#but i also could be completely wrong !!!!!!!!!!!!! i don’t wanna sound like a smart ass !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! bc she knows our mother as good | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

avintagekiss24 · 4 years ago

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—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #5k...holy god

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years ago

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4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting.

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tw: injuries #tw: blood #tw: break in #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt casey #tmnt april #tmnt splinter #OOOOOOOF #took me a while #hope you like it!

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years ago

Note

How about a future! tord/ red leader x reader where the reader is basically the motherfucking doom slayer/ doomguy and heads out to the red army base with nothing but their own fists and some shotgun bullets and ends up almost killing most of the red army soldiers and when they finally come across tord/ red leader he's honestly surprised that reader was in his base and single handedly demolished his army and tord being tord thinking he can take them down all by himself goes for it however reader basically the doom slayer aka their unstoppable and bodies him and tears tords robot arm in the process and when reader is done beating his ask up they ask him this...

"Why did you betray my friends?"

"Why did you betray me?"

And tord gives them the answer but it's also a pathetic ass one because he honestly didn't know what to say. And reader just leaves with the final line being "I can't believe i used to be in love with you" and tords be cryin because that realization crushed him.

I've never seen any Doomslayer gameplay so sry if I get anything wrong gjshgs

.............

As a massacre ensued outside of his chambers, Tord sighed in annoyance. He wasn't scared. Only annoyed.

"Those guys had one job: protect Red Leader at all costs. And they go and screw it up..just great." He sneered to himself, while Paul and Patryck stood by the entrance with their weapons ready.

Neither of them wanted to risk their lives, knowing the intruder was probably going to take theirs in a heartbeat. But what choice did they have?

Every day their life was on the line. They were used to that feeling.

Yet not knowing what kind of enemy was making their fellow soldiers scream bloody murder made them..a bit uneasy. Not to mention this person reportedly destroyed all of the base's tanks with a single punch.

How could they defend themselves with this knowledge?

What would happen if they failed?

"If..a-anything should happen," Paul began as he glanced back at his leader. "It's been an honor serving you, Tor-"

"Until you take your last breath, you will address me as Red Leader only. Got it?"

The Dutch man froze in terror, though Patryk answered in his steed with a simple "yes, Red Leader". But before he could turn to chastise his comrade, something slammed against the door, leaving a massive dent.

They both stiffened and aimed their weapons, while Tord watched from his desk warily.

'Who could it be?' He pondered, trying to narrow down the list of possible intruders. 'Not Edd..he's too obsessed with that worthless cola crap. Not Tom..he's stupid, but not that stupid to attack my base all alone. And certainly not Matt..he can't even handle a little blood on his coat.'

The door was being attacked more forcefully, as though the intruder was punching it. And eventually it broke down completely, causing Paul and Patryk to immediately shoot with vicious war cries, not caring who it was.

But suddenly Paul yelled in pain as a bullet struck his shin, sending him collapsing to the ground. "Paul!" Patryk rushed to his side, helping him up.

"Jeez..Tord still kept you guys around, huh?"

When the dust cleared, the Red Leader finally recognized that voice and face:

It was you, clad in an armored suit.

"[Y/n]? Ahaha...long time no see!" He laughed, opening his arms up as you stepped fully into the room. "My, that's quite a suit you have there. Where'd you find something like that?"

"Up your ass." You sneered, before glancing at his two bodyguards. "Out. Now." Aiming your shotgun as a warning seemed highly effective, as the pair scrambled to their feet and left you and Tord alone.

"Whatever, they were both cowards anyways." He scoffed.

"Cowards who were smart enough to leave. Now.." You turned back to him. "We have some things to talk about."

"Oh? Is that why you killed my men and smashed my tanks? Those were expensive, you know.."

"Well they wouldn't let me just walk in-"

All of the sudden, Tord's robot arm shot out a laser beam from the palm, which you dodged as it struck the nearby wall. You scowled at him. "Tord, stop it. I'm not here to kill you."

"You're no fun, [y/n]. I wanna see what you got!" He grinned wickedly. "Besides, if all you wanted was talk..then you should've asked me out on a date instead!"

Something about his last statement made your heart ache inside, but that only fueled your rage as you lunged at him. He was foolish enough to think he could beat you on his own, becoming swiftly outmatched in a matter of seconds.

You rammed him into the wall with your full body. In retaliation he tried shooting another laser at you, only for you to grab his robot arm and manifest a bladed weapon, slashing it clean off like an amputation.

He yelled in pain and shock, falling to his knees the moment you backed off. Sparks and wires trickled from the shoulder joint as he gripped it, gritting his teeth.

"Now do you wanna talk?" You coldly asked, still holding the arm. Deep down, it hurt you to do this to someone you once befriended, someone you once....cared deeply for.

But his own damn pride had to get in the way.

How many times has that gotten him hurt?

"I-I'd rather...." He then hesitated, seeing the slightly disappointed look in your eyes, before he finally gave in. "Ugh, fine. We'll talk."

"After all these years, I never got to ask you..." You knelt down to get closer to him. "Why did you betray our friends? Why did you betray me?"

".....pfft..is that what this is all about? What I did to your little neighborhood oh so long ago?" Tord shook his head. "You know, the whole "world domination" shtick was only a stupid thing I made up on the spot. I honestly just wanted my robot back."

"So..that's all that mattered to you, huh? Just a robot? You didn't even care about the fact you destroyed Edd's home. It was all just storage space for your stupid tech, wasn't it?"

"Oh I..." Now you were backing him into a corner, forcing him to confront his own feelings about how he truly felt that day.

"We used to look for treasure, fight zombies, hang out at the arcade..what ever happened to that? What ever happened to...us, Tord?" The more you spoke, the more hopeless you sounded as Tord only stared back at you blankly.

"..you all forgot about me. That's what happened."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, that's..what it is." He clenched his remaining fist. "When I left, none of you bothered to check on me. A simple "hey Tord, old pal, how's the Red Army going for you?" would've been fine. You could've called, texted...hell even sent a pigeon my way! But no. All I got was silence, as if I was never there."

Then he glanced up at you with a malicious grin. "So I wanted to make sure none of you forgot about me...even if you hated me after the fact. And I see that's worked quite well."

"....bullshit."

"Eh?" He raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"Maybe the others haven't tried, but I did. I tried my best to contact you..but you never responded. So I find that pathetic excuse hard to believe."

He felt his heart sink into his stomach. But in all honesty..he just didn't know what to say to you. He couldn't come up with any other reason for his actions.

You sighed, seeing that you've officially stunned him into silence. Even though you weren't satisfied with his answer, you could tell his expression held deep regret and...even sadness as he realized you never did betray him.

And there was only one reason why you bothered to reach out to him at all.

"Seems like..we're done here. I don't wanna kill you, but I don't want you talking to me until you grow up and throw aside your goddamn ego."

"[Y/n], I..I just-" Tord flinched as you tossed the robot arm near him, though he made no move to pick it up, only staring at you in shock.

You just picked up your shotgun, looking down at him with a slight frown. "I can't believe I used to be in love with you."

With that, you swiftly turned around, not wanting to see his expression as you left the room. You knew that he needed time to think things through.

Only when you were gone did the crushing realization finally hit Tord. Those words you spoke were true, and drove a knife deep into his heart, twisting its very core.

He could feel his throat tighten as hot tears welled up in his eyes. Not just from the pain of losing his arm, but from a far worse kind of pain.

The pain of knowing that he truly did love you..only to betray you in the end.

Curling up against the wall, tears streamed down his cheeks as quiet sobs echoed through the empty, battle-torn room.

There was no one else to blame but himself for this.

#clanask #anonymous #eddsworld x reader #ew tord x reader #tord x reader #future tord x reader #red leader x reader #angst #thank you for this prompt nony #it's *chef's kiss* a n g s t y

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Training Session | Bucky Barnes x reader (fluff!)

summary: you’ve had a horrifically terrible day and you’ve still got a lot of it left, including a training session with Bucky that you’re not sure you’ll be able to get through

word count: just under 1.5k

warnings: some swearing, and slightly awkward flirting, and uncomfortable emotions. it’s all fluff!

Everybody has bad days, but you were pretty sure you were having one of the worst days anyone has ever had, ever.

Okay, maybe not that bad but still, pretty awful. Honestly, you were just trying not to think about it because you didn't have time to get emotional about it.

"Fuck," you grumbled to yourself as you looked at your smart watch and realize you had to head straight to training. You'd forgotten and now you were this close to just skipping— but Bucky was a good trainer and he didn't deserve that, plus he'd probably lecture you tomorrow about accountability and shit and that sounded awful.

Taking a rushed moment to change out of your coffee-drenched clothes (I told you it was a really bad day!), you slipped on a sports bra and shorts. Normally you'd add a tank top too but you were already late and Bucky liked to keep it ridiculously hot in the training room because he had this crazy idea that it was good to sweat. That reminded you to grab your water bottle; you needed to hydrate like crazy to tolerate the temperature in there.

"You're three minutes late," Bucky tutted disapprovingly as you stormed into the gym. When you ignored him, he laughed a little. "Somebody's grumpy today."

"Don't push it, Barnes," you hissed. "I'm not in the mood to be fucked with."

"Hey, don't take it out on me— take it out on these," he suggested as he brandished the kick pads he was wearing on his hands.

"I plan to."

Bucky put on some music (your playlist, because you didn't trust his taste) while you stretched and warmed up a bit. You were still fuming as you wrapped your hands but you were trying to calm yourself down, afraid that you'd snap at your trainer when he hadn't done anything wrong.

With a stabilizing breath and a twist of your neck until it cracked, you started to throw light punches at Bucky's padded targets.

"Come on, put some oomph into it," he challenged, and you sighed but began hitting harder. And harder. And harder.

His eyes got a little wide as he watched you go, each punch more brutal than the last until you could hear a clanging sound as the back of the pad slammed into his metal hand. The problem with channeling your rage into your fists was that it didn't stay just there; your eyes started to well up as the catharsis filled you with overwhelming emotions.

You hated that you cried when you were angry or frustrated. That hatred, of course, was very angering, meaning that it just made it harder not to cry. You tried to hide your tears but a sniffle caught his attention as he looked away from your hands and up to your face.

"Hey, are you—?"

"Shut up," you whimpered, your voice giving you away. One last punch, weaker than the last, took the last of your energy with it and you began to sob, lifting your arms to cover your face.

The feeling of Bucky wrapping his arms around you made you tense up a little, because it was unexpected, but then you melted into his embrace as you buried your face in his chest. You didn't want him to see you like this, but that wasn't something you could avoid anymore as he held you too tight to run away.

You were afraid he'd ask you what was going on and then you'd be forced to try to explain, but he stayed silent, stroking your hair and seeming not to mind that you were soaking his tank and probably getting mascara and snot on it, too. The steady, slow pace of his breath helped calm you down a little bit, and when you turned your head to the side, you could even hear his heartbeat. That comforted you most. Finally giving in to the hug properly, you slipped your arms around his torso and clutched at his back, holding him even tighter.

"Can you take a deep breath with me?" he asked softly. You nodded against his chest, and breathed with him as it filled with a rush of air, paused, and released slowly. "Again," he instructed; the same thing he said to you in training, but it sounded so completely different this time.

"Thank you," you whispered shakily, "I'm sorry."

"Neither of those are necessary," he chuckled lightly. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," you decided, pulling back from the hug and noticing the way he held you a little tighter before he let you go.

"If you wanna talk about it, I'm always here, but I get that that can just make it worse sometimes," he explained. "And, I get why you probably wouldn't come to me about it."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno," he admitted as he scratched the back of his neck, "we're not really that close and you have a lot of friends who are probably better at this than I am. Plus, you know, I'm all moody and stuff."

You laughed. "You are?"

"I mean, I don't think so, but people are always saying that."

You hadn't realized he knew people said that about him, or that he thought it was inaccurate. Suddenly, you appreciated how lonely that would be.

"I don't think you're moody. I think you're really sweet," you smiled, "and very intimidating."

"I guess that's fair," he relented with a shrug.

"But I know you're really just a softie," you smirked, poking him in the chest.

It almost looked like he was blushing as he looked away from you. "If you say so."

You wiped your tears away and rubbed your nose a little, feeling mostly back to your old self even if your eyes still had that weird 'just cried' feeling.

"Can we finish up the training now?" you requested, clearing your throat and almost sounding normal again.

"Yeah, yeah, sure— if you're up for it."

"I am. Crying actually helped a lot."

"Yeah, it can have that effect," he nodded. He sounded like he was speaking from experience, but it was hard to imagine him crying. It was also heartbreaking to imagine, but mainly just hard.

He decided to have you do some cardio instead, which was a nice change of pace before some grappling with him. Wrestling with Bucky was, of course, laughably one-sided, but he went easy on you and you did feel like you were improving. The energy was different, though, and you hoped he didn't think less of you for being so unstable today.

"Good job," he praised you with a high five. "You're getting stronger, you know, and your stamina must have doubled since you were first recruited."

"Thanks," you mumbled sheepishly, not sure if he was just flattering you or something. "You're a great trainer. And a good friend."

"Oh, uh, well, I try," he stammered.

"So, listen," you began as nerves made your hands shake a little, "I need a shower, obviously, but after that I was thinking about watching trashy TV and making cookies or something… and if you wanted to join, you have a standing invite."

He seemed taken aback, but interested. "Who else is invited?"

You felt your face get a little warmer— and not just from working out— as you contemplated the answer to that. "Oh, um, nobody… it's normally an alone sort of ritual but, I don't know, I guess I like the idea of getting to know you better outside of you kicking my ass in the gym."

Bucky nodded, crossing his arms. “Yeah, I like that idea, too.”

You weren’t sure if it was a date or not, but you hoped it was. He showed up with a few beers and wearing that damn red Henley like he knew it would drive you crazy. He was hesitant to watch reality shows at first, but soon he was even more into it than you were. Best of all, he did that thing where he started to very slowly slip his arm around you on the couch, like he thought you wouldn’t notice; like he thought you would scare off and run away if he moved too quickly. Instead, you slid down and nestled yourself under his arm, resting your head on his shoulder.

Everyone has bad days, but occasionally, your luck can turn around and you might just find a diamond in the rough.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes headcanons

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breakyeol · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet, Sweet Relief

Pairing : chanyeol x reader

Summary: in which your gorgeous best friend knows just what to do to help you relax.

Warnings: strong language, shy yeol towards the end, explicit sexual content; mild muscle kink?? i think??, dry humping for like two seconds, oral (f. receiving) aka pussy eating king back at it again, fingering, park chanyeol bc the man deserves a warning all his own

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n; ah yes, best friends to lovers, my favorite cliche. i can’t stop writing for Chanyeol lately?? which really isn’t that out of the ordinary bc the man is literally my muse, but it seems a bit excessive at times yikes. but i also think it’s a good thing because i’m making some leeway with his prince au!!! yay!!! hopefully it won’t be too terribly long of a wait! until then, i hope these drabbles turned one shots will hold you over :) enjoy!

“You’re stressed out.”

It wasn’t a question.

You sighed, head shaking as you spared Chanyeol a glance from the corner of your eye.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not.” Was his abrupt response, concerned eyes dragging over the length of your tensed features, pausing on the visible lines above your brow and at the corners of your mouth.

He was right, of course. You weren’t alright. In all honesty, you hadn’t been alright for the past month. Your latest assignment was beating the absolute shit out of you, draining your mind and body of all its viable energy and leaving you an exhausted, stressed out disaster of a person.

Unfortunately, you knew that if you admitted it out loud to Chanyeol, he would not let you spend another second staring at your stupid computer screen. But you really had to get the project done by the end of the week or you were totally and royally screwed. And if he couldn’t make you feel better, Chanyeol would end up feeling like shit and that in turn would make you feel even more like shit than you already do and it would be an endless cycle of the two of you feeling like shit and does anybody really need that right now? You were already struggling enough without having an extra pouty, sulking best friend to tend to.

“Chanyeol—“ you began, running your palms over your face as you concocted a number of things to say to get him to stop worrying. But, he didn’t give you the chance.

“I can do it again.”

Your hands fell away from where they’d begun to press against your sore eyes, a look of confusion crossing your features.

“Huh?”

He swallowed, shifting where he sat beside you on the plush sofa. You followed his every movement through narrowed eyes, your confusion building as a shade of pink dusted over his cheeks.

“I–if you want me to... I can do it again.”

It took you a second. To put the pieces together. To remember. For the shock to settle over you. It took a second, but it was with a jolt that you realized what he was talking about. Warmth blossomed beneath your skin, but you forced your expression to fall into that of gentle chiding.

“Yeol. We agreed that it was a one time thing.”

The near rejection had him crumbling in on himself, the blush coating his cheeks intensifying tenfold as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

“I know but... I don’t mind. If it helps.” He suddenly straightened his back and you damn near jumped out of your skin as one of his hands fell across your thigh. He stared into your eyes, determination and sincerity burning in his own. “I want to help.”

“Yeah but you don’t have to help like th— ah!” You yelped in surprise as he suddenly pushed you and you fell backwards onto the couch with a soft ‘oof’. “What the h– ell…” your voice gave with an embarrassing crack as Chanyeol crawled on top of you, straddling your hips and caging your head between his arms. The sudden change of position caught you completely off guard, and you found yourself grappling hopelessly to try and get your mind back on track.

“Let me help you, y/n. You know I’m good at it.” His voice had dropped an octave, softening into a near whisper. Heat pooled in your cheek, and you blinked rapidly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Sure he was good —probably one of the best you’d ever had if you were being completely and totally honest—, but accidentally fucking your best friend while you are both wasted and horny beyond rationality is completely different than committing the act while sober and capable of discerning between right and wrong. And this— this had to be wrong.

Even if it felt so deliciously right.

Quickly ridding yourself of the thought, you pressed your palms against his chest with every intention to pushing him away, only to falter at the feeling of taut, bulging muscle beneath your fingertips that you were almost certain hadn’t been there the last time you’d laid your hands on him.

“Have you been working out?”

The question was so out of place in the situation that Chanyeol couldn’t rein in his laughter before it came bubbling from his chest in several loud, contagious eruptions.

“A little…” his lips curled into that familiar, boyish grin, “wanna see?”

Asking proved pointless as he sat up before you could conjure up an intelligible response and took hold of the bottom of his hoodie. In one soft motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside without a care. You couldn’t help but gawk like a fool at the sight you were left with.

“W–wow.” You coughed out, blinking rapidly as you absorbed the expanse of the tanned, toned body on top of you. ‘A little’ had been an understatement. The last time you saw him shirtless, you can’t quite seem to recall there being such a defined six pack… or such impressive biceps… fuck.

“Wanna feel?”

His large hand was already wrapped around your wrist before the question escaped his lips, though this time he actually waited for your verbal approval before proceeding. Was it really the best idea to be feeling up your shirtless best friend after he’d just propositioned you? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Allowing him to guide your palm to his impressive pectorals, you almost moaned at the feeling of the hard, warm skin beneath your greedy fingertips. “Not bad, huh?” He asked, smug smirk twirling at the corners of his lips.

“In a word.” You offered mildly, far too absorbed in tracing the defined ridges of his abs to come up with one of your usual smart ass responses. The faintest of gasps fluttered from his lips as you caressed over a particularly sensitive area, and you didn’t miss the goosebumps that rose across his sun kissed skin— nor the pressure of something hard suddenly nudging up against your hip.

Swallowing thickly, you tipped your head up, making the deadly mistake of meeting his eyes. They were dark, darker than you’d ever seen them, and hooded, pretty eyelashes fluttering across his flushed cheeks with every lazy blink. Something dangerous yet tempting swirled within them, and you found yourself too overwhelmed to hold his intense gaze for much longer, quickly diverting your attention elsewhere.

But, just your luck, your eyes happened to land directly on the second most dangerous feature on his face— his lips. They were a dark, lovely shade of pink and deliciously swollen from the relentless assault of his teeth. The unexpected urge to tip you chin up and kiss him crashed over you with all the strength of a tsunami, heat flooding down between your thighs. Instinctively, you tried to close them, but the shape of his body prevented you from doing such. Unfortunately for your sanity, the pressure of your legs squeezing around his hips gave Chanyeol a different idea all together, a whole new way of absolutely wrecking you.

You almost— scratch that, you quite literally choked on air when he suddenly rolled his hips down, grinding against you. It was more experimental than anything else, testing the waters, seeing just how far you’d let him go. When you showed no signs of pushing him away and telling him to go fuck himself, he did it again, and this time, you really did moan out loud. Chanyeol shuddered at the sound, positively delighted that he’d been the one to pull such a delicate, sexy noise from you.

Encouraged and invigorated with newfound determination, he set a steady, confident rhythm with his hips, rolling them into yours in hard, deliberate, fluid motions.

“Let me make you feel good, y/n.”

A shiver wracked your body, and you found yourself utterly helpless against the deep rasping bass of (what you liked to identify as) his sex voice. It was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, with a deliberate yet natural hoarseness that shot straight to your core. And no being on earth was immune to it, including you.

“Okay. Fuck, okay,” you caved, breathing heavy and uneven just from that juvenile dry humping alone, “but this is seriously the last time, Chanyeol. We can’t keep doing shit like t–this.”

A triumphant grin twisted onto his rose petal lips, “that’s alright. Just this once is all I need.”

Contrarily, you feared this little indiscretion would make you crave him all the more.

You sighed softly as his head fell into the juncture of your neck, painting hot, open mouthed kisses across the vulnerable skin. “No marks.” You huffed lightly when he resorted to sucking and nipping, and you could feel the pout that downturned the corners of his lips, but he made no objections nonetheless. A trembling breath flooded out of your chest as he descended your body, pushing up the loose fabric of your t-shirt to press searing kisses across your belly, all the way down to the elastic of your leggings. He glanced up at you, and somehow the angle made him look more attractive than he already was.

“Don’t be nervous.”

You shot him a lopsided grin, “who’s nervous?”

He didn’t look convinced, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips. “If you don’t want to do this, that’s completely alright, just tell me and I’ll—”

“Don’t stop.” Chanyeol’s eyes widened at the sudden interruption, staring up at you with all the excitement and hope of a puppy getting a treat dangled in front of his nose. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you allowed your thighs to relax, falling open before him. “Please… don’t stop.”

He literally whined, though it quickly pitched into a rough, heavy groan somewhere deep in his chest. Long fingers slipped beneath the tight elastic of your leggings, making quick work of tugging them down the length of your legs. The air was cold against your bare skin, prickling goosebumps shooting up across your freshly shaved and lotion lathed legs (you silently thanked yourself for making yesterday one of your monthly self care days). The chill of the air was warded away by the warm press of his hands against the flesh of your thighs, grip tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck.” You hissed as he feathered his mouth over your clothed pussy, the heat of his breath rippling through your core in tiny shockwaves. Something dangerous glinted in his hooded eyes, and you let out a shaky moan when he flicked his tongue experimentally. The thin grey cotton darkened with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and he moaned quietly when your faint flavor hit his taste buds.

“Baby,” he purred softly, rolling his thumb over your clit and prodding the tip of his tongue where he estimated your entrance was. Your head tipped back against the cushion, mouth opening in a silent gasp. One of your hands reached down to weave through his thick black locks, while the other grabbed hold of the armrest behind your head. “Can I take them off?”

“Yes.” You breathed, removing your hand from his hair to brace it against the couch as you lifted your hips, allowing him to pull the black cotton down your legs. He tossed them aside haphazardly, a low groan rumbling in his throat at the sight of your bare core, wet and exposed in front of him. The first time you’d done this, it had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to really appreciate you. So, he’d take his time now. Really take his time.

“You’re so pretty.”

Warmth blossomed beneath your cheeks and you scoffed softly, trying your best to act like the compliment hadn’t made your heart flutter. He dragged his index slowly through your arousal, mouth falling open with a breath of amazement as he admired the glistening wetness that coated it. Chills rolled down your spine, an almost embarrassingly desperate whine resonating in your throat.

“Chan.” The urgency in your voice made him smile, and he looked up at you with eyes sparkling with mischief. You could only watch helplessly as he dragged his finger away from you, and slipped it between his lips, humming in delight.

Fuck. He was definitely trying to kill you.

Luckily for you, that one little taste proved to not be anywhere near enough for his insatiable appetite and, without warning, he pressed his face in close and began lapping eagerly at your pussy. Your mouth gaped, hips bucking up uncontrollably as his nose ground into your clit, his hot tongue licking hungrily at your entrance. Pleasure ignited in your veins like a wildfire, explosive and untamable and all consuming. It stretched through every part of your body, setting your skin ablaze in the wake of his touch.

“Oh my god, Chan—” he groaned against you in response, hooded eyes fluttering blissfully as he lost himself in the taste of your cunt. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, fierce and unrelenting, the sound of it wet and messy. You were moaning his name, thigh tightening spastically around his head, but his strong, calloused hands kept them apart, forcing them open so he could have his way. You almost lost it completely when he wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking.

Strangely enough, you found that without the intoxication of alcohol in your system, everything he did had that much of a more intense effect on you. It was like every touch, every sensation was amplified by your mere sobriety; the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the eagerness of his tongue, the pressure of his fingers. You felt all of it, every one of your senses going into overdrive.

And god it was so much. And yet, you still wanted more.

“Y– your fingers, Chan, your fingers, please—” you panted, brows knitting as you felt that familiar tightening in your gut. He quickly obeyed, sinking his long middle finger inside of you with such ease you almost felt embarrassed. But there was no room for such emotions when you were so enthralled in the hot rush of pleasure bursting like the most brilliant of firecrackers in your veins.

A second finger was swift to join the first, stretching you out so deliciously that your toes curled. With his free hand, he tugged at your knee, bringing it up to rest over his shoulder. The new angle forced your hips off of the plush cushion below, his skilled fingers burying themselves deeper, pillowy lips sucking harder. It was over the second his digits curled, stroking up against that perfect little spot that had white hot electricity crackling in your blood.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. It was hot and overwhelming, the persistent, eager pressure of his mouth and hands drawing it out as long as it could possibly go. He dragged it out until you were limp and trembling beneath him, moaning and whining out broken fragments of his name, too lost in the bliss inducing thralls of your high to feel even the slightest hint of shame.

His ministrations seemed to grow even fiercer through your orgasm, his ravenous moans increasing in volume right alongside yours. He only pulled away when he knew you wouldn’t be able to withstand anymore, resorting to pressing soothing kisses and murmuring breathless praises against the soft, trembling skin of your thighs.

“Fuck you, Chanyeol.” You laughed breathlessly, tossing an arm over your eyes.

“Fuck me? Fuck you, I almost busted in my pants when you came. That was so fucking hot.” He groaned, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he crawled back on top of you, caging your head between his arms. You chuckled, warmth spreading through your cheeks. A sweet smile upturned the corners of his mouth. “Did it help?”

The question was less than a breath against your lips, so soft you had to strain your ears to hear it. You swallowed, gaze momentarily dropping to his mouth before returning to his eyes, only to find that they’d honed in on your lips.

“It helped. You helped.”

He inhaled shakily, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of his bottom lip. “Can I help a little more?” He asked, and you felt his bangs feather over your forehead as his head lowered. Hot breath rushed over your mouth. Instead of answering, you reached up and cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss. It was short, shy, sweet. Such a stark contrast to the fierce hunger he’d displayed going down on you not two minutes ago that you couldn’t help the giggles of amusement that came bubbling from your chest. He broke away from you with a bashful smile, gently resting his forehead against yours.

“You suck.” He mumbled, pouting childishly.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one that’s done any sucking.” You teased.

“Who am I to argue with the facts?” He sighed dramatically, feigning defeat.

You laughed loudly, an obnoxious cackle that had to be one of the most unattractive sounds you’d ever made, but it was abruptly cut off when he reattached his mouth to yours. You hummed contently, carding your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, and he painted the inside of your mouth with it. Warmth spread through your chest, your heart picking up speed as you melted into his kiss, melted into the warmth that the presence of his body provided you with.

“I lied.”

Your eyes blinked open, surprised by the sudden admission. “Huh?”

The look on his face stirred to life a strange, but vaguely familiar emotion in the depth of your chest. A crimson blush darkened his cheeks and his gaze shied away from yours. For a moment, you were reminded of the little, goofy looking boy that shyly handed you a heart shaped box of caramel chocolates on Valentine’s Day all the way back when you were thirteen. He had the same big sweet eyes, the same crimson cheeks, the same large pink tipped ears.

“I said that just this once is enough...” he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing as he nibbled nervously on the corner of his lip, “but it isn’t. It isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your lip. “I want you. I- I want to be more to you— to be more to you than just a friend.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, offering him a sly smirk. “Are you… confessing to me, Park Chanyeol?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He smiled down at you bashfully. “If you say yes.”

“Hmm…” you squinted your eyes and pursed your lips as if you needed to think it over. But you had a feeling that a moment like this was long past due, so you resisted the urge to draw it out and torture him, opting to give him a more straight forward answer to put his racing heart at ease. “Yes.”

“Thank god.” He groaned happily, smooshing your face between his massive palms and tugging you into a deep, but playful kiss that made your skin tingle. You giggled noisily against his lips, draping your arms over his neck to keep him close. “Does this mean I get to eat you out like that whenever I want?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” you snickered as he pumped his fist, hissing out an eager ‘yes’. You grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his attention back to you. “And next time...” you tipped your head up to nip at the sensitive lobe of his ear, letting a downright wicked grin curl across your lips, “I’ll gladly return to favor.”

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kodzukenscorner · 4 years ago

Text

Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa during a blackout (NSFW)

anon asked: hi!! can you please do kuroo, ushijima, & sakusa during a blackout if u wanna add a little nsfw thats always nice too :))) 💕

a/n: omg 😭 the blackout request was one of the first ones i’ve ever done on here and finally we’re doing a part two!! thanks anon 💕

wc: 1,866

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Kuroo

Study dates were a norm for you and Kuroo

He may be a pain in your ass sometimes but that didn’t change the fact that he was also a nerd at heart

You were finding it to be very difficult to keep your focus on the work in front of you

Kuroo had already tried everything, he bought your favorite snacks, promised you could watch your favorite movie afterwards, anything to get you to focus

In the end he made do by saying you could get a quick kiss after you got a problem right and once you were completely done he would give you a proper kiss

That was enough to convince you because Kuroo’s kisses always had you melting into him

And it wasn’t everyday that he just offered them up without teasing you first

You were finally focusing on your work while Kuroo quietly explained some things to you when everything suddenly got dark

You both looked up in confusion and Kuroo went over to the window

Some idiot had backed their car into a utility pole and knocked the power out for half the street

He groaned and sat down next to you looking over at your textbooks

“Let’s take a break, you can’t do your work in the dark”

“Can I still get my kiss?”

Your eyes adjusted enough to the dark to notice the sly smile spreading across his face

“Well, you have been very good, so I guess you earned a kiss. Come here”

He patted his lap and you giddily straddled him

He took your chin between his fingers and brought your lips to meet his

Kissing Kuroo always started slow and languid then before you knew it, his tongue was sliding into your mouth while he sucked on your lower lip

He always had control and you happily let him do what he wanted

You felt his hand move from your chin under your shirt to caress your sides

He pulled away when he felt you let out a content sigh

“You know, you didn’t get any problems wrong today. I think you deserve a reward”

He made quick work to undo the button on your jeans and slid them off of you

He didn’t bother taking off his own pants and just pulled them down enough to release his hard cock

He moved your underwear to the side and brought you down on his throbbing dick

He watched your face under the moonlight contort in pleasure as you sank down on him

His cock twitched as he saw the look of pure euphoria on your face when he finally bottomed out

“My smart kitten” He mumbled into the crook of your neck as he started to buck his hips upwards

Kuroo always liked setting a fast pace when you were riding him so he could see you bounce on him

And you loved it because he always managed to fuck you deeper than he normally did, hitting all the right spots, sending you into a dizzying frenzy

As your hands gripped onto his shoulders, trying to ground yourself while Kuroo crashed his hips into yours, you promised yourself you would study much more diligently

If this is how he was going to reward you for getting your homework right, you were going to be a straight A student from now on

Ushijima

You weren’t even together when your power went out

You were chatting on the phone together, even though you were the one who was doing most of the talking

But Ushijima has always been a good listener, and he actually pays attention to what you have to say

You were in the middle of a random story when suddenly all the lights in your room went out

You went silent on the line and Ushijima spoke up for the first time in a couple minutes asking if everything was alright

After looking around the rest of your home you told him the power had gone out

“Hmmm, my power is still on, maybe it’s just your area”

“Toshi, it’s kinda of creepy being here alone, could you come over?”

You could hear him hum as he paused for a minute

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes, don’t move around so you don’t get hurt”

You happily agreed and patiently awaited his arrival

You nearly jumped our of your skin when you heard his knock at the door but went to welcome him quickly and carefully

Once he stepped inside he took your hand, leading you back to the room so you wouldn’t trip on anything

He made himself comfortable on your bed, gesturing for you to join him

You excitedly laid next to him, resting your head on his chest

As much as you loved him, Ushijima wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person out there so you relished in this rare moment of intimacy

Your body loosened up under the soft touch of his hand grazing along your arm and he could feel it

You had been uneasy sitting alone in the dark and he felt guilty for not being here to comfort you sooner

He started placing soft kisses on the crown of your head and you purred in delight

He was glad it was too dark to see anything or you would have caught a rare glimpse at one of his genuine smiles

You had begun to drift off so you didn’t even notice when his hands started to travel farther down to caress your thighs

It wasn’t until his hand made contact with your crotch did your eyes shoot open

Again, he isn’t the most affectionate person but when he gets in the mood you know he’s going to absolutely ravage you

You looked up at him and as your eyes adjusted to the dark you could see the lust in his

You gulped and he took that as the initiative to pin you under him and nearly rip your clothes off

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips just at the idea of him being so eager to wreck you

Your mind was so clouded with lust you didn’t realize he had stripped you both of your clothes until you felt his hard cock teasing your entrance

His lips attached themselves to the sensitive skin on your neck, leaving what you were sure were going to be very dark marks soon enough

“You know I love you right?” He mumbled lowly against your skin

“Yes - ah I know, please Toshi...” You arched your back, begging him to fuck you

He knew he didn’t have to say anything else and slid his cock into you with ease

No matter how many times you two have done this you never get used to his impressive size

Usually he gives you a moment to collect yourself and get used to him but tonight he was hellbent on showing you how much he could ruin you

He started a merciless pace, it wasn’t fast but the way his hips rammed in yours had you seeing stars

His grip on your sides was surprisingly gentle while you clawed at his back trying to calm yourself

The embarrassment you would normally feel at hearing the lewd sound of your skin slapping against each other and the squelching that echoed through the room was completely thrown out the window

All you cared about was the way his cock hit all the right spots every time

And the thick vein you could feel rubbing against your walls was enough to throw you over the edge

You prayed that the power never came back on

Sakusa

This was honestly one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made

You were just lounging around with Sakusa when you suggested watching a movie together

He nodded and let you make the selection and you opted for a horror movie

Usually you were fine with horror movies, you did get scared every now and again but no more than the next person

What you were not counting on was the storm brewing outside

You could see the sky beginning to darken and the distant sound of rumbling thunder

Sakusa seemed unbothered by it all and you wondered if he ever got scared

You quietly shifted closer to him as the winds outside got worse and the movie got more intense

A sudden gust of wind caused the windows to rattle and you jumped in surprise

At this point you were right next to Sakusa and he put a reassuring hand on your thigh before turning his attention back to the movie

He wasn’t able to focus long because another gust of wind knocked the power out and you clung to his arm as you were both shrouded in darkness

You heard Sakusa sigh as he brought his free hand to pet your head

“What’s wrong? You were the one who picked the movie”

“I didn’t think the power would go out! What if that creepy guy from the movie comes out of nowhere?”

He pulled your head against his chest and let you rest there for a minute

“Don’t think about things like that”

“I can’t help it Omi! It’s in my head now”

“Let me take your mind off of it then”

You opened your eyes that had been screwed shut and realized you still couldn’t see a thing

Not that it mattered because you soon felt Sakusa’s gentle hand guide your face so he could connect his lips to yours

For someone who wasn’t big on physical affection, Sakusa was one of the best kissers, slow and sensual and just the perfect amount of roughness

You pressed your body as close to his as you could possibly get

His hand slid down to your waist and you jumped at the light touch

“Relax. It’s just me” He whispered against your lips where he placed soft kisses

He pushed your back down against the couch and gently removed all your clothes and his own soon after

He made sure to leave kisses on every expanse of bare skin he uncovered

Suddenly all your worries and fears melted away under his soft lips, all you were focused on was him

He hovered over you, peppering your face with more sweet kisses

It wasn’t everyday he was this gentle and loving with you so you reveled in every moment and every touch

You squirmed under him when you felt him suck on your neck and you could feel his erection pressing against your thigh

“Kiyoomi” You whined quietly

“I know, I know. Be patient, love”

He kissed your jawline and started slowly pushing his cock into you

Once you started letting out soft moans he quickly snapped his hips and fully sheathed himself inside of you

The sudden change of pace had your back arching up, urging him to keep going

He started a slow put forceful pace, his hungry gaze never leaving your eyes

Even in the darkness you could see the pure adoration he held in his eyes as his cock stretched you out in the most perfect way possible

“I love you Kiyoomi”

“I love you too scaredy cat”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu writing #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #hq ushijima #hq kuroo #ushijima x reader #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader

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dameronology · 4 years ago

Note

1. From the angst prompt list with Poe??

ok this was a super popular one for poe, like 3 or 4 people requested this oof time to hurt !! even tho this one is a little more light-hearted than all the others i have planned muahaha

poe dameron + “i needed you and you weren’t there.”

It had taken Poe Dameron no less than five minutes to work-out that you were being off with him. But, with that said, it would have been fairly fucking obvious to practically anyone that you were less than pleased with the pilot. Maybe had been the way you were staring daggers at him across the canteen in the morning, or the way you’d completely blanked him when he’d tried to greet you. It had been then that he realised you’d never sent him a good morning text - as was customary when you slept apart - or even a good night one. On the whole, he was a pretty smart guy, but 99% of the time when it came to you? He was clueless. You could have held up a sign that said ‘POE, I’M MAD!’ and he still wouldn’t have got it.

So, he was proud of himself for picking it up so quickly - then ensued the challenge of working out what exactly was wrong. Once he’d got his breakfast and some caff down him, he resorted to his office with his beloved droid to investigate.

“Was it our anniversary?” He peered down at BB-8, who was parked under the desk. The droid beeped back a quick no, not till next month.

“Damn,” Poe muttered. “How about a birthday?”

That was also a negative.

“Maybe just try asking them?” BB-8 chirped.

Poe sighed to himself, before grabbing his datapad and standing up. According to your calendar, you didn’t have any important meetings til that afternoon - that meant that hopefully, just hopefully, you might be willing to give him the time of day.

Your own office was just down the corridor, a few doors down from his. Everyone on the base and their mother knew that you had a strict no knocking before 9AM rule, but it had never applied to Poe - at least not when you were on good terms. He was willing to risk his head to talk to you, especially when you were already so close to biting it off anyways.

“Babe?” He gently called. “Wanna talk?”

You glanced up from your datapad, thinning your eyes at him. “How nice of you to make an appearance.”

Poe sighed, stepping inside and carefully shutting the door behind him. He tossed his own tablet onto the desk, taking a seat opposite you. In his experience, you had two kinds of mad: loud mad and quiet mad. Loud mad was always a little less dangerous than quiet mad. That was usually when you were seething.

“I know I’ve done something,” he began. “I just need a little help figuring out what.”

“Are you serious?” you scoffed. “That sounds like a you problem-”

“- c’mon,” he whined. “Don’t be like that.”

Leaning back in your chair, you folded your arms across your chest, glare boring further into the depths of his very soul. He tried to offer you a smile, but it was immediately wiped away by the deepening of your frown. Before now, Poe hadn’t realised how tired you looked, which was weird, because you always made a point to get an early-

- fuck.

Now, he remembered. Now, he got it.

He was supposed to - nay, he’d promised to - help you fix the fleet of X-Wings that had gone down last week. Because not only was he the dumb-ass whose recklessness had let them get damaged, he was also the dumb-ass who had managed to get forgiveness from you and Leia by promising to fix them. And god forbid she ever find out, because if the General had it out for him, your anger compared to hers was practically nothing. If your fury was like a lion, Leia Organa’s was a fucking tyrannosaurus rex.

“The X-Wings,” Poe let out a loan groan. “I was supposed to help fix them, wasn’t I?”

“There we go,” you gave him a phoney grin. “Now you’ve got it!”

“Did you fix them all yourself?”

“Every. Single. One.”

“Babe, I am so sorry-”

“- I needed you and you weren’t there!” You cut him off. “Do you know anything about internal combustion engines? Because I certainly don’t! I’m pretty sure all those jets are worst off than before I got my hands on them-”

“- probably. You aren’t the best engineer,” Poe absent-mindedly muttered. Because that was going to help, right? “Wait! I mean...no, there’s nothing I can say. You definitely made them worst.”

“No, keep talking,” you huffed, “you’re doing a great job! See how deep of a hole you can dig yourself.”

He sighed, reaching out to hold your hands across the table. “I’ll help you tonight, I promise. And I’ll teach you all the workings of the engines too, so you can be less...awful.”

“Counter proposal,” you shot back. “You clear your free time this afternoon and help me then, and I won’t snitch to Leia that you forgot, or that you were the reason they even needed repairing in the first place.”

“Deal,” he grinned. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you gave his hands a light-squeeze. “You’re a dumbass, but I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#asks #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron imagines #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars angst #poe dameron angst

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stopbeingcurious · 4 years ago

Text

You make me feel young again*

PART THREE / MASTERLIST

pairing: post azkaban sirius black x y/n

warning: dirty thoughts/ letters

a/n i had so many request to make more of this series so here we are... enjoy :P

A couple of weeks had gone past, without any contact from Sirius and yours and Professor Lupins relationship had gone back to normal, like nothing had ever happened.

The only thing on your mind was the way Sirius touched you, how his skin felt against yours. You missed it.

You remember the words Sirius spoke the last and only time you were together;

“Not many girls like you,”

Not many girls like you? The way Sirius spoke about his time as a teenager he made it sound like he had slept around.

It was taunting your mind, you wanted to see Sirius again, you needed too. You daydreamed in class about him, at lunch in the shower, in bed. You needed that mans affection again.

It got so bad that you were loosing sleep, you were genuinely so aroused that you couldn't sleep at night, not with a puddle and a heartbeat between your legs.

You thought you could relieve some of the tension yourself but of course that didn't work, just made it worse.

You needed male attention.

And of course your friends caught onto your behaviour changes, asking you a variety or questions when you left your dorm room looking like a disheveled mess.

In other words, you were desperate.

class

You're currently sitting in class, potions to be exact, listening to Professor Snape bore on about how it's illegal to become animagi underage. You had no interest whatsoever in the subject at hand so decided to rest your head on your hand and let your mind wander. What you didn't remember was that Professor Snape was a skilled Legilimens. His voice rung out from the front of the class just as your mind wandered in the direction it had been for a while now, Sirius.

“Y/n, I suggest you concentrate if you don't want your fellow classmates and I knowing what you're thinking about,” His eyes narrowed in your direction, pulling everyones attention from their work, all eyes on you. Some smirks, some confused, some bothered because they had been distracted.

You let out a silent huff as you switch your attention to the parchment in front of you.

common room

Your friends surround you, all looking intrigued. They had just interrupted you from reading your book sitting next to the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

“We know somethings up Y/n, would you just give up and tell us already!” Angelina flung her arms around in expression. She was pulled out of her expressive state with a hand on her shoulder, Freds.

“Ange is right Y/n, we just wanna know if there was anything we could do to help.” Fred asks, his body was slouched forwards slightly so he didn't seem as intimidating as he usually did.

You measure your friends that you're okay and that you're just not getting enough sleep.

You were so into your book and now your attention has been snatched by your brain again, filling your vision with images of that night, the night where right went wrong, the night of your life.

You'd had enough of this tormenting, the only way you could get to Sirius was through Professor Lupin and you had an idea.

You proceeded to write Sirius a letter, a very detailed letter, just to bless his imagination as much as you blessed his everyday but the your mind flooded with questions; What if Sirius didn't want to see you again? Is that why he hadn't contacted you first? Did he think you were just a one time thing? But Sirius thought the complete opposite of this.

Sirius received your letter, Remus handed it to him with a stern look on his face.

“I didn't read it, I respect your privacy Sirius but you have to be smart about it,” Sirius knew straight away who the letter was from. Remus sat at the table opposite him in their shared home.

“We don't know what it says yet Moony,” Sirius scoffs and opens the letter.

Dear Sirius,

If Prof. Lupin is around, do not show any sign on your face with the words I am about to say. Sirius I miss your touch, I'm not sure if you thought it was a one time thing and I could be embarrassing myself right now but if you feel the same, if you didn’t want it to be a one time thing I wonder why I can see you next. I sit in my classes, arousal pooling in my panties because of you. Your making me feral Sirius, I need you inside of me soon, I cant please myself, I need you and your big cock to stretch out my tight pussy, its waiting for you Sirius.

Y/n :)

Sirius couldn't contain himself, he quickly grew hard in his trousers also trying not to show any signal as to what the letter had just read. Of course he wanted to see you again, he wanted his hands all over your body, his callous fingers rubbing against the red of your ass where he has just slapped.

Remus looked at him with confusion as Sirius was sitting there with sort of wide eyes wondering how he was suddenly wrapped up with an 18 year old. He was pinning over her, attached.

“Sirius, what did it say?” Remus leaned forwards in his chair, hand sewn together as well as his eyebrows.

Sirius snapped out of his stance on the command of Remus’ voice.

“It said that what we did was a mistake and that she is sorry,” Sirius lies straight through his teeth, pretending that the letter had bruised his ego.

The air was clear, and everyone could breath again.

Sirius was relieved that Remus had believed him and Remus was relieved because Sirius and yourself were no longer infatuated with each other, lifting a huge relief of his shoulder.

But Remus didn't know the contents of Sirius next letter to you...

hogwarts

You were sitting at breakfast, tapping on the table. Your distractions had gotten better over the last couple days meaning that you'd been sleeping better meaning that your friends hadn't been on your back constantly.

“You alright Y/n?” Angelina sits next to you, swinging her legs dramatically over the bench, stretching her arm into the middle of the table to grab an apple.

“Yeah I'm okay thanks Ange,” She smiles at you. “How are you?” You ask, taking another bite of the toast that sat on your plate.

“Yeah yeah I'm all good, anyway I came here to tell you that Professor Lupin wants to see you before class,” Your eyes widen, had he read the letter between you and Sirius? You didn't think he would have, he wasn't the type to invade privacy.

Angelina noticed the colour drain from your face and a worried look creeps onto her face. “Whats wrong? What did you do? Are you in trouble?” She bombards you with questions to which you stand up and run out of the hall towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. You might as well pack your bags now, theres no way that he is going to let you off without punishment after he read the letter.

Your legs ran as fast as they could take you, dodging students and teachers, earning a phew ‘No running in corridors’.

You came to an immediate halt in front of the door you recognised so well and you knocked.

“Come in,” You heard from the other side of the door.

You take a deep breath, feel the cold untouched door handle underneath your shaking skin. You breath again, trying to steady your breaths and trying to hold back the tears that were ebbing on your waterline.

You push the door open to find your DADA Professor standing at the top of the stairs leading up to his office, you sniffle and bite your lip, hiding any emotion.

“Come into my office Y/n,” He turns around and strides into his office, leaving the door open behind him.

You begin to walk towards the stairs, having his emotionless words replay in your head, thinking out all the possibilities of how this interaction could go and how you could make it easier for yourself. You pace the floor feeling the cold air of the classroom consume you due to the lack of human warmth. You shiver and resume your journey now striding up the stairs.

Pushing the door open, you stride into his office the same way he did. You immediately saw a letter on the desk, you mentally cursed yourself, letting your Professor do all the talking.

“I see you got my message from Angelina?” He was slouched back in his chair, looking rather relaxed.

You nod, worried if you speak that your voice will break as you were on the verge of tears.

“Why so quiet? Is there something wrong?” His eyebrows furrowed as he asked.

“No nothing, just not sleeping properly lately,” You lie, you figured you would just tell everyone the same thing so that if the subject came up everyones stories would match.

“Ah yes, Angelina told me,” You looked shocked. “Anyway,” He dismisses the subject. “I have something for you,” Remus turns your attention when he picks up the letter on the desk with his long, dainty fingers.

The letter was for you? You thought that was the letter you sent Sirius.

You take the letter that he was offering and examine it. There was no name on the front of it and it wasn't sealed at the back. You look up at your Professor and all he does is smile and nod, then your attention is back on the letter, you practically ripped it open, knowing that it was from Sirius.

Dear Y/n,

I assume you will have received this letter from Remus.

We cant send any more letters as I told Remus that your letter was about how you thought what we did was wrong and that it was a mistake so tell him that as well, thats what he knows. I am in instant need of you, I want to feel your body below me, writhing around underneath me. I need to taste you, all of you. I want to make your ass all red then kiss it all over. I want to make you cum over and over and over until you cant cum anymore, would you like that? I will find a way that we can reunite but you're going to have to wait pup, I'm sure you can do that for me.

Sirius *paw-print*

The colour drained from your face once again and your heart rate sped up drastically. Only Sirius words had this great of an effect on you. You had to hide any expression from Remus, you knew what he knew and you had to go along with it.

“Im sorry Y/n but I think it was for the best,” The Professor sat before you, shuffling papers ready for your first lesson with him.

“I agree Professor, thank you for delivering my letter,” You reply, trying to ignore the puddle in you underwear. You had to do something about it before class started, you could sit in his lesson feeling aroused the whole time!

“Your free to wait in here Y/n, class will start soon,” You decline your Professors offer and run to the toilet with the letter, needing to relieve some of this built up tension.

#harry potter #harry potter smut #sirius fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black smut #sirius black #sirius orion black #remus lupin smut #remus john lupin #remus lupin #professor lupin smut #professor lupin #hogwarts

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ragingpancake · 3 years ago

Text

The Drought

A/N: Hello again! So, trying to get back into the swing of things so I searched for some fic prompts and came across this one! Prompt at the end. Feel free to drop prompts into my ask! I'd love to write more! Here’s what’s frustrating: out of the entire Atlantis expedition, approximately three quarters of them are ATA gene carriers, all thanks to Carson’s finely tuned gene therapy. Awesome. Great. They now have an entire plethora of people to pick from for ‘light bulb duty’ down in the ancient labs, but the problem is, while there are plenty of people to choose from now, Atlantis and her ancient tech just refuses to work for anyone as well as she works for John fucking Sheppard. It’s infuriating, honestly, but Rodney supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, Captain Kirk has managed to practically sleep his way across the Pegasus Galaxy and if Atlantis was a person, of course she would be a she, so of course she would line up with the rest of hussies and--. Hmph. Maybe it’s John that’s the hussy. Lieutenant Colonel Hussy. Okay, that’s almost funny.

“What are we doin’ here again?” Sheppard asks in that nasally, whiny voice he has and it brings Rodney back to the present where they’re currently testing out what very well could be the galaxy’s version of a blood sugar monitor but it only wants to work with John. “I want you to put your finger under the little…. Thing there and think it on,” Rodney says, like it’s the most self-explanatory thing in the world. The duhis left unsaid but it’s there, hanging in the air. He’s also trying very hard not to think about where else he might like Sheppard to put his finger and-- “Why?” It’s infuriating, not only that John Sheppard is the only one that Atlantis responds so easily to, but that he doesn’t even seem to care. Rodney can feel the tips of his ears go red at the annoyance, but there’s that almost smug smile that touches Sheppard’s lips and God, he’s so annoying. And handsome. And smart (not as smart as Rodney of course, but then--) Right. Ancient tech. “It’s not working,” John intones and Rodney frowns down at the tablet. “Well, you aren’t trying hard enough.” “Trying hard enough at what? I’m doing exactly what you said, Rodney.” “Think harder then.” “Can’t we just try something else? Somethin’ cool?” And John honest to God whines and Christ, why is this Rodney’s life? “I just need you to think it on, Colonel,” Rodney snips mostly because they’ve been down here in this lab for the last hour or so and it’s just a couple of them and for the last fifty eight minutes and thirty two seconds, Rodney has been acutely aware of just how close Sheppard is sitting to where he’s working and he just wants to be done. John sighs and screws his eyes shut for all of three seconds before he opens one slowly, glancing down at the machine. Nothing. “I don’t wanna say I toldja so, but--.” “Not another word,” Rodney huffs and he drops the tablet onto the table, lifting a hand to massage his temples. He’s over this. He’s really, really over this and when he glances up at Sheppard to dismiss him, he’s slightly embarrassed to find the Colonel already looking at him, an unreadable look on his face. “I guess that’s it then,” he says, and he sounds annoyed. “We’re done for the day.” “Well, I guess I’ll see ya later then,” John says, standing from his stool and waving lazily at the crew before he slouches out of the lab, Rodney looking after him as he does. It takes all of two seconds before Zelenka speaks up. “Ahem,” he says, feigning clearing his throat. “Perhaps you would like it if I got you a glass of water?” “Not near the ancient tech,” Rodney answers automatically before he realizes exactly what Radek said. “What?” “Clearly, you are incredibly thirsty.” It’s not just Rodney’s ears that go pink this time, but his cheeks burn too. “I have no idea—” “Oh please,” Radek smirks. “The tech works just as well for any other gene carrier here on Atlantis, you know that. We all know you just pretend it doesn’t to give you an excuse to get Sheppard down here and ogle him for an hour.” “First of all, there is no ogling anyone here and second of all, you knowthe city responds best to him! We can’t all be natural gene carriers with the stupid hair and that stupid slouch and--.” “Relax, Rodney,” Radek says and he’s still teasing but maybe there’s something else there too. “For what it is worth, Miko, Simpson and myself believe that the Colonel is just as… parched.” “Wait, wait, wait, you’re saying—No, no. You’re wrong. It’s not possible.” Radek shrugs. “If you say so.” He’s content to let it go and go back to work, and Rodney thinks it really sucks that Zelenka would put such a thought in his head and then just goes back to pretending he hasn’t completely melted Rodney’s brain. Well, what the hell is he supposed to do about this now?

He gives it a few days, lets himself ruminate on it and he’s still pretty certain that Radek is full of it. But then they’re back to the labs, Sheppard back on lightbulb duty, except this time they’re alone and Rodney cannot… well, he can’t quite look away from the Colonel, no matter how hard he tries. Not even when the blood sugar monitor turns on at the slightest thought from Sheppard and--. “Rodney? Something on your mind, pal?” “No,” Rodney answers, perhaps just a little too quickly, eyes snapping down to the tablet in his hand as he catalogs the response the tech is giving John. “Why?” Because he can’t leave well enough alone. “IS there something on yourmind?” John’s response is just as defensive, an emphatic no, and Rodney knewthat Radek was full of shit, that little--. There’s a shrill alarm that sounds for a fraction of a second before the sprinklersthat Rodney didn’t even know existed come on, immediately soaking them both. John curses and stands up from the stool quickly and Rodney very nearly slips in an attempt to get the tablet out of the water, only managing to keep from busting his ass when John reaches for him and suddenly, they’re standing there so close and--. Thirsty. Yes, perhaps he is. “Sheppard, I--.” He doesn’t get a chance to say what he is when John leans forward and crushes their lips together and oh. Oh. This is… this is nice. He relaxes against it, perhaps leaning into it a bit more than he means to and it seems to continue for an eternity before John finally, perhaps reluctantly, pulls away. “Didn’t think you’d ever get with the program, Rodney,” John mutters and he looks a little embarrassed but a lot proud of himself and--. “Sorry it took so long to get the tech workin’,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and Rodney realizes he should probably figure out how to turn the sprinklers off, but he’s a little dumbstruck right now, to be frank. “I was hopin’ that if we had to try again, no one else would be here so I could--. Well. So I could see if you were maybe just as dehydrated as I am.” Sonofabitch. Zelenka was right. “Absolutely bone dry.” “Well,” Sheppard says, and there’s a hint of an almost devious smile touching his lips. “Let’s see what we can do about quenching that, huh?” Definitely Lieutenant Colonel Hussy. But this time, Rodney’s more than okay with it.

Your prompt: Person B staring admiringly at Person A from across the room. A friend whispers into Person B's ear: 'Why are you so thirsty?'

#sga fic #mcshep #ship: mcshep #rodney mckay #john shepprd #atlantis ships it #prompt fic #stargate atlantis #sga #first kiss #pining john #oblivious rodney

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qitwrites · 3 years ago

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growing pains

Fandom: Boku no hero academia

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

5 times the Bakusquad tells Bakugou they love him + the one time he says it back

(AO3)

Ashido is many things. Book smart isn’t one of them.

No really, she’s got so much going for her with her dancing, her strength, her versatile quirk, her perky attitude and even her distinctive appearance, but she’s not one for the books. She doesn’t like them, and they clearly don’t like her back.

Her grades thoroughly reflect this hate-hate relationship.

Ashido tries though, she really does- even if it’s just cramming a few days before the exams, she tries to study. Yao-momo had even gone out of her way to help, but it just doesn’t do the trick. She knows she needs to get her act together and figure this out because she can’t be a hero with a failing grade, and the anxiety and fear starts taking its toll, leaving her restless and upset.

So, when Bakugou sees the pink-haired, pink-skinned pain-in-the ass sulking in the common room, he’s horrified by the words that leave his mouth-

‘Want my help?’

Ashido doesn’t even glance at him at first, choosing to stare at the wall forlornly. She slowly looks up to catch his eye, looks around, realizes that they’re all alone, snaps her eyes back to his and her jaw drops.

‘Me?’ She points a finger at herself. ‘You’ll tutor me?’

‘What did I just say dumbass?’

‘I just- BAKUBRO, THANK YOU!’

‘Shut the fuck up and get your shit. We’ve got our work cut out for us. And raccoon eyes?’

Ashido turns to look at him, eyes bright and shiny.

‘Tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass.’

Ashido beams. ‘It’ll be our little secret!’

To her credit, he sees her try. She’s distracted and constantly jumping up and down, too jittery to be in one place, but she also pushes herself to focus, to really absorb the material. Bakugou’s rough with her, the way he is with Kirishima, but he’s generous with the praise too, or as generous as he’s capable of being. It makes him feel all kinds of gross, disgustingly soft and gooey things when Ashido’s eyes go warm with pride when he pays her the smallest compliment.

They work hard for the two weeks leading up to the exams. Kirishima joins them for every session in addition to the stuff he does with Bakugou separately, and between the three of them, they manage to cover most of the syllabus quite thoroughly.

The day before the exam, Bakugou sees the nerves rolling off Ashido.

‘Oye!’

She flinches and turns to look at him, throwing him a sheepish smile. ‘Yes, Blasty?’

He bristles at the nickname but recognizes that there’s no malice, no intention to mock, nothing really- just a nickname meant for a friend. She isn’t provoking him- she’s just nervous and falling back on old, comfortable habits.

He grunts, ‘You nervous?’

Ashido chuckles. ‘Course I am! Don’t wanna let you down, you know?’

Bakugou smacks her lightly on the head with a roll of practice sheets.

‘Who do you think tutored you? Don’t underestimate our sessions. Get in there and fucking obliterate those stupid tests.’

Ashido’s smile grows more confident, and she gives him a huge thumbs up, bumps hips with Kirishima and jogs over to her seat. The bell rings, and the exams begin.

The tests are not bad. Bakugou notes that a good majority of the papers contain material that he’s covered with the two properly, and works his way through the problems, the equations, the literature, all of it. In the very back of his mind, in a place he barely refuses to acknowledge, he hopes that they’re doing ok.

A week after their final exams, Bakugou is walking back from the training centre when he sees a ball of pink approaching him at an alarming speed.

‘BAKUBRO!’ Mina hollers, arms raised over her head as she outright sprints at him.

Bakugou furrows his brow, chest expanding as he gets ready to yell at her when she interrupts him-

‘I passed EVERYTHING!’ Her smile is humungous, wide and warm and genuine to its core. ‘AND I ACTUALLY DID WELL!’

Bakugou doesn’t even realize he’s smiling back, that feral, triumphant grin he has when he beats someone during training or takes down a villain. He’s proud of himself, and he realizes, with a surprising amount of acceptance, that he’s proud of her too. Really damn proud.

He’s a bit slow to realize that she hasn’t stopped barreling towards him though.

‘RACCOON EYES, DON’T YOU DA-‘

Ashido collides right into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Bakugou curses the entire way, but Ashido out-laughs him, her body shaking with joy.

‘Thank you!’ She beams down at him, pulling him into a warm hug. ‘You have no idea what this means to me.’

Bakugou wants to push her off, wants to stand up, spew out some curses and stomp away, back to his room.

But he’s also proud. He’s also happy for her. He’s also glad she did ok. That she worked hard and was determined to make him proud and that she isn’t going to get held back or expelled or something.

So, he blames it on the summer heat when he not only doesn’t push her off but rests a hand on her shoulder, gives her a quick pat, counts to 10 and THEN shoves her away.

Ashido pulls off easily enough, still laughing. She bounces back to her feet, dusts off her track pants and offers him her hand. The blonde looks at it, huffs, and takes it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Ashido yanks him to his feet with a strong, firm grip and her eyes go soft and warm and radiant.

‘Thanks again, Bakugou.’

‘Tch, whatever. Fuck off.’

Ashido giggles. Her phone suddenly starts ringing and she pulls it out of her pant pocket.

‘Oh, it’s my parents, I gotta take this!’ She starts walking back to the dorms. ‘Let’s go out this weekend, get some food at the mall. My treat!’

‘I don’t want to fucking do-‘

‘Bye babe. Love you!’ And with that, she’s gone, her laugh echoing around the courtyard.

There’s an absolutely atrocious, disgustingly gooey feeling curling around Bakugou’s chest.

He wonders if Recovery girl has any medicine for feels.

---

Bakugou knows for a fact that Sero is 90% memes and 10% tape.

He has no scientific evidence to back up this claim of course, but he’s definitely right.

The thing about Sero is that the longer you spend time around him, the more you can appreciate his stupid sense of humour, his great taste in mangas, and his ability to make the people around him smile.

Bakugou hates him completely, or so he tells himself. There’s no scientific evidence to prove on the contrary either, thank god.

So, with his shitty sense of humour and his easy-going nature, it’s natural to find Sero with a smile on his face. Not the kind of sunshine happiness that Kirishima has, but more of a mellow, easy joy. His body language exudes a relaxed vibe, immediately making the people around him lower their guard, and he shares a love for healthy food with Bakugou, earning him the blonde’s begrudging respect.

Bakugou finds the tape hero sitting at the kitchen island on a Tuesday night. It’s past Bakguou’s bedtime, but he’s hungry enough to warrant a midnight snack, though he’s not expecting any company. Turns out, neither is Sero.

‘Oh, hey.’

Immediately, Bakugou’s shackles are up. Because Sero isn’t smiling. He isn’t teasing him, there’s no humorous lilt in his voice, no mischievous glint in his eyes, nothing. He’s hollow almost, his skin pale and his eyes sunken in. Even his breathing seems off, too fast and too shallow all at once.

‘What are you doing up?’ Bakugou asks, quirking a brow.

‘Could ask you the same.’

Sero is barely looking at him. He has his phone in a vice-grip, and he looks like he’s going to throw up.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

Sero jolts at that, eyes darting all across the room, and he can’t seem to look at Bakugou. Can’t seem to sit still or calm down. Bakugou can taste his anxiety, and it’s making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He feels protectiveness - strong and vicious and ridiculously overpowering - all the way in his toes.

‘Nothing, ha, I’m fine.’

‘Tapeface, I’m not fucking blind. If you don’t want to fucking talk about it, fine. Just don’t lie to my face.’

Sero finally looks at him, and he looks lost and scared and helpless. Bakugou’s never seen him like this, and the protectiveness surges.

‘I- I didn’t expect anyone to be awake. I’m not sure, you know, how to talk about it. I don’t even know what to do.’

Bakugou grunts to show him he’s listening before turning around and slowly pulling things out of the fridge. He remembers Sero’s love for fruits and soy and all things healthy and decides to make some Mapo Tofu. Not because Sero will like it or anything, the blonde just really likes Mapo Tofu, ok?

Bakugou begins the task of pulling pots and pans out of the cabinets and gets to prepping the ingredients. He keeps himself busy and fills the space with the comforting sounds and smells of food because he is an expert at being unable to talk about his feelings. To articulate his thoughts sans anger and rage and panic. And he finds that it's easier, even if only a little, to talk when the focus isn’t just on you. When there’s stuff going on, when there are other focal points. It’s less scary.

‘My mom is getting surgery.’

Bakugou pauses in his movements. He stays still long enough to indicate to Sero that he’s listening but goes back to work so the focus is still on the food, so Sero will continue to speak. His voice is uncharacteristically soft and so pained, and something in Bakugou churns horribly. He works more softly, so he can hear everything.

‘She’s had medical issues all my life, so it’s nothing unexpected. She gets surgery pretty often, but it’s never any less scary.’

Bakugou can’t even imagine what that’s like, to have a parent regularly undergo medical treatment and surgical procedures.

‘It’s the first one since I got to the dorms. I’ve never been this far away, and I can’t-‘ Sero’s voice chokes. He breathes deeply and continues ‘-I can’t calm down. I begged them to let me come home but they refused, said I need to see this UA thing through, do my own thing, all that.’

Bakugou continues to cook. The kitchen smells warm and spicy, and the sound of sizzling spices saturates the space between them, and he thinks he can sense Sero calm down a little.

‘I get it. I do. They're right and logically, I can accept that. I just. Fuck, this is horrible.’

Bakugou doesn’t offer any words of comfort or advice because what does he know? He has no idea what Sero is going through, and anything he says might sound insincere or plain insensitive. So instead, he cooks. He cooks the meat, mixes in the spices, and tastes the broth. He works fast and efficient, his movements practised. When it’s done, he plates up two bowls, and sets one in front of Sero, taking the seat next to him. Sero’s at the head of the table, so Bakugou ends up on his right.

Sero stares at the bowl and then looks up at Bakugou.

‘Mom makes me Mapo Tofu when I’m upset,’ he grumbles by way of an explanation. The blonde proceeds to douse his serving in extra chilli oil and peppercorns because he made the overall dish at a much more tolerable spice level. NOT for Sero or anything, just because. You know. For the fuck of it.

Sero stares at the bowl of food silently before picking up the spoon.

‘I haven’t told the rest because I couldn’t find a way to talk about it.’

Before Bakugou can figure out a way to respond to that, Sero continues, ‘I’m glad you know, is not so bad to have someone to talk to. Or at, I guess.’

Sero digs in, and after the first bite, his eyes light up.

‘Holy fuck,’ he breathes, ‘this is so good.’

Bakugou smirks, digging into his own bowl and humming in agreement. It’s probably the best Tofu he’s made so far.

‘Shit man,’ Sero says in between big bites, ‘I freaking love this. And you. But mostly this. But also, you. Like 65-35? Maybe 60-40.’

The blonde snorts and Sero’s grin gets wider. They eat in relative silence, with the occasional comment from Sero and the sounds of them kicking each other playfully under the table. When they’re done, Bakugou rinses the bowls in the sink and joins Sero on the couch in front of the TV. It’s gotten ridiculously late, but he doesn’t want to leave him alone.

Sero rubs the back of his neck. ‘I uh, I don’t want to go to my room right now.’

Bakugou leans over the couch, grabs two throw blankets from a bin nearby and flings the yellow one at Sero.

‘Play that cool documentary on speedcubing,’ he barks out, tucking himself under his own red blanket. Sero gives him a wide-eyed look before navigating to the right piece on Netflix. He gets comfortable under the throw, and they fall asleep to the sound of people solving Rubix cubes at inhumane speeds.

Shoji finds them like that in the morning and gently shakes them awake. Sero’s phone has a message from his parents, telling him everything’s alright, and that’s the only reason Bakugou forgives him for gathering the blonde in a big, warm hug before the sun is even up.

He crawls into his own bed 5 minutes later, and his heart feels lighter than ever.

Maybe an antacid will help with all of these stupid, horrid feels.

---

Bakugou doesn’t like people.

As a general rule of thumb, he dislikes them almost instantly. People are loud. They’re invasive, annoying, clingy, and they never smell good.

People are also cruel and selfish and use you as they please.

Bakugou doesn’t like people; until he comes to UA.

Because the people in UA are loud, invasive, annoying, clingy, and never smell great either.

But they’re kind. They’re smart, driven, capable, funny. They work hard, they play hard, and they’re mostly selfless. They don’t flock to him simply because he’s got a great quirk or something. Truth be told, they’re all pretty formidable themselves. Grossly underdeveloped and years away from being at his level, but Bakugou knows that with time, all of his classmates will reach insane heights. They wouldn’t be in UA otherwise.

So Bakugou tries. Mostly because his stupid squad won’t leave him alone, but he tries.

When people hang out in the common rooms, he’s downstairs with them. If there’s a stupid Christmas party, or it's someone’s birthday, or the class wants to go out shopping or to play in the pool, Bakugou tags along with them more often than not.

There is a compromise though. With a social battery as small and easily drained as his, it isn’t uncommon for the class to find Bakugou chilling in a corner with his headphones in, simply taking in the vibe rather than actively participating. There’s no bad blood over this though- they kinda get it. Not everyone is as friendly or as vibrant as Kirishima or Kaminari. They’re honestly just glad he’s there at all, so they do their best to make sure he’s included while letting him set his own pace.

Bakugou’s in one of his recharging phases when he spots Jirou.

The earphone jack hero is wandering around, looking a little worse for wear. There are people from both 1A and 1B milling around, talking and laughing in the common areas, and the energy in the room is almost stifling. The blonde doesn’t miss the way Jirou covers her ears at one point.

From what he can tell, Jirou is an ambivert. She enjoys the company of others often, but she’s also perfectly fine being on her own, with a book and some music to keep her company. Right now, she seems exhausted, her own social battery running dangerously low.

Bakugou catches her eye. She gives him a small wave and he sticks his tongue out at her, pulling the skin under his eye down on one side. It’s petty and dumb, but he sees her huff a laugh and slowly meander towards him. Bakugou goes back to closing his eyes and tipping his head back, enjoying the familiar texture of the common room couch and the sound of the music in his ears drowning out everything else.

He feels the couch dip next to him, close but not too close. Jirou doesn’t touch him, doesn’t bother him, doesn’t shake or poke or otherwise engage him. She just sits there, stock-still.

When his eyes slip open again, Bakugou sees that she’s got her hands in her lap and she’s mimicking his posture, comfortably seated on the couch with her head tipped back. Her signature headphones are nowhere in sight though, and her eyes are open and red.

Distantly, Bakugou wonders if she’s forgotten them. That would suck ass- he’d be lost without his own pair. And Jirou’s relationship with music is on a level no one else can fathom- it’s literally part of her DNA, her quirk, her identity.

Bakugou isn’t sure what compels him to do it- maybe it’s because they both like bugging the hell out of Kaminari. Maybe it’s because Jirou is no-nonsense when it comes to hero work, which he can respect. Maybe it’s because, beneath all the teasing and smart-ass comments, Jirou has often looked out for him, advocating for the need for personal space when the idiot brigade drains him.

Whatever the reason, Bakugou finds himself pulling out his right earbud and holding it out for her, a silent invitation.

It takes maybe 4 seconds for him to feel the bud lifted gently from his fingers. Jirou is careful to not jar his own earbud when she adjusts his in her right ear, and Bakugou moves to raise the volume a little.

It is a bit annoying, yes, to have one ear open to the noise around them, but it’s not unbearable- far from it. He’s got some reggae on right now, a genre he indulges in when he needs to calm down and just relax his body.

When he turns to look at her, Jirou’s got a smile on her lips. Her feet are tapping to the beat effortlessly, and her fingers are mapping out the tune on an invisible fretboard. She opens her eyes and looks over at Bakugou, and her smile widens, crinkling the edges of her eyes.

Thank you, she mouths, flashing him another blinding smile. It makes Bakugou huff.

‘Whatever,’ he murmurs under his breath. The look in her eyes could not be mistaken for anything else- unadulterated gratitude and a heavy dose of love.

These gooey feelings are going to give him an upset stomach, Bakugou’s calling it right now.

---

Bakugou doesn’t even notice the pattern till Kirishima points it out to him.

It goes a little something like this- Bakugou feels off during training, or maybe doesn’t do as well as he’d expected on a test or project, or something just doesn’t go right. So naturally, he’s in a piss poor mood.

The squad’s antics don’t do much for him then, doesn’t really raise his spirits or anything, and he usually goes back to his room, slamming his door shut and pacing around like a caged tiger.

And that’s when his phone rings. The caller ID reads Pikachu.

‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘Bakubrooooooooo,’ Kaminari croons, and Bakugou wants to break something.

‘Fuck of-‘

‘You ever wonder if cereal is soup?’

All the fight drains out of Bakugou, leaving only confusion in its place. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, I mean, is cereal like a sub-category of soup or something? Wouldn’t that make sense?’

‘Dunce-face, what the fuck? That doesn’t even make sense? You don’t cook cereal?’

‘Yes, but you could eat it with a soup spoon. That should count for something.’

‘I hate you. So much.’

‘Aww, love you too bro. Ok, gotta go, byee~’

Bakugou stares at his phone, shocked and confused and annoyed.

But no longer angry. No longer pacing about, no longer in a foul mood.

Another time, after a particularly bad bout of training, ending with aching forearms and snarls of frustration because he needs to get better but it’s not happening fast enough, Bakugou wants nothing more than to scream into a pillow and maybe eat some hot sauce.

Again, he gets a call from Kaminari.

‘Wha-‘

‘Do you ever just think about pizza and cry?’

‘Huh?’

‘Yeah, I mean, I think humanity reached its peak when it invented pizza, you know? And that makes me cry. Such perfection.’ He can picture Kaminari making a chef’s kiss gesture, and it pisses him off.

‘This is why you called me? Are you fucking with me?’

‘It’s really an honest question Bakubro. Don’t you ever tremble at the sheer magnificence of pizza?’

‘Delete my number.’

‘No can do. Gotta go, love you, bye!’

And again, he’s gone, just as quickly as he arrived. And again, Bakugou is left feeling baffled and miffed but no longer angry, no longer itching to scream and claw and break something.

He still eats some hot sauce though.

Kirishima is with him after one of his bad days, sitting on his bed and trying to pacify him.

‘It’s ok, it-‘

‘Shut up, Shitty hair! Fuck-‘ His hands tremble with the need to just do something, vent somehow, to break the tension in his spine. He doesn’t want to snap at Kirishima, which is why he never lets him tag along when he stomps away to his room after a bad day, but the redhead can be ridiculously caring sometimes and Bakugou doesn’t want to hurt him.

He doesn’t know what else to do though.

‘Shit, I- you need to leave, get out before I-‘

His phone rings. Pikachu, it says.

‘Dunce-‘

‘I’ve decided that, in the event of an apocalypse, you and I are teaming up together.’

‘Wha-‘

‘I know you’d much rather team up with Kirishima, cause he’s so strong and handsome and he’s your best friend, but he’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, will die immediately. So, it’s just you and me Blasty.’

‘Fuck right off, why would I-‘

‘We could name ourselves the atomic blondes.’ Kaminari suddenly makes a whooping noise. ‘Damn, that’s perfect Bakugou! I gotta print tee shirts right now, we’d look amazing.’

‘I am not wearing anything that matches you, miss me with that shit.’

‘I promise it’ll be black, and like, soft, with skull patterns or something.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘I gotta go anyway, but you’re stuck with me Bakubro. Anyway, bye, love you!’

They end the call, or rather, Kaminari cuts it before Bakugou can get an insult or two in there, and when he looks back at Kirishima, he sees a big, goofy smile on his face.

‘What?’ he grumbles, tossing his phone on his bed.

‘He does that often?’

‘What, call me and say really random, really stupid shit? Yeah, all the damn time. I need to block his ass.’

‘Kinda sweet though, huh?’

Bakugou cocks his head. ‘What’re you talking about? It’s a fucking pain.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t seem as mad anymore.’

‘I-‘ And yet again, Bakugou is disgruntled and confused and irritated at himself, for getting swept up by Kaminari’s pace, but he’s not angry. All the fight has mostly bled out of his limbs, and he feels more or less normal if only a little on edge. Nothing too difficult to deal with.

‘Son of a bitch,’ Bakugou breathes. Kirishima’s smile is a tad wider, and he scoots over on the bed, making some space for Bakugou while he pulls out his laptop, ready to load up some shitty videos.

‘Tell him about this and I will never speak to you again,’ Bakugou grumbles finally, settling in next to Kirishima, leaning most of his weight into the redhead.

He feels Kirishima’s chest rumble with laughter.

‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Bakugou wonders if anyone’s ever tried to harness the power of feels to run turbines or some shit, because this stuff’s turning out to be overwhelmingly powerful.

---

In terms of quirk compatibility, Bakugou has found his perfect match in Kirishima.

The blonde’s quirk is perfect for offence. Granted, it’s exceptionally versatile and he can handle his own just fine, but with Kirishima, he feels invincible.

Red Riot is unmoving, unabashed, and utterly unbreakable. He knows Bakugou inside out, knows his moves, his tactics, his signals. They fight like a well-oiled machine, adjusting and improvising with ease. Fighting alongside Kirishima, alongside Red Riot, is like breathing. They almost dance around each other, and between taking down villains and conducting search and rescue, they’ve made themselves a formidable hero pair even before graduation.

So, it’s not uncommon for them to be paired up even when they’re working and interning under different heroes. They’re that good.

They’re on a mission together when things take a turn for the absolute worst.

Most of the pros are down, caught in the crossfire or too busy protecting the civilians to engage in combat. There are fires blazing everywhere, smoke congesting the air around them so much that Bakugou can barely breathe.

Riot stands next to him, breathing slightly laboured but otherwise unhurt. Bakugou has a cut on his forehead, blood running down his face, but he feels ok. Good enough to rush into battle and do his part in subduing these shitty villains.

But experience has taught him better than to run in with no plan, even when he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to rush into the action. Experience has taught him that without a moment to catch his breath and restructure the plan to achieve their goals, he’ll be doing a lot more harm than good. It’s frustrating as all hell, but he’s a hero in training. You learn this stuff on the job.

‘What do you think?’ He asks the redhead.

Kirishima straightens out his back, hands on his hips. ‘The elemental quirk user will probably be the biggest pain in the ass.’

Bakugou nods. ‘It seemed like a water quirk. We need to get her away from the buildings, away from the piping. There was also that shitty smoke user, he’s the reason the air is barely breathable.’

‘Yao-momo’s masks would’ve come so in handy right now,’ Kirishima muses with a smile.

Bakugou grunts in begrudging agreement but doesn’t comment further on it. ‘There should be three other villains, all with high-level quirks. I’m not sure which other pros will free up to help, but we have to isolate them, move them towards the construction site,’ Bakugou points somewhat East of their current location, ‘as per the plan.’

Kirishima nods in agreement and catches Bakugou’s eyes and the blonde’s breath hitches.

They don’t talk about it, but here’s the other thing- they’re probably going to get hurt, maybe even fatally. Not because they’re weak or they want to or anything, but the villains seem endless. They’re fucking strong too, and even with an army of heroes, the villains seem to come at them harder and faster the longer this battle goes on. Bakugou can feel his own stamina start to vain, and he knows Kirishima will hit his limit too, slower than the blonde but still. There will come a point when Kirishima’s skin won’t harden and Bakugou’s blasts will lower in intensity till all he can manage are sparks.

And even then, he knows they will fight with their fists and their bodies and their teeth. That’s what heroes do- they put everything on the line, for the people and for justice.

More often than not, they lose their lives for it.

Well, for what’s it worth, Bakugou could not have asked for a better partner by his side in such shitty, dire times. Kirishima’s soft smile seems to reflect his sentiments.

‘Hey, Katsuki?’

The hero code of conduct frowns upon the use of personal names in costume. You have a hero name for a reason, and it helps preserve your sense of anonymity and privacy, even if it’s pretty useless at its job.

For Kirishima to name him, and first name him at that, just goes to show how serious the situation is.

‘Yeah, Ei?’

‘Make me some hotpot when we get back, ok?’

Bakugou inhales deeply, coughs because of the stupid smoke, and his fists clench tight enough to leave crescent moons in his palms.

‘Only if I’m in the mood, Shitty Hair,’ Bakugou retorts, his voice far too soft for the King Explosion Murder hero. But that’s ok- here is only Eijirou, Katsuki, and the world burning around them. Soft is ok here.

Kirishima’s familiar belly-deep laughter gives him a boost of energy.

‘Let’s kick some ass.’

Bakugou feels, for one glorious moment, like he can take on the entire world.

They take their first few steps before Kirishima steps in front of him, blocking off his path. When he looks up to catch his eyes again, the blonde’s protests and insults die in his throat.

Kirishima’s gaze is trained on him as he slowly reaches forward and grabs Bakugou’s right forearm with his right hand, fingers digging into the muscle. It’s a firm, solid grip, reassuring and warm and so very familiar. His eyes are bright, bold, and wine-red. And they’re so full of love, brimming with the kind of affection, respect, and adoration that Bakugou never thought he’d be subjected to. Kirishima opens his mouth as if to say everything his body is already telling Bakugou.

‘I know,’ Bakugou interrupts, voice hoarse. Because he does know. The redhead is his best friend in the entire world, his person, his rock. ‘I know, Ei.’ His own fingers wrap around Kirishima’s wide forearm, gripping tight with calloused, too hot fingers.

Kirishima flashes him another soft smile past his headgear before letting go. He waits for Bakugou to catch up and they walk together, side by side, equals.

When they see the first villain, doing her best to uproot an entire building, Bakugou casts one last look at Kirishima, sees his positively feral smile, and charges with the force of a wild beast.

There are no feels there, just adrenaline, rage, and trust so thick, even concrete would crack under its weight.

---

When you’re training to be a hero, things can go wrong.

Accidents happen. People don’t move out of the way fast enough, or there’s a domino effect of some sort, or the aftershocks of one attack reaches a place it shouldn’t.

Bakugou’s switched up his training partner, choosing to train with Iida to fine-tune his aim and work with a fast-moving target. His blasts hit the mark sometimes, but not always. The gym is huge, so they aren’t really risking anyone with their training; at least, that’s how it is for a while.

But then, Bakugou takes aim and blasts at Iida, Iida dodges swiftly, the attack takes out a portion of the rock formations in the gym, and suddenly there’s a landslide headed right at Hagakure and Kaminari.

Bakugou doesn’t even think about it; his body moves before his brain catches up, and he’s suddenly in front of the two, arms raised to obliterate the debris when he realizes that a portion of the mountain had been laced with explosives for someone else’s training, and his quirk would make things exponentially worse. With the last few moments he has, Bakugou shoves Chargebolt and Invisible Girl away roughly and gets buried under the avalanche of debris.

The last thing he thinks he hears is a chorus of voices yelling Bakugou before his vision goes black.

---

And that’s what Bakugou remembers when he wakes up to white. White walls, white curtains, white sheets.

Unfortunately, the noise isn’t white. It’s annoyingly and stupidly loud.

‘There are too many of you here,’ Recovery girl says, sounding exasperated. ‘He will be fine, he just needs to regain his strength.’

‘Sensei, a whole section of a mountain fell on him, how can he just be fine?’ Jirou questions, sounding severely distressed.

‘Plus, this happened while he was saving me,’ Kaminari chips in. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

‘I have a secret healing quirk of my own,’ Ashido bullshits. ‘He’ll feel so much better when he hears my voice. I have to stay, it’ll be a crime for me to go.’

‘I can tape his wounds?’ Sero offers sheepishly.

He can hear Recovery Girl’s sigh from the other end of the room. ‘And you?’

‘He’s my person.’ Kirishima says it like it’s enough of an explanation.

Recovery Girl clicks her tongue. ‘Overdramatic, the lot of you. Play rock paper scissors or something, but I’m only allowing one of you to stay. The rest of you are going back to the dorms.’

The room bursts into noise again and Bakugou’s head feels like it’s splitting open.

‘HOLY FUCK, SHUT UP!’ The blonde roars from his bed. ‘I LOVE YOU GUYS, BUT IF YOU DON’T STOP YELLING, I WILL BODILY THROW YOU ALL OUT THE DAMN WINDOW.’

His own yelling does more harm than good to his throbbing head, but the noises stop completely so at least it did its job.

He’s alone for a blissful second before a crowd of five idiots surroundS his bed. Kirishima’s face peers into his, smile wide and eyes crinkled around the edges.

‘Hi, how you feeling?’

‘Like someone ran me through a garbage disposal and then put me in a microwave.’

‘Such details, much prose,’ Sero quips, earning him a chop from Ashido.

‘Blasty my love, can we do anything?’

‘Yeah, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.’

Jirou squeezes his calf from the foot of the bed. ‘You gave us a real scare there.’

‘I’m fine,’ Bakugou grumbles.

‘He will be,’ Recovery Girl reiterates, pushing them away and standing next to him. ‘I’ll do another bout of healing once you’ve recovered some of your strength. You can go back to the dorms before bed.’ She turns to his classmates. ‘Only one of you.’

They look at one another and everyone but Kirishima starts shuffling away reluctantly.

Kaminari lingers behind before quickly giving Bakugou a gentle hug. ‘Thanks,’ he whispers into his ear before pulling off and following after the others. Bakugou rolls his eyes and curls onto his side, yelping when he puts some weight on his tender side.

‘Easy,’ Kirishima mumbles, easing him onto his back. When Bakugou is finally comfortable, Kirishima drags one of the chairs lined up against the wall next to the bed and plops down, exhaling. Bakugou opens a tired eye to look at him and sees Kirishima with a stupidly smug smile on his face.

‘What?’

‘You love us, huh?’

Bakugou had hoped they hadn’t caught that, even though he’d screamed it loud enough for the entire building to have heard. Apparently, a cliff falling on you doesn’t stop you from blushing.

‘Fuck off, you were hearing things,’ he says anyway, because what is Bakugou if not in full denial about so many things?

Kirishima’s laugh is loving not mocking, and he puts his hand on Bakugou’s elbow.

‘Good to have you back Kats.’ He gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘Get some rest huh? I’ll be here when you wake up.’

Bakugou gives him a weak glare, but he can’t muster enough rage and anger because the absolute worst part is, he meant it. Because apparently being a rage-filled hero in training doesn’t make one impervious to feels.

Bakugou feels so betrayed by his own thoughts and emotions.

But right as he loses consciousness, he finds himself wondering if he minds all that much and he decides he doesn’t, almost not at all. The answer doesn’t really surprise him either.

He falls asleep to a cool breeze brushing over his skin and the sound of Kirishima humming under his breath.

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

Text

Too Close To Home (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: Hi! I'd like to request a Malcolm Bright x reader or OFC story. Malcolm and the reader know each other since a few years. The reader has grown up in an abusive family and also has anxiety. They spend more time together cuz of a case. When the reader gets into danger, Malcolm saves her. He guides her home afterwards. First he doesn't want to come in but then they spend the night together (smutty or not, whatever you prefer). Afterwards they experience the most peaceful sleep they've had in ages :) (by @angelicastiel), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Another case you & your team got to work on. This time, though, the backstory of the killer hit a bit too close to home. Still, you wanted to get the job done & arrest the murderer. There would have been a better, less dangerous way, but you could not change your actions anymore. And maybe you got something out of it. Something you had been wanting for the longest time.

Words: 3,827

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, angst, language, probably spoilers for season 2, father figure!Gil, little kidnapping situation, talks of murder (I mean, it’s Prodigal Son), first time writing for Prodigal Son (even though I do feel kinda confident writing for it, idk…let me know what you think)

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Being part of Gil Arroyo’s team was a dream coming true. Your years in college were spent working your ass off in order to end up in a job like that. Not only did Gil give you a place to work, he also took you under his wing. Talking about your past was something you dreaded but somehow you found yourself opening up to him. He knew about your parents & could tell when things started becoming too much for you. Throughout your time at the NYPD, you got closer with your team. Dani & JT had become your best friends. Malcolm, on the other hand, had been a different case. While the two of you sure were friendly with one another, you slowly developed a little crush on the profiler. Who were you kidding? You had the biggest crush, it was kind of embarrassing. Especially because Dani & JT teased the living hell out of you. Luckily, Gil had yet to notice. You did not want to bring private business into your job.

This case had been a tough one. Not only that but it hit too close to home for your liking. The killer you had been looking for left you a letter at the crime scene. It was a man who had been abused by his parents when he was younger. In that letter, he explained why he did what he did. Like, yeah, you came from an abusive household, too, but you were not running around, murdering a what looked like innocent man. Like, chill a bit. Gil pulled you a few feet away from the scene after you all had finished reading. This left Dani, JT & Edrisa alone with looking for more details. Malcolm was still nowhere to be found, even though all of you had tried calling him a couple of times.

“Maybe you should sit this one out.” Gil’s hand was on your shoulder, keeping you an arm’s distance away to take a look at your face. He knew right away that you were thinking about your own parents & sometimes things could be messy if private stuff got mixed up with work stuff. Again the reason why you kept your feelings for Malcolm at bay.

“Gil.” you sighed. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you guys need me.” Gil hated to admit it but you were right. The team was lost without you & nobody knew if your killer was planning another crime while you were inspecting this scene. A voice interrupted your conversation & both, you & Gil, looked at where it was coming from. Would you look at that. Malcolm, everyone. Fashionably late, as always. Why did he have to look so good though? Ugh…

“I heard there was another murder? What have we got?” Malcolm, being his usual self when it came to crime scenes, directed his questions at both of you.

“You would know if you decided to show up sooner.” Gil gave him a tight lipped smile & you could hear the sarcasm in his statement. Yeah, nobody could ever stay mad at Malcolm for a long time. Except maybe JT. But he seemed like he was just pissed off by whatever Malcolm did. That was why they were such great friends.

“The guy left us a letter, kind gesture, right? Edrisa should have it.” your arms crossed over your chest to hide how bad your hands were shaking. The action did not go unnoticed by Malcolm, though. He could tell you were uncomfortable. Your anxiety seemed even worse than usually. It was not like you ever opened up to Malcolm about your struggles. You had found it hard to talk about your feelings, even when you talked to Gil. But since Gil had become some sort of father figure to you, you found it a little easier to open up to him. The thing was that Malcolm was working even when he was not working. Which meant that he was profiling others even outside of work. It was not hard to notice your trembling hands, your bouncing legs, your struggle to keep eye contact. He could tell that your anxiety was bad. Most days, you hid it rather well, he had to give you that. A normal person would have never noticed anything wrong with your behavior. Malcolm, though, knew better & while he did not know what had happened to you in the past, he knew you were struggling nevertheless. But he could worry about you another time, for now, he had to focus on the crime scene.

As Malcolm walked over to where Edrisa was standing, you pulled at Gil’s hand, motioning him to follow you. Edrisa handed over the letter & explained briefly what they had found so far. You knew what was about to come. As did everyone else, so you quieted down & let the profiler do his job.

“Our dear murderer wrote the letter after he killed James here. The ink is too fresh & some of the letters are smudged. The printer in the office was still running when you got here, right?” this earned him a nod from Edrisa. “No fingerprints, though, he was smart enough to wear gloves. Which brings me to my assumption that he had planned this long beforehand. The bruises show that he was strangled & while we still have to wait for the autopsy, I’m almost entirely sure that he was killed because of that. I believe the stab wounds were caused after he died. The way his words were written sounds way too passionate for an accident. No, this guy, he was enjoying it. If it were an accident, he would have left the scene way sooner. But he took the time to type a letter & print it, to complete his mission by laying it right on top of our victim’s chest.” Malcolm finished & looked around to find everyone rolling their eyes except for you. Whenever he started rambling & piecing evidence together, you simply stood there mesmerized. This time was not different. His eyes met yours & he shot you a little smile which you copied.

“Anything else you wanna tell us? Like, why you’re way too excited about this entire thing?” JT spoke up. You gave him a little slap & chuckled.

“Don’t act like it’s something new.” laughing when you looked at his face.

“Okay, guys. Wrap it up here, we need to continue this at the precinct.” Gil’s authority voice came through & you all knew better than to mess with him.

Malcolm, Dani & JT were already in one of the offices when you & Gil came in. Usually, you asked Gil to take you everywhere, mostly because you got rather shaky during cases & you did not trust yourself enough to drive on your own. Gil told you he did not mind at all.

“Found anything useful?” you asked when you entered & looked over JT’s shoulder to make out what he was doing on his laptop. Malcolm stood at the front of the room, right in front of the whiteboard & was too busy sorting his thoughts to even notice you. Dani told you that they had no luck just yet & soon you found yourself helping them with research, something you were incredibly good at. Gil had left for a while but when he got back, he brought each of you a cup of coffee, knowing it was bound to be a long night without much rest. Being the stubborn person that you were, you declined his request of you calling it a night & heading back home. You were onto something & could not stop right now. Gil let the topic die down with a long sigh. The five of you spent the entire night looking for clues & connections & by the time the sun started rising, you had a plan filed out to catch the killer.

After hours of research, mostly from you, you found out that the victim had very wealthy parents. Parents who loved their kid like nothing else. Parents who would do anything for their kid. Checking his social media profiles, you could tell that he was not silent about his wealth or the love he felt for his parents. “Enough to get our killer started.” Malcolm had said. It took you a while but after checking James’ classmates, you had a suspect & after checking his social media accounts, you knew where you had to go to catch him. Sometimes, things could be so easy, so clear to see. Probably a bad idea to expect you were right with everything but you had a good feeling. Yet, you could not quite understand how someone could kill just because of envy. Just because they did not have what someone else did.

Your suspect spent almost all of his evenings in a local pub, not too far away from the precinct. It was a small pup, not a lot of people, but since it was Friday, you expected it to be filled tonight.

“Why does (Y/N) have to be bait again?” Malcolm asked after discussing the plan yet another time.

“Because she looks more like a guest of a pub like that. You would be out of place, so would Dani & JT.” Gil reasoned. He did not like the idea either but it was probably the best shot they had.

“Right, because if I make an effort I can actually look like an alcoholic. Is that what you’re saying?” despite your chuckle, you found yourself growing more & more nervous. Malcolm noticed right away, didn’t comment on it though.

“What I’m saying is that we all want this asshole locked up & I don’t want you to look like an alcoholic. I want you to go there as if you just got done with work for the day. Take a seat at the bar. We’ll be connected with you this entire time, we’ll hear your conversation. Wait a little & if he doesn’t approach you then you will. Understood?” Gil looked around the room, kept his focus on you, though, & when you nodded he told you all to head off & get this party started.

“You’re nervous.” you flinched when you heard a voice beside you. Malcolm. Of course.

“I’m not. Just preparing myself.” you did not mean to sound this harsh but he did not really pay attention to that.

“So your shaking hands are a form of preparation?” he teased but you could not focus on his way of calming you right now. Your anxious mind was killing you.

“Look, Mal, I need to go, okay? We’ll talk later.” & before he even had the chance to answer, you were sprinting off.

Ordering a strong drink at the bar in the hopes of it calming your nerves, you tried acting as if you did go out every night. In fact, you were highly uncomfortable. Crowds made your anxiety act up & pubs were usually worse. Drunk people wanting to get laid or whatever. It just was not your world. Anyway, you had better things to focus on. Your suspect had already walked up to the bar & took, much to your dismay, a seat too far away from you to start an actual conversation. Quickly informing your team, an idea popped into your head. He would start taking an interest in you if you got him to grow envious. So without overthinking, you grabbed your phone from your purse & pretended dialing someone.

“Hi mom! How are you?” as much as it hurt saying those words, you felt accomplished when you noticed the suspect’s eyes on you. “Great, as always! We still on for lunch tomorrow?...Perfect! Actually, I wanted to thank you for the purse you got me! I found the package earlier today, you are crazy. That’s way too much.” if it were not for your job at the NYPD, you would make one hell of an actor. Deep down, your heart was breaking a little more with each word you said. “Oh? I’m your favorite daughter? I’m your only daughter, mom, but thanks.” you gave a genuine, or at least you hoped it sounded genuine, laugh & continued. The man had already made his way over to you & took the empty seat next to you. You had him, not fully but almost. Just keep going, you thought to yourself. “Tell dad I miss him, too! I’ll make sure to meet up with him soon. A much needed father-daughter weekend. It has been too long…Alright, I love you too, bye.” you ended your call & placed the phone back into your purse. Gil would kill you after you finished this case. Once again you were improvising but at least it got you here, sitting next to a possible killer. Possible killer? No, you knew it was him. He made it rather obvious after that fake phone call. Thinking about what you had just said on the phone got cut short by the man beside you speaking up.

“Sounds like a nice mom.” a drink in his hand, his gaze not focused on you but on the liquid in his glass.

“Oh, she’s the best. I’m lucky to have her. Same goes for my dad.” these words hurt so bad & if you were not so focused on arresting this asshole you would have started breaking down right in the middle of this bar.

“I’m Enrico, by the way.” he held out his hand for you to shake which you did.

“(Y/N).” faking another smile at him, you were surprised that your silly plan actually seemed to work. This dude was desperate. And it made him extremely dangerous.

“(Y/N), wanna head out & catch some fresh air? This pub is filling up.” he placed money on the counter, paying for not only his but also your drink. Thanking him, you got up. When his hand grabbed yours, you slightly flinched but did not pull away. The thought of your team waiting outside with handcuffs made you breathe easier. Arriving outside did not exactly put your mind at ease. Where was your team? Just when you wanted to turn around, you felt a strong grip around your waist & a cloth being held in front of your nose & mouth. There was not even enough time to scream before you were met with darkness.

Loud voices woke you up. A gunshot. Shit, why could you not move? Where the fuck were you? Looking down at your wrists, you saw them being chained tightly to a chair. Suddenly, a person was kneeling in front of you & you were surprised to find Gil helping you out of the chains. His mouth was moving but your heartbeat was too loud to make out any other noises.

“Have you got him?” Gil rolled his eyes at your question but soon after, nodded. This could have ended badly for you & he was just happy to see you alive & breathing.

“You hurt?” this time his voice was more serious. He looked you over but besides the bruises on your wrists, you seemed fine. Shaking your head no was enough for him to drop it for now.

“That was stupid, (Y/N). We could’ve walked in there & just arrested him in that damn pub. Why did you think it was a good idea to start this whole pretending thing?”

“Could we please not do this today, Gil? I’m tired.” you felt ashamed, embarrassed that you did not handle the situation better. Usually, you were way more careful when it came to other cases. You could not even tell why you thought you needed to act out an entire scene. It felt like the right decision at the time.

“Malcolm? Come over here.” Gil decided to let you rest for tonight but he sure as hell would teach you a lesson tomorrow. He could not have another person risking everything & acting irresponsible. He already had Malcolm. No need to have another one like him.

“(Y/N)? Oh, thank God.” Malcolm came jogging over to where you & Gil were. A small smile started forming, signaling that you were fine.

“Take her home with you. She shouldn’t be alone tonight.” & with that he left you & Malcolm alone.

Two hands came into view & you let yourself be pulled up into a standing position. Malcolm still held onto you since your legs were on the verge of giving out. After a few seconds, though, you felt steady enough & thanked him for helping you. Without another word, he took your hand in his & dragged you outside to his car. Any other day, you would have blushed like crazy but your exhaustion was overpowering your crush. Malcolm opened the passenger side for you & helped you in. Then, he got around to the driver’s side. His body turned towards you & when you noticed that the car still had not been started, you found Malcolm staring at you. Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. After a long pause & a deep breath of his, Malcolm’s voice broke the silence in the car.

“That was-“

“Stupid, I know. Gil already told me.” usually, you would have sounded sarcastic but tonight, you did not have the strength to try & act like you were fine. Because if you were honest, everything that had happened got you thinking. Not that you could have died but everything that had happened with your parents. How awful they treated you. How abusive they were. Not trying to start another conversation, Malcolm started the engine & drove up to his apartment. Gil’s order, after all. Though, he had to admit that he liked the idea of you being close to him. Hell, he could have lost you today. He could have lost you & you still had no idea about his feelings for you. Simply because he was too much of a coward when push came to shove.

The car ride was silent & the tension could have been cut with a knife. Once or twice you almost started talking, wanting to explain yourself. Why you were so exhausted. It was not the first time you got close to death but it was certainly the first time where your past came catching up. Each time, though, you chickened out.

“I’m sorry.” it was you who spoke up first when you entered Malcolm’s apartment.

“What for?” Malcolm turned his focus back to you.

“I made this case unnecessarily hard for you guys. I should’ve handled it better. It’s just…this thing with this fake phone call, it was…fuck, how do I say this?” the last part you mumbled to yourself but when Malcolm spoke up again, you knew he had heard you.

“It’s okay. Gil told me about your parents. I get it, I do. I probably would’ve done the same thing & then it would’ve been you & Gil telling me I was stupid.” you chuckled lightly & Malcolm was happy that you were not mad at him for knowing about your past. He had been aware of your struggles before, now he could finally tell where they were coming from.

Strangely, you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, now that Malcolm knew. At least you knew he would never judge you, he had his own…familial issues after all. Tears started forming in your eyes & you tried blinking them away angrily, frustrated that you were losing it now even though the situation had been dealt with.

“Come here.” Malcolm opened his arms & you gladly accepted the invitation. Throwing yourself onto him like your life depended on it. His arms wrapped strongly around you. Not in an uncomfortable way, more like in a comforting way. The two of you simply stood in the middle of his apartment, not saying anything, he let you cry it all out & in that moment, it was all you needed.

“Thank you. Sorry for messing up your shirt.” a quiet laugh escaped you. It was not much but it was a good start.

“It’s no problem, really. Here, I’ll bring you some clothes to sleep in, I’m sure you don’t wanna sleep in work clothes?” Malcolm opened one of his drawers & grabbed a basic t-shirt & some sweatpants. Not much but definitely way more comfortable than what you were wearing right now. This was not your first time being at Malcolm’s home so you helped yourself & moved into his bathroom to take a quick shower & change into his clothes. It only took you about ten minutes, you were craving sleep.

“You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” Malcolm was setting up his couch to sleep on when you came out of the bathroom.

“Nope, forget it. I wont let you take that couch.” you argued.

“Hey, it’s a comfortable couch!” he defended his way too expensive piece of furniture.

“What about your restraints?”

“Don’t need them when you’re around.” Malcolm let slip without much thought. Only when you tilted your head & raised your eyebrows did he realize what he had just said. “I mean…I don’t know. I’m usually much calmer when I’m with you.” It was funny to see Malcolm trying to explain himself. He was embarrassed but you were putting a stop to it right away.

“Okay, so I guess it would help even more when you’re right next to me, am I right? Your bed is big enough, Mal.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & soon you found yourself laying on one side of the bed while Malcolm was occupying the other.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved or said anything. The silence was not uncomfortable, the situation was still new for the both of you. Yet, you knew what you wanted. What you needed. So you grabbed one of Malcolm’s hands, turned around & let his arm fall around your waist. This action caught him off guard but he relaxed into the new position quickly. While the both of you still had not confessed, this felt like a step into the right direction. You felt safe in his embrace & knew you could be your true self with him. No hiding whatsoever. That thought made you smile. Exhaustion soon took over but the last words you heard before falling into a peaceful slumber were: Sleep well, (Y/N). I’ve got you. Afterwards, he pressed a light kiss on your shoulder & fell asleep himself. Tonight, your struggles could be forgotten. At least for a few hours until morning came around. Then, you still had enough time to deal with whatever was happening between you & Malcolm. Tomorrow, you could deal with your past some more. But right now, all you wanted was to have a peaceful night & Malcolm could give you just that.

Published (03/25/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @fandom-queen67, @cons-tit-ution, @where-thesundoesntshine, @itsanemu0101, @chill-fangirl, @angelnyx, @octopus5555, @the-unknown-fan-girl (thanks for your support <3 - sorry if I tagged you mistakenly/please let me know if I did)

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby.

Day 10: Shop Till You Drop

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: Instalment 10 of mine, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @jennmurawski13 ‘s telling of Ransom’s quest to become a normal human being. This time Ransom takes on a Supermarket…

Series Masterlist.

“Will you stop!” You sighed, exasperatedly.

“Stop what?” Ransom frowned, tossing another box of Pop Tarts into the trolley he was pushing round the Supermarket

“Loading the trolley full of crap!”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t need it.”

“So?” he shrugged “I want it.”

You let out another groan “That’s all it ever boils down to with you isn’t it?”

“What the fuck is eating you today?” he snarked back, folding his arms across his chest. “Or is it more a case of nothing has eaten you, if you get my drift?”

“God you’re a fucking…” you growled and shook your head, “frankly the thought of you going near me at the moment makes me wanna puke. I’m tired. I have back ache and my legs are sore. We came in with a list and it should have taken us twenty minutes tops but oh no, you just keep stopping for a load of shit we don’t need and it's taking us twice as long and I just want to go home!”

The last word broke as you began to sob, the damned hormones flooding your system and Ransom’s eyes flew open in panic. He was used to your little outbursts thanks to his spawn growing inside of you, but this was the first time you’d had one in public.

“Y/N, stop.” He urged you, moving round the trolley towards you. He hesitated, before he opened his arms, clearly not sure if you were going to slap him or not but you didn’t have the energy. Instead you let him pull you to him, pressing your face into his sweater, breathing in his heady scent. His hands gently ran up your back as you fought for control, eventually pulling away as you looked up at him. His large hands cupped your face gently and he pressed his lips to yours, smirking a little “And you say I’m a brat?”

“Fuck off, Ransom.” You pulled away.

“Okay, okay!” he chuckled. “Look, why don’t you-“ he fished into his jeans pocket and handed you the keys to the Merc “-go wait in the car? I’ll finish up.”

“You’re going to finish getting the groceries?”

“Yeah.”

You blinked, before you shrugged “Fine, but don’t forget anything on that list or I swear to God you’ll be couched for a week.”

“Jesus, Y/N.” He plucked the list out of your hand, rolling his eyes “Just go for fucks sake.”

You glared at him once more before you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the aisle, without so much as a look back. As you left through the exit, you took a deep breath, instantly feeling calmer and you felt a little guilty at your outburst as he hadn’t actually been doing much wrong. He had always been a pain in the ass when it came to shopping and you’d tried so hard to get him to stay at home, but he was insistent that he came to help. You should be grateful really, you knew that, he was only trying to ensure you didn’t do too much but all it resulted in was him getting on your last nerve and an emotional outburst like the one you’d just had.

True to form he’d been a complete fucking tool from the moment you set foot in the shop. Completely ignoring you and piling anything and everything he liked the look of into the trolley, even if you knew half of it would go to waste. But that was him and his damned family all over. More money than fucking sense.

Fuck it, he could deal with it. You were going to take a nap in the comfy passenger seat whilst he finished. And woe betide him try anything when you got home later on that evening, if he so much as made a single amorous advance towards you that night you’d rip his cock off.

****

Ransom watched Y/N stalk off away from him an exhaled, loudly, whilst also giving himself a mental pat on the back for being smart enough to tell her to go and wait in the car. Allowing her to rest whilst he complete the shopping was most certainly going to put him in her good books. And, if he played his cards right and even unloaded the groceries at the other end, he’d most certainly get a bit of bedroom fun later on.

Yup, Ransom Drysdale was a clever bastard.

That said, he did feel a tad guilty. He knew she’d been struggling the last few days with her back and seeing her burst into tears in the middle of Whole Foods had made him realise just how much energy she was using growing their baby. Maybe he had been a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hadn’t meant to be. He just liked what he liked and seeing as money wasn’t an issue why shouldn’t he get it?

He glanced down at the list, there wasn’t that much left on it. So he hastily made his way around the store allowing himself only one little detour for an unlisted item- some Lavender and Camomile bath salts for Y/N which he intended to use later when he drew her a bath to help her relax- and then made his way to the check outs.

This was the bit he hated, with a passion. Unloading and then waging a war with the damned items at the other end whilst he tried to bag them as quickly as the checkout ninja scanned them and slid them down to him. However, as luck would have it, today’s ‘ninja’ was more of a ‘nan-ja’, and to his relief the coffin-dodger took her time, having to bend so close to the screen to see the items her nose might as well have been touching it. This allowed him enough time to bag everything as Y/N did- raw meats separate, then chilled, frozen, fresh and tinned. He paused, as the final bag containing the 3 bottles of his preferred wine and a 4 pack of beer felt a little strained and he pondered double bagging. But decided against it. It was only going in the back of the car from the trolley, he’d just make sure to support it underneath.

Eventually the woman, who now he studied her must have been the same age as his fucking Great-Nana Wanetta, scanned the last item which was a bar of Y/N’s favourite chocolate he’d picked up from the stand at the end of the checkout, and turned to him smiling. She read out the total and he passed his card over, looking around as she scanned it and pressed a few buttons. Finally, the ordeal was over and he took his card and receipt before making his way back outside.

Job well done, even if he did say so himself.

He pushed the trolley over the car park, stopping only to hurl abuse at some absolute moron in a Toyota who nearly took him out when he skidded round the corner, and opened the trunk to the car. He loaded the bags, took the trolley back (well, he pushed it to the spare space besides the car because fuck walking over to the Trolley Park, that’s what they paid the simpleton in the hat and hi-viz to do) and made his way to the driver’s door. He dropped in besides his girl and she turned to face him, a smile spreading across her face as he handed her the Hershey’s.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Its ok baby.” He smiled at her as she leaned over to give him a soft kiss “Cooking my boy is zapping it outta you huh?”

“Just a tad.” She shrugged “But I shouldn’t have snapped. Thank you for finishing up.”

Ransom shrugged “No big deal.” he gave her another quick kiss before he put the car in reverse and drove towards the parking lot exit, a soft smirk playing on his handsome face

Yup, he was off Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

*****

“Go and put your feet up, I got this.” Ransom assured you as you made your way to the trunk to help unload the shopping.

"You sure?"

“Positive.” He nodded, his arms wrapping around you from behind, large hands sweeping over the front of your jacket, softly caressing your bump. “It won’t take me long to unload and put it all away. Then we can curl up and I’ll order us that pizza you’ve been talking about all day.”

“Extra olives?”

“Whatever you want.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and you bit your lip. You had to admit, that did sound like a damned fine idea. And, to be honest, he was pretty good at unpacking groceries, that was one area he was actually trained in after years of you whipping him into shape.

“Okay.” You tilted your head round to look at him, giving him a quick kiss “Can you keep the mincemeat out for tomorrow’s dinner and the rest of the meat-“

“Can go in the freezer, yeah, I know.” He stepped back, reaching for a bag “I’m not a complete moron.”

“Debatable.” You muttered, ignoring the eye-roll that came your way as you stepped away from him. You headed to the front door, your pace slow as your baby was doing what felt like the tango in your belly. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently, especially when Ransom had touched your bump and spoken to you, almost like he was reacting directly to his Daddy. When you’d told Ransom so the previous night, he’d positively beamed at you with pure unadulterated love on his features, something which you were sure no one but you ever saw. You rubbed your belly, a soft smile on your face, telling your unborn son to quieten down a little, and you’d just unlocked the door when you heard a loud yell, followed by the smashing of glass and a string of expletives from your husband.

“Mother fucking, asshole, bastard crap bag!”

You spun round to see Ransom stood with a carrier bag in his hand, the bottom flapping as it had completely given way. Green and brown glass littered your drive way as a pool of red-wine and beer swam around his expensive chukkas. He screwed the bag up, tossing it into the trunk as he ran a hand through his hair, growling in annoyance.

“How much did you just drop all over the drive way?” you asked and he peeked up at you and grimaced.

“Eighty bucks worth. That was some quality merlot.”

“Well, maybe next time you’ll remember to double bag.” You shook your head, before you nodded to it “Make sure you clean that up. I’d hate to reverse over it and get another flat. Woe betide we have a performance like last time.”

“Oh, I dunno.” He quipped, a smirk spreading across his face “I happen to think the performance last time was pretty good. You certainly didn’t have any complaints once I got you back inside and sat on my face.”

You blinked, before you scoffed and shook your head “Do you know where the brush and dustpan is or should I draw you a map?”

“Fuck you.” He shot back, his eyes narrowed in a glare and you grinned, shrugging.

“Maybe later.” and with that you headed inside leaving him to grieve for his precious alcohol, which had been taken from him far too soon…

#real life taks with ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger days - Chapter four: "She doesn't help me"

Word count: 8,5K

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x OC + My Chemical Romance

Summary: Joey starts touring, and soon things start getting awkward with Gerard. Also, Frank is somehow jealous 'cos he wants to get all of her attention. Mikey spends most of the time drunk in this chapter and Ray is the father figure all these kids need.

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk talk, dirty thoughts, mentions of a boner someone is trying to hide, bad jokes, and a lot of cursing.

A/N: Ok Matthew fans, there's a lot of My Chemical Romance in this chapter, but we all need context and Joey has to be locked with them for A LONG WHILE. Also, all the "Text in italic" are thoughts and arguments our heroes are having with themselves.

All of this is fiction. And the gif ain't mine.

Masterlist

::: LAX, October 21st 2011 :::

Joey's eyes were still watered up as she stared at her boarding pass, making her best to stop crying. She had just hugged Matthew goodbye, and her heart felt like it was breaking as every second passed. She missed him already, and she felt like a sick cliché. She could still feel his arms around her, holding her tight, and his lips kissing her between tears, both of them crying as neither wanted to say goodbye. Joey knew she would keep on crying as they waited for their flight, so she walked away from their gate and tried to disappear among the people.

- "I miss you"- she read the text Matthew just sent her and wiped off the tears from her cheeks.

- "Me too"- she quickly wrote and held her cell phone close.

- "Hey!"- Mikey almost yelled next to her, making her jump.

- "Where the fuck did you come from?!"

- "The dutty free, I had to get some more chocolate for the flight"- Joey looked at him, still surprised, and making her best not to show how sad she was.

- "Why are you crying?"- it was clear she had failed.

- "I'm miserable 'cos I'm not gonna see Matthew in two weeks."

- "It's just two weeks, calm down"- Mikey tried to cheer her up and gave her a chocolate bar.

- "Well, I'll miss him too much."

- "I promise you, we are gonna have so much fun, you won't be sad the whole trip,"- Mikey wrapped an arm around her and messed with her hair.

- "Thanks"- she whispered just to be polite. She was too sad to believe him.

After a week and a half working with the band, Mikey was the closest band member Joey could call a friend among the guys. He and Ray were the nicest and always made her feel comfortable. They would joke around in rehearsals and have lunch together. It was nice. It felt good, like high school friends.

Frank and Gerard were a completely different story because though Joey felt they were very nice, things could become very uncomfortable very quickly with them. Frank would always start a conversation and share a nice laugh, but each time they stayed quiet, his eyes turned into a magnet she couldn't stop staring at. And it felt too intense, like Frank was even flirting a little bit. Sure, she thought he was cute, but he was married, and she knew things were never going to take a weird turn.

And about Gerard, well, that was even weirder. Completely odd. A case of study. He would make his best not to be alone with her, and she could feel it. She knew he always paid attention to what she was saying in a conversation. Still, he constantly made an effort not to talk to her directly. But when they were playing, she could feel her knees go weak each time he looked at her. That man sweated sensuality, and it took all she had in her to stop looking at him each time he moved closer to her. She couldn't concentrate, and she had to keep her eyes closed most of the time to avoid staring into his red hair, his fine ass, and pretty much anything related to him.

Joey knew she would never cheat on Matthew with Gerard. She just thought the singer was too hot for his own good. And for hers. It was a good thing he kept his distance. Well, except for the next ten and a half hours, ‘cos they had seats together.

- "Hey"- she cut him a shy, nervous smile and took a deep breath as soon as he appeared next to her. She had to stuff her hands in his pocket for a minute, ‘cos she was afraid they were going to start shaking. Yes, that's how uneasy she got around him. It wasn't something that happened right away. It developed over the week, and she tried to make lights off the deal most of the time.

- "Bitch, you are working with him. You can't act like a teenager around him just because he is hot. You don't even wanna date him or whatever, you love Matthew… you just wanna stare at this guy from a safe distance 'cos he is so fucking sexy!"- Joey thought.

- "Hey"- Gerard stood still and looked at the empty seat next to Joey. The rest of the band was spread on the plane, and neither seemed to be close for switching seats.

- "Ok, you can do this. She is your coworker. Just keep it casual,"- he thought and moved over to sit next to her.

Neither of them said a word for a while. Joey opened her backpack and grabbed the book she was reading, and Gerard kept scrolling down his phone. He looked out of the corner of his eyes and tried to catch the name of the book, but he couldn't. So he tried again, this time pretending to be uncomfortable in his seat, and he succeeded. He found out Joey was reading a book he didn't know.

- "Are you ok?"- the girl asked and turned to the man that looked blushed, almost caught in something.

- "Yeah, I just… wanted to take off my jacket"- he did so and stuffed it under the seat. Joey looked at him and nodded. The fact that he moved made his perfume reach her, and it was delicious.

- "So, what are you reading?"- his curiosity won.

- "Bestiario, it's a Julio Cortazar book I loved back in school. Mom sent me a box of my old stuff the other day, and I found it."

- "Never heard of him"

- "It's an Argentinian writer. He is awesome. His short stories and how he successfully created surrealist worlds are poetical."

Joey explained but made her best not to look into Gerard's eyes, so she kept staring at his hands playing on his lap.

- "Besides, he was a rebel. He used language his own way, creating words and neologism… I just love him."

By the end of her speech, she failed and turned her gaze at Gerard's, making her hold her breath.

- "Sounds impressive"- he whispered and cleared his throat.

- "You can read it if you want,"- Joey said and looked away quickly, feeling her cheeks blush- "It's a long trip."

- "Thanks"- and after that, the two of them fell silent again.

How had Joey ended up so affected by Gerard? She had a wet dream about him. One amazing wet dream that she couldn't shake off her head. And after that, she wouldn't stop looking at him differently. He was sexy. He was definitely fuckable. He was hot, and he was smart. He was trouble. She had to keep a cold head around him. A complete challenge for that long trip.

Why was it so hard for Gerard? ‘Cos since he first saw her, he got a boner in his pants, and that shit hadn't changed. If anything, it had gotten worse. That didn't mean they were going to fuck or be together or fall in love. Whatever the thing that caused him to be affected by her had to be shut down. And the sooner, the better.

- "Are you ok?"- Ray asked Frank, who kept moving and trying to catch what Gerard and Joey were doing.

- "Yeah, why?"

- "Because you are fucking driving me insane! You are too restless, and you haven't let me sleep in the last hour!"

- "Wanna switch places? Ask Gerard if he wants to sit with you."- Iero said and smiled- "Very smooth Frank, that way Ray will find out in a minute you wanna sit with Joey"- he nearly slapped himself.

- "No, I just want you to stop moving!"- Ray argued, with a tone of voice that sounded (again) more like a father than like a band member.

- "Fine"- Frank whispered, frustrated, and crossed his arms on his chest.

- "What's wrong with you?"- Toro turned to his friend, truly concerned something was tormenting him- "Is it about leaving the babies?"

- "Yeah"- Iero answered and looked outside the window.

It was the truth, but it wasn't just all of it. The actual fact was that he wanted to know if Joey and Gerard were talking. He knew his friend had a crush on her. It was too obvious for him, though the rest of the band nearly noticed it.

But Frank did. He knew each time Gerard stared at Joey more than he had to while she was playing drums. He also recognized the perfume Gerard rarely wore, only when he tried to catch someone's attention. And damn it! He didn't want Joey to notice his friend. He knew Gerard wasn't going to do anything, but if she was going to have a crush on someone in the band, that should be him, not Gee.

Each time Gerard's knee touched Joey, it felt like an electric shock against Joey's skin. That didn't let her concentrate on her book. Gerard didn't seem to notice, though, which was good. She didn't want him to know how much he could affect her. Not even she wanted to know how much he affected her. She knew she loved Matthew, and she would never cheat, but feeling so attracted to someone else made her very uneasy.

She opened her backpack and grabbed her iPod. The smartest thing to do was to listen to some music, read and forget about the fact the hottest guy she had ever met- except for Matthew, of course- was sitting next to her, reading a Stephen King novel, unaffected by her presence.

Gerard had managed to concentrate on his book for a few minutes, but each time Joey's leg softly brushed his, he shivered, so he ended up pretending to be cold. And covered his lap with his jacket. That was also very helpful in case he'd get an involuntary and inappropriately timed boner.

Suddenly, the soft touch of Joey's head reached his shoulder. She was asleep and casually cuddled against him. Was she faking it? It didn't seem so, she still had her headphones on, but the book had left her hands and fallen on her lap. She was asleep, resting her head softly against him.

- "Ok, Gerard, years of practice have come to this moment. Think about math, equations, science test, dissecting a frog, anatomy class, your drummer's body on that Misfits tank top she wore the other day… no! no, again, math, physics, avocado, coconut oil… Her hair smells like coconut oil… I wonder if she would let me spread coconut oil on her… Gerard!! You have a wife you love! Stop this!"

Gerard jumped on his seat, and Joey quickly woke up.

- "Wha…"- she turned to him confused, and he cut her a sweet soft smile- "Shit! I'm so sorry!"- the girl started apologizing right away, completely blushed.

- "No, don't be, you just fell asleep."

- "I'm so sorry."

- "Hey, it's ok"- Gerard said and acted all cool- "My shoulder is your shoulder… we still have eight more hours to reach London, and I am guessing you are a sleeper."

Joey's cheeks were burning as she sat correctly, her heart racing in her chest. Ok, that wasn't what was supposed to happen. And the tour hadn't actually started yet. Great.

The girl looked in her phone for old pictures with Matthew. Honestly, she already missed him, and she wanted to look at his face, remembering what was waiting for her back home.

- "You guys are a cute couple,"- Gerard said and regretted his words as soon as they left his lips- "Cute couple?! What the fuck was that? What am I? A fucking asshole, that's for sure."

- "Thank you"- Joey blushed and kept her eyes on Matthew's picture on her phone- He has been a real support for me ever since we met.

- "How long have you been dating?"

- "Six months and two weeks"- she answered proudly- "We met at the studio one day, he asked me out for coffee... and we've been drinking coffee together ever since."

The two of them smiled at each other and stayed quiet.

- "Your wife is amazing"- Joey added ‘cos it felt like the polite thing to do.

- "Thanks. Yeah, she is incredible."

- "How did you meet her?"

- "Touring, we were at the Project Revolution one year, and by the end of the tour, we got married."

- "Wow, that was fast"- Joey said, thinking out loud- "Shit! Less than three months and he got married?! How can you be sure to do such a thing? Well, maybe when you know you know… but I don't know… seems a little rushed to me."

- "We knew it was the right thing to do,"- he explained calmly-" We knew we didn't want to be apart from each other when the tour ended."

- "That's so sweet"- and after that, the conversation was dead- "So, I'm gonna try to sleep some more. If I fall on your shoulder, don't doubt to wake me up, please."- the girl said and fixed the little travel pillow behind her neck.

- "Don't worry, it's ok, I'm gonna catch a movie"- Gerard answered and smiled one more time, their eyes locked at each other- "Ok Gerard, just look away"- he thought and made his best to follow his own command, but he couldn't.

- "Come on, Joey!! Breath and fall asleep, and stop drooling for him all over! You are pathetic"- the girl wanted to hit herself as she cleared her throat and turned to grab her headphones.

- "Do you want to check out my book?"- she asked and handed him over the one she was reading before- "Stupid! He said he wanted to watch a movie."

- "Yeah! It sounded pretty good. I'll take a look at it while you snore"- he joked, and she blushed. Their hands brushed when she brought closer the book to him, and a little electric shock hit the two of them.

- "Ok, I'll sleep now"- Joey whispered and turned to look over the window- "Just try to sleep for the next eight hours, and you'll be peachy."

Mikey Way asked for another scotch and turned to the window. He wanted to get drunk and sleep. Being drunk was his new nature. Whatever could numb the pain away. He didn't even get to see his wife before he left for the tour. She called and wished him luck. That was it. And still, he wasn't brave enough to be the one to put out on the table the divorcing reality that came ahead. He didn't want to be the one to put an end to it all.

- "Hey"- Frank appeared and sat next to him- "What are you doing?"

- "Drinking, what does it seem like I'm doing?"

- "Being a jerk, that's what it looks like."

- "If you don't like it, you can leave"- but Frank didn't. Basically, because Ray had kicked him out of their seat for being too irritating. And James was snoring. Instead, he took a sip of Mikey's whiskey and nodded.

- "Good shit."

- "Get one for yourself and let me sleep"

- "Damn it! Why is everybody so obsessed with sleeping?"

- "Get out!"- Mikey Way mouthed with his eyes closed, and Frank had no other way but to stand up. He looked around the place until he found the red hair he wanted to spy on. Iero walked slowly, pretending to go to the bathroom, acting casual, which was completely stupid. No one was actually looking at him.

- "Oh hey!"- he said when she stood next to Gerard and Joey's row. He looked at him, raising his eyes from the book, and smiled. Joey was asleep and didn't even move. Her head rested on the seat, and she didn't seem to hear what was going on around her.

- "Hey Frank, what are you doing?"

- "Nothing, I just wanted to see what you were doing. Apparently, Ray doesn't want to sit with me, and Mikey doesn't want to sit with anyone."

- "Why?"- Gerard frowned, confused.

- "No idea, I think he is drunk,"- Frank made a pause and smiled at his friend- "So do you wanna go sit with me somewhere and talk for a while?"

Iero asked casually, though he basically just wanted to move Gerard away from Joey.

- "Not really"- Way simply answered- "Joey just lend me this fantastic book, and I want to read it while she sleeps"

- "Oh"- Frank didn't see that answer coming- "That's ok"- and didn't know what to say- "I'll just… go see a movie or something."

- "Ok"- Gerard directly answered and went back to the book. Frank had no other choice but to look away.

- "Ok fucker, what's the big deal? She is there, they are not even talking, she is asleep, you don't wanna be with her or anything, you are not jealous… you just don't want her to be with Gerard. Wait, is that shit being actually jealous? Nah, no, it's not. No. No way. I just… Nah, it's nothing, just shut up".

Frank plopped himself on this seat and covered his face with both hands. Decided to stop thinking shit, he put on his headphones and pushed play on his iPod. It was better to sleep than to do any other stupid thing for the rest of the trip.

Gerard woke up slowly. He never noticed falling asleep. His head rested comfortably to his right against someone else, who soon he realized was Joey.

He tried not to move and came conscious of the moment. She was still asleep, and her perfume filled the air between them. Gerard didn't move an inch. He didn't want to wake her up. He was enjoying this proximity. He felt their legs side by side, brushing against each other as his heart raced. Her body felt warm next to him, and that soft touch made him hungry for some more. A lot more. He couldn't stop wishing he could move her and kiss her whole body, right there, in the middle of the plane.

- "Shit! No!"- he felt his blood pumping down his belly and knew what was happening- "Melted plastic, NSync, funerals, Joey dressed like Morticia, laid on my bed… no!! Stop this!"

But it was too late to stop the boner. It was now time to hide it before Joey- or anyone else- could see it.

The girl sighed and opened her eyes, still half asleep. She had cuddled at Gerard's neck again, and she was afraid to move. No, she didn't want to move, and she was scared of that. She liked being close to him like this. But she shouldn't. She had to be professional. This was the lead singer of the band she was playing with. This was by far the most important job she had ever have, and she wasn't going to ruin it. She couldn't feel attracted to him or any other member of that band. Besides, they were all married! She even knew this guy's wife, and she was adorable.

- "No, Maria Josefina! This shit stops now!".

Joey moved slowly from Gerard's side and made her best to pretend she had just woken up, and not like she had been debating with herself for the last ten minutes or so.

- "Hey"- she whispered at Gerard, who calmly opened his eyes and scratched his head, looking half asleep and adorable at the same time- "Sorry I woke you up."

- "Don't worry, sorry I was leaning on you"

- "Sorry, I was leaning on you too"- she murmured and took a deep breath- "Do you mind? I need to go to the bathroom."

Gerard stared at her in a blank. If he moved, she was gonna see his boner.

- "Yeah, sure."

He slowly stood up (as well as the other unknown guy by the aisle) and did his best to cover himself with the jacket without being too obvious. It was a little worst when he felt Joey brushing her body next to him as he passed by her side. That added some friction that made him bite his lips.

- "Sorry"- she whispered softly, that didn't help either. Lucky for Gerard, she didn't notice a thing and walked away.

- "Dude put the gun down"- the guy in the aisle said, making fun of him. Way couldn't answer; he just sat down and tried to cool himself down.

- "What the fuck is your problem? What are you, fifteen? Put your shit together, you've been alone with him for like four hours, and already you are having a hormonal breakdown? Really?!"

Joey kept arguing with herself in the bathroom and looked at her reflex on the mirror.

-"And besides, you look like the shit!"- she tried to fix her makeup. She made a messy bun to keep her hair from falling on his face.

- "Ok, you are gonna go out there, and you are gonna be a professional grownup. You are gonna sit down and ignore that guy for the rest of the trip, did you hear me? Ok! Just do it!".

But no, it was impossible, she saw him from a distance, reading her book, and her stomach jumped. So she did what seemed to be the right thing to do: she sat next to Mikey and cut him a smile.

- "Hi stranger."

- "Hey gorgeous"- the girl frowned right away and sniffed him.

- "You are drunk"

- "You are smart"

- "Everything ok?"

- "Nop"

- "And you don't want to talk about it"

- "Nop"

- "Good…"

- "And why are you here?"

- "I've got the window seat over there, and I just went to the bathroom… and I didn't want to bother Gerard and the other guy in my way over."

Mikey turned to her, drunk as a skunk, and smiled.

- "Stop being so nice."

- "I can't turn it off…"- she made a pause and grabbed Mikey's plastic cup of whiskey- "Besides, I can be mean."

- "Bullshit"- he argued, laughing, and Joey drank what was left of the plastic glass in one shot, not moving a single facial muscle- "Wow, I'm scared. You drank my booze, rad!"- he answered sarcastically.

- "Oh, shut up, you are drunk."

- "Hey kids! What are you doing?"- Frank showed up and sat next to Joey, all happy and hyper.

- "Mikey is asking me not to be nice"- Joey answered and cut him a huge grin- "How is your flight?"

- "Bored. I saw a shitty movie, napped, and now I am hungry… wanna eat something?"

Joey thought about it for a moment and realized she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. And smiled lodged on her lips as she remembered Matthew had made her favorite breakfast.

- "Definitely"- and Frank's eyes lit up as he buzzed the air host button.

- "Great!"

- "And no more booze for you"- Joey warned Mikey, knowing he wanted to get more whiskey.

- "You are not my mom."

- "You are not my kid."

- "Stop it."

- "I am not nice."

- "Yes, you are, you are taking care of me,"- she took a deep breath and watched him smiling please, knowing he was right.

- "Fuck you! I'm not nice. I just don't want to carry you around covered in puke when we land."

- "You won't have to,"- he simply answered, slurred actually- "Frank will have to do it."

- "I won't"- he refuted shortly- "Ask Gerard, he is taller."

- "Right, you are tiny like a thirteen years old kid"- Joey chuckled, and Frank blushed, embarrassed that Mikey brought that up in front of her. Like she hadn't noticed.

- "Shut up!"- Iero was gonna punch Mikey's arm when the air host arrived, and he refocused on asking for food for the three of them. And booze for the three of them.

Gerard looked around and frowned. Joey was taking too long in the bathroom. Not that he cared, but maybe she didn't feel so good. Perhaps she was locked in there. Perhaps he didn't get the signs, and she was waiting for him to fuck in there and join the high mile club.

- "Stop that shit!! You are gonna have to spend months with this woman, and you are going to learn how to turn your dick off! If possible…".

After a few more minutes, Gerard convinced himself he wanted to go to the bathroom too and stood up. No, Joey didn't seem to be locked in any toilet. But where was she? It only took him a minute or two to hear her laughing along with Frank and Mikey. What the fuck?

- "Hey, what are you doing?"- Gerard asked as he stood next to Frank by the aisle and smiled. Joey's eyes were watering up as she kept laughing, trying to keep it down.

- "We are playing Who wants to be a millionaire,"- she explained and pointed at the screen in front of her seat.

- "Ok…"- he was going to ask what was so funny when he realized they were all drunk. Well, Mikey was wasted. Frank looked kind of drunk, and Joey… it was hard to say.

- "Well, keep it down, you don't want to disturb the rest of the passengers."

- "Sorry, dad"- Mikey answered, chuckling, and Joey bit her lips not to laugh so loud.

- "And stop drinking!"- Gerard commanded.

- "Yes, dad"- Mikey repeated, and Joey's face turned red from holding the laughter.

- "Stop it!"

- "Come on, man, relax. We are not doing anything,"- Frank tried to explain, but it was useless. He had been so into getting Joey's attention, and the girl knew they had been too loud.

- "No, dude, he is right. It's time to wrap up things here"- she grabbed her drink and stood up- "Come on, make room, let me pass."

- "Oh, come on! You don't have to go!"- Frank hated Gerard at that moment.

- "Mikey has to sleep, and we should notch down the noise for a while. Come on, let me pass"- Frank stood up, frowning.

- "Wanna go watch a movie with me?"- he asked Joey and pointed at his seat.

- "I don't think it's a good idea"- Gerard answered before Joey could actually say a word. And that was a huge turn-off for her. She hated when people took decisions for her, even the smallest, like that one.

- "You are gonna keep laughing and making noise."

- "Sorry, can't we have fun?"- Iero was taking shit too seriously all of a sudden, but lucky him, he was the only one who noticed it, and the air host saved his ass.

- "I'm gonna need you all to go back to your designated seats, please."

And that was it. Joey returned to her seat next to Gerard, and Frank grumbled all the way to his seat next to Ray, who was snoring.

- "Fuck you, Frank!! Stop being jealous! Seriously! This is not healthy!!"

- "Do you wanna watch a movie?"- Gerard asked a few minutes after they sat down and got comfortable on their chairs, stealing Frank's idea.

- "Sure"- Joey answered and regretted right away- "Wait, what had we agreed earlier today? Can you fucking listen to yourself for a second? Don't fuck up this job!"- she scratched her arm, nervous, feeling her whole body tense.

- "Great! What do you wanna watch?"

- "Horror"- she quickly answered- "Good, anything that can keep me occupied from thinking."

- "Cool, anything in particular."

- "Zombies"- Gerard turned to her and smiled so excited you could tell she had said all the correct answers.

- "Great, let's see what we've got."

The jetlag hit Joey hard when they reached London. It was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles time, and after that long, eternal, and challenging trip, having to deal with Gerard next to her, she needed to get some good rest. Besides, the first show was Saturday. She only had Friday to recover and get ready for the debut. And shit, she was freaking out.

- "God, kill me"- Mikey whispered as the van passed outside the hotel and had to turn around the corner. There were so many fans waiting for them out there, going out was suicidal. Joey wide opened her eyes and made her best not to show how shocked she was by the scene.

- "Hey"- Ray elbowed her and smiled- "Excited?"

- "Very"- she grinned and yawned- "And also exhausted."

- "Frank and I were thinking about asking for some room service and playing video games if you want to join us."

- "Sounds good. I just need to shower first."

- "Good, you shower! Can you teach Gerard how to do that, please?"- Frank joked, overhearing the conversation from the back seat- "Thank you for inviting her, Ray! Thank you, that you!!"- and god, he was excited, like a little kid.

- "Oh, come on! I shower now! Stop telling people I'm gross!"- Gerard argued and smacked Frank's head, joking.

- "You traumatized the band, and you have a stigma for being dirty and smelly, teen spirit,"- Mikey added with a deep, weary, hungover voice.

- "Shit! I need to catch up with a lot of info."

- "You are not really missing a lot"- James said next to her and yawned- "Gerard and Mikey didn't shower when they started touring; that's why they called Gee "Teen spirit." Frank used to hang shower camps at one side of the bus to shower after the show. Ray waited until the bus stopped by gas stations to use the shower there when it was available. He usually was left behind ‘cos everybody forgot about him. And that's the short version of touring with these guys. "

James explained as Joey chuckled.

- "Thank you, James. You are the best."

- "Oh, cut it"- Gerard threw his friend a scarf, and Joey laughed.

- "Ok, kids, and how are you planning to avoid all those fans waiting for you out there?"- Joey wondered as she kept looking outside the window as the group of teenagers reached the other side of the street.

- "The MCArmy is pretty cool"- Gerard explained as the girl turned around and raised an eyebrow, looking into his eyes, completely unconvinced.

- "I bet it can still get pretty scary to be out there with all those girls"

- "I mean it, they are not."

- "Yeah, sure. Then just get out this van and walk out there alone, without Worm"- Joey dared and their bodyguard, Worm, turned to him and shook his head no.

- "She is right, face it. You are never gonna make it"- the whole band made a pause after Worm delivered the line and chuckled. Joey didn't get the joke, but she said no word.

- "I really need to know more about this band, fuck!"

- "Don't worry, dude. We are gonna get through the back"- Worm announced, which seemed to be a good idea until they saw the back of the hotel and the way to the underground parking.

- "Oh shit!"- the words left Joey's lips- "Those are more girls that there were at the front… what the fuck?"

The drummer was clearly confused. She knew the band was big, but she hadn't evaluated precisely how big it was.

- "You are not a boy band when you are at a live show, right?"- she asked and turned to Ray smiling.

- "Yeah, we dance a lot. I'll teach you the choreography after dinner."

The van made its way through all the fans, and ten minutes later, each of the band and crew members was at their rooms. Frank lay on his bed and dialed his wife's number.

- "Hey baby"- he whispered with his eyes closed.

- "Hi honey, how was the flight?"

- "Long, eternal, I need to sleep a lifetime."

- "Me too, your daughters have been too spoiled, and neither of them is sleeping if I'm not holding them."

- "Shit."

- "I blame you for that."

- "Please don't…"

Frank chuckled and remembered all the afternoons he had spent holding both his daughters at the same time before he left for California to rehearsal for the tour.

- "I miss you so much"- and he wasn't lying at all. He loved his wife more than anyone.

- "We miss you too"

- "Is your mom still there with you?"

- "Yeah, I wouldn't have done any of this without her."

- "And Evan?"

- "He had a gig tonight, but he is coming to spend the weekend with us."

- "Awesome"

- "So, excited about this leg of the tour?"

- "To be honest, I'm kind of nervous."

- "Why?"

- "About the drummer and shit, we have press tomorrow, and I'm sure they are gonna start asking about it."

- "So?"

- "So I don't want to."

- "Don't make a fuzz out of something that hasn't happened yet"- Jamia made a pause as her husband stayed in silence staring at the ceiling too- "Besides, be honest, Gerard is going to answer all the questions"- Frank chuckled and sighed.

- "You are probably right"

- "I know I am, you know I am, deal with it."

Meanwhile, at the very same time, in his room, Gerard was talking with his wife too, and for some weird twist reason, he was having the exact same conversation.

- "I just don't want the whole tour to turn into "My chemical romance has a girl drummer" shit."

- "But it's an amazing thing to talk about!"- Lynz answered, frustrated her husband was still rambling about the same subject. It had been at least twenty minutes. It was probably his way to talk about her not being obvious. And pretending he hated the whole deal was his way to cope with the face he loved having Joey around.

- "I know it's gonna be fresh and exciting."

- "And inspirational to a bunch of girls out there"- that was probably the only thing that kept Lynz excited about Joey in the band. She didn't see her as a threat per se, but it was still a little weird for her.

- "Yeah, that's true… fans are gonna go nuts."

- "And media is gonna make up a lot of shit."

- "I hate that."

- "You do it for the music. That's what counts."

- "Yeah, I gotta love this shit to bear being apart from you so often,"- Lynz giggled at Gerard's words and sighed.

- "I know you love music more than you love me.2

- "That's not true."

- "I know… you love comics more than you love me,"- Gerard laughed and walked to the door, ‘cos someone was knocking.

- "You see through me"- Mikey walked in as soon as his brother opened and laid on the bed in silence- "Mikey just got here, I think we are gonna eat something and then sleep."

- "Go, I'm going to go out with Alicia today."

- "Really? that's cool, hey Mikey, the wives are going out together tonight,"- and Mikey frowned, surprised.

- "Cool"- that was all the excitement he could express.

- "Love you, babe, gotta go"- Gerard said goodbye to his wife and sighed as soon as he hung up the phone.

- "Everything ok?"- Mikey asked and kept changing the channels on the tv, not really watching anything.

- "Yeah, you?"

- "I'm hungry. Ray said he was asking for room service. Wanna go?"

- "Yeah, in a minute"- Gerard walked to the bathroom, and Mikey sighed, eyes glued to the television. That was the best way not to think. That and getting hammered, but he could do that later.

- "Hello"- Joey walked into Ray's room after she called her boyfriend, took a long, long shower, and put on clean clothes. Well, clean sweatpants and an old oversized Megadeth t-shirt. Basically, her pajamas.

- "Hey!!"- Ray's hair was dripping water as he opened the door and invited Joey in- "Sorry, I just stepped out of the shower."

- "Me too… and if we are gonna tour together, I figured you are gonna have to get used to seeing me in sweatpants"- Ray laughed and took a look at Joey up and down- "Sorry, not sorry."

- "Don't be. You look cute, in a nonsexual way"- he quickly explained and blushed.

- "Thank you… so? what are we eating?"

- "I don't know… what do you wanna eat?"

- "I'm so fucking hungry I need a double bacon burger with all the fries on this island… sorry, all the chips on this island."

- "Sounds good, make two of those,"- Joey sat on Ray's bed and watch him open his backpack.

- "What do you have there?"

- "Only the most important thing I carry around when we tour."

- "Guessing something related to… oh no, it's a PlayStation,"- Joey frowned and then chuckled as she saw Ray unpack his favorite console and plug into the television.

- "Since we are touring together, you should know this is something we can't live without."

- "Really?"

- "This is our life on the road."

- "Playing video games?"

- "Yeah… sorry if we are not that exciting."

- "Don't be sorry in front of a girl in sweatpants. Which games are you carrying?"- she moved closer and grabbed a few- "Call of Duty!! Cool!"

- "Do you play?"- Ray was excited, and you could tell.

- "It's Call of Duty. Who doesn't?"

- "Gerard"- Ray answered in less than a second.

- "Lame!"- the knocks on the door finished the conversation, and Joey walked over to answer. Frank held his breath, surprised to see there- "Hey! Do you play Black Ops?"

- "Ahh… yeah"- he doubted as he looked at her up and down- "You look…"

- "Like a mess? Yeah, get used to it"- he was gonna say cute, but she interrupted him at the right moment and walked back to Ray- "What else do you have there?"

Frank sat on the bed and stared at the scene. Ray kept showing Joey his video games, and she was really into it.

- "So do you play a lot?"- Frank ended up asking, and the girl grinned guiltily.

- "Maybe more than I should admit. When you live alone, and you don't have a job, there are too many hours to kill.

- "Been there"- Ray answered and chuckled

- "Then this tour is gonna be fun!"- Frank smiled and laid back on the bed as Joey sat next to him and tapped on his leg.

- "I am going to kick your Jersey ass."

- "Oh really? You better don't go all Icelandic on me when I make you eat the ground"- he made his best not to shiver at her touch and instead tickled her a little, which made her giggle, like a little girl.

- "I don't go all Icelandic, that's too cold and drunk"- she corrected him and tickled him as well- "I go all Latina, like mom."

Frank knew this was his chance to get a little closer to the girl, friendly closer, by the way. Well, that's what he kept telling himself.

- "Fine, then don't go all Latina on me when I kick your ass!"- he said and fully tickled her, hearing her laugh.

- "Fuck!! No!!"- she yelled, laughing- "You weren't supposed to find out about this weakness until way deep into the tour!!!"

Ray looked at them, frowning as he stood up and opened the door for Mikey and Gerard. He didn't say really a thing, just opened the door and walked back into the room.

- "Kids! Calm down! Or you won't have dinner"- Toro said and kneeled next to his suitcase, looking through his games for one he wanted to play. But neither Frank nor Joey paid attention and continued fighting over who could tickle the other. Gerard looked at them, deeply jealous, as Mikey nodded his head.

- "So… what are you doing?"- the youngest Way asked, staring at the obvious

- "We are…"- Joey made a pause and gave it a little thinking while Frank kept tickling her, enjoying a little too much the fact he could just touch her… in a friendly way- "Frank, what were we doing?"

- "You went all Latina all of a sudden."

- "Oh yeah, and you were all Jersey"- Frank had to stop ‘cos Joey stopped, but they kept pushing each other, and Ray continued telling them to stop like they were his kids.

- "And I told you I was going to kick your ass playing Call of Duty."

- "Right! That was why!"- Joey sort of shouted, and Frank burst out laughing- "Hey"- she smiled at Gerard and tried to look away.

- "Wanna play?"- Ray asked her, and she couldn't control her smile.

- "Always!!"

Gerard looked at her after she delivered that line. She sat with Ray on his bed holding a joystick, not paying half attention to him. Was that what made him act all jealous? The fact she paid attention to everyone else but him?

- "Just forget it, Gerard, eat your dinner and go to bed."

It was midnight, and Joey and Ray were still playing. Mikey was drunk and half-asleep on the bed, holding his phone tight. Frank was waiting for his turn to play, staring at the screen and laughing each time anyone would take a gunshot.

- "Ok, I'm going to bed"- Gerard said and stood up.

- "Ok, see you tomorrow!"- Ray said and never stopped playing, and neither did Joey.

- "Fuck you!!"- she yelled, and Toro laughed as the girl kept pushing him and making her best to force him to lose.

- "Don't be a bad loser!"

- "I am not a bad loser!!"- she argued right away and stood up to hand over Frankie the joystick, defeated again- "And you are a shitty winner, by the way!"

- "I'm leaving!"- Gerard repeated, and again, no one seemed to care.

- "Night night!"- Joey waved and turn around to look at the youngest Way- "Hey Mikey, are you ok?"

No, Mikey wasn't ok. He was laid on his back, tears slowly falling down his eyes, drunk as fuck.

- "Hey, Mikey, let's get you to bed, ok?"- he sighed and half-opened his eyes looking at Joey.

- "I don't want to."

- "Come on, you have an exciting day tomorrow. I got the schedule earlier, and you get to work for hours, and I am not doing shit!"- she joked, but Mikey didn't move- "Oh, come on… please, buddy?"

- "Is he ok?"- Gerard asked and walked over.

- "Drunk as fuck is the new ok,"- she answered as Gee shook Mikey's arm.

- "I'm alive"- he babbled and slowly sat down- "I'm ok, leave me alone."

- "You don't really look like you are ok"- Joey whispered and smiled at him- "Want me to show you my tits to cheer you up?"- Frank paused the game and turned to her.

- "Fuck yeah!! We could ask for that?"- Joey frowned and looked at him, annoyed.

- "I was joking"- she pronounced every letter in those words very slowly- "Just trying to make Mikey laugh."

- "Oh yeah"- Frank blushed and unpaused the game, turning to the screen- "I knew you were, I was just following the joke."

Joey nodded and turned to Mikey again. Meanwhile. Frank wanted to slap himself.

- "What the fuck is your problem!! That was so stupid! It was obvious she was joking, and now you made an ass of yourself! She is gonna think you are a pervert!!"

- "So, are you coming?"- Joey smiled at her friend, and he nodded- "Good, ‘cos I don't wanna smack you."

- "Do you need help?"- Frank paused the game again, and Ray almost growled.

- "No, I'm ok"- Mikey answered and stood up.

- "Come on, let's have a slumber party. We can do each other's nails"- Joey smiled, and Mikey smirked.

- "Braid my hair, sister"

- "And I'll curl your eyelashes"

Gerard watched in awe how his brother just followed Joey's commands like a little boy. He just went to bed when she asked him to. He laughed when she made the jokes. Was he crushed on her too?

- "Good night, kiddos"- Joey smiled and waved at Ray and Frank- "I had a blast with you tonight."

- "Goodnight, loser!!"- Ray teased her, and the girl stuck out her tongue at him.

- "Tomorrow, I want my revenge!"

- "Whenever you want to lose, I am here,"- he chuckled, and she pretended to be mad. The truth was, she had a great time with Ray, and she was glad he was so warm and friendly with her from day one.

- "Hey, Iceland"- Frank stood up and walked quickly over her- "That shit about your tits, I was joking."

- "I know, Jersey. Calm down"- she beamed and pushed his arm- "You are a good kid."

- "Thanks, goodnight"- he whispered and walked back to Ray's bed- "If only you knew…".

Gerard opened the bedroom door and waited for Joey and his brother to walk out to close it behind his back.

- "Where to?"- she asked, and Mikey pointed to the elevator. The three of them walked in silence, the door closed, and the youngest Way slowly raised his hand and pushed "15".

- "Please don't puke in the elevator"- Gerard teased him, and Mikey whispered

- "Like you never did that kind of shit back in your days,"- the silence hung amongst them until the door opened, and they strolled out.

- "Good neighbor, you are just four rooms down from my cave"- Joey joked as Mikey slowly and clumsily tried to open his door, but Gerard ended up grabbing his card and doing it for him when it was apparent he wasn't in the condition of doing it by himself.

- "Ok, Mikey. There you go"- Gerard helped his brother to bed as Joey took out his shoes and moved the pillows for him.

- "I don't want your help"- the drunk Way said, but Joey messed with his hair and smiled, trying to cheer him up.

- "I am not helping you. You asked me to stop being nice,"- Gerard frowned, not getting the conversation, but apparently, there were so many things Ray and Mikey could talk about with her he had no idea about. He should give up trying to catch up.

- "This is me making sure you owe me big time, and I am going to call in a huge favor as soon as I get drunk, and you are gonna have to take care of me,"- Mikey smiled and closed his eyes.

- "Ok, Bug"- the drunk boy closed his eyes and sighed- "I'm gonna start calling you "Bug" now because you can be fucking annoying!"

- "Oh really?"- Joey giggled and stood next to Mikey's bed with Gerard- "I'm gonna have to find a nickname for you then."

- "Your job for tomorrow"- the drunk guy whispered and sighed.

- "Goodnight, Mikey"- Gerard said and watched how his brother fell asleep in less than a minute. He and Joey walked slowly to the door and left Mikey alone.

- "Thank you for taking care of him,"- Gerard whispered as they walked down the hall to Joey's door.

- "Don't thank me for that. I consider him my friend already, and friends take care of each other."

The girl kept looking down at her shoes as they walked, decided not to land her eyes on his, not even for a second. God knows what could happen.

- "He seems to be going through a rough patch lately"

- "He hasn't told you anything about it?"- Joey asked surprised.

- "No"- Gerard shook his head and thought very carefully before he asked- "Has he told you… anything about what's going on with him?"

Joey didn't hesitate for a second and answered no.

- "It just seems he trusts you with his problems. That's all."- Gerard added.

- "We talk about random shit"- she quickly explained- "Maybe he just needs to ease his mind from whatever it is that is happening to him, at least for a bit."

The two of them stayed quiet, standing right in front of each other. Gerard was dying to hold her face with both hands and kiss her. They were alone for the first time ever. Ever. He has made his best for this not to occur before; the plane trip at least was shared with a hundred other people at the same place. Now it was just the two of them all alone standing in the hall.

- "What are your plans for tomorrow?"- Gerard whispered and raised his eyes to look at her.

- "Gym in the morning, practice in the afternoon"- Joey said and kept looking at her hands.

- "Where are you gonna practice?"

- "Here, in my room. I brought my electric drum ‘cos Brian said I could install it somewhere around the bus."

Gerard kept his eyes locked on her, and she could feel it as she continued talking.

- "I hope it's not an inconvenience, I'm just nervous. I feel like I need to practice another 100 hours to play the show you deserve."

- "No, of course, it's no problem"- he answered and slowly reached out his hand to clumsily place it on her shoulder- "And stop doubting yourself. You are an amazing drummer."

Joey couldn't help it and shivered as she felt Gerard's touch, raising her eyes to meet his.

- "Thank you"- she whispered, and time stopped as they stared at each other. It felt so natural to lean over. It was like their bodies were longing for proximity. But both of them knew they couldn't do anything like so.

- "Ok Joey, breath, act like a normal person and walk away from this temptation"- she sighed and smiled- "That would be a killer nickname" Well, see you tomorrow Gerard, have fun doing a million interviews.

- "Have fun at the gym- he smiled and watched her opening the door and walking into her room."

- "Good night"- she whispered and slowly closed the door.

- "Ok, that was good. You controlled yourself, Gerard. I'm proud… now walk away and get into your room."

Joey laid on her bed and closed the laptop, after a long video call with Matthew. Tears fell from her eyes slowly. She was nervous, excited, and most of all, she was sad her boyfriend wouldn't be there with her at her first show.

- "You have no idea how proud I am, Yami"- he had said, as the two of them cried.

- "I wish you were here with me, Akumu."

She had never been away from him in six months. Once for a weekend, but not a whole month. She missed him already. Watching his face on the screen didn't make it easy. If anything, it felt like it made it worse. She was in love with him, honestly in love. She had a couple of shitty experiences with her previous boyfriends, and Matthew was the first man who treated her with respect. It was sad for her to be so moved about something that could be the base of a relationship.

Besides, she wasn't just nervous about being away from her boyfriend. She also had second thoughts about her abilities. Maybe she really wasn't going to be able to do it right. She could be petrified in front of the audience. It would be easier if Matthew were there with her. But he wasn't, and she had to start dealing with this fear on her own.

She could still feel Gerard's hand on her shoulder, telling her she was going to do great. It burned her skin like the remainder of his warm touch.

- "Fucking temptation"- she whispered and rolled in bed to turn out the lights- "Gerard is so hot I could do something very foolish if I were single... and if he was single too, of course."

taglist @all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

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#my chemical romance #matthew gray gubler #danger days #mikey way #ray toro #frank iero #my chem #babymetaldoll writes #mcr #mgg #mcr fanfic #mgg fanfic

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 4 years ago

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here’s 5.7k of the unsinkable 8 during the zombie apocalypse. good for fans of leatin and goodfoe. it’s super unedited and i’m mainly just posting it for fun cause i finished it today. some references to world war z the book for fun, and i used the zombies from that too.

A flash of blonde and Dot’s gun went up, pointed directly at the head of whatever made their way toward her. She had two bullets left, six cigarettes, and the last mini of hard liquor she raided from the motel back in Aquilla.

She’d have to get it in one shot, which would be hard sitting down, with her back to it, half delirious.

She grunted as she pulled herself around, her leg still out in the makeshift splint. The zed crept closer, not going at the usual hobbling pace. It definitely had caught her scent though, maybe it was down a few limbs already.

She cocked her gun, flicking off the safety, keeping her finger off the trigger. She’d wait until she could see the whites of its eyes. Get it in one shot.

The blonde head crept closer and she finally tucked her gun over the rocks, making eye contact with it for the first time.

“Shelby Goodkind?”

“Dot Campbell?”

Shelby stared at her, lowering her own gun and Dot let out a breath of relief.

“Dottie, oh my god, I thought you were one of ‘em.” She put away her gun, Dot doing the same and she ran over. “It’s so good to see ya, what’s wrong?” She looked at the leg, her face paling.

“Ankles broken,” Dottie muttered. “Was gonna treat myself to one last drink,” she gestured at the bottle.

“Oh lord,” Shelby said. “Well that’s no good, I got a place not to far from here I’ve been camping out in. Some first aid stuff too.”

“I can’t give you anything back for it,” Dot said.

“We both know two people are more likely to make it,” Shelby said.

She looked sunburned and hollowed out, a little hungrier than the last time Dot saw her, headed with her family to that military base. She was alone, and desperate, everyone was. Because here was how it went in Texas. You could trust a stranger as far as you could throw ‘em, but you needed people to live. So if you had people, you lived. And Dot was people, or as close to people as Shelby was willing to get. She musta lost a lot to lower her standards so far.

“Alright,” Dot said. “We’re gonna have to go slow and you’re gonna have to carry a lot of shit.”

“No problem,” Shelby beamed.

Back at the camp, an old rusting trailer with some battery Shelby told her she was saving for a rainy day, Shelby re-splinted her, fed and watered her, and they pooled their resources. Twenty-six cigs now, which might get ‘em a few hours in a safe car north, if they wanted it. Or it might get ‘em some food, or a get out of jail free card, depending on the hunger of the people hunting ‘em.

It was late at night when Dot realized she hadn’t even asked yet.

“Family’s gone then?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said. “You?”

“My dad died before this shit show,” Dot said.

“Lucky,” Shelby said. She took a swig from the mini, and passed it over to Dot. “What’s your plan?”

“I heard there was a safer spot near San Antonio,” Dot said. “Running water and shit.”

Shelby shook her head, “Gone, three weeks ago. Heard it on the radio.”

Dot nodded, “What about you?”

“Radio said Hawaii’s better,” Shelby said. “There’s an operation ferrying people there on the west coast. It’s a thousand cigs per person. But there’s work by the dock if you’re willing to do it.”

“Work for you?” Dot asked.

Shelby’s jaw tightened, “I’ll do what I have to do. Lord forgive me.”

Dot sighed, “Sounds like we go west then.”

They hung around in the trailer for three days, pushing the limits of what was safe, and stumbled on to a new place in the area at daybreak on the fourth day. Dot’s ankle wasn’t broken, with the inflatable cast Shelby had in a week or so she’d be something regarding useful, and as long as she didn’t push herself she’d be more than fine.

Spending time with Shelby Goodkind was another story. For one thing, despite the zombie apocalypse, complete destruction of their lives and modern society, the death of her family and everyone in their town, Shelby was still good and kind. She’d clutch at the cross around her neck every time they’d pass a body, and would never touch one, even the ones that were recent and obviously not stripped clean. It made Dot kinda mad, she found five cigs just walking, and she wondered how many Shelby passed off being squeamish.

But Shelby also wasn’t squeamish, wasn’t afraid to take down a zed with a kitchen knife, and with that same hand wipe the gore off Dot all gentle. She called her Dottie, gave her the last blanket, and always volunteered for the first shift so Dot could watch the sunrise. Dot hadn’t been cared for in a long while, hadn’t been around people in even longer. She decided she might love it.

But Shelby was a magnet, always had been, she talked about god’s light long enough that she got Dot believing it all fell on her. It wasn’t a real surprise when she showed up with a stray.

“What the fuck,” Dot said. “Did you kidnap a child?”

“I did not kidnap a child,” Shelby said, picking the girl up with some difficulty and lifting her onto the backseat of the broken down minivan they were holed up in.

“I sent you out to get sunscreen,” Dot said. “How did you come back with a child?”

“She’s our age,” Shelby said. “I think. And listen, I found her barricaded in a utility closet with a bad fever, I knew we had some tablets but I didn’t wanna leave her.”

“Like bite fever?” Dot asked. “We don’t have enough bullets to—”

“No,” Shelby shook her head, “Look,” she gently unwrapped a bandage around the girl’s arm, revealing a bad slice. “It’s infected. Not a bite. We’re okay.”

Dot sighed and nodded. The girl’d probably try and rob ‘em blind but if they watched her hands and got away fast enough they should be fine. They’d be fine.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Dot muttered. Shelby smiled, all sweet and gentle and bright and Dot rolled her eyes.

The girl took the tablets, they washed and changed the bandages, after about fourteen hours she blinked awake, unfortunately while Dot was on watch.

“Who—who are you?”

“Dot Campbell,” she said.

The girl stared at her.

“My friend saved your ass,” Dot said. “Shelby.”

“Um,” the girl inched back, “Why? Where am I?”

“We’re on the twenty-two, not from from the ten-eighty,” Dot told her. “You got a nasty infection there, got any cigs?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

Dot blinked at her. “Alright then.”

“My friends will be looking for me,” the girl said. “I should get back to them.” She didn’t have an accent, Dot realized, not even a thin one like her own.

“Shelby found you around Mr. K’s, we can draw you a map if you’d like,” Dot said. “Where you from?”

“Austin,” the girl lied, badly.

“Alright then,” Dot said again. “Well we’ll draw you a map in the mornin and you can leave a day break. It ain’t far.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. “For helping me.”

“Shelby’s idea,” Dot said. Neither of ‘em slept the whole time, the girl smart enough to keep an eye out, and Dot’s whole job to watch out. She woke Shelby up when she was supposed to and easily muddled into a slumber.

A nice thing, about the zombie apocalypse, was Dot had gotten a lot better at sleeping. She used to stay up for hours thinking ‘bout how she’d pay the bills, how much her dad’s meds cost, whether he was coughing more that night than he did most nights, but now she hit whatever soft looking rock she decided to call a pillow and conked out until Shelby woke her. Shelby, on the other hand, barely slept a wink, shooting up at the slightest sign of trouble, even when Dot was on watch. Too much time on her own, Dot’d guess.

Before Shelby Mateo wandered with Dot. He was quiet and sweet and she had took care of him as best she could. Shelby didn’t have nobody before Dot. Just her dead parents, and if Dot remembered eighth grade soccer well enough, a couple of dead siblings too.

So Dot pretty much conked out and missed the way the girl and Shelby giggled all night. But even she wasn’t blind to their bond when she woke, the way the girls smiled easily at one another, laughed with each other, kept up with each other.

“Dottie,” Shelby said. “Martha,” so that was the stranger’s name “said you told her we could draw her a map but Mr. K’s ain’t far, we might as well take her.”

Dot grunted, she didn’t wanna waste a day but it wasn’t like Mr. K’s would take all day and they might as well see if they could find any more cigs. She hadn’t met any non-smokers in a long while. Apocalypse sorta took the fun out of being straight-edge, if Dot had to guess.

Dot took the back, a metal bat out and ready, and Shelby and Martha took the front. Shelby had a makeshift spear made, good for longer range, but worse up close, and she gave Martha the other bat they had. To borrow, Dot had emphasized.

One of the other things that never got old about the apocalypse, was walking up a highway. Walking straight up that middle line, knowing no one would dare drive a car ‘round there. It felt like the world was yours and empty, like you were finding it, rebuilding it, building it. It was as close to a cowboy as she had felt since her daddy let her ride on his back. It was as close to free as she had ever felt.

They got back to Mr. K’s and Dot saw the approaching figures first, aiming her rifle right at ‘em, safety off and gun cocked, but her finger off the trigger. It was Shelby’s hunting rifle, actually, but she had handed it to Dot first chance she had, looking kinda pale. She had Dot’s old handgun now, useless with this kinda range.

“Live ones?” Shelby asked.

“Can’t tell,” Dot said. “Just kinda standing there.”

“They could be waiting for me,” Martha said. Dot glanced at her, hoping the girl wasn’t actually as naive as she seemed. She probably was.

They walked as close as they dared, before Martha was able to confirm that yes it was her friends.

She ran at ‘em and one of ‘em collided with her, slamming her into a hug. There were two more, just kinda watching Dot and Shelby.

“We should go,” Dot said. “We did what we said.”

“Dottie,” Shelby said.

Dot sighed and the two of ‘em trudged up to the happy pair, reuniting like they had been separated for years, decades, instead of a few hours. It was a miracle they were reunited at all, Mateo said he’d meet her back at the camp in an hour and she had to bash his head in six months later with a sledge hammer.

“Who’re your friends, Martha?” One of the other people asked. It was four girls counting Martha, lucky, none of ‘em white, but they all looked around the same age as Dot and Shelby.

“This is Shelby,” Martha grinned, “And Dot.”

Dot nodded at them.

“I am just so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Shelby smiled, holding out her hand to the girl who still had an arm wrapped around Martha.

“This is Toni,” Martha said, squeezing the girl’s side when she didn’t take Shelby’s hand. “And Rachel and Nora.”

“Ah,” Shelby smiled, “Toni your sister right?”

Martha nodded, Toni glared. “Yeah it’s great to meet you or whatever. There a reason you kidnapped Martha?”

“I saw her passed out and worried she was alone,” Shelby explained. “I knew we had some tablets back at the camp but—”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked. “We got about six hundred if that’s—” Martha from Austin, Dot’s ass. Money hadn’t meant shit in Texas for awhile. These kids were from up north, probably pretty far up north too. Maine or some shit. Delaware.

“Got any cigs?” Dot asked.

“Yes,” Nora said. “We have a couple packs.”

“Great,” Dot held out her hands and two packs were dropped into them. Nora didn’t make eye contact the entire time, her hands fidgeting with anything. She was covered in scabs and scars, picking at her own skin probably.

“Where y’all headed?” Shelby asked.

“None of your business,” Toni said.

“Apparently the San Antonio Zone relocated to Tyler,” Martha said. “We heard some people talking about it last week.”

“Y’all got a radio?” Dot asked.

Martha shook her head.

“If you had one you’d know that that’s what they’re pulling now, telling people to go to Tyler, they shoot you as soon as you step foot in Athens.”

“So where are you guys headed?” Rachel demanded.

“West,” Shelby said. “Radio says they’re ferrying clean folks to Hawaii. It’s an island so.”

“Clean how?” Rachel asked, taking a step forward and lifting her jaw.

Dot sighed.

Shelby’s eyes widened, “Clean as in not infected, I mean.”

“Chill,” Rachel smiled, all thin, “I was kidding.”

“Great,” Dot said. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but we should be going.”

“Wait,” Martha said. “It’s just, we might as well go west too. And we might as well go west together.”

“Marty,” Toni grabbed her by her uninjured arm, “I wanna talk to you for a moment.”

They got into a whispered argument for a few minutes. Rachel joined and it escalated but Martha came out on top, smiling as she approached them.

“We might as well go together,” she repeated.

Shelby’s smile was just as wide, “We would be alighted to have you.”

The new girls were a nightmare. Rachel and Nora, sisters as Dot would learn, hated one another. And by hated Dot meant, had a complicated relationship of love without trust or mutual respect. Nora didn’t trust Rachel, Rachel didn’t respect Nora, and they were constantly going at one another. Toni had some sorta toxic jealousy thing going on, despising Shelby because she was monopolizing Martha. She also tended to fly into these rages, making her wander off for long periods that had Dot itching to grab her gun and demanding the girl strip to check for bites. Mateo’s dad used to do the same thing, wander off to check his bite.

Shelby also was wholly focused on two things now: Martha, and Toni’s hate. Dot ambled along behind all of ‘em, keeping the sisters from killing each other, Toni’s voice down, and everyone else alive.

The worst part was it took Dot nearly three days before she caught sight of it.

“You have one hand,” Dot glared at Rachel. Rachel slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You’re just noticing that now?” Rachel asked. “I must be getting better with it.”

“The fuck happened?” Dot said.

“My hand got bit,” Rachel shrugged. “Cut it off before it spread, didn’t even know it would work.”

Dot whistled, low and quiet, like they were all used to being.

“I cut it off,” Nora corrected, sullenly.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I’m still quicker on the draw than you,” Rachel said, the words clunky in her mouth.

Dot set her jaw, “So y’all are sticking with the story that you’re from Austin?”

“We’re from New York,” Nora said. Rachel glared at her. “What? You think some group would waste three days on four teenage girls?”

“New York?” Dot asked. “Everyone knows it’s safer up north, why the hell are you down here?”

“You hear about Yonkers?” Rachel asked.

Dot shook her head.

“It was the last op the US military set up before they fell apart. We’d made it out by then but we watched it happen on the news. Someone in a group we had still had a phone and the whole thing was live streamed. All of the death. The group were supposed to go to some military bases up in Canada but we wanted a wide open space with plenty of guns.”

“Texas,” Dot said.

Rachel nodded.

“Stupid,” Dot told her. “You probably came for San Antonio too.”

Rachel sighed, “Nobody was gonna survive those Canadian winters without a base, and we weren’t sure we were gonna get one. Rather get bit than freeze.”

“How’d you meet Toni and Martha?” Dot asked.

“Toni and I got into a fistfight over some Takis,” Rachel said.

Dot nodded, “Fuego?”

“Fuego.”

And yeah they were a nightmare but quicker than Dot wanted they became her nightmare. Still though, she dragged Shelby away from Martha and Toni’s sides, and muttered, “we can still go. Ditch if you want. Whenever. We don’t know ‘em.”

Shelby, in high school, woulda been scandalized, muttered some bible passage at her. This Shelby was a little more grown and only looked at her all serious.

“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” she said. “And I knew what Martha was. We’ll face our consequences, I reckon.”

Dot nodded.

Walking all day, everyday, wasn’t easy stuff. Especially since they had to strip as many bodies as they could find. Nora figured it out pretty quick, mumbling something to Rachel who recruited Toni to storm over to Dot.

“You don’t smoke them, but you’re hoarding them,” Rachel said. “Why?”

Dot kept her easy pace. “These things are currency now, the value’ll only go up over time.”

“Currency for what?” Toni asked. “What are you trying to buy?”

“You think a ferry to Hawaii is free?” Dot asked. “I’m saving for all of us.”

“Dottie,” Shelby walked over, Martha sticking by Nora, “What’s up?”

“How much?” Toni asked. “Really, how much?”

“A hundred each,” Dot said, too quickly.

“Try again,” Rachel said.

“Dot,” Shelby got between them, looking at Dot. “Thou shalt not lie, right? Tell ‘em the truth.” Dot glared at her and Shelby turned back around to Rachel. “It’s five hundred each. We got about a hundred now, so no one’s going to Hawaii.”

“What if there aren’t enough?” Toni asked. “Who decides then?”

“We’ll draw straws,” Shelby said.

It was as easy a solution as anything but the tenseness started building up, Rachel and Toni viewing Dot with more suspicion. It’d fade, over time, Dot knew. Or they’d all die.

The worst it got, was actually Shelby’s doing, the easy peace maker of it all. They hadn’t bothered building a fire, despite how cold and exposed it got in Texas at night, but they huddled together between three cars they found abandoned along the highway that they pushed into a triangle. Someone got to the seat cushions of all three first, so there was nothing comfortable to lie their heads on. It was easy for Dot though, the asphalt as soft as anything to her now.

They stayed up later than they should’ve talking. Trading stories about their old life that all of them knew weren’t doing any good. Toni played basketball, was pretty good at it too. Rachel had a skill for swimming she’d never have again. Nora did quiz bowl, surprising no one. Dot talked about metal, fishing with her dad, what types of pills sold for what. Martha was a dancer, and a vegetarian once. It was something that made ‘em all crack up. When humans become man eating beasts, and once upon a time there were jokes online about vegans. Shelby talked about the yearbook, mission trips, Andrew.

But then cause Shelby started it by prattling on about Andrew Toni got it in her head to talk about Regan and Shelby was talking about Leviticus.

The next morning, Rachel quietly pulled Dot aside and told her to take all the cigarettes and head out. That they could make their own way west. Dot didn’t ask for an invitation to go with her.

They split off at the twenty-five, Dot and Shelby heading for the forty, Toni, Martha, Rachel, and Nora heading for the sixty.

Shelby was heartbroken for a few days, apologetic too, and grateful. Dot didn’t let her have any of that, only said, “It’s cause we’re from the same town. We might be the only ones from there left.”

They trudged on.

In Arizona Dot found the love of her life, her soulmate, Fatin Jadmani. In a completely straight way too. Fatin matched her tit for tat, spoke a language Dot hadn’t realized she’d been born knowing. Her girlfriend was an anxious woman named Leah, who Shelby got on with. Dot had worried, upon bringing the two back to camp, that Shelby would chase ‘em away again, but she hadn’t. Just smiled at the two of them, easily offering up a couple granola bars.

Whenever tenseness came about Fatin just laughed, and Leah rolled her eyes. It wasn’t perfect, Dot knew, there was too much hate for that, but it would last ‘em long enough. The four of ‘em just worked in this great lovely way.

Only problem was their destination.

“We barely managed to get out of LA,” Leah mumbled, she hugged her legs, her head leaning on Fatin’s shoulder.

“LA?” Shelby asked. “That’s where we’re headed.”

“What the fuck?” Fatin glared at Dot, “Dorthy I thought you had more sense than that.”

“There’s some military guys ferrying people to Hawaii,” Dot said.

“Where’d you hear that, the radio?” Fatin asked. She sighed at their nods, “They’re broadcasting out to whoever will hear it, but there is no ferry to Hawaii. The entire thing is just selling and shipping as many girls out as possible. We have no idea where though.”

“So when you say you barely made it out,” Dot said.

Fatin’s face was grim.

“We have to warn ‘em,” Shelby said.

“Warn who?” Dot asked.

“Toni and the others! They don’t know!” Shelby stood up. “I’ll plot out the course now and we’ll start out fresh tomorrow. We aren’t leaving ‘em to—to—we aren’t leaving ‘em.” She stormed off and Dot watched her go.

“She wants to go towards LA to help some motherfuckers who kicked you out of their group?” Fatin asked.

“Yeah,” Dot said.

“Are you gonna go with her?” Leah asked.

“I knew what she was when I picked her up,” Dot said.

“What do you wanna do?” Leah asked Fatin.

Fatin pressed her cheek to Leah’s head, “I don’t know if I can risk you.” Fatin looked at Dot, “Are you gonna be stupid?”

“No,” Dot said.

“Then we’ll come,” Fatin sighed. “Leah that okay?” Leah nodded.

Neither of ‘em were as good at offing zed as Shelby and Dot. Fatin was decent at finding stuff though, scoping stuff, and Leah had endurance none of the rest of ‘em could match. She was like a zed sometimes, just kept going, could keep going, until her knees wore down to dust and then she’d crawl, crawl until her fingers wore down to nubs and then she’d inch, inch until something put her out of her misery. It terrified Fatin and Shelby, but Dot couldn’t help being impressed.

So Dot ambled after Shelby toward Bethlehem on the forty but they were gonna leap back on the interstate and hopefully head ‘em off. Hopefully Martha, Toni, Rachel, and Nora’d be alive, and they’d find ‘em. And if they didn’t find ‘em, hopefully they’d be dead. And Shelby stopped sleeping about a day or two into trek. Would just keep staring at the maps and keeping watch, and taking inventory and thumbing around her necklace.

When Dot woke up on the third day of their walk, Shelby’s hair was much shorter and Fatin looked real scared. Shelby kept walking and walking and, in a fit of rage that matched Toni’s, launched her necklace off the highway. She looked like she regretted it after but they had no choice but to keep going.

They passed an arm and it looked like Rachel’s.

Shelby walked faster. Leah had that glint in her eye. Fatin took Dot’s hand and looked very very scared.

After two more days Shelby said fuck it, and found a car with some gas in it and told 'em to get in.

Dot stood in front, “Shelby,” Shelby glared at her, “This’ll attract every body in the fucking country. The sound, the smell, I’m not just talking about the dead ones neither.”

Shelby swallowed hard, “You gonna stay behind then?”

“Shelby,” Dot said. “If you leave me here I’ll get caught up in the hoard. That what you want?”

“Get in the damn car, Dottie!” Shelby said.

“If we get to ‘em in time, but there’s a fucking hoard following us, we won’t have anywhere to go but on,” Dot said. “Fucking think!”

“I am thinking,” Shelby spat back. She shoved Dot, “I’m thinking about Toni, and Martha walking from Minnesota to Texas only to die in California. I’m thinking about Nora and Rachel watching Yonkers fall and then getting shipped off to who knows where. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Shelby we can make it,” Leah said.

“No we can’t!” Shelby said. “I’ve done the math, I keep looking at these maps, there’s no way we’ll make it in time without a mode of transportation. No car and they die.”

“Then what the fuck are we going there?” Dot asked. “If it’s too late—”

“It is not too late!” Shelby said, her throat was all closed and choked sounding. “I can save ‘em! Jesus fuckin Christ we have to help ‘em!”

“Shelby,” Dot said, she put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t take a car, and we can’t make it by foot,” Shelby’s face crumpled. “They’re gone, alright? We should be planning our next move.”

“No,” Leah said. She shook her head, “We have to help them.”

“You don’t even know ‘em,” Dot said.

“I’m not letting four innocent girls go through what I nearly went through,” Leah said.

“I’m with Leah,” Fatin said. “We’ll take the car and play it by ear.”

“Play the-hoard-that-will-start-coming-after-us-the-second-we-turn-on-the-engine by ear?” Dot asked.

“Let’s vote,” Shelby said. “All in favor of going?”

Fatin, Leah, and Shelby all raised their hands.

“C’mon,” Dot begged. She looked at Fatin, “You told me not to be stupid!”

“So don’t be stupid,” Fatin said. “Get in the car.”

Dot sighed, wanted to punch something, wanted to cry, was too tired to do either, got in the car.

The car attracted so many fucking zed, they wouldn’t be able to stop, and they had to hope there was enough in the fucking tank to get them to wherever the four were. Dot watched the dead bodies creep closer, at their slow hobbling, relentless pace. Fatin drove, Shelby used her pike to spear any who got too close, Dot watched the maps and steadily got herself into a panic.

They were gonna die trying to save the asses of some girls they spent a couple days with.

This was not what Shelby was when Dot picked her up, this was not what she was. Shelby had gone behind Dot’s back and fucking grown as a person, hadn’t she? How the fuck was Dot gonna get away from her? She’d have to pack Fatin in a suitcase and then Leah too and that would mean entirely abandoning Shelby to be on her lonesome oh god.

Dot was stuck, wasn’t she.

As they kept driving Shelby had to keep spearing zed. It started off as one or two, but as the hours wore on they were leaning on five, six, a steady growing mass ambling behind ‘em.

If that had really been Rachel’s arm, they were probably dead. All of ‘em. Or maybe in the mass behind ‘em. And if they weren’t, they’d hear the car coming and head for the hills, assuming it meant a hoard was close behind. Which it was.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.

“So what, we just wait for a sign to say welcome to LA and then give up? We won’t find ‘em like this,” Dot said.

“Shut up!” Shelby said, she speared another.

“At least check you ain’t offing one of ours,” Dot said. “They could all be zed, for all we know.”

“I said shut up,” Shelby turned to glare at her and a zed slammed against the door. She speared it and Dot’s mouth clamped shut. “We just gotta keep going,” she said. “We’ll be fine, we just gotta keep moving.”

“You’re crazy,” Dot said.

Shelby didn’t have anything to say to that.

It was worse at nightfall, with visibility down, and they just had to keep going, to hope their car wasn’t stripped when they went over the bumps of mutilated corpses still hungry for a last meal.

“We’re almost to LA,” Shelby said. “We got nearly a hundred cigs, we might be able to bribe someone if they jump us.”

Leah snorted.

They were driving through an empty enough part of Nevada though, less corpses hurling themselves off the road and towards them. Still the ever growing mass behind ‘em now, maybe fifty, seventy five, but about twenty out.

“I gotta piss,” Dot said.

“Hurry,” Fatin said.

Dot stumbled out, no one noticing her grabbing her pack. The zed would follow the car, she’d make a clean break. She’d survive.

She was only seven minutes south, judging by the north star Shelby taught her to find when someone’s hand grabbed her. She pulled out her hand gun, jamming it into the head and flicking the safety off.

“Dot! Jesus Christ!”

The girl was wide-eyed, tan, hollowed out, empty and desperate. Reminded her of the empty pill bottles around her house after her dad died.

“Toni?”

Toni nodded, “Why are you here? Fuck that I don’t give a shit, you got water?” Dot handed it to her and Toni downed it. “The other’s are close, c’mon.” She stumbled as she got up, clearly dizzy, and Dot grabbed her forearm.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” Dot said.

“Don’t tell me it’s you in the fucking car,” Toni said. “We’ve been running from that thing for ages.”

“I fucking told Shelby,” Dot said.

“Shelby?” Toni asked, she was almost too exhausted to sound disgusted, but she managed it.

“Listen, LA isn’t safe, we found out. They’re not taking kids to Hawaii, they’re taking them.”

Toni went pale, “Fuck.” She even sounded choked now. “Shelby’s having a fucking aneurysm worrying about you so I don’t even think she’s that fucking homophobic. I’ll get everyone back to the car, you tell ‘em I’m coming.”

Toni nodded, stumbling towards the street and Dot walked back to the direction Toni pointed to before she left. Rachel, Nora, and Martha were all in various points of disarray. Exhausted, dehydrated, starving, aching and bleeding. Dot had to half carry, half drag Nora with Martha and Rachel had to get a stick to lean on as they stumbled toward the street.

“We got like ten minutes,” Fatin said. “People are gonna have to double buckle, and before anyone else makes a decision, we’re going north.”

Dot strapped everyone in and found herself sitting next to Shelby who met her eyes in a hundred yard stare.

“You took your pack.”

“Yeah.”

“But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

They started on again. Dot saw Toni keep sneaking glances at Shelby and Shelby kept sneaking ‘em back.

They weren’t far from Mt. Tobin when the two finally stopped dancing around each other.

Dot convinced everyone to ditch the car near LA, walking as quickly as they could once they did, knowing it’d take awhile to ditch the hoard too. Dot watched Toni talk to Shelby in low tones, Shelby full of apologies and panics and Toni keeping her cool longer than Dot had ever seen it.

Martha took to Fatin quickly, everyone did, and Nora and Leah spent long hours walking beside each other mumbling about books or something. Not anything Dot gave two shits about.

Rachel ambled along with Dot most of the time. Whenever Fatin and Leah were all over each other and Dot didn’t feel like third wheeling. Rachel was always listening to the radio and as time passed it became clear that the two of them were the most capable of keeping everyone alive. And not in a more knowledgable way. Because Nora knew what plants were edible, and Shelby was a better shot. Or in an emotional way, because Fatin and Martha handled that. But in a planning sorta way. Because Dot knew how to get them to point B, while Rachel was working on point E.

“We should go to Washington,” Rachel muttered on one of the late nights they spent keeping watch while they poured over maps. “We might be able to find a boat to Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Rachel pointed her out.

“It’s a Canadian island. Canada lasted a little longer than we did, Victoria might not be in such a bad way.”

“Less guns in Canada,” Dot said. “And there might not be a boat that’ll take us there. Plus, we don’t know the currency.”

“We’re eight teenage girls,” Rachel pointed out. “We stick around so close to Cali, we’re asking for trouble. We need to put an ocean between us and whatever the fuck they’re doing there.”

Dot sighed. So they’d go to Washington.

On the way they’d probably run into another group who’d tell them Washington was overrun but there was something decent in Wisconsin. Half way to Wisconsin someone would tell ‘em their information was bad and they need to get south where there were guns and space. They’d almost be in Georgia when someone would tell ‘em there was some real government up in New York again.

They’d follow pipe dream to pipe dream to pipe dream. They’d probably die young.

Toni curled around Shelby, holding Martha’s hand. Fatin and Leah held on for dear life. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Nora. Dot watched them all.

Yeah they’d probably die young. Better than dying alone.

#gus writes #the wilds #the wilds fanfic #goodfoe fanfic #shoni #leatin fanfic #leatin #dot campbell #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #rachel reid #nora reid #martha blackburn #the unsinkable 8 #the unsinkable eight

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