#oh god that's gonna be scary!!! i will need to drive carefully <- i already do. but like. alone. EEK

[dormiloncito]

teeheee i did tell my classmate that i'll pick her up next time on our way to class yaaaay

[90sbee]

god i don't usually enjoy this trope but jdkfjsdf OH GOD !!!

You almost ask him to keep driving when your apartment building comes into view. There’s an air of understanding and comfort in the car, and you’re worried you’ll never see it again once you leave. You hope he doesn’t notice your disappointment when he pulls over.

ngl crazy abt this part like just. i can see it so clearly.

“I’ve never seen you smile before,” you say. “You should do it more, it’s nice,” Leon looks beautiful in pink, cheeks reddened and round. When he releases you, you consider falling again just so he’ll return. Instead, you gesture for him to follow you into the building, which he does. Although the stairs are a tough bet, you manage to stumble up them. You swear you hear Leon huff a laugh behind you when you stagger.

I AM VERY NORMAL SO VERY NORMAL ABT A CUTE BLUSHING LEON !!!

“I’ll be right here,” Leon returns. “I’ll keep watch,”

pls i would kill for this man to keep me safe HELLOOOO

He holds you, gently and carefully, cradling you as you fall apart. And you know, in that moment, that he won’t hold it against you later.

excuse me. how dare u write something so soft and gentle UGH IM GOING CRAZY

“Getting tired of me already?” he teases. Spending actual time with Leon has made you realize that he’s funny and playful. He’s not always stoic and unforgiving. He teases, he jokes, he smiles. You didn’t think the latter was possible. You just assumed that he was always unhappy.

NOW THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE I AM SO DUMB SO STUPID FOR HIMKFJDSFD WHAT A FUCKING DORK HE IS AAAA

“I just thought…you might be more comfortable here,” You smile at that. You can hear the insecurity in his voice, something you find sweet. “I’d like to stay here,” “Okay,” he says. You can almost hear the smile. It makes your heart flutter.

NO WORDS. MY BRAIN IS MUSH

He grins at you, and you feel like the entire city lights up a little more.

MY POOR HEART !!!!!!

Almost as if he senses you moving, he follows you, caging you into his arms. You feel like your heart stops when he pulls you in, sighing into your hair. His breath wafts down your neck, pulling up goosebumps in its wake. Your heart hammers against your chest.

yeah i'm gonna need like. 3 business days to recover from this one, boss

He’s slowly consumed every part of your life. It’s nice, you think. He looks so domesticated in these instances, like he’s your friend rather than someone to look after you. You like it. You like that he sometimes steals your shampoo when he runs out. You like that he learned what foods you like. You like that he made you a key. You like him. And that is a scary thought.

WHY WOULD YOU PUT THIS INTO SUCH LOVELY WORDS I AM LOSING MY MIND. !!!!!!!!!! MY POOR DOMESTIC HEART AAA

You know you’re on edge, but you can’t help it. It feels like a sin to want him.

A SIN???????? OOH GGFOGGFKGOFGK GODDDD

His smell permeates everything around you. Even in your new apartment with new furniture, you can’t wash away his cologne. Everything smells of cedar and smoke with a hint of citrus. You washed your clothes three times when you moved in, a feeble attempt at ridding yourself of him. You bought new shampoo.

JESUS CHRIST I AM NOT OKATY

You feel safe around him, regardless of the anger. You know he’d protect you regardless.

...... yu know it is embarrassing how much i'd trust this man. how pathetic i'd be for him. SOBBING

A cold hand slips beneath your shirt, soft and delicate against the red hot skin of your waist. You shiver against it. Devotion makes you dizzy as you pull away, breathing like you’ve nearly drowned. You steel yourself against his shoulders. He looks pretty like this, you think, lips kiss swollen and pulling in a grin around his teeth, face reddened with flush and excitement, hair falling into his eyes. “I resigned,” he says, panting. “So I could do that,” You laugh. “You could’ve done that anyway,” you say. He grins. “Felt wrong,” he says. “I wanted to do it right,”

you deserve a standing ovation for this one. holy shit. it flew so effortlessly and gosh. JDKDSFDKJF.

heaven is not fit

summary: what does it take to be loved? | bodyguard!leon x f!reader

word count: ~8.5k

warnings: mentions of violence, leon is kinda mean for like two seconds, strong language, mild trauma bonding (i guess??), not beta'd, incredibly mild angst (like fr you have to squint)

notes: this is sort of old and has already been posted to ao3 if you'd rather have a look there

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” you hiss. Your father’s face scrunches up.

“Language,” he mends, holding a hand up. “It’s just a precaution. He’ll be responsible for public spaces, taking you places, the like,”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Dad, I’m an adult. I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself. The last thing I need is some stranger on my detail,”

Your father runs a hand over his worn features. He’s tired, you can tell. “I’m not making the same mistake twice,”

Ashley. She lives with her friends now, rather than alone, so there’s no real need to supervise her. Your heart twists with a twinge of guilt, but you hold your ground. “I’m not happy about this,”

“I didn’t expect you to be,” he says. “But, you’ll play by the rules, at least for me. For my sake, dove,”

You frown. “Fine,”

You meet him in a random conference room. He’s tall, with sharp features and blue eyes. He doesn’t seem friendly, which makes your mouth sour. He doesn’t speak through the introduction, just sort of stares straight ahead, like he’d rather be anywhere else. You don’t blame him. It’s not exactly a promotion he’s getting. You barely catch his name when he says it.

Leon.

It suits him, you think. You want to ask what his middle name is, if it’s as fitting as his first, but you don’t. Instead, you toe the carpet, listening to your father drone on about rules.

“Dovie, I’m serious,” he says, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t go anywhere alone, got it?”

“Got it,”

Despite your sickly sweet voice and feigned sincerity, you have no intention of keeping that promise. The ride to your apartment is silent. You notice that Leon drives with one hand, the other perched on the gear shift. When he stops outside your building, you hesitate for a moment before reaching for the handle, just in case he has something to say. As you shoulder the door, he grabs your elbow.

“Call if there’s an emergency,” he says. His voice is low timbred and honey sweetened, coating your nerves in warmth. You can only nod in response. He releases your arm, the tension from the area slipping away.

You hurry into your building, and you notice he waits until you’re through the door to drive off. It comforts you in a way. You make your way into your apartment. There’s a distinct heat on your neck when you enter, one that you hope disappears with a long shower. When it doesn’t, you find yourself staring at the phone. What would happen if you did call him? There wasn’t an emergency, unless you count this sudden bout of loneliness as an emergency. Would he show up? How is it any different than calling the police?

Six hours have passed since being demoted to babysat. You’ve been shuffled between rooms to meet with people, answer questions you don’t understand, and fight with your father. You find that being surrounded by people all day has made you exhausted. You take a breath, but jump when your phone vibrates.

“Hey, Ashley,” you say, sighing.

“Did you meet him?” she asks. You almost laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “He doesn’t talk much,”

“No, he doesn’t,” she says. You can hear her friends laughing somewhere in the background. “You gotta get him to open up before he starts talking,”

“I can’t imagine that’ll be easy to do,” you huff. Ashley laughs. “He seems kinda stuck in his ways,”

“He is,” she agrees. “He’s…been through a lot. But, he’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him,”

You glance out the window at the rain. You wonder if it ever rained like this in Spain. “Well, if you trust him, so do I,”

…

You don’t see Leon for a week. You almost think he’s quit, but you know he doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You consider calling him, just to see if he’d really show up, but you decide not to test it.

Instead, you go about your life normally. You go to work, you see friends, you buy groceries. You pretend you don’t have a babysitter.

On Monday, when you return home from work, you spot Leon’s car outside your building. Rolling your eyes, you prepare for the worst, and work your way into the building. Sure enough, he’s sitting on your couch when you enter your apartment.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, closing the door behind you. He doesn’t look at you.

“You haven’t called,” he says. You roll your eyes again.

“You said to call if there was an emergency,” you explain, cocking a brow. “There hasn’t been one,”

“You shouldn’t walk to work alone,” he continues. He turns his head finally, staring at you with the same stoic expression you first saw on him. You blink at him.

“How do you know I walk alone?” you ask. “Have you been following me?”

He nods. “It’s my job,”

You sigh, turning away. “Definitely not creepy,”

“Have you noticed anything weird?” he asks, standing to follow you into your kitchen.

“Other than you? No, I haven’t,” you say. He doesn’t laugh, not that you expected him to. “Seriously, I haven’t noticed anything amiss,”

He nods. “Good,”

He turns to leave, and you raise your eyebrows, surprised at the quickness of the interaction. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “That’s it,”

“You don’t want to, like, scope out the area?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Make sure no weirdos are lurking behind my curtains?”

“Do you think there are?” he asks, looking at you. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I mean, no,” you say.

“Then I won’t waste your time,” he says. “You’re an adult. I trust that you can take care of yourself,”

With that, he leaves. You’re taken aback at his cut and dry attitude. You would’ve thought he would be more hands on, given what you know about his time with Ashley. You choose to ignore it; you should be grateful he’s not up your ass. He said it himself, you’re an adult. You can take care of yourself. It’s not his fault–or yours–that no one else seemed to agree. He has plenty of other things he can spend his time doing besides watching your every move.

Which is why, the following morning, you’re surprised to see Leon waiting outside beside his car. You look around before crossing the street to him. Without a word, he opens the passenger door.

“I take it I’m not allowed to walk alone anymore?” you say, ignoring his gesture. He stares at you.

“Rules are rules,” he says. You roll your eyes, filing into the vehicle.

He joins you a moment later. You ignore the heat on your neck when he brushes his hand against your knee to reach for something in the glovebox.

“I’ve been walking this way for years,” you protest. “I don’t need a ride,”

“You don’t have a choice,” he says, cutting a glance at you. He almost makes a wrong turn before you correct him. “I make the rules, you follow them,”

“And rule number one is: don’t walk to work by myself?” you ask, annoyance lacing your tone.

“Well, rule number one is actually to call me if something’s wrong,” he corrects. “But, this is rule number two,”

The rest of the ride is silent. Leon doesn’t so much as glance at you, which almost upsets you. He pulls up to the curb outside of your workplace, and throws the car into park.

“What time do you get off?” he asks, finally looking at you. There’s a gentle tone to his voice, one that throws you off guard.

“Four,” you say. “I’ll be off at four,”

“I’ll be outside,” he says. At this, you exit the car, rounding it before entering the building. He waits for you to get inside before driving off. You wonder what he’ll be doing for the next eight hours. If his job is to follow you around, that means he doesn’t have another job to get to, so what does he do? You wonder what he does when he’s at home.

“Since when did you have a chauffeur?” Marnie asks, jabbing your shoulder.

“Since now,” you say, still looking out the window.

Four o’clock rolls around sooner than you expect. You find yourself a little excited to sit in the car; it’s a nice change of pace. As expected, Leon’s waiting outside the building when you walk out. Again, he’s leaning against the car, waiting for you. When he sees you, you think he’s going to smile. Your shoulders deflate when he doesn’t. Instead, he jerks his head in a gesture to hurry up. You cross the street, and he rounds the car to the passenger side.

“I can open the door myself,” you say. He looks at you.

“I do it for show,” he bites. You swallow, stunned by the harshness of his tone. You allow him to open the door for you.

The ride is silent. Again, he doesn’t look at you. You can feel the tension about him, the way his shoulders are square and strong. His knuckles are almost white from the way he’s holding the steering wheel. You ignore the guilt that brews in your stomach.

“Call me if there’s an emergency,” he says. You nod, hurrying out of the car to avoid any further conversation. Again, he waits until you’re in the building to leave. You wonder if that’s a gentlemanly habit or a job habit.

…

It’s Friday night, and you’re going out with friends. You stare in the mirror, like you have for the last half hour, analyzing the intricacies of your outfit. You can’t decide if you like it or not. You tug at the shirt again, wondering if you should change. There’s a knock at the door. You huff, deciding that the outfit will have to do.

You’re not sure who you expect to be at the door, but it’s not Leon. He looks collected, jacket slung over his shoulders, hair framing his face. He looks normal, not like a man constantly working. He blinks at you.

“Where’re you going?” he asks. You sigh.

“Hello to you, too, Leon,” you say. “I’m going out with a few friends,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to ask permission for things,”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You can practically feel the anger radiating off of him. “You kind of do, actually. So I can be where I need to be,”

“Well, I don’t need you to be anywhere,” you bite. He frowns. “I can take care of myself,”

At this, you go to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. He pushes his way into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Look,” he says, voice low and gentle. “I get it. But I have a job to do, and I’m not going to let your stubborn independence get in the way, alright?”

You stare at him. “Stop being such an asshole, and I’ll think about it,”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of playfulness to it. “Sure, deal,”

Leon doesn’t follow you into the bar, and if he actually does, he makes it so that you can’t see him. You spend the evening laughing and enjoying yourself, which is relieving. You needed a break from everything. Your friends ask about the fact that you got a ride here, rather than walking.

“My feet have been killing me lately,” you lie. “And have you seen these shoes? I’d probably die ten feet from my building,”

When you’re sufficiently drunk, you call Leon. It’s the first time that you’ve actually called him, rather than just expecting him to show up. He’s kind enough to act like he’s not in the vicinity, and you pretend that he’s not. Instead, you lie to yourself and say that he drives very fast. He’s standing outside the bar, waiting for you again.

“My hero,” you say, voice flighty and gentle. “I shouldn’t have worn these shoes,”

He doesn’t answer, just helps you into the car. You ramble about your night on the drive home, not giving him the room to answer because you know he won’t. 

“Did you learn to drive on a manual?” you mumble, whirring your head away from the window to look at him. He glances at you.

“What?”

“A manual,” you say again. “Manual transmission. You drive with your hand on the shift, like you’ll need to use it at any given moment. In an automatic, you don’t need to do that, but in a manual you do. So, if you learned to drive on a manual, you would’ve picked up that habit,”

He doesn’t respond for a long while. His eyes are focused on the road ahead of him. Finally, he says, “Yeah, I did,”

You feel satisfied with yourself, surprised that you were able to figure that out. “You have a lot of habits like that,”

“Name some,” he says, cutting a glance at you.

You take in a breath. “You wait outside before leaving so you can make sure I get into my building safely. You bite the inside of your cheek when you’re thinking about something. You square your shoulders in public, like you’re prepared to shoot,”

“You’re observant,” he says. You grin.

“Gotta know who I’m spending time with,” you reply, grinning wildly and returning your focus to the window. 

You almost ask him to keep driving when your apartment building comes into view. There’s an air of understanding and comfort in the car, and you’re worried you’ll never see it again once you leave. You hope he doesn’t notice your disappointment when he pulls over.

“Do you need help getting in?” he asks. The gentle tone is back, and you pretend, for a moment, that he genuinely cares. You shake your head.

He watches you almost fall out of the car, stumbling on your tall heels and drunken legs. You right yourself, flashing him a smile. He returns it, then follows you out of the car.

“I can make it,” you say, balancing against his car. When you almost fall again, he’s there to catch you. His hands fall against your waist with ease, like they’re meant to be there. You feel heat flush your cheeks, and you almost move away. He steadies you, giving you a look to make sure you’re alright.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, still smiling faintly.

“I’ve never seen you smile before,” you say. “You should do it more, it’s nice,”

Leon looks beautiful in pink, cheeks reddened and round. When he releases you, you consider falling again just so he’ll return. Instead, you gesture for him to follow you into the building, which he does. Although the stairs are a tough bet, you manage to stumble up them. You swear you hear Leon huff a laugh behind you when you stagger.

At your door, you pat your pockets in order to find your key. Sensing your loss, Leon holds out the key he has. You accept it gratefully, turning the knob to make sure it’s actually locked.

Your heart sinks to find it unlocked.

“Did you forget to lock it?” he asks, voice hushed. You turn to him, fear evident on your face, and shake your head. He steps between you and the door, and holds a hand out to tell you to stay put. You find yourself willing to listen.

He enters the apartment slowly, quietly. You pretend there isn’t a gun in his hand. He rounds the corner into the kitchen, and you catch his frame again when he crosses the room to the bedroom. He returns in a few minutes.

“It’s clear,” he says. He pushes the door open more to allow you to enter. You feel uneasy, suddenly sober.

“I never forget to lock my door,” you promise. “Ever. Is…is the window open or something?”

He shakes his head. “You must’ve forgotten this time,”

“No, no I don’t do that,” you say. You wander to the window, finding it closed. Your head hurts. You feel on edge, like there’s someone watching you.

With a sigh, you sit on the couch.

“There’s no one here,” Leon promises, sitting beside you. You look at him. “Trust me, I checked,”

“But what if someone was here?” you say, looking at him. “I don’t…I don’t want them to come back,”

He reaches out for a moment, then decides to return his hand to his side. “No one’s coming back. I’ll make sure of it, okay?”

You can feel your hands shaking. “Will you stay?”

He softens when he looks at you. He can see the fear in your eyes. You think of your sister, stolen from somewhere she felt safe. You feel safe in your home, as anyone might. You don’t want to face the same fate. You know Leon knows that.

“Yeah,” he says. “Go change, I’ll be out here,”

You nod, rising to your feet. You wander past the window again, double checking that it’s closed. You find your clothes in the dark, not caring too much about what you put on. A shower sounds nice. You’re afraid to be alone for that long, though. Instead, you wash your face in the sink, then throw on your clothes, a loose t-shirt from a far off ex-boyfriend and sweatpants. You feel vaguely comforted by the thought of Leon sitting right outside the door.

“I’m going to try to sleep,” you call from the door. You want nothing more than to curl up in your bed.

“I’ll be right here,” Leon returns. “I’ll keep watch,”

You shuffle into bed easily. You feel safer knowing he’s outside, waiting for any potential threats. You feel especially safe knowing his reputation precedes him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he would protect you. It makes it easier to sleep.

You wake sometime later to a creak beside your bed. Your eyes shoot open to find a figure looming over you. You move to scream, but your eye catches the glint of moonlight against the barrel of a gun. You swallow whatever scream you had left, and rise to your feet. You’re moving without much thought, just doing whatever instinct tells you to. The figure says nothing, just motions to the window. You run through your options. If you shout, you’ll be dead before Leon even makes it into the room. You can’t fight him off, you’re definitely not strong enough. If you leave with him, you’ll be dead before Leon notices you’re gone. 

You turn to face your attacker, who seems to grow frustrated with you. He, again, gestures to the open window. You take a breath.

Follow your gut.

In a fluid motion that surprises you, your fingers wrap around the barrel of the gun, shoving it towards the ceiling. You feel lucky; just as it’s pointed away from you, it’s fired. You knee the attacker in the stomach, and you’re out the door before he rises from the ground. 

“What’s going on?” Leon shouts, assessing you for injuries quickly before entering the room.

You’re crying now, fat tears rolling down your cheeks before you can stop them. Your hand screams with pain, seared flesh crying out angry and red. You feel stupid, weak, small. You collapse onto the couch while Leon takes care of things.

The next two hours are a blur of police and your father. You answer questions vacantly, absent from the situation. Leon sits beside you, dressing the wound on your hand. 

“Dovie,” your father says, holding your face in his hands. You begin to cry again. He pulls you into a hug, holding you as close as he can. You grip the back of his shirt, and sob into his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you say. It’s true. You’re alive, breathing, hugging him. “I’m okay,”

When the crowd shuffles out, they take you and Leon with them. You vaguely hear them discussing where you’re supposed to stay, Lord knows you can’t stay here. You feel sick.

“She can stay with me,” Leon volunteers. You somehow feel worse. “Makes sense,”

You follow him to the car. You stare out the window. The sun is coming up on the horizon, a new day. You can’t help but think about how just 24 hours ago, you were in this passenger seat, on your way to work. Now, though, you’re swollen and hurting and scared. Your hand feels like it might just burn away.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you say by way of explanation. Leon doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I just grabbed it. I didn’t know it would burn me,”

“You’re lucky nothing is broken,” he says calmly. “Your fingers’ll be stiff for the next few days,”

You look down at them. They’re swollen for sure, round and angry red around the knuckles. There’s a strip of gauze against the burn on your palm now, courtesy of Leon’s deft and gentle hands. You graze it with your opposite hand. It aches beneath the dressing, a painful reminder of your night.

“I’m just up here,” Leon says quietly. You nod absently.

He lives in an apartment, same as you. He resides on the third floor, which is much nicer a walk than your seventh story apartment. His apartment is small, quaint, but you aren’t surprised by the lack of decoration. Blank white walls wrap the room. There’s a few pieces of furniture, but only the necessities like a couch, a few tables, a dining area, and a coat rack. He doesn’t even have a TV, which surprises you. He ushers you into the space, gently pushing against your back to get you to move.

“Go lie down,” he says. You turn to look at him. His gaze is softer now, full of sympathy. “You deserve peaceful, uninterrupted sleep,”

You don’t move. “You saved me,” you say. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there,”

“You handled yourself pretty well,” he says, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You can feel tears resting in your eyes, begging to spill over. “I was there, and now you’re here. Nothing else to it. You’re safe with me,”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know,”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him. His embrace is comforting. His arms encircle your waist, holding you in an almost practiced way. He’s strong, holds you up where you can’t stand on your own. You can feel yourself beginning to cry again, relief washing over you as you recognize that you’re truly safe. You’re mostly uninjured, save for the burn on your hand, and you’re alive. You sob gently into Leon’s shoulder, and he holds you. He lets you cry. You half expect him to mock you, or to reject your plea for comfort, but he doesn’t. He holds you, gently and carefully, cradling you as you fall apart. And you know, in that moment, that he won’t hold it against you later.

…

You spend the next week off work, curled away in the safety of Leon’s apartment. He goes out, although rarely, for groceries and other things to entertain you. He even buys a TV. He claims that he’s been meaning to get one, but you know that he did that so you didn’t die of boredom. Initially, you were concerned about the sleeping arrangements. However, Leon is generous and lets you sleep in his bed while he shacks up on the couch.

“When can I go home?” you ask over Chinese takeout and an episode of Wheel of Fortune. Leon smiles at you.

“Getting tired of me already?” he teases.

Spending actual time with Leon has made you realize that he’s funny and playful. He’s not always stoic and unforgiving. He teases, he jokes, he smiles. You didn’t think the latter was possible. You just assumed that he was always unhappy.

“No,” you say honestly. “I just don’t want you to sleep on the couch anymore,”

He waves a hand at you. “It’s pretty comfortable,” he says, reaching down to pat the cushions. “I’ve slept in worse places,”

“This is your home, though,” you say. He wordlessly passes you an eggroll. “You should sleep in your own bed in your own home,”

He shrugs, which makes you frown. “As long as you’re safe and comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to,”

“Damn it, Leon,” you laugh. He grins wider. “For the love of God, sleep in your own bed tonight,”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, but you don’t get to sleep on the couch either, just so you know,”

Heat creeps up your neck, blushing against your cheeks and nose. You’re still smiling, but it’s more flustered now, shy and sweet.

Leon notices, and begins to flush himself. “That’s…that’s not what I meant,”

“I mean,” you begin, turning your eyes back to your food. “We can both sleep comfortably and not worry. I trust you,”

He lets out a barely audible breath. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we can,”

That night, as you’re getting ready for bed, you notice Leon shifting nervously. You try to ignore it, pretend like nothing’s wrong. It’s easier to pretend. He keeps a decent distance between you on the bed; another person could easily fit between you. You’re suddenly self conscious, aware of each and every movement, how much blanket you take up, where your feet are laying. 

“You never answered my question,” you say when he flips the lamp off. The room is flooded in darkness. You feel a little more confident now that you can’t see his face.

“What question?”

“About when I can go home,” you answer. He shifts beside you, almost like he’s about to get up.

“Not for a little while,” he says. You sigh. “It’s not safe for you at the apartment. Your dad doesn’t even want you going to work, but I worked something out so that you can. You can…you can stay here as long as you want,”

“Okay,” is all you say. You feel a little far away, removed from the world. In just under a month, you’ve lost all sense of independence, something you valued greatly, and have been reduced to someone that needs to be looked after like a child. You hate it.

“We can find a temporary apartment, too, if you think that’d be better,” Leon amends. “I just thought…you might be more comfortable here,”

You smile at that. You can hear the insecurity in his voice, something you find sweet. “I’d like to stay here,”

“Okay,” he says. You can almost hear the smile. It makes your heart flutter.

You turn onto your side, facing him. He’s still lying on his back, watching the ceiling as if it’s going to collapse. He glances at you. “If we’re going to be living together, we should get to know each other,”

He laughs. It’s a real laugh, not just a huff of air through the nose. “And what do you want to know?”

You think for a moment, tongue poking between your lips. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Don’t have one,” he replies easily. You snort.

“Everyone has a favorite color,” you say. He looks at you with a smile resting on his cheeks. It’s not compulsory; it’s genuine. 

“What’s yours then?” he asks, voice low and gentle. You feel like you might melt away under his gaze.

“Blue,” you say. You almost tell him that his eyes have become your favorite shade of it, but you refrain. “Like the ocean,”

His smile widens. “Then that’s mine, too,” he says. You roll your eyes.

“No way,” you tease. “What is Leon Kennedy’s favorite color? And give me a real answer,”

He laughs. “Green,”

“Like, Kermit the Frog green or forest green?” you ask. He shrugs.

“Just…green,”

“So if I were to paint the apartment bright green you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you ask. His expression sours. “So you don’t like every green, then,”

“I like dark greens,” he says finally, still smiling. “Like pine trees,”

“I never thought I would get an honest answer out of you,” you joke, but there’s truth to it. You don’t imagine him as someone who likes to share.

“To be fair,” he says. “It wasn’t like I was withholding information, I’ve just never thought about my favorite color,”

“Well, now you have,” you say. He grins at you, and you feel like the entire city lights up a little more.

He’s quiet for a moment. The moonlight casts over his face in a way that somehow makes him prettier. “If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?”

“God, your questions are so lame,” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“Just answer it,” he says.

“I’d bring you,” you say honestly. “Knowing you, we wouldn’t get stuck there, and I’d be home in a few days,”

“I wouldn’t get stuck in the first place,” he says. You shake your head. “Honestly, I’d probably bring something to listen to music on,”

“Then you better hope it doesn’t die,” you say. “Good to know the sentiment is equally held, by the way,”

“Would you be able to get us off the island?” he asks, poking your shoulder. You shake your head. “Exactly,”

“I’d keep you company while you got us off the island,” you say. He laughs. Your heart seizes for a moment at the sound.

“What would I do without your terrible jokes?”

“My jokes aren’t terrible!”

“Totally terrible,” he promises, turning over to his other side, facing away from you. “Some of the worst I’ve ever heard,”

You laugh. “Yeah, well, yours are pretty bad, too, y’know?”

“You wound me,”

You fall asleep easily beside Leon. The safety his presence brings is immeasurable, and you’re coaxed into sleep without a second thought. When you wake, your head is on his shoulder, arms wrapped around one of his own. You cling to him like he’s keeping you alive. His breathing is slow, giving away the fact that he’s still sleeping, so you steal a glance at him. His other arm is slung over his face to block out the sunlight peering through the window. Feeling strange, you roll onto your other side. Almost as if he senses you moving, he follows you, caging you into his arms. You feel like your heart stops when he pulls you in, sighing into your hair. His breath wafts down your neck, pulling up goosebumps in its wake. Your heart hammers against your chest.

…

It becomes routine. Until your father deems it safe to return to your own apartment, you shack up with Leon, spending your nights watching television and lying beside him. If he ever notices that you cling to each other, he doesn’t mention it, which you silently thank him for. He goes about life as normal, as if he hasn’t changed the way you look at him.

There’s menial touches exchanged. The grab of a hand during a movie, a palm to your lower back as he passes, the brush of hands when you pass him something. And although you welcome these bits of contact, they often leave you a blushing mess that struggles to even get words out.

He drives you to work still, which you’re becoming accustomed to. He’s there when you finish up. He’s the person you split groceries with–which he only let you start doing after you argued with him for days about it. He’s slowly consumed every part of your life. It’s nice, you think. He looks so domesticated in these instances, like he’s your friend rather than someone to look after you. You like it. You like that he sometimes steals your shampoo when he runs out. You like that he learned what foods you like. You like that he made you a key.

You like him. And that is a scary thought.

It makes you freeze up around him, stumbling between words until you find something to say. It makes you stare at him in awe because you can’t believe you get to be around him all the time. It makes you blush any time he meets your eyes. You feel childish because it makes you that way.

“Gonna tell me what’s up with you, or do I have to interrogate you?” he asks one night over pizza. You’ve been sitting with the plate in your lap for ten minutes.

“Nothing’s up,” you say, lying through your teeth. You’re a bad liar, and he knows it. When you look at him, he’s watching you, analyzing your body language. You know you’re on edge, but you can’t help it. It feels like a sin to want him.

He looks pretty like this, you think. He looks comfortable, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, no weapons stuck to him. Your hand twitches with the desire to reach out to him.

“So you’ve been acting weird the last few days for fun?” he asks. You nod. “You’re such a shitty liar, sweet girl,”

His voice is gentle; it warms you up. “Really, Leon, I’m alright,”

He holds his hands up in defense. “Okay, I won’t pry. But, I’m here to listen,”

You force yourself to eat, to be normal. You can’t even look at him because you’re afraid of what you might say if you do. He wouldn’t mock you for it, and that’s somehow worse. You almost want him to belittle you, to call you stupid, because that would make pushing him away much easier. If he doesn’t, then who are you to cut him off?

“I can practically hear the gears turning, doll,” Leon calls from the kitchen. You sigh. “If you’re not going to share, don’t be so loud about it, huh?”

You know it’s meant to be a joke, but it makes your mouth sour. He can’t help the curiosity, you know that, but you wish he would back off. It would make your life so much easier if he pretended that you didn’t exist.

“I don’t have to tell you everything about me,” you say. It comes out harsh even though it wasn’t supposed to. “I’m entitled to my own thoughts. Or is that another thing you’re paid to infiltrate?”

He stands in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at you. “I don’t think I’m infiltrating anything,” he says. His voice is even, but you can hear the hurt in the words.

“Then keep it that way,” you say. He inhales deeply, beginning to gnaw on his cheek. You feel guilt wrapping around your throat. You turn your gaze back to the television, feigning interest in the commercial that clogs the speakers. He disappears back into the kitchen.

You’re almost thankful when your phone rings. You don’t get many calls, so when you see it’s your father, you’re less than surprised.

“Hey, Dad,” you say breathily.

“Hey, Dovie,” he returns. “Getting all packed?”

You pause, glancing toward the archway into the kitchen. “Packed?”

“He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?” you ask, sitting up on the couch. You can hear Leon shuffle in the other room. “What do I need to be told?”

“We’re moving you,” your father says, plain as day. “We’ll be finding someone else to watch over you, too,”

“Huh,” is all you say. There’s less guilt around your shoulders now, replaced by anger and humiliation. “Well, if that’s how it goes,”

“I’ll get back to you later, okay, Dovie?” he says. “Get to packing, I’ll tell you more when I can,”

You bid your father goodbye, staring back at the phone screen long after it goes black. You feel your shoulders deflate, allowing the melancholy to consume you a little bit further. You stand, return to Leon’s room, and pull open the dresser drawers where your clothes have resided for the last few weeks. Slowly, almost on autopilot, you begin pulling them out one by one. A shirt, pants, sweatpants, a lone sock; they fall onto the floor with an unceremonious thud. You go until the drawer is empty, the contents piled up on the floor beside your feet.

“I was going to tell you,” comes from the bedroom door. You take a breath. “I didn’t know how,”

“I assume it would’ve been pretty easy,” you say, turning to look him in the eye. He stiffens at the cruelty lacing your tone. “All you had to do was let me know you were done with me. Not like you were in all that deep anyway,”

He doesn’t say anything. You cross the room to the small closet that holds your suitcase. You begin to haphazardly stuff it with your clothes.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, sweet girl,” Leon says softly, taking a step forward.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty fucking disappointed right now,” you spit, glancing at him. “Would’ve liked to have known my life was getting upended days ago. Would’ve liked to have known that I was wasting my fucking time,”

“Wasting your time?” he asks, catching your wrist as you push down the top of the suitcase.

“I tried so hard to get to know you, Leon,” you say. He winces. “And to think, that for a fraction of a second, I thought you liked me? I feel stupid. You never cared. It’s not in your nature. You go in, do the job, and get out. When’s the last time you talked to Ashley, huh? Or is that something else you like to keep boxed away?”

He releases your wrist. You continue packing your things, and he leaves the room. He returns a moment later with your nearly empty bottle of shampoo.

“Don’t forget this when you leave,” he says coldly. You ignore the ache it leaves in your bones.

“Might as well keep it,” you say. “You’ve used most of it anyway,”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Isn’t that one hell of a metaphor?” you say before you can stop yourself. “I gave and gave, and you just took. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. And what do I know about you? Your favorite color is green. And even then, it was like pulling fucking teeth to get it out of you. Just keep it. I don’t want it anyway. Can’t put the shampoo back in the bottle, right?”

“I get that you’re angry,” he mumbles. “I understand,”

“No, you don’t,” you say, turning to him finally. He’s staring at you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t place. “You have no idea what I’m feeling right now,”

“You’re right,” he says. You falter for a moment. “I never once said that I did. I just…understand. I can follow the logic between you and your emotion,”

You roll your eyes, choosing not to respond. Your suitcase finally zips closed, and you haul it off the bed, nearly knocking yourself down. He drives you back to your apartment. He doesn’t say anything the entire ride, not even when you finally get out of the car. You leave the key to his place on the center console.

…

His smell permeates everything around you. Even in your new apartment with new furniture, you can’t wash away his cologne. Everything smells of cedar and smoke with a hint of citrus. You washed your clothes three times when you moved in, a feeble attempt at ridding yourself of him. You bought new shampoo.

You feel ridiculous. Your heart aches, and for what? A man who never showed interest? You ignore the acrid taste in your mouth that seems to never go away. You ignore the yearning in your bones. You ignore the burning in your chest. It’s easier that way.

He tries calling. You ignore those, too. You pretend he’s a telemarketer, or a prank calling kid, or an old man with the wrong number. You pretend you don’t recognize the number, and that the messages he leaves on your machine are empty. You find that pretending makes the hurting stop for a while, even if it creeps back up when you’re staring at the ceiling at night because you can’t sleep alone anymore.

You cook breakfast more often now, finding that it takes up the empty time in the morning before you go to work. The new guy is nice. He talks about his wife a lot, which you find sweet. You like that there’s no unresolved tension when you get into his car. You just wish you could remember his name.

“Do you know him?” he asks, pointing across the parking lot. Leon leans against his car, watching you pull in. You sigh.

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s friendly,”

“Doesn’t look like it,”

“Well,” you say. “He’s not actually friendly. But he’s not a threat,”

He lets you leave. You can almost see the way Leon stretches back up when you approach. You set your jaw.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” he says. You raise your brows at him.

“I don’t have to,” you say. “You lost that privilege.”

He shakes his head. “I’d still like to know if you’re okay,”

“I’m fine, Leon,” you say. He nods. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in,”

You feel like a fool the second you invite him upstairs. You can’t help it. You want to be around him. You feel safe around him, regardless of the anger. You know he’d protect you regardless.

You feel insecure about the state of your new apartment. You haven’t gotten around to breaking it in, so to speak, so the walls are bleak and empty, there’s a loveseat and nothing else, and a single lamp lights up the room. You wring your hands together.

“Missing a few things,” he says. “Where’s all your stuff?”

“Haven’t gotten around to putting it up,” you lie. It’s more like you haven’t wanted to put anything up. You don’t want this place to feel like a home because it isn’t. This is temporary—as long as you keep telling yourself that, it feels true.

“I’ll get you a rug,” he says, meeting your eyes. It almost feels like a peace offering.

“I don’t need a rug,” you say. You see his shoulders slump. “I prefer socks anyway,”

“Right, yeah,”

He’s silent for a while, just watches you as you set up for the night. He sits rigid against the cushions of your couch, hands clasped in his lap. You grab a frozen pizza from the freezer for dinner. His eyes don’t leave you. You don’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze, it’s almost comforting.

“I owe you an explanation,” he says finally. You almost laugh.

“I don’t need an explanation, Leon,” you say. “I get it. Your job makes you move around a lot. You were never intended to be permanent,”

“I resigned,” he says. At this, you turn to face him. He’s searching your features for a reaction, and you fight to keep them neutral, but you know he can see the discomposure. Heat creeps up your neck, threatens to swallow you whole.

“You resigned?” you repeat, far quieter in order to conceal the stutter in your breath.

He nods. “I did what I thought I was supposed to,”

“And that was leaving me?” you say. He averts his eyes. “How on Earth is that what you were supposed to do? You were being paid to be around me, and you thought you were supposed to leave?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, returning his gaze to you. “You have to know that that’s not what I meant,”

“Leon,” you say, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know a thing about you. I don’t know if what you’ve told me about is even fucking true!”

“My middle name is Scott,” he says. You blink at him. “My favorite color is green, that was true. I slept with a baby blanket until I was thirteen years old. I lost my parents when I was young. I used to be a cop,”

He unloads. For the first time since you met him, he lets you into his head a little bit. You take in a breath.

“I don’t…” he begins, then shuts his mouth again. He gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment. “I don’t know how to be…like this anymore. Vulnerable,”

You join him on the couch. He watches you carefully. “That’s okay,”

“It’s something I’m working on,” he says, smiling slightly. You can’t fight one of your own. “I think you make it easier,”

“I’ll be here to listen,” you say quietly. “You know you’re always welcome,”

He grins then. “Whether you want me here or not, right?”

You laugh. “I always want you here,”

There’s something left unsaid between you, but he’s looking at you and laughing at your jokes, and you feel like the world begins to spin again. You feel like the sun shines a little brighter outside, and the colors are clearer, and songs sound like music. 

…

You find out that his name is Ryan. He’s more like a personal chauffeur than his intended job, but you like him well enough. Leon spends most of his time on your couch. Things are normal again. He offers to cook dinner most nights, which you appreciate. He does end up buying you a rug–he claims it’s because his feet get too cold without it.

“If you do that one more time, I’m kicking you out,” you scold, swatting Leon’s hand away for the millionth time. He laughs loudly, widely, and it breathes a new air into your lungs.

“I swear to God, sweet girl,” he says between laughter. “There’s something on your face,”

“Then just get it!” you say, wiping your hand aggressively against your cheek. “It doesn’t take a thousand pokes to get something off my face,”

“Hey, I keep missing because you keep moving,” he says, shrugging his shoulders dramatically. You roll your eyes. “C’mere,” 

You lean in a bit more, and he swipes his hand against your cheek. For a moment too long, it remains, delicately holding you as if you might break under increased pressure. He clears his throat and retracts his hand. You feel heat creep up in its place.

“You staying tonight?” you ask. He shrugs. “You know the couch will miss you if you don’t,”

He laughs at this. Your heart swells at the sound. “You just like using me as your personal alarm clock,”

“Not true,” you gasp, clutching your heart in feigned offense. “My couch grows increasingly lonely at night,”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure,”

It occurs to you, in that moment, just how much you want him to kiss you. It would certainly make things a lot easier if he did. You’re almost desperate for him to kiss you. The feeling you have for him is akin to idolatry, an offshoot of worship. He’s magnetic, pulls you in in a way you can’t describe. You can see the entire world in his eyes. He is divinity in its most basic form. Whatever religion he’s created, you would gladly follow it until your last breath.

Want consumes you. An insurmountable degree of yearning swallows you, floods your senses, makes you unstable. 

“Why did you resign?” you ask. His expression falters for a moment. “You never explained it to me,”

He doesn’t answer, just swallows thickly. You take in a breath like it might be your last.

You wring your hands. “I’m owed at least that,”

“I thought it would make things easier,” he says. The answer is vague, like you’d expected. It doesn’t answer your questions.

“That’s not an answer, Leon,” you say, frowning. “Can you give me a straight answer, just this once? I don’t care if you lie to me for the rest of my life, but, please, just give me this,”

He stares at you, as if he’s trying to get one last look at you. “I wanted to start over,”

Your brows knit together as you watch him. He’s stiff against the arm of the couch he leans on. His shoulders are square, jaw set, eyes forward. It’s been a while since he’s gotten a haircut, you notice.

“Start over?” you repeat.

“With you,” he says, staring into the wall behind you. “I wanted you to know me…differently,”

Your heart hammers against your chest. You hope you’re reading this the right way, because if you’re not, you might just die where you sit. “How did you want me to know you?”

“As a person,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “I wanted you to…like me. Not just see me as a guy that follows you around,”

You smile. “I liked you anyway, Leon,” you say. He flushes.

“I mean,” he stutters. “I mean that…I wanted to be right,”

You don’t know when, but he’s leaned in. You can feel his breath on your lips, floating back against your ears. He’s looking at you through his lashes, all starry eyed and vulnerable. His cheeks are pink, rosy and soft. You want him to kiss you. You wonder, for a moment, what it would be like if he did. Goosebumps surface across your skin at the thought, shivering against the flesh like you’d stepped into the cold. You want him to kiss you.

With a shaking breath, you ask, “Right about what?”

He brushes a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand. It slots against the curve of your jaw, just below your ear. You notice that his hands are freezing, but it’s a welcome change in temperature given the heat that resides in your cheeks. You wonder if he can feel the beat of your pulse, hammer strong and rapid against the muscle. You wonder if his would feel the same.

“Leon?” you breathe. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “Are you going to kiss me?”

His breath is shaky. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,”

He indulges. He’s soft against you, sugary sweet and easygoing. He breathes you in like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your hands wind into the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, an attempt to fuse into one. It’s a crescendo at the end of a symphony, harmonies and melodies colliding into one final note. Your ears are ringing. It’s a soft collision of warmth and intimacy, lips and hums that finally get to meet. 

A cold hand slips beneath your shirt, soft and delicate against the red hot skin of your waist. You shiver against it. Devotion makes you dizzy as you pull away, breathing like you’ve nearly drowned. You steel yourself against his shoulders. He looks pretty like this, you think, lips kiss swollen and pulling in a grin around his teeth, face reddened with flush and excitement, hair falling into his eyes.

“I resigned,” he says, panting. “So I could do that,”

You laugh. “You could’ve done that anyway,” you say. He grins.

“Felt wrong,” he says. “I wanted to do it right,”

[http-lovelyknow]

Infuriating -Johnny Suh Pt2

Hello! The long awaited Infuriating pt2 is here!! 

Thank you to everyone for requesting a part 2 and I’m sorry it took me so long😅

Part 1 Here

And I want to give a special thank you to @flowerboykun for proofreading this and making this incredible banner for me I appreciate you so much!

And big thank you to @se-onghwa for proofreading and all the words of support! 

This is part 2 to the Infuriating I posted on my old blog @we-are-luxury-and-treasure hope you like it!

TW NSFW - Dom(softish) Johnny, Sub(reader) but those are the only TW I think? Sorry if I missed anything

Word count -  3,195

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say that Johnny was stalking you would be an overstatement, it was more like haunting.

Ever since you snapped at him a couple of weeks ago you feel like he’s just been. . . watching you. He’s always just somewhere around the corner and you start to feel like prey. His dark amber eyes seem to follow you everywhere and record your every move.

You often recall his threat of “Next time you’ll be punished, so please behave.” At the worst times it never fails to send shivers down your spine.

Today is no different, except instead of shivering alone in the safety of your house away from Johnny, you're thinking of his threat right in front of him like the idiot you are.

Currently trying not to sweat, you're applying makeup to his face for an interview they have, and while the boys behave better, Johnny is still acting up and pushing your buttons just not in the same way. Now he does things like, winking at you, putting his hand on your back to move past even if he didn't need to, leaning too close to whisper something to you, etc, etc but today he’s actually been well mannered.

You lightly hum to yourself as you carefully place eyeshadow onto Johnny's eyelids, his calm breathing is slightly suspicious, he never sits still, but you’ll take what you can get.

The lively sounds of the boys roughhousing behind you fill the room while you stand between Johnny's knees to get every detail right. You shift your weight to one side, you lean over, and grab a clean brush on the table behind his shoulder. 

Mark then decided this would be a perfect time to stumble back, knocking you into Johnny which wouldn’t have been so bad had Johnny not immediately gripped the back of your thighs much tighter than was necessary, effectively holding you against him.

A small yip escapes you when you make contact and you quickly try to scan his face to see if there was a mistake in his makeup due to you being pushed, when you find none you look up and notice Johnny staring at you. 

His eyes flick from your eyes to your lips a couple of times before he takes in a shaky breath and you realize you're still on top of him.

You feel the burn of embarrassment through your spine to the pit of your stomach and try to move away.

He flexes his fingers for a second demanding you meet his gaze one more time.

And you swear to god the spark his amber eyes ignite is enough to set your every nerve on fire.

The whole ordeal takes less than five seconds, Mark is already pulling you up and off of Johnny and starts spilling apologies through his laughter.

 You brush him off as well as yourself with a soft “no harm done” and everyone went about their business, but Johnny suddenly seemed. . . off

So here you are, waiting behind the camera of the well-lit studio trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with Johnny, he keeps avoiding eye contact and shifting around in his seat. 

The lights have caused a slight sheen of sweat to appear on your skin, and just as you go to wipe your brow you finally notice what made Johnny so uncomfortable.

The poor man has a boner.

And there's nothing he can do about it.

The situation is almost laughable until you happen to catch his eye and he sees you smirking. 

You’ve never seen such a livid fire in someone’s eyes.

I’m absolutely and royally fucked.

The interview ended much too quickly in your opinion, you’re all ushered into the ‘backstage’ area.

As you’re gently wiping the makeup off Yuta’s face a very impatient Johnny hovers close by you. 

Everyone packs up and leaves, you remain in the semi-lit room gathering all the little tools and brushes.

Hearing footsteps approach, your heart drops, you know exactly who it is, and how much trouble you’re in.

“Do you happen to remember what was said the last time we spoke?” He’s behind you, “Cause I remember a very clear warning was given to you.” Too afraid to turn around, you remain with feet frozen and gently lift your head to catch his reflection in the mirror. Big mistake.

It never ceases to amaze you just how intimidating the usually sweet but large man is, especially when he’s looking at you like that.

Like he’s a hunter who has fatally cornered his prey, you.

A hot chill shoots through your body as you watch him approach your backside, trying to steady yourself as you grip the makeup table in front of you when he's finally close enough to touch you.

“You think you’re so slick don’t you?” Oh shit, he knows

He smirks as he continues with a taunting cadence in his voice “Think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting? Always standing closer to me than you do the others when you do our make up, always leaning further into me,” He presses himself against you pushing you roughly into the table with his own causing a sharp pain in your hip bones as he leans in closer dropping his tone “Wearing clothes that show just a little more skin, wearing a hint more perfume than normal. . . you really think you’d get away with that shit going unnoticed?”

And that’s just the thing, you wanted him to catch you. 

His hands have begun to wander up to your hips and sides, tracing your shoulders, left hand going back to your waist as the other wraps itself into your hair tugging your head to the side, you make eye contact in the mirror and holy shit does he look delicious. He’s in a white shirt and jeans leftover from the interview, bare face and hair tousled.

And he’s looking at you like you're his favorite meal.

You’re all but gasping for breath at this point, he’s literally knocked the wind from your lungs. 

And that’s when a scary thought strikes you. . . he’s hardly even touched you yet.

“Now tell me, pretty baby, did I not give you a very clear warning about what would happen if you didn't behave?”

Unable to nod with his hand holding your hair you whimper out a weak yes.

“And what did you do today that caused you this situation?”

He punctuates the last word with a knee coming in between your legs from behind, the action makes all the words you’ve ever learned flee from your brain.

“You should know better than to ignore me. . . but I’ll make it real clear for you just this once” He lets go of your hair and begins to roam with his fingertips, surprisingly gentle

“You left me painfully hard right before the interview.”

Fingers gripping your wrists he brings your hand back to start feeling his toned waist through the soft material of his shirt

“You just had to walk in looking like that today...had to let Mark push you right into me. . . just had to leave me hanging like nothing happened”

His teasing tone is too much, you have to keep stopping yourself from making any noise to not embarrass yourself.

He must notice your attempts at the silence and all it does is piss him off.

“Oh absolutely not baby, let me hear you.” 

His hands release yours and one goes to your thigh while the other slips under your shirt caressing your stomach a little more firm than his touch was before, cold rings on his fingers cause a chill to run through you leaving goosebumps behind

He’s being assertive and maybe a little aggressive but you know if you told him to stop he would. He knows you want this as bad as he does, if not even a little more. You had been teasing him after all, you wanted to push all his buttons until he snapped.

“I’m a man of my word baby. It’s time for you to be put in your place and learn who’s boss.”

You begin to push back against his hips with your own, feeling the bulge starting in his pants is driving you wild, you want so bad to run your mouth and get smart with him, but his hands on your bare skin feel so damn good you can’t bring yourself to say anything, not trusting your voice to not come out as a whine.

“What did I say about letting me hear you, baby?”

He grips the thigh he’s holding tightly and finally starts to slip his hand under your bra giving you some relief from your ever-growing frustrations.

He begins to toy with your nipple and knead your breast while his other hand travels closer to where you need him most.

The action causes you to finally let out a soft but deep moan, you reach back and grip his hair while your eyes close, head falling back onto his toned chest

“Oh god. . . that’s it baby, loosen up a bit” He encourages your sounds with a harder grip on your breast and contact with the point between your legs.

He begins to rub you through your pants, the sounds spilling from your lips become more frequent 

“Finally behaving and giving me what I want. . . Now be a good girl and tell me what it is you want from me huh?”

It takes all your willpower to reign yourself back in and attempt to speak despite him torturing you through your clothes like this.

You open your eyes and take in the sight of the two of you in the mirror. His hair is still being gripped by you, his eyes are on fire and he looks like it’s taking everything in him to hold back in case you change your mind.

But you finally have Johnny Suh with his hand up your shirt and down your pants offering you the night of your life, no way in hell you’re gonna tell him no.

You look back up into his eyes in the mirror while gripping his hair and wrist tighter

You challenge him with the most sultry tone you can muster “Johnny, I want you to ruin me, and show me who’s really in charge”

You can see in his eyes the exact moment he snaps while you speak, pupils blowing out and grip almost bruising he spins you around to face him.

He grips your jaw the way he did after you yelled at him, except instead of scolding you like he did then, he’s pressing his lips onto yours.

Moaning into his mouth you strain onto your tippy toes to match his ridiculous height, without much luck but neither of you was focusing on that at the moment.

He lifts you by the back of your thighs onto the makeup table, bringing a hand up to your chin again he tugs your jaw open to slip his tongue inside to run against your own.

And you’ll be damned if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever felt, you vocalize this to him with another rather loud moan.

He leans back and you whine at the loss of contact as his long fingers find the bottom of your shirt.

“God baby you keep making noises like that and I can’t promise to control myself. . .”

He goes back in for another kiss as his hands make their way up your shirt again much to your relief.  

“Then don’t. . .” The words are mumbled into Johnny’s mouth but he hears them nonetheless. 

He lets out a rather dark chuckle at your attitude.

“Oh baby, you have some manners to learn” With that, he cocks his hand back and lands a loud but rather pain-free smack to the part of your thigh exposed by your high waisted shorts causing the muscles to clench on contact at the warning and a noise you didn’t know you could make left your mouth much to his delight. 

He smooths over the afflicted skin with his large palms while whispering sweet sweet praises into your ear. Johnny gently lifts your shirt over your head, he begins trailing hot open-mouthed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone and goddamn does it make you wet.

You can feel yourself get hotter the farther down his mouth travels and you feel like if he doesn’t quit teasing you with his lips and fingertips you're gonna explode

And this is when the whining starts “Johnny. . . please do something I’m gonna die” you curl your fingers back into his hair when he laughs at how desperate you sound.

“I love the way you sound when you whine my name baby.”

“I mean it, Johnny, I'm gonna die please do something, please” your begging seems to have done the trick cause now Johnny is on his knees in front of you still looking at you like you're his favorite meal.

“Lift your hips”

That definitely wasn’t a request and you are more than willing to comply. He slips your shorts down your legs (you barely register not knowing when he unbuttoned them) along with your now-soaked underwear, your thick scent sticking in the air.

He groans at the smell of your arousal and the sight of your soaked heat “Oh fuck baby look at you. . .” using both hands he spreads your legs farther causing your lips to part “Can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner”

And with that, he dives right into biting at your soft thighs causing the sweetest sound he’d ever heard to fall from your pretty lips and he knows he’s already addicted.

“Are you ready sweet baby?” You nod.

He slaps your thigh again but harder this time leaving a full outline of his long slender hand “Use your words, baby, be a good girl and answer me properly yeah?”

“Yes Johnny, yes I’m ready, please, please I’m ready” Not your most eloquent of sentences but it satisfies him to hear your smart mouth not be so smart anymore.

“Good girl. . .” That causes a shiver to run down your whole body “Aw does my baby like being told how good she is?” 

You start to nod but remember that he wants words

“Yes dear god I love it. . .” you're honestly on the verge of tears by now, he’s been so close yet so far this whole time “Good girls get rewards, so behave.” He finally leans forward and delivers a soft lick to your sensitive clit and you don’t think you’ve ever moaned so loud in your whole life, you’ve been driven shameless by him and his mouth.

His hands hold your legs open as he works over you with his mouth, tongue applying just the right amount of friction and pressure to start pushing you to climax.

His name falls from your mouth like a prayer and it does nothing but boost his ego and drive him crazy, he’s so hard and trapped by his pants but he couldn’t care less when he finally has you on his tongue after months of secret pining and he isn’t gonna throw this chance away. 

He wants to make sure you keep coming back again, and again, and maybe even agree to be his.. But you’ll have that talk later, right now your fingernails are grazing his scalp making him groan into you, sending vibrations up your core.

Waves of white-hot electricity crash over your body, thighs trembling and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

Johnny is by far the most talented man you’ve had between your legs and you're already almost about to cum, it’s so fast you’re almost embarrassed but you know that he’s doing it on purpose, proving a point to you about how you’ll now be ruined for anyone else. No one will be as good as him and you both know it.

You’re begging him to keep going but he takes it one step further by easing a slender finger into your beyond slick heat. 

“Ahhh fuck. . .” He looks up at you and the sight mixed with his tongue and fingers almost does you in right there. 

“Fuck Johnny, I’m so so close please, more please”

It’s official, he’s reduced you to nothing more than a begging, sobbing, mess.

He smirks into you while adding a third finger with the others,

“Johnnyyy” 

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow

“Can I please, please cum? I can’t hold it anymore please”

You weren’t sure why you were asking, it just seemed like something you should do.

And you were right.

“Since you asked so nicely” He picked up the pace in all the right ways that had you falling apart right there on top of the makeup table.

You tried to stay as quiet as possible but he made that very challenging, his fingers and tongue worked you through your high in the most perfect way possible, firm but not too much to make you overly sensitive, but he knew exactly what to do to make it last as long as possible.

You're a panting sweaty mess when he stands up

“Open” remembering what he said about good girls getting rewards you immediately obey, wanting to make him pleased with you.

He shoves his fingers into your mouth and you make a point to look directly into his eyes while you clean them with your mouth, leaving little to the imagination about what you'd be doing if it wasn't his fingers..

“Fuck baby..” He groans at the sight and feeling of you “Let's get out of here yeah?” He takes a half step back and wipes his hand on his jeans,

He picks up your shirt and hands it to you. You nod and slip the light fabric over your head. 

Johnny gently lifts your chin to look at him and you aren't fully prepared for the softness in his eyes “You did so good baby, such a fast learner” Warmth spreads through you at this praise and you can't help but smile. 

You gently slip off the table onto shaky legs and go to fix your shorts when Johnny does it for you, you mumble a soft thank you, still unsure of your voice and the state it's in.

Then he surprises you again by pulling you into a hug, it's comforting but firm. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and holds your head to his chest and strokes your hair with the other. You’re quick to hold him back, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the improvised aftercare.

“Wanna head back to my place?” You feel his chest softly rumble as he lets out a sweet laugh knowing the other option is the dorm “I’d love to” 

He helps you pack up your things while making pleasant small talk, knowing a more serious conversation and more fun would be had once you get home.

You could both tell this was gonna be the start of something you both would quite enjoy.

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Thank you for reading! 

Taglist - @flowerboykun @se-onghwa

[mayraki]

“You deserve love”(3)

jj x reader

not my gif! credits to the owner.

summary: after an unexpected event on a rainy night, two friends find out they have feelings for each other.

MASTERLIST

“You think this looks good?” You asked Kie after trying one of her dresses for the fancy party.

“You look hot as fuck.” She said after giving you a look and standing next to you in front of the large mirror she had in her room.

You were in Kie’s huge room, because after trying to find something to wear for this party, you came to the conclusion it was pretty useless to look in your closet. You’ve never been to a party like that, so you didn’t have much fancy clothes.

So, after calling Kie for help she accepted excited and told you to come immediately to her house. After trying like four dresses you decided to wear the one you had on. It was a tight dark red dress that ended to where your thighs started and with very thin straps.

“Don’t you think is very short?” You asked Kie when you turned to her.

“Believe me, this is nothing compared to the dresses the girls use in this parties.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror again, you had to admit, you did look pretty hot. You were not used to seeing you like this, you were always wearing shorts and big shirts. Casual was your type of style.

“Well, who knows? Maybe I’ll get a kook boyfriend and mentally manipulate him so I can get all of his money.” You shrugged and then Kie give you a little smile.

“You’re scary sometimes, you know that?” She asked and you winked at her. “Here, have this.” she reached down and grabbed a pair of black high heels.

You shook your head “Uh oh, I’m not wearing high heels.”

“If you don’t use them, they won’t let you in and bye bye free food.” She said and you sighed.

“Fine.” You sat down in Kie’s bed and started to tied the shoes. You stood up and the feeling of being more tall made you lose balance for a bit. But when you got used to it, you walked towards the mirror and gave yourself a look to the finish outfit. Your legs looked longer than ever and the tight dress somehow became more shorter. Your hair fell in your back and the slight makeup Kie did for you made your skin glow. “Ok, I’m kinda feeling myself right now.” You said giving a spin and Kie let out a little laugh.

“Guys!” Kie’s mom yelled from downstairs “We’re going to get going! Don’t be late!”

“Ok!” Kie said and rolled her eyes. “My mom thinks that going to the party many minutes before it starts is going to affect our reputation.” She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. “I hate this stupid flower crown my mom makes me wear. If the guys see me like this I will never hear the end of it.” She said and let out a little laugh.

That’s when you remember what JJ told you, that her and Pope have obviously something going on. Kie and you have been friends since you could remember, you were kind of hurt if something was going on and she didn’t told you. So you figured this was the time to ask her.

“Hey, is there something going on between you and Pope?” She quickly turned to look at you and it took her a second to think of an answer.

“Y/n, you know the rule.”

“Yeah, but sometimes rules are meant to be broken.” You said and shrugged your shoulders.

She slowly turned closer to you and give you a smirk “Y/n, is there something you want to tell me?”

“What? No! I was talking about you a and Pope. Don’t turn this about me!”

“Well, I don’t know! Your question was out of the blue. You want to tell me something? Something that has to do with a boy named JJ?” She asked and she crossed her arms around her chest.

“JJ? Wha- No!” You said and were confused about how the conversation turned to you and JJ.

“He’s been flirting a lot with you lately.” She said. “More than before. You have to be pretty stupid to not see that he has a crush on you.”

You opened your moth offended “I’m not stupid! And JJ does not have a crush on me!” She give you a smile and you took out your tongue to her like a child.

“We have to go before my mom kills us for getting there late, but this conversation isn’t over!” She walked out the room.

“I should say that since I was asking about you and Pope!” You said. Clearly Kie was avoiding the question and found the way to turn it around.

You followed Kie downstairs with a thought in your mind. Did Kie really think that JJ had a crush on me or did she just said that to escape the question? The thought of JJ having a crush on you made you feel little butterflies in your stomach.

It’s not that I like him but... wait, do I like him? Those thoughts were now in your mind and you tried to brush them off while Kie was trying to find her keys.

“Hey pretty ladies!” You heard some guys whistling at you and Kie. You were ready to say something back at them but then you noticed it was the Pogues.

You walked up to them and you noticed that they were observing you and Kie very carefully.

“What? You guys never seen a girl in a dress before?” You joked and they looked up at you with embarrassment.

You noticed that JJ didn’t look up and was still looking at your really exposed legs and your curves in that dress. You felt his gaze and your felt your nerves go up, you never had him look at you like that and you didn’t know how to act.

“What are you doing here?” Kie asked concerned about the fact that they were on Figure Eight.

“We wanted to let you fancy girls know that we’re having a party on the beach tonigh, so when you are free to leave, you know were to go.” John B said and you two nodded.

“Thank god.” Kie said. You let out a little laugh and you noticed that Kie gave Pope a little smirk.

You crossed your arms at her but she didn’t noticed. You turned to JJ who was looking at your chest, and not hiding it very well.

“Hey, blondie, my eyes are up here.” You pointed at them and JJ quickly nodded and scratched the back of his head.

“Yep, noted.”

You followed Kie to her car and drove off to the party. Once you arrived, you started to notice all the fancy people who were entering the big house, and immediately felt that you didn’t belong there.

“Food!” You said once you entered the house and Kie let out a little laugh.

The party was slow, it feel like time wasn’t moving. The music was awful so you couldn’t even dance. Kie’s parents were talking about some bussiness with some people and you noticed that Kie was as bored as you were.

“Wanna go to the backyard?” She asked and you quickly nodded.

“Whatever to get out of this.” She wrapped her arm with yours and walked to the backyard of the house, that looked like a whole park. “I think this is bigger than my own house.” You said while looking at your surroundings.

“Look who we have here.” A voice said behind you and you rolled your eyes when you recognised it.

“Rafe.” You said when you turned to him.

“You look good tonight, Kiara.” He said walking closer to you and Kie, followed by Topper and Kelce.

“Rafe, don’t you have something better to do?” Kie said annoyed.

Rafe turned to you and gave you a little smirk. “You look hot too, Y/n. Too bad you decided to be a Pogue.”

Your father’s bussiness took off a while back and you weren’t a ‘Pogue’ since you were twelve years old. That’s why he needed to take bussiness trips a lot. But you weren’t a kook either. You didn’t care to talk about it with the rest of the group. Money wasn’t something that you wanted. You wanted to hang out with your friends and your weren’t going to let money separate you.

“I didn’t ask for your comment, Rafe. Now, go away.” You said and wrapped your arm to Kie’s arm and started to walk away.

“Wow, are going to forget that fast the days that we spent together? You’re hurting me sweetheart.” He said behind you and stopped quickly.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Kie said and turned to Rafe.

“Hey, stop.” You said but Kie was fast and she was already closer to Rafe.

“Why don’t you stop bothering us and go fuck yourself.” She said and you heard him and his friends let out a big laugh.

“No need to do it myself. I have your friend to do it for me.” He said and you felt your anger grow inside.

“That’s enough!” You said but when you were about to get closer to him Kie’s father stopped you.

“What’s going on here?” He asked.

“Nothing, dad.” Kie said and walked to him “Can we go?”

“Your mother is going to kill me if I let you leave the party.”

“I’ll do the dishes when mom asks you.” She said and her father hesitated. “Please.”

“Ok. But be home before this party is over.” Kie hugged him and wrapped your arm around hers and walked out the party before Rafe could do anything else.

“I can’t believe you had a thing with that asshole.” Kie said while driving to the beach.

“I was younger and stupid.” You shrugged your shoulders and sighed.

You couldn’t believe yourself either. You were fifteen and in love. You couldn’t see his truth colors. It started as a love story but then it turned into a nightmare story. All of this happened before there wasn’t so much rivalry between the Kooks and the Pogues. The guys didn’t knew the whole story, but Kie did. The way he treated you, how he got his anger out with you. How his reputation was way more important than you. That’s when he made you chose between the Kooks and the Pogues. Of course, you could never abandoned your friends. So you chose them but that costed a broken heart. But now you were thankful that it was over and you decided that. You couldn’t be more happy.

You got out of Kie’s car once you two arrived at the beach were the party was. You noticed your friends and walked towards them.

“The life of the party is here.” You said and let your arm go around John B’s shoulders.

“Finally!” Pope said and hugged Kie.

“Beer! Beer! Beer!” JJ said while walking towards the group and he locked eyes with you. “Y/n!” He walked closer to you and handed you a beer bottle without breaking eye contact. “See, I do know that your eyes are up there.” He said and gave you a quick kiss on your forehead.

You rolled your eyes and let out a little laugh. You took of your heels and started to hold them in your hand. The beer was cold and you enjoyed the feeling of it touching your lips.

The music was loud and Kie made you go with her to the were the people were dancing. After a couple of songs with Kie, you decided to go after another beer bottle.

As you were walking with your shoes in one hand and an empty beer bottle in the other, you noticed JJ talking to a tourist very closely. She touched his shoulders and your stomach turned. You didn’t understand why you felt like that and a part of your body wanted you to be the one who was touching his shoulder. He locked eyes with you and you didn’t know what to do. So you tried to ignore your feelings and pretended to be watching an invisible watch on your wrist, and nodded. “On time” you said and he let out a little laugh.

You looked at where the beer bottles were and tried to focus on the party and not in the fact that you were feeling jealous. As you opened the beer bottle you felt an arm go around your shoulders.

“Is this JJ or Jack?” You asked once you saw JJ next to you.

“Who’s this Jack guy? Do I have to get jealous or something?” He asked and you let out a little laugh.

“Maybe.” You said and gave him a wink. He opened his mouth offended and you gently punched him in the arm. “What happened to the tourist you were talking to?” You asked once you sat down on a tiny stairs the beach had.

“Not my type.” He said and shrugged his shoulders.

“You have a type?” You asked jokingly raising your left eyebrow. JJ let out a little laugh and locked eyes with you. He wanted to say something but then he stopped. He slowly went down to your lips and you felt your stomach turned. He looked up and then to the people dancing.

You felt a pain in your hands and looked down at your shoes. You sighed and started to tied one of them in your foot.

“Isn’t that going to make it difficult to walk on the sand?” JJ said and you finished putting on shoe.

“I got tired of holding them.” You shrugged.

“I’ll hold them for you.” You looked up to him and he had a little smile on his face.

“You don’t have to. Beside, I already putted one on.”

“Let me.” He got up and kneeled down in front you.

He grabbed your foot that had the shoe on and you felt your skin rise when you felt his hands touching your lower leg. He started to untied it and you noticed he was very concentrate. His lips were tense and his hand was still gently grabbing your lower leg. His hair was messy and some of it was falling on his face. You’ve never felt more attracted to him than right now. But you didn’t want to feel like that. So once he was over, you stood up and looked down.

“It’s getting late. I probably should get going, thank you.” You grabbed your shoes and started to walk towards your house, but an arm around your shoulders stopped you.

“You didn’t think that a was going to let you go alone, did you?” He said with a smile on his face.

The walk was silent. All you could hear was the air blowing and the trees moving. You didn’t know what to say. Should you talk about surf? That was always a win with JJ. You were about to say something but JJ cut out off.

“Was the party fun?” He asked you.

“No, it was pretty lame. The only good thing was Kook food.” You said and he let out a little smile.

“You can call me next time and I’ll save you.” You let out a laugh and JJ looked at you offended. “I could!”

“Oh, baby, I know. But not before those Kooks have your head in their plates.”

“I could fight them.” He shrugged and you gave him a smile.

“Yeah, sure, five against one. Sure, blondie.”

“Stop calling me blondie!” He said and you let out a big laugh. “Or I’m going to start calling you..” he started to think and you smiled at him.

“Yeah, take your time. Blondie.” You said and started to walk faster than him.

“Y/n!” He let out a laugh and you kept walking faster to annoy him. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled making you turn around to face him. You were extremely close to his body and the air that was coming out of your nose was mixing with his.

He got even closer and looked down at your lips. Her let go of your arm and gently grabbed your waist, making you take a step closer and he touched his forehead with yours. You closed your eyes at the enjoyment of his closeness. He was about to close the space between your faces when you heard someone walking behind you.

“This is new!” A familiar voice yelled.

Rafe.

***

PART 4

[love-and-monsters]

Vampire Transformation

M monster X GN reader, 3045 words.

You’ve been experiencing some strange changes in your behavior recently. Can this strange man really make sense of it for you?

You opened your eyes and stared up at the ceiling. For the past few nights, you had been completely unable to sleep.

Nothing had worked. You’d never had any problems with insomnia before. If anything, you’d had the opposite problem; getting out of bed in the morning had been a nightmare. You’d blacked out almost the instant your head had hit the pillow and you’d stayed that way until your alarm went off in the morning.

But in the past week, you’d grown restless the instant the sun vanished from the sky. It was like the sun going down flipped a switch in your body and you were wired. Not only were you not tired, but you were borderline restless. Lying in bed was tantamount to torture- minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness and the energy buzzing inside you made it feel like your skin was crawling.

Every night, the restless feelings got worse until, driven by some odd instinct, you left the house and headed out into the night.

Luckily, you lived in a fairly large city, and in a decent part of it. People wandered the streets at all hours of the night and day, which mean that you were completely inconspicuous. Driven by some odd instinct, you just meandered through the streets, waiting until morning so you could actually collapse.

“Good hunting.” You whirled around. A man was standing uncomfortably close to you. How he’d gotten there without you noticing, you had no idea. But he was there and he fell into step next to you as if you’d invited him to do so. “Didn’t realize there were any others on this turf. You’ll want to stake your claim if you don’t want anyone encroaching.”

You stared at him. Was he in a gang? He was wearing a white button-down and black dress pants with a dark jacket slung over his shoulder, which wasn’t what you considered gang style. He was also incredibly pale, almost glowing in the dark, and quite slender. Nothing about him struck you as a gangbanger. But you couldn’t think about anything else he could be referring to.

“I think you have the wrong person,” you said as carefully as you could manage. The man lifted an eyebrow at you, clearly disbelieving. He seemed to be waiting for you to suddenly go ‘Just kidding!’ When you didn’t, and the silence stretched on, the faint smile he’d been sporting slipped from his face and he gave you a more piercing look.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” he said. His voice was softer, and there was a note in it that vacillated between amused and horrified.

“Uh. No,” you said. “Look, I think you have the wrong person. I-”

The man burst out into deep, chesty laughter, even throwing his head back. “I do not,” he said. “But I think I may be a little premature in my questioning. I’ll have to wait a little bit. Until I see you again.”

He didn’t so much vanish as he simply melted away into the night. One moment he was there, the next he’d just simply faded into the shadows and he was gone.

You blinked and swung your gaze back and forth, wondering if he would suddenly pop out of the shadows again. He didn’t return after a few minutes and the buzzing energy inside you prompted you to keep moving. You trotted along the streets.

The instant the sky started to lighten, the switch inside you that had been driving you to move an be outside flipped back the other way. You’d already wandered back to the area your apartment was in, but you still had to practically drag yourself up the stairs and into your bed. The instant your head struck the pillow, you were out.

You were out for nearly two hours before you managed to claw your way back to wakefulness. You only just managed to write out an email to your professor, telling her you weren’t going to be in class that day, before sleep sucked you back down.

You knew it was night when you woke up because your mind was sharp, no longer fogged with sleep. Not only were you focused, but you were hungry. Not a normal hunger, but something that was sharp and painful. It felt like there were shards of glass inside you cutting your stomach to shreds. It was the worst hunger pangs you’d ever experienced.

For a few minutes, you fumbled through your refrigerator, but there was nothing inside that appealed to you. You tried a few bites of your usual favorites, even digging up the pint of ice cream you’d been saving from your freezer. None of it was appealing. Your stomach, ravaged by hunger as it was, turned when you tried to eat a carrot.

The energy of the night was burning through you again and you staggered outside. The urgent need to move, to patrol, blazed in you almost stronger than your hunger.Something was wrong with your head. It was getting harder and harder to focus. It felt like the moments before you fell asleep- your consciousness blinking in and out. You weren’t going unconscious, but it was like your higher thinking was just fading away for a moment, so you were only a bundle of instincts.

You were so hungry. You were starving. Drool welled in your mouth. Food. Eat.

Something delicious wafted near you on the air. It was rich and savory and wonderful. Your conscious mind flickered for one moment, then blinked out. Instinct ruled your mind. You half vanished into the shadows of an alleyway and crouched.

The scent passed by you and you lunged. Your hands landed around his throat and closed with almost crushing strength. He couldn’t make a sound as you pulled him back, slammed him to the ground and plunged your teeth into him.

Thick, coppery liquid welled in your mouth. It was delicious, like biting into the best steak you’d ever had. It filled and soothed the awful pain in your stomach. Little whimpers welled in your throat as you drank and drank.

“I did think I’d find you here.” Someone tapped your shoulder with a foot. “Come on, let him go. You’ve terrified the poor man.”

You released him, spinning to snarl at the intruder. Some distant part of your mind recognized him as the person who had spoken to you the night before. The rest of you recognized him as an enemy. You bared your teeth and a terrible snarl rippled out through your chest.

The man chuckled. “Ooh, scary. Come on, get up.” He tapped you again with the toe of his shoe. You twisted back to look at the enemy and your prey scrambled out from underneath you. “Sorry about her. She’s a newbie, you know. Always hard training the new recruits, you know?”

The man made a motion to bolt out of the alley, managed to get to his feet, then swayed and collapsed. “Blood loss. Poor guy. He’ll be fine, probably. As for you…” The man rounded on you. You gave another deep snarl, making it as threatening as you could. “Look, you’re not as threatening as you’re trying to be by half. Chill.”

He crouched in front of you. His eyes roved over you for a moment. “You’re only about halfway through this, and it’ll get worse before it gets better. Calm down.”

There was a sensation like your mind was being turned inside out and you were suddenly very aware that you were crouched in an alleyway, human blood dribbling down your chin, the collapsed body of a human you’d tried to eat lying behind you.

“Oh my god.” Your voice was high and thin, almost on the edge of breaking. “Oh my god. What the fuck is happening to me?”

“There you go!” The man clapped a hand on your shoulder. “You’re back. Now let’s get the hell out of here. That guy’s gonna wake up and we’re not going to want to be around when he does.”

You were in such a state of shock that you simply allowed him to pull you to your feet and tug you down the street. Blood was still sticky on your chin, but the way he swept his arms around you and held a hand up close to your mouth made it look like he was trying to protect a bleeding cut. It at least seemed to quell any suspicions.

The man hauled you off to a small apartment tucked into a little alcove. It was shabby on the inside, full of the musty smell of dust and with moth-eaten furniture. The man seated you on a couch and fetched a damp cloth. “Wipe your face off. When you eat in the future, don’t dribble it all over your chin. It’s wasteful and really gross.”

You mopped at your face, wiping away the sticky trails of blood. You couldn’t stop shaking. “What is happening to me?”

The man grinned, revealing long, slightly curved fangs that nearly touched his lower lip. “You’ve becoming a vampire. Didn’t you guess that already?”

“I can’t be,” you said flatly. “I’ve never been attacked.”

“Misconception.” The man turned and started to rummage in his small refrigerator. “I mean, not a total misconception. It’s kind of right. Most humans that are turned are bitten. Just not all of them.” He emerged from the refrigerator holding a bottle, the sort people used at the gym for carrying protein shakes. It was full of a thick, pinkish liquid. He thrust it at you.

“What is that?” you asked. You took it cautiously and sniffed at it. It smelled sweet. “Is it blood?”

The man rolled his eyes. “No. It’s a smoothie.” You gave him a skeptical look. Was that sarcasm or something? “I’m not kidding. Just drink.”

You took a sip. It was incredibly thick and berry flavored, though you couldn’t make out any individual fruits. Something about the sugar cleared the remaining clouds in your head. “Vampires drink smoothies?”

The man gave a short, sharp bark of laughter. “No. Not exactly. You’re not really a vampire yet. I don’t know why, but fruit smoothies can soothe the edge of the bloodlust for a little bit. Something about the sugar content or something, I don’t know. Milkshakes are pretty good too.”

“I’m not a vampire? But you just said I was,” you said uncertainly. The man shrugged.

“I said you were turning into a vampire, not that you’re one right now. Name’s Marcus, by the way. I, if you haven’t already guessed, am a full vampire.”

You took another slurp of your smoothie. “But I didn’t get bit by anyone?”

“No. See, vampires don’t just reproduce by biting. We can also reproduce. And sometimes, we reproduce with humans. Usually, it’s not a big deal. Have a little half vampire, usually they grow into a big full vampire and join their parent as a creature of the night. But sometimes, little half vampire looses their vampire traits when they get older. Instead of going with their vampire parent, they grow up as a human. Probably marry a human and have a bunch of little human kids. And then those little human kids grow up and have more human kids, so on and so forth. But the vampire DNA keeps getting passed on and sometimes, if there’s enough of a push, the vampire traits can emerge.”

You pulled the pieces together. “I have a vampire in my family tree?”

“More than one, probably. It’s more common to have that side emerge if there’s a push from both sides of the family. It’s a genetic hiccup, or a throwback. For whatever reason, you have enough vampire in you for that bit to assert itself. By the end of the week, you’ll be a full vampire.”

You stared at him, swallowing hard. “In a week.”

“Yes. Roughly.” Marcus sat forward a little in his seat and gave you a smile. It was clearly intended to be friendly, but the enormous canines just didn’t allow it. “And I am going to help you.”

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but within two days, you were patrolling the city with Marcus. The smoothies were no longer taking the edge off your bloodlust and Marcus, after teaching you as much vampire lore as you could stand, decided that practical learning was also important.

“This is my territory,” he said, trotting down a street. “It covers five city blocks, which isn’t the biggest territory, but there’s a lot of competition in the city. But at least it has enough humans in it.”

You looked around. Marcus had kept insisting that all vampires could sense where their territory ended and another’s began, but you couldn’t sense anything. All you were really aware of was that everyone who passed you smelled really good and the electric lights were piercingly bright.

“All right?” Marcus asked. You squinted up at him. The streetlight behind him haloed his strong facial features in a shimmering light.

“It’s bright,” you complained.

“The lights? Your eyes will get a little more used to it when the changing settles down. For now, I have a pair of sunglasses somewhere.” He patted the pockets of his long coat. It swooshed around him when he moved and looked appropriately vampire-esque.

Your gums itched and prickled and mild aches suffused your body. You slumped against a wall, grimacing. There was an unsettling feeling in the pit of yours stomach, and you were pretty sure that wasn’t just nerves. Something in you was changing.

“Here you go!” Marcus slid the glasses onto your face, somehow managing not to poke you in the eye. You readjusted them carefully. They were easy to see through, even at night. “Are you okay?”

You realized that, over the last few minutes, you had been leaning more and more heavily on the wall for support. Your knees felt a little like jelly. “Um. I don’t feel very well.” Your gums were pulsing and waves of alternating hot and cold flooded your body.

Marcus took hold of your shoulder and gently pushed you into an alleyway. “Sit here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

He bolted off and you placed your head between your knees. Things seemed to be squirming under your skin. You were flushed, but chills worked their way over your body. It felt like you’d come over with a sudden and terrible bout of the flu.

Something thumped to the ground in front of you. A delicious smell wafted up to you and the pulsing in your gums sharpened to a painful throbbing.

“Drink,” Marcus said. One of his hands slid down your back and he lifted the body he’d dropped in front of you to your mouth. You lunged forward, biting into the soft flesh and gulping the blood that spilled forth.

You were much neater this time, gulping down almost every drop. After only a few delicious mouthfuls, Marcus detached you. “You’re shivering,” he said. You were, and the squirming of your innards was only getting worse.

Marcus leaned you back against the wall. “Hey, I was slightly off in my timing,” he said. His voice was pitched oddly, like he was trying to be soothing, but he was barely suppressing panic himself. “You’re making the full shift to vampire now.”

Your eyes popped open and you stared wildly at him. “What?”

Marcus ignored your obvious panic and hauled you up into his arms. Carefully, he swung you around and onto his back. “Hold on tight,” he said.

It was not easy to hold onto the back of a vampire going at full speed. Motion sickness made your head spin and you squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into the back of his neck. His smell was stronger than you’d ever smelled it before, sort of earthy and pleasant. You found yourself breathing deeply.

With a jerk, Marcus dug his feet into the ground and came to a stop. You clung to him, startled, until his hands worked your fingers loose from around his neck.

You in the middle of a sparsely forested area. Still in the city, from what you could hear. A park, then. Marcus offered you his coat and you slipped it on. “Wanted to get you away from people, somewhere relatively quiet. You’ll be disoriented for a moment when you wake up. It’s better to be somewhere like this.”

“Wake up?” Your voice was slurred.

“You’re going to pass out. But it’ll be all right. I’ll be right here.”

You felt like you were falling asleep rapidly. A tingling numbness crept up through your legs, then your arms, crawling toward your neck. Your eyes opened once, to see Marcus smiling gently down at you. Then they fell shut and you fell into darkness.

The first thing you were aware of was the smell. It invaded your senses, permeated your brain. There were unpleasant scents far away, some appealing ones that made your mouth water, and, close by, the earthy smell of dirt and wood and, closest of all, a pleasant, slightly earthy, slightly spiced scent.

You opened your eyes. It was bright. Really bright, almost daytime bright. But you could see, beyond the trees, that the moon was still out. You ran your tongue along your teeth. Your canines were extended and they itched a little.

“Feeling okay?” You turned your head. Marcus was leaning over you, a slight grin on his face. The moonlight seemed to make his skin glow and there was something mesmerizing in his eyes. “Woah,” you said. Marcus grinned.

“I could say something similar,” he said. “Hungry?”

Your stomach twisted and you nodded. “Starving.” Marcus tugged you to your feet.

As he led you out of the park, you became more aware of the territory boundaries. You could sense them, somehow, like glowing lines along the ground. It made you a little unsettled.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” you asked. Marcus grinned, canines glinting.

“No. I like you too much for that,” he said. “Now, let’s go. We’ve got some hunting to do.”

Together, you ran off into the night.

[asthmark]

❝ let’s dance ❞ s.jh

synopsis → “i’m gonna marry you.”

request → “How about Johnny fluff partying time and the concept theme is the 80s” — @heart-bleeding-autism-angel​

word count → 2.5k

a/n → the amount of googling i did for this is scary .. and i still know literally nothing abt the 80’s LOL anyway the title is my fav david bowie song that happened to be released in ‘83 and it kind of fits the the fic so,,, cool :-)

the moonlight shines through your window, casting it’s heavenly glow on your face. despite the late hour, it illuminates your entire room enough that you can read the time off the clock hanging on your wall.

11:55 p.m.

if they decide to be on time, your friends should be arriving in five minutes.

you retreat from your windowsill to prepare yourself. you stop in front of your closet, staring at the array of clothing. it takes you a couple moments to pick something you liked. you, of course, wanted to impress johnny, the self proclaimed fashion evaluator, but there was no better feeling than knowing you looked good.

you settle on a cozy turtleneck and your favorite mini skirt. then you pull on a pair of tube socks and slip on your prized white sneakers. for the final touch, you slide on a thin buckle belt through the loops of your skirt to tie it all together.

you smile satisfactorily at your reflection in the mirror and what was sure to be your best outfit yet. besides being well-put together, it felt comfortable enough to move around in and you knew you would surely be doing much moving that night.

once the clock strikes midnight, you notice  light flash into your room. since it’s brighter than that of the moon, you know exactly who must be behind it. even if you didn’t, the hushed chatter and giggling from outside your window gives it away. you peer down into your backyard to find sicheng and jaehyun standing there, flashlights in hand and aimed directly into your bedroom.

you hastily wave your hands at them, your face twisted with worry. they wave back at you with goofy smiles on their faces, oblivious to your concern.

“cut the lights!” you hiss as silently as you can.

they finally seem to get the hint and click them off. jaehyun shouts back, “sorry!” accompanied by a laugh sicheng has failed to contain. you wince at their volume. there was no keeping them quiet so you decide your only option is to move as fast as you possibly can.

you carefully push one leg out of your window. it dangles above the roof of the front porch and you slowly lower it onto the tile. once you’ve successfully planted half of yourself on the roof, you bring your other leg down. this action is followed by a slight creek but you don’t even bother hesitating. you crouch down to the edge of the house and repeat the previous steps, this time landing on the front steps of your porch.

“that was smooth!” jaehyun exclaims in awe.

you bring a finger to your lips but still can’t help but smile at the praise.

“you’re like a ninja,” adds sicheng. “or a cat.” he pauses, deep in thought, before concluding, “you’re a ninja cat.”

you raise a brow. “you’ve both been drinking, haven't you?”

“no.”

“yes.”

“i’m gonna have to believe jae on this one,” you say, observing the way sicheng’s eyelids droop and he slurs his words. “you couldn’t have waited ‘til we got to the club?”

he whines like a child. “i was thirsty!”

you clamp your hand over his mouth and scold him. “why do you feel the need to be so loud? do you want me to get caught?”

jaehyun hiccups. “aren’t you glad i’m an introvert? i’ll never get you in trouble.”

you laugh dryly. “sure, you’re all introverted until you find some random chick to grind on.”

he pouts. “let me have fun.”

“it’s fun until you spill your drink on her and i have to help clean—oh come on, sicheng, did you just lick me?” you remove your hand from his mouth only to find a big smile on his lips.

“perhaps.”

“god, let’s just go. where’s johnny parked?”  

“end of the street.”

you go in said direction with your two friends trailing behind you, messing around all the while. the three of you only stop when you catch sight of johnny’s shiny black convertible. you approach the vehicle and when he notices you, he smiles and shoots you a wink.

“you’re such a flirt,” you comment, opening the door to the passenger's seat.  

he shrugs. “but you still fell in love with me so i’d say it’s worked out pretty well up until this point.”

you’re about to respond when jaehyun interrupts. “hey, i wanted to ride shotgun!”

“me too!” agrees sicheng. “y/n always gets it!”

johnny glares at the pair through the rear view mirror. “and that’s how i like it so get in the backseat or you’re walking.”

they mumble what you assume are complaints yet still get in the car.

johnny revs up the engine but before you go anywhere he makes an announcement. “and if either of you are going to vomit again, all i ask is that you don’t do it in here. my dad just bought me this bad boy.”

a chuckle escapes your lips.

“what are you laughing about over there?”

you lean back against the headrest, smile still present. “we literally have two kids.”

“basically. but hey, there’s no one else i’d rather babysit two grown men with than you.”

“stop, i’m blushing,” you deadpan.

johnny’s shoulders shake with laughter at your sarcasm. “seriously, though! you really know how to take care of someone. one day, if i’m lucky enough, i’ll be able to see that up close.”

you know exactly what he means by that last statement—he was thinking of a future with you. the last thing you want to do is burst his bubble but you knew how your parents felt about your relationship. they thought you could do better than ‘some football player from your school’. they had friends with young, stuck up sons who, according to them, were more fit for you. despite being told countless times how happy johnny made you, they paid you no mind.

you nod, sincerely. “i hope so.”

he places his hand on your thigh, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin. you stay like that for the entire drive.

once you finally reach your destination, you leave all doubt and anxiety surrounding your relationship with johnny in the car along with any other negativity. the flashing lights and loud music you could hear even from outside the club excites you and you’re left with no choice but to discard all of your worries. you never got tired of seeing the glowing, neon sign letting you know that you had arrived at the hottest hang out spot there was—the neo zone.

as soon as you step inside, sicheng’s face contorts in displeasure. “i’m, uh, going to the bathroom.” he carelessly pushes past strangers, clutching his stomach.

you notice jaehyun has disappeared as well. before you can ask, you spot him on the dance floor, inserting himself in some line dance he obviously isn’t familiar with. his limbs move awkwardly and completely out of sync with the rest of the group. he recieves multiple strange looks and you can’t help but cringe.

“where did we go wrong with them?”

johnny’s laugh can hardly be heard over the booming bass of a song. “couldn’t tell you that, sugar. let’s just hope the next ones come out better.”

there he goes again, talking about your oh-so-promising future. you were still unsure if you would be able to grant johnny the picture perfect life he constantly spoke about. whenever he referenced it, you felt slightly guilty.

instead of acknowledging his comment, you glance around, looking anywhere but him. “want to get a drink?”

he simply nods, placing his hand in the small of your back as you weave your way through the crowd to the bar.

he leans on the counter and orders, “one long island iced tea, please.”

“you know my order?” you ask, pleasantly surprised.

“sweetheart, you get it everytime we come here. and that’s often.”

you still beam at him. “it’s still nice. you know, that you notice those things.”

“everything about you is worth noticing. besides, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t?”

you press a quick kiss to his cheek to show him how grateful you are.

“you really have to work on your aim because you completely missed your target that time.” he teasingly taps his lips.

you roll your eyes with a giggle. “never satisfied, are you, suh?”

“you owe me, just sayin’.”

“oh yeah?”

“totally! i let you sit shotgun!”

“i was the only thing standing in the way of sicheng throwing up all over your dashboard, you should be thanking me!”

johnny presses a kiss to your lips. it’s so unexpected yet enjoyable that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering shut in bliss. he only pulls away to take a breath of air.

he licks his lips. “how was that?”

you brush imaginary dust off your skirt. “probably the best ‘thank you’ i’ve ever received.”

“says you. i can't get enough of those lips of yours.”

you fiddle with your belt. “nobody's stopping you from getting your fill.”

“you’re going to be the death of me, young lady.”

seconds later, the bartender slides you your drink. “here’s your drink, young lady.” he gives johnny a knowing smile and not-so-subtle thumbs up. “what a pretty little thing you got there.”

you know his words aren’t meant for your ears so you avert your eyes and take small sips of your drink.

“thank you, sir. i couldn’t agree more.”

“you know, me and my wife met in this club. just like you two.”

“we’ve actually known each other for a couple years.”

the man’s eyes widen in surprise. “well, look at you. already ahead of the game. you love her?”

johnny doesn’t hesitate to nod. “very much. the only issue is her folks don’t seem to be too crazy about me. they have a long list of suitors, myself excluded.”

you frown and trace the rim of your glass. that never got any easier for you to hear.  

the man nods, understandingly. “i see. well, in that case, you might have to wait. you said you love her and until you get to be together—which you will—keep loving her. that’ll make the time you spend waiting go by like this.” he snaps his fingers to prove his point.

johnny nods, a genuine smile appearing on his face. “i appreciate the advice. thank you.”

the bartender gives him a curt nod and goes back to tending to the other demanding customers.

before johnny gets a chance to say anything, you ask, “do you wanna dance with me?”

his grin widens. “always.”

you take his hand in yours and lead him to the dance floor. it’s full, as always, multiple bodies pressed up against each other. you waste no time joining in.

your hands end up on his broad shoulders, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck and his grip ends up on your hips. the songs played at club neo zone always had a strong bass and energetic vibe so you both match that rhythm, moving to the intense heartbeat of the music. you gaze up at johnny, admiring his good looks even under the glow of the disco lights that colored him shades of bright pink, blue and green.

“what are you looking at, pretty girl?”

“just your face. i like it.”

he hums. “mm, i’m glad. i do too.”

“like my face?”

“no, mine.”

you shove his shoulder, playfully.

he chuckles. “you know i’m joking. you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

you suddenly find your shoes to be very interesting and stare down at them, smiling sheepishly.

“c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now.”

you giggle. “quit it.”

he glides his hands up and down your sides. “i’m serious, darling. it must’ve taken all my luck to get you.”

“i could say the same thing. there’s no one i’d rather be with than you, john.”

his dimples appear at the compliment and he goes in for a bear-like hug. he cradles your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head as both you sway.

“i’m gonna marry you.”

you’re not sure what about this statement catches you most off guard. maybe it’s the way that there’s no teasing tone in his voice or perhaps the fact that he has decided to say this in the middle of the dance floor, of all places.

you catch your lower lip in between your teeth. “i’m sorry we have to wait.”

“i’ll wait forever, babygirl, if that’s what it takes. and so what if your parents don’t want that. if one day you’ll let me wake up next to you and have a family with you, i’ll be happy.”

you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach at his sweet words. “i can't wait.”

with the hope of a future together, you and johnny happily dance the rest of the night away. once the party dies down and the crowd shrinks with every song that passes, your bodies are left sweaty and tired. you agree it’s time to go home.

you spot jaehyun in the back of the club and it takes a lot of effort to drag him off his latest girl interest. he blows her kisses as you yank him away, promising her a phone call in the morning. you’re pretty sure he’s lying.

sicheng is found passed out in the restroom, snoring heavily.

“has he been here this whole time?” you ask with a grunt as you attempt to hoist him up.

johnny shrugs as he helps you lift. “i find it's better to not ask questions.”

you nod in agreement. “fair.”

the car ride is silent mostly thanks to sicheng being knocked out. jaehyun sits quietly as well, staring out the window. johnny decides to drop them off first. you stop in front of the jung residence. as you watch the brunette struggle to open the door with one hand and hold sicheng’s unconscious figure in the other, you can’t help but wonder, “is it really a good idea to leave him with jae? i mean, that’s like telling a toddler to look after an infant.”

“if i left him at his house i’m pretty sure his old man would ground him for the rest of his life. jae’s folks are always out of town.”

with that reassurance, you drive off, your next destination being your house. johnny parks exactly where he did at the beginning of the night, just to be safe.

he rests his hands on the steering wheel. “want me to walk you?”

you shake your head. “that’s alright. if i get caught, i’d rather it not be with you. i’d never hear the end of it.”

“yeah, i get it. one day, though, we won’t have to worry about it.” as if to promise you his words are true, he hands you his letterman jacket. it was his prized possession and he was never seen without it. “here, take this. wear it when i can't be with you.”

you nod, clutching the clothing item close to your chest. “i will.”

he leans over as far as his seatbelt allows him to give you the last kiss of the night. it ends too fast for the both of you. you exit his car and walk down the sidewalk towards your house.

johnny watches you through his rear view mirror and smiles to himself when he catches you pull on his jacket.

[bellatrixxue]

Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67​ @amazingiam00​ @kalliravenne​ @indecisive20something​ @2musiclover2​ @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock​ @wingedcatninja​ @arvit​

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is  a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Forever Is A Long, Long Time

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Verse: An Unlikely Suspect (Among Us AU)

TWs: Makeout mention, implied sexual activities, they’re really soft honestly..

Summary: Patton and Logan have been dating for a couple years now, but with only a month til their next voyage on the Skeld, and Logan working overtime to be the best Captain the crew could ask for, they rarely get some alone time. Luckily, Patton has the perfect idea...

(Recommended music: I Wouldn’t Mind by He Is We)

–

One Month before the Skeld Departs: 

Patton excitedly made his way along the corridors of MIRA HQ to reach the cafeteria; he’d been stuck in the greenhouse all morning and early afternoon tending to the needs of the plants and their development cycles, but finally he could spend time with his boyfriend. Logan had been working so tirelessly, Patton couldn’t help but admire his passion and drive. 

After all, the Skeld’s next captain needed to be someone the crew could feel safest with after all. Not that Patton ever believed his boyfriend was incapable, if anything, he believed Logan was already more than qualified for the job. The crew echoed the sentiment as well. But Logan seemed determined to keep working himself into the ground at this rate.

Patton had decided to fix that.

In his backpack rested lunch for the two of them, made ahead of time to spare them the long wait in line, the cyan-clad crewmate merrily continuing his trek to the cafeteria until he could see that familiar silhouette approaching the intersection of the threeway corridor.

“Logan!”, Patton beamed cheerfully, his radiance only matched as Logan turned toward the voice of his beloved. Once they were within touching distance, Logan was more than welcome for the embrace Patton offered.

“Greetings Patton,”, he chuckled, clearly already exhausted, “I apologise for not dropping by sooner-”

“Don’t you go over-working that noggin of yours any more, Logan! You’ve been working hard, so I wanted to surprise you with a homemade lunch!”, he opened his backpack and pulled out the lunchbox he’d prepared when Logan stopped him gently. His hand softly caressed Patton’s, “That sounds wonderful Patton, but I would sooner enjoy it… well… with just the two of us?”, he gestured to the rather full canteen with a quick nod of his head.

Pat noted the red tint cradling Logan’s cheeks, standing out against the collar of his dark blue uniform. Equally flustered by the thought of spending some one on one time with his boyfriend, Patton agreed, “Of-! Of course!! Where um, would you like to-”

“We may do so in my cabin-”, Logan offered, making sure to clarify, “Simply for convenience! I mean, we have work we must be on call for-”

Oh my god, how could someone so tall and handsome look so adorably flustered in an instant? 

Patton giggled, “It’s fine, Logan, lead the way!”

The trip through the halls brimmed with mirth and starlight; Patton’s puns - while Logan maintained they were still awful - never ceased to wrench a fond sigh and a smile from his boyfriend. Once they were comfy in Logan’s cabin, Patton carefully opened up the lunch box to present an array of home cooked goodies; a tub of pasta each, and some mini berry tarts made specially with Crofters Jam. The latter made Logan’s eyes glisten in a way Patton hadn’t seen since their last trip to Earth.

“Starlight,”, Patton nearly melted at the love in Logan’s tone, “Where did you get this? We haven’t been authorised for any recent excursions back to Earth...”

Patton grinned cheekily, “I miiiight have specially asked Remy to get his buddies at the Earth station to beam over some~!”

Logan gasped, “Patton! You know full well-”

“I know, “all snacks and supplies must be given a month in advance to be checked over”, but I always follow protocol every other time I’m manning the loading bay! One little stowaway isn’t gonna get me in trouble. Besides, I wanted to make this really special before your debut as our new Captain!”

A tenseness found its way up Logan’s spine, going easily noticed by Patton. His smile softened into a gentle concern, “....You’re ready, Sunshine. I know it.” An easiness settled on Logan’s shoulders at the nickname, prompting Patton to continue, “It’s scary being in charge, I really, really don’t blame you for being anxious about it, but if anyone can keep us safe, it’s you, Logan.”

Gracefully, Patton softly picked up a blackcurrant tart, softly holding it for Logan to take a bite, earning a flush of rosy pink across the taller man’s cheeks.

“Heck, I trust you with my life, now and forever, Sunshine.”

Logan gave a small huff, but his smile was unwavering as he took a bite of the tart. The delicious homemade filling was nearly as sweet and filling as the love and support Patton offered so readily.

“Forever is a long, long time, Starlight. But I agree.”, he licked his lips, “Your baking never ceases to amaze me, it’s delicious.”

“Well then, I suppose I should try it-”

“Absolutely.”

Without missing a beat, Logan softly set the treat aside and brought Patton in for a kiss. Soft and slow though that changed with a gentle licking of Patton’s lower lip. All of a sudden, the cyan crewmate could taste the berry flavour lingering on Logan’s tongue, letting himself be pulled into Logan’s lap. Their kisses always ended up this way; deep, romantic, full of longing, a scream of “I love you” in every second that melted away. 

Patton let out a small gasp as Logan broke their kiss to trail his lips down Patton’s neck, “Logaaaan… I thought you said-”

“Change of plan.”, he murmured against Patton’s neck, “Turns out I would rather die than be without you for too long.”

He joked, softly meeting Patton’s flushed gaze, “Besides, I am the Captain now, I believe I am allowed to bend the rules a little…”

Patton had no intention of arguing. It wasn’t how he’d planned their time together to go, but hey, the ring in his pocket would just have to wait a little while longer….

----

Part 1 of the An Unlikely Suspect pairing snippets!!

~

It’s so fluffy I almost forgot this canonically happens a month before the events of An Unlikely Suspect and OOF is that a punch to the gut. .... did I still add in a bunch of details that will make you all want to pry off my kneecaps with a spoon? Absolutely.

Here’s the original fic for those who haven’t read it yet! (do heed the tags! and there is a sequel in the works!)

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom @patton-cake @does-this-look-logicality-to-you @justalittlecorrupted @irritating-lady-knight @katlikethesword

[tangledstarlight]

work in progress wednesday 

hello hi! okay so i’m working on a few different things right now because i have no self control but i’d thought i’d show you the rough outline i have worked out for my reincarnation au since i just gotta super excited about the idea of it again. and also part of this juke fake dating au i have because i feel like if i post it somewhere it might make me actually finish it

reincarnation au

i work in a really annoying way in which i have to physically write stuff out first, so i’ve basically got all this on flashcards with extra information/plot details about each decade/century. and also a flashcard for each of the main characters, colour coded, with things that stay the same in each life, and points that tie them all together (i’m literally so close to ordering red string and creating a crime scene murder board for organisation hfj). 

i’m sticking with the greek gods vibe, mostly because i love a bit of greek mythology, which means rose is Hestia because the home, hearth & family vibes are strong in the molina household if you ask me. i havent settled on a god for caleb yet but i’m leaning towards one who deals with chaos? it’s still a little up in the air.

i’m still trying to figure out what’s going to happen between 300bc and the 1300′s because there’s gotta be at least one life in there somewhere yknow?

i have to say i’m most excited about writing the willie interlude chapter and boys as cowboys, they just feel like they’re gonna be fun. 

juke fake dating au

i really like what i have, and i love a fake dating au but i just...idk the motivation to actually finish it seems to have vanished and that makes me sad

“So. I’ve got a... proposition for you. Or a request I guess. A deal? An idea of mutual beneficial rewards?” Julie frowned, head tilted to the side as she thought about it. During all her rehearsing of this moment she had completely forgotten to think about how to actually approach the topic. 

Now she was just sounding crazy if the raised eyebrows Luke was shooting her way were any indication. 

“I’m listening. Unless you’re about to ask me to help you commit some kind of crime, then we might have to do this somewhere a little less,” he twirled a finger in the air and leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice to a whisper “public. Don’t wanna get caught.” 

He said it all with such an easy smile, calming her racing nerves without even realising that’s what he was doing. Or maybe he did know. Everyone always joked about how Luke was constantly wrapped up in his music, he didn’t notice much going on around him, but he could be surprisingly in tune with his friends' emotions when he wanted to be. Which is part of the reason why Julie was doing this, she reminded herself. There was a reason it was Luke she was asking. 

“I think we should fake date.”

The words hung in the air between them. And, now they were out in the open, Julie realised just how mad the whole idea sounded. The sight of Luke’s smile freezing, eyebrows rising higher as his eyes grew wider (a look that, under other circumstances would have made her laugh) had Julie rushing to get out her explanation before he could completely say no. She had put a lot of thought into this! 

“No, no, listen! I know it sounds weird and silly and completely crazy. But it makes sense! Dad and Carlos have been worrying and Tia is convinced I’ve sworn off relationships because I’m scared of getting hurt because of mom and what happened with Nick and Flynn is constantly trying to set me up on dates. Even though I’ve told them all I’m perfectly fine! There’s nothing wrong with being single and alone, and it’s not even like I’m alone-alone. I have friends. I’m not some kind of crazy recluse.” Julie felt herself spiralling into a rant and had to take a deep breath to pull herself back. Luke still hadn’t moved since she’d started speaking, though she could swear his lips twitched in an almost smile. 

“And! You’re always saying how your mom drives you mad about how you’ve never brought someone home to meet them. And Alex and Reggie are always teasing you about not being able to keep a date because you’re always scaring people away with your crazy intense music obsession and how you’re going to be forever alone surrounded by guitars instead of cats.” Reggie had gone into scary details about how he thought Luke’s life was going to play out, it was both terrifying and hilarious. 

“If we pretend to date for a few weeks it will get them all off our backs, we wouldn’t even have to change all that much about what we do now. Maybe just, dinner or something, hold hands. You already spend all your time here anyway. And then in a month or something we can have an amicable break up. Everyone wins.” She ended her speech a little out of breath, having rushed through all her thoughts. Luke is still looking at her, his eyes still wide and his smile frozen in place. But he was still sitting at the counter, which Julie was going to take as a good sign. 

“So? What do you think?” She chewed on her lip, casting her eyes down and trying - and failing - to not fidget with her fingers. Luke still hadn’t responded, hadn’t moved. Oh god, he thought it was a terrible plan didn’t he? 

Now he was never going to want to hang out with her again, he’d avoid coming to the cafe and stop inviting her to their gigs and she’d be down to only Flynn as a friend and she really would be a recluse. 

Was there a limit on how many cats you could adopt at once? She didn’t think her apartment building even allowed cats. Great, now she was going to have to move as well!

“Hey,” Luke’s voice was gentle as it pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts, and he must have been trying to get her attention for a while, she thinks, because one of his hands is reaching out to settle on top of hers that had started tapping insistently on the counter top. Julie hadn’t even realised she was doing that. 

“You put a lot of thought into this whole, fake dating thing, huh?” He says the words ‘fake dating’ carefully, slowly, like he’s worried about something. But Julie doesn’t know what. She nods her head though, blowing out a breath and raising her eyes again until they land on Luke’s own. 

“Even made a powerpoint. There were pictures and graphs.” 

Luke laughed at that and Julie felt all the sudden tension leave her shoulders. She’s reminded, again, that this is Luke and there is a reason why she’s asking him to part-take in her crazy plan. 

“I mean-” He pauses, tilting his head a little to the side, his eyes unfocused as he seems to think something over. Julie waits, forces her hand, that is still underneath his, to be still lest she seem impatient for his answer. Which she is, but Luke doesn’t need to know that. It feels like an eternity has passed before he’s blinking, eyes focusing on hers and a wide grin breaking across his face. Julie can’t help but smile back reflectively. 

“I guess it wouldn’t really change all that much about our lives, huh? We’d just get to hang out more. And it would be nice for my parents and the guys to get off my back about never going out on dates.”

It takes Juile a moment to realise what exactly Luke is saying. 

“Wait, you mean you’ll do it?” She had hoped he would agree, but actually hearing him say it is a whole other thing. 

“Yeah, of course I’ll do it. And hey, it could be kinda fun!” There’s an infectious excitement in Luke’s voice and Julie grins, impulsively turns her hand over on the counter top so she can link their fingers together and squeeze his hand.

[samsexualdeancurious]

His Own Hands | Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1,682

Summary: Bucky is settling in well with the Avengers but he keeps having nightmares - flashes of repressed memories of a girl being tortured by his hands and then vanishing into a swirling black portal. He's not sure who she is until Fury introduces them to their newest potential team member, a girl Bucky recognizes on sight and Fury calls "Portal".

Warnings: Hurt!Reader, Lack of Communication, torture, trauma, PTSD

Written for Nanowrimo 2020

Betaed by Saxxxology and Amory

Cover art edited by me

---

2006

“Just ask him out already,” Irene says, dark curls bouncing as she checks all her mirrors and looks over her shoulder.

You shake your head, annoyed but smiling a little at your friend’s insistence. “Not gonna happen.”

She rolls her eyes, throwing the car into reverse. “There’s no one behind me, right?”

You do your own check, smiling at your best friend’s cautiousness. She almost backed into her brother a few weeks ago and now she’s a little paranoid. “Nope, you’re good.”

“Awesome.” She backs carefully out of the driveway and onto the street. “I hope the traffic isn’t too bad. I’m starving.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m serious, though. You need to stop beating around the bush and ask Quinn out. You know he’s never gonna do it himself.”

Your cheeks heat up at the reminder of Quinn’s obliviousness. “Shut up. He’s never gonna do it ‘cause he doesn’t feel that way.”

“Girl, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That boy is in love.” A red light brings the car to a halt.

“Shut up,” you mumble, watching the “walk” sign begin counting down.

“Just calling things as I see them. You two have been dancing around each other for years. It’s about time you sorted yourselves out, got your heads out of your asses, and, ya know-”

The light turns green and the car moves forward. You fix your attention out the window instead of looking to where your best friend is definitely gesturing wildly with one hand, as is her style, and years later you’ll thank god you did because otherwise? You wouldn’t have seen the truck.

“Irene!” you shout as the world turns into the screech of tires on asphalt, the crunch of metal on metal, a blur of pain and screams and a moment of darkness and then suddenly you’re sitting on the sidewalk with Irene by your side, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“What the fuck?” she gasps, turning to you with wide eyes. “What just happened?”

You open your mouth but you can’t seem to find any words, especially after you look around. You see people staring, whispering, and then your eyes land on Irene’s car where it sits about twenty feet left of where you remember it being, crumpled around the front end of a huge red truck.

“Oh my god,” Irene whimpers. “Oh my god. Y/N, your arm!”

Your brow furrows and you turn your head to see her pointing at your right arm. Your stomach lurches at the sight of your forearm bent in a grotesque way. It doesn’t hurt, though, which you find really weird right up until your arm starts moving on it’s own.

“Holy shit,” someone - maybe Irene? You’ll never know - says.

You watch in horrified fascination as your forearm straightens out, the scrape of bone against bone as it sets itself as bad as nails on a chalkboard.

“That chick just healed herself,” you hear from the crowd that’s beginning to form.

“Did you see? She opened a portal and got them out of the car.”

“Who is she?”

“Maybe she’s like that Hulk thing from a few years ago?”

“God I hope not. That was a mess.”

The words keep coming, dozens of questions, too many to focus on at once. Your head is spinning and you’re faintly aware of Irene calling your name.

A deep voice cuts through the overwhelming noise of the gathering onlookers. “Get back, give them some space, let the paramedics through.”

“Y/N?” a new voice says. This one is closer, unfamiliar but lighter than the deep voice. Softer, filled with gentle concern. “Y/N, I need you to breathe with me. In, out. Come on, with me. In, out. In, out.”

You force yourself to focus on the voice, following its lead as you draw deep breaths. Gradually, your heart begins to calm - you hadn’t even realized it was racing.

“There you go, that’s it. In, out.”

Your vision clears and you find a kind-looking woman in a paramedic’s uniform kneeling in front of you. She smiles when she sees you looking at her.

“Hi,” she says. “I’m Amelia. I’m gonna lay you down, okay?”

You manage a small nod, allowing her to guide you to lay down on something - a backboard, you’ll later realize. She shifts to kneel by your head, gentle hands holding your neck still while someone else secures you. Amelia talks the entire time, soothing words that keep your attention on her and away from the fear that wells up when you realize you can’t move.

“I’m not hurt,” you protest as they shift you onto a gurney and cover you with a blanket.

“Just being careful,” she explains. “We have to take every precaution.”

You try to shake your head and realize you can’t. “I was hurt but I’m not anymore.”

Amelia doesn’t respond to that, too busy helping get the gurney into the back of an ambulance.

“Wait up!”

A new voice - a man. Someone else climbs into the ambulance. When they sit beside Amelia, you see it’s a man with the familiar blue uniform of an NYPD officer

“How is she?” he asks as the door closes and the ambulance begins to move.

“In shock but conscious,” Amelia answers. You feel the prick of an IV in your arm.

“Y/N,” the officer says, leaning over you. He’s about mid-thirties, you decide. Handsome, with a clean-shaven face and blonde curls. He reminds you a little of Quinn. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Yes,” you say, fingers twitching under the blanket.

“Can you explain what happened?”

You try to shake your head again, forgetting you can’t move it. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening to me?”

Your breath catches in your throat, pinned there by the wave of panic that surges through your body.

“Hey, hey.” Amelia places a hand on her cheek, drawing your attention to her. “It’s okay. We’re here to help. We’ll figure it out.”

You can’t hold back a whimper, tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N,” the officer murmurs, tone softening. “Did you know you had powers?”

“No,” you manage. “I didn’t… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” he prompts.

A memory. You’re climbing a tree and you fall but there’s a flash of something dark over your vision and then you were sitting on the ground. Safe. And that wasn’t the only time.

“Things happened when I was little?” You furrow your brow. “But I thought… those were dreams or something. That I made them up.”

He nods. “Gifted but with semi-dormant powers. Makes sense. Opening the portal must have been purely instinctual.” He lays a hand on your shoulder. “You saved your friend’s life, Y/N.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Portal. What the hell are you?

--

“You wanted to see me?” Coulson says, knocking lightly on the frame of Fury’s open office door.

“I just received a report of a new gifted in New York,” Fury replies, holding out a file without looking up from the one open on his desk. “She’s at Mount Sinai.”

“A new gifted? Like Captain Marvel?”

“Different.” Fury shakes the file a little. “I want her brought in, for protection and potential recruitment. I’m certain other organizations have heard by now.”

Coulson sighs, accepting the file. “You do know it’s gonna take me forever to get there.”

Fury smirks, finally looking up. “Better get a move on, then.”

--

You’re alone in a little curtained off “room” when they come for you. The triage nurse already checked you over and now you’re just waiting for the doctor to clear you to go home. Last you heard, Irene has already been discharged and is waiting to be picked up by her parents. Your own are supposed to be on their way but you have a feeling neither are going to show.

That’s nothing new, unfortunately. Maybe Irene’s parents would be willing to drive you home.

You swing your legs a little, glancing around the room like there will be something new to see. It’s the same as before. Whitewashed wall to your right, pale blue curtains on all other sides, fluorescent lights above doing their best best to steal what little color there is.

The sound of something loud interrupts your thoughts- a popping sound you’ve heard. For half a second you think it’s fireworks before realizing it’s definitely not and yes, you have heard it before. Coming from the gun range you bike past on your way to work.

You leap off the bed at the sound of people screaming and men shouting. The men seem to be getting closer.

Coming for you.

You look around, looking for somewhere to hide but there’s nowhere and besides, it’s too late. The curtains are ripped open to reveal a huge man - long hair, piercing blue eyes glaring over a mask, six feet and broad as a house, black leather all over except for the very shiny, very scary, very metal arm with a red star on the shoulder.

He says something in a rough language you can’t understand, slinging his massive gun onto his back and reaching for you with leather-gloved hands.

“No!” you scream, suddenly finding your voice. You kick out and actually manage to make contact with his shin, but the man might as well be metal all over for all the good that does you and he continues to advance. “No, no, no-”

He growls, gripping your arms and dragging you out into the hallway where more masked men in black leather wait. None of them have metal arms but that doesn’t make them any less terrifying. You struggle in your attacker’s grip, screaming for help even though you know, deep down, that no help is coming.

The man snaps something to one of the others in the foreign language. That man pulls a hypodermic needle from a pocket on his bullet-proof vest and stabs it into the meat of your bicep.

You’re unconscious almost before you even realize what he’s done.

---

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @laughing-at-the-darkness​​​ @tumbler-tidbits​​​ @imsuperawkward​​​​​ @emoryhemsworth​ @manawhaat​

[spaceskam]

On The Side Of The Road

for a late day 6 of @isobelevansappreciation​: emotions/healing

Summary: After picking up Alex from the military base, Isobel and Alex get stranded on the side of the road and encounter someone with not-so-great intentions.

Warning: creepy guy with creepy intentions, mild violence, trauma, fun stuff like that

ao3

Isobel hated every single thing about this.

“It’ll be fun, he said. Bonding, he said. You have so much in common, he said,” Isobel grumbled before roughly kicking the flat tire that decided to pop when they were nowhere near anything and there was no cell service.

“Isobel,” Alex said calmly, “I’m going to change it, don’t worry. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching the Airman run his fingers through his hair a little too dramatically for the situation. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Alex, but she didn’t know the guy well enough to spend a five-hour car drive with him and she didn’t really trust anyone in the military because it was easy to assume they all had a power fetish. But it was for Michael so she’d agreed. Now she was regretting it.

This weekend was their 23rd birthday and the one single thing Michael wanted was his boyfriend to come visit him. After some last-minute arrangements and a little bit of influence, Isobel had convinced Alex’s boss to let him have the weekend off. But Alex was apparently scared of planes (which was downright comical for someone in the Air Force to be scared of planes, by the way) and Michael couldn’t afford to take the day off of work to go get him, so that left Isobel.

She hadn’t expected to run over something sharp enough to pop her tire though.

"Where is your spare?" Alex asked, already digging through her trunk.

"I'm already using my spare," Isobel said, gesturing towards the back wheel. He stared at her for a solid 30 seconds in disbelief.

"You're joking," he said blandly. Isobel raised her eyebrows to say she absolutely wasn't and that's why she was so irritated. She didn't want to be stuck with him in the middle of the goddamn desert. "Right."

Isobel watched in veiled amusement as Alex felt his pockets and pulled out his phone, squinting as he held it up to try to find signal. She watched him walk around in search and spent that time trying to figure out what exactly Michael saw in him.

He was handsome enough, she guessed, but he'd gone from a fashion disaster in high school to a military man with unflatteringly short hair and plain clothes that could be on any man in the entire US. The few conversations she'd had with Alex had told her nothing about him, even their car ride consisted of short answers. Imagining that with Michael didn't make sense.

Isobel was broken from her daze as he jumped onto the hood of the car and walked to stand on the roof.

"What are you doing?!" Isobel yelled. He ignored her, squinting up at the sun as he held the phone to his ear.

"Guerin? Hey, can you hear me?" Alex said into the phone, voice the same exact tone as it was when he spoke to her. She didn't like that either. She saw the way Michael melted when he thought about him. He deserved sweetness too. "Shit, look, if you can hear me, Isobel's tire is blown. We're 40 miles northwest of Roswell. I'll try to send a text."

Alex ended the call and stayed posted up on the roof of the car as he typed out a message, clearly posing as if he had a photoshoot no one else knew about before jumping off. Isobel stared dully at him.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" she asked. 

"No," he said, shrugging off his jacket so he was left in a plain white tank top and plain baggy jeans.

Clearly, she was supposed to see something in him that she saw in herself. Michael always said how similar they were, but she knew damn well she wasn't that closed off and boring. Or, at least, she hoped.

Alex's phone dinged with a message after a few minutes of him pointlessly inspecting the tire and he looked at it with a bored expression.

"Michael said he's on his way, but it'll probably take him at least an hour to find us," Alex explained, pushing himself to an upright position again. 

"Oh, so we can call him Michael as long as he can't hear?" Isobel asked. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I've only heard you call him Guerin to his face.”

Alex didn’t reply as he kicked the tire and then sighed. She waited for him to respond, but it didn’t happen and he just leaned against the car. Isobel stared at him and he stared at the ground. The silence seemed to drag on as the sun just beamed down with unforgiving heat, but Alex easily seemed to be in a spotlight. She hadn’t really noticed that he was attractive before since he wasn’t her type (and she definitely wasn’t his), but he seemed to glow like a model under the sun. His skin was tanned and his biceps were sculpted. She could understand why Michael liked at least that.

Isobel was nearly sweating by the time she said, “You know, Michael wanted us to bond, but you don’t talk very much.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, what’s it like being queer in the military?” Isobel asked immediately. He shot her an icy glare that made her have to hold back a smile that, after hours of being locked in a car with him, she got a reaction. “What, gonna try to deny that?”

“I didn’t deny shit.”

“Okay, then what’s it like?” she prodded. Alex huffed a dry laugh and shook his head.

“How about you tell me what it’s like to be white and thriving off Daddy’s money in the suburbs?” Alex shot back. Isobel raised an unbothered eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you know a little about that too?”

“My dad’s got money,” Alex said, a cynical smile on his face as he held out his hand as if that was enough explanation for the other part he didn’t quite fit, “Not me.”

“Fair enough,” Isobel agreed. Alex took a deep, grounding breath and then to sit on the hood of the car. Isobel gave him a few seconds before following and sitting beside him.

“Oh my God,” he groaned softly.

“You know, you should learn to like me,” Isobel said, “According to Michael, we’re very similar.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Neither do I.”

They sat on the car in silence again. The cynicism seemed to boil between them as they waited for Michael, so, when a truck pulled up in front of them, they both let out sighs of relief. Except, when the dust settled, it was clear that it wasn’t Michael and the figure of a man sat in the driver’s seat instead.

“Get in the car,” Alex said, eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter and stared at the truck, “Lock the doors.”

“What? It’s not that big of a deal, he’s probably just offering help,” Isobel said. Alex shook his head.

“Get in the car and lock the doors” Alex repeated, sliding off the hood.  

Isobel didn’t move as he walked with a confident air, shoulders back and a cocky swagger in his step. Michael liked to imitate that walk when he was pretending to be big and bad, but he was always comically bad at pulling it off. Alex, on the other hand, actually managed to look at least semi-intimating and entirely capable when he did it. She might’ve been impressed if she wasn’t scared that would piss off the stranger in the truck.

The guy got out of his truck with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking perfectly normal and not at all scary if not for that one little fact. Alex seemed to spot that right away and angled himself so his left side was closer towards the car.

“Y’all need some help?” he asked.

“Thanks, but we have someone a few minutes out,” Alex responded.

“You sure about that?” the guy asked, eyes going to Isobel, “‘Cause I bet the pretty little lady you got there might not wanna wait in this heat. You really gonna make her wait?”

“Yeah,” Alex said cooly, not moving as he provided a block between the two of them, “I am, actually.” 

Isobel had her nose scrunched up in disgust, but she appreciated Alex’s dismissive attitude. That was the first time she could see herself in him like Michael always said.

“Thank you, but you can go now,” Alex said.

“I can stay until your ride gets here,” the guy said. Isobel silently questioned if Alex was psychic or just so paranoid and it was simply a coincidence that he was right.

“No, we’re fine,” Alex said firmly.

The guy’s eyes found Isobel again and she just kept her stern face of disgust. She’d decided a long time ago not to be scared of men anymore. Sure, the drifter was scary and so were all the other creepy men she encountered on a daily basis, but she had learned how to take care of herself. She refused to give them the satisfaction.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” he asked Isobel, tilting his head in her direction. She gave a smile and waved goodbye wordlessly. He laughed and went to take a step closer.

Alex put a hand on his chest before he could get around him, not-so-kindly pushing him back. Another check in the box of what Michael saw in him.

“Oh, c’mon,” the guy said.

“Fuck off,” Alex told him, unmoving. 

“You heard the man,” Isobel said, trying not to sound too playful despite her utter enjoyment at watching Alex shut him down, “Fuck off.”

“I’m just tryin’ to help, you don’t have to be so ungrateful,” the guy said, fiddling with his pockets a little more. Isobel watched his hands carefully and hoped this wasn’t about to turn into a shitty horror movie. She didn’t sign up for that. She barely signed up for picking up Alex in the first place.

The guy took a step forward again and Alex again pushed him away. However, the guy took his hands out of his pockets and pushed him back. Isobel sat up straight, adrenaline pumping through her as she tried to figure out how to prevent her brother’s boyfriend from getting beaten to a pulp.

By the time the first two punches were thrown, she slid off the hood of the car and ran over to them. She grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him away and stood between them, letting Alex still glare over her shoulder as he wiped a bit of blood from beneath his nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Isobel snapped over her shoulder at the strange man, “You just pulled over looking for a fight?!” 

He gave a cold little laugh, all too similar to what that drifter had sounded like that night almost 10 years before, and he reached out to grab her waist. And Isobel realized that it had nothing to do with looking for a fight from Alex at all.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, squirming just enough to get where she could elbow him between his legs. He groaned, letting her fall to the ground pathetically. Her heart was thudding in her ears and she was breathing heavily, but she managed to scramble to her feet quick enough to not show any ounce of weakness to the stranger.

Alex had grabbed him by the shirt collar while he was down and dragged him back to his truck, slamming the door. Isobel spat on the hood so she could at least do something.

“Man, y’all are fuckin’ crazy,” the stranger said as he quickly started up his truck. A whole slew of obscenities came to Isobel’s mind in response, but her heavy breathing only allowed her to hold up her middle finger. Alex stayed right by the truck until it peeled off.

Once he was completely out of sight and the initial adrenaline started to fade, Isobel felt like she couldn’t breathe. Tears burned at her eyes and that stupid, stupid fear that he was going to come back for her burned in her mind. With the drifter, even after watching Max tackle him to where his head slammed against a rock and even after watching Michael dig a grave for an hour straight, she always felt like he was going to come back. She’d finally gotten over that feeling.

“Isobel?” Alex asked, voice soft for the very first time, “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry I let him grab you like that, but he’s gone now.”

She struggled to find her breath, struggled to hear him properly, struggled to do anything but feel overwhelmed with fear. Alex held his hands out in front of her eyes, a silent way to ask if he could touch her. She gave a short little nod despite not wanting him. She wanted her brothers, but they weren’t here. Alex would have to do.

Instead of a hug though, Alex gently grabbed her arm and led to help her sit down on the sand. They both sat criss-cross across from each other, their knees touching. He still had blood under his nose, but he didn’t seem to mind as he looked her in the eye.

“You’re allowed to feel this way,” he said and he held her hand, just being there until she was able to calm herself down.

She felt so stupid. Logically, she was overreacting. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Would she still feel like this if she didn’t have that experience with that drifter? Would still she feel overwhelmed? Would she still want Michael and Max as much as she did? But no matter how stupid she felt, Alex kept saying that she was allowed to cry and overreact and be this way. He wasn’t freaked out. He didn’t ask questions. He just told her it was valid.

And she really understood what Michael meant about them being similar.

Eventually, her crying subsided and she calmed down enough to at least pretend to be normal. She would probably hug Michael once he got there until she felt all the way better, but she was okay.

“Thanks,” Isobel said, drying her eyes with her hand that wasn’t still gripping his.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. She looked at him for a moment and weighed the options of telling Alex about the drifter so he would understand a little better. It was obviously not her place to tell the actual aftermath of it, but she could tell him the first part.

“On our 13th birthday, Michael, Max, and I went out camping and I left the tent to go pee, so I was by myself. Then this guy came out of nowhere and grabbed me and started dragging me away, I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she admitted. Alex didn’t show much emotion other than his eyebrows raising slightly. “Max and Michael had to fight him off. I was so fucking helpless and I told myself I would never be helpless again. But I guess I still am. What a great 10th anniversary reminder, am I right?”

“What are you talking about, you’re not helpless. You got that guy to let go of you and, if I wasn’t here, you probably would’ve easily beat the shit out of him yourself. You were back on your feet in seconds. You’re a fighter, that’s what fighters do,” Alex said. Isobel shook her head, looking over to the side. “Hey, I’m serious. That wasn’t proof that you’re still helpless, that was proof that you’ve grown. Trauma doesn’t go away, but you’ve clearly done a damn good job at making it your bitch. You held your ground until you were safe and that’s the best you could’ve possibly done, so don’t beat yourself up about it. You did great. I’m proud of you.”

Isobel huffed a little laugh, “How many years of therapy have you had?”

Alex scrunched up his nose and held up his hand, his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. Isobel shook her head through another laugh before sniffling. They sat there for a few more minutes before Isobel eventually got up so she could go fix her makeup and not look like a crying mess.

“Can we not tell Michael about this?” she asked cautiously, “Like, we can tell him the situation, but not the part where he grabbed me? Because I know him and Max and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Absolutely, no problem,” Alex said, “Don’t really wanna deal with telling him that either.”

Isobel sat in the driver’s seat and Alex sat in the passenger seat, each of them touching up their face in respective ways. Both of them made a few small comments here and there, keeping the conversation light and the mood high. This day would just be their little secret.

By the time Michael pulled up, it was easy to pretend like nothing really happened and that the tight hug she gave him was her simply being dramatic over her busted tire.

[when-they-write-stuff]

Hey, it's me again( sorry). I was wondering if you could write a fic where Allison, Lydia and Stiles are besties, and have 'Team Human nights' where they just basically sit around, paint each others nails and bitch about their boyfriends. And Derek comes in through Stiles window during one of these nights?

“Remember that one time Jackson forgot about date night?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, sighing. Across from him, Allison threw back her head with a laugh and Lydia just sighed, focusing on her newly painted nails. She didn’t look upset though; just a little intrigued as she turned her hands over and tilted her head.

“Yeah. I still use it against him.”

See, if someone had told Stiles two years ago that he’d be spending almost every one of his Friday nights sitting in his bedroom with both Lydia Martin and Allison Argent without it being sexy in the future, Stiles might have thrown himself out a window. He didn’t think his younger-self would be disappointed exactly, but he might be a little peeved.

But right now, Stiles couldn’t imagine a better way to get the weekly gossip and get his nails painted. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again; what a douche. Tell me you at least kicked his ass. Just a little.”

“Oh, he slept on the couch for a week and watched the Notebook only for a month after that.”

“Good woman,” Stiles said, glancing down at Allison’s hand held lightly in his own, before finally drawing back with a grin. He was pretty sure when he’d first been corralled into “Team Human” nights and Lydia had informed him he was learning how to paint nails, he’d been less than inclined. But now he could say he had some serious skills, thank you very much.

He was basically a professional.

Allison glanced over his nails and smile. “I love it, Stiles.”

“Damn straight, you do.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Lydia said, gesturing to the other unopened polishes. “Your turn. Pick a color.”

“Blue,” Stiles said. Lydia raised a brow and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Blue’s just pretty.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s it.”

Stiles huffed and tried to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about. But Allison was giving him a knowing look and Stiles hated everything sometimes, holding out his own hands as Lydia reached for them. The red-head pursed her lips at the times he’d obviously chewed them down to nubs and Allison passed around the Twizzlers, placing one between Stiles’s teeth when he opened his mouth.

“So,” Stiles said, chewing around the candy and raising an eyebrow in her direction. “Date night this weekend? Please tell me before Scott attempts to.”

The brown-haired girl blushed, lowering her eyes. Lydia looked smugly knowing and Stiles would have cackled if not for the candy.

“Or are you two skipping date night all together and just going straight for the—”

“Stiles. Really?”

“What?” He said, shooting Lydia an offended look while she gave him a chastising one. “Allison knows how to share certain things without oversharing, something that Scotty-boy still hasn’t figured out yet. Do you really want to know some of the things I have to listen too?”

Allison’s face was even brighter red and she kicked Stiles in the shin, making him yelp. Lydia scowled as he yanked backward, smudging her handiwork, and Stiles instantly winced.

“Oops.”

“Oops is right,” she said sharply. “Now I’m going to have to start over.”

He just grinned.

The first time Allison had brought up the idea of “Team Human” nights, Stiles had decided he was never going to do that, thank you very much. But apparently, he didn’t get a say in the decision because then there had been a knock on his door that Friday night, Lydia in the lead, and Stiles had learned long ago never to tell her no.

His dad had been… curious at first, to say the least. But then he’d just gone with it and if he sometimes snuck a slice of pizza when he thought no one was looking, would Stiles really say anything?

He probably could. Probably should. But he tended to let his dad think he got away with it. It kept him from asking too many questions. The man just seemed relieved Stiles wasn’t risking his life that particular day.

Lydia finished up with his left hand and Stiles sat back to admire her handiwork. He could call himself ‘good at it’ all he wanted these days, but Lydia was something else. There were two little red dots on two of his fingers and Stiles gave her a narrow-eyed look. Lydia only smirked.

“What?”

“You know very well what, devil woman.”

“Hm.”

Stiles just rolled his eyes and focused on letting her finish his right hand. Except she didn’t seem to be finished, only doing half before looking up at him again with a small smirk. 

“You know, we could go on a triple date if you’d ask a certain werewolf out.”

Stiles’s heart stopped but he tried to cover it up by making a face and pretending to gag. “What, Isaac? Yeah, no thanks. And Boyd already has Erica. She might rip my throat out if I ever made the moves. Unless it was the three of us. And that’s… no.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Nope, I don’t. Not at all.”

“Okay,” Allison interjected, not looking convinced at all. “So you’re just never going to tell Derek you’re in love with him then.”

“Oh my god, this just went from zero to one-hundred way too quickly!”

She only grinned at him and Lydia smirked too, ducking back down to his nails. But before she’d even touched paint to his index finger, there was the sound of the window being shoved up and Stiles yelped, shoving himself up and scrambling for a baseball bat. The things of nail polish spilled across his floor and he already knew that was going to be a bitch to clean out.

Allison apparently carried knives even to Team Human nights, because she looked like she was about to stab the intruder. But then Derek froze, slowly raising his hands, and Stiles could’ve had a heart attack right there.

“Dude, seriously?”

Derek’s eyes tracked around the room, lingering on Stiles’s half-done nails and the packages of snacks strewn across the floor. Then his gaze focused back on Stiles and Lydia made a small noise at the back of her throat, moving to grab Allison’s arm and tuck the girl’s knife away.

“Right. We’re just going to be going.”

Stiles blinked at her. “What? You’re leaving? Why?”

She gave him a pointed look and glanced back at Derek, and Stiles really hoped his heart didn’t skip as many beats as he thought it had. But then Derek’s face was turning red, so Stiles was pretty sure he was out of luck. And he was so getting Lydia back later.

Except then they were gone, bedroom door closing behind them, and Stiles wondered if he’d live that long. Because Derek was giving him a constipated look now and he could’ve sworn the man was growling at the back of his throat.

“So,” Stiles said, nudging at the Twizzlers packet with his foot. “Twizzler?”

“Stiles.”

“... Uh, yeah, dude?”

The man moved forward and Stiles stumbled back, yelping as his back rammed into the door. He wondered if he screamed for help, Lydia and Allison would hear him. But then he heard the faint sound of a car starting up and headlights shone through his window as they backed away, and Stiles realized he was all alone.

He was so getting his throat ripped out.

“Look, dude,” Stiles said, babbling now. “I don’t know how soon you came or what you heard, but I promise that was just them messing with me and it’s  Team Human night, dude! Why are you even here?”

Derek furrowed his brows, stopping a few feet away and glancing around the room. Stiles’s stomach did a flip and he straightened.

“You do remember it was Team Human night, right? You know, when you train the furries and we do each other’s nails while gossiping about said furry asses, and—”

Stiles promptly cut off as Derek’s eyes snapped back to him. The man glanced back at his nails, narrowing his eyes and Stiles chuckled weakly, lifting them up to wiggle through the air. Derek’s gaze zeroed in on the two red dots and he stepped forward, catching Stiles’s hand and turning it to get a better view. Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat.

“That’s not what it looks like.”

Derek raised a brow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Meaning it looks like nothing.”

“Huh.”

“Monosyllabic, great. Are we gonna have an actual conversation here, Sourwolf? Or are you just going to flash your eyes and be all scary Alpha-like and maybe leave me for dead or something?”

Derek looked at him like he was an idiot. Stiles nervously licked his lips.

“Because I don’t know what you heard, but—”

“Is it true?”

And nope, this is Stiles’s worst nightmare. This is why they had ‘Team Human’ nights all the way across town instead of at the loft while the others trained, thank you very much. Stiles did not need werewolves getting into his business and he sure as hell didn’t need Derek Hale telling him that he’d never fall for Stiles’s scrawny ass, ever.

This was his worst nightmare. And Stiles had no idea how he was getting out of it.

“Look, dude—”

“Is it true?”

“Do we really have to do this, Derek? Aren’t I already humiliated enough?”

Derek actually looked confused. For a moment, Stiles was terrified Derek hadn’t heard as much as he’d thought and he was just making an idiot out of himself, but then the man’s face cleared and Stiles realized he was dead all over again. Until he also realized how red the man’s ears were turning.

Stiles blinked a few times and Derek looked anywhere but his face. Carefully, Stiles tilted his head.

“Dude, what exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing.”

“I didn’t even hear you drive up. How long have you been outside my window?”

Derek’s face was the color of his Alpha eyes now and Stiles’s breaths lodged in his throat. He squawked and the man flinched. 

“Oh my god, you totally knew it was Team Human night!”

“I did not.”

“Liar! You’re such a Stalkerwolf!”

Derek gave him a flat look, but Stiles wasn’t finished. He pushed a finger into Derek’s chest and moved closer, making the man actually look scared.

“This better have been the first time.”

“I don’t stalk you, Stiles.”

“Oh, clearly not. You were what, just chilling outside my window until Allison and Lydia left?’

Derek didn’t say a word. Stiles’s heart skipped a beat again.

“You were!”

“Do we have to do this right now?”

“Do this? Do this? Oh my god, dude, that was totally a private conversation. Oh my god! I’m lining my window with mountain ash. Better yet, I’m lining my roof with it! No, no, my entire lawn! Stalkerwolf!”

Derek’s eyes had turned dark and dilated, and Stiles suddenly realized how closed he’d gotten. Mouth going dry, he started to step back, but then Derek caught him by the wrist. Stiles froze and stared at the floor.

“Derek, I—”

“Did you mean it?”

And wasn’t that a question Stiles never wanted to address again? He wondered if he ran fast enough, he could make it to his jeep and leave before Derek stopped him. But then the hand left his wrist and tipped up his chin, and those thoughts were gone again.

“Stiles—”

“Yes, you Stupidwolf, I meant it. I’ve been in love with you ever since I was an idiot seventeen-year-old and for some reason, green eyes and strawberry blonde hair didn’t make me swoon anymore. I’ve been in love with you for years. So there! Are you happy now?”

Stiles could’ve sworn Derek’s lips twitched, which totally wasn’t fair because he wasn’t trying to be funny, dammit. But then Derek’s eyes were red and Stiles might have forgotten to breathe, and the man was definitely smirking now.

Which was also not fair.

“I am,” Derek said, eyes searching Stiles’s face. “Happy now.”

Nope, not fair at all.

Stiles would like to say that he’d expected nails, gossip, and snacks tonight. Most certainly not a certain Sourwolf. Most certainly not a certain Sourwolf getting all up and personal with the token human, Stiles Stilinski. He’d expected movies and maybe a bit of trash talking. Not Derek Hale. Never Derek Hale.

But then when the asshole kissed him, Stiles thought maybe he could make due. 

Yeah, he could do that.

- -

Okay, this is so late (and never be sorry, my friend, I adore seeing you in my inbox!!) but I had so much fun with this one. I’m trying to clean out the old inbox and I was so excited to write this prompt!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[honestlyfrance]

bury me here

pairing: sam/bucky

square filled: palm kisses/wiping away tears ( for the kisses bingo held by @bingokisses​​ !)

warnings/content: angst, hurt/comfort, soulmate AU, established relationship, angst with very happy ending

summary: Bucky Barnes is afraid of losing his soulmate another time.

a/n: oh hey it’s like 1.8k words and a week after the last one! im not playing to win but it just so happens that my fill is also the bingo call so i plowed thru this :D please leave some feedback and tell me if you like it; it goes a long way <3 enjoy! (also title ripped off from my old fic that didnt finish lmao)

my masterlist | find this on ao3

He asks you to bury him right here, and you laugh. Oh, how hard you laugh. You can’t find a proper reaction to such a thought so you brushed it off with a simple friendly gesture. Bury me here, the request echoes in your head when you drive back to work, when you wake up before sunrise, and when you come running back into his home in a fervent sweat. Bury me right here with you, he says to you. It must be all just a funny joke because there he lay… lifeless; a vessel without a soul. He asked you to bury him that night, and you were a coward, and that killed your lover in the deepest way possible.

You mourn. You sobbed— You screamed, you screamed until the air is exhaled out of your lungs until heaven and hell could hear your plead and resurrect your man. You hold onto his shirt, tugging on it, hoping that his chest elevates just a little. You wanted to find him in the dining room eating his breakfast but all you found was his soul slipping from your fingertips. Yes, Bucky Barnes, the universe isn’t kind, and Fate doesn’t care if Sam Wilson breathes his final breath.

That was two years ago, and Sam had never let it down. He teased and jested at Bucky’s obliviousness every chance he got. Bucky’s just glad they were soulmates with souls irrelevant to time, hence, they were excused from death when with each other.

After that moment, Bucky never left Sam’s side (but if the man says he needs his space, Bucky will give him that). They go grocery shopping together, they sleep together, they were partners in crime together, they did most things together. Out of everything, Bucky’s favorite thing to do with Sam was falling asleep with him. They would both be in bed, in their little bubble enjoying their time in silence and tranquility; Sam would be jotting down in his planner and journal while Bucky would be looking through his socials and occasionally send a link of a funny video or picture to Sam’s respective DMs. After all that mess of poking each other’s feet and just slyly catching a glimpse of each other. Sam would turn off the bedside lamp as Bucky begins to spoon him. It’s their kind of bubble of peace and oh wow they feel like flying being light as a feather right here.

They sleep with each other’s stardust in their veins, wrapping their fingers around the other’s wrists to feel their lover’s life strum against theirs. Bucky loved moments like this, when he could have Sam in his arms for a long time, never letting go. It assures him much like a kiss, fleeting and deep, yet he understands and he doesn’t doubt it. Falling in love must be like this: fleeting and deep, a constant fact.

It’s because Sam was so beautiful it’s incomprehensible, and to think that Bucky hadn’t realized he had fallen in love sooner. It all looks like a joke, he swears, and he still laughs about it, how ridiculously oblivious he was. All those nights under the stars and morning runs that consisted of sunrises that look like his love; these are the things that made Bucky look so stupid next to love, but he thinks it’s alright. He knows now, and he knows he’s so hooked up he’s never giving up.

So it’s no surprise why he’s still shaken up from finding the man he loves slipping from his grasp. It’s a scary moment, to see the love of his life slowly fade away, stars at the back of his eyes, night turns into galaxies, everything so pretty but everything was dead. God, death never was supposed to be so pretty and he was prepared to mourn for that too.

Bucky cries in his sleep as he sees those same stars he looked up to like the art Sam analyzes: carefully crafted by the very thing that created who he was, it was never supposed to be so intimate. He sleeps with Sam in his arms and all he could feel is stardust slipping away, further and further as he drowns in his sleep, and he worries that he’ll lose it all when he wakes up, his arms empty of the world.

He’s shaking, his breath stuttering like a panicked child. He wanted to come back home, back to Earth, relive nothing but happiness and Sam’s laugh, so bright and charming he’s swooned every single time like a damn fool. Bucky wanted to sleep in Sam’s arms without ever feeling like he could lose him at any minute. Bucky wanted to believe that Sam is his soulmate and they’ll live forever, as they feel they could be.

Sam wakes up with Bucky’s tears painting the back of his shirt. His heart aches at the mere feel of it, knowing that his man will never let it go. Let it go? How can I let go of a possibility? he would say, and Sam breaks a little bit in the inside as he turns around to face him. He’ll find him shaking, his arms around himself, and his eyes shut tight. Bucky will see stars in his sleep and that’s too beautiful a dream to wake up from, so Sam really couldn’t wake him.

It’s like this some nights. Bucky refuses to get help but will reluctantly do so anyway, just so Sam wouldn’t pester him. Bucky tries, oh how he tries but it’s no use; how can he not be scared about an eventual thing? One day, it’ll be the day without Sam that he’d lose him, and he’s not ready for that yet.

“I’m dreaming…” Sam sang, his voice so hushed that it’s breaking. The back of his hand brushes against Bucky’s wet cheek and the man visibly shivered. “…of a white… Christmas.”

It was the first of August but Sam couldn’t wait for the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas — oh! and New Year’s Eve.

“Just like the ones… I used to know…” Sam continued to sing, and as he sang, the closer his lips set a gentle kiss on Bucky’s forehead. It was just a fleeting kind of kiss, nothing too exciting, but the way Bucky’s shoulders rolled back, exhaling a little sigh, and his eyebrows relaxing, Sam could tell it meant everything.

Sam couldn’t help but smile at that. He brushes his hand against Bucky’s cheeks and began to wipe the tears away, humming to the tune of Christmas songs as August wind zips past their window.

“Is it the day of your Lord, already?” Bucky hummed in his sleep, his fingers curling around the collar of Sam’s shirt.

Sam hummed back, snuggling closer to his man that their noses are almost touching. “No. Christmas songs are just nice.”

“I know. That’s why I let you play them in July.”

“James… It’s August already.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed deeply as he scowled. “The fuck?”

Sam’s laugh, even in the first few seconds of the next day, was as lively as if he was awake, but in fact, he’s still stiff as a log and half asleep when he’s wiping Bucky’s tears away. Bucky hummed along with Sam and it’s their kind of symphony. His breathing was lax and Sam didn’t have to hold his breath anymore.

“Can I tell you something, Sammy?”

Sam’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Bucky’s open ones. The room was pretty dark, but it’s as if he could see the blue in them as clear as day. “Yeah, Buck?” he said.

Bucky pursed his lips, wrapping his arm around Sam’s waist. “You don’t have to do that for me. Don’t wake up.”

“I want to. Why don’t you want me to wake up?”

And it’s innocent, almost child-like when he says it. Oh, naive Bucky, he and his aching heart, forever played in Sam’s hands, it’s all in six words: “You grow old when you’re awake.”

There’s goes Sam’s heart shattering into a million pieces, his breathing stuttering for a moment before he stares at Bucky, trying to piece in the vague shapes in front of him, figuring out the details that made sense. After a few seconds of silence, Sam lurches forward and captured Bucky’s lips in his in a chaste kiss, sweet and deep, Bucky’s already twisting him so he could lay on his chest.

Sam lets go but he plants a quick one again before he says: “That’s not how this works, you know.”

“A lover can wish.”

Sam’s got his hands on Bucky’s chest as the man turns the lamplight on. They’re then doused in orange light, and it dances in Sam’s brown eyes, the absolute picture of a supernova, or the sun, swirling in the darkest recces of space like a burst of God’s light. It’s such a beautiful sight that Bucky just had to voice out his thoughts, his breath on Sam’s neck as he says it all, those same words in his thoughts: like a burst of God’s light.

Sam smiled, chuckling as Bucky brushed his fingers above Sam’s eyebrow. “You’re a poet at one in the morning too, huh?”

“A poet’s gotta have ‘nother poet,” he replied as he brings Sam closer to his body, his arms enveloping around him like a warm blanket.

“Hm, all I can say is just stop worrying,” Sam whispers into Bucky’s ear. “You’ll have white hair stressing like that.” Sam’s hands caress his cheeks, forcing the man to look into his eyes. “I need you to know that we both grow old. People age. We do that. But you know what doesn’t change? Our eyes. Ma’s always said if you’re gonna fall in love with someone’s body it better be the eyes, because God— those never change, not even the color nor the pupil.”

Bucky hummed, and when he smiled it was all squished up from Sam’s hands, and that only made his smile reach into both their eyes. “Your mama’s nice. Wish I could’ve met her.”

“Well, that’s a long time from now.”

With that, Bucky’s hand interlocked with one of Sam’s. Turning it over, Bucky pressed a deep kiss into the palm of Sam’s hand. He practically inhaled Sam’s scent as he did so, kissing his knuckles then his fingers, then to the wrist then to the elbow. As he did this, Sam’s found a home in the crook of Bucky’s neck, a smile on his lips he couldn’t wipe off.

“I love you and your eyes,” Bucky says out of the blue, the light turned off and the morning light creeping through the gaps of their curtain.

Sam groaned and rolled over, his hand still intertwined with Bucky’s. “Is it morning already? What did we do.”

Bucky planted a kiss on Sam’s ear and the man snorted at that, turning quickly to face him as he says: “Kissin’ and sleeping. The perfect combo.”

Sam laughed at that, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck as the man brings him close to his chest. There they felt each other’s life strum in a better place: the heart. It’s their favorite song in the entire world too.

[scaryscarecrows]

Screw Piña Coladas

AN: Thing that takes place after ‘R&B’s P’. For fun!

* * *

Juanita eyes the group with apprehension. It’s not that there’s a lot of them-they get largeish groups from Gotham all the time, usually from the mob-but it is a little weird, because these guys aren’t mobsters. But no, it’s mostly the one they haven’t let out of their sight since they got here. He’s a kid, or close, and, well, the hovering makes her wonder if he’s, like...not here willingly.

You know.

And it’s just...a couple of days ago, a very drunk, very belligerent guest had been getting on one of the waiters-just one of those things, happens too often but hey-and the kid had gotten involved. The guest had backed off, made a run for it when some of the others had showed up, and the kid had promptly been manhandled into a chair.

Weird. It’s just a weird situation all around and she doesn’t like it.

Today’s her lucky day. They’re all outside, and the kid’s sprawled in one of the sun loungers with a book. The others are either nowhere to be seen or in the water-two of them are attempting to dunk the big one in the surf, but so far he hasn’t so much as slid in the sand. They’re far enough away, though, that if she acts casual about it, she should be able to approach the kid without drawing suspicion. She works here. She has to check in with the guests, make sure everything’s all good, yes?

Up close, he looks terrible; sickly pale, with cuts and bruises mottling what little skin’s visible. He’s not dressed like a normal tourist, either, instead going with long, loose pants and a long-sleeved shirt that clings to the outlines of bandages wrapped around his midsection. He’s got a knee brace, too, a good one, and that explains, at least a little, why he’s usually got someone with him. The only normal thing he’s wearing is the pair of large, mirrored sunglasses that do very little to hide or even obscure the brand on his cheek.

She thinks he’s asleep, at first, but then she takes one more step and his head snaps sideways, sunglasses barely hanging on.

“Sorry to startle you,” she says, trying for an easygoing smile. She gets a shy one in return.

“Not your fault. Did you need something?”

“Just checking in. Would you like a drink, or a snack? Our shrimp cocktail--”

“That’s not what you wanted,” he says gently. Fine.

“Are you okay?” Okay, it’s blunt, but still. “Because we can absolutely get you out of this situation if you’re not.”

The kid laughs and sinks back, one arm draped carefully across his ribs.

“I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m not a-oi!” In the water, the big man has finally turned on the other two and is carrying one of them out to sea. “If he drowns, I drive back!” Whatever that’s about, it stops the guy cold and he hurls his cargo into an oncoming wave. The kid sighs and mutters something about idiots before turning back to her. “They didn’t kidnap me, I promise. Thanks for the concern, though. Means a lot.”

If he says so…

“You okay, sir?”

Eep!

She’s brushed aside by a man with a backpack, who crouches down and unzips it.

“I’m fine. Just getting a drink.”

“No alcohol,” the man warns. The kid’s eyebrows go up like he’s rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“I’m not,” he grumbles, then turns to her and gives her a more confident smile. “C’n I get a raspberry lemonade, though?”

“Sure thing. Anything for you, sir?”

“No, thanks.” He sounds distracted. “You take your antibiotics?”

“Thought I had to take ‘em with food.”

“It’s like you’re trying to die.”

“I’m not-!” The kid sighs. “C’n I get some of those fried plantains with that?” The man gives him a hard stare. “Those are food!”

“I am this close to dragging you back to the hotel--”

“Don’t, they’re already worried you idiots kidnapped me--”

“We didn’t,” the man says to her, and it’s the most unconvincing thing she’s ever heard. “There. Now come on, you have to eat something else.”

“I’ll eat more at dinner, I’m not hungry.”

“Fine. But if you puke, I’m going to say I Told You So.”

“You say that anyway.”

“Shut up.” Out of nowhere, a bottle slaps against the kid’s palm. “If I had my way, you’d still be in a nice, sterile hospital bed. Do not push it.”

“Okay, okay. That’ll be it, thanks.”

“That’ll be right out.”

When she gets back, maybe fifteen minutes later, the man with the backpack is gone and the kid’s asleep, sunglasses halfway down his nose and the paperback splayed across his chest. He’s not alone; one of the men from the water is lounging next to him, slathering sunscreen on his arms.

“What do-oh. Step back. Hey, boss?” No response. The guy grimaces, mutters, “This is gonna suck,” and leans over to poke the kid’s elbow. 

The reaction is sudden and explosive; his hand shoots up to grab the man’s wrist and he pulls himself halfway up, sunglasses falling off his face and book tipping into the sand. His...friend...just stays still for a minute before nudging at his shoulder with his free hand.

“Hey. S’okay. S’just me.”

“Drouot…?”

“Yeah. Mark’s gonna pitch a fit if you don’t take your meds, so, uh, wakey-wakey.”

The kid lets go and sinks back, breathing hard, before leaning down to rescue his book and his sunglasses.

“Sorry.”

The guy-Drouot-waves a hand.

“I hate to wake you up, but, uh. Yeah. Mark’s scary.”

The kid visibly bites back something, if the mischievous grin is anything to go by.

“Mm-hm. Thanks.”

“Can I get anybody anything else?”

“I’m good.”

“I’ve got a piña colada coming,” Drouot says. The kid gives him a look that promises murder.

“If you sing so much as one line, I swear on God, you’ll be another missing tourist.” He leans up to take his food from her. “I mean it. One. Line.”

Great, now that song will be in her head for a year. She’s with the kid on this one.

“I do not want this,” he’s saying now. Then a wheedling, “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“He’s gonna know, and he’s gonna be pissed. I’m open to fighting, like, Batman--” The kid snorts. “--but Mark will literally murder me if you try to get out of it, so. Sorry, sir.”

“You should have left me to die,” the kid groans, before handing her a handful of bills. “It looks nice. Thanks.”

“Enjoy!”

She’s not far when Drouot receives his piña colada. She knows this because he hums a few bars, resulting in a furious, “I wasn’t kidding--”

“If you rip your stitches--”

“You’ll go down for it, because you provoked me.”

“That’s fair.”

Aaaand there it is. The song’s in her head now. Thanks a lot, asshole.

THE END

[pendragonsandbuckleys]

hold me like the moon holds onto the tide (3/3)

Summary: Kidnapped and locked in a cell with no escape. Alex and Michael are faced with an ex-Caulfield employee who is prepared to do anything to get alien powers of his own. (Inspired by the Daisy/Sousa scenes in Agents of Shield 7x06)

Word Count: 3,804

[Also on AO3]  [Part One] [Part Two]

“What about the time he tripped over your guitar and smashed his head into the table?” Flint leaned back as he spoke. The hard plastic of the chair was digging into his back and it squeaked as he tried to get comfortable.

He’d never liked hospitals. The strong antiseptic smell that seemed to linger in the air. The rush of people in the day and the quiet hallways at night. The big scary words that made no sense but always seemed to mean something bad. The unnatural mix of cleanliness and death.

He didn’t mind them so much when he was younger. His mother had always told him that they were hopeful places, where illnesses were cured and lives were saved. Thinking back, it was probably just her protective way of trying to calm his nerves whenever a grandparent was sick.

But at that age, her positive nature imbued in him a childish hope that the doctors would be able to help his brother. That soon they would realise that that many broken bones and bruised ribs a year was so much more than just a clumsy child falling off his bike or losing his grip whilst climbing a tree.

He couldn’t remember when he’d stopped wishing for someone to work it out and just accepted that no one would. It was probably around the same time he’d stopped accompanying his brother on his too frequent visits and had left that responsibility for someone else.

The last time he had actually stepped foot inside a hospital was after his unfortunate accident during CrashCon. Healing up in the unwelcoming, lonely hospital room for a week wasn’t fun but at least he hadn’t needed to worry about the condition of anyone else during that time.

No, the last time he’d been on the waiting for news end was during his last tour when several members of his team had been seriously injured.

Until now. Which is why part of him was glad that he wasn’t alone in his vigil.

“He must have been about eight, right?”

“Oh my god, there was blood everywhere!” Gregory grimaced as he looked over at him, horrified that his brother was even bringing up that memory.

Flint laughed softly at how uncomfortable the recollection had clearly made his brother, ”You felt so guilty! I don’t think you even got your guitar out of its case for months afterwards.”

Gregory shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t sure when this game between them of who had the most embarrassing moments had just straight up turned into a list of which brother had managed to injure another the most.

It was true though. He hadn’t slept properly for days after that incident. Every time he had closed his eyes he had seen Alex’s poor little face covered in blood and tears and snot and he’d felt the guilt brewing inside him. He had avoided the guitar out of fear that he would somehow manage to wound his brother with it again.

To this day he still makes sure that the instrument is kept off the floor.

“You know, growing up, I think that was the last time he was in the hospital where it wasn’t dad that put him there.” He replied sombrely.

Flint hummed in response. He had run out of words to say on that subject. It was a topic that had slipped frequently into discussions between the two of them during their months of reconciliation and it always ended in the acknowledgement of their guilt and desire to do better.

Gregory pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. It had been a long day and he could feel the hours catching up with him. “I really hoped I would never have to see him in a hospital again.”

"Were you there after he lost his leg?” Flint asked.

“No, I didn’t even know it had happened ’til months later. Did you?”

”No. I think Dad went though.”

“Seriously?”

Flint nodded with an unamused look on his face.

“Why? It’s not like he went to go play the loving father.” Gregory asked, genuinely confused as to why his dad would even bother to take the time to go and see Alex.

Flint shook his head as he repositioned himself again. At this rate he was honestly considering going on a hunt for a pillow. “That man didn’t know the first thing about being a loving father.”

Gregory’s brows furrowed as he failed to hide his surprise at that statement. The expression was so familiar and Flint couldn’t hold back an exasperated eye roll.

“Don’t give me that look, I may have followed in his footsteps but I know exactly what kind of man he was.”

Gregory watched as his brother played with the cuff of his jacket, his thumb and forefinger running along the edge before tugging uselessly at the material. It was a nervous habit that he’d always thought their father had managed to train out of Flint.

“Do you regret it? Following him?” He asked delicately, noticing how Flint’s eyes remained trained on his sleeve as he answered.

“We all followed him.”

“Into the military, yeah, we didn’t exactly have a choice. But on his little homicidal mission? The rest of us hopped that train before it reached the station.”

“Umm more like he didn’t even invite you onto the train. You have no idea what you would have done.” Flint replied defensively and Gregory was caught off guard by how much the look in Flint’s eyes reminded him of their mother.

“Pretty sure I wouldn’t have done that.” He teased, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah alright, well I’ve apologised, okay?” Flint rolled his eyes again as he leant over and gave his brother a playful shove.

Their conversation fell into a comfortable silence as their gaze drew back to the third presence in the room.

Alex hadn’t woken since Flint had found him but in the hours since they had brought him to the hospital his cheeks had gained more colour and he looked to be resting more peacefully.

Clean bandages hugged his various wounds, several IVs were in place to begin replenishing what Hughes had stolen and now all they needed was for him to wake up.

It was strange watching their brother sleep. The last time they would have had the chance was when they were all living under the same roof together, but Alex was always so guarded back then with their father in the house that he would never allow himself to be seen in such a vulnerable state. Starting after their mum had left, Greg could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Alex sleep and they’d all been due to illness or injury.

The hospital ambience of the room, along with Greg’s wandering mind, was interrupted by a text alert on Flint’s phone. He slid his hand into his front pocket and pulled out the device, unlocking it with a quick tap of four digits. He opened the message and Greg watched as his eyes scanned the words.

“It’s Clay. He says he’s glad we found him and to keep him updated.”

Greg’s eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. It had been a long while since he’d seen Clay in person but he was glad to hear that their brother was also onboard for acting like a family again. “Who would have thought it. It only took us until our thirties but we’re all finally learning how to be brothers again.”

Flint opened his mouth, ready to give a sappy reply about how he much he’d missed the bond they’d all had during childhood, when a small groan from the bed caught his attention.

Alex’s brow was furrowed as he poked his tongue through his lips slightly - a tiny habit that Greg could recall seeing him do all the time when he was younger. After a few moments his eyes blinked open as he let out another involuntary groan.

Greg couldn’t help but grin as he watched Alex slowly register his surroundings. Being closer to the top of the bed than Flint, he leant forward and gently placed a comforting hand on Alex’s arm.

“Hey.” He whispered, keeping his voice low as to not startle his brother.

Alex turned his head slightly, his unfocused eyes drifting to the left as he followed the sudden sound. “Hey,” he replied, his words slow and soft. “You’re here?”

“Of course we’re here.” Greg began to rub his thumb back and forth along Alex’s arm in a soothing gesture. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Greg was unsurprised at the answer. Alex’s eyes were already struggling to stay open. “Go back to sleep Alex. You’re safe now.”

Alex had only allowed his eyes to close again fully for a moment before they were flying open again, Michael’s name being drawn from his lips with a gasp.

Greg continued the soothing motion, bringing Alex’s gaze back to him. “He’s fine, he’s okay. He’ll probably be here the next time you wake up.”

Alex nodded as he let his body relax once more and drifted back to sleep.

Greg looked over to Flint to find him wearing a matching smile, nodding to himself in an unspoken acknowledgement. Alex was going to be okay.

-

The door to Alex’s room opened carefully.

Michael had noticed that the lights inside had been dimmed so he hadn’t wanted to wake anyone, though he was wholly unsurprised to find Greg and Flint watching him with raised eyebrows as he entered.

“Thought you were gonna try and get some sleep?” Flint asked in near amusement.

“I did get some sleep.”

Greg tilted his head sympathetically. “Michael, you’ve been gone barely an hour.”

Michael shrugged as he took a seat in the one remaining chair on the other side of the bed, “No one specified how much sleep.”

He had tried to get some rest but every time he closed his eyes it was like there was an invisible string yanking him back to the hospital.

Isobel had taken him home as soon as Kyle had assured them all that, in time, Alex would be fine. She had spent the drive spouting on and on about how he had been through as much of an ordeal as Alex had and he needed to rest and look after himself. Or at least let someone else look after him.

The words had been left hanging in the air between them for a good few minutes before he had fully registered her kindness. And then he had just felt a horrible pang of guilt deep in his stomach. Guilt that her compassion and protectiveness didn’t quite warm his heart as much as Alex’s had.

So he listened to her. He ate the small plate of food she had lovingly made for him. He drank the hot cup of tea that burnt his tongue. He showered, letting the scolding water wash away the overwhelming fear that had been building up inside him ever since he first woke up with his hands chained to a wall. And then he crawled into Isobel’s bed and tried to ignore the nervous energy that was still sitting heavily on his chest.

And he had slept a little, he wasn’t lying about that, but it was like his brain knew that there was somewhere else he should be and he just couldn’t take it any longer.

“How’s he doing?” He tugged at his bottom lip as he observed Alex’s still sleeping face.

“Better.” Greg nodded, taking a moment to hide a yawn with his hand. “The doctor came back while you were gone. Said he’s probably gonna be quite weak and achy for a few days at least. But the transfusions are helping and he should be fine.”

Michael ran a hand through his curls. It wasn’t much more information than Kyle had provided earlier but to hear that nothing had gone wrong in his brief absence was relieving.

“He woke up not too long ago.” Greg continued and Michael looked at him, somewhat horrified that Alex had woken without him. It must have shown on his face.

“Calm down Guerin,” Flint snorted, “it was for like thirty seconds, he probably won’t even remember it.”

Michael could practically feel the heat crawling up his cheeks. No matter how protective and borderline possessive he felt of Alex at the moment, it was still embarrassing for anyone but himself to be aware of that fact.

“No it’s good, I’m glad he’s okay.” Michael coughed as he tried to deflect the conversation.

But Greg seemed to know how to catch him off guard all of a sudden as he turned it back onto him. “And how are you feeling?”

Michael took a few seconds to process the fact that Alex’s brother seemed genuinely concerned in his questioning.

“I’m fine, my powers are back and everything.” He replied warily. With Jesse Manes gone, he knew that he wasn’t in any danger from anyone currently in the room, but it still felt strange talking about his alien abilities to any Manes man that wasn’t Alex. “I could probably do with a bit more sleep before I try to use them, but whatever Hughes did to me has worn off.”

“That’s good that it wasn’t permanent. We’ll still go through all the data that Hughes managed to collate though and find out exactly how much he knew.” Flint said strategically and Michael could practically see the mental to-do list he was creating in his head. “And as long as you’re aware that you should be sleeping, I think our job here is done.”

Greg smirked at his brother’s comment. It was very clear that getting Michael to rest was a battle they were not going to win tonight.

“Talking of sleep, you know you two look worse than I do and I was literally being held hostage a few hours ago. If you want to head home for a bit I can stay with Alex.” Michael said innocently as he watched Greg yawn once again.

“Greg, I think that’s code for he wants some alone time with our little brother.” Flint mocked in a hushed tone.

“Hmm I think you’re right Flint.” Greg joined in, watching as Michael’s eyes widened as he spluttered in defence. “Or do you think maybe it’s just our company he doesn’t like?”

“Oh definitely. He’s been waiting for the moment to get rid of us.”

“We must have done something really wrong considering the person he wants to be left with is still asleep right now.”

“That is so true Greg. I mean he’s clearly desperate so we should probably leave now before we make it even worse.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he failed to control his smile. It was a display of brotherly mocking that he never imagined he would ever experience from someone other than Max and Isobel and as embarrassing as it was, it was somewhat heartening to be on the receiving end of it.

Flint chuckled as he stood, his back instantly grateful to be out of the chair, and he took one last look at Alex before leading the way to the door.

“Text us if you need anything, okay?” Greg placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder as he passed him and squeezed reassuringly.

Michael nodded as he watched them leave, afraid to open his mouth incase no words came out around the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. Having seen the hateful side of the Manes men in action, there was something so heartwarming about seeing Alex’s brothers actually be brothers. And to be included in the familiarity was a whole new feeling entirely.

-

Michael looked out at the stars shining through the window. The lights were still dimmed which allowed the moonlight to fill the room around him with a soft, pale glow.

He still remembered all of the constellations that he had taught himself as a kid, back when he was so desperate to soar high into the sky to join them. Back when he’d give anything to find his home planet again.

But looking into the glimmering darkness now, he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d stared at the night sky in search of the home he was unwillingly torn away from.

In fact he couldn’t quite remember how long it had been since home, for him, had started to be a person again.

Michael made no attempt to stifle a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. They were aching terribly and he could feel his body hopelessly crying for sleep but there was no way he was leaving until Alex was awake.

As if on cue, a small noise from beside him shook him out of his doziness.

He watched Alex’s throat bob as he swallowed reflexively before slowly blinking open his eyes.

“Hey,” Michael whispered. His voice so soft the word barely left his mouth.

Alex’s eyes wandered momentarily, seeking out the owner of the voice. Once his gaze locked with Michael’s, all Alex could do was stare, a small smile emerging as he took in Michael’s presence. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Michael looked at him tenderly as he leant forward and laced his fingers with Alex’s. A somewhat casually intimate move that he didn’t regret in the slightest. “And so are you.”

Alex looked down at the touch and relished in the warmth of Michael’s skin against his. The act of their hands together feeling so natural.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asked, his tired eyes looking longingly into Alex’s.

“Sore.” Alex replied and Michael couldn’t hold back the huff of laughter.

“Well, that’s what happens when you offer yourself up to be a guinea pig for a crazy psychopath.”

Alex playfully rolled his eyes at the accusation. He could practically feel his head pounding in time with his heart but he did his best to ignore it. He’d willingly accept the throbbing of his muscles and the coldness in his bones right now if it allowed him to just stay in this moment.

A few aches and pains were worth it. He was just glad to be alive.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, enjoying the way the moonlight was shinning on Michael’s curls.

“No, he didn’t touch me.” Michael assured him, “Isobel, Flint and Kyle got us out before he could do anything else.”

“How did they find us?”

“Turns out Sanders was still at the junkyard. Luckily he managed to catch the tail end of our little kidnapping so he called Isobel who called everyone and they spent the entire night trying to figure out who had taken us.”

Michael still couldn’t believe the luck they’d been in that the old man had chosen that night to stay late. They may never have been found if he hadn’t.

“Flint went to the bunker to look for possible alien connections when he found emails between Hughes and your dad. He recognised the name as someone he worked with in Caulfield so he followed the trail and it led him to us.”

Alex added another bullet point to his mental Project Shepard to-do list. If thoroughly digging into every email on the bunker’s computers was what was needed to prevent Michael being targeted again, then so be it.

“Of course he won’t tell me how it led him to us. It seems that’s classified.” Michael brought up the hand not holding Alex’s to do some one-sided air quotes.

“What about Hughes and his men?”

Michael shrugged, “Dealt with, apparently. Your brother is very secretive when he wants to be.”

“Must be a Manes thing.” Alex smirked sleepily.

“They were here earlier by the way. Flint and Gregory. They would have stayed but I used my charm to convince them that you’d much prefer to see my face over their’s any day.”

Michael winked at him and Alex felt butterflies. “Always.”

Michael gazed down at their locked fingers as he slowly ran his thumb up and down in a comforting gesture. He knew what he wanted to say next, but the words just felt so big and he needed to get them right.

“You shouldn’t have protected me like that. And I shouldn’t have let you.” He began sincerely.

“Michael-”

“But I’m grateful that you did.”

Alex’s lips parted but he couldn’t find the right words quick enough.

“We need to talk. Like properly talk. But what happened today, it made me realise how stupid it is to not be honest about how I feel.” Michael looked up and could see how intently Alex was listening. His beautiful brown eyes eager and hopeful.

“I can use as many excuses as I like. How we’re not good for each other. How it’s not our time right now. But you almost died, Alex. And if you had, it would have killed me. And if you had gone not knowing how much I care about you.” Michael shook his head as he looked away. The lump forming in his throat again. “I’m completely and totally in love with you Alex Manes. Always have been, always will. I can’t run away from it anymore and I’m done hiding it.”

Alex bit his lip as he felt the tears start to form in his eyes. He had been waiting to hear those words for so long.

He had been waiting to say them for even longer.

“I’ll never stop protecting you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate that before. I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away in the past and I’m sorry that I wasn’t ready. But I’m ready now.” Alex grinned, almost giddy at the declaration, “I love you Michael Guerin. Always have, always will.”

Michael could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his breath caught in his throat. He pursed his lips in an attempt to curb the ridiculous grin that was threatening to unfurl.

He gently unlaced his fingers, pushed himself out of the chair and leant over to delicately cup Alex’s cheeks, feeling the cool skin under his palms.

As dramatic love declarations go, tonights was pretty remarkable. But maybe it was exactly what they needed. They were here, they were alive and they were in love. That was the truth, spoken aloud with only the stars as their witness and there was no taking it back.

And Michael didn’t want to wait a second longer as he closed his eyes and met Alex’s lips with his own.

It was a gentle kiss. Slow and sweet and just as perfect as he remembered it being.

It was home.

[leedongwook]

Buddie lifeguard AU 🌸 Part 4

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Read on Ao3

Eddies fingers are hovering over Bucks phone number for 2 minutes now. He’s still vibrating from the evening yesterday. He can still feel Bucks skin against his. He’d tried to form a coherent test message to Buck, but couldn’t really find the words. He wanted to see Buck again, he just didn’t know how to ask him. Frustrated he throws his phone on the coffee table in front of him.

“Don’t know what to write him?”

Chimney walks around the couch and lets himself fall down next to Eddie, shoulders bumping against each other.

“What, no. Why?”

“I bet 3 fire station kitchen cleaning duties that the one you want to text is the hot lifeguard from the bar yesterday?”

Eddie blushes and looks away.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Maddie knows though, 'cos she’s his sister.”

Eddies head snaps up and Chimney is laughing loudly.

“Yeah, she told me about you and Buck. That’s his name, isn’t it?”

Eddie looks over to the stairs, thinking about how he could flee out of this conversation.

“There’s no me and Buck. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chimney chuckles and rubs his fist against Eddie's shoulder.

“That’s why you two disappeared to the beach together last night?”

“He just wanted to show me something.” 

Eddie coughs and rubs his hands along his upper legs.

“Yeah, I bet he did.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and hopes someone’s coming and saving him from this talk, but the team is still busy downstairs cleaning the trucks. He was just taking a break when Chimney came and found him.

“So what about you and Maddie?” Eddie tries to change the topic.

Chims eyes sparkle and he’s got this dreamy expression on his face.

“Eddie, she’s an angel. And her smile does things to me, oh my god. I’m gonna see her again at the weekend. I promised to help her out at the bar.”

“Chimney, always there to help, huh.”

Eddie grins at the other man.

His friend wants to answer him but the fire alarm disrupts them and both men jump into action to get to the fire truck. They’re called to a car pile-up on Monroe Ave.

When they arrive at the scene, Eddie can see six cars that have bumped into each other. His Captain tells his team where to start and Eddie’s out with Chimney looking for victims. 

The first person they get to attend is a young man, heavily leaning against the door of a car. His head is bleeding and he’s holding at his arm, visibly being in pain. Eddie steps in front of him, carefully, trying to get his attention. Chim stops next to him, putting his medic bag on the floor.

“Sir, can you tell me what hurts.”

The young man slowly looks at Eddie, his eyes foggy and tired. So definitely a concussion.

“He - he said to wait here. He said help would come.”

Eddie carefully assesses the mans head wound. His finger roam over his scalp and he can clearly feel a lump on the backside of the mans head.

“Sorry, who said that, sir?”

The man points over to the other cars involved in the car crash.

“The tall man who got me out of the car.”

Eddie follows the man’s hand and looks towards the center of the car crash. That’s when he sees him. He’s helping a woman and a child out of a car. There’s smoke everywhere and Buck leads the pair out of the crash site to safety. 

When Eddie looks closer he can see blood smeared on Buck’s cheek and forehead. He can’t see if it’s Bucks or someone else's though. 

He looks back at the victim and then at Chimney. The urge of running over to make sure Buck is ok, is consuming his mind and his hands start to shake. His friend seems to sense his distress and takes over the victim by pressing a gauze against his head.

“Go Eddie. Make sure he’s alright.”

Eddie nods gratefully and runs over to where Buck is still helping the woman. Buck hasn’t seen him yet and is helping the women and the child to sit down on the grass on the side road.

Eddie can clearly see that Buck’s struggling with getting up again, when he leans himself against a street lamp. Buck looks over to the car pile and starts moving towards it when Eddie stops in front of him.

“Hey Buck, hey. What are you doing here?”

Bucks head snaps up too fast and a groan escapes his mouth.

“Eddie?”

Buck is still moving and Eddie carefully puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Yeah, it’s me, Buck. My station was called out for the car accident.”

Buck looks at him in confusion and tries to wriggle Eddie's hand off his shoulder.

“Right. I gotta go and help the others. There are still people trapped.”

Eddie doesn’t let Buck past him though, his grip on the other mans shoulder intensifying.

“Buck! Look at me.You’re hurt. Were you in the accident too?”

Buck finally stops moving and looks at Eddie.

“Yeah, I think someone bumped into my trunk? Eddie, we need to help those people.”

“Yes, but first let me check you out, you’re bleeding.”

Buck shakes his head.

“I’m not hurt Eddie, what are you talking about.”

Eddie slowly lifts his hand, looking for a sign in Bucks eyes that it’s not ok to touch the other man, but Buck follows his hand quietly and doesn't stop him. Eddie carefully touches his forehead, right under his hairline. 

Buck hisses out loud when Eddie's finger touch the open wound there. There’s still blood oozing out of it and his hand comes back bloody. Buck stares at it with wide eyes.

“Oh. I didn’t even feel this.”

Buck starts to sway a bit and Eddie grabs his shoulder again.

“Must be the adrenaline. Please sit down Buck and let me check you over, ok?”

Buck looks over to the car crash again.

“But - but I need to help Eddie. I need to help.”

Eddie gently moves Buck backward to sit him down on the grass and this time the other man lets himself be guided down.

“You already helped Buck. There are firefighters to do the job. Now it’s your turn to get checked out.”

“Thought you already did that at the beach.“

Buck puts this adorable frown on his face and Eddie wants to laugh but the other man wincing in pain again stops him.

His eyes suddenly look sad and Eddie mentally curses himself for not remembering that Buck used to be a firefighter. And once you’re a firefighter, you’ll always be a firefighter. The urge to help people runs in your blood. And Buck not being able to work in his job again must have left scars on him. Physically and mentally.

He grabs his medic bag and gets the needed supplies out. He gently dabs at the headwound to clean the blood away. He then puts a gauze on it and tapes it on his forehead.

Buck lets Eddie check him over and doesn’t complain when he shines a light into his eyes to check for a concussion. His pupils are equal and reacting to the light. Eddie's still concerned about whiplash, so he reaches for the neck brace but Buck stops him.

“Eddie, I promise I’m good.”

Eddie sighs and puts the neck brace away.

“You still going to come with me and get checked out in the hospital. You could have a concussion.” 

Buck tries to get up and Eddie helps him, his hands never leaving the other man's shoulder.

“I would know if I had a concussion, Eddie.”

“Humor me. Please do it for me. I want to be sure you’re ok.”

Buck looks at him, really looks at him for the first time they met on the scene. The blue of his eyes is clouded over a bit but Eddie still can see the sparkle there. Half of his face is covered in blood. Headwounds tend to bleed heavily, Eddie knows that but it still looks scary to see so much blood on Bucks face.

“Please, Buck.”

Buck nods and lets Eddie help him walk. Eddie grabs his radio.

“Diaz for Han. You got a spot left in the ambulance for another victim. Needs to get checked out for a concussion and possible whiplash.”

“Copy that Diaz. We got room to take you with us.”

The two men slowly make their way over to the ambulance and Eddie helps Buck to get in. He sits him down and puts the seatbelt around his chest, taking a seat next to him. Chimney smiles at them while checking over the other patient lying on the gurney. It’s the man Eddie and Chimney saw first when they arrived at the scene.

The man slowly lifts his head and looks at Buck.

“Hey man, thanks again for getting me out. Your head ok?”

Buck smiles and rubs at his head.

“Sure thing. Yeah, no worries my head’s fine.”

Eddie coughs slightly and Buck laughs again. 

“I’m fine Eddie.”

The drive to the hospital goes quick and Eddie follows Buck to the entrance where a nurse is taking over.

“Alright sir, we gonna get you to a doctor so you can get checked out.”

Buck nods and looks at Eddie who’s still holding at the other mans elbow, making sure he’s not falling over or anything.

“Thanks for getting me here.”

Eddie blinks at him and realizes his hands are still on Bucks arm.

“Right, of course. Hope you’re ok and please listen to the doctors.”

Buck smiles and winks at him.

“I’m always alright, Eds.”

Eddie watches Buck and the nurse disappears through the ER doors. Buck called him Eds and Eddie secretly smiles at himself. He’s still staring at the doors when he feels a bump against his upper arm.

“Hey loverboy, you really need to call him. Everyone can see your hearteyes for him.”

Eddie scoffs and looks one last time at the ER doors where Buck has disappeared through.

He wants to call him.