🥰🥰 Feedback and requests are always welcomed! (Want to be added to my tag list? Let me know!)

Masterlist

When I walked into the office, Mikayla was already sitting at her desk. The second we locked eyes, she jumped out of her chair and followed me into my office. “You look exhausted, Emily.” I raised my eyebrows and set my mug down on my desk. Mikayla played with her fingers and bounced on her feet, taking my silence as an agreement that I am indeed exhausted. She dropped her hands to her side as I walked towards the windows to open the blinds. “So, I wanted to tell you Trevor and I set a date.”

I spun around, the exhaustion subsiding for a minute, “That’s amazing! What day did you decide?” As I walked away from the window, Mikayla chewed on her bottom lip, a smile pulling at the corner.

She looked down at her feet, “January 26th of next year.” My hands clapped together before reaching out and pulling her into a hug. She has always told me how much she wanted a winter wedding. “Do you think Calum will be home from tour by then?”

My eyebrows narrowed, not really having his tour schedule memorized. I reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and shrugged. “I’m not sure, I’ll have to ask him.”

Mikayla nodded and rocked on her feet. “Trevor and I are having an engagement party this weekend and with you being my maid of honor and all,” I stopped dead in my tracks. It’s not like I didn’t think she was going to include me in her wedding, I just didn’t think I was maid of honor worthy. My eyes met Mikayla’s and a grin grew across her face. A squeal escaped my chest and I hopped up and down and threw my hands around her.

I shook her before putting my hands on her shoulder and pushed her away, “Yes, yes, I’ll be there. When and where?”

“Saturday, my house, eleven in the morning.” She smiled and I nodded. I wouldn’t miss my best friends engagement party for anything.

Before I went home for the evening, I stopped over at Crystal’s house and picked up Duke. His tail wagging vigorously as he bounded towards me when he saw me walk through the door. He licked my face as I picked him up and gave his chin a soft scratch. I thanked Crystal again for watching him for a couple days and headed out the front door. Duke sat happily in the front seat, panting and looking out the window as we drove the five minutes home. Once we got home, and I opened the car door, Duke went running to the front door, turning back to look at me as if to ask if I would hurry up. I chuckled at him and opened the door, to which he responded by running inside and immediately jumping on the couch.

As Duke curled up into a ball on the couch, I took a picture of the three sticky notes I found. After I took the picture, I sent it to Calum with a quick message saying “You’re so cheesy. It made my day. Thank you. Sorry for texting you at two in the morning there. Duke and I just got home. Call me when you wake up, maybe we can Face Time for a little bit? Xx” After making some dinner, Duke and I hung out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting in my lap as we watched Stuck In Love together. Once the movie was over, I stood up and called him to go to bed. We walked around the house together before finally ending up in the bedroom. Duke immediately found a comfortable spot on the bed and I took a bit more time to brush my teeth and change into pajamas. After I crawled into bed, I was out like a light.

My phone ringing caused both Duke and I to jump. With my heart racing faster than a race horse, I grabbed my phone and saw Calum calling over Face Time. To try to calm my heartbeat, I sat up and pressed my hand on my forehead. A sigh escaped my chest as my finger slid across the screen to answer the call. It was light in his hotel room, it had been so long since we Face Timed that I felt like crying when I saw his face. It looked as if he had just gotten out the shower, he was shirtless, and his hair looked like he just ran a towel through it. “It took a lot of debating with myself if I wanted to Face Time you or not since I know it’s two in the morning there.” I looked over at the clock, not even realizing what time it was. I nodded and looked back at the phone “Just, wanted to see your face again, and we have an incredibly busy day today, so I didn’t know when I was going to have time to call you.”

My hand dropped from my head and I chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t mind waking up to talk to you. How’s London?” Duke and I made eye contact and his tail wagged, causing me to smile and reach over and rub his fuzzy little head.

He walked over to the window and looked out, keeping the camera facing him. “It’s alright. Would be better if you were here. I saw that you found all my notes.” He smiled and walked through his room, and propped his phone against something as he rifled through his suitcase, eventually pulling out a comb.

“I did, they were very cute, thank you.” As I watched him comb through his hair, I pulled my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my legs. I placed my chin on my knees and rubbed my right eye.

He must’ve seen me out of the corner of his eyes, because he stopped combing his hair and grabbed his phone. “I’m sorry, sunshine, do you want me to let you get back to sleep? You have to work today, right?”

I stopped rubbing my eye and shook my head. “I have to work, but I don’t want you to hang up.” He just nodded and set his phone down where it had been. He rifled through his suitcase and grabbed a tub of hair gel and started styling his hair. “I wish you were here, Calum. Mikayla is having her engagement party on Saturday, and she asked me to be her maid of honor, and as exciting as that is, I wish I could attend the party with my boyfriend.” My bottom lip found its way between my teeth as Calum slowed his hands and looked at the phone, his eyebrows pulling down in sympathy.

After a couple more flicks of his hair, he set everything down and grabbed his phone, his face taking up my whole screen. He smiled and I took a screen shot. “That’s incredibly exciting that she asked you to be her maid of honor. I’m sorry I can’t be there, sunshine. Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot of ‘boyfriend’ things.” His smiled faded and his head dropped.

“No, I know, and that’s okay. I still think you’re a more than perfect boyfriend, even though you’re not here. It would just be nice to show you off to all of my friends, and other people I don’t know.” I shrugged and switched my phone to the other hand to rub my other eye. The feeling of being woken up from a dead sleep finally catching up to me.

He pulled his eyebrows together and hummed. “Have you thought about taking a cardboard cutout?” I laughed and shook my head. Just as he was about to say something, I could hear a knock on the door. He stayed on the call as he walked to the door and opened it, a voice on the other side saying something about them leaving in five minutes. He mumbled an okay and shut the door. “I have to go, sunshine. How do I look?” He turned the camera around and stood in front of the mirror. He was wearing a black tank top under a black leather bomber jacket, black dress pants and two chains around his neck. With how he had focused the camera, I couldn’t see what his shoes looked like. It didn’t matter, my heart still skipped a beat, and my stomach still did a back flip.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “You look amazing, have a great day, Cal.”

He kept the camera facing the mirror as he smiled, “Thank you, you too, my love. Get some sleep. Talk to you later. “ He waved into the mirror, and I smiled and waved back. With that, he ended the call and I fell back, my head gently landing on my pillow. My eyes closed and I placed my phone on the side table and then curled back into a ball. That’s it, tomorrow I am going to schedule a week off and I am going to go see him. I can’t take this anymore.

As I walked into the office in the morning, I held my head high in confidence. There was nothing that was going to stop me from seeing him. The door clicked shut as my boss looked at me over the top of her glasses. I took a breath, “I know I just got back from the conference, but that really got in the way of seeing my boyfriend, so I’m taking another week to go see him.” I waited for her to light me up about planning my time off better, or I couldn’t take two weeks so close together. Instead, she give me a small smile, a quick nod and then she got back to her work. A bit surprised, I turned and walked out of her office without another word.

I wanted to surprise him, so to plan everything, I called Michael. Together we worked to figure out when they were traveling the least, which makes visiting the best. He helped me book a flight, and even set up with one of their crew members to pick me up from the airport. Before the end of the day, we had a plan, I would get picked up from the airport, I would be driven to the hotel, Michael would meet me in the lobby and then take me to Calum’s room. It was fool proof, but before I could get there, I had to go to Mikayla and Trevor’s engagement party, and make it through another full week of work.

Friday night Mikayla and I had gone shopping for outfits to wear to the party. She picked out a very simple white sundress, which had made me want to wear something similar, but she picked out a spaghetti strap, asymmetric dress that barely had a back to it. It was maroon, and completely stunning, but maybe a bit much for an engagement party. However, Mikayla begged that I got it and wore it for her. So, I agreed. When my alarm went off, I immediately jumped in the shower and started getting ready. The plan being to leave the house around ten-thirty to be there just before eleven. I had curled my hair and left it down over my shoulders, hoping that it gave the dress a bit more coverage. My eyeshadow stayed neutral, but my lipstick was dark and matched the dress almost perfectly.

I was just about finished getting ready when my phone started to ring. The clock told me it was ten here, which meant it was six in the evening where he was. Calum and I had agreed to switch off who woke up at an ungodly hour to call the other one. He had volunteered to make an extra call before he went on stage when he heard about the dress I bought. When I answered, I held the phone in just the right way that he couldn’t see the dress. He looked stage ready, his in-ear monitors hanging off the top of his ears. His hair was combed through, but not really styled. His eyebrows raised when he took his first look at me. He looked around the room and then moved to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, I want to see this in private.” He chuckled. “Your lipstick reminds me of the lipstick color you were wearing the night we met; I just absolutely love that color on you.”

My cheeks burned and I looked down to hide it. My eyes met with his again and I began to set my phone up so I could show him everything. “I think you’re going to like this dress then.” He chewed on his bottom lip as I set my phone down and backed up, showing the front, which had a very deep v neck. A smiled twitched at the corner of his lips and I turned to show him the back, the straps crossing and meeting the fabric of the dress at my waist. When I turned back around he had placed the middle knuckle of his pointer finger between his teeth and was smiling from ear to ear. “What do you think?”

He raised his eyebrows and dropped his hand. “I think that if I were there I’d be showing you off to people you know and don’t know. Also not sure how long that dress would last once we got home.” He smirked and raised a single eyebrow.

Even though my cheeks flushed, I still rolled my eyes with a chuckle, “Calum, keep it in your pants, for now.” He laughed and apologized, “How much time do you have left?” Calum looked at the time and told me he had ten minutes left. “Perfect. I’ll be right back.” I ran into the closet and grabbed two pairs of shoes. Both were black, both were high heels, but one pair was the pair I had with the strap around the ankle and one on the toe, the other a pair just some simple wedges. When I came back into view, I held both pairs up. “Which pair do you think would go better?”

He hummed for a second, his eyes flickers back and forth. “The sandals. I think those look nice on you no matter what you wear.” He smiled a sweet smile and leaned his head against his hands.

“Thanks, Cal. Have an amazing performance, is it my turn to call or your turn?” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling in thought, then told me it was mine. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later then.” He nodded in agreement, and we said our goodbyes to each other. After the call ended, I sat on the end of the bed and put my shoes on. Before I left the house, I made sure Duke had food and water, then I dropped my lipstick in my purse and walked out the front door, locking it behind me.

When I got to Mikayla’s house, there were only a couple of cars. From what she has told me, it looked like her parent’s cars, and maybe Trevor’s parent’s cars. My heels clacked on the ground as I made my way up the stone pavement to her front door. Before I rang the doorbell, I tucked my hair behind my ear. After the doorbell sounded, I heard loud footsteps from the other side of the door. The door swung open and Mikayla stood on the other side, a smile plastered on her face. Her brown hair was curled, hanging over her shoulders. Her makeup was classy, but very extravagant, obvious that it probably took her hours to do. She was wearing the white sundress she had bought the day before and a pair of white heels that I have seen her wear to work many times. She squealed when she saw me and threw her arms around me, “Come in, come in! I want you to meet my parents. I’ve told them so much about you.”

After I stepped through the threshold into her home, she shut the door behind me and then grabbed my hand. She pulled me through the house and into the kitchen, standing there was a couple who, just by looking at them, you could tell they were Mikayla’s parents. Mikayla was exactly what you would expect a mixture of those two people would look like. She introduced them to me as Amy and Glenn. I shook their hands and Amy grew a large, sweet smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, dear. Mikayla has told us so much about you, and how much she adores you.” My cheeks flushed and I looked at Mikayla who was beaming. “Mikayla also told me that you have an incredibly handsome boyfriend, is he here as well?”

It was inevitable that I was going to be asked about him, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Mikayla gave her mom a look as my heart sank into my stomach. “Uh, no. He’s out of the country for work for a while. He’ll probably be around for the wedding, though.” I nodded and faked a smile looking back at Amy. Amy nodded, suddenly looking uneasy. I took a silent breath and looked at Mikayla, “So, uh, where can I find the drinks?” Mikayla smiled and took a breath, catching the vibe I was sending her.

“I’ll show you.” She grabbed my hand and started to walk me out of the kitchen and towards her backyard. “I’m sorry, Emily. I told her that he wasn’t going to be here, she just doesn’t listen.” She opened the door towards her backyard, and we both stepped onto her deck.

Immediately I saw the cooler that contained the drinks. I flicked my hair over my shoulder as I leaned down and opened it to grab one out. “It’s okay.” After I flicked the water off my hands, I twisted the cap off the bottle. “The only reason it hurts is because of how badly I want him to be here. I’d love to sit here and gush about him all day, but it’s hard when he’s not here.” I threw my head back and took a big swig out of the drink, licking my lips afterwards. My eyes caressed the bottle like it was the best thing I’d ever seen then looked at Mikayla who gave me a completely fake smile.

After the fake smile left her face, she shook her head and chuckled, “Will you at least try to have a good time today? For me?” I nodded at her while taking another long drink from the glass bottle. She let out an audible sigh and dipped her head.

It honestly wasn’t that bad; I met plenty of lovely people. The only part that was horrible was when Mikayla’s grandmother so innocently asked me when I was going to get married. I almost laughed in her face, but I controlled myself and told her, “Oh, probably not until I’m seventy-two, Nana.” She laughed at that and patted my arm sweetly. Out of respect for Mikayla, I was the last one to leave, but I was honestly so grateful to be on my way home. When I pulled into the driveway, I put my head on the steering wheel and let out a sigh. After a second of sitting there with my thoughts, I popped open the door and made my way inside.

No matter how many times it happens, I will never get over how great it is to have a creature be as excited as your dog is when you walk through the door. As I close the front door behind me, Duke let’s out a little bark and then comes sprinting towards me. He stops and puts his front paws on my leg. I let out a chuckle and squat down to allow him to cover my entire face in kisses. “I missed you too, buddy.” I tell him as I scratch behind his ears. Together, we make our way into the bedroom so I can change into comfy clothes. As I sat on the bed, I started my countdown to when I could see Calum again; six days.

************

Tag list: @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Changes - part eleven Word count: ±3000 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part eleven: The case is closed and the hunters go their separate ways, but not before having to deal with a few loose ends. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Music: Purple Haze - Jimmi Hendrix, Highway To Hell - AC/DC. Author’s note: I’m super excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

Flashing lights shimmer bright blue and red on the surroundings of the three hunters. They’re out in the open again, the moon and stars above them, the night air chilly. Dean leans against his Impala, while Zoë has made herself comfortable on the saddle of her bike, overlooking the scene. Police officers are clearing the area, some take notes of what the victims have to say. Before the authorities arrived, the hunters talked to the victims about what to tell the police. Their best advice was to keep quiet. People who start their statement with the word ‘shapeshifter’ usually end up in a psych ward. If they ever need to talk about what happened, they can call the brothers.

All the people have been pulled out of the septic tank by the fire department. An ambulance with Cole in the back is the first to leave the driveway, sirens blaring, while others are treated and prepared for their ride to hospital. Sam walks up to the other hunters and halts, watching the ambulance take off. “Cole is in critical condition, but the paramedic was hopeful. She said if we hadn’t found him, he wouldn’t have survived the night. The others are okay, besides from minor injuries and malnutrition,” he informs. “Good,” Dean says, satisfied. “And Terry Cliffer?” Zoë wonders. “Yeah, about Terry...” Sam shakes his head. “They found him, too.” “Dead?” she assumes. Sam nods and leans against the hood. The paramedics took care of the wound on his head, the injury is barely visible, covered by his long brown hair. “They found his body in the back of the tank.” Zoë sighs. “Damnit.” She glances over to the ambulance where Michelle Cliffer is sitting on a gurney, wrapped in a thermal blanket. She has her daughter and son by her side, comforting her children. Zoë wonders if she knows. The boys catch her gaze at the broken family. “You can’t save them all.”

It's Dean who reminds her of that, to Zoë’s surprise. She expected words of consolation from the younger Winchester, who’s shown her a lot more sympathy than his arrogant brother, until now, that is. She nods at the hunter, hearing his message, but unable to accept tonight’s outcome. Every time an innocent is killed by something she hunts, she feels like she failed. Even though they saved the others, not to mention the many victims that would have followed if they hadn't ended the shifter, Zoë cannot shake that feeling.

When she looks up at Michelle again, she sees that the woman is on her way over. It’s not hard to miss the widow’s grief. “Michelle...” Sam stammers, not sure what to say. She forces a polite smile and gives him a nod, but it's obvious she's torn up. Through the tears, she looks them in the eye one by one. “What you did… you have no idea what this means to me,” she says, her voice breaking. “Just doing our job, ma’am,” Dean responds, as if it’s no big deal.

“It’s so strange...” The poor woman shakes her head, still unable to grasp what happened. “I noticed that Terry was behaving differently about a month ago. I had no idea that--" “- it wasn’t your husband?” Sam fills in. She looks up at him, sniffles and nods. “He looked just like him. A few days ago, I started asking questions and… well, you know the rest.” She looks down, as if she’s trying to find her strength in the soil underneath her feet. Her bottom lip begins to quiver. “They just informed me about Terry.” “We're very sorry,” Sam returns, compassionately.

Michelle looks up, her piercing blue eyes seeking Dean, the man who rescued her and her children. “Thank you,” she says, soft but genuine. “Don’t thank me. Thank her,” he nods at Zoë. “She did most of the work.” Zoë looks up, stunned, not expecting the sudden attention. Her gaze shifts to the mother, who turns towards her, her eyes showing more gratitude than a thousand words could describe. “Thank you for rescuing our children.” she voices, gratefully, and turns to the boys as well. “You saved my family.”

With nothing left to say, she heads back for the ambulance, her little boy walking with her by the hand, but Lizzy lingers, still looking up at the female hunter. After pondering a little longer, the six year old runs towards the huntress and folds her little arms around Zoë’s leg, giving her a hug before heading back to her mother. A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth as Zoë watches the little girl go. Lizzy waves at her until the doors of the ambulance close, answered by a final salute from the company of three. A breath floats from her lips, the weight on her shoulders made lighter by the young girl, who made it all worthwhile.

“Dude, you smell like a toilet,” Dean comments out of nowhere. He sniffs while making a face, eying his brother, who is still standing next to him. “You wanna tell me you smell like roses?” Sam returns. Dean stares back, puzzled. “What are you--“ Sam grabs Dean’s leather coat and pulls it up, showing the dirt and feces stuck to it. “Ah, shit,” Dean curses. Zoë grins. “Indeed.” Sam can’t help but smirk when Dean pulls himself loose, annoyed. Then he glares at Zoë. “You totally fucked up my favorite jacket,” he gripes, pissed off. “Gonna cry about it?” she pouts at him. He gives her a dirty look and narrows his eyes, but Zoë doesn’t let him off the hook just yet. “You’re lucky you didn’t fuck up my Dave,” she warns. “Next time you have the nerve to get on my bike, I’ll kill you.” “You have such a warm and loving personality, know that?” Dean snarls, sarcastically.

“Talking about warm and loving, you said something about ‘me being all over you’?” she brings up, curious. “You jumped me, and not in a violent kind of way,” he reveals, scratching the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “How did you find out it wasn’t me?” Zoë wonders. “Simple; there was no trace of that bullet wound,” he explains, nodding at her abdomen. “Ah, so clothes were off; you did play ball.” She grins, crossing her arms and leaning back a little. “How far did you make it, exactly? First base? Second base?”

Sam snorts, watching the interaction between the two hunters. He didn’t expect a blush to turn the tips of Dean’s ears pink, however. “Oh, whoa!” she realizes. “You got to third base.” “Dude, you had sex with a shapeshifter?” Sam smirks. “Dude, no! C’mon!” Dean defends. Zoë grins, amused. His denial was a little too fast and too loud. For a ‘professional’ con artist, he’s a pretty bad liar. “Did shifter-me give you a hand or was it the other way around?” “I - that’s not…” Dean stutters, only digging himself deeper. “You know what? I don’t have to answer to you.” She huffs. “Well, since you thought you were having sex with me, I think you kinda do.” “I didn’t have sex with you, or fake-you,” he makes clear, correcting himself while looking confused. “Look, I know what I was doing. I shot the fucker and saved your ass, so I think I deserve some credit.”

But Zoë doesn’t plan to stop. “You’re into me,” she provokes. “You’re so full of shit,” Dean scoffs. “You might come in a pretty package, sweetheart, but you are as sour as they come.” She laughs at the insult and slides her helmet over her head, securing the chinstrap. “I have zero intention to become your friend, Dean, and that was your first clue. When that shifter came on so strong, you should’ve known you were either having a wet dream, or the ‘pretty package’ wasn’t actually this sour bitch.”

The huntress starts the engine of her Harley before the guy she’s been butting heads with can counter. She doesn’t take off however; she’s not done yet. “Oh, by the way, did you know that shapeshifters aren’t sexless?” “Of course I knew that,” Dean utters. “So?” “Well, Sammy there saw the shifter shed and he was pretty sure it wasn’t female. So whatever you did, you didn’t do it with the opposite sex.” Zoë leaves the rest for the older Winchester brother to figure out, and to her amusement, it doesn’t take long before it settles in what she’s implying. When she sees the horror and bewilderment in his eyes, she has to pull every string to not break character. “Bye, boys!”

She turns the throttle and steers her bike towards the road. Sam has the feeling he’s experiencing déjà vu. Last night, they were standing in the exact same spot, Zoë driving off on her Harley Davidson, Dean staring at her in awe. The younger Winchester tries his best not to burst into laughter, but has difficulty keeping a straight face. He decides to play along with Zoë’s little mind game. “Is she actually saying that I...?” Dean stammers, eyeing his brother, unsettled. Sam nods. “Did you really see…?” Sam nods. Nauseated Dean looks away, realizing what this means. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Disoriented, he circles the car and slips into his seat a moment later. In shock he stares at the emblem in the center of the steering wheel; his whole life has been a lie. Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix starts playing when the driver turns the key in the ignition. As if he didn’t feel dirty enough, the thought of the shapeshifter driving his beloved Impala only adds to his discomfort. Oh well, at least the bastard didn’t screw with his mixtape.

Beams of yellow glide through the car rhythmically, fading in and out every time they pass a street light. The V8 under the hood roars steady, already radiating warmth into the cabin as they are about to drive into the city of Rochester. Dean has turned the heat on, aware that Sam had been stuck underground for hours; he figured his little brother might be cold. The gash on his head didn’t look too bad, looks like he got away with nothing but a scratch. “So, what’s our plan for the rest of the night?” Dean asks him, actually checking if Sam wants to hit the road or call it a night. Sam chuckles, assuming he has other intentions with that question. “Considering you have a date with Vicodin girl?” For the second time this evening, Dean experiences a sudden and overwhelming pressure on his chest as he hits the brakes, almost causing the car behind him to crash into his bumper. The driver honks madly and swerves around when the Chevrolet pulls over. “Dude!” Sam exclaims, startled. He doesn’t answer. When they have come to a full stop, Dean glances at his watch instead; it’s 9:15. Frustrated he slams the steering wheel. “Fuck!” “What’s your problem?” Sam returns, stunned. “That’s my problem.” He nods at his rear view mirror.

It’s just now that Sam notices the sirens behind them. He quickly looks over his shoulder and curses, but is surprised to see the police cars pass them. “It’s not even for us, Dean. Would you relax?” Sam doesn’t understand all the fuss. “Oh, it’s for us, alright,” Dean mutters, nodding at the first responders, who make a sharp right to 6th St Southwest, joined by another vehicle from the other direction. “That’s - that’s where our hotel is,” the younger of the two realizes. The driver rubs his face. “I didn’t bolt the door.” With eyes wide open, Sam stares at his brother. “What?!” “I was in a bit of a hurry,” Dean excuses. “I think Vicodin girl walked in on a dead shapeshifter.” “Please tell me you covered our tracks,” his brother pleads. “I didn’t have time for that, Sam! For all I knew I could have been working on a fucking time schedule here! I didn’t know where you were, if you were alive!” he explains, frantically. “Okay, just chill out. You did take our stuff with you, right?” Sam supposes. “Let me think. Who had the car again!?” Dean returns. “You left my laptop in the room?!” Sam exclaims, freaking out. “All our documents, our records, everything is on that computer!” “I wasn’t thinking straight, okay?! I thought you were dead!” Dean shouts back. “At least tell me you brought Dad’s journal,” Sam asserts. He doesn’t need an answer; when he watches Dean’s expression go blank, he knows enough. “Dean, you didn’t,” Sam sighs and runs his hands through his hair frustrated. “We need to get back in there,” Dean states, determined. “Are you nuts? There are cops all over that place!” Sam reminds him. “Everything we know, everything Dad knows, is in that journal. Names, addresses, phone numbers, you have any idea how many people are gonna get in trouble if that book falls into the wrong hands?!” Sam sums up, his voice raised.

Before Sam can continue the argument, Dean’s Rock N’ Roll ringtone cuts through the tension. Irritated, he rummages around in his pocket and takes out his phone. He checks the display before he picks up; he doesn’t know the number. “Hello?” “Hey, Birdbrain.” He recognizes that voice, even though the sounds in the background are so loud that he has difficulty understanding her. He rolls his eyes skyward. “Zo, not now. I have a little bit of a situation here.” “You mean that you left everything you own except for that damn car of yours in the Deep Purple Inn, which just got stormed by the cops?”

Dean stares at the road ahead, flabbergasted. “How the fuck do you know that?” “Because I was just there.” “You were there?” he repeats stunned. Frowning, Sam looks over at his brother, trying to make out what Zoë is saying. “That lizard took my Macbook and my phone up to your room, I had to get it back. Nice job tidying up the place, by the way.” “I was a little busy saving everyone’s ass!” Dean returns. “I went through a hell of a lot of trouble to get your things, but I’ll be happy to dump them alongside the road somewhere if you don’t drop that attitude. Do you want your shit back or not?”

Silence. Dean curses under his breath, turning the speaker away from his mouth so that the huntress doesn’t pick up on it. He absolutely despises it when he’s forced to take a knee. “Yes,” he growls, grinding his teeth while pronouncing the simple three letter word. “I’m gonna make sure I’m out of the state before I pull over, considering shapeshifter-me shot up an entire bar and I just entered the crime scene of my own murder. I advise you to do the same thing.” “Copy that,” Dean agrees. “And our stuff?” “You’ve got my number. Give me a call in a few days.” “Can’t we just meet up somewhere in Iowa?” he proposes. “No can do, I’m heading to Arkansas for a haunting. Not sure how long that’s gonna take. Leave the state, lay low and call me in a few days, got that?” Dean sighs, rolling his eyes. Seems like he doesn’t have a choice. “Got it.” “Oh, and for the sake of public health, when you cross the state border, take a shower at the first truck stop.” With those words, she disconnects. Dean looks down at the phone and scoffs. Un-fucking-believable. “She has our stuff?” Sam has been staring at him all this time, it’s just now that Dean looks him in the eye. “Unfortunately,” Dean confirms and looks in the rear view mirror, before he turns back on the road and hits the gas.

They pass 6th Street Southwest, which is swarming with police. Sam straightens his back, glad that they don’t have to deal with it. He just hopes this isn’t going to come back and bite Dean in the ass later. “That’s murder number two on your police record,” Sam comments. “You sound like Dad,” the older brother mutters. “No, I don’t,” Sam argues. The corner of Dean’s mouth pulls up. “You’d be surprised how much you’re like the old man,” he remarks. Sam changes the subject. “So, what’s our plan?” Dean shrugs, his right hand on the wheel, his left hand in his lap, unburdening his hurting shoulder. He doesn’t take his eyes from the road as he drives south, down highway 63. “According to Sullivan, we should lay low for a few days.” “Sounds fine to me,” Sam agrees. “Where are we going next?” “Arkansas,” Dean announces. The younger Winchester glances aside at his brother. “Why Arkansas?” Dean returns a smug grin. Sam knows that look, he has seen it way too many times. “You’re gonna follow her, aren’t you?” he presumes. “You actually think I’m gonna wait until she has some spare time in her agenda?” Dean chuckles.

It’s not often, but Sam actually agrees with him. They have better things to do, like finding Dad and hunting down the bastard that killed Mom and his girlfriend; he’s going to need the journal and his laptop for that. “Arkansas it is then.” Dean turns up the volume when the first tunes from Cliff Williams’ guitar comes through the speakers. Putting the pedal to the metal, he joins in with the drums and he can’t help but nod his head slightly on the beat. Bon Scott’s peculiar scratchy voice belts out the first verse and the driver gladly joins him. He doesn’t care that his brother shakes his head disapprovingly. There’s just no way he can let AC/DC’s Highway To Hell go by without singing along.

No stop signs, speed limit Nobody's gonna slow me down Like a wheel, gonna spin it Nobody's gonna mess me 'round

Hey Satan, payin' my dues Playin' in a rockin' band Hey momma, look at me I'm on my way to the Promised Land

I'm on the highway to hell Highway to hell I'm on the highway to hell Highway to hell

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Start on episode two here

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marvelsdc22 · 5 years ago

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The Professor And I Season 2 (pt. 4)

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! Sorry for the delay again, I have no time between classes on Tuesdays until after next week, so after next week it’ll be back to normal!! I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: Y/N is a student. Lena is a professor. Lena and Y/N make up, jealousy strikes in more ways than one, we get to know Lara better and even meet one of her friends.

Word Count: 1609

Part 1 2 3

Lena looked up when she heard the door to her office open and smiled, raising a brow when you just stood there, stock-still “Y/N? Everything okay?” She asked, setting the papers in her hands down before going over to you when you still didn’t answer “Baby?” Lena asked softly, gently cupping your face which startled you out of the trance you were just in “What?” You asked, looking at Lena who repeated her question “Oh… Yeah, everything’s fine, you ready?” You asked, trying to shake what you had just realized from your head as Lena gave you a smile and nodded “Yeah, just let me pack up” she said, not believing you but she wouldn’t force it out of you not when you guys were on what seemed like thin ice at the moment.

When you guys got to the restaurant, you went and took a seat where the hostess showed you to, the place not being super fancy since neither of you cared for fancy but it was by far nicer than the diner like you guys usually chose “So, how is teaching going?” You asked, looking at her after you guys ordered drinks “It’s going okay, my classes are definitely not as entertaining as yours was” Lena said, giving you a small smirk that made your face feel like it was on fire “Of course it’s not” you tried to say smoothly, but mostly sounded dumb which made Lena chuckle since she thought it was adorable “How about you? Is Alicia treating you better now?” Lena asked, sounding concerned since she didn’t like how you had been treated before “Yeah, she’s treating me better” you lied, hoping that Lena didn’t see through the lie, but she didn’t have time to respond before the waiter interrupted with drinks and asking for orders.

The dinner was actually a quite relaxing one, as long as you two didn’t bring up Vikander, everything was great until Lena’s phone went off “I gotta take this, I’ll be right back” she promised, flashing you a smile before heading outside to take the call, you figuring it was someone from the school so you didn’t ask who it was, looking down when your phone vibrated with an email from Professor Vikander.

Hello Mr./Miss Y/L/N,

I expect to see you at my office by no later than 6pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we have much to do and no time to dilly dally.

Professor Vikander

[email protected]

You sighed as you read the email, sending a quick ‘Yes ma’am’ just as Lena returned “Sorry, one of my colleagues needed some help… You want to… Head out of here?” Lena asked, giving you a smile and you took one last drink of your drink before nodding and standing up “Of course, I’m all yours” you said, returning the smile before you guys grabbed your things and headed out, her hand never leaving yours the entire way to her apartment and the two of you making up with one another in all the ways possible.

The next day, you woke up to shuffling and the bed moving, you groaning as you opened one eye to see Lena trying to escape your grasp “Good morning to you too” she chuckled, hopping off the bed when you released her “I was going to make us some breakfast” she said, bending down and pressing a kiss to your cheek, earning a sigh from you “Don’t burn the apartment down” you mumbled, knowing that while she could cook some, she still wasn’t the best “So much confidence” she teased, rolling her eyes before she left the room and you rolled over onto your back, trying to wake yourself up when what you thought was your phone went off “Who the hell is calling me this early?” You grumbled, reaching over blindly and grabbing the phone “Hello?” You answered sleepily “This isn’t Lena” you heard Vikander say on the other end, making you clear your throat “Uh no, this is her partner” you said, disguising your voice “She never mentioned anything about a partner… Is she there?” Vikander said, making your heart sink a little, you getting up and heading into the kitchen, handing the phone off to her before slumping on the couch.

You tried not to be jealous, but hearing Lena in there making plans with her wasn’t something you wanted to hear, but you kept your mouth shut until she spoke to you “Sorry about that” Lena apologized, looking over at you and seeing you stewing “Babe, talk to me, what’s going on?” She asked, setting the bowl in her hands down before going and kneeling in front of you, resting her hands on your legs “It’s nothing, just a little jealous” you said, looking at her and wishing you could tell her about Vikander but you needed solid proof, sure you guys were dating but they were also friends “Why didn’t you tell her you had a partner?” You asked softly, looking at her and watching as shock appeared on her face “It never came up” she said, neither of them having talked about their relationships “Then why did she bring it up?” You asked, looking at her and watching as she gave you a helpless shrug “I don’t know… I’m sorry” she apologized, you shaking your head when she apologized “It’s okay… Need help with breakfast?” You asked, smiling when she smiled at you before nodding and the two of you went to finish breakfast.

Later on, you had left when Lena had to get ready for her day, so you were back at your dorm and getting ready to hang out with Kara, Alex, and Lara “You ready yet, Y/N?” Kara called, knocking on the bathroom door “Gimme a moment!” You shouted back, rolling your eyes before checking yourself over once more before you headed out “All yours” you said, giving her a smile before you plopped down on your bed just as someone knocked “It’s open!” You called, checking your phone that was on the bedside table since you were letting it charge “Hey” Lara said, smiling at you when she came in, her hair back in a braid and wearing a black tank top, leather jacket, tan skinny jeans, and some combat boots “Someone knows how to clean up” you teased, earning an eyeroll from Lara before she sat down next to you on the bed, the two of you talking mostly about how your days went until Kara came out “Lets go, Alex is waiting in the parking lot” Kara said, giving Lara a wave in greeting before she pulled on her jacket and grabbed her purse, the three of you heading out shortly after.

After the movie (you were stuck sitting between Kara and Lara), you all headed to the diner for dinner, well late dinner since it was already almost 1am “Good thing it’s the weekend” you chuckled as you collapsed into the booth, pulling your feet out of the way so Lara could sit next to you “If I had my 8am class, I would be dead on my feet” Lara chuckled, propping her arm up on your knees since you were laying back against the wall with your feet up on the booth seat “What are you studying, Lara?” Alex asked, thanking the waiter, Alex, for the waters and you all giving your orders before Lara answered “Archaeology, my dad’s whole life revolved around it and I want to follow his footsteps” She said, taking a sip of her water.

“Oh? Who’s your dad?” You asked, looking at her and watching as she gave a sad smile “Richard Croft… He gave his life for his passion” she said softly, making you wince in sympathy “I’m sorry” you apologized, watching her shake her head “It happened a long time ago, I’ve come to terms with it” she assured, giving you a small smile before thanking Alex when he brought you guys your food, him seeming to stutter as he gave Lara her food “Someone’s lovestruck” Kara teased, taking a bite of her burger and that statement sending a surge of jealousy through you, but you fought it back, you had Lena, this was just a phase “What? No, he’s one of my best friends” she denied, waving off Kara and you raised an eyebrow “How do you know Alex?” You asked, having only met him this year when he transferred in “We have been going to school together for a while” Lara said, looking at you and you nodding before you stuffed your face a bit.

When you got back to the dorm, you guys thanked Alex for the ride before you three tiredly walked into the building and slumped against the walls of the elevator “Thanks again for inviting me” Lara said, looking at the two of you “No problem, it was fun” Kara said, giving her a tired smile and you nodded in agreement “Yeah, we’ll have to do it again, invite some of your friends next time” you said, wanting to meet her friends as well and seeing her eyes light up “Definitely, I think you guys would get along” she said, giving you a smile which you returned “You guys have a good night, I’ll text you, Y/N” Lara said when you guys got to yours and Kara’s room “Of course, have a good night” you said, you and Kara waving tiredly at her, the two of you barely kicking your shoes off and locking the door before you both collapsed into bed, not even caring to take you jeans and socks of before you passed out.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @5aftermidnight / @youngandwildx7 / @stewie-castle

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strangerthingsharrington · 4 years ago

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Can’t Fight This Feeling

-8-

It was another sleepless night. Dreams about gunmen and traps and boxes.

I knew I was in for another long day, but I was wide awake at quarter after six. I got up, got washed and changed into some black running shorts, a pink sports bra, and a loose blue tank top. I figured if I was going to be up, might as well be a bit productive.

I slid my socks and white running shoes on and left the house, locking it behind with a spare key we left outside.

I did my run and waved at some of the neighbours that were outside already grabbing their paper, blissfully unaware of what me and three other teenagers managed to discover.

My little boring town of Hawkins might not have been as boring as I used to think.

But the four of us were going to try and get in there tonight. We were going to uncover the secrets that they were hiding, once we had proof, we would go to Chief Hopper and let him take it from there.

I didn't know what this would all mean moving forward. Were we all going to get out of this alive?

If Dustin ever got put in a position of being in danger, I would do anything, absolutely anything in my power to keep him safe. I always felt an enormous responsibility to make sure he was kept out of harms way. If he came to me with an issue, I would try and help him resolve it. I would be willing to sacrifice anything to keep him safe.

I've always felt a sense of guilt when it came to Dustin, that started the moment we found out about his condition. Then when dad left...I tried to step up in whatever way I could when it came to him. And I thought it was going okay until Dustin started going to Steve for advice and help within the last six months or so.

But...it was like I told Dustin, I guess sometimes you need an older brother type of friend to help out once you get older.

I couldn't even lie...I actually liked this Steve. The one that was just being an overall nice guy.

It was weird spending this time with him. But I knew if I ever got the chance to speak up about what went on in high school I would tell him in the right context.

"Lou?"

I stopped running and looked to my left to a large driveway which led to a large house. The Harrington house. And Steve was standing in the middle of the driveway.

I raised my hand in a wave as I tried to catch my breath.

"Hey," I called over to him before I took a deep breath.

He walked over to me in his Scoops uniform as usual, and his little sailor hat held tightly in his hand.

"Aren't you a little early for work?" I asked him, as I tightened my ponytail. I couldn't have been running more than half an hour.

He looked down at the ground, "Yeah...no it's only just after seven...I was just gonna...drive around till it was time to get you and Dustin."

I furrowed my brow and titled my head slightly, "Oh. You don't like hanging around at home till it's time to go?" I asked, looking over to his house quickly before looking back to him.

He shuffled his feet before he looked back at me with flushed cheeks and sad eyes. I was taken aback for a moment. This was a totally different look to Steve, either old or new Steve.

"No...um, if I can avoid staying here for longer than needed, I will, to be honest," he shrugged.

I realized that maybe I didn't actually know anything about Steve Harrington.

I heard a door open and looked over to the front door of his house, where an intimidating man was leaving, wearing a black suit and carrying a leather briefcase.

Steve cleared his throat and sent a wave to him, "Morning, dad."

Mr. Harrington stopped at the door of his car and looked down the driveway to me and Steve.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready to serve some ice cream?" he asked his son.

I swear I could feel my heart breaking. Just the tone of his voice to his own son was just...wrong. It was snarky and mean. Not in a joking way just plain mean.

Steve forced out a chuckle, "Yeah, I'm on my way, I ran into my friend, Louise," he said motioning to me with his hat.

I smiled and raised my hand, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington."

He looked to me before he opened his car door, "You heading to college this year?" he asked me in lieu of a greeting.

I looked quickly to Steve who was looking at his shoes before I looked back to his dad, "No, I'm actually heading into my senior year at Hawkins High," I explained awkwardly.

His dad nodded, "Take some advice, don't take any study tips from my son, clearly what he was doing didn't help him," he said, directing the last part right to Steve who still refused to look up.

I felt my face flush in embarrassment on behalf of Steve. His dad got into his car and pulled out of the driveway and drove off without a second glance to either of us.

I looked back to Steve and saw that he was now watching me intently. Maybe to see my reaction, to see if I would laugh or ask him anything.

"Steve..." I began, but didn't know what to say. Sorry that your dads an asshole? If he talks to him like that in front of a complete stranger, I could only imagine what is said behind closed doors.

I looked at him, hoping some of the emotions I was feeling were being shown on my face. Just so he would know that I wouldn't ever judge him or anything based on this interaction with his dad.

He grinned softly and nodded a couple times, "Did you want me to drive you home?" he asked.

"Sure," I answered quietly.

"Come on," he said, before waking over to his car, I went to the other side and got in once he unlocked it.

I slid easily into the car and shut the door quietly after me at the same time as Steve.

"Steve," I said quickly, "listen, we don't know each other that well, but if you ever need to talk..."

I looked over at him and saw the appreciation immediately written all over his face as he looked at me. His whole face just looked more relaxed in that moment than it did a minute earlier.

"Thanks, Louise," he said quietly with a shy smile on his face, he looked forward and buckled up and I followed suit before he backed up and started the drive to my house.

"Nervous for tonight?" I asked him after a couple minutes of comfortable silence.

He chuckled and nodded, "I'd be lying if I said no. You?"

"Very," I told him honestly, "but...we've come this far."

"In and out," he explained, "we're getting in, opening the boxes, seeing what's in them and getting the hell outta there."

I breathed out a laugh, "Agreed."

He pulled into the driveway next to my moms car and parked it.

"Thanks for the drive," I told him with a grin.

He smiled back to me, "No problem...I'll be back in a bit to get you guys...around eight?"

"What?" I scoffed with a laughing edge, "Where are you gonna go for forty five minutes?"

He breathed out a laugh and lifted his hand from his steering wheel in a nonchalant manner, "Around," he said lamely.

I smirked, "That's silly," I sighed, "just hang around the house until it's time to go."

"I dont wanna intrude," he began but I shut him down.

"Please," I said easily, "you're more than welcome, Steve. My mom doesn't care, and neither would Dustin, obviously."

"Do you?" he asked quietly, quickly.

"No," I said simply, "I'm the one that invited you, remember?" I told him before opening the door and getting out the car.

He shut off the ignition when I shut the car door and he got out too.

He followed me up to the door where I tried the door to see if mom was up and unlocked it, which she did so I walked in, leaving the door open behind me for Steve.

"Mom!" I called, "Look who I found on my run!"

I walked into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the table with her usual cup of coffee, she smiled at me as I walked in and I swear her smile grew when Steve walked in behind me.

"Steve," she said happily, "how nice to have you back!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Henderson," he said, he he sat at the table across from her, "I told Lou that I didnt wanna intrude."

She waved her hand at him, "Please, you could never intrude," she said warmly to him, "you're welcome anytime," she explained to him.

I could see the happiness in Steve's eyes when she said that. After this morning I had a new found sympathy for Steve. I didn't want to imagine what his dad was like inside the house. This added a new layer to him, of understand him a bit more in my opinion. Bullied kids at home sometimes bully kids at school kinda thing.

I went and grabbed a cup from the cabinet to pour myself some coffee, I opened my mouth to ask Steve if he wanted any but mom got to him first.

"Do you want a drink, Steve?" she asked him.

"Huh, maybe a coffee if there's enough," he said.

"Of course! LuLu, gets some coffee for our guest, won't you?" she asked.

I turned to look at the two of them at the table, he looked at me with a smile, I smiled back before rolling my eyes a bit and poking my moms shoulder, "I was just about to ask him."

She turned in her chair to look at me with a sly smirk, "Well I beat you to it so," she said jokingly.

I stuck my tongue out at her, "Real mature, Louise!" she told me, still smirking.

"Thank you," I sassed back with a smile before I turned back to grab a second cup which I filled with coffee too.

I picked both mugs up and brought them to the table, setting one in front of Steve and the other in front of where I was going to sit next to him.

Mom had the milk and sugar set on the table we were at so I grabbed the sugar and spooned some in before pouring a tiny bit of milk in it.

"How did you two meet up today?" mom asked.

I shrugged and looked to Steve quickly, "I was out running and just happened to run by Steve's house, and he offered to bring me back home."

Mom looked at Steve all doe eyed, "That's so nice of you Steve, thank you," she beamed, "I hope LuLu said thank you too?" she questioned looking to me.

"She did," Steve piped up, "she always does...you raised a...a great daughter, Mrs. Henderson."

My stomach felt tingly and I looked over again him, he was already looking at me with an unreadable expression. But his eyes had a tenderness to them. I smiled softly at him.

"I'm happy to hear that," mom approved.

"Hey...when did you get here?"

I broke eye contact with Steve to see my brother walk into the kitchen with his dumb Roast Beef shirt that I honestly didn't understand.

"Longer than you've been awake," I joked.

"At least it looks like I went to bed, looks like you've been up for three days straight," Dustin prattled back.

"Ha ha," I answered back monotone, before taking a final sip of my coffee.

"I'm going to shower," I said before I stood up and brought my cup to the sink, "have a good day at work," I said, kissing my mom on the cheek before I walked out of the kitchen.

I went to my room quickly, grabbed my new clothes and towel before going across the hall to the washroom.

The whole time I kept thinking about how bad I really felt for Steve. The sad crushed look he had on his face after talking to his dad made me really emotional. I couldn't imagine having a strained relationship like that with my mom.

I finished up and changed into my shorts and light blue loose tank top and white runners once again.

I tossed my other clothes in the hamper on the way out of the bathroom and went back to the kitchen.

"Listen, it's like I told you yesterday, you've gotta find your Suzie, man," Dustin was whisper yelling.

"Dustin, will you just relax for a minute? Eventually I'll find my Suzie or whatever, but we've got a few more pressing issues to deal with, for example, how do we get in that room?" Steve whisper yelled back to my brother.

So Steve was still on the hunt for his own 'Suzie,' maybe Dustin was lending him his dumb pick up lines that, apparently, were failing. But...why did my stomach suddenly drop.

I walked around the corner and into the kitchen, "Yeah, you two can find a girlfriend for Steve tomorrow," I said, trying to hide the tiny trace of sadness I felt through a small joke. What I wasnt expecting was the deer in headlights looks from both of them and Steve's beet red face.

"Oh my gosh, I was joking," I told them with a small smile, "calm down. Steve's right anyways, we've gotta figure out a way into that room. So come on," I told them, taking a step backwards, "let's bust into a storage room and find out what the Russian spies are hiding!" I declared.

Dustin smiled and nodded, getting up from his chair, "Let's do it."

——

Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #dustin henderson #netflix

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atiny-orbit1219 · 4 years ago

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Body Waves

Idol: Wong Yukhei/Lucas from NCT

Prompt: Whenever your mom is too busy with work you’re left taking your little sister to her dance lessons. I’m the midst of being stressed from finals your mom asked you to take your sister to dance. It was safe to say you weren’t happy but you did it anyway. The normal instructor is on leave and taking her place temporarily is her dangerously handsome nephew, Lucas. You find yourself immediately falling for the adorable boy so what are you going to do when he asks if you’d like a private lesson?

Warnings: suggestive?? I don’t know.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You peel the sticky note from the fridge and immediately groan. It was difficult to read your mother’s scratchy writing but you could tell what it said at one glance. “Working late tonight. Take your sister to her dance class please.” You mumble. Normally this wouldn’t be such an issue but finals week is approaching and the time spent watching your little sister twirl around clumsily could be used studying instead. Of course though, you were going to do it. There is no use in arguing with your mother. You’ll just bring your textbooks and do what you can.

After a quick breakfast you were out of the house and off to your college campus to have a day full of iced coffee, tears, and study guides. No one ever told you college was like this, the movies made it seem like two semesters of non stop partying and drinking but so far it's only been non stop crying and stressing. “Hey Y/N! You coming to the library with us? We’re gonna go over the study guide together.” you let out a soft sigh and shake your head. “Can’t… I’d love to but I have to take my littler sister to her dance lesson right after class.” You whine, pulling your bag over your shoulder as your friends give you looks of sympathy.

You head to the parking lot, test questions and answers running through your mind at full speed. You were too busy thinking you almost walked past your car. You groan to yourself, frustrated at how things are playing out. You take a few steps backwards and enter your car, going to pick up your sister from school. Within minutes you arrived at the junior high and watched as your sister jogged over to you and slid into the passenger side.

“The new dance instructor is starting today!” Your sister said excitedly, you two were chatting about your days to pass time and she just remembered that the temporary replacement instructor’s first day is today. The regular instructor is busy birthing a child so her nephew is taking over as he is on holiday from some pretentious dance school in The city. You nod at your sister’s words, your fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “I wonder what he’ll teach you guys.” I hum, curious to how this new guy was gonna handle ten little girls at once. At least now you’ll have some entertainment in the background while you study.

You and your sister were the last to walk through the glass doors of the dance studio, but luckily you weren’t late. You noticed the normal group of moms all huddled, whispering to each other and pointing to the door that led to one of the dance rooms. You of course just figured they were gossiping about something or someone.. typical dance moms.

You follow your sister and the rest of the group into the studio once it was time for the lesson to start. Your head was already buried in the textbook, your eyes scanning the pages as the path to the seats was muscle memory at this point. Except... they weren’t there. Instead a stereo has taken their place. You didn’t notice until it was too late. You tripped on one of the wires, your stomach dropping from fear and surprise as you saw the ground approaching, your textbook falling from your hands as you attempted to catch yourself. You closed your eyes, awaiting your fate to hit the hardwood floor… yet the impact never came. You felt a hand wrap around your arm and pull you against what felt like a brick wall but you soon found out it was your savior’s chest. You gasp in shock as he speaks. “You should really pay attention to where you’re walking.” His voice was lighthearted and his smile was blinding as he looked down at you.

You had to blink a few times to make sure this was real. You looked up at him, his tan face, gorgeous smile, beautiful brown eyes, and perfect hair… there’s no possible way someone this good looking was standing this close to you. “Oh! Well uh- you know- t-the chairs! They’re usually here.” You stutter like a complete idiot as all knowledge of basic human functions leaves your brain to make room for every little detail of him to be sealed in your mind forever. He just laughs and you swear it was the sound you hear as you enter Heaven’s gates. “Sorry.. I moved them to the other side to match my studio back at home.., it was a bit confusing.” He explains and you could only dumbly nod along.

He finally lets you go and reaches down, grabbing your textbook from the floor and holding it out for you. “Oh.. I heard this class is brutal.. good luck!” He says with a charming smile. You reach out, grasping the book tightly as you let out a small laugh. “Thank you! And yeah it’s a bit tough.. but probably not as tough as teaching these girls so good luck to you as well.” You hum before turning around to take a seat with all the other moms. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, your cheeks still red from the encounter as you pretended to read the book while you actually listened to the stranger introduce himself.

“Hello! My name is Lucas!” He said, his deep voice filling the room causing you to almost melt into the chair. “My aunt is currently on maternity leave so that means you're stuck with me for a few months.” He joked. The girls laughed as he continued. “Your teacher gave me your recital song and I have free reign on choreography so let’s make this something no ones ever seen before yeah?” Lucas smiles his heart stopping smile before leading the girls through stretches.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. No matter how hard you tried you always found yourself staring at his body while he taught. Every now and then he’d feel your eyes and turn to look at you, which you would quickly look down at the book in your lap. This boy had you and the other moms wrapped around his finger. All they talked about was how good looking he was and how taking off their wedding rings sounded like a great idea at the moment.

The hour passed by in what felt like minutes and soon it was time to go. You bite your lip, waving a goodbye to Lucas before gathering your sister and going home.

The next few weeks you practically begged your mom to let you take your sister to dance class. Finals were over and now you could let yourself become completely infatuated with Lucas. The previous week he asked you how your test had gone and you felt your knees go weak. He remembered!! You could almost squeal at how happy it made you. You knew you were acting like a middle school girl with a crush but you couldn’t help it.. Lucas is hands down the best looking man you’ve ever seen and he’s also caring, funny, sweet and just… perfect.

After another hour of watching Lucas magically keep the attention of the girls, the class came to an end and like every other day you go to wave goodbye and collect your sister so you two could drive home and you can rant about just how gorgeous Lucas looked today.

“Hey! Y/n!” You were stopped in your tracks as Lucas jogged over to you. You turn around to face him, your heart skipping a beat just from the close proximity. “Oh hey Lucas! Did my sister leave her shoes again because I swear I’m gonna start glueing them to her feet.” You pout and Lucas can only smile. “No not this time… Although your sister did tell me you were interested in dancing.” Your eyes went wide at his words. “Did she now?” You ask cluelessly, your gaze shifting to your sister giving you a thumbs up and a cheeky smile from behind Lucas’s back. This little brat- “If you’d like I can give you a few… private lessons?” Lucas offered. Scratch that, your sister is an angel and you will definitely get her ice cream on the way home. “Really? You’d do that?” You ask, a blush forming at the idea of being alone with Lucas. “Yeah! I need the teaching experience and my aunt gave me the keys to the studio… so maybe you can come by Friday night after close?” He asked with a shy smile which you returned. “Okay! Sounds great! I’ll see you then.. I guess.” You say nervously and Lucas nods. “See you then.”

As Friday night finally comes you find yourself panicked. “What do I wear? What do I say? You put me in this mess! Help me!” You order your sister who just laid on your bed to watch the chaos unfold. “Wear the one black tank top with your leggings, black is so your sweat stains don’t show.” She says calmly. “You’re a genius.” You say as you gather the outfit and get dressed. “Hair up or down?” You ask for advice once more. “Wear it down then before the lesson starts put it up while he’s watching… guys like that.” You nod, putting the hair tie on your wrist for later. “How do I look?” You wait for your final evaluation as your sister stands up to get a closer look. She lifts your arm, takes a sniff, then hums in approval. “You’re ready my young grasshopper.” You shove her shoulder but smile anyways. “I’m ready…” you say softly before grabbing your keys and purse before heading to the studio.

You see Lucas’s car already in the parking lot as you take a deep breath. He’s just a guy teaching you a few dance steps.. you repeat this as you enter the building. You find Lucas in the studio and he smiles as you walk in. “Hey.” He said softly. “Hi.” You reply. “I went ahead and picked the song and choreographed everything.” You were surprised at how prepared he was and it only made you fall further for him. “Just so you know I have two left feet and no rhythm.” You exaggerate and Lucas laughs. “I’m sure that’s not true… plus… you have me to guide you.” You blush at his comment but nod your head.

You remember the hair tie on your wrist and gulp nervously before bringing your hands up to your hair. You could feel Lucas’s eyes on you as you gather the strands into a low ponytail. After he knew he was caught staring he just cleared his throat and walked over to the middle of the dance floor. “Okay.. you ready?” He asked. You walked over to his side, “ready.”

You were not expecting the choreo to be this touchy. Once Lucas started showing you the moves and you felt his large hands on your waist you almost lost the ability to function. You somehow managed to keep up with him though as he instructed you on how to move your body with his. Soon you were ready to dance with the music. The low base filled the room as you immerse yourself into the dance so you wouldn’t focus on your body pressed against Lucas’s. There was one move where your back was pressed against Lucas’s chest and you swayed your hips against him. While learning the move you were careful about leaving some space between you two but you decide to take the risk as you grow drunk on Lucas’s touch. He noticed your change in confidence and couldn’t help but smile but that smile soon faltered. He choreographed this dance.. he should’ve known better than putting in a move where you are literally just grinding on him.

Lucas tried to continue to the next move where he turned you around to face him and he stopped there, the dance long forgotten as you give him a confused look. “Why did you st-“ Lucas leaned down, cupping your face with both hands and captured your lips with his. You didn’t hesitate and kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as he pulled you closer, his lips moving expertly against yours. You’ve dreamt this moment over and over again but you never thought it would feel this good. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as Lucas slowly pulled away, a small smile on his face. You smiled back, an unspoken understanding flooding both of you as you jumped up into his arms. He catches you effortlessly and your lips are on his again.

You kissed until you felt lightheaded from lack of oxygen, your back pressed against the cold glass of the mirror as you studied Lucas’s face from up close. His messy hair from your hands, his swollen lips from your kiss, his eyes full of admiration for you.. your mark was on him and even though you couldn’t see yourself you’re sure his was on you too. And if not it sure was gonna be as his lips traveled to your neck. You were never going to complain about taking your sister to dance class again.

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ificanthaveu · 5 years ago

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Epilogue: Roommates, First Downs and Promises || The DropBack || Shawn Mendes

Description: One year later, you make the short trip to UCLA for the USC game and for your first anniversary.

A/N: I am SO SORRY this is late, but ya girl was swamped this weekend. And as an apology, you’re getting a second epilogue!!! Yay!!!

Word Count: 2.1k

This is an epilogue to a series! Catch up before you read this part!

Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited outside Elsie’s dorm room with Matthew. You were two seconds away from smacking him since he couldn’t stop humming some song you listened to on the way over here. Matthew was going to your hometown’s technical college, and since you didn’t have a vehicle on campus, he had to swing by and pick you up before heading to UCLA for the game.

The humming continued.

“Matthew, I’ve only been with you for forty-five minutes, and I already can’t wait for you to leave,” you said a little louder than intended.

The humming stopped, and Matthew scoffed, “You’re acting all mean, but we all know you missed me. You haven’t gone more than a week without seeing me in years. Admit it, your heartbroken.”

You shook your head and forced out a laugh, “I’ll admit it once Elsie is on time for something for once.”

“Oh, that will never happen then, huh?” He said with a small frown.

You pulled out your phone and called her for the fourth time. The three of you needed to get to the game, but you couldn’t get into her dorm building and half the school was already there.

“Hello?” She finally picked up.

“El, Matthew and I have been sitting here for fifteen minutes. Please get down here,” you said a little too dramatically.

“OH, shit. On my way!” You heard some rustling before she hung up.

Minutes later she was swinging the door open and sprinting into Matthew’s arms. The two hugged for just a minute too long as you coughed a little. She finally let go and enveloped you in a hug.

“I know it’s only been two weeks since I last saw you, but this shit is hard,” Elsie mumbled into your shoulder.

“I know,” you mumbled back.

She pulled away from you and handed over the jersey in her hand.

“Shawn told me to give this to you,” she said with a small smile.

You smiled back and slipped on his jersey over your tank top. You swore you’d never wear UCLA colors or anything related to them, but you guessed you were allowed to bend the rules for Shawn.

“Alright, we’re going to be late,” Matthew finally said. The three of you started the walk to the stadium a few blocks from Elsie’s dorm.

“How’s the roommate?” You asked Elsie.

She rolled her eyes before saying, “Getting better. Her boyfriend isn’t coming over every night anymore, but she now comes back at 3:00 am, incredibly loud, on school nights.”

“Have you talked to someone about switching at semester?” You asked.

She shrugged, “I don’t know if it’d be worth it. I’d probably just get stuck with another problem.”

“Hey, if you have to transfer to USC, I won’t complain,” you said with a smirk.

“I would never betray my school like that. You’ll be wanting to transfer here once we kick your ass today,” she taunted.

You fawned offense. “There’s no way you’re going to beat us. We’re undefeated so far, and who’s not undefeated? Oh, yeah, that’s right…” you shot back at her.

“I can’t believe you would be so rude to Shawn the day before your anniversary. My heart hurts for you,” she said while placing a hand to her chest.

“I hope Shawn has a great game. I just hope the rest of your team chokes,” you said with a smile.

—

In your opinion, UCLA’s stands were not nearly as lively as USC’s, but you’d just have to deal with it for today. You and Elsie agreed sitting in a neutral zone would be your best option since you wouldn’t be caught dead in UCLA’s student section, and she wouldn’t be caught dead in USC’s.

So here you were, screaming your lungs off for both teams, in the smack dab middle of the two student sections. Both teams had just run out on the field, and you could spot Shawn on the sidelines during the kickoff. It’d been two weeks since you’d last seen Shawn when he and Elsie visited you, and it had been three months since you both moved into your respective colleges. The thirty-minute drive was nothing but with your course load, Shawn’s football schedule and all the freshman welcoming activities you all had to do, finding time to see each other was difficult. But you both promised each other you’d try your hardest to see each other as often as possible. And as the welcome activities finally died down, you tried seeing each other, at the very least, every other week. Sure, this wasn’t “long-distance,” but it was as long as the two of you ever had to go.

David was starting, and Shawn was lucky enough to be second-string this year as a freshman. You thought, hopefully, he’d get in before halftime.

David had scored a touchdown, and after the following kick off, Shawn ran out on to the field. There couldn’t have been a better two minutes of the game. You, Elsie and Matthew were screaming your heads off as the ball was thrown to Shawn, and he got the first down. You could even see David cheering on the sidelines.

The whole game was neck and neck. Surprisingly enough, you and Elsie didn’t fight or trash talk once it got into it. You’d be fine with whoever won, even though you were a little impartial to USC. On the other hand, you wanted Shawn to be happy.

It was within the final few seconds that UCLA kicked the game-winning field goal, and the stands erupted. You laughed as Elsie jumped up and down and rubbed it in your face. You weren’t living this one down.

The three of you sprinted out of the stadium and to the back entrance where UCLA’s team would be coming out shortly.

One by one, players started to come out to find family and friends that were waiting for them. Shawn’s parents came to wait by you guys after a few minutes.

You saw Shawn walk out and scan over the crowd. Before he even saw you, you were running towards him, dodging people in your way. His eyes met yours just moments before you were jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms and legs tightly around him.

“You did so good,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

You could feel him laugh as he tightened his grip on you.

“I missed you so much, baby girl,” he whispered back to you.

“I love you,” you said softly, just for him to hear.

“I love you, too,” he whispered before setting you down to greet Matthew, Elsie and his parents. Once he’d hugged everyone, you were glued to his side, and his arm stayed tightly around your waist.

“How are you taking the loss, [Y/N]? Hurt just as much as you thought it would?” Mrs. Mendes said with sympathy.

You pressed your hand to your heart and nodded your head.

“You know, I really didn’t care who won this game. It was a win-win in my book,” you responded.

Elsie scoffed, “That’s not what she was saying four hours ago.”

“Our record’s still better,” you sing-songed as Shawn squeezed your side.

“Ouch,” he mumbled.

You hit his chest lightly as he shook his head at you.

“All out of love, babe,” you reminded him.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he sarcastically affirmed as you began to talk towards the other exit to find David.

After weaving in and out of groups, you found him leaning against the wall talking to his girlfriend of six months, Adalia.

You gave David a quick hug before he greeted everyone else.

“Shawn, I’m disappointed, but congratulations,” David said with a forced smile. Shawn shook his head and tried not to smile too big.

“Thanks. It was a pleasure finally being able to play you,” he said.

“We’ll get you next time. Whether it be playoffs or next year, I will beat your ass at some point,” David said nonchalantly.

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Shawn said with a smirk.

“[Y/N], are you staying this weekend?” Adalia asked you.

You nodded your head before looking at Shawn. “Our one year is tomorrow,” you said as she smiled at the two of you.

“And here you didn’t believe in love,” Elsie mumbled under her breath.

“The world works in mysterious ways,” David said as he wrapped an arm around Adalia.

—

You spent the rest of the night in Shawn’s dorm, cuddled underneath a pile of blankets, binge-watching The Office. Lucky for the two of you, his roommate was gone this weekend, so you had some much needed alone time.

The next morning you woke up as the sun peeked through the window. You curled into Shawn even more, the twin size bed barely being able to hold the two of you, but you made it work.

You felt him shuffle next to you and watched as his eyes slowly opened.

“Happy anniversary,” you whispered to him with a small smile.

He smiled back at you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Best year of my life,” he mumbled.

“What’s the plan today, Mendes?” You said as you rested your chin on his chest.

“I plan on laying in this bed with you until early afternoon,” he mumbled as he dug his head deeper in the pillow. “And then dinner at your favorite restaurant at 7:00.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said as you rested your head against his arm again, falling back asleep a few moments later.

—

You went to Elsie’s dorm to get ready for the evening as Shawn got ready in his with Matthew. You finished some final touches on your makeup as you heard a knock on her door and Elsie talking to Shawn and Matthew shortly after.

You stepped out of the small bathroom and did a little twirl in the new dress you bought for the night before pulling Shawn in for a hug.

“I’m so damn lucky,” he mumbled as he held you tight.

You both said goodbye to Elsie and Matthew before starting the long walk to Shawn’s car in the farthest lot on campus. Thank God you didn’t wear heels.

He swung your hands back and forth as you talked about everything and anything until you finally got to Shawn’s car and started the drive to the restaurant.

You were seated immediately, and neither of you had to even look at the menus since you’d been here quite a few times.

Shawn played with your hand from across the table, lightly touching your nails you’d just gotten done.

“I love you,” he said out of nowhere as he looked up at you.

You smiled back at him and held on to his hand before saying, “Love you more.”

“Not possible,” he said with that dopey smile he’d get.

Your food came and you talked while you ate before walking to the park down the street. You settled onto a bench to watch the sunset over the trees.

“I got you something,” Shawn said softly as he pulled out a small box from his pocket.

“You weren’t supposed to get me anything,” you said as you crinkled your nose at him.

“Well, you aren’t sneaky, so I know you have something for me back at my dorm. And Elsie told me,” he said with a smirk.

“I hate that the two of you are actually real friends now,” you said as he handed you the box.

You slowly unwrapped it and opened it up to see a delicate ring with a small topaz in the center.

“Shawn,” you gasped as you ran your finger across the ring. “It’s perfect.”

He pulled the box out of your hand, took the ring out and slid it onto your finger. You smiled up at him and leaned in to press a long kiss to his lips. You pulled away and held his face softly in your hand, running your thumb lightly across your cheekbone.

“That’s going to be an engagement ring someday,” he said as he looked down at it. He looked you in the eyes before continuing, “I promise.”

“Really?” You said quietly.

He nodded his head. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you,” he paused. “I can’t even describe the feeling. I just know.”

You kissed him quickly as you both smiled through it.

“I can’t wait,” you whispered against his lips before he kissed you again.

And from the year you’d spent with Shawn, there was one thing you were sure of.

He always kept his promises.

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we-dont-have-a-side-anymore · 5 years ago

Text

Of Birthdays And Binders

Ship: Agender!Aziraphale x Genderfluid!Crowley x FtM!Reader

Content Warning: Gender dysphoria, mention of transphobia, reader had been disowned and kicked out prior to the story (brief mention, but might as well throw it out there.)

Summary: His birthday, and only two people cared. Not even people, two beings cared. No people. Don’t question why a legal adult with his own apartment can’t afford a new binder...? Convenient plot device. This can be read as FtM OR masc!nb. I use he/him the whole time.

—————

He woke up alone. Not only in the literal sense of being alone in bed, but no one had made any attempts to contact him. The street was unusually quiet too. It was like the one day where he wanted to be surrounded by people, he was…

Alone.

His second alarm rang, and he rolled himself off of his bed and onto his pile of plush pillows. His phone buzzed. Twice. Reaching for his phone, he yawned, expecting it to be a notification from Twitter or Instagram. So naturally, it wasn’t.

It was two texts.

‘Hello, darling! Happy birthday! I have a surprise for you, so if you could pop on by the bookshop at noon, that would be lovely. I love you, (y/n)!’ Azi’s texts never failed to make him wiggle with joy. They were full of gentle, affectionate words, oh so different from what he was accustomed to.

‘Someone told me it was my favorite baby goat’s birthday today. <3 So I figured I’d stop by in 30. You don’t need to do anything, just be in your flat. Love you, handsome ;)’ If someone walked up to (y/n) and said that the demon Crowley invented emoticons, he would believe it. Nonetheless, his texts were always flattering and made him feel appreciated.

He sent them both a heart emoji, and went to get dressed. Dressing didn’t really require much effort. He slept in his clothes, with the noteable exception of his old, beat up binder.

He had bought it in secret when he was sixteen years old. Had it shipped to his friend’s house, and paid for it with his birthday money. He almost got away with it, too, until his parents walked in on him washing it.

They were quick to start yelling at him. Calling him a sinner, a disgrace. They told him that if he was going to be a tranny, that he would do it far, far away from them.

So he packed his duffel bag, bought the cheapest ticket to London that he could find, and he left Massachusetts for good. Cut all ties with his blood relatives, and texted his friends goodbye.

Now, four years later, he had two loving boyfriends, and his life was getting back on track. Every weekday he worked a nine to five job at a diner, which paid just enough to pay rent, buy food, and pay his cell phone bill. He had some money set away for education, and medical expenses. But he still only had his old, beat up binder. It didn’t bind very well anymore, it was so stretched out. He couldn’t really afford to spend so much on one thing, no matter how happy it would make him. Money was tight, but what did he expect, being a high school dropout? He would give anything to have completed high school back in his hometown, but life didn’t work in his favor.

He sighed and shrugged it on, then pulled his oversized T-shirt back on. Five minutes until Crowley said he would arrive. Then, three knocks. Quick, sharp raps on the thin plaster door. (Y/n) rushed to open the door, and his boyfriend blew the birthday song on a tacky kazoo.

He laughed and opened the door wider so that the redhead could step in, playfully slapping his ass as he sauntered towards the couch.

“Happy birthday, hot stuff!” Crowley smirked, the pointed tips of his tongue showing slightly. He pulled out a small box. There was wrapping paper on it, but he could hardly call it wrapped. An attempt at wrapping was most likely made, but that’s really the extent of it. “I think you’re gonna like this.”

(Y/n)’s eyes softened. “Oh, you really didn’t have to.”

The look on Crowley’s fact could only be described as offended. “Oh, baby goat, I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. It’s your twentieth birthday, and the first birthday since we started dating. This is special. Now, take the box and open it, hm?”

He laughs and grabs the box, pulling it sharply and sending the demon flying into (y/n)’s arms. “I love you, my love.”

The tape was slowly peeled off, and the box flaps popped open. Inside was a full-tank, nude binder. In his size.

He stared in silent shock, eyes wide and teary. “Oh my God.” He pinched himself twice, before tackling his boyfriend into the old couch. He tenderly kissed the tip of his nose, smiling widely. “You got me a new binder. You actually got me a new binder. Oh my goodness.”

Crowley ruffled his hair affectionately. “Well? Go try it on!” His smile only got wider as (y/n) sprinted into the bathroom to put it on. After a couple minutes of silence, (y/n) yelled from the bathroom.

“Erm...sweetheart, darling, sweetcheeks, pretty boy, love, sexy ass, hottie, aha, erm…” he trailed off, and Crowley knew immediately that he had done something stupid. “How would you respond if I said I was stuck?”

Biting back a laugh, Crowley started walking towards the bathroom. “I’ll come help, hot stuff.”

He was indeed stuck in the new binder. It had been quite a long time since he had put on something so tight, and while he was euphoric, he had forgotten how difficult it was. Most of the binder was on properly, except for his arms. Somehow, he managed to get his arms stuck along his torso, and it was too tight for him to wiggle them out. Crowley’s face scrunched in a snicker that was met with an indignant pout.

“Oh poo, love.” He sticks his tongue out, and attempts to cross his arms (this doesn’t go well).

Crowley mock gasps. “So you don’t want my help?” Immediately, (y/n)’s eyes switch into a very persuasive puppy dog impression.

“Please?” He wriggles pathetically, in an attempt to invoke sympathy. “Pretty please?”

Crowley deadpans. “The physical appearance of the please has no effect on me.” But with a snap of his fingers, (y/n)’s arms were through the proper place, and he wasn’t stuck anymore.

Immediately, he ran up to the demon and tackled him. The twenty year old peppered his face with gentle pecks until he was breathless, finally pulling away to bury his head in Crowley’s shoulder. “Thank you, Crowley. Thank you so much.”

They spent the next couple hours cuddling on the couch, spooning with Crowley whispering sweet nothings to his boyfriend. Before they knew it, it was a few minutes to noon. Crowley pulled him up, and snapped his fingers. Instead of being in a small, musty flat, they were standing in an alleyway next to an even mustier bookshop.

A. Z. Fell & Co. Antiquarian and Unusual Books. Where his other darling boyfriend lived. As the clock struck noon, Crowley burst into the bookshelf and held the door open for his more timid boyfriend.

His eyes lit up when he saw a cake, and three mugs of cocoa. By no means was it small, in fact, it was the size of a traditional wedding cake. Large and extravagant. Aziraphale burst out of the back room and jogged over to his boyfriends. “Oh, happy birthday my darling boy!” He reached over (y/n)’s shoulder and pulled him into a tender hug and kiss on the top of the head. “Now come, else the cocoa will get cold.”

The three of them sat at the table. The angel pulled out a daintily wrapped, but rather large package. It was covered in a creamy white paper, and tied with little blue bows. Crowley nudged (y/n), prompting the boy to blush and tug the box from his boyfriend’s hand. “Gosh, you guys, you really shouldn’t have done all of this stuff.” He carefully untied all of the bows, and peeled the tape away. Everything was perfectly intact, except Crowley’s patience. “Honest, I don’t deserve any o-” (Y/n)’s eyes widened as Crowley leaned over and kissed the human until he had to pull away for air.

Wordlessly, the redhead poked the brown box, and his boyfriend got the message. He opened the box eagerly, and his eyes widened once again. Tears welled in his eyes and an infectious smile spread across his face. The box fell to the floor as a trans flag emerged.

Aziraphale’s eyes closed in a giddy giggle. “Look in the box again!” His bright eyes opened, and it was clear that watching (y/n) open gifts brought him joy. He did what he was told, picking the box up, only to drop it again.

“Oh, wow!” He cooed, awestruck. A hand-knit throw blanket, that doubled as a rainbow pride flag. “Oh, I love it! Did you-?”

Aziraphale cut him off with an excited hug. “Oh, I did hope that you would like it! I learned how to knit right before we began courting, and the day we, er, performed coitus, I knew exactly what to do!”

Crowley’s mouth dropped. “You didn’t use miracles? When you said you were going to make a blanket for him, I didn’t think you would spend a year making it.” Aziraphale blushed, and twiddled his thumbs. (Y/n) kissed both their cheeks lightly.

“I love you two, so much. I don’t deserve you, honestly.” He tugged them over to the plush couch and threw the blanket over the trio. Safe, warm, and happy. Just how life should be.

#crowley good omens #crowley #good omens #gender neutral reader #good omens fluff #aziraphale good omens #crowley x reader x aziraphale #aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #dysphoria #binding #ftm reader #nonbinary reader #masc reader #fluff #fluff fanfic #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction

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the-lady-frost · 5 years ago

Text

The Plummet

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13375997/1/The-Plummet

https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyFrost

A/N: This is a one-shot Cleon.

-The Plummet –

Day 1:

8:17 a.m.

"What are you saying to me?"

"I'm saying it's bad. It's bad. He fell, Claire. The details are limited. But they're saying he fell. It's all over the office. He was in the Silverback Mountains. And he…fell." Moira's voice was so soft. It was so tender. She was being so gentle about it.

Was there a gentle way to tell someone their world had fractured?

Claire shifted where she sat, feeling the warm sun on her cold face. "Leon Kennedy doesn't fall, Moira. He flies. Where is he?"

"Hawaii. They've got him in a safe house there. It's not good. The reports are limited. But Claire…?"

Claire was already rising. She was already paying the check.

"What?"

"They're saying it looks like he's paralyzed."

Her fist closed around the bills in it. She crushed them. She crushed them in her fist while she pictured her best friend in the world in a wheelchair…broken.

"I'm coming. Tell him, I'm coming. I'm already there."

Leon Kennedy was broken.

There was no place else in the world she'd be now than at his side to help him rise again.

......

Day 10:

5:16 p.m.

The cup hit the far wall. It burst and threw water in a wet mess. The physical therapy assistant cowered, shaking.

"GET OUT! You fucking twit! You IDIOT! Get out and leave me the fuck alone!"

The girl bumped into Claire as she fled, crying.

In the doorway, the redhead leaned, watching him. He was paralyzed. The swelling around his spine was impossible to determine to an extent. Maybe he'd walked. Maybe he'd never walk again. It was too soon to tell.

But he wasn't dealing with it well.

He was so angry.

A god of a man-made mortal by a fall to Earth. He'd lost a battle on that mountaintop and plummeted. And it had broken his wings. His face said he'd never fly again.

Claire? She didn't believe any of it. She never had. She'd seen him get up with a bullet in his chest and fight on. She'd seen him climb out of the dark and battle back from the abyss. She knew he was capable of getting out of that chair.

She just had to get him to believe it too.

His face was heavy with a beard. He was a little smelly and a little dirty and ripe. He would NOT allow the nurse with them to bathe him. "A fucking bed bath? Like some invalid!? Get the fuck out of here!"

So, he sat in his stench and marinated like a piece of chicken.

Claire eyed him now, brow lifted.

He sneered a little. "What? You too? Come to stare at Humpty Dumpty? Go ahead, laugh. It's not like I can get up and slap the fuck out of you for it. So, chuckle it up. Why not? Har Har."

Claire shifted into the room. She shook her head and picked up the blanket that had fallen off his lap to tangle in his wheelchair wheels. He gave her a dirty look as she placed it on his lap and tucked it around him.

"You're being a big baby, Leon. You know that."

"I give a fuck, seriously. Am I not entitled? I'm a fucking cripple, Claire. You want me to be thrilled about it? Maybe I can have a party? A cripple party. We can have wheelchair races and play "who's piss bag is fuller". Because remember, I CAN'T FEEL MY FUCKING DICK TO TAKE A PISS BY MYSELF."

Claire knelt in front of him, giving him no sympathy. Although she felt it. It rolled in her and made her ache for him. But that wouldn't help him here.

"You're pissed, and that's ok. That's right on. I'd be fucking pissed too. What happened to you? It fucking sucks shit. It's awful. It's really fucking bad. But you're not dead, Leon. You're just wounded. So, you can choose to sit here and curse the Heavens and gnash your teeth and gripe at the world…or you can start working on getting out of that goddamn chair. Your choice."

She rose and turned to leave him to his misery.

He called, "Hey! Can you give me my cup back at least? I'm thirsty."

Claire gave him a cool look over her shoulder, "Get it yourself. We both know you can."

He cursed her as she left the room.

.....

Day 32:

11:14 a.m.

"Why won't you just GO already!? Get out of here and leave me alone! I said I can't get up there again. So, leave it THE FUCK alone, Claire!"

She eyed him across the PT bars that waited for him to mount them with his hands and pull himself up. She was sweaty. He was sweaty. They were both exhausted and on edge and angry. He resisted her at every turn.

He gave up. He whined. He was a real pain in the ass.

Where was Leon Kennedy? This was his shadow. This was his doppelganger made of weakness and regret. She needed him purged to find the real Leon in that shell.

The beard was ridiculous. He was so stinky it hurt the nostrils. He was getting worse instead of better.

And she'd had enough.

She knelt in her tank top and yoga pants. The muscles in her arms bulged as she grabbed his filthy shirt and jerked him out of the chair. He shouted; she cursed, and she threw him on the bars.

He could either grab them or fall to the floor on his face.

He grabbed them.

"BITCH!"

"Shut up! Enough of your crying. ENOUGH. Put your fucking feet down and WALK!"

"I CAN'T! Do you hear me!? Are you deaf!? I CAN'T WALK!"

"YOU CAN! YOU'RE JUST NOT TRYING HARD ENOUGH!"

He was shaking. He was panting. His arms bulged beautifully beneath the dirty shirt with muscles that glistened. He was in pristine shape. He was better off than any other man alive. He could do this. He just didn't want to. He didn't want to. Because if he did it and failed…well…then he wouldn't be Leon Kennedy anymore.

He'd just be a mortal man.

And Claire was afraid the fear of that would defeat him.

She ducked under the bar. She grabbed his thighs in her hands. She looked up the line of his filthy body and spit, from between her teeth, "Move your goddamn legs, Kennedy. And stop bitching. You want to me to stop? I'll stop when you MOVE!"

He cursed at her.

But he grunted…and he moved his left leg. He grunted…and he moved his right leg.

Claire steadied his hips. She held on but she didn't help. She crouched on the floor while he cursed her…and kept on pushing.

.......

Day 36:

11:02 p.m.

"He won't relent, Ms. Redfield. I begged. I pleaded. He won't let me help."

The poor nurse. She was trying so hard. Leon was belligerent. He was rude. He was hateful. He was so angry at the world. At himself. At his body for failing him.

The swelling was coming down. The spine was intact. But it was still too soon to know how bad the damage was otherwise. He was slipping further down with each day that passed.

She could force him to do the work in physical therapy. But it was always trying. It was always tiring. It was always emotionally exhausting. They shouted at each other. They fought.

She left him afterward shaking and raw.

They weren't best friends anymore. Not like this. She hated him. Because he was letting this destroy him.

"It's ok, Kara. I'll take care of him. Thank you."

Claire went into the huge bathroom. It was steamy. Kara had run him a bath at Claire's instruction.

Naturally, Leon wouldn't get in.

The tub was huge. A whirl meant for a trainer and a subject. It was big enough for five people. It was mostly a hot tub meant to promote muscle and nerve stimulation.

It swirled hot water and bubbles in the quiet room.

Claire eyed him in his chair. He was all beard and angry eyes. He'd been wearing the same clothes for so long she figured they'd probably have their own zipcode by now. They were stuck to him like glue with old sweat and stench.

Enough was enough here.

Claire moved toward him. He eyed her angrily. "What are you doing?"

She said nothing. She grabbed his blanket and jerked it off him. He wrestled her for it and lost. Claire grabbed his shirt and he slapped at her hands. "Quit!"

"No!" She shouted in his face now. "NO! Take it off, you son of a bitch or I will kill you!"

"Get out! LEAVE ME ALONE! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU!? Go away, Claire! Before I say something I regret and we aren't friends anymore."

"Leon…you douchebag. We're already there." She turned to the nurse's cart in the corner. He watched her, eyes narrowed.

She rattled drawers, searching, and finally turned back…with a pair of shears.

He blinked and grabbed for his wheelchair wheels. Claire stuck a boot in the wheel and went around back. She hit the lock pedal and stuck him there.

Furious, he shouted, "Don't you do it, Claire! I mean it!"

She put the shears against his eye and snapped them. He froze, fuming.

"Shut up. You hear me? You shut up. Not another fucking word. Or I will rip off your pants and make you a eunuch. Do you hear me?"

She put the shears to the neck of his dirty shirt and started cutting.

She cut it down the center and ripped it. She ripped it off his arms while he sat there, roasting in his righteous anger.

Her hands shifted to his pants and he slapped at them. She narrowed her eyes and snapped the shears again.

He dropped his hands with a curse.

She jerked open his fly and yanked his pants down his legs. She did the same with his underwear. He would NOT look at her.

Not even a little bit.

She shoved him back in his chair and turned to the sink. She dug through drawers and found a bar of soap. And then she turned back to him.

"Easy or hard, Leon. Your choice here."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Hard it was.

Which he was. His body was redonkulous. He was all muscle. He was scarred pretty heavily but that happened in his line of work. His hips and legs and tummy were all beautifully made. His chest and shoulders were crisscrossed in places with claw marks and bullet wounds and slashes.

It just made him look like a survivor. It made him beautiful. He was beautifully made.

No lie there.

For a big fat baby.

Claire set down the soap and whipped her hair up into a sloppy knot on top of her head. She kicked off her shoes and unlatched her belt.

His angry eyes turned to her. "What are you doing there?"

"What does it look like? I'm getting naked so I can put your stinky ass in the bath. Don't be such a girl, Kennedy. You've seen plenty of women in their birthday suit. Nothing new to see here."

But there was. He'd never seen her naked. Not in twenty years of friendship. Not once.

She was all curves and creamy skin. Freckles danced over her shoulders and her cleavage. Her breasts were nearly too much in the ugly white bra she was wearing. She was all tits and ass and hips. Stocky, strong. Her smooth flat belly flared nicely to show her hourglass shape to the soft bathroom lights.

She stripped off the bra and her breasts bounced beautifully over her ribs. Her nipples were pink and pale. And tight. Why were her nipples tight? Anger? Jesus.

He looked away, jaw clenched.

And then she pulled her panties off. And her little red mound made him shift in the wheelchair.

Unconcerned, Claire set the soap down on the tub and turned around. "Last chance. Easy or hard?"

What a question. He glanced down at his lap. And he wasn't. He wasn't hard.

But he wanted to be. For her. He wanted to be hard.

And it rolled in his guts like fire that he wasn't. That he couldn't.

And he was out of time here. Because Claire grabbed him and jerked up from his chair. She stumbled under his weight and he had to grab on to her shoulders so she didn't fall.

"Jesus, Claire. Take it easy. You're gonna hurt yourself."

"Then HELP ME, you asshole."

She shifted and settled his arm over her shoulders. He grunted and started helping. She felt something shift in her. Because he just started helping.

No fighting.

He just helped.

He did pretty well in the small distance to the tub. But it tired him. He was pretty easy to urge into the warm water. And once in it? He actually sighed with delight.

"See? Bathing is good, Kennedy. Stop being an asshat and take a fucking bath next time."

She started to rise and he grabbed her wrist. His face was so solemn. "Where are you going?"

"To get a razor. It's time to ditch the beard, Dumbledore. Unless you're planning to become the headmaster of Hogwarts."

And he laughed.

He just laughed.

And she'd never felt better in her life.

She slid into the hot water with him and offered him the soap. He took and started soaping his body while she went after his man of the mountain beard. He was patient and surprisingly receptive. She slicked the razor over his face expertly.

He eyed her, soaping his chest. "You shave a lot of angry dudes in bathtubs?"

Claire laughed and rolled her eyes, "Not recently. But I learned to shave beards when Chris was in that coma for a month. Turns out, a comatose brother makes for good practice."

Leon eyed her while she swept the razor up his chin. He said, quietly, "He's ok now?"

"Yeah. Fine. Thanks. He's hard-headed. That shit in Louisiana with that Baker family fucked him all up. But he's getting better."

She slicked the razor one last time over his cheek and knicked him. Just a little. It bled and she made a sound. "Shit. Sorry. Sorry."

"S'ok." He murmured it now, watching her eyes while she doctored the tiny cut. It was nothing. He'd be cutting himself shaving all his life. "But you made me drop my soap."

Claire leaned back, looking at him with narrow eyes. "You dropped the soap? You kidding?"

He gave her a wide-eyed look.

"Is this the start of a prison porno?"

And now he laughed again. And she ached a little. He was her best friend in the world. She missed his laughter.

"Hold on, butterfingers. Let me get it." She slid down into the water, reaching. It brushed her over him. The tips of her breasts brushed his arm and hand as she rooted around in the water for the bar of soap.

"I think it slipped away. I can't find it."

She was fumbling around his ass and legs with absolutely no grace. He said nothing, watching her face. And she finally found the soap lodged under his butt. With a laugh of triumph, she tugged it free and raised it over her head. "Ta-Da!" She called it musically, "Who's the hero now?"

She turned her grin down to him. He had shaving cream patches still on his smooth face. And the little trickle of blood from where she'd nicked him.

He wasn't grinning.

She offered him the soap.

He took it and said, quietly, "I need to wash my hair."

She eyed him, heart beating a little harder in her chest. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Help me?"

Jesus.

She eased up and spilled some shampoo in her hands. He went back to washing his body with the bar of soap.

And she slid her fingers into the thick mane of his hair.

She talked while she worked, a little nervous. She was never nervous around him. What was this? It was interesting.

"If you want, we can really get you moving tomorrow on the heavy bars. Kara said you twitched your toes this morning. That's great, Leon. That's huge. It's a big step. It means the nerves are reconnecting."

Claire rose to her knees beside him and rinsed his hair with a cup of warm water, watching the suds spill down his chest and over his belly into the water. He tilted his head back, eyes closed, and let her.

She turned his face to make sure she got it all.

And she heard a plunk and plop of water.

Clearly, he'd dropped the soap again.

Claire said, "Christ, I don't know how you even hold on to your gun sometimes. I've never met a man who drops as much shit as you do, Leon Kennedy. Seriously. Reflexes like a cat and fingers like a cl—"

The sentence ended on a gasp. He'd turned his face to the side and filled his mouth with her breasts. It was so unexpected it stole her breath.

Claire dropped the cup in her hands. Her fingers tunneled into his hair. His hands came up and pulled her over his lap. She straddled him, gasping.

And he tried to kill her with that mouth.

Really, what had she expected? She was ALL TITS. And she was brushing them all over his arms and his side and his chest. What did she expect here?

He molded them. He mashed them together. He used teeth and tongue and suction. He tried to fit a full one in his mouth and watched it bounce when it popped out of his mouth. Christ. Why hadn't he been sucking on her tits as long as he'd known her?

His hands shifted, his mouth let of one tortured nipple with a pop of sound, and he dragged her down to him. His palms cupped and slid against her face. Hers shifted to mirror it.

She fucked his mouth with her tongue and moaned. Holy hell. She was on fire. Her best friend in the world. He was trying to kill her with that tongue of his. It raped her mouth. It swirled with hers. He grunted and shifted his hands around to grip her ass.

And she was undone.

Her mouth broke from his, gasping. One of his hands clasped around her throat and held. The other slid over her hip and cupped her firey little mound. Red, he thought wildly, like her hair. She was red everywhere. And the question of whether or not she was a natural redhead was finally answered.

He bowed her body back to see it. He bowed her body back to see HER as he filled her full of fingers. She bucked, she cried out, she rode his hand like a wild thing. Christ. He'd been wasting years being her honorary brother or something.

Stupid. STUPID.

He drove his middle finger into her heat and thumbed her slick nub at the top of her dripping sheath. Claire grappled for his arms and caught, looking for something to hold on to. He pulled her back to him by her throat and tongued her mouth, wetly. It was the wettest kiss she'd ever had.

He was something. He didn't quit. He slid three fingers into her and drilled her body like he'd kill her. She cried out and took it, bouncing. His mouth went back to those bouncing tits and feasted.

Claire tightened around his fingers, creaming, shaking. He watched her face and waited for her to get there. She tightened painfully around his thrusting digits and he shifted, he shifted, he slid down into the water and his fingers slid out of her. His hands skimmed over the insides of her thighs and she couldn't do anything but watch, watch him, watch while he moved in between her straddling thighs and filled her up with his tongue.

That was it. She was done.

Claire screamed, loud, desperate. She grabbed his face and ground him there against her needy body. He laughed, muffled in the heat of her, and it felt like a vibrator inside her. She humped against his questing tongue and came, she came so hard it hurt. She came gasping and rocking and flopping.

She figured she'd never seen anything more beautiful than all that shaggy blonde hair between her thighs destroying her.

Shaking, she dragged him up by his face to kiss him. It was wet and fluid. It was filled with her spasms and gasping. The aftershocks were trying to destroy her.

She slid her hand down his belly to touch him.

And she'd forgotten. She'd been on fire for him. She'd been so wrapped up in him she'd forgotten. Her hand slid over his body and he wasn't ready for her.

Of course, he wasn't.

She watched it echo on his face and hated herself. She'd forgotten.

And she felt like a bitch for it.

He shifted his hands and cupped her hips. He set her away from him in the swirling water.

Claire said, softly, "Leon…I-"

"It's ok. It's fine. Just…can you go? Can you go, Claire?" He shifted away, staring now at the wall. He was stiff and cold. Because he WASN'T stiff and warm. And it nearly killed him. "Please…just send in the nurse, ok? Please, Claire."

How could she say no to that? He wasn't being cruel.

He was just being broken.

And she'd just made it worse...by trying to love him.

...........

Day 64:

3:16 a.m.

"YES! You see?! I TOLD you, you could do it."

He huffed out heavy breaths and sat down on the bench. He'd just crossed the heavy bars himself. It was the third time in three weeks. He could shift his left ankle now without prompting.

It was amazing progress.

Claire offered him a bottle of water. "Good job. Seriously. How do you feel?"

He eyed her, sipping the water. They were both sweaty. They were slick with it. She was something else. She absolutely would not quit with him. She just kept pushing.

She'd been pushing him for 20 years.

She was heaving out-breaths in that tiny sports bra she wore. Her flat tummy and heart-shaped ass were taunting him. He laughed a little. "Good. I feel good. What about you? Feel good to know you're right?"

Claire chugged water, watching him in the sunlight. The gym was big and open. It was backed by the Hawaiian countryside. It was all sand and sea and sunlight out there. It made his blonde hair look gold.

It made his eyes like seafoam.

She said, "Honestly?"

"Yeah. Honestly. Wanna have an I told you so moment? Go for it. Can't blame you."

"Not feeling good. Not yet."

"Yeah? Why not?"

"Because I'm horny."

Admittedly, he set himself up for that. He returned, gruffly, "Sounds pretty bad. Want me to spring for a hooker?"

Claire laughed. She just laughed. And he had to grin at her.

"You're an idiot, Kennedy. A real dumbass. No hookers. But thanks for the offer."

She patted his shoulder and moved past him to get his wheelchair. He grabbed her wrist, tugged, and spilled her over his lap like a dirty Santa Claus. "Let's see if I can help you instead."

Claire whispered, "Seems fair. I've been helping you all afternoon."

"True enough. Claire…damnit."

He kissed her like he'd eat her from the mouth down.

She let him roll her back on the bench and shift over. She opened her legs and he shifted in between them. He jerked up her bra, jerked down her pants, and went to town.

Naked, she quivered.

He spilled her thighs open to fill his mouth with her. She came almost instantly, gasping and humping around his tongue and fingers.

But it wasn't enough. It wasn't. She grabbed his face and pulled him up to her. And whispered, "Let me…ok? Just let me."

She pushed and spilled him to his back on the floor. He made a sound to stop her as her hands molded and painted him. She smoothed over his belly, his chest, his hips.

He made a little sound of distress and grabbed her wrist as it skimmed his groin.

"Don't. Claire…just let me. Ok? You don't have to do this."

Her eyes shifted to his face. He was so worried about it. He was so distressed. It was all over his beautiful face. What did he think she'd do? Mock him? Make him feel like half a man?

She slid her hand around his softened shaft and rolled him in her palm.

He made a small moan in his mouth and grabbed her face with his hands.

Her eyes studied his face. And she said, softly, "Can you feel that, Leon? Can you feel me touching you?"

He whispered, "Yeah. I can feel you. I can feel it. I just…I can't…I just can't."

Her heart swelled. It rolled in her chest. It beat. It ached.

And she realized she was in love with him. She probably had been all her life.

He was so afraid he'd never be able to please her that way. He thought it mattered. Didn't he understand? It didn't matter if he couldn't ever get hard again. She was crazy for him. She'd take him paralyzed or blown up or crippled from the neck down. She'd take him any way she could get him.

It wasn't his dick she loved.

It was HIM.

So, she breathed, "That's ok, Leon. Because I can."

And she slid down his body to show him. She took the whole length of him into her mouth. Soft, he fitted there perfectly. She could swallow all of him and savor. He cried out and grabbed handfuls of her hair.

She milked him. She worshiped him. Her nails carved over his chest and played with his nipples. And she tried to swallow him whole.

.....

Day 87:

2:13 a.m.

She stepped out of the shower, sighing.

It was a long day. A set back in the gym had sent Leon angry and hurt to his room.

He hadn't come out again all day.

He was improving. Daily. He was dedicated to it now. And he was the strongest thing she'd ever seen. He got up. He got up. And he got up.

He never stayed down for long.

But he was still down.

He hadn't touched her since that day in the gym. She knew he was hating himself because he had no control over his erection. He couldn't get one.

It made him feel like half a man.

It was that simple.

It was that painful for them both.

She'd told him, "Why does it matter, Leon!? It's just a stiffy! Buy a fucking dildo! Who cares!?"

And he'd shouted, "I CARE! I CARE, Claire! I DO! Imagine if you never got wet again. Imagine if I slid my fingers inside of you and you felt NOTHING. Imagine it! And ask me again why it matters!"

"Leon…it's just one part. Just one. You think you can't make love to me without it?"

And he'd laughed, dark, lost, angry. "I'm a MAN, Claire. A MAN. A strong, virile, HORSE of a man. I LIKE TO FUCK! I love it! How can you stand there and act like it doesn't matter?! I WANT TO FUCK YOU!"

Oh, he'd shouted it. It thrilled her. It made her excited to hear it. She'd NEVER had a man yell it at her before. Oh, lord. She loved him.

She'd shouted right back, "THEN DO IT! WHAT'S STOPPING YOU!?"

And he'd laughed again, derisively, "MY DICK! MY DICK IS! BECAUSE I LITERALLY CANNOT DO IT! AND I CAN'T TAKE YOUR PITY ANYMORE!"

She'd blinked. She'd relented. And her heart hurt. "Leon…you think I keep touching you out of pity?"

"Why else? Why else, Claire? Twenty years and you've never even once tried. Why now? Because I'm a cripple. And you're my friend. And you don't want me to give up because I'm not a fucking man anymore. So, you toss me a pity throw down to make yourself feel better and make me feel less like a fucking disgrace."

She jerked as if he'd slapped her. She rose. And she'd spoke low and soft, "You're hurting. You're mad. But you won't ever talk to me like that again. You won't ever suggest I'd sell myself short like that again. EVER. Do you hear me? I have NEVER felt sorry for you. Ever. The only person here worried about your god damn dick is you. You know where to find me when you're ready to apologize."

And she'd left him alone in the gym.

Two hours later, he'd fallen off the heavy bars and had enough.

He hadn't spoken to her since.

The small knock on her door had her moving to open it. He was there.

Standing.

He was there standing with a set of crutches under his arms. And she forgot to be mad at him.

"OH MY GOD!"

She laughed and grabbed his face. "When!?"

"The last few hours." He grinned at her. "The CT Scan came back clear, Claire."

Her eyes jerked to his face. She'd been looking at his feet in those adorable socks he was wearing to prevent slipping. She blinked again. "What?"

"It came back clear. No permanent damage to the spine."

She grabbed his shirt and fisted her hands in it. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Say it again."

He laughed. He laughed and said, "All clear, kid. This guy? Not paralyzed."

"Oh my god," She was kinda laughing and crying as she wrapped her arms around him. He shifted on the crutches and laid his cheek on her hair. "Oh my god. I can't stop saying it!"

And he laughed again, loving her.

"Good. I'm kinda glad about that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. After the CT Scan, I was sitting in the car and thinking about you. And I just thought…why hadn't I been burying my face in your tits all these years? I couldn't find the answer, you know?"

She shifted, picturing it. Her face warmed and the excitement of it pooled between her thighs. "Hmm. I'm curious myself."

"Stupidity probably. Or insanity. But anyway…" He limped into the room on the crutches. He pulled them out from his arms and settled them against the wall. Claire shifted, looping her arm around his chest to hold him up.

"Easy, Leon. Careful."

"No. Not easy. Not anymore." He caught her by the hips and threw her. He leveraged her in one arm and tossed her on the bed behind her. She bounced, laughing a little. "Not easy, Claire. And not soft."

Her eyes shifted to his face. She blinked again. "What?"

"Not soft. I thought about you today. And I wasn't soft. Not anymore."

She made a small sound. He kinda flopped down on the bed. Not graceful but it did the trick. He grabbed her ankles and jerked her toward him.

Claire made a small sound of need.

He jerked the towel off her body. She spread her legs.

His cock didn't claim her. His cock conquered her. It split her in half. He fucked her so hard it came out of her mouth in screams.

She was afraid HE'D come out of her mouth and through her body.

He ripped her apart with each thrust. It was like dying and flying and breathing. It stole hers. It was wet and meaty. It was raw.

He held her down, all muscles and slick skin. Her hands grabbed his hips. And he SHOWED her why it mattered. He showed her why he needed his dick to claim her.

Fat and hungry, it plunged into her creamy heat while she keened. He pressed her knees back, she held them open, his hips shifted to her hips to grind her into the mattress as he used her. He used her body like a whore. He fucked her as if he'd kill her. Like he'd brand the shape of his cock into the core of her.

She was so wet she was soaking the bed under her. And his mouth.

His dirty mouth.

He tongued her mouth in time with his plunging body. He spoke into her ears. Dirty, raw, needy. How much can you take, Claire? How much can you take?

His hand wrapped around her throat. His other gripped her hair. He jerked her head back to take the relentless thrust of his tongue into her gasping mouth. She was so slick with sweat, he was soaked in it.

He didn't even take off his shirt. His pants were tangled around his knees. It was so filthy. Her hands grabbed his ass and yanked him faster, harder, deeper.

He grunted, he ground himself into her. She bowed, shaking, jerking. He hit the end of her with every plunge. Her needy center sucked him in to savor each sticky drip of want that swirled with her juices to brand her.

He licked her tongue, sucked her mouth, and kept on plowing her belly while she made some kind of sound like a leaky balloon. He grunted, "This is why Claire. This is why. I like to fuck. I need to fuck you like this. Like this. I need to fuck you. Do you need it?"

Oh my god. He was so dirty. She loved him. She craved him.

She gasped, "Yeah. I need it. Harder, you son of a bitch."

And he laughed. He laughed and fucked her so hard it hurt her. It hurt. And she loved it. She grabbed handfuls of his hair to jerk his head down. She sucked his tongue. She smashed her hips into him to take each driving, fat, sticky inch of his plunging dick between her soaking thighs.

He grabbed her face. He grabbed her throat. He shifted his hips and rolled hers into him, angling her down into the mattress like he'd smash her into it and leave her for dead.

And he growled, "Scream for me, Claire."

Jesus.

She screamed. Because he was driving her into the headboard. He was spilling her half off the bed with each thrust. She pushed on him and rolled him. They grappled. And she slapped down on him like a red storm.

He filled his hands with her breasts. He filled his eyes with her face.

She was all sweaty hair and freckles and slick pale skin. She dipped down to wetly take his mouth. And then she rode him like she'd kill him.

Slick and wet, hard and fast, she pistoned her body atop his like she'd take it with her when she came. Her soaking cunt sucked him, fucked him, and furiously destroyed him. He grunted, he groaned, and he rose to sit up and spill her in against him.

His hands jerked her hair, his teeth savaged her throat, and he shifted her. Just a little. Just a tiny change of angle. And somehow it was the one meant to kill her.

He crushed into her cervix with each brutal thrust. She screamed into his mouth, she bounced on his lap to take more. The dirty little thing that she was, she fucked his mouth and forced him harder into her body.

He jerked her into him, grabbed her hips, and forced her down on his driving body so hard it echoed. It slapped. It sounded wet and filthy and raw. She mewled, she gasped, she actually fought against it…and then she came all over him.

She came, bucking and grunting and gasping. She tossed her fiery tresses and grabbed his and ground her sticky release all over his lap.

And he FELT it all.

Jesus Christ.

He felt her.

And he raped another scream from her mouth as she plowed up into her two more times and came in her pulsing heat. He actually cried out with the pain and pleasure of it. It robbed his breath. It robbed hers. It was nearly scalding in her slippery cunt.

He tongued her shivering breasts and humped her through his release.

And Claire felt the world dip and roll around them.

She leaned back, watching his face through the sweaty tangle of her hair. He'd fallen. He'd broken. But it was her that was wounded.

It was her.

Because she'd fallen too.

And there was no CT scan on Earth that could tell her she'd be ok.

She'd plummeted. She was paralyzed…and in love with Leon Kennedy.

#cleon #claire redfield #leonskennedy #resident evil #biohazard #smut and angst #theladyfrost #fanfiction #archive of our own

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