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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years ago

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for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish (b.r.b.)

a/n: eh what the hell, i’m indulging myself. kylie has to get her wisdom teeth out and she doesn’t wanna! this is small but self indulgent

summary: Bradley goes with Sunshine to the dentist.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | flight risk masterlist | flight risk timeline

warnings: dentists, wisdom tooth infections, antibiotics, swearing, food mentions, brief mention of insecurities and doubt of self-worth at the end

"You’re going.”

You huff, looking up at the brunette who towers over you, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “I don’t wanna.” The words come out in a more of a whine than you originally mean them to and you cringe.

“Are you 3?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I don’t know you to be a petulant child Sunshine.” He pauses, frowning as you continue to stare back at him. “C’mon, the only thing not going will do for you is make your pain worse.”

You sigh, sliding further into the couch. “Yeah, I know, but-” You cut yourself off, feeling suddenly really silly.

“But-?” He prompts, raising his eyebrow.

“But like- what if I have to get emergency wisdom tooth removal? I talked to my Dad, they’ll probably have to put me under and that’s literally terrifying-”

“Sunshine.” He says, firmly, cutting you off. “Then we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“I can’t afford emergency wisdom tooth surgery.” You mutter.

He sighs. “As of Friday, that won’t matter okay? And we will figure it out. I promise. In sickness and in health, right?”

Part of you wants argue that he’s too nice to you, another part wanting to argue that the two of you really shouldn’t be getting married on Friday.

The overwhelming part that wins is the part that doesn’t want to be in pain anymore.

You sigh, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Fine. Fine.”

Bradley flashes you a bright smile, pulling your front door open. “After you m’lady.”

The door jingles above you as you open the door to the office. The lady sitting at the front desk offers you a smile. “Hi, how may I help you?”

You take a deep breath as Bradley follows you into the office. “Hi, I’m here for an appointment?”

The lady asks for your name as you see Bradley moves towards the fish tank in your peripheral. “Sunshine look, it’s Nemo.” He says, bending down to look into the tank.

The lady laughs softly as she hands you your paperwork. “If you want to just have a seat, someone will be out to take you back in a little.”

“Thank you.” You say, moving to sit down on the bench. Bradley follows your lead and squishes himself in between the two of you. You look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“We’re sitting together.” He says simply.

“We don’t both fit.”

He shrugs at your words, tapping the clipboard. “Fill out your paperwork.”

You shake your head, bringing your gaze down to the pages in front of you.

As you fill out your insurance information, you feel your legs become uncrossed, your foot falling to bounce on the floor. It’s almost unconscious as you chew on your lip, filling out the paperwork in front of you.

Suddenly, Bradley’s hand comes out to your knee, holding it still. “You’re gonna be fine Sunshine.” His eyes don’t move from the fish tank.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’re holding, nodding as tears prick your eyes.

The two of you sit there for a little while longer before one of the dental assistants comes out, calling you by name. You take a deep breath as you stand up, the woman taking your paperwork from you.

“Good luck Sunshine.” Bradley says, giving you a goofy grin and two thumbs up. “I’ll watch your purse.”

You let out a little laugh, shaking your head, as you follow the woman further into the office.

“You and your boyfriend are very cute.” She says, offering you a smile.

“Oh, we’re not-” You pause, swallowing.

If you were getting married, you couldn’t really keep denying that, could you?

You nod. “Yeah, he’s wonderful.”

“So?” He asks raising an eyebrow as you emerge from the back, holding two pieces of paper in your hand.

“Antibiotics for a week and super ibuprofen for the pain.”

He stands up from the bench as you say goodbye to the woman at the front desk. Moving to the door of the office, the bell jingles again as the two of you leave.

“Don’t forget you need to eat yogurt or something with your antibiotics.”

“I fucking hate yogurt. I don’t even have yogurt.”

He chuckles, following on to the steps of the building. “Sounds like we’ll be making a trip to the grocery store and the pharmacy then.”

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling bad and self-conscious at all the kind things he’s done for you even just over the span of the last week since the party.

You turn as he pulls his keys out, the Bronco clicking unlocked. “You don’t have to. I mean you drove me to my appointment-”

He shakes his head, pulling the front door open. “In sickness and in health Sunshine!”

You stand at the pharmacy counter, waiting for them to fill your prescription when a sharp pain erupts in your side. You turn, realizing Bradley has nudged you with the cart, giving you a guilty smile. “Ow.”

“Sorry Sunshine.”

“You are literally a pain in my ass.”

He shrugs. “Maybe, but you can’t hate me because I’m buying you cake. And it’s even your favorite flavor!”

You sigh. “Bradshaw, I’m perfectly capable of buying my own groceries. And affording them.”

He sighs, leaning up against the cart. “For richer, for poor, remember?”

“We aren’t even married yet.”

“Details. How much longer?” He says through a feigned yawn, waving a hand in the air.

You squint at him, moving closer to him as your voice drop downs to a whisper. “I didn’t realize doing this for the benefits meant buying all my groceries. I can pay my own bills.”

“Sunshine, do you ever let anybody do anything nice for you?”

“I-”

“Sunshine, you’re in pain. You have a wisdom tooth infection. I know you haven’t been eating and I know surgery isn’t going to be cheap. Let me buy you fucking yogurt and dino nuggies.”

You frown, eyeing him. Before you can say anything though, the pharmacist comes back to the counter with your prescription in hand.

“Rawr.”

You look up, seeing Bradley setting on of his t-rexs on your plate. “What are you doing?”

He gives you a nervous smile. “My dinosaur is saying hi.”

Your hand reaches up to rub your temple. “Why are you playing with your food? Are you a toddler or a grown-ass adult? Because I’m not sure.”

He shrugs, taking the piece of meat back. “I just wanted to make you smile. Now, eat your food. You can’t take super ibuprofen on an empty stomach.”

You sigh. “But my tooth hurts.”

He chuckles, dipping the dinosaur in ketchup. “Sunshine, it’s not gonna stop hurting until you take super ibuprofen and you have to eat to do that.”

You groan, sliding down in your chair. “Bradley, we gotta talk about this.”

His gaze flickers up to you as he chomps down on a pterodactyl, biting it’s head off. “Talk ‘bout what?”

“Getting married?” You say, like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world. Like it hasn’t been haunting you since you and Bradley had set down in a diner near campus and agreed to actually do the damn thing.

“I thought we already talked about it.”

“When are we telling our friends?”

He shrugs. “Whenever you give me the go-ahead Sunshine. You might want to tell Bailey before we tell Eli though, because her head’s gonna explode.”

You shrug, reaching out to move one of the dino nuggets around the plate. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna tell her.”

He pauses mid-bite, raising an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

“I just don’t... I just don’t think she’ll care all that much.”

He snorts. “She’ll care, trust me. Stop playing with your food.”

You swallow, sitting up in your chair as your hand slide under your legs to keep from peeling at the skin around your nails. You want to tell him that you don’t think they want to hear from you, that they were really only your friends because they felt bad for you, but another part of is terrified that he might agree.

“You’re a good person, you know that right, Bradley?”

Your voice is quiet, the only sound in the room becoming the TV of the two of you left on for background noise. He hums, tilting his head. “Okay, what’s up Sunshine?” He holds up a finger as you open your mouth to protest. “And don’t fucking bullshit me, Sunshine. You’ve been acting strange for a while now.”

“I don’t- I don’t know.” You mumble. “I haven’t felt like myself in months. I’m graduating in a few months, I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, I’ve got so much shit to do between now and May, I spend all my energy playing mediator between my parents- I’m just- I’m just-”

You force yourself to stop, taking a shuddering breath as hot tears prick your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry in front of him again.

“You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You mutter, looking down to your plate as the first tear rolls down your cheek, hot against your skin. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He sighs, the sound of his chair moving echoing through the living room as he moves to sit down next to you. He pulls you into his chest and against your better judgment, you wrap your arms around him, returning his hug. He rubs your shoulder sympathetically, making the tears fall harder. “It’s gonna be okay, Sunshine. We’ll figure it out together, I promise. You’re not in this on your own.”

As your tears bubble over, creating a wet patch on Bradley’s shirt, you can’t help but think about how you wound up with someone as incredible as him in it.

He’s so kind.

And you don’t deserve it.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fics #flight risk

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gallifrey1sburning · 4 years ago

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Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.”

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly.

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!”

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

—

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three.

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged.

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.”

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

—

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

—

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse.

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed—and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over.

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.”

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then—

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #draco malfoy #harry potter #my writing

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fandom-scatteredthoughtsonpaper · 3 years ago

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A birthday fic to correct the awful event Mammon got!

Countdown to Your Special Day

Mammon x Yuki (My MC)

Pronouns: Zie/zir, they/them. If it's easier to read, feel free to sub in they/them for the main pronouns

Tags: Light-hearted romance, fluff/comfort, slight misunderstandings, agender MC, self-indulgent

Words: 4436

[2 months and 1 day away]

-Yuki was curled up in the corner of the couch, concentrated on zir D.D.D. Zie had an open notebook next to zir, the pages filled with calculated numbers and final prices with names of potential websites beside them, some scribbled out and some circled.

-Mammon's birthday was coming up in a couple months, and Yuki had started late in saving money for the surprise zie had wanted to plan for him. He had mentioned it last year as an ideal day, and zie really wanted to make it happen, especially considering all zie did for him was write a bunch of heartfelt letters. Zie wanted to give him something to really experience this time.

-It was just a bit more expensive than zie had realized. Rentals next to a lake were nothing to sneeze at.

-So absorbed with zir phone, Yuki hadn't noticed Lucifer as he entered the library where zie had gone to avoid nosy demons.

-"What are you doing in here, Yuki?"

-Startled, zie dropped zir phone and reflexively covered the notebook. When Yuki realized it was Lucifer, zie relaxed and slumped back against the couch. "Oh, it's just you. Don't scare me like that."

-"That was a bit of a reaction. Are you doing something I should be aware of?"

-"No," was zir immediate response, but then zie reconsidered zir answer. Yuki had been fumbling numbers and trying to make a decision for hours. Zie wanted to do this zirself, but zie'd never done something like this and probably, reluctantly, needed some aid. "Actually, yeah. I need your... help."

-Lucifer blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected this stubborn human who actively tried to make his life harder to ask for help, but Yuki seemed genuine in zir request. "Alright. What is it?"

[1 month and 23 days away]

-Mammon was by the entrance to RAD, waiting for Yuki to come out so they could go home together. Zie had been preoccupied with Lucifer this morning and hadn't left with the younger brothers like usual.

-His day had felt off with Yuki's absence but walking home with zir would make up for it.

-Fiddling around on his D.D.D., checking his sells and ignoring demands from the witches, he occasionally glanced up when saw movement coming out, but it was never Yuki. Hearing familiar voices when the doors cracked open, Mammon took his attention off his phone. It was only Levi and Satan, but maybe Yuki was trailing shortly behind.

-"Mammon, what are you still doing here?"

-"Yeah, I thought you'd be long gone by now after the way you rushed out of the classroom."

-"Shaddup. What's it to ya?" He paused. "I was waitin' for Yuki. Did ya happen to see 'em in there?"

-"So honest. Just say that to begin with," Levi muttered.

-"I think Yuki left earlier with Barbatos."

-"Yep, I overheard Barbatos mention that Lord Diavolo wanted to talk with them about something."

-"What?! Yuki didn't mention anythin' about meetin' with Lord Diavolo to me."

-Satan quirked a bemused eyebrow at Mammon's response. "Why would Yuki need to run it by you about meeting with Lord Diavolo?"

-"LOLOL, it's because Yuki's been avoiding Mammon for a week now. He's been acting like a stray dog without Yuki around."

-Mammon bristled at Levi's comment but didn't rebuttal. He pocketed his phone and walked away from his brothers, darting through the courtyard to leave RAD.

-It was true Yuki had been distant-like the last few of days, but Mammon was sure it was temporary. Even he got tied up in circumstances and important events he couldn't squirm out of. Sometimes it couldn't be helped.

-It wasn't temporary.

[3 weeks and 5 days away]

-"Hey, Yuki--"

-"Sorry, Mammon, I'm running late for my shift. I'll talk to you later!"

-With that as a bye, Yuki was out the door and gone.

-Yuki was usually lackadaisical about any jobs zie took unless one of the brothers worked with zir or if the job required zir full attention. Mammon was usually the first to know if zie had to work, but when--

-"When did Yuki pick up a job?"

-"Jobs," Satan corrected. "Yuki is working at The Fall tonight."

-"The Fall?" Asmo questioned.

"Hold on, what do ya mean 'jobs'? I ain't heard Yuki say anythin' about picking up jobs willingly," Mammon stated, a bit annoyed. He was getting tired of hearing his brothers be more informed about Yuki than he was.

-"When was the last time Yuki actually talked to you, Mammon, that wasn't in passing?" Levi teased without bothering to look up from his game.

-"Hey! We've talked plenty!"

-"Sure, if you want to call those conversations."

-Mammon wanted to argue with Levi, but he really couldn't. He wasn't wrong. Yuki had been absent, and whenever Mammon did manage to talk to zir it was about short and trivial things. It made it hard not to be concerned about the situation of their relationship when Yuki, who was usually glued to his side and spent so much time with him, was suddenly avoiding him. His life had become a bit lonelier without Yuki around.

-"Anyway," Satan interjected, "they've been picking up a lot of shifts from different places the last few weeks. I'm surprised neither you or Asmo knew, considering the network you both have."

-"What the heck does that mean?"

-"It means you're gossiping normies," Levi jeered.

-"Is that s'posed to be an insult?"

-"Besides all that, I'm shocked Yuki picked up shifts at The Fall. I'd love to see the outfit their wearing," Asmo mused. "I'll have to visit them later! I'm sure Yuki will feel completely refreshed after seeing my lovely face."

-Oh, that's right. If Mammon visited Yuki during work hours, zie'd have no choice but to talk with him. He could finally ask zir what the hell has been going on and get an explanation. At the very least just see zir.

-"Well, I'm goin' too! So don't get any funny ideas!"

-"You're not going anywhere, Mammon. You have three extra credit assignments due soon, and you haven't started a single one. Have you?"

-Mammon jumped, frightened by Lucifer's sudden presence behind him. A nervous chill tingled down his spine, so he could only guess the scowl that Lucifer was burning into the back of his head. He tried searching for an excuse, but he was coming up dry.

-Dammit, Lucifer, any time but now!

"W-Well, ya see, dearest big bro--"

-Irritated, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could feel a headache creeping on him. "That's what I thought. Mammon, my room. Now. I'm going to watch you finish your assignments, even if it takes all night."

[6 days away]

-Mammon simmered as he walked the hallway to Yuki's bedroom. Yuki had seen his messages, but zie was hardly responding to them, if zie did at all. The thought that he had unconsciously done or said something to offend Yuki teased his anxiety, but Mammon quickly squished it. Zie'd just been busy with work and had no off days, but according to Satan, zie only had one more shift.

-One more day that zie would be busy, but then after that zie'd have tons of free time. Yuki will be back by zir favorite demon's side, and then everything else will fall smoothly back into place.

-It was absurd how empty Mammon could feel with Yuki missing from his daily routines. It was worse than when zie had left, when all he could think about was zir where ever he went. Yuki was here though, so he didn't miss zir physically, not like when zie returned home.

-He missed talking with his human, about anything. He missed expecting to see zir when he turned his head. He was missing a piece of a puzzle, and it was aggravating when it was just in grasp, hiding from him.

-Yuki was going to receive a real earful. He deserved that much of complaining after how he'd been treated.

-That could wait though.

-It had been a while since Mammon and Yuki had gone out on a date, and he had just gotten paid from his latest photoshoot. He was confident if he met with Yuki face-to-face and invited zir out zie wouldn't say no.

-That had been the plan until he saw Yuki coming the down the corridor, walking with a purpose. An antsy feeling stabbed him in the gut.

-"Yuki!"

-Yuki froze mid-stride as Mammon approached zir. "Mammon."

-"Yeah, me! The Great Mammon has decided to bless ya with his presence since ya keep ignorin' my messages. Anyway! Guess who got paid today with a bonus? And guess who's gettin' treated to whatever they feel like tomorrow tonight?"

-"Sorry, Mammon, I can't. I have to go to the human world with Lucifer."

-"What'd'ya mean? I didn't hear nothin' 'bout Lucifer havin' to go to the human world."

"Regardless of what you did or didn't hear, it's true all the same. Yuki and I have an appointment in the human world and won't be back for a couple days. Your plans will have to be postponed for later."

-Why was something always blindsiding him lately?

-"What?! Well, if Yuki's goin', I'm goin' too!"

-"Absolutely not. I don't need you causing havoc when I take my eyes off you for more than a second. Don't worry, though, I'll need your company next week for a special trip to the human world."

-It had been quick, but Mammon had thought he had seen Yuki flicked zir eyes at Lucifer.

-"Mammon, it's just for a couple days. Do your best to tough it out. We'll hang out plenty after, okay?"

"Ya better keep your word."

[The Night Before]

-"Mammon, don't forget you're accompanying me to the human world tomorrow morning," Lucifer announced when everyone had sat down for dinner.

-"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Mammon replied. He wasn't the least bit interested in being ordered around doing paperwork and errands. Catching movement from his peripheral, Mammon noticed Yuki trying to look at him without being obvious. He just got zir back, and they had hardly spent any time together. He didn't want to leave, even if it was just a day. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Yuki. "You should definitely come too. You agree, don't ya, Yuki?"

-Yuki barely had the chance to open zir mouth, let alone formulate an answer, before Lucifer answered instead. "No, Yuki has other affairs to attend tomorrow. It's only a day, Mammon. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it, so don't complain."

-There wasn't any further comments about the trip, but Mammon made it obvious he was still hot under the collar with the way he stomped away, taking Yuki right along with him, when dinner concluded. He had been on cleaning duty with Belphie, but Lucifer offered in his place, quelling any complaints.

-Lucifer smiled amusedly to himself as he cleared the table. If only Mammon was aware enough to know what was planned for the day.

-"I can't believe that jerk," Mammon remarked as he dropped onto Yuki's bed. Yuki rolled zir eyes in response before sitting beside the grumpy demon. "I had plans I wanted to do tomorrow, ya know? Dammit! He just came back from the human world!"

-"Did you actually have plans?" Yuki asked it with a sarcastic tone, but zie was suddenly concerned. It was his birthday tomorrow, so maybe he had made plans that Yuki hadn't accounted for.

-Mammon glared at Yuki, his cheeks a shade darker than a moment prior, either from frustration or embarrassment wasn't certain. "I did," he stated softly.

"With who?"

"You, obviously!"

"Wait, we had plans tomorrow? What di--"

-Before Yuki could finish Mammon yanked zir down next to him, hugging zir tightly. Momentarily surprised, Yuki was slow to return the embrace. Zie expected him to be a bit clingy because zie'd been unavailable to be with him for a while, but this hug felt a bit too tight, desperate.

-"You said we could hang out after y'all returned from the human world, but we ain't had much time without being interrupted or the others butting in."

-"Ah. You're right," Yuki agreed. It's funny how zie had been planning this whole affair for Mammon, but in the process has unintentionally abandoned. Zie regretted that.

-"You're warm," he muttered into zir neck. "..I've missed ya like crazy. I've been dyin' to hug you, but it isn't actually enough now that I am. I'm not lettin' you go for the rest of the night."

-A soft sting of guilt hit Yuki's heart. Zie probably could have done a better job of trying to keep the surprise a secret without leaving Mammon completely in the dark, but between the jobs and helping Diavolo and classes taking up the majority of zir time... No, that wasn't an excuse. Yuki had hurt Mammon. That was obvious.

-Yuki entangled zir legs with Mammon's and reached zir arms around his waist, holding him close. Zie took a moment to just be with Mammon, inhaling his smell, hearing his heart beat. Zie had missed him too, a whole bunch, almost too much, but hopefully tomorrow would make up for the weeks of absence and neglect. "I missed you, too, Mammon. Just put up with it for a little bit longer."

[The Day!]

-"Happy birthday, Mammon!!"

-He had heard Yuki's voice before he had actually seen zir. He was flabbergasted to see zir come out of the cabin he had arrived at.

-When Mammon had woken up and joined the others for breakfast, Yuki had already left. It wasn't long after that Lucifer and he prepared for the trip to the human world. He had dragged his feet and groaned, making a show of not wanting to go. When Lucifer had sent Mammon ahead of him to get things ready, he thought it had been a punishment for his attitude, but after coming through the portal into the human world, he realized it wasn't in the city or anywhere near the hotel they usually stayed at.

-The scenery was beautiful and spacious, open in nature with cabins lining a sparking lake that had docks and piers dividing it. Unlike the city cramped full of people and towering buildings designed with glaring windows that bounced the bright sunlight off of them and funky smells, this area was full of trees that casted cool shadows and a refreshing breeze that rustled the leaves.

-Mammon was absolutely gobsmacked.

-Yuki beamed when zie saw the awestruck trance Mammon was in. Zie was hoping he'd like it. Mammon was definitely a city boy, but Yuki took a guess he enjoyed the lure of natural scenery too, based on their picnic date and walks through the forests.

-Mammon's daze broke when he saw Yuki approaching him. "What's goin' on, Yuki?"

-"C'mon, ya dummy, think! You didn't expect Lucifer to make you go on a business trip on your birthday, did you? It was his way of bringing you up here without being suspicious. Although, I thought you definitely would've caught on last week with what he said."

-He had completely forgotten about his birthday. Mammon had been entirely focused on Yuki and zir strange attitude that he'd spaced on even the date.

-"Oh."

-"Yeah, so," Yuki stepped back and spread zir arms out, displaying the lake on zir right and the cabin on zir left, "happy birthday... again! You mentioned a cabin by a lake as an ideal place to go, and you also wanted to rent a boat in the park, so I thought merging the two together would be a good idea! On top of that, I plan to 'spoil ya rotten all day'. What does the Great Mammon think?"

-"Ya know, I'm not deaf to the mocking tone. You're killin' the mood before it's even started, but I guess I can let it slide!"

[Final Hours]

-As the dimming daylight darkened through the pulled curtains, Yuki and Mammon lounged restfully on the couch. Mammon used Yuki's lap as a pillow as zie stroked zir fingers against his head. The tingling feeling traveled down his spine and relaxed his body. He could probably fall asleep in this position with Yuki brushing his hair with such tender touches. If they were at the House of Lamentation, they wouldn't be able to have this kind of moment without being interrupted by his brothers. Too bad the day was coming to an end.

-Dwelling on the negative thought caused him to unintentionally frown, and Yuki noticed the crease on his brow. Zie poked his forehead to get his attention, and his eyes opened to see Yuki leaning over him.

-"What are you thinking about?"

-"That we'll have to go back to the Devildom tomorrow. How am I s'posed to accept that after today? Today was too good to end like that, ya know?"

-Yuki hummed in agreement. Zie briefly looked away as a thoughtful expression morphed zir features. "Well," zie started, zir eyes focused back on Mammon, "I couldn't afford to stay for more than one night. My birthday is just a few months away, so maybe you could plan something for us, like when you rented the pool."

-Mammon felt a pang of short-lived guilt for complaining. Yuki had worked hard to save enough money to rent this cabin, even with Diavolo hooking zir up months in advance. "I still can't believe ya didn't just tell me. I was actually..."

-"Worried you did something? Sorry, Mammon. I should have said something, but I was nervous that I couldn't keep it a secret. I was too excited to not tell you, but then the jobs piled up and I promised to help Diavolo in exchange for talking the price down with the owner. I shouldn't have ignored you though. I'm sorry."

-There was a lull in their conversation, but it was only a slightly weighted silence. The misunderstandings were cleared up and today was one of the best days Mammon had ever had, spending it alone with Yuki. He would have enjoyed it even if it hadn't been his birthday and with Yuki pampering him all day.

-"C'mere," Mammon said as he placed a warm hand against the back of Yuki's neck, pulling zir down for a kiss. "You're goin' to have to take responsibility for my feelings. You're the reason I was stressin' out. The whole time you were busy workin' your ass off for this trip, I was thinkin' of you. As your first, I'm entitled to know what you're doin'. I'm gonna get my fill of ya tonight before we have to head home. I've got weeks worth to get outta ya."

-Yuki's cheeks heated as Mammon greedily kissed zir lips. Zie silently agreed that zie wanted to get the most out of Mammon while they were still alone, but one night of trying to cram almost a month and a half of time lost wasn't possible.

-"Your lips are warm," Mammon murmured as they separated. "That wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me though. I wanna show ya how much I appreciate you."

-"What, uh, what do you wanna do?"

-"Right now? Nothin'. Bein' with ya like this is enough for the moment. I love you, Yuki."

-An explosion of emotions surged through Yuki's chest to the rest of zir body, making zir giddy with adoration. Zie wasn't sure how zie was containing it, but staring down into Mammon's eyes, seeing his tinted cheeks, and him just relaxing with zir simultaneously fueled zir feelings more while also grounding zir.

-"I love you, too, Mammon."

#i didn't spite write a 4000k fic for Mammon's bday in two days or spent half a day editing it after posting it #nor am i disgusted with how i feel like i didn't write Mammon properly despite constantly checking screenshots and similar moments in-game #nor am i debating adding the smut back in because i wrote it poorly #couldn't be me #mammon deserves better regardless of canon or fanon content ugh #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc #jess writes

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smol-and-grumpy · 5 years ago

Text

Cross My Heart - CH.18

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x Reader; Chuck Shurley x Reader

Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 2068

A/N: This is it. The end. Again. I’m always so sad when a story ends. Please, please let me know what you think about it. Feedback keeps me going. Thank you for reading the 18 chapters. I know it was a lot. I apparently can’t write short series anymore.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N has offered to pay and cover for Cas’ expenses if he wants to stay here while Dean’s still in the hospital — she got her bag with her things back too, because Bobby came in to see Dean before he left, and left her bag with Dean. She’s a little sad she missed Bobby, hadn’t really got to officially meet that man that Dean’s so fond of. He came in when Cas and her were out to find her some pants. Cas politely declined, though, because he needs to get back for his new job as a car salesman.

She can imagine him selling a lot of cars to single women, to be honest. He has that charming smile and eyes that are blue as a clear sky on a sunny day.

The next day, when she goes in to see Dean, he’s already sitting up and talking on the phone. She slips into the room and sits on the empty chair beside him.

He’s doing incredibly good for someone who almost died. It’s only the wound on his stomach that’s still hurting and he’s on painkillers. The doctor’s are happy with the progress he makes, and said that it’s rare that they see someone with his wounds recover that well. Guess Dean’s a super human, at least that’s what he is to her.

Dean’s frowning while he talks but he smiles at her with his eyes, she can see it clearly. She likes that, likes the way he smiles and she’s able to see the smile reaching his eyes. It’s so rare to see that in a person.

Y/N takes out her new phone which she bought this morning and begins to set it up while she waits for Dean to finish his call. She can hear that he’s talking to Benny.

She knows what Benny's telling him because she went in to see Benny this morning, as he’s still in town to wrap the case up.

Apparently, Chuck’s company isn’t doing well (surprise!), and he’s close to losing it. And instead of selling or getting investors on board, he decides that it would be easier to kill off his own wife. She’s glad that her soon to be ex-husband is facing life in jail, to be honest. Because that’s what Benny has told her. They’ve got a strong case and the chances of Chuck ever getting out of jail alive, are slim to non-existent. That’s good. Really good. It’s just, she doesn’t look forward to going up into the witness stand. Especially when they could bring up her relationship with Dean, which could lead to other suspicions and would raise more questions, but knowing Dean, he’s going to be great in the courtroom. It’s her that’s going to need some coaching.

“Yeah,” Dean says, “Thanks for everything man. I owe you. Of course. Yeah, we should. Okay, bye.”

He hangs up and rubs at his ears. He’s probably been on the phone for a while, “Benny says hi.”

“I like Benny,” She says, looking up from her phone to grin at him.

“Yeah?”

“He ties with Cas on the list of my favorite people.” She shrugs.

Dean raises his eyebrows, “Who tops the list?”

“Um,” She says, pretending to think, “There’s this guy.”

“Yeah?” He pats at the space next to him on the bed and she gets up and sits closer to him. He rubs over her thighs. Up and down.

“Yeah,” She smiles, “He’s quite alright. He took care of me so that brings him to the top of my list.”

Dean chuckles, pulls her closer by the neckline of her shirt to kiss her.

He breaks from it and grins, before his face gets serious, “Jesus, I love you so much, you know that? It terrifies me. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

He’s so blunt about it, it blows her mind. Her cheeks start to flare up.

“Me neither.” She says, because it’s true. What she thought was love? What she had at the beginning with Chuck? It was never like this. She leans forward, kisses him, smells him, tastes him, and smiles against his lips, “So, will you do the honor of being the first number I’ll save into my new phone?” She grins, holds the phone out for him to punch in his digits.

Dean chuckles, takes the phone and thumbs over it, writes his name. When he’s done, he hands it to her and she looks at the contact.

“D?” She looks at him, “D. This is all you wanna be known as?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, I don’t like people knowing everything about me.”

“But D, ugh.”

“Hey, I could have written The best D you ever had but that would have been inappropriate.” There’s a cocky grin on his face.

She sighs, “Fine, but ugh, I wanna put a heart next to it at least. So I won’t mix you up with all the other D’s that I’ll be having on my phone.”

“Hey!” Dean has to laugh, and is now holding his stomach and then he tries to think of something not funny, she can tell, because his lips are pressed into a thin line and after a couple of breaths, he manages to calm down. After a couple more minutes of even breathing, he reaches over to get his phone, and hands it to her, “I need your number too.”

“Why? Will you send me a dick pic?”

Dean snorts at that and she can’t help but giggle. He’s holding his stomach again, and maybe she should really not be a pain in his ass. She just can’t help it and seize the opportunity when it’s there.

He raises one eyebrow then, “Would you like me to send you a dick pic?”

She should have known that karma will get her, because now, the one who’s blushing is her. With a shrug, she says, “It depends who’s dick it is,”

“What do you mean, who’s dick it is? I don’t have pictures of other dicks. At least I don’t think I do,” He grins, pretending to think and she rolls her eyes.

Grabbing his phone out of his hands while he’s still lost in thought, she gets off the bed and begins to type in her number, had to search for it on the receipt she got, because she can’t really remember it by heart. But when she finishes, she sits back on the empty space she just left and hands the phone back to Dean, a grin so wide, like she’s really proud of it.

Y/N watches as Dean looks at his phone. His eyebrows meet in the middle and there’s a slight lift of one of them.

“BAE LOML? So many hearts?” Dean looks from the phone to her and she really, really tries not to laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“You could google it?”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dean places his phone back on the charger and turns his attention back to her, “I’ve talked to Sammy this morning.”

Ah, he’s changing the subject because he’s embarrassed that he probably quite likes the name she just gave herself. At least it doesn’t seem like he would want to change it.

“Yeah?”

“He’s going to handle your divorce. If you still want to divorce that son of a bitch, that is,” Dean pauses, pulls her into him, so that she’s half on the bed and half on top of him on the side that he’s not hurt, “Which, I would hope that you will, because he’s kind of a dick.”

She has to chuckle.

“Sam’s going to prepare all the paperwork so the only thing you have to do is signing it.” Dean kisses her forehead.

“I will,” She nods her head. She wants to do it. Wants to move forward.

He looks at her, his hand tucks away a loose strand of her hair, “Do you want to go back to your house after all this? Live in the city?”

It’s the first time that he mentions the life after this nightmare. Honestly, she never thought about it. She doesn’t know what to do with her life at all.

“No, I don’t want to go live in that house anymore.” She says. She couldn’t possibly go back. There are too many memories. It’s too big, it’s too fancy. It’s too Chuck. Plus, she doesn’t have anything in the city anymore that could hold her there. No friends, no family, no Chuck.

Dean’s smirking, it’s probably the answer he was anticipating to hear, “Can you imagine coming back with me?”

“Well,” She says and Dean’s smile turns into a straight line. She really doesn’t want to play with him when he’s still recovering, but it’s so easy to rile him up, “I don’t know,” She sighs, for the dramatic, “You’d have to buy me a drink first, I’m not that easy, Dean.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” He mumbles, curses some more but then he grins, kisses her lips bruisingly hard.

“Ugh, Liz won’t like me living there, though.”

“Liz doesn’t really like anyone, and besides, that’s her problem and not yours.” Dean scoffs.

“She likes you.”

“Baby,” Dean holds her face between his palms, squishing at her cheeks so she has a fish mouth and then he grins, “What do I have to do to make you see that you’re it? Huh?” He pecks her fish lips and then he lets go of her face, strokes her cheeks instead, and he gets serious again, “All I saw was you. I think I even dreamt of you when I was out and unconscious. And even in my dreams I made sure that you were okay. When I was there on the floor? I was angry at myself, you know? I was thinking that I was fucking stupid to have thought that Chuck wouldn’t have a back up plan. And when I heard the shot, I hoped and prayed that he didn’t shoot you.”

She says, leans in, nuzzles her nose against his stubbled jaw, “Okay, I move in with you.” Moving up on the bed a little, she lays on his shoulder, buries her face into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“We could get a house. I mean, it won’t be as big as the one you’re used to living in but we can get a reasonably sized house in a reasonably good neighborhood.”

She has to chuckle at that, “Sounds reasonably good. I don’t need big things.”

“That’s because I’m already quite big.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Dean.”

Y/N punches his chest and he has to laugh and flinches at that. Good. He deserved it.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, though? I mean, we don’t know each other for very long,” The question is not really weird? Is it? It’s true, they know each other for what? Two weeks tops? She doesn’t really know anymore but it feels like a lifetime. Although it’s only a question to rile him up a little more.

“I think I know you better than I know anyone else.” Dean says, and adds, “But I’m not pressuring you. I just wanna add that I’m here no matter what and you should know that by now.”

She smiles, it’s so easy with him really, “If you know me, you should know that I’m ready to follow you anywhere by now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean places a soft kiss on her lips, “You let me keep you?”

She nods with a smile, “Promise me that you will,”

“Cross my heart,” Dean huffs out a breath, kisses her again, it’s soft and tender, pours all his love into it and she feels it. Feels it too. Feels the butterflies, feels the little bubbles getting bigger in her heart. And she thinks that Dean’s right. Sometimes things do happen for a reason. She looks forward to a new future, it might not be gold and glitter, but that’s not what she wants anyway. She wants someone who sees her as his equal, she wants someone who treats her right, who makes her want to be the best version of herself. She wants someone who can make her laugh, she wants someone who has her back, no matter what. She wants Dean.

FIN

#cross my heart #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #bodyguard!dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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ohpretty-baby · 5 years ago

Text

puff, puff, pass

⇥ pairing: hoseok x reader ; established relationship

⇥ genre: FLUFF, implicit smut, angst if you blink

⇥ synopsis: hoseok just thinks your face is really cute. that’s it. that’s the post.

⇥ warnings: cursing, mentions of ... the sex

⇥ word count: 5.3k

a cute lil hobi fic i started before i got requests! posting it cause school is stressful and writing is how i cope with the fact that school is a thing. also i need to expand my masterlist haha

i’m working on requests still i promise ;)

i know the title seems like it’s not related to the content in any way but i promise it somewhat is. also it made me laugh so i kept it there.

thank you all so much again for 100 followers! i truly am enamored with each one of you.

i’ll be posting a drabble game soon, so be ready!!

enjoy my loves <3

You know how almost everyone has at least one thing that they inexplicably love dearly?

It's something that they can't really understand exactly why they love this thing. They just do. They hold it near and dear to their hearts, and it's always in the back of their minds. For some, it may consume them, causing them to obsess and lose their senses over it. For others, it provides comfort in times of distraught.

For many, it simply reminds you of the beauty of being alive and motivates you to be the best that you can be.

Sometimes it's a movie that one person saw during their childhood. Or maybe it's a certain poem that resonated while they were in love. It could be a stuffed animal, or it could be an actual person, like a parent or a lover.

Whether it be a person, animal, or movie, there is always at least one thing that humans are deeply attached to.

And for Jung Hoseok...

Well, for him, it was your face.

Your adorable, cute little face.

Why, you might ask?

Your face isn't his favorite just because he thinks you're physically attractive. Of course, he thinks you truly are beautiful, inside and out, and he's never gone one day without being stunned from looking at you or just watching you perform simple tasks, like drinking a glass of water.

In fact, Hoseok has never found anyone or anything as beautiful as you in his life.

Some mornings he'll watch you as you sleep peacefully under the covers, the sunlight seeping in through the curtains and glossing your skin. His eyes will trace your features, adoring how you were gorgeous without even trying. He'll notice the corners of your lips curving upwards unconsciously, causing a smile to creep up on his face as he wonders what you were dreaming about.

It's moments like these where Hoseok can't believe it. He cannot simply fathom the fact that you chose to be with him.

Hoseok knows that you simply exude beauty, as he was a constant witness of this fact.

But that wasn’t really the exact reason why Hoseok loved your face so much.

He loves the way your cheeks squish up and slightly cover your eyes when he cups your face in his hands. He loves lightly pinching your cheek whenever you tease him, loves the way your cheeks puff up when you're eating dinner with him at your favorite restaurant. Not to mention, he most definitely loves pecking your cheek whenever you're focused on something or when you're ranting to him about your day.

It's something about the way your cheeks are so soft and puffy whenever you smile that just makes Hoseok absolutely melt.

He knows that you hate how chubby your face is, and it perplexes him. The fact that you'd want to change your face is strange to him, really. He's actually spent many days trying to figure out this enigma, wondering why exactly you'd despise the face that he loves so dearly. The thought runs around his head constantly, dampening his mood whenever he ponders on it too much.

More often than not, the his friends would find Hoseok frozen in place and deep in thought, a small frown permanent on his face because of this enigma. It'd take them multiple tries to draw him out of whatever trance he was in, as Hoseok's eyes would be fixated on a spec of dust in the air or just a certain spot on the floor.

So Hoseok tries his best to make you smile as much as he can, to see your cheeks puff up. He can't explain why he loves it so much, but all he knows is that he becomes putty in your hands when you smile at him at like that.

And now, Hoseok knows every single way to see your beautiful grin that he loves so much.

Once, he was able to make you smile by making a fool of himself in public. Now, all he ever does is dance in the middle of the streets in order to see your eyes twinkle back up at him. Sometimes he'll look up from his phone to see you watching him, a small smile on your face now spreading from ear to ear when you finally have his attention.

Other times, Hoseok will say something really dumb in order to get you to roll your eyes at him and laugh at his stupidity. Most times, he'll feel you smile against his chest when he holds you close to him. He'll feel your cheeks puff up and squish against his chest as you would nuzzle your head into his body. Hoseok would coo at this, placing a sweet kiss on your head and running a hand through your hair.

Hoseok absolutely loves your lazy smiles as well.

The ones where you just wake up and you greet him with a grin and a kiss, your motions languid as sleep is still running its course through your body. Hoseok can't help but gush when he sees your lips move slowly, dreamily spreading into a smile just for him.

He loves the smiles you flash him while he's on top of you, your eyes half-lidded and your lips emitting soft sighs while you try your best to keep eye contact with him, just like he asked. You’re compliant to his demands, doing everything you can to keep up with him, which makes his heart soar. It would be late at night, your shared bedroom completely dark, save for the moonlight peering in through the window.

However, this didn't stop Hoseok from soaking in your appearance. He'd notice how your skin was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, making you shine under the moonlight. He'd take in how your cheeks were tinted soft shades of red, how your body slotted perfectly with his. He'd take note of how you would wrap your legs around him, leaving no space between the two of you.

He'd stare at your lips as they formed his name, calling out to him beautifully. Your voice would drown out every single sense of his, Hoseok simply enamored with how you said his name. As the only sound in the room would be your sweet noises and Hoseok's occasional groans and deep breaths, he would watch as your face contorts in pleasure, your smile peeking out whenever Hoseok would reach a certain sweet spot.

And when you smiled, Hoseok could barely control himself, actions sporadic and nothing but praise for you falling from his lips.

It was safe to say that by the end of the night, both of you would be saying nothing but instead, flashing lazy, lethargic grins as you lulled off into sleep in each other's arms.

So when Hoseok says that he loves your face and that he loves you just the way you are, he means it. Deep in his heart, and even in his whole being, he means every single world. It's not like he could help it. For some reason he can't help but be enamored by you, can't help but to fall in deeper and deeper, especially when you smile at him like that.

Not a day goes by where Hoseok has not said:

"Did I tell you that you're beautiful?"

He'll say this out of nowhere and at random times, causing your cheeks to heat up and making you smile shyly at him. He was a spontaneous person, and you never really knew when you he was going to tell you this. All you knew for sure was that he was going to tell you this at least once, if not multiple times, throughout the day.

He'll say it when you're washing the dishes after eating lunch with him, or when you're filling out paperwork and you're completely absorbed in the task. He'll even shout it when you're taking a shower and he's brushing his teeth, the loud water rushing on your skin drowning out some of his words. You could be watching tv and he'd simply tuck some of the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, place a gentle kiss on your cheek, and then tell you the saying you've come to know and love.

Even when the two of you bicker, Hoseok will always end the night with telling you that. He'll finally have you face him so he can kiss you, making any anger or bitterness between the two of you dissipate. You would laugh, forgetting exactly why you had gotten into an argument with him in the first place. You would then realize that the problem was stupid anyways, recognizing just how much Hoseok loved you.

And you would be lying if you said that the nights after arguments were your favorite, since you would spend them talking with him for hours on end.

In fact, you still remember the first time the two of you had gotten into a dispute.

To this day, neither of you could remember exactly what you had been fighting about. However, it was the one time Hoseok hadn't said his infamous catchphrase to you. Instead, he simply just ignored it, acting as if the phrase had never existed. Unbeknownst to him, you had been secretly waiting for him to say it, for the whole situation to blow over.

But it hadn't.

That night, Hoseok was eerily silent and his eyes were unbelievably cold, the burrow in his eyebrows delving deeper and deeper with each passing minute. You didn't know what to do, and you had your back turned to him, feigning sleep in order to save yourself from the awkward tension in the dense air.

It was a few seconds before both you and him had fully realized that you were crying, you body trembling and tears pooling down onto your pillow.

Immediately, Hoseok had changed his demeanor, returning back to the sweet boyfriend that he usually was. He was now spewing out apology after apology, wiping your eyes and holding you tight against him once more. You didn't know what had taken over you, and it made you embarrassed. You couldn't tell why you had become so emotional over a few simple words.

It made you feel dumb, as you had never been this vulnerable or sensitive to anyone. You never really cried in front of anyone. It wasn't a matter of pride, it was just because you didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable or feel like they had to console you and your problems.

And he knew that, which is why it always somewhat shocked him when you cried in front of him. It was obvious by the way he looked at you with wide eyes and parted lips when he initially saw you crying.

Once Hoseok came back to his senses, however, this didn't matter to him anymore, as he was now rocking you back and forth gently in his arms, humming light melodies that softened the world around you.

"Did I tell you that you're beautiful?" He finally said, his voice soft as to not disturb the tranquility of the atmosphere.

"You didn't today..." You pouted, gasping in between words as you tried to speak coherently.

"I'm sorry, darling," Hoseok sighed, genuine guilt in his tone.

Instead of saying anything, you nuzzled your head against his chest in response, inhaling the smell of mint and cotton, the scent calming you down. Hoseok chuckled, placing soft kisses all over your head. As he spoke sweet nothings into your ears, you could feel his heartbeat, the rhythm making you feel safe and secure in his arms.

"Do you remember the day we first met, my love?"

You nodded to his deep, gravelly voice and let out a small, shaky laugh at the memory.

Although your meeting wasn't a very conventional moment, you had held the story near and dear to your heart.

It was a summer evening, the soft breeze finally coming in and cooling down the hot air from the day. You spent this night at one of your "friend of a friend"'s infamous house parties, where everyone went batshit crazy and got wasted. It wasn't typically your scene, but you got the invite personally from Seokjin and it was quite an honor to get one, so with an inflated ego you decided to dress up and go.

Your best friend, Jungkook, would've agreed to go with you in a heartbeat, but that night he had a road trip he planned with his brother.

So with Jungkook's pro tips on house parties and what to do when you meet a creep, you decided to venture this event alone, promising him you'd tell him all the stories you were able to remember.

You weren't sure why you weren't afraid to go alone, but it was one of those unexplainable things where you just felt like you had to. After all, you were almost done with college and you told yourself that there should be at least one time where you went crazy as well, finally not caring about being cautious and instead letting yourself be reckless.

Of course you had known about Hoseok beforehand, through a few small whispers and mentions occasionally. All you knew about him was that he was one of Seokjin's best friends and that he apparently was good in bed. You payed no mind to it, as you weren't on to judge and you didn't really care about a complete stranger's life.

At the party, with the music booming and pulsing throughout the house, you had stolen an occasional glance or two from him. He flashed a couple smirks and winks at you, causing you to immediately avert your eyes and return your attention back on whatever you had in your cup. Eventually, he disappeared, and left you alone with your own thoughts sprinting around your head, as you wondered why someone random had gotten you so worked up.

You didn't know how long it took for you to finally stand up from the couch. But noticing how red your face had gotten, you decided that it would be a good idea to freshen up before anyone could see how flustered you had gotten over a simple wink.

When you finally reached the bathroom, pushing past intoxicated people and horny couples, you felt the air return to your chest as you finally got space. The door was closed, a small line of the bathroom light peeking out. You knocked on the door one, two, three times, and yet there was no answer. In response, you heard a few groans and some soft muttering. You stared at the door with wide eyes, thinking about what was going on behind the piece of wood standing in your way.

Being the nosy person you are, you felt inclined to press your ear on the door.

"You know we can't do this anymore," The statement was stern, yet the voice was deep and husky, the words almost coming out in taunts rather than warnings.

"Hoseok," You heard a girl whine in response, making you feel uncomfortable and almost made you feel guilty for eavesdropping, "Why not? You know I love you-"

"We broke up three months ago, Luna. Might I remind you that you cheated on me?" The comeback made you put a hand over your mouth to hide the gasp you oh so desperately wanted to let out, "Can you get over it?"

You heard shuffling and pondered if Hoseok was heading towards the door, but your own drowsy mind didn't really let you process the thought.

"Hoseok, I was drunk-"

The steps came to a stop.

"You still fucked my friend, didn't you?"

The situation was inappropriate, but you imagined what Hoseok looked like behind the door. The bathroom lighting most likely highlighted the slight sheen of sweat on his tan skin, and his hair was probably tousled messily from tugging at strands in frustration. Maybe his arms were crossed, accentuating his biceps, making them look bigger than before. Maybe his eyes were sharper than usual, an intense glare shooting at whoever was in front of him.

You took a small gulp and realized that you were holding your breath, making your whole body heat up. So this was one of the many wonders of alcohol. Or maybe it was just you and your vivid imagination. Either way you blamed your new attraction to Hoseok on the alcohol.

"But, Hoseok!" The girl pleaded, "You're not dating anyone, are you? Neither am I! Please... Give me one more chance."

Silence.

"Hoseok, don't you love me?"

"Luna-"

"You still do, don't you?" Confidence seemed to come back to her, "You can't deny it. So why can't we start over?"

"Fuck off. You're really not the same person to me anymore and it makes me laugh that you think this low of me."

"Hoseok, I promise I can change!"

You pressed your body closer to the door, even though it wouldn't help. Your heart pounded rapidly against your chest, your ears hanging on to every second as you waited for another killer response from Hoseok.

It was silent.

All of sudden, the door clicked open, causing you to fall forward with a loud yelp. Hoseok caught you in his arms, holding you tightly and helping you steady yourself. Luna, his ex-girlfriend, stared at you with wide eyes, and her shock slowly turned into anger. Your shorts had slightly ridden up, and the loose sweater you had on slid down a bit, just barely showing off some skin. Even if you hadn't noticed, it was apparent that Hoseok had his eyes on you, scanning your body as he held you in his arms.

Your eyes met his, and you finally got a clear look at him. His tan skin, the sharp eyes you were imagining, and the way his lips looked so soft. Your mouth was slightly agape and Hoseok couldn't help but think you were the cutest thing in the world. He knew that you had been staring at him, and it would be a lie if he said that he didn't want to talk to you.

You didn't know why, but all of a sudden Hoseok's lips curved upwards and spread into a big grin.

"I can't be with you anymore, Luna," He looked over at her, "You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

Hoseok helped you stand up and he wrapped an arm around your waist. You blinked, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you truly tried to process what exactly was going on.

"This is my girlfriend!" He said, his aggressive already leaving, "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Um, yes, I am... that," You stuttered, attempting to play along.

Before Luna could question anything, like how the two of you didn't really know each other's names and had no clue about each other's personal lives, Hoseok quickly greeted her goodbye and dragged you over to Seokjin's huge backyard. He led you to a small table on the cobblestone, gently placing you down on a chair. He walked off to grab two cups of water, one for and one for him.

"I'm sorry about all that," He chuckled, "It made you quite uncomfortable, didn't it?"

The situation and the cool night breeze from outside had somewhat sobered you up, allowing you to actually speak cohesive statements.

"Oh, you're fine," You responded, "I pretend to be Jungkook's girlfriend whenever he needs me to, so it's really no big deal."

"You know, Kook?" His eyes seemed to light up, and you nodded, "I love that kid! He’s crazy, isn’t he?”

"Yeah,” You shook your head, thinking about Jungkook and all his antics, “We’ve been friends since high school."

"Ah, you must be Y/N then, right?" He said, cocking his head to the right in curiosity, "Kook's mentioned you once or twice when I hang out with you. He says you're, like, really smart."

"Oh, really?" You respond, fidgeting with the fabric of your sweater.

"Mhm!" Hoseok's tone had quickly turned playful, "I'm Hoseok, by the way."

"I know," Now, it was you chuckling, "You and Seokjin are really popular with the girls."

"Oh," He flashed a sheepish smile, earning him another laugh from you, "That's quite embarrassing, no?"

You had long forgotten your need to relieve yourself in the bathroom, now choosing to spend the rest of your time with your new friend, Hoseok.

And that moment, in the dark, summer night, Hoseok saw you smile, the strings of fairy lights in Seokjin's backyard lighting your face, and he felt his whole world collapse down on him.

As the days passed, Hoseok found himself drawn to you. There wasn't a day where he wouldn't call out to you and promptly came running when he saw you on campus. People thought it was strange, seeing him talk to some random girl, and you had to admit it was hard to handle Hoseok's energy at times. He attracted so many people to him, and they often gave you weird looks, examining you and wondering why Hoseok wanted to associate himself with you.

It definitely took a while before his friends even approved of your friendship let alone the relationship that would slowly bloom in front of everyone's eyes.

Even though it was difficult at times to keep up with Hoseok, the more you got to know him, the more you became attached. You wanted to know everything about him, wanted to see him and be there for him at his best times and at his worst times. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you desperately yearned to know about his family, to know what he was like when no one was around. Was he as cheerful as he usually is? Does he have a mean bone in his body?

You couldn't describe it, but the way your chest fluttered and the way your face was fixed in a permanent smile whenever you were around him seemed to say it for you. You were in deeper than you wanted to.

But still, you couldn’t but find yourself drawn to him as well.

Jung Hoseok, the man who always bought you random drinks from the vending machine whenever you were studying and wrote cute little notes on the bottles to motivate you. Hoseok, the man who would text you jokes at random times of the day simply because they made him laugh and he wanted to share them with you, who’d call you late at night because he “didn’t know how to do simple math” and end up talking to you late into the early morning. The man who always seemed to know whenever you were down, the man who could read your emotions more than Jungkook, your own best friend, could. At times, Hoseok seemed to know more about you than you knew about yourself.

He made sure he was there for all of your ups and downs, and you made sure you were there for him too. There wasn't a moment when you'd be stressed out over something and he wouldn't immediately come to your dorm with ice cream and movies the two of you could watch. Jung Hoseok, in every aspect, was such a caring person, and he always made sure that you were okay. Even when you didn't ask to, he'd check up on you and spend as much time with you as he could.

Of course you had always wondered why he had been so nice to you, and to that response Jungkook would roll his eyes and say:

"Hoseok likes you, dumbass," He'd flick your forehead as he teased you, "He literally looks at you like you’re his whole world. Are you that stupid to not see it?"

Almost everyone in your new found friend group knew, as they also gave suggestive, teasing looks to Hoseok when the two of you were together. You had always ignored these, opting to keep your attention on him instead of his friends. You hoped that Hoseok liked you as much as you liked him, since you found yourself being more and more attracted to him the more you hung out with him. (And you hung out with a lot).

It wasn't a surprise that when Hoseok finally asked you out on a date, you leaped into his arms with a grin from ear to ear.

When Jungkook found out, he couldn't help but rub your own achievements in your face, telling you that he was right and that you should've listened to him.

But that didn't matter if you were right and wrong when you were dating Hoseok.

Now, after all those years, the two of you lay in your shared king bed in your own house. You realize just how far the two of you have gotten, and you can't help but feel thankful that it's Hoseok you get to spend the rest of your life with.

And Hoseok feels the same way. He's more than excited to be able to see you like this every night, where you're safe and secure in his arms.

"I remember seeing you for the very first time," He clicked his tongue, deep in thought after the two of you reminisced on how you met, "The first thing I said to myself was that if I could ever have the chance of dating you, I'd be the luckiest man alive."

"Bullshit," You teased, now making him pout, "There's no way you really felt that way, especially if we had just met."

"You don't believe me, beautiful?" His pet names were honey to your ears, "Ah, my dear, why would I ever lie to you?"

"...So you're saying you believed in love at first sight?"

"Baby, I know it was love at first sight," He pinched your cheek as he spoke, eyes turning soft as he stared at your face, "Did you not feel that way when you first saw me?"

Hoseok knew he said the right thing when he finally saw his favorite red shades tinting your cheeks.

"Oh- Well, I just-" You groaned, hiding your face in his chest, "You can't just do that!"

Hoseok laughed, your stutters vibrating against his skin. His laughter reverberated around your ears, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

After that, the two of you talked about anything and everything. Hoseok would sprinkle little jokes or comments in order to get you to laugh at him and make fun of him. There was nothing but love exuding from the two of you, the tension in the room fully disappearing and becoming replaced with the happiness from before.

Hoseok often wonders how he did it, how he's able to be with someone like you. Saying that he was blessed to have you would be an understatement in his eyes. In fact, he'd say it was even an injustice. There truly weren't nearly enough words in the dictionary to describe his love and gratefulness for you.

But Hoseok didn't exactly know what word to use, so unfortunately, he had to stick with those.

Sometimes, Hoseok thinks it about it so much that he gets into his own head.

It's the moments where he stays scarily quiet, where his eyes are focused on you as doubts run around rampantly in his mind. He's so worried that one day you'll look at him and think that he's not enough for you, that he's not worth spending your life with. He'll think that he's really not enough for you and that thought will engrave itself so deep into his head that it'll occupy him with every waking moment. It'll be hard for him to look you in the eye. He'll still be close to you but it'll be hard for him to give you the affection that he wants so badly to give.

Then he feels stupid for feeling this way, because if you thought he wasn't good for you, you would've been gone already, right? Hoseok thinks that he should be giving you all his love, not worrying about being enough for you. This makes him feel worse, which in turn buries the thought deeper and deeper in his mind, up to the point where he can't find an escape. He'll feel his world plummet, the palette of his pink-shaded universe darkening.

That's when he feels your hand on his, where he'll realize that he's been staring blankly into open space for God knows how long.

The sound of his name on your lips will ring in his ear, oh how he loves to hear it. Hoseok feels the pace of his heartbeat speed up rapidly, faster than he'd like to admit. His cheeks are warm, and it almost makes him laugh how easy it is for you to get him all riled up.

You'll stare at him for a while, your eyes slowly trailing down onto his lips. Hoseok hangs on to every second in this moment, watching you as you examine his face. He knows that you probably know what's going on in his mind, and for that he feels a little guilty. He hopes that he isn't burden, and he opens his mouth to apologize.

When his lips part, however, you take this chance to kiss him, grabbing his hands and putting them on your waist. Hoseok gets the message, chuckling in between lip locking and pulling you close to him, eagerly roaming every inch of your skin that he could get his hands on.

He's pulled out of the dark headspace, now only surrounded by your love and the feeling of your soft lips. All of his attention is back on you and he melts, feeling nothing but tender love from you.

And when the two of you finally pull away, your eyes are trained on each other, chests heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath.

Hoseok just knows that you want to tell him words of comfort when he gets like this. He knows that because of the way your eyes sadden whenever he gets quiet. He sees how it unnerves you, how you bite your lip when you're also deep in thought. The gears are turning around viciously in your head as you try to find the words to say.

You hesitate to speak and Hoseok can't help but find it cute as you sputter out nonsense. He knows you're not the best with your words, and that's completely okay. He knows that you worry about not saying the right thing around him, but Hoseok always reminds you that there's not much you could say to get him upset. But still, you're focused as you try to find what would be perfect to say in this situation.

So Hoseok waits patiently, adoring how your cheeks slowly turn redder and redder while you awkwardly try to give him verbal solace.

"Seokie..." You call him that when you're especially flustered, "You know I love you, right?"

He nods in response, a stupid grin on his face quickly forming.

"And do you love me?"

"Of course I do."

"Good," You giggle, "Let's keep it that way."

And then there it is. The moment Hoseok's been waiting for. The moment he's been waiting for his whole entire life.

Your bright smile, lightening up the darkest of his days. He feels awestruck, his regained breath quickly leaving his chest once more. Hoseok's world is stained pink, the sight of your smile making him melt on the spot. His loving gaze, in turn, causes you to heat up and giggle.

That's when Hoseok realizes that he's been worried about nothing after all. That you're perfect for him and he's perfect for you. That nothing else feels right to him except for you.

Hoseok sees the way you smile at him, sees the way your eyes twinkle back at him, and he can't help but fall more and more in love with you.

And as per your request, Hoseok will keep it that way.

He'll keep it that way for as long as he lived.

hope you guys liked it! take care my loves <3

#hoseok #hoseok fluff #hoseok oneshot #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fanfic #hoseok drabble #bts hoseok fluff #jhope bts #hoseok fanfiction

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presleepthoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Purpose - Part 2

A/N: Next chapter.

Beca dragged her feet along the corridors, heading towards her office the next day. Her mind had been working overtime since yesterday, thinking about ways to get rid of the journalist that had been assigned to follow her around like a puppy. Watching her every step. And Beca didn’t like that.

Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t have a problem with Chloe – if Beca actually took the time to get to know her she’d probably turn out to be a good person – but the feeling that she was being judged, criticized in any way didn’t sit well with her. Chloe was a journalist. She was trained to make stories interesting, make them dramatic and truthful. What if she made a mistake and it would be plastered all over on the newspaper, looming over her head for the rest of her carrier? She would be forever labeled wherever she went.

She sneered at the thought and pushed it to the back of her mind. She knew she was being paranoid; a trait she always had a hard time controlling.

It was earlier than usual, Beca kind of hoped she would get to spend the morning alone, getting herself ready for the day but those hopes were squished when she pushed open her doors, finding Chloe already sitting on the couch, snipping a beverage. Beca slightly haltered in her steps but regained her composer and greeted her politely. An extra coffee cup was waiting for her on her desk.

“I didn’t know if you drink coffee or not but I thought maybe you’d like it?” Chloe explained softly when Beca remained silent. The detective exhaled through her nose and grudgingly accepted the offering.

“Thanks.” She added shortly and sat down at the desk, grabbing some files on the surface ready to start working.

Their day seemed to drag along slowly with nothing much happening. Beca finished her paperwork while Chloe asked questions back and forth. The detective didn’t mind it as much as she thought she would, until the questions turned personal.

“Why did you want to become a detective?” The question was innocent enough to Chloe, who didn’t bother to glance up from her notes, patiently waiting for an answer. When Beca wasn’t forgoing with one, she lifted her gaze with curiosity as she saw Beca’s expression glaze over in thoughts.

The reason behind her decision to join the department was the one she was most protective over. Not many people knew her past and she’d like to keep it that way. Not have somebody print it out on paper for anybody to see.

“For personal reasons.” She answered sharply, her tone indicating she wouldn’t be answering that question at the moment.

Chloe titled her head slightly in wonder, eyes piercing into Beca’s while the brunette avoided the connections. The journalist could sense the uneasiness ooze from the detective so she pivoted the conversation.

“Do you mind if I film you for this portion of the interview?”

Beca sighed and nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Chloe hit the camera icon on her phone and raised it to her eye line, making sure Beca was in focus.

“You graduated from The Connecticut Police Academy, right? Why did you decide to come back to your hometown?”

Beca narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “How do you know so much about me?”

“I did my homework, Detective Mitchell.” Chloe smiled friendly. “You have a very impressive resume. After college you spent three years in NYPD then went to Michigan then transferred to right here, Jackson, Georgia and spent three years at the local police station before certifying as a detective to the FBI. Why did you come back to such a small town?”

Beca sat tongue-tied, leaning back against the back of her chair as Chloe listed her whole life. She didn’t realize the journalist would dig up anything she could find out about her. Chloe zoomed in on the detective’s face.

Beca took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I was born here but left when I was sixteen. I never looked back once but after spending so much time in different places I wanted something familiar. This is the town I grew up in. It also didn’t hurt that I know it like the back of my hand.”

“Why did you leave at sixteen?” Chloe asked.

Beca clenched her jaw and hardened her gaze at the memory. “I had to. The system found me a foster family in South Carolina.”

Chloe’s eyes rounded in surprise at the admission and she unconsciously lowered the camera slightly while Beca chuckled humorlessly at the reaction.

“What? You didn’t know that, huh? It looks like you weren’t thorough enough with your research, Ms. Beale.”

Chloe inhaled sharply at the jab. She sensed the topic of foster care was a nerve so she didn’t push for the time being. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And please call me Chloe. We’ll be spending too much time together for you to keep calling me Ms. Beale.” She said softly and discreetly wrote down foster care on her notepad before looking back up. “Let’s continue.”

After two hours of conversation and a light lunch, the phone finally rang loudly in the office calling Beca to the west side of the village for a crime scene. They popped into a vehicle and sped down the streets. As the car rounded the corner, Chloe straightened up in her seat as several police cars, paramedics and the FBI were seen parking on the street in front of a typically standard two-stories home. Yellow police tape barricaded the scene from onlookers, probably neighbors who were curious about what was happening.

Beca parked the car at the curb and they exited the car, the detective walking slightly in front of Chloe and showed her badge to the local police to let her through.

As they stepped inside the building, Beca spotted Jesse walking towards them.

“Hey, what you got?” She asked and Jesse pointed to the staircase.

“Suicide. At least that’s what the police say but I thought I gave you a call and let you take a look.” They walked up to the master bedroom. Beca noted that the room was spotless, nothing out of place or out of ordinary. However, upon arriving at the en-suite bathroom Beca winced at the sight that greeted her.

A pale, Caucasian woman spread out naked in the bathtub, arms resting on the edge and blood still slipping from both of her wrist from two deep cuts. The water around her painted red and the shower curtains laying at their feet on the floor. Beca noticed the mirror above the sink were shattered.

Chloe inched her way closer and looked over the detectives’ shoulders. She felt her stomach launch slightly at the disturbing sight but she swallowed it down and pulled out her phone to record.

Beca talked to Jesse while she stepped inside the small space and examined the body further. “Do you have an ID?” The woman’s upper body were visible from the water and Beca didn’t see any bruising, only on her forehead.

“Helena Jones. 41. Her ex-husband found her an hour ago and notified the police.” Jesse listed as he and Chloe watched Beca look around.

“You said the police think it’s suicide.” Beca said while pulling a glove out from her jean pocket and putting it on, opening the medicine cabinet. She found anti-depressant and pills for anxiety inside but it didn’t alter her thoughts.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think it was self-harm.” She stated and turned back to Jesse, closing the cabinet and pointing to the broken mirror. “If she wanted to die, why would she break the window with her head before she slit her wrists? Why not just sit down in the tub and do it?”

Jesse shook his head. “Maybe she was angry with herself for having these thoughts and wanted to stop it. Clearly she was unstable.”

Beca bit the inside of her cheek and lingered on the woman lifeless body. Something didn’t seem right. “We have to bring in the ex-husband for questioning. Tell the team to swipe the entire house from top to bottom and let’s see if they found something. I have a hunch this was way too obvious. The pills for mental health, the slit wrists, the position.” Beca shook her head. “For some reason it feels too staged for me.”

“Got it.” Jesse replied and left the two women to give the police instructions.

Chloe stepped inside cautiously.

“Do you think it was murder?” She whispered quietly.

“I don’t know but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s no evidence of another person being involved but we can’t rule out anything until the autopsy results. That’ll tell us what happened.” Beca said, looking at the redhead.

When they arrived back at the station, Jesse already had the ex-husband set up in an interrogation room, ready to be questioned. The trio stood behind the two-way glass, observing the man sitting behind the table.

“He’s oddly calm.” Jesse commented, seeing the man with his hands intertwined on top of the table, gazing before him, zoned out. “He just found his ex-wife dead inside the bathtub. I would be a freaking out.”

“Let’s leave the analysis to the shrinks, Swanson. We have no reason to believe he was the one who did it as of yet so let’s just go in there and learn something new.” Beca demanded sternly as she turned to the redhead behind her. “You stay here and observe him. Maybe you’ll see something we’d miss.”

Chloe swallowed down her protest and tensely nodded her head. She knew it was hopeless to argue with the seemingly stubborn detective and simply closed her mouth and pulled out her phone to capture anything.

Jesse opened the door, letting Beca step in before him as they both took their seat silently before Thomas Pierce. The man sat with his intertwined hands on the table, eyes bouncing back and forth between the detectives with a tense grimace.

“Look, I know my rights. You can’t investigate me as a suspect without proper evidence and you can’t hold me here.”

“Mr. Pierce, you are not accused of anything. We just want to know what happened to your ex-wife. That’s all.” Jesse started out, explaining their motives in a calm tone as saw the man visibly relax and leaned forward.

“Now according to the police report, you were the one who notified the police, correct?” Beca opened up the file in front of her, pretending to read it out meanwhile she already memorized every last detail about the case. She needed to give the man a false sense of certainty to unconsciously pull the truth out from him.

“Yes.” Mr. Pierce answered quickly not elaborating.

“What were you doing in your ex-wife’s apartment that day?”

Mr. Pierce glanced between the pair. “I went there to pick up the rest of my stuff that I left from the move. We separated not long ago. When she didn’t answer my calls, I went upstairs to the bedroom and found her in the bathtub. And I called the police.”

Beca squinted her eyes at the explanation. “I understand your divorce was a long drawn out process. You were in and out of the courtroom for four years, battling over the custody of your three children.”

Mr. Pierce grinded his teeth as he stiffened at the mention of his kids. “I gained full custody for all three but Lena didn’t make it easy. She pulled out all her cards against me and poured out my dirty laundry in front of the judge. But in the end, it didn’t matter because the judge declared her unreliable to take care of them because of her… mental problems. She had the audacity to call me a deadbeat father.” Mr. Pierce growled out. “I wasn’t the one who tried to kill myself three times while my children were in the house.”

Jesse leaned forward. “You sound angry.”

“I was! She had the nerve to try and fight me for my children while she was the one who cheated.” Mr. Pierced exploded but taking in the unchanged reactions in front of him, he regained his posture. “That was the main reason we got separated.”

Beca glanced at Jesse, silently communicating with her partner before focusing on the man before her.

“I have one last question, Mr. Pierce. Did your wife had any enemies? Anybody that wanted to – I don’t know, take revenge on her?” Beca asked, eyes piercing into his as she tried to catch any sight of indication he was lying.

“Not that I know of…outside of the house, she was a very nice woman.” Mr. Pierce said, shaking his head. “Inside the house was where she had problems.”

“Okay, what are we thinking?” Jesse spoke out as he closed the door behind him. Chloe pocketed her phone as the three of them watched the man through the one-way mirror as he leaned back into his chair and constantly checked his watch on his wrist.

Beca wracked her brain for anything to give them a lead but came up empty. She crossed her arms over her chest and addressed the redhead beside her.

“Chloe, what do you think?”

Chloe stared the woman in surprise, not thinking she was going to ask for her opinion. She noticed Beca liked to work inside her head, planning out her every move before she informed her partner. Chloe glanced back at the suspect and bit her bottom lip.

“He didn’t show any sign that he was lying. He didn’t cross his arms or leaned away from you which would be a sure indicator but he maintained eye-contact and his tone didn’t falter at any point. He showed anger instead of fright which suggest he wasn’t intimidated and that he didn’t have nothing to hide. He answered honestly and didn’t try to dodge any of the questions.” Chloe listed off her observation without waver. “I don’t think he did it.”

The detective pair slowly turned their heads toward the woman, eyes rounded from shock. Chloe self-consciously shifted on her feet.

“What? I have a master in Phycology.”

Beca bobbed her head, impressed. “You keep surprising me.”

“I have a lot of talent you don’t know about, Detective Mitchell.” Chloe replied back, her tone dangerously dancing on the edge of flirtatious as Beca eyes bore into hers.

Jesse flickered his gaze back and forth between them like a tennis match, red flags appearing in front of his sight warning him of danger. But before he could break up the moment, Beca’s cellphone beeped loudly from her pocket.

“Jenna is finished with the autopsy. It’s time we finally got some answers.” Beca summarized the text message and pocketed her phone, strolling determinedly toward the department, the other two hot on her heels.

“What did you find?” Beca called out as soon as they stepped over the threshold of the sterilized room, Jenna Watson the FBI’s pathologist were hovering over the deceased woman’s naked body. No matter how many times she saw a corpse, Beca couldn’t help but feel her stomach whirl in disgust at the sight. Something about it looking like a sleeping person didn’t sit well with her.

Chloe tried to conceal her reaction to seeing the body opting to staying far away from the table it was place upon.

“Detective Mitchell, Swanson. Great to see you both. Although, not under the right circumstances.” Jenna commented as the three gathered around the table, eyes roaming over the surface. Jenna cleaned the outer regions of blood on her wrists and covered the victim from the waist down.

“Enlighten me.” Beca spoke out sarcastically, not having her usual sense of humor to make jokes of the situation.

Jenna quickly turned serious and pointed to the cut on her forehead. “You said the mirror was broken in the bathroom. Well, I wouldn’t say it was self-inflected. Some strands of hair were missing from the back of her scalp and I predict the suspect must’ve grabbed her from behind and smashed her into the mirror. However, there’s no further signs of evidence of self-defense, no bruising, no marks, nothing which is strange.”

“The husband said she wanted to kill herself. Maybe that’s why she didn’t fight.” Jesse suggested but Chloe shook her head.

“Self-conflicted harm and harm by somebody else is different. When she wanted to die, she was in control of her actions; she knew what to do and when to do it. With somebody else doing it for her, the strongest form of human nature flair to life which wants to live. Even without knowing it, she would’ve fought back.”

Jenna glanced at the newcomer raising her eyebrows. “Exactly. Now I did find some anti-depressant in her blood but the amount wasn’t anything alarming to numb her body.”

Beca nodded slowly, working the knots in her mind. “Okay, so you say she was attacked.”

“Definitely.” Jenna conformed before a quick smile escaped from her expression as she pulled out a manila envelope from her desk and handed it to Beca. “She definitely didn’t do that to herself.”

Beca cautiously opened the package and pulled out two photographs. Her eyes widen in surprise before they hardened into determination as the story became a little bit clearer.

“Perfect job as always, Watson.” Beca complimented the pathologist as she handed the envelope to Jesse for keepsake. Chloe watched as Jesse had similar reaction to whatever that file contained and her curiosity grew tenfold. She couldn’t wait long enough for Jesse to hand it over to her. As her eyes took in the sight, her mouth gaped open.

The pictures contained the bare back of the victim with the letter ‘A’ carved along her spine.

TBC

#Beca x Chloe #bechloe #beca mitchell #Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale #beca mitchel x chloe beale #chloe beale #pitchperfect #Pitch Perfect #PitchPerfect2 #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #Anna Kendrick #brittany snow #beca & chloe #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe au #fbi au

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wintersweetbou · 5 years ago

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Glaiveweek 2020- Day 2. This Never Happened

Day 2 of Glaiveweek 2020! @glaiveweek

Prompt: Fun and Games- Prank Wars, Tickle Fights, Hide and Seek Warp Tag

Summary: A glitter bomb in Titus Drautos’s personal office starts a series of shenanigans never before seen in the Citadel. Eyebrows, laundry, and dignity are lost. For a moment, all hell breaks loose. Then the King walks in to check on his glaives. What he sees will never be forgotten.

Titus Drautos stretched, watching heavy raindrops spatter his window. Monday meant training with the glaives, supply forms, meeting with the king, and preparing his budget proposal for the council to approve... He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Getting the money needed to keep the glaive running was like pulling teeth out of those stingy bastards.

A boom startled the Captain into glancing down below. Lightning flashed as a bunch of newer glaives ran from the safety of the parking garage into their headquarters. The greenhorns whooped at the cold, splashing each other as they ran. The more experienced glaives warped the distance, laughing. Titus smiled, and gathered himself together. Time to address the troops.

Midmorning combat drills in the arena began with Titus circulating with critique. Nyx was quick, but needed endurance. Libertus had him panting after the first few rounds. Good team- balanced eachother out... Tredd lost his patience and was subsequently thrown by Luche into a wall. Crowe had to be repeatedly reminded that fire did not solve everything, and Pelna lost an eyebrow in her resulting demonstration that fire did indeed solve everything. The only senior members not giving Titus a headache were Axis and Sonitus- just smoothly sparring like everyone was supposed to be.

The Captain massaged his temples as a resounding boom, flash, and cut off screech filled the arena. Crowe had not only broken through Pelna’s shield, but also managed to dash him against the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious. She was at his side, checking him over apologetically. Nothing broken, aside from some pride, and a probable concussion.

“I’ll take him to the hospital. Crowe, no more magic in combat sparring! Tredd, if you don’t like the taste of dirt, change your approach! Luche, you are in charge while I’m gone. After drills, run through the warp course- focus on precision. And when we get back, meet in the briefing hall. Crownsguard wants to run security simulations in the castle- joint exercise might be good for us all.” Titus called out, after hefting the noodly Pelna in his arms.

Various murmurs of assent rose behind them as they left. Pelna came to a few minutes later, groggily settling into a seat in a crown fleet vehicle. The trip to and from the hospital was uneventful- Pelna would be fine if he took it easy, it was a mild concussion. The glaive was more embarrassed to have been carried off by his boss after passing out. The paperwork was minimal, and they were out of the hospital in no time. The glaive seemed more steady as time went on, but there was a slight wobble to his movements as they got back in the vehicle.

“I’m sorry for being a bother, thank you for the ride.” Pelna stated, eyes down as he buckled in.

“I take care of my glaives. Be thankful it is only a mild concussion” Titus stated fondly.

By lunch they were back, and Titus explained the proposed joint field exercises with the crownsguard. The glaives seemed open to the idea. The captain delegated requisition forms work to Pelna for the afternoon, and asked that Crowe check in on him every so often. With peace seemingly achieved, Titus left them to afternoon resistance training and cardio.

Crowe descended on Pelna the second the captain was out the door.

“I was out of line, I am so sorry- are you ok?”

“Mild concussion, just a bit tired. I’m ok, just don’t hit so hard, ok?”

“Yeah...I’ll check on you, no napping while concussed.” Crowe hugged him softly, smoothing his hair where it stuck up and running a finger where his left eyebrow no longer was. Pelna smiled softly, and hugged back.

“Take it easy, Khara. I’ll be up after the first rotation.” She smiled, lightly tickling him under his arms. He flinched, squeaking, and fled when her smile turned predatory. She chuckled at his swift retreat, and turned to the weight room, where the other glaives had started.

One rotation later, Crowe trotted up the stairs with a mug of tea to and down the hall to the offices, to find Pelna semi-asleep over a stack of forms and files. She smiled and slid the mug over the desk.

“Pels? Peeellls? Wake uppp…” A murmur in response.

“I brought tea, just the way you like ittt.” A grunt.

“Please? I know it's hard, and my fault, so here is my support. Wake up!” A grumbled five more minutes mom had Crowe tickling his neck. He squirmed and hiked his shoulders up, slapping lightly at her hands. She slipped a hand under his arm and dug into his pit. Pelna squealed and burst into giggles. Crowe grinned as his arms crashed down, trapping her hand there. She kept it up for just a squidge more and then stopped enough for her to get her hand back. “Awake now?” She grinned at his tired nod.

“Sorry. The lights kind of hurt my eyes, so I closed them for just a sec…” He rubbed the heels of his palms over his eyes, groaning.

“Drink the tea, and there are some energy bars left in the snack drawer. I suggest breaks. It helped me when Libertus knocked me into that rock formation a few months back...I still haven’t repaid him for that…”

“No more injuries today, Miss Altuis. Please?”

“Very well, Mister Khara. Drink, and eat. I promise no blood will be spilled by me today. But you gave me a lovely idea.” Pelna nodded tiredly and lightly sipped at the tea, letting the caffeinated warmth soak into his bones. Crowe skipped lightly back down the hall. Second rotation was about to begin, she had to hurry. Down the stairs she saw the door ajar and heard voices on the other side. Impatiently she yanked the door open and squawked as ice water drenched her, bucket settling over her head with a solid clunk. Laughter echoed throughout the weight room but stopped when they saw just who they had drenched.

Time stopped as she lifted the bucket, fire coursing through her veins. She scanned the room, looking for the guilty party. There. Libertus and Nyx, trying to look innocent for the amount of time it took for her to cross the room and lob the bucket at them.

“We weren’t trying to drench you! Tredd was being a dick, and ran to get something...We were supposed to get Tredd!” Libertus said as Tredd burst back in the room, pausing at the puddle in the doorway, and then at the sight of Crowe sopping wet, holding a giggling Nyx by the throat.

“So unprofessional. Such children. Much wow.” Tredd grinned and turned back to the machines, continuing his reps.

Crowe snarled, shaking Nyx, and released her grip on his shirt only to grab at his waist. Nyx yelped and curled in on himself laughing, just as she knew he would. She clawed into the meat under his floating ribs, earning a squeal, and followed as he sank to his knees. Crowe smirked- Nyx never could take side tickles, especially if you got your nails in there just right. Nyx squished himself forward into a tight ball, howling. She plopped down onto his back, searching for just the right angle. He thrashed weakly under her, and cried out to Libertus for help.

“C’mon, we still need him. Release.” Libertus grunted as he attempted to slip an arm around her, only to be bitten on said arm in response. Libertus jerked back hissing. Crowe found the spot she was looking for, and Nyx broke into what the internet would call ugly laughter. He screeched and pleaded for mercy between desperate guffaws.

All in the weight room were now watching the kerfuffle as Libertus struggled to pry Crowe off Nyx. Libertus was easily the strongest glaive save the captain, but she was fighting dirty- biting, kicking. Calls of encouragement to Crowe, snickers, and fond sighs echoed around the room, training forgotten. Nyx was screeching in tears when Libertus finally hauled Crowe up, only for her to twist in his grip and jab into his ribs. He cursed and folded inward for just a sec, long enough for Crowe to clamber on his back and begin blowing vicious raspberries on the back of his neck where the braids left him exposed.

“Release! Release!” Libertus roared, violently twisting to shake her off, getting desperate. Crowe never waivered, and continued as his strength waned.

“How long do you think he will last?” Tredd snickered to Luche from his perch on the rowing machine. Luche leaned against the wall, smiling as Libertus started to snort between his growls at Crowe.

“Dunno. He’s held on pretty good for a while now. Compared to some, anyway.” Luche gestured to Nyx, still panting in a ball on the floor mats.

Tredd nodded, chuckling as Libertus broke, still thrashing, into a giggling fit punctuated by snorts of random intensity. Luche stretched, glancing out the one window- the storm still raging, even stronger now, since the rain appeared to be going sideways. Tredd snorted at the scuffle, drawing Luche’s attention back to the present. Libertus tapped out and Crowe relented with a smirk, sliding off his back and landing with a laugh.

“Cardio in ten, then cooldown and then home.” Luche murmured. Tredd nodded absently, collecting his things, writing down their current weight and reps. The other glaives did the same, slowly collecting themselves and ambling toward the arena for laps and sprints.

Pelna groaned, stretching his shoulders. So much damn paperwork for such stupid things. Every little thing from weapons to office supplies to toilet paper had to be requisitioned, signed, and returned for financial approval. This fucking sucked. He rubbed his eyes, and glowered at the stack of forms, slightly smaller, but still there. The captain stomped in then, looking worse for wear.

“How was the meeting?” Pelna tried to appear chipper.

“Slow. The council wants to challenge every little bit of our budget, and the king had little to offer…” The captain said, the anger in his eyes cooling into exhaustion.

“We're in this together, we appreciate you taking care of us.” Pelna glanced up, re shuffling the stack of papers. Drautos nodded, and walked back to his private office in the back of the cubicles, lightly shutting the door. Pelna shook his head. That. That was worse than doing boring forms all day. He couldn't imagine having to argue for toilet paper and keep a straight face. He turned back to his work, but startled when a loud pop and a shout exploded from Drautos’s office. Pelna shot up in concern, hearing vicious cursing, a second pop, and what sounded like furniture being tossed around. He was halfway across the office floor when the door to the captains office flung open, revealing Drautos, disheveled, wild eyed...and covered in fine, bright pink glitter.

“Are you ok Sir?” Pelna’s jaw dropped, then closed as he took in the fury building in the captain’s eyes and frame. The captain wordlessly held up the empty glitterbomb, and pointed to his office. Pelna slowly leaned around to peer into the sparkle blasted space. From the spray, it was rigged to blow when someone opened the main desk drawer, pointed right where one would sit at a desk, chest height. The second charge coated everything else. It was everywhere.The walls, part of the ceiling,the desk, cabinets, couch...the entirety of the floor...it would never come out of the cheap industrial carpet entirely…

The captain shook himself like a dog, shedding a fair amount of pink sparkles, but as with any fine glitter, it stuck to his skin and clothes. Pelna watched in silence as the captain strode over to glare into the mirror by the small kitchenette in the corner. He snarled, and rounded on the backpedaling glaive.

“You're not the type for this kind of stupidity, Khara. Did anyone come to visit my office?” Pelna shook his head, glancing worriedly at the door. Drautos was not one for outbursts- his control was normally too strong, but the ridiculousness of the situation had worn that away.

“I don’t know who did this, but when I find out who..” Drautos grinned, all teeth.

Pelna nodded, slowly backing towards the door. It might have been the light. It might have been Pelna’s concussion messing with his sight, but with a boom of thunder the power flickered out and Drautos’s eyes glowed blood red in the dark. Pelna’s heart skipped a beat as the captain laughed, talking to himself about what he was going to do to the prankster. It was too much, the glaive backed slowly out of the offices, turning to warn the others.

The group prepared in the arena, lightly warming up. The usual three laps around the arena for a main workout, and then one lap interval sprints for max overload. Lightning flashed overhead, the carbon dome of the arena showing the storm’s fury on full display. The glaives looked up into the gale. Some sleepy, some calm, some excited, and some indifferent. But they all looked. And the power flicked out. Murmurs of surprise flicked around the group, then of concern when Pelna warped into the arena. He staggered with the landing- stupid to warp while concussed- but he looked like a man on a mission.

“Drautos is coming! Whoever in the mother of fuck did it needs to run for their lives- stat!”

“Who did what?” Luche steadied the teetering glaive, putting an arm around him for stability.

“Who did what indeed, my glaives…” Drautos rumbled from the hallway entrance. There was a collective intake of breath at the sight of the captain of the kingsglaive plastered in pink glitter prowling along the edge of the arena. The newer glaives choked back grins, and the more experienced glaives barely held back dropped jaws. Pranking each other was one thing- a common occurrence even!- but glittering the captain? Unthinkable. Until now.

“Since nothing is sacred, the afternoon cardio session will be different from the usual. I want the prankster. Until I get a name, we are going to play a little game.” The glaives dared not to move as their captain circled, grinning with no mirth. No one said a word as Drautos spun, shedding sparkles like a murderous Tinkerbell, typing in a long string of numbers into a security keypad. The building shuddered slightly, and red emergency lights flicked on every so often. Enough to see by, but not enough to see well. Lockdown.

“Sir?...” Libertus began in concern, but was cut off by a laugh.

“Lockdown, as you know, means that the doors to the outside are shuttered and barred, as are the windows, and passageways to the rest of the citadel. We are locked in. There is just the domed arena, and the facilities in the corners- the offices to the north, barracks in the east, armory in the south, and holding cells in the west... I want a name.”

The glaives glanced at each other nervously. Pelna looked at the most rambunctious glaives- Nyx, Tredd, Libertus, Crowe, Luche...all had the wild eyes of kids being blamed for something they didn't do. The others peered into the darkness, innocence on their sleeves. Pelna’s brow furrowed. Who the fuck did it?

“Until I get a name, we will be playing unfair hide and seek. For the next two hours, I will seek- and drag those I catch into the holding cells. Those who are caught will run laps and polish the armory for the next week.” A communal gulp spread through the soldiers.

“Those of you who manage to remain free will have no punishment. If I get a name, all get off free and we forget this happened.” The group inhaled and steeled themselves. Nobody had a name to give, or had the balls to speak up.

“Very well...you have two hours.” Drautos slid his phone out, set an alarm, slid it back in, and growled at his glaives.

“One, two, three…” He slapped a palm over his eyes and snarled.

Reality shimmered in the arena as all glaives present warped away at once, in a wave of effervescent fire, with an incredulous captain angrily counting to one hundred in the epicenter. The fleeing soldiers fanned out once out of hearing range. Pairs or trios of friends slipped into the gloom together, hoping to hide out, or have the option to sell eachother out. Nervous energy crackled in the dark between the red emergency lights. Where to hide? Who would get caught first? Excitement tinged the anxiety, and grins flashed in the maroon glow.

Pelna staggered down the southeast hallway- warping while concussed was awful, but doable. He glanced left- a pair of glaives scampering into the armory- Nyx and Libertus. The armory had crates of gear, weapon racks, a cargo bay, supplies....stacks of things to hide in or behind...not a bad idea. Three glaives slipped him on his right, headed towards the barracks. The barracks was the obvious choice for any seeker to start- rows of lockers, cots spread in small groups, little clusters of couches and tables. Not many glaives used the barracks often, it was just a spot to crash and heal between deployments, or for new recruits who hadn't any outside lodging arranged yet. Rent was fucking cheap, and so was the food brought in from the keep’s kitchens. Pelna stayed a month once, when he first started. It worked.

An arm wrapped around his waist, and Pelna jolted back to reality, barely managing to restrain the punch to Crowe’s now grinning mouth. She pulled him into the shadows as a panicked shape skittered past. She held a finger against her lips, and pointed upwards. Pipes and vents ran the length of the hallway ceiling, supplying heat, air and water to the facilities. He raised his surviving eyebrow. There wasn't enough room for her to squeeze up there, let alone him, or that the air vents probably would not take their weight. She tugged him along, to the doorway to the armory, and pointed up again. He grinned- the main vent widened and dropped lower as it snaked into the armory. There was enough room for someone to curl up there in the darkness against the ceiling, definitely Crowe, probably Pelna. But both? Not without some severe cuddling. She dropped her stance, hooking her fingers together, gesturing to boost him up. His eyes widened, and he started to shake his head, but approaching footsteps quashed his thoughts. He stepped up, and jumped, boosted by Crowe. Pelna hauled himself up quickly, and slid into the shallow, low space. He spun, listening intently. He heard a grunt, and then grunted himself as Crowe popped up and tucked herself into his chest cavity. He held back a noise of surprise as she pressed her face into his neck, making herself comfortable. Or as comfortable as anyone was going to get wedged between a vent and drywall. The skittish steps passed as a lone glaive darted into the armory. They relaxed.

“How did you know about this spot?” Pelna whispered.

“Growing up with Nyx and Libs taught me to find little nooks to hide in. Perfect spot to snipe paintballs from.” Crowe breathed, and Pelna felt her feral grin against his throat.

“Still. How did you know we would both fit?”

“Promise not to tell?” He promised.

“Perfect napping spot. If you go to the office doorway, the hot air return is above the door. I've got a bit of canvas so my skin doesn’t stick to the metal, and some blankets up there. It's heaven.” She smiled.

“That sounds like heaven. Can I steal a nap or two up there?” Pelna breathed.

“Sure, as long as you leave snacks as tribute, and keep the secret..” He nodded.

The door below them to the armory crashed open. His arms slipped around her in shock, holding her close, both holding their breath, listening hard. They couldn’t see, but they could imagine.

“Here I am, glaives! Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Drautos called out into the dark armory. Silence greeted the captain, but he knew better. He grinned, settling into the game. He wanted to play with his glaives, a little mind game could give him a name faster as their nerves failed. He growled into the gloom, stalking around the edges, looking for disturbed gear and boxes. Nyx watched from his perch laying flat on the roof of a transport van. The captain was sticking to the upper armory, tapping on storage crates, Nyx was safe for the moment. As long as the captain didn’t come and check the spare vehicles by the loading dock…

The captain's snarl forced his attention back to the present, and Nyx trembled minutely. Drautos was almost to Lib’s crate- he had stuffed himself in an empty weapons crate, the only kind big enough for him to squeeze into. The captain continued along the row, tapping some, opening others….Nyx gripped the van’s roof rails tight. He was almost there. Two crates away. One crate. Libs!

A choked sneeze echoed through the armory as Drauto’s hand descended towards the crate. The new recruit that slipped in at the last minute. He had dove behind a stack of crates by the door just as Nyx clambered up the van. Drautos grinned madly, teeth shining in the red light. The internal screaming was palpable from all parties but the captain, who personally favored evil glee. Nyx winced at the short scuffle. The captain had the new recruit in cuffs and out the door in under a minute.

Hearing the two sets of steps pass, one steady, the other not so, Nyx peeped over the van roof. He hopped down, and ran as quietly as he could to Libertus. He tapped the lid, just like they used to do in their treefort back in Galahad before it all burned. Libertus cracked the lid slowly, then opened it fully at the sight of Nyx grinning like a madman.

“He almost had you! He was right here! If that newbie hadn’t sneezed!” Nyx whisper-gushed.

“What if he comes back? Get back up there!” Came the whisper-shouted reply.

“It’s fine! It’ll take at least five minutes to lock up the newb and get back here. We have to stretch when we can. How comfy is that box anyway?” Nyx looked at Libertus, all crammed down in that cube crate.

“My neck is killing me, but I’m good. Now hide! If we get caught cuz of you…!”

Twin shadows darted into the armory, and Nyx jumped into the crate with Libertus without a second thought. It didn't quite work though- Nyx was now straddling a kneeling Libertus, their legs stuck solid against the sides of the crate, arms steadying each other. Nyx felt Libertus vibrate in silent fury, and he struggled not to laugh at the entire situation.

The shadows paused, and stepped closer to the struggling pair. As they passed an e-light, their identity was revealed.

Tredd snapped a pic with his phone, and did his best not to make any noise while laughing his ass off. Luche wheezed into a fist, trying desperately not to collapse at the sight. They gestured wildly at each other- Nyx waving happily, Tredd curling his hands into a heart in response, Luche pointing at the space under a nearby weapons rack, Nyx giving a thumbs up, and Libertus flipping everyone off. Luche slid under the rack and Tredd hid under a coat rack packed with old cloaks behind the doorway- after helping get the lid over the now officially stuck pair of galahdians in a box.

Crowe and Pelna could partially see and hear all of the shitshow that happened next. The fact that their screams and laughing fits escaped notice was a miracle. It was fast, maybe two minutes, but the Citadel would never forget the moment when all dignity was lost. Time slowed, yet sped up at the same time. Like a demonic Rube-Goldberg machine on crack with yakety- sax playing in the background.

Drautos returned to the armory with a sense that others were still hiding there. He threw the door open and bounded in. The door flew wide open and hit a pile of cloaks- something supposedly soft- with a painful clonk and a groan. Something on the far side choked on a giggle, and something close by it thumped in place. Drautos grinned, and advanced into the room uncaring of the poor glaive behind the door. He listened hard, and a large crate in the middle thumped again. The captain braced himself and popped the lid. Then all hell broke loose.

Libertus shrieked and flailed, tipping the crate over on its side with Nyx cackling wildly plastered up against him. Drautos roared in surprise, then roared in laughter as he realized two of his finest were hopelessly stuck. Tredd launched out of his hiding spot with all the grace and glory of a boosted turkey, sprinting out the door and taking the coat rack with him. Luche gave up on life and howled with laughter, clutching his ribs. And Drautos? He showed why he was captain.

In a mad dash that would be immortalized in glaive mythos forever, Drautos hauled his crate of glaives over one shoulder, snatched Luche and slung him over the other, sprinting after the sentient panicking coat rack. The captain dropped Luche, gathered every ounce of his strength and yeeted Libertus and Nyx, screaming, at the running pile of cloth. Tredd made it to the edge of the arena before he was blasted with the box-shaped force of several hundred pounds worth of galahdian hysteria. The cloth and soft training floor absorbed the worst of the blow, the glaives landing in a tangled mess of limbs and cloaks.

Drautos, dragging Luche by the leg, jogged over to admire his work, Luche now sobbing with helpless laughter. The captain gently plopped Luche down with the others and planted a boot on the crate, looking down at his soldiers. Nyx was in much the same state as Luche. Libertus hissed and spat like a cat, frantically trying to claw his way out of the crate. Tredd laid there like a slug, seemingly done with the world- probably examining the life choices that brought him here. Drautos stretched and loosed a puff of glitter on the pile of squirming glaives.

“Anything to say for yourselves?” The captain growled playfully.

They opened their mouths to reply, but were cut off by the lights flickering back on and the lockdown features sliding back into normal position. The main door clanged open- the king, flanked by his shield and the marshal strode in. Regis froze at the sight, seemingly unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. Clarus’s mouth worked silently, at the same processing error of his liege. Nobody moved until Cor Leonis coughed pointedly into his fist. Sonitus and Axis strode out uncertainly from behind a column. Pelna and Crowe staggered out from the hall, leaning on each other and still giggling wildly.

“I take it you found my gift?” The Marshall called. The glaives inhaled deeply before breaking into a cacophony of rage, amusement, and confusion.

“I have a name…” Drautos pulled himself up to his full height and fixed his eyes on the marshal. He tossed his cell keys to Axis.

“Release the prisoners. No punishments. This never happened.”

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twodaysintojune · 5 years ago

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Boobie Trap

Supernatural, Wincest, Warnings-Crack Fic

One Shots Masterlist, Long Stories Masterlist

Find me at AO3

"I dreamt that Sam had boobs." Is what my friend told me the other day. This is what came out of her weird ass dream.

For Sam and Dean some days life is weird, some others life is weirder and sometimes the weird-o-meter shoots up so high that it reaches the John Mulaney ‘You know those days where you’re like, this might as well happen?’ level.

The moment Sam woke up he knew there was something wrong. His chest felt heavy, like, there’s a cat or dog sleeping over me kind of heavy and as far as he was concerned and much to his disappointment, there were no pets in the bunker. When he moved aside, the weight moved with him and he felt some of it falling heavily over his arm and the rest of it hanging, pulling his skin and the tissue on the side of his torso with it. That was the moment Sam realized there was something really wrong. He opened his eyes and looked downwards and there they were, squished one on top of the other.

Boobs. And not just any kind of boobs. These were massive, bouncing, Dean’s anime porn like bazongas. The type that could never be contained with a sad simple sports bra.

Sam groaned noisily and rubbed his eyes. This was fucking perfect. It probably had been a cursed object and Sam thought this way because that’s what he had been dealing with the day before. He had been sorting up some old boxes they had brought from another chapterhouse and there had been a lot of paperwork and dusting to do. He had been careful but obviously he had not been careful enough.

He was going to have to move his way through all the rubble from yesterday and search for whatever had been the cause of these… pair of monstrosities to fix it.

He found a loose t-shirt whose fabric stretched dangerously around the rather loose blobs in front of his torso and moved towards the kitchen for an early breakfast. It was way too early but he was desperate to avoid everyone for as long as he could.

He prepared the coffee and did some eggs and toast, ate everything quickly and, pouring himself another cup, he ran away from the kitchen and into the old storage room where they dumped everything the day before. He sighed and went towards the boxes. Only instead of grabbing the ones with the objects, he went towards the ones that held the files. It was going to be easier and safer to deal with whatever the hell this thing had started it this way.

Like this, Sam spent some relatively peaceful three hours, picking up files and papers and reading them without finding anything. Maybe he could have gone faster had he just skimmed over the stuff that currently didn’t matter but most of the objects were pretty interesting so he got lost reading from time to time. There were also moments where his chest hurt with the extra weight it was carrying and he had to literally rest his unwelcomed boobs over the table for a moment. It was then when Dean decided to appear unannounced.

"Hey Sam did you se—HOLY SHIT ARE THOSE BOOBS?"

Sam groaned and covered his face, give it to Dean to call out the obvious.

"Yep. That's my life now."

“How in the—”

“Cursed object. Probably. Most likely. Woke up with them.” Annoyed sigh, throwing hands on his side. “What were you looking for?”

Sam’s upset face was not registered by Dean. He was walking towards his brother completely hypnotized, looking at how Sam’s boobs filled up and pulled the fabric of his shirt, looking at his bosom in the same way a man that barely survived the desert looks at a glass of water. Sam unconsciously began to cover his breast and shy away from Dean’s approaching body.

“Sammy...”

“Yeah?”

“C… Can I touch them?”

“What? No!”

“Just a little bit, I… I’d like to feel ‘em…”

Dean’s pupils dilated noticeably, his hand slowly reaching forward. Sam had already been on guard but now that his brother was acting so weird he was also getting a bit scared. He slapped Dean’s hand away and somehow that managed to snap him out of the trance he had fallen into. He blinked a couple of times.

“Sorry man I just, what the fuck?”

Sam sighed in relief, operation ‘Snap out of it jerk!’ had been a success.

“My thoughts as well.”

“You have no idea what did this?”

Sam was surprised Dean did not made a joke about his massive rack but he was probably feeling some sort of guilt after trying to grope his own brother.

“Not a clue, the objects I sorted yesterday were a bunch of boxes and what not, I’m going through the files to find it.”

“Ok so uh… How can I help?”

“Eh, just bring me something to eat later, I honestly don’t want to go around the bunker like this if possible.”

“Okay, okay uh...” Dean’s eyes fell at Sam’s boobs again but he managed to snap himself out of it. “Food! Yeah, I can do that.”

He beamed at Sam like he was really proud of himself for staying in control and strutted out of the door but not before glancing at Sam’s breast bidding them a sad and silent farewell one last time. Sam sighed and moved his head in reprobation. His brother was so stupid, he didn’t know how he could cope with him sometimes.

A couple of hours later Sam threw another pile of files into the ‘Reviewed’ box. He was going a bit faster after his brother’s intermission but still hadn’t found anything yet and he was adamant on filing everything properly while he worked his way through the papers unless he wanted to go back to all of this after finding his own cure. He heard a shuffle of feet and a soft rasp on the door. Sam looked upwards to greet his friend.

“Cas, hey, what’s up?”

Castiel came in with a tray of food. A focaccia sandwich along with a glass of juice. Sam inwardly praised himself for giving his brother a book about baking bread the past Christmas.

“Dean asked me to bring you this.”

The angel placed the tray in front of Sam once the man made some room for it and looked at him and then at his breast and chuckled. Sam turned at him questioningly.

“Nothing I… Your brother, when I asked him why he wanted me to bring you this myself he said that ‘he was busy’ and to ‘just do him the goddamned favour’ but now I clearly understand why he was acting so unsettled.”

Sam huffed annoyed “Well, it definitely wasn’t because of my nice personality.”

“I have to admit Sam that currently your bosom is… extremely alluring. Even for me.”

Sam turned towards his friend, appalled eyes and blushing. Mouth wide open but completely mute since he didn’t even know what to say. Castiel finally realized that he had been staring at Sam’s breast and looked away awkwardly.

“Of course that may be part of the curse that has landed upon you.”

“...Of course.”

Castiel coughed. “Is there anything I can help you with in the meantime?”

“Uh… yeah, I need to sort out and label the objects from these files I already documented so if you could help me separate them on that shelf over there?”

Working together in silence, Castiel and Sam managed to carefully storage about twenty of the most dangerous objects objects but there was still quite some to go through. It was later, almost at dinnertime when Dean came into Sam’s hideout to ask him if he already wanted to eat, leaving him again with a lingering look at his chest. Sam huffed annoyed.

“Stupid jerk. He’s an idiot if he thinks I’m gonna let him touch them.”

Castiel snickered. “Normally I would side with you Sam but you have to admit it is quite intriguing.”

“No I don’t, I don’t feel like touching my own boobs.”

Castiel raised his eyes surprised, truth be told, even he had wondered how they felt. Sam must have sensed Castiel’s curiosity and sighed a bit annoyed. He looked downwards and tentatively grabbed his chest. He moved his boobs one way to the other but even though it should have freaked him out to even be able to do that, it was almost like touching his normal chest in the manner that he didn’t feel like it was something that didn’t belong to his body. This was still his body and he knew he should be out of his mind but right now the boobs were there and it was like they had been there forever.

“That’s weird… Uhm Cas?”

“Yes Sam?”

“Uhm this will sound weird as hell but could you uh...” Sam blushed wildly “Could you… uh… t—touch them?”

Castiel frowned.

“Just for a moment! I want to see something.”

Before Castiel answered Dean appeared once more with dinner.

“Alright Samantha! Here you go, a delicious three course meal just for you.”

And it really was a three course meal, there was a bowl with egg soup and a plate of salad and some nice pasta that looked like carbonara. Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“Why did you make all this?”

“Oh you know, I just want to keep you well fed, I mean, there’s a lot of growing you still need to do.”

Dean gave Sam his best shit eating grin turning to look down to his chest.

“Oh my god Dean are you serious!? Stop with the boobs already!”

“Oh come on Sam, I can’t help it, it’s hilarious! I promise you I’ll leave it alone after you clear the curse!”

“It’s not hilarious and it still freaks me out that you wanna touch them so bad!”

“Can I?”

“No!”

Dean pouted at Sam like a kicked dog and Sam hated himself for letting his brother get to him like that. He was the one with the puppy dog eyes, Dean had no right to use them against him. Sam groaned.

“Ugh, alright! But just for a moment!”

Dean motioned his hands in victory and moved to grab Sam’s boobs with confidence. Sam thought it was going to be kind of like with his own hands, considering this was his brother they were talking about but the moment Dean’s hands delicately surrounded both sides of his breast and lifted them up slightly pressing them upwards together Sam felt a strong shiver running through his spine. Taken aback he stood up in a rush, slapping his hands away and covering his breast with his arms.

“Alright you touched them already now get lost!”

“What!? That was barely a touch!” Dean paused for a second and looked at his brother blushing furiously and looking at him like he had personally attacked him “Wait… Did that turn you on?”

“Of course not! Now get lost you idiot!” Sam spat back before noticing just how giving his actions had been. Once he realized his face turned another shade of red and he turned away from Dean feeling like an idiot.

Dean looked at his brother dazed until some thought came in his mind because he moved towards Sam and, surrounding him with his arms, he groped him from behind. To everyone’s surprise, Sam let out a high pitched exclamation and pushed his brother away from him.

“Dean, what the hell!?”

“I’m sorry I just...” Dean trailed off glancing at the box that contained the rest of the cursed objects. He kneeled next to it and not before long he signaled a tube made out of wood like those made to hold rolled papers. “Have you checked that one yet?”

“That red tube?”

“No no, below the tube.”

Sam looked below the tube and effectively, a vintage busty asian beauties magazine was lying at the bottom of the box below everything else. Sam recalled perfectly well the magazine, having made a mental note not to allow Dean to take it until he had filed everything else. He also remembered grabbing it with his hand, believing it was just a badly hidden personal treasure from a previous men of letters. Sam turned towards his friend.

“Cas?”

Castiel nodded and passed him the box with the rest of the files. Soon enough Sam found the file that contained the information on the cursed magazine. The story, once they found it, was that the magazine had been one of many experiments an old member of the order known for his tendency to pranking had created. The good news was that Sam’s boobs were going to disappear after forty eight hours, the bad news was that in the meanwhile he was going to be extremely sensitive if his boobs got in touch with another person’s hand, which they were naturally cursed to attract. The item had eventually been confiscated because the curse was too strong and they had deemed it too 'morally inconvenient for what a prank should convey’, whatever the hell that meant.

“Well, there you go, just lay low for tomorrow and you should be good to go!”

Dean gave Sam a reassuring pat while standing up. Sam huffed at his brother but he had to admit that Dean had a point. He moved back to the table to eat his meal, his appetite back now that he knew his condition was temporary. Dean and Castiel made to clear up the floor and finish storing what had been filed already, making the silent agreement that Sam was on temporary leave from any kind of work considering his current condition and the fact that it was still embarrassing for Sam to move with his massive bouncing rack all along the place in front of them.

Later on, Sam went to his room and turned the Netflix on browsing mindlessly, wondering what show he could binge watch. Dean appeared hours later, almost at midnight, with a couple of beers in a cooler bucket, he threw himself over the other side of the bed and passed Sam his drink. It was all cool until he felt something poking his boob. Sam turned to look at Dean but it wasn’t fast enough, Dean had moved his hand away. Sam looked at him suspiciously but soon after was focusing his eyes back on the screen with a sigh. Minutes later, he felt Dean’s finger poking him again.

Sam was already fed up with all the boob thing so he did his best to ignore it but Dean took that as a concession and began to press it with three fingers and then covered as much as he could with his entire hand. This time it was too much, Sam let out a soft squeak that made him blush and he slapped Dean’s hand away.

“Stop it Dean!”

“I’m sorry I just...”

Having been concentrated on the screen, Sam did not notice Dean’s pupils blown with lust and looking at him like he was a wet dream come true before and he realized that it had been a grave mistake to let his brother into his room like any other day with the curse laying over him. Quickly, Dean hovered over Sam and straddled him.

“Can I see them?”

“What? No! Dean come on!”

“Okay so just let me touch ‘em.”

Dean moved to grope him and Sam naturally tried to fight back his brother’s advances. They struggled until Dean managed to submit Sam’s hands over his head with one hand and lifted his shirt in a swift motion. Sam squealed when he felt the cool air around him and blushed wildly when he realized what his vocal chords had done. He glared at Dean but realized his brother was way down the rabbit’s hole, his entire being was captured by the immensity of Sam’s magical titties.

Dean used his free hand to hold and squeeze it tentatively and Sam hitched a breath. In a way, he understood that the spell was doing this but he still hated the fact that he could be this sensitive with a simple touch. Soon enough, Dean dropped his hold on Sam’s wrists and grabbed the second pair. He squeezed and rubbed and pushed them together and Sam tried to fight back but the moment his brother started to properly grope him Sam felt all his strength leaving him and he was getting caught more and more into the intense sensations his breast was sending to his nervous system until Sam couldn’t help it and began to breathe shallowly. Hands resting over Dean’s things, pressing them in need.

“You like that?”

Sam frowned at Dean but his flustered face was doing nothing to help him look truly angry. Dean smirked at him with that look that said ‘wait and see’ and bent down over one of Sam’s nipples. Sam felt disconnected for a second from the image of his brother opening his lips to surround his currently enlarged areola but was brought back to reality when his brother’s solid sucking pulled his nipple into a vacuum of wet and warm pleasure, prodded by Dean’s talented tongue. Sam moaned hard. He tried to push Dean’s head away with what little strength he could muster.

“Dean, stop! You… you can’t…”

Resisting was becoming harder and harder. There was something definitely wrong with the way Sam's body was reacting. The sensations Dean was giving him with his mouth were amazing and he was slowly changing his grip on Dean's head from harsh pushing to hair tangling. Eventually, Dean sucked out with a pop that made Sam moan and before his brother could react, Dean bent on the other nipple, treating it just as nicely as the first one, fingers pinching softly the one that had been left behind. Dean worked Sam up until he moaned once more and straightened up.

“Take off your shirt Sam”

Dean stood up and away from Sam and unbuckled his belt. Sam, panting, moved upwards to do as his brother had ordered and, leaning once more over the pillows, he looked at Dean take off his boots and drop his pants and underwear. Even when his rational part screamed ‘This is wrong!’ his dick twitched in anticipation. It was like there was a clear barrier separating the side of him desperate to stop his brother’s advances from his cursed body’s current needs. The rational part of Sam slammed against it but the struggle inside his mind was numbed when Dean jumped on top of him and placed his dick between Sam’s massive boobs.

“Man, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

Sam was unable to even begin a word against it, he only managed to choke a sigh when Dean began to slowly rock his dick between the soft tissue of his chest. He clearly saw Dean close his eyes and frown in concentration, plump lips slightly parted in pleasure, eyes half lidded with heavy eyelashes, cheeks flustered in a way that made his freckles more evident. And that was the moment Sam realized with a pang of guilt that despite the frustratingly unwanted situation, he would remember this moment forever, having his brother looking so beautiful on top of him just like that.

“Fuck Sammy, you’re so soft and warm right now, I could do this forever.”

Dean turned to look at him and gave him a smile full of care and love. Sam felt his ears burn.

“Shut up jerk”

“Love you too, baby”

Sam bitchfaced him, he was trying to think of a comeback to that when Dean began to thrust between his boobs faster. Sam moaned, the change of pace was hitting his nervous system in exactly the right way and he was now feeling how tight his jeans felt around his dick. He looked at his brother and the moment their eyes locked he felt like he could never look away from those beautiful green eyes. Not long after that, he was unconsciously buckling up with each of his brother’s thrusts, matching his pace. Dean’s jagged breath was drawn for a second.

“Look down Sam, I want you to see how I come all over you.”

Dean’s voice was low and rough and just the right level for it to cause Sam shivers but he did his best to hide that and manage a glare at his brother.

“You’re an idiot”

“Come on Sammy”

Sam knew his brother, he could tell the tone Dean was using was the tone he only used with him when he allowed himself some sort of vulnerability. Sam sighed, more angry at himself than at Dean and turned to look as instructed. Soon enough, Dean’s movement stammered while he squished Sam’s boobs a little harder, sending a wave of pleasure through Sam while he saw the head of his brother’s dick pop in between his breast just at the time his thick cum came out hard. Dean grunted while Sam gasped in surprise, he clearly felt the ribbons of hot cum splattering his neck and face drawing a line of its trajectory all over him.

It went cold way too fast for Sam’s liking. Almost unconsciously, Sam licked the few speckles of cum that had touched his lips. It had been thick and astringent, very different from his own. He was barely noticing how ragged his brother’s breath sounded and how wrecked he looked, lingering his sight on him, on the way he had tasted Dean’s cum right in front of him.

Without saying a word, Dean moved away from him and looked at Sam's crotch and feeling a little bit of guilt, he began to open his jeans.

"D—Dean!?"

"Shhh, It's okay Sammy, I've got you."

Swiftly, Dean took Sam’s clothes and pulled them down enough to get his dick out to be able to stroke him nicely. After a few testing strokes where Dean took in Sam’s considerable size and mentally compared it to his own reaching to the conclusion that he could live without feeling overpowered by his little brother, he spit on his hand and began to jack Sam off. Sam whined. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it,quite the contrary; he was really, really liking it and he was a little worried, knowing that it was his brother the one giving him all those sensations. It didn’t take Dean long before he had Sam bucking against his strokes hard panting and frowning, mouth slightly open trying to bring more air into his lungs. Dean skillfully rubbed his thumbs against the ridge that separates the head of Sam’s dick with the rest of his cock and saw Sam falling over the edge with a loud moan.

Sam felt his muscles clench while he shot his cum all over himself and Dean’s hand. Dean pulled and pressed his dick just enough to help him go through the climax, looking lovingly at him and when Sam let out a final sigh of satisfaction Dean moved away his hand and looked at it for a second before licking a droplet lingering on his thumb. Sam felt his dick twitch. There was something about looking at Dean tasting his cum that he didn’t know if he was ready to take in.

Dean didn’t say a thing about the taste, he turned around and looked for tissues. Once he found them he went through Sam’s body, cleaning it as best as he could.

“I think I better take a bath.”

“You think? You even got cum on your hair.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Dean gave Sam’s bitchface a perfectly proud smile. Sam was close to bicker like always but noticed something odd.

“You don’t want to keep touching my boobs?”

Dean looked at him a bit surprised.

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“Good. Now go away jerk, I need my towels.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

The following day Sam stayed in his bedroom, he wasn’t sick per se but Dean was adamant on keeping him comfortable. Sam believed that he was also feeling guilty for what they had done but didn’t say a thing either. It was better to pretend nothing had happened and just take his brother’s sudden burst of kindness.

Some weeks later in the middle of cleaning the bunker Dean saw what looked like an old magazine on the library floor. He picked it up and turned it around only to see that it was the cursed Busty Asian Beauties one. Slowly, he closed his eyes and breathed in trying to count to ten. When he finally thought he could keep himself from killing his brother he turned around and paced towards the laundry room.

“SAM!!!”

#wincest #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #sam and dean #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic

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possiblypeachy · 5 years ago

Text

tea & schemes. (4)

―; summary: Jacob visits Florence for the first time. Florence is left with far too many emotions.

―; pairing: jacob frye x ofc

―; word count: 4.9k (its a big boy, babey)

―; warnings: light swearing. anxiety-esque feelings towards the end (Florence gets overwhelmed ): )

―; A/N: i love Florence muchly at this point and, trust me, i already want to write cute little fluffy smoochy things but there’s a bit of time before that still. society has a lot to say about how a woman should be at this time and it really has begun to wear on Florrie, as demonstrated at the end of this chapter.

don’t worry though!!! she’s just babie and will work past it soon. the heart wants what the heart wants, after all.

―; part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

― ❊ ―

Freddy and Florence had spent the next few days having tense conversations between their self-isolation to their own bedrooms. There was a sense of regret that hung in the air but neither siblings seemed to want to speak of it. Florence, nerves too high to even stay in the same room as him for a while and worried that he would further draw attention to her mortal flaws, kept herself to reading. Freddy busied himself with paperwork and patrols until the late evening. That is until Lissie, fed up with their pride, sat them both down and commanded that they talk to one another, lest the cook quit and leave them to fend for themselves.

Oh, if she had a shilling for every time she’d had to do this since working for the Abberline’s, she’d have enough money to finally buy that necklace she’d always ogled on the way to the market. It was the way of siblings, she supposed: they always had to prove they were superior to the other in one way or another.

They had reconciled after a few moments of silence then them both leaning forward and mumbling an “I’m sorry” at the same time. Frederick admitted that perhaps his leash on her was too tight. Florence said that she understood that he was just trying to protect her. Her brother sighed tiredly, thankful that this was all over, and joked that at least she didn’t have to write about their bickering now in her letter to their parents. When she laughed, everyone could feel a weight lift off of the household.

All was well with the Abberline’s once again.

That afternoon, after Freddy had left for work with a smile on his face for the first time in days, Florence had retired to her room, finally content enough with life that she could write a sufficient letter to her parents. Edward and Hannah Abberline were kind parents and especially lenient with their children, much to the dismay of other mothers and fathers of their rank. Their only condition for Florence to move into Freddie’s house in London was that she wrote regularly and that she at least try to find a nice man to marry. She was more than happy to uphold those terms.

The brunette was lucky that, when three knocks came to her bedroom window, her dip pen was away from the paper; with the way that she jolted in her seat, it surely would’ve ruined the page she had been writing on. A string of meowing began from her bed, her cat obviously peeved at the disruption to his sleep. When her gaze finally dragged to the window, half-expecting to see an insistent bird, she met eyes with Jacob, who’s grin told her that he found her surprise amusing.

Florence stood and slid the window up, letting Jacob haul himself inside. “The window is usually open; you didn’t have to knock.”

He dusted himself off, readjusting his coat. Before he could speak, the tabby cat to his left honked at him. Shocked, Jacob looked about before meeting the stare of perhaps the most tired-looking (and sounding) feline he’d ever seen. The cat yelled at him again and he gave Florence a look.

Florence scooped the cat up into her arms, much to its displeasure. “Don’t worry about Duncan. He likes to tell people off for disturbing him.”

Jacob chuckled. “He’s called Duncan?” He reached a hand out and Duncan sniffed it cautiously.

“An urchin gave him to me a year or so ago. The poor child said that she wanted him to live a nice life with a nice lady. She said his name was Duncan.” Florence looked fondly down at the cat, who seemed to have now forgiven Jacob and was gently purring. When Jacob drew away, Duncan meowed and clawed his way up to balance on his owner’s shoulder, sniffing the air. Florence looked inconvenienced but decided to allow it, continuing to speak with Jacob. “What brings you here?”

“Adventure, dear Flor.” He had begun to peruse through her belongings, eyes scanning the letter she had been writing and the cat figurine on her desk. “You, me, the great city of London: are you up for it?”

Florence tutted, leaning to let Duncan hop down onto the bed from her shoulder, and shuffled Jacob away from her desk. “That’s not particularly specific. You could be planning on taking me somewhere nefarious like a…” She paused to think, during which Jacob was practically challenging her to say something terrible, “... brothel in Whitechapel.”

Jacob grimaced but huffed out a laugh. “Nothing of the sort. I don’t even know what that is, Miss Abberline.”

Florence nodded mockingly. “Of course, Jacob.”

“Anyway, before I let you poison my mind with thoughts of brothels,” He gave her a pointed look, reaching down to scratch behind Duncan’s ear, and Florence grinned, “I thought that I could introduce you to a slice of my world.”

Florence cooed, clapping her hands together, though her movements dripped of sarcasm. “Ooh! Are we going to derail a train together?”

His smile said ‘you cheeky mare’ but he continued before she had the chance to berate him further. “No, I was going to take you to a newly liberated stronghold. Evie and I run a gang, you know? Well, it’s more me than Evie but--”

“Where?”

Jacob thought for a moment, like he’d forgotten its location entirely, before breaking out into a terrible smile. “Whitechapel.”

Florence sighed but couldn’t hide the glint of excitement burning in her eyes. Gangs? A stronghold? Goodness, it sounded like a piece from a gritty book or perhaps a play. How delightful!

“I’ll come along but if I get pickpocketed you’re getting my money back, Jacob.”

“Certainly, dear lady.” He made a sweeping gesture to her bedroom door. “Shall we?”

Florence hadn’t been expecting to venture into Whitechapel again for a good few months. Catching her brother and meeting the twins there a few days prior had been enough for her. Now, she never looked down upon the poorer; before her father had opened that little shop of his and gained a seat on the town’s council, their family of seven all squished into two rooms and lived off of scrimping. Rather, she felt terribly bad for wandering around perhaps the most impoverished area of London in full health with a warm meal being cooked for her at home. Of course, she didn’t feel sorry for the thugs on the streets that ruffed up those who already had nothing and simply saw them as even more of a reason to visit as little as possible.

When Jacob began to lead her down a dingy alleyway, he seemed unfazed by the drunk man passed out on the floor and… was that his vomit beside him? Florence unconsciously began to walk closer to Jacob, a hand coming up to adjust her hat-- almost hoping that, if she moved it in a certain way, the shadow cast over her fast would hide it. “Are you certain we’re going the right way? Or, are you just leading me down here to test my resolve?”

He chuckled, giving a brief nod to a tall, bald man in a green jacket. “Why can’t it be both?” He stopped walking to let her go in front of him, gesturing for her to do exactly that with a sweep of his hand.

Florence hummed, dissatisfied, but walked ahead of him anyway. She could feel that he was close behind, almost like he was making it painfully obvious that the well-dressed, middle-class lady was with him and not available to be robbed today. It brought her a small degree of comfort, though she couldn’t help but think of her brother’s disapproving glare.

“Oh.” He muttered from behind her. She would’ve turned to look but she decided against it, not wanting to risk accidentally bumping into anyone strung about the narrow pathway. “I almost forgot. Here.” Jacob’s arm appeared at her side, palm upturned and holding the bird figurine from the market. Much to his delight, Florence made what sounded like a pleased little coo and took the sculpture from him, inspecting it with a collector’s eyes. “I went back to the market the other day and bought it; I thought you deserved a gift after the work you did.”

It was a sweet gesture and Florence couldn’t deny the happiness felt in her chest or the smile that immediately cracked her anxious demeanour. “That’s… quite kind of you, Jacob.” She ran a thumb over the intricately carved feathers then, in an effort to keep her newfound treasure safe, she pulled it closer to her body without much thought.

Jacob, however, grinned at this, seeing the amusing resemblance between her and a creature that hoards-- like a magpie or a squirrel. “You collect them, don’t you?”

Florence huffed out a laugh, allowing herself a brief glance over her shoulder to meet his eyes. “Yes, I do. They’re always beautifully crafted and they make a lovely addition to a mantlepiece or desk.” She paused for a moment, pondering. Then, she sighed. “I also collect coins, though they are a lot harder to come by and… I have a book in my desk drawer filled with stamps.”

“Stamps?” He repeated, intrigued. Florence could hear amusement in his tone.

“Stamps.” She confirmed. Wanting anything but having to assess whether or not Jacob thought less of her for this, her sight stayed firmly on the path ahead.

With a simple “I’ll keep an eye out, then” Florence felt altogether better about the situation. It wasn’t often that people simply left her be with her ridiculous collecting habits. She simply enjoyed the… satisfaction that came with the task; she was not a madwoman.

Jacob was becoming more likeable by the minute.

More and more people clad in green began to appear, all regarding Jacob with considerable amounts of respect and admiration. A few made comments about her, telling him that this was “no place to bring a bird like that”, to which, from the corner of her eyes, she could see him throw up two fingers at them. A half-smile tugged at her lips, though she made no audible observations.

They finally got to a small square behind four buildings. A few urchins ran about the place but most were men and women, dressed in green and chatting with one another or having what seemed to be playful brawls. A curious gaze dragged across the surroundings, slowly piecing the puzzle together. Flags of the same shade of green flew and, if she looked closely enough, she noticed that a symbol had been painted onto them: a bird holding a chess piece.

A rook holding a knight.

“You and Miss Frye are the ones that rallied the Clinkers?” She spun around to look at him, face etched with awe. Florence gestured wildly to their surroundings. “I expected a little gathering of rogues and crooks not… this. From what I’ve heard, your new Rooks have been taking down Blighter territory left and right.” Jacob’s eyes were wide but he said nothing, unsure if she was excited to be here or more frightened. A few seconds passed, then Florence broke out into a grin, pointing a finger at him. “I’m impressed.”

The tightness in his shoulders left and he visibly relaxed, mirroring her expression. “Oh, it’s nothing, really. Not compared to what I usually do.”

A nearby gang member-- a rook-- booed at him, though it was through a laugh. The man to her side shook his head, breathing out a chuckle through his nose. It was nice to see that there was such a strong sense of camaraderie between them all, despite them being up against huge and (until now) unbeaten opposition. Florence supposed that being united under two people so outwardly courageous and rallying for change that it would make any group be reinstilled with a sense of hope.

She tutted at him, chiding him for trying to take all the glory, but the smile that twisted at her lips told that she didn’t take him too seriously. “Don’t be a prick, Jacob; I didn’t venture here for you to take all the fame from your men.” He feigned offence, holding a hand to his chest. Clearly having just arrived at a stop on her train of thought, Florence tilted her head slightly, “Speaking of which, why did you bring me here? If you hope to enlist me, I’m afraid my days are all taken up with reading and looking for a husband-- you know, the usual.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile and a sarcastic dip of her head.

Jacob kissed his teeth. “A shame, really. Could’ve used a woman with your skill in…” he searched for something to fill the gap. Florence stared at him, a challenging light dancing in her eyes, “... making men feel small.”

She threw her head back, a glimpse of her signature, ridiculous laugh gracing the world. One of her fingers pointed at him and she nodded, “Not bad, Frye. Not bad. But,” Her giggling quietened down and she threw her arms up, as if to gesture to the square and its people, “besides making me feel all-powerful, why exactly have you decided to bring me here?”

“Well,” he began, moving toward a small alcove. There were a few sacks held up on sticks, littered with holes and slices. A crate beside them had a few practice weapons, though she was almost certain that, if she were to be hit over the head with that… wooden stick it would hurt. A lot. “I thought that, what with the mishap--” His eyes flickered to the fading bruise on her cheek, now a sickly yellow colour, and she grimaced, “-- the last time we were together, I might introduce you to extra forms of protection.” Jacob pulled a throwing knife so swiftly from his person that Florence had no idea where it actually came from. He turned it in his hand, fingers carefully holding the bladed end while the grip pointed toward her. “Protection besides a good kick to the bollocks, that is.”

Florence huffed out a laugh and took the knife from him, weighing it cautiously in her hand. “Freddy would go insane if he saw me holding this.”

“Through fear or anger?”

“I’d take a stab at both.” There was a twinkle in her eyes, begging him to pick up on her pun.

He had indeed and gave a “ha, ha, ha” in response, to which Florence shot him an over-exaggerated frown.

Jacob moved to stand beside her, his position forcing her to turn and face the mounted sacks. He pulled another knife out and her gaze flickered towards it. Florence seemed appropriately wary of the weapon and, without knowing, had begun to lean away from Jacob while he held it. His lips curled into a discreet smile upon noticing this but he said nothing; it’s better that she feels in control and comfortable when trying things like this.

“The key to throwing one of this is the power in the wrist.” He rotated the knife around, letting the bladed end almost rest near his wrist. His thumb and first two fingers were at the grip, supporting it, though she could see how loose the hold was-- presumably to make it easier to throw the knife. Jacob looked to her and gestured with his head for her to copy his position. Florence pursed her lips, unsure if she was willing to risk accidentally cutting herself and facing her brother’s wrath, but, after a few moments of quiet deliberation, she did it anyway; she didn’t come all this way just to waste her and Jacob’s time.

He gave her a smile so reassuring and kind that something skipped or bloomed or… something in Florence’s chest and she had to look away.

No. We won’t be having any of that, Florence Abberline.

“Then, once you’ve got a good hold on it, you use the flick of your wrist to--” Jacob threw the knife and, to her amazement, it landed in the centre of the sack, “-- throw it. It can be difficult to get the power right but, once you’re as good as me, you won’t have to think much.”

Florence gave him a harsh side glance. “You continue to gloat even when I’m holding a knife? You’re a foolish, foolish man, Jacob Frye.”

He gave her a sly grin. “It appears you just make me lose all sense, dear Flor.”

Their eyes stayed locked for just a second too long and, in an attempt to distract them both, she threw the knife. Its trajectory was wobbly and the side hit the sack rather than the sharp end but, all in all, he had to admit that it wasn’t too bad; he’d seen some of the Rook initiates throw them worse than that.

Jacob’s lips curled into one of those ‘not bad’ frowns, brows darting skywards. Florence glowered at the fallen knife, never one to enjoy a loss. “Trying to make sense of one of these is ridiculous.” She sighed, pointing to the weapon in the dirt. “Can I not just use one of those as a… normal weapon?”

“It is a normal weapon.”

“Shut up-- you know what I mean.”

As he went to collect the knife, he gave a chuckle. “I suppose you can but only as a last resort; it’s not made for close-range combat.”

Florence huffed. “Well,” A light grew in her eyes, gaze flickering to Jacob. When he turned to face her again, he could tell that a thought was brewing; she had that same look when they first met, “if I were to ever fight someone further away from me, I would much prefer to use a gun.” She glanced down to his hips-- at the straps and holster that held his pistol.

Jacob shook his head, clicking his fingers to draw her attention. “My eyes are up here.”

She grinned, the dimple a deep crease in her cheek. There came a playful wink and a “What can I say? I like a man with who can handle his pistol well”. Innuendo dripped from her tone and he threw his head back to laugh.

“Are you only using me for my gun, dear Flor?” Despite his words, he still pulled the weapon from its holster, checking the cylinder to see how many bullets were inside. He removed all but one.

“If I am, you’re making it terribly easy.” A hand was on her hip when he handed the gun over to her, an impish smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “No resistance, Jacob? You seem like the type to treasure his weaponry.” Florence raised a brow, eyes raking over the pistol in her hand.

He shrugged as she held it up toward the sacks, moving to lean beside a nearby wall to stay clear of… whatever might happen when she shot it. “When a pretty lady offers to play with your gun,” Jacob scrunched his face up, pitch heightening, “you don’t tend to turn her down.”

Florence cackled, leaning over herself to allow her shoulders to shake for a few moments. “You’re terrible.”

“I do try.” He grinned. Then, one of his hands came out to gesture to the training area. “Right. Are you gonna shoot that or n-- pass it back to me.”

“What? Why--”

Jacob took a few urgent steps forward, leaning toward her with his palm open, “Pass it back--” She heard him quietly curse under his breath and stand up straight-- almost too abruptly. He was facing the opposite direction to her now and, as she turned to see who was there, he uttered a devastating: “Hello, Evie.”

Impending doom had appeared in the form of Evie Frye.

Florence could tell that Jacob was caught in between a rock and a hard place with how his brain appeared to have dripped out of both of his ears and he was stood beside her, completely absent. Evie looked between the both of them. Florence hoped that her hat obscured some measure of her face but she also knew that Evie wasn’t an idiot.

“Miss Abberline,” Fuck, “I didn’t expect to see you here of all places. Don’t tell me that my brother dragged you here.” Evie already knew what was happening and that made it triply worse when Florence decided that the best thing to do in the situation was to lie.

Pure desperation coursing through her veins, she grabbed the rook closest to her-- a skinny man in his mid-twenties-- and hooked her arm around his, shuffling herself so they looked like a couple. He didn’t look particularly convincing. “I was actually here to visit…” Florence looked into the bloke’s eyes, her lips drawn into a thin line and her expression panicked. He said nothing and she quietly kissed her teeth, “... Paul. He’s enchanting and I can barely keep myself away--”

“My name is Terrence.”

Beside her, Jacob’s hand flew up to his forehead and he turned away from the pair of them, breathing out a heavy sigh. Evie still stared at Florence, who had frozen in the face of her badly made lie falling apart.

In one last attempt to redeem herself, Florence slapped Paul’s-- Terrence’s-- arm in the same way a wife would when she has to laugh at her husband’s joke. “Don’t be so silly, my love.” She gave Evie a smile, to which the assassin returned but it seemed impatient and altogether unconvinced-- like she was simply trying to speed up her breaking point.

“Good old Paul likes to mess about to try to get Miss Abberline all flustered. He says that her blush is beautiful, isn’t that right Paul?” Jacob joined the fight again, though there was a dimness to his hazel eyes that told Florence that he already knew his sister had won.

Paul frowned. “I just said my name is Terrence. And, why is this woman holding onto my arm?” Florence and Jacob cursed in unison. A smile twisted at the gangly man’s lips, however, when he finally gave Florence a proper look over. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a go on a posh bird. You got any plans for tonight, love?”

Disgusted, Florence yanked herself away from him and crossed her arms below her chest. Jacob grimaced beside her and, with a flick of his hand, gestured for Terrence to leave. The man in question went into a sulk and began to kick dirt up as he disappeared around the corner.

“Are you finished?” Evie glanced between them. The pair said and did nothing, which Evie took as a ‘yes’. She pointed a finger to Jacob. “I need to speak with you about something important so you should--”

“Is it about the gang war, Miss Evie?” One of the rooks piped up from a few feet away, having just strolled into the middle of the chaos-filled alcove.

Jacob perked up at Florence’s side. “The what?”

Before Evie could ask the rook to be quiet, they had already started to speak again, “Kaylock has agreed to a fight over Whitechapel. Whoever wins owns the borough.”

He grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. “That sounds perfect.” Hazel eyes flickered between Florence and his sister. Both women seemed to anticipate his departure before it even began. “Sorry ladies but I have a borough to become king of.” He looked to the rook, who gestured loosely in the fight’s direction. Jacob nodded and was off on his way, musing “King Jacob: sounds good, doesn’t it?” as he passed the girls by, pinching the gun back from Florence.

Florence, finding the whole thing quite amusing, began to laugh quietly, while Evie at her left simply gave a sigh. Blue eyes dragged over to the smaller woman and she raised a brow, gesturing to the direction he left in. “One of the many reasons why anyone should just stay at home if Jacob invites them out.”

“I think his passion is inspiring.”

“Not when you’ve lived with it your whole life.” Evie gave her a solemn look.

Florence breathed out a chuckle, shaking her head. “You and Freddy would get along well.”

Evie, all things considered, didn’t regard Miss Abberline in a negative light; her apparent desire for adventure and little escapades through London didn’t work to destabilise something greater-- like the reckless decisions Jacob had the tendency to make. She only worried that having her brother form some kind of hopeless attachment to Florence would hinder any progress that he might make and keep him perpetually senseless.

A softer look gracing her features now, Evie gestured for Florence to walk with her. “I think, now that my brother has abandoned you, we should get you home, Miss Abberline. Will Sergeant Abberline be back by the time you arrive?”

Florence pondered then her answer came by way of an inconvenienced frown. “If he’s on his break, maybe. Knowing my luck, he will be.”

They finally reached the main street and Evie seemed to search for a carriage. Briefly, she turned to regard Florence, an eyebrow raised. “I heard that Sergeant Abberline didn’t seem particularly happy when you returned home last Tuesday. Has it passed?”

“This morning, actually.” Florence confirmed. “Lissie made us reconcile; she threatened to leave if not.”

“Your sister?” Evie asked, nodding her head toward a carriage parked on the other side of the road.

Florence followed after her, allowing a light laugh. “No. If anything, she’s more like an over-enthusiastic aunt. Lissie is our live-in cook. She tends to help me like a handmaid, though.”

For the first time, Florence heard Evie’s genuine laugh. Her grin formed in the same way that Jacob’s did but wasn’t given out as freely as he tended to. Reaching the carriage, she gave Florence a hand to help her up onto it before clambering into the driver’s seat herself. “Well, this Lissie sounds like a good woman.”

“Ah,” Florence smiled, huffing out a giggle, “only sometimes. I think she enjoyed when I moved in with Freddy; it gave her someone more lively to gossip with.”

Evie hummed, amused, then silence fell over them both for a small while, leaving Florence to gaze out at the changing boroughs of London and let her thoughts run loose. No matter what her mind tried to focus on-- the book she had been reading, the play her and Freddy were due to attend at the end of the week, the dress she so desperately wanted to buy-- all lines seemed to lead back to Jacob and the (albeit limited) actions they’d had throughout the past few days. It was ridiculous to have suddenly become fixated on this one man. He knew nothing about her and she knew just as little about him. Yet, the thought of him persisted.

Was it him? Or the adventure that came from him?

She began to chew on the inside of her lip, thumbs playing with one another in her lap.

Liking and love were not for Florence. She had tried love once and declared that that would be her last time. A life without that burden was liberating, she’d always told herself. It’s why she despises the idea of getting married and having someone always able to hold onto her reins. It was a useless endeavour and would not serve her in any way that she would like. It would suffocate and surround her. That’s what she’ll always tell herself.

She liked the adventure he caused.

“Miss Abberline?” Evie called over her shoulder and Florence straightened up again but her head was still spinning. The hum she gave would’ve been a voice break. “I think…” Evie gave a sigh, “I think it would be in everyone’s best interests if you don’t indulge my brother. He’s-- he needs to focus on our plans in London. We are working for the better of the people and being close to him-- us-- could put you in a delicate position.”

Of course.

"It's obvious that he enjoys the time spent with you and already counts you among one of his friends but I just..." Evie sucked a breath in through her teeth, leading the horses neatly around a corner, "He hasn't yet realised the gravity of our situation. He just needs to focus."

Of course. Of course. Of course.

It was really beginning to grate on Florence: the fact that everyone wanted her to leave something or another alone. Freddy wants her to stop her business in helping him. Her parents want her to stop messing around and find a husband. Now, Miss Frye wants her to stop interfering with herself and Jacob’s plans. It was only ever ‘stop’ and never a push-- an encouragement to ‘go’.

Frustration rioted in her blood. Her hands were shaking. They held each other tighter.

Maybe they were right. Perhaps it would be easier for everyone if she stopped doing and simply let herself be. Freddy only wanted her to be safe and sane. Evie was saying this to protect her and keep London’s best future on the cards. It wasn’t selfish of them to ask; it was selfish of her to disregard.

It was considerate, the part of her mind that wasn’t fire and brimstone thought-- soothed.

“That sounds fine, Miss Frye.”

It’s for the best, the growing calm of her thoughts said in an effort to pacify.

“You have a fair reason for asking.”

All will be well and fine, her mind-- now having ceased its chattering-- assured.

“I’ll let him down gently.”

#assassins creed #assassins creed syndicate #ac syndicate #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x oc #evie frye #frederick abberline #florence abberline #florence has a lot of inner turmoil #she'll iron it out eventually i promise

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happybeeme0514 · 6 years ago

Text

Revelation Ch. 18

Chapter 18- Rain

Zyglavis Past POV

I don’t remember the actual attack. What I remember is walking down the path from mother’s house back to the palace one day, and then, everything went black. Maybe the pain was too much.

When I woke up, it had turned to night. It was the sensation of rain that had stirred me, the cold, annoying plips of the droplets incessantly tapping on my body forcing me to open my eyes. My hair lay wet and limp along my face, my right cheek squished into the mud that had accumulated under me in the time that had passed. I groaned, and tried to get up, but a deep, burning sensation rang out along my back, making me gasp and collapse back down.

Confused, I looked around. And there I saw him. Just standing there, waiting, taunting.

“Well, look who is finally awake. Though I must say, it was nice to hear you moaning while you were unconscious.”

He looked down at me with those odd eyes, one grey, one a blazing red. He seemed…strangely familiar, not like I had seen him before, but like I knew him. He looked like…like…

I tried to pull myself up again, but once again, that pain refused to let me stand. The god laughed.

“I’d give up, if I were you. Just let it take you. You won’t be able to fight it, anyway. I spent the past millennium researching the perfect way to kill you, you see, and I finally perfected it. Not even the king himself will be able to save you. Lord Zyglavis.”

“Ngh.” Scowling, I lifted my eyes to look at the god again, and I was finally able to place a name to his face.

Diefropos! That’s who he was. He was known for being reclusive and odd, but I never thought that he would try to kill me. That’s a suicide mission.

“You’ll…die for this,” I muttered. “You know that…right?”

“Do you honestly think I care?” Diefropos asked, a bored expression taking his still unplaceable, familiar features. “No, the point, dear Zyglavis, is to kill you, to upset the balance of the Department of Punishments. The Earth. The whole goddamn Heavens! I don’t care what happens me. I haven’t cared for a long, long time.”

He approached me, his black boots stomping heavily on the wet ground, and leaned down to me, grabbing me by my hair and yanking my head up.

“Ack! Ah…”

Drops of rain slid down his face. Shadows hid under his oddly colored eyes, his lips a bright red in some spots from where it looked like he had picked at them. His cheeks had sunken in just a little, making him seem sharper, more dangerous...which he definitely was.

“But hear me,” He whispered as I glared up at him. He just smiled, seeming to find some sick joy in this. “I mean it when I say not even the king will be able to remove this curse from you. It will eat at you, bend and break your bones, shut your body down…it. Will. Fucking. Kill you.”

And he shoved my face into the mud. I struggled against his firm grip, but I was so weak from his attack. A part of my mind wanted to reject what he was saying, but another part had already accepted it. I could already feel something inside me resisting every breath I took.

I couldn’t even fight against him, when I was normally strong.

“Mmhmhm...haha...” Diefropos snickered and laughed while I struggled, finding happiness in my misery.

“Zyglavis!”

“Hey, Minister Ponytail, where you at?”

“Hm. Seems they’re looking for you. They’ll have quite the fun time trying to save you. What a fruitless venture that will be. Ta-ta.”

I felt Diefropos’ fingers loosen against my hair, and then leave my head.

Shortly after he left, the other gods found me.

…

As much as I hated it, he was right.

Over the next couple weeks, I lost my powers. I couldn’t control my shadow or even teleport anymore. The curse fed on any type of energy I had to give, and when I couldn’t give it any more godly power, it began taking my physical energy. I began losing weight. It fell off me at alarming speeds. One hundred-sixty-four pounds, then one-hundred-fifty, then one hundred-forty-four, then one-hundred-twenty, then one-hundred and three, all in the span of three weeks.

My skin clung to my bones, making me look frighteningly fragile, my hair was falling out, and I actually began to require sleep.

Every waking moment caused pain. My muscles ached just from changing positions. Scorpio managed to capture Diefropos, but he wouldn’t tell him how to cure me, and quite honestly, I don’t think there even was a way to cure me.

Every time I coughed, I broke a rib or two. Each time I slept on my arm wrong, I woke up with a fracture, and if I moved funny, something would crack. I was always cold, shivering like that night I woke up in the rain, no matter how many layers I wore or how bundled in blankets I was.

Rain had taken over my life.

On one particular day, Scorpio sat in my room with me, grumbling to himself about “that asshole Diefropos”, while looking over paperwork. I watched him. I knew the way he felt. I had known it for years. I just didn’t acknowledge it because I was afraid of how it would change our relationship. Scorpio was my best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin that. But, seeing as I was dying…I opened my mouth.

“Scorpio…”

The doors to my room opened, and Leon came in.

“Hey, scorpion. The king wants to see us.”

“What the hell for?”

“I don’t know, he just said to come and get you.”

“Well what about Zig?”

Leon’s eyes turned to me.

“Zyglavis, do you feel like you can stay here on your own?”

I stared at the lion. While it was odd to have him worry about me, I felt strangely touched. And a little indignant.

“I’m fine.” I replied.

Leon’s gaze strayed on me for a while, his mouth turning down. I saw his eyebrows twitch, as if his expression wanted to morph. I knew that expression well. It was one every single god tried to hide in front of me, but failed in doing. Every one of them was working day and night without stopping for one moment, during the day, they did their normal work, then during the night, they researched ways to save me from the curse that was taking the life from me. They tried to hide their sorrow, but I could see it. I could hear Dui comforting Ichthys on several occasions. I could hear Karno trying to calm Leon a raging when they thought I was sleeping. I knew everything.

I had lost the parts of me that made me whole, and there was nothing they could do about it. We all knew it, but we also knew they were too stubborn to give up.

“Come on.” Leon said finally. Scorpio glanced at me before sluggishly pulling himself to his feet and following Leon from my room, leaving me alone.

Swallowing tightly, I looked over to my desk, at the mountain of paperwork Scorpio had to do. Because I was no longer at my post, the burden of both my work and his fell on him. The other gods in Punishments tried to help, but they had their own work to do as well.

This was such a failure. Was I so useless that I couldn’t even do paperwork?

Taking a deep breath, I braced a hand on the arm of the couch, my other on the cushion, and slowly pulled myself up. My legs wobbled unsteadily, screaming in exhaustion from just the tiniest amount of exertion, but I was determined. It was only eight feet to the desk. If I couldn’t make it eight feet…

Holding on to the couch, I took one unsteady step, then two, and then I was faced with an obstacle. I had to let go. There were no other sturdy things I could grab onto to help me walk. I took a deep breath, and released my grip on the couch, straightening my back. My entire body felt like one big heavy piece of lead, my legs unwilling to hold my body up. I took another step.

My mind warped and spun, but I pressed on, taking another step.

I was only four feet from my desk. Halfway there…

However, on the next step, my feet tangled in themselves, and I toppled over, knocking onto the table, all the air being knocked out of me. I gasped, trying to get in a breath, but my lungs refused, my heart pounding out of my chest in panic. My hands blindly grabbed, looking for something, anything, to grasp and pull myself up with. All I could find was carpet.

Something hurt, something below my waist. Did I break something? A hip? What was I, an old man? I mean, technically, I’m over a thousand years old, but my body…it’s still the body of a young man, or a man in his early thirties, at the very most. I shouldn’t have broken anything. But something ached and throbbed, screaming when I moved my right leg. Yeah, definitely a hip.

With each frantic attempt I made at breathing, something inside me pulled beneath the surface, squeezing my lungs, like a hand had a firm hold on each one, refusing to let them get air. I could feel the pressure building in my head. I was being suffocated.

I writhed around on the floor like that for what felt like forever until I heard voices on the other side of my door.

“Yeah. I’m staying in here with him.”

“You want me to bring your paperwork here?”

“Yeah.”

Scorpio! Krioff!

I opened my mouth to scream for them, but no sound came out.

My hands flailed against the floor, trying to find something to grab onto. I had to get their attention! And then I found a paperweight. Yes!

My left hand fumbled with the sheer weight of the normally light object, but I managed to get ahold of it and I launched it clumsily toward my doors; it slammed into them.

“The hell?”

When they opened, the first thing I saw was Scorpio, whose expression went from irritated to horror-stricken faster than I had ever seen it go before.

“Zig!”

The second there were other people with me, the iron-tight grip on my lungs vanished, and I could breathe again. I gasped in frantic, greedy breaths, coughing and sputtering.

“What the hell happened?”

Krioff cried as he and Scorpio began to pick me up.

“I…fell,” I gasped. “Be careful…I think I broke my hip.”

“You broke…?”

“Let’s take him to his bed.”

They laid me carefully on my bed, watching me flinch when I rolled onto my back, and Scorpio put his hands on his hips.

“The fuck were you doing? Were you walking?”

I looked away sheepishly.

“You left paperwork and I…I wanted to help somehow. I’m sorry, Scorpio. I just made everything worse.”

Immediately, Scorpio sighed, closing his eyes, and biting his lower lip. It looked like he was ready to cry.

“Don’t apologize. It ain’t your fault. If I could just get that sonofabitch to talk…” He turned and rubbed his temples, pacing back and forth.

“I’m going to go get Ichthys. He can heal your hip.” Krioff said, turning to leave.

“But his mortality…” I whispered.

“The king has dealt with that, don’t worry.” He said, waving his hand reassuringly.

And with that, he left, jogging out the doors in search of Ichthys.

I rolled my head to look at Scorpio.

“Scorpio…I’m sorry,” I said.

“What did I say about apologizing?” Scorpio asked, turning back to look at me.

“No, not for me refusing to acknowledge my limitations…for me not acknowledging you.”

Scorpio went stiff. His one visible eye widened, and I swear I saw his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“Don’t do this, man. Don’t talk like you’re gonna die, okay? Because you’re not. You’re not gonna die.”

“Scorpio. I am dying. You understand that, but you don’t accept it. I have to tell you this, okay?”

His jaw clenched tight, and he nodded once, his motions robotic.

“I’ve known for a long time, Scorpio. I just didn’t want to…to hurt you. Because I’m not…or I can’t…either way, you’re my Vice Minister and more importantly, you’re my best friend, so I ignored it in favor of not ruining everything.” He nodded again, blinking several times. “But I don’t have any doubt you’ll find someone. You’re quite popular.”

He snorted.

“I’m an asshole.”

“A popular asshole.”

Just then, Krioff returned with Ichthys.

…

A few days later, Leon and Scorpio left me with Karno, Teorus and Ichthys to run an errand. The room was quiet, so much so that I could practically hear the curse coursing through my body. It was the very pulse of my veins, infecting my blood, caging me within myself. Just breathing was enough to exhaust me.

It had thickened my blood to the point that it slowed my heart down to a mere sixty-three beats per minute, making my body ache with each passing heartbeat. I closed my eyes. Living was agony anymore.

The door opened, and in walked Leon and Scorpio followed by an unfamiliar girl. She was wearing a dingy white day dress and had slightly tangled, long chocolate brown hair. Her skin was snow white and her features were delicate. Her eyes fell on me, and her expression morphed, changing from curiosity to one of mute horror. Yeah. That’s pretty much what I expected.

“Eden. This is Zyglavis. The Minister of the Department of Punishments.” Leon said.

I blinked, a little confused. Was there any reason to introduce a stranger to me? I didn’t even sense any divine energy from her. Was she a human?

“Eden. Eden…Eden!” Leon shook her, and she jerked away from him, her movements smooth and graceful, like flowing water.

“Yes?” She croaked. Even though her voice broke, it was gentle and so…beautiful. Like a chorus of bells.

“Zyglavis is cursed, and the curse is killing him. We need you to save him.”

“You…want me to turn him?”

I frowned. Turn…me? What did she mean by that?

The gods collectively freaked out when they realized what Eden was—a vampire, hand-picked by Leon, Scorpio, and the king himself directly from the Department of Creatures to save me. But for whatever reason…she didn’t frighten me. Not as much as dying did. Eden seemed kinder and gentler than all the vampires I had come across in my time, safer. She protested turning me against my will, demanding to know if anyone asked me if becoming a vampire was what I wanted, and, no. No one asked me. It wasn’t what I wanted. But if I had to choose, I would pick it a million times.

I would go through the pain of becoming a vampire for eternity if it meant being with her. Touching her, hearing her lovely voice, holding her hand, kissing her, loving her…I would take all the pain over and over and over again, if it meant that I could be with Eden. Take it, and be grateful for it. She gave me a reason to live. She gave me a beautiful daughter. She gave me my own family. I suppose, in a way, I must be grateful toward Diefropos for cursing me. He brought Eden and I together.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him brought to justice.

…

Eden POV

The vision ends with Zyglavis feeling that he must be somewhat grateful toward the god who cursed him, and I come back to reality. The other gods just stare at us. Apparently they didn’t see the vision. My eyes rest on Scorpio, who cocks his head at me.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.” I murmur.

So Scorpio had…maybe even he still does, have feelings for Zyglavis. I can’t help but feel badly for him.

Zuben takes a deep breath.

“You went through all that suffering,” He whispers. “All that pain…by Diefropos’ hand.”

Zyglavis nods once.

“Yes. We’re trying to find him, but like I said, if he’s hiding on Earth, it’ll be extremely difficult to find him.”

Zuben’s expression is one of extreme anger and hurt.

“I’m so sorry, my son. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything to me.”

Zuben lifts his eyes.

“No. That’s not true.”

He slowly moves his head to look into the trees, his lip curling disdainfully. With a growl, his body turns and he darts into the forest.

“Father!”

Zyglavis takes off after him.

I turn and look at Leon. I don’t need to say anything, he just nods, and I begin after the father and son.

It doesn’t take long for me to find them—they only ran about twelve miles from the clearing—to another, smaller area where a small cabin sits, looking run down and abandoned. The roof sinks in toward its center due to a rotting tree lying on it, moss taking over every wall I can see, and the south facing windows are either boarded up or broken.

“Zyglavis…” I whisper, coming up behind him. He holds an arm out and curls it around my waist.

“Stay behind me.” He replies in the same tone.

“Get out here right now!” Zuben yells. His voice is cold and hard, like it was when I knew him before.

An eerie quiet takes over the area, the wind stilling and the crickets silencing, as if they know what is about to happen. I swear I hear someone giggle from the worn down cottage.

“I swear, if you don’t get out here right this instant, I’ll come in there and drag you out!”

“Ooh. So scary.”

A voice replies. This voice is deep and gravelly, low and chilling. The door opens, and someone steps out.

“Come here right now,” Zuben growls. “Diefropos.”

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