#instead of doing anything useful of course. it’s just this and the rings rotating in my head. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swarvey · 8 months ago

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paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you convince harvey to go in the maze with you; harvey has some trouble sleeping. warnings -> not nsfw: mention of shane's cliff scene | nsfw! mdni. p in v, oral sex (reader receives), reader and harvey share a drink before wc -> 5025

a/n: i swear this chapter just. wrote itself. i think i blacked out writing half of it but i hoped y'all enjoy!!!, if there is any chapter where i recommend you to listen to the song in the title, it's this one!!! pls <333

also i'd love to hear where you guys think this is going heh

ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9

paper rings masterlist

chapter eight: i can see you -> "but what would you do if i went to touch you now?"

Harvey wouldn’t necessarily say he was a terrible sleeper.

Sure, he had his nights where the blankets wouldn’t feel quite right and the pillows refused to agree with him, but even then, he would typically fall asleep one way or another. Eight hours of undisturbed sleep was always his goal, and a couple of cups of coffee throughout the day would never fail to give him the push he needed. Although he used to be quite the night owl during his time at university — to the point where he had a regular rotation of energy drinks in his fridge — Harvey found he now preferred waking up early and having a slow start to his day.

That night, though, the clock struck an hour he hadn’t encountered in years.

3:43 A.M.

He knew it was going to hurt him throughout the next day, especially when he would inevitably have to open up the clinic and prepare for any patients. He knew it was unlike him, that logically, he should be reaching for his bottle of melatonin and taking a couple of pills to lull him to his dreams. He knew, of course, he knew, he was a doctor — he’d heard all of it throughout med school, how essential sleep was in everyone’s daily routine.

But how could he?

How could he allow his worn, blurry eyes to close and sink into the exhaustion weighing down his body, when you were fast asleep beside him?

It was wrong. Everything about the situation was completely and utterly wrong.

First off, he was absolutely not supposed to be in his bed, watching you peacefully doze with the blankets half-covering you. He resisted his urge to scoop you up into his arms and pretend the scene was normal.

Secondly, your clothes were not on your body, but instead were scattered across the bedroom. Harvey could feel your bare back just barely grazing his arm with every breath you took. As he glanced to the floor on his side of the bed, he could vaguely make out the shape of your bra, blushing at the memory that tagged along with it.

Thirdly, he should be asleep — he should have been asleep hours ago.

Yet, there he was, contemplating what choices had led him there in the first place.

A few hours earlier

“Harvey,” you said, crossing your arms and giving your best friend a deathly stare, “stop being such a baby.”

“Y/N, you of all people know I have never been fond of Spirit’s Eve,” he reasoned, holding his hands out in defense. “I am not stepping foot in that maze again. I refuse.”

Suddenly, you felt as if you were ten again, scowling before dragging Harvey off your farm. Your pet looked at you and wagged its tail as you bolted past it, tilting its head at the man who was begrudgingly letting you take him with you. You’d invited him to dinner at your place before the festival as a “treat,” though you really just wanted the opportunity to persuade him. After all those years, though, it seemed your friend was still the same ball of anxiety he’d always been.

“Please, I even tried doing it by myself last year, I couldn’t make it past the first turn. I’ll do anything else!” Harvey all but begged, and you glanced back at him with a skeptical stare. “I swear.”

You paused your steps, the cold, Fall air blowing on the back of your neck. “Really?” you asked, thinking of ways you could test his promise. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

Kiss me.

“Come to the mines with me.”

“What?! Absolutely not! I’ve treated the wounds you’ve gotten from that place — after countless reminders to be careful, mind you,” he chastised, and a smile twitched on your lips at the sight of his concern. “I wouldn’t last five minutes!”

“Exactly,” you responded bluntly. “But I bet you’d make it at least five minutes in the maze.”

He frowned, and when he didn’t reply, you decided you had to pull out your ultimatum.

Sighing, you turned around and forced yourself to hold back a grin at the sound of Harvey’s knowing groan.

“Oh, not this, Y/N, you can’t pull this again—”

“It’s fine!” you interrupted, beginning to walk away from him. “It’s totally fine, Harvs. I’ll just go in there, alone.”

“Please, this trick has worked on me enough in the past, but I won’t budge this time around.” Sure. As if you couldn’t already hear his determination wavering.

You shrugged. “Alright. Hopefully I’ll have fun in there, all by myself.” You stopped, turning your head slightly so you could emphasize your voice. “Without my closest friend. Who I haven’t gone to this festival with in years.”

You could practically see his defense crumble, closing your eyes and smiling triumphantly as he defeatedly walked up to you. “Fine,” Harvey sighed, and you peeked with one eye to see him shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Yes,” you laughed, grabbing his arm once more and excitedly heading to the festival you’d waited all year for.

As a kid, you had always loved Spirit’s Eve — the music, the food, the costumes, and, most importantly, the maze. You didn’t get to experience it too often, since you usually had to head back home by that time of the season, but when you did, it’d been some of the most fun you’d ever had. Before getting to know Harvey too well, your grandfather took you through the maze every year, keeping your hand tightly in his as he calmly took the lead. Whenever you flinched or shied away in fear, he would stop and reassure you. You still remembered how he’d kneel in front of you, meeting your teary, wide eyes with his own loving gaze.

“You don’t have to be scared, kiddo,” he said, patting your shoulder. “Your grandpa’s here to protect you. Besides, soon enough, you’ll be strong enough where you’ll need to protect me!”

He never failed to get a laugh out of you, no matter the place or time. It was back then you’d decided you would always try to be brave, and before you knew it, you were tackling the maze all by yourself, walking out triumphantly with the treasure in hand each time.

That is, until you met Harvey, and your visits to your favorite attraction were put on hold.

You couldn’t really complain, not when it meant you got to do arts and crafts with him at the kids’ table instead.

At your age, though, Harvey wasn’t allowed to have any more excuses. As the two of you entered the plaza, you were prepared to head straight to the maze, making a beeline for it when—

“Oof!”

“Oh my, I must apologize!”

You recognized the overly formal voice almost immediately, rubbing your forehead as you looked up at Elliott’s apologetic face.

“Are you alright?” he asked rapidly, grabbing your shoulders and checking you up and down. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much, especially on this already frightening night! Ah, Harvey, you are of medical expertise. Please, check our dear farmer and make sure she’s fine.”

“Elliott, please,” you laughed, shrugged off his hands, and nudged his arm. “It was an accident.”

“And she’s survived worse things,” Harvey chimed in. “I see you’ve already begun to enjoy the pumpkin ale?”

“What?” the poet questioned, running a hand through his silky hair. “Just what makes you think that, my friend?”

“Hey, if it isn’t the doc!” Shane seemed to answer his question for him, his voice a little too bright to be sober as he walked over beside Elliott. He perked a brow at you. “And he brought the farmer, too. Shocker.”

“Hello to you, too, Shane,” you greeted, noting the half-empty glass of ale in his hand. “You going to behave tonight?”

He huffed, offering the rest of his drink to you. You gladly took it, taking a sip and relishing in the delicious hint of sweet pumpkin. “You’re just a damn ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

You gave Shane a satisfied smile as he shoved his hands in his pockets, the three of you listening to whatever ghost story Elliott was blabbering on about. All jokes aside, you had been a bit worried about Harvey’s friend. You’d known for a while he had a drinking problem, even sitting with him on the dock one night to have a few drinks with him, but never knew the extent to its severity until you found him beside a cliff one stormy day.

Since then, you made sure to check in on him once in a while and drop off a basket of peppers at Marnie’s whenever you got the chance. Your acts seemed to pay off, as the once cold man seemed to have finally warmed up to you, and as much as you despised the company he worked for, Shane proved to be a good friend. You knew him as much more than the town drunk, but as the pepper popper-loving, chicken caretaker who cherished those close to him.

Which is why you didn’t miss the curious glance he gave Harvey, to which the doctor quickly looked away and flushed pink.

Huh. Interesting.

“Some say, to this day, if you enter the Cindersnap Forest past midnight, you’ll—”

“There she is. We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” You sighed out of relief at the sound of Haley’s familiar tone, practically melting into her as she grasped your arm. “Ugh, is he telling you the story about the woods, or whatever?”

Elliott gasped in offense. “Haley, I assure you, the story has much more meaning behind it than that.”

Before he could go on, Leah poked his arm, sparing the group of another tangent. “That’s enough, El,” she said amusedly. “Come on, weren’t we headed to the maze?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” You surged forward, gesturing for everyone to follow. “You promised, Harvey!” you called out, and the look you threw at him dared him to run away.

You heard him begin to protest once again, but he was cut off by a much louder, enthusiastic voice.

“Are you guys going into the maze, too?” You turned to meet Alex, accompanied by Sam’s bright grin. “You’re not scared, are you, farmer?” he taunted, leaning forward so his eyes were right in front of yours.

“Me?” You pressed a hand to your chest, looking back at him in shock. “Of all people? No way.”

The jock shrugged and backed off, flashing you a confident smile. “Whatever you say. If you need a bodyguard, you know who to call.” With that, he and his friend walked into the entrance, bumping into each other’s shoulders as they joked around.

Haley scoffed. “What an idiot. You could definitely kick his ass.” Leah laughed, and you noticed the soft smile that sat on the blonde’s lips at the sound. Who would’ve thought? Suddenly, you felt like you were third-wheeling.

Thankfully, Harvey came to your rescue, marching in front of the three of you with a renewed passion in his step. He looked over his shoulder, and you almost didn’t recognize the look in his eyes.

“Well?” he asked persistently. “Are we going?”

Harvey knew he was being painfully obvious at that point. He also knew Alex didn’t have bad intentions at all, that, if anything, the two of them had a common goal: to keep you safe.

He’d be lying if he said he cared, though.

If you’d told him a year ago he would be leading a group of people into the maze he’d feared pretty much his entire life, he would call you a liar. If you added in the fact he was doing it to impress you, he would tell you to set up an appointment with him so he could check your head. Yet, there he was, egging you and everyone else on to get their asses in the attraction already so he could prove you didn’t need some gridball player to protect you.

The second he stepped foot through the entrance, though, Harvey seriously questioned if it was worth it.

He never liked scary things — he was an awful person to watch horror movies with, and he had always been easy to startle, as you liked to prove time and time again. He didn’t really see a point in them. Why would he want to be terrified, when he could relax and enjoy himself instead? Logically, there was no real appeal to be scared.

Although, it seemed all logic was out the door, seeing that he’d already zoned out and gotten lost.

Fuck.

You’d been right there moments before, he swore on it. As Harvey frantically looked around him, though, he found he was alone, surrounded by the thick brush of the maze’s walls and chilling noises that gave him goosebumps. Sometimes, he truly questioned how he’d earned a college degree and even passed medical school with a brain like his. It seemed to stop working every time you were in the picture. I am an unbelievable idiot.

“Harvey?”

He blinked. He wasn’t being tricked, was he?

“Harvey, is that you?”

As the voice grew closer, Harvey realized it was not, in fact, a trick, and that he recognized the figure in front of him.

“Maru,” he breathed, shoulders slumping in relief. “God, I’m so relieved.”

She laughed at his reaction, and Harvey faintly remembered a time when his heart would have pounded at the sound. That was in the past, though, when he’d first moved to the Valley.

When he thought you had slipped from his grasp.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked. “I thought you hated this place.”

“Yes, well, uh, Y/N has always enjoyed it, so I thought I would give it another go.”

She glanced around them. “So, you came here with Y/N?”

“Yes, along with Leah and Haley.”

“Uh-huh. And just how did you get this lost?”

He sighed. “You tell me. Mazes have never really been my forte.”

She laughed again as she walked in front of him, gesturing for him to follow with a wave. “Come on, we’ll find them together.”

“Thank you, Maru.”

“Anytime, Harvey.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they trekked on, both listening for any familiar voices. Harvey had to admit, he felt much better with Maru there; her confidence as she walked reminded him of you. He couldn’t help but notice, though, the odd look in her eye, as if she were thinking something he didn’t quite understand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing his pace. “You look a bit bothered.”

She didn’t reply right away, but paused her steps to look at him. “You . . . really like the farmer, don’t you?”

Oh, no. “Wh-What? I mean, of course I do, we’ve known each other for such a long time—”

“You know what I mean, Harvey.” There was no hostility in her tone, no bite. If anything, she sounded amused. “I think everyone’s seen it except you two.”

“I—” He paused. What was the point? “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted.

“Well,” Maru started, placing her hands on her hips, “you better treat her properly, okay? Honestly, if you felt that way, you should have asked her out in the Spring! What’s with all this dodging around and pretending you don’t feel it? Before you know it, it might be too late.”

There was an edge to her tone with those words, but Harvey didn’t have time to process it, distracted by the large shadow approaching them. Instinctively, he grabbed Maru and pushed her behind him, his own fear making his heart feel as if it were about to fly out of his chest.

“Is that you, Harvs?” At the sound of your voice, he could have cried in relief. “Seriously, how can someone get lost so quickly?”

You walked up to him with your two friends by your side, immediately eyeing the hand he had wrapped around Maru’s wrist. He dropped it, grateful the darkness hid his embarrassed face.

“I guess I got a bit ahead of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. Haley was glaring daggers into his skull. “Sorry for worrying you.”

You shook your head, sighing. “I mean, weren’t you the one who was terrified of coming in here in the first place? What’s gotten into you?”

“Actually,” Maru interrupted, stepping out from behind him, “Harvey was just talking about how he isn’t feeling very well.”

You perked a brow at him. “Really? Please don’t tell me you’re going to throw up in here, again.”

Harvey side-eyed Maru quickly — who refused to meet his glance — before nodding. “I am feeling a bit nauseous,” he agreed, and honestly, it wasn’t a complete lie. He was sure one more scare would cause the dinner you made him to end up on the side of the path.

“Gross,” Haley commented, taking Leah’s hand and continuing on with her. “I am not sticking around to deal with that. Come on, Maru.”

“Wait, where are you—”

“Drop him off, Y/N! Come find us when he isn’t about to yack all over the maze.”

Harvey gave you a sheepish smile as you gave him an exasperated look. “Come on, then, you big baby,” you said, though he managed to catch the smile that took over your scowl. “Let’s get you home.”

The walk back was somehow worse than he remembered. Harvey swore the route changed every turn, but you seemed to walk confidently through each pathway. He had always admired how level-headed you were in such tense environments, unable to fathom how you were able to tackle such places like the mines or the woods at night. Then again, you’d always been the braver one.

“You know where we’re going, right?” he questioned, just to make sure.

“Oh, I have no idea,” you replied, a bit too relaxed for his liking. “We’ll figure it out.”

“What?!”

Snap!

Harvey let out a shout and jumped. Despite his antics, his arm still shot out in front of you protectively, and you immediately began looking around to find the source of the sound.

Suddenly, the path wasn’t dark anymore.

A glowing, blue light filled Harvey’s eyes, and it took a moment for him to adjust to the brightness before he saw what was in front of him.

There it was. The blue spirit he’d seen under your steps the day you moved in.

“Blue? What are you doing here?” you asked it casually, pushing his arm down and kneeling to greet the small figure. “You nearly gave him a heart attack, you know.” You nodded your head towards him, and the Junimo directed a small squeak upwards in apology.

“You . . . you’re friends with a Junimo?” he clarified incredulously. He dropped down beside you and stuck his hand out, eyes widening as it touched his finger.

You smiled. “Harvey, this is Blueberry. Blueberry, Harvey.”

“You’re friends with a Junimo,” Harvey softly repeated, looking at you in awe. “You never cease to amaze me, truly.”

You didn’t respond, instead keeping your eyes on the spirit. “Care to show us the way out?” After letting out a responsive squeak, Blueberry turned around and began to light the way.

As the two of you followed your tiny friend, Harvey couldn’t help but keep track of each time his hand brushed against yours and the way your eyes kept darting over to his. The entire situation was tempting him; you, in the dark, alone with him. A scenario filled his head before he could even register what he was thinking — images of you, your back up against the hedges as he pressed his lips into your neck, his arms wrapped around you as you cried out his name, over and over as he took off your top—

“Hey, is that it?”

Harvey’s thoughts were cut short by your voice, looking down to realize Blueberry was no longer there. Looking into the distance, though, he could see the light of the entrance, the sound of people talking and kids laughing flooding his ears. He let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding, gladly matching your quick pace out of the cursed place.

“Finally,” he breathed. Harvey had never been more glad to see Pelican Town’s bustling plaza. “I thought we’d never make it out.” An exaggeration, sure, but it was the only way he could express his feelings.

You scoffed lightly, patting his back. “Please, stop being so dramatic. You owe me, by the way. I totally would have gotten the treasure by now if it weren’t for you.”

He paused. His fantasy still lingered on his mind, and for once, just once, Harvey decided to be a little impulsive.

“How about a glass of wine, then?” he offered, trying his best to look at you as naturally as possible. “I ordered a new one from a winery and it just came in, unopened. I think you’ll like it.”

You hummed in thought, then nodded. “I think that’ll do,” you replied nonchalantly. Was that a hint of pink in your cheeks? “Just a glass, though?”

He chuckled, then began to walk towards the clinic. It’s just a drink, that’s all. Nothing more. We’ve drank together before. This is normal.

“However many you’d like, Y/N.”

Maybe his answer should have been different, more precise.

Maybe, if he’d forced himself to have more self-control, he would have walked you home after the two of you finished the entire bottle.

Maybe then, he wouldn’t be spilling the rest of your drink onto your shirt as he kissed you, absentmindedly grabbing the glass and setting it on the coffee table as he pressed you into the couch, lost in the flavor of the wine mixed onto your lips.

“Harvey,” you gasped out, your hand grasping his hair as he lived his fantasy and moved down to your neck, sucking on a spot that made you moan as he hummed into your skin. “God, fuck, Harvey, please.”

The buzz of the alcohol gave Harvey the courage he needed to slip his hands under your shirt, working his way up your sides before grazing over your breasts through your bra. He made quick riddance of your top, throwing it somewhere he couldn’t care for as he finally lifted his head to take in the sight he’d been longing to see.

You were more gorgeous than he’d imagined, especially with your stained red lips and flushed face.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said out loud, voice slightly out of breath and rough.

“So are you,” you replied, sitting up and pressing a quick kiss to his lips as you stood, “and we are not doing this on the couch.” He couldn’t have agreed more.

Seeing you lay on his bed was something Harvey never thought he would actually get to witness, making him all the more committed to making you feel pleasure you’d never experienced before as he unclasped your bra. He managed to stir a couple more beautiful sounds out of you as he dragged his thumb over your nipple, pinching it lightly between his fingers. Then, you gently pushed his chest away and began unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it off the bed.

This is happening. This is actually happening.

Suddenly impatient, Harvey licked into your lips again as he pushed down your pants and kicked them away. He slipped his fingers over your underwear and groaned at the wetness he was already met with.

“I think these can go, too,” you suggested, tugging at his belt loops.

He laughed, a giddy feeling he hadn’t felt before filling his chest. “Yes, ma’am.” Just like that, he found himself naked in front of you, his hard member hitting his stomach as he knelt at the foot of the bed and dragged you forward. A smile lingered on his face at the sound of your laugh, though it quickly melted into a whine as he spread your legs and licked up your thigh. He knew it was mean; he could see how needy you were, how much you wanted more, but he desperately wanted to bring you as close to the edge as he could before he fully indulged you.

Harvey continued his movements, slowly moving further up before he finally reached the place you’d been begging him to touch, closing his lips around your clit. Your legs, thrown around his shoulders, tightened around him at the feeling of his unrelenting mouth. His arms locked around your knees to keep you in place as he stuck his tongue into you, using your loud cries as encouragement.

“Yes,” you moaned, hand grasping the sheets beneath you tightly. He groaned into you as he licked into your soaking entrance, bringing a hand up so he could sink a finger into you. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”

“God, you taste perfect,” he gasped out, watching your reaction as he worked his hand. You squirmed at his movements, eyes shut and mouth open in a silent cry. Wordlessly, he added another finger. “You look so pretty for me, honey.”

Your eyes opened at that, meeting his gaze with a look he was sure would be engraved into his head for the rest of his life. “Say it again.”

“You,” he bent down again, his lips grazing over your pulsing heat, “are beautiful.” His mouth joined his fingers, persistent on your clit as his fingers pressed into a spot that made you cry out. Your hand reached down and dug into his hair, pushing him closer to you as you came.

After a few moments, Harvey slipped his fingers out of you and wiped your slick off his chin with the back of his hand, getting back up on the bed to meet your lips. His cock was practically begging for release, sensitive to the touch as it grazed against your lower half. He moaned into you, breaking away only to rummage into the nightstand drawer beside his bed for a condom.

“I need you,” you panted, and it only encouraged him further to quickly rip the packaging and pull the condom on. “C’mon, hurry.” Your legs found themselves around his torso as he let out a breath of laughter.

“You never were the most patient, were you?”

Before you could retort, he pressed the head of his cock into you, both of you gasping at the motion. God, you were tighter than he’d ever imagined, and so warm. He swore you were made for him and him only, watching as you seemed to suck him in. Harvey’s eyes closed when he bottomed out, opening to see you teary-eyed and biting your bottom lip. His heart skipped a beat — had he been too rough?

He stopped. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice threaded with worry and guilt. He pulled out slowly, biting back a moan at how good it felt to move. “We can stop, I’m sorry—”

Your legs drew him back in with a force that made him lurch forward and grab the headboard for balance, and upon looking down at your face, Harvey realized he had never quite seen you that angry before. He swallowed nervously.

“Harvey,” you gritted out, “I swear, if you stop again, you won’t be seeing the light of day tomorrow.”

Part of him wanted to test your threat, but he decided to save it for another time, focusing instead on how inviting it was to sink back into you. His brow was knitted in pleasure as he started to move, his hips moving at a steady rate as they met yours. You moaned at the feeling as he leaned down to kiss you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he groaned, picking up his pace. “Can you hear yourself? Hear how good you are for me?” You nodded, attempting to hide your eyes behind your arm as the sound of him pounding into you filled the air. He quickly moved it and met your eyes which were hazy with pleasure.

“Harder,” you breathed out.

When had Harvey ever said no to you?

He lifted your knees and pressed them to your chest as he found a new rhythm, caging your body in between his arms as his thrusts became deeper. Then, he moved an arm down to massage your clit with his thumb, managing a half-smile at the loud reaction it elicited from you.

“Fuck, there!” you cried, your hands flying to his back and no doubt leaving marks — not that he was complaining. “Right there!”

“There you go, honey, come on—”

“Harvey—!”

You let out a wordless cry as you tightened around him, and Harvey was sure he had never felt so good in his entire life. He could feel your release wet the inside of your thighs. His thrusts became long and deep as he finished shortly after, a low moan escaping his lips as he came. He stilled inside of you as you both panted, sweat dripping down his face.

Harvey winced as he pulled out, mindlessly tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash beside his bed. He managed to find his pants in the darkness of the room and put them on before walking over to the kitchen for water.

“Are you alright?” he asked, handing you the cup.

“Never been better,” you mumbled tiredly, gladly taking a few sips before setting it aside.

“You sure? Do you need anything?”

“Stop worrying, Harvs, just go to bed.”

He smiled, grabbing the sheets from the bottom of the bed and dragging them over you. “I’m guessing you won’t be making it back to the farm tonight, then?” Harvey questioned, though he didn’t get a response. Your eyes were already shut. He wasn’t surprised — the mixture of wine and sex was getting to him, too, a wave of exhaustion beginning to hit him.

As soon as his head hit his pillow, though, realization set in, and thus began his sleepless night.

There he was; half-naked with you beside him in bed, and no clue how to approach you in the morning.

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barrenclan · 2 years ago

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AYOOOOO NEW ISSUE!

First off, wow. just the visual stuff is really cool, especially how Pinepaw and Nightberry’s eyes glow when their discussion gets intense, or Pinepaw surrounded by the storm in the cover art. And, of course, the multi-pawed art of both him and Night. Idk if you were going for biblically accurate angel vibes without the wings, but no matter what you were going for I really had to stop reading to admire it

On somewhat the same topic, I tried searching for meanings to both the plants and the animals, and sadly I couldn’t find anything for the berries so maybe symbolism wasn’t intended, but I’ll drop everything I found anyway because i think it’s kinda funny a cat comic made me research stuff. I found the wild rose represents love in some cases, but can also represent secrets, which I think the second makes more sense in terms of the current issue, but also love does seem to be important to him, both romantic and platonic. I also found the fox represents intelligence and luck, so yeah, very Nightberry. She’s wise and wants Pinepaw to stay safe. I didn’t know if the burrowing owl was included, but I decided to search for it anyway, and found stuff about laughter being used to guide one to enlightenment and also to share spirituality, which could make sense for Pinepaw if he is really the darkness before the storm, and his quest for knowledge? But probably wasn’t intended, haha

Speaking of that. what! All my boy just wanted was some knowledge!! He didn’t mean to find a mass graveyard!! What makes him so dark Nightberry!!! He did nothing wrong he doesn’t deserve an edgy prophecy to loom over his head!!! He’s BLUE!!!! He’s the clear sky!!!! Speak to yourself you JET BLACK CAT!!!!! anyways

The [spoiler name] being for 4 characters is very what!!! Because yeah maybe the fox and the owl r characters so thats 2 but who r the other two!!!!!!!!! The skeletons???? I am very confuzzled. Obviously you don’t need to try to point me in the right direction, especially if you want secrets, but this will rotate in my head until i figure it out!!

Also I appreciate the last art piece being of the assumedly reburried gravesite, alongside the watchful eyes of that owl. The entire issue was about that one location, and the fact that it’s there makes me feel like Pinepaw might be going back to that spot sometime.

Another great issue! 10 mysterious skeletons out of 10!

YAY NEW ISSUE TIME!

You're the first person I've seen pointing out Nightberry and Pinepaw's eyes glowing, so well spotted. :) I was moreso inspired by Hindu art where a ring of arms are often depicted behind someone than by seraphim angels, but the effect is similar. I'm glad you liked it.

Hehe, it makes me happy that my comic causes people to do research. As it should be. The flowers and fox are not so much representative of their symbolic traits but instead of - and this is partially answering another question of yours - characters! Cause lots of characters in this are named after plants. I'll give you a hint for the 4 [spoiler name] characters; two of them are going to appear in issues very soon, 1 of them is depicted only by implication, and the last one is so obscure it really couldn't be guessed. But I love hearing your ideas anyways!!

Haha, poor Pinepaw. Getting called "the harbinger of doom" can't be fun. But does knowledge come at a cost?....

The place depicted on the last page is in fact a different gravesite, cause there's no tree at the place Pinepaw found the skeletons. But you're right in that it is a very important site!

Thanks for commenting as always :D I love it every time.

#ask #pinepaw #nightberry #wild rose

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lemonjoonah · 4 years ago

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The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

#jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook #bts hybrid au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts the garden thief #bts smut #jungkook x reader

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argisthebulwark · 3 years ago

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Bryn being so broken and fragile after tld “dies” that the members of the thieves guild make sure that one of them is always at least in the same room as him so he doesn’t try to do anything crazy. No one dares even say tld’s name Incase he shatters, so they use a code word to talk about her instead. One day some idiot fucks up and says her name and poor Bryn just completely breaks down. Instantly half the guild is at his side to try to put him back together while the other half is ripping the idiot a new one for being so thoughtless and careless

Some days he pulled himself together and went through the motions, he almost felt like himself again. Some days it took all his energy to simply exist. He’d gotten used to the hush that fell when he entered a room and the varied attempts at hidden pity in the eyes of his friends. Brynjolf found his seat in the Flagon, irritated by the sudden lull in their conversations. He already knew how bad he looked, he didn’t need to be reminded.

He didn’t remember what it was like to be alone. They��d been sneaky about their rotations but once the shock passed he’d noticed. Vex went about his work with him in the mornings, Rune sat with him in the Cistern through the afternoon and chatted about random memories, Thrynn and Vipir often found him in the evenings and Delvin drank with him deep into the night. Brynjolf wondered who’d gotten stuck watching while he slept. Mercer had been distant but watchful, he was probably in charge of the latest hours.

Sleeping was hard, too. He hadn’t dared to enter the Guild Master’s chambers after that first attempt. He’d smelled her perfume and seen where she’d tossed his blankets halfway off the bed. It cracked the last of his resolve. Brynjolf had claimed an unused cot in the Cistern the next night, not trusting himself to sleep in that bed.

The rest of the thieves had taken to safe topics in his presence, mostly the history of the Guild. They’d taken a sudden interest in discussing the Grey Fox at length. Brynjolf wondered what they talked about when he wasn’t around, if they discussed how badly he was doing. Weeks had passed since his last job. He’d done nothing but struggle to exist in the wake of her death.

Delvin sat in the same spot as every other night. He clapped Brynjolf on the arm in some mock show of cheer before ordering their usual drinks. He stared up at Delvin through the haze of exhaustion, the old man’s face a mask of nonchalance. Everyone had tactfully avoided discussing what Karliah had taken from them.

“How you doin’?” Delvin asked, the earnestness in his voice new. Brynjolf heard some of the vendors around the Flagon begin to shut down for the evening. He flinched, feeling like he’d poked at some mental wound. She’d been the one to bring in those vendors. She cleaned up the Guild enough for them to start showing up.

“Fine.” Brynjolf grumbled and tried to shove away the urge to think about her. It was too much to consider. He couldn’t do it.

The same quiet settled in. Brynjolf’s food cooled, forgotten on his plate. He stared at the chuck of wood missing from the table. He knew what dagger had landed there, he’d been there when she’d stabbed the table after a particularly difficult conversation with Maven. Vex and Tonilia were discussing something about the Grey Fox’s body not turning up. He wondered if they were going to start searching for old Guild relics.

“Hey, Brynjolf.” Syndus, one of the merchants was standing awkwardly at Delvin’s side. He was looking at Brynjolf with that unbridled pity that made him squirm. “I just wanted to say I’m real sorry.”

“For what?” Brynjolf grunted and he heard slapping footsteps behind him and half a dozen shouts to be quiet.

“For Saryn, of course. I heard she died.” Syndus’ nervous chuckle was the last thing he heard. That terrible ringing filled his ears and Brynjolf felt like his brain was suddenly separate from his body. Vekel’s hand was on Syndus’ shoulder, urging him out the door and away from the threatening edge of Vex’s quickly drawn blade.

A few more bodies cloistered around the exit of the Flagon but Brynjolf couldn’t seem to name them. He couldn’t think of any name that wasn’t hers. He felt hands on his arms and heard someone calling his name but they all felt so very far away.

“You’re okay, kid.” Delvin’s voice caught Brynjolf’s attention and he nodded, his eyes stuck on that gouged chunk of wood. Saryn was the one to stab the table. Saryn who had snuggled into his bed and left his blankets a mess. Saryn who had given her blood, sweat and tears to the Guild. The girl that stood on her toes to kiss him and snuck her cold fingers under his armor. Saryn was dead in some forgotten ruin.

“She’s dead.” Brynjolf choked out, the numbness fading until he lost his breath. He saw a sea of faces staring at him but couldn’t discern them. A few more hands lingered cautiously on him but they felt wrong. Somewhere in the distance Syndus was professing his apologies but Brynjolf didn’t have the energy to acknowledge him.

“You’re going to be okay.” Someone promised him but Brynjolf didn’t believe them. He wouldn’t be okay until he saw her again.

#brynjolf #tes #skyrim #writing #asks #anon #death mention #grief

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buckleyblueyes · 4 years ago

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ahh that's amazing! thank you in advance. I got this idea into my head: what if there is this one time they're all on a call, and maybe it's something that hits a little too close to home for Buck, maybe it's playing on his fears and insecurities, but the moment Buck sees what they're dealing with he gets SCARED, and freezes, and subconsciously grabs Eddie's hand, because Eddie makes him feel safe. He is his best friend (who he's in love with, ofc) after all. Eddie is well. Surprised. Very much.

Anon! Thank you so much for your patience with this one! I know it's been ages since you sent it in. I hope it's worth the wait and that I did justice to your prompt! (CW: drowning)

Eddie feels Buck tense up beside him as soon as Bobby tells them where they're going: Splash Zone Water Park. They have calls to pools fairly often, and Buck always gets a little bit tense going into it, no matter how long it’s been since the tsunami. Eddie presses his knee against Buck’s in the truck, offering a silent comfort to his friend. Buck seems to push down his fears by the time they pull up to the scene, forcing himself to shift into Firefighter Buckley mode as they make their way through the park. Eddie lets himself be relieved, until they arrive in front of the wave pool.

Of course it’s the goddamn wave pool. Even worse, there’s a nine year old boy laid out on the stone patio next to the pool, dripping wet, brown hair plastered to his forehead. He’s unconscious, bleeding from the side of his head, and his chest isn't rising and falling like it should be. Buck freezes immediately at the sight, reaching out for Eddie with his right hand, and wrapping his fingers around Eddie’s left wrist. It takes Eddie a moment to realize that Buck is feeling for his pulse, grounding himself.

Eddie does his best to steady his breathing and heart rate once he realizes what Buck is doing. The sight in front of them is upsetting to him, of course it is, but he knows it’s worse for Buck. He’s not the one who walked around for hours not knowing if Christopher was dead or alive. He’s not the one who almost died himself (at least, not that day.) “It’s okay,” he murmurs quietly, so only Buck can hear. “I’m here, I’m alive. That’s not Christopher.” It’s purely a medical call at this point, so he makes no attempt to move away from Buck as Hen and Chimney begin administering CPR to the boy. His mother is crying, wailing, begging them to save him. His lips are turning blue. Buck’s grip on Eddie’s wrist is like a vice.

“We got a pulse!” Hen finally calls out.

Buck’s grip doesn’t loosen, but Eddie does hear him let out of a heavy breath. He twists his hand out of Buck’s grip just enough that he can slide his arm up, so Buck is no longer holding his wrist, but is holding his hand. He gives Buck’s hand a firm squeeze and finally hazards a glance up at the man in question. Buck is staring at their intertwined hands now, confused. At least, Eddie decides, he’s distracted from the drowning boy. He runs his thumb along the back of Buck’s hand, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

He knows they’re crossing some kind of line here, that hand holding in the middle of an emergency scene (even one where their presence turned out not to be strictly necessary) is not something that he’ll be able to brush off as strictly platonic. It doesn’t scare him like it used to, though. Maybe it’s because he watched Buck date Taylor, so he knows how much worse it would be to not have Buck, or maybe it’s all the therapy he’s been in since the shooting. Either way, Eddie’s not afraid anymore. He and Buck have been on the edge of something--or maybe everything--for months, so if holding Buck’s hand will help ground him, keep his mind from thrusting him back in time, then it’s a risk Eddie is willing to take.

Hen and Chimney are loading the boy into the ambulance--he is breathing again, still unconscious and probably severely concussed, but alive--when Bobby finally makes his way over to them. He takes in the haunted look in Buck’s eyes, and the fact that their hands are still tightly clasped together, and frowns.

“You boys alright?” He asks, but he’s looking at Buck.

Buck nods slowly. “I--Yeah. Just...Brought up some bad memories.”

“This was a rough one,” Bobby agrees. “I’m gonna take us off rotation for a while when we get back to the station.”

“Thanks, Cap,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t say anything.

Bobby smiles in that warm, fatherly way of his, looking between them. “Take care of each other.”

As if there’s any universe where they wouldn’t.

Eddie doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand until they get back to the station, and only because he needs two hands to cook.

“I’m not hungry,” Buck says, still hovering in Eddie’s space.

“You were about to eat before the call came in,” Eddie insists gently. “You need to eat.”

“And you’re gonna cook for me?” Buck shakes his head. “I think I’ll take my chances with starvation.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, pulling out a griddle and a clean spatula. “I think I can handle grilled cheese, Buck.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes in surprise. “Grilled cheese?”

“Maddie may have mentioned making it for you a lot growing up.” Eddie flushes slightly at having to admit he’s talked to Maddie about Buck. “I thought it would be comforting.”

Buck stares at him, eyes wide and mouth turning up into a tentative smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles back. “Now, go sit down.”

Eddie bustles about the kitchen, pulling out the good buttermilk bread that Chimney always buys instead of the whole wheat bread that Bobby puts on the list, the pre-sliced cheddar cheese, and the butter. “After we eat, how about we video call Christopher?” It’s late in the afternoon, he’ll be home from school by now.

Buck lets out a long exhale. “Yes, please.”

Eddie flips the bread slices on the griddle and places the cheese slices on the toasted side. “Great.”

“I--” Buck starts. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

Eddie looks up from the sandwiches. “How to ask for what?”

“To talk to Christopher,” Buck draws patterns on the tabletop with his index finger. “I know I’m not--He’s not mine.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything at first, just plates up the sandwiches, brings them over to the table, and sits down next to Buck, who takes a small, tentative bite.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“What?”

“You said Christopher isn’t yours,” Eddie picks up his sandwich, but doesn’t bite into it. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Buck is staring at him again, confused.

“Look, I don’t know what we are anymore, Buck,” Eddie admits. “Things are different between us now, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that you love Christopher, and that he loves you just as much. If that doesn’t give you a right to call him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, then I don’t know what does.”

“I…” Buck’s eyes fill with tears.

"It's okay, Buck." Eddie reaches over to wipe Buck's tears with his thumb. “Just eat your grilled cheese."

Buck does as he’s told, making it halfway through the sandwich in three bites. “You know, there’s no law that says we have to wait until we finish eating to call Christopher.”

Eddie raises a skeptical eyebrow, looking up from his own half-eaten lunch. “Will you actually finish eating if we call now?”

“Absolutely.” Buck takes a big bite to prove his point. “See?” He says, through a mouthful of food. Something so childish shouldn’t be so endearing, and yet, somehow it is.

Helpless, Eddie pulls out his phone. Carla answers on the second ring. “You better have a good reason for interrupting math homework.”

“I do.” Eddie assures her. “Can you put Chris on?”

Carla gives him a look, but does as he asks. Christopher is grinning--probably excited to have his math homework interrupted “Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kid.” Eddie can’t help but return his son’s smile. “How’s the math homework going?”

Christopher’s smile falters slightly. “Oh, it’s good.”

Somehow Eddie doesn’t totally believe that, but it’s not important now. “Listen, I’ve got somebody here who wants to say ‘hi’, is that okay?”

The boy’s smile comes back even wider than before. “Is it Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough that the phone can catch it. “It’s me.”

“Hand the phone to Buck, Dad!” Christopher is bouncing with excitement. “Hand the phone to Buck!”

He does, scooching his chair closer so he can still see the screen himself, and before Buck can even greet Christopher, the kid is launching into a monologue.

“Buck! Dr. Lassiter assigned us a big, semester-long project for science class, can you pleeeaaase help me with it? I want to build a model of the solar system, but it has to be totally accurate.”

The tension Buck's body has been holding onto since the phrase “water park” fell from Bobby’s lips is finally starting to fade.

“Absolutely. Do we want it to move?”

Christopher’s eyes widen on screen. “Yes!”

Buck laughs. “Well then, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Eddie smiles softly, as Buck and Christopher begin planning their project. He knows he must look like a lovesick fool, but to be fair, that’s what he is. He rests one hand over the crook of Buck’s elbow, and doesn’t miss the pink that appears across his cheeks.

“Alright, you three,” that’s Carla’s voice, “Somebody still has math homework to finish, and I’m sure you boys will have to get back to work soon.”

Eddie sighs. Carla is right, unfortunately. But Buck looks lighter than he has all day. “We better do what Carla says.”

“Will you come over after work?” Christopher asks. They won't get off until after Christopher will already be at school, so Buck will probably go to his loft after work. But Eddie doesn’t doubt now that Christopher has asked, Buck will manage to make it over to their house by the time Christopher is home from school. He wonders if it's too soon to ask Buck to sleep in his bed, instead of going to his loft at all. It's yet another line to cross, but at this point Eddie's lost track of all the lines they've crossed.

“You bet,” is Buck’s answer. “Now get back to your math!”

“Okay, dad,” Christopher says, rolling his eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm. It’s meant to be a joke at Buck’s expense, but Eddie can see the breath catching in Buck’s throat all the same, so he pulls the phone from his hand and takes over.

“Good-bye, Christopher! We love you!”

“Bye Dad! Bye Buck! I love you guys, too.”

Buck finds his voice again. “Bye Superman!”

“So,” Eddie says, putting the phone down. “Do you feel better now?”

“Eddie…” Buck hesitates, dropping his hand down so it rests over Eddie’s. His skin is warm and rough and unlike earlier Eddie can actually enjoy the feeling. “Thank you.” He’s thanking Eddie for more than just the grilled cheese and the phone call, and Eddie knows it.

His answer is simple. He turns his hand over, and interlocks their fingers. “Always, Buck.”

#buddie #buddie fanfic #buddie drabble #my fan fiction #prompt fill #anonymous

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amerrierworld · 4 years ago

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Cigarette Smoke

for the request: top carol/reader smut? Thank youuu

Summary: Carol needs to get out of the house and asks you to come along.

Characters: Carol Aird x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,579

Warnings: smut smut top!Carol you’ve been warned (you’re the babysitter... again.. and things happen, plus at this point the Airds have divorced~)

You watched as cigarette smoke curled around her head. She had the newspaper spread over her lap and a cup of tea in the other hand. Inhaling deeply, the end of the cigarette lit up brightly, and you could smell the smoke where you were sitting, cradling your own cup of tea.

Harge had picked up Rindy half an hour ago, and Carol had immediately rung you to come by, before the silence could get to her.

You were no longer the babysitter- they didn’t seem to need you anymore now that they worked with two separate schedules, and so Florence would watch over Rindy when needed.

But Carol stayed in touch; she called, asked about your job endeavours, interested in your life. And she would tell you about her ideas; things she wanted to do and see, but never initiated plans to go through with it. She was stuck, and you didn’t know if you knew how to pull her free.

“Just going for the shopping, ma’am,” Florence announced as she headed out the door. You didn’t know if it was just because you were here, but her voice and demeanour were always very tight and constrained around you, like she didn’t approve of something that you couldn’t put your finger on.

Carol let out a shuddering sigh as soon as the door shut behind Florence, grey smoke blowing out from her red-painted lips. Her eyes finally lifted up and met your own as you sipped your tea.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” she asked, nonchalantly, as she put out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“Where?” you asked.

“Anywhere you’d like,” she said, folding the newspaper neatly. “I need some fresh air.”

You didn’t see any reason why not, so you got up as she went to slip on some shoes, grabbing a lightweight coat overtop her cream blouse.

Carol pulled out of the driveway in the Packard with graceful ease, and you sank back in the passenger seat as you watched the landscape go by.

Once in the city, Carol bought Rindy a new toy, and you got milkshakes at a small diner. She was awfully quiet, you noticed, and she popped the candied cherry in her mouth as her eyes glazed over like she was somewhere completely different.

“Carol...” you said, reaching over to hold her hand. The physical touch seemed to jolt her out of her zone and she looked at you like she saw you for the first time that day.

“Oh.. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she sighed, “I haven’t been very sociable, have I?”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” you said, squeezing her fingers, realizing her ring finger was missing a familiar golden band.

“No, no, goodness, please forgive me,” she said, shaking her head. “Now tell me, what’s new with you?”

You smiled, and chatted for a bit as you finished your milkshake. Carol ordered some sandwiches and fries while you kept talking, and you were so enamoured by watching her eat -you had only ever seen her use cutlery, and here she was, licking the salt from her fingers and munching down on finger food- that you didn’t notice the time passing by so quickly.

Carol talked about some redecoration ideas for the house, recent drama in her high-class friend group, and how fast Rindy seemed to be growing when she wasn’t home.

“I would love to come by sometime when you have Rindy again,” you offered,

“Oh- I wouldn’t be able to pay you, darling.”

“No, not as a job. I just wanted to say hi to her again,” you smiled, “no fee. I’ve just missed her, that’s all.”

Carol seemed a bit startled, surprised by your interest in her and her daughter, but then that bloomed into a sweet, familiar smile, and you enjoyed the way she reached over and squeezed your hand this time.

“Oh, dear, look at the time,” she realized, “I should get you home.”

“I could just get a cab...” you began, but she was already waving her hand in dismissal.

“No, no. I asked you here, drove you around, forced you to go out in public with me. The least I can do is drive you home.”

You blushed, and waited patiently as she paid. It seemed so natural, to get up and help her get her arm in one of her tricky coat sleeves, and follow her out to the car, and get inside and be swarmed by Carol’s perfume when you both shut the doors.

The drive back to your home went by far too fast. It was already dark by the time you pulled up to your place, and Carol took a moment to stop and look at you from the driver’s seat.

“Thank you for spending time with me, sweetheart,” she said softly, “I know I can be... difficult, especially with what’s been happening. With me, I mean. You’re a very sweet girl for coming when I called.”

“I will always come when you call,” you replied without hesitating. The blonde was startled again, looking at you in the dark, your eyes shining back at her.

The muscles in her neck tensed, like she was contemplating something. Almost like when her mind seemed to wander someplace else, but now it was fixed only on you. And then she relaxed- like she’d been defeated in some internal battle.

Your heart jumped at the change,1 and you were filled with sudden bravery. Then, you said,

“Carol. Turn off the car?”

Without a word, she followed your command, shrouding the both of you in complete silence and darkness. You could see her slightly in the light of a distant street lamp, and then you reached over and gently kissed her on the lips.

Her hands were still gripping the steering wheel so you pressed a little harder with your lips, tasting the waxiness of her lipstick. And then she inhaled sharply, before forcing your mouth open with her tongue, letting it slide along yours. One hand reached up to grasp your jaw, and she breathed you in.

You gasped into her mouth, feeling her touch like fire on your skin. You pulled away only to scoot over and push your door open. Then you whipped your head back to look at Carol and said, barely a whisper,

“Come inside?”

Carol stepped out the car before you even managed to get off your seat. While you were out in the open, she was respectable, holding her head high and smiling like any middle-class wealthy house-wife would. And then when the door shut behind you, she was on you, clawing at your clothes.

Her mouth tasted like cherries and cigarette, and you never realized a taste like that could be so intoxicating.

“Bed?” she asked, pulling at your shirt, and you led her to your bedroom, where she promptly pushed you down on the mattress, making you squeak in surprise.

You wormed you hands up underneath her shirt, making her shiver as you explored her smooth skin. Her skirt was too tight for her to straddle you properly and she cursed in a low voice before shimmying out of it.

Once free, you salivated at the sight of her stockings and underwear, and as she pulled the blouse over her head your face was right there to kiss her chest, hold her by the waist, and pull her closer.

“Oh, sweet girl,” she breathed. Her voice always got lower and raspier after she had a cigarette, which she did after the sandwiches at the diner. You mewled into her skin, feeling goosebumps break out over your body at her words.

She got you up on your knees to help you take off the rest of your own clothes, carefully peeling each piece off of you, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed.

“Do we have to be quiet, baby?” she whispered, cradling your face to look up at her. You thought for a moment, and reluctantly nodded. You weren’t sure what the neighbours would think if they heard anything, and definitely didn’t want to cross that line now.

“Well alright then,” she purred, pushing you back on the bed. She straddled you, settling down on you comfortably. You felt the searing heat coming from between her legs, and you squirmed.

“No moving,” she said, because her eyes were fluttering shut at the friction from you moving underneath her. You stilled, choosing to run your hands over the smoothness of her stockings instead.

She leaned down and pinned your arms above your head, rotating her hips seductively, keeping her eyes on your face and a smile on her lips. Her lipstick was already smudged, you noticed.

“I realize I should have asked this first, but.. are you alright with this?” she asked, her thumbs rubbing over the pulse points on your wrists.

“Y-yes, yes, of course,” you replied, looking at the way her curls were loosening and falling into her face.

“Good,” she grinned, and pressed a deep kiss to your mouth before moving down your neck, “because I have been thinking about this for a long time.”

She nipped at your collarbone and you squealed. One of her hands came down to press a finger to your lips.

“Shhhhh, baby. Quiet, remember?” she said. You gasped in response as her tongue ran down your breast, over your nipple, swirling around your belly button.

“F-fuck,” you hissed, grabbing at your pillows. Your body rose up again as she nuzzled you between your legs, right where you inner thigh met your pelvis. A tongue licked slowly up, collecting your wetness and sweat, and you shivered.

“Carol,” you whimpered, reaching down to grab her hair. Immediately, she pulled your hand away and held it tightly over your thigh. The demand was clear, no touching.

She lightly kissed your clit, and you bit your lower lip until you were sure it bled.

Then Carol pulled away and said,

“Best prepare yourself, baby girl. Don’t make a noise.”

Once she said that, you barely had a moment to register the words before her tongue and lips dove in, unforgiving and intense.

You gasped, almost crying out if you hadn’t caught yourself, the sound trapped in your throat. Your arms and legs shook as she held you down and attacked you.

It was deadly silent in your bedroom, the creaking of the bed and your heavy breaths the only audible sounds. You were whimpering, breathing in sharply through your nose to stop your voice from screaming at how she was working you up.

Then her hand let go of yours and a finger began rubbing around your opening, wetting the tip and pushing a finger in gently, but firmly.

“O-oh,” you sighed, which earned you a stilling of motion and a pointed look up through her lashes. You pressed your lips closed and willed yourself to stay quiet again.

Her finger curled inside you and pressed against a swollen spot that had you seeing stars.

“Let it happen,” she whispered, pulling away for a short moment. Her lips suckled at your clit, and when a second finger pressed and curled inside you, the ceiling above you was replaced by swirling colours and a sense of complete euphoria.

Your eyes were shut, trying to fill your lungs with air as you recovered from the intensity of your orgasm. Then Carol was there, kissing and licking along your neck. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and pulled her as close as possible, wanting to take her in, wanting to feel her as deeply as possible.

“Good girl,” she cooed, lips brushing over your ear. The rumble of her voice made you keen, and your body heated up again instantly.

Your exploratory fingers ran down her body and pushed inside her underwear. You heard her squeal softly and chuckle as you lightly rubbed her, and she pulled back.

“Just a moment, dear,” she said, grasping your hand, “here. Let me just...”

She removed her underwear, and laid back on the bed. You pressed up against her side, burying your head in the crook of her neck.

“Wanna please you too,” you whimpered. Her hand ran soothingly over your back.

“Such a good girl,” she said, enjoying the way your body rolled against her again, “give me your hand, hm?”

She grabbed your hand, kissed your fingers, and then brought it down to her cunt. Her long legs spread a little more, and she guided your hand slowly.

“Press right here,” she breathed, holding your fingertips a little to the right of her clit, “and then rub a little- oh, yes.”

You followed her instructions as best you could, listening intently to the changes in her voice and breath.

“A little harder, sweetie,” she continued, and you added a bit more vigour, working your whole arm. Her hips bucked up, and you smiled victoriously.

She leaned over and nuzzled your neck, nearly distracting you from your job at hand.

“Would you like to go inside?” she asked, a slightly desperate lilt to her voice.

You nodded weakly, watching your fingers rub over the most sensitive part of her, entranced by her convulsing abdomen muscles, her legs and her inner thighs becoming slick.

“Go on then,” she encouraged. You looked over at her beaming eyes, encouraging and needy at the same time. You reached further down and ran a finger along her opening like she did with you.

“I’m more than ready, darling,” she gasped, “two will be fine.”

You grinned, finding humour in her nonchalance as if she was ordering another sandwich at a diner. But then when you rotated your fingers and began pressing against her silky inner walls, she gasped and shook all over.

She bit down on the palm of her hand to stop from being too loud as you picked up the pace. Carol was trembling, pulling you down to kiss her continually, wet and sloppy.

“That’s it,” she gasped, “God, I-I’m almost... shit.”

Her hand flew down as you fucked her with your fingers. She rubbed at her clit with expert precision, and that was the winning ticket. She whined into your mouth as she came, hips stilling and her body locking as she reached that peak.

You watched in awe as her eyes slowly opened at you, unfocused as she rode the last few pulses of pleasure, convulsing around your fingers.

The two of you laid there in content, sharing gentle kisses and breaths. She urged you to suck your fingers, grinning as you slurped her taste off your fingers before doing the same to her own.

“Sweeter than any milkshake,” she hummed, making you blush. She sat up a little, rearranging the pillows to relax a moment. You were going to pull away to give her some space, but her arm wrapped around you and held you close.

She kissed you right by your hairline, whispering “beautiful” with soft endearment. You sighed and captured her lips again, addicted to every taste of her, every motion of her mouth and body.

Then she pulled away, but only to light a cigarette. The smoke swirled around her head again, and then she looked at you with those stunning grey eyes,

“Do you want to try?” she nodded towards the cigarette.

“No,” you smiled, turning over on your side towards her, “I’d much rather watch you smoke.”

She laughed, and said, “alright,” before inhaling once more.

#carol #carol aird #carol movie #carol fanfiction #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #cate blanchett x you #the price of salt #todd haynes #patricia highsmith #wlw #carol x you #carol x reader #carol/you #carol/reader #merry writes

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expectingtofly · 4 years ago

Text

Painted Nails and Pride

1.7k

internalized homophobia, john being an a**hole, bisexual dean, found family, happy ending

written for day 7 of @spnprideweek

Music boomed from the park down the street and Dean tried to focus on the newspapers spread out before him, front pages covered with news about a bear attack at a campsite a few miles west. Not actually a bear attack, of course. From the tracks they’d seen when they hiked out there yesterday, Dad's money was on wendigo.

Cheering drew his eyes from the table where he, Sam, and Dad sat outside a restaurant to the people heading down the sidewalk towards the music. Banners on streetlights along the road proclaimed that today marked Roseville's 3rd Annual Pride Parade. His eyes snagged on a group of kids his own age standing on the street corner, hugging and talking excitedly. One boy had painted nails and wore a cropped shirt that exposed his midriff. As he talked with his friends, he looked around, and his eyes met Dean’s. He smiled at him, and Dean ducked his head, face burning.

An announcer’s voice echoed down the street. “Welcome to Pride,” the voice boomed. Dean folded and unfolded the corner of the newspaper, listening to the cheering, rotating the ring on his thumb around and around.

Dad snorted, and Dean glanced up at him. Arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, he watched the proceedings with a scowl on his face. Dean studied the newspapers more intently, underlining words just to look like he was doing something productive. Part of him wanted to go down to the parade, just to see what it was all about, but that was ridiculous. Only affirmed by a derogatory comment Dad made low under his breath about the people in the street.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed verbally, jostling his leg under the table. He glanced sideways at Sam, who was giving Dad a glare. Dean gave him a look that meant, don’t start, but Sam ignored him.

“Don’t say that,” he said, and Dean froze, eyes snapping to their father. Dad pulled his eyes from the street to Sam, giving him a long, steady look.

“What?” he asked after a long moment. “You one of them?”

Sam only held his gaze for a second before it seemed his courage failed. He ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled, kicking at the table leg.

Dad stared at him for another long moment, expressionless, before turning his journal around and dropping it in front of Sam. “Shut up and make yourself useful. Sooner we figure out what’s killing these folks, sooner we can get out of this goddamn town.”

He waved down the waitress for another drink, and Dean glared at Sam, who was absently thumbed through the journal pages. Returning to his own work, he snapped one newspaper closed and opened another, skimmed an article about the victim’s family. The words didn’t really make sense in his head, though, and too soon he found himself watching the people in the street again. The boy who’d smiled at him had disappeared, though, probably watching the parade.

Finding a one-off line in an article about rumors of a strange being haunting the woods, he circled it and handed the newspaper across the table.

“Nice work,” Dad said, taking the paper, but instead of the usual warmth from his praise, Dean only felt sick.

He felt about the same now, standing in Jody’s kitchen—off to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way during the frenzied preparations to attend the Sioux Falls Pride Parade. Music played from Patience’s phone, some song he recognized from Cas constantly turning the radio dial to the pop music station. Sam helped Kaia finish a sign decorated with the lesbian flag, and Eileen signed with Alex who was learning sign language in high school. Claire sat at the table painting Jack’s nails, who wriggled in his seat excitedly.

Catching Dean’s eyes, he held up the hand Claire had finished. “Dean, look!”

Dean forced a smile. “Looks good.”

“Stay still,” Claire ordered, frowning down at Jack’s hand as she painted his pinky.

This was a bad idea, Dean thought. Jody had invited them for the week, mentioning off-hand that Sioux Fall’s pride events were going on, and Dean had pushed aside the mild panic at that comment, told her they’d come visit. He didn’t know he’d be roped into joining everyone at Pride, but here he was, feeling out of place in the corner of the kitchen. Who knew how he’d feel standing at the parade.

“Want me to do yours?” Claire asked, and Dean snapped his attention back to her. She was holding a bottle of nail polish, others lined up next to her on the table, and he froze, realizing what she was suggesting.

His first instinct was to spit out, “I’m not one of those,” but guilt rushed through him for how harsh the words sounded in his head. Defensive words, unnecessary ones because there was no threat here. He didn't mean them anyway.

Swallowing them down, he glanced around the kitchen for rescue. Cas was helping Donna pack water bottles because “It’s gonna be hot out there,” but he must’ve felt Dean’s gaze because he looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. No judgement in his eyes, or Claire's either, for that matter. He had a feeling he wouldn't find any judgement in this kitchen, which should've been a relief, but he had a hard time trusting it.

“Come on, Dean,” Jack said. “We can match!”

You can do this, Dean told himself. It's just Pride, not an Apocalypse.

He tried to smile. “Sure,” he said, going to the table and sitting down, chest tight.

He chose the color blue because it felt less ostentatious than the pinks and lilacs Claire presented to him. Even so, the color looked strikingly bright in the sunlight as he stood along the street marked off for the parade, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” Cas said, touching his shoulder. Dean tensed, then felt awful for his reaction, but Cas didn’t move away, only rubbed between his shoulder blades until Dean relaxed marginally. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Fine,” he managed. Cas gave him a small smile and leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder.

A float passed with people waving and dancing on top, a banner strung across the front declaring, “Protect Trans Kids.” Jack waved a rainbow flag around, cheering along with the crowd. Claire’s arm was wrapped around Kaia’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her attempts to look unbothered by the proceedings. Dean wished he could feel that nonchalant. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know exactly what threat he was looking for, but the press of the growing crowds and the heat and noise, the bright colors and waving flags everywhere he looked was making him nauseous.

Turning back to the parade, he met Sam’s eyes. “Never thought we’d both end up here, right?” Sam asked over the noise, attempting levity, and Dean wondered if he remembered sitting outside near a Pride parade, feeling so unsure. There were plenty of other instances to remember, plenty of times John made disparaging comments that Dean either pretended to not hear or agreed with out of a panic that if he wasn’t careful, they might be directed at him next.

“This is fun,” Sam commented, watching the parade, and Dean wished he could agree.

Easy for you to say, he thought. You have a girlfriend, people’ll assume you’re straight. But he felt bad for thinking it. He didn’t want Cas to move away from him—if anything, wanted him closer, wanted his arm around him. But he felt too tense to move.

A crowd of middle-aged people walked in the parade, t-shirts reading variations of MOM HUGS, DAD HUGS, GRANDPA HUGS. Dean watched as people stepped off the sidewalk and hugged the moms and dads, some crying as soon as arms wrapped around them.

Without his permission, he felt his own eyes growing teary and he ducked his head, scraped his heel on the sidewalk.

“Dammit,” Jody said. “Where can I get one of those t-shirts?”

“We gotta do that next year,” Donna decided, and Jack gave her a hug.

“You can hand out hugs without the t-shirt,” he told her, and she grinned.

“You’re right.” Lifting her arms, she announced, “Free hugs over here!” People around them laughed, and someone took her up on the offer, telling her, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

Donna beamed. “Why yes I do.” She pulled Claire into a half-hug that Claire resisted, protesting the whole time. “Come here, Sam,” she said, yanking Sam into a hug that he had to nearly fold himself in half for. Everyone else got their turn, then she turned to Dean, holding out her arms.

Dean stepped into it, wrapping his arms around her. A gentler hug, Donna rubbing his back. Dean sunk into the embrace, the chaos around him subsiding for a moment.

“We’re family now, right?” she asked, pulling away to meet his eyes, and Dean nodded. Smiling at him and patting his arm, she turned back to Jody, wrapping an arm around her.

It felt a little easier to breathe now, his chest not so tight. The crowds around them didn’t seem so threatening, just smiling people with their families like he was with his. Eileen cheered as a float passed with an Irish LGBTQ+ coalition, and Dean smiled, easier now, not forced.

Jody pulled Donna in for a kiss that turned into making out. Claire rolled her eyes. “Ew, guys, Gross.” Kaia elbowed her and Claire’s put-on air of displeasure broke into a grin as she elbowed her back. Cas nudged Dean with a small smile when a float of pink, purple, and blue streamers drove past. For a moment, Dean's chest seized, John's voice ringing in his head, but in all the noise around them, it quickly drowned out.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he took Cas’ hand. Cas interlaced their fingers immediately, squeezing tightly, then lifted their hands and studied Dean’s nails. Dean had let Jack paint a smiley face on his pinky to match the one on Jack’s thumbs. Staring at them, he thought of a boy at Pride with painted nails, his own fears and wants tightening his chest, but then Cas looked up at him with a smile, and the memory faded into a warm glow.

“I like them,” Cas told him.

“Yeah," Dean said. "Me too.”

#spnprideweek #bluefirecas #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #userstarry #userpris #destiel fic #pride #internalized homophobia #john's a+ parenting #established dean/cas #bisexual dean winchester #inspired by my first time at pride #:)#expectingtofly writes

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spiretdoom · 3 years ago

Text

14 Days of DA Lovers - Pride

Prompt 7 (half way there boys) for @14daysdalovers~

Pairing: Cullen x Lavellan

Rating: G

Word Count: 918

The knife lodged itself deeply into the outer ring of the target, the throw clearly made with a strong arm despite the poor aim.

“Ug,” Ellana groaned, going over to the dummy that sat in Cullen’s office to grab the knives. “How do I suck at this?” she huffed, struggling to pull the last one out and needing to place her hand on the dummy in order to release the stubborn weapon.

Cullen was asking himself the same question, though he wouldn’t voice it aloud. She was a strong and capable warrior who had fought in multiple battles and sieges at this point that he was completely flabbergasted she could not aim a simple knife. It seemed, by all accounts, out of character.

“You’re getting frustrated,” he pointed out, Ellana making a loud “pff” sound at him before he continued. “You have to relax or else you’re going to end up embedding knives in my wall.”

“Your wall is made out of stone…”

“My point exactly,” he gave her a smirk, Ellana side-eyeing him before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Okay, okay, I see your point,” she caved, setting the knives down and raising her hands in defeat. She leaned against his desk, watching as he made his way over to take a knife from behind her. Her arms crossed over her chest, eyes following him closely as he lined himself up with the dummy.

“You’re too tense when throwing,” he explained, raising his arm. “You have to be loose and fluid or your throw will be too stiff. Make sure your right foot is placed forward and hold the knife like this.” He lifted his hand to show her how he held the knife, hand low enough to leave a gap between his fingers and the sharp blade while his thumb sat pressed against the hilt above the rest of his fingers.

He noticed her intense gaze, the elf taking what he said quite seriously as she grabbed herself a knife as well and played around with the hold to replicate what he did. She looked like a child learning how to use a new toy, a smile catching on his lips as the thought crossed his mind.

Once she was done toying with her knife she looked back up at him as he continued his demonstration. “Don’t try to aim, at least not right now. It’s more important for you to hit the target more than anything.” He pulled the knife back, the tip aimed towards him as the hilt angled towards the ceiling. With a swift movement he threw the knife, the weapon rotating once before lodging itself into the center of the dummy.

Ellana’s ears perked as she watched the knife fly smoothly through the air and hit its target. Her teeth chewed on her tongue lightly as she considered his instructions and demonstration thoughtfully, knowing he made it look way too easy even though he had likely perfected the moveset over the course of many years.

Pushing off the desk, she carefully took his place as Cullen stepped to the side to give her space. He placed his hands on the hilt of his sword like he normally did when he was relaxed, body slightly leaning back as a knee bent to balance out his stance. He watched her as she placed her right foot in front, moving her fingers around on the hilt of the knife until she felt comfortable with the hold. Inhaling deeply, she lifted the knife just as he did, blade towards her and hilt towards the target but slightly aimed at the ceiling.

She didn’t allow her brain to think, simply swung and watched as the knife circled once through the air and hit the target firmly. A large grin formed on her face when she realized she’d hit the middle ring of the target instead of either the outer ring or the wall. Her head turned to look at Cullen, searching his face for any sort of approval. Of course she’d find it. She wasn’t sure why he would give her anything other than that scarred lip smile of his, the man reaching out to her to rub her lower back as he stepped closer.

“That was a lot better,” he praised her, brushing her hair back and behind her ear. “Keep it up and you’ll eventually hit a bullseye.”

Ellana’s smile grew wider, seeing the pride in his eyes and gushing with excitement as the back of his fingers brushed against her cheek. “Maybe I can finally get a fair chance against Thom, too,” she hummed, looking at the target with a look of mischievous excitement.

Cullen’s brows furrowed for a moment at the statement before one blonde brow raised with inquiry. “Don’t tell me you’re doing all this just so you can win a knife throwing competition with Blackwall?” he questioned, causing Ellana to blush brightly and look away.

“What? I, uh…” She laughed nervously and pressed her pointer fingers together awkwardly. Cullen laughed warmly, shaking his head and scratching at the back of his neck.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” He teased her, hugging her waist and squeezing her gently.

“I thought that’s why you liked me?” she teased back, leaning against him and tilting her head back so she could look up at the much taller man.

He chuckled and placed a kiss on her forehead, mouth smiling against her skin as he stood there with her against his body. “Perhaps,” he hummed.

#i may or may not have googled how to throw a knife for this #hopefully no one looks at my search history...#very brief innuendo at lavellan x blackwall at the end #cause ot3 things #14dalovers #14daysdalovers #pride #dragon age #dragonage #dragon age inquisition #dragon age inquistor #dragon age cullen #cullen rutherford #cullen x lavellan #cullen x inquisitor #dragon age fanfiction #ellana lavellan #fic

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getrising311 · 4 years ago

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Working with Planetary Days

I hope it is okay that I share this excerpt from my Newsletter this month. It feels right/good to share this on Jupiter's day. Often times, I feel stuck in one place. I don't know how to move on from tasks or I struggle with even starting my day. I wanted to take the time to create an outline of options/ideas/tasks I can do based on the ruling planet for each day of the week. I think that once upon a time, College made me decide that Sundays were the days to get so much done, organize, plan, "catch up" etc- Friday and Saturday's were for indulging and forgetting about responsibilities, monday's were pure panic. Had I attuned to the energy of the days (and diving in deeper, planetary hours, which we will talk about next time) I may have navigated the days and my energy a lot better. Now I am a social worker, mental health practitioner and (baby) astrologer, trying to find the balance between self and others; solitude and socialization; responsibility and creativity; structure and response; Spirituality and Practicality; physical energy and mental energy and emotional energy; work and being still. The purpose of this 'outline' is to provide guidance, inspiration and direction on how to intentionally use our time, more so our Day to our energetic/celestial benefit. Stick around as I go over the days of the week. Monday-Lunes (Moon)- Wake up late (if you can) Express gratitude (aloud or in a journal/safe space) DEEP stretch (to your ability, if you experience a disability/limitation, I encourage DEEP breathing, belly breathing) Use 'Herbs' (Whatever this means to you) and slow, smooth music (Alternative, R&B, Country, Blues, Jazz, Instrumental, Waves, Sound Bowl if you have one) Drink your coffee/tea/tonic/elixir/etc in one spot. Don't move until you are finished with your cup. Take a drive for no reason or take the scenic route to your destination/appointment/work/home/etc. Either have comfort food or light eating (Whichever your body calls for that day) IF you have a healthy relationship with Home: Call Home or friend or anyone you can be safe with. Water, water, water, water, water, water, water, water, water, water Snuggle up with a comfort item. Practice affirmations. Tell someone you love them (or something of the sort) Tuesday-Martes (Mars)- If you are able, take a walk; pilates; yoga; Tai Chi; dance. If you experience limitations or live with a disability, move to your capacity (bobbing your head to music, stretching upper body, deep breathes, chair exercises, rotating feet/ankles, whatever you are comfortable with. I am able bodied so may be ignorant to the options here-PLEASE educate me if you can think of anything further that those limited can engage in Mars like energy). Earthing Face Masks/Steaming/Scrub Hair Masks/Deep cleaning/Salt scrub Tend to yard work (if applicable and if able) Laundry (ALL OF IT, that means cleaning, drying and folding too LOL) Any tasks you have been putting off, focus on these first. Create a to do lists, categorized by home; office/work; spirit; business, etc. Clean your Spiritual tools Clean the space you spend the most time in Work or be outside if you can. Just get out of your usual environment if possible. Brainstorming. Go to bed early if you can. Wednesday-Miercoles (Mercury) Read 10-30 minutes (Of course more if you have the time and/or attention span😉) Journal 10-30 minutes, let it flow if you can. Create or engage in Minor to do lists Create a grocery list Fill out calendar for appointments or obligations- review your planner/calendar/schedule in general Work on your budget Respond to/Send emails-Respond to/make phone calls Work on/Send out Newsletter(s) Take notes on your readings Delete emails, clear voicemail box, go through paper mail Schedule meetings on this day talk to Spirit Ask questions-exchange information Watch a documentary or informative series Grab dinner or a drink with friends Paying attention to car maintenance may work well on this day as well (schedule an oil change/car wash/fill tank/etc) Learn something new Interact with/engage with your environment (if possible, for ex: walk around your neighborhood, smile at a neighbor; if you have the space work in your kitchen/living room instead of your office; if you're working in an office, see if there is a conference room available instead of your "cube") Get a massage/self massage (if possible/applicable) Turn your phone off, or notifications off before bed. Thursday-Jueves (Jupiter) Sleep in if you can Express Gratitude (out loud or in a journal or safe space) Pray Charge and/or cleanse crystals Take a salt bath/shower Soak your feet (if you can, get an Ionized foot bath) Take one risk today, walk by faith not by sight today Get out of your comfort zone (this will look different for everyone) Buy something you've been saving for or start saving for something Try something new Water your damn plants and/or talk/sing to them Play games (board games, phone games, computer games, video games) Watch a comedy Spell work and rituals Try a new tea or elixir Consult with a friend, guide, therapist, energy worker, etc Friday-Viernes (Venus) Make up, moisturize, hair spray/gel, rings, necklaces, perfume, heels, slacks, corsets, glasses, nail polish- WHATEVER you have to put on your bodythat'ss an extra step than usual-Do it! Indulge in your first (or last) meal today Walk (or drive) somewhere scenic/beautiful Watch the sunrise or sunset. Or catch the moonlight Practice your love language with yourself or with others "Love" yourself (hint hint, wink wink) Make your "space" pretty (this can be your bedroom, living room, kitchen, garden, car, this can be social media platforms, journals) BUMP or BLAST some music Make a playlist Aromatherapy, cleanse or charge your Tools, talk to friends/family, set boundaries and don't do anything you don't want to today (if possible 😉) paint, draw, read, shop, write Take a picture (of you or something/someone beautiful) Saturday-Sabado (Saturn) Start a to do list for today and especially for the week ahead Take care of house (whatever this means to you) Meditate Study Fast (If able/applicable) Journal (esp related to your long term goals, worldly affairs/responsibilities) Clean your space and get rid of what is no longer needed (clean out fridge, throw out papers, take out garbage, pull weeds, etc) Clean your car (if able/applicable) Ask Spirit and Ancestors "What work needs to be done?" Use sound bowl (if you have one), binaural beats, instrumental music Water water water water water water water! Sunday-Domingo (Sun) Practice your skills/Review your skills Perform service (whatever 'service' means to you) Post on social media/Establish social media presence Socialize, actively engage with others and/or your surroundings (if able/applicable) Journal (check your Ego, gas yourself up or practice humility) Review/Activate spells and rituals Pray Express gratitude Choose something specifically for you today Aura cleansing (if able/applicable) I hope this is guiding and helpful to at least someone. I experience such guilt around how I spend my time during the day and this outline/list has helped me attune to the energy of the day and generally make the most out of it. This is a light hearted, intuitive post meant to guide and validate how we can use our energy. I try to be mindful that not everyone has the resources, space, freedom, privilege, ability or circumstances to engage in such activities, my only hope is that at least one thing on this list can be activated in your days.

#planetary alignment #planetary days #planetary hours #scheduling #venus #jupiter #mars #saturn #mercury #sun

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batmanaday · 2 years ago

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Detective Comics 36 (1940)

Now, this is a bit more auspicious of a start to the year, but you’ll notice this cover of Batman fighting Asians seems like a better fit for last month’s issue. Was there a mix-up at the printers? Who knows.

We start off with Batman seeing a man being murdered. He gets to him in time to hear his dying words--wouldn’t you know it, a cryptic clue--and the police happen on him, mistaking him for the killer. How will Batman ever get away from the hard-working officers of the GCPD

Oh, obviously, he just runs away from them. These are the cops who need help dealing with the Riddler, after all. Then we get some deductive reasoning that would do Adam West proud and some classic villain-shilling... there has to be a catchy way to put that... of Hugo Strange, clearly meant to be a take-off on Professor Moriarty.

Personally, I don’t think he measures up to Stryker who had a huge army and killed thousands of people with a death-ray in a blimp, but let’s forget that mass murder. Let’s just say it’s Hypertime.

Now, Hugo Strange is a character who’s still in semi-regular rotation among Batman’s rogues... although, ironically given his build-up here, he’s probably best-remembered for being a kinky sex weirdo. He’ll still have a good showing in the iconic Englehart/Rogers run and generally makes it into adaptations in one form or another, although I don’t think he’s gotten to headline a movie yet. Poor fellow just has a few other, better-known villains who fall under the same umbrella as him, so they tend to get the brass ring.

Sadly, this is a bit of a poor first showing for Batman’s first major supervillain. His big plan is to build a weather machine that blankets Gotham in fog and then steal things. While it’s foggy. And the police can’t do anything because... well, see above.

(Wouldn’t the fog also hamper his own men? Uhhh...)

This is a much longer story than we’ve gotten previously, so there’s more time for sequences like Batman thrashing a dozen henchmen before going down.

I know Batman doesn’t really quip anymore, but I think it makes him more intimidating. What’s scarier: guy coming at you or guy coming at you while screaming God knows what bullshit about bowling alleys? It’s fine if Bruce doesn’t want to do it anymore, but let’s admit that it’s not about being a better crimefighter, it’s just because he’s afraid it makes him look lame.

That’s going in my reaction images folder.

Of course, inevitably Batman goes down eventually to a blackjack from behind and instead of just killing him or taking his mask off, it’s Death Trap Time. Although Strange’s death-trap is a little... hmmm...

It’s going to take a couple decades, but this is going to end up awkward for everyone involved.

Batman breaks free and uses sleeping gas on Strange’s henchmen, starting the proud The Dark Knight Rises tradition of “wait, you have a gadget that basically lets you instantly win any fight? Then why are you beating people up?” But Strange isn’t going down so easy.

He’s even a physical match for Batman. This is surely a character that’s going to get a lot of respect in future stories.

And thus, the day is saved, thanks to the Powerpuff Girls the Batman. And this will surely be the last time people think Batman is a dangerous criminal. Oh well. Look, the first time one of these ends with the villain vowing vengeance. Which he’ll kinda get! Weirdly prophetic.

#batman #hugo strange

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whump-a-la-mode · 4 years ago

Note

I’m back here again😭 you can’t just leave it in suspense ahhhhh one more please ? Pretty please? Magician one of course ahaha

No worries! With how this one ends, I won’t be surprised to see you right back in here =￣ω￣=

I will make a masterlist for magician’s assistant eventually I promise. Last part is here.

CW//Haphephobia, mitts, collars, missing whumper, manhunts

Someone was touching them.

It was to that, terrifying, startling thought that Villain awoke the second time. It wasn’t that they weren’t used to being touched-- their status as a prisoner made their captors feel to have the right to lay their hands on them whenever they so wished. But that didn’t mean they had to like it.

And it didn’t mean they should be waking up to it, either.

There was no bleariness, this time, to the way their eyes shot open, their body jolting upwards. It was their hands-- their mitts-- that were being touched. Defensively, they drew their arms to their chest, eyes fixing upon their attacker.

To Villain’s surprise, Civilian looked just as startled as they.

That didn’t stop the villain from shaking, of course. They were already so vulnerable...

Without their collar, their cone, there was nothing to protect them. Just the mitts.

Tightly, they wrapped their arms around their chest. Supplying their own affection.

“So-Sorry, sorry about that.” Civilian sputtered, once they had recovered from their own shock.

Lips quivering far too much to allow speech, Villain’s gaze cast downwards.

“I didn’t realize you were going to wake up like that.” Seemingly realizing the extent of the situation, Civilian stood, backing away a few feet from the couch that served as the villain’s current residence. “I was just looking at your wounds. I figured it would be better cause you wouldn’t be scared and- Sorry.” Nervously, they chuckled. “Sorry about that. Really.”

Villain knew full well that a response was expected. Yet, as their fingertips dug deeper to the meat of their arms, they became aware that none was going to be produced. Not at the moment.

They wanted their collar they wanted their collar they wanted their collar they-

They looked up, meeting Civilian’s gaze. A pitied expression danced upon their countenance, yet, in their eyes, there was no such resemblance.

“Well.” The civilian rolled their shoulders back, taking a breath that displayed their insecurity more than anything else. “It’s been two hours, now. Just about. How are you feeling? I’m sure you’d like to rest a bit more, and you can, but... we’ve gotta talk first.”

Certainly, a deep fatigue had buried itself within Villain’s bones. Yet, presently, its profoundness made it irrelevant. Instead, the shock of their surprise awakening had dried their current exhaustion, leaving them with little but shakiness.

So, in a way, they supposed they had slept well.

With considerable effort, a single sound allowed itself to slip from their pursed lips:

“Okay.”

“Great.” Civilian clapped their hands together. “Also, how are you feeling? Having some food should have helped flush that tranq from your system.”

At the very least, that was a true statement. The forced weariness the gas had imposed upon them had been, for the most part, banished, leaving behind only normal exhaustion.

“Better. I’m feeling better.”

“That’s good. Before you, um, woke up, I was just looking at your wounds. Do they hurt at all?”

Villain had almost forgotten about the bruises and cuts that had been adorned upon them during their escape from the Heroes’ HQ. Slamming into a wall as they had certainly hadn’t done them any favors, and neither had crashing through a glass door. They hadn’t observed their own wounds as of yet, but they could only assume the various throbbing patches along their body could be explained by their brief stint as the human equivalent of a piece of driftwood, washing through an angry river.

“A little bit.”

“Well, if you want, I can get you some Tylonel. You want some Tylonel?”

“No. No thank you.” They’d had more than enough drugs.

“Alright. Well... If you’re up for it.” They rubbed their thumb and forefinger together in a nervous gesture. “We need to talk. Me, you, and Spouse. Is that alright?”

The way they spoke, Villain couldn’t help but feel that there was little actual choice involved.

“Okay.”

“Great! Do you think you can walk? Or would you like a little help?”

“I can walk.”

With the effects of the tranquilizer worn off, their legs no longer felt like jelly. Though pins and needles swarmed them as they stood, they held strong. Civilian ghosted a hand over their shoulder, leading them from the living room and into an adjoining kitchen area. There they gestured for them to sit.

Spouse was already seated, rather silently, across from them. Once Villain settled, Civilian joined at their partner’s side.

As soon as they sat, they quickly swiped an item from the table’s surface-- a cellphone that, to Villain, appeared oddly familiar. Yet, they dismissed it, allowing their nerves to occupy their thoughts.

“You want to start, honey?” Civilian diverted to their partner, who nodded.

“Of course. I guess this is all still a little bit- Well, surprising is the least of it. To start from the beginning, I’m not sure how much you remember of meeting me. A pretty strange way to meet someone.” They giggled. “I was out walking Hydro along the riverside when I saw you, on the bank. It’s lucky that the tides threw you out when they did.

You didn’t want me to call emergency services-- I think you remember that part, probably. I understand why, now. I didn’t understand just how much the Heroes are involved in all that stuff. But, I couldn’t just leave you there. So, my partner being a doctor and all...”

“They carried you all the way home. Now, imagine my surprise!”

“We don’t exactly have much in the way of equipment, here, but you didn’t seem terribly hurt. Just out of it. It’s been... Maybe 24 hours since you escaped?”

“Pretty much exactly.”

“And, we know that you escaped.”

Villain couldn’t help but squirm in their seat.

“I’d heard of you before.” Spouse continued. “On the news. But last I heard you’d been captured. If you’d been in that river just a little longer... Or if someone else had found you...”

“They’re looking for you.” Civilian took over in a low pitch. “It’s all over the news, every channel, practically. All the info’s started to get mixed up, but they’re saying you’re dangerous.”

“We know you’re not.”

“Yes. But, that doesn’t mean that everyone else does. As far as they know, a dangerous villain has escaped, and could be anywhere, now. They say they can track you, based on the signature left behind by your powers.”

All the effort, just to bring them back.

To put them back on stage.

“But,” Civilian sighed. “We want to help you, Villain. As much as we can. But, our house isn’t going to be safe forever.”

They glanced to their partner, who returned the look. The two grasped hands.

“We have two options worked out.” Spouse murmured.

“Mhm.”

“The first one... You stay here for a little longer. One or two days, at the most. But any longer, and it won’t be safe. Then, you have to go. We have supplies you can take. Food, water, money. Though the last one...

We’re close enough to the border, and we have a car. We can take you across the line. But then, you can do whatever you want.”

There was a somber tone, to their voice, and an equally sorrowed pit developing in the depths of Villain’s stomach.

Left alone...

They couldn’t do whatever they wanted, because they didn’t want anything. Their aspirations before had been so simple. A bit more slop for dinner. Being left alone for a day. Not being struck.

Now...

They shivered at the thought.

“The other option.” Civilian took over. “Might be a little less daunting, though it’s your choice. This is all up to you.

The second option is... I have a lot of friends, you see. Friends with medical know-how, just like I do. They live all around the city. You could stay with each of them, for a few days. On a rotating cycle. That way, none of us would arouse suspicion. Then, you’ll have more time to think, and maybe... I don’t know. Rebuild.”

“Even if you want that, you can stay with us for another day, too.” Spouse added.

“Mhm.”

Then, all eyes were on Villain.

“So...” Civilian began. “What do you want?”

When was the last time they’d been asked that question?

“I-Um- I- I-”

“They might need some time, honey. Do you want some time to think, Villain?”

“Y-Yes. Please.”

“Okay.” Civilian sighed. “Think on it, okay? But, you need to choose by tomorrow.”

“O-Okay.”

Spouse looked upon them with a gaze that showed no faux pity.

“They’re stressed, honey. We’re stressing them out. Come on, Villain. Let’s go down something to calm down, okay?”

Just like Hero used to.

Though their idea of calming down was usually putting a hood over their head.

“Okay.” They dipped their head.

“You two have fun, then.” Civilian placed a faux smile upon their countenance. “I have some phone calls to make.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“How about board games? Do you like board games?”

“Um... Maybe?” Villain bit their lower lip. “I can’t really move the pieces- If they’re tracking my powers...”

“I could take those mitts off for you?” Spouse suggested, cocking their head to the side.

“No! Um. No. Please don’t.”

“Okay. No worries. So, no board games.”

They closed the cupboard in which they had been riffling, pushing around boxes of weathered games. Stretching their legs, they stood, scanning a tabletop.

“Hm... What about a book? We have Lord of the Rings...”

A book? They hadn’t read in so long... Yet, the other villains had always teased them for being a bookworm. It hadn’t been since their childhood that they had read much in the way of high fantasy, but-

“Yes!”

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” Spouse smiled. “Books it is. Here you go.”

They handed Villain a thick novel, bound in weathered hardcover that had clearly seen many days since its last dusting. The villain gripped it in shaking fingers, glancing at the cover-

And throwing it to the ground.

Dogs don’t fucking read, idiot. Don’t look at that.

Hero’s voice stabbed at them, a strike of lightning in the back of their mind.

Dogs don’t read.

“Villain? You okay?”

“I- I- U- Uh-” They were hyperventilating. Oh, god, they were hyperventilating. “I can’t read?”

“Oh.” Spouse seemed surprised for a moment, before they nodded with understanding. “Well... How about I read to you?”

They’d really take that kind of time?

“You really mean it?”

“Sure! We have to wait for Civilian to get off the phone, anyways.”

Excitement consumed Villain as the two prepared for their storytime. They settled upon the couch, a blanket draped over the villain’s lap.

It was such a grand excitement, that they did not so much as notice the sound, bleeding from Civilian’s phone in the other room.

Had they been paying attention, they would have recognized Hero’s voice anywhere.

#magicians assistant #villain whumpee #whumblr #whump community #hero whumper #civilian caretaker

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Note

Five sentence fic: “Okay- stay still, bandages first then we can have some fun” [for some reason I can see either Jake and Kauri post stabbing or Nate and Danny]

CW: War whump - sort of a prequel - period-common alcohol use, some vaguely implied period-common homophobia

Just writing this to get a feel for Johann Albach, who will shortly be meeting our intrepid vampire...

Johann groans. His curly dark hair sticks to his forehead, smashed down by the rounded helmet he's finally taken off. The air moves over it, slowly drying, but dry isn't the same as clean.

Still, it's better than dirty and damp, like the rest of his days are lately.

"I don't see why we have to fight at all."

"Oh, don't you?" Hans laughs, a bright flush in his cheeks from the purloined wine they'd brought up from some unlucky Frenchman's cellar. Where Johann is dark-haired, dark-eyed, slight of frame, Hans is big and blond. They look ridiculous next to one another.

Hans holds out the bottle, and Johann takes it. The wine runs red and slightly sweet down his throat, washing the last crumbs of the stale bread they'd found, probably bound for use to thicken soup, but they'd warmed it, called it toast, and it was better than rations, anyway.

The wine is good. Better than it ought to be. He intends to drink himself stupid tonight.

The shells have gone silent. They're promised days of quiet, a rest from the worst of it. No ringing in his ears, no shuddering jolts of terror on a nonstop rotation with a bone-deep exhaustion.

The town is theirs, for three days at least, and with the town... the wine.

It beats the harsh Schnapps they've been drinking, and there wasn't nearly enough of that.

Better than the wine, though, is the fire crackling away in the fireplace. Johann's feet feel fully dry for the first time in what must be weeks, and he has his socks and boots as close to the flames as they can get without lighting themselves aflame, too.

His heavy wool tunic is hung over the back of a chair, buttons glinting in the flickers, and with the house half-blown apart he might've been chilly if it weren't for the fire.

And, of course, the wine.

"I don't, truly. Let our grand kaiser have a duel with the Russians and the English and leave all of us out of it. Let him fight the Americans and their damned monsters. What've we got to show for war? Hm?" Johann squints towards a broken window. He's drunk enough to loosen his tongue, and that's dangerous if anyone is listening.

He can hear the sounds of the rest of the unit, making the same use of stolen supplies that he and Hans were. They seem safe enough to speak their minds, for the moment.

"We've lost a third of our starting group, my mother's left home alone with my sisters... why should I fight a war while they eat better than we ever will and don't do any real fighting at all? Why don't those great and powerful leaders lead the charge themselves? Hm?"

"Because they would fall off their expensive horses and have no fun at all," Hans replies, with an impish smile. It shows off the way he's got a gap between his front teeth that Johann loves far more than is sensible or rational. "More fun instead to fashion us as toy soldiers and set us to war on their behalf. Still. We have our good times, too, I think." Hans sets the bottle down on a table nearby - unscathed, God only knows how after such a bombardment - and tilts his head. "You're bleeding again. That cut you got on your back is deeper than we thought. I'm going to wrap it. Bandages first, and then we can have our fun."

"Don't bother." Johann sits back. Somewhere nearby, he can hear some men singing, the sort of odes to home and pretty women that he's always thought should move him... and they never do. "Maybe the scent will bring one of the American abominations on me and I can be done with this whole mess for good."

"I promised your mother I'd bring you home alive, Johann," Hans says, a hand resting on his shoulder. He's missing his pinky and ring fingers now, but he can still fire a gun, and so they sent him back to the front. "It's a promise I would like to keep."

Johann reaches up and lays his palm over the back of his friend's hand. "I promised yours the same. Perhaps we'll both disappoint in the end. Nothing new for me, of course."

"Don't be so melancholy. You'll go home, find a girl, start a family, and your mother will thrill at it all." Hans pats him on the back and pulls away.

"If only family, home, or girl had anything to do with what I wanted."

"You'll be happy enough. Besides, we'll hunt together still, there'll be time for us, too. Now, stop moping and start drinking instead. We'll make it home, Johann. We will." Hans sighs, sitting down and leaning over until his forehead rests against Johann's bare shoulder. "We must. This can't be it for us."

"If it is, I'd rather die with you than marry any girl my mother approves of," Johann says dryly, and that gets Hans to laughing.

The night seems a bit brighter, then.

Johann takes a drink.

@finder-of-rings @astrobly @burtlederp who have asked to be tagged in everything ever

#whump #war whump #johann albach #injured whumpee #prequel to whump #vampire chris au #references vampirism #ww1 #war fiction #original fiction #writing #original writing

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Nine

Summary: Javier struggles in the hospital, but some of the symptoms are more somatic than physiological. He’s released, and the two of you have your first official date.

W/C: 4.2k (it just keeps getting longer... chapter 10 is 6k+)

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries, Javier used to be an asshole but he’s baby now, some innuendo/sexual flirting, brief mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: This chapter was actually hard to write! I had clear visions for 8 and 10 but didn’t have one for nine. Nevertheless, I really liked the way this turned out! I’ll post some sappy shit with chapter 10 but please know I love u all for reading and sticking around- it makes my little heart so happy that u guys love these two like I do <3

previous chapter | next chapter

Sleep is not easy when you have a massive stab wound in your abdomen. Javier hardly slept to begin with, but this makes it even harder. You tried offering sedatives but he harshly refused. You ordered dark and quiet for his room, but his sleep schedule was so helter-skelter before the accident that it was of no use to even try to fix it now. He can’t adapt when he’s not even in his own bed, he argues with you. Too damn bad, you tell him in return.

The only time Javier could sleep, it seems, is with you in the room. Specifically, in his arms.

It’s not that he thinks he’s unsafe. Hell, a hospital is the safest place he can be. It’s not that he fears passing in his sleep; he knows he won’t bleed out at this point. No, he just can’t sleep unless he has the comfort of a warm body wrapped up next to him. Specifically, the woman he loves.

You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips. “Javier. I’m working.”

“This is specialized therapy for a patient,” he offers, persuasive as ever.

“I can and will get the opiates,” you threaten. “You can’t stay awake forever, and we both know that.”

“Ángel. I just… need the security.” He looks desperate. His eyes are tired. He’s slept very little in the past few days, leaving him agitated and restless. “The only time I’ve slept well in here was when you were with me.”

You pout a little. It’s adorable, you must admit, and most of all, it’s true. You and other nurses have been catering to him around the clock, since he only sleeps an hour here or there.

Sighing, you look at him. Your eyes are tired too. You’ve slept only when he sleeps, which is barely anything. You’re working on the floor or in his room with him. “Let me go talk with Connie, cariño. I’ll see what I can do.”

You walk into the break room with tired eyes. “Listen, ladies.” Both Connie and Lorena are sitting at a table, eating something. “Javier isn’t sleeping. He asked for me to stay in there with him to get some rest. It’s the only way it’s helped so far. Would you two cover my rotation? Just for tonight?”

Lorena’s large eyes sadden, and she nods. “Por supuesto. Anything you need, love.”

Connie’s not as enthused, but she nods. “You’re lucky this floor is dead empty.” It’s all too easy to imagine this was happening to Steve instead of Javi. That’s what makes her cave.

You sigh in relief. You take a quick shower then return to Javier’s room in a pair of clean scrubs. He smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Hi. You hungry?” You ask, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He shakes his head. “Just tired.”

You smile softly. “Well, you’re in luck. Connie and Lorena are angels.”

“No, you’re my angel,” he says with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well they’re mine. You’re the devil on my shoulder,” you laugh quietly and sit on the edge of his bed. He chuckles and pulls you into him, and you snuggle in against him, your eyes slipping shut. He murmurs affirmations of his love for you into your hair as he falls asleep.

And that’s how Javier sleeps for the next few nights. Bits and pieces during the day, but only restfully when you’re in his arms.

The rest of Javier’s stay in the hospital is uneventful. He’s a model patient for you and the other women. He apologizes to Lorena for his outburst under the influence too.

“Ángel,” Javier calls as you try to leave the bed and takes your hand.

“Yeah, cariño?” You ask and sit on the edge of his bed, pushing his dark hair from his forehead. The name makes him feel warm and tingly inside. Pet names from women who mean it are all too rare to him.

“I… should tell you about Lorraine.”

“You don’t have to, Javi,” you shake your head and cup his face softly.

“No, I really should,” he protests, and you nod.

“She was my high school sweetheart. We both went to college and came back and fell in love again.” You nod along to the story, watching his facial expressions. He looks far away, like his mind is back in Laredo. “We were engaged. I proposed and everything, did the whole damn thing.”

“What happened?” You ask softly.

His eyes don’t meet yours. “I got cold feet. I… left her at the altar,” he admits. He’s terrified you’ll run out the door now. It’s not an easy decision, to run away from a life you’re about to lead. It’s even worse when you know what that whole church, full of people, will think. But he did it anyway, and he’s scared you’ll never look at him the same way.

You swallow hard. It’s not what you’re expecting him to say, but you have to admit that it does sound in-character for the man. “And how long ago was that, Javi?”

He looks back up at you. “Jesus. 15 years now maybe.”

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Time changes people. You know that. I know that. Your past is the past, love.” You press a brief and sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Javier. Don’t you ever forget it.”

You stand and leave his room.

Goddamn, Javier thinks. You really are an angel. You must be, to have that response to what he just told you.

Several days after the injury, Javier is discharged from the hospital.

Despite his rage and arguing, the embassy refused to clear Javier for work. He was to be placed on a brief leave to heal and return when he was up to walking on his own again, without some kind of balance or assistance. Steve agreed to bring Javier some things to work on every night after returning from the office. Javier is already a restless man, and neither you nor the Murphys want to find out what happens when he’s bored all day, his best friend and his girlfriend both too busy to be around. Besides, a deep dive into some cases couldn’t hurt, he argues, and Steve relents. You and Connie take on the responsibility of checking up on him at least once a day- usually her more so than you, due to the fact that she lived directly above him- and of running any errands he may need, for things like food or medication.

As you wheel Javier from his hospital room out to the Murphys’ car, you realize you don’t have his phone number, nor does he have yours. You stop the wheelchair in the hallway and grab a pen from a nearby table. “I know it’s kind of unprofessional to give a patient my phone number,” you chuckle and squat to his seated height, “but I really think you’re cute,” you flirt as you write your phone number on his hand with a permanent marker.

You hand him the pen and Javier grins, his neatly-trimmed mustache (courtesy of Steve’s steady hands) moving with his cheeks. “You’re lucky that I think you’re cute too or I’d be telling your supervisors,” he laughs and steals a kiss before writing his phone number down on the back of your skin.

“It’s kind of weird,” you admit as the thick felt tip brushes against your skin, “that I’ve told you I love you and I don’t even know your phone number.”

Javier chuckles and caps the pen. He holds up your hand and raises an eyebrow. “Now you do.”

Three days pass, and Connie gives you updates on his condition whenever she sees you. He’s still in a lot of pain, but he’s lucky he was strong beforehand. You know that for a fact, and it hurts your heart to picture those beautiful abs you caught a glimpse of not too long ago marred by a scar he’ll surely have.

As you get home from a shift, you sigh and plop down on the couch. It’s late, you notice, but you miss Javier. Knowing him, he’s probably awake; you’re sure his sleep schedule is still as terrible as it was before the hospital. You grab the phone from the end table next to your spot, dialing his number and waiting.

Javier picks up on the second ring. Of course he’s awake. “Peña,” a gruff voice answers. It makes you smile. For a second, you want to just continue on without him knowing it’s you, want to observe how he acts when he’s with others. He’s different around you, you know that, and it’s adorable, you have to admit. “Hello?” he asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” you laugh softly through the phone. “It’s me. Sorry, I just got distracted. You sound sexy when your voice is like that,” you tease him.

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Not a problem. How are you, hermosa?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that, Superman,” you laugh softly, leaning back against the couch. His voice instantly puts you at ease.

Javier laughs too. “Superman?”

“Big, strong. My protector.”

“Says the one who literally saved my life.”

“Who’s to say that cold wouldn’t have killed me if you didn’t take me to that diner?”

“Me.”

“I’m the nurse here.”

“And I’m Superman, apparently.” You laugh at that, wanting to reach through the phone line and kiss him then and there. “I’m no Superman, hermosa. I do bad things.”

“We all do, Javi.”

“Not as bad as me.”

“Gotta do bad things to catch bad people. You told me that. Are you trying to be this difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?” You ask sarcastically, smiling into the phone.

“I’m just telling you I’m not actually a good guy,” Javier says, his slight frustration evident.

“I was never under the impression you were. Is this you trying to push me away?” You ask, knowing that’s not the answer but hoping it’ll put some sense into him.

“No, no, cariño, I just-”

“Good, because we’re having our first official date tomorrow night. Okay?”

Javier chuckles a little at that. “I’m homebound. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Oh no, Superman. I’m coming to you,” you tell him, curling up into a ball and grinning. “I’m getting takeout and wine- or whiskey, if you’d prefer- and we’re having a date night at your place. What do you want for dinner? You’ve got to be craving something.”

This takes Javier aback. This certainly wasn’t something he expected you to say when you picked up. “Uh… no. Nothing comes to mind. And I’m more of a whiskey guy, but wine sounds more romantic, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll pick up something that goes well with wine,” you say with a nod, beaming. “And I’m going to be tired after my shift, so you better be in the mood to cuddle.”

A laugh rings through the phone. “Of course you want to cuddle.”

“Says the one who asked me to snuggle him to sleep.”

“Hey, I almost bled out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who asked.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Javi?”

“Yes, hermosa?”

Your voice is quiet and shy when you finally speak again. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

He grins, even though you can’t see it. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I like that, but we haven’t even had our first date.”

You can feel Javier rolls his eyes through the phone, but he’s clearly smiling when he speaks again. “Wouldn’t you consider that morning at the diner our first date?” He asks you, his face lighting up at the memory of it.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think we need to say it’s officially a date before it happens, then it can be a date.”

“I’m not going to be a very interesting date. I do have a large stab wound in my abs right now.”

“Don’t question my taste in men, Peña.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Do you want to dress up nice?” he asks. “A pretend night out?”

You grin at that. “That sounds wonderful,” you nod and rest your head on the pillows behind you, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

“Better yet, I’ll cook for you.”

“Why do I have a feeling your cooking features microwave cuisine?”

“First of all, that’s not fully true,” he laughs. “And second of all, at least let me pay for dinner.”

“Giving up that easily? Superman may have to have his title revoked.”

“No, you were just right. I’m not a great cook; takeout would be the best bet.”

“I’ll pay and you can pay me back by looking cute for me.”

“Is this how women feel when men are demeaning?” He teases.

“You got it,” you groan.

Javier sighs. “Don’t know how you do it. How was your day?” he asks, leaning back on his own couch, slipping a hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Long. My back hurts,” you admit, hugging the pillow to your chest. “The hospital is much more boring when I don’t get to sneak kisses from a hot patient.”

“I would assume so.”

“Got anything interesting in those case files?”

“I think Steve pulled out a box from ‘79 and handed it over just to appease me. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re supposed to be on leave. Do leave things.”

“Like what? You’re gone all day, so is Steve. There are my two options.”

“Javi,” you coo softly. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you are! You don’t even know what to do with your life. When was your last day off that you didn’t spend nursing a hangover?” There’s a beat of silence. “Exactly. Watch some telenovelas, read a book, pick up a hobby.”

“I have hobbies,” he pouts.

“Besides drinking, smoking, and fucking. I know your reputation,” you tease.

He’s silent and shy when his voice returns. “Did you-“

“I’ve known that the whole time, Superman. You think Connie didn’t spill everything the first time I asked her about you?” You chuckle softly. “No, I know about you. I don’t mind at all. It’s kinda hot,” you tease.

“Hey now, don’t start what you can’t finish. I’m not gonna be in shape for anything for a while.”

You bite your lip, deciding between flirting back harder or leaving it alone. You decide to leave it. “I’m not,” you chuckle. “I just think everything about you is attractive.”

“Even my giant stab wound?”

“Especially. If that’s what it took for you to admit you love me,” you laugh softly, and you hear him laughing on the other end.

“You should get some sleep, cariño,” Javi says in a softening voice. “It’s late, and you said your back hurts.”

“I will. I just… couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re doing. I’m glad it’s good.” You smile softly at the way his voice sounds through the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow night all day at work.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it here.”

“Goodnight Javi,” you tell him. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he tells you in return. “I love you too.” He hangs up quickly after saying that, before he can change his mind and stay on the phone with you for hours more.

As you leave the hospital the next day, your best friend’s voice rings out after you. “Use a condom!” Lorena shouts before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, an unplanned pregnancy would be the worst,” she teases and nudges your side. “Be safe!”

“Fuck you,” you mutter to her in English, but there’s a smile on your face as you leave the hospital.

“No, fuck Javi instead!”

“Goddamnit, Lori!”

The walk home is uneventful, as normal, but the sun is just about to start setting over Bogotá. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself, and you admire the skyline as you walk back to your apartment.

Once you get inside, you head to your bathroom and sigh as you look in the mirror. You’re tired, it’s evident, but your eyes hold your excitement. Turning on a cassette player in your living room, you dance and sing along to it in the bathroom as you do your makeup and style your hair. Both are simply done, but make you feel a little more confident, a little more elegant for your night in with Javier.

You dance along to the music and make your way into your bedroom. You change out of your scrubs and into the outfit you chose last night, in a rush of excitement after talking with Javier on the phone. It’s your favorite dress you wear when you’re going out, not that it’s often, one that makes you feel fantastic about yourself. You look in the mirror and have to admit, you look damn good.

After you twirl in the mirror a little, you pick up the phone and dial Javier.

The familiar greeting fills your ears. “Peña.”

“Hey, Javi,” you practically sing. “I’m leaving my place now, I’ll pick up the food and be over. Leave the door unlocked, that way you don’t have to get up and let me in, okay?”

Javier chuckles. “Yes ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and you grab your purse and a jacket, wrapping it tight around yourself as you leave your apartment building and head out to a nearby restaurant.

After the food is ready, you carry it in one hand, smiling to yourself as you walk the rest of the way to Javier’s. It’s closer than you ever knew, and it makes you smile even wider knowing that there’s only ever a short distance between you and him. The sun is now setting, casting everything in a warm glow.

Once you reach his apartment, you get hit by a wave of nerves. Impulsively, you climb the extra stairs and knock on the Murphys’ front door.

No response comes, surprisingly. Rather than continuing to knock, you get your courage up and go back downstairs, knocking on Javier’s door and letting yourself in.

Javier is at his kitchen table already, which is nicely set and even has a candle burning on top of it. He looks up when he hears you and smiles, and you immediately smile back. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, nice shirt and a tie, the shirt cuffed to his elbows. His hair, which has been messy nearly every time you’ve seen him, is neatly styled too. He looks professional, and it makes you giggle a little.

He takes a second to take in the sight of you too, his eyes raking all the way up your body until his eyes meet yours. “You look great, cariño,” he tells you with a little smirk, and you walk closer and set the food down on the table.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You look very formal.”

“This is what I wear to work,” he admits and tilts his head to the side.

“Then I’m going to have to come visit you at the embassy some time,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, for the first real time since the hospital. There’s silence between the two of you and you can hear a rhythmic knocking noise coming from somewhere-

You break away and your eyes widen, giggling. There’s a loud creaking sound that accompanied the pounding. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Javi asks, but then the noise reaches his ears.

You have to cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I have to admit, I went upstairs to ask Connie for advice before I came down here… I guess I know why no one answered,” you snort before you hear a uniquely feminine groan, and both you and Javier start laughing uncontrollably, falling into each other.

You bury your face in his shoulder laughing, then quickly remove it, forgetting you were wearing makeup. “Oh god, do you have a radio or something we can turn on to cover that up?” You as him, still giggling.

“Yeah, come on,” he says and leans on you for balance as the two of you walk to his kitchen. There’s a radio on top of his fridge, and he turns it onto the American station in town. You smile at the memory of first meeting him while this was playing. Some slow jam from a few years ago is on, and Javier cranks the dial to adjust the volume until you can no longer hear the Murphys and their activity upstairs.

The sun shines its last rays into the kitchen, casting an orange glow over both you and Javi. He looks down at you and swears he can see exactly what he’s feeling reflected in your eyes. Your eyes hold such kindness and depth and unconditional regard for him, and it makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let you go again, never let either of you ever leave this apartment and this moment. Javier has never been one for words, choosing mainly to express his feelings through the patterns of his hips against a woman’s, but he tries in this moment, just for you. “You… have gorgeous eyes,” he tells you softly, and you giggle and shyly look away. “Really,” he says, catching your chin in his hand and bringing your face back to look at him. “So beautiful. All of you, especially tonight.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing up into those big brown eyes and kissing him quickly. “Care to dance?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Javi chuckles a little and puts his arms around your waist in return. “Why not?” He asks, sneaking another gentle kiss before swaying the two of you around his kitchen. You rest your head in the curve of his neck and he smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to your head. He’s not a great singer, he knows that, but he mumble-sings the lyrics to you. You can feel his chest vibrate from his voice, and you sigh, pressing a kiss into his skin before resting your head on his shoulder again.

The song ends a few moments later and there’s a bit of dead air on the radio. No sound comes from upstairs and you lift your head, laughing a little. “Well, now that that’s all done… shall we eat?” You ask, and Javier nods, sneaking one last kiss from your lips.

The night ends with you and Javier cuddled on the couch. It’s late, and you’re watching his VHS tapes of old American movies. You’re snuggled into his side when he nudges your face with his neck. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in your dress?” He asks.

“What, are you trying to get me naked?” You tease quietly.

“No. Just want you comfy,” he murmurs, half asleep. You have to admit you’re tired too. “I have a proposal.”

“Yes I’ll marry you,” you laugh jokingly.

“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes. “Help me to my bed. You can wear some of my clothes. Sleep here tonight.”

You smile a little. “Is this your way of saying you can’t sleep without me anymore?”

“Sleeping alone is shitty once I got a taste of you,” he says with a charming smile.

“Alright Romeo,” you tease and kiss his lips gently. “I like that idea though. Let’s do it.” You stand from his arms, offering him a hand. He takes it and stands with a groan.

You help Javier to his bedroom, holding him up as a crutch and a balance. Javier’s tie was long discarded, after the two of you ate dinner. He strips the dress shirt and pants from his body, leaving him in just his boxers and a plain white shirt. He heads to his dresser and pulls out a large t-shirt for you.

You take it from him and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes as you unzip your dress. “You’re allowed to look,” you murmur teasingly next to his ear. His eyes fly open and watch you hungrily, the way you’re exposed in just a bra and panties.

“Mi ángel,” he mumbles, his hands on your sides. He looks down at your body before finding your eyes again and smiling softly. He kisses you gently. “I know I have a bad reputation. You know I love you for more than your body, right?”

You nod, your arms around his neck. “Of course I do, Javi. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

He nods. “Just… checking.” This is all so new for him, and you can tell. You kiss him tenderly for a moment before pulling on the big t-shirt and flopping on his bed.

“Now get in here and cuddle me, Superman.”

“Of course, cariño,” he laughs, sliding under the covers and kissing the side of your face.

translations:

por supuesto- of course

hey taglist, come get y’all juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago

Text

You are my sunshine (Finn x GN reader)

What is this? This is 7/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. (More deets in pinned post). The prompt is from @phoenixhalliwell and is Finn with “You think something is wrong but I simply have a huge crush on you and turn to jelly whenever you’re around.” Emma, thanks so much, and I hope that you like this! <3 I don’t write Finn often so I dearly hope I did him justice!

Author’s note: Finn! He’s precious. He deserves everything! Hope you enjoy this- there’s a little bit of angst but it’s followed by fluff. Everything ends well <3

Word count: 3k. You had all better be proud of me for writing something less than 5k :P

Warnings: lil bit of angst (reader thinks Finn is mad at them). Trapped in a cockpit but no danger / not claustrophobic or anything. Slight reader insecurity. It’s pretty light tbh :o)

You watch Finn leave with a sharp pang of pain. His excuses are becoming more and more elaborate, and it’s wearing thin.

“Sorry, I have to go and deal with a porg infestation on the Falcon.”

“I can’t hang around, Leia’s fuming mad at Poe - he made some crude Outer Rim innuendo during the briefing and she is pissed.”

“I can’t play sabacc anyway because... because I got dust in my eyes on the mission and everything is blurry.”

“I have to run and...” and then he, in fact, ran away from you.

Alright, the first two were feasible, but that last one, especially? Pretty kriffing flimsy.

It was beginning to sting a little. Alright, a lot. You and Finn usually hung out, whenever he was around on base. You always had, ever since Finn had taken control of his fate and been welcomed by the Resistance.

Since then, you had become his first real friend, and when everything was scary and new to him, you had held his hand. Literally- Finn was always reaching for you. For comfort. For reassurance. To demonstrate his fondness of you. Just because.

Of course, he’d settled into the Resistance like he’d always been a part of it, and had quickly formed a range of new friendships, including with Poe and Rey - all the cool kids on base. Of course he had. The man is likeable, courageous, and he has sunshine in his heart - despite being raised in the shadows. The strength of his light is so powerful that it blinds you sometimes. So, he’d made other friends, but you had always been his first, and his best.

At least, until now.

Recently, Finn’s touches and warm hugs and light had begun to retreat from your sky. You miss his bright brown eyes and his beaming smile desperately. You miss your movie nights and long chats. You miss laughing until your sides hurt. You miss the way he can turn anything into an adventure. The way he really listens when you talk, and his good, brave, generous heart.

This distance? It is more than a natural drift - it is more an intentional break. Intentional on his side, at least. Most definitely not on yours.

You don’t know why. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong…

…But you are determined to find out.

And, if Finn won’t talk to you off his own back, you’ll simply have to concoct some flimsy excuse of your own.

***

That’s exactly what you do, yourself and Finn now sealed together, alone, in the cockpit of some old cargo ship.

“You’ve trapped us in here?!” the man exclaims, voice loud and ringing with a rising panic.

“No,” you sigh, defeatedly. You don’t want to panic him - you just want to talk to him; without him running away. “You’re not trapped. Obviously, I’d never actually...” you trail off as you watch Finn urgently button-bashing on the control panel by the door, clearly pretty desperate to leave. “I just thought…” you explain, raising your voice a little to be heard over his rising and increasingly vocal frustration. “It was supposed to be a chance for us to talk.”

Finn turns towards you, all this energy coiling in his body, practically bouncing on his toes in his rush to get out of there. He looks as though the prospect of talking to you fills him with dread.

Your face drops. You should have realised this was a bad idea.

“We talked this morning,” Finn defends, weakly. Yeah, for all of two seconds. “Can’t you open this thing?” he pleads, throwing his thumb towards the door.

Fine. Whatever. If he’s that desperate to flee from you, so be it. Maybe you need to accept the fact that things aren’t the same between you anymore. Maybe never will be. Your heart aches in your chest.

Your shoulders slumping, you push the Jedi-in-training and all-round Resistance hero aside, punching the unlock code into the panel.

It beeps angrily in response.

A furrow in your brow, you try again.

“Oh, kriff.”

“What is it?” Finn asks from over your shoulder.

This is fine, actually. You have a back-up. Except, you pat your belt for your communicator, remembering at the same time exactly where you left it in the hangar.

“Okay,” you turn around to face him, your face locked in an apologetic grimace, hands raised in surrender. “So, we may actually be trapped now, but I would like to emphasise this was very much not The Plan.”

Finn purses his full, brown lips together, in entirely transparent irritation, an ire brewing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” you say defensively, though you note that your friend, Finn, would have found this funny -made the best of it- and the Finn is front of you now is someone else entirely.

“Being stuck here with you is the last thing I need right now,” Finn says into his hands, the words muffled, and yet their meaning perfectly -and painfully- clear.

Oh. Okay. That’s how it is?

You take a step back from him, wrapping your arms around yourself and rotating quickly away to face the transparisteel window. His harshness feels so alien to you, and bitter tears sting in your eyes, which you don’t want him to see.

“Kriff. That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong,” Finn says softly from behind you, and you finally hear the familiar kindness infusing his voice. The kindness you’ve been so desperate to enjoy again these past weeks. “What I meant was... was...”

Your back to him still, you raise your arm in the air. “Save it, Big Deal. You don’t want to talk to me? Let’s not talk,” you bite, your voice low and taut.

You’ve given Finn the benefit of the doubt for long enough now. Maybe this was a problem you shouldn’t try to fix. He obviously likes things precisely as they are.

Finn, for his part, hovers beside you, clearly apologetic, but you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you focus all of your energies on popping open the console, pulling out the wire guts, and looking for a way to open this damn door.

He may have been running away from you, but now you’re the one who wants nothing more than to get out of there.

You had wanted to talk, but all of a sudden you don’t want to hear it. You can’t take one more flimsy excuse without breaking.

***

You’d tried everything. Banging on the door, waving out of the viewports. Trying to find a hatch to escape out of. There was nothing left to do but wait for your data patch to run. You’d linked-up some wires and an old data-pad to the controls, and it was simply a matter of time before your program loaded, overriding the door panel and thus letting you out of there.

Unfortunately, the small matter of time is proving problematic. It has already been about an hour, and the screen indicates your program is only about 75 per cent through -blasted old tech- and you’re not sure how much longer you can endure this fraught, awkward silence.

Save for your escape attempts, you and Finn still haven’t spoken, and, eventually admitting defeat, you have each sunk to the floor on opposite sides of the cockpit, your knees drawn-up to your chest and backs pressed against the walls of the cool metal chamber. Now, the increasingly cool metal chamber, as the afternoon draws on and the suns begin to sink below the horizon.

You sigh.

“Why are you avoiding me, Finn?” you finally ask, firmly, bringing your eyes to meet his. “And, I beg you. No more kriffing excuses.”

Finn’s knees are drawn-up too, and his elbows resting on top of them, fingers weaving and fiddling together somewhere in the middle as your question finds him.

He purses his lips together once more, his bright, expressive eyes brimming with trepidation, his hand coming up to self-consciously brush against the tip of his rounded nose.

Eventually, his head drops down, until you’re only looking at the top of it. He’s growing out his tightly-coiled, black hair on the top, sides closely cropped, and you idly note that the length suits him. There’s nothing else to note, as he still isn’t saying anything.

Still, when you take a step back from your anger and your boredom, you recognise all the signs of him being anxious, now that he can no longer run away from your questions.

“It’s not what you think,” he sighs, and you shake your head in continued frustration and look sharply away, up and out of the viewport.

And, in the continued absence of an answer from him, your insecurities begin to fill in the blanks. “You know, Big Deal, you don’t have to hang around me just because I’m the first person you met.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Finn’s head snap up to look at you, distress shining in his eyes. You ignore it. “If you’ve decided this friendship isn’t what you need anymore, I can take it. I just wish you’d stop bullshitting me. I deserve better than that.”

Then, you try to suppress it, but you shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm. You’ve felt chilly for a while now, but you have desperately been trying to conceal the fact.

Without missing a beat, Finn slips his -Poe’s- jacket off from his shoulders, shuffling closer to you, without rising from the floor. As he shrugs it off, he reveals nothing but a white, ribbed vest underneath, tight over his toned figure, and tucked into his belt at his waist. The vest sits in contrast with the deep brown of his skin, the bulge of his cultivated muscles evident in his strong, densely-packed shoulders and arms.

This? This is precisely what you’ve been trying to avoid. You feel warmer already.

Regardless, he moves to your side, kneeling next to you, and he pauses when he gets there. Hesitates. He lifts his finger, running it ever so slowly over the textured goosepimples on your forearm. “You’re cold,” he states, his voice so deep and rich, and his touch and his proximity sending a shiver through you in an entirely different way. You’d like to argue, you really would, but he weakens you, his sudden warmth melting you quickly after his long absence, and you let him guide you forward enough that he can drape his jacket around your shoulders. It is still warm from his body heat. It smells like him.

You wanted silence, but this is the kind that you don’t like; tense, albeit in a different way.

“Thank you,” you say thinly, expecting Finn to pull immediately away again. But he doesn’t.

Instead, his eyes go a little wide and afraid, even as he sets his jaw determinedly. He reaches his hand out, ghosting it slowly down the length of your arm, until he has scooped one of your hands up and flattened it in-between his own broad, warm palms.

Holding your hand.

You’ve missed that so much.

You watch Finn in gentle puzzlement, as his pink tongue nervously swipes out over his bottom-lip. And, with your eyes gently encouraging him to go on, he finally blurts it out. He finally says what he’s been keeping from you.

“I have a huge crush on you. I turn to kriffing jelly whenever you’re around me.”

Your hand suddenly becomes clammy, held in-between his. Your heart quickens.

Wait, what?

“I’m so sorry if I hurt you,” he says, his eyes soft like distant starlight. “It’s just, I panic. I know I like to pretend I’m all smooth...” he chuckles self-consciously, that laugh sounding from deep in his chest, and oh boy, you’ve missed that sound too. You’ve missed that gorgeous pearly smile, which blooms tentatively on his face.

“Smooth?! You do a terrible job of that, Finn, no-one’s buying it,” you tease, but it’s fond, your free hand settling on top of his, and your eyes crinkling with reciprocal joy as his beautiful broad smile widens, his face full of sparkle and light.

“Oh? Okay. That’s how it is?” he laughs.

You’ve missed this. Have missed him.

That’s it? That’s all it is? He has a crush?

After a few moments, the two of you apparently basking in relief -on your part that you haven’t done anything wrong, and on his, that his confession is finally through- his smile naturally falls from his lips; however, it lingers in his eyes, that gentle starlight back again.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… kept messing everything up around you. I didn’t want you to think I was the biggest dumbass on base.”

“Oh, Finn, honey-” you grin, and he completes the sentence with you, nodding, and a big chuckle falling out of him. “Poe is the biggest dumbass on base.”

Isn’t that the truth?

You simply look at each other for a moment, all this starlight swirling in the space between you.

“Come here,” you say softly, finally, unable to resist, and you shuffle on to your knees so you can lean forward and give him the biggest hug, your arms folding around his sturdy, muscled form. It feels so good to close this distance, especially after so long. Especially as no-one on base gives better hugs than Finn, you are reminded, as he holds you.

“Are we... cool?” he asks apprehensively, into your shoulder as he squeezes you tightly, and you pull back from him, your hands still resting on his shoulders and his weaving under, settled around your waist.

“We’ll always be cool, Finn. It’s going to take more than that.”

“Yeah?” he smiles happily. “Good, because I missed you so kriffing much. I have so much to tell you.”

“And I want to hear it, but first,” your mouth tips up into a smirk. “Can I kiss you now?”

Finn’s eyes widen in shock and he makes a bunch of noises – broken, flustered syllables and consonants, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. He’s sunk into his relief so readily, that he must have forgotten entirely to entertain the idea you might like him back.

Your hands trail all the way down his toned arms, until you slowly fold his hands into yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “Play it cool, Finn,” you tease, giving him a quick wink.

He schools himself, and even as you notice a hard swallow bob down his throat, and he lets out a long, slow exhale of breath through the circle of his lips, he makes use of his classic bravado. At least, for long enough to get some coherent strings of words out.

“Yes please. Y-yeah. Kiss me. You... should do that.”

Too many words.

So, you inch forward, and you press a fleeting, light, chaste kiss to his impossibly soft lips. Just enough to shut him up, before dipping your head back, giving him time to respond.

He looks at you sweetly, in shock for a moment, but, before you know it, his lips are chasing yours with a whole new confidence, and his mouth twitches-up in a smile as he meets you again. This time, the kiss is not fleeting. This time, it is drawn-out; a slow, sensual, gradually deepening thing. He hums against your mouth, the sound low and reverberating through you, and, as the kiss grows, his broad hands slowly and safely lower you down against the cockpit floor, arranging his jacket under you so that your skin needn’t touch the cold metal - only his warmth.

When you break for air, he settles himself over you, strong arms holding him up, his eyes shining with disbelief and adoration. He looks at you in a way that says – yes, you may have been his first friend, but that, maybe, you could be his first love as well.

As he gazes down at you, your hands wind up around the back of his head, skimming lovingly over his textured, raven hair, and readying to pull him back down to you, eager to drink more of him in. To feel more of his skin against yours. However; you are cruelly interrupted by a harsh sequence of beeps, indicating that the door is finally unlocked. Finn briefly twists his head over his shoulder, confirming with a look.

“Power’s back on- we can get out of here now,” you say breathily from under him.

“Nah,” he says, with a subtle smirk and a shake of his head, apparently not wanting to move anywhere that would shift his warm body from on top of yours. “I think we should stay here a little longer, how about you?”

“Fine by me, Finn,” you agree quickly, beaming back at him, like the moon reflecting sunlight, basking in his warm glow.

His eyes narrow for a moment, searching yours, and he rolls you both on to your sides, your thigh coming to land over him, and his warm hand begins to stroke you there, as his sweet, languid kisses continue to find you in succession, his breaths coming more quickly, his need unravelling. “Is this okay?” he asks, pausing momentarily to skim his thumb over your cheek and down under your chin. “How are you feeling?”

While Finn seems relatively calm and sure right now, you are suddenly feeling like jelly. “Shaking. Nervous,” you admit, your words trembling out of you.

He nods a little, like he could tell. Maybe he could feel you tremble against him, or maybe it’s deeper than that. Maybe it’s the Force. You certainly feel like something deep and powerful is eddying between you.

“It’s okay,” Finn promises softly, his voice breath, and planting a small kiss to the tip of your nose. “If you want to keep going, I’ll be here to hold you.”

Your eyes shine with happy tears, and this time, when you drag him enthusiastically to your lips, your legs wrapping more tightly around him, you know that you need not be nervous at all. It has always felt right whenever he reached for you, ever since the beginning; and now is no exception. It is so much more than him holding you physically – you feel safe in his arms in every way you could.

You had missed him so deeply, not only because you have a huge crush on him right back, but also because he is your friend. And while he may not have been your first? He is certainly your best.

Finn is your sunshine, and you are endlessly pleased to have him back; to see him shining.

#finn star wars #finn x reader #john boyega #finn (star wars) x reader #star wars imagine

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