#i can pinpoint the goddamn place by smell. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kiridarling · 4 years ago

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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄

d.kaminari and h.sero | f!reader + corruption + weed/shotguning + praise + threesome + more! minors dni!

— 3.6k words

"I knew I wanted you the second I saw you."

Denki’s addicted to the pre-concert high.

His veins hum with a song that has yet to start, fingers drumming some mixed beat on the body of his electric guitar as he assumes his place on the dark stage. The theater’s dead silent, the room suspended in a titilating anticipation—and the steady rhythm Denki's heart dissapates into chaos when the faint crack of Eijirou's drumsticks bounce off the walls, and the click in his earpiece begins.

Eijirou hits the kick drum once. Twice. Then his hands fly across the set in a flurry, the rolling beat echoing into the packed arena and spurring the crowd to explode, fans flying to their feet to render their vocal cords for the night.

As the other instruments fill the blank space, Denki's hand grips the back of his guitar's neck, on hold for his solo, and by the time the electric blond steps up to the mic, pavlov's theory has already kicked in overdrive.

"Who’s ready to feel good tonight?”

“Dude, I’m on fucking fire!” Denki vibrates, nearly glowing in comparison to his bandmates as they sift through a flurry of fans at a meet and greet. It always seems like Denki and Eijirou are the only ones with energy after a good show—but what can he say? Being on stage lights him up like a live wire.

"You said that last concert, buddy," Hanta snorts, before his a fan ran sacks his attention by shoving a tiara into his hairline.

"And? My point still stan—" Denki cuts himself off with a gasp as a bra slings across his face, followed by a burst of pain when the metal hits him in the cheek. He peels the lacy thing off with an eye on the audience and an eyebrow raised in question, unsure of what to do with the undergarment (other than put it on) until someone screams:

“Sign it!”

Denki shrugs and pops the Sharpie cap with his teeth to sign the crest of both cups before flinging it back into the audience—he can only pray it pinpoints its rightful owner before the meet and greet ends.

Katsuki clicks his tongue (because he hates these events) and as the next round of fans lineup in front of their table, Eijirou stretches like this is a sport, saying, “Guess it’s go-time.”

"Go-time is when we perform," Katsuki grumbles in the seat to Denki’s right. "Go-time is when we're in the studio makin' a goddamn album, not meeting crazy fuckin' fans—no, I’m not gonna marry you, you obsessed fuckin—“

“Oh, you're just salty you're not popular with the ladies~“ Denki gushes, wiggling his eyebrows, and a fan hands him a canvas the size of his upper body. “Un—oh wow, did you make this for me—Unlike me, of course.”

"Okay, pretty boy." Hanta rolls his eyes, before signing a phone case and returning it to an overzealous fan. With a hand covering his mouth, he whispers, “Can you believe this guy? So full of himself, I swear.”

The fan giggles and Hanta meets the blushing cheeks with a satisfied smirk. Denki huffs from the disrespect, crossing both arms over his chest. “Full of myself? It’s not my fault I’m sexy—*an autograph? Of course!"

Katsuki chuckles, scratching under his chin with ink blue fingertips, "Call yourself sexy one more fuckin’ time and I'm projectile vomiti—no, I'm not signing your tits, give me a goddamn paper or somethin—"

"What?” Denki scoffs, chest collapsing with the disbelief that one could make such a lie. “I'm literally the definition of I'm sexy and I kno—"

"Um, excuse me?"

His gesticulations freeze at the passive voice, arms stretched wide and to the sky, and Denki knows he has to look absolutely ridiculous as he blinks down at the next person in-line; who's stood with bambi eyes and such a sweet smile the electric blond thinks it might make him sick.

"I-I'm your biggest fan! Could you—um, please sign this for me?"

She comes alive, shoving a poster into his chest with pink cheeks and shifty irises. Out of all the bras, all the breasts he's been asked to sign today, and here you are, with your pocket-sized poster and your lamb countenance. Denki beams.

"Of course, Sweetness! What's your name?"

"[Y/N]!" you say, giggling, and it's so. Cute. Denki opens the Sharpie and struggles to focus on signing instead of your gorgeous fucking face.

"Anything specific you'd like me to say?"

And he knows there's a rule—there always are when it comes to these things, and it's simple: don't fuck the fans. As tempting as it is, don't invite them back to your hotel room because there are too many uncertainties, and if something leaks to the press that’s possibly career ending, that’s it. So, Denki holds his tongue. For the future of himself and the band.

"Uhm, just write what you want! I...I think I'd like it best if it was authentic and came straight from you, so."

Fuck. Of course she does.

And maybe Denki just can't help it when he leans down to speak, perhaps a little lower, "You want something more authentic, cutie?"

You light up like a kid on Christmas, gasping, "Yes please Mr. Kaminari!"

So eager, too.

"Awe, you can call me Denki if you'd like," he coos, and you nod so quickly he starts to worry about whiplash. "Meet me out back, in the alley behind the venue if you wanna get to know me better. Sound like a deal?”

"O-Okay!" You nod, and when he returns your sign you grip it tight between both hands. "I'll um, see you soon Mr. Kami—I mean, D-Denki!"

You flush from the mix up and bow in apology, and Denki knows he's made the right choice when you light up, indicating you have no idea what he meant at all.

"Row row row your boat, gently down the stream," you hum, sniffling. You’re unsure if your nose is running, it's too frozen to tell, and it has you patting to confirm it’s presence. With your hands stuffed in your pockets and a jacket wrapped tight around your body, you'd think you'd be warm, but no.

The alley is dark. It's dank enough that you can smell it and you're positive what you're dancing in is vomit, but none the matter—today, you met your favorite band. Literally the people you'd die for.

"Merrily, merrily," kicking the loose rocks in the gravel every which way, you enjoy the sound of them scattering against the surrounding brick walls. "Merrily, merrily..."

"Life is but a dream," a voice finishes, a yelp rips from your throat and you jump twenty feet in alarm. But you’d know that voice anywhere; Denki chuckles at your reaction and it has you recoiling with timidity, unprepared for the surprised audience. "You have a lovely voice, Cutie. You should use it more often."

"I..." but you're not exactly sure what to say to that, knowing Denki's heard so many professional voices in his career to last a lifetime, and yet yours is lovely. "T-Thank you."

Denki watches your reaction with a hum and a smile, his visible breath escaping between the slit of his lips and into the cool air.

"Of course, Cutie."

Another voice sighs, shattering the friction that fills your gut when Denki gives you that look. You're not sure what to call it, but it makes you shiver, and that's enough to make you to run and hide.

"...Denki, who's this?"

"Um," the blond places his frozen hands in his pockets and swivels his head around to Hanta, guilty written all over his face. "A fan?"

Hanta sighs again, head tilting to the right in exhausperation, “Denki—"

"I know, I know," the electric blond sighs, waving him off. "But it's fine as long as we don't get caught, right?"

Hanta's black hair threatens to fall into his face so he combs through it, and you try not to drool at the sight of his bicep flexing. "Yeah, until we get caught."

A honk blares and it has you shrieking, to reveal a parked tour bus in the alley once the lights flicker on. Denki points the car keys at the vehicle and the doors swing open. "Awe c'mon, don't be a sour puss. It's a one-time thing, alright?"

Hanta's eyes narrow into slits.

"Seriously, dude! I'm a man of my word! On God."

The noirette's shoulders sag, but he waltzes around both of you to get on the bus. Over his shoulder, he warns, "Denki I swear to fucking god—"

"I'll be careful, I'll be careful~" he singsongs, hopping onto the stairs after the pianist. When Denki notices not you're not moving, he stills at the top step. "You coming, [Y/N]?"

"O-Oh, am I um, am I allowed?" You ask, biting your cheek at the thought of what Hanta just said as you peer around the electric blond’s body. Denki snorts, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you're allowed," he exits the bus, only to tug you on via your collar. "Now c'mon! Let's have some fun, yeah?"

"Okay!"

Denki steers you through the bus and into a space that looks a bit like a living room, with a couch, tv, and a makeshift kitchen in the corner. Following Denki to the kitchen, you look around.

"Where are Kirishima and Bakugou?"

"Out drinking," Denki tosses, flicking open a RedBull. You wonder if this is always the post-concert routine. Hanta fiddles in with something on the couch, but he still has yet to look you in the eyes tonight, even when you ask him:

"What are you doing?"

It seems he didn't realize you’ve relocated from the kitchen to the couch next to him from the noirette nearly jumps. The green stuff in his fingers crumbles, and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

"It stinks," you add. Denki snorts, jumping onto the cushion to your right. There isn’t a whole lot of room and his addition causes your shoulders to slush between the two of them, but it’s strangely comfortable.

"It's weed," he explains like it's obvious. "You smoke, Cutie?"

"Obviously not," you and Hanta say at the same time. You turn his way, and for the first time that night, Hanta looks you in the eyes—and it's a smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners, but there's...something else. Something else hidden behind the thinnest veil that makes you cower, if ever so slightly.

Something feral.

Denki, unaware of the crushing grip your hand has around your thigh, huffs, and tosses the energy drink down his gullet, "It was a genuine question! Geez."

"What are you doing?" You ask again, and the electric blond whimpers from being ignored.

"Rolling a joint," he utters, lifting the paper to his lips to lick the length. You watch, semi-disgusted, as Hanta finally folds over the last bit of paper around the crest of the joint, gluing it together.

"Know what a joint is?" The noirette implores.

"Yeah," you breathe, shifting at the new closeness Denki provides when you feel his chest against your back. "My roommate smokes, so."

Hanta taps it on a tray, or what Denki describes as "packing it down," before twisting the tip and tossing it back onto the tray in conclusion. Denki cheers.

"Aha! The joint-rolling master has blessed us! Everyone say thank you, joint-rolling master."

"Thank you, joint-rolling master!" You giggle when Hanta's face turns a ruddy red. He reaches over to pop Denki upside the head. Denki gasps, before lunging to return the favor, and you squeal from being jostled between two men.

"Okay," when Denki returns to his seat he's panting and so is the noirette. He picks the joint off the tray and though there isn't much room, turns so he's facing you, your legs smushed against his body indian style. "You ready, Cutie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you huff, swinging your arms in preparation despite the lack of space. Just in case.

Hanta snorts, holding the joint to your lips, and Denki raises the lighter and raises it to the end until it's hot enough to burn on its own.

“Now suck."

You do, cheeks puffing, and you blow the smoke straight in Denki's face. It's...a lot.

"Not quite," Hanta chuckles, and flips you via the waist so you're facing him. Denki whines from the change but finds solace in hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Suck, and then inhale. Act like it's a big breath—you gotta hold it in your lungs for a sec."

"Okay," you assert with a nod, eyes burning with a new determination. When Hanta holds it to your lips, you suck and inhale, and start coughing your throat raw, in a flurry of smoke and tears, eyes watering and nose burning. You scramble for water, but by the time you get some, the only thing that's left to soothe is a sore throat.

"Here," Denki offers, grabbing the joint before flipping you his way again. "Take smaller hits, like this."

Denki's mouth wraps around the tip and smoke pours from his lips so smoothly you're determined to do the same. With a raised eyebrow, he passes it back to you, and though it takes a moment, you try again.

The back of your throat tingles but the glide is much smoother, and you find that it doesn't burn on your next exhale. So you do it again. And again. And agai—

"Okay," Hanta picks the joint from your fingers with a click of his tongue, before taking a hit himself. You frown, making grabby hands.

"Hey, wai—"

"Nu-uh," he tuts, pushing you down by your forehead. "You'll feel it soon enough, trust me."

You whine, crossing your arms over your chest. Hanta gives you nothing but a raised eyebrow as he takes another hit, and you're convinced it's to taunt you. "I'm not eve—"

But then the world blurs, a bit, and your legs hum in a way they haven't before; it's warm and it's nice, and it has you blinking down at your hands in bewilderment. Whoa.

"And there she goes," Denki announces, and somehow seized the joint from the noirette when you weren't looking. Your mouth drops to say something, but all you can produce is a light giggle before it melts into a guffaw that only comes straight from the gut, your hands trying to soothe your cramping belly. Tears come to your eyes fairly easily, and when Hanta asks if you're okay he sounds like he's underwater, and that's enough to send you flying through another fit of laughs.

"I—y-yeah, I'm just—just fine," you snort behind a hand, chest spasming as you finally gather yourself enough to calm down. "I'm good. Mhm."

"Yep. Totally fine," Hanta says, but something in his tone suggests he doesn't believe you at all.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to avoid another laugh attack with your hands bunching the bottom of your shirt for extra purchase. Hanta narrows his eyes while taking another hit, so you sock him in the shoulder with a huff. "Stop looking at me like that."

The noirette snorts, "Like what?"

"Like..." you start strong, but falter under his eyes. "Like you want to eat me."

Hanta hums at the comment but says nothing, and you're not sure if your mind fabricated the quick look he gives the electric blond sat behind you. Denki speaks first.

"Do you know what shotgunning is, [Y/N]?"

You frown, "Like a shotgun?"

"So no," Hanta answers for you.

"Here," Denki offers, turning you again. Plucking the nub of a joint from the noirette, he takes a big hit before picking your face up by the jaw and hovering your lips over yours. You're not sure what to do, but once your lips connect, smoke fills your lungs, and you don't exhale until Denki pulls away. You blink, a little dazed.

You just kissed Denki Kaminari.

"Feel good?" He asks, never leaving your personal space. You nod, and he grins. "Wanna do it again?"

Your hands fist his shirt, teeth tearing the inside of your cheek due to the amount of embarrassment this question encourages. "I wan—can we do it again but without the um...without the smoke?"

Denki's hands find your hips and it's hard for him to contain a sly smirk, biting his lips to move in on his prey.

"I knew I waned you the second I saw you."

Denki's lips feel much better when he puts a little weight into the kiss, pinning you between him and the noirette. You're not exactly sure what you're doing but he takes the lead, titling his head and kissing harder, rougher, so your lips are pink and swollen by the time he pulls away.

"A-Another," you whimper, tightening your grip around his tee.

Denki hums in contemplation, picking your head up by your chin. "Ask nicely, Cutie."

Flushing deeper, your eyes dart to the coffee table.

“Another, please."

"Good girl," Denki coos, and he's propping you up against Hanta's chest. You shiver at the comment, finding purchase on Hanta's thighs as Denki kisses you on the lips again. "Wanna feel even better?"

"Yes," you nod vehemently. "Yes please."

Denki hums at that, climbing down your body as his hands glide from your waist to the band of your pants. You frown, "What—What are you doing?"

"Eating you out, Cutie," the electric blond says, hands freezing once his thumbs dip under your waistband. "That okay?"

"Oh okay," you breathe, relaxing against Hanta's chest. "Y-Yeah, that's fine."

Denki rips your pants off at that, tossing them towards the corner of the room and ultimately, to a place you'll probably never find them. Pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips at the sight of your pussy, and flicks your clit with a smirk. You jump.

"H-Hey, that's not—"

He flattens his tongue against your slit and chuckles when you shudder, and after tossing both of your legs over his shoulders. You're not sure what he does after that though, because Hanta picks your face up by the chin and presses his lips to yours.

Denki slides a finger inside and you squeal against Hanta's chapped lips. You hear the electric blond moan, readjusting himself between your thighs, before you finally peel your lips off the noirette's, chest having from lack of oxygen.

"Such a pretty pussy, Baby," Denki gushes before his warm lips fold around your clit and he sucks, humming in surprise when you buck against his mouth. Hanta hooks his chin around your shoulder with a second joint dangling between his lips—and where it came from is beyond you.

Once he exhales, the joint finds its way between your lips and he instructs you to inhale, and the head rush afterwards has you digging your head into his chest.

"You're so wet, holy shit," Denki pulls away, lips strawberry pink and glossed with slick as he trades his both for his thumb and inserting another finger. It crooks just right and that's enough to make your hips buck, nails carving crescents in Hanta's thighs.

“T-There,” you whimper, wiggling your hips again, and Denki grins, thumb pressing into your clit. Your thighs quiver with the strain it takes to hold them back and Hanta’s calloused hands skip to your waist after dropping the burning joint off in the tray.

“Pull his hair,” the noirette commands, but you hesitate, hands glued to his thighs. Hanta sighs, reaching over you to tug for himself.

“Mph—fuck!” Denki’s eyelids flutter as he moans into your pussy with a new passion, his hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you in place. You gasp at his reaction, fingers scrambling under Hanta’s own to thread through his electric blond hair.

“Move your hips—grind against his face, c’mon,” Hanta’s grip tightens around your waist as he offers the suggestion, and you whimper with a nod before your bucking into Denki’s mouth without abandon. As the noirette trails butterfly kisses up the column of your neck, the coil in your gut snaps, and you barely have time to squeak out a warning before you’re flooding Denki’s mouth.

“Good girl...ride it out—there you go,” Hanta coos, biting your ear. You shiver as Denki pulls away with a final (and obscene) slurp, grinning like he didn’t just shatter you to pieces with nothing but his tongue and fingers.

Denki’s lips are on yours in a blink—you moan, legs still buzzing from the afterglow as you weakly grope for the small hairs on the back of his neck.

“Taste good, don’t ya?” He says with a click of a tongue after pulling away.

“I guess so,” you flush, the humiliation from so shamelessly digging your heels into Denki’s back finally settling in. Hanta reaches under your arm for Denki’s chin.

“What? Want a taste too?” The electric blond giggles, wiggling his eyebrows. Hanta snorts.

“If you could be so kind.”

Denki hums at that, placing a hand on your inner thigh for balance as he slams his lips on the noirette’s for the first time that night. He dives straight for the kill, tongue and teeth and everything, and Denki moas when Hanta’s teeth sink into his bottom lip; you find that you like it a lot.

Though eventually you tired of watching, and press the heel of your hand on Hanta’s hard cock through the fabric of his jeans. The pianist hisses, and you grin—you’ve got their attention now.

“Whoa Sweetheart, what are y—“

“I...I want more,” you assert despite the tremor in your voice. Hanta raises an eyebrow in question which has you pressing harder in hopes he’ll cave just as easily as before. Just in case, you add, “Please.”

Denki redirects your attention by squishing your cheeks until you’re looking him in the eyes. With dark eyes, he says, “You sure you want more, Cutie?”

You nod despite the restriction, “Wanna...wanna get to know you better.”

You watch Denki’s pupils dialate at that, and he can’t even hold back a groan when he says:

“Gods, Baby. We’re going to ruin you.”

unpopular opinion: bakugou's the bassist and kirishima's the drummer. fight me.

not me projecting 12yo sun's fantasy of getting railed in the tour bus by 5sos um—

#— 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #kaminari smut #sero smut #kaminari x reader #sero x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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gaaavin · 4 years ago

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Edmund Lowry Jr.

Hiya! I've had another idea and wanted to write something for it, too. It’s inspired by / based on that serial killer in RDR2. Feel free to give me feedback or whatever you'd like. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

Words: 4.9 k

Summary: You thought it'd be an easy job with a nice prey at the end of the evening, until everything took the wrong turn.

Warnings: angst, mentions of torture but nothing too graphic, kidnapping, thoughts about death but with a happy ending

Finally, some green around you. That was your first thought, after you and the whole Van der Linde gang had arrived in Horseshoe Overlook. It was a lovely camp with a beautiful view. You sure could stay here for a longer period this time, hopefully. The constant moving took a toll on everyone just as much as the running from the law. Before finally settling into your current camp, all of you had to flee from Blackwater. A job there had gone terribly wrong and there was talk about Dutch losing control and shooting a woman. You hadn’t been there at that moment but you just couldn’t imagine that something like this would ever occur. The Dutch you knew would never harm any innocent folks. This escape resulted in an overhasty departure for the mountains – Colter had been the place of refuge up there. It was cold and you almost had no supplies. You generally liked the cold weather and snow but the storm up there you all had to endure was way too much to enjoy it at all. For now, though, you tried to push the negative thoughts away, instead concentrating on your new surroundings.

About a week after all things had been unpacked, you decided to go into the nearest town – Valentine. Dutch was right about all of you needing money urgently and you of course wanted to contribute, too. You saddled your mount up and rode out, but not before telling Karen where you wanted to go. “I’ll check, if I can find anything interesting in Valentine. Do you need something from the store while I’m in town?” you asked her. Her response coming promptly. “Some candies would be nice, would make these days here a lot more enjoyable.” As she concluded her answer, she winked at you earning her a small laugh on your part. After nodding, you spurred your horse and went into town.

The first thing you noticed was the smell, even before you entered the city at all. The second thing was the auction yard. Well, that explains it. No wonder it smells like horseshit everywhere around here, you thought as you entered the city. The people seemed friendly towards you, greeting you here and there. Although, you knew that you shouldn’t get on the town’s bad side. Some of the guys from your camp had caused trouble in the saloon some days ago and let’s just say that they aren’t as welcome in there anymore.

One of the boys was Arthur, your- well, you didn’t know what exactly the two of you were. Back in Blackwater your friendship slowly turned into something more intimidate, even romantic, with it peaking one drunken night around the campfire when you shared your first ever kiss. The sparks flew through the air and you felt like you were on cloud nine, being the happiest you had been in months. Since then, though, it felt like Arthur was avoiding you. Or maybe you were just imagining things. After all, you two hadn’t had much time after all the fighting, shed blood and the running after that. You had a special bond with Arthur like you’ve never had with anyone before – even before your relationship went to some sort of next level. You could communicate without words, understanding the other in more than one precarious situation. Currently, Arthur was away to get Sean back from those bounty hunters – that’s at least what John had told you earlier. You tried to push the thoughts of Arthur to the back of your head, trying to focus on the task at hand – find a lead or somebody to rob.

As you finally arrived at the saloon across the gunsmith, you hitched your horse and entered the facility. You were greeted with warm, liquor-filled air as you headed towards the bar, letting your eyes wander around. Drunk men were an easy prey. Before leaving camp, you had put on nice clothes, that were quite revealing. For you, that was the best way to gather information about anything or to rob someone. You mostly played either the damsel in distress or someone looking for some night company and most of the men fell for it every time, letting you close enough for you to relieve them of their valuables or information. Either was welcome.

After some time, your eyes landed on a stranger, that was looking directly at you. Bingo! You tried to approach him with your best smile. “Hey stranger.” You said, earning you a small smile from him. He had something odd to him. You couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but something about him put you off and gave you goosebumps all over. For now though, you tried to ignore your gut feeling. You were experienced in the things you did on an almost daily basis. Even if he could possibly be some sort of danger for you, you would definitely be able to defend yourself. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time some drunk feller had inappropriate thoughts about you.

“Hey there.” He grinned at you. As you took a real first look at him, the thing you noticed right away were his eyes. You were a firm believer that the eyes displayed the door to the soul and his were just so… dark. Not just the color but also their aura. They had a strange glint to them and there was something deeper hiding behind them. Something bad maybe? Nonetheless, you offered him a drink and ignored your gut feeling again. After all, you wanted your camp members to have something to eat or rob in the future. “You seem lonely tonight. May I offer you a drink and maybe my company?” you asked him while fluttering your lashes. He seemed to think about his response for a moment, before finally saying. “Sure, that would be very kind of you. Thank you. Name’s Edmund Lowry Jr. May I ask yours?” You smiled innocently at him, before telling him a fake name.

Unfortunately, Mr. Lowry declined every further offer of you to buy him another drink. It would make things definitely more complicated if he didn’t want to get drunk. Quickly thinking of a plan B, you ultimately decided that you could just knock him out with the revolver hidden under your clothes if you’d be able to lead him to a more secluded area somewhere outside. He had told you earlier that he was a rich man and owned some land outside of Valentine, so the prey was too rewarding to not at least try to rob him. Although your plan was pretty dangerous, you put it into action by asking him if he’d mind joining you for a small walk outside. “The air in here is really getting to me and I think I need some fresh, new air.” He grinned almost devilish at you, before offering you his arm to lead you outside.

Taking a stroll in the streets, you tried to steer him towards the stables. This terrain was secluded enough for you to hit him and flee without causing much of a scene or getting caught. He guided you towards the fields in the back of the stables, let go of your arm and took a step forward, facing the wide area behind Valentine. This was your moment. With his back to you, you reached under your clothes to grab the revolver but just in that moment he turned rapidly around and pointed towards the theatre. Out of sheer shock your revolver slipped from your hand. Damnit! You tried to drown out the clattering of your weapon with an awkward cough. “My dear” he started and you turned around to follow the direction of his finger. You now stood one step ahead of him and couldn’t see him. “Would you like to visit a show with me?” In that moment you heard him shuffle behind you. Bewildered, you turned around and everything went black.

Arthur came back to camp after successfully rescuing Sean from those bounty hunters in Blackwater with Charles, Javier and Trelawny. He was dead tired and just wanted to eat something and go straight to bed. As he dismounted his horse, he went directly to get some stew and grab a bottle. Along his way, he was greeted with a well done here and there. Arthurs eyes wandered around camp, searching for you but you were nowhere to be found. It wasn’t strange for you to be absent; you often went to look for jobs and therefore were away for some days. Nevertheless, he was a bit disappointed to not be able to talk to you. The both of you hadn’t really had the chance to properly speak, especially not about your situation. He was so goddamn afraid of what was to come, of what you had done to him – he had opened his heart for you unwillingly and wasn’t sure if he could handle another proper relationship. What if you left him? What if one day you woke up and decided that he wasn’t what you wanted anymore. He couldn’t deal with another heart break.

After Arthur finished his stew, he went directly to bed. This night a welcome party for Sean was set to be celebrated and he just wanted to close his eyes a little bit before that. After some hours of more or less peaceful sleep – after all the party was being prepared and people were rummaging everywhere in camp – Arthur finally got up and let his eyes wander around camp in search for you again. “They aren’t here. Karen told me earlier.” Arthur looked to his left from where that characteristic voice came from. “Marston.” Arthur greeted him before John continued. “They went to scout for any leads in Valentine.” Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. Was it really that obvious to others? He decided to play dumb in hopes that he’d eventually be left alone. “I don’t know what you mean. Am not looking for anyone.” John smirked knowingly as he countered. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. Don’t you dare to think I’m stupid. I have eyes, Morgan and I know you pretty well.” Arthur sighed, slightly nodding. “Yeah, whatever.”

The celebration was pretty fun. Almost the whole gang was gathered around the campfire, singing songs away happily. These were the times in which Arthur almost forgot that they were actually running from the law. Of course, they had done that before but it never seemed as bad as it was now. Blackwater left a stain on everyone in one way or another, Colter wasn’t much better for regaining strength. His rock, though, has always been you. Since he’s gotten to know you, you always were able to calm him down, ease his nerves and see right through him no matter how inaccessible he tried to appear. You weaseled your way right into his heart. Although your way of life was a dangerous one, he knew deep down that you two were somehow meant for each other – understanding each other on a level he’s never had with anyone before.

As the night went on, Arthur’s mind always wandered back to you. He just wasn’t able to get you out of his head for even one goddamn night. Soon, he said his goodbyes and went to his tent, writing down his thoughts first before finally retiring to bed. By midday the following day you still weren’t in camp and Arthur started to worry, a bad feeling creeping up on him. Should he go search for you? No one knew how long you’d be gone. But even if you were just at the saloon or wherever it wouldn’t hurt to check in on you. Maybe you two would even be able to spend some quality time together after everything that has happened.

Soon after, Arthur mounted his horse and rode off, shortly after arriving in Valentine. Where should he start to search for you? Maybe the saloon? After all, it was so to say the heart of the town. If here was going on anything, he’d find his answers in there. After arriving at the facility, he immediately recognized your horse. So, they’re here, he thought to himself. Relieved, he finally swung the doors open and headed towards the bar. His eyes roamed the room, but found you nowhere. That struck him odd. You wouldn’t ever leave your horse behind somewhere. Just as Arthur sat down at the bar, the bartender spoke up. “Oh no, not you again mister. I don’t want any more trouble in here.” Arthur sighed, before replying. “I’m not here to cause trouble mister. I’m actually looking for a friend of mine. Have you seen them?” Arthur gave the man behind the bar a brief description of you and looked at him expectantly after he finished. The bartender seemed to think about it for a moment, before saying “Oh my memory isn’t the best, Mister. Maybe a little tip of yours could help it.” Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes while reaching in his bag to throw some coins towards the man behind the bar, adding “Now spit it” with gritted teeth. “Thank you. Well, I have indeed seen them in here. Yesterday they spoke to a man, seemed pretty cozied up, flirting the whole night. They left together, too. Seemed to go towards the hotel.” “Anything else?” Arthur asked. “No, not really. It’s just… That man that was with them yesterday seemed fairly strange. I didn’t have a good feeling with him. I can’t explain it really, but he was rather sinister.” Arthur thanked the man, before heading outside to try and track your footprints. He knew that you wouldn’t go with a man into his hotel room just like that, at least not to actually engage with him. You just weren’t the type for something like this. Hopefully, Arthur could track you down quickly. He didn’t have a good feeling in this.

As you slowly came back to your senses, your head practically screamed at you. It hurt like hell. What happened? You forced your eyes open and although the room was dimly lit, you tried to take in your environment. Where am I? So many questions came crushing down on you all at once as you tried to comprehend what you were seeing around you. While examining your surroundings, your eyes landed on the wall. There were many reports of missing persons. Where the hell am I? Letting your eyes travel further, the next thing they saw was blood. A whole lot of blood. Everywhere. And was that… a corpse in the corner? I need to get out of here immediately. You thought terrified and tried to move, but didn’t get away. You were tied up. God damn it! Your movements seemed to attract the attention of something or someone else in there. So, I’m not alone in here. You didn’t know whether that soothed your nerves or made everything worse. Just in that moment a voice from somewhere near sounded. “Oh good, you’re finally awake.”

Arthur finally arrived near the stables where your tracks ended, your horse in tow as well. Hmm, seems like someone was dragged from here to a horse. He examined the surrounding ground as he suddenly saw something shiny near one of the barrels. As he got closer to the object, his mouth fell slightly agape while his brows furrowed simultaneously. It was your revolver, he recognized it immediately. It had a special engraving he bought you while out in Blackwater. You two had to grab some ammunition for a job beforehand and as you saw the engraving you were thrilled. It looked so pretty. Seeing you all excited, Arthur wanted you to have something nice reminding you of him that you always took with you – no matter where you went. So, it was even more concerning finding it laying here with you nowhere in sight. What happened to you?

You knew that voice. This couldn’t be… Or could it be the man from the saloon? Just as you tried to recall the events from the night before, the man came into sight. You turned your head to look at him, letting your eyes wander from his face further down to his hands. They held something shiny in them. Finally recognizing that it was a huge knife, your eyes widened in shock and you gulped audibly, starring at him blankly. “Lowry.” You managed to get out between gritted teeth, your voice sounding too hoarse to really sound mad. “Welcome to my most favorite place in the world. Save yourself thinking what is about to happen. Now, I’m not going to lie. It’s not going to be nice… and fun. I mean, it will be fun for me, but it won’t be nice for you. At least, no one’s found it nice so far. Maybe you’ll be the first.” Lowry laughed maniacally, before he continued. “Do you like pain? Is it your friend? It’s about to become your very close friend. Very close. But when it’s over…release. Glorious release. Now, there’s no point fighting. You might as well try and relax a little bit.” Lowry approached you slowly, looking almost peaceful while you wanted to scream, scratch his eyes out, just do anythingto escape the upcoming hell awaiting you. As Lowry moved the huge knife slowly closer and closer towards your torso, a thought came to your mind. It was one single thought that hadn’t occurred to you up until now; you weren’t going to make it out alive of here and you wouldn’t ever see your family or Arthur ever again. You were tied up too strong to escape. As the realization hit you, you let your desperate tears fall freely – hopefully he wouldn’t stretch it out too long and you didn’t have to suffer too much.

Arthur had a bad feeling, a really bad feeling about this. Something just wasn’t right. Things weren’t adding up. You’d never leave your two most precious things somewhere voluntarily. Something had happened to you and Arthur was determined to find out what that was, to find you above all. Hopefully alive. He thought to himself but pushed that thought away quickly. He couldn’t stand to think something like this. After all, you could handle yourself pretty well, right? Arthur had seen you many times shoot yourself out of a dicey situation. You were smart, not taking too many risks. But no matter what he knew about you, he knew just as certainly that this time something went the wrong way. He tried to track the hoofbeats up to a door on the ground. Maybe an entrance to a cellar? He thought to himself with his stomach dropping to the floor.

Arthur examined the door closely, eventually discovering the locket on it. He took a steadying breath, before attempting to crack it. His hands were shaking, he was so afraid of what he’d find behind that damn door. Just as he leaned closer towards the door and the lock to start cracking it, he heard a bloodcurdling scream from inside the cellar. Was that your voice? Oh damn, yes, that sounded definitely like you. His first thought was that he’d kill that bastard causing these sounds to escape from your lips. His second thought, though, was Thank God, you’re alive. As he finally was able to enter the room, he could hear heavy panting. He didn’t waste any time looking around, heading straight towards the source of the sounds. As you saw him, your eyes widened, shaking your head frantically. Your mouth was stuffed with some sort of white cloth, so you couldn’t speak to him. This is a trap! You wanted to scream at him. Arthur looked at you with a deep sadness in his eyes – and adoration. You looked like a complete mess. Everywhere on you was blood. Lowry cut along your torso and beat you, resulting in a black eye and a burst open lip. But nonetheless, Arthur had that look on him that he just gave you – a special soft one. It let the tears well up in you even more than before, now crying desperately.

Arthur couldn’t believe it. You were alive, but only barely. You looked like you went through hell and you probably been there for the last hours. How long have you been down here? At that thought, guilt overcame him completely. While he was in camp sleeping, partying with his family, you were being tortured and bearing unspeakable torment. How could he have been so dumb? He should’ve listened to his gut feeling, searching for you earlier. He sprinted towards you and wanted to free you from your bonds, beginning with your mouth. “Are you alright?” He asked you concerned, before looking you up and down for any deep wounds. “It’s- It’s a-“ you tried to answer him, but your throat was sore from all the screaming and the lack of fluids.

Arthur heard something behind him, a slight movement, but enough to cause him to turn around pretty quickly. Too quickly for Lowry, who hadn’t expected that. Lowry stumbled slightly back, hitting the wall with his back. Arthur took advantage of the confusion of his opposer and hit him hard, once, twice. Arthur was so furious. How dare that man to do something like this to you? How dare he touch you at all? All these thoughts were crushing down on him, altogether with his guilt about not being able to protect you. He beat him up, again and again and again. It was almost as if his fists moved alone by now. “Arthur, stop!” He heard your raspy voice, breaking with every syllable and it brought him back to reality. Lowry was knocked out and didn’t move anymore. Arthur shook his head as if shaking all those thoughts off for now. He tied Lowry up quickly, before rushing to you to finally free you for good. As you were finally free, you basically fell in Arthurs arms and just started to cry. It was a mixture of everything – pain, fear, but also relief and gratitude. Arthur helped you up the stairs and lifted you up on his horse. After that he sprinted back to get Lowry and loaded him on your horse and finally mounted behind you in his horse.

The way to the Sherriff’s office was quiet. No one said a word. You were sniffling and resting against Arthurs body with your eyes closed, while he soothingly rubbed circles and held you close so that you wouldn’t slip off his mount. “I’m gonna bring him in and tell the Sheriff where to find that damn cellar and after that, I’ll finally bring you home. Just wait here a second. I’ll be back in a moment.” You nodded slightly, hoping it wouldn’t take too much time. You just wanted to head back to camp and sleep it all off.

After a short time, you heard a shot from the office. Your eyes widened in shock and your heart started to thump heavy in your chest. What was happening in there? After a few moments, Arthur finally came out again. “That bastard tried to kill the Sheriff. I had to shoot him.” You just nodded, sighing relieved, while looking him up and down for any injuries. “I’m fine. Now, let’s get you back home.”

The last few days have gone by in a blur. After you arrived back in camp, Ms. Grimshaw tended to your wounds and you were on a good way. Arthur hadn’t left your side all this time – bringing you stew, a coffee or just keeping you company. He wouldn’t even sleep in his own tent, always staying with you on a chair next to your kot. Today was the first time in days that you felt like you could walk around a bit – and you desperately needed it. Being trapped all those days in camp was making you go crazy. “Arthur, would you mind taking a walk with me?” you asked him. He seemed to contemplate for a moment. Shouldn’t you go easy a few more days and rest? “Arthur, please. I’m gonna go mad if I have to stay here for another day. Just a small walk along the shore. You’re with me, so what could possibly happen to me?” That question stung a bit. He couldn’t protect you before, why were you still feeling so safe with him? Nonetheless, Arthur finally agreed, offering you his arm to support you just in case you felt weaker again.

As the two of you arrived at the little beach, you held tightly onto his arm. You never wanted to let go. Coming to a halt, you two turned to watch the water. So peaceful. “You know...” you started, breathing in and out. “When I was trapped back there in that cellar, I really thought I wouldn’t make it. I thought that the last things I’d ever see would be blood on the walls and that bastards face with that devilish grin. I was so mad at myself for not listening to my gut feeling, for being so goddamn stupid, that I kinda felt like I deserved it. I thought that the last thing I’d hear would be that maniac’s laugh or my own screams. I thought that I’d never see daylight again, flowers, my family or you. Before that happened, I thought you were avoiding me or that you maybe thought that this kiss back in Blackwater was a mistake.” At that his head snapped towards you, watching you intently before you continued. “And I had regrets. Not about the kiss, of course, but about not telling you how I truly felt about you Arthur. I love you; I really do. I couldn’t bear not seeing you again. It broke my heart.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought back to your personal hell, Lowry’s most favorite place as he called it. This thought struck a nerve inside you, his voice echoing those exact words. Your tears started to fall freely by now and a chocked sound escaped your mouth. “I really thought I lost you, Arthur. I thought I lost against him. After all this time running, it would be a failed lead that had the power to end me.” You cried and just couldn’t stop. Arthur embraced you, pulling you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let you go again. While holding you like this, he said. “When I came back from rescuing Sean, I was disappointed you weren’t in camp. When you weren’t there for the welcome party I started to worry. But when I saw your horse outside of the saloon and you weren’t nowhere in sight, I panicked and freaked out. I knew you’d never leave him behind. I was so desperate to find you and just so goddamn afraid. Afraid, I’d never see you again. That I’d lost you while I was back at camp relaxing. I wasn’t able to protect you, eating and sleeping while you were being tortured. That image of you tied up, covered in blood just won’t leave my mind. Maybe if I went to look for you earlier, you didn’t have to endure all this. I couldn’t protect you and I’ll never forgive myself for that and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

You slightly leaned back to look him in the eyes that were filled with so much sorrow and guilt, it made your heart ache. “Arthur” you began, while cupping his cheek with your hand, the other still holding tightly onto him. “This wasn’t your fault, do you hear me? There isn’t any chance in the world you could’ve prevented this. You know I normally can handle myself; it was a job gone terribly wrong. If anything, you saved me. You saved my life – I owe you my life, Arthur. Don’t you dare put this burden on your shoulders. I never asked you to come along with me, I went alone and I knew that something could happen. Believe me, this wasn’t your fault, not at all. Lowry did kidnap me, not you. He mistreated me, not you. He used his knife to hurt me, not you. Even if you had been there earlier, he still would’ve had more than enough time with me alone. Please believe me when I say, that there is nothing I have to forgive you. And there isn’t anything you have to forgive yourself. You couldn’t have changed this in any way. I should’ve listened to my sentiment. He had something strange about him from the beginning. But he told me that he was rich so I went for it nonetheless. “

Arthur still wasn’t fully convinced, but seemed more at peace – at least for the moment. “I really thought I lost you and I never want to lose you again. Back in Blackwater, I was so damn afraid of what we had but now I can’t get into my head how foolish that was of me. I love you, too, so damn much. And if you’ll still have me, would you want to be mine?” You were smiling through your tears, as you nodded and finally kissed Arthur the second time in your life. This time, though, with more certainty than ever before.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x gn!reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x y/n #reader insert #mywriting #mine #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #edmund lowry jr.#rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fandom

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veryreallyfuckinbad · 4 years ago

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FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 2

TW: Injury, strong language.

A week has passed since you found the note, that was your guess at least. Time was difficult to keep track of. With no calendar, the only way you could keep track of how much time has passed was by monitoring your supplies. You were on your heels ever since then, after all you didn’t know the stranger’s intentions.

Jake was useful, both in keeping you sane and in tracking any edible creatures, mainly squirrels. Lately, however, you could find fewer and fewer animals. That’s the only reason you decided to venture out of your camp, which has grown- you set up a small, green tent, got a couple of logs to sit on by the fire, even installed a makeshift security system which consisted of some tripwire and empty cans that alerted you whenever someone, or something got too close to your camp. Jake was incredibly helpful with setting the tripwire up, he tangled himself in it about four times before you could tie it around the trees properly. He was also kind enough to make sure that the cans were free of any dangers, sticking his snout in them and running to you so you could take them off. You didn’t mind, though. You enjoy every second you spent with the animal, he made you laugh and feel safe- always alerting you when he sensed danger nearby. You couldn’t deny that the two of you had a special bond, the kind of bond that only two wild creatures that were both hurt by the world could have.

The lack of supplies caused you to venture out of the “safety” of your camp. You didn’t want to stray far, so you decided to check a lone cabin that stood in a clearing, between the trees, about three miles from your camp. You had found it while tracking a buck with Jake but decided to come back to it later, as not to lose your prey[J1] [J2] [J3] .

You walked on the moss-covered forest floor with Jake trotting by your side, glancing up at you from time to time. Every time you stepped on a stray twig, the snapping noise would cause him to growl and look at you, giving you a warning before he realized that you weren’t in any danger. All you could hear, apart from Jake’s occasional panting was the beautiful, almost calming chirping of birds. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered the first time you heard a woodpecker hitting the willow you were set up under with his beak- you almost pissed yourself. It was unexpected to say the least.

You reached the cabin, taking in the disturbingly tranquil sight. It was wooden and old, some mushrooms grew on the half-collapsed roof and you could see ferns and twigs growing through the broken windows.

“Alright,” you kneeled down and gave Jake a pat between his ears “now, we need to be careful. Some could be trapped inside” you smiled at your companion and stood up.

Slowly and quietly, you made your way to the cabin door and unsheathed your knife. You gave Jake a signal to stay down, knowing that he would understand- you did this with him before. He understood you and your signals well.

You quickly opened the door, making it hit the wall. You sighed with relief as you saw that no walkers were inside- at least none of them were in the main room. You looked around- broken glass littered the wooden floor, greenery grew out of cracks in the floor. You still had to check the bathroom, so you motioned for Jake to enter. He trotted around the cabin and sniffed everything he could, finally stopping by what you presumed to be the bathroom door. He began snarling and you noticed him tense, fur standing up.

You stood in front of him and quietly praised him while getting ready to take down the walker locked inside. You burst the door open and to your surprise, you weren’t met with any growls or hands trying to claw at you- all you found was a broken mirror and an empty cabinet. Your only complaint about the bathroom, beside it being clear of supplies, was the horrible stench of something rotting, but you couldn’t pinpoint the source of the smell. Then it hit you. The shower. The glass surrounding it was so dirty and smeared with things that you would rather not think about that you didn’t see the walker inside. You quickly swung the glass door open, dead hands and teeth instantly trying to get you. Before you could take it down, however, you felt your foot slip on a puddle of some kind of liquid filth, maybe caused by the humidity of the room.

You fell backwards and wrestled the walker off yourself, trying to push Jake away to protect him. The fox was stubborn though, biting into its neck in an attempt to get it off you. While Jake distracted it, you crawled out of the bathroom, backwards. Calling your companion over to you, he immediately let go of the dead man and ran up behind you- thankfully unharmed.

Before you could catch your breath, you were tackled to the ground once again. This time, though, you felt a sharp, splitting pain, worse than anything you’ve felt in your life. The broken glass dug into your back and the back of your thighs, impaling one of them. Despite the pain, you didn’t give into the walker and with the last of your strength, picked up a sharp shard of broken glass from beside you and plunged it into the walker’s skull, causing it to go limp and fall on top of you- pushing the broken glass even deeper into your back and thighs.

You put your hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the blood curdling scream that was slowly forming in your throat. You managed to push the walker off yourself and tried to stand up, but couldn’t. Jake ran up to your side and whimpered, he didn’t know what to do. He nudged your hand with his head which made you relax a little, it was comforting. He suddenly jolted up and began pulling you by your sleeve, wanting you to get up. You complied, but it was awfully painful.

“Okay” you panted, “I’m okay” you weren’t sure whether you tried to reassure him or yourself.

“Let’s just get out of here, please” you choked out between whimpers and examined your thigh. A huge shard of glass was stuck in it, you wouldn’t be able to walk properly. Knowing that pulling it out would make you bleed out, you ripped off your sleeves and began tying them around the shard in an attempt to stabilize it. You could feel the warm blood trickling down your back, it was a strange feeling. You were quickly becoming dizzy- you were losing too much blood. Shaking your head to remain conscious, you stood up slowly, grabbing onto a table for support. Jake wagged his tail when he saw you get up.

Your head was spinning, you were unsure of which way your camp was. Everything was blurred and cloudy. You knew that if you didn’t find any form of help, and soon, you were a dead girl walking. You pulled out your arm to grab onto a tree, stumbling in the process. All you could do was walk forward. Jake never left your side, nudging you whenever you fell down, even allowing you to lean against him while standing up.

“Just go, please” you breathed shakily, “I don’t need you to get hurt if something happens to me” was all you could say before Jake’s ears went back, he gave your hand a quick lick before he took off. You knew that he didn’t want to go, but you were also aware that if he stayed near you, you could eventually become a danger to him. You kept walking forward, with no destination in mind. You just wanted to sit down and close your eyes for a moment. You shook your head, thinking about everything that has happened to you so far.

Jake, your previous group, they would all want you to keep going. Fox Jake, too.

“Come on” you encouraged yourself “You can goddamn do it”

You stumbled when you saw Jake come running back, squeaking and tail wagging. Even in your desperate state, you couldn’t help the smile that crept upon your face. He came back for you for some reason. You wanted him to go and wanted him to stay at the same time. He gently grabbed your wrist with his teeth, making sure not to hurt you. He pulled you in a different direction and let go, trotting to where he was trying to lead you and coming back again in an attempt to get you to follow him. You did just that.

You squinted your eyes, trying to shield them from the light when you saw an opening in the trees. It was a clearing. But as soon as your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw it- a giant, beautiful mansion with farmland, a barn, hay bales, even a chicken coop. A path made out of pebbles led to the house but you didn’t dare step out of the shade offered by the trees. For a minute you were sure that you were dead. Places like this didn’t exist anymore.

You felt Jake’s teeth on your wrist again, even gentler than before. He nudged you to come out of the forest and into the field. You trusted him, so you did.

Everything was blurry, you were stumbling and couldn’t walk in a straight line. You could hear distant shouting but it was muffled and unclear, you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Out of nowhere, you were surrounded by strangers. They held you at gunpoint but as soon as they saw you looking at them with life in your eyes, they lowered their guns a little. They asked you questions, but you weren’t exactly able to make out their exact words.

“I’m…hurt” was all you could say before a jolt of adrenaline shot through you when you felt a bullet whiz right past your head, barely missing it. It was shot from the roof of some sort of big car but you didn’t have the chance to take a closer look before you noticed another man run up to you.

Jake growled at all the people, standing in front of you and snarling, showing off his sharp teeth. He was protecting you.

“You fuckin’ idiots! Lower yer guns and help ‘er!” A man yelled, his voice was strange. Gravelly.

You weren’t able to make out more of his yelling when you collapsed. The last thing you felt was Jake’s wet nose nudging your hand and the warm grass beneath your face.

Your eyes fluttered open. You had no idea where you were and no memory of how you got here. You were laying on something soft- were you in an actual bed? You looked around and sure enough, you were covered with white sheets, a pinkish pillow under your head. You sighed with relief when you felt Jake’s warm body pressed against your side, stroking his fur. He looked like a flame again, against the white bedsheets. You noticed his dirty pawprints all over the bed, suggesting he was trying to walk around you, maybe wake you up or lick your face.

“Where are we?” you whispered under your breath, causing Jake’s head to jolt up. He sat up on the bed and looked at you, his tail wagging happily.

“At a farm. Ya were really beaten up”

You jumped up. You didn’t notice the man sitting in a corner, leaning against the wall in the shadows. You were, to put it simply, shitting your pants. You were in a strange place with strange people, in no shape to move, much less run if you had to.

“Who..? I’m sorry I’m-“ you choked on your words, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy, but you were better. The horrible pain in your back and thigh was still present, causing you to hiss before you could finish your sentence.

“Yer alright. Ya wandered into our farm all cut up” he explained, but it didn’t relax you at all.

“Why would you help me?” You said and instantly regretted it, as the man stood up, allowing you to take a better look at him. He had short, dark hair and a crossbow attached to his back. He wore a dark leather vest with no sleeves. He was much, much bigger than you. You guessed that if he wanted to, he could kill you with his bare hands. But he didn’t.

He took a chair that was sitting in a corner and flopped down on it with absolutely zero grace. You noticed him stare you down as if trying to figure out what to say.

“Recognized the fox”

#the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl imagines

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tokimihyachi · 4 years ago

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Shampoo

Pairing: Fuegoleon Vermillion X Reader

Warning/s: None but fuego being cute

Walking back and forth in what seemed like endless circles, a hand holding his chin while thinking deeply to himself, Fuegoleon, considered to be one of the strongest Magic Knight captains in Clover Kingdom, has been fussing over something for the past few hours.

He's been going on and on about his options, but things didn't seem right. Due to his indecisiveness, he just decided to buy all of them and hope that he finds the one that would match and work.

Monday morning. You wake up a little late due to staying up all night watching Leopold flex his new magic in front of you. Honestly speaking, it took every fiber within you not to kick him out last night. But the boy's charm was too cute not to resist.

After taking a nice warm bath and getting your clothes on, the Vice-captain of the squad, Randall, greets you a good morning to which you happily reply back.

Leo along with Fuegoleon soon follow, "GOOD MORNING Y/N!!!" the little lion cub yelled, running into you for a hug but you were able to dodge it making him stumble on the floor.

"No, Leo! Do you realize how sleepy I still am because I had to watch you do what? Throw your fire in the air like some circus act for three hours! Three goddamn hours!" You and Leo continued bickering until you noticed Fuegoleon was thinking deeply to himself.

"Captain is there a problem?" You asked stepping forward and giving a light tap on his shoulder, making him flinch.

"Do you notice anything... different?" he asked, eyeing your face. His gaze at you was relentless making you blush in place.

"I-I uhm, nothing in particular. Should I be noticing something, Sir?" you asked back and he shook his head, plastering a generous smile at you.

"No. We should eat breakfast." and so he left you there who was still confused about his question.

'Hmm, it smells like lemons today.'

Wednesday afternoon. You've just returned from a mission and went straight to the bathroom to take a bath.

Can't have you reporting to your beautiful captain while you looked like some wet and ugly bird who's species can't even be identified now, don't we?

Your captain wasn't in his office when you checked so you went around the base to look for him only to find him sitting in the middle of the garden's base with both of his hands covering his head.

His mana as you drew near became more scattered, but as you took a step closer, a smell lingered and made their presence known, 'Roses. Did the gardeners add a batch of roses this week?' You thought inwardly, before tapping Fuegoleon on the shoulder.

"Oh, Y/N. How long have you been there?" the gentleman that he is, Fuegoleon gestured for you to have a seat beside him before giving you more space in between.

"Not long. I came to report our mission, Sir." his eyes looked for you for a few seconds, searching for something you could not pinpoint before he sighs to himself and stands up, "Alright. Let's go." he said and left, again.

‘Is he avoiding me?'

Sunday night. As one of the only women in the Crimson Lion Kings, you took it as your own mission to guarantee that the boys always eat with a full stomach, and made sure they were well fed during dinner.

Although Fuegoleon once said that there is no need for you to so, you insisted, saying this was the least you can for them, or more so, for him.

Rushing over to your captain's bedroom, you knocked a few times and no one answered so you decided to just barge in. What's the worst that could happen, right?

Your lack of common judgement was instantly slammed against your face as the Vermillion-haired royal went out of the bathroom door with only his towel wrapping the bottom half of his body. His well-defined abs in clear vision as well as his toned muscles.

Your foot did the work for you and left almost immediately, not giving Fuegoleon any chance of reacting. 'I didn't see anything. I didn't see anything, but oh my God, did you see his abs? his arms? it's not like captain Yami's but he works out too!!! Stupid, stupid, selfish towel—'

"You can come in now, Y/N."

Not even bothering to look at him, heat rises to your cheeks as you kept you head down low, "I-I'm re-really sorry, captain." after bowinng for what seemed like a good five minutes, Fuegoleon moved from his table and placed a hand on your shoulder, finally realizing that you weren't the only one who was flustered.

"It's fine." he reassured you despite the embarassment, "What brings you here?" he asked moving away from you.

"Dinner, Sir. I-It's time fore dinner, that is." you clarified, blushing even more. If there was a prize for best impersonation of a tomato you would've already won the award.

He looks at you and nods, but something took over your senses making you speak up suddenly, "By any chance did you... change the hair product that you use, captain?" Fuegoleon turns as soon as the word 'change' left your mouth.

His eyes twinkled in hope for a second before sighing to himself and smiling like an idiot, "How come you've noticed?" he asked, his uneasy smile no longer there.

"I've been smelling different things for the whole week, cap. From lemons, chamomile, berries, honey, roses, but—but this... this is my favorite." you replied passing by him to open the door.

"I don't think you need to change your hair products, Sir. Lavendar suits you most in my opinion." your statement alone had made him giddy and childish, grinning like a kid who's wish came true.

Before closing the door you added one more thing, "I like lavendar. A lot. See you at dinner, cap!" but even after you closed the door, you could basically hear Fuegoleon inside his room cheering:

'YES!'

BONUS:

One of the things Fuegoleon took pleasure in, was walking around the base to enjoy the scenery, but as he was passing by the kitchen, he accidentally heard Y/N's conversation with one of the cook's and the question they asked her, genuinely intrigued him.

"So, what do you like in a guy, Y/N?" the head chef of the Crimson Lions asked her.

Y/N smiles widely before answering, "A man who is responsible and caring for other people. Someone who's passionate in what they're doing and is just an overall amazing person and easy to converse with— OH!! I also like it when they take good care of their hair. The good smelling shampoos? Big turn on there." she explained, making the staff laugh loudly knowing she was describing him.

'Will this be my stepping stone towards becoming closer to her? But what are her preferences?' Fuegoleon thought.

"Seriously look at you all head over heels for him. What scent does he even have?"

'Him? She's interested in someone?'

"His scent? That's a secret. You might want and try to copy his smell just to impress me, who knows." she jokes around making them chortle.

'I shall make my scent be known.' And with an unfaltering objective, Fuegoleon does research about shampoo for a week straight during his spare time.

#black clover #fuegoleon #leopold vermillion #fuegoleon x reader #crimson lion kings #bc #one shot #fuegoleon vermillion #fluff

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 4 years ago

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My Golden Curse - Maxwell Lord x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Hello again, I may have stumbled upon the Pedro Pascal fandom and I can’t get out, and I saw someone posted that they wanted an imagine with Maxwell Lord and the reader in which one of them gets kidnapped and the other just goes ballistic, and I basically kept getting that idea stuck in my head, this was only supposed to be a drabble but oh well. This depiction of Maxwell Lord is closer to the DC Comics version of him and not the movie but it has Pascal’s Lord’s likeness, so it’s like a combination of the two.

Also, I have survived my finals and had taken a break from writing for a while but I’m back and I have some ideas for my Lucifer multi-chapter fic as well. I also have an idea for a John Wick fic but I have no idea if anyone wants to read that.

Warnings: Typical comic-book violence, cursing (like two curse words), blood mentioned, kidnapping, bruises and injuries (like ribs breaking, a concussion, and a few lacerations

______________________________________________________________

Maxwell Lord IV prided himself on presentation. Everything had to be pristine and everything, even the garbage can by his desk had to be impeccable, because his business and himself in general, are put out on display for the public. He is a figurehead and a showman, so when you came along to be his assistant and secretary he was at first apprehensive because you didn’t dress as provocatively as he may have like and you didn’t look as model-esque as his other secretaries in the past. You didn’t apply to Chimtech to be fucked by your boss, you were good at your job and you aspire to show off your skills.

However, time went on when you first started to work for Maxwell Lord and you did a phenomenal job, whenever he was in a meeting you would always make sure to listen and take notes of what he needed while he was in the meeting. Whenever he requested for you to fax an item you would’ve made sure to have done it five minutes prior. Maxwell had no idea how you could be so efficient at your job, but he damn well appreciates it even if he rarely ever mentions it to you.

It’s an odd relationship that you guys have worked yourself in, a friendly relationship it seems, but both of you are teetering on the edge of wanting more. There have been teasing nicknames, mostly from you, you had a plethora of nicknames that you would give him, ranging from “Sandy” to “Ken”, but “Golden boy” was your favorite.

You would never admit this to him or even to yourself but you actually liked his blonde locks. In certain lightings, when you look at him you swear he was Midas, covered in his own golden curse. It was breathtaking to watch him at some points, but you always try to cover up your flustered state.

You knew Maxwell well, some may say too well for a secretary, but you rarely saw the side of him that most of his competitors and fellow businessmen saw, and that was the merciless and ruthless side to his tactics on getting what he wanted. Everyone in the public eye saw him as just the “King of Infomercials” but there was a reason why and how he got that title in the first place. Who knew the infomercial world could be so cruel and hectic?

You were able to catch glimpses of Maxwell’s amazing abilities of persuasion and showmanship, he was able to get people to admit to what they want and get them to go out and seize, whether that was good or bad. There was a particular talent that you find out he has and it was his ability to drag out people’s hidden desires, there were times when the people he used this talent were a shock as the people around them when they admitted to what they really wanted.

He was a golden idol of his own creation; he had to be especially to the people around him. However, that golden facade can only keep him held up for so long when the people he handed gold to realize that it’s fool’s gold.

______________________________________________________________

It was earlier in the day, you just woke up and got dressed in your office attire with a cup of coffee in hand as you try to will yourself to get going. You looked up at your apartment’s clock and it was 7:00 am, you needed to get going if you were to make it to Chimtech in time.

As you stepped out of your apartment building you felt a gloved hand over your mouth and panic flooding your whole body, but before your body could even fully process a flight or fight response you felt a sharp pain in your neck and you passed out.

When you come to, your vision is blurred and you can’t understand where you are and your brain just has confusion filling your senses. Why can’t you process what is around you? What happened to you? After a couple of more seconds went by you felt a rope tightly woven around your wrists, and you comprehended that you were sitting on a floor. What happened to you?

“Ah, there’s the little doll’s eyes! I was wondering if you were beginning to ever wake up,” a voice filled your ears. You blinked furiously trying to get your eyes to focus and you found yourself face to face with a man, who was grinning at you like a shark finding the prey they smelled a mile away.

“I’m sure you understand why you’re here? I don’t need to monologue it to you, do I?” the man asks.

“Mr. Vince, right? You were in a meeting with my boss Maxwell Lord, a month ago, right?” you questioned him as the drug and weariness started to seep out of you, and you gained more awareness of your surroundings. The man, Mr. Vince was a part-owner of a tech company that Chimtech was interested in making an investment in, however from what you were aware of was that the true goal of the meetings with Vince and his company was to absorb it into Chimtech, forcing Vince and the other owners to give up their powers over to Maxwell Lord and the other board members of Chimtech.

“I see the drugs didn’t impair your memory, I assume you are aware that I am no longer a CEO? That I was tricked by your goddamned boss?! That he put me in a corner to give up my company over to him!” he screamed. He was half an inch from your face and you were terrified of this man, he was unhinged.

“What does this have to do with me, Mr.Vince?” you asked, forcing yourself to not push him over the edge.

“Ooooh this has everything to do with your boss, I remembered that you are his secretary, so you must know some secret of his, something I can leverage against him to make him give me my company back,” he said.

“Even if I have any sort of information to give you, the damage is already done, your company is done in, it’s already been processed into Chimtech, there is none of your company left.”

That was the wrong thing to say as you felt a kick to your stomach. You groaned and rolled onto your side, and before you could recover from that there was another swift kick that you felt go directly to your ribs.

______________________________________________________________

Minutes blended into hours of constant yelling from Vince to him pulling you off the ground to throwing you back down like you were a piece of litter to being his personal punching bag. It was all you could do to just protect yourself and persevere through the pain because you were just a secretary, you were never trained in self-defense, hell you never even did track in high school.

Through the pain, you felt complete distortion and a high pitch whining going through your head, and you finally realized it was a telephone- a landline. Where the hell did this guy get a landline in this beat-up place?

Then, you hear Vince say, “Oh you want to hear how (Y/N) is?” you hear footsteps coming towards you then cold plastic was pressed to your cheek then Vince continued loudly, “Well here she is, talk.”

“(Y/N)?” You heard Maxwell, your golden boy, say your name and all you can do was say his name back in a raspy voice.

“What did he do to you?” Maxwell asked.

Before you could say any more the phone was taken away from you and Vince’s voice filled your ears.

“Tick tock Maxwell, I want my money and you can get your fuck toy back.”

Then silence, a sickening silence filled the room which made you feel every ache and pain that has been put on your body has made itself known by increasing levels of agony. You didn’t even feel it in you to even try to correct Vince’s words about you. You just wanted to sleep and not wake up for a whole day, maybe if you laid perfectly still and just not move a muscle the pain would go away.

As you lay there you tearily open your eyes back up and you can hear the tinny sounds of the echoing footsteps of your captor pacing back and forth in the room you were held in. It was nauseating, and you were confused as you thought, When did you close your eyes? How long were you out?

Then you fell back into your head, and you felt like you were spiraling in your own mind mixed with dizziness and nausea. You just wanted this to end.

A male voice was shouting so close to you and you can feel the panic coming out of his voice, and you can tell it wasn’t Vince because why would he do that?

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground and all you could do was cough sporadically from the new movements on your injuries. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

“I know (Y/N), but you just need to keep going a little bit longer,” the same voice told you.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint where you heard that voice before but you thought it was your boss, Maxwell Lord, but it couldn’t be. That would be the last thought that went through your mind before you lost it to the void.

All you can see at first was just bright and it hurt so bad. When you turned your head you saw a flash of gold and your first thought was, ‘Maxwell’. When your eyes adjusted to the room around you it really was your boss, Maxwell Lord in the hospital with you. He was slumped down in a chair beside your bed and you saw there were roses in a vase on the table next to you.

“Gold-golden boy, hey,” you rasped out trying to wake him. You coughed and then groaned as you felt the lacerations and bandages around your torso.

You saw him stir in the chair and his eyes opened and landed on yours. “Hey boss,” you whispered cringing at your voice. Your hands clenched at the sheets around you as you saw him blink furiously and stood up fast. You flinched at the fast movement but he didn’t seem to notice, as he moved closer to you.

“I am sorry about what happened to you, I didn’t think that our clients would go so far as to do this to you. I can’t believe that bastard did all of this to you-”

“It’s okay, I mean it hurts like a bitch but you ended up finding me didn’t you? What happened to him anyway?” you cut him off.

“Ah well, I may have gotten violent with him before the law enforcement could get him,” he said twisting his hands around and that’s when you saw the scrapes on his knuckles.

“I don’t know if you were a white knight to me but you certainly are a golden devil for doing that,” you replied.

He huffed out a laugh at your reply and he opened his mouth to say something but got interrupted when a nurse arrived.

______________________________________________________________

After the nurse left, you found out you still have a concussion lingering still, three bruised ribs and lacerations across your whole torso and arms.

When he listened to the whole list of injuries that you had gotten in the three days that you were with Mr. Vince, he felt rage boil over him but he tried to keep calm as he remembered the battered state he left Vince in. At least he made him feel some of the pain that he made you go through, Maxwell was a very prideful man in how he acts so for him to act like that was completely out of character for him.

He must be looking worried because he noticed your furrowed brows and you glancing at him every so often.

“Did you want to say something?” he asked

“Well, I was gonna ask you a similar question because I think you were interrupted by the nurse. Also are you okay?”

Your question startled him and the mention of the interruption made him clear his throat and fidget with his suit to try to hide the blush that was threatening to come up to his face. Your inquisitive expression on your face was watching him.

“I’ve been thinking that if you would like to leave the company, I won’t force you to stay, especially with what happened this week,” he said.

Listening to him say this made you panic and as you tried to sit up, Maxwell came up to you quickly as he says, “What do you think you’re doing? You got to take it easy.”

As you are situated in your bed you went to reach for Maxwell’s hand as you say, “Why would I want to quit? I love my job and I love working with you even if at times I don’t seem like it. None of what happened to me was your fault, how could you have known that Vince would react to the merger the way that he did.”

Maxwell was startled by this, he never had anyone in his family nor his company is so willing to stay with him especially when they are given an out.

He bowed his head toward you and said, “If you keep saying things like that I might want to keep you by my side for a long time.”

You laughed as you replied, “If you let me I will, you are a weird but kind man-” you stopped yourself as a thought came to your head.

“How long have you been here? What about Chimtech?”

“Ah well if my secretary didn’t get kidnapped and injured I wouldn’t be here right now, but you made me worried and how can I do my best work without my best assistant around me?”

“Now you’re just flattering me”

“But it’s true”

“Hmmm if you say so, Sandy”

______________________________________________________________

Four days have gone by and you were finally released from the hospital to go back to your apartment. You tried to go back to work at Chimtech, but Maxwell found you were released and gave you the rest of the week off to recover. You would become the envy of the company at this rate with how well the boss has been treating you.

Now that you have been just lounging in your apartment watching TV movies, and eating takeout for meals it has given you time to properly understand what happened to you for the past two weeks.

The way your boss, Maxwell, has been treating you made you see a whole new side of him. At first, you thought of working for him as both a blessing and a curse. At first, it was hell on earth, you ran yourself ragged making sure everything was up to par with Maxwell’s standards but after the next three years working with the man you considered him a friend of sorts. Even though you always tried to make sure to never consider employers and colleagues be separate from your personal life but it’s hard to do that when all you have is your work life.

Ever since the kidnapping incident, Maxwell had visited you every day in the hospital he even gave you flowers on the last day of your hospital visit, it was a beautiful vase of sunflowers.

You didn’t realize how long you were sitting on your couch thinking about your boss when you heard a knock on your door. You looked at the clock near your tv and realized it was nearly midnight.

‘Who could come by to my apartment at this hour?’ you thought.

You got up carefully minding the bruises still littering your body, and you opened the door surprised to see Maxwell.

His hair was a bit disheveled and he didn’t have a suit jacket on showing off the suspenders he likes to wear. He looked quite cute seeing him like this.

“Come in, Mr. Lord. What brings you to my place this late at night?” you inquired.

He ran his hand through his hair as he entered your apartment and he turns to look at you as you closed the door.

He sighed as he said, “I don’t know how quite to put this without sounding terrible, but after what happened to you, I can’t stop thinking about you. You are the best woman-the best person I’ve known and for you to still want to work with me after everything that has happened.”

He looked like he was getting frustrated with himself, you were shocked because how could you have gotten the king of infomercials to be so frustrated with his own words?

You took a tentative step forward to him as you placed a hand on his arm.

“Sandy, what’s going on?”

He was silent for a moment before he looked into your eyes with a strong determination as he says, “You know more about me than my own mother does, and after all this time together I’ve grown to respect you more and more. When I saw you in that hospital I wanted to kill the bastard and send him to hell when I found you like that in the warehouse.”

“I-I don’t know what to say, Mr. Lord-”

“Call me Maxwell, none of your silly names, not boss, not my last name, just Maxwell”

You could tell he was earnest with this and sincere it took your breath away to see him like this. He was beautiful and it made your heart flutter when you realize what he might be trying to confess to you.

“Maxwell” you breathed out testing his name out. You said his name once before and that was when you had gotten kidnapped but now this is completely different, almost like a prayer. A prayer to this golden devil of yours.

He smiled when he heard you say his name and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I wish I could kiss all the scars away from your body so you never have to live with them again. I wish that I could be yours, fully and I want to be clear that I would never use you like I may have done to my secretaries in the past. I want to be yours, in any way you may want me.”

“Oh Maxwell, I think I might have to grant your wish this time,” you say blinking away tears that were threatening to spill as you were listening to his confession.

“(Y/N)” he whispered reverently.

He cradled your face with both hands as he studied your face to see any resistance than he gently placed his lips on yours.

You made a small gasp as you finally felt his lips on yours, you clutched onto his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. He tilted his head and pushed your chin up to meet in for a deeper kiss. It felt amazing and you felt loved.

When you parted you were chasing each other’s lips to crash back into each other as you kissed each other until you both need a break. Both of your lips were swollen and you looked at him with such love that when Maxwell saw, he almost wanted to take you then and there but he was mindful of how fragile this love could be.

Author’s Note: I might do a second part if people want it but whew this took a lot out of me, I hope you guys like it!

#maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal #maxwell lord #imagines #x reader #wonder woman 1984 #max lord x reader

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bosspigeon · 4 years ago

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sunshine on a rainy day

Pairing: M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3669 Summary: Unit Bravo helps Juni with rooting through the sodden mess of his bedroom, and Mason tries to figure out just what the hell is going on with the detective.

I have no excuses or explanations for this. It’s just self-indulgent corny nonsense.*shakes Mason like an Etch-a-Sketch until he can acknowledge his goddamned feelings*

Please check out this cover of “My Girl” by Kele Okereke that inspired this whole thing, because it makes it gay and it brings my little homosexual heart so much joy~

Mild CW for references to sex/m*sturbation

Things are still… weird, with Juni.

Of course, he’s pretending they aren’t, and he’d be very convincing if it were anyone but Mason he’s trying to convince.

His smiles are too brittle, too tense, and they don’t make his nose scrunch up like they should. His laughs are too-sharp and high-pitched, strained with effort, and he hasn’t snorted once. He radiates tension the second Mason looks his way, hides behind his hair like he’s afraid to look him in the eye. When Mason first met the detective, he thought he was soft. Too soft. The sort Mason would chew up and spit out if he cared enough to bother, but then he dug a little deeper, hit a nerve or two, and found that shiny spine. He found that, when pushed, Juni had bite.

He may have gotten a bit addicted to the bite, and now that it’s gone, he feels completely off-kilter. Juni still responds when he flirts, of course, blushing and fumbling like always, but it feels… different, somehow. And it has since the bakery.

He apologized, and he thought that would make it better, but it hasn’t, and now he’s caught between frustration and what might be... guilt?

Clearly, he’s hurt Juni somehow, and he’s not sure how to fix it.

Why do you need to fix it? Why do you care?

He shakes it off. They’ve got more important things to worry about right now. He’s got to keep his head in the game.

“I’m sorry,” Juni says miserably, again, and Mason wants to shake him. What part of this is his fault?

“It’s not your fault,” Nate says kindly, before Mason can get snippy and make Juni withdraw into himself even further. “You can’t be blamed for bad luck.”

Juni snorts, grabbing his arm. “If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all,” he recites, like it’s something he’s said before. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “I Just Hope Both Teams Have Fun” and it’s a bit odd to see his arms without the cover of his usual sweatshirt. He keeps rubbing at his inner arm and the bird inked there. A self-soothing gesture, as if he’s not used to exposing so much skin. His nails are bitten all to hell, too. A mess of tells, this man.

“That’s the spirit!” Felix says cheerily, punching the air. The look Juni gives him is dry as a desert, and Mason feels a twist of something hot and acidic in his gut he can’t name. He wants to chuck Felix in a dumpster at least once a day, but the urge hits him like a truck out of the blue, and he can’t pinpoint the reason.

Fuck, he’d kill for a smoke.

“I’m still sorry,” Juni says again, squeezing his forearm. “For, y’know, the whole squad needing to babysit me for this.”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Nate exclaims, as if the very thought that Juniper believes their helping him sort through his soggy belongings to see what can be salvaged to be a chore is somehow an insult. “We’re happy to help.”

Juni gives Nate a soft-eyed smile that lights up his whole face, and that acid feeling burns more.

“You cannot be left unaccompanied,” Adam says stiffly, eyeing the horizon as if the Annunaki will swoop down on them in a parking lot in broad daylight. “It is best that we move as a unit when able, to ensure your safety.”

Juni ducks his head, still smiling. “Thank you guys,” he mumbles, and then he almost keels over when Felix slings his arm around his shoulder to shake him. Mason stifles a growl, and while Felix doesn’t notice, Adam and Nate both glance back at him with twin unreadable expressions he meets with the blandest look he can manage.

“I, for one, am looking forward to snooping through your place some more,” Felix snickers. Juni pushes him off.

For the most part, the flat is still in one piece, most of the damage contained to the bedroom, though the floor in the hallway is a bit waterlogged as well. Nate tuts in disappointment as the warped boards creak pathetically underfoot, no doubt mourning the fancy pattern to the antique wood. Mason can smell the water damage, mold and rot that no doubt caused the collapse in the first place, and the choking reek of plaster dust.

Juni sighs as he pushes open his bedroom door. The mess is even worse than Mason thought it would be, from what Juni told him. The bathtub that apparently crashed through his ceiling is gone, but the gaping hole remains, still shedding debris onto the ruined bed. The heavy antique bed frame itself is cracked clean in half, the mattress sagging in the middle, and Mason's chest squeezes.

Juni was right there seconds before an entire fucking bathtub came down on top of it. He could have been crushed.

He jolts when he feels fingers on his wrist, and when he looks down, Juni isn't looking directly at him, but towards him. "You can wait outside, if you want?" he suggests softly while Nate goes trotting into the room to cluck and fuss over Juni's bookshelf. "I know it smells kind of gross in here." His nose wrinkles a bit, and Mason hears the thick clicking of his throat as he swallows uncomfortably. No doubt, the smell’s not doing him any favors either, hyper senses or no.

"Did you bring a mask or something?" Mason asks rather than replying, gesturing to the plaster dust settled all over everything, floating in the air now that they've disturbed it. "Your lungs are already shitty enough."

Juni flushes a pretty, rosy pink and fumbles hastily for his bag with a little blurt of, "Oh, yeah!" He puts it on, and Mason wants to groan. Of course it's got a stupid little cat mouth on it.

"Juni," Nate calls, his voice heavy with sadness. He's holding a book in his hands as carefully as if it were an injured bird. "You have a collector’s edition of The Velveteen Rabbit?"

"Had," Juni corrects, his eyes crinkling with a sardonic little smile Mason can't see, but knows the shape of intimately enough to picture. “It had reproductions of the original lithograph illustrations too.” He gives Mason a quick sidelong look before pattering over to take the book from Nate and sadly try to peel apart the pages.

Felix sidles up to Mason with about as much subtlety as a bathtub through the ceiling while Nate assures Juni they can salvage the book, and likely a good amount of the others, if they are very careful. The younger vampire gives him a startlingly critical look that he tries to hide under his usual smirk. "You guys are ridiculous," he scoffs. Mason snaps out a hand to cuff him, but Felix dodges and rabbit-punches him lightly in the ribs. It’s surprising enough from someone as ambivalent to fighting as Felix is that Mason doesn’t even think to dodge, and when he glowers at him, Felix glowers right back.

It’s not terribly impressive on him, but points for trying.

“Be nice to him,” Felix hisses, and this time Mason is ready enough to swat his hand away before he can get jabbed again.

“I’m plenty nice to him,” he drawls, affecting an easy smirk.

Felix studies him for a long moment, then looks him dead in the eye, smiles glibly, and says, “You’re so pretty.” He reaches out like he’s going to pat Mason’s cheek, but he dodges and stalks away to help Adam move some of Juni’s heavier furniture that might still be salvageable. Felix makes a beeline for the bathroom, probably to rifle through Juni’s medicine cabinet or something.

Juni leaves Nate to meticulously pick through his bookshelf and slip blotting paper (which he made sure to bring the second Juni voiced his doubts the small collection of books in his room would be salvageable) between the pages and setting them aside to pack up and take back to the warehouse, where he has the supplies to take care of them. He starts bagging up clothes, while Adam and Mason prop his mattress against the wall to get it out of the way. He’ll have to get a new one for sure. Just being close to the damn thing makes Mason want to retch with the smell of the mildew. Juni drifts by to start bundling up his bedding, and his knuckles skim against Mason’s lower back.

A shudder rolls up his spine, and he settles as his senses calm down enough for him to actually assist Adam. The mattress isn’t heavy for them by any means, but it’s bulky enough to be a pain for just one of them to carry.

Juni is setting to work boxing up all his little trinkets and knickknacks (and he’s got a lot of them) when Felix comes barrelling out of his bathroom with something purple held victoriously above his head.

“Hey, Juni!” he yells, and all of them, even Juni, wince at the volume. “What’s this?”

Once he’s stopped, and is no longer a brightly colored blur in the vague shape of a vampire, Mason can actually see what he’s holding aloft like a trophy. Once he realizes what it is, he can’t help but smirk. Before he even looks at Juni, he can feel the heat radiating off him, his blood rushing, his heart rate spiking.

Even if Mason didn’t know what a goddamned magic wand was, Juni’s reaction would be a dead giveaway.

Faster than Mason has ever seen the detective move, he bolts across the room and snatches the thing out of Felix’s hand, hiding it behind his back. “Where did you find that?” he yelps, his voice pitching high and cracking.

“Your closet,” Felix says brightly, his eyes glimmering with mischief. He’s clearly caught on. “Should I not have touched it?”

“It’s clean!” Juni squawks, his face almost glowing red. “Don’t be gross!”

“Man, now I really wish I’d picked that locked box in there open,” Felix cackles, and Juni smacks at his shoulder and then breaks for the bathroom before the vampire can make good on that promise. He slams the door behind him and Mason hears the click of the lock, while Felix laughs so hard he has to brace himself against the wall and hold his stomach.

Adam and Nate are deeply focused on their own work, admirably pretending they haven’t noticed anything going on outside their little tasks.

It takes a while for Juni to be coaxed out of the bathroom again, but even mortification that makes him blush so ferociously that Mason can feel the heat of him from three feet away wouldn’t allow him to shove his duties off on someone else. He does bring a small wooden trunk out of the bathroom with him, closed with a little heart-shaped padlock that Felix could break off easily if he wanted to. Juni seems just as aware of that risk, so he guards the trunk with his goddamned life, even going so far as to sit on it and glower at Felix while he helps Nate pack up all his waterlogged books and fragile little trinkets.

Mason does give the trunk a very pointed look, trailing his eyes up the detective’s body and meeting his gaze with an easy smirk, just to watch him flush even redder, and while he does go so red the smattering of freckles across his nose almost disappears, he looks away sharply and hides behind his hair.

Mason barely resists pulling an Adam and crushing the weird little ceramic owl he’s packing away.

The rest of the day goes pretty uneventfully afterwards. He and Adam move and dry off furniture, drag stuff that can’t be saved outside to be thrown out, Nate delights in every interesting little antique he finds and mourns the damage done to them, Felix flits around and pretends he’s helping when he’s really just having fun rooting through the detective’s things, and Juni helps where he can and avoids Mason’s eyes as they track his every move. Even if they didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to shake the awareness of Juni, wherever he is in the room.

After they’ve packed everything they could into the Agency SUV, they head off. Juni is quiet on the ride back, sitting close to the window with a box of junk in his lap. Felix is between him and Mason, completely ignoring the odd tension and distracting the detective by asking about whatever random tchotchke he pulls from the box. Mason just stares out the window and tries to ignore the niggling desire to light a cigarette, only slightly mitigated by the fact that he doesn't even have one on him.

Later, once they’ve hauled everything to Juni’s room (or in the case of the books, to Nate’s room to be subjected to the tenderest of mercies) Mason sits on the roof alone for a long while, staring consideringly at an unlit cigarette and twisting it between his fingers. His head feels heavy with everything weighing it down, a twisting, confusing mess writhing in his skull. He tries, once again, to direct his thoughts to easier things, but every time he tries to think about Juni squirming underneath him, thighs squeezing his hips, gasping his name, his thoughts inevitably turn to gentle fingers on his cheeks, a bright laugh lighting up his insides, hazel-green eyes looking up at him with… with what?

He growls and shoves the cigarette back into the pack, cramming it into his pocket.

“What does this mean for us?”

Since when is there an “us?”

He falls back onto the roof with a thud, the rough surface making his skin scream with prickling discomfort, but he ignores it. He closes his eyes, tries to quiet the jumble of his thoughts. He unleashes his senses just a bit, driven by instinct and a need to focus on something, anything else, and takes a slow, deep breath. He hears the low murmur of Nate’s voice somewhere below, in the den. Adam’s there too, naturally. He can’t make out the words, but the conversation is easy and familiar, soft with intimacy.

He snorts. The two of them are fucking ridiculous. You’d think they’d have realized they’re basically married a couple centuries ago, and yet…

Felix isn’t hard to locate, though he’s deeper in the warehouse, where the bedrooms are. He’s loud, as usual, so Mason can hear him a bit better, but still he’s not quite close enough to make out words. He focuses a little harder, relaxes his body and exhales slowly. Along with his voice, there’s a light twanging, which eventually strings together into a rhythm. Music? Felix listens to music often, but it’s usually louder, faster-paced. Grates on Mason’s nerves like absolute hell, but this is slower, brighter. And then he hears Juni’s voice, and his senses rush in like a hungry dog spotting a rabbit.

A laugh, low and sweet.

Mason is rolling to his feet and off the roof before he even has a chance to think about it. It’s the work of a few seconds to slip through the window, and he keeps his footsteps light as he slips through the warehouse like a ghost. He passes the den and glances in. Adam and Nate have their heads close together, talking in low voices with files laid out neatly on the coffee table in front of them, two glasses of wine carefully placed a safe distance away from their paperwork. Adam gives him a quick look over his shoulder, and the ever-present tension in them eases somewhat. Mason nods and continues on by.

The twanging music gets louder as he stalks down the stairs, Felix’s bright voice more raucous than ever, but it’s easy enough to tune out when he hears Juni’s answering laugh floating from Felix’s open bedroom door.

“Are you gonna stop heckling me and make a request?” he asks, and Mason can hear the sunny plunking notes of a ukulele under the words, as if the detective is absently plucking the strings as he talks. Mason vaguely recalls Felix triumphantly hauling the little green instrument from underneath Juni's shattered bed frame, scuffed and covered in wet stickers, and Juni sighing sadly at the broken strings.

“Well, what do you usually play?” Felix asks, his bed creaking. Mason can picture him flopping around like a drunk fish, and he has to stifle a snort.

“I mostly just do covers and stuff.” A rustle of cloth, Juni’s shrugging. “I’ve written a few things, but I’m already giving myself heart palpitations performing in front of people, so I think actually performing something I wrote myself would kill me outright.”

“Well, you’re performing for me, aren’t you? And you seem pretty calm.”

“Since when are you people?” Juni snorts.

Felix barks out a laugh. “Rude!”

There’s a bit of a tussle, a discordant twang, and Juni yelps. “Careful, careful! I just replaced these strings, asshole!”

Felix gasps, affronted. “I’m telling Nate you called me that!”

“No, don’t tell Mum!” Juni whines, and they laugh together more.

Mason shifts from one foot to the other, pressing a hand to his stomach as if that’ll help quell the strange feeling there.

“Stop stalling,” Felix prods, and Juni shifts and sighs heavily. “Fine, fine, but don’t make fun of me, or I will cry.”

“Scout’s honor!” Felix chimes, and Mason wonders where the hell he heard that phrase.

They’re both quiet, and then Juni strums at the strings, just dabbling a bit before he actually starts plucking a rhythm. He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he croons, and Mason perks up almost instinctively, sunshine echoing in his ears. Juni’s singing voice, much like his speaking one, is soft and a little breathy, but it warbles with clear nerves. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”

Felix gasps, delighted, and Juni falters for a moment, but doesn’t stop.

“Well, I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way? My guy, I’m talkin’ ‘bout my guy...” Mason slides forward, towards the door as if pulled on a string, and he sees Juni sitting at the end of Felix’s rumpled bed with its blindingly bright sheets, cross-legged with his back mostly to the door, but Mason can see his face in profile. Felix is lying at the head of the bed on his belly, with his chin propped up on his elbows.

His golden eyes flicker to Mason, and he smirks, raising his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out quickly, before Juni notices. Which he likely won’t, eyes closed, dark lashes fanned out across his freckled cheeks.

There’s a smile curling his lips, small but happy, and it only widens when Felix begins snapping in time, laughter coloring the lilting notes. “I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees…” He leans into the chorus, rocking back and forth along with Felix’s snapping. "Well, I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?"

Mason braces a hand on the doorframe, if for no other reason than to stop himself walking into the room. He has no idea what he’d even say, but he knows he’d spook the detective, skittish little human he is, and break whatever odd spell has fallen over them both.

Juni’s voice gets stronger, bit by bit, as he settles, rising with confidence. He hums along to his strumming, and the smile that lights up his face sticks behind Mason’s ribs, along with the words of the song.

As Juni trails off with a dreamily sighed, “I’ve even got the month of May,” Felix claps loudly and cheers, an enthusiastic audience of one. Mason winces back away from the door, scowling and shaking his head.

He should leave. Either leave, or butt in just to watch Juni get all flustered, but something holds him still, keeps him quiet.

“I think I know that song,” Felix says slowly, and Mason doesn’t need to see his face to know the teasing smirk spreading there. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Juni snorts. “Everyone does, Fe. It’s from the 60s.”

“Yeah, but you sang it differently,” Felix presses. “Thinking of someone in particular, were you?”

Mason looks around the door frame just in time to see Juni whack Felix solidly with a pillow. “It was a cover!” he exclaims, his cheeks going ruddy. “A cover of a cover!” He smacks Felix with the pillow again, a solid whump muffling the vampire’s bell-like laughter as it hits him in the face. “Don’t make it weird!”

“I’ve got sunshine,” Felix warbles, snatching the pillow before Juni can swing a third time and hugging it to his chest.

“It’s a cute song!” Juni insists. “I like cute songs! I’ve got a ton I could have sung, but I picked that one, because I heard a cover once that made it about a guy instead of a girl, and you might not be aware of this, Felix, but I am a homosexual.”

Felix’s hand flies to his mouth, amber eyes going comically wide. “No! You? How long were you planning to keep this from me?”

Juni very carefully sets his little green, lovingly restored ukulele to the side for safekeeping before he tries to wrestle the pillow back from Felix so he can hit him again.

Mason figures it’s a good time to take his leave, before Felix decides to use his presence as a scapegoat from the detective’s wrath.

He slips up the stairs, his head heavy, something… just something stirring in him he can’t even begin to parse.

Juni’s soft voice follows him back to the quiet of the rooftop, a gentle strain chasing itself around in his head.

Sunshine on a rainy day...

#the wayhaven chronicles #specialist agent mason #specialist agent m #twc fanfic #felix hauville #f hauville #bc he plays a p big role in this #also background adam/nate bc chaboi is GAY #pidge writes #oc: juniper fenn #i have no excuses for this #ive just been in a big introspection mood for juni lately #so uh #yeehaw?#im not sure how i feel about it but hhfhdhgh #hearkens back to the cheesy ass songfics of my youth at the end there

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lemonysharkbait · 4 years ago

Text

Code of the Hills

Tianshan fanfic, au set in the Ozark region of the U.S.

“Where’s your partner Red?”Guan Shan reigned in his panic a second too late and Click ate it up with a shit eating grin. The pain when it came was delayed, one blessing of being too fucked to walk straight enough if he wanted to. Guan Shan spit a mouth full of blood straight into Click’s leering face. Guan Shan knew his eye would be swollen for a week. If he made it past tonight.

- Warnings: Drug use, violence, dirty cops, lots of cursing, angst -

Read on OA3 for more notes

Guan Shan lapped at the blood pouring from his nose. He couldn’t taste shit, not with his gums numb and Click telling him to take another bump.

“This is Grade A shit Red. Where’d you say you get it from ‘gain?”

Guan Shan took the offered bump – his third in the about fifteen minutes he had been with Click in this fucking dingy-ass laughable excuse for a backroom at the local watering hole. He hadn’t had this much coke in years and it was already fucking with him, just like Click wanted it to.

“Told you being a cop came with perks.” Guan Shan turned and hocked a wad of blood and snot onto the floor.

Click laughed and hit Guan Shan between the shoulder blades with an open-palmed slap that was just north of friendly. “Get this man a whiskey.”

“Did’n think you’d come back te this place Red.”

Guan Shan nodded to the women who proffered him a whiskey and took a gulp.

“Ever the polite man. Sam’s got tits from here to tomorrow and you’re on better behavior than the priest during Sunday service.” Click dropped his voice “Ne’ver believed ‘em but you don’t do yourself no favors Red.”

Guan Shan sucked at his teeth. “Saving myself for Jesus.”

Click burst out into a laughing fit. “Got’ damn Red. You haven’t changed a bit.” He played with the bag of coke idly. “So you got more of this shit?”

“More and then some.” Guan Shan nodded and pulled out a cigarette. He could feel his fingers going unsteady and his words slurring, tongue refusing to cooperate.

Click smiled and it was deadly. “Sure thing Red. Sounds like we have some stuff to talk about. Why don’t you come back with us? We’ll drive you.”

Guan Shan didn’t respond. Just lit his cigarette and let the group of good ‘ol boys half push, half pull him out of the backroom, bantering like old friends, smiling like sharks. He was manhandled out of the bar and into the dark parking lot, shoved into a truck and closed behind the thunk of American steel.

He Tian sat nursing his beer. A tittering group out on a girl’s night tried to grab his attention for a little while but his best sad and broken act had them off and dancing. He was alone with those words playing through his head.

They’re gonna take me to the back. They won’t do anything at the bar so just go in a little while after me. Keep your damn head down. I mean it. No flirting, no stories, no chatting up the locals. No one can remember you were there. You need to be forgettable. Just wait and blend in. They’ll take me to Click’s place.

Follow without them knowing. Shouldn’t be too hard, they’ll be fucked up and won’t be expecting you. Then it’s your call. I don’t know how many there will be. If you can get the situation under control, do it. But if not just leave me. Finding out where this guy is based is more important.

They did come out, just like Guan Shan said. He Tian shrunk as best he could into the corner. Guan Shan’s copper eyes were bloodshot and he was stumbling. The group was rowdy, shoving him with a little too much joy. A cajoling on the sharp edge of vicious. A smear of blood decorated Guan Shan’s upper lip and his pupils were pinpoints.

He Tian waited until they were through the door before slipping out. He caught sight of Guan Shan being shoved into a beater pickup with truck nuts. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself to wait. It wouldn’t do Guan Shan any good to tip them off.

The drive was easy, following the road as it dipped and rose, hemmed in by the thick woods broken only by sudden bursts of sheer white limestone breaking through at odd angles, ragged and proud.

The moon was out and bright enough that He Tian could keep his headlights off and follow at a distance. They drove fast so it was easy to see they were turning when they slowed in a sudden tire-squealing crawl. The sides of their cars brushed the undergrowth creeping over everything.

So this was it. Asscrack of nowhere. Cicadas called out in an unending whine.

Guan Shan didn’t even try to catalogue where they were. He was too fucked up and anyways, Click was twitchy in a way that didn’t bode well for Guan Shan’s health.

They turned onto some hidden road and crawled through a winding path before the trucks stopped outside a meth den. The house was probably nice enough at one point. Dogs barked from somewhere and someone was yanking Guan Shan out of his seat. He was manhandled inside past a living room with a flickering TV into the kitchen.

“Feel like home Red?”

Guan Shan grimaced. “Don’t see why you dragged me here for.”

Click laughed. “You can stop playing dumb boy. This is some goodass shit you brought me, so I’ll thank you for that little gift. But there’s no fucking way that’s what you came out here all the way into the goddamn boones for.”

Guan Shan let one of Click’s men pull his arms behind him and zip tie them together by the wrist. He was too tired and sideways feeling. If he was going to get the shit kicked out of him anyways he might as well cooperate enough to prolong the inevitable.

“See’in as you aren’t saying nothing I’m gonna go out on a big-ass limb and say you agree?” Click said.

Guan Shan didn’t respond.

Click grunted out a laugh and kicked a metal chair over to Guan Shan. “Take a seat Red.”

With a hard stare fixed on Click, Guan Shan set his jaw and sat slowly.

“That’s a good boy. I didn’t think you’d go so easy. You’re either a complete dumbass or you have a death wish.” Click turned to the one guy who had followed them in, a big motherfucker bulked up from beers and red meat. “Tape ‘im down.”

The brute grabbed a roll of duct tape off the gritty counter and dutifully taped each leg to a leg of the chair and ran a few around Guan Shan’s chest and the chair back for good measure. The rip of duct tape and a whining light filled a tense silence.

It had been too long since he’d said something, but it was so hard to form words. The world swam and Guan Shan’s heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest, urged to flutter faster than hummingbird wings by uppers that felt worse than one too many cups of coffee.

Click walked forward and leaned in close, the smell of stale cigarettes hitting Guan Shan’s nostrils like a mule kick to the chest.

“Where’s your partner Red?”

Guan Shan reigned in his panic a second too late and Click ate it up with a shit eating grin.

The pain when it came was delayed, one blessing of being too fucked to walk straight enough if he wanted to. Guan Shan spit a mouth full of blood straight into Click’s learing face. Guan Shan knew his eye would be swollen for a week. If he made it past tonight.

“Oh there it is. There’s our red-headed devil.” Click hacked out a deep laugh that turned into a coughing fit as he wiped the blood off his face with a black paisley handkerchief. Guan Shan glared as best he could and Click just leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette. Silence settled in.

“Bum me a square.” The words came gravely out of Guan Shan’s mouth but he was satisfied that his voice didn’t waver.

Click just laughed again, “I ain’t sitt’en here holding a smoke for you.”

“Gimme another bump then.”

Click’s expression turned sour. “You wanna be high for this Red? You’re a little shit, you know that? ‘Course you know that.” Click leaned forward. “You didn’ think we’d figure out you was with the DEA because you’re,” Click punctuated his words with a well-placed kick, “a dumbass,” another heel kick, the leather of his boots catching the ridges of Guan Shan’s ribs, “‘lil shit.” There was a special type of venom in the last word and the final kick that punctuated it was straight to Guan Shan’s gut.

Whatever was left in Guan Shan’s stomach came up onto the yellowing linoleum floor. The metal chair squealed halfway across the kitchen with the kicks.

Click looked pissed. “You can sing now or later, I don’t give a fuck Red. But we’re gonna get every little bit of information out of your dumb ass about why the fuckin’ DEA is out in the fuckin’ boones bothern’ us good folk.” Click placed his lit cigarette between his lips, nubby yellow crack teeth showing for a moment before he folded his arms and grimaced. “But first we have some other business.”

Click’s gaze flicked up to the mountain of a man that had been idly standing by like he was at a particularly boring church service. Guan Shan’s heart sank.

“Go out there and find ‘im.”

Guan Shan was knee deep into his next lie before he could think about it too hard, stemming panic from working its way in.

“Fuck off Click. I knew you’d be cautious but this is fuck’in overkill. That coke’s real, how’d you think I get it? Ask the DEA all polite-like? Fuck-off man. It’s just you ‘in me and you’re sending Brick House here out there to crash around in the dark chasing after shadows. You’ve been hitt’in the pipe too hard. Melt’n you’re brain and shit.”

Click seemed to consider Guan Shan for a moment and his tall lackey hung between leaving and staying, waiting for the verdict.

“So you admittin’ you’re with the DEA Red?” He took a deep inhale of his cigarette, the cherry lighting up with an audible crackling sound.

“Yeah. How’d you think I get this stuff? We busted couple hundred pounds of the shit I brought you tonight. And no one checks on it after it’s been logged. Everyone in that department is dipp’in into the shit we grab. Usually just for recreational purposes. But I can get you set up with a ‘lil bit here and there. Weed. Crack. Coke. Party pills. We get the big hauls ‘cause we go after the distributors. And there’s extra in it for you if you can give me some tips every once ‘n awhile.”

Guan Shan wasn’t surprised by the fist that connected with his face. He was really gonna look like shit once all this was through.

“You got’ damn motherfucker!” Click fisted his shirt, dragging him and the metal chair forward with a horrendous squeal against the floor.

“Did you just ask me to become an informant for the fucking cops? After everything I’ve done for you Red? Gave you a fuck’in home? Took you in? Then you go dissapear’n and we think you’re dead.” Click was really yelling now, his spit spraying over Guan Shan’s face. “We spilled blood over you Red. And then you show up fifteen-fucking years later looking like the day you disappeared and you have the fuckin’ balls to just think you gonna be welcome back here? You’re dead to us, Red.”

Click turned to mountain man. “Find his fucking partner. He’s lurk’in out there somewhere in the woods.”

“Wait, no, Click I’ll tell you whatever the fuck you want but if he’s out there he’s just look’in for me. He don’ know nothin and it’s not gonna help you much to have to deal with two of us. You’re gon’ have a harder time covern’ up two miss’in people. He ain’t even from around here and you know who they’ll start com’in after first.”

“Oh I know alright,” Click growled and brought his knee up hard into Guan Shan “I know ‘cause you’re here and we seen you come into town.”

Guan Shan was spluttering for breath, gasping, winded as he remembered the fucking truck stop. He Tian kissing him in the beat up Toyota and Guan Shan unwilling to push him off. Static of a station on the radio going in and out and crumpled chip bags crunching as He Tian leaned over the armrest.

Click stilled and Guan Shan lost the thread. Click had flicked open a knife large enough to skin a deer but before Guan Shan could tense the knife was cutting him free from the chair and Click was hauling Guan Shan to his feet.

The knife was back into Click’s pocket before Guan Shan could process what the hell was happening and he shoved roughly out onto the front porch. Moths and June bugs flew through the muggy air outside, circling the porch light. Guan Shan heard the cold click of Click’s gun as he cocked it and pressed the cool metal to the side of Guan Shan’s head.

“Come on out ‘for I splatter your partner’s brains all over my porch.” Click yelled the words into the darkness beyond the porch.

Guan Shan squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. Keep to the plan. Keep to the plan. Start your mother fucking car and get out of here. Get out of here.

His prayers were in vain though. He Tian emerged into the porch light silently, hands up.

–

It had been quiet, which was good. Most of the group had broken off to go party somewhere or pick up more beer and drugs, obviously bored by having their night of partying cut short. That left Click with another giant of a man inside. Easy. He just had to wait for the right moment to get Guan Shan the fuck out of there.

He Tian made a loop of the house, quietly checking if the back door was unlocked or if any windows were open. The house was locked up but again, it wouldn’t be a problem. He just had to wait for one of them to come out for a smoke or grab something from their car.

It was too risky to just break in. He Tian settled in and listened. His fingers itched for a cigarette. He could hear the muffled voice of Click talking. That was good too. Hopefully that’s all they were doing, talking.

He Tian’s first indication that things had gone south was the sound of metal squealing and Click yelling. Someone grunted and retched, a wet splattering sound punctuated by coughs and gasps. He Tian saw red. Breath. Breath. Stay calm and wait. You’ll put him in more danger if you break in now.

He Tian wanted to move, adrenaline beating a tattoo against his veins. He was shaking with it. He Tian dug his nails against his palm, trying to distract his body from the need to move. It was a beat too late when he noticed things had gone quiet.

The front door burst open and He Tian almost bolted for the assholes right then and there. Guan Shan was a bloody mess, barely able to stand up. His eyes were already swelling, purple bruises forming shapes Rorschach would be proud of. His dark shirt was wet with blood and the thin skin above his eyes was split and still flowing.

But despite how much he wanted to raise his own gun and fill these fuckers with enough lead to down an elephant, he couldn’t take the chance. Not with Click pressing the muzzle of agun into Guan Shan’s bloody temple.

“Come on out ‘for I splatter your partner’s brains all over my porch.”

He Tian walked out with his hands up. Guan Shan made a noise somewhere between anger and despair.

He had one chance at this. One chance before the mountain of a man next to Click got to He Tian, patted him down, took his gun and then hauled He Tian inside to share in a few miserable hours as a punching bag before becoming catfish food.

“There you are pretty boy.”

He Tian showed concern, fear, anxiety. Let them mask his face. Let them make Click think he was safe.

“Din’ think I would have such a fun night! Your partner here is a fuck’in dumbass. That’s it, nice and slow.”

He Tian kept eye contact and suddenly, with enough slipping to seem real, tripped. And there it was. With the sudden movement Click reacted before thinking, swinging his gun from Guan Shan to He Tian.

The rest was a blur of instinct and a prayer. He Tian rolled and pulled his gun, aimed and fired.

–

It was over fast. Guan Shan stood stock still, trying not to pull Click one way or the other. It was only after Click slumped down and the mountain man crumpled did Guan Shan realize he was splattered in blood that wasn’t his.

It didn’t matter though because He Tian was there, his hands all over Guan Shan. A quick flick of a knife and Guan Shans hands were free.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

He Tian didn’t respond, simply went about checking Guan Shan over, pulling his shirt up and grimacing at the damage splayed across Guan Shan’s body, head bowed. Guan Shan could feel He Tian’s hands shaking where they balled up in his shirt.

“Hey, hey, come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He Tian’s jaw clenched. “You said they wouldn’t do anything.”

“Well I might have under calculated a few things.”

“A few–” He Tian shuddered, cutting himself off and Guan Shan’s world swooped for a second as He Tian swung him into a bridal carry headed for the car.

“I can carry myself, hey!” He Tian had Guan Shan in the car and was around and in the driver’s seat in one swift motion. It started up on the first try and He Tian was peeling out of the gravel lot and hurtling down the dirt road.

“Whoah, whoah, He Tian, where’s the fire? Slow the fuck down, we still gotta stay low.”

He Tian slammed the car to the stop. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

“Is it your first time? You know, doing that.” The words came out as a raspy wheeze and Guan Shan winced. He definitely had a cracked rib.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s my first time dragging you as a bloody pulp out from a meth house where two motherfucking shit stains were ready to carve you up for entertainment.”

Guan Shan didn’t know why he suddenly felt like fighting but he dug his heels in. “It was our only way in, and now we know Click’s not the one who’s been mixing up the fake pain pills that have been killin’ people.”

A muscle jumped in He Tian’s jaw. The truck lurched forward. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“No we fuckin’ ain’t! Get your head on straight, He Tian, we’ve got a good half hour before the rest of Click’s ‘lil possy comes back from wherever they’ve been gettin fucked up, finds two cold bodies in the dirt and finds me not there and puts two an’ two together.” Guan Shan reached for the cigarettes He Tian kept in the cup holder. “What we’re doin’ is going back to our hotel, packin’ up our shit fast as we can, gettin’ back in this truck and driving as far away from this god forsaken place as we can.”

He Tian didn’t respond. Muggy summer air whipped around them through the open windows.

They rolled into town and Guan Shan relaxed when He Tian turned towards the motel.

“Stay here.” He Tian was out of the truck and headed into the motel before Guan Shan could say anything. He slumped into the seat and lit another cigarette.

Back on the road, orange street lights blurred by as He Tian pushed 100 down the highway. Guan Shan was crashing hard, his whole body ached and he knew tomorrow would be worse. He lit another cigarette, too tired to do anything else, too wired to sleep.

“You’re quitting this case.” He Tian’s voice barely rose above the hum of the car hurtling down the highway.

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this right now.”

“They could of killed you.”

“Yeah, and they coulda killed you too. I told you this isn’t like the city. The hills have their own code and these people live by it. Ain’t anyone coming to help hill folk.”

He Tian snagged the pack of cigarettes, depositing them out of reach in his car door. “So you’ve got to, is that it?”

Guan Shan grunted. “I don’t know He Tian. I just know people are dying and I have connections here and I’m gonna use them so we can stop the son of a bitch who’s been poisoning people.”

The cover of night slipped from around them, the first hints of dawn lightening the sky.

Guan Shan was somewhere between waking and fever dreams when He Tian spoke again.

“So what’s our next move.”

Guan Shan cracked his left eye open, the right one was too swollen to see out of.

“You’re sticking along with this thing? You ‘don seem like you like it much.”

He Tian snorted as though it was obvious. “I just killed two men, Guan Shan, I should think it’s obvious that I’m in this thing.”

Guan Shan closed his eye and hummed. “We’re headed in deep then, to a place where the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Where we’ll be alone. You ready for that?”

“Lead the way Red.”

I’d love to hear your thoughts, comments, questions- tell me what you think!

#19 days #19 days fanfic #dark themes #tianshan #he tian #mo guan shan #depictions of violence #midwestern gothic #set some time before cell phones #Code of the Hills #egregious use of apostrophes #the accent is a hick hill people twang #not a southern accent

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harveywritings92 · 5 years ago

Text

father!Connor x Reincarnated! Modern reader!

Burning and calling out for your dad that's the last thing you remembered when the ceiling collapsed and the flames consumed you, next thing you knew you were freezing your eyes looked around wildly as you took in the surrounding area, this wasn't the streets of [city/town], it was night time and you were in a forest?... and it was winter now? Not not possible it was July, you were sure of it!

*How did I get here?!*

You wondered as you tried to stand but couldn't move you looked to see what was restraining you. and felt your stomach curdled when you saw that you were swaddled in a soot covered blanket next to body of a woman who had her limp arms wrapped securely around your now tiny body, her dead eyes stained with frozen tears as they stared blankly at you it didn't take long for you to register that you were now in the body of a newborn and were very sure this woman is...was your mother.

Struggling between fear and confusion you did the only thing a baby could do in this situation wail at the top of your lungs and hope someone finds you, before a wolf or bear comes around.

Connor's pov

He was returning to the homestead from Boston after ordering some upgrades and repairs for the Aquila, it was getting colder as the night settled snow crunched under the hooves as they trotted down the road home, when the assassin's nose caught a whiff of smoke in the air, he assumed some hunters had made camp somewhere and kept on route when his ears caught a high pitch scream in the distance, at first he thought it was a fox, rabbit or maybe a cougar? But something didn't feel right about it.

Connor's gut felt twisted as he brought the horse to a stop got off and strained his ears to hear through the wind before pinpointing where the scream was coming from and followed it, the screaming slowly turned into a the wails of a baby, causing the hairs on the back of Connor's stand on end as he quickened his pace to the location.

There the assassin was met by a sickening sight as his eyes wildly swept over the remains of still smoldering cabin, he felt bile bubbling up in his throat as the smell of smoke and burning flesh invaded his nose triggering visions of his mother's death as his gaze soon landed on the snow covered body of a woman holding onto a screaming infant.

He stared down at the pair he locked eyes with little one soon Connor eyes started burned with tears as a rogue sob escaped his throat he crouched down and hesitated before his shaking hands gently took the baby from their mother's body, he held the baby close trying to keep them warm as he managed to calmed down investigated the surrounding area, where it became very obvious that the fire was no accident.

Connor eyes noticed a mark on what was left of the walls he ran finger along it felt oily; Bear grease. the fire had started here after someone dumped bear grease around the cabin and lit aflame with the woman and child still inside, the mother's body had marks and what looked like rope stuck to her burns, the fire must've burned through the bindings and she used what all the strength left in her to get her baby out.

Someone wanted them dead, but why? there were footprints leading away from the site; Connor would've followed them, but his concerned gaze went back to the baby who was oddly quiet now and was alarmed at how cold their cheeks felt. The assassin made the wise decision to return to the homestead.

Achilles was not pleased when Connor returned late but his frustration soon turned to confusion and shock when he saw what his student was carrying a baby, his shock was replaced by fear when he noted how blue the child was looking he brought a hand up and felt the their cheek the old man retracted his hand.

"Give me that child, and go take of your robes and shirt sit near the fire" Connor gave Achilles a incredulous look. "Do it" the old man barked before snapping a Faulkner to wake up and go get Dr. Lyle the sailor was confused until he saw the situation sobered up and ran out of the manor like a bat out of hell,

Connor was sitting in front of the fire place as he watched Achilles take the wet blankets and dress off the baby which turned out to be a girl, and handed the unresponsive child to native man as his mentor showed him how to hold her. a the old draped a blanket over them as they waited those few minutes that passed felt like hours.

Achilles mumbled to himself wondering what was keeping the doctor, Connor while kept nervously starring at the baby she wasn't as blue looking anymore, but she was still unresponsive it was unnerving, finally the door open and Faulkner and a sleepy Lyle walked in the doctor was immediately on high alert when he saw the baby in Connor's arms.

"Oh, my what happened?"

"Cabin fire she was the only one alive when I got there."

"Good job at keeping her warm, however she doesn't seem to be breathing too well... may i see her?"

"..."

Connor reluctantly handed the baby over, Lyle carefully held her over his knee and gave her back a few small slaps which caused the native man to jump out of his chair. "What are yo-" the baby suddenly threw up before letting out a wheeze followed a series of small coughs as air filled her lungs, her skin had a more healthier hue now before bursting out crying, doctor White wiped her mouth before handing her back to Connor.

"She was choking the poor thing! must of inhaled a lot of smoke... Your lucky you found her when you did." Connor just hummed as he tried to calm the baby down but failing, Achilles huffed and took her from the young assassin then snapped at him to put his shirt on as he rocked her, the baby instantly quietly down as Faulkner handed Achilles a blanket to cover the baby with.

While Doctor White was instructing Connor to observe the baby overnight to make she was alright which caused a bit of a stir with both mentor and student. "W-Wait your not suggest that I take care of her?!" the young man sputtered as he awkwardly eyed the baby who seemed more alert now.

"Well of course, who else?" Lyle hummed Connor started trying to make up excuses why he couldn’t do that! they don't have a cradle, clothes, how was he supposed to feed her? Achilles pointed at his son's old cradle that was stored under a table which also had some old baby clothes inside, and was sure Prudence wouldn't mind helping with the feeding problem, she's been complaining about making too much milk to the other women.

Connor sighed pinching the bridge of his nose it was clear he wasn't going to win this, he then looked back at the baby who eyes were looking around the den tired and curious, She was small, alone and defenseless he felt his heart throb before sighing. "Alright, I will watch her and will send for help should something happen, thank you doctor." Lyle nodded bidding Connor and Achilles a good night.

[skip through Achilles showing Connor how to dress the baby and put her to bed.]

back to your pov

*What happened?* you thought waking up fully and looking around the room; happy that you were dry and warm, but but exasperated about still being in the dark on where the hell where you were, your e/c eyes scanned the ceiling brows furrowed somehow this room was familiar; you've seen it before, but where? you sighed and struggled to move your head to get a better look around, but your neck refused to move. *damn newborn limbs!* you huffed frustrated as your tiny hand made a fist damming whoever thought it would be a good idea to bring you back as a baby!

The the sound of footsteps and voices talking got your attention. "She's in the library, and didn't make a sound all night." a worried male voice stated, Odd you could've sworn you've heard that voice before, But damn if you can't remember where! the male's voice was followed by a reassuring female voice. "Babies can differ from one and another, I sure she's just fine." Goddamn you knew that voice too! *Just where the hell am I?* you babbled loud and annoyed as the voices were now in the room with you.

"See? she's chatting up a storm now!" the woman's voice exclaimed as a large shadowy figure came into your sight, You felt kind of scared at first at the man's imposing figure before he leaned in giving you a better look at his face ,you jaw dropped in a form of a toothless grimace when you realized who it was. *Holy Shit It's Connor Kenway,* then the second realization *Holy shit I'm in a video game!* of course the only thing that came out of your mouth was an nonsensical babble.

the assassin hummed at the sound before he carefully took you out of the cradle and presented you to Prudence "Aw, look at you! hello pretty one.~" She cooed with big smile the second she saw you and took you from Connor. *why was she here?* you thought not seeing Connor leave as the farmer sat down in a chair you awkwardly watched the new mother [Hunter's two moths older than you.] lifted her shirt up presenting her breast to you *oh...okay." You probably would've fussed or resisted but your empty stomach gurgled leaving you no choice but to got to town.

[Skip, after feeding time, and 3rd pov]

Prudence was soon joined by Diana and Catherine who were cooing and coddling at the two babies sitting on the couch next to each other as Warren had dropped Hunter off fawned over you too before returning to work, said boy looked down right confused to see another baby for the first time, while You were having an existential crisis about your current situation which the women giggled at as they talked about you two becoming friends, sharing clothes, toys, extra blankets they had for You, however their meeting was soon interrupted by Connor arguing with Achilles.

"My answer is no, she can't stay here!"

"Funny you didn't have a problem about it last night, old man!"

"Don't be a hypocritical and That was an emergency!"

"Well, this is an emergency as well, someone wants that child dead and I intend to find out who! So until then she stays!"

Connor's decision as final causing Achilles let an annoyed bellow before seemingly leaving the manor to cool off, there was an a tense silence filled the air as Connor's foot steps came upstairs and he appeared in the library doorway and awkwardly stared at the women who starring stunned at the native man.

"Ah, I apologize you all had to hear that." he coughed before looking at you and Hunter sitting on the couch you were being propped up by pillow while Hunter was on his belly starring than up at Connor confused while his mom and the women found their voices mainly questions as to how exactly did you come into Connor's care?

If reader is of native decent:

[At First they thought you were his child as it appeared you were a native as well, your skin had a similar maroon tone like his, but at a second glance it seemed getting a bit lighter/darker than his, also you shared no facial features that resembled Connor's what so ever, your hair looked black, but they could see it was falling out and patches of [Blond,Ginger,Brown.] hair was growing back in it's place, and it's type was turning out more [Wiry,Coarse,Curly,Wavy.] then Connor's and you're eyes were [Blue,grey,amber,green,hazel,brown] it became increasingly obvious that you were half or at least have some native in your bloodline.]

English,Hispanic Italian,Asian,African. descent:

It was obvious you weren't his child as your skin was too/had [fair, bronze, marigold, or chestnut ] tones to it and your eyes were [blue/green/gray, black, hazel] and your hair was looking too curly/wavy/straight [red/blond/brown/black hair, and your facial features showed a clear sign you were of [English,Hispanic Italian,Asian,African.] descent... that and the fact Connor would've told at least told one person in town (Norris) that he was seeing someone and was going to be a father, the native man answered as truthfully as he could.

The women's maternal instinct were now on high alert and stated if he was going to be this baby's guardian he was going to need help and started giving Connor child rearing advice and teaching him how to change her nappies, and assured him that they watched her if he had to go on another exposition, Connor thanked them before Diana realize they didn't know what the wee one's name was.

Connor looked down at you for a few moments thinking hard before a ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Y/n. Her name is Y/n." all the women cooed and started greeted you by name, meanwhile you were reeling in annoyance. "Seriously? " you huffed blowing a raspberry at Connor who blinked before wiped up the drool dribbling down your chin as a result.

*I get reincarnated and you give the same name I've always had, you couldn't think of something cooler?* your e/c eyes glared daggers at hoping he'd hear you; of course he couldn't hear you or your complaints, guess you'll just have to have to live with it, what could go wrong?

#connor kenway x reader #assassin's creed 3 #davenport homestead #achilles davenport #assassin's creed imagine #fanfiction #dad!Connor kenway #reincarnated au #ratohnhaké:ton

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

Text

Fond memories

This was prompted on the Cyberpunk discord by Inquisitive! Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 | Ship: V/Johnny

When V arrived at the narrow street the client had specified to meet up at, they were a little over an hour early. They had planned in more time for scouting the place first as usual, but that had taken them less time than first anticipated. The street was almost deserted, the whole area around it filled with apartments that were inhabited by those who could afford the city – neither poor nor rich but also the part of the population with the lowest crime rate. The small market next to it made it the perfect place to have an undisturbed talk while still keeping a low profile to any onlookers.

All in all, it meant waiting for V. Not one of their favourite activities, but also not the worst that could have happened here. They found a crate on the ground that looked at least mostly clean and sat down, leaning back and absent-mindedly keeping an eye out for any person approaching or looking their way. They were sitting there for about ten minutes, when suddenly a familiar feeling smell wafted over. They couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from, but they felt their stomach grumble as it was definitely the smell of freshly cooked food. They had smelled it before, but couldn’t remember in what context, only that it must have been a happy occasion as the memory of it was fond and V smiled faintly.

As if to interrupt that momentary happiness, Johnny appeared out of nowhere. V had been ready to sink back in on themselves, sigh and wait for the cocky bastard to disappear again, but something threw them off. Johnny wasn’t looking at them for once but towards the market with a similarly fond smile. V shook their head and groaned. ‘Is that one of your memories again?’ ‘Could be’, the engram answered absent-mindedly. ‘You may not know it, but not far from here there was a snack stall once that smelled just like that. Best food in Night city.’ V took in the scent more intentionally and frowned. ‘No, actually I think I do. Used to crash there a few times as a kid’ ‘We should go see if it’s still the same’, Johnny suggested, and V could feel his excitement.

V thought about it but shrugged and stood up in the end. They still had time until the client would be here and for once Johnny didn’t curse left and right. So, V followed the construct to the little shop, really not more than a snack bar with a few small tables. It was far from cosy but promised a refuge if you stumbled through the city drunk at 3 AM. And the food smelled heavenly.

V sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter and Johnny joined them on the empty one besides them. Looking at the menu, V smiled as their eyes fell on the mid-prized ramen they used to eat as a teenager running the streets unknowing their dangers and feeling like the world belonged to them. As they still had dreams and completely confident, they would reach them. ‘Sounds like a good time.’ V looked at the ghost next to them disbelievingly. Something genuinely nice coming from him of all persons? ‘Yeah, I know. Shocking’, he huffed and pointed over the counter. ‘Someone wants to take your order, V.’

They looked up and threw the woman an apologetic smile, ordering their food and watching how it was freshly made. Well as fresh as it was possible with mass produced noodles of unclear origin and scop-paste mixed into the soup to give it at least some nutritional value. But it was far better than the kibble from their childhood and that might be mostly why they remembered the smell so intensely. ‘I used to come here too. When I was still alive.’ V didn’t really indulge him with an answer, but at the same time didn’t show him where to stick those words, so quiet listening was already better than most of their talks. ‘Back when Samurai was still just a small band begging to play in some shady bar. We only just started and used to crash here after a gig. Good times.’ V received their bowl and plucked some chopsticks to start eating. It wasn’t good by any means objective, but nostalgia and the memories it brought up from two lives did their part making it the best goddamn ramen they had ever eaten. ‘Hard to think you consider something “good times” when you didn’t get to blow up something’, V commented while hastily eating only pausing to chew. ‘Music is…’ Johnny shook his head and looked away to the street. ‘Ah, fuck, why am I even bothering explaining it to some braindead merc, literally a living corpse…’

V sighed. They knew Johnny was just a program, the remnants of a person invading their brain and killing them slowly but surely. But it was easy to forget when the Rockstar-slash-terrorist sat next to them, his memories sometimes as vivid to them as if they were their own. V felt the way Johnny thought of his music: A desperate attempt at venting what the corporations had done to him? Maybe, but also a means of rebellion in a world that didn’t care, that crushed a single person and their needs like an ant on their path to money, fame and power. Johnny was an asshole. Someone who – ironically similar to the corpos – put himself first, the rest of the world second. He was someone who was blinded by their rage and vengeance and narcistic worldview. But somewhere, on a deeper level, V understood him. ‘Must feel like I’m fucking with your head if you come to that conclusion.’ It was spoken drily, but his tone had changed to something a tidbit more friendly. Or tired? ‘Well, no one knows how this shit works’, V commented. ‘Could be you already overwrote my mind. Could be that even a bad person can have logical reasons for their actions.’ ‘Talking philosophy, V? Looks bad on you. People that do so usually have a brain and use it.’ ‘Shut up.’

And there they were again. Shoved into a dead end of silence, left to their own thoughts that were automatically broadcasted to the other with only their unwillingness to speak about it as a fake façade of privacy. And worse, V felt bad about it for some reason. Neither of them were here on their own volition. Silverhand was dead, killed fifty years ago, soul pulled out of his body to waste an eternity in an endless incorporate cold. And V? V should have been just another body washed up in the see of mercenaries trying to make a name for themselves in a city that forgot them in a second. And maybe, just maybe, now it could be their chance to change something. If not in the world, then at least for the one of them that survived. V almost expected the construct to speak up at that thought, but Johnny stayed silent.

‘What did you eat when you were here?’, they tentatively asked, ready to regret the question immediately. ‘Thought I should shut up.’ ‘I have fifteen minutes until I have to meet up with the client. Either we talk or spend the time in silence.’ They lifted the bowl up and downed the water to get back to pick out the remnants of the noodles on the bottom. ‘The Pad Thai here is amazing. The way the shrimp taste you can almost forget they aren’t real.’ ‘Sounds good’, V mumbled, downing the rest of the soup and paying for their food.

‘I think I’ll try that next.’

#Cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #v/johnny #johnny/v #V #Johnny Silverhand #kinda going with the headcanon that Johnny was a kid soldier because I liked that post #prompt was sensory memory and neither knows whose memory it is

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ghostyprince · 5 years ago

Note

How about "You smell nice." for a fluff prompt - DoneGhosting

@doneghosting Thanks for the prompt! I hope you like this.💖

Ryan doesn't mean to mention it, he doesn't even mean to notice it, really. But Shane must have started using a new cologne or body spray or whatever because he's been smelling especially nice lately.

Ryan can't really pinpoint the scent exactly, there is something peachy, infused with vanilla. He likes it a lot though, is the thing. He thinks it fits Shane especially, not to mention the fact it's so out of the blue. Very on-brand for him, to spice things up and roll with it for a while. Like that awful mustache.

When he first showed up like that, to the set of Unsolved, Ryan was admittedly distracted the whole entire time, stuttering through his script way more than he usually would. Every time Shane gestured with his hand, he wafted another whiff of that wonderful peachy smell to Ryan's direction.

It's like it was clinging to Shane's clothes, to Shane's skin, his entire being and it was driving Ryan a little crazy.

It also made him feel kind of creepy. Being attracted to Shane, having a crush on him, in fact, was one thing. But there is no way Ryan would be so deeply in love with him that such a small thing like Shane impulsively changing up his self-care products would affect Ryan this goddamn much, right?

Well, no. It really affects him and it's increasingly becoming more and more of a problem. Because Ryan did try to keep quiet about it. He bottled all that shit up real good.

He resisted the urge to just press his face into Shane's neck and breathe him in because that would be *weird*. The desire to touch Shane's hair hit him up even more often than before too, but that was it, he's been good, not acting up on all of that.

Who is he kidding, he wants to touch Shane everywhere. Not just in the fun, sexy time way.

He is so fucked.

He knows he is, precisely after Shane pulls him into a particularly long hug that week. Ryan honest to God does not know how he got through that situation acting like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn't half-hard by the time he got home later that evening because he could still smell Shane on himself.

His head was swimming when Shane let go of him, Ryan's whole being was filled with how incredible he smells. He couldn't help but wonder if Shane would taste like that too. Ryan knew he wouldn't, that's ridiculous, but a man can daydream.

They were in the process of shooting a Watcher Weekly when Ryan apparently couldn't take it anymore. His brain to mouth filter fucked off to somewhere this afternoon, probably because of the chill nature of these filming sessions.

They're close to wrapping up and he's feeling all loose but bubbly at the same time. So, when Shane leans over him to put his mug on the table next to the couch and that peachy, whatever it is that Shane uses hits his nose, Ryan obviously gets flustered as all hell. Resulting in that, he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

"You smell nice."

And to be honest, he said some weird-ass shit both on and off camera lately, getting bold with his very obvious flirting, since they always laughed it off. Shane never took it seriously, which yes, hurt Ryan's feelings a little, but maybe he wasn't ready to face the reality of Shane actually flirting back, or for real rejecting him.

Shane isn't laughing now, however. He freezes for a second and meets Ryan's gaze, still half-draped over him.

Ryan might just feel his lungs lock up, and that is really ironic because Shane is so close, he could have another whiff of him, but Ryan isn't sure he can even breathe at all at the moment.

His whole world halts to a stop for a second, even though in reality it's probably not that serious. And then Shane is giving him this small smile, almost smug like he's been waiting for Ryan to break, there is a bit of lazy satisfaction to it but it's gone in an instant, leaving Ryan dumbfounded, and wondering if it was even there in the first place.

There is some awkward laughter on Steven's part. Shane too laughs it off this time, gives a Look to the camera and breathes out a quiet "okay", before moving onto another topic, easily. But Ryan instantly knows most of his private little moment with Shane won't make the cut.

"You do smell nice," Ryan tells him after they wrapped up the shoot because he can never let things go. And maybe he's too curious to receive a proper answer from Shane.

"We all can't smell like 'Sport' and 'Extreme'" Shane comments, complete with air quotes, shrugging off the compliment.

Ryan snorts out a laugh, but he doesn't want to let Shane off the hook just yet. He went this far, it would be stupid to back out now. "I was wondering what was it. It's uhh very fruity. New shampoo?"

"It's a little something I got from Sara," Shane says, choosing his words carefully, and Ryan really wants to know what that's all about.

"A little something," Ryan repeats, knowing full well Shane can see the cogs turning in his head so he explains before Ryan could even ask the question. Another reason why they work so amazingly.

"A perfume of sorts."

"Well, it's nice. Even though you're weirdly making a big deal out of it." Ryan grins at him, half-heartedly but he can't tear his gaze away from Shane's eyes. Especially because Shane is slowly stepping into his space and Ryan forgets to breathe again.

Now that they're standing flush against each other, Ryan realizes just how much he has to crane his neck to look up at him properly. It sends an unexpected, but welcome shiver down Ryan's spine.

"I think it's you who makes a weirdly big deal out of it, Ryan," Shane says, lips curling into a smile. Ryan's skin burns under his gaze.

He continues before Ryan could search the part of his brain that didn't turn into jello yet. "Do you wanna know why what Sara gave me is special?"

"Why is it special?" Ryan asks eventually, voice scratchy like he hadn't had a drink in a while, like they've been standing there, right next to their desks for ages while the others slowly filtered out.

"You see, she said something about how it would only smell really strong to the person that has a romantic interest in me, let's say."

Ryan's eyebrows climb up to his hairline and he can definitely feel his face heating up now. It only serves to make Shane's smile wider. That's a good sign, right?

"And you out of all people believe in that?"

"No, not at all." He says and Ryan starts wheezing, breaking the moment because he can't help it. Shane holds up a finger, to continue as Ryan quiets down, "But, you were still all over me all week and it would've been entertaining to watch if I wasn't waiting for you to say something."

"You could've just asked me out, dumbass." Ryan huffs, but his smile is bright, matching Shane's. He has no doubts now.

"I could've. I still could, actually. But why didn't you?" Shane asks, amused and it's a valid question. It's also one that Ryan doesn't feel like answering now. Instead, he grabs hold of Shane's collars and he already knows what's coming when Ryan drags him down, still having to raise on his tiptoes to reach Shane's lips.

It really isn't the best kiss either of them had, they mostly just press their smiles against each other, but it's perfect.

Ryan says after, eyes bright with excitement. More because Shane just kissed him, for real, than the magic but it's a close second. Shane sighs.

"You know, I think that perfume really was magical, maybe we're onto something here.”

"No, Ryan, she just got tired of me pining and moping about you. It's nothing but a placebo."

"Okay, but what if it was real? All week, I've been-" Shane cuts him off, by cupping his cheeks in both of his big hands and Ryan has never been happier to shut up as he melts into the kiss.

They can argue about it later, over some fancy dinner, maybe.

#shyan #skeptic believer #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #fanfiction #i got so many cute prompts #i'll fucking spoil ya'll in the next few weeks #anonymous #anon #answered #asks

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springday-aus · 5 years ago

Text

SVT’s Wonwoo: Daytime Scares

—

Fic Written by: Admin Grandma of @springday-aus

Moodboard Link: created by Admin Grandpa

Main Characters: Y/N [fem. reader] and Seventeen’s Jeon Wonwoo

Other Characters: OCs [Ae Jae, Mi Jeong, Yoojin, and Minjae], Chaeyoung (BlackPink), Yongsun (Mamamoo), Seventeen [Seungkwan and Mingyu]

Genre: fluff, romance, comedy, college!Wonwoo

Type: one-shot writing piece

Word Count: approx. 11.6k

Plot Summary: Wonwoo is nothing more than an attractive stranger in your ethics class. You have no relation with him whatsoever, but that changes when you suddenly have a nightmare that he tries to kill you. That’s a whole level of psychoanalyzing you would rather not dive into. But now things get weirder when he’s starting to talk to you.

→ Based on the AU prompt: “I had a dream that you tried to kill me and now I’m scared of you”

Sleepovers typically mean movies, gossip, and face masks. It’s a fun time to be with your friends and it’s good for lowering stress after midterms. The only level of stress here is would be finding a movie to watch—which probably should have been selected beforehand. But, in your defense, it was hard enough to schedule this hang-out; who has the time to actually schedule the activities?

So, right now, you lay comfortably on the carpeted floor of Ae Jae’s studio apartment with Mi Jeong. You two are on your phones, trying to find a movie to watch. Meanwhile, Yoojin scrolls through her laptop—connected to the projector—browsing through her Netflix account.

“What about Hustlers?” Minjae asks.

“I could really use some J.Lo right now,” you say with wiggling eyebrows.

“Ugh, we can all use a little more J.Lo,” Mi Jeong says.

“That movie is too recent,” Yoojin says. “We can’t find that on a streaming site.”

“Hello?” Ae Jae says. “Have you heard of Dailymotion?”

“Do you want me to just pull up one of those illegal websites?” Minjae asks.

Yoojin turns around to face her. “Ma’am, that’s called pirating.”

“Exactly.”

Mi Jeong laughs at them. Yoojin gives her a pointed look, but you all know it’s no bad intentions.

You set your phone down and sit up from your previous position. “Might as well. We can probably browse through the other movies and figure out some other options to choose from.”

“What I’m hearing is,” Ae Jae says, “is that we don’t have to pay to watch these new movies.”

Yoojin rolls her eyes and moves out of the way of her laptop. “I guess we have nothing to lose.”

“No fear of the viruses?” you ask.

“Potato, potato,” Minjae says.

Yoojin shrugs. “Fire away, Minjae.”

You watch her practically jump over from her previous spot to the TV to type in one of her illegal sites, which you may or may not have frequently used—thanks to her. You can only laugh at her antics.

It’s nice to be with your friends again. It’s been a while since you had properly sent time with them. With the assignments and overlapping work schedules, you’ve all kind of distanced yourselves from one another and, with midterms coming up, things were just piling higher. After midterms week finished, when things calmed down, you and your friends aligned your schedules to catch up with one another.

But who knew it would take nearly two hours to figure out what to watch? Granted, one of the flaws within your friend group is the fact that most of your friends (you included) are incredibly indecisive.

As Minjae moves from one page to the next, everyone else silently scans the movies presented in front of them.

“The live-action Lion King is out,” Mi Jeong says. “That could be an option.”

“Hm,” you say. “I’m pretty sure it’s just the same as the original one.”

“It is,” Minjae says. “But we can just put it on a list of things we could watch. We can still look.”

“Let’s just do that,” Yoojin says.

About ten movie pages (and a list of six possible movies to watch) in, Minjae gets into the horror movie section. You tense up from the movie covers—each one making your stomach twist in apprehension. The one thing each one of your friends know is that you get easily scared, which means you dodge horror movies like the plague.

“Oh, what about It: Chapter 2?” Ae Jae asks.

You start to whine, realizing where this is going. “Nooo.”

You’re ignored.

“I still haven’t watched the first one,” Minjae says.

“What?” “That was literally everywhere.” “How did you manage to miss one of the biggest horror movies?”

Minjae shrugs off the questions. “I just never got to it.”

“It’s a good movie,” Mi Jeong says. “Right, (Y/N)?”

You scowl at her. “No, it’s not.”

Yoojin snorts. “You probably didn’t even watch it.”

“Yeah.”

“Since (Y/N) and I haven’t watched it,” Minjae says. “Should we just watch it?”

“NOOO—”

Everyone ignores you.

“Since it’s kind of old,” Ae Jae says. “They’ll probably have it in higher quality.”

“NOOOO—”

“You’re probably right,” Yoojin says. “Oh, 1080hd. That’s fancy.”

“GUYS. IS ANYONE GOING TO LISTEN TO ME?”

“I found it!”

You let out a long sigh, kissing a month’s worth of sleep away. You mumble under your breath. “Guess no one cares about my well being and health.”

You move yourself to properly lay between Mi Jeong and Minjae, throwing another pillow down. All three of you are on the carpeted floor with too many pillows to count. Ae Jae moved herself and now, she lies on her bed with Yoojin. A blanket is placed on your head and shoulders, ready for cover whenever Pennywise’s face appears on the screen.

You’ve never wished for poorer eyesight until now. You will never understand the trolls that found this clown attractive. A shudder runs down your spine, seeing his face flash in the lightning from the sewer. You quickly pull the blanket over your head to erase the image.

You feel a couple of tugs.

Mi Jeong’s pulling on it. “Jesus Christ, it’s just a clown!”

“John Wayne Gacy was just a clown too and he turned out as a murderer. This one just happens to be supernatural!”

Minjae starts to tug down the blanket as well. “Be apart of the friend group!”

“NO!”

A pillow is flung towards you, in courtesy of Yoojin, who yells down at all of you. “Be quiet!”

“I want new friends.”

It’s 3am—you’ve all moved on from It and onto some generic cartoon movie. You were the main advocate for another movie, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrific images Pennywise provided. Mi Jeong and Minjae are both asleep on each side of you—both with pore strips still attached on their noses. Yoojin snores lightly from Ae Jae’s bed, whereas Ae Jae is up with her elbow propping up her head.

“Hey,” she says.

“What?”

“You up?” She gives you a teasing smile.

You roll your eyes at her. “This is your fault. Of course, I’m up.”

“What? You really can’t sleep because of the movie?”

You stare at her, but refuse to actually move. “Believe it or not, terrifying images of a killer clown that’s telling me I’ll float isn’t a good sleeping mechanism.”

She opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again, once the words come to her. “They help Mi Jeong sleep.”

“She’s got a different way of thinking.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” Ae Jae says. “Do you just want a melatonin instead?”

You’ve got nothing to lose. “Sure.”

She manages to get up, without waking up Yoojin, and walks over to the bathroom. She opens the cabinet, looks through it, and pulls out her melatonin gummies. She pops the lid open, walks towards you, and hands it over. “Take two and you should be asleep in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks.” You take a couple, as she advises, and hand the jar back to her. You slowly chew on them, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you. The images start to pass like a blur and you can’t retain what you’ve just watched.

About twenty minutes later, your eyelids start to droop, feeling the melatonin kick in. You begin to feel a bit tired, so you fully close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

You find yourself in a sewer, blindly moving through a lightless tunnel—with no clue as to how you ended up there. It’s dark, you note to yourself, and it smells foul. The muddy water splashes with each step and it rises as you go through, practically filling your boots. There’s a mist as well, blocking nearly half of your sight of the tunnel. You try to squint through the fog, trying to make out what’s ahead.

You’re able to see a small light at the end. As if you had no control over your body, you run towards it—but it never gets any bigger. You can feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest as your legs keep you running.

But then you slip.

You swear you had felt a pull on your leg, but you couldn’t tell due to the murkiness of the water. You end up on your hands, your lower half is soaked, still in the water—you can’t even make out your reflection. You look closer at it, trying to see what could be underneath it. Suddenly, a hand pushes your head down.

The dirty water fills up your nose and you struggle to escape from this person’s hold on you. As you’re submerged, you hear it. The familiar voice, but you can’t pinpoint where you’ve heard it.

“Can you float?”

You freeze, hearing those words.

The hand lets go and you resurface, taking in a deep breath of much needed air. You look up at your tormentor, who looks down at you with a smirk. His teeth are sharpened, shining with the little light of the tunnel. His eyes are dark and long eyelashes curl on top of his eyelids. Raven-black bangs stick to his forehead—from sweat or water—you couldn’t tell. You look up a bit further, spotting the deviled horns on his head.

You put it together.

It’s Wonwoo. But, what’s he doing here?

He tilts his head at you, pitying you as if you were a lost kitten. His lips fully curl from a smirk to a sinister smile. He lowers his head closer to you.

“Can you float?” he asks.

You don’t have the words to answer him; you don’t think you can find any.

He asks again. “Can you float?”

Before you say anything, he shoves your head underneath once more.

It’s been two weeks since the sleepover (and the last time you had proper sleep). Classes have started up again, but you’re already tired. It isn’t even from the goddamned workload (which you are definitely not doing). Since the sleepover, you’ve had the same recurring nightmare over and over. Same place, same face.

Right now, you sit at a table in the dining hall with a single coffee mug that’s already empty. You wait for your friends to arrive at the table, tapping away at your phone, trying to make yourself busy.

“What’s up,” Chaeyoung says. She takes the seat in front of you and sets her plate on the table. She spots the sad coffee mug and looks between it and you, before asking. “Is that all you’re getting?”

You set your phone down. “No, I also had a bowl of ice cream earlier.”

“(Y/N), it’s noon.”

“Sugar means energy.”

She lets out a sigh—not surprised, just disappointed. You would think after knowing you for so long, she would get used to your horrible eating habits. She is your meal buddy after all. She takes a stab at her food. “So how was your mid-semester break?”

“I think we both know that break is a joke.”

“Still.”

“Well, I got to meet up with some of my old friends, spent some time with family—you know, all the good stuff.” You lean on the table with an elbow propped up and a hand underneath your chin. “How was yours?”

“Eh, I did the same thing. It was nice to chill for a bit, but then I remembered how many readings I have to do.”

You force a smile at her. “I haven’t done any of mine.”

She throws her head back with a laugh. You start laughing too, at yourself and at her.

Yongsun comes around to the table. She sets down another cup of coffee for you, which you previously asked for, and her own plate as she sits herself next to you. She looks between you and Chaeyoung. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really,” you say. “Just talking about how oh-so productive we’ve been since break.”

She gives you a bitter look with regret evident on her face “That break is a joke. I got nothing done either.”

“Glad to know everyone is on the same track.” You take a sip of your coffee.

“No offense,” Chaeyoung says. “But you look really tired. Are you okay?”

Yongsun laughs, nearly choking on her food. “It’s the exams creeping up, that’s why her eye bags are a darker shade.”

Your eyebrows slightly rise. “Not wrong, but doesn’t mean I don’t feel attacked.”

“Are you having trouble sleeping again?” Chaeyoung asks.

Yongsun takes a closer look at you. “You know, now that she’s said something. She’s not wrong. Are you okay?”

You sigh and take another big sip of the coffee. “My friends made me watch It.”

“That’s all?” Chaeyoung asks.

“Kind of.” You set the coffee down and lay your head on the table. “I’ve just been having the same nightmares for a while now and I can’t sleep.”

“What do you see?” Yongsun asks.

“Why? Are you going to psycho-analyze them like you do with the others?” Chaeyoung asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh my god.”

“Now,” Yongsun says. She fully turns to you, pointing at you with her spoon. “What happens in your nightmares?”

You hesitate. “The nightmare overall…. it makes sense but there’s a piece that I can’t figure out.”

“What?” Chaeyoung asks. “You know what, just explain the entire dream and we’ll figure it out.”

You scratch the back of your ear, feeling a bit sheepish of the whole thing. “Do you guys know Jeon Wonwoo?”

There’s a silence, but you can practically see them racking their memory for him. You look between them, seeing if either one of them would know him. It’s ideal that they don’t, but if they do, they could probably picture it better.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” Yongsun mutters under her breath. She speaks louder the second time. “That name is so familiar but I can’t pinpoint where.”

Chaeyoung looks confused as well. “I get that. I feel like I know him too.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

You let out a long sigh. “Because my nightmares are essentially him just trying to kill me.” You don’t take notice of Yongsun’s frantic typing on her phone. “I don’t understand why it’s him specifically.”

Chaeyoung hums, nodding along to what you’re saying. “Maybe it’s just a random face from memory—you could have just seen his face and now it’s stuck. Is he ugly or something?”

“He’s in my ethics class,” you say. “And he’s definitely not ugly.”

“So he’s attractive and trying to murder you?”

“Mmhm, basically.”

“Is there a kink you aren’t sharing with us?”

“No, who wants to be murdered?”

“There’s lots of college kids who want to be murdered, (Y/N),” Yongsun says.

“Okay, fair point.”

“In other news though.” Yongsun pauses and sets her phone down for all three of you to see. “I found him and I can confirm that he is hot.”

You take a peek at the Facebook profile—the familiar face is in the little profile image and you shudder out of habit. You move away from the phone, feeling uncomfortable from his face. “Yup, that’s him.”

“Jesus,” Chaeyoung says. She grabs the phone and zooms in on the image. “This is the face you’re seeing? How can someone look like that?”

You grimace. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Yongsun asks.

“I sit in the front, far away from him, so I don’t have to look at him anymore.”

“What do you think this means?” Chaeyoung asks.

“From my perspective,” Yongsun says. “Maybe you’re scared of how attractive he is.”

You and Chaeyoung squint at her, both not understanding. She continues. “This can mean a lot of things. I need the context.”

You try to recollect your dream memories. It isn’t hard, considering the fact that you’ve had the same nightmare for a couple of weeks. Although, there have been odd additions every once in a while. Just last night, you were on an empty road rather than a sewer. Sometimes there was the pile of children there and would start floating in front of you. Wonwoo stood in front of it, just staring at it, before turning his head to you to start shoving you into the water.

You shrink in your seat. You feel like throwing up.

“Well?” Yongsun asks. “Any details?”

You grimace again. “I would rather not share while we’re eating.”

Chaeyoung looks at you with a bit of worry in her eyes. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” You drown the rest of your now-cold coffee down. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like Wonwoo’s a friend. How hard could it be to avoid him?”

Another restless week passes and you’re convinced your sleeping schedule will never bounce back. You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up somehow—it’s your third cup of coffee of the day and it’s done nothing for you.

It’s 11:20am and class is supposed to start in ten minutes. The class is already half full of students. Everyone else fiddles with their phones, or talks to others about weekend plans. You sit in your seat with a laptop out, fully blanking out, but attempting to stay awake. Granted, you can just ditch, but attendance counts and if your GPA is below 3.0, you can kiss that scholarship goodbye.

You groan from the thought of being in this class for an hour. You lay your head on the table, feeling the cold table pressed on your cheek, and closing your eyes for just a moment.

Suddenly, a chill comes over you and you feel more awake than ever. You open your eyes, only to see Wonwoo walk in. His backpack is slung over one shoulder; he wears a soft, black cardigan that’s tugged on his hands to form sweater paws. He has his hair down, tousling through his bangs with his long fingers. He looks like such a soft boy.

Despite his boyish looks, you felt your body physically react. Chills run up your spine and you felt the hairs on your arms raise. You feel more alert than you’ve been in weeks. You quickly sit up and straighten out your back at his presence. That’s right: you’re in ethics. You always forgot, until you came to class, see him and the nightmares become daytime horrors.

You let out a sigh. Somehow, you feel more exhausted than before, despite feeling more awake in Wonwoo’s presence. Once the professor arrives, she immediately starts her lecture. Frankly, you can’t even remember what she’s talking about. It all goes in one ear and out the other. You simply type away, your note page expanding as each minute passes.

An hour eventually passes and you let out a breath of relief.

“Alright class,” she says. “Remember for the next class, we will be working on our papers, so bring those laptops fully charged and be prepared for discussion.”

Everyone, including yourself, groans.

“We need to start preparing for the final and, from my previous feedback, I hear this is really helpful. So, prepare yourselves.” Your professor shuts off the monitor and starts to shut her books. “Now, get out.”

No one had to be told twice; everyone practically floods out of the room, ready to take a nap or eat, or whatever else college kids do. With the combination of your previous exhaustion and the lecture, you were moving slower than usual, not wanting to tire yourself out further. You could feel your body nearly shutting down again. You close your eyes once more as you rotate your neck around. Once again, you feel the chills creep up your back.

You follow your instincts and open your eyes, spotting Wonwoo from the corner of your eye. Unknowingly, you flinch, immediately looking away from him. He tries to smile in your direction on his way out, but you move your body away from him, trying to look preoccupied as you shove your books into your bag.

Once he leaves, you let out a long sigh you didn’t realize you held in. Resting your head on the table, you close your eyes—only to see the images of Wonwoo from your nightmares with devil horns. You sit back up, rubbing your eyes and trying to shake the sight of him out of your mind.

This is going to be harder than you thought.

“Paging Sleeping Beauty, are you awake?”

You slowly sit up from the library table, trying to keep your eyes awake as you lean on your hand. “Yes, sir. I am physically present.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“When am I ever okay?”

“Fair.” He sets down his books in front of you and takes a seat. “How much did you get done?”

“I just finished the draft and took a lil nap.”

“In a public space?”

“I didn’t get robbed. I’m fine.”

He blinks at you, shakes his head and tries to move on from the odd comment. “Anyways,” he says, pulling out his laptop. “I finished my essay earlier during class, so.”

“So it might be garbage?”

“Hell no.” He opens the laptop, mindlessly moving the mouse around. “I’m just saying, consider the conditions when you read this. I was in a highly stressed environment.”

Seungkwan and you have the same professor for ethics (just at different times), so it only made sense to work together for this paper. You two knew each other from a previous class and bonded over a mutual friend of yours, Soonyoung. Obviously, suffering is the only way to bond with other college students, hence your blossomed friendship with Seungkwan.

You rub your eyes, trying to keep yourself awake in front of his laptop. But, it doesn’t help and the words start to blur together. After the third sentence, you lean back and close your eyes in an attempt to regain your focus.

“Hey.” You feel his hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N), are you sure you’re okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” You reopen your eyes, to see concern in Seungkwan’s eyes. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to answer. “I just haven’t been getting much sleep lately and there’s only so many sleeping pills a person can take.”

“Is it stress?”

“Not… not exactly.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning his chin on his hand. “Do tell, (Y/N). If not stress, is it a lover?”

You give him an unamused look at his teasing. “Ha ha. No.” You shift in your seat. “I’ve been having nightmares about this guy in my class.”

“Ooooh?”

“Stop it.”

He pouts. “Can you at least tell me who? I might know who it is.”

You rub the back of your neck, feeling a bit apprehensive. The problem is that he does know everyone. Apparently, everyone else seems to know Wonwoo, one way or another. He does have that reputation of looking like a moody emo bad boy. The fact that he’s good looking means he gets away with being creepy. But then again, he is polite to everyone—a very well mannered boy. You sigh, feeling the exhaustion hit all at once.

“I have a suspicion that you know who it is,” you say. You let out another sigh. “It’s Wonwoo.”

His eyes sparkle with interest. “Jeon? Jeon Wonwoo??”

You let out another sigh and place your head in your arms, muffling the groans you make. “Jesus, of course you know him.”

He makes a face. “Why?” Before you can answer him, he leans closer to you. “What’d he do?”

You can feel yourself inwardly cringing before the words even come out. You feel embarrassed about making a big deal about this small thing. “He’s done nothing to me. He’s just scary.”

“Wonwoo is one of the least scary people I know.” He moves away, looking off into the distance as if to collect his thoughts. “Minghao… He’s on that list, but Wonwoo? He’s like a scared cat…” At this point, he’s just mumbling to himself.

You look up, resting your head on your folded arms. “Earth to Seungkwan?”

“Right, back to you.” He pauses. “So these nightmares, are they that bad that you’re losing this much sleep?”

You nod.

“Wow, is he that scary to you?”

“Well, considering in the dream that he’s trying to murder me… I would say he’s pretty scary.”

“Okay, but what’d you think about him before?”

“Before what?”

“Like, before you started dreaming about his face and death.”

You blink, staring at him for a bit, lost in thought. You haven’t really thought about Wonwoo without the devil horns, but then again, you don’t really talk to him. It’s a required class, so there’s a lot of people in this lecture hall. Also, it’s a lecture hall, it’s not like people have a chance to interact with one another. The only reason why you’ve heard of him is because of your mutual friends. You admit though, he is attractive.

But you couldn’t let Seungkwan know that. He would never let it go and he’s friends with Wonwoo. Who knows what he’d do with this information.

“I was neutral about him,” you say. “Since I don’t really know much about him.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even find him attractive?”

You grumble as you begin to sit up. “Can we not talk about this and go back to suffering?”

“Ugh.” He throws his head back in a dramatic fashion. “I wanted the tea though.”

“This ain’t a tea shop honey, so I’m not giving you any.” You put your attention back to his laptop. “Let me just go over this draft and you can trash mine.”

You push your laptop towards him with the draft of your paper open.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Fine, but I want details later.”

“Boba break?”

“Boba break.”

Your professor sets down her books on the podium. “Alright class, please pull out your drafts. Your classroom partners are already assigned on the classroom page. If you can’t find it, it’s also on the projector.”

Your eyes don’t move away from your computer screen. The list of peer review partners has been pulled up and you scroll through it to find yours. You can only stare once you spot it.

(Y/N) and Wonwoo

This can’t be right.

You look from your screen to the projector. Your names are clear on the screen.

(Y/N) and Wonwoo

Someone clears their throat, snapping you out of your inner panic. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

To your right, Wonwoo stands with his messenger bag, a couple of textbooks in his hands, and a polite smile on his face. You can only nod, feeling the chills run up your back. He takes the empty spot next to you and sets down his things. Having him sit so close to you… it’s even scarier than you even imagined.

He glances at you with a small smile. Ugh, he is handsome. You’ll give him that.

As he turns his head, you get a closer look at his profile. In an instant, you see the devil-horned image of him flash. You shudder, turning away and wordlessly setting your laptop closer to him.

You manage to speak up, but it gets quieter as you talk. “Here’s my draft. You should be able to make comments… suggestions or something…”

He gives another smile (although you don’t see it) and hands you his laptop. “I have my draft on here too. I’m sorry, but it’s still a bit messy.”

His voice is so soft, despite his cold features. You take another glance at him to take his laptop. Your hands brush against his and you try to ignore the goosebumps that raise on your arms—whether it’s from fear, you can’t tell.

For a while, it’s quiet. Everyone is working on peer-editing their partner’s drafts, including you and Wonwoo. You both read through one another’s drafts. Ugh, he’s such a good writer. This was supposed to be a rough draft, but he makes it look like the final draft. This thesis makes sense; the support from the text is present; the counter-argument is made and redirected back to the thesis. Meanwhile, your draft probably looks even more half-assed than you originally intended for it to be.

You go through the document again to try to give some feedback on his draft, despite how hard it is to make something up. By the end, you only manage to give him three comments. Turns out, you had finished earlier than you’d thought. You look around, seeing everyone still working and interacting with their partners, before looking over at him.

He stares intensely at your screen, still scrolling through the hot mess you call a rough draft. Every couple of seconds, he types a comment and you feel yourself flinch at how hard he presses on the keyboard. You knew it wasn’t the best, but there’s no way for it to be the most awful thing you’ve written. You hadn’t even realized you’ve been staring until he turns his body towards you.

You lightly flinch at the sudden eye contact and, unconsciously, inch away from him. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he sets your laptop next to you.

“I wrote a couple of recommendations as to how you could expand on your argument further. I think you have a solid thesis and the evidence you provide from the texts are very strong. I didn’t know what else I could add, so I did the best I could to add some comments to help. You don’t have to use them, but they were just some ideas I thought you could use.”

He gives you another smile and you couldn’t help to feel a bit touched. Typically, people half ass these types of assignments. To see that he actually put effort into it and even added in ideas you can use...

You push his laptop further away from you and he immediately scrolls through it, before you can get a word in. That’s probably why the word vomit began and you haphazardly try to explain things, without even looking at him in the eye.

“I couldn’t really add in as much as you did. I thought it was really well thought out and made some really good points. I just made a couple of comments on word choice, grammar, and how it all connects. You’re a really good writer so you don’t have to really pay attention to these things. They really don’t make a big difference or anything. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you anything particularly helpful…”

You trail off from your nervous rambling, glancing up at him to take in his reaction. He looks rather sheepish; his hand rubs the back of his neck and light blush dusts his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing… I’m not that good…”

This vision of Wonwoo is definitely a 180 from your nightmares. The stoic and heartless image of Wonwoo with devil horns flashes once again. But then, you take another look at him. All you see a shy boy, flushed from a couple of compliments from a classmate he doesn’t even talk to—well, at least, until now.

You both sit there for a bit in silence, fiddling with your laptops in an attempt to work on your drafted papers. From what you can read, he put a lot of thought into his recommendations. After about five minutes, as the conversation around you begins to stir up again, he turns his body to you.

“Are the comments okay?” He pauses. “Were they able to help you?”

You hum and give a small nod. “I think with your suggestions this paper will be a bit easier to write.. I’m sorry for not being able to help you much with yours.”

He speaks in a small voice that you almost don’t hear. “You did help though…”

You give him a sheepish smile. “Not really. I gained more from this than you were able to… it’s unfair, sorry...”

“You shouldn’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, you tried your best.”

You let out a light laugh. “Did I though? I’m sure you’ve gotten more helpful feedback from other people.”

“Well, most people here don’t really care about this since this doesn’t ‘count for points.’”

“You’ve got a point.”

“Alright,” your professor says. “Considering how much you’re all talking, I’m assuming you’re done exchanging your drafts. If you’re done, you can leave. Consider it a reward for finishing early.”

You start to pack your things, as does Wonwoo. The both of you remain silent for a while, but, as you get up to leave, he speaks up with a soft voice.

“Did you want to work together on this paper later sometime?”

Before you can answer, he continues. “I just meant, like… I know you and Seungkwan work together and I was wondering if I could join you two or something. You don’t have to! I was just curious since Seungkwan and I work on it together too and I just thought it would be good if we all meet up.. together or something…”

“Oh…” Frankly, you didn’t even know they were working on the essay together too. No wonder Seungkwan’s draft was so good—that son of a bitch. On one hand, you already know Seungkwan is most likely to agree. On the other hand, you are still unsure you’re mentally prepared to willingly spend more time with him.

He’s nice, but you’re apprehensive as to how your brain is going to interrupt this. Who knows what your unconscious can unload? What if he transforms into a demon in your next dream? What if he turns into one of those gross monster-sized spiders and eats you whole?

Another chill runs down your spine, but you fake an unbothered smile. “I’ll talk to Seungkwan.”

He smiles back; it’s small, but genuine.

You sit at the library, tapping your fingers on the table as you wait anxiously for the boys’ arrival. You flip your phone over again, to check the time and any new text notifications from Seungkwan. You were starting to regret all your life’s decisions. Okay, maybe that’s too dramatic—even for you. But, you are regretting your decision of joining Seungkwan and Wonwoo’s study session.

To be honest, when you said you would talk to Seungkwan, that was 100% a lie. So, when you get a text from Seungkwan… you are more than shocked to find that he has oh-so graciously arranged the study session for you. That also meant getting a couple of pokes from him.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. As if he knew someone was talking shit, he enters the library and easily spots you in your usual corner. He drops his backpack onto the table and sits himself across from you, pulling out his laptop and textbooks.

“Sorry,” he says. “I had a couple of questions for my professor and…. I forgot how much that man likes to talk.”

“Hm, sounds like someone I know.”

“Ha ha, very funny (Y/N).” He opens his laptop and starts to skim through his books, but, eventually, he gets bored and looks back at you.

You feel his eyes on you and look up from your own laptop. “What?”

“From our last conversation, you said you were scared of Wonwoo.” Save it for Seungkwan to be blunt rather than beating around the bush.

“I didn’t say that—”

“It was implied.”

Your lips purse, finding yourself at a loss of words. “What about it?” you mumble, shrinking into your seat.

“Soooo,” Seungkwan says. “Why did you agree to the study group?”

You frown, squinting at him. “I’m sorry, but who decided to put us all into a group chat???” Your frown becomes a pout. “You can’t just put me in a group chat, ask about a meeting time, and think I’m going to be the asshole who says ‘oh no, I can’t make it.’ Then have you point out that I’m not doing anything.”

He shines a bright smile at you, ignoring your negative tone. “You wouldn’t have joined so otherwise.”

“Ha! So it was a ruse!”

“Of course it was.” He leans back to his seat. “You were so scared of him—look at you now, you’re making plans with him.”

“You made the plans.”

He waves a finger at you, “Semantics.”

You can only roll your eyes at him and type away, trying to sort out and prioritize on your latest assignments. “Why do you care so much about what I think about him?”

He blinks and you swear, for a second, he seems to have run out of words. You raise an eyebrow at his silence.

“Well... “ He stammers. “I—I just... just want all of my friends… to—to get along and be… friends.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you hum along, but you don’t believe a single thing he says. “It’s all the subconscious. I never had a problem with him in the first place.”

“Problem with who?”

You both turn around to see Wonwoo and another boy standing next to you two. From the unfamiliar voice, you can assume it was said by Mingyu—the other participating victim in the groupchat Seungkwan made.

“No one,” Seungkwan says. “Problem with no one—right, (Y/N)?”

You can only stare wide-eyed as you glance between them. “Yes, what he said.”

Mingyu laughs. “Uhm, okay.”

They both seat themselves at the table with you and Seungkwan—Wonwoo on one side and Mingyu on the other. They both give you a friendly smile and start to pull out their materials. You can only smile back awkwardly, typing away at your laptop.

“No offense,” Mingyu says. “I’m glad to be here, but I’m confused why I’m here.”

“It’s a study group and you’re our friend,” Seungkwan says.

“We’re not in the same class.”

“Moral support.”

“For what?”

He glances at you, which makes you narrow your eyes at him. He turns his attention back to Mingyu. “For things.”

Mingyu raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So,” Wonwoo says. “Shall we get started?”

“What should we start on?” you ask.

“I was thinking maybe the essay since that’s due the soonest,” Seungkwan says.

You all nod along, even Mingyu.

“So, I’m not involved either way,” Mingyu says. “This is fine, I totally don’t feel left out.”

Seungkwan shrugs. “You can do other assignments too.”

Mingyu pouts and his silent sulking is ignored.

You and Wonwoo chuckle at their antics. “Sorry buddy,” he says. “This plan wasn’t scheduled well.”

“Hey!”

Wonwoo ignores Seungkwan and turns to you. “Were you able to work on the essay?”

You shift in your seat, feeling awkward from suddenly being in his direct line of vision. “Yeah, I did—it’s coming along. Thanks again, by the way.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad I could help,” he says. “Did you want me to look at it?”

Your eyes widen, meeting Seungkwan’s, who makes a face. To be honest, you haven’t worked on it since you opened it during class and you’re too embarrassed to say you’ve been procrastinating. It’s due in two days and who says you can’t write an essay in one night (who isn’t a professor).

“Are you having trouble concentrating again?” Seungkwan asks. Before you can answer, he interjects himself. “Is this because you’re still having sleeping problems? Dude, just keep popping those pills.”

The other two’s attention have been turned to you. You inwardly groan from the eyes and try to focus on Seungkwan—but your body responds for you with a grimace. “Can you not say it like that? It’s melatonin and they’re technically vitamins.”

“Hmmm, sure.”

“You have sleeping problems?” Mingyu asks.

You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “Yeah, it’s not that big of a deal though.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Sure it isn’t. It’s not like you were nearly falling asleep when editing my essay just a couple of days ago.”

You smile. “I bought you boba though.”

“But can I really be bribed?”

“Of course not,” you say. “Because no one can afford your high maintenance.”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops from your bluntness, but there’s a small smile in it. Mingyu doubles over in laughter and Wonwoo tries to hold his in—the smile on his face gives it away, causing you to laugh as well.

Seungkwan quickly straightens up in defense. “This is what I get for trying to be nice.”

You give him another teasing smile.

“Okay, okay,” Mingyu says. “How bad is this sleeping problem?”

“It’s..” You click your tongue, recalling as to how bad your sleep schedule has been since these nightmares began. “It’s really bad, dude.”

“You know,” he says, turning his body towards you. “There are foods good for sleep.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, one time I made this banana almond parfait.”

“Oooh, sounds fancy—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Seungkwan says. “But I doubt that’s going to help (Y/N)’s situation.”

“Why not?” Wonwoo asks.

You’d almost forgotten he was there for a second.

“It’s a subconscious thing.”

Wait a second.

“So it’s psychological problems?” Mingyu asks. He props his chin into his hands. “Do tell.”

You stifle a laugh.

Wonwoo is the one who speaks for you. “Mingyu, you just met her and you already want to open up her psyche?”

“What’s a better way to get to know someone?”

“Anything else, bro.”

Mingyu’s lips purse, then form into a pout. “Booooooooo.”

“Okay,” you say. “Let’s just move on. We actually have to work on this essay.”

“Boooooo!”

“Shut up, Seungkwan.”

“I don’t care what anyone else says,” Chaeyoung says. “Lizard people are real.”

Yongsun nods along, digging her spoon further into her ice cream. “I’d buy into it. Matthew McConaughey has a lizard smile.”

You can only sigh in disappointment and put your head in your hands. “Why am I friends with you people?”

Your comment is ignored and Chaeyoung continues to talk. “Controversial statement: Shawn Mendez? Lizard person.”

“Oh my God, he kind of does.” Yongsun shows her screen to the both of you. “He has the same lizard smile as Matthew.”

As the two continue to converse other celebrities with lizard qualities, you sit at the other side of the booth, playing with your food. Dining hall food isn’t great, but it is free. What’s the point of these dinners, if you’re just going to want to throw it back up from these types of conversations?

A couple of weeks ago, y’all had a whole conversation as to how Ted Bundy got away from his crimes for such a long time (to be honest, he wasn’t even really attractive so….). Then, last week, y’all talked about white boy names—the looks you got from people with those names were absolutely hilarious. Side note: you don’t give a solid shit to anyone named Todd (what Todd have you met that WASN’T an asshole?).

By now, you’ve just learned to sit back and let these topics just… happen. At some point, these conversations are going to bite you in the ass.

“(Y/N)?”

You look up from your plate.

“I thought that was you,” Mingyu says with a smile.

You return it with one of yours. “Hey, Mingyu, right?”

“Yeah! I’m Seungkwan’s friend—although, I’m more known for being Wonwoo’s.” He pauses, before mumbling to himself. “And Jungkook’s…”

“Wonwoo?” Chaeyoung asks.

“Jeon Wonwoo?” Yongsun adds.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “You know him?”

“We’ve heard of him,” Yongsun says, nudging your rib. You smack her elbow away.

Chaeyoung scoots herself over. “If you want, you can sit with us.”

“Sure,” he says. “I have class in an hour, so I have time.” He sits himself next to her and looks between you and the other girls. “So, what are we talking about?”

Yongsun swallows her ice cream, pointing her spoon at him. “Lizard people.”

You push her spoon out of the way. “Can we please move away from this subject?”

“They! Are! Here!” Chaeyoung bangs her fists on the table, along each syllable.

You put your head back into your hands. “Oh my God. You need to stay off the internet.”

“Lizard people…” Mingyu says slowly. “What is this exactly?”

You look up, eyes wide and warning. “You do not want to ask her that.”

“So, there are theories that some people roam around Earth—”

“And, so it begins.”

Chaeyoung ignores you. “—as lizards. They are living amongst us and planning to overthrow the human race.”

“We’ve possibly identified a couple of them,” Yongsun says. “Hear us out. Matthew McConaughey and Shawn Mendez. Thoughts?”

“You do not have to answer them, by the way,” you say to him.

As if Mingyu was possessed by someone else, he nods along as he listens. “I could definitely see that. They have weird face structures.”

Your jaw drops from his participation in your weird dinner discussions. Your respect for him as a person has dropped. “Dude, don’t encourage them!”

Chaeyoung points at him, as if he isn’t present. “I like him better than that Wonwoo guy.”

“Ditto,” Yongsun says.

“I thought you guys didn’t know him?” Mingyu asks. His head tilts to the side—for a second, he looks like a puppy.

“We don’t,” Yongsun says. She slurps up the remaining ice cream melting from her bowl. “(Y/N) mentioned him and we looked him up—he’s just as hot as (Y/N) said.”

Your cheeks flush and you flick some of your water in her direction. “That’s not what I said!”

Her lips purse in response and she continues to slurp from her bowl. Meanwhile, Chaeyoung gives you a look, which you refuse to acknowledge.

On the other hand, Mingyu’s attention has been turned to you in interest. His eyebrow raises and you start to squirm.

“So,” he says with a twirl of his fork. “What have you said about Wonwoo?”

You’d honestly thought this conversation was behind you, especially since you had dodged away from the topic during your study group a couple of days ago. The difference between Seungkwan and these two is that these two have very little regard for your opinion. While they are your friends, they are also very invasive and you are very sure that they will ignore your protests. It’s almost as if they had heard your thoughts—they answer the question for you.

“She said he’s attractive,” Chaeyoung says.

“Technically,” Yongsun says. “She said he wasn’t ugly and I think she also said he murders her.”

Mingyu turns to you with surprise.

Just when you thought you had died before, you were sure that you have died now and were stuck in your customized purgatory hell.

“That,” you say into your hands. “Was not what I said.”

Yongsun squints at you. “Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember you defining your death kink with those weird dreams.”

You stare at her for a while before deciding on what to say. “Are you on crack? I was sure that your crackhead energy was drained last week during your history exam.”

“How dare you? I am completely sober.”

“Debatable.”

You both turn back to the other two at the table, where Chaeyoung continues to eat and Mingyu stares off with confusion evident in his features.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “But what’s the piece I’m missing?”

“I’ll give you a short version,” Chaeyoung says. “You see, (Y/N) has been dreaming about Wonwoo murdering her and we think it’s a loo—hey!” She grabs a napkin to wipe her, now, wet hair.

You give her a bright, fake smile as she playfully glares at you and the glass of water you’ve flicked on her. Yongsun chuckles at your antics and turns to Mingyu. “Either way, it’s 100% repression.”

“Repression of what exactly?” you ask.

“Attraction,” Yongsun points out.

You flick some more water at her, ignoring her yelps. You turn your attention to Mingyu. “Ignore them and everything they’ve said because it isn’t true.”

“Lies!” Chaeyoung says. “Yongsun’s right. It’s probably repression because Wonwoo is definitely hot—stop throwing water at me!”

You ignore her once again, flicking more water from your glass. “I did not say he was hot. I just admitted that he wasn’t ugly!”

As you continue to attack your friends with your water, Mingyu stays silent, but makes note from the conversation. Oh, how things will become more interesting….

You continue to type on your laptop, wrapping the conclusion paragraph with one last sentence. You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” you mutter under your breath. This god forbidden essay is done and you can easily turn it in. You look up from your screen, where Wonwoo continues to type on his.

His glasses sit on the edge of his nose and his eyes are narrowed, as if to physically focus on the words. You have to admit: the glasses suit him and his oversized sweater. While he has worn them every once in a while, this is one of the rare times you’ve seen him this close up. He looks like a soft boy molded from a John Green book.

You look a glance around and, seeing how he’s gathered the attention of a few people, you can tell you aren’t the only one who’s noticed. To be fair, if it wasn’t for your nightmares, you would be a lot more attracted to him.

Admittedly, it has been nice to spend this time with him—you managed to reduce some of those nightmares and get a bit more sleep. You might even admit that he’s a friend more than just a classmate now.

Speaking of friends, Seungkwan and Mingyu are pretty late. It’s been 20 minutes of just you and Wonwoo. You don’t mind, but you all made a plan to meet here (since the essay is due tonight).

“Are you done with your essay already?”

Wonwoo’s voice snaps you out of your inner ramblings. You look towards his direction, freezing from the sudden eye contact. “Huh?”

He clears his throat. “Are you... done? With the essay?”

“Ah, kind of. It’s probably bad, but it’s done.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Let me see.” He gestures to your laptop.

“Compared to your English major ass?” You pull the laptop closer to you. “No.”

“(Y/N),” he says with a sigh. “I’m sure it’s not even bad.” He gets ahold of the top of your laptop, lightly tugging it away from your grasp. You can only pout as the device is taken away from your hold and he begins to read. You place your chin into your hands, watching Wonwoo’s eyes dance from sentence to sentence.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been staring until he makes eye contact with you and sets your laptop back near you. If he noticed, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Wonwoo adjusts his glasses, pushing them closer to the bridge of his nose. When his face comes to view, there’s a small smile. “I told you your essay was fine. In fact, you could probably turn it in right now.”

Your lips purse, considering the idea, even though you were already planning to. Originally, you wanted Seungkwan to check it too—especially since he saw the real rough draft of it, which was a blank document.

“I kind of wanted to wait for Seungkwan,” you say. “Since we all agreed to do it together.”

He nods along with your words. “It makes sense.” He looks at you with a head tilt, thinking aloud. “Where is Seungkwan?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you say with a small laugh. “Is Mingyu coming?”

He checks his phone, wrinkling his nose as he squints at the screen and scrolls through his messages. “Honestly, I have no idea—last time I checked, he was supposed to.”

“Yeah, I ran into him yesterday and I assumed he was coming too.”

“Oh yeah,” Wonwoo says. “How was the lunch?”

“It was actually pretty funny beca—” You stop. You didn’t mention anything about lunch… so, how did he know about that? Your eyes narrow at him. “Did Mingyu tell you already?”

“Uh.” Wonwoo’s eyes shift. “Kind of?” He hunches a bit more over his own laptop, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Mingyu basically tells me everything.”

Mingyu basically tells me everything.

Oh, no.

You try to recall exactly as to the different topics during that one hour lunch with him. He was almost late to his class, since he was in a heavy debate with Yongsun and Chaeyoung as to whether or not Perry the Platypus cosplayers are considered furries…

It was a conversation that you had to be there for, in order for the context to be understood.

There was also the topic of whether Twilight should be watched for ironic purposes and/or the cinematic value of it. There was also discussion about what was the weakest element—which Yongsun was debating on the side of water.

You were getting off track; curse your friends for having such bizarre conversations. That line shouldn’t have triggered you, but for some reason, it feels off—as if there was something you were forgetting. You look at Wonwoo, who’s sitting across from you with flushed cheeks.

Wait a second.

She said he’s attractive.

Death kink with those weird dreams.

(Y/N) has been dreaming about Wonwoo murdering her.

Just when you thought things were just starting to become normal-ish between you two.

Your face flushes as you remember all the things your friends said… which were most likely echoed to Wonwoo through Mingyu (seeing how much blush is present on his face).

There’s only one thing you can say. “I can explain.”

He lets out a little, breathless laugh—but it sounds more like an uncomfortable one.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, I swear.”

He pushes his glasses up once more. “You—you don’t have to.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I should explain myself. It’s not supposed to sound as bad as they made it out to be and it’s not even your fault. I don’t even know why my subconscious chose your face out of anyone else’s. Yongsun said it’s repression, but you probably already know that and—” You sigh. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“For what? It’s not really your fault.”

“Yeah, but I guess, it’s just in general.” Your fingers glaze over the keyboard, absentmindedly toying with the keys. “Over break, I watched a horror movie with my friends and then I started getting nightmares. Again, I don’t know why your face was there, but… it just was.”

“I’m not mad,” Wonwoo says. “And it’s not your fault—you don’t have to apologize.”

There’s a small silence, which is just you and Wonwoo looking at one another with wide eyes, unsure as to what happens next.

“I will say,” Wonwoo says with a small voice. “I’m a bit flattered.”

“That I dream of you murdering me?”

“No.” He lets out a small laugh. “That your subconscious ‘chose my face.’”

You chuckle rather sheepishly when he took the words from your previous rambling. “Yeah… Seungkwan suggested that it was just a face that was most memorable.” You let out a long sigh. “And Yongsun likes to psychoanalyze into things.”

“So, do you… think my face… is attractive?”

You look up at him from your keyboard, only to see him dodging your eyes. His Adam's apple moves as he swallows. On the table, you can see that his hands are curled underneath the sweater paws, moving as he fiddles with his fingers. You can feel yourself shrinking into your seat, shyness overpowering you.

“Well….” you say. “You are… attractive…” You say the last part quieter than you intended, but Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours once the words are said.

His face turns a shade darker and he smiles a bit wider than before. “Even.. Even if I was part of a nightmare?”

You nod, but look off to the side to shake off the embarrassment.

“I think you’re attractive too.”

Your head turns to him, but his concentration is back to his laptop. While he can act like he didn’t say anything all he wants, the redness of his ears give his emotions away. You press your lips to repress your smile.

A bag being thrown into the table interrupts your moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” Seungkwan says, clearly out of breath. “This ladder here wanted to stop by Starbucks and there was a line.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Mingyu yells.

“It’s Starbucks! You should have known!”

“You couldn’t have sent a text?” you ask.

“My phone died,” he says with a pout. “Speaking of which, do you have a charger??”

You can only sigh in disappointment, but rummage through your bag nevertheless. “You’re lucky I brought this one.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know, I know. Now sit down and shut up, people are looking.”

When you open your eyes, you’re running—from what, you are unsure of. This tunnel is nearly pitch black dark. A part of you is calm, but the other is panicking. Probably due to previous experiences you’ve had in this subconscious. You continue to run, refusing to look back at whatever remains behind you, but you can hear its footsteps echoing.

Your shoes are soaked and continue to splash against the muddy waters, as you continue to run. It stays dark for so long, but then it gets lighter, as if the sun poured itself into the tunnel. The footsteps stop. Whatever’s behind you diminishes.

But you can’t stop running towards the light, which burns closer and closer. The light embraces you, shining brightly and bouncing along your surroundings. You try to shield your eyes from the sun, only to be greeted by shimmers. Your vision starts to clear, enough for you to identify your surroundings.

You’re at the park. But what for?

You stand in the grass, surrounded by trees and rose bushes. The flowers are just in bloom, blossoming towards you, as if you were the sun itself. The skies are clear of clouds and the sun shines down, but it isn’t beating. Butterflies flutter and graze above the ground, but they don’t get close enough to you. The birds are chirping lightly, sounding like a song’s melody. The air is fresh and the aura is soothing.

As you walk through, you start to soak in the aroma. To the side, you notice a small hill with, no doubt, the best view. A picnic blanket is laid out, along with plates and other objects.

Someone else is also there.

It’s a familiar figure, but you can’t make out who it is from the distance.

You call out. “Hello?”

The figure turns and there Wonwoo sits. He has his glasses intact, but, instead of the casual wear, he’s a bit more dressed up—his white button-up showcases his nicely built chest and his slacks reveals how long his legs are.

He smiles at you, white pearls sparkling and eyes shining—you feel as if it’s almost like the buds have bloomed as well. For a moment, you think you’re stuck in a picture.

And then the wind blows, brushing his hair against his forehead.

“Are you coming, (Y/N)?”

---

Your eyes shoot open. The warmness in your chest is gone and is replaced by the coldness of your sheets. You shift under the covers and attempt to sit up.

The grogginess stays, but one thing remains in your mind—what was that and why did the dream change?

It’s 11:15am once again and you sit at your unofficial reserved spot. Your head lies on the desk, awaiting for the other students and your professor to arrive at the lecture hall. Tiredness continues to overpower you as your eyes consistently flutter to shut and reopen.

A knock on the table interrupts your attempted naptime. You look up to see Wonwoo’s face above yours. He gives you a small smile as he sets his bag on the seat next to yours. From his presence, you sit yourself up and rub your eyes, in an attempt to wake yourself.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

You can feel yourself internally curling from his close proximity. “Yeah, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He lets out a small, airy laugh. With a shake of his head, he jokes. “Still getting nightmares about me murdering you?”

A blush creeps up to your face. “Ha… Not really,” you say. It’s not like it’s a lie, but it’s not exactly the truth. You unconsciously move yourself a bit further from him as you recall the image of him surrounded by roses. “It’s probably just insomnia—bad sleeping habits most likely piled up.”

He nods, humming along as you speak. He rummages through his bag, pulling out his laptop and notebook. His side profile is illuminated through the sunshine that’s reflected on the window. He looks like he’s sparkling…

You quickly turn away as soon as he moves his head towards your direction. God, you were starting to stare a lot more than usual. You shake your head as you try to refocus on what you were doing.

What were you doing?

Closing your eyes, you try to regain your train of thought—only for you to lose it immediately after. You eventually decide to pull out your laptop and open up your lecture notes. On another tab, you see the essay that you’ve already turned in.

“Oh,” you say. You turn back to Wonwoo, “I almost forgot, did your essay turn out okay?”

“Yeah, it took a little bit of editing but I turned it in on time.”

“I’m sure it turned out great,” you say. “You’re definitely getting an A.” He gives you another shy smile and his cheeks start to blush. You shift into your seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “You’re really smart anyways,” you mumble.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you say. “Nothing at all.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re getting an A too,” he says. “It was really well put together. At least, from what I remember.”

“Ehh.” You shrug your shoulders. “We’ll see.”

“Give yourself more credit, (Y/N),” he says in a softer tone. “You’re really smart and it’s okay for you to brag.” He turns his attention back to his laptop. His red ears have made a return.

On the other hand, you position yourself in your seat to straighten up and hide your smile. You take the opportunity to glance around, noticing the other students who’ve entered the lecture hall. Others are starting to enter as well.

You check the time on your laptop and it looks like it’s time for class to begin. Your professor arrives as well and sets up her materials.

“Open up your textbooks and turn to page 304. We’ll start with the four categories of ethical theories.”

Without turning from your laptop screen, your hand hovers over the textbook in your bag, but Wonwoo’s whisper interrupts your movement.

“Did you forget your book? I’ll share mine with you.”

You should probably say no, but your hand speaks for you, moving away from the bag. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

He gives another smile, leaning closer as he scoots the book towards you. Your professor continues to lecture, going over the slide’s content, but you can’t concentrate—not when Wonwoo’s this close. He smells like fresh laundry, the kind that you want to wrap yourself in before the warmth is gone. When you look at him, the sparkles return, along with the image of him from your dreams.

“Hold up,” Seungkwan says. “Yongsun thought that water is the weakest element? It’s clearly fire.”

“That’s what I said!” Mingyu yells. He sighs in disappointment from the recollection of the conversation and moves his strawberry milkshake to the side. “Fire is just a stupid element that can be destroyed by water AND all living things need water in order to survive. There are so many benefits to water and—” He stops himself with another sigh and takes a long sip of his milkshake.

Next to him, you shake your head with a small laugh. Taking a fry from your plate for a bite, you can only observe and let the conversation take its course. While your focus remains on the other two, your eyes glance over towards Wonwoo, who sits in front of you.

“I think earth is debatable,” Wonwoo says. “But, I feel like fire is the weakest due to the fact that it’s more destructive rather than productive.”

While the essay was already due, Seungkwan invited you to dinner at a nearby diner. You figured that it’d be nice to not eat dining hall food for once, so you agreed. But when you got there, you didn’t expect Mingyu and Wonwoo to already be there—hence your current position in front of Wonwoo, next to Mingyu, in a booth, while they’re arguing about the strongest element.

You blame Yongsun and Chaeyoung for this chaos; if they hadn’t pulled him into this conversation, he wouldn’t have brought it up now—which also dragged Seungkwan and Wonwoo into the discourse.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say. You continue to gnaw away at your fries, even when all three of their eyes land on you. Typically you’d refuse to engage in these conversations, but you refuse to let them walk around without an argument.

Seungkwan clears his throat, as if he was asking you to elaborate. Meanwhile, Mingyu continues to sip on his shake and Wonwoo has an eyebrow raised.

You let out a sigh from the eyes and toss the half-bitten french fry back to your plate before speaking. “You can argue that fire is the weakest, but we cook with fire and that’s what allowed our society to thrive because we started to have less time devoted to farming.”

Seungkwan and Mingyu’s jaws slightly drop from your point, while Wonwoo smiles.

“We can technically live without fire,” Seungkwan says. “We can go back to farming and let the animals thrive.”

“First of all, cold temperatures are a thing and fire provides warmth. Secondly, did you not hear me? Cooking gave us more time to further develop society, so, without it, we would figuratively and literally be unable to live.”

“She’s got a point,” Wonwoo says.

“Thank you.”

Seungkwan’s mouth moves, but no words find their way out.

“Wow, I left Boo Seungkwan speechless,” you say, as you begin to finish off your fries. “You’re welcome.”

Mingyu looks on impressively. “Niceeee.”

“That’s a very hard feat,” Wonwoo says. “I’ll give you points for that.”

Seungkwan has suddenly regained interest from Wonwoo’s words. He leans his chin on his hand, moving uncomfortably closer to Wonwoo, who attempts to swat him away. “When did you two get along so well?”

“We have class together,” you say with narrowed eyes.

“And I sit right next to her,” Wonwoo adds.

Mingyu smiles slyly. “Since when did that happen?”

You miss the way he looks over to Seungkwan. Wonwoo blinks at the question and you suddenly have developed more interest towards the salt on the fries.

“I feel like we shouldn’t be here,” Seungkwan says.

“You invited me,” you say. “But okay.”

“I know that,” he says with a huff. “But it just feels like a moment we shouldn’t be in.”

You roll your eyes in response, but the smile on your face shows no malice. Wonwoo remains quiet—scratching his neck, feeling the heat creep up to his face.

“So, are you dating yet?” Mingyu asks as he glances between you two.

“Oh my God,” Wonwoo mutters. He lays his face onto the table with a thud and you almost choke from Mingyu’s directiveness.

Mingyu goes on, ignoring both of your reactions. “You both like each other right? Well, at least, I know Wonwoo does.”

“DUDE!”

“Oops.” Mingyu’s lips pull back. He turns to Seungkwan. “Should we leave now?”

“Please don’t,” Wonwoo whispers.

Your jaw drops as you watch Seungkwan nod, smiling at you like nothing’s happened. Seungkwan and Mingyu side out of their side of the booth, but. before they leave, Mingyu drops one hand on each of your shoulders. “Don’t worry about the check. Consider it a present from your cupids.”

“You owe me one, (Y/N)!” Seungkwan shouts from the door. They both head towards the door, giving both of you little waves with their fingers.

Both you and Wonwoo sit in silence, not knowing what to say to the other. But, in all fairness, Wonwoo owes you the explanation.

You swallow, suddenly feeling your throat dry up. “If it makes you feel better…”

He looks up at you from the table.

“I like you too.”

A smile grows on his face and he starts to sit up slowly. “Really?”

“What can I say?” Your smile mirrors his. “My subconscious chose you before I could.”

He lets out a chuckle, readjusting his glasses and fiddling with his fingers, before settling them on the diner table. They’re free from the usual sweater paws and tap against the bright countertop.

“Just to be clear,” he says. “You aren’t scared of me?”

“Well, I was before,” you pause. “But that was before we even really talked or hung out. And now….”

“What about now?”

You blush, remembering the roses, the sparkling, the picnic—it all sounds so… nice. You couldn’t think of the words and Wonwoo could sense that.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

A sigh of relief escapes you. “Maybe next time then.”

His smile grows. “So, there’s a next time?”

You nod, feeling the butterflies in your stomach and your heart pounds in your chest. His hand moves towards you, closer and with caution—so yours meets his halfway. When your fingers intertwine, he looks from your hands to you with sparkling eyes and you can feel the warmth return to your chest.

This.

This is what feels right.

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talesfromlissom · 5 years ago

Text

Glory of the Moon

A/N: This is split into four separate parts, and it’s also really long so uh yeah, sorry if the characters act ooc, I’m still trying to figure out who I want to write most of them, and I haven’t done character studies with any of the characters (minus solider:76) so sorry y’all.

This is also a GN reader for all the people that like GN readers, so any pronouns can go for the role of (Y/N) ;), have fun~

This is kind of my own idea, featuring Poly!Mchanzo but Mcree and (Y/N) are werewolves.

Summary: As the recall has been issued, new recruits start to flood into overwatch due to recommendations, from old and new allies. However, the newest recruit seems to have an interest in Hanzo, much to Jesse’s dislike.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

“So, what do you think of the new recruit?” Was the first thing that came to Jesse’s ears that morning.

Jesse shrugged.

“Haven’t met ‘em yet.”

“Well, from what Lena tells me, his name is Dallas, and...he’s a werewolf.”

Now that caught Jesse’s attention.

“Another one? Damn, might as well make half of the base off limits during the full moon.”

“Bah! The only thing you and I do according to Hanzo is bother him with belly rubs.”

Jesse snickered.

“Speakin’ of Han, where is he?”

(Y/N) shrugged.

“Not sure, he said he wanted to go and train before people started filling it,” (Y/N) replied. “He says he doesn’t like it when he keeps people waiting.”

A pause.

“Liar.”

“Fine, he said that he doesn’t want Genji to come into the training ground and challenge him to a fight in the middle of the day.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“If you tell him that I told you that he’ll smother me with a pillow.”

“I...Ima tell him.”

“Jesse-mf-Mcree, you better not-”

──•~❉+❉~•──

“Well ain’t he a sight.” Jesse muttered, as (Y/N), and him had come to the training grounds, seeing the new recruit.

(Y/N) could tell he was new, he didn’t have a uniform.

This man was dressed in black jeans, ripped jeans of course, (Y/N) smiled.

This man was young, maybe getting into his late 30’s, and with his white t-shirt and his black jacket, he knew this man at least had a fashion sense.

(Y/N) heard tapping of feet fill the air, and based on how fast they moved they knew automatically who it was.

“Heya Han, how you doin’?” Jesse said, beating (Y/N) to greeting the smaller man.

“Well, I was training, but the new recruit came and people filed in.”

“Ah! My friends!” Reinhart’s booming voice yelled. “Come meet the new recruit!”

“Speak of the devil.” Jesse muttered as the crowd parted.

(Y/N) crossed their arms and raised an eyebrow as the man walked over.

And Jesse extended a glance to (Y/N) as the man came into range.

This man was definitely a werewolf.

He practically wreaked of it.

However, (Y/N) couldn’t pinpoint what pack he was from, because he didn’t smell like an omega.

The man grinned at (Y/N).

“Alpha (Y/N)? Is that really you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “In the flesh, and you are?”

“Dallas! Dallas Starmonger! I’m from the western pack in Oregon!” He beamed. “It's an honor to speak to you!”

(Y/N) grinned.

“The western pack? Ain’t y’all-” Jesse began.

“And who is this?” Dallas asked, gesturing to Hanzo.

Hanzo paused.

“Oh, Hanzo Shimada, at your service.”

Dallas watched as the man extended the hand.

“No, the pleasure is all mine.”

And (Y/N) had to stop Mcree from storming over when the man kissed Hanzo’s hand.

Hanzo blinked as Dallas walked by, clicking his teeth and entering the base.

“What the ‘ell was that!” Jesse cried.

“A proper greeting?”

“He kissed yer hand, Han.”

“You do realize that is a form of greeting, Mcree?”

“But-”

(Y/N) shook their head.

“(Y/N), help me out ‘ere!”

“No. I’m gonna go train with Zarya and Mei, see ya.”

“But-but darlin’-!”

“Bye Jesse! Go talk to Dallas or somethin’!”

Hanzo snickered as Jesse crossed his arms and pouted.

“Are you jealous Jesse?”

“No.”

“Jesse, calm yourself, this man is a werewolf, if I am correct, your scent, as well as (Y/N)’s lingers on me, he’ll know to keep away.”

Jesse still pouted as Hanzo gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked into the hall, and turned to go towards the cafeteria.

He stood there for a bit.

Maybe he was just being paranoid.

──•~❉+❉~•──

“He still hasn’t said hello to me.” Jesse huffed.

(Y/N) shook their head.

“Jesse, he probably didn’t see you.”

“Didn’t see my ass, he looked right at me!” Jesse paused. “Somethin’ about this guy doesn’t feel right.” Another pause. “Jeez, if I had a dollar for everytime I caught that man staring at Han, I’d pay off my own goddamn bounty.”

(Y/N) rolled their eyes. “C’mon Jesse, you and I said that about Hanzo, and now look where we are, we’re all dating.”

“Tsk.” Jesse muttered, rounding the corner.

“And besides, Hanzo is the most observant out of us, if he knows something is up, he’ll know it before we do.”

“I just, I don’t-”

Jesse came to a halt, spying Hanzo and Dallas down the hall.

Hanzo was leaning against a wall, with Dallas hovering over him, the two engaged in casual chatter.

Jesse gestured to the two.

“See?”

“Jesse, be polite.”

“I am being polite!”

“Ah, (Y/N), and...Joel..?” Dallas began as the two walked over.

“It’s Jesse.” Jesse hissed.

“Ah, Jesse right,” Dallas corrected. “So, you three are the only werewolves here?”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “Three?”

“Hanzo ain’t a werewolf,” Jesse muttered, and (Y/N) narrowed their gaze at him, noticing the slight attitude in his tone.

(Y/N) huffed at Jesse who narrowed his gaze even further.

“Ah, he’s a human then?”

“Yep.”

“Hm.” Dallas said. “That’s a good thing to know.”

“And why’s that?”

“Jesse, calm-”

“No no, it's fine,” Dallas said, scratching the back of his neck. “I heard that the new recruits get paired to spar against the older recruits, so I just wanted to know so I can go easy on him-”

“You do not have to go easy on me. I can handle it.” Hanzo replied.

Dallas then grinned.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Nice, well, see you guys around, Mrs.Amari still has to show me around!”

As the man ran off, (Y/N) immediately turned to Jesse.

“Jesse, you need to take a chill pill.”

“I’m completely chill darlin’. Completely.” Jesse snapped through gritted teeth.

──•~❉+❉~•──

Things didn’t get much better between Jesse and Dallas.

But they did between Dallas and Hanzo.

Hanzo found a mutual understanding in Dallas.

Dallas, was raised in a crime family as well, with his father being a member of the mafia.

Unlike Hanzo’s father, Dallas’ was just a member, not the leader.

So he understood the expectations.

Alas, Dallas ran away, not wanting to participate in such violent things, and joined overwatch to help, is what Dallas told him anyways.

He found himself having to speak to Dallas by himself, or with (Y/N) around, since Jesse and Dallas never got along.

This led to...a lot of fights between (Y/N) and Jesse, whenever (Y/N) caught Jesse being rude.

Hanzo sat in the background most of the time when the two fought.

Tempers flared high between the two as of right now, not just because of this new recruit,but the full moon was tonight.

Which meant Hanzo tried to keep his distance, but again, there was a fight, and he didn’t leave in time.

──•~❉+❉~•──

“Jesse what hell were you thinking!” (Y/N) cried as Jesse merely looked at the floor.

“God! Can’t you get your head out of your ass for two seconds and actually try to get along with this guy?”

“He called me an Omega!”

“So what! I get called an Omega too? It isn’t rare, Jesse!”

“He knew that I’d punch him if I said that!”

“He did not Jesse. I bet Dallas is just tired of you being rude to him so he decided to be rude back!”

“Why the hell are you taking his side?”

“I’m not taking anybody’s side Jess’, why would you think I’d do that to you!”

“Then why don’t ya say anythin’!” A pause. “He interrupts me, ignores me, and yet you say nothin’! You’re a goddamn alpha, he’ll listen to you!”

“No he won’t! He’s an alpha too Jess’!”

Jesse let out a groan of frustration.

“And what about Han? Huh, I guess you don’t see him feel ‘im up him do ya?”

“He’s never done that before!”

“Yes he has!” Jesse yelled, his voice getting louder.

Hanzo tensed as the shouting would get louder, and the grip on his book tightened.

Soon, the book slammed shut, causing (Y/N) and Jesse to turn to him.

“Can you two please cease this useless fighting!” Hanzo cried. “It brings us nowhere!”

Silence.

“(Y/N), Jesse isn’t going to like everyone, but Jesse, you must be polite to Dallas, it's unprofessional and he is your team member!”

“Han-”

“No! You are both acting like children, hell, I can’t sit down and have a meal without you two fighting about this man! He is just a man!”

And that was the last straw.

Hanzo marched past the two enraged werewolves, who were still silent.

“I’m going to meditate, do not bother me.”

And the door shut, and frankly, (Y/N) and Jesse swore the door sounded louder than before.

──•~❉+❉~•──

It was always calming in the zen garden.

It was built by request of Genji and Zenyatta.

Hanzo was thankful it was late, Genji and Zenyatta tended to meditate during the day.

So as of right now, he was alone.

The calming atmosphere almost always brought some peace to his mind.

Near the fountain, eyes shut.

However, they snapped open as the leaves brushed next to him.

He turned, and spotted Dallas coming out of the bushes.

A water bottle in hand.

And a towel wrapped around his neck.

Dallas paused.

“Oh, heya Hanzo, how are you doing?”

“I am fine, you?”

Dallas frowned.

“I know that look,” He said. “Joel and (Y/N) fought again I’m guessing?”

“Is it that obvious?” A pause. “And his name is Jesse.”

Dallas muttered an apology before sitting down, next to Hanzo.

Hanzo fidgeted.

“What...are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was working out with Reinhart and Junkrat, but I got tired and left early,” He said, placing the bottle down. “God, those two have so much stamina.”

Hanzo shook his head.

“Indeed.”

Silence.

“You...want a sip?”

“What?”

“Of my water.”

“Erm..no thank you.”

“You sure? Dr.Ziegler told me that you tend to meditate for hours, it shouldn’t hurt to drink something small.”

Hanzo thought for a moment, his dragons spoke to him, telling him to go see (Y/N) and Jesse.

He brushed it off and grabbed the water bottle, taking a few gulps.

“See? Isn’t that better?”

Hanzo shook his head.

“I suppose.”

Dallas grinned.

“Doesn’t Winston have some fruit here?”

“This isn’t the greenhouse, Dallas.”

“I know but it doesn’t hurt to look right?”

Hanzo sighed.

“You may look, but I am not.”

“Alright, see ya tomorrow then.”

“Farewell.”

Hanzo shut his eyes yet again.

──•~❉+❉~•──

After fifteen minutes, Hanzo felt off.

His head was pounding, his arms felt weak.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

When were the lights this bright.

Hanzo stood up-

He wobbled and fell against the fountain, gripping his head.

His vision was getting more distorted and blurry every time he blinked.

He heard footsteps behind him.

“God, it was easy breaking into this place.” A voice said off in the distance.

“You sure this is the place?”

Hanzo hobbled forward, only to fall to the ground.

“Oh it's the place alright.” He heard Dallas’ voice interrupt.

Through his blurred vision, he saw the faint outline of Dallas, crouching near him.

The corner of his eyes began to turn to black, as he felt himself be lifted from the ground and placed on Dallas’ shoulder.

“Welcome to the Eastern Pack of Spain, Hanzo Shimada.”

#hanzo x reader #mcree x reader #mchanzo x reader #glory of the moon series #aaaa #werewolf reader #werewolves #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #my writing #werewolf mcree #werewolf!mcree

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twomanyideas · 4 years ago

Text

The Search for the Supreme Scent - Chapter 3

A collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 with @x-thekid

AO3 | Ch 1 | Prev: Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Next: Ch 4

Chapter 3

“Hold your goddamned horses. I’m coming!” Natsu growled at the door as he slowly made his way down the stairs. He could smell Gray outside, but it did nothing to alleviate how pissed off he was at being woken up at the asscrack of dawn. That and the fact that he could tell that whatever brought his friend to his house wasn’t urgent as he didn’t smell any different than usual.

“What the hell do you want?!” Natsu snapped as he pulled the door open hard enough to shake the frame.

“Get ready, we’re going on a job,” Gray entered the house without waiting for an invitation and sat down on his couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“Come right in,” Natsu muttered in disbelief. He closed the door behind him and turned to face his rival.

“You couldn’t wait until the sun came out, or I dunno, I got to the guild?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Natsu took a deep breath, recognizing when Gray was fucking with him and refusing to rise to the bait even though he was still exhausted from the previous day’s events. “Is this a team job?”

“No, this is an us job,” Gray rolled his eyes for emphasis, “as in, Erza demanded we do it together.”

Natsu thought about this for a moment. That wasn’t so unusual, although it had been a while since Erza had felt the need to send them on one of her get along jobs.

“Why are you both being so loud?” Happy asked, flying down from the second floor and landing on the couch, his eyes still puffy with sleep.

“Sorry, buddy,” Natsu apologized, “It looks like we’re going on a job.”

“But it’s so early,” Happy whined, “can’t we go later?”

“It’s okay, Happy. You can stay home if you want,” Natsu assured him, “I’m sure the Ice Princess and I can handle whatever it is.”

“Ugh, are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me Flame Brain?”

“Point taken,” Gray grinned, lighting up his face in a most distracting manner.

Natsu stared for what felt like a second too long before massaging the back of his neck. “I guess I should go get ready then.”

He made his way back to his room, poking at his chest carefully to see how much his body had healed overnight. The claw wounds had mostly healed, but he could tell his ribs were still broken, although the pain was bearable. Even so, he hoped the job was nearby. Whether it was walking or a train ride, it was still going to put a strain on him.

Natsu grabbed his one-sleeved coat from his closet, not wanting to show his bandages to Gray or anyone else who might try to use it to their advantage. His pants and underwear were a little more challenging to put on, but he managed. A quick trip to the bathroom and he was ready.

To his surprise, Gray had prepared breakfast for all of them.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” Natsu muttered, munching on the coffee, eggs, and toast his friend had set out for him.

“I think the words you’re looking for are: thank you,” Gray deadpanned.

Natsu ignored him, asking instead, “So, where are we going, and why so early?”

Gray sighed in a way that let him know that whatever the job was, it was something Gray considered beneath them. “We have to go to Boundary Forest to find some strong-smelling flowers Ichiya needs for his parfum experiments.”

Natsu groaned. He didn’t dislike Ichiya, although he did find him a bit strange. But surely there was no reason why they couldn’t have gone later.

“Are you sure this isn’t some sort of ploy by Erza to get me to see the old hag?” Natsu asked, well aware that Porlyusica lived in Boundary Forest. “Cause I gotta tell you, she’s only gonna be more pissed off if we wake her up.”

“Nah, I think she just doesn’t want to deal with Ichiya. You know how uncomfortable he makes her. ”

“That he does,” Natsu chuckled in agreement, “But finding a flower shouldn’t take long, so why did you come here so early?"

"To make sure you weren't running off with the other slayers again,” Gray replied, but Natsu felt like he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

He suddenly remembered his friend’s outburst at the guild the previous morning and wondered if it was related to that. He could feel the outrage building again at the idea that Gray, who had grown up at Fairy Tail like most of them, no longer felt comfortable in his home.

“If you’re done stuffing your face, we should get going,” Gray announced, sticking the dirty plates in the sink on top of the pile that already sat there and making no effort to clean them.

Natsu rolled his eyes at the action but didn’t comment, and after making sure Happy didn’t want to come, they left, promising to go fishing later.

0-0

Boundary Forest - an area of luscious woods and fields near the old Fairy Tail guild building.

The walk to Boundary Forest had been mostly silent, each seemingly caught up in their thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, which was unexpected as they hadn’t really had a chance to talk since Natsu had shown up at the Avatar headquarters looking for Gray a few months earlier.

The sun had finally risen over the mountains as they reached the forest, bringing the sounds of the birds and other woodland creatures with it. It was a place they knew well, having not only played there as kids but also traveled through it on their way to other jobs.

Natsu’s chest had begun to throb, making walking uncomfortable, so he decided to ask Gray for more information to keep his mind off it.

"So, what's this flower supposed to look like?" Natsu asked as he sniffed the air around them. He smelled plenty of flowers- Boundary Forest was full of them- and as he tried to catch a trace of this supposedly unique flower Ichiya wanted, he was also on the lookout for the scent of nearby monsters.

So far, they had only bumped into a few green flutterers, which were a type of medium-sized bird often seen near the trails. They could be aggressive, but once they’d had a taste of Natsu’s fire and Gray’s ice, they’d given them a wide berth. “Erza said they looked like daisies,” Gray answered, straying from the forest path they were walking on to inspect a patch of wildflowers a few feet away. Natsu frowned at him, having no idea what daisies looked like. He knew roses, cherry blossoms, and of course, magnolias, but that was where his flower knowledge ended.

“Remember those flowers Laki used to pull the petals from when we were younger?” Responding to Natsu’s blank expression, Gray offered a half-assed description. “White petals. Round, yellow center. They’re pretty.”

Natsu’s thoughts immediately went back to what Wendy had said the previous day.

Gray likes pretty things.

Did that mean he liked daisies? And by extension, whatever the flower they were looking for was called, too? Natsu looked around, eyeing all the different kinds of flowers he could spot, wondering if he should take Wendy’s advice and pick some to give to Gray once they were done with their job.

What had happened at Worth Woodsea had served to reinforce that he didn’t want to have any more regrets. They were guild wizards who spent their lives fighting monsters or dark guilds to earn jewels, and while it was a fun way to live most of the time, it was also dangerous.

He’d lived with these feelings long enough. It was one thing when he thought that Gray and Juvia were together, but now that he knew differently, he refused to wake up one morning only to find that it was too late.

“The ones we’re looking for should have a-” Gray scrunched up his nose as he spoke the characteristic words of Ichiya, “wonderful parfum.”

“If you say sniff sniff, I’ll deck you,” Natsu threatened playfully.

“You mean you’ll try,” Gray retorted, looking annoyingly unconcerned, “Anyhow, you’re the bloodhound. They all smell pretty much the same to me.”

Natsu couldn’t deny that was true, so he once again set about trying to find the mysterious flower. None of the wildflowers stood out, so they got back on the path, walking over the wooden bridge and edging ever closer to Porlyusica’s house.

The smells were much more pungent there, no doubt due to the herbs the old woman grew for her remedies. Natsu wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Erza’s gonna owe me for this.”

“I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you,” Gray advised, “She’s still plenty pissed at you.”

Natsu caught the first traces of something different in the air, strong enough to overpower the herbs. He stopped, focusing only on that scent and trying to pinpoint its location. Once he was reasonably sure where it was coming from, he couldn’t help but groan.

Of course, it had to be right by Porlyusica’s house!

“Did you find anything?”

“I think so,” Now that he’d detected it, he couldn’t smell anything else. It was that strong. “Are you telling me you can’t smell that?” Natsu asked, amazed as always by how dull the human sense of smell was.

Gray shook his head, “About the only thing I can smell is you.”

Natsu tried not to let that idea take hold, knowing it didn’t have the same meaning for Gray as it did for him. He led the way, eager to find the flowers and be done. Maybe find a spot to sit for a little bit so they could get a chance to talk, and he could rest before the long walk back. “I think I know where they are. The smell is coming from over there-” Natsu pointed to a pair of large rocks in a small clearing.

The flowers’ scent was so overwhelming now, Natsu almost felt dizzy by it. There was no doubt in his mind that these were the ones Ichiya had requested, so he wasted no more time in getting to them. He waded through the tall grass and the weeds, hearing Gray’s footsteps following close behind him when suddenly the ground below his feet began to rumble. The rocks started to move, and for a second, it appeared as if they were growing, but then Natsu realized what he’d thought were rocks were something else entirely.

He stopped in his tracks, and Gray bumped into him, aggravating the pain in his chest.

“What’s the big idea?” Gray complained, looking around Natsu to see the two massive red golems that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Oh.”

All four of them stood unmoving, and for the first time in his life, Natsu- who was always looking for a fight- hoped the monsters would just walk away. He held his breath, willing Gray to remain where he was, but the ice mage was already moving into his molding stance, and a sense of dread consumed Natsu as images of the previous day’s events flitted through his mind.

He saw the golems pump their fists in challenge and readied himself for a fight.

“Ice-Make: Shield!”

Natsu was astounded to find an ice shield materializing in front of him seconds before Gray cast his attack.

“Ice-Make: Ice Geyser!”

Natsu couldn’t see what was happening very well through the shield, but he heard the familiar sound of Gray’s ice colliding with the rocky surface of the golems’ bodies, and their angry roars in response to the attack.

“Fuck,” Gray muttered, and Natsu felt the dread grow inside him.

“What?”

“Ice-Make: Floor!”

Natsu stretched out his hand, melting the shield just in time to see the spell hit the two golems who, outside of being pissed, seemed utterly unaffected by Gray’s ice.

Any other day he would have been tempted to watch Gray figure out a solution as he mocked him for his lack of progress. But not today, not when Rogue’s cries were still so close.

“Fuck,” Natsu agreed, calling on his magic even as his chest reminded him this wasn’t one of his better ideas. His fire coated both his fists, and he peered at the monsters carefully, searching for a weakness he could exploit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gray managed to get out before both golems lunged at them with incredible speed.

Natsu heard Gray cast his Cold Excalibur but knew it would do nothing to protect him; it wasn’t that the golems were resistant to ice. It did not affect them whatsoever.

And with that knowledge, he was suddenly thrust into a wild panic. Wendy wasn’t there. If something happened to Gray and he couldn’t get him to her in time, which was likely given his broken ribs, he could lose him forever.

All rational thought left him, replaced by an all-encompassing rage he had no control over. Everything became simpler, and his senses sharpened even more than usual. There was only one thought coursing through his brain.

Protect

Natsu could feel his skin changing, hardening into scales all over his arms and face. Both the amount and level of power available to him increased exponentially. He immediately recognized it as something he’d only managed a few times before, but this was only the second time he’d done so without external aid.

He had entered Dragon Force. The only other time it had happened this way, Gray had also been in mortal danger.

Natsu wasted no time casting his first spell - “Crimson Lotus Exploding Lightning Blade!”

The words rang in the air as he charged at the golems, launching attack after attack until they were reduced to nothing but rubble at his feet. As soon as the threat was eliminated, Natsu collapsed where he stood. The last thing he heard before his vision faded to black was Gray screaming out his name.

A/N: The picture was made using the game’s Photo Mode which is really fun!

#fairy tail #gratsu #ft game au #ftlgbtales #update #fics #Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2020

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something-tofightfor · 5 years ago

Text

He’s Not Here - Part 19

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 6700

Rating: NSFW (It’s a smut. And there’s language.)

Parts 1-18 + the interludes and NSFW alphabet can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)

Summary: Billy’s home. What comes next?

Author’s Note: Billy Russo fought with me every single word of this chapter, just so you know.

Tagging: If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

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When he pulled back from you, hands still on your body, you felt the tears in your eyes that you’d fought back for the majority of his deployment. “Billy?” He nodded, the hand on your neck moving up, fingers caressing your cheekbone, brushing over your nose and lips and then dropping so that he could pull you into his chest. “You’re here.” Silently, you cried against him, hands gripping his jacket tightly, the stiffened material rough against your face and beneath your fingers.

“I am.” He swallowed, letting out a loud sigh. “I’m right here, and I’m not goin’ back.” The two of you stood in Billy’s living room for long minutes, neither of you speaking. He smells like the desert, smells like… You couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t describe it, and so you stopped trying, instead focusing on how solid he felt, how warm he was. “Hey.” Billy broke the silence, squeezing you once more. “Can we sit, I wanna… I need to talk to you.” Yeah, but… You nodded as you pulled away from his body but didn’t let go of the jacket, unwilling to stop touching him, and he led you over to the couch. Billy’s hand moved up, fingers closing around yours and gently pulling them away from the material before he used his free hand to remove his jacket and reveal a long-sleeved shirt, tight against his chest. He tossed the jacket unceremoniously to the end of the couch and then dropped down onto the cushions, looking up at you expectantly. “C’mere.”

This is different. The last time Billy had come home from deployment, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to get your clothes off and get into bed - and now he wanted to talk? But you didn’t question it and sat carefully on his lap, tucking your face against his neck and shoulder and pressing a hand to his chest. “I…” You didn’t know what to say, and so you waited. He’ll start talking. He’ll … But he didn’t, and the two of you sat in his sun-splashed apartment silently, arms around each other for longer than you thought you would. The beating of his heart even beneath your palm, you slowly relaxed against him, the concern you felt replaced with a sense of calm that you hadn’t felt since before he’d left in the first place.

“So.” He cleared his throat, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I’m home early.” Yeah, I mean… “After that last mission, I transferred back to Force, but my … services were no longer needed over there, in my old unit.” He took a breath. “Rather than try to find me a place doin’ some bullshit for three and a half weeks, I got discharged early.” Billy’s hand moved slowly up and down your arm as he talked, the feeling a welcome one. “Not even a month early, but… it’s still somethin’.” Billy sighed, squeezing you more tightly. “That last mission we did, the one… the one I called you after?” He paused, and you heard the tremble in his voice. “It scared me. It scared… scared Frankie. We coulda died. Prob’ly should have died, you know? It’s like everything I… we did over there this time led to that, and we were bein’ punished for all the shit…” He stopped talking, stopped moving his hand and simply held you. “I can’t tell you much, just because… I won’t, but I need you to know that I only did what I had to do. I did what they told me to do so that I could get back home.”

“Billy, you don’t have to…” You sat up, wanting to look at him, wanting to touch his face, watching as he turned it toward you. “Of course you did. You… fuck, Billy, you don’t get to... “ Trying to find the words, you licked your lips, shaking your head. “You can tell me whatever you want - all of it, nothing, some of it… whatever you need. That’s why I’m here, that’s what…” You finally brought your hand up to his face, the remains of the bruises and scrapes you’d seen over the Skype call barely visible. “All I care about, Billy, is that you came home. You told me once that being over there is different, right?” He nodded, eyes focused on your face. “I get it. You can’t pick and choose what you do or how you do it. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. On this couch, with me.”

Billy chewed on his lower lip, watching you silently. Your fingers combed through his heard - long and thick, but soft in a way that surprised you. “I killed a lot of people.” His eyes narrowed, but it wasn’t in anger, the expression he wore was one of regret. “I… ‘I point, you shoot’ is what he said to us, and we did. All of us. Me an’ Frankie and Gunnar and the rest of ‘em. But it was… we had to. For months.” Billy shook his head, but you didn’t move your hand, didn’t look away. “We did their dirty work, and now… now I... “ Billy’s eyes closed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over, and I’m back, and now I can focus on you and us and Anvil.” Anvil? Did something change?

“Anvil, Billy? Are you…” He finally smiled, cheeks going round as he nodded his head. “What? How?!” You smiled too - you couldn’t help it.

“Schoonover’s home too, he got hurt on our last op, just like we said someone was gonna, but he’s gonna… we’re gonna work it all out, and I won’t have to go through all of the… no hoops to jump through, no waitin’ on a bank loan, no…” Billy’s voice was filled with excitement as he spoke, barely able to get a sentence out. But why’s his jaw... “I’m gonna talk to Frankie when he gets home next month, see if he’ll help me, see if he wants to be partners.” That’s good. “I’ll know more then anyway, and it’ll…” Billy stopped, shaking his head. “But no more of that.” His tone changed, voice going lower. “I don’t wanna talk about … I wanna…” You saw the change in his eyes, saw the way his body shifted. He leaned in closer to you, lips finding your cheek before they returned to your mouth, this kiss slow. He’s back. I get this… all the time, now. He’s not leaving again. He nipped at your lower lip as he broke the kiss, taking a breath. “I’m gonna take you to bed.” You nodded, arms going around Billy’s neck, foreheads pressed together. “And I’m gonna…” He curled his lip, groaning. “You know what I’m gonna do with you, but…” He kissed you again, his grip on your hips tightening. “But first… I need a burger and a beer.”

You laughed, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it, eyes opening as you pulled your face away from Billy’s. “Really, Russo?” You raised an eyebrow as he laughed with you, nodding seriously. “After all these months, you’d rather have a…”

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning back in with a smirk still on his face. “You try goin’ thirteen goddamn months without bein’ able to choose what to eat and drink, yeah?” You rolled your eyes, tugging on the ends of his hair with both hands and watching his reaction - still the same, the hiss leaving his mouth without pause. Good. “Plus…” Billy kissed you again, teeth closing around your lip harder than normal, one hand sliding up beneath the bottom of your shirt to skim the skin of your lower back. “Plus we’re both gonna need to eat before tonight.”

---

“Russo, you’re going to have to help me.” You groaned, trying to keep a firm grip on his wrist, which was hanging over your shoulder. “Billy, I can’t... “ You tightened your arm around his waist, closing your eyes. I have to. “Lieutenant Russo.” You said his name in a stern voice, feeling him stiffen next to you. “I know you are currently drunk off of three beers and a shot, but I need you to at least try to help me get you into your apartment.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “‘M sorry.” You heard him sniff, focused only on the entrance of his apartment building, which was less than a block away. “I didn’t…” Billy cleared his throat, standing up straighter. “How far are…”

“Less than a block, Billy. I can see your place.” You continued walking forward, able to guide him better since he wasn’t slouched against you anymore. “Just gotta get you to the doors and -”

“I got this.” He began taking larger unsteady steps, and you glanced upward at him, watching as he focused on the sidewalk in front of him, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. Oh, Billy. “We’re gonna get there. I’ll get you home.” It only took a few minutes, but the two of you made it to his building, Billy gripping the railing tightly as he carefully walked up the stairs, pulling the glass door open. “Elevator.” He pointed, laughing. “I’m fuckin’ home. No more desert. No more Orange. No more bullshit...” What? Alright, Billy. You crossed the lobby with Billy, him swatting your hand away as you pressed the button for his floor, feeling both of his arms wrapping around you from behind while you waited. “Thank you.” You felt him kiss the top of your head - the only part of you that he could reach, and even though you were slightly disappointed at the turn the night had taken, you knew that you couldn’t stay mad at Billy for long. There’s plenty of time.

Billy leaned back against the wall of the elevator, eyes closed. “Gonna get you into your bed, Russo. I’m sure you missed it.” He groaned, nodding. When the door opened, he let you lead him toward his apartment, using your key to open the door. He pulled away from you once inside, walking unsteadily across the room and using the furniture to balance as he untied and pulled his boots off, throwing them toward the front door. Billy disappeared into the bathroom in his socks, the door closing behind him, and you stood your ground, looking around you. In the time he’d been gone, the place hadn’t truly felt right, even filled with his possessions. But he’s back now. His bags weren’t by the door anymore; he’d lugged them into his room before the two of you had walked down the street for your meal. His coat was still tossed over the arm of the couch, and as you slipped off your own shoes, removing your jacket, you put a hand over your mouth, closing your eyes. He’s here. It wasn’t just that he was back in the United States, that he was done with the military, that he’d spent the night across the table from you, eyes dark and full of laughter in the low light of the bar - it was the simple fact that a room with Billy in it immediately felt like home, even when he was only there for a few minutes.

“You stayin’ the night with me?” Head snapping up, you saw that Billy was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, which was bare. He took his clothes off. Billy was wearing only a pair of olive green boxer briefs, the color making his skin seem even paler. He’s lost so much weight. “You should. Definitely. Stay with me tonight.” Billy licked his lips, biting the lower one as he used his shoulder to push off of the wall and moved toward you. For a split second, as you watched him move, gait slightly unsteady, hair wet and hanging over his forehead, you thought of the other women he’d been with, the way he’d likely spoken to them, inviting them into his bed - but with the next words he said, all of those thoughts left your mind. “You should stay here every night with me, because I love you.”

Your mouth opened in surprise as Billy reached you, pulling you into a tight hug. He said your name as he held you against his chest, swaying slightly back and forth. It was the first time he’d said those three words to you in person in over a year, and hearing them, your tears started again, sliding down your cheeks silently. “Of course, Billy.” You nodded, scratching your nails up and down his back, hearing and feeling him groan against you, one hand cupping the back of your head. “Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” You pushed him away from you, watching as he winked, stumbling backwards and into his bedroom, not bothering to turn the light on. You made quick work of your own routine - locking the door, brushing your teeth, using the bathroom and quickly changing into one of Billy’s t shirts before you followed into his bedroom, hearing his even breathing even though you couldn’t see him well. “You asleep, Russo?” He mumbled a reply as you pulled the blanket back, climbing in next to Billy for the first time in over a year. Oh God.

Before you’d even fully stretched out, Billy rolled onto his side and toward you, hand seeking out your hip and moving upward beneath the material of his shirt, fingertips sliding forward and up the skin of your stomach before they came to rest just below your breasts. “I’m sor...sorry.”

“For what, Billy?” He stroked your skin for a few seconds before answering, lips pressed to the back of your shoulder. “You don’t have to apolo-”

“I didn’t wanna g..get drunk.” He kissed your shoulder again. “Wanted to come home and have a beer and then show you just… how much I fuckin’ missed you.” He nuzzled against your back and neck as he spoke, lips close to your ear. “I’m a ligh...lightweight now” Yeah, that’s what happens when you don’t drink a thing for a year, Billy. But you didn’t say anything, just sighed and let your body relax against his as he hooked a leg over your knee. “I drank a lot of water in there j… just now. ‘M gonna make it up to you tomorrow mornin’, yeah?” He paused, breath warm against the side of your face, his beard scratching your cheek. “And prob’ly tomorrow afternoon, too.” You turned your face toward his, kissing him quickly.

“Go to bed, Billy.” You kissed him again, feeling him nod. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” He settled back onto the pillow and you turned your head back, getting comfortable. You could feel his breath hitting between your shoulders, feel his forehead against the back of your head… and then, not even three minutes later, his grip unconsciously tightening on you, Billy was asleep, the soft sounds of his deep breathing filling the room. Welcome home, Billy. “Love you, Billy.” Comforted by the feeling of him behind and around you, you fell asleep too, a small smile on your lips.

---

You woke to the feeling of someone kissing the back of your neck, and for a split second you were horrified - but then remembered that Billy was home early. It’s him. Shifting slowly, you rolled onto your back, looking up and seeing Billy’s face only inches from your own, his eyes clear. “Hi.” He waited until you acknowledged him before speaking again, eyes tracking the nod of your chin. “Do you know,” he asked, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth slowly and deliberately. “I woke up in the middle of the night to piss, and when I saw you asleep on the bed next to me, I thought I was dreaming? That was back in fuckin’ Kandahar and I’d wake up for real, and you’d be gone?”

“I’m here, Billy. Just like I said I’d be.” Your hand was on his chest, palm flat but fingers bent slightly at the tips. “It’s not a dream.” And it won’t be ever again.

“I know,” he said simply. “But I still…” He shook his head back and forth, licking his teeth and then running his tongue over his lower lip quickly. “I owe you.” Yeah? You raised an eyebrow in silent challenge, watching him. “So, if you want to… we can do this one of two ways.” Billy leaned down, lips against your cheek. “You can take that shirt off because I know you got nothin’ on under it.” He took a deep breath, his hand moving to your hip and gripping it. “Or… I can rip it off of you, and we can see what happens.” You gasped at his words, nails digging into his skin. “You choose.” You’d get what you wanted either way, but large part of you wanted the Billy that had first returned to you - afraid to admit how he felt and what he wanted, unwilling to compromise his lust and frustration at being gone for the better part of a year for something as insignificant as feelings.

The other part of you ached for the tenderness that Billy had shown you the morning he left - wanting and needing the proof that he still felt for you what he’d promised before he shipped out and while he was overseas. It doesn’t matter. It’s him both ways. “Billy” Your hand moved upward, sliding behind his neck and pulling him down to you. “It’s your call.” You kissed him, pulling the top of your body off of the mattress to be closer to him, and when you pulled away you shrugged. “I’m not that fond of this shirt though.” He grinned at you after letting the words sink in, his lips twitching. You choose. Whatever you need.

“Sit up.” You moved without pause, hands settling in your lap. Billy sat up too, remaining on his knees as he rose to his full height. “Lift up your arms.” Raising them toward the ceiling, you felt as he gripped the hem of the material, pulling it up. “Fuck.” He hissed the single word out as he pulled the shirt off of your body, ridding you of the only item of clothing that you wore. “Better than I remember.” He was looking at your face while he spoke, but you knew he meant the rest of your body.

“Billy.” You reached down, pulling the blanket away from your waist and moving to your knees, his eyes finally lowering, lip caught between his teeth. Got you. “I’ve waited a year for you, right?” He nodded, watching as you moved, hands going to his shoulders. “Waited and thought about you touching me for twelve months.” He brought his hands to your hips, fingers digging in as you lowered your mouth to the side of his neck, lips barely glancing off of his skin. “So fucking touch me.” You bit down on the last word and Billy sprang into action, pulling your body closer to his by the hips, your name coming out in a low growl as he dropped his head to your shoulder, teeth scraping against the skin. He moved his hands upward, releasing his grip to slide his palms smoothly up your ribs, thumbs settling beneath your breasts as his mouth made its way along your collarbone and toward the center of your chest. Fucking finally.

“Lay down.” He spoke without lifting his lips from your skin, tongue swiping over it as his hands moved again - one on each breast, mouth descending lower as you leaned back. “On your back.” His tone was low, voice quiet but full of authority, and you knew that you’d never get tired of hearing Billy tell you what to do - not in that tone, at least. You did what he asked, dropping your hands from him without protest, palms flat on the mattress next to you as Billy adjusted, hovering over your body. He’d removed his hands from you too, grabbing fistfuls of the blankets as he swung a leg over your hips. “All those things I said I missed about you?” He leaned down, kissing you as he spoke - your neck, your chest, your chin - “I meant every single one of ‘em.” He kissed you on the mouth, surprising you with the gentleness of the action. “Scares me how much I love you.” He was whispering, mouth next to your ear. “Feels like it can’t be real.” He took your earlobe between his teeth. “Feels like somethin’s gonna happen and change it, you know?”

“Not happening, Billy.” You sighed, hands up from the blankets and back on his skin again, nails scratching his back. “It’s not going to change.” He kissed you again, lowering his hips against yours, his arousal apparent as he rolled them into you. “You’ve got me.” Billy sighed, moving one arm to slide it beneath your body, lifting you slightly off of the bed and toward him. You’ve had me for years. “I need you, Billy Russo.” He nodded at your words, kissing you with a bruising intensity, lips smashed together until neither of you could breathe. “I love you, Billy.”

“And I love you, too.” He said your name, face a few inches from yours, one long lock of hair hanging over his eye. “But right now, I need to fuck you.” You gasped at his words but pulled one of your hands away from his back, groping for the drawer of his nightstand. “What are you doin’?” He licked his lips, meeting the arch of your back and the slight buck of your hips with his own. “You got somthin’ in there we can use?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed, feeling your fingers close around the box. “Bought ‘em two months ago, I didn’t want to be…Ohhhhh!” He moved one hand to where yours was, pulling the box from your hand as he sat up straight, tearing it open. The new position caused Billy’s stance to widen, length pressing against your inner thigh as he settled. Fuck, Billy. “Those gotta come off, Billy, I want to see -“

“No.” Billy shook his head, fingers tearing one of the packets away from the strip. “I don’t… I can fuck you just as well with -“

“No, Billy.” You pushed up on your elbows, surprising him. “Take. Them. Off.” You reached out with one hand, closing your fingers around him through the material of his boxer briefs, stroking gently. “You want to see me, I want to see you, too.” He moved quickly, swinging his leg over yours and pulling on the elastic, ridding himself of the clothing. Billy wrinkled his nose and sniffed, but you saw the fire in his eyes.

“There. You can see.” Billy’s hand closed around himself, slowly moving up and down. “See what I do when I think about you, hmm?” He raised one eyebrow, lips pressed together. “That what you want?” Your gaze locked on Billy and the movement of his hand, you didn’t reply for a few moments. “You wanna wat-“

“No.” It was your turn to move, pulling your legs up and beneath your body, hands reaching out to push Billy’s away. “No, I don’t want to watch.” You kissed him, sucking on his lower lip before pulling away. “I want you in my mouth, Billy Russo.” He hissed out another breath at your words- the sound becoming familiar to your ears again. “And if you come in my mouth before you make good on what you owe me, we’re going to have a problem.” He groaned, snapping his teeth together as he nodded.

“Got it.” As he spoke, he used his free hand to push your head down, giving you time to scoot back on the bed. You let him guide you, and by the time Billy had settled back into a more comfortable position on his knees, the backs of this thighs resting against his calves, you were poised to take him into your mouth. Billy’s fingers were still wrapped around himself, and you nodded quickly, inhaling and closing your eyes as you extended your tongue, seeking out just a taste of him. Billy groaned your name out as your lips made contact, sealing around him as you moved, and he let go of himself, his hand moving to your shoulder. You braced yourself with that hand on his thigh, using your other one to stroke the inches of him that you didn’t have in your mouth. I missed you, Billy. All of you.

His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you in a rhythm that you quickly fell back into, and the minutes fell away as both of you got lost in the action, focused only on what you were doing and feeling. The groans became grunts as Billy gently flexed his hips, the hand on your shoulder sliding further down your back, and you knew that by tightening your fingers on his leg, you’d leave marks - but you didn’t care. Marking each other had never been a priority before, and though it still wasn’t, the way you were touching each other wasn’t about ownership; it was simply about making sure that the other was actually there - right in front of you and in the moment. Sliding your lips back up toward his tip, you twisted your wrist near the base, sucking harder than you had before. He pulled on your hair, causing you to sigh against him, the vibration traveling downward.

“Hey.” He fought to get the single word out, and though you were reluctant to pull away, you knew that he needed you to. “You… I need you to stop.” Billy’s voice was rough, his fingers disentangling from your hair as he stroked the back of your head. “Come on, come here.” You removed your mouth from him with a final lick and a quiet ‘pop’, glancing up at him. “God, when you look at me like that…” He grinned at you, giving you a second to raise up, on your knees in front of him, lips swollen and wet. “I’d ask if you were ready for me, but I can fuckin’ see… the sheet’s soaked, and you…” He cut himself off, surging forward and pushing you back against the mattress, legs still folded beneath your body. You felt his hand moving down your side and over your hip, squeezing the flesh there before he moved it between your bodies, thumb brushing over the sensitive area between your legs. You moaned at the contact, knees spreading slightly beneath him and Billy’s smile grew even as he kissed you, thumb joined by another finger, dipping lower before being removed completely. “I’m gonna fuck you now.” You nodded, breathless as you felt him wrinkle his nose, your hands on opposite sides of his jaw.

“Yeah, Billy. You are.” You groaned as he bit your lip, arm sliding around your lower back and bringing you back upright, still kneeling. He handed you the condom packet, eyes dark. Me? Billy didn’t speak, waiting until you pulled the rubber out and used a hand to hold him steady, unrolling it over him as his eyes closed halfway at your touch. His fingers tightened against your lower back, pulling you closer, and he nodded once at you, glancing down as you did the same. He sunk down slightly, adjusting his angle as you lined him up with your body before taking a deep breath. “Fuck.”

He thrust his hips toward you, and though you were expecting it, it was still a shock to feel him inside of you again, hard and thick, without warning. You cried out his name, legs tensing as you balanced yourself to counter his thrusts, one arm winding around his shoulders while the other hand tangled in his hair. Billy’s grip on you tightened, his free hand pressed against the back of your hip, holding your bodies so tightly together that you could feel his hip bones against yours with each thrust. The position you were in didn’t allow him to move deeply, but it didn’t matter - it felt incredible, him moving within you, hands on your body. It felt right- your face buried in his neck, fingers in his hair. “Billy, I need…” You couldn’t even get the words out, wanting only to feel every inch of him, to feel his body pressed down against yours. “Please.” Wordlessly, he nodded, withdrawing from you and letting you lay down on your back before maneuvering over you and hitching one of your legs over his hip.

The next time he slid into you, he did so slowly and purposefully, savoring the feeling of it just as much as you were. Though you wanted to close your eyes at the sensation, you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as Billy’s lips parted, upper lip curling slightly and then a smile spreading over his lips before he hung his head, mouth finding the swell of one breast as his back arched. You wrapped your legs around him unconsciously, fingers raking over his back as Billy sucked on your nipple, never letting the movement of his hips slow. He was bracing himself with one hand on the headboard, fingers gripping the wood tightly, the other one fisted into the sheets next to you. Though you knew that people would call the position boring, there was nothing you liked more than having Billy above you, his face and upper body on full display, him in total control of the situation, your body doing everything that it could to simply respond to the movements and demands that his made. “I need to feel you.” He raised his head, lower lip between his teeth, eyes full of something you couldn’t read. “I need to know you still…” He lowered his body, mouth meeting yours as he let go of the headboard, his hand moving through your hair and his weight settling against yours, even as he kept moving his hips.

Billy’s angle changed as he moved, and you cried out, the sound swallowed by the man on top of you as he lengthened his thrusts, kissing you hungrily. Still what? You had the single thought and then couldn’t think anymore as he moved the hand in the sheets up to your neck, fingers digging in where it met your shoulder, but the pressure of his thumb light against your throat. “Billy…” You whispered his name, feeling your body respond to the new touch, feeling your muscles tighten, the heat building. “Billy, I…” He kissed you harder, cutting off your words, and you moved your hands down, urging him into you at a rapid pace, feeling his heart beating against your chest. He was groaning with each movement of his hips and you knew he was close, knew that he was trying to prolong things. No, I need you. You turned your head away from his, feeling the grip on your hair change, the fingers against your neck tighten slightly as his mouth made contact with your clavicle again. “Fuck, Billy.” You rocked your hips into his, humming quietly as you turned back, pressing your lips into the sweaty skin just in front of his ear. “I’m so glad you’re home, Billy.” It was a struggle to get the words out, each thrust of his hips leaving you almost breathless, but the following three words weren’t difficult at all. “I love you.” He gasped and you repeated the words, lips moving over his beard and a quiet exhalation leaving your throat once you were done. “Love you, Russo.”

He came with a grunt, crying out your name as his mouth slipped from your skin, hips slamming into yours one final time before they continued moving, much slower than before, and the sudden change of pace was enough to send you over the edge too, fingers tightening on Billy’s skin. Shit. He collapsed on top of you, breathing hard, and after a few seconds, you unwound your legs from his waist, feet flattening against the blankets. Oh my God. You both laid silently for a few moments, catching your breath, and then Billy said your name again, clearing his throat. “Hey.” He used his fingertips to push hair away from your forehead, licking his lips. “I gotta tell you somethn’ alright? And you can’t…” He closed his eyes. “I …” Anything, Billy. Anything you need. You nodded, one of your hands reaching up to mimic the action with his hair, running your fingers through the long strands and pushing them back, though you knew they’d just fall again. “When I was over there, sometimes... “ He paused, and you watched his eyes darken. “Sometimes, knowin’ that you were here waitin’ for me was the only thing that made it… the only thing that got me through those ops.” He sniffed, leaning down to kiss you. “You tellin’ me that it didn’t matter what I did as long as I came home to you?” You nodded, fingers on the back of his neck. “I had to believe you meant it, that it wasn’t bullshit, that… that you’d still be here.”

“I did mean it, Billy.” Your voice hoarse, you closed your eyes, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter, you… you came back, and…”

“It should matter, though. It should matter that even though it was what I had to do, it wasn��t what I should have done.” He swallowed, eyes moving over your face. What? “I love you. And I did what I needed to do, because I needed to come home to you. I needed… you had to be here for me.” He sniffed again, and you noticed that his eyes were shining. “I never had that before, even when I came home to you last time. That wasn’t… this is real.” Something happened over there. Not just that last op, either. Something changed. You stayed silent, watching Billy but not wanting to interrupt. “It was wrong. All of it, and the only thing that was right over there was Frankie an’ me, and even that…”

“Billy?” You stopped him with a finger held to his lips, shaking your head. “It’s going to be ok.” You kissed him, tasting the salt on his skin. “You’re going to be ok.” He nodded, pulling his hips back and sliding out of you in one fluid movement, pulling the condom off and dropping it into the trash can like he’d done so many times before. “We’re going to be ok.” He settled back onto the bed, opening his arms to you, and you allowed him to pull you close without hesitation, closing your eyes as he kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah. We are.”

---

Billy made good on his word, the two of you staying in bed all day, only getting out to use the bathroom or eat. By that night, both of you were exhausted, it taking all of your strength to shower quickly before stripping the bed of blankets and sheets and falling onto the bare mattress. “I’ll make it tomorrow,” you mumbled against his mouth, feeling Billy laugh quietly. “Just washed a bunch of sheets the other day, and…” He murmured assent, and the next thing you knew it was morning, the two of you waking covered with only the thin blanket from the back of the couch. It was Sunday, and so you spent that day with Billy, too, but you made it back to your apartment by late morning because you had a fully stocked refrigerator - and both of you were starving.

The two of you lounged around, watching Neflix and slowly getting back to how you’d been before he left, but you knew that it was going to take time for Billy to adjust to being home - something that Maria had also warned you about. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. He was quiet often, staring into space, sometimes balling his hands into fists, jaw clenching unconsciously, but as soon as Billy caught you looking, he’d offer you a smile or a wink, and things would seem normal again. You hadn’t noticed these things the last time he’d come home from deployment, but after spending so much time with him since, you noticed everything out of the ordinary, even if it was only his mannerisms or the way he spoke. It’s fine.

You cooked dinner together that night, moving around in your kitchen as if no time had passed, Billy’s hands on your hips or lower back often, one or both of you finding excuses to touch and kiss each other. It felt good to have him home, felt right to have him there with you, and the apartment finally felt full, Billy’s laugh ringing out as you sat down and ate, as you cleaned the kitchen and finally made your way to bed. As you sat on the edge of your mattress, waiting for Billy to finish in the bathroom, you heard a chiming noise coming from his bag. What’s that? It happened again, and you realized that it was the sound of a phone ringing. Who’s calling him at ten at night? You frowned, biting on your lower lip. Curtis? But… no one knows he’s home, and his phone’s … You felt unease as Billy reentered the room, towel hanging low on his waist.

Your eyes swept over his body, ignoring the scars and discolored and bruised areas, focusing instead on his skin, on the way he’d dropped weight and put muscle on in his arms and chest, the way his cheekbones were more pronounced than you’d ever seen them. “Billy, your phone…” You took a breath. “Not that one,” you said pointing as he reached for his iPhone, which was sitting on the bedside table. “I think it’s in your bag.” He dropped onto the bed, leaning over and unzipping the front pouch. He’s not hiding it.

“This is the phone I had over… in Kandahar.” Billy held it up. “Still had the plan through the end of this month, so I kept it.” He licked his lips, turning his body and bringing his feet up into the bed, one knee bent and the towel falling back to expose a pale thigh. “Been waitin’ for a call, and I think I just got it.” Billy lifted the phone to his ear after pressing the screen a few times, and you watched his face, as it went from impassive to excited in only a few seconds. “Yes.” Billy grinned, listening for a while longer and then put the phone down onto the bed between you. “Exactly what I’ve been waiting for.” He pressed the speakerphone button and then ‘play’, and a voice that was vaguely familiar filled your ears.

“Hey, Lieutenant, it’s your Colonel. Sorry to call you so late but I just heard back from my contact, and he wants to set up a meeting with you in the next few days about your facility. He’s aware of the funding situation, so as long as you’ve got the basic information ready to go about what you need, we can get things rolling within the week.” The man on the other end of the line coughed and then groaned, laughing quietly. “Feels good to be back in the States, doesn’t it? I’ll be glad to keep working with you, Lieutenant.” There was a pause and then one final sentence. “You’re going to have everything you want.” Your heart was beating quickly, and your eyes moved from the phone to Billy, lips pressed together. Anvil? Is this about…

“That’s Schoonover. You met him once before, I think, when I was in the hospital?” You nodded, feeling a slight chill run through your body at the mention of his name. “He’s in the hospital or in some rehab center right now for his arm, but he’s been… workin’ hard to keep up on his end…” Billy trailed off. “Hey.” He reached over to you, hand cupping your cheek. “Do you still have that file for Anvil here?” You nodded, still uneasy but feeling less upset. It’s just a military contact. No big deal. “I’ll need it, I won’t call him back until tomorrow, but…” Billy leaned forward, kissing you on the mouth. “It’s all gonna happen for me. For us.” You kissed him back, fingers tangling in his damp hair. “This time next week, I could have a facility, be scoutin’ for employees and…” He grinned at you, face only an inch or so away from yours. “You’ll be right there with me.”

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