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primofate · 3 years ago

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Genshin Shortfic: Death and Regrets Pt.2

Notes: Hi I’m back with more angst XD Please don’t kill me I just... I don’t know. Also, I made this a little meaner than the first two I wrote for. So... enjoy?

Warnings: crying, lots of ouch, even I feel ouch and I’m usually heartless guys, it just hurts, swearing and profanity. DEATH. GRAPHIC WOUNDS AND INJURIES. May not follow the lore. NO FLUFF/COMFORT.

Characters: Scaramouche, Kaeya x fem! reader

EXTRA NOTE: I STRUGGLED to write these. You know what’s so precious about our Genshin boys? It’s that for some of them it’s SO HARD to picture or write them as angry or plain nasty because they are just literal ANGELS

Other Versions: (Kazuha and Childe) (Thoma, Xiao, Diluc and Zhongli) (Itto, Gorou, Albedo)

Scaramouche

“Stop nagging me, do you know who you’re talking to?” Scaramouche was nasty when he was angry. There was no denying that. But today he had a murderous look in his eyes.

“I’m just worried that you’re pushing too hard, I--”

“Shut.it.” and then it happened. His lips moved. It didn’t even quite register in your mind what he had said until it echoed in your head. Over and over and over again.

“You’re replaceable!” like a sound bouncing off bathroom walls.

The argument that was once on your lips died. You could only stare at him and you see a flicker of something in his deep orbs. Then his face drops. Scaramouche was not one to apologize. He was not one to admit to making mistakes, but the blank stare you gave him told him that he had fucked up big time.

But he didn’t call for you when you left through the tent flap. You’d be back and he’d patch it up with you the same way that the two of you always did. With little subtle touches that he could offer as an apology. With him, although his words were always sharp, his actions could not betray him. He’d always show you apology through shy hugs and kisses.

“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue and went on his way to clear up some work given to him by the Tsaritsa. By the end of the day he’s left wondering why you weren’t back yet. He hadn’t moved the makeshift tent that he’d set up as camp.

“Sir,” one of his men stands outside the tent, Scaramouche answers. “What?” there was a moment of silence, and the man comes in with a stretcher behind him. A body covered. Scaramouche wasn’t fazed. He’d seen many a dead body before. The Tsaritsa always wanted troublesome people assassinated and he was the right person to do the job. He thought it was one of those.

So when his men puts the stretcher down on the ground and pulls the cover away from your cold body Scaramouche is struck in the gut. “What--What the fuck is this?” His face contorts to the earlier anger he had this morning. “S-Sir... We found her at the bottom of the mountains it seems that she slipped and--t-the mountains around here are really high and--”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

His men didn’t need to be told twice, they scramble out just as he falls on his knees next to you. “What the hell?” his eyes scan the scratches all over your body, the bruise on your face, the battered legs. There was no steady rise and fall of your chest. “WHAT THE HELL?!” he grips your tattered shirt. He doesn’t even notice the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Don’t mess with me,” he roughly pulls you by his grip on your shirt, but your head lolls back lifelessly. There’s a burn in his chest. He feels as if he’s going insane.

“Who the fuck said you could do this to me?!”

Me, it’s me. I said it. I did this.

He wants to scratch his face.

Scratch his eyes out.

Scratch his neck till it tears open.

But instead his mouth spills screams of fury. He stands only to trash everything around him. He swipes everything off of the table. He flings the chair across the tent. He upturns a table.

“I’ll fucking say it out loud if you want me to damn it,” he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’M SORRY!” he pulls at his hair as he crumples next to you again.

He had never felt such raw anger and he didn’t expect to feel it because of himself.

Kaeya

“It’s not a big deal, dear,” Kaeya reassures you. But sometimes his reassurances are just not enough. Sometimes you feel as if he doesn’t take your insecurities seriously.

“Saying it’s not a big deal doesn’t really solve it, Kaeya,” you say with a sigh, just slightly disappointed that he didn’t want to discuss it and just wanted to pass it off with that small remark.

He was silent for a moment, before it was his turn to sigh. He picked up both his hands in a shrug, “...You’re right Y/N, there are a lot of beautiful girls out there and I wouldn’t have to deal with their insecurity as much as I do with yours. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth, but in fear of saying something worse he closes it, and watches the expression on your face fall. It scares him more that you didn’t reply to his sentence and just silently walk away towards the door, it shutting with a soft thud.

He sighs and smacks a hand on his face as the door closes. He thought the best thing to give each other was time alone right now. To cool down and talk about it later.

Later never came.

Night fell and though he was 100% prepared to apologize and take you in his arms that night, tell you what he really thought of you. That you were beautiful and he sometimes felt undeserving of that. That, yes, there are other beautiful girls, but you were the only one he wanted. His sweet Y/N who always took care of him.

His sweet Y/N...skin and clothes charred and blackened from the fire bombs of treasure hoarders. He stood at the empty treasure hoarder camp after hours of looking for you.

He stood for a while looking down at your body.

That’s... not Y/N.

He tried to convince himself that the body was too burnt to be identified but mercy had actually left your face mostly clear of injuries.

It was you.

Still he’s frozen. Like his own cryo vision had backfired on him and started to encase his whole body. “Beautiful,” he whispered while kneeling down next to you. “I’ll tell you no matter how many times you want me to say it, you’re beautiful,” he lays a hand on your cheek and moves closer to look at your face.

He can’t even feel a thing. He’s gone numb.

“I don’t want all those other girls, they can’t see through me. They don’t see past my good looks,” he chuckles as if he’s actually talking to you, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I bet they won’t be able to put up with me the way you do, Y/N. They can’t smile the way that you do, or laugh the way that you do,”

In an act of desperation he pulls his eyepatch off. He has to see you with his own two eyes. “N-No one... will ever see me like this except you, Y/N.” Finally tears drip down his cheeks. “Can we start over? Can we just...” his hands claw at the ground, soil gathered in his fists. “Can someone just turn back time? It was a mistake, I didn’t--”

He recalls your crestfallen face. The way you silently walk out of the house, defeated by his words, and he finally loses it with wails.

“I don’t want those to be my last words to you!!!”

Taglist: @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @kimbapsana @leefletter @hentaje @tempehlust @rinnesy @hallohun @softlybeloved @volleybloop @ssalamanderr @ben6ett @rytszk @guilixi @reiluvbot @mondstadts-favourite-traveler @xxcrowfeatherxx @b-trld @mkazuyuh @shittyeditsofwhatiwant @ayra2452008 @simpingover @soft-like-sunshine @lnrchii @scheophi @multifandomgeeks @sacredmouche @risasblog01 @mai-m4i @foxxtrot-116 @maple-leaaf @lucy-roo @bluepinkpink @myday6-studies @thraiaiscrying @missbuwan @the-one-that-lurks @adeptitao @xibrokensunriseix @ilovemyleftboob @marblesphere @allinduetimethefirst @nortdreww @jjsjjsjsjsjjsjjs @how-simpy @loltartaglia @minyoustar @sesetiger @ghost1y-demon @lqvl3y @cysperia @candyqueen10 @ichigo-no-tsumi @omoriq @saving-for-xiao @trashykawasmilkbread @jjkclub @pearstear @seiiblue @midnightangelfox @korinkuu @heesocks @softlybeloved @bobaducky @normalisthenewnorm @how-simpy @atasi-luna @callariri @milkypompon

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#genshin angst #scaramouche angst #death #kaeya angst #scaramouche x reader #kaeya x reader #drabble #shortfic #genshin drabble #genshin shortfic #headcanon

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iamnmbr3 · 2 years ago

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You idiots are that dense and really think Ragnarok said loki is evil just because u hate that movie that much because u prefer the dark world? Wow ridiculous

loll. love how it's "idiots" plural here. i've been assigned plural pronouns by an anon. nonny, i know that my name on here has 3 in it but I am actually just one (1) idiot singular.

I don't think TR is bad bc I prefer TDW. I prefer TDW bc I think TR is bad. why would I come up with a preference first and then retroactively come up with reasons 2 justify it? that doesn't make sense.

as for the substance of your complaint (is it a complaint? I'm not really sure what response ur looking for here. i don't have a customer service line where i can apologize for having the wrong film preferences and refund the time u spent reading my blog. so uh sorry about that), I think TR is problematic for a number of reasons and portrays the characters in a very OOC way. it also systematically degrades and denigrates Loki's character and retcons his backstory (tho it's not nearly as awful as the Loki TV series).

it presents him in a consistently negative light and retcons him to have always been power hungry and shallow and treacherous when that wasn't the case in earlier movies. it presents loki as someone who has consistently been cruel and duplicitous to Thor for no reason and presents his grievances as petty and unfounded. it presents Thor as justified for standing over Loki and torturing him (which wouldn't be ok even if Loki WAS purely evil) and presents everything Thor says to him in that scene as a true and just summation of his character.

@nikkoliferous has compiled a compendium which goes thru the issues with TR much more thoroughly than I can do here. I also HIGHLY recommend the essay What Heroes Do: Queer-Coding, Slut-Shaming, and Heroism on a Trash Planet by @illwynd and @incredifishface to anyone who is interested. Anon, I know you weren't looking for reading recs (I don't think) but I do suggest you take a look at these. it might help you understand some of the issues ppl have with TR and maybe make you view those of us who disliked it as people with complex and diverse opinions that are grounded in our experiences and perceptions rather than just in a blind desire to hate on something you like to spite you or something.

#asks #thor ragnarok #TR critical #Marvel #MCU

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saintchrollo · 4 years ago

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hiii!! :) i was wondering if you can do a chrollo headcanon where his s/o gets kidnapped and he has to save them🥺♥️

omg hiiii nonnie i hope u enjoy .... i need 2 get back into writing action again huh ....

“tuesday” (chrollo x gn!reader)

tw for murder & blood

tuesday nights are date nights. they’ve been date nights since you got annoyed when you first started dating that chrollo was so unpredictable.

you had a standard place too, with a standard meal and a standard wine because the two of you love consistency (and each other)

chrollo normally picks you up before your date, but you had been insistent on taking the metro since you were coming from the opposite direction from him. and it was faster. and you had clearly stated in your text: i will desperately need the time to not interact with anyone and i am a responsible adult who has been taking the metro since i was a child i will be safe

and chrollo is a wiser man than to argue over something as silly as a metro ride, because you’re right. you’re responsible.

responsible and twenty minutes late.

chrollo checks your location, which has you at the nearest station, and waits. he waits for five minutes before checking again, and starts to worry when you haven’t moved.

leaving some jenny on the table, chrollo stands and heads out, two untouched glasses of wine on the table, and two water glasses quickly picking up condensation

he finds your phone has been turned in, going up to the woman behind the ticket booth and inquiring after it. she looks him up and down and goes “oh, i think i have a phone with your picture on the back!” and it’s your phone, with cracks on the screen and a polaroid of the two of you in the back.

it makes his stomach churn a little bit, bile threatening to rise because of how disgustingly in love he looks.

it doesn’t take long to find you after a quick text to shalnark, chrollo doesn’t trust himself to physically speak to anyone, and worries he might crush his phone in his hands.

it’s one of those bounties on his head, a group of bounty hunters trying to enter retirement early.

the apartment isn’t far from the station, and chrollo easily slips up to stand outside of the door. the tv is loud, echoing through the door.

clearing his throat, trying to suppress his bloodlust, chrollo bangs on the door

the tv turns down slightly, there’s scuffling, so many locks come undone before the door opens, the chain still holding it closed.

“can i help you?”

chrollo nods, looking relieved. “i'm locked out of my apartment and my phone’s dead, do you have a charger i can use? my girlfriend’s got a spare, i just need to tell her to come help me out.”

the man who answered the door looks a little nervous and glances over his shoulder, then back to chrollo.

“sorry, can’t. missus is really paranoid about who comes in her space. you know what it’s like.” he chuckles nervously and chrollo wonders how long the fool must have been at this.

“i get it,” chrollo says, sighing. “well, thanks for the help.”

"good luck!” the man says and right before he shuts the door, chrollo grabs the handle and the man’s forearm in a bruising grip, yanking him close and slamming the door on his shoulder joint. there’s a sickening pop and the man screams out in pain.

there’s panic on the other side of the room, and chrollo stops trying to hide his bloodlust.

“i think you’re looking for me,” chrollo whispers, low and dangerous. “if i open this door and i see one hair out of place on my lover, i will do whatever you did to them five thousand times over.”

fear smells so good.

the brass chain lock breaks with a slightly enhanced shove from chrollo. the inside of the apartment is filthy, covered in old takeout boxes. your kidnappers didn’t seem to live here permanently, there wasn’t even a couch.

the fight is so unbalanced, chrollo almost feels bad. almost. chrollo doesn’t remember the last time he slit a throat so fast. he doesn’t do it deep enough to kill the man immediately, and steps over his gurgling, pleading body.

he heads down the hall, moving slowly and stepping over trash that littered the halls.

the other kidnapper’s breathing is too heavy, there’s fear in every inhale. chrollo’s ears pick up on it, and with barely enough time to register her place in the apartment, chrollo turns and throws his knife, which impales itself into her forehead. she stumbles back, gasping, before crumpling to the floor.

and then the apartment is silent.

a moment of regret slides over chrollo. feitan would have appreciated the gifts, he thinks, but not even chrollo himself can raise the dead

he finds you in the bathtub, zipties on your wrists and ankles, your head lolled to the side, resting against the tile. you’re dressed for dinner, expensive clothes and no jewelry. chrollo leaves a mental note to himself to have someone come back and look for them.

his fingers immediately slide up under your jaw, pressing and trying to feel a pulse. he lets out an exhale of relief.

“you are the luckiest person i know,” chrollo whispers. he looks around the bathroom and finds a razor, quickly cutting your ties.

the small jostling is enough to bring you to your senses, inhaling sharply. you look so freaked out, looking around before your gaze lands on chrollo.

chrollo takes a deep breath, filling his lungs up all the way before he cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. he whispers your name like he’s repenting, thumb grazing over your cheekbone.

shaking, you reach out to touch chrollo’s shoulder, fisting his suit jacket. it takes a few moments before you slide to rest your head in the crook of his neck, and you can’t stop the tears that fall, spurred by terror and relief as every emotion under the sun coursed through your body.

and you’ve never heard chrollo apologize before-- it was always forehead kisses or new earrings or massages-- but he whispers an “i’m sorry,” in your ear, followed by promises about how this would never happen again, he wouldn’t let it.

𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒛 𝒐𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒂

#nonnie #mailbox #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #ophelia.hc #ophelia.fic #ophelia.req #ophelia.txt

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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ooo exciting !!! jungkook + romance/fluff + "kiss me" + e2l

Anonymous said: Can I request a fluffy jungkook fic with a touch of angst. Any AU you want and maybe a friends to lovers? Feel free to decline :)

Anonymous said: a fluffy “oh! you’re jealous” prompt with Jungkook pls? any au is fine☺️

Anonymous said: jungkook, prompt list 1 - #27: “Are you blushing?” :> i hope you have a lovely holiday season!!

Anonymous said: Friends to lovers!! Or enemies to lovers pls!! I love that shit

This is the most ambitious crossover of requests since Avengers lol jk.

↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised!

1.9k || 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || E2L, Huddle For Warmth!AU (sort of)

It started off with Jungkook coming out of nowhere and nearly scaring the living daylights out of you.

He laughed — that noisy sound that makes his nose scrunch — and you rolled your eyes, turning back around in the line. When the ski lift chair arrived, he asked if he could come too. You told him to kindly fuck off, but in the next second, he slid next to you, smiling widely.

It was too late for him to get off. Not when your feet was already lifted off the ground.

You don’t know why he’s so adamant about bothering you. If Taehyung didn’t tell you at the last minute that Jungkook was coming along, you would’ve just not come on this trip and ruin your winter break like this.

“Why didn’t you go with Sana?”

The ski lift is ascending upwards at an incline, moving past the coniferous trees and those skiing down the mountain beneath you. Luckily, it wasn’t too sunny or snowy out. But the air was still sharp with frost that’s long made your cheeks numb. Every exhale past your parted lips creates a cloud of condensation.

Jungkook’s thick brow lifts and he pushes his ski goggles up onto his head, on top of his blue beanie like yours. His doe eyes look at you. “Why would I go with her?”

You shoot him an incredulous expression. You don’t know why he’s playing dumb. “I thought you were trying to get cozy with her.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth slyly curls and he leans in. “Oh. You’re jealous.”

Instantly, your face contorts into a disgusted expression and a boyish laugh bubbles out of him.

“I would,” he says, “but she already has a boyfriend.”

“She does?”

Jungkook hums. “Some guy two years older than us, majoring in finance.”

Oh. You didn’t know that.

Suddenly it sinks in that you’re having an actual conversation with Jungkook. One where he’s being a cocky asshole only a tiny amount and you can actually bear through it. It almost feels like you’re….friends.

But right as the thought comes to mind, the ski lift chair halts and momentarily swings. You jolt, looking at the chair ahead of you that’s frozen as well before turning around. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Everyone is seemingly as confused as you are. “It looks like we’re stuck.”

You groan. “Oh shit.”

Five minutes later, Taehyung comes wandering underneath you. He stands by a tree on the sidelines and cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I finally found you guys!”

“Taehyung!” You shout back at him. “What’s going on?!”

“Well, I was looking around for ages and Jimin wanted to give up since he thought you went down to the lodge and I told him no way—”

“Dude!” Jungkook shrieks and you wince at the sheer volume of his voice. “We get it!”

You remember why he grinds on your nerves so badly. Everything Jeon Jungkook does just irritates you. Including the fact that he was currently trying to burst your eardrums.

“Right! Sorry! They said it would be fixed in half an hour! Hang in there!” Taehyung fist pumps the air with a rectangular grin as if it’s enough to encourage the two of you and you sigh loudly.

“Whelp.” Jungkook settles back into his seat. “Looks like we won’t die.”

“Great.”

“Are you cold?”

You turn to the boy, surprised that he’s actually considerate enough to—

“We could always get naked, you know,” he adds, shattering the image of him that had curated in your mind for point two seconds and it flees as quickly as it came. “To converse heat.”

Your mouth opens, speechless. You shake your head. “Right when I thought you were being nice to me for once.”

Jungkook grins unabashedly. “I am being nice. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt like this with anyone else and if you ask me, I think it’s working too.” The bastard leans in and you lean backwards to keep more distance. He bats his pretty lashes. “Are you blushing?”

You deadpan, “It’s literally negative thirty degrees out.”

He laughs again.

The both of you get comfortable, laying your ski poles across your laps, and looking out at the snowy mountain landscape that’s all too peaceful. Or at least until you feel a poke through your puffed jacket.

You look down to find Jungkook handing you a heat pack from his pocket. “It’s not much but it might help.”

“....Thanks.”

Strangely, the guy doesn’t brag about how kind he is or how much you should appreciate the gesture. He simply starts to hum to kill time. It’s soothing. Kind of nice to listen to even.

You enjoy it until he abruptly stops and asks— “Why do you hate me so much?”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Jungkook smiles and it’s somehow reminiscent of a rabbit. “What? Nothing like confronting people when they’re trapped in a spot with nowhere to run, right? Plus, this is a good opportunity to be reflective, don’t you think?”

You scoff, not sure where to begin. But there’s no reason why you should spare him from the truth of why you grew to have such a strong distaste for him. If he wants to know, you’ll happily let him know.

“How about for never calling me back after you slept with me? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Jungkook’s head whirls over. The bomb’s been dropped.

You feel his stare on your profile. It goes deathly quiet.

It’s the biggest resentment you held against him, what made his cocky attitude even uglier to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so angry. It wasn’t like he vowed anything would happen afterwards. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be a no-strings attachment thing. But it wasn’t like that for you.

Jungkook acted interested when you first met. He sweet-talked you. He led you to believe there would be something more. And when there wasn’t— well, the rest is history.

You wonder if Jungkook’s shriveling up and cringing for asking in the first place or if he’s remotely ashamed. You hope he is. It serves him right. The audacity he has to talk to you casually after ghosting you so brutally like that is insulting. You wonder how he’ll respond, if he’ll regret bringing the subject up, if he’ll try to conjure some kind of half ass apology—

“Because you never gave me your number.”

This time, your neck snaps towards him. Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering.

“You’re the one who ditched me,” he says. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“I wrote you a note. On a napkin on the dresser.”

The man, in the blue snowboard jacket and black ski pants, frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“Then I never saw it.”

It’s easy for Jungkook to lie. One of his many talents is his pretty lips that has easy words rolling off his tongue like butter. But by his expression, the slight pout of his mouth, the furrow of his brows, you can tell he’s being genuine. There isn’t any facade, any flirtation.

“I would’ve remembered if I saw it cause that morning Taehyung woke me up and he never wakes up before me. But he was whining because of his allergies and needed me to run to the pharmacy—”

The pair of you go silent.

It dawns on you both.

Kim Taehyung.

Knowing Taehyung and his godforsaken allergies, he must’ve taken the napkin and sneezed right into it. He probably threw it in the trash or took it with him and crumpled it into his hand. God fucking dammit.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes rounded at the realization.

You shift uncomfortably. The possibilities of what-if storm your mind. What if Jungkook saw it, what if he texted you or called you afterwards like he promised. What if you didn’t meet again on accident through Taehyung but continued the communication yourselves. Could he be sitting here next to you as someone more in your life?

But you brush the thoughts away as it overwhelms you.

“That’s funny,” you pipe up, mustering some stiff laughter, breaking the silence. “At least we solved one mystery.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s cold.” You wrap your arms around you. “We should stop talking and conserve heat.”

Jungkook nods and the pair of you quiet down. But without conversation, time drags on slower.

You peek a look at him and instead of being deep in thought like you thought he’d be, Jeon Jungkook is looking around, blinking with his doe eyes, the black strands from his bangs nearly pricking into them. He’s completely nonchalant and you internally sigh to yourself.

You’re not sure what you were expecting.

Jungkook is Jungkook.

That note on the dresser probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Y/N.” He speaks up a minute later.

“What?”

“You know how we could keep warm?”

“What.”

“Kiss me.”

You could not roll your eyes harder.

An enormous grin spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks, irises twinkling from the snow’s refraction. The little shit has too much fun annoying you and he jumps at the chance to continue to egg you on, “Why? Too scared to? Think you might fall in love with me now that we cleared the air and you don’t hate me anymore?”

He bats his lashes exaggeratedly.

You scoff. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Then why not?”

Your head spins around to face him, momentarily taken aback at how he’s a few inches away but you conceal your expression just as quick. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on this terrible joke. “Why? Do you want me to kiss you?”

Jeon Jungkook’s grin taunts you.

You loll your head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits. “You think I won’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to improve the mood.” He sits back and shrugs, having too much fun watching your explosive reactions. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you. You’re a dog with all bark but no bite, Y/N. I know you too well.”

Your jaw clenches at the challenge. At his mocking tone. At the bastard’s audacity.

And just to prove him wrong, you grab Jungkook’s face in your hands and turn him towards you. In one breath, you aggressively slam your mouth against his. It almost hurts. Your teeth nearly clash. But you barely feel anything with your numb lips except for how chapped his lips are.

It’s a brief kiss, but enough to prove yourself.

You pull away with a cocked brow and small smirk, relishing in his wholly stunned expression.

At that same moment, the ski lift jolts and starts to move again. Someone behind you cheers.

“You don’t know me at all, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur softly, seductively and with the smirk still plastered on your features. The unloading zone approaches, so you move the safety bar, stand up from the ski lift chair and glide away.

Jungkook’s delayed, but follows after you helplessly a second later. You turn around while you still have the chance and he stares at you, blinking owlishly.

“If you want to make me blush or get jealous, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than you have been, Jeon. You should probably work on your kissing skills too. Staying like a dead fish isn’t appealing to me.”

You glide away on your skis before he can get another word in. In the meanwhile, a grin slowly spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks and he decides to accept your challenge.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook reader insert #jungkook scenario #bts fluff #bts reader insert #Anonymous #Jimlings

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bigballofstress · 4 years ago

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Pickpocket Part 2(Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: After Clint takes you back to Avengers tower, the rest of the Avengers realize who you are, and most of them are not very happy with you. It’s certainly an interesting conversation when you wake up, but slowly, they start to warm up to you.

Tell me if you want a third part, guys! Part one here

To @prepareforsomestrangethings @captainam-erika-trash @bxtchboy69 @creation-magician @viarogers @queenshadow142003 @witchxaf I know I’ve said this already, but seriously, I can’t thank you guys enough for everything. I love you all!

The living room went completely silent at the arrival of the two master assassins, everyone staring at the little bundle in their resident archer’s arms.

“Lady Natasha, Brother Clint, you have returned!” Thor, who had just returned to Earth from Asgard, shouted gleefully as he walked towards them, completely oblivious to the awkward atmosphere that had appeared in the room and asking the question that was on everybody’s minds but which they weren’t quite sure how to go about asking. “Who is the young maiden in your arms?”

“She tried to rob Clint and then fainted, so we brought her back here,” Natasha stated bluntly. Clint glared at her in frustration before turning back to the others, who were already on guard.

“The kid was starving,” he attempted to explain. “I think she passed out from hunger.” The others in the room glanced at the bundle of coats, still obviously wary, and Clint rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, the poor thing weighs next to nothing, and she’s freezing to the touch. I’m pretty sure the coat is heavier than she is.”

“Lay her down on the coach. I’ll grab some blankets,” Steve finally piped up. Clint sighed in relief and brought her over to the very long couch where he gently set her down, resting her head on one of the throw pillows. He brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, frowning when she still felt colder than a block of ice.

“Let me take a look at her,” Bruce offered. Clint nodded in thanks and stepped back. Bruce paused, his eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked, his stomach turning in worry. Was he too late? Was she already gone?

“That’s the girl from the library.” Everyone froze at the words that fell out of Bruce’s mouth.

“No frickin’ way, let me see,” Tony rushed forward, peering over the back of the couch. “Oh my god, she’s the kid who took my watch! It really was the same girl!”

“And the one who stole my money,” Steve added, setting the pile of blankets down next to her before moving to start a fire in the nearby fireplace.

“Well, I guess that solves that mystery,” Tony crossed his arms. “She couldn’t have been actually starving. There’s no way that watch sells for anything under 2,000. She lied to you so you wouldn’t turn her in.”

Clint shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. She’d already gotten away when she fainted.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Alright, so then she stashed it to sell later so she wouldn’t be caught.”

“If you had a 2,000 dollar watch lying around, why would you ever wear a ratty old coat that obviously doesn’t even keep the cold out?” Natasha commented thoughtfully, gesturing at the flimsy piece of clothing.

That seemed to knock Bruce from his thoughts. “She’s soaking wet, we need to get her out of these clothes. Nat, do you have anything she could wear?” Natasha nodded and silently left the room to fetch the clothing as Bruce started to peel off the soaked-through layers one by one until she was left in just a t-shirt and sweatpants, both littered with holes and tears and both obviously far too short for her but still loose against her skeletal frame. Natasha took the job from there, exchanging the old clothing for a pair sweats, which despite being a size small, seemed to drown the girl in fabric before covering her in the blankets and moving her closer to the fire.

After that, everyone settle down around the living room, each of them seeming to understand the unspoken agreement that they would wait to decide what on what they would do next until after she woke up. So, that’s how they stayed for the next 2 hours.

-- Your POV --

I slowly cracked my eyes open, the light flooding in and immediately giving me a headache. Huh, I guess I didn’t die. That’s a good thing, right?

I brought a hand to my forehead as I slowly sat up, my eyes shut tight as I did my best not to throw up. God, I was so hungry. At least I wasn’t cold anymore, though. Maybe it’s just that I’ve gone completely numb... or crazy, because instead of just not being cold, I actually feel pretty warm.

I opened my eyes again and stared down at the blanket covering me and the couch I was sitting on. Oh geez that can’t be good. I looked back up and around, doing my best to stay completely silent as my eyes flickered from one person to the next.

The man I had robbed only just a few hours ago sat in a chair right in front of the couch, snoring softly with his head lolled back. At a table nearby, typing away on a computer, was the man from the library who only had 4 dollars in his wallet. Sitting at the same table was a very big, very muscular man with long blonde hair who I’d never seen before, but judging by the massive hammer that was placed beside him, I doubted he was good news. Standing at the kitchen sink was the man who’d stopped me from falling when I was taking his wallet. Sitting behind a bar, nursing a glass of what looked to be scotch, was Tony freaking Stark, who I had only just stolen a very, very expensive watch from. Finally, standing by the doorway and leaning against the wall was the red-headed woman who found me out and chased me down with her boyfriend. And she was making direct eye-contact with me.

“She’s up,” she called, shocking everyone in the room -- especially the man in the chair, who must have jumped about a foot in the air as he was startled awake. I clenched my jaw and frowned. What is it with this chick and always ratting me out?

Before you could say the word ‘Assemble,’ all six people in the room had gathered around me. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I stared from one person to the next. Why were all the people I robbed together in one place? Did Tony Stark bring them all together so they could get revenge on me? How did they even find me? Is that blonde one a bounty hunter or something? He certainly had the build for it.

“How are you feeling?” The man from earlier asked me gently. I frowned and stared back at him. No way was I going to talk to these people. I have the right to remain silent, right? Or is that not a thing with elaborate revenge plots?

The library man stepped forward and placed a hand on my forehead. Immediately, I flinched away. “Her fever’s gone down,” he said, stepping back into place, the slight anger he still held towards me clear in his voice.

I glanced around the room, weighing my options. I had no idea where I was, no idea how to get out of here, and I don’t think I could outrun the redhead and her boyfriend again on solid ground, especially when I can still barely move without another wave of dizziness hitting me. So, in other words, I’d have to somehow convince them to let me go.

Ok, yeah, I’m definitely gonna die.

“Do you have a name?” Reflexes guy asked, and my frown deepened. Maybe I could pretend to have lost my memory. Library guy said something about a fever, right? If it was bad enough, it could’ve messed with my brain. Plus, they have no way of knowing how long I had it. Alright, that’s my game plan for now. A pitiful, helpless amnesiac.

Slowly, I shook my head, bringing my knees to my chest as I stared at him with wide eyes.

“How about an age? Do you know how old you are?” This time, it was the boyfriend who spoke. I liked him way better. He had a kind voice, and he didn’t really seem to be holding too big a grudge against me. He was probably dragged to this weird revenge party by the redhead.

I shook my head again, allowing my body to shake ever so slightly, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Alright, cut the crap, kid. Tell me where my watch is,” Stark took a few steps forward. My eyes went wide, and I scrambled backwards in an attempt to get away from him, my heart going a mile a minute as my breathing got faster and faster.

“Quit it, Stark, you’re scaring her,” the boyfriend snapped. Stark huffed and rolled his eyes, moving back to his place in the semi-circle with his arms crossed. Yeah, I definitely like the boyfriend best.

“Do you remember nothing, child?” Blondie boomed. I flinched at the volume, hiding my face in my arms and sobbing quietly.

It was quiet for a little bit, and I smiled. They must’ve felt guilty, which meant they believed me. Maybe I could pull this off after all.

“Alright, kid, that’s enough. Stop messing with them.”

“What? Nat, what are you--”

“Seriously, you’ve had your fun, now stop it with the crocodile tears and tell us your name.” I slowly peaked up to find the redhead -- Nat, apparently -- smirking back down at me, her right hip jutted out as she rested her weight on it and her arms crossed. She merely lifted an eyebrow at me, her smirk widening ever so slightly.

I sighed and lifted my head. “How did you know?” I asked softly. The men in the room gaped at me in surprise, while she only chuckled a bit.

“I lie all the time, kid, it’s part of my job. I know another good liar when I see one,” she answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Now are you gonna tell us your name or not?”

I frowned and hugged my knees tighter. “It wasn’t all a lie. I really was scared,” I muttered, staring down at my lap. “It’s not exactly fun to wake up in a place you don’t know and immediately have people coming at you or yelling really, really loud.”

Stark glanced away guiltily while Blondie just sent me a wide, toothy grin. “My apologies, child. I have yet to truly understand this ‘indoor voice’ that you mortals are so fascinated by!” I flinched slightly at the still very loud voice, but at least it wasn’t quite as loud as before.

“Name, kid,” Nat stated simply, immediately seeing through my attempt at changing the subject to try and make them feel guilty again.

I sighed. “My name is (Y/N),” I finally muttered.

“Have you got a last name, (Y/N)?” Reflexes asked again.

“Not any that concerns you,” I immediately snapped back defensively.

Reflexes frowned and rubbed his face a bit. “Fine, we’ll go back to that later. How old are you?”

“18,” the lie came quickly and easily. I had said it so many times that by that point, it was starting to feel more natural than the truth.

“Try again,” Nat said.

I grit my teeth and glared at her. “You really need to stop ratting me out.” She just smirked and shrugged again. “Fine. I’m 12.”

Silence as five pairs of shocked eyes turned to Nat for confirmation. Slowly, she nodded, almost seeming a little shocked herself. My words took a minute to settle in, and I frowned, staring back down at my lap. At least now they probably couldn’t kill me. Although, I’d probably prefer that to going back to that hellhole of a foster home.

“Nope, sorry, I call bs,” Stark was the one to break the silence. “No chance a twelve-year-old reads nuclear physics, and more importantly, there’s not a single chance a twelve-year-old outsmarts me.”

“Yeah, that’s what every grown-up says,” I rolled my eyes. “The fact is, you got completely fooled by a twelve-year-old kid, and you need to learn how to deal with it.”

“Alright, so where’s my watch?” Stark grit his teeth, fuming in annoyance at my attitude.

I rolled my eyes again. “I sold it,” I answered simply.

“Ok, so why did you lie to Clint? That watch was expensive. There’s no way you would be starving only a month after you sold it,” Stark smirked triumphantly, as though he had just unearthed some massive conspiracy.

“I didn’t keep the money.”

“...I’m sorry, what?” Stark asked.

“I said, I didn’t keep the money,” I repeated.

“Then where the hell did it go?” he frowned. He obviously didn’t believe me.

“Language, Stark,” Reflexes cut in. “She’s just a kid.”

“Please, I’ve heard the word ‘hell’ before. What street did you think I was living on, Candycane Lane?” I scoffed before suddenly realizing my mistake.

“You live on the streets?” Library guy asked softly, looking more and more guilty with every passing minute.

“Of course not,” I responded quickly, trying to backpedal on what I’d accidentally let slip. “I just hate my parents so much it feels like it. I only steal so that I can rebel against them.”

“That lie was just bad,” Nat shook her head almost in disappointment.

“(Y/N), what happened to the money from Stark’s watch?” the boyfriend -- What did Stark say his name was? Clint? -- spoke calmly and gently.

“I used it to buy toys and canned foods,” I answered rather quickly. He was nice. I felt comfortable around him.

“You were starving, and you bought toys?” Stark scoffed.

“Not for me, dipshit,” I rolled my eyes again. I feel like I do that every time Stark opens his mouth.

“Language!” Reflexes gasped.

“Why did you buy toys?” Clint continued to speak gently, taking my attention away from my annoyance at Stark.

I frowned. “I bought them for the kids at the orphanage.” Clint just nodded, encouraging me to continue. “Every year I scrape together what money I don’t use on food to buy them toys, but they usually end up being really crummy ones that they all have to share. This year, I was finally able to buy them all really good ones.” I paused for a moment before adding, “Christmas can be really sad there, and there never used to be any toys. I don’t want the other kids to have a sad Christmas anymore.”

“You used to live in an orphanage?” Clint asked. I winced at the question, digging my nails into my palms. I didn’t mean to tell them that. I sighed in defeat and nodded slightly, avoiding their eyes.

“My mommy died when I was one, and my daddy didn’t want me anymore,” I paused a moment, trying and failing to swallow the lump in my throat. Quickly, I moved myself as far away from the topic as possible. “I used the money I didn’t spend on toys to buy groceries for the homeless shelter. They need it more than I do anyways.”

There was another heavy pause before Clint spoke again. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything?”

“Counting today?” They all nodded. “About five days.”

Reflexes immediately walked away, and I ducked my head further. He was probably going to call the cops or maybe the orphanage. Either way I’d have to go back.

“(Y/N)?” Library guy’s voice brought me back to reality.

My cheeks were wet. I was crying. I didn’t mean to do that -- it doesn’t work on Nat, so why even bother? Still, I couldn’t stop. “A-are you g-gonna send m-me b-back n-now?” I whispered, my voice thick as I gasped between every other word. I squeezed my knees tight to my chest and let out a sob that I was trying desperately to hold back. “P-please... I don’t... I don’t wanna go back!” I broke down sobbing, my face buried in my arms and my breaths coming shorter and shorter as my heart pounded frantically against my ribs.

I couldn’t breathe.

I felt like I was under water, each breath coming in harsher and more labored than the last, the air growing thicker by the second as I struggled to take it in. I could hardly feel the tears on my cheeks as my brain begged me to take a solid breath, screaming at me that I was dying -- that I needed to stop this right now, or I would die, which of course only made me panic even more.

I felt a pair of arms gently wrap around me and slowly looked up, hiccupping softly, my entire body shaking like a leaf. I stared at Tony Stark from where he sat beside me. “Calm down, purse snatcher, no one’s sending you anywhere,” he said, rubbing my back comfortingly. “I need you to focus on me. Try and match my breaths, ok?”

“P-promise me you’re not lying,” I mumbled from my still mostly curled up position. “Promise I won’t have to go back.”

“I promise I will never lie to you,” he responded immediately. I sniffled, my bottom lip trembling as I stared at him, searching for any signs of a lie. When I found none, I launched forward into his lap and buried my face in his chest, sobbing pathetically. “Easy, kid. You’re ok. In and out, just like me, ok? In... and out,” Tony soothed, gently patting my back as I cried. His arms were warm. It was surprising, but still, it was really, really nice. Slowly, I came back down to reality, each breath shaking violently but still managing to keep time with his. Finally, after a few minutes, I’d managed to calm myself down.

A very large hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked over, my body still shaking a bit as I clung to Tony like a lifeline. Reflexes was standing there, holding a plate full of steaming hot pizza.

“You need to eat,” he said, moving the plate closer to me. I nodded and took it, my hands still shaking slightly.

“Thank you, Reflexes,” I said softly.

“Reflexes?” he tilted his head a bit.

“O-oh, um... When I met you, you managed to catch me after I bumped into you, even though I was trying to fall, so I’ve kind of been calling you Reflexes in my head ever since...” I muttered, my face getting red.

Reflexes stared at me for a moment. I could feel Tony laughing behind me as the others struggled not to laugh out loud. “You can just call me Steve,” he sighed.

“That’s right, you don’t know our names yet, do you?” Tony grinned. I turned to look at him, only just then realizing that I was still sitting on his lap.

I blushed harder and scooted off his lap, muttering a quick, “Sorry.”

Tony smiled back in reassurance, although he looked a little... disappointed? No, wait, that’s stupid. Of course he wasn’t disappointed; he’s Tony Stark. That look was probably just the leftover annoyance at having some dumb kid crying in his lap. “Don’t mention it, kid, but you gotta tell me what you’ve been calling the rest of us in that little head of yours.”

“U-um... well, I called Steve ‘Reflexes,’ and, um, Nat was ‘Redhead’. Clint was ‘Boyfriend’...” Clint choked on thin air, and Tony bursted out laughing again, not even making an attempt to hide it this time.

“W-why ‘Boyfriend’?!” Clint yelped.

“Because you were on a date with your girlfriend, um, Nat, when we met?” I said it almost like a question. Was there something wrong with that?

“She’s not my girlfriend, kid,” Clint sighed, shaking his head. He didn’t seem quite as bothered anymore, though. Was there really something wrong with me calling him ‘Boyfriend’?

“Ok, now tell me the rest,” Tony said excitedly, leaning forward.

I leaned back a bit but nodded. “Ok, well the guy with the glasses--”

“Call me Bruce,” he interrupted.

“Um, Bruce then. He was ‘Library Guy.’”

“Oh, that’s right, you recommended he read his own paper,” Tony grinned.

“Yeah exactly,” I smiled softly before, slowly, my smile dropped and my eyes grew about 3 sizes. “Wait, you don’t mean...” I turned to face Bruce in disbelief. “You aren’t that Bruce. As in, Bruce Banner? The nuclear physicist?”

Bruce chuckled a bit and rubbed the nape of his neck. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

I gaped, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. “I’m such a big fan,” I whispered softly.

“Wait, so you mean you actually understood those papers? That wasn’t just another lie?” Bruce frowned slightly.

“I would never lie about that,” I shook my head frantically. “Your work is absolutely incredible. I used to get lashed all the time cause I’d stay up all night reading your papers.”

A flash of pity crossed his face. I frowned and cleared my throat. “I, um, I always really like learning new things,” I muttered awkwardly. “When I was little, I would spend hours in that library every day. My caretaker didn’t believe I actually understood it, either. She even got me tested to prove I was lying.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“Turns out I have an IQ of about 278,” I shrugged. Tony’s jaw dropped, staring at me with eyes wide as saucers.

“Isn’t yours 273?” Bruce asked, trying to hide the chuckle threatening to seep through his voice.

“I-I... Well... Just tell us the rest of the nicknames, would ya, kid?” Tony stuttered, avoiding Bruce’s eyes.

“Oh, um, sure,” I smiled a bit. It felt like my chest filled up a bit, a soft warmth spreading through my heart. They looked like a family. It must be so nice. “The super buff blonde guy--”

“Thor,” Tony provided.

I blinked in shock at that. “Wow, your parents must’ve been real confident to name you after one of the Norse gods,” I muttered. “Well, Thor’s name was just ‘Blondie.’”

Tony snickered at my comment, and I frowned. Were these nicknames really funny? I didn’t think they were.

“Child, I was not named after anyone. I am Thor of Asgard. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he smiled, taking a knee before me. I lifted an eyebrow and leaned over to Tony.

“Is he crazy..?” I asked softly.

Tony chuckled. “No, he’s not. Haven’t you ever heard of the Avengers?” I shook my head. “Woah, seriously? Ok, well, long story short, he is the actual Norse god, Thor, and he lives on the planet Asgard.”

I looked at him curiously before nodding. “Alright.”

“Seriously? You believe me just like that?” Tony asked, a small, if slightly confused, smile on his face.

“You promised me you’d never lie to me,” I answered simply. “Of course I believe you.”

Tony opened his mouth and closed it again, a look I’d never seen decorating his features. I shook my head just a bit to clear it and grabbed the piece of pizza on top before immediately shoving it in my face, managing to scarf it down in under 10 seconds before moving onto the next. The six adults stared at me as I finished piece after piece until the plate was empty only 2 minutes later. I glanced up and smiled slightly. “Thank you for the food,” I mumbled through the last mouthful of pizza.

“Wow, ok, I’m not gonna lie, kid, that was pretty impressive,” Tony chuckled. “I don’t even think bird brain over here could eat that fast.”

“How do you keep people from stealing your food, then?” I asked, tilting my head slightly to the side. The room fell silent again, the adults sending me worried glances. I frowned and ducked my head again, trying to avoid their searing gazes. I must’ve said something wrong again.

“Honestly, we don’t. How do you think Thor got so big?” Tony grinned, clearly just trying to diffuse the tension. I smiled up at him gratefully.

“Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for today,” Tony said, standing up. “Sorry, kid, but it’s way past your bedtime.” I tensed up a bit at the sudden movement, and he sent me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I’m just taking you to a guest room.”

I nodded and took his hand, standing up slowly. I held the loose clothing tightly so that it didn’t drop, trying to ignore the many worried eyes that looked over my still ever so slightly shaking, thin figure that couldn’t even hold up the small pair of sweatpants. I followed him down one of the many hallways of the tower, gripping his hand as tightly as I could.

Finally, we reached a large room, a neatly made bed stationed in the middle of it. I tried to climb into the bed, but Tony ended up having to boost me up, his hands lifting me gently by my underarms so that I could get on top of the unreasonably tall mattress before tucking me in under the thick blankets.

He took a step back, and my heart immediately leapt into my throat, my hand darting out to grab his wrist. “It’s ok, I’m just turning out the lights,” he answered the question without me even having to ask. As soon as he had flicked the switch off, he came back and sat down in a large chair by the bed. It was silent for a moment, and I stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking over everything that happened in the past few hours. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he do all of this? What did he have to gain from giving me food and a place to sleep?

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I heard my own voice rise up through the darkness. I’m not quite sure why I asked that. Still, I wanted nothing more than to hear the answer.

“You remind me of myself,” Tony said slowly, the careful thoughtfulness clear in his voice. “You’re a good kid. You deserve a little bit of help.”

It was silent for another few minutes.

“Would you... would you please hold me hand?” I asked softly. I’d barely even finished speaking before my right hand was engulfed my another, much larger one. I could feel myself smile just a bit, my eyes fluttering closed. I squeezed it slightly, and before long, I had fallen asleep to the sound of Tony’s breathing.

#avengers #avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x y/n #avengers x child!reader

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

Drowning is amazing! Please continue!!!

Thank you! I am glad that you like it!

And I wrote it. It's a late post though, sorry.

Drowning Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

@shydragonrider

Warnings: feverish whumpee, drugged whumpee, head trauma mention, pneumonia, pills (antibiotics), exhaustion, betrayal, talk of medical settings, mentions of attempted murder, anxiety, thoughts of anticipated retribution, nightmares

Hero scrambled to her feet, nervousness eating at her stomach. There was Villain, standing six feet tall and raging with anger, in her doorway. Not only did he look like he just went on a killing frenzy, he had a knife.

A knife and a true intent to kill.

"Villain," Hero cautioned, approaching the tall man. He glared, snarling down at Hero.

"I know you have him, Hero," he said, not even acknowledging Hero's quiet plea to step down. "Now, where is he before I bomb the place."

Hero noted that he still had a hospital gown on. His right forearm had blood dripping down it- the remnants of where he had ripped the IV out. The side of his head was still stitched up and hued in a deep royal purple shade. His damaged right eye was swollen, but not nearly as bruised as his temple.

"Where is he!" Villain hollered again and rushed at Hero. He stumbled a little bit and swayed as if a dense feeling of nausea washed over him- and considering the state of the villain's head, she wouldn't be surprised if he was indeed nauseous.

"He isn't here," Hero lied, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it.

"I know you took him home with you," Villain clenched his jaw, the bruise pulsating. "Why else wouldn't you visit me earlier?"

"Villain, I did visit you earlier," Hero tried to reason. "Remember?"

"No, no, no," Villain shook his head. "Only doctors and needles and fogginess and..." His voice trailed off ad his gaze darkened. "Not you."

"I'm sorry," Hero apologized, grabbing the villain's hands. She felt the knife loosening, but Villain didn't let go. Both breathed deeply, trying to calm themselves. Hero couldn't afford to get protective- if that was the correct word- and if Villain blew up again, by golly she would be.

But, the villain was obviously on another page. He suddenly punched Hero in the stomach, jabbed her jaw with the hilt, and lumbered into the house.

Hero doubled over, panting for breath as she tried to reorientate herself. After a good minute of puffing out breaths, she followed Villain.

She found him slamming his hip into her bedroom room. Instinctively, Hero lept on top of him, pulling him back. Thoughts rushed through her head. She had no means of restraints other than a pair of handcuffs in the bathroom cabinet- don't ask. She didn't even have a good enough room to lock such an explosive person in.

She had to take the handcuff route and somehow lead the maniac into the bathroom. Linking her arms around Villain's armpits, she attempted to drag the thrashing man down the hall, but, half-drugged and injured or not, he was still much taller and much bigger. He dug his heels deep into the hardwood floor and grit his teeth. He was going to kill Supervillain if it was the last thing he would do, and nothing, not even someone like Hero would stop him.

He yanked himself out of Hero's grasp and face planted into a wall, knocking down a sunset painting that Hero herself did. He weakly tried to use his arms to push himself back up, but they trembled and collapsed under his weight.

Hero returned her arms back to the position that caused Villain so much strife and dragged him. The villain had clearly exhausted himself to the point of compliance, so it really was an effortless task. She brought him to the bathroom, leaned his now lolling head against the baby blue wall and grabbed her horribly placed handcuffs. Putting them on deftly, she crouched down next to Villain.

"You are supposed to be in the hospital, you know," she lightly scolded him.

"I know," came the reply, so timid that Hero couldn't even correspond the rabid wolf that entered her den with the completely subdued fawn resting in her bathroom. His eyes were closing, too weary to stay open.

"Let's go get some sleep," Hero offered and pulled Villain to his shaky feet. But as she led him to the door, she noticed that he would not be able to make it to the living room without collapsing, so she scooped him up. Now that he was just hanging there limply, it was easy- there wasn't a fight, just complete and utter trust to allow the other to care for the wounded and exhausted one.

Once Villain was settled upon the couch, sleeping soundly, Hero went back upstairs to check on Supervillain. Unlocking the door with the key that worked for every lock, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Hero scrunched up her nose. After spending sometime in fresh, lavender scented air, the revolting scent of sickness and sweat was like a trash can that had to be taken out to the curb.

But nonetheless, she walked over to the unconscious supervillain. His face was even paler, signifying that his fever spiked again, and he was shivering profoundly. She tossed another blanket over him and performed the hourly task of slipping the thermometer under his tongue. It beeped and like everytime, it revealed a nerve-wracking temperature.

Hero ran her hand through the grimey hair with a sigh and knelt down next to him. He was getting worse. Heck, he hardly looked like he was breathing, yet the consistent rise and collapse of his chest proved otherwise. Silent whimpers slipped through barely parted lips, a little trail of saliva streamed over parched lips. Eyes were closed, but barely. Hero could see distressed pupils shifting about as placid facial expressions contorted into ones of utter misery and pain.

"Hey," Hero whispered, grabbing his boiling hand. It didn't nothing to stop the unconscious torture Supervillain was enduring. His breaths sped up and he started to outwardly gasp, but never awoke.

"Supervillain?" Hero's voice was risen in pitch. "Hey, now. Wake up for me." She shook him, tapped repeatedly at his flushed cheeks, but nothing seemed to work.

Until he bolted up screaming.

No. Screaming was not the correct word for the desperate screech that tore itself away from Supervillain's face. It filled every crevice of the room- possibly even the house- with the haggard voice of terror. It made Hero cringe, her tired body jumping backwards. After the screaming festival was over with, Supervillain resumed a crying sound. Sobs turned into coughs as the sick man dealt with both illness from the pneumonia and whatever fear drove him into such a defensive fright.

Hero wrapped her arm around Supervillain, lethargically seating herself next to him. He turned his body over and pressed his face into Hero's side, relishing in the warming comfort it brought with a contented sigh. Soon after, he fell back asleep, mouth parting to draw in more precious oxygen.

Hero leaned against the pillow, allowing her ward to sleep cuddled up to her. Her own eyelids drooped, reminding her of the dire need to sleep. She contemplated sleeping next to the supervillain, but once Villain awoke it would be a catastrophe. Yet, the instinctual pull towards the awaiting slumber was too hard to resist. Hero scooted down into a more comfortable position, pulled Supervillain onto her chest and fell asleep next to him.

It was sometime before she felt something move beside her. Hero blearily opened her eyes- still heavy with left over sleep- to find Supervillain awake, still hugging her, but staring at something by the foot of the bed. At first Hero brushed it off as another feverish hallucination, but then she saw a shadow move.

Her eyes opening all the way, Hero's head darted to where her other unplanned guest was leisurely standing, using his knife to pick at his nails. Didn't she remove that toy from him?

"What did I say?" Villain asked, pressing his palms into the bedrail. "I say: you are housing Supervillain. No, she replies, blushing the entire time. And then what do I find? The criminal mastermind himself sleeping over the little princess with the tiara. Figures." Villain rolled his eyes, or his eye because the other was still sealed shut by the purple tarp that obscured the machine of sight from the world.

"I-i couldn't just leave him."

"He tried to kill you."

Supervillain whimpered, cowering deeper into bed as Villain's blantant mention of the past triggered his anxiety. Hero would surely get back at him once he was healed. She was just waiting so that she could redo the damage already done to his lungs. Make him suffer the agony he was experiencing. Supervillain let out a quiet sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

As complex as these thoughts seemed, the thinking of them only took a moment because soon, Hero was replying to Villain's accusation.

"And you tried to kill him," she retorted. "Twice. I stopped you both times."

"And knocked me out and hospitalized me in the process. Hero, we are the victims here. Not him," Villain shot a pointed glare at the scared supervillain with a sneer.

"You gave him pneumonia! He can die!"

"Okay, okay. One, I could've died from head trauma. Two, if he was going to die, take him to a freaking hospital. And three, you helped push him into the tank. Remember that."

The memory swarmed Hero like bees- the reminder of her own grave mistake making her feel a rush of guilt.

"I shouldn't have done that and I can't take him to the hospital or he will be arrested."

"I could've been arrested."

"Not everything's about you!"

Villain was silent, chewing at his bottom lip. "This isn't a decision of intellect, darling, housing him does not justify yours or mine or his actions. Not to mention how much you are going regret this," he pointed out, flinging the knife in his hands carefully.

"Why would I regret this. I am-"

"The Hero Agnecy dear. Did you think that your little medic friend thought it was normal for you to call my injuries in? Or are you that naive?"

Hero was silent, stunned into utter silence, but Villain's words. Medic never came. She never came to help Hero, but that didn't mean that she reported Hero's possible betrayal of the agency. It didn't mean...

She never came.

And Hero brought Villain to the hospital. That was all the proof needed for the Agency to put her on a watchlist.

"You need to go back!" Hero suddenly exclaimed, jostling Supervillain who was just about to doze off again.

"To where? The mangy excuse for a hospital?" Villain snorted. "Heck no." He chuckled. "They will put me back under with restraints this time. The chances of escape will go from 95.6% to zero in a matter of seconds. Its suicidal, not to mention probably stupid beyond reason."

"They are gonna think I busted you out..." Hero's voice trailed off when she saw Villain raise his eyebrow mockingly.

"Not everything is about you," he mimicked in perfect representation of Hero's prior exclamation that could've once been described as an arguement's winning statement.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, Supervillain started hacking, but this time around not only mucus left his lungs, but blood in the color of the deepest crimson.

"Hmm," Villain stayed silent for moment, brow ceasing. Hero thought she could literally see the gears clicking and turning in his head.

"You could be right," Villain agreed. "Going back would be beneficial. Especially for me." He grinned wickedly.

"How?"

"Well... Supervillain needs medicine and care, antibiotics to kick this pneumonia," Villain started to pace. "I could go back and gather some. Tell the docs that I escaped on my own... but for a price."

Hero got a sense of Rumpelstiltskin's classic, "all the magic comes with a price" speech with the twirl of his scaly pointer finger, from the series Once Upon a Time.

"Name it."

"All of my criminal charges are dropped, meaning I get to leave that hospital when I deem ready. Not when the stupid heroes decide that I am redeemed enough."

Well, uh, that... Hero shook her head. She never thought of it, but antibiotics were needed to make Supervillain better. She had to go through with it.

"Second," Villain counted off with his fingers as he threw sarcastically intended smirks. "I get a new motorcycle. Your boyfriend trashed it."

"He's not-" Hero stopped when she saw Villain raise an eyebrow.

"Shush, honey. Lemme talk," He drawled. "I will bring you the antibiotics if you swear you will heed my requests."

All sense of caution and foreboding were lost as Hero rummaged her thoughts over the promise. Supervillain's health for two simple things. It was easy enough.

"Deal," she said, nearly involuntary, but that wasn't entirely accurate because she indeed wanted this.

Villain smirk, running his tongue over his lips as he bounded over to shake Hero's hand. The second the two's flesh met meant that the deal was struck. Hero couldn't back away, nor could Villain.

Hero was in the kitchen tenderly feeding Supervillain some soup and prompting him to drink some gatorade when Villain returned triumphantly with a large red bottle.

"Sweet!" Hero exclaimed and grabbed the much needed tuberware. She opened it and admired the pills inside.

"One twice a day," Villain instructed, sitting down in the empty chair next to Hero. His eyes glinted with excited anticipation, narrowing slightly at the edges at the way Hero regarded the antibiotics.

She then took one and opened Supervillain's jaw. He didn't even attempt to resist and compliantly allowed her to maneuver his mouth around. Even though swallowing the hefty pill was an ordeal in itself, he managed.

Hero, seemingly satisfied, picked him up and carried him to the living room to nap on the couch. Villain followed behind her, shooting glances at his phone every few seconds.

Hero propped him against her shoulder and flicked on the television. A comedy show was on. Supervillain glanced up at it before digging his head into Hero's shoulders, completely disinterested.

Supervillain was asleep, Hero was resting with a relaxed look of tranquility on her face, and Villain was draped across an armchair completely absorbed in his phone and periodically looking out the window when the door made a knocking noise.

Hero tensed, and looked at Villain who had stood up.

"Wait here," he said, but there was no ounce of anticipation in his voice. Hero furrowed her forehead. There was even a hint of buoyancy in his typical monotone voice. Even though he usually spoke in a sarcastic air, he always seemed to drawl.

But this was different. Abnormal. Eerie. And a bit- if not very- concerning.

Hero stood up, leaning Supervillain against the armrest and pressed her ear to the recently shut door.

It was Villain who was speaking, that monotone that would stand out anywhere.

"I have them," he said. "I have them both."

Hero's heart dropped when she heard the click of guns.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #feverish whumpee #feverish villain #hero x supervillain #writing #heros and villains #pneumonia #drugged whumpee #drugged villain #fever #tw nightmares

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lil-pine-mha-drabbles · 4 years ago

Note

hiiii! i hope you’re feeling better! i know i’ve requested from you before but i love your writing and you write my bb kiri so well :,))

if it’s doable could i request a road trip with the bakusquad? head cannons are okay if that’s easier, and now i’m talking too much lmao

it’s okay if this is too much, thank you <33

Kirishima x reader

Road trip!!!!

Sweet sapling, never apologize for requesting something so cute, of course I’ll do it!

Thank you so much for the support and kind words I hope you like this. Words just tumbled out and I made this!

Trigger warning!!

Does mention a creepy man who is apart of a trafficking ring. He says one thing that could be disturbing to some people. Otherwise it’s fine, save for some swearing on Bakugou and Sero’s parts.

This was based partly on my last road trip!

Here are some people that inspire me! @alpha-bnha-boys and @random-mha-thoughts

There are 1445 words to read below the line!

—————————

You weren’t really sure how you got roped into it, the road trip. The trunk was packed tightly and you were shoved into the van with your boyfriend and his friends. The radio played “Firework” loudly while Bakugou drove but no one mentioned it, they all just sang along with Katie. He drove roughly five hours while Kiri took a nap, he had to drive next.

Your head rolled to the side and bonked into the window while Kirishima drove with you in the front seat. You were most comfortable with him driving, he was very responsible and drove smoothly. Though, you weren’t the only one falling asleep, Mina was passed out in the trunk on a makeshift bed on all the luggage, Bakugou was snoring lightly, his face shoved against the seat that he pushed Kaminari off of and the electric boy was under the seat with blankets wrapped all around him, and Sero taped his pillow to the window and slept with his neck at an odd angle, drooling occasionally.

You looked up at your boyfriend groggily and smiled when he placed his hand on your thigh lovingly. The car was just coming into a lit up city when your head lolled and you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were at a gas station. You slid on your crocks Kiri bought you and walked into the obnoxiously bright pit stop. You went to the bathroom and looked around the gross room with stalls. Mina was washing her face in the sink and smiled at you when she squinted her eyes at you through the soap. You waved tiredly and walked into the stall with a flickering light. The floor had brown tiles with disgusting stains you hoped were just grease. There was that stupid gap in the door that you could see out of very easily and saw Mina walk out a bump into Kirishima.

“Hey, Mina. Is (Y/n) in there?”

“Yup! She’s using the restroom though, so you should wait.” He nodded and you watched the door close.

You finished up and washed your hands and face then opened the door to meet your red headed boyfriend.

“What’s up, babes?” You asked when he hugged you.

“There was this guy trying to get in the girls room. Bakubro and I asked him to leave but he stuck around so Bakugou walked Mina to the car and I’ll walk you.” You smiled at him brightly and kissed his cheek not even worried about the creepy man, cuz your boyfriend would protect you.

“Where Denki and Sero?”

“They’re getting snacks and energy drinks.” Kirishima smiled at you and opened the door for you, the bell ringing loudly. Outside you saw the guy Kiri mentioned by the trash cans watching Mina.

You poked Kiri in the arm and pointed to the creepy man. Your boyfriend nodded and placed his hand on your lower back and gently pushed you forward with him. You got in shot gun next to Mina who was in the driver seat and shut the door.

Bakugou and Kirishima stood outside the car, talked for a bit, and sauntered over to the suspicious man. The lights over head of the car flickered as a bunch of bugs flew in front of it but you were watching the two boys. They talked to the man for a bit until Bakugou punched the guy in the face and before you knew it, Kiri was holding him back and Sero who just walked out taped the man to the wall and Denki started calling the police.

Neither of you could hear what they were saying but you got a good idea. Sero walked to the car with his snacks and opened the back door.

“What’s up with the guy?” Mina asked him.

“I don’t have all the answers but the guy said some gross things about you guys and Bakubro punched him and was going to beat the shit outa him but Kirishima held him back. I saw a little bit coming out and when the guy tried to make a mad dash, I taped him up. Denks is talking with the police and I’m gonna go talk to the employees.” He said quickly before shutting the door and walking into the station to talk to the workers.

You sighed deeply, guess you wouldn’t be on the road anytime soon. After fifteen minutes of waiting patiently, Mina fell asleep and you were close behind her.

Kirishima shrugged of some dirt that got on his shirt in the scuffle and looked over to the car where Mina was sleeping with her mouth open and you were just about to sleep, and he smiled warmly at you both. You were so beautiful.

The sun was coming up in the distance when the police arrived, it had only been a half an hour but Kirishima was still on edge.

“Okay, tell us exactly what happened. What are your names?”

“I’m Bakugou Katsuki.” He growled loudly.

“I’m Kirishima Eijiro.”

“I’m Single,” Denks flashed a smile at the police woman who sighed and pointed to her wedding ring. “Right... I’m Kaminari Denki.”

“Hanta Sero.” Sero nodded in thought.

“Alright, boys, what happened?” She questioned, hands holding a pen and note pad.

“Well we got here about five and got in for a pit stop, my girlfriend and my friend went into the ladies room to freshen up and Bakugou and I saw this guy,” Kiri pointed to the man being cuffed. “trying to get into the girls bathroom. I asked him to leave but he didn’t. Bakugou walked Mina, my friend, to the car and I waited for my girlfriend to get out. When we got out he was hanging around the dumpster looking at Mina.” He pointed to the car where you and Mina were snoring.

“Okay. Who initiated the first hit?” The woman asked kindly.

“We asked him what his fucking deal was and he started spouting shit about how pretty the girls were and how there necks would look good chained to his bed and all that nasty shit. I punched his dumbfuck face.” Bakugou told her, he was getting steamed just thinking about what happened.

“Okay, we appreciate it. We’re gonna have to have you all come down to the station for more questions.” All the boys groaned loudly. “It won’t take long. You’ll be out of here by two PM.” She smiled and walked away to share her information with her partners.

“Well here we go I guess. This’ll be a Bakusquad adventure that’s for sure!” Kaminari smiled brightly.

“Shut up, sparkleshit. I want to take a nap.” Bakugou growled as he stomped towards the car.

Kirishima and Sero sighed and followed after the loud blonde. Kaminari was the first there, he hopped in the backseat and smiled when Bakugou promptly passed out on his shoulder. Sero sat next to the two while Kirishima gently picked up Mina and put her next to Sero where she flopped over onto all three guys laps. Bakugou grunted but stayed asleep.

Kirishima got in the driver’s seat and kissed your forehead before he started following the police who waved him to follow them.

You and Mina had woken up when you got to the police department and they told you to go to a small café when they figured out neither of you knew anything about the incident. You sat across from the pink girl while you stirred your drink lazily, the latte art getting destroyed but you didn’t care.

Mina played with your hair while you looked at your phone and talked about random things.

“Kiri just texted me,” you told her. Her ears perked up in silent curiosity. “He said they’re done being questioned and that guys going to jail. Turns out he was apart of some sex traffickers.”

“Jeez, can’t even get a break from putting people in jail even on our vacation!” She exclaimed.

“I know. We can head to the car now. They’ll be out in a minute.” She nodded and you both finished your drinks and walked out to the car across the street.

When Kiri caught sight of you he smiled brightly as held his arms out in an invitation. You looked both ways and ran across only to jump in his arms excitedly. He smiled and kissed your lips happily.

“Okay, pebble! Let’s get going, everyone, Mina’s driving.” He called out to everyone and set you next to him in the car.

Bakugou sat in front while Denks and Sero sat next to you both.

You were sure more adventures were to come on this road trip.

#anime #mha drabbles #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha bakugou #mha kaminari #mha kirishima #mha x reader #sero mha #kirishima x y/n #Kirishima x reader #road trip!!#you are wonderful and deserving of love!!#don’t you ever forget that #mha mina #mina ashido

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rowan-underthehouse · 3 years ago

Text

Shot Glasses and Shadows

Pairing: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2,011

Warnings: slight self-harm, mention of blood

Additional Tags: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, Abandon All Hope Coda, Mentioned Jo Harvelle, grief/ mourning

Summary: Dean struggles with the aftermath of Abandon All Hope. Castiel is there to help.

Read it on Ao3 here

It’s the moments between hunts where Dean starts to lose his balance. When there’s no monster to fight, and the adrenaline pounding through his limbs fades away.

There are things he can do to stop it. He can make dinner runs while he tries to list the name of every song he’s ever put on a mixtape, or blast the radio until the speakers crackle, or sprint until his lungs burn. As long as he keeps moving he can fight it off. But as flames lick the glossy edges of the closest thing to a send-off they can give Jo and Ellen, all Dean can do is root his feet to the ground and watch.

He doesn't walk away from the fire until the photograph is reduced to ash. The crumbling of Jo’s gentle features is almost beautiful here. He wonders if Jo could feel the flames in her last moments. If she still believed her death meant something. If it felt beautiful.

“I’m going to clean up.”

“Dean you don’t-” Sam follows his gaze to the cluster of shot glasses still spread across the table, not finding the right words until his brother is already gone. Sam knows better than to follow.

It shouldn’t take him more than fifteen minutes to finish the kitchen, but Dean’s limbs are heavy with guilt and the half bottle of whiskey he’s already downed. He’d expected it to feel different to be back here. Everything warm and homey and right should have burned up with Ellen and Jo, but Bobby’s kitchen somehow missed the memo. This is still the same place they’d laughed and drank and squeezed out smiles around the dread no amount of alcohol could quite wash away just the night before. It’s Dean who’s out of place. He shouldn’t be here, surrounded by a past already so long gone it aches. It’s going to collapse in on him at any second.

The first shot glass that shatters against the hardwood floor is an honest-to-god accident. Dean lets the second roll out of the crook of his elbow, watching with the closest thing to satisfaction he can muster as broken glass dusts his boots. The third, he smashes into the worn countertop. He feels the blood pooling under his palm before he registers the glass wedged there. It brings a sick, bubbling laugh to the back of his throat.

He’s watching the blood run along the edge of a fourth glass, rolling it over in his palm when a hand appears on his shoulder.

“Dean,” The unmistakable crunching of dress shoes on glass pulls Dean back to reality. “You’re injured.”

Dean tosses the shot glass in his hands into the sink, almost disappointed when it doesn’t shatter. He shrugs Castiel’s hand off his shoulder, doing his damn best to ignore how cold he feels at the tiny loss of contact. Cas has that effect on people. That warm sort of feeling that starts deep in your chest and spreads to your fingertips until it feels like everything might be alright. Sam feels it too, Dean’s sure, but it doesn’t seem to be burning him up from the inside the way it does Dean. The relief he feels when Cas grabs his shoulder again is humiliating. He wipes it clean off his face before Cas can turn him around.

“You’re bleeding, Dean,” there’s more force to it this time. Dean stares expectantly, waiting for the feeling of grace stitching the fibres of his hand together, but nothing comes. Cas’s eyes fall to the floor. “I’m...going to get the first-aid kit.”

“So, what? Not going to mojo me back together? Cas, is there something you want to tell me?” He squares his shoulders, taking a step toward Cas. Of course something’s wrong. Not even an angel of the lord could get that close to Lucifer and come out unscathed.

“Because if something happened, something that we should know about, you better spit it out before it gets someone killed,” Dean closes the distance between him and Cas, staring down with what he hopes reads as more malice than concern and waits. Cas should be snapping back at him or threatening to throw him back to hell or something but he’s just standing there, gaze cast at the floor.

“It’s not important. It won’t affect my ability to help in your fight against the devil,” Dean turns away with a scoff just loud enough for Cas to hear. Somewhere deep beneath two hours worth of whiskey he knows he’s trying to start a fight, but he doesn’t care.

Even turned away, Dean can feel Cas’ gaze burning into his back. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to do something useful?” He nods in the direction of the library where every piece of lore they could find is still strewn out on the desk. The words taste bitter on Dean’s tongue, but if it gets Cas to do something, anything, other than stand there and stare straight into Dean’s soul (Maybe literally. Dean hopes not) it will be worth it.

Dean doesn’t turn around until the footsteps have faded from the kitchen. He drops the remaining shot glasses into the sink and kicks Jo’s chair in as an afterthought on his way out the door.

Sam and Bobby are nowhere to be seen, no doubt already tucked away in their respective rooms trying to figure out how to get through the night. Dean doesn't bother asking how they got Bobby up to his old room now that the sofa has been temporarily dragged back to its place in the library. He suspects Cas had something to do with it.

The fire is little more than embers when Cas comes back around the corner, battered first-aid kit in hand. Dean’s stomach churns. He should apologize.

“Throw another log on.”

Again, Castiel fixes him with that stupid, sympathetic, stare and does as he’s asked.

“You’re grieving.”

Dean almost laughs. “Really, Cas? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You shouldn’t try to stop it. It won’t help,” Cas settles on the sofa and unpacks the kit, examining the contents carefully while he lays them out on the end table.

That old rage bubbles up in Dean's chest again. “So what am I supposed to do, huh? Just sit here and moan about it in the middle of the friggin’ apocalypse? We have work to do, Cas. Stow the Vincent Grey crap.”

“Give me your hand.”

He thinks about arguing. About trying again to stir up some kind of fight just to feel something other than hollow for a few seconds. Angry is easier. Safer. But then, this is Cas. He knows every atom of Dean’s body and can recite his earliest memories like the goddamn pledge of allegiance. There’s no point hiding. He lets some of the tension holding up his body seep back into the floor.

Cas is more gentle than Dean can handle. All calloused hands and careful touches that are anything but clinical. Letting him in is frighteningly easy. It’ll be letting him go when he finally realizes the Winchesters and all their problems aren't worth the effort that will be like pulling stitches.

“They trusted me,” It’s barely a whisper, but Dean’s throat closes around the words. “They trusted me, and I led them to their deaths.”

“You did the best you could. They knew the risks,” There’s a strain in Cas’ voice Dean has never heard before.

Dean’s eyes are burning. He can’t bring himself to meet Cas’ gaze until a thumb swipes across his cheek, brushing away the tears there. For once he finds himself thanking god in all his infinite absence that Cas doesn’t realize the intimacy of the gesture “You did the right thing, Dean. You tried.”

There’s a weight to his words that Dean can’t quite pin down, the teary smile plastered on his face making Dean want to either wrap his arms around Cas or make a break for it. He shoots for somewhere near a more reasonable middle.

“Are you uh…” Dean is struck very suddenly by just how bad he is at this, But he has to try. It’s Cas. “Are you holding out okay?”

“Human grief is different. It’s...heavier”

If tearing down heaven brick by brick could pull that weight off Cas, Dean would do it in a second. It terrifies him how far he’s willing to go.

“Yeah.”

The mess of bandages Cas eventually manages to secure around Dean’s hand isn’t pretty, but it’s a relief. He tosses the bloody glass in a trash bin and dries his now clean hands on an embroidered dish towel that may have been colourful twenty years ago. “I’ll leave you to rest.”

He’s halfway to the door by the time Dean swallows his pride enough to say something. “Cas, wait. Have you - eaten anything? It’s been a long day.”

“I don’t eat.”

Dean spends the longest ten seconds of silence in his life wondering if he could bore a hole through the floor with his eyes to crawl into. This may be the dumbest excuse he’s ever come up with, which is not an easy title to win.

“Are you asking me to stay?”

Maybe it’s the whiskey clouding his mind or the idea of spending the rest of the night drinking his way through whatever’s left of his liver alone that finally snaps a cord in Dean. He sinks back into the couch, exhaustion taking over.

“Please.”

With a creak of old springs and cushions creasing just enough for Dean to slide, Cas is back on the couch, a good few inches closer than the last time. Of course, it doesn't mean anything. Cas is an angel. He can’t understand the way the closeness makes Dean’s heart leap out of his chest. But the way he presses his shoulder against Dean’s is distinctly and undeniably human. He doesn’t want to be alone either.

The next few hours drift by in near silence, broken only by offers of whiskey and the occasional non-committal remark. When Dean’s eyes slip closed, his head lolling against Cas’ shoulder, Cas doesn’t try to wake him.

Once Dean does finally open his eyes, it’s with a pounding headache, and his face pressed against the rough fabric of Cas’ shirt. Through the fog of sleep Dean slowly becomes aware of his limbs tangled with Cas’ where they’ve sprawled across the sofa. He’s a split second away from launching himself onto the floor when he registers Cas’ hand resting loosely against Dean’s back. The slow tide of his breathing. He can’t be asleep but Dean’s never seen him this relaxed. His hair is a disaster where it’s rubbed against the arm of the sofa and his coat is more on the floor than his body. He must be meditating or praying or whatever the hell angels do to recharge their heavenly batteries. It would be rude to interrupt him, Dean reasons, and he’ll be awake again within a few hours. There’s still plenty of time before sunrise. A few hours can’t hurt. In the moment before he’s pulled back to a dreamless sleep, Dean swears he catches the shadow of wings cast against the wall, curled around his body.

…

It’s not unusual for Sam to be awake before his brother. He rolls out of bed some time after sunrise, stumbling toward the kitchen before he’s even finished rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He very nearly walks past the tangle of limbs on the couch before Bobby rolls into the room, gesturing for him to stay quiet.

“They haven’t moved since Cas brought me back down here. Let them rest. They need it.”

And they do.

When Dean finally stumbles into the kitchen, Cas having disappeared mere seconds before he woke up, Sam doesn’t say a word about it, just smiles into his coffee mug. It’s good to see someone keeping Dean steady for once, and if Dean isn't ready to admit it yet, that’s a problem for another day.

#supernatural #deancas #destiel #my writing #supernatural fic #destiel fic #deancas fic #spn #spn fic

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seihun · 4 years ago

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7:53pm // can i be your boyfriend? — a bbh social media au

ϟ prev ◂ part 19A ▸ next

ϟ pairings: byun baekhyun + oc:reader

ϟ word count: ahaha

ϟ notes: i am so sorry for dropping arguably the climax of this whole au and then going ghost for three weeks 😬😬 why you all put up with my clownery is beyond me. i don’t have much to say here except thank you to all to lovely anons who encouraged me and to all the readers who stuck around waiting for this. i apologize that this is completely over the top drama, but hey that’s college. (lowkey inspired by real world experiences haha) enjoy 🥺

Sehun can hear Minseok and Baekhyun asking rapid fire questions behind him, but he’s too busy seeing red to focus on them. He follows behind Johnny almost uncomfortably closely, ensuring that the younger boy is in fact leading them in the right direction and not trying to pull at fast one on him.

Sehun swears on every deity above him that he’ll knock out Jongdae if even half of what Johnny has said so far is true. He couldn’t care less about Minseok reasoning with him to slow down or Chungha telling him to calm down. He’d had it up to here with the games.

It was almost a decade in the making anyway; he’d be the one to knock the lights out of those two one way or another. He doesn’t care to be rational or relax.

Jongdae and Jongin not only had no considerations for your feelings or dignity as a person, but for Kyungsoo’s either—or rather, Baekhyun’s, kinda—either. They’re willing to cross a line—and for what, Sehun’s not really sure. To make a point? Get validation? Piss him off?

At this point, it didn’t matter. Sehun was relishing in just the mere thought of seeing Jongin’s stupid surprised face when he walks in the room. So, imagine his disappointment, when he doesn’t get to see the idiots’ stunned expressions; because you seem to have beaten him to the punch.

“—Are you out of your mind? Jongdae, I’d expect this shit from you, but—”

“[Y/N]?” Sehun blinks, taking in the scene in front of him: your finger pointed at a very nervous looking Jongin, whilst a panicked Jaehyun sunk behind his laptop screen, with Jongdae leaning against a desk—looking far too nonchalant for Sehun’s taste—and Kyungsoo standing just a bit behind you, “Kyungsoo?”

“Sehun?” you question, eyes widening as you look past him to see possibly every person you know at the university filing into the room, all with similar murderous expressions on their faces, “Chung—Minseok? Baekh—what—”

“What are you doing here?” The two of you ask at the same time.

“I—Johnny messaged me,” you explain briefly, “I didn’t believe it, but then I caught Jongin walking into the building, so I followed him.”

Sehun narrows his eyes. “Johnny messaged me too,” he explains, stepping forward and in Jongdae’s direction.

“What a lovely family reunion,” Jongdae sniggers, looking over Sehun’s shoulder, “Junmyeon, long time no see, buddy. You look well.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sehun growls, stepping directly into Jongdae’s line of sight.

“You all need to relax,” Jongdae lolls, crossing one leg over the other and resting his palms on the desk, “I tried explaining that was just a prank, her little boyfriend over there wasn’t gonna get hurt or anything.”

Jongdae nudges his head in Kyungsoo’s direction, whose eyes are now wider than Sehun has ever seen them before. He looks briefly to you, watches as your eyebrows crinkle together.

“Boyfriend—are you talking about Kyungsoo?” you ask Jongdae, then snap your head towards Jongin, “Is that what this whole thing is about? You think we’re together so you were gonna try and publicly humiliate him?”

Sehun might not have gotten to see Jongdae’s surprised face when he walked in the room, but he thinks seeing the shorter boy’s eyes go wide with horror at your words is even better.

“You’re not—?” Jongin stutters, gesturing towards you and Kyungsoo.

“No we’re not!” you screech, turning swiftly to Kyungsoo, “No offense or anything.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, “None taken.”

“He’s not my boyfriend, you imbecile. I don’t have a boyf—well, I kinda—it’s none of your business, anyway!” You shout, stomping your foot.

“Then—who—but we saw you!” Jongdae counters. Sehun takes a deep breath, counts to three in his head, remembers that murder is a crime.

“It’s called having a friend, you should try it sometime,” Sehun says, in lieu of breaking his jaw.

“[Y/N], look, I—I’m sorry, we—I didn’t know,” Jongin apologizes hurriedly, taking a step forwards towards you. A little too close for Sehun’s comfort; too close for Chanyeol’s too, by the way he pushes forward towards him. “We’ll go and change everything back right now, I swear—”

“That’s not the fucking point!” you cut him off, making him pause in his place, and effectively stopping Chanyeol’s strides too.

“First of all, I don’t know what or how you’d have been changing anything. Yeah, we send them to the TA’s, but then the head TA compiles them into one PDF for the showcase,” you explain frustratedly, “So nothing you changed would have shown up anyway. Not to mention we submit the final versions 24 hours beforehand. It’s protocol to make sure students don’t change anything, and the board can review for plagiarism. I used to think it was a stupid rule, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sehun watches as Jongin, Jongdae, and Jaehyun’s mouths fall into tiny o-shapes. An embarrassed blush spreads across the latter’s face as he attempts to quietly close his laptop screen. In his periphery, he can see Johnny pulling his hood over his head. Sehun rolls his eyes. He’d deal with Johnny some other time; he’s not off the hook in his book yet.

“But you were willing to completely sabotage Kyungsoo on the odds that I was dating him,” you continue, but your tone is different now. Sadder than before; not quite disappointed, but almost somber, like you’d come to a harsh realization, “I tried to get you to come with me to this for two years, Jongin. I can’t even count how many times I’d rambled to you about how much of an honor it would be to give my own presentation—about how many opportunities and important people there are here tonight—and you were willing to ruin that for Kyungsoo? For what? For what! I don’t fucking get it!”

Jongin shakes his head, has a jerk reaction to move forward and try to comfort you. “I’m sorry—it was wrong, stupid! I just… I just wanted to have your attention for a little bit.”

Sehun’s seen this scene before; the one where Jongin upsets you, and then somehow makes you believe he’s the only one who can comfort you from his own wrongdoings. He’s a smooth talker, Sehun will give him that, but he’s seen it all before. It almost hurts him to watch it unravel at this point; he can’t even think to look back knowing Baekhyun’s about to witness it, too.

But it doesn’t play out like that; not like it has before. Jongin doesn’t get close enough, but you’re already stepping back, almost stumbling into Kyungsoo.

“You did all this for attention?” you cry out in disbelief, “You wanted to embarrass me in front of my entire faculty and all my friends, for my attention?”

Sehun watches you ball up your fists, the somber timbre of your voice gone; now filled with a kind of anger and frustration he doesn’t think he’s ever heard from you in regards to Jongin.

“Jongin, when we were together I couldn’t hold your attention for more than a few fucking weeks, and now you want me to give you mine, completely undivided? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

It’s a good look on you, Sehun thinks. He likes what he’s hearing, he likes what he’s seeing; he likes this scene much better.

“[Y/N], I—” Jongin reaches out again, but you’re already moving back. Sehun smiles; you might not even realize it, but ironically your backwards movements were a huge step forward.

“Don’t touch me,” you seethe, turning your back to him. You make eye contact with Sehun briefly, then Chanyeol, then some of the others; you look at Baekhyun the longest, a kind of silent message—before sighing.

Jongin doesn’t hear you though, because he tries again, extending an arm, and aiming for your shoulder; but all he gets is a fistful of his own shirt in Chanyeol’s hands.

“She said not to touch her,” the blonde growls, shoving Jongin backwards, letting him stumble into a few desks before standing upright again.

“I—we have to go,” you mumble, shooting Chanyeol a thankful expression before pulling Kyungsoo with you by his sleeve to the door, “Soo and I should go prepare with whatever time we have left.”

You pause at the door, briefly, looking at Baekhyun again, nervous; but it’s all smiles in the shorter boy’s eyes. “We’ll be out there when you guys are up, promise,” he says to you.

That seems to be enough to put a smile on your face, small as it is, before you and Kyungsoo walk out of the room completely and back to the presentation hall.

It’s quiet with you gone now, a palpable tension in the room with Sehun and Chanyeol staring down Jongin, Chungha grilling Jaehyun and Johnny, and Jongdae and Minseok looking like they’re three seconds away from ripping each other’s hair out.

Sehun kinda feels bad for Baekhyun, caught in the middle like this. He sticks close to Junmyeon, the only other neutral party. Well, neutral enough.

“So you’re the boyfriend, then, huh,” Jongin is the first to speak, eyes aiming for Baekhyun, “Dae got it wrong.”

Baekhyun brings a hand up to his neck, “Uh, well… kinda? Not that—it shouldn’t really matter to you, now, anyways.”

God, does Sehun wish Baekhyun was the trash talking type right about now. He sighs; he supposes it’s for the best that he isn’t.

“Well then you should watch out for blondie, and eyebrows over here,” Jongin warns him, “They never let her think for herself. Not to mention, Sehun follows her around like a lap dog, probably because he’s in love with—”

Jongin doesn’t get the chance to finish before Sehun’s fist collides with his jaw, knocking the older boy over, and leaving him hunching over one of the empty desks. Jongin barely gets the chance to gather his bearings before Sehun’s got his fist in his shirt, and pushing his back into the blackboard.

“This is the last time I’m going to tell you to shut that dirty mouth of yours and leave her the hell alone,” Sehun orders, voice so low it could be a whisper, “Do you understand me?”

Jongin only has the strength to groan in response. “I fucking mean it, Jongin, or so help me god,” Sehun’s mouth twitches, his free hand almost coming up to hit him again, but he’s pulled back by Chungha.

He looks at her, huffing as his resolve washes away, and lets go of Jongin completely, not caring for the way he stumbles around to find a desk for support to hold up his weight. Jongdae looks entirely too un-punched for Sehun’s liking, but he’ll leave him to Minseok. For now.

“Do you fuck around with [Y/N] like that because you’re jealous of her?” Baekhyun asks, his question leaving them stunned.

He directs his gaze to a hunched over Jongin, Sehun stepping out of the way with Chungha at his side to give him a better view. All eyes are on Baekhyun, now.

“You don’t like that she has friends who care about her. And you didn’t like that she might have cared about Kyungsoo like you want her to care about you,” Baekhyun reasons, “She has people who love her in way than one, but it’s obvious you don’t have any real friends. Not anymore, at least.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jongin replies, voice strained with coughs in-between his words.

Baekhyun frowns, hands in his pockets. Sehun’s never seen him like this either.

“I think you do,” Baekhyun corrects him, “I think you know you fucked up so bad—not just with her, with Sehun, and Chungha, and Chanyeol, too—they were all your friends before, right?”

Jongin doesn’t answer him, but Sehun nods at Baekhyun in confirmation. His lips fall into a pinched line.

“I used to think you and Jongdae were different,” Baekhyun drawls, “But I get it now. You both had people who loved you, but you thought it was unconditional right? You thought no matter how badly you fucked up, they’d forgive you. But you’re wrong.”

“Sehun doesn’t fight for her blindly; she does the same for him, for Chanyeol, and Chungha, too. It goes both way, like any functioning relationship,” Baekhyun continues, “She was even willing to do the same for you. And Minseokie for Jongdae. But they don’t have to, not if you don’t keep up your end of the bargain; love isn’t unconditional like that. They don’t need you, either of you, but you want them to. Badly.”

It’s evident Baekhyun’s words put a sour taste in Jongin’s mouth, but just enough strength for him to pull himself upwards. “And what makes you think you’re so much better that she’ll need you instead?”

“Nothing,” Baekhyun shrugs, “Because I know she doesn’t.”

Sehun finds himself smiling at Baekhyun’s words, looks around to see that everyone else seems to be in agreement.

“Come on,” Chanyeol speaks up, “We have to be out there before Kyungsoo is up.”

They all nod in agreement, everyone filing out the room. He doesn’t think to look back, not caring for the four left behind. Sehun throws his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder as they walk towards the presentation hall.

“You know your little speech was pretty kickass and all,” Sehun starts, “But let’s talk about the boyfriend title, shall we? Or, rather, lack thereof.”

Baekhyun chuckles nervously, gone is the serious tone in his voice from before. “Well I didn’t want to call myself her boyfriend because I’m not!… Yet… And, also, she didn’t before!”

“Because you have to ask her, dumbass,” Minseok interjects from behind the pair.

“I am going to!” Baekhyun squeals, composing himself as he realizes they’re now inside the lobby, which means inside voices, “Or, well, I was going to. I don’t think now is the time, anymore.”

Sehun frowns, removing his arm from Baekhyun’s shoulder. He’s probably right. With the way things have gone tonight, he doubts you’re going to want to do anything but go home and eat your weight in fried rice when this is all over.

Still, looking at Baekhyun and Chungha groan over the lack of use of their “beautiful masterpiece of a sign” as they take their seats has him smiling. You and Baekhyun are good; official couple terms or not.

As soon as the showcase was over, he and the others met you and Kyungsoo outside of the building, with a mountain of hugs and compliments.

Junmyeon shoves a bouquet of flowers into Kyungsoo’s hand, forces him to take pictures with all of them, and Baekhyun even gets a piggy back ride from his friend for all of three seconds before he’s thrown off of his back. Baekhyun also brought a flower crown for Kyungsoo, but none of them could keep it on his head for more than a minute; now it sits atop Maize’s instead.

Baekhyun also gifts you a flower crown, albeit a little bit bigger, and more expensive than Kyungsoo’s, which you accept happily, along with telling him how much you’d loved his very bright decorative poster.

Chanyeol, Sehun, and Chungha, however make his little grown seem obsolete, as they shower you with baked treats, an expensive looking yellow rose bouquet, a homemade sash that reads “best presentation,” and falling confetti from a small confetti gun that Chanyeol had managed to wrangle into his pockets.

By god do you have some good friends.

“Thanks for the… everything, guys,” you say, speaking for both you and Kyungsoo, “I know we wanted to go out to eat after, but honestly, I think I need to call it a day.”

Baekhyun’s hunch turned out to be right, much to Chungha and Chanyeol’s chagrin; both of whom seemed to be looking forward to eating out as a group. The complaints soon settle into small talk, everyone agreeing that tonight had been a whirlwind of events, and some greasy take out and two respective movie nights at Junmyeon and your apartments would suffice.

You’d all get together to celebrate some time later in the week, and at that point there would likely be even more to celebrate for, as it would be after a joint interview you and Kyungsoo were offered for your work in the showcase.

Baekhyun thinks about the other posted rolled up in the one you’d seen, both currently in Chungha’s possession (who’d promised to keep it safe until he was ready to use it again). He’d have another opportunity to ask you, he was sure of it.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you snap him out of his train of thought, loosely wrapping his hands in yours. Baekhyun crinkles his eyebrows as you continue, “That tonight didn’t go as planned. With—”

“You don’t have to apologize!” he cuts you off with a light chuckle; however, you seem startled, confused even by his reaction, “Babe, you did absolutely nothing wrong; you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you reply, unsure of yourself, “I don’t know, I just—if they’d thought to go after you instead, who knows what they’d of done and—”

“[Y/N],” Baekhyun calls—that laugh of disbelief still airing through the syllables—wrapping his fingers around yours more firmly, “You’re not responsible for his actions, you know that?”

“I know, but still,” you frown, “I should have known he was up to something. I know I kinda told him off but I just—I don’t want anything to happen to you as a result of their antics, you know?”

“I think the punch Jongin took to the face should prevent them from bothering you again,” Baekhyun chuckles as you eyes go wide.

“Punch—who punched him! Not that he didn’t deserve it, but I told them not to punch anybody. Was it Chungha?—I keep telling her that’s not safe, even if—”

“No it was Sehun,” Baekhyun fills you in, “I don’t think you could have prevented it. Seemed like a long time coming.”

“Yeah, I—I guess it was,” you say, finally, “I know. I’m sorry—about being sorry for them, then.”

Baekhyun laughs from his stomach this time, removing his hands from yours to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pull you into him, and press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re cute.”

Baekhyun sees that you’re about to open your mouth to reply, when you’re cut short by the flash of a camera. When he looks up he finds the culprit to be none other than Chungha, who’s holding her phone up right, and lets out a disappointed groan.

“Ugh, I didn’t get the kiss,” she whines, shoving her screen in Chanyeol’s direction before flipping it around to face the two of you, “You guys look pretty cute still, though, so you’re welcome.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” you say, a worn out lilt in your voice as you slowly pull yourself from his hold, “I need a nap. And egg rolls paid for by Chanyeol, so time to get going.”

“But I just volunteered to pay for the later celebration dinner!” Chanyeol exclaims, pouting excessively.

“Don’t worry, Junmyeon can pay when we all go out to eat,” Baekhyun grins, “Won’t even leave a dent in his pockets, right hyung!”

His comment is enough to make everyone chuckle, except Junmyeon who merely shoots him an unamused glance; but Baekhyun knows it means no harm. As if he’d let anyone else pay for a meal.

This information seems to pique Sehun’s interest, however; as the taller boy finds himself stalking towards Junmyeon and wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Is that so?” Sehun starts, dragging Junmyeon along with him and prompting the rest of the group to start walking towards the parking lots, “I don’t think we’ve met yet, hyung, I’m Sehun.”

“I think I’ve been replaced,” Minseok lolls, watching Sehun and Junmyeon’s silhouettes as they walk ahead.

You chuckle, finding yourself walking between him and Chungha, Maize on his other side, as you head towards the cars. “Don’t take it personally,” you tell him, “Anyone who’s older with a bank account is of interest to Sehun. At least as far as lunch goes.”

Minseok laughs lightly at that, the four of you making small jokes at Sehun expense about his need for companionship and affection in the form of food. It’s a few minutes later when Chungha jokes that if Minseok really needed a new friend to dote on, he should get to know Chanyeol better.

“Hey, Chan, you hear, Min—” you call out to the taller boy, turning your shoulder to face him, but he’s not there. Neither is Baekhyun—not anywhere near the rest of you, anyway.

You stop completely, and turn around, prompting Maize, Minseok, and Chungha to do the same. In the distance, you can see Baekhyun and Chanyeol; it’s as if they hadn’t seen the rest of you walking ahead. And, unfortunately, it looked like the two idiots were… dancing in the middle of the street.

“You think they’ve been hitting the whoah this entire time we’ve been walking?” Maize questions, staring ahead at them like they’re a spectacle. They might as well be.

Chungha sighs, “Probably.”

“I think Chanyeol and Baekhyun are gonna be a little busy becoming best friends,” Minseok laughs, “It looks like they’re already half way there.”

“What could they have possibly been talking about that led them to dancing like that?” Chungha questions.

You’re next, crossing your arms and shaking your head, too. You have to admit, it makes you smile a little bit. That doesn’t make them any less embarrassing.

“Do you see why I avoided introducing them to each other now?”

ϟ tag list: @artfulbarnes @bat-shark-repellant @baek-byunies @baeklooming-day @bbh-kji @cosmins @etsjusoa @exuwu @elyxion1485 @fifiaaaaaa @haechanspudu @honeyboocal @httpschoisan @junkfoodwriting @just-a-sad-writer @j-pping @joyfulponyoafhuman @kokomaesadie @kkpoptrashhh @littleflowercrown13 @loeytingz @marina-del-rey98 @mangobaek @minseokscock @miraculyfe @mochahyuck @oasissehun @ohwosehun @p-polaroid @peachesyeol @peacherparker @penguinsoo-l @rikachusworld @sakura-uji @shesdreaminginoverdose @sekshi-namjas @smolpeyy @strawberrychannie @takoyakkun @to-all-the-stories-i-love @vaiva @writingindaisies @xiutingmyself @xxbluestrifexx @yourexotextplus @zaez

ϟ more notes: once again sorry about the long wait hehe but i hope you liked it!! also, friendly reminder that the taglist is closed!! also, yes i’m sorry this is part 19A which means there is a 19B but it’s not written so don’t worry you won’t have to read through my excessive commas anymore LOL

#exo smut #exo fluff #exo reactions #exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo fanfic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun x reader #exo fake texts #exo x reader #chanyeol fluff #sehun fluff #sehun fanfic #FINALLY SHE'S HERE #exo college au #jongin fluff #*cibyb

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

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Six Strangers Walk Into a Bar: Part 3 (Severen x Fem!Reader) fic

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Warnings: cursing, blood/gore/violence mention

Word Count: 3755

It took you fifteen minutes to leave your room and rejoin the group. It had only taken about five minutes for you to calm down, but you spent the other ten running the events over and over in your mind. After those feelings of anger subsided, other less manageable ones surfaced.

Like your attraction to Severen. You reached up to touch your neck, and you could almost feel the coldness of Severens lips on it still. It made you shiver, and you rubbed your hand over the length of your shoulder. Even when you'd been with your ex, you couldn't remember a time when someone had so blatantly protected you. When someone had made you feel the way Severen made you feel. You replayed the anger you'd seen in his eyes from even the mention of how he'd hurt you, and then the way he'd stopped your ex the second he'd looked like he was going to do something rash. Your ex had never hurt you before, but Severen hadn't been willing to take any chances. You bit your nail, wondering just how you got to a point where a murderer could be considered attractive to you.

But, when you pushed those feelings away, other ones swallowed your stomach. If you were honest, you were mighty embarrassed. You hadn't meant to lose your temper, and you were sure that you weren't being as much as a gracious host as your mother had taught you to be. You'd yelled at someone, had a fight with your ex, in front of Severen, and his entire family. The only modicum of relief you gave yourself was that, technically, they'd done worse in front of you. Still, after you had completely calmed down, you left your room to apologize.

You stood in the hallway, and saw that all of them had seemingly gone back to what they'd been doing before your ex's intrusion. They all looked up when you re-entered the room, from the sound of someone approaching more than anything, and you tried not to let your face flush from the six pairs of eyes that found you. You pushed your hair behind your ear and said,

"Sorry y'all had to see that." You said, and went to busy yourself by getting a glass of water. You earned a round of chuckles in response, and Jesse soothed your nerves with a simple,

"Don't worry about it, kid." You looked over, seeing that he had found your ashtray and was letting a cigarette dangle from his lips. You looked over, seeing that Severen was doing the same. You quickly looked away, trying to push away the budding flower of attraction that was blooming in your stomach. Of course, he smoked. It seemed Severen had a habit of finding every little thing you thought was attractive in a man. "Now, I still need you to make sure Severen doesn't cheat." Jesse continued, and you bit your smile back before hiding it behind the cup. Severen hadn't even glanced at you as he lifted his arm and gestured for you to come over, simply looking at his cards instead. You didn't know why you found it attractive, the utter certainty that you would listen. But, listen you did.

You came over, deciding to stand and lean against him. It wasn't more than you had already done, you assured yourself. It was the only way to properly see his cards, and there was no harm in it. Those were the things you told yourself as his hand wrapped leisurely around your waist, and your arm wrapped around his shoulder. You saw the way Diamondback smiled at the sight, and you looked away to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. After a moment, your hand lifted to curl in his hair. It was surprisingly soft to the touch. Severen didn't say a word, but he grinned to himself. After watching for a moment, you said,

"How will I know if he's cheating?" And this earned a laugh from the couple in front of you. You didn't exactly know what game they were playing, but Severen did a quick run down of the rules. You hummed, looking at his cards. It had bothered you before, his moment of cheating, but it dawned on you then that Severen would probably never do anything of the sort. Whether that was because of the watchful eyes of his parents, or the fact that he was of better moral standing. You bet on the former, but quickly you were asking yourself why it even mattered.

When your eyes started to get heavy and it became hard to stand, you decided that you were going to have to take your shower now or never. You'd excused yourself and grabbed a pair of pajamas to bring with you into the bathroom and a clean towel. You locked the door to the bathroom, stripped yourself out of your clothes, and let the warm stream of water wash away the events of that day. Or, well, night. After you'd done a thorough job of cleaning yourself and shaving, you stood there for an extra few minutes and tried to think of just what was supposed to happen the next night.

You weren't dead yet, and it was close to dawn. Neither Severen nor his family had tried to hurt you after the bar, and it almost felt as though you were- Well, there was no other way to put it, but one of them. An accomplice. Accessory to a crime. You let out a small sound, covering your face with your hands when you realized that's exactly what you were. Even if they left the next night, that was never going to change. And you still didn't have any answers as to what had happened while you'd been in the bathroom, but you didn't have the nerve to ask. You didn't think you ever would. You sighed, rinsing your hair one last time before turning the water off. You dried yourself, changed into your pajamas, and were attempting to dry your hair as you stepped out of the shower. Your eyes were heavy and your body was relaxed, ready for sleep. You thought to leave some towels out and a pack of toothbrushes you hadn't yet gotten into, so they could shower and brush their teeth if they wanted to, and called a simple goodnight to your guests. If you could call them that. Just after you called down the hall, Mae passed you. It seemed she was going to take advantage of your offer, and you decided you could stay up a few more minutes to offer both her and Diamondback some of your clothes.

"Just to use as pajamas," You stopped to stifle a yawn. "And I can run a load." You said, gesturing to a closet next to the bathroom, where the washer and dryer were tucked inside. "And I think he left some of his clothes behind too," You said to yourself, walking away to go to your previously shared bedroom to check. You'd thrown all of his clothes out of the drawers, and whatever you had hanging up in the closet. But, tucked towards the bottom was a suitcase of his winter clothes or things he hadn't gotten around to donating. You lugged it out, but Severen was quick to jump up to help you. He grabbed the suitcase while you carried a trash-bag full of the clothes he'd wanted to donate, and Jesse cleared the table so Severen could set both of them on top of it. You gestured to the clothes as you said, "Have at it. There's sweats in the suitcase, but the bag is full of stuff that was too big." You ended the sentence with a mumble, your nails making their way in-between your teeth before looking over to Severen as you said it. He was taller than your ex, so you guessed that any luck he'd have would be with the bag.

"You sure he won't miss them?" Caleb asked, and you looked over at the light-haired brunette. He seemed to be the most considerate of the bunch, and you shrugged. You pulled your hand away from your mouth as you said,

"I'm the one that packed them, so…" As far as you were concerned, he wouldn't even know that they were gone. You left the boys to filter through what your ex had left, and went to let Mae into your room. She stood there in a towel as you gestured to some of your older clothes, or some things that you thought would fit her. When she decided on what she wanted, you left her in your room to let her change with her clothes in hand, and saw that Diamondback was going to use the shower next. She stopped you, reaching out to hold your arm as she said,

"Thank you. You've been very kind to us." And you could feel your face growing hot from the sincerity of her words. You tried to joke by saying,

"Just don't do to me what you did to those people in the bar, and we'll call it even." And you were relieved when it earned a grin. When Mae left your room in a comfy pair of your old clothes, you had already put her old ones in the hamper. You yawned again, and she placed a hand on your back as she said,

"You can head on to bed. We can do the laundry ourselves." And you assured her you could stay up a bit longer. Still, when Diamondback came out of the shower and picked out her clothes, she told you the same. You had a harder time arguing with her, and you accepted defeat by retreating back into your room and letting yourself curl under the covers.

You'd woken up with a dry mouth about half-way through the day. The only good thing about not having a job was that you didn't have anywhere to be, and you stumbled out of your room in search of something to drink. You tried to be as quiet as possible, noting as to where everyone had decided to sleep. You'd figured that Jesse and Diamondback would've picked the guest bedroom. Mae and Caleb were curled up on the couch, tight in eachothers arms. Homer was nowhere to be found, but you thought you could hear snoring coming from the bathroom. And Severen? He had obviously tried his best to make himself comfortable in the corner booth. His legs hung over the end of the booth, even from his slightly propped up position. His head was lolling to the side, and you were sure he was going to have a crick in his neck by the time night-time came. You'd figured out as much to know that they wouldn't be up until then.

You took the time to move their load of clothes, which they hadn't decided to separate by color, into the dryer so it'd be ready when they all woke up. You drank down your water, set the cup in the sink, and hesitated at the hall. You didn't know what pushed you to do it, but, the next thing you knew, you were reaching over to brush your fingers through his hair and lightly stir him awake. He blinked his eyes open, lifting himself up a bit and looking up to find the source of the touch. When he saw you, you couldn't help but smile when he relaxed.

"C'mon. You'll sleep better in my bed." You whispered, nodding your head towards the hall. It didn't take much else to convince him. You didn't know what you were doing, or what had compelled you to do it. Perhaps it was his stupid face. Or the look he'd had when he'd been sleeping, completely relaxed without a smirk, smile, or flash of anger. Or, how, without his leather jacket and in his pajamas, he just didn't look nearly as mean as he once had. You crawled into your bed and Severen closed the door behind the two of you. It was a double bed, one big enough for the two of you. Severen toed off his shoes, but he didn't take off much else. He kept the jeans and tank top he'd chosen from the pile on, and you guessed that was for your sake as he climbed into the bed next to you. He shifted, trying to find a way to get comfortable before he ended up on his back. Almost as if he wasn't used to sleeping in a bed. He curled one of his arms behind his head and laid the other on his stomach, almost as if he was keeping the side towards you open, and you silently asked yourself why you had suggested this to him once more. You stayed on your side of the bed, he stayed on his, and you tried not to wonder when you'd stopped being scared of him.

It had taken awhile to fall back asleep. You weren't used to sleeping through entire days, but there wasn't much else you could do. You had a feeling that they wouldn't take to it kindly if you decided to leave your trailer, for obvious reasons. So, you had no choice but to stay put. And, if you didn't want to wake them up, that meant staying in your room. You fell asleep after Severen did, and after you tucked into yourself.

When you woke up, it was because you felt someone playing with your hair. You blinked your eyes open a fraction, making a noise before you buried your face back into whatever was keeping you comfortable in the summer heat. Denying the suggestion of getting up. The smell was familiar, a smell that had comforted you for years. And your ac had stopped working weeks ago, so you couldn't remember the last time you hadn't woken up with your sheets tossed off of you and sweat beading down your skin. You were perfectly comfortable, and you didn't want to get up. You wrapped your arm around the weight besides you, holding onto it like a cool pillow. Only when he laughed did you realize that it was Severen.

You pulled your hand back, lifting it up in confusion. You'd ended up on his side of the bed, so one thing was clear. And it didn't help your embarrassment when Severen noted it by saying,

"Evenin', cuddle-bug." With a wide grin on his handsome face. Sometime during your sleep you had shifted over to Severens side of your bed and wrapped yourself around him. Arms around his waist, head on his chest, and even your legs were tangled together. You weren't necessarily surprised. You'd been used to cuddling up to someone every night for a long time now, and it seemed like you'd just gravitated towards him. Still, you blushed bright scarlet, and you moved to detach yourself. "Hey, hey, it's alright. You don't gotta go nowhere." He quickly said, and you paused. He stroked your head once more, and, for a moment, you leaned into the touch. It felt nice, nice to be in someone's arms again. Nice to wake up next to someone again. Someone that hadn't cheated on you with someone else. But, you quickly reminded yourself of the massacre from last night, and, suddenly, it was a little bit harder to let yourself relax.

He seemed to notice your shift the instant it happened, and he pulled away his hand to let you pull away completely. You sat up, crossing your legs criss cross and pushing yourself backwards until your back hit the wall. You stared at him, and you forced yourself to ask,

"What happened last night? What- Why-" But there was no way to properly ask the question burning in your mind. Or at least, no way to do it while keeping your composure. What did they do? Why was there blood all over their faces? Even if you hadn't gotten the words out, Severens face went grim. He sighed, drumming his fingers on his stomach before he suddenly sat up all at once. The suddenness of his movement made you jump, and then he slowed. Like a predator trying not to scare off its prey. He looked over at you, mimicked the way you sat, and reached for your hands. You let him take them, and you watched him closely as he began.

"We don't have a word for it, but," He paused, shaking out his hair. "I'm not like you. I've been around a long time, and," It looked like it was hard for him to explain, like this was something he'd rather show you than tell you, but he continued on. "We can do all sorts of things, amazing things, but the night has its price." It was like he was trying to make it sound not as bad as it was, and he gave your hands a squeeze. But, to you, they sounded like the monsters that hid in the dark. They only came out at night, hid behind human faces, and were capable of things you weren't. Straight out of a horror story, you thought. After a moment, you urged him on,

"And that price is..." You weren't going to leave any blanks, especially if it was something that was going to bother you for the rest of your life. But the way he looked at you? He didn't need to speak for you to understand. You already know what that price is, his eyes said. It was you that finished it then. "Killing." You whispered, and his lips quirked down into a frown. His voice lacked any of its usual humor as he said,

"Well, if we don't then they'll become one of us." And you stared at him for another long moment. That answered one question. Monsters weren't born, they were made. And, in this case, they were made by a bite. At first, you thought that it wouldn't be so bad to just let them turn, but then you thought about how many of them there would be. Perhaps not. You couldn't stop the question that left your mouth before you said it,

"And you don't feel bad about it?" You asked him, and he really frowned then. He gripped your hands tighter and leaned forward, the usual cruel humor in his voice when he asked,

"Do you feel bad every time you eat a steak? It's the food chain, darlin'. We just happen to be higher on it." And you stared at him. The way he said it so carelessly, without an ounce of regret, nearly made your skin crawl. He backed off a bit, and you guessed your distaste for his reply was showing through your eyes. But, he didn't try to apologize or make you feel better. You guessed he wasn't the type.

"Then, why didn't you kill me?" You asked, but this time he smiled. It was a wide grin, similar to the one he'd given you when he'd seen you first at the bar. He shrugged his shoulders and said,

"Because I like you." As if that was that. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. But it seemed like that was it. Your eyes left his gaze, moving down to your hands instead. He gave them a squeeze, and your eyes caught a bit of movement. He'd leaned in to catch your eye, and you quickly looked up. He smiled when he had your gaze again, and your eyes followed him as he leaned back again. "And you said that you liked me." He added, and you looked away again for a different reason this time. Embarrassment edged at your mind, as did the flurry of emotions that you weren't willing to admit to yourself. You still found him attractive, even if you knew it was messed up. He was a killer. A predator. The only true predator to the human race that you knew of. But, you liked him, and he liked you too.

You pulled one of your hands away to rub at your heated cheeks, trying to make them cool from the coldness you'd stolen from his hands. But, you found that another cold hand was catching your chin, making you look at him. His eyes were swirling with something, something you weren't quite naive enough to not be able to place. His thumb brushed against your chin, and he whispered,

"It drives me insane whenever you do that. Littlest things make you nervous." He commented, almost as if he was saying the last bit to himself. You watched him closely as his hand travelled down so he could massage the side of your neck. Right over one of your arteries. His words made your heart beat faster at what they suggested, and the roughness of his hands made you shiver. That, or the lack of warmth from them. The idea that you got him tangled up the same way he did you hadn't really occurred to you, but it made your stomach do backflips. "I can hear your heartbeat getting quicker. Pounding out of your chest. Thinking about something, huh?" He said, chuckling lightly as his eyes drifted down to the expanse of your neck. It made you gulp, and his eyes were quick to retreat back to your face once he saw it. Your mouth was dry and your tongue was frozen, caught by his gaze and unable to think of a thing to say. A flirty response to match his. But, Severen liked to talk and he was fine to continue by himself, "At first, I thought you were still scared of me, but," His thumb brushed over your jugular, and you bet your heart was only thrumming louder. "You're not, are you?" It was a rhetorical question, and he was right. You weren't scared anymore, even if part of you knew you should be. He leaned in, pausing a moment when he was only an inch away. You let out a soft gasp, but you didn't pull back. Didn't reclaim the distance between you. Your loosened tongue didn't make a noise to stop him. Instead, after a moment of silent words passing between the two of you, you leaned a bit closer and reached up to cup his jaw when he closed the gap.

#near dark #near dark 1987 #severen #severen near dark #severen x reader

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massensterben-a · 3 years ago

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@jawlost said: ‘ you’re not gentle with me & i would never ask you to be. ’

There are two animals panting in the aftermath, red tongues lolling out over rows of bared teeth. His knees drive into the carpet, that cheap, rotten thing stained with broken glass and liquor. He scents the aftermath of lightning on the air, some thunderstorm that must have trashed the living room. Bertholdt is on hands and knees, shivering as adrenaline ebbs out of his system. He can only hear his pulse, that droning, oppressive pressure in his veins, so thick it threatens to clog the canals. He thinks he might die of a heart attack. —But no, most likely not.

Porco is with him, slinks closer, cuts his feet on the shards that glisten like badly rendered snow. Under the meaty weight of his palm, Bertholdt flinches like a mad horse, eyes rolling, whites showing. It is owed to exhaustion, to that constant gnawing of blackness at the edges of his optic nerves, that he doesn’t try to break free again. He is spent. What fight he had in him, what spirits he was wrestling to death, it’s all gone away. Left him in the crater, again. That seems his nature. He is the thing that remains after the conflict is burned away. So much like a child, abandoned by the thing that birthed it. But for once his searching hand doesn’t run into nothing, not like a slow dagger or a pulled punch.

He finds a body there, right next to him. Porco settles by his side, drags him down by the trembling arm, that support beam that threatens to break. Bertholdt imagines that, bones splintering under the strain, flesh torn and twisted by his comrade’s grip. It would fit them, wouldn’t it? They are damaged goods. They are good at damage. His jaw still aches. That must be why he is on the floor. Porco has a good right hook these days. But he is here, in the aftermath. They are heaped upon each other like jetsam, washed ashore.

Bertholdt is a heaving, grotesque figure, spilled unfavorably, too long and too large, sunken against a steady chest. He must have hurt him. No man can sit in the wreckage with bloody knuckles and gasping breath and not feel the lacerations of proximity, of all the stupid, hateful things Bertholdt said. And he knows he said them to hurt, to jab and scratch, to get Porco the fuck away from him. But Porco, his Porco, would never allow that. He doesn’t sit and take a beating, does he? He retaliates. Bertholdt can’t sink his teeth into him without immediately feeling claws burrow into his chest, to the heart, always to the heart. Porco asks a very important question with every punch, every bellow and shove.

Who the fuck do you think you are?

And Bertholdt, without fail, can’t answer. So when he wakes, when the fog clears and the red haze recedes, he’s here again, clinging to Porco’s shoulders, so sorry, so ashamed. Who in their right mind sticks around for this roadside freak show?

“I should be,” He mutters, his voice a hollow crack in Bertholdt’s throat, a gust of hot breath against Porco’s. “You don’t deserve this. You’ve never... Not you. I shouldn’t be angry at you. I’m not. I don’t think I am.” He draws his breath as if he has anything to impart but this stammering, jammed apology.

Instead he smiles, attempts to appease, as if Porco isn’t running his fingers through sweat-soaked hair, as if he isn’t already holding him, enduring him again and again. Bertholdt gestures limply to his jawline, where it pulses with the heat of impact. “You got me really good there. Still feel it.”

#oh to be absolutely decimated by ur lover #jawlost #;;sh. bertholdt & porco : jawlost — wie die faust auf's auge.#;;v. god of destruction

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senstia · 4 years ago

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Hii!! I love your page!! Do you do headcanons? If so: drunk neil w the foxes and andrew?? Again i love your page!❤️❤️

Hi!! Thank you so much! People don’t ask for them often but i’m always happy to do them!!

-Pls excuse my terrible grammar, punctuation and writing in general loll im very bad

-but anyway i love drunk neil hes the cutest boy ever and neil will always have my whole heart (and Andrews)

Here you go!!

The foxes decided to play 21 questions. It was Allison and Nicky’s idea. Neil attempted to opt out but they would have none of that. Neil wasn’t one to drink and since Nicky and Allison’s version of 21 questions involved a lot of shots he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about it. Losing control wasn’t something Neil was used to but all the foxes looked so happy and he knew Andrew would make sure he was safe so in the end he decided he’d play.

“Andrew your turn!” Nicky yelled enthusiastically. He may have pre-gamed the game a little bit.

“Not playing,” Andrew said. Neil was sitting on the floor below him looking nervously excited and already slightly flushed from the alcohol making its way through his system. Andrew wondered what kind of a drunk Neil was. Hopefully he wasn’t an angry drunk.

“Fine, fine i’ll go again. Ummmm lets see oooh oh i got one! Never have I ever kissed a girl before!”

Allison, Renee, Aaron, Matt and Kevin all downed their shots immediately. Neil frowned down at his drink but slowly tipped it back and swallowed.

“Wait pause, Neil you’ve kissed a girl before?” Matt asked. Andrew tried to hide the curiosity from his face as he looked down at Neil.

“A couple,” Neil mumbled, embarrassed.

“A couple?? Neil is a player! I’m offended you never told us! Must not have been that great since you decided to swing the other way huh?” Nicky blabbered.

Neil flushed bright red. “I already said I didn’t swing and I don’t. Those girls were nothing. Andrew is different.” Neil said. He knew the alcohol was making his tongue looser but there was no way for him to control it at this point.

“Different how?” Allison said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at Neil.

“Don’t answer that,” Andrew snapped at Neil.

“Well, i’m still offended. I thought I was your first kiss!” Nicky shouted. Apparently alcohol made Nicky louder than normal.

“Your first- what? You’ve kissed Neil?” Dan asked incredulously.

“Yeah well...” Nicky paused and looked up at Andrew. Andrew was leaned over closer to him and giving him a death glare.

“Go on Nicky,” Andrew said.

“Please don’t kill me,” Nicky squeaked out.

Andrew pulled a knife out of his armband and started twirling it in his hand. “Explain.”

Allison was continuously feeding Neil shots as they watched this confrontation.

“Well you see, we may or may not have kissed a few times the first time we took him to Columbia,” Nicky said, looking terrified.

“I thought I told you to keep your hands off him?” Andrew said, cocking his head.

“You told me to give him the cracker dust so I did!”

“I didn’t realize that included kissing,” Andrew said.

“Okay yeah so I may have taken advantage of the situation a little bit. But I mean come on can you blame me? Neil is beautiful, like male model beautiful. I just couldn’t help myself! And besides you weren’t even into him back then!”

Aaron wrinkled his nose in disgust at the words. Neil looked perplexed by the whole situation. Andrew looked murderous.

Andrew stared at him in silence with death in his eyes. He wanted to deny what Nicky had said but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Neil back then, even with the hair and contacts.

“Oh. Oh. You were into him back then? I-I mean um well I thought you hated him when you two met?”

“I did.”

Nicky looked extremely confused and Andrew wanted to stab him so bad his hands were shaking.

“It’s called sexual attraction Nicky. Leave him be,” Renee said softly but not quietly.

Andrew glared at Renee but stayed silent.

“Right um I-I apologize. Please don’t kill me. Please.” Nicky said weakly.

“If you ever get anywhere near him again or compliment him like that again I will stab you in your sleep.”

Nicky squeaked and recoiled from Andrew but nodded his head vigorously.

Neil was just looking up at Andrew in wonder and awe. Andrew glanced down at him and raised his brows but Neil just kept staring. Andrew just rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Okay next round, Kevin’s turn!” Allison said.

The next few rounds went by with little to no drama and Neil knew he was completely trashed. Every thought he usually kept in his head was managing to make its way out of his mouth and he had no way to stop it. Andrew was always beautiful and Neil always loved him but it was like the alcohol was making every feeling he had for Andrew increase tenfold and he was having a really hard time trying to keep those feelings to himself.

Neil contented himself with staring at Andrew in awe. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how perfect his boyfriend was.

“Look at how he’s looking at him!” Allison loudly whispered to Renee happily.

Everyone in the room heard that and they all moved their attention to Neil. Neil was sipping a mixed drink and staring at Andrew like he put the stars in the sky. Andrew was trying as hard as he could to ignore this and was staring intently at the wall.

“Neil what are you looking at?” Allison said. She was an instigator at heart and loved seeing Neil fawn over Andrew. Neil looked over at the rest of the group like he hadn’t realized any other humans existed besides Andrew.

Neil sighed, “My boyfriend,” he said dreamily.

Nicky squealed and the only person who wasn’t grinning widely at Neil was Aaron. Even Kevin looked mildly amused. Andrew just looked down at Neil with a blank face.

“Why are you staring at Andrew Neil?” Nicky asked already getting excited by what his response might be.

“Because I love him,” Neil said with a huge smile on his face. Everyone was squealing and smiling at this and Aaron looked at Neil with something like disbelief on his face.

Andrew fought tooth and nail to keep his expression unreadable but he felt like his insides were being stuffed with sunshine.

“Stop that,” Andrew said and flicked Neil’s nose.

Matt frowned at this. He knew Neil knew what he was doing and he was sure Andrew was different when they were alone but he did think Neil deserved someone who could be a little more affectionate.

Neil noticed Matt’s frown and stage whispered, “Don’t worry Andrew says he loves me all the time, he just doesn’t show anyone else his soft side.”

Everyone started cracking up laughing at this. Neil peeked up at Andrew hoping he didn’t anger him. His mouth was getting really hard to control at this point.

“Sorry,” Neil whispered to Andrew.

Neil was looking at Andrew with the biggest puppy eyes and Andrew knew he was so screwed. Andrew thought to hell with it and brought his hand to Neil’s cheekbone. Neil nodded happily at Andrew and Andrew began stroking his cheek. He leaned in and softly brushed his lips against Neil’s. Neil let out a contented sigh and melted into the kiss. After a moment Andrew pulled back to look at Neil.

Neil pouted, “More,” he whined.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “You’re drunk.”

“Drew I want, I want...” Neil said helplessly.

“What?”

Neil leaned close to Andrew’s neck and paused. Andrew muttered a soft yes and Neil brushed his lips against Andrew’s neck. “All of you,” Neil whispered.

Andrew stood abruptly and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“Drewww,” Neil whined loudly.

“Oh my god, oh my god. He has a nickname for him! I’m gonna die it’s so cute,” Nicky said excitedly nudging Kevin over and over to get him to watch Neil and Andrew. Matt, Dan, and Allison were all squealing in excitement at the spectacle and Renee was smiling quietly.

“Drink,” Andrew said and shoved the water bottle into Neil’s hand.

“Does this mean we can have sex?” Neil said excitedly. Aaron choked on his drink and cringed at this.

Andrew lightly smacked Neil on the side of his head. “Shut it. Drink your water.”

“Drewww.”

Andrew glared at him, “What?”

Neil scooted up closer to Andrew’s seat and whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “You’re really really beautiful.”

“If you’re trying to seduce me it’s not working,” Andrew said.

Neil cocked his head to the side dramatically. “Last time I said that you let me-“ Andrew put his hand over Neil’s mouth and Neil kept speaking beneath it.

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Andrew took his hand off Neil’s mouth thinking Neil was done but Neil finished his sentence aloud.

“-under five minutes, so I thought it worked,” Neil finished.

Nicky opened his mouth to say something and Andrew glared at him. “Say one word and you’re dead.”

Everyone was attempting to keep their laughs under control as Neil talked to Andrew.

Andrew got up again and Neil whined in protest. “Calm down i’m just getting you more water,” Andrew said as he stalked off.

Andrew came back and handed Neil another water bottle.

“Drewwww,” Neil said. Andrew just stared at him with raised brows.

“I love you. You’re the best person in the wholeeee wide world. And you’re also really really pretty. And your arms are super muscular. And you have beautiful eyes. And your hair is super soft. And I love that tiny freckle you have on your a-“ Andrew smacked his hand over Neil’s mouth again.

Andrew picked Neil up bridal style and growled, “We’re leaving.”

As Andrew walked out of the apartment with Neil in his arms Neil looked over his shoulder and waved happily at the foxes.

All the foxes just laughed at Neil and waved back at him.

Andrew plopped Neil down on their bed and stared down at him. Neil couldn’t remember anything he had just said but he had a hunch he had said some things he shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry,” Neil said softly, wishing he was sober right now for about a hundred different reasons. The water had made it into his system enough that he was more aware of everything around him but he still felt off.

“Shut up. Yes or no?”

“Yes. Always yes,” Neil said breathlessly.

Andrew just sat down next to Neil on the bed and kissed him once softly on the lips. Neil sighed.

“Are you mad at me?” Neil asked.

“No. I love you.”

“Hug. Yes or no?” Neil asked.

Andrew just nodded and Neil wrapped him in a tight embrace. They stayed wrapped in each others arms for long minutes and right before Neil pulled back he whispered, “I love you too,” against Andrew’s neck.

Andrew got his answer. Neil was a sappy drunk.

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