#he's perfectly capable of leaving but he did just sit there waiting off his hangover until Al and niff showed up!

[adyophene]

I headcanon that Husk used to turn up in weird places after a night of drinking.

[gabriel4sam]

Not love at first sight (But love at the sixty-third life defying idiocy), a CodyWan story

Written for @swbigbang, with the help of @kitcatkim in the role of the patient beta and @outernorth for artist (art just there)

Because all the other members of their small outpost were not in shape (read, hungover), Cody and Obi-Wan go on a small, simple, totally not possibilities of explosions supply run.

Cody comes back with a headache the size of Coruscant, a new hate of insectoids life. And a brand new significant other, in the shape of his exasperating General

 It’s not a hangover, it’s a hecatomb. Whatever Boil had put in his new still was a terrible, terrible idea. The entire Separatist Council could do pointes in tutus on the flight deck and the vode would neither see it, nor care about it.

Cody and Obi-Wan were the only ones not drinking the day before, them and the communication officers on duty. The communication officers because they were working, and Cody and Obi-Wan, well, because they like the occasion for the men to feel free, and they can’t with their superior officers in their company.

That doesn’t mean the men are supposed to feel free enough to incapacitate the whole bunch of idiots they are apparently in charge off.

“Latrine duties, the first time we do planet fall. The whole of them.” Cody grumbles, assessing the damage with a cold, clinical eye.

“How does that even work? Does every man have latrine duties for his own latrines? Do you make them install as many latrines as they are? ” Obi-Wan remarks. He’s the usual calm and composed Jedi Master Cody knows on the outside, but the Commander is pretty sure he’s laughing on the inside. Cody had met Quinlan Vos, ok? And he poured enough hard liquor in the man to obtain confidences. Confidences which horrified him, Obi-Wan had even less survival instincts than Cody thought, but confidences he can’t un-hear. He will know forever!

Or at least, he will know until a luckier droid kills him. Cody is not an optimist about clones living long, happy, fulfilling lives. He has eyes after all and a functioning brain.

Cody glares at Obi-Wan, just in case. He has learnt, in the two years since he took his position with his General, that Jedi react pretty well to glaring. Not that it stops them from doing stupid stuff, but at least, they feel guilty about it.

If they like the glaring party only. Commander Ponds had a lot of things to narrate about Mace Windu and the horrible, horrible conglomerate mogul.

Obi-Wan takes his most innocent air, something Cody stopped believing two days in their acquaintance, when his newly minted General had destroyed a whole block of warehouses on an unnamed moon and made a grown Hutt call for its parent. It had been a bad month for Obi-Wan. No need to judge. When innocents are in danger, the cost of the repairs is less a problem and more a number for the politicians to handle. And yes, Obi-Wan knows the money used could certainly be used in other useful ways, but no amount of credits could ever buy a life, in the eyes of a Jedi. But that day, when Cody, after a few, very stressful hours of radio-silence, had finally gotten back his General, slightly charred, the hostages, hungry and thirsty and exhausted but all of them in one piece, and a terrified Hutt, in the middle of a devastated battleground, he had understood better the warning of Alpha-17. There, Cody had sworn in petto to never underestimate his Jedi, despite the irreproachable manners, the swishing hair and the smile of a holo-star.

Together, they take the time to check every soldier, to make sure nobody was busy drowning in their own fluid because they were too hangover/still drunk, to roll over. Everybody is alive, and the communication officers are getting ready to do a double shift, and ready to nib their vode about it later.

“It’s a good thing we’re on down time,” Obi-Wan remarks, “I must confess, despite the talents of your brothers, I’m not quite sure we could withstand an attack from Grievous and his various cronies right now.”

“We would get our asses handed to us, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

Obi-Wan cautiously touches  one of the abandoned drink containers, with more care than he gives to explosives.

“What did he put in this thing?” he asks, fascinated.

“You’re not testing it!” Cody immediately retorts, because he knows his Jedi, “not in the name of science, curiosity or whatever.”

Obi-Wan touches the container a second time.

Cody could swear the thing moves in return, like it wants to be pet. Obi-Wan hums, his face interested and he leans a little more in the direction of the container. If the thing starts growing whatever strange means of locomotion is on its mind, Cody is using his blaster, no matter the General’s opinion. That’s how bad holo-dramas start, with an unknown thing unleashed on an unsuspecting ship/outpost/space station. He refuses to star in one of those plot-lacking dramas his brother Wolffe pretends he doesn’t love.

The thing doesn’t move anymore and Obi-Wan loses interest and goes back to helping troopers into their quarters and their bunks.

Cody helps, but that doesn’t mean he’s not plotting terrible retributions. He knows the last few weeks have been pretty hard, the hardest in a long time, that’s one of the reasons Obi-Wan and himself made themselves scarce last night. 

Now, they have a week just waiting for the Negotiator to come pick them up. One week for the men to rest and to heal and perhaps to train lightly…but that’s no reason for the sort of screw-up Cody is seeing right now. Boil and his still should be transferred from the 501th and put into whatever part of the army that handles studies about biological warfare. Biological warfare that the Republic officially doesn’t indulge in, studying it only as a way to protect its worlds against it. But Cody isn’t convinced. He has a lot of questions he will never ask about parts of the army which are not led by Jedi, and that the Jedi are trying, with no success, to have access too. Obi-Wan has promoted him so much that the Commander now has access to documents he’s pretty sure nobody thought a clone ever would. He’s staying silent for now. If the Jedi need help with that, if they fail, the vode will try, but Cody is keeping this ammunition in reserve. He can only fire it once, because when natural-borns who aren’t Jedi realize exactly how much power Obi-Wan and the Jedi council has given him and some of the other commanders, they will try to strip them of it, he just knows it.

At the end, everybody is moaning in their bunks, or manning communication, and Cody and Obi-Wan raid the nice rations, the ones with the green seals, no less food of unkown origins than the rest of it, but certainly the tastiest. They sit down at the entry of the outpost, sharing a canteen of water between them. They don’t talk, most of the time they don’t need to.

Cody isn’t really hungry but it’s easier to trick Obi-Wan into eating something when those who surround him do too. The warmth of the sun, the sounds of nature, the nice, and so rare, oh so rare, knowledge that they have a little free time instead of having to run to put out another fire. All of this is making Obi-Wan soften, like a carving of stone suddenly becoming pliable.

“Commander?” Cody’s holocom disturbs them, and Cody startles, suddenly realizing he was lost in the light playing into the copper of Obi-Wan’s hair.

“It’s nothing, really nothing probably,” the shiny in charge of this particular console explains to them, �� one of the new models of probes  should have been back twenty minutes ago. I tried to raise it per the procedure, but it isn’t answering.”

“We’re supposed to be alone on this world,” Obi-Wan remarks, a line forming between his brows.

“They are still working the kicks out of this model,” the shiny admits, “that’s why we used them specifically on this planet where they are in no danger. We’re supposed to go back with all of them, for study, to hammer out the last problems.”

The line between the General’s brows is growing deeper.

“I will make a report to the Council about the danger it could pose to you, to send any vode on the field with materials not totally ready, and the Jedi Order will issue a formal protest.” His shoulders are tense. No matter the number of tries, the Jedi are blocked at every corner in the Senate in their efforts to better the life of the clones, even in the small things and it’s a terrible possibility that this time will be the same.

“You know what? We should go check ourselves,” Cody decides, because he wants to erase that line, that tension. “Since Boil poisoned the men, we could do it. A little trek in fresh air before breathing the recycled air in the Negotiator again.”

“Oh Cody, I can do it myself,” Obi-Wan offers immediately, “you don’t have a lot of free time-“

“Funny, I would have sworn you didn’t know the concept…”

“I am perfectly capable of knowing when my body needs down time.”

“That’s not what Master Erin said.”

And that’s how they leave the base.

It’s almost noon, birds or other small things Cody can’t honestly identify are chirping, the air is crisp and fresh, and the sky is only slightly purple, with no risk of rain. No matter how many worlds he sees, Cody is still out of countenance on worlds where the combination of gases in the atmospheres and stars emitting other waves than the Kamino sun combine to give entire landscapes strange colours. Most of the time, he’s wearing his helmet which filters the strangeness of it, and it’s only at the end of the battle, when he takes it off, that he realizes everything is weirdly green-tainted.

Also, he’s pretty sure Arc Trooper Fives was lying when he told him once he visited a world on a body guarding mission with his own Jedi were everything was glittering. He’s not putting any money on it, because Skywalker and his men were guarding the Naboo Senator. From what Cody observes, when Naboo people enter the scene, glitter just happens. He also thinks Fives is much better being Rex’s problem than his own.

Most of their supplies have already been packed for retrieval, so Cody and Obi-Wan only took one hover bike out, and for now Obi-Wan is piloting, Cody behind, and the Commander is beginning to think he made a tactical error. The plastoid of his armour is supposed to stop him from feeling Obi-Wan’s warmth, but Cody could swear he can still feel it. For all that the Jedi can seem aloof and strange, nothing makes him remember his General is flesh and blood than encircling a linen-warped waist with his arms.

 The world passes around them, the colours of the trees, the playful course of the clouds in the sky, the peaceful scenery of a wild world, with its inherent qualities and defaults. Cody likes those worlds better, untouched by sentient life. Growing up in the sterility of Kamino, there is something intoxicating in nature running its course, forests giving way to meadows, biotopes decided by climates and geology, and not by a careful hand arranging them for the maximal profits in their exploitation.

Cody understands about the need for fresh territory, with the growth of population, but certainly, certainly the most carefully hidden part of him insists quite vehemently, there must be another solution than the desolation of grey and pollution that is Coruscant. Something else than seeing the poorest people of the Republic living in deplorable conditions, never seeing the fresh green of a new leaf, as the richest ones can sample the delights of nature in carefully constructed reserves?

More and more, Cody is curious about the Agricorps, and their works to restore degraded biotopes, but he had the vague impression, when he asked questions about it to his General, that it’s a difficult subject for him.

Probably, Obi-Wan wanted to go into the Agricorps and they didn’t want him to, for whatever reasons. Cody thinks it’s more glorious to restore nature and to help feed a community than to go to war, like Obi-Wan is doing right now, or to negotiate treaties, which he vaguely thinks is Obi-Wan’s job in time of peace.

Cody’s thoughts drift gently as the journey continues, going from nature’s beauty to the exact shade of Obi-Wan’s hair when he has been under a natural sun for more than a few hours. The way the copper of it becomes richer and richer…. After a little less than two hours, they switch pilots, and Cody does his best to keep his thoughts on track. It would be stupid to crash just because he’s distracted by a flight of birds taking off with the noise of the bikes, no matter how graceful they are. He concentrates on piloting, and not on the presence of Obi-Wan behind him, his arms around Cody, and not in the colours of the forest around them, and the bucolic impression of their little expedition.

The last known position of their wayward probe put it next to a small lake, four hours away on hover bike, at the base of the mountainous regions. If this part of the world was in winter season, the most logical reason for their missing probe would be a mudslide.  Cody told in his reports time and time again that the probes should fly higher, that the field itself is much less friendlier than believed in the labs, but apparently nobody listens to him.

It’s the end of spring on this part of the planet, the probe was probably eaten by a giant fish, or something equally undignified.

They unseat on a single beach, the last known location. No more probe there than dignity and decency in the Senate. Nothing. No blackened hull of the thing if it had exploded under mysterious circumstances, best known as shoddy work in the conception. Not even a trace they could track back.

Cody turns on himself, surveying the landscape. Vegetation, mountains, peaceful lapping of water on the beach, more mountains with their snowy capes, a lot of weird looking trees. For a vacation, it would be peaceful. For missing military equipment, it’s sadly lacking.

“By incredible luck, you wouldn’t sense our missing flying friend in the Force?” Cody asks, because that would simplify things. That would simplify things, so of course the answer is no. As Obi-Wan struggles with putting together the scanner, Cody gathers pieces of driftwood, intending to start a fire. If they have to circle on foot, on uneven ground, to find the probes, nothing says they can’t do it after another meal next to a warm fire. In the harsh reality of war, Cody has learnt to wisely enjoy the few moments of peace, and he would very much like to teach that skill to his General. Obi-Wan is supposed to have decades of experience in him, but apparently he’s not aware that every sentient has their limits.

Cody is less than twenty meters from the Jedi and the hoverbike, facing Obi-Wan, his arms already full of a nice load when he sees Obi-Wan let go of the scanner, which tumbles on the stones, and turns to him, a hand already at his waist, reaching for his lightsaber.

“Cod-“ Obi-Wan yells, but the sound doesn’t reach Cody, as the stones give way under him, shifting in a dip of grey sand and Cody is gulped down like Master Yoda gobbles a small fish.

For a second, he can’t breathe, there is sand everywhere around him, on his skin, in his mouth, infiltrating his armour by the neck, and the wood in his arms squeeze against his ribs. He feels he’s gonna get crushed alive and he struggles with all his strength. Death has always been the end but he wanted to leave in combat. He can feel unconsciousness threatening and just before it would take him, he’s spit up violently and he rolls over with the momentum, the driftwood, the sand, and a few bits of the armour which didn’t survive the experience.

He can see someone lean over him, no more than a silhouette, because it’s so dark, he can feel the sand under his head, and also the head wound and the blood seeping out of it, and he takes a long breath, and it burns, all the way to his lungs, and then he knows no more.

For a long time, Cody floats. He dreams. Or he hallucinates.

He’s on Kamino again and he learns the world is without mercy for him and his brothers.

He’s training and he can feel Alpha-17’s eyes on him, pensive.

He’s very young and he doesn’t understand where the last of his batche went.

He’s older and he’s meeting his first Jedi, General Tii, and she always has a nice word for every clone, but her eyes are terribly sad every step she takes on Kamino.

He’s meeting Rex and their friendship soars instantly.

He’s seeing brothers dying and he’s seeing rescues and the world is a never ending war, but Cody refuses to let that be the only thing his brothers will know. He watches and he checks and he learns and he places his brothers the best he can, and he’s evaluating Jedi and people, and planets and his mind never stops.

Cody wakes up. General Plo Koon is leaning over him and Cody lets relief seize him, until he realizes something is wrong. No eye covers, no breathing masks, and as much as Cody can see in the very low light, the thick leathery hide acting as skin is much lighter than Plo Koon’s. A Kel Dor, but not the Jedi Master that the Wolffe’s pack would follow to the end of the galaxy and beyond.

After a few seconds of his brain going round in circles, it finally stops at a very important point: Kel Dor and humans don’t breathe the same atmosphere, and this Kel Dor is without breathing apparels. Cody goes to put a hand on his mouth in instinctual movement, like he could stop himself from suffocating, but the other lays a hand on Cody’s forearm, his entire body language non-threatening, and says something he can’t understand. That’s when Cody realizes something translucent is surrounding his head, like a bubble inflating and deflating with every breath he takes. He pokes it, very carefully. It’s flexible, slightly sticky and it smells earthy, a little like those mushrooms his General insisted he try once, when he took him to his friend Dex dinner.

Cody takes a careful breath. He doesn’t die in terrible suffering, so he takes another one. The air entering his lungs still seems appropriate for his species. He tries to sit up, moving very slowly to make the stranger understand he’s not attacking, and the Kel Dor helps him.

Seated, he can better observe the place around him. He has been placed on a pallet of light fur, in some sort of carved place, the walls decorated, not in paint, but in carving, and his armour is against one of the walls, carefully stacked. Cody wants to touch his head, where he was hurt, but once again the Kel Dor stops him before he touches the bubble. The only light comes from a small clay bowl full of sizzling oil, where a wick has been adapted. It doesn’t give enough light to help Cody see more than the small room and a crude overture in the stone, leading to more darkness. He can’t even study perfectly the features of the Kel Dor, more than to be sure it’s definitely not Master Koon.

The Kel Dor says something again and Cody makes a frustrated noise.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.” The other doesn’t seem to understand that, so Cody tries Mando’a, with the same result. 

He tries the Galactic Sign Language, no results. 

He knows a few signs of the Alderaan Sign Language, the one from their Southern Hemisphere. Queen Organa taught him a few lessons once during a lockdown in the Royal Palace when he was guarding her, between grumbling about clones’s rights and what her husband better do about it in the Senate, and Cody learns fast. The Kel Dor still doesn’t react in any useful way.

“A common language would be pretty useful to know if I’m your guest or your prisoner,” Cody jokes. Sarcasm now. He’s spending too much time with his General.

He shifts, trying to see if he will be stopped from standing, but the other only helps him, carefully arranging on Cody’s torso the ending of the bubble. Now that Cody studies it more attentively, he’s sure the stuff is organic. It’s like they forced his head and the superior part of his torso into some sort of ring of weird looking mushrooms, the mycelium of one of them extended around his head. If this is producing oxygen for him, he really doesn’t want to disturb it.

The world tilts when he stands up but the Kel Dor pushes a shoulder under Cody’s arm and they go out. When Cody passes his armour, he fetches his blaster, and the other doesn’t stop him. Either he doesn’t understand it’s a weapon, or he doesn’t think Cody will attack him. Her? Them? Are Kel Dol gendered beings?

Exiting the small room, Cody can’t see. Everything is dark around them. He can hear movements and the air around him has the quality of an enormous space. A cave, he would think, but the little lamp his new friend has in his claws is not enough.

“Of course,” Cody remarks, “your eyes are much much better. You don’t need a bank of lamps.” He almost jumps when someone joins them and if his head wasn’t still ringing, he probably would have attacked, but it’s only another Kel Dor, smaller, with a skin more brown. They ask something to the first one, but again, there is no sense for Cody.

He’s guided to a stone bench and the little lamp is pushed into his hands. Kel Dor are going in and out of the little circle and Cody tries to evaluate how many of them there are, but he’s, to his great shame, not good enough to distinguish between the Kel Dor easily. He can isolate one or two who have more evident features for a human, like one missing an arm, but the rest of them, all dressed in a very similar way with some furs identical to those Cody woke up on, and the alien features. Cody feels anger against himself. He judges natural borns for not making an effort to distinguish between the vode, despite their efforts to gain their own identity by tattoos or dyes, and he shouldn’t be victim of the same bias.

Finally, someone sits next to him. Cody studies their face, trying to commit them to memory.

 People don’t seem unfriendly. He’s pretty sure the one he woke up with is some sort of local healer, and that it is this one who came back to him several times. Children even come to him, chattering in their language in a way which makes him think of the younger ones on Kamino, before some of their batches started to disappear and they started to understand what their fate in the world would be. A particularly daring little one climbs onto his lap and Cody looks around, ready to see the parent arrive and take its offspring from the strange being. But this community seems so peaceful nobody sees a problem with the child on the stranger's lap.

The little one shows him his treasure, a cube deeply carved with symbols Cody can’t decipher. Of course. In a world without sun, carving must be a medium and painting, or writing, must be inexistent.

“It’s a very nice cube,” he says to the little one, whose gender he can’t decipher. If Kel Dor have gender. He’s pretty sure he heard once that the biggest number of genders registered for a sentient species was eight, and the smaller zero, but he has no idea for this species.

The child seems pretty happy with the answer, even if they can’t understand it any more than Cody can understand their own opinion, expressed in an uninterrupted flow.

Around him, he can vaguely perceive people going about their day. How calm. How reposing. Nevertheless, peaceful or not, Cody can’t breathe the same atmosphere as them, and the strange organic concoction they put on his head to help will soon find its limits. He’s getting thirsty, for once, and he can’t drink without taking the thing off, which he can't. And that’s not even thinking about his General, who must be trying to reach him by any means the Force gives him.

If he knows Cody is alive.

No, no, he must know.

And even if the Force, whose exact limitations Cody is quite unsure of, even if the Force can’t tell Obi-Wan Cody is alive, Obi-Wan is not exactly a man to just go back to the outpost and declare him dead. He will search and search and search, and bring Cody back alive to his vode, or his body for his brothers to honour.

Cody knows: it had been a terrible row between the Jedi on one part and the Kaminoan and the Senate on another, this refusal to abandon dead clones bodies to the elements.

And, to the surprise of the Senate who was in the habits to bully the Jedi for centuries, the Jedi hadn’t budged. But Cody had seen what it had cost them: the Senate had made them pay, in late important reports who the Jedi needed for the war efforts, on refusal of important supplies, suddenly labelled unessential…

So, Obi-Wan is searching for him at the moment, and Cody needs to go to him. The ringing in his head, present since he woke up, has slightly diminished, and he has walked with more grievous wounds.

The question is now: how to mime exit to the Kel Dor, how to ask for a guide? Because if he has to feel around the cave until he finds an exit, he will, but that would be so much easier.

“Hoping there is an exit into your cave, little one,” he says to the child, who is falling asleep on his lap, “because if I have to drill through the roof to the exterior of the planet, it’s gonna cause breathing problems for your city.”

An adult approaches them, a long plaid in their hands, and they mime Cody putting it around his shoulders. Instead, Cody wraps the little one in it and puts the resulting bundle into the adult’s arms.

“I don’t suppose you could send me to the nearest exit?” He asks, and of course, the Kel Dor doesn’t have an answer.

He takes the little lamp and leaves to explore. He can’t see well more than two meters from the circle of light, and even with it, his eyes are struggling.

Soon, he’s stopped by a wall, which he follows until he finds a low door, with only a curtain. He risks an eye, feeling quite voyeuristic, but he only sees something resembling a storage space, big amphoras against a wall.

He continues to follow the wall, finds another one, loses himself in what is a succession of low houses. Above him, the roof of the cavern is still invisible and he can’t see the walls. He finds another little place with stone benches.

Or is it the same?

No, even underground, Cody is sure of his sense of direction. It’s another one place, and the city is bigger than he thought possible. He’s also walking way too slowly, because of the problem of light and his still ringing head.

“Kriff,” he whispers, sitting down on one of the benches.

“Obi-Wan, please find me,” he whispers before scolding himself. He’s no melodrama maiden, he is perfectly capable of finding the surface again by himself.

A burly Kel Dor approaches him, mushrooms in his claws and says something.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Cody tries to explain. The other sits next to him and gesticulates to the mushrooms helping, he thinks, him to breath, and when Cody doesn’t do anything, he starts placing the ones he brought against the first ones. They seem to merge in a frankly disgusting scene which is probably mushrooms porn.

“Does that mean you need to change them regularly for me to breathe?” Cody asks, despite knowing he won’t receive an answer he can understand.

 To add another problem to the long list Cody is already shouldering on, the cave floor starts to tremble and people start yelling.

People are yelling, and despite the language barrier, Cody can understand the panic with no problems.

The soil beneath his feet grumbles again. There is a sound like a rockslide, and more yells, and terror is the taste at the back of Cody’s throat, because he still can’t kriffin see.

Finally, the trembling is so terrible he’s thrown on his knees and the sound reaches a crescendo as a great light emerges from the rock soil, three hundred meters from where Cody is kneeling. It’s some sort of giant worm, with a maw higher than Cody. It roars and glows even brighter, the bioluminescence of its chitin almost dazzling for Cody himself.

 All around Cody, Kel Dor are yelling and struggling on their feet with great difficulties, as the rock soil is still trembling. The beast roars again and it sounds like a thousand ships taking off at the same time in the confined environment. As Cody is helping a Kel Dor to their feet, the pandemonium reaches an even higher spike as another worm emerges, further than the first, and the quake of the rock sends them flat on their bellies.

Cody really regrets letting Boil distribute his production yesterday, what he wouldn’t give for ten men and a rotary canon right now! Even for Hardcase, who he’s really happy is most of the time Rex’s problem, and his tastes for explosives.

He hoists himself more or less vertical, swearing all he can at the same time. He helps the Kel Dor to their feet again and then assesses the situation.

The lights of the worms let him have a good gaze for the first time at the enormous cavern they are in and the low buildings in it. Behind them he can even see big overtures, probably an entire network of caverns. An entire city in the dark, deep in the soil, protected from the outside world and its atmosphere which the Kel Dor can’t breathe, and from the Republic scanners which never knew they were there.

Protected from the sun, too.

And now that the light has come to them in the form of predators, they are defenceless. Cody can see people trying to flee, with a hand on their eyes, and with no success. By the time Cody has succeeded in approaching the scene of the disaster, at least three Kel Dor have been swallowed.

One of the worms, the closest, roars again and Cody doesn’t lose time: the maw, unprotected by the chitin covering the body, seems like a perfect target.

He raises his blaster and fires.

Another roar, even more deafening, as blood splatters all around in a gorish scene. A good part of the mandible has exploded, but the beast isn’t dead. It strikes, trying to gobble Cody like it did the poor Kel Dor. The difference is that the Commander can see in the light, on the contrary of the first victims. He evades just in time to escape certain death.

He rolls over and raises his blaster a second time, but the angle is worse than the first time, and the shot dampens itself on the chitin with no more effect than darkening it, and enraging the worm even more. 

Again, it tries to kill Cody and the man dances out of range, blessing the hours of training the Jedi gave all of them. It had been the first thing the Jedi had done, because they thought the training the vode had received on Kamino didn’t focus enough on the art of dodging.

Cody never told them it was because the trainers and the Kaminoans thought the vode easily expandable and more useful for a suicide strike. He suspects the Jedi knew, if the way they act around the Kaminoans is proof.

Dodging, advancing, retreating, taking a shot every time he sees an overture, Cody fights, more a reflex than anything, to protect the Kel Dor. He wouldn’t refuse a little help; with spears even if they don’t have other weapons, but the cavern inhabitants are useless. They are not even running away from the worms, full of the terror of death, and the light, which have come in their city.

Nevertheless, the issue of the fight was never a real question. Even hurt and far away from his usual fighting grounds, Cody was bred a warrior and he had honed the skills given to him by his genetic donor all his life. The worm, a female, is in the habit of only fighting other female worms during the mating season for access to the best breeding ponds and to gobble Kel Dor and every animal it could. It never had to fight a sentient being, especially one with a blaster.

The blaster’ shots finally damage the roof of its mouth enough and one of them burns its path to the brain. The beast dies immediately, but the nervous system needs time to receive that message. For a moment, Cody fears the convulsions of the enormous body will cause the entire caves system to collapse on their heads.

When the movements finally stop, he vaults himself over a rock slide, caused by the events, and approaches carefully. The worm is still partially obscured by the rock he emerges from, but Cody can see a good twenty meters of it. He’s bringing back a chitin part to the GAR, because he wants ships protected like that!

A sudden movement to his left makes him turn, but too late. His zoological fascination has caused Cody to make a horrible, rookie mistake, the sort of mistake which makes a rookie never have an occasion to become something other than a rookie.

For a moment, he had forgotten there was a second worm.

He brandishes his weapon, but it’s too late. Only his reflexes save him from being cut in two, but a razor sharp incisor scraps against his armour, parting it like butter and only missing the skin by half a centimetre. The worm has no interest in the Kel Dor, no matter how easy prey they are. It just wants to kill the stubborn little creature who just killed its mother. His blaster clatters on the rock, too kriffin far away. Cody rolls on himself, tries for it, but he already knows it’s too late, when the sound of a lightsaber being ignited announces the arrival of the cavalry, just in time.

Obi-Wan Kenobi arrives on the scene like an armed deux ex machina. He’s wearing Cody’s helmet in order to breath in the cavern and death is burning light-blue in his hand. Rare are the materials which can resist the power of a lightsaber, and Obi-Wan doesn’t take chances with Cody’s life, no matter how he is repelled by the taking of a life, even an animal one. The head of the worm falls on the other side of the body as Obi-Wan is still airborne from one of those improbable jumps Force Sensitive do. The second his feet touch the rock; he’s rushing to Cody, trying to assess his health.

Across the galaxy, Anakin suddenly sits down in the marital bed, sending Padmé, who was asleep across his torso, tumbling into the sheets by the violence of his movements. The vision of a chitinous torso opening, full of meaty juice, dances before his eyes.

“Ani?” The young Senator asks, once he has succeeded in making her put down the blaster she retrieved from even the Force doesn’t know where. Padmé doesn’t do peaceful when she’s woken up abruptly, something he learned quickly in their marriage. Convincing the handmaiden that every noise inside their bedroom wasn’t a murder attempt and that they shouldn’t rush in, weapons drawn, was another interesting adjustment to the married life.

“I just.….I’m not sure…” He tries to grip what woke him up, but it already has disappeared. “I think I’m hungry,” he admits, “sorry to have interrupted your sleep.”

“The droids can make you something,” she suggests, burrowing into the nest of pillows, less prone to sudden shifting.

“Do you think we have insects?” He asks.

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

“Cody! Cody, are you alright?”

“Obi-Wan, General, are you hurt?” Cody and Obi-Wan ask at the same time, hands searching, patting the other bodies in gestures less destined to triage of wounds and more to the simple animal need for contact.

“The air of the cavern isn’t breathable for us,” Obi-Wan says, after a few seconds and Cody nods: “I deduced that, but the thing on my head….it’s helping.”

“How did you deduce such a- Oh, um, hello.”

Around them, the Kel Dor have begun to assemble, all of them an arm on their face, trying to protect their eyes.

“Your lightsaber, turn it off,” Cody says and, making something purr in the Commander’s chest, Obi-Wan immediately obeys, no question, no hesitation.

The Kel Dors guide them away from the scene of the carnage. Cody sees a few of them with stone machetes and axes, already working on taking apart the pale flesh of the worms, working from the wounds Cody and Obi-Wan made, as the chitin is too hard on other places of the big bodies.

Cody watches for a few seconds. One of a Kel Dor yanks open the cranial cavity. Cody turns to the other side very quickly, because butchering enormous worms is apparently more than his battle-hardened stomach can take. Nothing should make the noise an axe makes against flesh.

Cody finds his little lamp again. It’s not even extinguished, the events haven’t probably lasted more than ten minutes. The universe is a hard place, thinks Cody, where he could get eaten by any abomination with too much teeth in less time than an oil lamp runs its course.

They sit next to each other on the closest bench and in the halo of the lamp, Cody inspects his General better. He’s covered in stone dust and whatever else disgusting stuff is on his tunic: he probably crawled his way there.

The adrenaline is still burning through Cody, and joy too, as he turns to his General. On the whole, he misses the days life was simpler on Kamino, with no worms for example, but on Kamino, he never heard the sound of a lightsaber and knew, with a certainty so burning it could have well resonated in the Force, that he was saved. There is comfort, in the hard world he’s living in, in the certainty that his General will tear apart entire solar systems to rescue any clones. That all Jedi would. For a clone, raised to be interchangeable, this strong-willed refusal to leave even one of them behind is a balm to the soul.

“You found me,” he says, and he tries to infuse that with professionalism, and fails miserably.

“I will always find you,” Obi-Wan promises. It’s strange to talk to him like that, with Cody’s helmet on his head. Cody hadn’t realized he relied so much on the Jedi’s face to understand him.

“Yes, sir, but for a moment, I confess I thought you would more, avenge me or something.”

Obi-Wan touches his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have been so long,” he says, “the system of caves proved itself tricky, and the Force insisted I couldn’t just blow up my way inside.”

“That would let the atmosphere on the outside enter,” Cody theorized, “and I think, our hosts….”

Like they have been summoned, two Kel Dor approach them. They are dressed as simply as all the others Cody has seen, but on the bust of the smaller one, there is some sort of ceremonial pectoral and it has a very big difference with everything Cody has seen since stepping into the cave. It’s in metal.

“Obi-Wan”, Cody whispers, “look at that.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t speak the language more than Cody. He can recognize it’s not the actual principal language of Kel Dor, which he has heard before, but no more than that. Nevertheless, it’s less a problem for a Jedi. He can feel in the Force other’s intentions, enough to understand easily that the people here don’t want to harm them, which Cody had deduced himself hours ago, and that they want to bring them to see something.

Cody is very happy to leave the dead bodies of the worms behind them.

And to  General Skywalker eats insects! Bless the Force that Skywalker is Rex’s Jedi.

One cave. Another. Another one.

“How many are there? How big are these caves?'' Cody asks. He’s tired, hungry, thirsty, and more or less ready to go back to camp, thank you very much.

They find a ship, or more, the skeleton of a ship, in the last part of the caves system, the deepest one. It’s less a cave, and more the memory of a crash. The ship has been cannibalized, years after years, of everything useful, to the latest scrap of metal, except for the framework.

“It was probably made with a metal too dense for the meagre set of tools they have,” Obi-Wan theorizes.

“I can’t recognize the type of  ship that is, the form itself is so strange,” Cody remarks, watching it with the eye of a man trained to recognize enemy and ally ships in a nano second in the middle of battle. Obi-Wan is touching the metal with his bare skin, with great reverence.

He always loved old things, his Jedi.

The happiest Cody had seen him was for a protection mission in a dusty archive, on a faraway world. General Skywalker was with them, and the young Ahsoka too, and the intel had been faulty. There had been no attack, Obi-Wan had had his Padawan and GrandPadawan close and safe, and spent his days making amorous noises at poetry treaties centuries old.

“It’s incredibly old. Probably before the foundation of the Republic."

"But that’s….that’s old as kriff."

"During the first time of space travel, ships weren’t as reliable. They probably are the descendants of a crew of explorers. After the crash, staying inside the caves was the only long-term possibility for them, if they hadn’t the means to produce enough respiratory apparatuses. It was the only way to survive for them.  Nevertheless, it stopped anyone from finding them. And little by little, they regressed technically and lost the way to contact the outside."

"Do you really think they would have travelled from their world without a way to breath on other planets?"

"Perhaps it was stocked in a part of the ship lost during the crash. Perhaps it was so long ago, it was long before the Kel Dor knew very few worlds have an atmosphere breathable for them…Every species has the tendency to think the world at large tailored for them.”

They don’t leave immediately. Obi-Wan is of the opinion that Cody is too tired to use the path he himself used to find him. And he’s probably right. Cody’s head is throbbing where he hurt it during his fall, but he doesn’t see how he could get better here, where he can’t eat or drink.

What follows is a game of mime between Obi-Wan and the Kel Dors which Cody won’t forget, ever, no matter how much Obi-Wan asks, and he regrets he doesn’t have a holocamera.

After a time, and an unforgettable time it was, Obi-Wan and he find themselves stashed in a little room, so low they can’t stand. It’s more a bed stuffed inside some sort of structure made in the same weird-looking, weird-smelling mushrooms. Cody takes off the bubble around his head and Obi-Wan takes off Cody’s helmet.

The red head has the worst case of helmet’s hair Cody has seen, ever and Cody can’t stop an unprofessional laugh around his first mouthful of fresh water.

“I don't Not a head made for helmets, do I?” the Jedi smiles, as he tore in two a strange looking loaf of bread.

They fall on the food, famished, and tease each other at the same time. There is water and what Cody thinks is some root vegetables, and flatbread, and some meat he isn’t touching with a ten foot pool, just in case it's giant worm.  

“If you swear to wear armour instead of linen in battle, I swear to the Force I will never mock your hair,” Cody smiles in return, and Obi-Wan makes a face, like he did already wear good, solid protection instead of tunic and leggings and whatever he calls the multiple layers of his Jedi’s clothes.

“I thought….for a moment, I thought…” Obi-Wan stops. It’s rare to see him lost for words, he of the Silver tongue, the Negotiator.

“I’m not dead,” Cody reiterates, because there is no need to beat around the bush. Even risking their lives every day the Force makes, nobody likes the kick of adrenaline when one of your men is missing. It never becomes normal. It never should.

“And yet, for a second I thought you were. When I saw the earth opening under your feet and gobbling you. And when I arrived during your battle, the Force trumpeting in my heart about the mortal danger you were running to.”

“The Kel Dor were pretty useless against those things. Couldn’t let them get eaten like that. Not when they rescued me and helped me.”

“I know. I know. And I would have done exactly the same thing.”

Obi-Wan sits on the bed, less gracefully than he usually does. From where he’s leaning against the mushroom wall, Cody stares. He can see the lines around his mouth, and after his late-night conversation with Master Quinlan Vos, he knows they aren’t from laughing. He can see the lines at the edges of the eyes, discreet for now, a little more present every day. He can see the first traces of grey on the temples, simply a trace of silver in the red mane…. He’s, almost, sure there was no grey at the beginning of the war, he has seen the holos of Obi-Wan against Prime, against Jango, all those years ago, on Kamino.

Obi-Wan is burning too bright, burning himself.

And Obi-Wan isn’t the only one not getting younger. The accelerated aging isn’t exactly good for Cody’s health, starting with his knees.

One day, he won’t be quick enough for the next giant, bioluminescent man-gobbling worm. Or Obi-Wan will be too tired against Grievous. Since they met, an assignment Commander- General decided by Alpha-17 himself, their life has been full of Separatist assassins, murderous fauna, Sith assassins, murderous geology, Separatist assassins pretending to be Sith assassins, and Sith assassins pretending to be Separatists assassins, brain-washed murderous Senators, murderous flora, murderous black holes, and one time a murderous sentient ship.

The whole galaxy is conspiring to kill clones and Jedi, for what Cody can see.

If his math is right, he survived today the sixty-third attempt on his life from Fate since he left Kamino. Obi-Wan was there for most of them, and Cody was around for the latest attempts on Obi-Wan’s life.

And one day, it will stop.

Cody opens his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. Life is short and he’s a soldier slave, he doesn’t have the luxury to wait for another time.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says, and Obi-Wan looks like he has been whacked on the skull with a heavy object. It’s not exactly his best face, mouth round in surprise, and Cody only feels affection. Then Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a smile like a sun, blinding, warm, and the Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

The Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

He doesn’t speak. Not yet. His head against Cody, his breath sharing Cody’s own air, they close their eyes, and Cody experiences the strange idea that he’s detaching himself from his brothers.

For the first time, there is something in his hands, or well, in his heart, that he doesn’t want to share with Wolffe or Boil, or even Rex, who has become his closest brother.

He doesn’t want to hide Obi-Wan from them, but he wants….

He hasn’t the words. Not yet.

But, with Obi-Wan at his side, he hopes he will learn them.

And he hopes his brothers too can find something, or someone, so precious they need to share the joy of knowing it, but also to keep it to themselves, like he wants to keep to himself the smile of Obi-Wan when Cody tells “I love you”, or the small freckles at the side of his mouth, visible only so, so, so close.

The first “I love you” Cody hears from Obi-Wan is whispered against his lips.

The first kiss tastes of the bread offered by the Kel Dor, of the cave’s dust and it’s perfect.

They’re still in the same situation, two exhausted men, in a cave full of toxic gases, only protected from them by some unknown mushrooms exuding oxygen, and Cody feels like he could take over the entire Republic. He sleeps curved around Obi-Wan, like two parts of the same whole, touching as much as they can, and if the headache from his head wound brings Cody to the surface a few times during their nap, he feels rejuvenated after it.

After, the Kel Dor help them find the surface and Cody and Obi-Wan leave their new friends, hand in hand, quite happy to find back the sun and the sky, the fresh air of a late morning…and almost all their men crawling around their area, trying desperately to find them.

Obi-Wan keeps Cody’s hand in his and a few brothers less intimidated than others by Cody’s glare, embarrassed and proud at the same time, even bumped their big brother’s shoulders as a sign of congratulation. Obi-Wan immediately goes red, like he’s a teen on his first crush, and not a seasoned Jedi Master whose touch can bring life or death. 

Cody finds it adorable. 

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

It’s the middle of the night shift on the Negotiator, but Cody is still working on a different time zone, so he lets Obi-Wan sleep peacefully in their shared bunk. Their shared bunk! A notion that still makes him giddy like a shiny at their first kiss, even a month after getting together. They are taking things pretty slow, or in the wrong order, Cody isn’t sure, they sleep in the same bunk every night, but haven’t got very far in term of sex, and this perfect, because this is them, and not some sort of artificial list of relationship’s milestone. And Cody already knows, deep in his soul, that he will never love a man like he loves this one, even if Obi-Wan is killed tomorrow, and he’s sure it’s the same for Obi-Wan. 

The Negotiator is in route to join with the Steadfast, so General Koth is on board after a conjoined mission where Obi-Wan and him gave Cody new grey hairs. He finds him easily in the mess, demolishing a healthy serving. The stamps outside the rations are a different colour than the ones Cody and his brothers eat.

“Can I join you?” Cody asks.

“Of course,” Eeth Koth immediately answers and the chair on the other side of the table moves on its own, offering itself for the Commander. Cody arches a brow.

“Don’t tell Obi-Wan,” the General jokes, “or I will endure a lesson for frivolous use of the Force.”

Cody sits and they stay silent for a moment, the General apparently happy to let him come to his questions in peace, continuing to eat his meal. Despite being tailored for a different species’ nutritional needs, it looks exactly as unappetizing as most rations Cody is used too. 

“General Ke-“

“You can call him Obi-Wan in front of me,” Eeth Koth interrupts. “There is no need to be ashamed of what binds you.” He grimaces. “Force knows we will all need all the comfort we can get before everything is set and done in this war.”

“Obi-Wan and I, we had a bit of an adventure, last month.”

“From what I heard, you have a lot of them.”

“Yes but….it was…it was the first time I was around civilians. Normal people, I mean.”

“Not Jedi and not clones, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Putting apart the fact that you are normal people, and that we are too, that it is a slippery slope to consider us different, because then the rights…”

“I know you’re fighting for us in the Senate. I know. That isn’t the question…I just mean. They were civilians. Even more civilian than usual. I have only met natural borns who are Jedi and Senators and politicians or some sort of official. This was different. And I realized how little we know about the world outside the GAR. And how little we know about societies, and species who aren’t us. They raised us for war only…” Cody was almost trembling with it. Eeth Koth put a comforting hand on his wrist and Cody continued:

“Obi-Wan, I don’t want Obi-Wan to become my teacher. It’s not his role. But if we want to have a chance outside the war, us, the vode, we need to learn about the outside world. I wanted to ask you if there was something…a way…”

Eeth Koth had totally abandoned his meal and Cody could feel the weight of his gaze, the same gaze as Obi-Wan, transcending their species.

“Let me call a few people,” the Jedi said.

**********

Years later, Cody thinks a lot about that moment. Eeth Koth joined the Force during the war and Cody has to remember this moment for the two of them, this simple moment around a table, this moment which became one of the tipping point of his life. Not the too numerous almost-death, not the many battles, not even his first kiss with his dear Obi-Wan. This moment, in Cody’s mind, is the one which changed his fate. 

Eeth Koth died not even two months after that, one among a lot of Jedi who gave their life, alongside the vode, for a chance for the galaxy and its people. Not that people are particularly thankful about it: the discovery of the Sith engineering the two sides of the conflict rocked the easy confidence of the Republic in the solidity of its system.

Democracy is never forever, if people don’t work for it.

No, democracy is only saved for now, and never will it be saved forever and ever. But that shock to the system is treated by the most intelligent of the bunch like a chance to seize. All across the reunited Republic people are working hard, entering politics, creating organizations to teach the population, to hold those in power accountable…. 

It’s a sad thing so many vode, jedi and civilians had to die and suffer for that. It’s even sadder to think it didn’t almost happen. The Republic almost burned, the Sith almost won, the beloved former Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi almost helped murder Mace Windu, Master of the Order...Mace Windu isn’t exactly the type to hold a grunge, but Obi-Wan still needed months after that to stay in his presence, the guilt that should have eaten Anakin transfered. 

Honestly, if Obi-Wan forgave Anakin much too quickly, and Windu too, the vod needed a much longer time. Skywalker had almost helped the man who had engineered them as slave soldiers, the man who would have wiped out their free will, the poor part of it they still had. The vod had needed a long time to forgive, and would never forget, but Cody still has the desagreable impression Rex’s anger is a most important consequence in Skywalker’s mind that the almost death of the democratic system and the almost rise of a dictatorship. 

Sometimes, late in the night, Obi-Wan stays awake, something lost in his eyes than mediation never totally makes disappear, and Cody is sure that day figures in a good part in his dark thoughts. 

Obi-Wan, and Cody too, think about what could have been. If Cody hadn’t been there that day, in the Temple, who would have been in charge of keeping an eye on Skywalker in the Council Room? No one, that who. Because Skywalker was a Council member, if a very fresh one, and there wasn’t on hand a Jedi Master with enough years to take a look at a Council Member and decide he needed baby-sitting. All those Masters were deployed, or in beds in the halls of healing. But Cody, Cody was there, and since he and his General had become an item, he had taken sometimes to act, despite what his logical brain told him, not like a soldier Anakin could order around, but like an exasperated step-father. Exasperated and concerned, as the war advanced and Anakin seemed less and less attached to his morals. 

 Who would have followed him to the Senate when Skywalker had refused to wait anymore, and tackled him at the last minute? Who would have stopped Anakin Skywalker from doing something as tremendously stupid as to save a Sith pitted against Mace Windu?

And all of that had been possible because Jocasta Nu had taken the first excuse she could to keep Cody on Coruscant that month. A well-known linguist was visiting for a series of talks, and she thought he could be a good professor for Cody, and more importantly that well-know linguist had enough political power to obtain permission for a clone following his courses.

And the Republic had lived, because Cody loved linguistics, or more because he had loved the little he understood of it at the time.

But Cody refuses to let the horrors of those years of war, and his terrible first years on Kamino, define him. He prefers to think, again and again, to that moment with Eeth Koth.

Cody didn’t know exactly what he wanted. His accelerated childhood, raised for war and war only, hadn’t given him the words for it. He just knew that for his brothers and he to have a chance after the war, they needed more. Or even more terrible horrors would certainly befall them. Soldiers without wars aren’t useful anymore, and tools with no use are only fated to be dismantled for parts.

Following Eeth Koth’s call, Jocasta Nu and her assistants had descended on the GAR with determination, great efficiency and anger that they hadn’t thought about that themselves. By dint of foraging the Jedi Archives, and every friendly archives of the galaxy, for legal precedent to help the Vode, they had forgotten all answers weren’t found between the terabytes of a datapad.

Master Nu is seated right next to Obi-Wan in the public and trying very hard to pretend her eyes aren’t misty, as Cody receives his diploma, earning himself the title of Doctor in linguistics, for his work with the forgotten Kel Dor city, right next to the first Kel Dor of said city to have made the jump to Coruscant.

Cody isn’t the first clone to finish his thesis. Not surprising:  he left the GAR years later than some of them, refusing to leave before his lover, who had been pressed into service as long as the Senate could justify it, and even longer. With Anakin leaving the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan was certainly the most famous member of it for the public, and it was as if the Senate tried to make him pay the Jedi’s refusal to abandon the vode. But Cody was the first clone Jocasta Nu talked with, when she arrived to try to help the vode not in pleading that they shouldn’t be slave soldiers, but in demonstrating they were so much more.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to leave the GAR officially, that honour went to Rex who followed Ashoka to Orto Plutonia, the first clone to be officially accepted as a member of the Jedi Corps. For what Cody understands, his life consists of almost losing his toes ten times a month, hunting with the Taz and flirting desperately with every passing skirts, as Ahsoka flirts desperately with her own Senator and supervises Republic-Taz contacts. Obi-Wan and Cody went once during permission, and Cody swore to himself that the next time Rex and Ahsoka wanted to see them, it could be on a tropical atoll.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to find a job outside of the Jedi orbit. That honour went to Fives and Tup, who left together and chose the most pacifist world they could. “We were almost separated once, never again. I’m not touching a weapon again in my life” Fives had said to Cody that day, watching Tup, busy hugging Rex, with something ferociously possessive in his eyes. Now, they have a nursery of succulent plants on a small island, in the south hemisphere of Alderaan, and Cody still isn’t sure if they are the best friends in the world, or one of those pairs who took brothers in a quite different sense, and frankly, he doesn’t care. There is a small potted thing they sent as a gift on Cody’s desk, with red undertones and white flowers once a year, but the former Commander has a black thumb, and only Obi-Wan’s careful nursing in the Force saved the poor thing already thrice.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to enter academia, that honour went to Waxer, who now teaches mathematics on Mandalore and is busy reintroducing Fett’s genes into the population with a long string of ex-partners, who still like him very much and with who he raises an army of children, at least three of them bearing a name honouring Waxer.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to marry, that honour went to Jesse and Cody isn’t touching that choice of spouse with a ten-foot pool.

Cody wasn’t the first in a lot of things. But it’s ok. He doesn’t have to lead his brothers anymore. He doesn’t have to bear responsibilities for death and help who didn’t come, and for the horrors that were their life.

The vode are free and Cody can only be a brother like any other.

He can be only Obi-Wan’s husband, even if Obi-Wan jokes that now, it’s more him that will be only the husband of Doctor Cody Kenobi, his arm candy in gatherings.

[taexual]

A for Affection / Johnny x Reader

Alcohol makes you fall under a love spell and Johnny’s younger members become the latest victims of your affection, leaving your boyfriend unsure if he should be jealous or concerned for their lives.

pairing: Johnny x Reader | feat. my sons, mark & jisung

warnings: drunk!MC, slight crack, some lowkey mature topics, and, most importantly, soft!Johnny 🥺

words: 3.9k

REQUEST: Can I request a scenario where Johnny picks his drunk girlfriend up and brings her back to the dorms, and Johnny has to try to save the dreamies from her squeezing their cheeks, hugging them tightly, and telling them how cute they are?

This ended up being heavily inspired by jeonghan’s “디노 누구 애기?”

It was only supposed to be a few cocktails with the girls on Friday night after a long week at work – or that’s what you and your co-workers had told yourselves – but, within several hours of the night-out at the bar downstairs from your office, the four of you were already giggling at everything, your most loyal friend – the bartender – appearing especially funny.

“I should probably call someone to pick you up,” he told you when he walked over to your group to ask if you needed anything only to have you all burst into a fit of excited giggles. “You don’t look like you can be trusted with a taxi driver.”

“No, no, listen,” one of your closest friends said, clearing her throat to make herself sound more official. “What you should do is tell us about the time you thought you were serving a-a—”

“You guys come here almost every Friday night,” the bartender groaned – interrupting your friend who was already wheezing – but he didn’t seem to be particularly annoyed, “and you bring that story up every time. I swear, I’m never telling you anything about myself again.”

“No!” you protested. “Please! Tell us exactly how you can mistake an intern at our company for the prime-minister of the whole nation.”

Your friends completely lost it at that point, nearly suffocating as violent waves of laughter overtook them. Even though the bartender had shared the story with you months ago when you first started coming here, and you’d already laughed about it just about a hundred times before, it never ceased to amuse the four of you when you were drunk.

“That’s it,” the bartender declared, grabbing the phone in your hand and pulling up Johnny’s phone number. You’d been in this situation a few times before so he knew who to call. “I’m calling your boyfriend.”

“No, don’t bother him,” you stopped laughing – so you could wipe a stray tear of joy from your cheek – and then exhaled dreamily, “he works so hard, just let him rest. I’ll wait for him here.”

“Well, he’s not coming if he doesn’t know where you are.”

“No, no, he’ll come,” you replied, placing your elbows on the bar top and then resting your head on your palms. “He’s going to find me sooner or later.”

The bartender stopped before pressing the call button and gave you a long look.

“You know, I only serve you drinks and nothing else here,” he said, always beyond impressed by the effect alcohol had on you, “but you would think I’d slipped some drugs in there, too.”

Your friend snorted. “Please. We work so hard, we deserve this.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” he clarified, “but maybe waiting for your Prince Charming to come get you is a sign that you’ve had enough for tonight.”

“No!” you tried to protest again but the whine that passed your lips was so half-hearted that the bartender didn’t even bother to move away from your extended hand – he assumed you were reaching for the phone in his hand, but you ended up grabbing his bow-tie instead – because he could tell you weren’t capable of doing much anymore. That’s why he thought it was time for you to go home.

“Johnny,” the bartender said into the phone when your boyfriend picked up.

You perked up at the sound of his name and released the poor bartender from your grip – he had underestimated your strength, after all, as you nearly choked him by pulling on his bow-tie – before sitting up straight.

“Is it Johnny?” you asked just to make sure. “Can you tell him I love him?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m from the bar downstairs,” the bartender spoke into the phone, ignoring you. “I’ve got your girl here, she’s—uh, well, she thinks she’s Cinderella.”

Even though it was nearing 2 AM, Johnny hadn’t been sleeping when he got the call from the bartender, so he recognized his voice right away. Granted, it’s only been a few times when you’d gotten so drunk you needed someone to come pick you up, but Johnny had learned that he was surprisingly adept at remembering people’s voices – especially when it came to people, responsible for keeping you safe until he reached you.

“Thanks for calling me,” Johnny told the bartender when he showed up to get you twenty minutes later. You seemed surprised to see him even though you were supposed to know he was coming since you were there to hear the phone call. “Let’s get you all home now, yeah?”

Johnny didn’t have to take all of your friends home – the bartender was kind enough to offer to call their partners, too – but he didn’t think it was right to leave them here when he was perfectly capable of taking care of all four of you. Or so he thought.

To be fair, you weren’t a problematic bunch, and the biggest hassle turned out to be getting all of you into his car. You were like a gaggle of kindergartners, amused by the most ordinary things – “look at how bright that girl’s lip gloss is! I’m going to ask her where she bought it!” – and Johnny ended up having to challenge his inner babysitter as he chased after the four of you until you finally arrived at the parking lot.

The ride to your friends’ houses would have been funny, honestly – how could it not be when your group followed every passing vehicle through the window of Johnny’s car like a group of excited retrievers – but Johnny was worried about you.

You didn’t have a great relationship with hangovers so, in order to make sure you weren’t out cold for the rest of the weekend, he knew he had to get you to down a bottle of water before going to bed, but you looked like you were already about to fall asleep in the passenger seat.

“So,” Johnny said loudly, successfully scaring you into waking up. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”

“A few,” you told him, showing him eight fingers on your hands.

“I’m going to assume that’s eight each,” he said more to himself than your girlfriends, but the four of you heard him and burst into a yet another fit of giggles. It was truly confounding how coordinated your laughter seemed to be – what one of you found amusing, the other three always did, too.

“It’s so nice of you to come,” you said then, looking at Johnny with such unrestrained affection in your eyes that he nearly forgot he was supposed to be watching the road. “I knew you’d find me.”

He smiled, playing along. “I always do.”

You grinned in content, trying to get more comfortable in your seat but the seating belt was restraining you.

Johnny already knew the signs of you looking for a position to sleep in, so, clearing his throat, he continued to look for ways to keep you awake for the rest of the ride.

“So,” he said again, not yet knowing what he was getting himself into, “tell me something funny that you did tonight.”

And, thus, your friends proceeded to replay their days in excruciating detail – the fact that they could remember this much while so drunk was a miracle in itself – while you snickered in support. Johnny, meanwhile, was far more focused on making sure you weren’t dozing off, and the only times he smiled was when he heard you laugh at something your friends had said, however completely unfunny it would have seemed to sober-you.

When, half an hour later, your friends finally wrapped up the tales about what they did today, Johnny had finally finished circling the neighborhood to drop them off safely at their houses. And, much to his surprise, you appeared to be far more awake than you’d been when he first got you into the car.

“I’m taking you back to my place, okay?” he asked but he wasn’t actually going to take no for an answer. “I don’t want you waking up alone tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is far away,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, not realizing that it was, technically, tomorrow already. “I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”

“Good,” Johnny said. “We need you to sober up a little before you go to bed anyway.”

“I’m really not that drunk,” you said in a voice so serious that he would have honestly believed you if you didn’t screech the next second, “oh my God, look at that billboard with a dog wearing a sweater!”

He didn’t even realize there was a billboard at all – and then he was confused as to how you even noticed it in the dark – but then he found himself instinctively following your gaze to look out the window.

“Alright, that’s a cute dog,” he concurred.

“We should get a dog,” you announced then. “Two, maybe.”

Johnny loved the excitement in your voice.

“Yeah?” he encouraged. “You think we could take care of two dogs?”

“We could take care of a lot more than two,” you declared, the alcohol making you feel almost invincible, “maybe even three!”

Johnny was laughing now. “No, three dogs would definitely be too big of a challenge for us. Besides, I’ve already got you to take care of.”

You sighed, your expression grateful yet somehow sulky. “You’re so good to me.”

Drunk or not, you always managed to say just the thing to make his chest swell with love so consuming, he almost had to pull over to the side of the road to get himself back together again.

“I’m just taking you home,” he said, ever so humble.

“Take me home, Johnny,” you said, closing your eyes. The late-night drive through the city with your boyfriend was too blissful, too overwhelming. You were tired. “And then tomorrow we can get three dogs. Maybe four.”

He laughed again – and you smiled at the sound – but then stopped himself when he noticed your closed eyes.

“Come now, don’t fall asleep on me, love,” he said quickly. Slowly, you peered at him through your eyelashes. Johnny swallowed. “But also, uh, don’t look at me like that or we’ll crash into the nearest pole.”

You closed your eyes again, giggling. “Well, what do you want me to do then?”

“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me how much you’ve missed me.”

“I saw you yesterday,” you said, still smiling.

“But yesterday was so long ago,” he whined, mimicking your voice with impressive accuracy, but you were too drunk to catch his good-natured teasing.

“That’s true,” you said, your eyelids so very heavy, “I always miss you. Hey!” you jumped up suddenly and Johnny flinched in surprise. “Is Jisung home?”

He gave you a confused look, unsure how you went from missing him to thinking about Jisung in the span of two seconds. “Uh, considering that it’s two in the morning, I sure hope he is.”

“Good,” you said with a satisfied smile. “I must see him.”

He knew how much Jisung – and the other youngest members of his group – reminded you of your own younger relatives and how much sisterly love you had for them, but he still couldn’t help the jealousy in his voice as he cocked an eyebrow. “You must?”

“Yes. I have to give him a hug while he is still a baby,” you said matter-of-factly. “They grow up too soon.”

“A bab—yeah, no,” Johnny shook his head, reaching to place one of his hands on your knee as he held the wheel of the car with his other one, “I may have had my doubts about this but it’s clear now – you’re completely wasted.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed stubbornly.

“In any case, it should be me you’re thinking of giving hugs to,” he said.

“I want to give you a lot more than a hug,” you said, “but you told me not to look at you or we’ll crash into a—”

God, was it suddenly hot in the car as Johnny interrupted you with a loud, “okay! On second thought, let’s not elaborate on what we’d like to do to each other, okay? You’re drunk and I’m trying to get you home safe.”

“So, let me give him a hug, then,” you whined. “I haven’t seen Jisung in ages, he could be even taller now. I must hug him before he gets taller. And then I must tell him to stop growing.”

One more “must” and Johnny knew he was going to start laughing but he didn’t want you to feel like he was mocking you, even if you probably wouldn’t have even realized it. Honestly, your affection towards his youngest members was cute – as long as you didn’t neglect your own boyfriend, of course – and Johnny knew they appreciated your love, too.

“Okay, you can give the baby a hug,” he gave in. “Unless the baby in question is asleep. What will we do then?”

“Then I’ll just have to hug you,” you decided and Johnny was on the verge of starting another argument about the apparent disappointment in your voice but he knew better as you moved your hand down your knee until it met his, and locked your fingers together.

Surprisingly, you made it Johnny’s dorm without falling asleep in the car. He had a feeling that the accomplishment of keeping you awake throughout the entire drive had to be given to that dog billboard you’d seen – you kept bringing it up throughout the ride.

After having helped you out of the car, Johnny guided you up the porch steps. Because there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to walk next to each other, he trailed a few steps behind you, ready to catch you if you lost your balance.

“Johnny,” you said suddenly as you stopped outside of the front door in the dark entryway of his house – the light bulb had broken last week but no one got around to change it yet – and then panicked when you didn’t feel your boyfriend anywhere near you, “Johnny? Johnny!”

“Yes, yes, I’m here, love,” he followed after you, his hands finding their way around your waist to help you support your weight.

“I love you,” you felt the need to say to him right then and there. “A lot, okay?”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“And I’m going to tell you the funniest story.”

“Is this the prime-minister story again?” Johnny asked as he unlocked the door with his free hand and helped you inside. “You’ve already told me twice in the car.”

“No, no, but listen,” you snickered, covering your mouth with your hand to make your laughter quieter now that you were inside of his dorm. “It was really an intern at our—”

“At your company. Yes, I know, love,” he said, still beyond amused by how easy it was to make you laugh when you were drunk. “I’m sure you’ll find this story about as funny as I do when you’re sober.”

“Hmm? But you’re not laughing,” you said as you tried to turn to look at him even though the dark hallway made his features indiscernible.

“Exactly,” he said softly.

Pouting, you turned away from him as the two of you moved towards the kitchen. “You’re no fun—Jisung! Hi! It’s me!”

Johnny thought you were seeing things for a moment but then he followed your gaze to a startled figure in the kitchen in front of you.

Jisung was standing there like a deer caught in the headlights. He couldn’t see you in the darkness of the hallway but when Johnny finally helped you enter the dimly lit living room, the youngest boy finally recognized you.

“Oh, hey,” he gave you a small wave. “Good to see you. How are you?”

“I’m perfect!” you replied, inexplicably excited to see him. Somehow in this excitement, you broke out of Johnny’s grip and reached for a very confused Jisung. “But why aren’t you in bed? You should be sleeping. Did we wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“N-no. I just got up for a glass of—”

“Ugh,” you sighed as you sat down on the armrest of the nearby sofa. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m—” taken aback by your words, Jisung looked over your shoulder at Johnny, who was chuckling and refusing to explain your weird state. “Thank you?”

“Come here,” you said – almost demanded, really – with extended hands. Jisung was still frozen as the older member gave him a shrug behind you. “Come on!”

“Uh—okay, sure,” Jisung gave in, putting the glass down before he walked closer to you until you pulled him into a hug, which wasn’t that unusual since you were always affectionate towards him and the rest of the youngest members alike, but you were clearly drunk now and he wasn’t sure how to act.

“Are you doing okay?” you asked Jisung as he hugged you back – awkwardly at first, but he eased into it eventually – never forgetting to make sure he wasn’t being mistreated, “are the older members nice to you? You can tell me if they’re not, I’ll kick their asses.”

“No, they’re okay,” Jisung chuckled against your shoulder. You always asked him this. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, hugging him tighter. “I have to look after you. So, tell me if something is wrong, okay?”

Despite your drunken state, Jisung was still touched by the gesture – although, objectively, he knew he could have gotten offended that you still saw him as a baby – and, when you finally released him from your hug, he gave you a grateful smile.

“We’re lucky to have you,” he told you with a glance over at Johnny – who seemed to be going through several different emotions at the same time as his eyebrows furrowed but his lips tried to stretch into a soft smile – and then took a careful step backwards so you wouldn’t try to suffocate him with your tight grip again. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes!” you nodded, excited. “I’m thinking of cooking breakfast. What would you like?”

Both Johnny and Jisung raised their eyebrows at this.

“Uh, cooking?” your boyfriend asked.

“Yes,” you told them, completely determined. “I have to make myself useful and take care of—oh my God, Mark, come here!”

Neither of you had seen the other boy come out of his bedroom – he was confused by the loud noises in the house – but your eagle eyes captured Mark’s sleepy features as soon as he walked into the light.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he said once he understood what the commotion was about, “I didn’t realize we had guests.”

“Yeah, she’s drunk and I didn’t want her to—” Johnny started to say but before he could finish his sentence, you were already leaping up from the sofa and squeezing Mark’s cheeks. “Yeah, she… that’s how she says hello when she’s drunk, apparently.”

“That’s not how she said hello to me,” Jisung objected, not particularly enjoying the way you tended to pinch his cheeks but also feeling rather neglected now that your attention was focused on Mark. Jisung had prided himself in being your designated “cute boy”.

“How did she say hello to you?” Mark asked – his hello sounding like a very baby-like hewwo as you pinched his cheeks, expressing your disappointment about how much weight he’s lost before cooing about how adorable he was in spite of that.

“Isn’t he?” you turned to glance at Johnny and then squeezed Mark’s cheeks harder. “He’s the cutest baby on earth.”

Mark wasn’t sure if he wanted to complain and, because he stayed quiet and endured your loving abuse, Johnny wasn’t sure if he should have interjected to save the younger boy, so he just watched the scene play out in silence.

You only released Mark’s face to make a very threatening promise to feed him so he’d stop starving himself.

“I promise I’m not starving myself,” he said, always forgetting how old he was when you were around. He still tried to get you to see him as an adult but he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it when you looked after him.

“That’s not what it looks like. You look like you haven’t had any food in months,” you countered and then turned to look at Jisung. “You too. That’s it! I’m going to feed you from now on.”

The two boys looked at each other for a moment and Jisung shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Mark was just starting to look for ways to say that he’d have loved that too – he didn’t want to seem too eager – but Johnny saw the light come on in Donghyuck’s room and, in order to save another member from your endless affection, he cut in by grabbing your hand.

“I wouldn’t mind having you around every day, either,” he told you. “But let’s get you some water and then go to bed, okay?”

“Oh, but I haven’t said hi to—”

“You can say hi to the rest of the members tomorrow,” Johnny promised, knowing how important it was for you to let the younger boys know how absolutely adorable they were. “They’ll be delighted to see you.”

You sighed, pursing your lips – and looking as much of a baby as Jisung did in your eyes – but then nodding in defeat, after all.

“Oh, alright,” you said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Go to bed now! Sleep well, okay?”

Both Mark and Jisung nodded obediently – the age gap between you and them was not that big and yet, with the way you were looking after them, one would have thought you were their very youthful aunt – and waved at you as Johnny guided you to his room.

You nearly fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft pillows on Johnny’s bed and your boyfriend, who’d left you for just a second to walk back to the kitchen for a glass of water for you, was forced to gently shake you awake.

“You know,” he told you after you finally agreed to take a sip of the water he’d brought, “you call the other members babies, but the way you have me looking after you right now? That’s some baby behavior right there.”

You pushed the glass away from your lips. “I’m not a baby.”

He grinned, looking at you with eyes full of pleasant warmth. “You kind of are.”

You allowed him to take the glass from your hands once you finally finished the drink and then decided not to argue anymore, laying back down on the bed instead. Johnny watched you finally settle into a comfortable position – pulling your knees to your chest until you were cuddled into a ball – and he couldn’t seem to move from the position he was in.

Then, suddenly, he heard you whisper in a voice, laced heavily with sleep, “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

Breathless, Johnny just nodded – even though he knew you couldn’t see him – and then smiled to himself as he changed his mind. You weren’t just a baby. You were his baby.

Minutes after making sure you were asleep, Johnny tip-toed out of the room to get fresh towels and a pack of aspirin for you. He had no doubt you’d need it in the morning.

“Johnny,” Mark – who would have normally refused to conform to the “cutest baby on earth” title that you’d drunkenly given him – said when he caught Johnny walking out of his room. “We love your girlfriend and you know we love you, but I swear to God—”

Johnny almost cringed, fearing like he was about to get scolded. “I know, I know. She’s had a long week and she gets even cuddlier than she normally is when she’s drunk. I’ll—”

“—if you don’t marry her eventually, one of us just might.”

“If I don’t—” Johnny’s eyes widened. That was not the ending he thought Mark was approaching with his sentence. “Wait, what?”

Mark gave him a warning look and then returned to his room, leaving an astonished Johnny in the hallway. He watched the door of the younger member’s room close before looking back towards his own room where he knew you were sleeping.

Then, exhaling slowly, Johnny embraced the fact that – no matter how many sleepy confessions of love you’d exchange with him – in the end, he was always going to have to share your love with his youngest members, too. And, now that he thought of it, he really didn’t mind that as long as it meant having you with him for the rest of his life.

masterlist / ask (requests are closed)

[deancas-fanfiction]

A Daydream Away

Chapter 2/?

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

available on ao3 Read Ch. 1 here

Dean began to slowly stir from sleep. For the first time in years, he awoke feeling well-rested. No pounding headache from the aftershock of a hangover, no repressed memories rattling in his head from a recurring nightmare, and there was no dry feeling in his eyes from sleeping only a few hours. Instead, he felt warm and relaxed as he began to regain consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep as he took in his surroundings. Morning sun hazily streamed in through the gaps in the curtains and it was perfectly still and quiet. Dean sighed in content and went to roll over to fall back asleep. Except a weight on his chest prevented him from moving.

Dean tensed, realizing Cas was lying across him. His head was resting in the crook of his neck and his arm was flung over his chest in an almost possessive like manner. His right leg was intertwined with Dean's, sufficiently entangling the two so Dean couldn't easily tear himself away. Cas' breath softly fanned against his neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. As if all of that wasn't bad enough, Dean quickly remembered they were both nearly naked, wearing nothing but their boxer briefs. This meant their bare skin was pressed together and that there was only a very thin material of fabric protecting Dean from a very embarrassing situation. He closed his eyes at that thought and focused on his breathing to calm himself down.

It was at that moment that Cas began to stir. Dean silently cursed whatever entity was at fault for this awkward situation he was about to be in. Cas flexed his fingers and he tightened his grip on Dean rather than pulling away in alarm, as he had expected.

"Uh Cas?"

"Hmmph."

"Buddy, I gotta go to the bathroom. Would you let up?" Dean tried peeling Cas' arm off him with that request but was unsuccessful.

"No."

Okay, so Cas was a totally unabashed cuddler. Dean added it to the mental list of social norms that Cas hasn't exactly picked up on yet. He internally groaned as Cas remained plastered to him. As Cas' breathing once again evened out and he fell back asleep, Dean's mind began to race.

He's always been the kind of guy that either completely ignored or repressed the hell out of complicated manners in his life. First, it was his sexuality. It was years of him ignoring his attraction to men and assuring himself it was completely normal for a guy to have a crush on other guys until he finally admitted to himself that yeah, okay maybe he's not all that straight. While it was freeing to finally admit it, he was bitter for denying himself that ability to explore that aspect of his life for so long. Then there were another few years of admitting his sexuality but refusing to actually admit it out loud to anyone. When he finally told Sam just a few years ago and was met with a "yeah, I know Dean," he realized that he did it again. He deprived himself of the happiness of being his true self. He delayed his own happiness due to his own insecurities and hang-ups.

Since they literally defeated God, Dean promised himself that he was done with delaying his own happiness. It was kind of a (for lack of a better term) come-to-Jesus type of moment. He literally died multiple times in the last fifteen years alone and it wasn't until that moment that he truly realized life is short and that he should make the best of it. Of course, it's now a lot easier to do that when there's no world-ending apocalypse or imminent battle with Heaven looming overhead.

While this new outlook on life was pretty great, it has certainly complicated things. Another thing Dean repressed the hell out of was his relationship with Cas. While Cas refers to it as a 'profound bond,' or whatever, Dean has a harder time labeling it. It's obvious they have a different relationship than Cas and Sam do, but it's just so damn confusing when he allows himself to think about it.

He just wishes that Cas was a little more transparent regarding what was going on inside his mind. With time, Dean has improved at reading his minimal facial expressions. The slight upward tick of his lips showed his amusement. His signature head tilt™ meant confusion or curiosity. The furrow of his brows indicated frustration and if accompanied with the head tilt it meant he was about to smite someone. The last time Dean saw that look, it was directed at him and Sam when they may have gotten Jack just a little bit drunk. But really, they couldn't be blamed. It was the night before they took on Chuck, and they were all under the impression it was their last night on Earth. Anyone else would have done the same thing. Well, except Eileen who signed "told you he'd be mad," with a smug look on her face. But that's not the point.

Regardless, Dean had gotten quite good at reading Cas. However, there was still a lot he didn't know. Sometimes Cas would look at him with an expression that was so foreign to Dean that he had no idea how to catalogue it. And it confused the hell out of him. Sometimes the expression would be so soft that Dean would entertain the idea that maybe Cas felt the same way as Dean does. But that look would be gone as quickly as it appeared, and Dean would convince himself he was projecting.

Dean sighed as his thoughts continued to spiral, unable to stop them. Instead, a loud pounding at the front door startled him, bringing him back to the present. Cas jolted awake as the pounding continued. He had a light flush on his cheeks as he removed himself from Dean.

His hair was sticking out in every direction, reminding Dean of that night in the barn when they officially met for the first time. He  wondered what sex hair would look like on Cas, if that's just what his regular hair looks like in the morning. Dean shook his head, effectively stopping that train of thought before it could spiral out of control. The pounding continued, more incessantly this time.

"Who the hell..." Dean grumbled, forcing himself out of bed. He threw on his discarded shirt from the floor and made his way through the living room to the front door. He swung the door open and was met with Sam's annoyed expression. "What are you --"

"Jesus, Dean. Do you plan on actually working the case or are you just going to sleep all day?" Sam brushed past Dean and brushed snow off his jacket.

"What are you talking about? What time is it even?"

"Nearly nine, Dean." He said, pulling his best bitch face. "They stop serving breakfast at 10. I thought you were going to interview guests this morning."

"Well, yeah. We were just getting ready to leave, so chill." Sam looked unimpressed and walked past Dean to the bedroom. Cas was still sitting in bed, blinking away sleep with the blankets pulled around him, effectively proving Dean wrong. "Oh, you were just getting ready to leave? Then why does Cas look like he just woke up?"

"I -- don't you have an interview to prepare for?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I already had it. I start later today."

"That soon?" Cas asked, his voice gravelly and rough from sleep and oh. That sound went straight to Dean's groin.

"Yeah. They're really short staffed. From what I gathered, quite a few employees quit after the last couple went missing a few days ago. It seems like they were pretty freaked out. So now they're really short staffed and pretty desperate."

"Oh, so that's why they hired you," Dean jokes. "They're desperate."

Sam just looked unimpressed. "For the love of God, would you two just get ready and go to breakfast? We have no leads and I need you to talk to the guests. When I'm at the desk this afternoon, I'll sign you up for some activities so you can talk to more guests."

Dean opened his mouth to argue that hey, he's perfectly capable of signing up for his own activities but Sam shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks. "I'll make sure you're signed up for the bourbon tasting, if that's what you're worried about."

"I knew I could count on you, Sammy," Dean grinned. With that, Sam shook his head and headed out of the cabin.

It took equal parts pleading and the promise of coffee to coax Cas out of the warmth of the bed and out into the cold so they could make it to breakfast in time. The morning brought with it a light snowfall, so Dean had to quickly brush the Impala off before driving the short distance to the main lodge where breakfast was served.

Dean and Cas waved to Brenda as they passed the front desk and waited in line to check in at the host stand. Breakfast was served in the form of a buffet with a wide variety of items offered. Dean gave the hostess their cabin number and headed straight to the eggs and bacon. He loaded up his plate while Cas grabbed waffles and coated them with syrup and whipped cream.

"You should be grateful you married me instead of Sam," Dean declared, taking a large bite of bacon as he scanned the room for an open table. "He would have lectured you for all of the sugar you're loading up on."

Cas tilted his head, seemingly thinking that over. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I don't think Sam and I would be very compatible on a lot of fronts."

Dean, meanwhile, flushed at the possible implication that he and Cas are compatible. Cas didn't seem to notice and directed his attention towards a table where a young couple were sitting, enjoying their breakfast. "Should we sit with them? Maybe they could tell us something about the couple that went missing."

"Yeah, okay. It will also get Sam off our back for a few hours." Dean followed Cas as he approached the table.

"Mind if we join you?" Cas asked, good natured. "My husband, here, overslept this morning and it seems we arrived for breakfast at the busiest time."

Dean glared at Cas for throwing him under the bus when it was actually the other way around, but there was no heat to it. In reality, his stomach did that weird swooping thing when Cas referred to him as "his husband."

"Of course!" The young woman smiled at them over her glass of orange juice. "I'm Amy, and this is my fiancé Jake."

"Nice to meet you," Dean turned on his most charming smile. "I'm Dean, this is Cas. We just arrived last night and had no idea breakfast would be so busy."

Amy laughed and shook her head. "We experienced the same thing. We found that arriving at 8:30 is the sweet spot. It's right between the early and late risers."

"Another tip: if you arrive early enough, they have cinnamon rolls. They always run out by 8:00." Jake added.

"We'll definitely remember that. Cas has a sweet tooth, as you can tell by his side of waffles he got with his syrup." Dean joked. Cas just rolled his eyes and happily ate his sugar infused breakfast. "How long have you two been here?"

"Five days," Amy chirped. "We're getting married this summer, so we wanted to have a relaxing vacation just the two of us before things get too crazy with last minute wedding planning."

"We know how that goes. We ended up having a small wedding because the planning got to be too much work for us." Cas paused and chewed thoughtfully. "Wait - so you've been here for a few days. Does that mean you were here when that couple went missing?" Truthfully, Dean was impressed by Cas' nonchalance. While his social skills have significantly improved since becoming human, there were still times that Cas had some social awkwardness. It was endearing as hell but could make working a case a little difficult. But Cas seemed to be holding his own rather well.

Jake and Amy exchanged a look. "Yeah, we actually did a cooking class with Kevin and Raymond. They were so nice and were here on their honeymoon. No one seems to have any idea what happened."

"Did you notice anything weird?"

"No," Jake answered, furrowing his brows. "Like Amy said, they were really nice and gave us a lot of great wedding advice."

"Yeah, they weren't planning on leaving for another few days, so when they were suddenly gone it didn't make sense."

"We thought they had a family emergency and had to leave early or something, but then we heard they were actually missing. It's so sad."

"Did you do any other activities with them?"

Amy smiled wistfully. "Other than the cooking class, we only did the bourbon tasting with them. I have quite the bourbon collection at home, as did Kevin so we talked a lot about that. The tasting was the last we saw of them."

Dean nodded, and steered the conversation towards bourbon and scotch, not wanting to raise any suspicion by asking too many questions.

After finishing their breakfast, Cas grabbed a to-go cup of coffee and they meandered back outside. With the fresh snowfall, the grounds looked serene and absolutely beautiful. A blanket of untouched snow coated the ground, sparkling in the sun.

"Want to explore the grounds a little?" Dean asked. "It may be a good idea to get a good feel of the layout."

"Yeah, I'd like that." Cas smiled in return and pulled his hat over his ears. The wind wasn't biting like it was the night before, but it was still December in Minnesota meaning it was fucking cold. Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and followed the path around the lodge. This led to a large staircase down to the lakeside. Christmas lights were strung along the railing and there was a bonfire roaring near the lakeside, which was tended to by a few guests. Dean and Cas slowly made their way down the staircase, breathing in the crisp fresh air and enjoying the scenery.

Cas quickly finished his coffee and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Then he shoved his hands in his jacket, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a shiver. Dean fondly rolled his eyes at him and held out his hand.

"Give me your hand." He ordered. Cas looked at him questioningly but complied, nonetheless. Dean took his hand and shoved it in his pocket with his own. "Jesus, your hand is freezing."

Now it was Cas' turn to roll his eyes. "I had to finish my coffee," he reasoned.

"We need to buy you gloves."

"I'm fine, Dean."

"No, your hand feels like ice. Sometimes you forget you're human and actually need to worry about things like that."

"That's not true."

"Sure, it is," Dean snorted. "Within your first few days of being human you were dehydrated because you forgot to drink water regularly."

"You forget to drink water regularly, Dean."

Dean paused. "Okay, you have me there. But you also wore your suit and trench coat in 90-degree heat on that case in Arizona. We were in the desert and you were wearing like 4 layers."

Cas lips turned up at the corner. "Okay, you have me there." He echoed. "To be fair, I am getting better. I now dress 'weather appropriate' as Sam puts it."

"Yes, you do. I'm just sure being human takes some getting used to. But in the meantime, you need to let Sam and I help you out." Dean squeezed Cas' hand for emphasis, which was now at a much warmer temperature.

In response Cas smiled his full, blinding smile which made Dean feel warm despite the cold. "Thanks for letting me stay with you both at the bunker."

At that, Dean felt a pang of guilt. He completely mishandled the situation last time Cas was human and that was something he would never forgive himself for. "Cas, I'm sorry for --"

"No, don't apologize. I understand why you did that. You were saving Sam's life. I didn't mean to dredge that up. I just wanted to express my gratitude for allowing me to stay with you."

"You're family, Cas. We stick together." And just like that his blinding smile was back, with a certain softness in his eyes that Dean had trouble interpreting.

They now reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped at the fire to quickly warm themselves. Dean and Cas asked the few guests milling around the fire about Raymond and Kevin, but none of them had any information about the missing couple. Half of them weren't even staying at the resort when the disappearance occurred. After making a few minutes of small talk, they said their good-byes and headed back to the Impala. The cold officially seeped through their winter layers and Dean could feel his feet turning numb.

The walk back to the car was very quick and at last Dean was starting Baby and blasting the heat. He sighed in relief as warmth fanned over his red face.

"We should probably call Sam before he arrives back for work and tell him we haven't had any luck yet."

"Yeah, good thinking," Dean agreed as he pulled out of the parking spot. Cas dug out his phone and dialed Sam's number, putting it on speaker so they could both hear.

"Hey, Cas." Sam answered cheerfully. "What's up?"

Cas dutifully explained their lack of progress on the case and the dead end with the guests. "I know we haven't spoken to more than a handful of them, but I fear it will be the same with all of the guests. What are your thoughts?"

Sam hummed in thought. "I called the local law enforcement this morning while you were at breakfast, posing as a journalist and they said the same thing -- none of the guests had any helpful information. Maybe we need to switch tactics."

"What are you thinking? Cas and I pose as agents?" Dean questioned as he turned onto the gravel road leading to their cabin.

"No, law enforcement already spoke to the resort staff and they didn't get anywhere. I doubt it would be any different with federal agents." He paused as he thought for a moment. "Maybe you two should just really lean heavily into the whole married couple thing and focus on luring whatever it is that took the other couples."

"We're already doing that," Dean responded.

"No, I know. But I mean lean into it. Act so sickeningly in love so you become the obvious target. I'll see if I can get any other information from the staff, but I think that's our best angle at this point. Like I said, I'll sign you up for some couple activities over the next few days and you just need to act like you're madly in love with each other."

"Will you sign us up for the cooking class?" Cas asked. "Jake and Amy mentioned they took that class with Raymond and Kevin before they disappeared."

"Yes, I can do that. Stop by the desk after lunch and I can give you your itinerary. But I gotta go -  I have to be at the resort in less than an hour."

"Are you sure that'll be enough time to style your hair?"

"Fuck off Dean," Sam retorted humorously. "I'll see you guys later."

Cas said goodbye and slid his phone back in his pocket.

Dean chanced a glance over at Cas as they pulled up to their cabin. His brow was furrowed and he was staring out the windshield with a faraway look on his face.

"What's on your mind, buddy?"

Cas' eyes flashed in frustration. "If we're going to make people believe this is real," He said, gesturing between them. "You should probably stop referring to me as 'buddy.' Married couples don't refer to each other as such."

"Right. Sorry." Dean chewed on his lip. Cas was right. If this plan was going to work, they would have to adjust a few aspects of their friendship, this being one of them. "That's a good point. I think we were just fine this morning, but like Sam said, we need to really lean into it. So we'll have to step up our game."

"What do you suggest, we become more physical?"

Dean flushed at the implications. "Uh -- yeah, I suppose. We could hold hands more," He suggested.

Cas nodded. "Or I could put my arm around your shoulder."

"Exactly. Just do what you see other couples doing. Really, we should be fine. Once Sam signs us up for all of the couple’s activities it will be even easier to act the part."

"What about kissing?"

"What about it?" Dean's face was flaming at this point. He shifted in the seat to get a good look at Cas.

"Should we do it? Other couples do it, and it may be odd if we don't." Cas tilted his head, studying Dean's expression. "Unless that makes you uncomfortable?"

"What? N-no, not at all." Quite the opposite, actually. "I mean -- that's fine, Cas. If it feels necessary for the case, then we can, um, kiss." Dean could not believe he was actually having this conversation. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to get his shit together. "Just do what feels natural, alright?"

"Alright." Cas agreed.

"So, we have a few hours until we have to be back at the lodge to meet with Sam. Want to see if there’s anything good on tv?”

A big smile took over Cas' face at the suggestion and he nodded in agreement. They got out of the car and made their way inside the cabin. The fresh snow crunched under each footstep but otherwise it was silent. Once they were back inside the warmth of the cabin, Cas took off towards the bedroom and muttered something about getting a blanket while Dean collapsed onto the couch.

He turned on the television and began searching through the channels, waiting for something to catch his eye. Within seconds he heard Cas’ light footsteps in the hall. He looked up just as he came into sight. Cas had their large comforter in his hands, but Dean was distracted by what he was wearing.

"Are those my sweatpants?"

Cas looked down, almost sheepishly. "Oh. Yes. You always tell me that jeans are not proper attire for movie nights. I assume the rule applies even if it's daytime, so I changed. I didn't bring any loungewear, so I borrowed yours. Is that alright?"

He eyed the pants which hung low on Cas' hips. It left a small sliver of tan skin exposed and Dean could see the sharp line of his hip bones. He inhaled sharply and forced his eyes back to Cas' face. "Yes, Cas. That's alright."

Cas' lips turned up at the corners and he flopped onto the couch next to Dean. He pulled the large blanket over the two of them and sat just close enough that Dean could feel the heat coming off of him, but they weren’t quite touching.

Since becoming human, Cas has taken to borrowing Dean’s clothes. After Dean convinced him to try on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Cas realized just how uncomfortable the suit and tie ensemble was. With that in mind, he began sneaking into Dean’s room and would snag a band shirt and sometimes a flannel, dressing like he’s a Winchester himself.

The first time he saw him in his clothes Dean nearly had an aneurysm. He had grown so accustomed to Cas in his suit and shapeless coat that seeing him in jeans that hugged his ass with the sleeves of his flannel rolled up his forearms was an immediate turn on. Maybe it was also the fact that they were Dean’s clothes on him that caused such a problem. Regardless, Dean abandoned his breakfast to immediately take a cold shower.

And now, seeing him in his own sweatpants that perfectly hug his ass and hang low on his hips was painfully unfair. Dean readjusted himself, ignoring the heat pooling in his gut. Now was not the time for inappropriate boners. He internally groaned and tried to focus on the nature documentary Cas put on but was unsuccessful because at that moment Cas rested his head against Dean’s shoulder and let out a little sigh of content.

This is going to be a long and tortuous week for Dean because it's just pretend.

[mrs-takami-keigo]

Baked Lovin’

Parings Hawks X Quinn (OC) 

Rating: EXPLICT! 18+

Warnings: Recriational drug use, fingering, oral sex

Description: Quinn never thought that Hawks meeting her old college friends would end up with him being as high as a fucking kite off of a few bites of an edible. Quirkless AU

Word count: 4.6K 

Taglist: @katsukikitten​, @honeytama​, @prismaroyal​, @hawks-senseis​, @tui-lah​

Notes: This is my fourth tile off of my BINGO sheet for the @bnhabookclub​ event! The tile prompt for this was High Sex and honestly this was freaking fun to write and use my OC Quinn for more than my SERIES she’s in. 

At first, she was hesitant, her friends were on the wild side when they all got together. It was like they were all twenty or twenty one again, partying before an exam, and never getting a hangover.

“I don’t know Hawks. I’m not sure they are your kind of crowd.” Quinn said to him two weeks before the gathering. They were at home in their shared apartment, her and Hawks just having finished a hard day of work. Their schedules were perfect, Quinn worked as an executive for her uncle’s clothing brand called Todoroki Threads. While Hawks was the model and co-owner for Hotwing's, an alternative clothing brand made by her cousin and him.

When her uncle found out she was dating the ‘enemy’ he was livid but Quinn knew how to handle her uncle. Over time he gave up trying to break them up, seeing how she wasn’t letting go of her beloved boyfriend.

“I want to know the people that were around you during your roaring twenties.” Hawks crept up behind her as she prepared their dinner. His large hands ran down her sides, stopping when he reached her hips.

“Hmmm if you were to meet that Quinn, she would eat you alive little dove.” She pushed her plump ass against his sweatpants clad lower half, feeling his semi-hard cock brush against her.

Hawks let out a low groan as he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, tentatively giving it a lick.

“I’m sure she would, firebird.” His grip on her hips tightened as he ground himself against her. “Why don’t you show me, baby?” He growled against her ear. And just like that dinner was put on hold while she had to show him just what she was capable of.

After continuous begging and just being plain out annoying, Quinn gave in and allowed Hawks to come with her and she was slowly regretting it. Having him in the states let alone in New York City was a mistake. He wanted to go to every tourist attraction, eat at every food cart he could find and on more than one occasion he got lost when he decided to venture off on his own.

“Hey, are you sure you still want to do this?” Quinn asked from the bathroom as she finished putting the last touches of her makeup on. Fluffing up her curly hair, she took a good look in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Well hello there beautiful.” Hawks walked into the large penthouse bathroom, leaning against the sink as he eyed his girlfriend. No matter how many times he saw her dressed up, she looked like a fucking goddess in his eyes.

The way her tight high waisted jeans hugged her thick thighs, showing off every curve perfectly. Her hot pink bustier pushed her full breasts up, the color emphasized how beautiful her golden sun-kissed skin looked. She wore her hot pink wedges that matched her top, her manicured toes peeked out from the tip of the shoe. A simple look of a winged liner and glossed lips only enhanced her natural beauty.

“What? You’ve been staring at me for like five minutes and it's creeping me out.” Quinn walked up to him. She was only about two inches shorter than him, but whenever she wore heels of any kind Quinn would end up being an inch or so taller than him.

“Just thinking about how fucking perfect you are.” Hawks lazily wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in. “How the hell did I get a woman like yourself to fall for a bastard like me?”

Quinn let her hands run up his chest to the back of his neck, where she played with the soft short hairs on the nape of it. “Because I have a thing for arrogant bastards who are gorgeous and have some good dick.”

“You do love it when I dick you down don’t you?” Hawks brought his face closer to the woman in his arms, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. His breath was mingling with hers as he spoke, those golden eyes she fell in love with were filled with desire. “Maybe we have time for a little demonstration.”

“I don’t think so dove, not when I’ve spent so long to get ready.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips, stepping out of his embrace and into the bedroom. “We have to leave now and get a cab. Everyone should be at Chris’ place soon.” Looking back at the bathroom door, Quinn got a full look at her boyfriend.

People would think that Hawks was a fashion-forward kind of man, seeing as how he was a model and had a clothing brand. But in fact, it was the exact opposite, Hawks was a simple dresser. Like tonight he wore a white slim fit v-neck t-shirt, a silver pillar chain hung from his neck. Black jeans with frayed holes on his knees and black vans that had red wings painted on the sides of them. Thick silver rings were on some of his long fingers, and a red braided yarn bracelet that was accompanied by some random black metal bracelets. It may have been simple but god was he sexy.

Hawks walked up behind her as she put on her golden hooped earrings in the mirror of the bedroom. Moving her thick burgundy and black curly hair to one side he kissed her shoulder.

“We’ll just have to have a full-on ride test when we get back.” Hawks locked eyes with her through the reflective object, her hazel ones were just as dark and full of lust as his.

“You better remember that promise baby boy.” Her voice was low, sending shivers down his spine. Hawks opened his mouth slightly on the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting it. That was his way of letting her know she was gonna get fucked tonight.

When the two finally made it to Quinn’s friend Chris’ house everyone was already there. Music was pumping through the large apartment, drinks in everyone's hands, and friends catching up with each other.

Quinn and Hawks were at the bar getting their drinks when she felt her body be lifted from the ground and spun around.

“If it isn’t Q!” Just hearing the voice Quinn knew exactly who it was.

“Mocha! Still as loud as ever!!” She giggled as he kept spinning her around while her confused and amused boyfriend watched.

Gently putting Quinn down Mocha pulled her in for a bear hug. “It’s been too long.”

“It really has, Mocha, it really has.” She heard Hawks cough behind her. “Oh Mocha, this is my boyfriend Keigo, but he goes by Hawks. Hawks this is Mocha, one of the best people to ever grace this earth.”

Hawks shook his hand, glad to meet such a good friend of Quinn’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You did good Q, he fine as hell.” Mocha winked at Hawks, causing the shorter male to laugh.

“Hearing that coming from someone as beautiful as you are a blessing in its own.” Hawks wanted to make a good impression on Quinn’s friends, he knew how much they meant to her.

“Now that’s a man! Come y’all let's go to the balcony, the rest of the dance team is over there.” Mocha grabbed Hawks’ hand, leaving Quinn to grab the drinks as she ran after her friend and her giggling boyfriend.

“Wait so you're telling me, Quinn, like MY Quinn, used to dance?!” Hawks was sitting on the edge of his seat, Quinn had a hand over her face as her friends decided to tell him every little detail about her college life.

“Yeah, and she had a stage name.” One of her female friends said digging Quinn even further down the rabbit hole.

“Wasn’t it a bird of some sort. Oh, wait I got it, wasn’t it Phoenix?!”

“Shoot me now please.” Quinn sunk lower into the chair, trying to just disappear as Hawks looked at her.

“Yup! Everyone called her Phoenix, she even had a Fanclub on campus.” Mocha was enjoying seeing his friend like this. “Broke a lot of hearts too.”

“Oh really?” Hawks raised an eyebrow at Mocha’s statement, glancing over at Quinn. “You were breaking hearts instead of doing your studies huh?”

“Fuck off, I will not be slandered like this.” Quinn got up from her seat, grabbing her drink. “I’ll be inside talking to my real friends.” She heard the group chuckle as she stormed into the living room.

Quinn had been hanging out with some of her other friends when Chris came up to her.

“Well well, if it isn’t Ms. Phoenix.”

“Hello, Chris.” Her voice was monotonous as she took a sip of her second drink that night.

“Still the ice queen I see.”

They both stared at each other before bursting out laughing. “Ice queen, how original.” Quinn pushed him on the shoulder, the tall dark-haired man rubbed the spot she pushed.

“Damn Quinn, what do you do for a living fight crime? Why are you so strong?”

“I hate you.” Chris was her best friend in the entire world. She would kill for that man, and he would do the same for her.

“Would you really hate the man that brought you a present?” Chris reached into the backpack he had, pulling out a neatly wrapped lucky charms cereal bar.

“Is that what I think it is?” A wide grin spread across Quinn’s face as she reached for it.

“It sure is, all two hundred milligrams of it.” If there was a guilty pleasure of Quinn’s it would be weed. Back in her college days, she was what the media and police would call a pothead.

“And you brought it for me?!” She pretended to have tears in her eyes as she took the cereal bar from his hands.

“Anything for my favorite girl.” Chris smiled at his best friend while she ate half of the illegal treat. Wrapping it back up in the plastic, Quinn put it in her small purse, continuing her conversation with Chris.

The night had passed on, Hawks was introduced to more of Quinn’s friends and before she knew it people started to leave. That’s when Quinn noticed she hadn’t seen Hawks for about an hour now.

Walking up to Mocha who was helping Chris clean up she asked, “Have you guys seen Hawks? Last I saw him was when I asked for him to hold my purse while I used the bathroom.”

“I saw him sitting outside.” Mocha nodded to the balcony. Turning over her shoulder she saw Hawks lying on the lounge chair staring at the sky.

Stepping through the sliding glass doors, Quinn squatted down next to her boyfriend. “Come on baby let’s go back to the room.” She was already feeling the edible she ate from before, it was finally kicking into her system.

“Have you ever been able to feel every nerve ending in your body?” Hawks kept staring at the sky, his body still, except for his chest moving up and down.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” Quinn moved his legs over so she could share the chair with him.

“I can feel every nerve in my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.” That’s when he looked at her, his golden eyes were glossed over, with a slight tint of red where the white was.

“Oh fuck!” She grabbed her purse, ripping it open. Digging around her purse she couldn’t find the other half of her edible. “Keigo, baby did you eat the cereal bar in my bag?” Her hands were pressed against the sides of his face, making him focus on her.

“I was hungry, speaking of hunger can we get something you eat? I’m starving.” He had a goofy grin on his face as he spoke to her. Quinn could only hang her head as she realized, she had gotten her boyfriend high for the first time.

“What do you think this sauce is made of? It's amazing!” Hawks shouted through the hallway of the hotel.

“Shhh! What did I tell you about being quiet?” Getting Hawks back to the room deserved to be an Olympic sport. He wanted to talk to every person he came in contact with, kept asking Quinn for kisses, and when she did he would scream “I won! I won!” to the sky. She had finally got him to quiet down when she bought him some Halal from the cart down the block.

“Oh yeah, we have to be like ninja’s.” With his white container full food in his hands, Hawks pressed himself against the wall, tiptoeing as he walked.

The two finally made it to the room, where Hawks plopped on the couch and rubbed his belly.

“That was amazing!” He kicked off his shoes, sending them flying across the room.

“Good, now I’m going to go take a shower, so behave.” She didn’t want to leave him alone to his own devices but she had to. “Keigo promise me you’ll behave.”

“You got it, baby, anything for you.” He sent her a wink before he threw his head over the back of the couch.

Sighing Quinn walked over to the bathroom, not shutting the door all the way just in case. She peeled the tight clothing off of her body unaware a pair of dark golden eyes were watching her every move.

The shower was quick, seeing as Quinn opted to not wash her hair. Walking out of the steaming bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Quinn had expected to see Hawks laid out on the bed or on the small couch passed out. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Panic started to run through her body as she thought the worst.

“Did he walk out for more food?’ Oh god, please just don’t get arrested!”

Quinn was about to go for her purse to grab her phone when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards a hard chest.

“Where are you going firebird?” Hawk’s growled in her ear, his tongue coming out giving the shell of her ear a soft lick. She could feel his rock hard dick pressing against her.

“Hawks what are you doing?”

Hawks didn’t answer her right away, he let his hands travel down her stomach, to where the small slit of the towel was, slipping his fingers inside. He grazed his fingers against her sunkissed golden skin, shivers ran up her spine. Hawks nuzzled his nose into her neck, exhaling gently against it.

“God you feel so good, just let me feel you.” Hawks opened the towel, letting it fall to the floor, pooling around their feet. “It’s like I can feel every single nerve in my fingertips. It’s like electricity shooting through my body.”

Quinn let her head fall back against his shoulder, the effects of the edible were still coursing through her body. She could feel every nerve as well and right now with just his touch she was ready to cum for him.

“Wait until you feel this.” She grabbed his hand, bringing it down to her wet pussy. Hawks' fingers immediately started to play with her slick folds.

“Oh fuck, your so fucking wet for me.” She could feel his lips kiss along her shoulder, his hips involuntarily bucking against her.

She reached up to cup the back of Hawks neck, her delicate fingers played with his hair. Hawks continued his slow torture on her pussy, his fingers would just slide against her, going between grazing her hardened clit and her pulsating entrance.

“Get on the bed for me, on all fours baby.” Quinn was so lost in his touch that she hadn’t heard him speak to her. Getting frustrated Hawks used his other hand to grip her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His lips brushed against hers as he growled.

“On the bed now!” Quinn could only moan in response, with the way he was making her feel right now, words failed her.

Doing as he asked Quinn climbed on the bed, hands and knees pressed against the soft white bedding, back arched and ass up and in full view for Hawks. She could hear the rustling of clothes behind her, glancing back she watched as Hawks pulled his shirt over his head. His arm muscles flexed as he started to undo his belt.

Quinn bit her bottom lip as she watched him, she always knew he was sexy and so goddamn good looking but right now, he looked like some kind of god. His messy blonde hair was sticking up everywhere, those golden eyes that kept looking over at her were still glossed over. She couldn’t help herself, reaching one of her hands under her, she started to play with herself.

“Keigo.” She moaned out his name when she slid two fingers into her wet pussy. Hawks was down to his boxers about to take them off when she called out his name, stopping his movements. His eyes darkened as he watched her slide those fingers in and out, pleasuring herself in front of him.

“AH!” Quinn looked behind her to see Hawks down on his knees, his teeth digging into her ass. Releasing his teeth, Hawks looked her in the eyes as he licked the wounded area.

“I couldn’t resist, your ass just looks good enough to eat.” He peppered kisses along her cheeks. He had each hand full of her ass, eyes closed. He was enjoying feeling her against his lips. That edible made him feel like he was on top of the fucking world, with the love of his life face down and ass up of him, he felt unstoppable.

“You better get to eatin’, baby boy.” Quinn pulled her fingers out of her soaking wet cunt, pressing the side of her face against the bed. Her hands reached around, spreading her cheeks to present herself to him.

Hawks felt his mouth water as he eyed her glistening sex. He’s eaten her out more times than he could count but never like this. Running his hands over her ass, up her back, his pink tongue came out, swiping it across her pussy. He moaned against her, her juices hitting every taste bud on his tongue.

“Fuck!” wrapping his arms around her thighs, Hawks brought his lips back to hers, lapping up all of her juices. He made work of his tongue, between flicking it over her clit and then gently sucking on it.

Quinn’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her mouth open as soft whimpers came out of her. If there was one thing Hawks knew, it was how to use that sinful mouth of his. The way his tongue felt on her, the slurping sounds he made when he sucked on her clit. His grunts and moans against her were nothing but vibrations that made her toes curl and her thighs shake.

“Do that again Keigo.” her words came out as a moan when he stuck his tongue inside of her. Hawks loved to please her, he had a pleasure kink. He wanted to make sure she knew it was him doing this to her, making her scream his name in pure ecstasy. So if Quinn said to do it again, he was going to.

“Yes just like that, don’t fucking stop.” Her arms were stretched out across the bed, gripping at the comforter. She could feel the tightening in her lower abdomen, knowing if he kept that up she wouldn’t last much longer.

Just as she felt it building, Hawks pulled away from her. Lifting up her torso from the bed she looked under her to see Hawks turn himself over, the back of his head rested on the bed, his face directly under her pussy. Using his legs he propped up his lower half, a large hand jerking off his hard cock, his other hand playing with her folds.

“Arch that back for me.” lowering herself back to the bed like before, Quinn felt Hawks slip a finger into her entrance. “So fucking tight.” After a few pumps in and out of the wet entrance, Hawks added another finger, stretching her out.

“Bring me that pussy, baby girl.” Spreading her legs further apart, Quinn lowered her bottom half, her pussy was back on his lips. He went back to what he was doing before, sucking on her now extra sensitive clit while he fingered her.

“Oh my god please don’t stop! I’m so close.” Quinn planted her face against the soft material, biting it. Hawks stopped moving his hand that was around his cock, instead he wrapped it around her waist, holding her against him.

With two fingers inside of her, Hawks curled them up, hitting her bundle of nerves. Quinn was positive it was because of the edible she ate that it made her extra sensitive. She felt that tight bundle in her lower abdomen release itself as she came on Hawks fingers.

“Holy fuck Keigo.” Her body convulsed ever so slightly as he kept licking her clean, making sure to get every drop of her essence.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He bit her inner thigh, making sure to leave a mark in his wake. Sliding out from under her, Hawks walked over to his luggage to grab a condom. Quinn took this moment to try and catch her breath. Moving to the middle of the bed, she laid on her back with her hazel eyes closed, legs slightly spread apart. She was too fucking high for this, between the edible and the way Hawks made her see cloud nine she wasn’t sure if she could keep up.

She felt her body slipping into sleep mode when she felt hands wrapping around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t you dare sleep firebird, I’ve got a raging hard cock just for you.” He was kneeling on the bed, her legs over his hands while his arms locked them in place, her ass slightly off the bed. Her thick thighs were touching but she could see Hawks’ cock resting in between her slick folds, his hips rocking gently, brushing against her sensitive clit.

“The way you have me feeling right now is fucking insane.” He continued to move against her, as he watched her squirm. Soft plump lips were slightly agape as she purred for him. Her beautiful curls were fanned out around her, her baby hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead. Those breasts he loved so much moved with each grind he did against her. Hazel colored eyes staring right at him as he looked over her body.

“Fuck Quinn you look so beautiful right now.” Pulling back Hawks aligned himself with her entrance. Slowly he eased inside of her, watching as she took every inch of him.

Hawks let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, once he was fully inside of her. Her walls were constricting around him. Her small hand reached out to cup his face, her thumb brushing against his swollen lips. Closing his eyes Hawks leaned into Quinn’s touch, kissing her thumb.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” It was a whisper but Quinn heard it and she felt her heart quicken its pace.

“Move Keigo, please I need it, I need you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, slightly pulling back he thrust his hips forward, back into her.  Quinn’s eyes rolled back into her head, as a moan slipped past her lips. Hawks thrust were slow and deep, making sure she felt all of him. But he was slowly losing and uphill battle.

Quinn knew he was sensitive because of the drug and she wanted him to cum just like she had.

“Come here.” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, bringing him down to her. Letting go of her legs, he put them over his shoulders, bending her in half. His nose brushed against her rounded one, breaths mingling with each other, his hips never stopped moving.

“No one has made me ever feel the way you do Keigo. The feeling of your dick inside of me, my walls stretching around you is the best feeling in the world baby.” Their eyes were locked, his hips moving faster. Yes, he had a pleasure kink, but he also had a praise kink.

“That’s right baby fuck me. Make me scream out your name while I cum for you and only you!” The grip she had on his neck tightened and he moved faster and faster. The position had him going so deep inside of her, pushing against her soft bundle of nerves.

She could feel his hips stutter in their movements, he was about to cum. “That’s right Keigo Cum. I want to feel it, I’ll cum with you, just don’t fucking stop.” Moving her face to the side her lips met his in a kiss that was messy and full of tongue.

“Fuck Quinn!” Hawks broke the kiss, closing his eyes and his forehead rested against hers. The sound of skin slapping against each other and their moans filled the room. Hawks felt like he was flying through the sky, the stars were right in his reach.

Quinn felt it too as if she was flying along with him, not caring about anything but the man on top of her as he brought her to a new kind of high.

Hawks opened his eyes and he felt his heart stop. She was looking right at him, her eyes full of love and lust for him. He was sure his own mirrored hers. Mouths were opened, only shuddering breaths were coming out with each deep thrust. Quinn’s hands traveled to his back, raking her nails across his skin, leaving red marks behind. She was so close and so was Hawks, with one final thrust, they both felt that white-hot flash run through their body.

“FUCK!” They both screamed as their release hit them at the same time. Slowly they rode out their orgasm, Hawks moving slowly and Quinn’s body going limp. Pulling out of her, Hawks took off the condom, knotting the top and tossing it in the trash can.

Slowly he let down her legs, moving next to her, he placed one arm under her shoulders and another under her knees. Gently he moved her further up the bed to where the pillows were, moving the comforter so he could wrap her in it.

Once Quinn was snuggled into the bed he walked over to the light switch, turning it off. Climbing onto the mattress next to his beloved, Hawks placed an arm over her waist, his head resting on her chest. Quinn moved her free arm to rub her finger through his soft hair. Lulling him into a deep sleep. The love between them didn’t need words, they knew that they had something different, something real.

Quinn opened her eyes to the sound of a water bottle being crushed. Her mouth was dry as if full of cotton and her lower half was sore. Sitting up she saw the white containers of what looked like Halal food and Hawks clothes thrown around the room. Flashes of last night flooded her mind.

“Baby why am I so thirsty?! What was in that cereal bar?” Hawks was sitting in front of the minibar, opening his fourth bottle of water.

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

[levi-inthesun]

You and Me, Together - Chapter 3

Background: You and your brother Peter were adopted by Tony and Pepper Potts-Stark when you were both teenagers. You’ve been dating Quentin Beck since your sophomore year of college and things (seem) to be looking up… until they aren’t.

Pairing: Quentin Beck x Parker!Reader eventual!someone x Parker!Reader

Social Media AU/mix, College AU, Friends to Lovers

Title/plot inspo: You & Me Together by the 1975

General Warnings: Swearing, angst, cheating

“Fuck,” you breathed as you forced your eyes open and stretched. Something didn’t seem right. You looked around the room and realized it wasn’t your room and panic began to build inside you. You looked down to see you were dressed in a familiar t-shirt that was too big for you and a pair of similarly too big sweat pants. You glanced around the room again and recognized the posters on the wall and the large bookcase filled to the bring. “Bucky?” You called out, voice raspy.

A voice came from the floor to your left, “Keep your voice fucking down,” he whined. 

“Oh thank god!” you sighed in relief as you flopped off the bed and onto one of your closest friends. “I was terrified I went home with some random dude, because.... you know.”

Bucky let out an annoyed huff as your body weight landed on him but was quick to wrap his arms around you reassuringly. “Trust me, even drunk you isn’t capable of even minutely breaking trust, let alone cheating.”

You nodded as tears of relief prickled at your eyes. “Okay, good. Thank you.” You rolled to the side so you were facing your friend. “So are you going to fill me in on what happened last night?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. But let's not waste a perfectly comfy bed by staying on the floor?”

Once you two were settled and had drunk some water, Bucky began to fill you in.

After you and Carol had had your fill of Joe’s delicious, orgasmic pizza, you both skipped over to the bar where most of your friends were waiting. You had spotted Steve and Sam first, flirting with each other at the bar while they ordered drinks, everyone else was at your normal booth.

Carol decided she’d grab drinks for the two of you since you had insisted on paying for pizza and you continued on to the booth. 

“Hey guys,” you greeted and Bucky scooted towards the wall so you could sit.

“Y/N!” Pietro yelled a bit too loudly, “You are here!” Pietro then basically climbed over the table to leave a wet kiss on your forehead. “I was getting bored without you!” he pouted. Wanda, Bucky, and Nat all rolled their eyes.

“Whatever,” you retorted, “You are just going to go home with that hot redhead sitting by the bar anyways in about an hour, I think you’d have lived.” 

Pietro eyed the bar, catching a glimpse of the redhead you had mentioned.

“Fuck, why do you have to know me so well?” he asked and you just shrugged in response. 

Then Carol, Steve, and Sam showed up with drinks and french fries, Carol sitting next to you, sliding your rum and coke over.

Conversation flowed throughout the evening and once you were another drink or so in, you turned to Bucky with an eyebrow raised.

“No,” he said, knowing exactly what you were about to propose. “No way, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Bucky,” you scoffed, “You’re just afraid to lose to me again.”

“Uh, pretty sure your memory is mistaken,” Nat piped up. “You have never won a drinking contest... like ever.”

“Uh, please keep the facts to yourself, Natalia, I almost had him,” you said, voice hushed.

Bucky just laughed, full and hearty. The kind of laugh that only came out after he’d had a few drinks and could relax. “Not doing it,” he reiterated.

“How about this,” you countered. “Whoever wins gets to have the sleepover at their place and the loser has to buy the winner coffee for a week.”

Bucky eyed you suspiciously, “I know you think you have something up your sleeve because you LOVE having sleepovers at your place and not mine. But I am not going to do this because I would feel like I am taking advantage of you because of the fact that you are a  lightweight.” 

“Does that mean you concede?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. “You know the rules, either participate or concede.”

“Fuck.” Bucky sighed.

That is how he found a line of shots in front of him, you across the table with the same, despite the fact that literally, everyone tried to talk you out of this.

And then, just as everyone (except you) anticipated, Bucky won (yet again) and you got pouty, taking your phone out to text your boyfriend.

Quentin looked up from his phone sighing before he noticed he had missed a voicemail from last night. He moved out of the walkway and sat down on a bench, having just gotten out of class and he hit play.

“Quennnnnnntiiiiiiiiin,” your voice sang. “I am soooo sad we c-couldn’t get pizza together, but I went w-with Carol and then the bar with everyone and I wish you would hang out with all of us again BUT ANYWAYS I lost the drinking c-contest and am gonna get dropped off and Bucket’s house CAUSE WE ARE HAVING A SLEEEEEPOOOOOOVEEERRRRRRR.” In the background, he could hear Bucky laughing and calling to you. “Anyways I looooooooove youuuuuuuu!” and then the voicemail ended.

Frustration began to build inside Quentin as his fists clenched at his side. All the looks you and inside jokes you and Bucky shared flashed behind his eyes and soon he found himself losing control and in a jealous rage. He stood up quickly and made his way to his motorbike, throwing on his helmet before zooming off of campus and to Bucky’s apartment. 

As he weaved through minimal afternoon traffic and before he knew it he was at Bucky’s door.

You and Bucky were sitting on the floor in the living room eating pancakes when someone began pounding on the door. Bucky quickly got up and opened it. 

“Is my girlfriend here?” he demanded.

Bucky looked at him, a puzzled expression on his features, “Yeah, man, she’s in the living room,” he said as he opened the door wider and moved out of the way for Quentin to enter.

“Quentin!” You greeted him, mid-bite of Bucky’s famous, hangover-curing, pancakes.”What are you doing here?” You set your plate down and stood up to go hug your boyfriend.

“Did you sleep with him?” Quentin asked voice low and dangerous.

You stared at him as if hed struck you in response for a moment. “Quentin, do you fucking realize who you’re talking to?”

Something in the back of his mind itched and he struggled through memories to remember why you liked like he had just slapped you across the face. He watched as you scrubbed your hands over your eyes and wrapped your arms around your middle.

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Quentin breathed as he took a tentative step forward, testing the waters before he closed the distance and wrapped his arms around you. “I am so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. “I was being dumb and jealous and I can’t believe I had forgotten.” 

You and Quentin had met in the dorms freshman year. You were dating your high school boyfriend, Brock and you were excited about life and still a bit naive. Brock was in one of the fraternities, but you could never remember which one. Your friendship with Quentin began to grow and you knew you could count on him and he could count on you. You shared late-night study sessions with Wanda and her twin brother Pietro, game nights with this new group of friends that was quickly forming, adding in some of your friends you’d had since childhood, including Bucky, Steve, Carol, and Natalia. Brock would make appearances whenever he didn’t have commitments to the frat and would spend the night at your dorm as often as he could. 

Brock had been your first kiss, your first love, your first everything, and you could imagine him being a part of the rest of your life. 

Except one day he stopped picking up the phone and he stopped coming over. He offered no explanation and figured you wouldn’t get one until one day, you saw him making out with one of the girls from the sorority his frat did events with, you think her name is Sharon.

You walked over to them calmly, “Brock,” you called, voice clipped and authoritative, much to your surprise. Brock turned to you, one hand holding her face, the other on her ass. 

“What,” he asked, rolling his eyes when he saw you.

“I’m guessing this is why you dropped out of my life?” You spat, desperately trying to hold yourself together.  

“Yep.” “FUCK JUST WHY?” You yelled, drawing more attention than you would have liked. 

“Because I have been bored with you since senior year of high school, Y/N. The only reason I stuck around after that was because you finally let me fuck you. I’ve been seeing Sharon since freshman orientation,” he said with an eye roll, and Sharon looked at you like you were gum stuck to her shoe. 

You felt the tears finally fall and you began to run away as fast as you could. You stopped when your lungs began to burn and the world began to cave in around you. 

Quentin ran faster than he thought possible across campus, not noticing when he bumped into people. The weird hand statue came into view and then he saw you, huddled into yourself on the ground, sobs rippling through you and other students near you tried to figure out what to do. 

“Y/n,” he called to you softly, desperately trying to pull you out of yourself. “Hey, you are going to be okay, I just need you to look at me.” 

You finally forced your head to look up into his blue eyes and listened as he helped you out of your panic attack. “Just breath with me, alright?” he asked, placing one of your hands on his chest, the other on your own. You nodded and forced your lungs to breathe deeper, slower. 

Soon, the edges of your world went from black and suffocating to soft and filled with his eyes and his smile and his voice. He helped you up from the ground and helped you get to your dorm where you finally told him everything. He spent the next few months helping you put yourself back together with the help of your other friends.

“Y/N, will you forgive me?” Quentin asked, his eyes begging, tinged with something you couldn’t place.

“I just...” you broke away from him. “I need a bit of time. You know how badly Brock hurt me, you were there and you know.” 

Quentin nodded and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before exiting Bucky’s apartment.

[duchessfics]

The Act

(https://ahsdaily.co.vu/post/152262225915/audrey-you-are-red-and-blue-you-are-the-color-of)

Audrey x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Drinking

Summary: Audrey has the reader act like her girlfriend at a party to keep someone from flirting with her. Then she ends up drinking too much and the reader has to take care of her.

Word Count: 2125 words

A/n: I thought this would be a cute idea and I feel like drunk Audrey would be pretty adorable too. So I hope you enjoy! 

I sit at the bar, swirling my drink around as I look over the group of people celebrating our movie premier. It is exciting and I feel privileged to have done some of the makeup, but overcrowded and loud groups are not really my scene. I finish my drink and think to myself, “You’ve seen the movie and have spent an appropriate amount of time at the afterparty. Now you can go home and take a nice, relaxing bubble bath.” I smile at the idea of a relaxing night and get up, heading to the exit. However, before I can head out of the door, someone snatches my wrist and pulls me aside.

I look to see that it’s Audrey Tindall, one of the main stars. “Um, yes?” I ask, bewildered at what she could possibly want from me. Her hand lets me go and she looks over her shoulder before she says, “I need you to do something for me.” My brows furrow and I say, “Ok?” She looks me over and says, “I need you to act like my girlfriend.”

My eyes widen and I can already see the drama headlines about this. I backup and respond, “Actually I was just about to leave—” but I get cut off by a man’s voice saying, “Audrey! There you are! I was looking all over for you.” Then I see it’s the lead actor for the movie. He has that conventionally attractive look, but I don’t necessarily fawn over him like others because…well…I’m attracted to women.

Audrey gives a light laugh and replies, “I apologize, I was actually looking for my girlfriend.” Then she grabs my wrist, making me squeak as I am pulled back to her from trying to sneak out. Audrey pulls me up beside her and gives me a smile with a warning look in her brown eyes. Then she says, “This is,” but as her face scans my face, I can tell she has no idea what my name is. “Well, you’re perfectly capable of introducing yourself, darling.” She recovers. My eyebrows flatten in annoyance and I say, “It’s y/n.” Then I glance at the actor and he looks between us, not convinced. “I’m surprised. I never saw you both on set together.” I look towards Audrey, letting her resolve that. “Yes, well y/n is terribly shy and didn’t want to draw attention away from work.” I look back to the actor, giving a half smile and feeling way out of my depth.

The actor studies me and I feel like he can see right through my act. As I step closer to Audrey, I feel her hand move from my wrist to my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine. “So,” he begins, looking me over, “what exactly did you do on set?” my gaze falters at the direct eye contact and I answer, “I did some of the makeup application in the movie.” His perfectly shaped eyebrow raises, and he says, “Ah.” But he eyes me down as if he has doubts about that.

We get interrupted by someone calling for the main actors. I look to Audrey and say, “Go ahead. I’ll meet you at home.” She raises her eyebrow, clearly impressed by my quick thinking. But our plans get thwarted by the actor butting in and saying, “Nonsense. Surely you want to see the toast to your girlfriend, don’t you?” He smirks and I look to Audrey’s pleading dark brown eyes. “O-of course.” I respond, stepping closer to Audrey and we make our way to the center of the group.

Once there, Audrey lets my hand go and I watch them go up by the director. I look back towards the exit, but console myself, “After this, I can head out.” The director makes a speech and specifically addresses Audrey and the other lead actors. We all clap as they toast and all drink champagne. Then she looks to me and lifts her glass, a smile on her face. I smile back but am not sure if this is still an act or if it’s genuine. I turn and begin to walk away, ready to get home.

However, I hear the familiar English voice say, “Y/n, darling!” I take a deep breath and turn back to see her walking up to me. She cups my face and bends towards me, kissing me on the cheek. I blush as she does and she leans closer towards my ear and whispers, “Stay a little longer?” I eye her down, knowing that guy seems a little obsessed with her. After mentally cursing myself for being too nice, I reply, “Ok.” She grins and takes my hand, leading me over to the bar.

“What drink would you like? My treat.” Audrey says as we sit at the bar. I bite my lip and reply, “That’s ok.” She waves her hand and says, “Nonsense. You can have whatever you want.” Her brown eyes study me and I find my face warming under her gaze. “Umm, I’ll just have a coke.” I say. Her brows furrow and she says, “You mean a rum and coke?” I look down and reply, “No. Just a coke. I have to drive home, so…” She chuckles and replies, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Then she orders my drink and a drink for herself.

I slowly sip on my soda as Audrey throws back more than one beverage. “So, you do makeup?” she asks. I nod and say, “Yeah.” Then she says, “You seem to do well. You look beautiful tonight.” I blush and look down before replying, “Thanks. You look beautiful as well.” She gives me a silly grin and I notice her tongue, struggling to guide the straw to her mouth. “Audrey…Are you drunk?” I ask. She looks at me and says, “Pfft, no.” but her movements are clumsier than usual.

I place my hand on hers and say, “Let me drive you home.” She looks away and responds, “I’m fine.” But I roll my eyes and tell her, “You made me act like your girlfriend. Now I’m making you ride home with me.” Audrey eyes me down, a smirk forming, and she murmurs, “I like it when you tell me what to do.” Then she bites her bottom lip. My cheeks burn as she throws back the rest of her drink and I help her stand and walk to the exit. Luckily, she keeps herself composed until that damned actor shows up, blocking our path. “Leaving so soon?” he asks with a smirk. I force myself not to roll my eyes and reply, “Actually yes. We’re both tired. So, if you don’t mind.” Then I step past him, guiding Audrey. However, she perks up and turns back, saying his name.

“I see the way you look down on y/n.” she says, wagging her finger. I try to tug her and keep moving, but she keeps talking, “But I think she makes a splendid girlfriend and she’s hotter than you will ever be.” My eyes widen at the closing remark and he glares at me. “Um, she’s had a lot to drink. I’m sure she doesn’t mean it.” But then Audrey says, “Oh I absolutely mean it.” My cheeks burn and I get her to start moving again so we can end that awkward discussion. However, once we leave the building, I grin to myself thinking about the look on his face.

As I help Audrey into the passenger’s side she says, “Y/n, I think I’m drunk.” She definitely smells like alcohol as I lean in to buckle her. “It’s ok. When you get home, you can sleep it off.” I say to her and myself, thinking about how different this night turned out. Then I get in the driver’s side and ask, “What’s you address?” She stays silent and I look over to check if she’s passed out. But she just looks at me, nibbling her bottom lip. “I could just go to your place.” She murmurs before giggling. Her light laughter makes me get butterflies, but I shake my head and ask, “Can you just tell me your address, please?” Then she giggles to herself and feigns innocence saying, “I don’t know.” I glare at her, but I can tell her mind is made up. So, I start up my car and begin to drive to my apartment.

As I drive, Audrey gets closer to me and murmurs, “You smell nice.” Her breath on my ear makes goosebumps appear all over me. But I keep silent, not wanting to rile her up. Once we get to my apartment building, I have to wake up Audrey and practically carry her to my door. While I do so, she murmurs something about me being a good girlfriend. After we enter, I help her to my bedroom and have her sit before I kneel to unstrap her heels. “Y/n, such a tease.” She says with a giggle. My cheeks flush at her sultry tone, but I just chuckle and say, “You’re going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow morning.” She just giggles and starts to play with my hair.

After taking off her shoes, I stand back up and before I can get my balance, Audrey grabs me and pulls me down on top of her. I gasp and look into her brown eyes as she murmurs, “Make love to me, darling.” She bites her lip and clumsily wraps her legs around my waist. I pry her legs and arms off of me and stand before saying, “Let me, um, freshen up before we—do that.” She smirks and replies, “I’ll be waiting.” I step out of the room, however, instead of freshening up, I sit on my couch, scrolling through my phone.

About ten minutes later I go back in to see Audrey passed out on the bed. I let out a soft laugh and shift her body so I can pull the covers over her. Then I get into my pajamas and take off my makeup before going to my living room couch and laying down with an extra blanket. By the time all is said and done, it’s almost two in the morning. I don’t set an alarm, knowing that I will likely be up before Audrey, and fall asleep pretty quick.

Sure enough, I wake up at nine and still see her passed out on my bed. So, I get ready and start to make some scrambled eggs and toast. As I do so Audrey staggers out, one hand holding her head. “Morning.” I say, hiding a small smile. Audrey looks to me and her eyes widen. “Oh shit. Y/n, about last night—” “You’re fine.” I say and give her a reassuring smile. Then I bite my lip before saying in a softer tone, “It was actually a little endearing.”

Her eyes get even wider and she comes up to me asking, “What exactly did I say last night?” I look down at the pan and reply, “You told me that you liked the idea of me being your girlfriend.” Then she lets out a breath and says, “That’s better than I thought.” However, I meet her eyes and say, “You also asked me to make love to you before passing out.” I grin as her cheeks turn red and she lets out a groan, hiding her face. “Hey,” I say, making her peek through her fingers. “Don’t worry about it.” Her eyes twinkle and she moves her hands back down. I grab a bottle of water and aspirin before saying, “You’ll probably want this.” She takes the pills and says, “Thank you so much.” Then I give her a wink, feeling extra feisty and reply, “You’re welcome.”

After we both eat something, Audrey takes a shower and puts on some of my clothes. Then she orders and uber and tells me, “Thank you for the clothes. How should I return them to you?” Normally I’m not one to be so bold, but I respond, “We could get together sometime. Maybe get to know each other a little more.” At first, she just stares at me, completely silent and I feel like an idiot. However, her lips curve into a smile and she replies, “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea. I’ll add your number so I can text you sometime.” I let out a soft sigh of relief and tell her my number. Then her phone dings and she says, “My ride is here. But it was nice meeting you and I look forward to seeing you again.” I tell Audrey goodbye and after she walks out, I bite my lip, thankful that I let her keep me at the party.

[stormtrprinstilettos]

 Chameleon - Ch. 1

Summary: Reader (that's you!) moves to London, hoping to leave her past behind and find happiness. She makes friends with her new neighbors. (Guess who?) I can't summarize the entire story because, well, I don't even know where it's going or how it's going to end.

Word Count: 4,252  || AO3 link here

Notes: This is my first fanfic! I'm kind of nervous about sharing it, so please, be gentle. First chapter here gives the backstory. This isn’t going to be historically accurate, because it’s fiction. I don't even know which direction it's going to go, so like every girl should do when she's trying to decide between two guys, I'm weighing the pros and cons... You’ll get your smut - just have to follow along. *wink wink*  Hope you enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

You were in the taxi on a gloomy, rainy Sunday afternoon headed to the only place in the world you wanted to be, replaying the events of the last seven years in your head. They had been nothing but a big, nauseating roller coaster ride that you were barely strapped in for, and all you wanted was normalcy for a change. You wanted – no, you needed to prove to yourself that you didn’t need to depend on anyone, that you were perfectly capable of not being the massive fuck up that your dad always told you that you were whenever he was on one of his drunken rampages. The only person who ever gave you any semblance of encouragement, your mom, had passed away when you were 14. By the time you were 16 you left home, tired of being your dad’s figurative punching bag. Mark, the older guy you met a few weeks before leaving, promised he would take care of you, and you believed him. It only took a few months for you to become his literal punching bag, but you believed him when he said he loved you, so you forgave him every single time.

When you were 18, you went back home, deciding that it was time to grow up. Your dad offered you a job at his company, and you thrived, but he never missed a chance to let you know that you were still a massive fuck up. He had a fatal heart attack a year later, and then you ended up with his money, his house and the flat in London that your grandmother left him when she passed away. Mark showed back up, said he was a changed man, and, as always, you believed him.

You didn’t want to stay home anymore so you left, leaving the business in the hands of the people who knew what they were doing. You wanted to travel and took Mark along as your companion. You and your mom traveled a lot when she was alive, and you missed her – you needed her – and thought that going back to the places the two of you loved would somehow bring her back in whatever form she could return. You should have been happy, but you were miserable, thanks to Mark. One day he decided he wanted to go to India and change himself after reading an article in some magazine about how The Beatles did this transcendental meditation stuff, so you went to the airport in Paris, bought him his plane ticket and that was the last time you ever saw him.

When he left for India, you left to go back home, determined to grow the hell up, maybe go to college or something. You didn’t know, or care, but you wanted stability… normalcy. You were 21 at this point and it was time to be a big girl. You met with your father’s best friend, Jake, who was also his business partner, one night so he could go over the stuff about the company that you didn’t even care about. You woke up the next morning with him laying next to you in bed. The only thing that bothered you about it was the fact that it didn’t bother you at all.

And so that’s how it continued. Jake would run the business, he’d come over once a month to go over to give you updates that you didn’t even care about, and he’d wake up in your bed the next morning before going home to his wife. Soon it started to get to you that when he wasn’t around, you weren’t getting that affection, so you had to go find it somewhere else. Attention equaled affection, self-destruction was your therapy, and you needed both. You didn’t even remember their names most of the time, but it didn’t matter, because you’d probably never see them again anyway. None of it bothered you, because if you had any combination of alcohol, drugs and sex, you were okay. Anything to make you not have to deal with reality.

Everything was fine until Jake’s wife figured out what was going on. He gave you the whole sob story about how he loved his wife but she just wasn’t satisfying him so that’s why he would sleep with you, and how she would take the kids and half of his money and...  blah blah blah  , you thought. You rolled your eyes as he was telling you because you really didn’t care. The only reason for him to exist in your world was to go down on you (because the actual sex wasn’t even good) and take care of the business affairs that you had no clue about. His wife demanded that he buy out your share of the company, so you agreed, and just like that he was gone.

One morning - or afternoon, rather - you woke up with another massive hangover and another random person in your bed. As you stumbled to get a drink of water, you caught a glance of yourself in the hallway mirror and stopped to look at yourself. Your bloodshot eyes, your hair a knotted mess, mascara running down your cheeks, lipstick smeared all over your face. “You really are a massive   fuck   up,” you told yourself. The only way you were ever going to fix yourself was to change everything - your attitude, your friends, your surroundings… everything. You called Sam - he was your financial advisor of sorts, the one who took care of your money so you didn’t blow everything - and told him you wanted to go to London. He took care of the arrangements, and now here you were. Rain beating on the taxi window as the driver pulled up to the sidewalk to let you out.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰  

“Here you are, Miss,” the driver said as he parked the car and snapped you out of your thoughts. “We can wait until the rain stops if you’d like.”

“No, that’s alright,” you say with a smile. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

He jumped out of the car, came around to your door to let you out, pulled your two suitcases out of the trunk as you took the money out of your purse to pay him. He offered to help you bring your bags in, but you insisted you could do it yourself, so you exchanged pleasantries and he was off.  

You proceed to attempt to drag your suitcases up the steps to the front door, making things more complicated than they needed to be, just like you always do. They were both way too heavy for you to handle alone, and you could have kicked yourself for not taking the taxi driver up on his offer, but you took the whole “I need to do things on my own” pep talk you gave yourself just a bit too literal. You start to lose your grip on one of the bags, so you let it go, intending for it to stay on the step until you got the other one inside of the door, only for it to go barreling down to the sidewalk.

"Of course," you murmur to yourself. You let go of the other suitcase to chase after it, not thinking, and that one also fell to the sidewalk, and that was all it took to break you. You sit on the steps in the rain, let your head fall into your hands, and allow the tears that you had no idea you had been holding back to flow.

"You alright?" a voice asks. You don’t move. You’re too embarrassed. The voice gets closer. "Hey, are you okay? Do you need some help?" You feel a hand on your shoulder, which you find quite comforting. You slowly lift you head and turn towards the voice. "Are you alright?" the voice asks again, for the third time. "You don't look alright."

You study the face in front of you, not knowing how to answer. No, you aren’t alright, but who is this person and why is he concerned? He looks kind enough. You can tell he is genuinely concerned, but you’re afraid if you speak you’ll let out everything that’s going on in your head. You don’t know this person and he doesn’t need to deal with it. He smiles, not showing his teeth, which you can tell he’s trying to hide, but you aren’t really even focused on that. His eyes. You feel such a comfort in his eyes. "Do you need some help?" You nod, finally acknowledging the fact that he is speaking to you and give the stranger a thankful smile. "Alright, let's go then." He jumps up and walks down the steps, and you follow. You each grab a suitcase and walk back up the steps. "Fuck's sake, what do you have in this thing? Everything you own?" the stranger complains about the weight of the bag but doesn’t seem to struggle with it.

You look back and giggle, "Well, that one has half of everything I own. This one has the other half."

"Oh! She speaks!" the stranger exclaims over-dramatically. "I was beginning to think you were mute!"

You smile sheepishly and explain. "No, I'm not mute. I've just had a long flight in and am having a shitty day. You're the first person I've encountered since I got on the plane in New York that hasn't been absolutely dreadful from the start." You pause, waiting at the door for the stranger to make it up the last few steps. "Thank you so much for the help."

"Not a problem, doll," the stranger replies, looking quixotically into your eyes. "You're not from here."

You laugh, "What gave it away?"

"Your hair," the stranger replies sarcastically. "No one in the entire United Kingdom has hair like that." You both laugh. "I'm Freddie," the stranger says as he extends his hand. "I live here with my two friends. Well, they live there. I'm just staying with them until I get a place of my own. So I suppose I do live here, just temporarily."

"Y/N," you answer as you shake his hand. "I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Freddie."

Freddie helps you carry your suitcases into the flat, taking the opportunity to glance around the inside. "We were wondering why this place was locked up with no one living inside, but it looks like someone does?" He noticed the place was fully furnished, only all of it was covered by sheets.

"Yeah, this was my grandma's place." Your voice trails off as you look around reflectively. "I haven't been here since she passed away." You take a deep breath, snapping yourself out of the sentimental journey you were about to embark on. There was plenty of time to do that, and you knew you would, but you wanted to be alone when it began. Freddie had already seen you crying and looking like a drowned rat and you didn't want to overwhelm him with any more of your emotions. "I spent a lot of summers here with Grams. Millions of good memories here." Your voice trails off again. This was the only place you ever felt comfortable. Happy. Welcomed. Safe.

"Well if you need any help getting settled in or cleaning up, I'm right next door. Two other guys there, too, who I'm sure would be happy to help if you need us," Freddie offers.

Freddie seems to be genuine in his kindness, and you appreciate it. Most of the time when guys were nice to you for no reason it was because they only had intentions of getting you into bed. But there was just something about Freddie that didn't make you feel uncomfortable or like a piece of meat he wanted to gnaw into. "Thank you, Freddie. You're really kind to offer, but..."

"No, no," he stops you as he holds up a hand. "No 'buts.' If you need help, ask for it. We don't need you sitting on the steps in the rain crying again. It makes the neighborhood aesthetic ugly." Freddie chuckles and turns to head to the door. "And before you get offended I did not say that you're ugly," he yells back. You smile, relieved that you have at least one nice person in your orbit.  

He waves and walks out the door, leaving you there, feeling optimistic for the first time in months, feeling that finally everything was going to be okay.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

"We have a new neighbor!" Freddie proclaimed as he walked inside the flat, seeing his two roommates sitting in the living room. "She just arrived."

"She??" one of the roommates asked excitedly.  

Freddie rolled his eyes and chuffs, "Yes, Roger. She. And she's sweet and adorable and I will not allow you to corrupt her." Noticing his friend sinking into the sofa looking somewhat defeated, Freddie explained further. "She flew in from America this morning. She's tired." He walked over and took a seat in the chair and continued. "Her name is Y/N. That was her grandmother's place next door."

"Oh, yeah?" Brian, the other roommate piped up. "I was wondering if anyone was ever going to live in there."

Roger started to laugh. "Yeah, we were hoping it would be you, Fred, to get you off our sofa."  The three of them get along fantastically, and the truth is that they wouldn't know how to handle it if one would have moved out. They are polar opposites, personality-wise, and even interest-wise, but what bonded them together was their love for music.

"Well now that you've found us an adorable neighbor, think you can find us a bass player, Fred?" Brian asked in a frustrated tone. "I saw Bogie today and he told me he was quitting the band to go with some other blokes."

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You walk out of the bedroom with your hair pulled up, wearing an old, ragged t-shirt, blue jeans and a worn-out pair of sneakers. You know that if you take a nap like you desperately want to you would lose all motivation to at least get started with the cleanup. You stand in the living room and try to decide which area you would tackle first. You start to remove the sheets and drop cloths that cover the furniture, making sure not to disturb the dust that had been collecting over the years. After everything is uncovered, you sit on the sofa and smile to yourself. “Home. I'm finally home.”

This room feels cluttered. You look over to the old apothecary cabinet that is against a window on the back wall and think if you move it somewhere else it would feel more open. You try, but it’s heavier than it looks. After struggling to get it to the back of the room, you realize it won’t fit against the wall under the huge mirror that is hanging there. Frustrated, more at yourself for not planning it out better, you start to yell. "Dammit!" Your voice echoes throughout the room and over to the other side of the wall. After yelling out every possible word you could think of that fit the moment, you turn on your heels, face the rest of the room, and realize how loud it is in there without the rugs down. "Where are the rugs?" you yell. "This room needs fucking rugs!" You start walking around the room as if your heavy pacing will make rugs miraculously appear when you hear a knock on the door.

Still in your fit of anger, you fling open the door, exasperated. "I told you to come get me if you needed help, dear." Freddie says, standing there, somewhat taken aback by the look of utter frustration on your face. "What's going on over here?"

"I can't put the fucking cabinet against the wall and I can't find the fucking rugs and..."

He grabs your shoulders and starts shaking you, trying to calm you down. "Why are you doing this today? You should be resting," Freddie says in an almost paternalistic tone. "Show me what you're trying to do." He nudges you inside, following you to the middle of the room. "Well, love, that won't fit..."

You snap. "I know it won't fit. I know that now." You gaze angrily at the mirror on the wall. "And I can't move the mirror because I'm too short." You sigh, realizing that Freddie is the last person you should be taking your anger out on. "I'm sorry for being bitchy. I'm just so tired."

He smiles at you reassuringly and puts his hands on your shoulders and stares into your eyes trying to calm you down. "I know you're tired. Wait here and I'll get some help, alright?" You nod, and Freddie walks out the door, leaving it open so he doesn’t have to bother you again.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

"Alright, you two, I need someone tall and strong to come help our damsel in distress," Freddie called out as he walked back into his flat.

Roger quickly stood up, ready to spring into action, before Brian pushed him back down. "He said 'tall,' Rog ," Brian joke s . At over six feet tall, Brian didn't exactly tower over Roger and Freddie, but he never wasted a chance to let them know that he was taller than them.

"He also said 'strong,' Bri," Roger sarcastically replie d.

"Cut it out," Freddie interrupted. "I need at least one of you to come help." Both walked eagerly to the door, anxious to meet their new neighbor. "And Roger? I'm warning you now. Do not..."

Roger rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. 'Do not corrupt her.' I know." He smirked mischievously and walked out the door. Freddie turned to Brian.

"I'm not going to corrupt her either, Fred,” Brian joked.

"You couldn't corrupt a virgin, Brian. I'm not worried about you." Brian raised an eyebrow and followed Freddie out the door.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You’re standing off to the side of the living room with your back facing the door as the three of them walk in. You’re so deep in thought you didn't even hear their footsteps, trying to picture what the room would look like if you move some of the other furniture around. Your thoughts are interrupted by Freddie's voice. "I'm back and I've brought in the reinforcements."

Startled, you turn around, only to be startled once more, hoping desperately that you aren’t showing it, and politely smile at the two new visitors.

"Hi, I'm Roger," the blonde-haired one says as he moved in closer, hand extended. His eyes catch you completely off guard. They’re so blue – the bluest eyes you had ever seen.

"Oceans," you say out loud, feeling yourself turning red with embarrassment once you realize that didn't stay in your head. "I'm sorry," you try to recover, squinting your eyes and shaking your head. "Your eyes. They remind me of the Caribbean ocean, that's all. I've never seen eyes that color." You smile and shake his hand. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

Freddie quickly grabs your shoulders and directs your attention elsewhere. "This is my other roommate," glaring at Roger as if to tell him to stop thinking whatever he was thinking.

"Brian," the tall, curly haired one says with a smile. "I'm Brian. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He hold out his hand, which you happily shake and smile back. You don’t have to say anything. He knows the pleasantness he’s feeling while he’s touching your hand is reciprocated. Your shared gaze, handshake and smile lingers, not going unnoticed by the other two people in the room.

Freddie clears his throat, interrupting the shared trance between you and Brian. "So... shall we do this?" He walks over to the cabinet. "Brian, you're tall. Grab that mirror. Roger, help me push this thing over there." You stand back, watching the three of them get the cabinet saga resolved almost instantly. When they’re finished, they step back, admiring their work as if they had just finished building the Eiffel Tower. You can’t help but giggle. They all turn to face you when they hear.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you guys are so proud and..." You stop. You don’t want them to think you were making fun of them or that you’re unappreciative of the help. "It's just..." you stumble over your words and sigh. "Thank you. Really. I'd offer dinner or drinks, but I have nothing to give."

They all smile, no offense taken. Roger is the first to pipe up, completely amused and mystified by your voice. "I don't need a drink or food. Just keep talking to me. Your accent is..."

"Adorable." Everyone turns their eyes to Brian. He stands there, hand rubbing on the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed that he blurted that out. "Well, it is," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "Never heard an accent like yours. It's... adorable." You blush.

"It's sexy as hell," piped up Freddie. You scowl at him. "What? It is! You will melt a million hearts with that voice of yours. It's exotic around here." Roger and Brian nod in agreement while you blush even more. Freddie pinches your cheek and gives a wink as he tells you, "Get used to the attention, babe. You're gorgeous." He walks toward the door and beckons everyone to follow him. "Come, now. Let’s go home. You come too, Y/N. We have food and beer." The three of you follow, doing as you were told.

The guys have so many questions for you, naturally, as you do for them, and you feel surprisingly comfortable sharing a bit your story with them as all of you sip your bottles of beer and eat the sandwiches the guys were kind enough to supply. You learn how they met each other, and of their band. You find out about Roger's schooling for dentistry and Brian's work in astronomy. It was confirmed, just as you had guessed, that Freddie was the artistic one in the group. You give them very minimal details about your life, not wanting to scare them off. You do tell them about when you were 16 and left home to join the hippies out in San Francisco, which they find amusing. They wonder how you got here, so you explain that this place was your grandmother’s, and now it’s yours since both of your parents had passed away.

"So you're a spoiled little rich girl who decided to move to London and spend daddy’s money," Roger blurts out after taking a drag of his cigarette,  not angrily or being mean. He’s joking, but you don’t find it funny, at all. Freddie slaps the back of Roger's head. "What? I'm just joking! Y/N, come on, I'm sorry. I was just joking." You aren’t hearing any of it. You’re tired anyway and don’t have the energy to put up a fight.

You stand up, grab your empty bottle and walk to the door. "I'm calling it a day, guys. Thanks for the help, food and beer." Brian glares at Roger as he stands up to follow you. Freddie starts whispering something to Roger that you can’t make out, but you don’t care.

"Hey. Y/N. Wait..." Brian calls out. You stop at the door, turn around and meet Brian's hazel eyes yours. "He can be a jerk, don't get me wrong, but really, he was joking. Don't let him get to you, okay?"

"I'm fine. Really. I'm just tired, probably cranky and being over sensitive. I've had to deal with so many emotions today I don't think there are any left for me to feel. Happy, sad, scared, excited, angry, puce..."

Brian chuckles. "Puce? Is that what you said?"

"Yeah. Puce." You try your best to explain the emotion you’ve always called  puce . "I don't know what else to call it. It's that feeling of excitement, but you're still sad, and scared, not thrilled but terrified, you know? You don't know whether you want to laugh or cry or punch someone. It's a terrible feeling. I didn't know a word for it, so I thought of the most terrible color I could think of and, well, I can't think of a color worse than puce."

Brian looks down at you with an amused grin. He is intrigued, to say the least, and he’s finding himself completely spellbound, needing to know more about you. The physical attraction was apparent. He was studying your every feature while you were all talking, from the natural highlights in your hair down to the way your feet turn slightly inward when you sat down. The way you talk fast and get overly detailed when you’re trying to explain something. He found the little quirks he picked up on to be charming: the way you talk with your hands; the way you nibble on your fingernails when you’re listening intently; the way you fidget with your rings. He couldn't help but wonder how many other quirks you had.

"Well, Y/N, I hope tomorrow you feel like a prettier color." You softly smile and walked out, closing the door behind you.

He turned around to rejoin the guys, only to see Freddie and Roger smirking at him, as if they could read the thoughts that were swirling in his mind. "Come on, Bri. You'll see her tomorrow," Freddie assured him. "Let's so see whose playing at the club. Maybe we'll find new bass player."

[agirlinjapan]

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars (Week 33)

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

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Wow! We’re so close to the end here! Just two more installations after this one and we’ll be done!

Translation notes

Near the beginning of this week’s installation, Izumiko drives past Kumano Hongu Taisha. This is a famous Shinto shrine.

While driving through Japan’s countryside, it’s not unusual to find rest stops that specialize in local goods and produce. They’re always worth stopping at! You can find great stuff at really reasonable prices.

-10 degrees Celsius is equal to 14 degrees Fahrenheit.

Red Data Girl: My Wish on the Night of the Shooting Stars By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 4: Mizuho Part 3 (1 of 3)

Izumiko returned to Mt. Tamakura with Yukariko.

It was difficult to say how Yukariko had worked this out with her job. Maybe she was acting as Izumiko’s guard. However, she showed no signs of this as they headed towards Haneda Airport. Instead, she simply acted like a normal parent. Izumiko hadn’t walked together with her mother like this since she had been about four years old.

Miyuki hadn’t changed his plans, choosing to stay in Tokyo with Yukimasa as he had said he would. Still, Izumiko couldn’t have wished for anything better than having the chance to travel with Yukariko.  She was grateful for the opportunity to tell her mother everything Mizuho had said. If she hadn’t been able to share what had happened so quickly, the story would have welled up inside of her like pus until it consumed her. As Yukariko was both someone involved in the event and the listener, she was happy to take in every tiny detail. As a result, it was the first time in a long while where a conversation they shared could not be called awkward.

When Izumiko told Yukariko how Mizuho had said she could stop Izumiko’s abilities, Yukariko was clearly shocked.

“She chose to say that in an attempt to trick you. She wanted to persuade you of what she might be capable of because she thought you wouldn’t be able to fight back against her that way. Mizuho wouldn’t have been able to control you long term though. She probably just said it to keep you quiet.”

Izumiko let her head droop, feeling relieved. “I think I’m too easily persuaded into believing what people tell me. I guess I’m just gullible.”

“There are times when people are easily persuaded into things, but that’s not always a bad thing.”

“But I got tricked into thinking that Dad knew about going to Hong Kong. There are bad parts about being easily persuaded too, aren’t there?”

“In the case of Mizuho, Daisei wasn’t connected to what was going on at all. That was guaranteed to trick you. I keep a close eye on everything Daisei does.” As they sat next to each other on the chairs in the gate waiting area, Yukariko smiled. “After all this, being gullible is a problem you will have only had in the past. Going forward, I doubt you’ll be tricked into anything again.”

Izumiko unconsciously wrapped her fingers around her braids. “So, can I change my hairstyle now?”

“Hair is said to be a source of spiritual power,” Yukariko said, somehow sounding like Yukimasa. She took one of her daughter’s braids and examined it. “My biggest wish hasn’t come true just yet. Keep these the way they are for just a little longer. I can’t say your abilities are stable quite yet and—”

Yukariko paused.

Izumiko looked curiously at her mother. “And what?”

“And Miyuki thinks your braids are cute.”

Izumiko pulled back in surprise.

“You’re lying.”

Chuckling, Yukariko said, “Yes, I’m lying. I’m the one who thinks they’re cute.”

There was nothing Izumiko could do about her red face and so she made herself as small as possible instead. Still, it felt unusual to have this sort of discussion with Yukariko. It didn’t feel like they hadn’t talked in a long time. Now that they were getting close again, Izumiko could tell that Yukariko was a playful person, but she had already known that somehow.

Oh right. The goddess…  

She agreed with what Miyuki had said. Yukariko was certainly a lot like the goddess.

When Izumiko and Yukariko left Nanki Shirahama Airport in the Kii Peninsula, Shingo Nonomura was there to pick them up in his car. It took more than three hours to drive across the prefecture to Mt. Tamakura, but Izumiko was much happier that he had come all this way for them instead of having them take a helicopter. She was overcome with relief to be back home.

Yukariko seemed happy as well.

“Thank you, Mr. Nonomura. As long as you’re driving, we can stop somewhere on the way so that I can get you something good.”

Seeming pleased, Mr. Nonomura looked over at Yukariko and smiled.

“Sawa’s already making a huge feast.”

“I know that. I was thinking more along the lines of some good local sake for you to take home.”

While she said that, Yukariko ended up buying more than just sake when they stopped. This was a new experience for Izumiko who had never stopped at a roadside local specialty store before. It was also unusual to be entering a store with her mother.

While driving, they passed Kumano Hongu Taisha, a major Shinto shrine, and followed a road north that ran next to the Kumano River for some time. The temperature was always mild in the Kii Peninsula, but it was still negative ten degrees Celsius.  While the roads didn’t tend to freeze entirely in December, once January came around, there would be plenty of times when it became impossible to drive all the way up to the top of the mountains.

In the winter, Tamakura Shrine was isolated from the people who lived at the base of the mountain and became a lonely place. Being away after so long, Izumiko savored the cold, clear, crisp smell of the top of the mountain. However, with their arrival, the connection that had formed between mother and daughter quietly lessened a bit. All the people who worked at the shrine had come up for the occasion and now they were surrounded by people.

Takeomi and Sawa came out to greet them, their expressions relaxed. Izumiko had heard plenty of stories about how Yukariko and her father, Takeomi, hadn’t gotten along well, but after Yukariko had entrusted Izumiko to the shrine and had left for Tokyo, Izumiko had barely seen them fight when her mother had come home for her brief visits. This was because during her rare returns, she always went out drinking with him and they were both impressive drinkers.

The evening meal on the night of their return was indeed impressive enough to be called a feast. There was drinking and singing and Izumiko, too, ate to her heart’s content and spent as long as she could with the people who had come to see her and Yukariko. Still, there was a limit to how long she could sit with people who were drinking so much.

Why is Mom so popular with everyone?

No matter how she looked at it, it was plain to see that all the people who worked at the shrine had come so as not to miss an opportunity to be with Yukariko. However, Yukariko, with sake in her cup, was not like any other woman Izumiko knew, and she acted as if she didn’t care at all. To Izumiko, her mother was cruder than she was charming, but it was obvious that people liked her anyway.

I wonder if I’ll ever wish I’m more like Mom…  

Thinking that she had a long way to go before she was ever like her mother, Izumiko went up to her room. There was a lot to think about when it came to the connection between the goddess, Yukariko, and her, but she was too tired for that now. The noise from downstairs didn’t bother her as she slipped off into sleep.

~*~

Yukariko’s return home was short. The next morning, she received a work call and a helicopter came to bring her back that afternoon.

“Mom, you really don’t get a lot of time off.”

“Well, there isn’t much time between one incident that requires my attention and the next.”

Izumiko felt disappointed as she sat at the table with her mother as Yukariko ate breakfast. It might have been the late morning, but Yukariko was still wearing the yukata she had slept in. She had already finished Sawa’s miso soup and was now leaning back in her chair as it digested.

“I really wanted to see you off to school myself this time. I know that Mizuho was able to take you because I wasn’t there for you. How could I not know it?” she said, her voice gentle. “So, I need a break. That arrest did not feel good…”

Yukariko usually wore a lot of makeup, but seeing as it hadn’t been long since she had woken up and she hadn’t put any on yet, her skin looked a little plain in the morning light. Izumiko liked this side of her mother more than the one she had seen the night before. Her eyes were downcast and she was calm as she quietly chose her words.

Still, it was clear that she was suffering from a hangover.

“Mom… Are you okay?”

“My head is pounding.”  

Yukariko groaned and then made her way carefully to take a bath. Izumiko let out an unconscious sigh. Just like that, she had barely gotten any time to talk with her mother. It was always like this.

However, the Yukariko who came out of the bath had recovered from her hangover surprisingly quickly. Her hair was already dry, and she was dressed and made up perfectly. She invited Izumiko on a walk.

The fog had cleared up early that day, but it was still a winter day and the weather reflected that. Izumiko and her mother walked through the cold under the tall pine trees and the other trees who had all since dropped their fall colored leaves to the ground. In this season where the usual green thickets had disappeared, there were now unusual boulders to be seen around Tamakura Shrine. The two of them walked past many of them as if greeting old friends.

“A sacred stone…” Yukariko said, running a hand across a bare stone face. “The Japanese people of old used to think the gods dropped special stones from the sky. The gods were said to have picked up these stones from incredibly hot places deep down in the earth. You could tell which stones were from the gods by touching them. That’s all because Japan is in a volcanic zone, and volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and hot springs gushing from the earth are all regular occurrences here. That’s what I think at least.”

“In other words, you think the gods are the magma inside the earth?” Izumiko asked her mother in surprise. She’d never heard anyone say that before.

Yukariko gave her daughter a tiny smile.

“In other words, stones are made of minerals. They’re the furthest things from life forms and while we think of them as hard and unmoving, they also make up the core of the earth. Long before there was life on the planet, stones were moving beneath it. Most likely, that’s the earth’s true destiny and organic lifeforms are just a small part of what’s happening here. You know those first organisms that crawled up onto the surface of the earth are distant relatives of everything walking under the sun today. That fact makes me happy. Gods are the true essence of happiness. Most likely, so is the goddess.

Izumiko gazed at the boulder in front of them.

“Happiness. That’s a good thing...”

“Life invites good and evil. But for that very reason, it’s right to appreciate fear. No matter what a living thing does, the gods will bring about a bad outcome. Even so, it’s right to pray for the strength to respect the fear that comes with the outcome.”

The perfectly clear air at the top of the mountain was cold even in the bright sunlight. In the silence of the open space where they stood, Yukariko’s voice sounded flat with nothing to reverberate off of. It sounded smaller than Izumiko had ever heard it before.

“The ancient ascetic monks walked on the mountains they had devoted themselves to, training in their ascetic ways, and knew the stones around them better than anyone else. They would burn sacred sticks to ask for the gods’ blessings.—They worked with fire as well. They also learned how to refine metal. They knew where deposits of metal were and could take gold, silver, and mercury from the ground. At that time in society, people were suspicious of this knowledge and treated the people who had learned these skills like frauds.

“Traces of this lifestyle still live on in today’s ascetic monks. The goddess is capable of the same connection to the past. She can see those ascetic monks in the distant past and learn from their experiences. When the goddess’s true nature is misjudged, the gods’ purity falls victim to human suspicion. Such are the lives of humans. It’s sad, but it happens so easily.”

Not looking at her mother, Izumiko asked quietly, “What should I do? How much should I hate being born into a life like this? How much do you hate it? I’ve been wanting to ask you those things for a long time now.”

Yukariko was quiet for a minute, but then she let out a loud laugh.

“You’re still not looking beyond yourself. For the time being, go out and live a little more. Expand your point of view. When you look further, inside and out, you won’t just find good things. You’ll probably find things you don’t like. Ugly things. But if you don’t let them frighten you, you’ll find things about yourself that you can’t even imagine now. Not discovering those things would be a waste of living your life.”

“Have you discovered those things, Mom? Are you happy with the way you are and with working in public safety?”

“I don’t regret having you. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it? I’m strong because you make me so.”

Izumiko looked at Yukariko in frustration. Her words felt empty as if she was saying them just to placate her.

“Are you strong enough not to be afraid of the goddess’s future? I’m definitely not strong enough for that.”

Yukariko’s manner changed at the emotion in Izumiko’s voice. When she looked at Izumiko this time, her expression was honest. Her eyes narrowed and she said softly, “If you’re talking about becoming a World Heritage Candidate, you’re right to be apprehensive. During my time with the goddess, I’ve tried to direct all such outcomes in a positive direction. Of course, no one can determine the future and in the end, it all comes down to what you decide. When it comes down to it though, there are the things I was able to do and the things the goddess was able to accomplish for the sake of the future. You know, your going to Houjou Academy is a new development in the goddess’s existence. It’s a place the goddess of the past has never seen before. You’ll be able to find new possibilities going forward.”

“…So, all the people I’ve met at Houjou Academy are new to the goddess too?”

Yukariko crossed her arms and then reached out to take one of her daughter’s braids in her hand. She ran the tip of her finger down it. Until now, the only other person who had made that searching gesture had been the goddess while she had been possessing her. It was so much like what she had done.

“That’s right. Even with those student’s you’ve met at school, your destiny is already slipping away from the futures I’ve experienced. The you in your braids now is a new person. A new me. A new you. We’re unique from anyone else on this planet. But isn’t that to be expected?”

“If I’m a new person, can I change the destruction in the future?” She took a breath and asked, “How can I change it?”

Yukariko smiled but then shook her head slowly.

“Don’t ask me that. You have to look for the new answers yourself. The path to those answers is spread out in front of you. Most likely, my own power will run out before you find them. But I take pride in the part I’ve played. And that feeling is nothing special. Everyone takes hold of their destiny and walks a path towards making what they want a reality.”

The way her mother spoke, Izumiko wondered if she was talking about the goddess. Still, she got the sense that it was okay if she couldn’t distinguish between the two. Her mother, the goddess… all the people in their lineage stretching all the way back had a wish—a wish to give people a better future—and that was what they strove for. For thousands of years, this was all the goddess had wanted for humankind.

Keep reading!

[yoongihoseok97]

The Night Before

Part one

Taehyung x reader , Yoongi x reader, fuckboyau! Fratboyau!

Summary-you didn’t really have much friends, about two, but everyone knew you. Whether that was because you hosted the best parties of the night or because of your brother has a particular taste in friends. either or, you think it’s you and your best friends reputation.

Warnings- strong language, mentions of sex, drinking and lots of really good looking frat boys

Friday night. you sighed heavily. thank god. your stressful week of prepping for the years finals can finally be covered up with alcohol, guys, girls, sleeping around...more alcohol. you unlocked your phone and went straight to your contacts, regardless of your teacher yelling over the hurdle of students to put it away. it was the only way you could actually talk to your roommate and get her to notice you. she tended to avoid social media’s just in case someone she didn’t really want to talk to popped up. despite her charming and innocent name, Margot definitely wasn’t. she had a... reputation. okay she sucked a lot of dick, but- she was one of the best people you knew and who could blame the lads. she was stunning, short curly, hair that was- well actually you didn’t really know what colour it was. a bit of everything? her root colour was her natural dark brown which then faded into a copper, streaked with gold-blonde and if you looked close enough, reminders of a reddish-purple from when she has died her hair before hand.

anyway, she was on the English campus with skylar, and you had left your key at your shared apartment. well, forgot, but that’s besides the point. skylar was staying over after the party aswell. skylar was your other best friend- she was petite, with shoulder length ginger hair that always made you jealous. what you didn’t understand was why she always stood down every guy that came up to her- which was a fair few. you and Margot always thought it may have been because she had a secret guy, but then she always spent her time with you and Margot. you didn’t really think much of it though as you saw her checking out most people that passed her. maybe she was secretly a virgin? pfffttt as if. you kept your thoughts to yourself as you made you way out of the science campus and towards the parked Ford with two girls blasting a familiar song wh I hcohld he heard through the closed doors and windows. You laughed to yourself as you saw them screaming the words to each other. thank god you couldn’t hear them though, else your eardrums may have even burst.

‘So,’ you started when you opened the car door, which scared the hell out of the other two. ‘You ready to drink ‘till we pass out, hurl up our guts all before we have another great night with possibly another great-‘. ‘Before you say dick,’ Margot cut in ‘I just want to say that tonight is about hanging with my girls for the night. I won’t have a guy to stay over.’ Skylar looked at her like she had gone mad and I spoke for her. ‘ okay well I was going to say ‘hangover’, not dick, but okay hunny you keep thinking that.’ ‘ I was gonna say, there’s no way you won’t be with a lad tonight.’ I laughed at skylar knowing she was probably right. ‘Im trying okay guys, don’t sound so suprised, im not Barney Stinson for Christ sake. It’s not like i sleep with a new person everyday. It’s more like a week. Maybe longer.’ she pouted with her cute face, but I knew she was right. we just enjoyed teasing her. ‘Yeah, yeah, we know. and what’s wrong with Barney Stinson?’ I laughed at skylar’s comment and turned up the music as I took the wheel from Margot and began to drive back to the apartment.

When you got back home, you shoved your books on the coffee table to your right and the keys on the hook next to the door. Margot ran with skylar’s hand in hers, straight into the bedroom and flinging open her wardrobe. you gathered that she didn’t have anything to wear, that or she just wanted to steal some of Margot’s clothes- which seemed more likely. Meanwhile, you slipped into your own room, which was smaller but good enough for you. You sent out the usual message to everyone saying the usual time at the usual place. It was kind of boring seeming that either no one answered, a creepy guy would ask you what you would be wearing or someone would ask if they could bring friends. you didn’t mind how many people came, you apartment was pretty big and had an outside balcony and everything. Margot’s parents said that she could have an amazing apartment that they would pay for-with the mass amounts of money they and- as long as she did well with her grades and had at least two friends. The second reason always made you laugh but you helped her keep her grades up, as even if you had a party almost every night, you still managed to keep your grades in place. God knows how, but you helped her out with studying and exams. You didn’t mind. As much as you loved going to parties and getting wasted, you were still a bit of a nerd. Plus you always got a bit of alone time with her and skylar, which you didn’t really get much anymore.

You slouched onto your floor, aimlessly staring into your wardrobe, full of chic skirts, short dresses, and a surprising amount of sweats. You picked out your favourite red leather skirt, but put it back-Probably best for another occasion. you didnt really have anyone to impress, you just loved wearing skimpy clothes. I guess it was because you didn’t have anyone to wear it for so you impressed yourself. God that sounded like you were full of yourself. instead you picked out the typical black short dress, with a cut in the chest, showing a decent amount of clevage as it tucked at your curves perfectly. Picking out a suede pair of black platforms to go with it, you got in and out of the shower within about ten minutes. Slipping on your dress and carrying your shoes in your fingertips by the buckle, you went into Margot’s room to find her in a latex pink skirt and a tight white top that had a slit the whole way down the middle. skylar on the other hand was checking out a tight fitting black dress that came just above the knees- that she pulled up a bit more- and had a v-neck line showing off her huge chest. ‘anyone want to swap boobs with me?’ Skylar asked. ‘Definitely.’ me and Margot said in unison. we laughed and waited for people to arrive.

about an hour and twenty minutes had passed and the apartment had flooded with people already. ‘ I swear this is the worst part of the party’ Margot started. ‘There’s some people here but not quite enough. Ugh finally more lads. okay ladies I’m going to try and find someone decent. Which is probably going to be impossible at this point.’ ‘Wait I thought you said you weren’t going to have a lad staying over tonight?’ Skylar interrogated. ‘ hunny I said a lad to keep for the night. I’ll just ditch him straight after. relax I’ll be back in about thirty.’ You giggled as she walked off, leaving you and skylar standing there at the bar(yes we had a bar, I told you, big apartment, Margot’s parents money). ‘My brother just texted me saying he’s almost here.’ You told skylar. your brother had a very strange interest in friends. Well. ‘Strange’. He was one of the most popular lads in all the college. College isn’t like high school so no one really cared much about popularity, but everyone knew them, everyone knew what they looked like and everyone knew I was related to one of them. just as I was about to ask if skylar was okay the door opened and I sat at the bar, making myself a vodka sort-of-martini. I wasn’t good at making drinks so I put whatever I liked together. just as I was about to walk off, someone grabbed my waist and whispered. ‘You miss me.’ You swung around knowing exactly who it was. ‘Jung Hoseok.’ You paused before answering. ‘Not really it’s been kinda peaceful without you thinking your my parent.’ He let out a dramatic gasp as he put his hand towards his mouth. You laughed at his extra-ness. ‘Awh I missed you too y/n.’ You giggled as he pushed you to sit down on one of the black leather sofas.

‘So how’s life at college for my little sister?’ ‘I don’t know why you put it like that hobi, your in the year above me at the same college.’ There was only a year between you and hoseok and he was your half brother, but you were really close, so you always preferred to not mention that part. He had a different mother to you, yours had died when you were young and you were never close to your dad, but he was the only thing that made you and hoseok related by blood so you had to give him some respect. ‘ look I know we haven’t spoke for long but I’m going to catch up with the lads. Is there anyone else here that I might know?’ You looked at his face as if he was expecting me to say someone he wished for but I told him it was just me, skylar and Margot. He smiled and wandered off back into the crowd, leaving me, my shitty martini and some very good looking, blonde haired guy staring at me from the bar.

He had a soft and light mocha skin colour which sharply carved around his intense jawline. now normally, you didn’t like mullets in the slightest, mainly because they never suited anyone, but his had a dark brown foot- almost black- that instantly changed into a soft blonde. his features took you by surprise, as you completely dived into a stare. You only realised you had been when he slid his once small mouth into a wide grin, making you blush. You kicked yourself under the table for getting so pathetic over some boy, but you suprised yourself more than anything. you had never really felt anything over anyone, no feelings, definitely not love. maybe attraction? but that was probably because they had decent looks and nothing else. most people thought you were cold, even to an extent where no one believes you were capable of love whatsoever. of course that was bullshit, you had skylar and Margot. Of course that was a different type of love but it was still something, right? well obviously you weren’t jumping to conclusions, so you definitely didn’t love the man starting at you. whoever the hell thought of love at first sight was clearly an amateur in friendship as a whole. no of course you didn’t feel love, but his stare made you feel something. probably nothing. anyways who were you kidding? as if anything would happen with you and anyone at all. it’s not that you doubted yourself, you just didn’t know what feelings were to be truthful, you’ve never seen yourself in that situation and you would probably fuck it up by either saying something too bluntly or something that offended them. and for some reason, everything effects everyone. or at least whatever accidentally-or not- comes out of your mouth.

forgetting about that man staring, you looked around for the girls. you saw Margot surrounded by freshmen that someone must’ve invited for their first college party. she didn’t really seem interested in any of them though, which confused you. what confused you more was that you couldn’t spot Skylar anywhere. you sighed as you got up to go and get another drink but, like the clumsy idiot you were, knocked straight into someone. ‘Shit! I’m so sorry-‘ the two of you sort of apologised at the same time before you brought your eyes to one another’s and slowly cut yourself off. ‘really? of-fucking- course it’s you’ you grinned looking up at the tall male. ‘ouch, nice to see you too y/n.’ You giggled. ‘I’m sorry joon. It’s been forever, how are you?’ your question sounded like something a 40 year old woman would say to her neighbors. idiot. why say that to Kim Namjoon of all people. surprisingly he answered. ‘Well I’m at a party, getting seven drinks but not one for you, so apparently not great.’ your face cringed a little making him let out a deep, almost croaky laugh. ‘Smooth, joon, smooth. So you’re all here tonight?’ most of the time, hobi and his friends came to a party with only a few of them, but joon saying seven drinks spiked your interest. you didn’t really know much of the members. you knew your brother obviously, Namjoon and jungkook. and you had heard something about a Jin? oh weren’t sure but his name had popped up a few times from the others. you knew joon because you used to live a few doors away from his. it was the typical boy next door, except there was no romance, just alcohol and the everlasting smell of weed from his dad. you didn’t question it because you liked his dad, everyone did, but that doesn’t mean your dad didn’t give you shit as he thought you were the one smoking it. he knew damn well that it was joons dad, but he has to take his anger out on someone. ‘Yeah actually, shocker I know. you can come over if you want? jungkook is there, along with Jin,jimin and Yoongi. I don’t know where hobi is and tae is proabably with some girl. jungkook isn’t really paying attention and Yoongi is probably high as fuck so it’ll basically be me you and jin.’ ‘And jimin.’ You added. whoever he was. ‘Oh yeah and jimin.’ You shook your head and laughed. ‘Alright. Gotta be better than standing in the middle of the place doing fuck all.’

you followed Namjoon through a trail of people grinding against each other over the music and mass amount of alcohol. you grinned knowing Namjoon was probably blushing as someone short with short brown hair had accidentally fell into his torso. exactly his type. you continued shoving your way through the crowd until you finally had room to breathe. around one of your sets of sofas were a few lads all doing something different. one of them, you couldn’t see much hung his head down, his dark crumpled hair hung over his face. probably asleep. or passed out. the one next to him had puffy cheeks which at first you thought might’ve been from crying, but you realised he just had large cheeks. he had small lips in the shape of a pout with soft, fluffy orange hair either slicked back of hanging down. he was kinda hot, but he looked too cute. opposite him say a tall male with blonde hair styled into a quiff going to the right, but here didn’t seem to be any product in it, which was impressive. he had deep brown eyes that were staring in disgust at the man sleeping but he looked as if he was worried more than anything. He had small puffed lips and his shoulders broadened wildly in the white silk top he wore. ‘Namjoon finally.’ The one with blonde hair grinned widely with a beautiful smile that made you automatically smile aswell. before joon could go and sit with him you grasped his arm and whispered in his ear. ‘okay do me a favour? don’t tell them I’m hobis sister will you?’ It’s not that you were ashamed of it, it’s just you knew hobi didn’t like letting you near his friends for some unknown reason. you’d probably end up sleeping with one of them. dammit that’s probably why. Namjoon nodded giving you his promise and went to go sit down next to the smiling male.

‘Jin this is y/n. Y/n this is Jin and the one with ginger hair in jimin. that one sleeping is- ah never mind he won’t wake up in time for you to say hello.’ ‘Hi y/n, welcome to the most depressing corner of the room.’ You laughed at his introduction which made him smile. jimin rolled his eyes. ‘God Jin your such an attention seeker. Always making jokes just so people will laugh. fun fact, they’ll only laugh if they’re actually funny.’ you raised your eyebrows smirking at his cockiness towards the other who was clearly older. ‘Please jimin, you cannot say anything at all. You literally shove your face in others just if they mention a word that you think describes you. For example, cute. Your rent cute, your the devils spawn.’ jimin laughed as if he knew Jin was half right, as he turned and winked at you. ‘So my princess, how do you know our joon?’ You almost blushed when he called you princess but used it as an advantage instead. ‘Well first of all I’m definitely not your princess. If anything you’d be more mine,and I used to live a few doors down from him.’ Jin let out the most beautiful and funny laugh you’d ever heard. Ever. jimin blushed proving your point but chuckled. ‘Oh is that right?’ He gave you a grin which you definitely knew wasnt innocent. ‘A few doors down huh? so you knew hobi aswell.’ You froze a little hoping that this wouldn’t mean they’re mention you to him. ‘uh, only a little. I mean I saw him and smiled but I didn’t really know him. Just that he was friends with joon.’ ‘Ahhhhhh, wait we’re you that girlfriend he always tries to prove he had?’ Jimin questioned which made joon choke and spit out his a drink a bit making you laugh. ‘nope, never dated just went round his house a little.’ You ended with a wink which you’d hoped make him even more embarrassed. You were right. his cheeks were now bright red and you were pretty sure it wasn’t from chocking in his drink. jimin laughed and raised his eyebrows as he patted Namjoon on the back a little too hard. he began to splutter his drink again. ‘Get in joon! you scored a girl good enough looking as her? damn I underestimated you.’ He laughed but took a sip of his drink as if he was jealous. You laughed and shook your head.

‘I’m kidding, we never actually did anything with joon, we were simply friends and that’s it. Nothing more to it.’ You assures jimin which now looked disappointed. ‘And anyway, joon can score. He always ended up doing something to confuse one of my friends into either sleeping with him or sucking him off.’ Your bluntness suprised Jin and jimin. you knew you always gave off an innocent vibe but you always enjoyed the shocking look everyone gave you when you mentioned something that completely went against that. ‘so joon, what made everyone think you lost your ‘game’?’ ‘I got a girl.’ His response shocked you. you didn’t know whether it was because it wa substantial or because he had actually said that out load or because he’s actually got a girl. ‘damn someone’s changed. who and how long?’ He smiled knowing you were raked aback. ‘Her name I cannot say else one of these will hunt and track her down in hopes of telling her that I’m something I’m not. But we’ve been dating for a year and a half now and she’s short, short brown hair, really smart and has a full British accent. Oh and she’s really smart. like really smart.’ And instant image of the girl who fell into him reminded you of her. ‘Yeah I pretty sure you said she was really smart about three times there.’ Jin snorted into his drink and jimin whispered ‘whipppppedddd’ before going back to his. you all laughed as joon shook his head in disbelief. ‘What’s so funny?’

you looked up to where the deep voice had come from. standing above you was the blonde haired man you had caught staring at you. before he laughed at you staring at him. shit. ‘Over how whipped-‘ ‘TAE! Finally dude I thought you had been chased down by some girl you had left or something.’ jimin gleamed up at Tae as Jin gave jimin a dirty look from cutting into his sentence. ‘no but I didn’t spot a hot lass from across the bar. I was staring but I caught her staring back. she was cute.’ he gave you a look after he had finished his description of you. he made you blush slightly again. Are you kidding me? ‘And who’s this one?’ he looked at you with a teasing smirk. wonderful. ‘Y/n. I take it your tae from the way jimin gleaned yo at you like you were his boyfriend.’ You stated bluntly. Jin burst into hysterics. he laughed head trully beautiful. ‘Thats-the best thing- I’ve heard all night.’ Him managed to say before bursting into laughter again. jimin rolled his eyes as if most people assumed someone else was his boyfriend. ‘Nah that’s jungkook a job.’ tae winked and smiled down at jimin. he was almost a whole foot taller than him. jimin blushed harder. ‘I’m kidding, jimin is just easily attached, he likes to stay close to his friends.’ this clearly eased jimin. ‘Thank you. god...’ you smiled apologetically at him, which he responded back with a bigger smile. ‘So who was this girl you were staring at earlier? Must’ve been decent if it was you staring.’ Tae went on to talk about you for a short while but changed the subject back to you talking about yourself. You groaned a bit. You enjoyed listening to his voice. It was deep, raspy and it seems like it was breaking but in a good way. If that makes sense? but his lips were thin but not thin at the same time, his grin wide and his eues were the perfect shade of brown as the liked deeply in yours before he spoke again. ‘so lass-‘ but tae was cut off talking about you when a hand came down onto his shoulder. you hadn’t realised there was anyone behind him, probably too caught up in his looks to pay attention. you gulped silently when you saw your one and only brother death glaring between you and tae. ‘So...explain.’

AUTHOR NOTE:so first I want to apologise for taking so long to actually do something again on the blog, this is what I guess you can call my resurrection? god that’s cheesy. But I’ve took some time off tumblr and I’m back again and I’m not sure how many parts this will be, but I’m really enjoying writing again. I hope you enjoy it and I’m sorry again for being away for so long, right after I teased you with a new story :/ anyways hope you enjoy, I will definitely continue with this :)))- anon suga 💤

[thegreatwhiteferret]

When The Tin Roof Gets To Talkin’

Summary: Mike and Stan get caught in a rainstorm and take shelter in the barn, Stan is more than happy to ride out the storm with Mike.

Pairing: Mike X Stan (Stanlon)

Rating: Explicit

A/N: This was a request from the wonderful billbenbev who wanted some serious Stanlon smut. Here you are darling, some filthy filthy smut where Stan and Mike get it on in a barn to the sound of raindrops on the tin roof. Hopefully this is kind of what you were looking for. I hope you enjoy it!!! Thank you for your kind words and request, I love you dearly and I hope that you love this! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

NSFW Under the Cut...

Stanley Uris was not what people would picture as the stereotypical farm boy. He didn’t have bulging muscles, a twang in his voice, and he most certainly did not wear cowboy boots. He didn’t meet any of those requirements, but Stan was completely comfortable admitting that he was, in fact, a farm boy.

-

Back in May, Stan had asked Mike if there was anything that he could do to help out on the Hanlon farm over the summer. Their junior year of high school had proved to be difficult on Stan’s mental health. He found himself far more stressed out, his compulsions and obsessive thoughts were getting worse, and he was having more and more debilitating panic attacks. He wanted to get away, to find something else to focus on, something where he could devote his attention to completing the tasks of a routine.

He had gotten the idea to ask Mike if he needed help on the farm after the whole Losers club had gone out one weekend for a boozy sleepover party. He had gotten up with Mike to help him tend to his morning chores, while the others all slept off their hangovers. Mike had a mental checklist, and everytime that they completed an item off of if, he would give Stan a high five and they would move on to the next step. Stan found the whole process mentally stimulating in the best way possible. He felt fulfilled. When he had gotten back to his house the following afternoon, his mind began racing again, searching for the comfort that he had found at the Hanlon farm with Mike. He knew immediately that he wanted to spend more time there, especially when school let out the following month, so he decided to ask Mike.

“Are you serious, Stan? You want to waste your summer before senior year working on the farm?” Mike asked with uncertainty while he stuck his Algebra Two book back in his locker.

“Yeah. I’m serious.” Stan responded from where he was leaning against the locker next to Mike’s. “I just...the repetition of the routines...I think it could be good, Mikey. It might help, but if you think it’ll be a hassle to have me around…”

“No. That’s not what I meant, Stan.” Mike tried to clarify and backtrack. “I meant that it’s kind of boring and monotonous. Not exactly what I would choose to do, if I had a choice.”

“You know I like routines, Mike. Monotonous is not always a bad thing.” Stan rocked back on his heels, waiting for Mike to finish up at his locker so that they could head to their American history class.

“Okay, sure. I mean, I’ll have to ask my grandpa, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. It won’t completely suck to get to spend some more time with you away from the other Losers and that chaos.” Mike conceded as they moved down the crowded halls, he poked Stan in the ribs with his elbow playfully and shot him one of his mega watt smiles, the kind that could defrost even an ice queen’s heart. It made Stan feel all warm and tingly inside.

“Thanks, Mikey. You’re the best.” He said returning the smile before they both ducked into their classroom and settled in for the lecture.

-

It was now the beginning of August and Stan had been helping out at the Hanlon farm all summer. His daily routines combined with the fresh air had his mind clearer than it had been in years. A sense of calm had settled over him, it was truly amazing.

Most days he and Mike worked together. They’d feed the animals, water the fields and gardens, go through and pick the crops that were ready, and find time to talk about everything and nothing in between. Stan loved every single second of it.

Today they were walking through the rows of corn, checking to see if any of the crops were rotten. Stan could feel the sweat bubbling beneath his collar, the sun beating down on his neck and shoulders. He willed the clouds in the sky to actually provide some coverage. It had been one of the hottest summers in Derry’s history, at least according to the almanac that Mike had found and poured over every detail written on the yellowing pages for weeks. It had hardly rained at all since the beginning of June. The weathermen on TV claimed that they were in for a big storm, but Stan would believe it when it happened. Stan ran his hand along the stalks of his row, everything seemed to be in order.

“How’s it looking, Stanny?” Mike called from a few rows over where he was inspecting his own set of plants. Mike’s voice snapped him out of his daze and he shook his head to clear his mind.

“These are good over here.” Stan called back. “Hey, Mike. Can we take a break for a few minutes?” He asked hopefully. They had been working almost non stop for hours, and the heat was starting to affect him a bit more than he’d like to admit.

“Sure thing, Bud. You read my mind.” Mike said coming into view, another one of his breathtaking smiles on his face. His white t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he used a bandana to wipe off his forehead. “You want to go sit on the Rock? I’ll grab some waters from the cooler.” Stan nodded in agreement.

The Rock had become their secret spot, where they would hang out while they had down time if they felt like being alone. The Rock was this huge boulder that had been on the property long before the Hanlon’s had come to own it. It sat near the far end of the farm, quite a hike from the main barn and the Hanlon house, but the solitude was part of what made it so unique. That and the sheer size of it. No machine that they had ever tried was strong enough to move the Rock, so they decided to leave it. Mike’s grandmother had actually come to embrace the Rock and planted her flower gardens around it. Mike had laid down some stepping stones to make a path through the garden so that people could sit on the large stone. Stan thought it was one of the most beautiful places in the world, a thought that had intensified when Mike had surprised him by building two bird feeders to hang on posts in the garden. Stan could sit and watch the beautiful birds that flocked to those feeders forever, especially if Mike was joining him.

Stan climbed up the rough material and sat down on the flat surface of the Rock, and let his legs hang over the side. The clouds seemed to be rolling in a bit more and provided some much needed relief from the sun. He laid back, closing his eyes and letting the soft breeze float over his body. He was so relaxed that he didn’t even hear Mike approaching, or when he climbed up the rock and plopped next to him.

“Stan?” Mike murmured, trying to judge if he was actually awake. Stan turned his head towards him and his eyes fluttered open. He smiled sweetly up at Mike. “There you are. You want some water?” Stan nodded and lifted himself so that he was leaning back on his elbows. Mike grabbed a bottle from his satchel and unscrewed it, going to hand it over to Stan. He sighed dramatically when he saw the other boy making no move to grab it.

“Will you hold it for me, Mikey? I’m so thirsty.” Stan asked, batting his eyelashes slightly. Mike rolled his eyes, but scooted closer to him so that he could hold the bottle to his lips. He was perfectly capable of holding his own water bottle, they both knew that, but Stan liked when Mike gave in and took care of him, and Mike liked it just as much. Stan took a few gulps, and Mike tried not to stare at the obscene sight of Stan’s adam’s apple bobbing every time that he swallowed. Mike pulled the bottle back from Stan’s lips and took a long swig from it.

“Looks like we might finally be getting some rain. Maybe things will actually cool off to a not so hellish temperature.” Mike mused, staring at the clouds above them. They looked more gray now and were blocking a good deal of the sunlight.

“Hmmm. That would be nice.” Stan replied, watching the way that Mike’s muscles shifted under his shirt as he fidgeted. “Lay down with me, Mike. Relax.” Stan closed his eyes again, a peaceful expression crossing over his features. Mike could never refuse an offer like that and laid down beside Stan, closing his eyes as well.

Mike had no idea how long they had been laying there but he was brought back to reality when a thick drop of water landed on his forehead. He blinked his eyes open and gasped at how dark the sky had gotten. He turned to wake Stan up, but was too late. Stan squawked as a raindrop hit his cheek, then a few more. He jolted upright and Mike wrapped an arm around his waist to make sure he didn’t fall. Just like that the sky seemed to open up, sheets of rain falling.

“Holy shit!” Stan screamed. Mike climbed down carefully off of the Rock and then reached up to help Stan down to the ground.

“Let’s head to the Annex. It’s not that far. We can ride out the storm there.” Mike said, Stan nodded, and Mike took his hand pulling him along with him as he ran as fast as he could through the rain and mud. By the time they made it to their destination they were soaked to the bone. Mike slid the door shut behind them. The Annex was an old barn on the property, they used it to store extra hay and tools. Mike loved it because there was also a loft that was perfect for setting up camp and watching the stars. He was thankful that he had remembered to seal the roof hatch the last time he had come in here.

Stan climbed the ladder carefully. There was barely any light and most of his movements had to be made by touch. Mike was right behind him and they managed to easily make it onto the old platform. Mike quickly found one of the gas lanterns that he kept up there, and a box of matches and lit it. A soft glowing light filled the space, allowing them to see their surroundings. Mike hung the lantern from a hook on a low beam and did the same with a second lantern on the other side of the loft.

Stan felt the need to begin peeling his wet clothes off. The feeling of them getting to be too much for him to stand. He toed out of his sneakers and put them nice and straight by the ladder. They were covered in mud, he did not have hope that they would survive this whole experience. He pulled his wet socks off as well. He was unsure if he should strip out of his jeans and shirt as well. He looked over to Mike for clarification and found him shirtless, having already shucked off his boots and socks, and now he was working on his belt so that he could push the wet fabric of his jeans down his thighs. Stan’s mouth watered at the thought. He needed to get a grip. Mike was his friend, they were just friends.

Stan followed Mike’s lead and pulled his shirt over his head. The motion caused one of his curls to stick to his forehead and he grimaced. He folded his shirt nicely, even though it was wet, and set it next to his socks. His jeans were already tight before they got soaked, Stan liked his clothing to be slim fitted to his body, and now with the water they were damn near impossible to get off. Stan whined as the fabric refused to move over the swell of his ass.

“You okay, Stan?” Mike asked with concern, he stood no more than ten feet away from Stan, clad only in his red plaid boxers. Stan had to keep his eyes from wandering over the muscles of Mike’s shoulders, chest, and abdominals still visibly wet from their trek in the rain. A look of understanding seemed to cross his face as he realized that Stan was struggling to wiggle out of his pants. “Here, let me help. Sit down and I’ll pull them off.” Stan groaned in protest but sat down carefully anyway. He lifted his hips so that Mike would have easier access. Mike started tugging them down from Stan’s ankles. The jeans began moving, but Stan let out a gasp of surprise.

“Wait!” He squealed. Dropping his hips down. Mike looked at him with concern, had he hurt Stan? God, he would never do that on purpose. He would protect Stan with his own life, would risk it all before he let Stan get hurt. “So-sorry. My jeans were stuck to my underwear and they were pulling them down, I uh...I wasn’t trying to put on that type of show for you.” Stan explained cheeks flushing.

“I wouldn’t have minded.” Mike muttered so low that Stan didn’t hear it, he cocked his head to the side wondering what he had said. Mike internally corrected himself. “Sorry, I meant that I shouldn’t have been pulling so hard. Are you situated? Should I continue?” Stan nodded and Mike managed to get the offending garment off without anymore issues. Just like with his other clothes, Stan folded the jeans and stacked them nicely with the rest of his possessions.

Stan listened intently to the pitter patter on the tin roof caused by the flood of raindrops that were hitting it. It made him smile, almost like nature’s own version of a song. He looked around the loft again when something caught his eye. It was a bright red trunk, with gold caps on the edges and fasteners. It looked like something a rockstar would take on tour.

“What’s this, Mike? I don’t remember seeing this here before.” Stan asked. Mike had hosted quite a few hangouts here in the loft. It provided just enough privacy that his grandparents weren’t breathing down his neck, with the comfort and safety of knowing they were nearby if he needed them. In all the times that Stan had been up here, he couldn’t recall ever seeing this trunk.

“Oh. Richie brought it here a few weeks ago. He said there were some supplies in it, for emergencies. Like if anyone needed to get away from their folks for a few days and hideout here. He said that they would be able to survive on whatever is in that trunk.” Mike explained, and Stan’s interest was peaked.

“Any idea what he put in there?” Mike shook his head at Stan, and went back to laying some blankets down on the floor. Stan moved over to the trunk and knelt before it. He unlatched the fasteners and carefully pushed the lid open. He smiled when he took in the contents of the box, it was amazing how different he and his best friend’s ideas were about what should be classified as emergency provisions. He pulled out a gallon sized ziploc baggie and a huge bottle and held them up gawking at the contents.

“Lube and condoms?” Stan asked, drawing Mike’s attention to what he was holding. “Are you serious? Good lord, Richie.” He shook his head as he set them back in the trunk.

“Well, you can’t say that he isn’t prepared.” Mike said, and Stan jumped slightly, when had he gotten so close?

“Prepared enough for all of us to fuck throughout an apocalypse.” Stan murmured under his breath and Mike laughed. It made Stan’s insides tingle.

“Mmmm, that doesn’t sound too bad.” Mike said, there was a hint of something in his voice that Stan couldn’t place. Was it arousal? Stan turned to look at him and found Mike raking his eyes over his body, staring at the way the Stan’s ass was on display in his briefs. His eyes widened when he saw that Stan had caught him, but he didn’t look guilty, he looked turned on.  “Stanny…” Mike breathed out. Stan felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Mike. What…?” His question got lost in the air between them when Mike leaned forward and pressed his lips to Stan’s. The initial shock gave way to something else completely. Stan felt his eyes slide closed, and then it was like an explosion of fireworks. He never wanted to do anything for the rest of his life except for kissing Mike. His instincts took over and he pushed Mike so that he was lying on his back and climbed over him to straddle his hips before leaning forward and pulling him into another kiss.

Mike moaned into the kiss, bringing his hands up to rest on Stan’s hips. Stan licked across his lips and Mike opened his mouth to give him access, his grip on stan’s hips tightening. Stan broke the kiss and moaned out at the sensation, sitting up and throwing his head back. Mike stared up at him with lust filled eyes.

“Gahhhh, mmmm, Mike, that feels...good.” Stan gasped, Mike sat up, holding Stan tightly in his lap and pulled him in for another kiss. Stan ground his hips down without even thinking and Mike hissed in response. Stan immediately moved to get off of him, apologies thick on his tongue. “Shit, Mike, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, that felt so good. Oh my God.” Mike rushed out and Stan blushed, he tried to lower his head to get away from Mike’s gaze, but Mike was having none of it. He lifted Stan’s chin until he was looking right into his eyes. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Stan. You have no idea what you do to me. Watching you all summer….damn.”

“Fuck, Mikey.” Stan moaned breathless. “How do you think I feel, watching sweat drop down those fucking amazing muscles everyday? And your hands, your fucking hands. I want them all over me.”

“Yeah?” Mike asked, a smirk crossing his face that had Stan squirming in his lap. “Where do you want my hands, Baby?”

“Mike, don’t tease me. Don’t make me say it just so you can laugh and leave.” Stan said, doubt setting into his voice. This was all too much, he couldn’t believe that he had let himself let go so much.

“Stanley. I’m not teasing. I want you so bad, have for a long time. Just tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen. Anything to make you feel good.” Mike said truthfully, one of his beautiful smiles stretching across his face, and Stan swooned. He licked his lips as he looked Mike in the eye. “Jesus, Stan. You and that tongue, that mouth. It’ll be the death of me.” Stan groaned, and he knew exactly what he wanted from Mike.

“Hey, Mikey?” Stan asked, rolling his hips down slightly in Mike’s lap, Mike groaned and nodded at Stan. “I really really want to blow you.”

“Fuck, yes.” Mike groaned, and Stan moved off of him, letting him get into a more comfortable position. Mike laid back down on the blankets he had laid out before, and propped his head up with a pillow, he slipped his boxers down over his hips and kicked them off to the side. He spread his legs, getting ready for Stan to take his place between them.

Stan gasped at the unbelievably gorgeous sight in front of him. Mike’s muscles were all on display, a deep v forming on his lower abdomen that acted like a welcome sign to his crotch. Mike was big, the biggest Stan had ever seen, in real life or in the dirty magazines that Richie had gotten him for his birthday. Not that he had very much experience in real life, just his own, and that one guys he hooked up with at JCC camp last summer,  It was thicker than a beer can and long. God it was long, and he wasn’t even fully hard yet. The sight of Mike’s cock made Stan’s mouth water. He moved forward, settling himself between Mike’s legs. He took a deep breath, nerves starting to kick in, and tried to shake it off and calm down. Mike picked up on his change in demeanor immediately.

“Hey, Stan. No, listen to me, we don’t have to do anything. Not if you’re uncomfortable.” Mike said moving to grab his boxers so that he could slide them back on. Stan grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“I want to, Mike. I just don’t have a whole lot of experience actually doing this, and you’re like really really big.” Stan said honestly and Mike looked back at him with wide eyes, surprised at the words that had just come out of Stan’s mouth. He was usually so prim and proper, that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t a massive flirt, because he was, but usually in more polite terms. “It’s super hot, but a bit intimidating. Just let me ease myself in, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Of course. We can take it as slow as you want.” Mike gulped, and laid back down, giving Stan the space he needed. Stan smiled gratefully at him before licking his hips and moving closer to Mike’s groin again. He tentatively gripped the base of Mike’s cock and stroked upwards, twisting his wrist as he reached the head. Mike groaned underneath him. “S-so-so good, Stanny.” That was all the encouragement he needed, Stan leaned in and licked a flat stripe up the side of Mike’s cock, then took the head in his mouth, sucking on it lightly while his hand kept jerking the rest of his length. He tongued at the slit, moaning at the taste of Mike’s precum on his tongue. He carefully tried to slide his head down Mike’s dick, only managing a few inches before he had to pull up again. Mike was a writhing mess, noises of pleasure escaping his mouth with every move that Stan made. Stan took him even deeper, feeling his eyes water as the head of Mike’s cock touched the very back of his throat. Mike cried out in pleasure at the feeling, the wet heat of Stan’s mouth encompassing him in a way he had never felt before. Stan held his place there as long as he could before pulling back for a deep breath, his little gasps of air hit Mike’s sensitive flesh and he was so close that if Stan didn’t pull away he was pretty sure that he would come from just the ghosting of his breath. He sat up before Stan could move his mouth back. “Baby, I’m gonna cum if we don’t stop, you’re so good.” He leaned forward and pulled Stan into a sloppy kiss. He moaned at the taste of his own pre cum on Stan’s tongue.

Stan was painfully hard in his briefs, his neglected cock desperate for some attention. He rocked his hips forward and moaned at the resulting friction when his cock rubbed against Mike’s muscular thigh. Mike grabbed Stan by the hips preventing him from repeating the action and Stan whined. Riding Mike’s thigh seemed like such a good idea, and he was being denied that very thing.

“It’s your turn, Baby. Are you going to let me take care of you?” Mike asked, digging his thumbs into Stan’s hips with a bit more pressure leaving the other boy almost crying out in pleasure. Stan nodded frantically, he wanted to be taken care of, needed some assistance. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me, Stanny?” Stan groaned again, pulling Mike in for a quick kiss before getting into position. He stuck his still clothed ass out for Mike, putting it on display. Mike hooked his fingers in the band of Stan’s briefs and pulled the elastic down past his milky white globes and freeing his cock in the process. Stan cried out in relief when his dick bounced up against his stomach, finally being freed from the restraints of his underwear. Mike grabbed his ass cheeks in his hands, spreading them and revealing Stan’s tight and pink puckered hole. He wasn’t surprised to see that Stan was completely hairless down there. He was so particular about his appearance and cleanliness in everyway, Mike would expect nothing less of the boy than to remove all the hair until he was completely smooth. Mike couldn’t help himself, he wanted a taste, and leaned forward his breath ghosting over Stan’s hole.

“No!” Stan gawked suddenly, lurching forward. Mike drew back quickly, wondering what he had done wrong. Stan hung his head in shame. “It’s not clean, Mike. I haven’t showered since this morning, it’s gross. I don’t want you to...it’s dirty.” Stan explained quietly. Mike could barely hear him over the drops of rain on the tin roof of the barn.

“I don’t care about that, Stan. I want to make you feel good.” Mike responded, but Stan made another noise of protest. Mike understood and appreciated Stan’s concerns. He looked towards Richie’s trunk of wonders and something caught his eye. He leaned away from Stan and grabbed the package. Stan was kneeling and watching his every move. “Would it make you feel better if you used these to clean yourself up?” Mike asked hopefully, holding up a pack of baby wipes. Stan nodded and Mike handed them over. Stan turned so that his backside was facing away from Mike and used the wipes to clean himself up the best that he could. When he was satisfied he handed the package back to Mike and tossed the used wipes to the side. “Feel better?” Mike asked.

“Yes. Thank you for understanding, and not calling me a freak.” Stan said, and Mike gave him a reassuring smile. Stan took the opportunity to pull his briefs off all the way before getting back into position for Mike. Mike grabbed his ass cheeks and separated them, a little rougher than the first time, and Stan moaned out at the feeling. Mike let his tongue gently trace Stan’s entrance, flicking it against the fluttering muscle, letting it catch the rim ever so slightly and gently tugging. “Mmmmm, fuck.” Stan cried out at the feeling. It was overwhelming. Mike licked a thick stripe from his sack and all the way up his crack, teasing the sensitive flesh. He let his thumb rub teasingly over the hole while his mouth focused on pleasuring Stan’s balls. He licked at his sack, feeling his balls tremble from the stimulation. Stan could feel tears rolling down his face from all the sensations. It was all so good. Mike’s tongue made its way back to Stan’s hole and poked experimentally at the rim. With a little more force, Mike managed to work the tip of his tongue into the hole, and began fucking it in and out softly. Stan writhed in pleasure, begging for more, and Mike upped his speed.

“Does that feel good, Stan?” He asked pulling away slightly to catch his breath, Stan moaned out in response. “You think you’re ready to take my fingers, Baby?”

“Gah, fuck yes, Mikey. Stretch me open so I can take your fat cock.” Mike chuckled at Stan’s downright pornographic words, all sense of shame gone with the current amount of pleasure and lust that he was feeling. Mike grabbed the bottle of lube that Stan had abandoned earlier, and squeezed some of the liquid over his fingers. He coated four, knowing that Stan was going to need some extra prep to take him all the way in. He rubbed his index finger around Stan’s hole. “Mmmm. stick it in, Mikey. I can take it. Been thinking about those fingers inside of me all summer.” Mike groaned and pushed his first finger in to the knuckle. Stan tried to buck back on his finger, but Mike held his hip still, letting him get used to the size. When Stan was whining and wiggling around, Mike finally took mercy on him and began to thrust his finger in and out. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes, keep going.” Stan cheered him on.

When he was sure that Stan could handle it he added another finger. The stretch caused Stan to let out another long whine at the sensation, Mike rubbed his fingers along the inside of Stan before he crooked his fingers quickly, hitting Stan’s spot dead on.

“Ahhhhh. Yes. Mike, so good.” He heard Stan sob out and repeated the motion. He began thrusting his two fingers in and out at a steady pace, stretching and scissoring them apart inside of Stan’s wet heat. “Another Mike, come on, I want to feel your cock. Taking so long.” Stan complained. Mike couldn’t deny him what he wanted and on the next thrust he added his third finger, twisting his wrist, giving Stan no time to adjust before he was back to the rhythm of thrusting that he had been using before. “Mmmmm, fill me up so good, Mikey. So good. Do you have another for me? I can take it…” Mike cut him off by thrusting his four fingers deep inside, fucking the words right out of him. He crooked his fingers again, massaging Stan’s spot over and over again, Stan saw stars, he could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, he was going to cum, hard and fast, but then Mike’s fingers were gone. Stan whined out, frustrated at the loss. The he heard the sound of the condom wrapper being torn open.

“How do you want me, Stanley?” Mike asked as he slid the condom down his shaft, groaning at the feeling of his own hand, and then poured a generous amount of lube on for good measure. Stan took no time at all to think it over.

“M-Mike, I want to ride you.” Stan confessed looking at Mike with his desperate lust blown eyes. Mike groaned and quickly moved over to the blankets, he laid down and propped himself up on his elbows, like Stan had done earlier when he made him hold his bottle to his lips for him. Stan gingerly moved to straddle Mike’s hips. Mike lifted himself up to press another kiss to Stan’s lips. The kiss helped to calm Stan down and he reached behind him to hold Mike’s dick in place and lifted himself up. He took a deep breath as he let the head of Mike’s cock breach his tight ring of muscles and slowly let himself sink down. Inch by inch he felt himself stretching around Mike’s thick length, it was almost too much, but Stan wanted this so bad. He let out a choked sound when his ass finally met Mike’s hips. His eyes screwed shut at the feeling and he stayed as still as he possibly could, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would cause shooting pain.

“So good, Baby. Take your time, you feel so good.” Mike soothed, trying to calm himself down as well. Stan felt so good, his tight heat wrapping around his cock was overwhelming, Mike had to fight his every instinct to prevent himself from drilling up into Stan and hurting him. After a few moments, Stan took a deep breath and slowly lifted himself up and dropped himself back down just as slowly.

“Ohhh.” He let out, the pain was starting to turn to pleasure. He repeated the action again, a little smoother this time. Mike moaned from underneath him, the movement felt so good. Stan began to set a steady rhythm, still a bit cautious, but quickly loosening up. “Ahh, God, Mike. You fill me up so good. Ahhh, uhhh.” he started rocking faster and faster, chasing the warm sensation that was coiling in his stomach. He felt his dick bouncing up and down against his stomach with every movement, the sensation was driving him wild, while he felt Mike diving deeper and deeper into him. “FUCK!” He screamed when Mike drilled his hips up and hit his prostate dead on. Mike smiled in victory and repeated the motion, drilling his hips up into Stan every time he thrusted down, hitting his prostate. Stan was overcome with pleasure, he felt like he was going to blackout everytime that Mike hit that spot inside of him, like there were actual fireworks inside of his body that were about to go off.

Mike sensed how close Stan was from his frantic and erratic movements. His thrusts were getting sloppy. His hands rested on Mike’s chest, needing the support to stay upright. Mike leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Stan’s mouth, breaking away when Stan’s jaw dropped open from the feeling of Mike sliding even deeper inside of him than he thought was possible. Mike snaked his hand between the two of them and got a grip on Stan’s dick. Stan cried out at the feeling. Overwhelmed with all of the stimulation. Mike pumped his hand a few more times, he knew that Stan was holding back.

“Come on, Stanny, can you cum for me?” Stan groaned his pace growing more erratic. “Come on, be a good boy for me. Cum for me.” That was all it took, Stan was cumming with a scream, shooting his load all over Mike’s chest and hand. Stan started contracting around Mike’s cock, spent hole trying to tighten up, and Mike groaned out in pleasure. He thrusted up once, twice, and then was holding Stan’s hips tightly and stilling his own as he spilled his load in the condom, buried deep inside Stan. He had never cum so hard in his life. “Holy fuck.”

“Uhm Mikey?” Stan started wiggling around uncomfortably, and Mike released his grip on Stan’s hips, allowing him to gently pull off. Stan groaned as he felt his hole fluttering, desperate to close but being unable to since it was stretched past its limits by Mike’s fat cock. He was going to be feeling it for days. He leaned over to grab the pack of wipes again while Mike carefully removed the condom. “Can I?” Stan asked when he returned and Mike nodded. Stan cleaned Mike up before tossing the wipe to the side and laying down next to him, Mike pulled a spare blanket over them. They laid there silently for a few minutes, Stan snuggled further into Mike’s side, and Mike placed kisses on top of his curls. They were so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t noticed that the rain had started to let up.

“Hmmm, sounds like the rain has almost stopped.” Mike observed, running his fingers through Stan’s hair soothingly.

“Mmmm, don’t care, I’m not letting you go anywhere. Rain or not.” Stan mumbled sleepily. Mike chuckled in response.

“As you wish, Stanny.” He said sweetly. Stan felt a smile spread across his face, Mike was the absolute best. “You know that we are going to have to talk about this later, right? Decide what it means and all. How this changes things...if it changes anything.” Stan rolled on top of him and looked him in the eyes.

“I love you, Mike. I have for a long time. That kind heart of yours got to me.” Stan confessed, his heart beating faster in his chest as he waited for Mike’s reaction.

“I’m glad you said that,” Mike said, a smile spreading across his face, the type of smile that Stan lived for. “I’ve felt the same way about you for a long time too. I love you, Stanley.” Stan smiled back at him and leaned in for another kiss.

“There, we talked, now we sleep.” Mike chuckled at that, knowing better than to protest and keep Stan away from his rest. They settled back down and fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Mike had never been more grateful for a rainstorm in his whole life.

[itispossibleihaveissues]

Another Perfect Catastrophe -8

AUTHOR: Mikimoo PAIRING: JayDick RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Non Consensual drug use, Non Consensual touching, Non Consensual kissing, humour, slight mayhem

SUMMARY: Dick goes undercover as himself in order to catch a gang of international thieves. Jason reluctantly tags along as his long suffering bodyguard. During the ensuing mayhem they get to know each other again and build a few bridges.

Thank you to burkesl17 for the beta!

Notes: An embarrassingly long time ago, the amazing and very, very talented Pentapus invited me to do a reverse bang style exchange, and drew me an amazing prompt. I have no idea how this story was the one that emerged from the many options I had, but such is the creative process I guess! Anyhoo, many thanks to Pentapus for both encouragement and patience, and of course the incredible art! (which will be included at the end of the appropriate chapter)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 4 5 6 7

GO HERE FOR THE AMAZING ART BY THE AWESOME PENTAPUS!

When Jason next woke, Dick was staring at him from inches away.

“Oh my God, Jason. I'm so sorry!” he said. He was flushed, at first Jason thought he was sick or upset but as he blinked the sleep away he recognised the expression on his face: Acute embarrassment.

“Why, what ya do?” Jason asked, his voice still croaky from slumber.

“I'm not entirely sure, but I’m fairly sure I remember molesting you at some point. It's not super clear.” Dick squinted and scrunched up his nose, trying to force his memory to work through the effects of the drugs.

Jason could only remember snatches of his own experience, strange sense memory of being in the water, and of heat and cold sending shivers over his skin. “Yeah?” he asked, “I was off my face, don't really remember much.”

“I started to come down from it in the water, I guess I got dosed before you so it wore off quicker. So I remember bits of it. I think I was trying to do a recall when we hit land, but got stuck on the part where I was molesting you and wanting to...” he cut himself off. “Well anyway, I remember bits, but it's fuzzy. First thing I recall after telling you to put your jacket on and you having a sulk...”

“Hey!”

“...was being in the sea and um, making out with you, I think.” He looked so embarrassed and guilty, it was ridiculously charming. Jason felt he needed to actually remember what happened, because not remembering making out with Dick was so deeply unfair.

But he couldn't. Nothing much past snapping Garners neck and running... somewhere. Then it was just flashes of being in the water.

“Anyway,” Dick said, sitting up against the headboard. “Sorry about that, even if you don't remember, it was still out of order.”

“Forget it, we were on drugs. For all we know it might have been me who started it.”

“I doubt that.”

Why? Jason wanted desperately to ask, but held back. Now probably wasn't the time to act like a dumb teenager with a crush.

“So,” Dick continued. “What now? Tim sorted things for us?”

“Yeah.” Jason gave him a rundown of events as he knew them, leaving out Dick being molested by Garner and the bastard’s death at Jason's hands. Why borrow trouble, after all?

“So, we're in the clear?” Dick rubbed at his bruised face. “Kind of anticlimactic not being able to wrap it up ourselves.”

“I'm just happy it’s done. I don't want to see their stupid faces again. This whole thing was an embarrassment and a fucking ridiculous ordeal.”

Dick smirked. “Agreed.”

“So, the question remains, what now?”

“We wait for Tim to sort out our documents I guess.” Dick looked at Jason, a small smile tugging at his mouth – and Jason had a sudden flash of memory – the heat of his skin and pulling at that plump lower lip with his teeth. Huh, so they did make out. Or at least his brain seemed to think so.

He was so busy trying to dredge up more hot images he didn't even flinch when Dick reached out to his hair and tugged on it.

“Your hair is amazing this morning, Jay,” he said, some sort of barely restrained glee in his voice.

Seeing as this statement was coming from someone whose own hair was sticking up into a giant quiff of sea salt and tangles, that did not bode well. Jason reached a hand up to find his own unruly mop had become big, slightly crunchy feeling curls. The copious amounts of product he used in it to restrain it had stood no chance against the sea. He hoped Tim had sent hair gel as well as some pants. He wouldn't though, because he was a bastard.

“Shower for me, I think.” He heaved himself up out of the bed. His t-shirt and shorts had that same, sandy, salty feel to them, like they were slightly crusted to his skin. He stripped his shirt off and half the beach fell out as he tossed it on the chair. As he moved towards to bathroom, he could swear he could feel Dick's eyes on his back.

 His hair had looked as bad as it had felt, and it took Jason an annoyingly long time to deal with it. Luckily, while he had been trying to restore order to himself in the bathroom, Dick had been busy. He had called down to reception and ordered fresh coffee and some sandwiches to tide them over until dinner. Thankfully Tim had also put his superior online shopping skills to good use and ordered them essentials like toothbrushes and clothes. No hair products though. 

Brushing his teeth was wonderful, but not as wonderful as the sandwiches, Jason couldn't even remember the last time had eaten, he had missed dinner last night before and before that it had just been a couple of candy bars in the car on the way up. And now he was mostly recovered from his hangover he was ravenous, and he wolfed down four sandwiches, hardly even bothering to chew.

 Dick came out of the bathroom with his hair dripping water down his bare chest, Jason tried to tear his gaze away but somehow it got caught on the scar that ran through his nipple. He stared, then scowled when he remembered Garner's fingers tracing the path of the blade.

“Um, Jason?” Dick looked bemused, one eyebrow raised into his damp hair. “Are you okay?”

Jason tugged his eyes up and felt himself flush slightly. “Yeah, why shouldn't I be?” he said defensively.

“Because you were looking at me like you wanted to eat me, and then a second later like you wanted to murder me and bury me under the floor,” Dick said, annoyingly direct.

“I was just looking at that scar.” He pointed. “How'd you get it?”

Dick didn't look at all convinced but he hopped back on the bed, pushing himself up to the headboard and dripping on the pillows. “Gang-banger got me with a kitchen knife.”

“Your suit is thin enough that a kitchen knife will slice through it? Priorities, Dick.” 

Dick laughed. “Nah, it was a day job thing. My uniform is hardly knife proof.”

Jason grunted, irrationally angry at Dick being hurt in such a dumb-ass, preventable way.

“You're making the same face Bruce makes every time he remembers I'm a cop. It's not a great look on you, I gotta say.”

“I just think you getting stabbed to death for the sake of the illustrious Bludhaven police force is fucking stupid.”

“I'm not going to get stabbed to death, Jason. I'm perfectly capable of doing my job.”

“Yeah, but it’s a shitty job and doing it well might still get you killed.”

“I'm not a fan of this weird protective, judgey crap you've got going on – I liked it better when you were looking at me like I was a tasty snack.” Dick looked momentarily pained, and made another of those guilty faces. “Sorry, that was inappropriate. Again.”

“I don't mind,” Jason admitted, he kind of liked the possibilities this conversation seemed to be opening up.

“You don't mind inappropriate flirting?”

Jason shrugged, “I'm enjoying all the traumatized expressions you're making.”

Dick made another face at him, and Jason smothered a smile. “You weren't making them before, when we were practically humping for the cameras,” he said.

“That was work.”

“And the drugged up times weren't? Because they kind of were, in a way.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s different. Now it's kind of stuck in my mind.”

“Was it hot? Because I don't remember,” Jason lied. “Seems a shame that only one of us recalls it.” As come-on’s went, it wasn't that subtle, but at the same time, it was guarded enough it could be completely ignored without too much damage being done to their tenuous friendship.

Dick gave him a measuring look from beneath his bangs and Jason wondered if he was pushing his luck. Dick seemed pensive, but at the same time he could have easily laughed it off or shot Jason down. And he hadn't.

“It was pretty hot,” he said at last. “At least I think it was, it's a bit fuzzy. It seems a shame not to remember properly.”

And that was all the permission Jason needed. It was all very well beating around the bush, but that was valuable time wasted that could be better spent making out. So he leaned forward, grabbed Dick by the ear and pulled him in for a kiss.

Once the first move had been made, Dick didn't waste any more time and after the first press of lips his tongue was suddenly in Jason's mouth and his hands were clutching at Jason's shoulders, trying to push him down, trying to dominate. So Jason rolled them, pinning Dick beneath him without stopping the kiss. He felt Dick's lips curve up into a grin and then he was on his back in turn. And then it was on.

Because they were two of the most stubborn and competitive people ever, they stopped kissing in favour of wrestling, Jason had size and strength on his side, but Dick was flexible and ruthless. He cheated too; when Jason finally pinned him, Dick wiggled and squirmed grinding his body up into Jason's until he couldn't even see straight any more, then when he loosened his grip to chase the amazing friction, Dick worked an arm loose, stuck his fingers into Jason's ribs and tickled him. Jason shrieked in a way he would deny forever and fell off the bed, taking Dick down with him.

Dick landed on top of him again, but was overcome by breathless giggling.

“Dammit, Jay, I don't have the energy for this!” he said, panting like he had been fighting a horde of angry goons instead of being a dirty cheater.

Jason had to agree about the lack of energy and momently accepted being flat on his back. He was pretty sure he could still win from this position anyway, he wasn't above a bit of cheating himself. He reached up and smoothed his hands over Dick's lean, muscled back and down to his narrow waist, before edging lower to hold his ass. He couldn't quite reach and Dick shifted helpfully so he could get a better grip, then leaned down for another kiss.

“This is so wrong,” he said, against Jason's lips. He didn't sound worried, he sounded really turned on.

“Don't care.”

“Good.”

Jason grinned and pulled him further down, so they were flush against each other, then wrapped a leg around Dick's waist, lifting his hips to rub against him. He was gratified when Dick moaned, low in his throat.

“I don't suppose Tim sent rubbers in his care package, did he?” Dick asked, hopefully.

“You know he didn't. And I'm not sure it would be a good idea to ask the Hobson’s since we told them we're half brothers.”

“Not sure they entirely believed us, but you're probably right. So fucking's off the table. Want me to suck you?”

Just the words in Dick's mouth made Jason's cock throb in his boxers. “Has anyone ever said no to you making that kind of offer?”

“Haven't made that it often,” Dick said, shifting his hips distractingly.

“Really? How many guys?” Jason asked, it was irrational to feel glad it wasn't many and he knew it was kind of out of order, but the hot jealousy suddenly pooling in his stomach was hard to ignore.

“Just two.”

“Who?”

“None of your damn business, is who,” Dick said, mouthing his way down Jason's chest and tonguing at his nipple.

“Roy? Wally?”

Dick poked him, hard in the stomach. “Ruining the mood, Jay.”

“Sorry, just curious. Can't help picturing it, wanting it to be me,” Jason admitted.

“It can be, I've only been fucked by one guy – you can be the second.”

Jason groaned, grinding up and pulling Dick's face towards him for a kiss. “Only one person’s fucked you?” he asked. Even if they had to wait, he couldn't deny he was seriously turned on by the images their conversation was bringing up.

“Only one guy, couple of girls before that though.”

“They've fucked you?”

“Yeah, it was pretty awesome.”

“God, that's hot.” Jason rolled them over and mouthed at Dick's neck. “Tell me more,” he demanded.

Dick laughed, the sound rumbling against Jason's lips.

“First time was with Kory when I was seventeen. We were celebrating her birthday and I bought her some really tacky underwear.”

“Such a classy boy.”

“I was a horny one, that's for sure. So, when she decided she wanted me to wear them instead, I felt should agree – it was her celebration, after all.”

Jason was too far gone to even pretend to be ashamed by the noise he made at that image. “What colour were the panties?” he asked.

“Lacy purple satin. Anyway, one thing lead to another and I ended up bent over the bed with these panties on while she fucked my brains out with a strap-on.”

“Jesus,” Jason took a moment for that image to sink in before pulled Dick's shorts down and pumped his cock in his hand, spreading precome over the shaft. Dick groaned and wiggled beneath him and Jason struggled to tug his own boxers over his ass so he could rub against him, skin to skin. There was no way they were even going to get to sucking, they were too far gone.

“The best bit,” Dick said breathlessly, moving his hips to meet Jason's. “Was I could feel her breasts pushed against my back as she fucked into me,” Dick's voice was stilted and horse and his skin was flushed with arousal.

Jason sucked at the juncture of his neck and thrust harder against him, his hand working in time. “Keep talking, Dickie,” he muttered.

“She was so strong, she just held me down as she screwed me, and it was hard, I could feel it for days. But she was gentle too, with the things she said. God, it made me feel good.”

“You like rough sex and lots of praise, then? I'll remember that.” Jason shifted pushing down harder with his hips and loving the feeling of Dick's muscles tensing with how close he was.

“I would do pretty much anything to see you in a pair of frilly panties, Jay,” Dick said, his own hand joining Jason's to pump them together. “Red, of course.”

Jason was both a little shocked and a little embarrassed that the image of himself being fucked in the way Dick described was what sent him over the edge into orgasm.

 Dick was sprawled naked on the bed, talking on the phone when Jason came back into the room after a quick clean up in the bathroom. He waved and hung up as Jason hovered awkwardly by the table.

“So, we’re heading back to London by cab,” Dick said. He apparently didn't do post sex awkwardness and was openly leering at Jason's bare chest. “Then we have a room in another hotel for two nights while our papers get sorted, then we can fly home.”

“Two nights? It couldn't be quicker?”

“Well, it could, but I figured a couple of days to hangout before the family gets stuck into our business might be good? And as well as all the sex we are going to have – and I'm really counting on quite a lot of sex - we should have enough time to see some sights and visit a few places without having to be Richard Grayson and 'hunky but moody bodyguard'. I thought it would be fun.” 

“It will be. But ask before you make plans for me, I might have shit to do.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “What shit do you have to do? I just thought it would be nice, that's all.”

Jason flopped down on top of him and kissed away his scowl. “You drive me fucking crazy with your bossy bullshit,” he said. He suspected when they weren't screwing or sleeping they were going to be fighting. May as well get started now.

“I'm not bossy! You're bossy!” Dick was grinning at him, and Jason couldn't help but smile back.

“I foresee a lot of fist fights in our future,” he said

“Or we could just have lots of angry sex?” Dick asked, hopefully.

“Right then, angry sex and sightseeing. I like the way you think. At least, I like it when you're not being bossy.”

“I knew you would see it my way.” Dick smiled like the sun, and ran his fingers through Jason’s hair, undoing all his hard work at flattening it to a manageable level.

Jason mock scowled at him. “I hate you. You're hot, but I hate you.”

“Feelings mutual, Jaybird,” Dick said, smugly.

 End

[redsdesktop]

Conflict: Chapter 11

Whoa, hey there. Look at that. I managed to write a chapter. Sorry if its not fulfilling enough, long night of messing with tape. Did I mention how much I hate tape now? Its peeled off my very soul.  Also this is a sfw chapter. Sort of mentions what happens but in no detail.

----------------------

Splendid woke up feeling like he'd been hit by a bus. No, that wasn't right, because he knew what it felt like to be hit by a bus and this was ten times as worse. He could only assumed this was what it felt like to have a hangover as he slowly pushed himself to sit up... on the floor? Why wasn't he in his bed, he glanced over at the bed, the pastel green sheets were definitely not his. His bed was covered in blues, whites, and reds to match him. It hurt too much to think as he felt an arm slide to curl about his waist, looking down, he first noticed it was Flippy laying beside him on the floor. The second was there was an absolute lack of clothing, making him able to see that both their bodies were littered with bites and scratches, amazed that the omega had actually broken his skin, a feat in itself. Guess he'd never underestimated an omega in heat.

Heat.

That's what happened and he felt himself still as he realized what he'd done. Splendid would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about doing intimate things with Flippy, but he wanted to wait, hell, he hadn't even asked if Flippy would even be his boyfriend yet. He felt terrible that he missed out on the chance to woo Flippy like they did in the romance books he read, he wanted to go out on romantic dates and have their first kiss be something really special. He groaned and dragged his hand over his face, suddenly realizing something was missing. His mask. He never took it off and yet, here he was bare faced for who knows how long. He panicked a little, but then when Flippy's arm tightened around him, he was reminded why it was likely off. It was better that way, to be completely exposed during such intimate moments, a show of complete trust and faith in his omega.

He sighed out and moved to wrap Flippy up in the blanket they had shared, taking a look around to noticed every pillow in the house along with various blankets, towels, and worn clothes were enveloping them, making Splendid go still. He'd never actually been in a nest before and Flippy must have done this while he slept, because all Splendid could remember was things that made his face heat up. He abandoned the plan on moving Flippy to the bed, the nest was a comforting and safe place and he didn't want Flippy waking up out of it. Splendid would like to stay a little longer, but he was starving and the idea of making Flippy breakfast appealed to him. Hopefully it would make up for everything that had happened between them.

While he regretted having done such things with Flippy, it wasn't because he didn't want to, but he had just wanted to wait a little while longer. However, he couldn't take it back and had to move forward and there was no way he'd leave Flippy. Pushing himself up to his feet, he dug around carefully for his jumpsuit, retrieving his phone to check the time. However, it was dead, sighing, he pulled on his boxers and left his jumpsuit in the nest, not wanting to disrupt Flippy's nest too much but he couldn't walk around the house naked either. When he entered the living room, he pulled Flippy's phone charger out of the wall and carried it to the kitchen with him, plugging up his phone to charge while he began breakfast for two.

He pulled on the pink, frilly apron Splendid had bought Flippy as a joke when he had started teaching Flippy how to cook and set to preparing a healthy breakfast. They needed it with how drained Splendid felt, he could only imagine how Flippy was faring. While the cinnamon rolls were in the oven, Splendid picked up his still plugged in phone and turned it on, only to get assaulted by tons of notifications. Most, if not all were from Splendont, a couple were from work. All were about trying to find where he was. He hadn't been gone that long, had he? Glancing up at the date on the phone, he nearly dropped the device. Five days! He'd lost five days of time? It all had blurred together that it had only seemed like one night, possibly a whole day, but five?!

At that moment, his phone chimed his hero theme and he looked down at the screen, seeing it was his brother calling for the millionth time probably. Dreading this conversation, he knew he couldn't postpone it any longer. Answering it, he held it up to his ear. "Hello?" He asked as if he didn't already know who was on the other end, he could almost feel the rage from the other end of the line.

"DON'T YOU HELLO ME. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Splendid flinched back away from the phone, his ears ringing from the shouting from the speaker. He rubbed his ear, ignoring the rest of what Splendont was shouting at him, probably all sorts of things he didn't really care for.It really annoyed him that Splendont though he had a right to worry over him after that last stint he pulled. Though Splendid had kicked his ass so hard he had been likely too far out to track him to Flippy's. He sighed out and reached over to pour himself a mug of coffee as he sort of listened to Splendont rant and rav on the other end of the line. He was just glad he didn't have to deal with his alpha brother in person right about then.

"I've been at Flippy's house." Splendid said as if that excused him for going missing without a trace for five days. Flippy was a solitary omega, living near the woods, out of the town, so it wasn't a surprise Splendont hadn't found him. He was glad for it too, Splendid would've fought his twin seriously for once in order to keep the alpha away from Flippy. It was confusing, to love and hate a man at the same time, but he just wrote it off as being brothers.

"FOR FIVE DAYS?! WHAT WERE YOU DO-" Splendont cut himself off as he seemed to figure it out mid-sentence, there was only one real reason why someone wouldn't leave a house for any extended period of time, especially when an omega was involved.

"You didn't."

"I did." Splendid said, maybe a bit too smug with his words but he couldn't help but to rub it in his twin's face, it was just in his nature. He could almost hear Splendont's teeth grate through the phone, making Splendid smirk a little as he took a sip of his coffee, testing to make sure it wasn't too hot.

"We have a serial killer on the lose and you're off consorting with the number one prime suspect?!" Splendont growled over the phone, a little too much for Splendid's liking and he bared his teeth. Though it was pointless since Splendont couldn't see unless Splendid decided to face time. He didn't exactly look like his model form at the moment, though the idea of flaunting all his bonding marks to his twin did sound appealing. Maybe later.

"Well, what were you doing this entire time, huh, Mr. Anti-Hero?"

"I was looking for you!" He snapped, Splendid knew he'd likely try to throttle Splendid if he could.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, thank you very much."

"Bullshit." The seething tone made Splendid snort in laughter, it was just too good to get under his twin's skin, especially when he could do nothing about it. "I also called your work and let them know you were missing and not just skipping out on work, so your welcome."

"I'll take that concern as an apology for trying to mark me." There was silence over the line, he seemed to have effectively put out the fury that Splendont had by reminding him of the mistake he almost committed. Splendid still didn't want to think about it, he didn't know how it made him feel, not knowing what Splendont's intention had been when he thought to mark Splendid in such a way.At the moment, he had other things to attend to, like taking care of Flippy, knowing it might be a day or two more before he made sure Flippy was recharged and ready to go out again. Luckily Flippy had an emergency stock of protein bars and water bottles, he guessed that was just leftover from his military days or just good planning for an omega.

"Whatever. Hurry up and get back into fighting shape, lucky for you no murders happened while you were gone. But I don't know how long this Silence will last."

"Do you think they got scared and booked it when they saw we were on the case?" Splendid frowned a little, trying to have high hopes that whoever had killed those people had left, he didn't want to think about the danger Flippy could be in. It made Splendid tempted to lock Flippy away inside and they both just hide out here. Maybe in a bunker. with several hundred loc-

"I don't think so, that scent wasn't from someone who would be easily intimidated. It was almost as if they were flaunting their power." Splendont seemed to have cooled off now that they were talking about another topic that required a more level head. "I'll look more into what I can now that I don't have to look for your sorry ass. I'll call you later. And you better pick up." He growled out the threat before handing up, making Splendid frown at his phone.

"So much for a goodbye."

"Who were you talking to?" A voice came from behind him, smooth and warming every inch of Splendid, even though he hadn't heard Flippy's arrival, the sound of his voice eased any surprise. He turned to look over at Flippy, who was wearing only his black boxers. He looked adorable with his sleepy face and yet good enough to eat at the same time. Splendid didn't want to get carried away with his thoughts, so he poured another cup of coffee and pressed it into Flippy's hands. He watched Flippy take small sips, making a 'mm' sound from the warmth.

"Splendont, He was just checking up on me. You know, the over protective brother thing. Now go sit on the couch and I'll bring you breakfast. My treat." His tone was more of a request than a demand and further eased it by leaning over and placing a kiss on Flippy's forehead before taking Flippy's shoulders and turning him around. Though before Flippy could move, Splendid gave him a playful smack on the backside to get a squeak and a glare from Flippy before the veteran retreated to the living room.

It didn't take long for Splendid to prepare a tray of cinnamon rolls slathered in his home made orange icing, along with a glass of orange juice and a few pieces of breakfast sausage, the smell made his stomach rumble in eagerness, but this tray wasn't for him, first he had to make sure Flippy was taken care of before he fixed his own plate. He presented the tray with a dramatic little flourish, pleased with himself with another successful meal made and he couldn't help showing off his amazing culinary skills a little. Or maybe a lot. Flippy's eyes brightened from their tired state, the scent of food waking him up a bit more as he was waiting for the coffee to hit his system. "I'm starving. Are you going to eat?" Flippy looked up with concern, not touching his food yet as he noticed Splendid didn't have a tray.

"Yeah, couldn't carry it all in one go, so dig in while I fix my plate." He leaned over to press a kiss on Flippy's cheek, unable to help himself, he just felt so... happy. Like every stress and worry he'd ever felt had melted away, finally things were going his way. He prepared his own tray of food a bit more quickly, wanting to get back and sit beside Flippy. He felt odd being apart from the omega, which was going to be a problem since he was a super hero and had a job. He'd worry about those details later. Either way, Flippy wasn't optional, everything else was. He finally made his way back to the living room to sit beside Flippy, who seemed to relax as well with him close, so it wasn't completely one-sided it seemed. Flippy paused in his eating, glancing over at Splendid before speaking.

"Are we going to talk about what happened?"

[owlish-peacock36]

Bid Ye Soft Farewell- Ch. 3

Finally! This past week has been hectic, but I hope that you won't have to wait that long for another chapter again! At least for a while. 

A couple of things first. One, I would like to give a shout out to my significant otter for helping me get from point A to point B in this chapter. Just want to brag on him for a second. Also, I've created a fanfic archive page for my fics. You can find it here. I know there isn't very many at the moment, but there will be! Like I've said before, I'm a Tumblr baby, so if there are any issues with it, just let me know! 

Now, on with the show!

Chapter 3: The Storm and the Shadow

With morning came the glowing sun, and a hangover shared by all the men. Jamie himself was squinting in shimmering light, eyes blurred and head heavy. Made even worse by the fact that he had to perform double duty; every man did. And they would still be off schedule, if what Dougal said was to be believed. A week until they reached Port Royal.

           The only man who was seemingly in perfect spirits was Rupert. He could drink a man to his death.

           “Oh, lads! IN AMSTERDAM THERE LIVED A MAID…” He waited for the men to respond in kind, but only a few half-hearted grumbles permeated the air.

           “Mark well what I do say…” The loudest complaint came from Murtagh, who was in no mood for song and horseplay.

           “Shut yer hole!” The disappointment on Rupert’s face was palpable. Angus patted his friend’s shoulder sympathetically, and they both turned back to their work. Jamie was glad for the relative silence. The only sound was the breeze whipping about his ears. It was an unusually strong wind, and it worried Jamie.

           “There’s a storm brewing,” Murtagh murmured to him, as if deciphering his thoughts. “We’d better tell Dougal, or we’ll all blow awa’. Bloody man wouldna know a sunny day if it blinded him…” And with that, he crept away to the captain’s quarters, and Jamie trailed behind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           Jamie and Murtagh entered the captain’s quarters, temporarily blinded by the light coming in from the windows. Dougal was sitting at his desk, facing said windows. His black-clad shoulders were hunched, quill in one hand, his head in the other. The corners of a map were fluttering off the edge of the desk. Murtagh cleared his throat.

           “There’s a storm on the horizon, Dougal. Its best we batten down the hatches.” Dougal rose from his chair, and swiftly spun around to face them.

           Dougal was a handsome man, if what the lassies said could be believed. Tall and imposing, he was the perfect build for a captain. He had no hair on his head, but made up for it with the long, chestnut-colored beard, peppered with gray. His face was weathered from the sun, ruddy and freckled. But perhaps it wasn’t his looks that the women were attracted to, but rather his charm. He could convince a man to kill his own mother, if he wanted. Hell, he convinced Jamie to join this crew.  

           “Shit. Tell Rupert an’ Willy to make sure the cargo is secure. Tell Angus to trim the sails, and tell Duncan to douse the galley. We’ll need all hands on deck fer this…”

           “Aye.” And with that, Murtagh turned to leave, and Jamie made move to follow.

           “Wait, lad.” Jamie tensed. Dougal never spoke to him privately unless he needed something.

           “Yes, Uncle?” Jamie asked carefully. Dougal sauntered next to him, and flung his arm over Jamie’s shoulder. This caused Jamie’s tension to increase tenfold.

           “I’ve something to ask ye.”

           “Yes, Uncle?” Jamie repeated.

           “I’ve heard rumor about a hefty prize, aye? Located near the Southern Cay.”

           “Aye?”

           “Aye. A ship, ken? Wrecked upon the shore. Gold glittering upon the shore…” Dougal sighed, painting this pretty picture.

           “Weel, sounds an easy prize then.” Jamie turned to make his leave, but Dougal stopped him again.

           “Tis not so simple, lad. There are sentries, aye? Dozens of them. Watching over the treasure until a proper ship can come and collect. That’s where want you to come in.”

           “Dougal, I dinna want any part of this scheme. Ye told me once we dropped anchor at Port Royal, ye’d let me free, with my fair share.”

           “Aye, weel, I changed my mind didn’t I?” Dougal said this with annoyance and frustration. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. But just as quickly as the anger came, it went, replaced with arrogance and a deceitful grin. “Besides, you willna get your share until ye do this for me.”

           “Ye’ve said this for years Uncle! ‘Do this, and I’ll give ye yer share. Do that, and ye can go back to Scotland.’ And how much more must I do to please ye!” Jamie’s face was hot, his eyes wild. Dougal had seen this look before. Best to assuage his frustrations now, and deal with the repercussions later, when he wasn’t alone with him. He was a big man, but Jamie was bigger.

           “This is the last time. I promise,” Dougal soothed, giving him his best reassuring smile. In his heart, Jamie didn’t believe him. But he didn’t have much of a choice.

           “What is it?”

           “Scout the place, lad. Take a couple of the men, and see how the place looks,” Dougal said, as if it were the easiest task in the world.

           “If what ye say is true, we’ll be shot on sight! Its suicide!” Jamie didn’t much feel like dying in the near future.

           “Nay. ‘Twill be perfectly safe. Beside, yer a braw fighter. Ye could take the guards down if ye needed. Ye’ll have a few men with ye.”

           “5 men against dozens? Braw fighters or no, it will no end well.” Dougal just shrugged. “And if I refuse?”

           “Ye won’t. For I am yer captain, and I hold yer future in my hands.” It was the plain, God’s honest truth. Dougal knew it. Jamie knew it. And there was nothing he could do about it.

           “Aye.”

           “Good lad.” Dougal clapped Jamie on the shoulder. “Now, get back out there, and get to work. We’ve a storm to prepare for.” Jamie made yet another turn to leave before being stopped by Dougal’s voice. “And tell the men not to leave their orange peels lying around. I’m no their mother, and I’ll no be picking up after them.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

             The storm came upon them slowly and deliberately. The wind began to shriek, crying out to those that would listen.

           “Oi, sounds a bit like your mother last night. Eh, Duncan?” Angus hollered above the howling gusts.

           The dark sky crept quickly upon them, skipping through a day’s worth of sunlight in an hour. Soon, the world was shadowed in an unearthly gray, the clouds lit from behind from the lightning within them.

           The men grew serious, bracing themselves for what was coming their way. A storm was never a happy occasion. Lost crew members. Lost cargo. Lost ship fragments. That was what the crew had to look forward to; they just wondered which one it would be this time. Perhaps all three.

           As the waves grew higher, the men’s brows sank lower, absorbed in the task of keeping the ship afloat. No men would die tonight. Not if any of them had a say in it.

           The booming of thunder echoed the crashing seas. The waves struck the ship. The men tumbled, tripped, fell. Screams and yells fell on deaf ears.

           Fighting a storm was like fighting a man, Jamie thought. The relentless movements of the opponent. The struggle to stay alive. The worry for crew members, and knowing that the worry is futile.

No rest until it’s over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           The hours of laboring finally drew to a close, as the blasts of air calmed to a warm breeze, and the rain danced lightly over their bodies. The sea was still choppy, and jolted the men off their feet on occasion.

           “Least we survived, eh?” Murtagh grumbled to Jamie, as they surveyed the ragged sails.

           “Aye. They’ll get us to Port Royal, though.”

           “Ye never did tell me what Dougal said to ye.”

           “Later, all right?” Jamie didn’t want speak badly of the captain in front of his men.

           “Aye.” Murtagh gave Jamie a knowing look. He knew how the lad felt: disgusted by things he did, wanting out of this ‘trade.’

           “I’ll tell ye this, though. I’ll no be leaving at Port Royal, like I thought.” Murtagh nodded. He expected as much.

           A crash from underneath them broke them out of their conversation. It was a familiar sound. Barrels tumbling and rolling across the wooden boards. Glass breaking. Wood splintering. All from the cargo hold.

           “HELL! Rupert! Did I no tell ye to secure the cargo, ye idiot!” Dougal screeched from somewhere above them on the quarter deck.

           “Aye! I did! Must’ve broke loose!”

           “Weel, you and Jamie go tighten back up! And ye better pray to God that nothing’s broken…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           Jamie led the small party down the creaky steps to the hold, Rupert mumbling curses the whole way.

           “Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuckin’ cargo.” Jamie grinned at Rupert’s colorful language. He had a way with words.

           The smile quickly disappeared, however, when he caught sight of the hold. Not because of the fallen cargo. It was a mess, but could be easily cleaned and reorganized.

           He stopped grinning, because there among the jumbled barrels and crates, was a small shadow picking its way carefully around them.

           A human shadow.

           It stopped in its tracks as it caught sight of him. Frozen, like prey trapped by a predator.  Rupert was the first to move.

           “Jesus Christ!” He yelled, as he jumped over the railing, directly into the hold. The shadow sprang into action then, jumping over barrels to escape Rupert’s sizeable presence.

           “Ach, no ye don’t!” Jamie himself was frozen, watching this cat and mouse game taking place in front of him. Rupert was a strong, capable man. Jamie had seen him take down three men at once. But the shadow was agile, like a large cat, jumping and twisting just out of reach.

           But the hold was small, and there was only so much room to jump and twist. Rupert had the shadow trapped in the far corner, his strength overpowering its agility. Their two shadows became one as he pinned its arms behind its back, and pushed it toward Jamie and the stairs.

           The mess was all but forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           Jamie was in charge of holding the weapons Rupert had removed from the stranger: multiple daggers and pistols, and one long sword. Jamie wondered where the stranger hid it all.

           They stepped into the dull light of late afternoon, the stranger tensed, awaiting its fate. It did not struggle, though.

           Only in the diffused light could Jamie see the stranger for the first time. Wild dark hair, clubbed back and topped with an askew tricorn. Loose breeks and a too-large jacket hid the body, but the face gave it away.

           A face soft and pretty, as only a woman’s can be. Large lips, pressed into a perfect straight line. Eyes, the same color as the setting sun, fringed with black lashes. He noticed a scar, running from the end of her right eyebrow to the prominent cheekbone.

           “Weel, what have we here, Rupert?” Dougal sauntered over to the three of them, a devilish glint in his eye. He noticed the lovely face, too, then.

           “Found this in the hold. Put up a good fight.” Dougal nodded.

           “What’s yer name, lass?” But the woman stared through Dougal, eyes bored and mouth tensed. She would not answer.

           “We found these on her, cap’n,” Rupert interjected. He nodded toward Jamie, and he dropped the weapons at Dougal’s feet. Dougal knelt, and rummaged through them, nodding in appreciation at the well-made weapons. He held the sword up to the light, recognition dawning on his face. He stood, and faced his crew.

           “I’ve heard tales, as ye all have as well,” Dougal began. He spoke strongly and loudly so all men could hear the story about to be told. “Of a woman. A pirate lady. A well-bred English woman, thrust into piracy. Some men say she’s a witch, others a ghost. They say she could kill a man wi’ the edge o’ her sword, and heal him wi’ the other.  She could hypnotize a man to betray his own kin. She’s done it before.” The men were nodding and mumbling. They had heard this one before. “A bonny fighter, quick and nimble. Could disappear in front of yer eyes, only to reappear behind ye. Recognized only because of her sapphire sword. The last thing some men see.” At this, Dougal help up the sword in question, blue light glinting off the hilt. The woman narrowed her eyes, but otherwise, her face didn’t change. Dougal turned to speak to her, but still used his storytelling voice so the men could hear:

           “Welcome aboard The Thistle, La Dame Blanche.”

[klia29]

hehehehe (not mine)

I headcanon that Husk used to turn up in weird places after a night of drinking.