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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

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📋 Hello I am putting a formal request in for more Chris Saves Himself AU ft Mama Nakamura taking him I’m home only to realize the full situation

Continuing the Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two |

CW: Grief, memory loss, recovering whumpee, some very brief and very vague references to noncon, minor whumpee (OC is 17), angsty fluff, reunion

It takes six days for the cops to let Akio's mom bring Tristan back to their house.

He's ready to be discharged from the hospital by day two, but there's nowhere for him to go. WRU is still saying there's no record of his existence, even with the barcode on his wrist. Tristan's only known living relative, Joanne Botham, is claiming he ran away from home and she had no idea what happened to him, that what she had told the Nakamura family was out of frustration and anger at Tristan for disappearing. The governor is out on bail facing charges for keeping Tristan in the mansion in the first place.

There are a lot of charges.

Akio feels by turns numb and enraged when he hears a news anchor read them out loud, bloodless words that don't seem to reflect at all how serious their meanings are.

The first few, he can process - false imprisonment, bodily assault - but then they keep going, and they get worse in ways Akio can barely even begin to imagine.

What Tristan has lived through... Akio's brain refuses to let it coalesce fully, but he has nightmares, dreams about Tristan screaming for him and being on the other side of a door Aki can't open.

He dreams about hands on Tristan's body and the way he might have screamed for help. Akio wakes up crying, retching, running to the bathroom to throw up whatever he's eaten that day as if he can rid himself of the poison of knowing.

His mom calls a therapist.

His father tells him to stop watching the news.

Akio just waits until they're in bed and searches for everything he can find on twitter, on reddit, on every-fucking-place anyone is talking about this. And it's everywhere.

He stops telling his parents about his nightmares after the second night.

Oliver Branch says WRU sold him a product they knew was outside the bounds of the law and lied to him about it. WRU says they don't know what he could possibly mean by that and they have no paperwork or documentation that Tris was ever in the system at all, and if he was, then there must have been a mistake about his age. They swear they'll do a total review of every single Box Boy, Babe, or Buddy to ensure absolute compliance.

The soundbites make Akio's mouth dry.

How many are there, then? If they have to keep looking to find more? How many like Tristan?

How many?

Joanne Botham, who never answers Aimi's furious calls and then changes her number after the second day, goes on TV and says she did nothing wrong and there's no proof that anything happened except maybe Tristan lying about his name and age to make WRU agree to take him in. Oliver Branch says he has the proof WRU knew, and he'll provide it in exchange for immunity.

They all point fingers at each other on national television, in press conferences and through their attorneys.

Through it all, Tristan sits in a hospital bed staring out the window at the blue sky as though it will be stolen from him all over again, waiting to be told where to go, what to do.

And it takes Aimi nearly a week to get the police to agree to allow her to take him home. She brings everything she can think of to meetings with the detectives heading up the case, shows them reams of team photos and home movies, folders and folders of everything Aimi and Mrs. Higgs had ever talked about or done together with the boys.

The hospital needs the room, needs the bed. The detectives don't want to put him into foster care when he barely seems to understand he's a person. The social services people won't take him because they're not equipped to handle a situation like this one. The adjustment houses don't want him because of something to do with what kind of Boxie he was, and Aimi doesn't elaborate and something in the set of her expression makes it clear Akio shouldn't ask.

After a week of mostly just being able to look at him through the small little square window in the hospital room's door, Aimi finally gets legal permission to take him out of there.

Akio isn't prepared for the slew of news vans that are there when he and Aimi arrive, someone having tipped off reporters that they might get a glance of the governor's secret Box Boy today. Aimi, though, simply sets her shoulders, slides a pair of dark sunglasses on, and walks through the crowd like a queen with her head held high, a small duffel bag handle in hand.

Akio hurries behind her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, hood pulled over his head, trying to ignore ten thousand camera flashes. It's so much worse than the leadup to the Olympics would have been, if he were still performing at elite.

Or at all.

He has a strange, surreal hope that Tris won't be disappointed in him for quitting after Tris died.

Even though he's not dead.

They step into the hospital room around 10 in the morning to find Tristan not in the bed, but sitting on the couch built into the wall under the window, curled up on the crinkly plastic cushions to look out the window, humming low, soft and tuneless.

The hum makes Akio's heart ache with a sudden realization that this odd waking dream he's been living for a week isn't a dream at all. Tears flood his eyes and he has to blink them away as fast as he can. He's heard that hum in his ear as kids during sleepovers, he's heard it when Tris was nervous before performing a new routine, he's heard it while they waited anxiously for scores or studied for school.

"Hey, sweetheart," Aimi says, her voice low and soft, but even so Tris jumps and turns to look at them with wide, startled eyes. One hand goes up to his neck, and Akio swallows when he sees Tris has wrapped gauze around his neck to sit like the collar he was wearing when he fell from the governor's bedroom balcony.

Akio watched the cell phone video that made the rounds over and over and over again. The flash of red hair, shirtless, the bruises he was covered with, his hazy drugged eyes. Over and over and over again.

Watch him fall, watch him land, watch the people run to him and get him out of there when Akio has been sitting here crying his eyes to red half the time for a dead best friend who wasn't dead at all.

"H, Hello," Tristan says, but he doesn't know them. Akio can tell, the way his eyes move between them is uncertain, unsure. "Hello, ma'am. Can, can, can I, what..." He swallows, shivering, and Akio watches the fear move across his face. "What... what can I... do for you?"

His slowed-down voice makes Akio feel sick. He's only ever seen Tristan do that when he's with people who don't understand him or love him for who he is. Now it seems like it's the only way he remembers how to talk.

All Tristan's muscles from gymnastics are gone, leaving only faded shadows of his strength behind. He's skinny, so pale he nearly reflects the light from the ceiling. His freckles are faded, and his hair is shorter than Tris ever liked it.

Being so thin makes his eyes even bigger, they seem to overwhelm the rest of his face.

"Honey, we're going to take you to our house," Aimi says, keeping her voice the same low gentle cadence. "While we figure out what happens next. Aki and I will be taking care of you for a while. How's that sound? Would that be okay?"

Tristan looks between them again, and something shifts in his face. A kind of desperation moves there, and he turns more fully to face them, leaning over a little to look up at them. Hair falls over his forehead, and his hands move to rub over the texture of a loose pair of sweatpants someone gave him to wear under his hospital gown. "To... your house? Would I be... yours?"

He looks at Akio again, and there's something in his face that says he sees that as the best case scenario, that he was ready for far, far worse than simply changing owners. That he's... hoping he'll be Akio's property now.

Akio's stomach flips at the thought and he has to put a hand over his mouth and turn away, catching the sob before it can make its way up out of his throat.

Aimi's arm moves around his shoulders instinctively, and she leans over, pressing a kiss to her son's short black hair. "It's okay," Aimi whispers. "It'll be hard at first. But it's going to be okay, Aki. Saishūtekini wa daijōbudesu. Tristan wa mada anata no shin'yūdesu."

Tristan, sitting on the little couch, blinks a few times. "Friend," he says in English, a little haltingly. "Shin' yu. Means... best friend." He scoots closer to them along the couch, and his eyes are so big and so very, very green. Just how Akio always remembered them.

Aimi's head raises and turns to look at him, her arm tightening around Aki, breath catching in her throat. "You remember that?"

"No." Tristan shakes his head. Scoots a little closer, even. "Yes. I don't know why. Are you..." He looks at Akio. "Wa-... watashitachiha... sh-shin, um, shin-shin'yūdeshita. Yes? Did I-... did I say it right?"

Tristan's Japanese was never great, he'd just picked up some here and there from all the time he spent around the Nakamuras at home and in their car. They used to lay awake at night during sleepovers practicing over and over until Tristan had a new phrase to impress Aimi with.

But hearing his voice, his living breathing real live voice, sounding out the words...

It's too much.

It's too fucking much.

"Yeah, um, y-yeah, you-..." Akio's words are suddenly gone. He chokes on his fear that this somehow is a dream he will wake up from to find Tris still cold in some unknown open grave, and he can't keep the tears back any longer.

His knees buckle under the onslaught of grief and hope and fear and love, and he drops to the cold tile hospital floor, hands pressed over his mouth until his lips are pushed painfully into his teeth, and he wails, muffled but loud enough that there's rustling as the cops guarding the door turn to look inside through the viewing window.

Aimi drops into a crouch behind him, rubbing at his back as he curls over himself. Her voice trembles with tears she doesn't shed. Akio remembers the days after they were told Tristan was dead, how she would cry in her room at night with Aki's dad when he was home from work, but somehow when he and Emi were bawling their heads off, her voice stayed calm, she kept her composure.

Right up until she was alone.

Now, though, she's barely hanging on as her son sobs on a hospital room floor before the emptied-out shell of his best friend.

Bare feet pad along the floor until Tristan drops down in front of him, reaching slowly out. Cool fingertips touch the back of Akio's hand, and he pulls them slowly down to look and see Tristan only a foot or so away from him, kneeling, watching him.

"I know you," Tristan whispers. "It hurts, but... I know... you. Don't, um, don't I?"

Akio can barely see him through the tears that have turned the world to watercolor suggestions. Nothing's in focus. But he grabs onto Tristan's hand, those familiar always-cold fingers, and holds tight.

"You know m-me," He manages. "You do, Tris. You know me. We-... we know you. We want to t-t-take you h-home."

Tristan tilts his head to the side, and it's such a familiar gesture, one he was so sure he'd never get to see again. "My... name is Baldur," He says, softly. "My Sir named me-"

"Please don't call him that. Can you... can you answer to Tristan? Please?" Akio is the one to reach out this time, touching Tristan's shoulder, hesitant. Waiting for him to pull back and away, to flinch like he's been doing when they watch him with the nurses.

Instead, Tris takes a breath and leans into the touch.

"It hurts," He says. "But, but, but, but-... but I can try."

Akio nods, and then Tristan is moving forward, and their arms are around each other and Akio is scared of himself for a second, scared of the welling of feelings he can't control. He's afraid he'll crack Tristan's ribs with how tightly he holds on.

Tristan's face buries itself against his neck, into the crook of his shoulder.

"I missed you so much," Akio whispers against the coppery hair. He's going to start crying again. He can hear his mom sniffing behind him, digging into her purse to pull out the little pack of tissues she always has in there. "I missed you so, so much, Tris."

"I think... I think I, I, I missed you, too," Tristan whispers back, and Akio isn't sure if he can even know if he means it, but he also knows that it's so good to hear the words that he doesn't even care.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

#whump #chris saves himself AU #chris the strawberry blond romantic #akio nakamura #rescued whumpee #escaped whumpee #recovering whumpee #memory loss #dehumanized whumpee #reference to collars #grief tw #referenced death #caretaker and whumpee #memory recovery #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #box boy whump #minor whumpee

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thecousinsdangereux · 4 years ago

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the land of race car ya yas

A short little ficlet for @corvophobia who has drawn a bunch of art for the bees racer au of my dreams. This is ALL based on her drawings, so make sure you check out her stuff. Happy birthday, Amber! You are one of my two favorite British children. <3

(Please note that I know nothing about street racing. I've only watched the Fast and the Furious movies. Forgive me....)

“How’d you do that?”

Blake’s used to the question or some version of it, and maybe that’s why she takes in the words before she notices the tone, imagines a scowl (a lowered brow, hands curled into fists, the flash of teeth as the scowl turns into a snarl) with the same instinct that has her shoulders tensing. It’s only mid-turn that she realizes the question is laced with wonder rather than anger, but even this awareness doesn’t prepare her for the sight that meets her. It’s a woman, her smile wide and unrestrained by pesky things like self-consciousness or insecurity, and her eyes are nearly glowing in the low light, purple and bright and full of open admiration. Her black leather jacket, classic in cut, has the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm, revealing a prosthetic of black and yellow, and her grey jeans are tight, showing off a body that Blake has to work to avoid following the curves of. Her hair is long, blonde, curling around her shoulders and down her back, artful in its disorder, down to the single, stubborn cowlick at the top of her head.

In short, she’s beautiful, and Blake stares for longer than she should, feeling heat in her veins.

“Do what?”

She manages a response, but it’s absent minded. She’s just noticed the light dusting of pink on the woman’s cheeks, coloring the spaces in between her freckles, and it has her re-evaluating, pulling her thoughts to the effort she’s put into her own outfit that evening: a cropped and sleeveless hoodie with blocked colors of white and purple, tight leather shorts, and clunky boots that hit just under the knee. Blake looks good and this woman knows it, which makes them even on this particular front, and that's a settling sort of feeling.

“Win,” the woman says simply, her smile growing. “And don’t just say NOS.”

“NOS,” Blake drawls, just because she can, and she’s rewarded by the woman’s laugh, rewarded even more when she steps closer.

“No, but what’s your delivery method? Direct port, obviously, but you had to have used a custom kit, right? I’ve been telling you, Yang, I need to recalibrate yours. Can I look at your car? Would you mind if I just took a tiny peak just to see what you’ve done with your injection site? We really need to upgrade, Yang. A nozzle with less back pressure will give you a better squeeze. I’ve been telling you!”

She hadn’t noticed the other woman, but blinks at her now, a red blur waving her arms about, hoping from one foot to the other, firing out words faster than Blake — an aficionado of all things fast — can keep up with. The woman (Yang?) seems to find the act familiar and reacts with affection tinged with a false exasperation (put upon for Blake’s benefit or maybe as a means of gentle chiding), sighing and placing a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder.

“And I’ve been telling you, you can’t just ask people to look at their shit!” She turns to Blake now, and this time her eye roll is definitely for Blake. “Sorry about that, I swear we’re not trying to steal any of your trade secrets. Ruby just… really likes cars.”

“It’s so pretty too,” Ruby coos, batting away Yang’s hand and taking a step towards the vehicle Blake had used to push past Yang at the last moment, a fact neither of these women seem to hold against her. “The purple stripes. But I bet the engine is prettier.”

It’s unprecedented, really. Blake’s been on the scene for a while — longer than she would admit to anyone here — first as a tagalong and now as a driver, but she’s never had an encounter quite like this. The unexpectedness of it all has her feeling off-balance, has her reacting without any of her customary cool anger as Ruby stares at her hood (as though if she focuses hard enough, she’ll be able to see through the metal to the parts underneath). Maybe that’s why Blake responds in a way that’s decidedly unwise, without any further thought at all.

“You can take a look. I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Ruby squeals, but doesn’t wait for Blake to confirm, darting around her and flipping open the hood in the span of three seconds.

“Really?” Yang asks, and the word sounds wildly different coming from her, sliding out from behind her crooked lips like thanks or maybe a challenge (or maybe both). “Not worried about my mechanic figuring you out before the next race?”

Blake should be, of course. But.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Maybe not the smartest move.” Yang crosses her arms; the chrome of her right glints under one of the flickering street lights. For the first time, she looks away from Blake’s gaze, eyes darting over to check on Ruby (who’s leaning so far into the front of Blake’s car that her feet nearly lift off the ground) and then to another group of drivers, a good distance behind them, but clearly watching in curiosity. It’s never wise to gather after a race, but everyone always does when it goes well, and for the first time, Blake’s glad for it. “She’s pretty vicious about giving me an edge. I wish I could say it was familial loyalty, but really, she just wants to make the fastest car in the city.” Yang pauses, tilting her head in thought. “Or country. Or world. Not sure when she’ll be satisfied, to be honest.”

“Sisters?” Blake asks. She can’t really see the resemblance, but then again, she hasn’t spent as much time looking at the younger of the pair, even though she should probably be less focused on the elder (the one not pouring over her engine. Sun and Ilia were going to kill her).

“Yeah.” Yang probably doesn’t realize how much her smile grows in the confirmation, saturated with pride and love. “Scary brilliant too. Give her five minutes with a car and she’ll take it apart, put it back together, and it’ll run better than it ever has. But all that means she always thinks it’s the car that puts a driver ahead.”

Blake arches a brow. “And you think she’s… wrong?”

“Well, yeah.” Yang’s closer than Blake remembers her being, maybe because her legs are long, her strides somehow longer, and it only takes a step before she’s close enough for Blake to feel the heat radiating off her body. “I know it’s only the driver that puts a driver ahead. That’s why I’m here talking to you instead of looking at your car.” Her lips twitch and she amends her statement quickly. “Part of the reason, at least.”

The other part of her reasoning is made pretty obvious when Yang’s eyes trace up Blake’s form once more. It should probably bother Blake, but it doesn’t, maybe because she’s done the same to Yang during this conversation (more than once). Still, there are things better avoided, and Blake knows this better than anyone. She does her best to get back on track.

“It wasn’t me,” she says (almost blurts), and then feels her neck warm when Yang looks at her quizzically. “Before, you asked how I won. But it wasn’t me, not really. You could have had it if you hadn’t fired your nitrous early. You were impatient.”

It’s too blunt, Blake knows this as soon as the words leave her lips. She’s backtracked too much, retreated into aloofness as she was wont to do, but Yang only laughs, and the sound cracks through Blake’s go-to defense, a corner of her lips curling before she can stop it.

“You’re right. I used to be way worse, back when I started out, but I’m a lot better now. Usually.”

“So what happened today?” It’s the question Yang wants her to ask, of this Blake is sure, but it hardly feels like a chore.

“Ah, bad luck, I guess. I took one look at the driver next to me and all that impatience came rushing back. All I wanted to do was finish the race and meet her properly.” She winks. Combined with the cheesy line, it shouldn’t work as well as it does (but it does). “I’m Yang.”

“Blake.”

They don’t shake hands, and Blake’s glad for it. There’s something buzzing between them, a tingling sensation at the tips of her fingers, the build up right before a lightning strike, and Blake’s not entirely sure what the contact — however brief and friendly — might do to her.

“Next time, maybe I’ll be a little more prepared.” Yang’s eyes roam across her face, settling once more on gold. “But probably not.”

“Immersion therapy,” Blake quips. “Give it time.”

Yang whistles sharply, and it takes Blake a moment to realize that she’s called her sister back over. (Blake had forgotten about her entirely, though the grease on her hands and face leads her to believe that Ruby had done a thorough dive under her hood, the sort Blake ought to be worried about.)

“Time is exactly what I plan on giving it. A lot of time, if you’ll let me.” Yang nudges her sister back in the direction they’d come from. Ruby waves, offers a wide grin of thanks, but Blake’s stuck on purple.

“Well. Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she murmurs.

“Looking forward to it.”

And Blake, who started racing to get away, who started racing to run, who started racing so she never had to stay in one place for long, finds that she is too.

—

“What the hell is your problem?”

Blake’s used to this question too, or some form of it, and this time, the tone is exactly what she expects. The small, white-haired woman in a vest and tie, however, is not.

“Listen, I’m sorry I hurt your boyfriend’s feelings by being a better driver than him, but you’re only embarrassing yourself now.” Blake takes another look at the woman’s attire; her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and — despite the country club hairstyle and the heels — the hint of a tattoo on her pale skin, just under the fabric makes up Blake’s mind for her. “Or… Girlfriend?”

“Not quite,” says a familiar voice.

Today, Yang has decided to show off her abs (and she most certainly does have abs) with a cropped jacket of black and gold checks, and Blake can’t quite bring herself to look beyond that for too long, though she catches the black driving gloves, the oversized and gold sunglasses, the oversized cargo pants. In the seconds it takes for Blake to wind her brain back up, Yang grins, cocksure, and continues.

“Though you were right about the gay thing. I mean, look at her.”

“Look at you,” the other woman sniffs, actually physically turning up her nose. “Could you be any gayer?”

“Yeah, I could be wearing a vest and tie,” Yang fires back, but it’s clear the banter is familiar, it’s obvious these two know each other well enough for their back and forth to not contain any real barbs.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Blake drawls, before she’s able to stop herself, and Yang turns back to her with an arched brow. “Good to see you again, Yang.”

“Oh, is it? Could have fooled me!” The other woman’s ire has been refocused, and it’s seemingly stronger than before, the pitch of her words higher, more dire. “Given you nearly killed her just now.”

“Weiss,” Yang sighs, but Blake winces, feeling the sting of the words despite Yang’s quick glance of reassurance sent her way.

“I didn’t realize you’d pull off when I drifted. I thought you’d… lean in.”

It’s not an excuse. They’d been neck and neck towards the end of the race (again), and when she’d nudged the side of Yang’s car — far gentler than she would against anyone else — she’d assumed the woman would give as good as she got, like most every other racer she’d gone against. But Yang hadn’t taken any chances, and it’d cost her the race.

“We don’t do that here,” the woman — Weiss — says, lips pursed to the point of contortion, but Yang only laughs.

“We do that here all the time. I did way worse to Mercury last week.”

“Yes, but Mercury is a creep.” Weiss pauses, considering. “We only do that to creeps here.”

Blake’s hands lift, a show of peace. “Hey, no one handed me the Beacon Street Racing Etiquette Guide when I joined up the other week. Maybe you could loan me your copy.”

This doesn’t exactly smooth things over with the woman, especially not when Yang snickers, but Weiss can clearly see the writing on the wall, and tosses her hair over her shoulder with a huff.

“Whatever. I’m telling Ruby about this,” she warns Yang (or maybe Blake, or maybe both of them), before stalking away, her last words called over her shoulder. “She’s not going to be happy.”

There’s no concern on Yang’s face as she watches her go, if anything she looks amused. “Sorry about that. She’s… protective.”

“I can see that. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been friends with someone for a while.” It’s a guess (and a probe), but Yang doesn’t correct any of her phrasing, so it must be close enough to the truth.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean protective of me.” Yang’s grin shows a flash of white teeth. “Weiss bet on me tonight. You lost her money. And that’s the real sin.”

Blake’s surprised at how easily her laugh comes (more surprised how easily the fondness slips through the cracks in her chest). “Oh, I see. So I can kick your ass up and down the streets as long as I convince her to bet on me in the future? Good to know.”

“I’m not sure that’s the message I want you to be taking from this,” Yang drawls, but still smiles, flicking her glasses up to her forehead. “Besides, like she said, Ruby’s the one to look out for. She seemed all sweet and innocent yesterday, but gods help the person she turns her disapproving stare on. I’ve seen people break into tears on the spot.”

From what Blake had seen yesterday, Ruby isn’t the sort that loses her chipper bounce very easily, so despite Yang’s teasing tone, she files the information away as useful. If she were being a little more self-searching, she might question the action, given her tendency to not stick around in any one place for long. (Surely Beacon isn’t any different. Surely she couldn’t know now if it were.)

“Lucky she missed the race today, then.” Her lips curve, a sharp corner that would require a drift. “What, she couldn’t bear to see you lose again?”

“Oh, ha ha. No, she had class. And she knows there’s no skipping for racing; that’s the only hard and fast rule for our household.” It’s not what she expects, the straight answer backed with genuinity, but it strikes Blake as endearing, somehow, especially when Yang continues. “I started racing here so we could pay for those classes, so I think it’s only fair.”

“That’s — ” Kind. Authentic. Surprising. Blake’s not sure which word to use so she disgards them all. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type who was racing for the money. Not that… there’s anything wrong with that. Especially in your case.”

Yang laughs. “Hey, don’t mistake me. I started racing here for the money, but it’s not why I race in general.”

“So why do you?” Blake asks, even though she suspects she knows the answer. (It’s not wise to take your eyes off the road, but she’s done it in both of her races with Yang, eyes darting to the side to find the woman speeding alongside her: eyes wild, grin wide, the fervor of the moment all over her face. There’s freedom there, more than there is anywhere else, and Blake thinks she sees that in Yang as much as she does in herself.)

“Same as you, I think,” Yang murmurs, closer now, sliding in when Blake’s distracted once again.

“I’m not sure you know me well enough to say that.”

A bluff, of course, but it gets the intended result.

“Not yet.” From this close, Yang looks taller, and Blake has to tilt her chin to look into her eyes. “But I’m still looking to fix that.”

Blake wets her lips. It’s too much, and she’s not sure she can tack on ‘too soon’ to quantify the thought, make it less tame. If she had to guess, Yang will always be too much, like sunlight after coming out of a room. Blake’s not sure she’ll ever adjust to the rays, or if she wants to.

“Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she says again, and Yang laughs again, totally unabashed.

“Okay, I’m sensing a trend here. What, you’re not going to let me take you out unless I win a race again you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, what are you going to do?”

It’s not cockiness that overtakes Yang’s face then, not exactly. It’s confidence or want or determination or maybe just the flush that comes from the thrill of a challenge. Blake’s setting herself up for something here, she knows, failure or disappointment or something like it, but right then, she doesn’t care. There’s a freedom in this sort of race too, and that she’s come to love.

“Oh, that’s easy, Blake.” Yang leans in a little more, and Blake knows it’s audible, the way her breath is cut short. “I’m going to win.”

#bumbleby #writing #rwby #bees racer au #for #corvophobia #<33333 #just a little something for a birthday treat

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opossumanonymous · 3 years ago

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How did things get so messed up?

Warnings: Talk of murder, a single swear, Inko just sometimes thinks about murder, uh vigilante Izuku

Black Widow Inko! Part 2 featuring Dad Might vs Dad for One! This is honestly just Crack with a plot...

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

It seemed like yesterday he was in that hospital room meeting his son for the first time. Inko holding their sons tiny body, tears welling in her eyes as she beckoned him closer.

He walked over with no hesitation fully ready to meet Izuku (The name chosen by Inko who got to pick after winning a bet).

Sitting down next to his tired wife he stared down at the infant in wonder. The tiny human they'd waited 9 months for was finally here. Hizashi almost didn't know how to act for a second, so caught up in looking at the tufts of green hair and freckles covering small cheeks.

Reaching out Hizashi gently caressed Izuku's little face with a single finger causing the baby to let out a coo. He grabbed his father's finger in his little fist nearly bringing the 200 year old man to tears.

If asked that's how that day went to Hizashi of course Inko remembers him nearly flooding the hospital room but Hizashi would never admit that.

Tears or not that day Hizashi knew he would protect them with his life so how....how did things get so messed up?!

How did he end up sitting across from his arch nemesis?!

How did Izuku out of everyone in Japan end up with one for all?!

And most importantly how did All Might end up seducing his goddess Inko?!?!

Seriously Hizashi just couldn't understand how she could be with such a lowlife, she must not know who he is.

Never before had Hizashi felt such a deep burning hatred for anyone.

Currently he was sitting on the couch in his and Inko's apartment while she and All Might sat on the adjacent couch. No one spoke until Inko finally cleared her throat.

"Toshi this is my ex hus-"

"Current Husband."

She looked at him with eyes full of fire and a voice full of venom as she spoke. "You forfeited that title the second you thought not calling for 12 years was a good idea."

"...."

She always knew what to say to shut him up especially when she was angry. One of the things that interested him in Inko at first was how unlike most she got incredibly smart when angry.

She also got more sadistic, he could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she calculated all the ways she could kill him.

In this house he was not the devil no, the cute green haired woman sitting across from him was. In fact the murderous aura around her was very concerning, not that he feared for his life with witnesses around. He knew she'd be angry but he'd hoped him getting on his knees and begging for forgiveness would work like last time.

Meanwhile Toshinori was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. At first when he walked into the apartment after a date night he was shocked to find none other than All for One standing in his living room. He quickly pushed Inko behind him ready to defend her against Japan's greatest villain.

While he no longer held one for all that wouldn't stop him from protecting his wife with all he had. How did All for One break out of tartarus anyway?

And just how did he look like this?

All for one looked the way he did before their battle where he smashed his upper face in. All for one, who last they spoke had no eyes, hair and barely a nose now had all of that back and even looked a few years younger.

Each and every person in this room was plotting how to kill someone. Thankfully this day they'd all walk away unscathed.

Mainly because they all had a secret to hide from eachother.

Inko didn't want Toshinori to know about her past, Toshinori didn't want Inko to know who her ex was, and Hizashi didn't want to anger his wife further by revealing any of her secrets. (He may have been criminally insane but he wasn't stupid)

After all one does not rat out their ex-assassin wife's past to her new husband who is also the ex-symbol of peace. Lest they both team up, beat your ass and throw you back in prison or just straight up murder you.

"Anyway Toshi this is my ex husband Hizashi, Izukus father, he left about 12 years ago with no contact or information."

"Oh come now darling those divorce papers weren't serious. I understand you're mad but I'm back and I promise nothing will keep me away this time."

The utter nerve of this guy he really wants to die today! He's lucky he stopped wearing ties years ago or else Inko would've been choked him to death!

"Tea. I'm going to go make some tea I'll be back soon." She said with a strained smile resisting the urge to rip out Hizashi's teeth.

After she left to the kitchen the atmosphere got even darker the two mortal enemies now left alone.

"So it wasn't enough that you destroyed my face and took my son as your successor, you just had to go and seduce my wife too!"

"Your wife! Did you not just hear her she divorced you?!"

"Yeah all because of you and your meddling if you hadn't destroyed my face putting me in comatose I would've been there for her and Izuku!"

All Might paused for a second realization hitting him like cold bucket of water. Before he got his composer back not wanting the enemy to get the upper hand.

"If you hadn't have been quirk smuggling and stealing classified documents I wouldn't have had to!"

"Oh so it's all entirely my fault?!" Hizashi scoffed "I bet she doesn't even know what you did to me does she?"

Toshinori stayed silent it was true she may have known who he was but she didn't know about his hand in her ex husband's absence.

He had no idea how lucky he was she didn't know or there would be two dead men walking instead of one.

"I take your silence as a yes then?" Hizashi was a little smug now.

"Not like you've told her who you really are." Hizashi frowned at this causing Toshinori to smile "I see I'm right as well."

Well he was only half right he never out right told Inko she figured it out on her own. But All Might didn't need to know that, after all no use making Inko even more upset then she already was.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Inko was trying to figure out how to shoot her ex from the kitchen without Toshinori noticing.

While she knew it was impossible without blowing her secret a woman could dream.

As the tea finally came to a boil she noted the distinct sound of her sons bedroom window opening and closing. Knowing her son was back from his nightly vigilantism only done on weekend nights per their agreement. She briefly considered pouring rat poison in Hizashi's serving but decided against it.

Not that the good for nothing scumbag didn't deserve it. But just scaring him would do for now unless Izuku didn't want him in his life. After all he was Izuku's father and Izuku deserved to choose whether he wanted him in his life or not.

Bringing back a tray with the tea she sat the cups down with an eerie look on her face. "Here you go Hizashi I made yours just how you like it!~" She said sweetly.

Yeah Hizashi isn't drinking that, no way she definitely must have done something to it. He hasn't survived the past 200 years to die like that, thankfully his lovely queen isn't good at holding her emotions in.

"Thankyou darling you're too kind." He said taking a cup but not drinking from it.

Toshinori on the other hand called her buff he knew she wouldn't do anything. As he drunk his own cup he remarked on how good it was, well atleast he didn't have to worry about no real or imaginary poison.

Toshinori really didn't know what to do he was having a mental crisis. Should he tell Inko and young Midoriya the truth about All for one or not say anything? The boy would be devastated and would he really want to fight his own father when the time came? He would never forgive himself if it caused Izuku mental pain.

But if he turned Hizashi in to the hero commission they wouldn't know it was him. But he'd still have to deal with them being distraught and possibly hating him for not telling them sooner. Plus everything might become public and there's no telling how many enemies All for one has made that would be out for blood.

This was bad, both his morals and heart clashed at the thought of hurting Izuku and Inko they both quickly became the family he never got to have.

Izuku even started calling him dad for crying out loud! What would he call him if he found out his idol and mentor was the one who separated him from his biological father?!

"We need to settle this once and for all." Inko finally said still annoyed and just wanting Hizashi out.

"Yes you're right we should Inko darling. I won't make this hard, I promise I only want to see my son. Perhaps he can sleepover at my place on the weekends?"

Toshinori paled at that, if he got young Midoriya alone there's no telling what that monster would do to the boy. He could kidnap him, take one for all, and lock him away forever. Toshinori couldn't let that happen deciding he'd rather tell both Inko and Izuku who 'Hizashi' really was.

"Yeah no I don't think so you can have supervised visits and you can take him somewhere if I'm available to go with."

Yeah Inko wasn't buying what her ex was selling she knew he'd have Izuku quirkless and vaulted if she left them alone.

Not to mention that would force her to try rescuing him leading to her being vaulted as well.

But together they could defeat him after all he couldn't fight them both at once.

Hizashi was about to open his mouth when all of a sudden a voice called from the hall.

"Dad?"

"Yes son?" Both men said in unison before looking at eachother with a glare.

Izuku just stood there frozen in shock as his step dad and biological father glared at eachother. He couldn't believe his eyes, even though he heard his father's voice he just thought his mom finally got him on the phone. But this is unreal he never thought in his wildest dreams his father would be in front of him again.

He gripped his plan shirt that had "shirt" written on it in big white letters. His heart felt like it would beat out of his chest at any moment, a million questions going through his mind.

He was so deep in thought he didn't hear his mom get up from the couch and approach him till he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie are you okay?" His mom asked him worried.

The two men stopped glaring at eachother now focused on Izuku concerned for him.

Tears came to the greenettes eyes as his voice shook with joy. "Dad!"

Hizashi was then tackled by the boy, slight bits of green lighting appearing on him showing his small use of one for all. Despite Izukus small stature compared to his father's hulking one, Hizashi nearly doubled over feeling like he was punched.

His son was a strong boy, he lamented the years lost since his little green bean was no longer little.

Wrapping his arms around his son Japan's evilest villain patted Izukus head. Causing the ex-symbol of peace to go into a coughing fit, a waterfall of blood pouring from his mouth.

"Dad are you okay?!"

Pushing away from Hizashi Izuku went to check on Toshinori as Inko offered up a handkerchief. Taking it in gratitude Toshinori thanked his wife before reassuring Izuku he was okay. "Thankyou son I'm alright no need to worry." Giving his signature grin he ignored his enemies death glare.

All for One the demon emperor would never admit he's jealous of anyone especially his arch-nemesis. But seeing his son coddle that blonde theif made his blood boil.

"Well this will be a new experience I never thought you'd call someone else dad..." Hizashi said with a strained smile his mouth lighting up with fire for a second.

He could always burn the blonde homewreaker with his fire breath good thing that was the quirk he with.

"Oh I guess it will get really confusing calling you both dad. But what other alternative names for you both? Or I could just call one dad and the other something else...maybe papa could work?" Izuku muttered suddenly, scratching the back of his head.

Both men looked at eachother realizing this could be the deciding factor. They knew that whoever got papa would win, after all it was the cuter of the two choices.

"Alright it's decided then!" Izuku claped his hands together a wide grin growing on his face. Both men sitting in anticipation at the boys verdict. The two looking like they were on a high stakes game show as sweat trickled down their foreheads.

"I'll call you dad" Izuku pointed at Hizashi "and I'll call you papa!" He then pointed to Toshinori.

Toshinori felt like he could do a cheer, his crops were watered, his stomach was back, his scares gone, everything in the universe was right.

That was until he looked over at All for One who he was sure would definitely kill him now if he wasn't going to before. His aura now darker than before as Toshinori's own aura glowed bright with happiness knowing he was the superior father figure in Izukus life.

Meanwhile Izuku ever oblivious to his father's fued just gave his mom his best smile feeling happier to have them in his life. After all they were his family and he wouldn't change that for nothing in the world.

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

Sometime later

Yoichi: Leave brother we will not leave this host!

AFO: Oh I don't want your quirk little brother, no not anymore.

Yoichi: Then why are you here what else could you possibly want?!

AFO: WHAT I WANT IS FOR YOU TO MAKE YOUR GOLDEN BOY LEAVE MY WIFE AND SON ALONE! HE'S RUINING EVERYTHING!

Yoichi: I see so that's what this is about...yeah no this is what you get. Consider this karma goodbye brother.

AFO: OH NO DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME TELL ALL MI-

Yoichi: *disconnects AFO from Izukus conscious*

AFO: *Sitting in Izukus room while his son sleeps* I can't believe it he hung up on me.

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

AFO: I'll have you know I did alot of good things I'm not a good for nothing scumbag!

Inko: Oh really name one good deed you've done since we got married.

AFO:............Well umm..... Oh! I had Izuku our son!

Inko: Hehe yeah no I had Izuku you just stood there and cried in the corner for 11 hours.

AFO: WELL YOU TRY BEING SUPPORTIVE WHEN YOUR WIFE CALLS YOU A- Wait no actually I adopted a stray child off the streets! That definitely counts as one good deed!

Inko: WHAT!?

AFO: *realizing how bad he messed up* You what happened was....

#bnha dad for one #dad for one #inko midoriya #inko midoriya is a black widow #vigilante deku #dad might #inko midoriya just being a good mom #hizashi midoriya is all for one #battle of the dads

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moonflowerlesbians · 3 years ago

Note

Jamie is trying to ignore the new au pair. She doesn't need to fall for this beautiful and straight girl. But then Flora asks her to clean the pool after months without using it because "it's a perfectly hot and beautiful day and we need to have a pool party. And you're invited too".

Dani. The pool. Bikini. Jamie doesn't know how to react to this, so she decides to keep ignoring her. But she can bet Dani is looking at her... A bit too much.

took me a second but I offer you almost 3000 words as penance. also I sort of extended it because it's apparently impossible for me to write pure fluff.

AO3 link in reblog if that's your preference :)

~~~

“Ah, yeah, it’ll be perfectly splendid,” Jamie grumbles between pants, yanking the tie of the pool cover over one shoulder with a huff. “Sure, perfectly splendid to swim in. Have t’ get it clean first. Can’t just jump in.”

At half eight in the evening, she’d been trying to beat the bizarre heatwave that had befallen the English countryside, but she’s failing rather spectacularly if the moisture gathering at her hairline is any indication. She swipes an arm across her forehead and listens to the faint chatter from the open sitting-room window, where the other grown members of the household bask in the glorious company of electric fans. Meanwhile, Jamie swelters away the evening spraying down pool filters and vacuuming leaves from the tile floor because someone had the bright idea to remind an eight-year-old that she has access to a pool.

“Oh, please, Jamie, please!” Flora had pleaded, practically bouncing out of her seat at the dinner table and coming terrifyingly close to tipping several drinks onto Hannah’s pristine tablecloth. “It’s dreadfully hot and a beautiful day, and we simply must have a pool party.” She had gasped so abruptly that Dani nearly dropped her fork, Jamie noted with a subtle grin. “We’ll all have a pool party! And Owen can make sandwiches, and Mrs. Grose can bring picnic blankets, and you must come, too, Jamie, won’t you please?”

Then Jamie had made the poor decision to lock eyes with Dani from across the table. The desperation plainly written across her face had been enough to convince Jamie to concede with a faux exhale of annoyance.

Thus, the weary gaze of a haggard au pair run ragged by herding two children indoors is the reason Jamie finds herself skimming the pool’s surface for any leaves and algae that managed to weasel beneath the cover when she should be driving home.

“Sorry,” a voice comes from behind her, “I’m the one who planted the idea in her head.”

Jamie turns to find Dani, a glass in either hand, peering at her with the expression of a woman who is half-tempted to change places and take up the skimmer herself simply to have a moment to herself.

“S’alright, needed to be done anyway. Won’t be ready until at least tomorrow,” Jamie sighs, accepting the proffered glass with a grateful nod. “Kids tired of being cooped up?”

Dani puffs out a laugh that says, you don’t know the half of it. “You’d think they don’t have a house the size of my old school to explore.”

“Bet they haven’t even found half the secret passages,” remarks Jamie over the smooth rim of her glass. Dani sips from hers, and Jamie endeavors to ignore the bob of her throat as she swallows.

“The what?” The wrinkles that appear on Dani’s forehead are surprisingly charming. Too charming. Jamie shoos the thought away before it can land.

“C’mon, Poppins. House this size? This old? There at least have to be servants’ tunnels.”

“Have… have you found any?”

Jamie hums noncommittally, noting the way Dani shifts her weight on her heels as if she cannot bear the thought of standing still. “Did you come out here just for this?”

“Partly, yes, but,” she lowers her voice, “I really just needed to get away from the kids for a few minutes. Owen’s got them playing a board game, thank God, and after that, I can put them to bed. I adore them, but sometimes…” she shrugs.

“We all need space,” Jamie finishes, a bit more brusque than she intended, which she chalks up to the evening hour and the heat, and Dani takes a step back. Shit. “Meant to say,” Jamie salvages with a wince, “it’s nice to be alone sometimes.” She grimaces, doing her best to focus on the cool glass in her hand rather than the heat in her face and the flutter low in her belly.

“I know what you meant,” Dani says softly. Then, after a moment’s pause spent glancing from Jamie to the pool and back again, “You need any help out here?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. “Lookin’ for excuses to avoid work, are we?”

“No, no, I, um… No?”

“Relax, Dani,” Jamie chuckles, setting her empty water cup down in the grass. Dani visibly settles. “If you’d like to drag the garden hose over, we’ll need to rinse the filters.”

“Got it,” Dani says seriously, and she practically marches to the nearest hose rack as Jamie watches with a quirk of the lips. The au pair completes tasks as if the world will fall apart if they remain incomplete a moment longer. It’s a quality Jamie admires in her, the passion and fervor with which she undertakes the seemingly mundane tasks in her life. Jamie also finds herself mildly amused by the way Dani stalks across the property like she might break into a run at any moment, always on high alert. Always tense.

Might be nice to see her take a full breath for the first time in her life.

Might be nice to see her at ease.

Might be nice to see her relax.

Very nice, indeed, it turns out.

Almost too nice, two days later, the way Dani lounges on a patio chair she’d dragged to the poolside, with a book in her hand and one leg propped on the seat.

Too nice, the way her hair looks beneath a sun hat, casting dappled shadows over the tip of a tongue poking out between pursed lips as she turns a page.

Too nice, the way she lowers her sunglasses over her nose to keep an eye on the children splashing and shrieking in the water.

Too nice, in fact, far too nice for Jamie, who tries and repeatedly fails to keep her gaze off pale, freckled skin and eyes as blue and clear as the water. She can’t sit still. Can’t seem to cease the bouncing of a leg or the rote twirling of hair between twitching fingers. Can’t seem to stop flitting from superfluous task to superfluous task long enough to catch her breath, stolen against her will each and every time she catches a flash of exposed skin dancing in the midday sun.

But the worst part, by far, is when she looks at Dani… Dani is looking back. Four times now, Jamie has cast a fleeting glance at the lazing au pair only to find her peering at Jamie with equal intensity.

Odd, Jamie thinks, fiddling with the stem of a bush a few meters away from the pool, to catch Dani staring so often. But coincidences have been stranger, she decides, chalking it up to amicable concern. She can’t allow herself to dwell on the occurrence. Too many possibilities that open doors to too much trouble. Far more trouble than Dani is worth.

But what if… a niggling voice at the back of her head chides.

No, Jamie reminds herself with a mental kick and an outward shake of her head. She had a fiancé.

Hannah sits with her trousers rolled to her knees, ever one for modesty, with her legs dangling in the shallow end of the pool, while Owen and the kids do everything short of pulling the poor housekeeper in the water to utterly drench her. Hannah, to her credit, is taking their antics in stride, no doubt due to the mustachioed mastermind currently huddled with two overeager children.

The promise to Flora had been a pool party, and, never one to give up on her goals once they were set in her mind, the girl had hounded the adults with unrelenting chipperness until, one by one, they had been worn down. Which is surely the only reason Jamie hovers at the edge of the pool deck in an oversized t-shirt tied at the waist and old running shorts--the only sort of swimsuit she could throw together on short notice.

“Thought I might get in. Care to join me?”

Slender legs enter Jamie’s field of vision, then Dani is only paces away, a hand resting on one hip. She’s removed her hat, left to save her empty seat, and her sunglasses rest atop her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face and onto her shoulders. Her cornflower-blue swimsuit hugs her figure, and Jamie forces her eyes up, her throat terribly dry. She swallows thickly.

“May as well.”

Dani leads the way to the water’s edge, dipping one painted toenail into the water and producing a satisfied noise. She turns to Jamie standing a few feet behind and sweeps the sunglasses from her head, shaking her hair out. “Hold these for me?”

Wordlessly, Jamie delicately grasps one temple of the white plastic frame as Dani steps forward, her arms over her head, hands meeting in a V-shape. The hidden muscles in her back ripple, and she executes an elegant plunge into the pool, emerging with a gasp and a whoop of elated laughter. A smattering of applause rises from the opposite end of the pool, the others having apparently stopped their scheming long enough to watch Dani’s flawless--at least in Jamie’s opinion--swan dive.

“Oh, Miss Clayton, that was splendid!” Flora’s shrill voice chirps.

Hannah remarks, clearly impressed, “I had no idea we had a professional in our midst."

“I’d hardly say professional,” Dani says with a modest roll of her eyes. The water swirls where she treads. She pushes water-darkened hair from her eyes. Then, to Jamie, she explains, “I was on the community pool swim and dive team for a few summers before I could get a job.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jamie replies. She passes the sunglasses to Dani’s outstretched hand and takes a seat on the sun-warm grey concrete at the edge of the pool. Dani swims up and places crossed arms beside Jamie on the deck, resting her chin on the intersection and looking up at Jamie. Lean legs kick out behind her into crystalline depths, and golden sunlight refracts in the water, bathing beneath the surface in an ethereal glow.

“You’re not getting in?” Dani asks.

“Not the biggest fan of water, if I’m honest,” Jamie confesses nonchalantly, as if by some miracle this admission will end the conversation.

No, Dani’s desire to learn, to understand, is far too intense for that. It’s another quality of hers Jamie admires, even if it feels as though she’s laying herself bare by sharing the tiniest details under her scrutiny.

“I knew plenty of kids afraid of the water back in the day,” Dani says easily, tracing lines in the small puddle that has formed from the droplets on her skin, “it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“‘S not that. I just,” Jamie searches, somewhat defensively, struggling to convey the message without saying the words that reveal a weakness she is loath to expose. Her silence evidently speaks volumes.

“Jamie,” Dani says quietly, a furrow forming between her brows, “can you swim?”

Damn those observant eyes, that sharp mind.

Jamie looks away, shrinks just a little, scoffs with false bravado, “‘Course I can swim.” Then, “Can paddle… float….” Heat rises in her already flushed cheeks, and she picks at the skin surrounding the cuticle on her thumb.

“It’s… You know it’s okay if you can’t, right?” And Dani’s voice is soft, so soft, a murmur really, a whisper that makes Jamie’s heart ache. It keeps the sound from carrying across the pool as it does hold Jamie in her destitution.

She thinks back to a childhood of coal dust and dirty sofa beds and scavenging for food. Thinks of summers spent doing odd jobs to pay the rent, of sleeping on the porch because it was cooler out there than in the house. Thinks of covering herself with as much clothing as she could despite the rising temperatures to fend off roving eyes, to appear a larger threat than a scrawny eleven-year-old girl actually was. Thinks of boiling pots and scalding showers spent scrubbing her skin clean, as though maybe if she rubbed hard enough, the memories would wash away with the grime. Circle the drain once, twice, and disappear forever.

“Never really learned, I s’pose,” Jamie forces a weak laugh. “Didn’t have anyone really keen on teachin’ me.”

Dani is quiet for a moment. “I could.”

“Could what? Teach me? ‘S not your problem to worry about, Poppins.” The thought nearly sends her mind into overdrive. Nescience of an essential life skill is ignominious enough, but to have Dani bear witness to the reality is unthinkable.

“Well, sure it is,” Dani shakes her head, affronted at the mere notion. “What would we do if you fell in and drowned? Someone needs to keep Owen in line.”

Jamie notes the ‘we’ in her statement. We need you. Not I. Distinctly not I, Jamie repeats to herself. She fidgets with the knot in her t-shirt.

“Already told you I can paddle. I’d be fine.”

“Still.” Dani is staring up at her with a pointed look. She has the glint in her eye that Jamie recognizes from the instances Dani deems it necessary to hold her ground with Miles or persuade Flora to clean up her dolls at the end of a long day. She will not give in.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Jamie raises an eyebrow, approaching Dani’s determination as one might a chest of buried treasure, hesitant, disbelieving, a bit curious.

Dani shakes her head again, the ghost of a smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

A beat, during which Jamie’s thoughts wage war amongst themselves. One team screams at her to take the opportunity to spend time with the woman that another batch reminds her is not interested in the least. Another group acknowledges the practical benefits of developing a skill beyond aimless paddling, while another still acknowledges the persistent flutter in her stomach.

At last, “Reckon you’ll be putting that fancy teaching degree to use again,” Jamie acquiesces with a sigh. “Doubt this is what you signed up for, though.”

“I know exactly what I signed up for.” There’s a mischievous lilt to Dani’s words that sends a bolt of feverish perplexion through her. Dani pulls back from the side of the pool and holds out her hands. “We can get started right now.”

Jamie must look as if she’d rather snip off a finger with her garden shears than get in the water because Dani laughs.

“Or not,” she says with a sincere smile, and she ducks back under the water before popping up at Jamie’s feet, wiping the water from her eyes.

“I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of the kids,” Jamie says with a chuckle. “Lord knows I’ve never done that before, and I don’t intend on starting now.” It’s a half-truth. The real issue stems from the moderately disconcerting realization that breathing on land is hard enough with Dani so close, and Jamie really isn’t keen on finding out what will happen if she tries to slip underwater.

A brief flash of her sputtering to the surface, limbs flailing in all directions, crosses her mind, and she shakes it away.

A whooping from the opposite end of the pool catches her attention, and she looks up.

It seems whatever Owen and the children plotted had worked. Hannah is, much to her presumed consternation, sopping wet from head to toe, though she merely wrings out her blouse and kicks a lighthearted splash back at the children, who, having completed their mission, slink out of the pool and wrap themselves in paisley towels.

“Finished already?” Dani calls, and Flora nods from the deck, a yawn splitting her face despite the clock only reading three in the afternoon. “I’ll be right there!” She turns back to Jamie, says softly, “Another time?”

Jamie nods. “Another time.”

Then, Dani is off, gathering her things and herding the children back across the stretch of grass and into the house, leaving Jamie to watch in delirious bewilderment as her heart pounds far faster than it ought to, given the situation. And yet, Jamie cannot fault it, nor can she calm her racing pulse, though she tries.

Dani is the cause, she knows. Dani is always the cause, and no amount of fervent internal reminders seem to dull her effect. No incalculable quantity of mutterings about ex-fiancés will stop Jamie’s breath from catching when Dani settles down for dinner. No collection of whispered slim chanceswill convince a weak heart to cease its clamant pattering at the sight of a column of silky skin. No platitudes can dissuade Jamie’s longing soul from going against her better judgment, from going against her learned experiences that say this will only lead to heartbreak.

Love is sink or swim, she has learned, and Jamie has been treading water, head just barely above the surface, for far, far too long. Dani has offered to hold her hand, quite literally, to guide her through the risk, if only Jamie will make a move to reach out. Perhaps… Perhaps, Dani can guide her to shore to rest among sand beaches and good company. Perhaps, Dani will not let go along the way.

Another time, then.

Another time, yes. But soon. Soon, because Jamie is rapidly growing weary of condemning her wayward heart to fruitless excitement, of shutting a thing down before it can even begin, like cutting down a sapling before it emerges from a seed.

It’s sink or swim, and, at last, Jamie chooses to swim.

#no beta we die like dani #the ending is questionable because fuck it why not #vibes only #i did spend too long looking up appropriate chemical balances for pools in England in the late 80s #and then scrapped it altogether so #also dont imagine jamie swimming to the middle of the lake to find danis body knowing dani taught her in the first place #also I love not being able to come up with titles for shit #fic #ficlet #my writing #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani clayton #jamie #jamie taylor #jamie x dani #dani x jamie #damie fanfic #thobm

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 4 years ago

Text

Last Christmas (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: mentions of past bad relationships, oral (f receiving), fairly vanilla sex

(A/N): I am aware this is a common title 🙄 I’m very insecure about my angst writing skills and my golly gosh I was not happy with this at first. So I edited it several times and now it’s... acceptable. Hope y’all enjoy! (Inspired by me listening the Last Christmas by Wham! 20,000 times)

“Crowded room, friends with tired eyes/

I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice”

-Last Christmas by Wham!

Holiday parties can be one of two things. They could either be the most exciting, eventful get together of the year, filled with laughter and happenings that will be talked about all the way until the next party. Or they can be a dreadfully stressful evening of avoiding that One Person and stuffing your face full of cookies and eggnog— trying to figure out when’s an appropriate time to leave without being rude because you only really came to show your face for the person that invited you. Last year’s party was the happier option for Jimin, one he’ll never forget; but unfortunately, this year has become the latter situation where his choices from the previous party have come to bite him in the ass.

He stands somewhere in the corner, out of sight and avoiding the crowd as everyone mingles merrily over the festive music playing in the background. All night has been like this, terribly boring as he watches his friends joke around and have fun. A few times he’s gone over to the group when he felt it was safe to do so, trying to appear as normal and relaxed as possible as Seokjin scolded him for being a wallflower. He didn’t even want to come, he reminds them, he would have been happy to stay home and mope all night instead of being subjected to this torture.

‘But you have to come, this party is tradition!” Hoseok whined when Jimin first told them this 2 weeks ago. The others had similar complaints.

‘Yeah, it’ll ruin the whole night if you don’t show.’ Jungkook’s pout was pretty convincing, part of the reason why Jimin caved. When he finally agreed, Taehyung had thrown an arm over his shoulders with that carefree grin of his.

‘Don’t let her keep you from having fun! Show up and show off how good of a time you’re having. She doesn’t control your life and you need to start acting like it.’

But Taehyung was completely wrong about that because you had an unimaginable amount of control over him even after so much time. His eyes were wide and paranoid from the moment he walked through the doors, hoping that you wouldn’t see him or try to approach— hoping that he wouldn’t see you and fall apart. And even after initially locating you on the other side of the room chatting to someone else, Jimin couldn’t freely move about the room without keeping his eyes on you to maintain a safe distance. He wouldn’t allow himself to become too distracted in fear of losing sight of you and having an awkward encounter, so he barely spoke to his friends and kept a solo cup of punch as his only companion. Even if he hadn’t come, if he had stayed in his home like he wanted, you would probably still have power over him. He’d probably catch himself wondering if you decided to show up or if you were just as nervous to see him as he was. Would likely daydream about what creative outfit you’d chosen to dress yourself in because he’s been told you usually go all out for parties like these. Maybe he’d scroll through the messages he still hasn’t deleted from his phone, remembering, regretting, reliving both the good and the bad of everything that happened between you two in the course of the past year. Thinking about the events that led him to this, all starting at last year’s party.

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

One Year Ago

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

“Who is she?” Jimin stares at you over the lip of his cup, sipping slowly on his drink. Seokjin glances at where his friend is looking, lounging drunkenly on the sofa cushions and loudly singing the wrong words to the Christmas music blasting through the speakers.

“Why? You have a crush on her or something?” He smirks, chuckling at the scandalized expression that Jimin turns to him with.

“A crush? I’m not in the 5th grade, hyung,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m just asking because I’ve never seen her around before...” Jimin finishes quietly, mumbling into his cup as he takes another sip. But before he can swallow fully, Jin is calling you over with a wave of his hand.

You turn your head at the sound of his voice and Jimin swears his heart stops beating in his chest as a bright smile spreads on your lips at the sight of your friend. You walk over with confidence and he has no choice but to take in your body, curves and lines caressed by the tightest onesie he’s ever seen. You’ve come to the party dressed as Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer, your deer onesie zipped low enough for the tops of your cleavage to be revealed and your makeup colored flawlessly to match, freckles spotted along your cheeks and red painted at the tip of your nose. It shouldn’t be sexy, but you could probably make a trash bag look like lingerie with your looks. Jimin shifts in his seat when you come to stand in front of the two men, popping your hip as you look down at them.

“Yes, Seokjin?” You only spare a glance at Jimin before your eyes return to Jin, but his linger on you shamelessly.

“There’s someone who wants to meet you,” He sits up into a proper sitting position, pointing to the man beside him. “(Y/n), this is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is (Y/n). You’re welcome.” Abruptly, he stands and walks away, heading over to bother Jungkook in another part of the large room.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.” You extend your hand toward him and he fumbles with his cup between his hands at the gesture, eventually composing himself to stand and give you a proper handshake. Since he was seated on the couch and you had come to stand directly in front of him, you now stand a bit too close to each other, his body trapped between yours and the couch. But you don’t retreat, not even moving back a step as you inspect him from head to toe.

The two of you spent more than 2 whole hours talking, relentlessly flirting with each other as you discovered that you shared many things in common. You laughed at his jokes and gave him your full attention the entire night, your hand always finding it’s way onto his arm or knee as you pressed closer to him on the couch cushions as the night went on. It was obvious that you were very attracted to him, but Jimin didn’t want to be too forward and make you uncomfortable so he kept his hands to himself until you finally cracked and pulled his hand onto your upper thigh.

Looking into your eyes, he could clearly see the lust swirling in your irises, so it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled him upstairs into a bathroom, locking the door behind you and kissing him up against it. Nor was it surprising when you allowed him to lift you onto the countertop of the sink and bury his face between your thighs, tasting you until you had to clap a hand over your mouth to suppress your moans. What did surprise Jimin, however, was how amazing it felt to be inside you, his knees feeling weak as he pounded you into the hard surface and bit back the needy groans bubbling in his throat. You almost killed him when you dropped to your knees and took his tip into your mouth, sucking and swallowing every drop of his release as he gasped in elation. It took him several minutes to collect himself after the ordeal, but you sat on the counter and talked to him as you both calmed down and quickly agreed that this should become a regular thing.

It was about 5 months in that Jimin realized that he had serious feelings for you. The realization came when he couldn’t stop thinking about you— even in a non-sexual context— and started thinking about what it would be like if you were his. And when he finally gathered the courage to ask you out on a date, his heart nearly exploded when you said ‘yes’.

Yet his joy was short lived because his phone rang on the day of your date and you explained to him that you had been “thinking about some things” after a conversation with Jin. You had been talking about the newest episode of a tv show with him when he mentioned how awkward it would be if 2 of his friends ever started dating. He said he would hate to be a middle man between them, especially in an argument or breakup, and how hanging out with them would never be the same, how it would be weird to spend time with them separately but that he would be a third wheel if they were together. Of course, Jin didn’t know that you and Jimin were sleeping together, even if he was the one who introduced you, but his comment got you thinking and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go out with him anymore. You told him that you needed time to think about it more deeply, but you are a logical person who never makes decisions without analyzing every outcome, so Jimin knew that it would be a long time before he got an answer from you. In the meantime, you suggested, you could continue to be friends because you had grown so used to his company, but things were awkward, and eventually communication dropped between you and you fell out of touch for the rest of the year.

A few times Jimin had wanted to text you. Ask if you still thought about him or if you ever intended to give him an answer. Maybe just check to see if you were doing well since he does still care about you. He still thinks about you almost everyday. Still wets his pillow with tears on hard nights. But his pride keeps him from reaching out, always afraid of your rejection.

*** *** ***

A sharp tap on the shoulder startles Jimin out of his thoughts and he almost drops the plate of cookies in his hands. Turning, his face pales as he is met with your inquisitive stare, beautiful face betraying little emotion. Before he can stop himself his eyes are scanning down your body, the ugly Christmas sweater dress you’ve elected to wear looking so cute on you, and he’s certain you’re the only person who could pull that off.

“Are you avoiding me? I haven’t seen you all night.” Blunt as ever, you stare directly into his soul as he squirms, looking down at the snack table in front of him and pretending to contemplate which goodies to pick up.

“No, I’ve been around.” He answers coyly.

“Not around your friends.” Your eyes shift behind him to the cackling group of men standing several feet away. This simple statement makes his heart jump. Had you been looking for him? Were you actually eager to see him tonight despite everything that’s happened? He tries to squash the tiny bud of hope in his chest, clearing his throat when you continue to stare at him.

“Like I said, I’ve been around. I’m not avoiding you.” This comes out quietly, he’s never been good at lying. But you make a sound of agreement and nod, not pressing him about it further. He watches from the corner of his eye as you turn your attention to the snack table now, looking as though you were going to pick something up, but when you realize that neither of you are moving and waiting for the other, you turn your head to him again.

“Do you- can we talk?” You ask abruptly and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He doesn’t know how to respond to this. Would it really be a good idea for him to talk to you? He’s tried so hard over these past months to extinguish the flame he felt for you, to lock away those feelings so he doesn’t get hurt anymore than he already has, but looking at you now— standing so close to him that he can smell the scent of your holiday themed body spray— has his heart working double time. One look into your eyes and he’s ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. He’s not sure how he’ll react if you actually got him alone.

Even still, he agrees.

Of course it’s after several seconds of silence and wide-eyed staring, but the smile you give eases his awkwardness once he finally gets the words out. It’s with lead limbs that he follows you through the crowd, weaving through friends and acquaintances until the noise of the room becomes muffled and you are the only person he can see. This is different, though. Flashes of last year keep coming back to him, the parallels making his head spin, but the air is different. Instead of sexual tension between you two it’s just regular tension. The air is tight in his lungs, but this time it’s not from excitement— it’s nervousness. The hallway you guide him to is private and out of sight, but this time you’re alone for an entirely different reason. He can sense the tension in your body even through the zip-tight facade you have on display.

When you come to a stop and face him, both of you are biting your lips, and it looks as if you’re trying to find the best way to put your words. You both stand with your backs to the opposite walls of the hall, the distance between you feeling necessary in order to think properly.

“How have you been?” You start quietly, lips pressed tightly together as though forcing yourself not to say the wrong things. “I’ve wanted to call you, text you, do anything to show that I still acknowledge your existence on this planet- but I’m a coward so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So how are you?”

Again, Jimin finds himself not knowing how to answer. He could say he’s fine, but what good would that do in this situation? Taking a deep breath, he speaks.

“Honestly, it’s been hard, (Y/n). I know we never dated, I’m just the idiot that caught feelings in a strictly sexual arrangement, but it still hurts. You left me hanging.”

“You’re not an idiot.” You say quietly and he gives you a blank look before returning his gaze to the floor.

“... How have you been?” The words sound forced even on his own ears, but he can’t help but ask. He relates so deeply to what you said about not having the guts to reach out first. So many times he’s pulled up your contact, typed something out that resembles accepting the apology you never gave, but then he’d remind himself that if you wanted to talk to him you would, but you haven’t so you don’t.

“Miserable. I keep thinking about how it was when we were ‘together’ and how stupidly I acted. We were good together. I opened up to you more than I have to 99% of the people I know, and you did the same to me. I loved being with you— it wasn’t just about the sex— and I knew you felt the same way, but I froze up at the possibility of being your girlfriend. So I kept replaying everything that happened between us from the first day to the last, trying to make sense of it all and it was exhausting. A year feels like so long, but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.”

You were right about that. Standing in front of you now, it seems like he just saw you yesterday. He’s reminded of the last time he saw you in person, your head on his lap as he asked you out to dinner, beaming up at him as you spoke the magic words to him. “I did feel the same way. Truthfully, I liked you after our first night together and things just got better and better from there. I had so much hope. You seemed so happy with me, which made it hurt so much worse when you turned me down.” His eyes never leave the ground as he speaks.

He doesn’t see how your eyebrows crease. “I was happy! I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time when I was with you, but-“ You trail off with a shake of your head, biting your lip when you can’t think of the right words. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I hurt you. It really is all my fault.”

“But what? Would dating me really make that much of a difference?” You were basically a couple already, he doesn’t see what the problem could have been. He refuses to believe that you simply didn’t like him enough. Yet, a cold chill climbs up his limbs at the thought.

“No.” His eyes connect with yours and it’s your turn to look away.

“Then why did-“ He doesn’t even need to finish his question before you’re shaking your head.

“Because I was scared. Like I said, I’m a coward.” Jimin hates when you put yourself down like that. Hates to see you look so guilty even though he knows you probably should.

There’s a long pause.

“Then were you ever going to give me an answer?” Quietly, the words slip past his lips before he can even think about them. They float over to you and dance around your head as if taunting you. If Jin was truly the obstacle of your relationship, you both could have just asked him. No, Jimin isn’t asking you if you were willing to risk Jin’s comfort to be with him. He was asking you if you shared his feelings. If you wanted to be with him. And the answer isn’t as straightforward as he would have liked.

“I typed out an answer to you so many times, but I couldn’t send it. I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to you, but the more I looked at my words the more uncertain I got and eventually I felt like you wouldn’t want to hear from me at all. I really am sorry, Jimin.”

Finding his eyes again, you see Jimin stiffen. He looks tired almost, as if exhausted by his own worries and thoughts, and you sag when you notice this.

“What would you have said?” His words come louder than his previous ones, though they seem much more fragile. He blinks at you, watching your chest heave for breath at the question. Dread fills his stomach like a heavy stone in his gut.

“I like you a lot, Jimin, I do. But-“

Without a second thought, he spins on his heel and walks back toward the party, leaving you stunned with a gaping mouth. His heart twists painfully as he paces away from you, weaving his way through the crowd and toward the door. It’s one thing to worry and think the worst, but Jimin has been clinging onto that one shred of hope, and hearing you confirm his fears out loud would be the worst heartbreak. Your rejection would sicken him and he had no intention of crying in front of you or at a holiday party filled with his friends, so he made the split decision to leave.

He should have never come. He would’ve happily stayed in blissful ignorance for another year instead of having to experience this. This pain is the worst.

He can tell you’ve started to follow behind him but he doesn’t care. Swooping past the pile of coats on one of the couches and picking his from the top, slinging it across his body as he pushes open the door. The cold winter air bites at his nose as he pushes on toward his car, sniffling from both the weather and the emotions stuck in his throat. Soon, he hears your footsteps behind him, heeled boots clicking on the frozen pavement as you scurry after him. He doesn’t even look back.

“Jimin, wait-“ How childish of him to run off like this, you must be thinking, and he listens to your hurried steps with a frown as he imagines the pout on your lips and distress in your eyes. “I- Ah!”

Your dramatic gasp and the sound of your body hitting the concrete is enough to stop him. And his body reacts on instinct.

Whipping around he sees you wincing on the cold ground, cradling your ankle with one hand, and suddenly he’s rushing back over to you. You move to stand, attempting a tentative step forward, and Jimin reaches you just in time as you collapse again and fall forward into his arms.

“Jimin, that’s not what I meant-“

“Did you hurt your ankle?” He cuts you off, focused solely on the foot you hold limply above the ground.

“I-“ Noticing that he won’t meet your eyes, you relent, cheeks burning. “Y-Yeah.” The sidewalk is cracked and uneven where you stand, your heels likely stepping right into the crack and causing your twisted ankle. He clicks his tongue.

Any logical person might have taken you back into the party where the host, your friend, would surely be able to help. But instead he scoops you up into his arms princess style and continues down the path toward his car. You say nothing, simply looking at his side profile as he walks. Jimin refuses to look at you even with his arms wrapped around your body, feeling a distinct warmth not only from your body pressed to his, but also from your unyielding gaze. It’s almost as if you are studying every inch of his face, awed by the sight as though you missed it. As if you missed him. His face heats uncomfortably but he ignores it, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead until you reach his vehicle.

Opening the back door, he sets you inside, well aware of your momentary surprise when he slides in next to you and shuts the door. Holding out his hand, he waits for you to get the message, and slowly you raise your leg up until your ankle rests in his lap. The silence is tense. The enclosed space is only slightly warmer than the whipping wind and bitter cold outside, but currently neither of you are sure which you would prefer more. He removes your boot with some difficulty but takes care not to hurt you, reaching down to slip off the other and note the difference in size. Your ankle has begun swelling a bit, though the damage is minimal likely because of the cold. Your mouth opens with unspoken words, he can see this from his peripheral, but you end up closing it again without a sound.

The leather of his seats crinkle when you shift and the noise feels far too loud. His car smells of the air freshener he’s placed somewhere, a woody and spicy scent that reminds you of cuddles by a warm fireplace— the smell calming you somewhat as you allow him to continue his examination. As gently as he can, Jimin pokes at your ankle around the swollen area, pressing one finger over a spot that makes you hiss, and finally his eyes snap up to yours.

“What are you doing?” His eyes flicker away from you again at the question.

“I’m checking your ankle, it seems a little swollen-“

“No- what are you doing? Why did you walk away from me? Why did you bring me to your car?”

If he had an answer for you, surely he would give it, but he’s trying to figure all of those things out himself. What was his goal? Did he subconsciously want to talk to you somewhere away from the party, in a place where he was comfortable, that he could control? He thought he didn’t want to hear what you had to say, but here you are, alone with him again.

“I don’t know.” He answers lamely. “Did you walk here? I know you don’t live far— I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“I don’t want a ride home, I want you to listen to me!” At the raise of your voice everything stops. It even seems like the wind outside has paused. You weren’t angry, you were tired of him ignoring you when he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yourself. You bring your voice back down when he drops his hands. “Could you listen to me? Please.”

“... Okay.” Like a child, he sits stiffly with his hands folded and fidgeting, body half turned toward you, but you take that as sign enough to start.

“You asked me what I would have said to you in my message. You didn’t let me finish.” He swallows at your irritated tone, but it softens when you take a deep breath. “I was saying that I really do like you Jimin, but I just didn’t realize how much I liked you until I had already ruined things. I would have said that I’d love to date you, that hearing you ask me out was the happiest moment I’ve had in a long time— but I kept doubting myself. I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint you. That we’ll start dating and just when I’m finally happy you’ll realize I’m not everything you thought I was and leave me. I’ve had some really bad relationships in the past and I felt like they’d come back to haunt me and you’d realize how damaged I am and get fed up because I’m not sensitive enough or too paranoid or too... broken.”

“(Y/n),” Seeing you so insecure like this hurts his heart. His hand returns to your leg. “I already know about your past relationships and trauma. You told me about it all and I still asked you out after I knew. I would never think that way about you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, that’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. That’s why it’s called an irrational fear. Even though I knew this, I still panicked when you asked me out and all of those thoughts came flooding in. And when Jin made the comment about his friends dating... I guess I was looking for an out. You did absolutely nothing wrong, but I pushed you away because I couldn’t handle the thought that you would want me, of all people.” You mumble your last sentence, but he hears you loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I do some pretty stupid things when I’m in love.”

When you’re in love?

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a long while, shocked into silence by your last statement. It’s a lot to take in, he’s just gone from believing you were about to rip his heart out and reject him, to hearing you say that you’re in love with him.

“So... what does this mean for us?” He hears himself ask, not conscious of his mouth moving to produce the words.

“I-If the offer still stands, I’d really like to date you. That is, if I didn’t already screw everything up and you still have feelings for me.” Your eyes looks so innocent when you look at him. You are usually fairly stoic, eyes betraying little emotion except for when you’re extremely happy or flirting— this is one of the few times he’s gotten to see this side of you. Being vulnerable is something you struggle with, it’s rare for you to be in this type of position where someone else holds your fate, your heart, in their hands.

He can’t hold back the small smile that makes its way onto his face, meeting your eyes without any apprehension this time. “You didn’t screw anything up, (Y/n).” He doesn’t say anything more after you return his smile, he simply exits the car and rounds the front to the drivers seat. The air shifts and it’s no longer as suffocatingly tense as it was moments prior, much to your relief.

The ride to his home is quiet, you don’t dare speak or look out the window for the entirety of the trip because you’re so focused on the back of his seat and the glimpse of his face you can catch whenever he shifts. He’s fairly certain you’re trying to figure out what exactly is running through his mind right now— and so is he, honestly— but you won’t ask him yet. He hasn’t really given you a proper response, you can only hope that his comment meant that he holds no ill feelings toward you and would also like the chance to date you, but you hate assuming. Your pride has your questions caught in your throat, though.

You seem a bit startled when he parks in front of his building. He answers your curious gaze with the excuse that he can better take care of your injury here and insists that you stay the night since it’s already so late. Cheeks burning, Jimin tries to ignore the small chuckle you let out when he stammers, his arm wrapping around you to help you out of his car. He takes revenge on you, however, as he lifts you back into his arms like before, not even allowing you to place your feet on the ground as he walks into the apartment complex despite your complaints, smirking slyly when your face colors the same as his at the odd looks you receive from the other passengers of the elevator.

He puts you down only when you reach the couch inside his apartment, setting you gently on the soft cushions and offering to take your coat from your shoulders. He hadn’t even asked if you had all of your belongings from Jin’s house before he impulsively drove you here, something that he apologizes profusely for, though you wave him off and assure him that you only brought your coat and the things you could fit in its pockets with you.

Not knowing what else to say, Jimin stands in front of you for several long seconds as you look up at him with soft eyes. He’s caught now, forgetting everything that he was doing as he looks back at you sitting so prettily on his couch. That look you have in your eyes is the same one that gave him enough courage to ask you out months ago, your irises nearly sparkling even in the dull lighting of his living room. It takes his breath away and he is momentarily stunned, frozen in place with a heart that beats out of his chest. What was he even supposed to be doing? Your coat is in his hands and he fiddles with it, trying to remember where he wanted to put it before you blindsided him with those beautiful eyes. Ah, yes. The coat closet. Blinking, you take note of how he shifts from one foot, then the other, before clearing his throat.

“I’ll be right back.” Jimin turns from you immediately as he feels his cheeks start to color pink. It feels heavy, having all of those wilting and withering emotions come slamming back down on him with just one look. He’s dazed as he hangs both of your coats in his closet, picking up compression bandages and scissors from his first aid kit then swinging past his kitchen to retrieve an ice pack for you.

When he returns he sees you still seated rather uncomfortably on his sofa, body tense and on the very edge of the seat. You were never this awkward in his home before, even during your first time here— granted, you did spend the first few hours naked in his bedroom, eliminating most of the discomfort you’d feel when he decided to give you a tour of the rest of the place afterward. But Jimin somewhat expected that you would settle right in even though things have changed since the last time you were here. Guess not.

“You can get comfortable, you know. You don’t have to act like a stranger.” He tries to laugh but it comes out a bit dry, the pull on his lips looking a bit forced. And it hits him then that he’s the one that’s nervous. While you seem to be trying your hardest to be polite, he’s actually the one that feels pressured. Swallowing hard, he takes a seat next to you and lifts your injured foot onto his lap again, this time feeling hyper aware of where your body touches his. His hands shake the entire time he wraps your ankle and he’s sure you’ve noticed by how intensely you stare as he works. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but he can’t seem to calm himself. Not when you’re so close to him again and especially not now that he knows how you truly feel about him. So, reluctantly, he removes your legs from him once he’s finished and sets up some pillows over the armrest for you to elevate your foot and places the ice pack on your ankle. “So, um, do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

*** *** ***

One thing Jimin has always found endearing about you is how quickly you tend to fall asleep once relaxed enough. The movie is little over halfway through when he sees your head nodding beside him, catching him by surprise when you lean over to rest it on his shoulder. He shifted you to lay against his strong thigh so you can get more comfortable, and now he’s completely forgotten about the movie as he watches you sleep peacefully against him. Staring down at you like this has all of his worries slipping away, your words from earlier finally sinking in and allowing him to finally react. This was all he ever wanted, you to give him a chance and reciprocate his feelings, and now that it’s happening it doesn’t quite feel real. But you are very real. He confirms this by caressing his thumb over your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your forehead that makes your eyes flutter open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers sheepishly, but you simply shake your head.

“No, it’s okay.” You stretch but don’t bother to move away from him. You’re far too tired for awkwardness and would much rather return to normalcy with him.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks gently, glancing at where it remains propped up at the end of the couch.

“Mm, a little sore,” He frowns at that, feeling guilty. “But it’s not that bad! I’m fine, really.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No it isn’t, it’s my fault for not looking where I was going.”

“But you wouldn’t have needed to watch where you were going if I didn’t storm away from you like that.”

You let out a heavy sigh at this. “Just drop it, okay? It’s really not that big of a deal, I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” You turn your head toward the tv to take in what was happening on the screen, allowing the noise of the movie to fill the quiet that falls between you two.

“I won’t do that again.” Jimin states quietly, playing with the hair at the very top of your head. “In the future, I won’t walk away from you until we work things out like adults. You didn’t deserve that tonight.” Something about how he says this makes your heart stutter. You turn back around slowly, lips parted as you look up at him.

“In the future? As in, you want to have a future with me?” Realizing how that sounds, you quickly try to backtrack as you sit upright with a wave of your hands. “I mean in the near future, not like you want a future with me like we’re getting married or something! You know what I meant, right? I wasn’t implying that... y-yeah.“ At the amused look on his face, you stop, closing your mouth before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. You’re never like this around him. You never used to fumble for words or feel the need to explain yourself like you do now, but suddenly the pounding of your heart has you tongue tied and jittery. Your nervousness makes Jimin feel a little bolder.

“Yes, (Y/n). In both the near and far future, I’ll always treat you with respect. You’ve had it hard. I want to be the one to show you that relationships can be good— that you can trust me to respect you as a person and can put your faith in me. So yes, I want there to be a future.” You blink at him and he has to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“...Does this mean you’ll give me a chance and date me?” He nods. “You’re not upset? I left you waiting unanswered for months, I would’ve thought you would at least need some time to... reconsider?”

“What’s there to reconsider? My feelings for you are just as strong as the last time I saw you, (Y/n), that hasn’t changed.” Your eyes drop to where his hand lands on your thigh, making you gulp. “We wasted enough time not being together this year, what’s the point in wasting another second? Sure, I was hurt before tonight, but hearing you explain everything so openly to me made me happier than you can imagine. I want you to go out with me. I want you to see how much I care about you and know how far I’ll go to make you happy, and fall for me just like I’ve fallen for you.”

He seems resolute when he says this, serious but sweet all the same, and now it’s your turn to be shocked and dazed by how honest he’s being at the moment. This must have been how he felt earlier, unable to say the right words or relax his body even after your reassurance. You want to tell him that what he said is pretty silly. Silly because you already fell for him without even realizing it and there’s little else he needs to do to prove himself in your eyes. Unable to vocalize all of this, you simply move closer to him until you’re face to face. His hands come to softly rest on your waist out of habit, stabilizing you as you slowly rise on your knees and lean into his lips, kissing them innocently to convey what you feel.

As soon as your lips find his, chills shoot throughout his body. God, he’s missed your lips. Missed the way you smile into the kiss when he presses deeper and pulls you closer with his insistent hands. You tell him everything he needs to know with every movement you make, your hands snaking up from his chest to his neck where they twine loosely in the hair at the back of his head. His breath hitches when you throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs until it bunches around your hips. You pull away from his mouth, panting and grinning in his lap.

“Okay.” You nod, accepting him.

“Okay?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile.

“Yes. I want that, too.” He allows you to press into him again, his back molding into the cushions of the seat as you rest your weight on him fully.

“Good.” You can see he’s trying not to look overly excited by this because he’s biting his lips hard to contain his smile, but his eyes betray his happiness to you. When he sees you smiling at him, he buries his face in your neck, leaving playful butterfly kisses that flutter ticklishly against the skin of your neck, chest, and shoulders causing you to giggle.

“Jimin stop, that tickles!” You squeal, halfheartedly squirming to get away, but he has his hands tight on your hips to keep you in place. Giggling at your playfulness, he lets his lips linger just a little longer with each peck, stealing licks and nibbles every so often until he trails his way back up to your lips. His fingers slide down to press into the smooth skin of your exposed thighs, wanting but not pushy even as the kisses become hungrier.

You didn’t intend on your make out session turning into anything more, but the atmosphere quickly shifts in that direction as soon as your hips start to roll against his. As soon as your crotch meets his, Jimin bucks into you slightly and you let out a mewl into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your body start to heat when he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring you in sync with the rolls of you hips. Just having you close to him again has his body reacting and he’s sure you can feel him hardening in his slacks, light hisses leaving him whenever you catch his tip against your thigh or pull at his roots, tugging his head back to you every time he tries to pull away to gasp. A wet patch seeps into his briefs beneath your expert hips, ruining his slacks from the inside while you ruin them from the outside with the wetness you drip from your panties.

Jimin’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress, breaking from you shortly to silently ask your permission, and once you nod he delicately removes the clothing item before tossing it to the other side of the sofa. Taking it further, he pulls down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts to him, gently rubbing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

“So pretty,” He whispers, bending down to take one into his mouth, sucking the bud as you hump against him faster. Your fingers, still wound in his hair, keep him steady at your chest, tiny whimpers leaving your lips at each flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your pert nipple. He works around your tits just how you like it, having learned exactly what makes you mewl from the many times he’s found himself in your bed. Your chest is glossy by the time you peel him away, the pressure in your core no longer satisfied by your grinding, and he gives you a questioning look when you move to stand in front of him with your hands on the button of his slacks. Completely forgetting about your ankle, your leg gives as soon as you put pressure on the bad foot and Jimin catches you swiftly, flipping you so that you now lay against the cushions with him kneeling in front of you. “Be careful,” He scolds lightly, trailing kisses up your thighs.

“You don’t want me to give you the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’?” He snorts at your puppy eyes, pulling down your panties with a shake of his head.

“Not today,” The pecks he leaves up your inner thighs have goosebumps prickling your skin.

“But you love the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’!” Your pout becomes more prominent when he spreads your legs further apart, anticipation building exponentially in your gut.

“Please stop calling it that,” Jimin laughs, eyes squinting cutely at you. “Tonight I wanna show you how much I missed you. Just relax, baby, let me take care of you.” He doesn’t give you time for a rebuttal, diving down to lick up the arousal that dribbles down your folds, following the trail up with his tongue until he reaches your clit with a flick. You moan immediately and he’s almost surprised by your sensitivity, concealing a small smirk by dipping down to do it again.

His fingers part your lower lips, allowing him to press his tongue more firmly on your bud, and it’s all you can do not to shriek at the bolts of pleasure it sends up your spine. It’s like he’s injected lava into your veins, heat spreading all throughout your body and pooling in your core with every eager swipe of his tongue against your bud, setting your nerves alight. Jimin has always shown enthusiasm for oral— you remember one night in particular where he pinned you down and wouldn’t let up until you were begging and crying for him to stop as your 5th orgasm of the night washed over you— but this is something different entirely. His movements are slow and deliberate, sensual patterns drawn against your most intimate areas to build you up slowly but steadily, focused solely on your throbbing clit that practically begs for his attention. He has his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every emotion that flickers across your features and noting what brings you the most pleasure, although he already knows from experience.

“Mmh,” He growls into you as you continue to drip for him. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, your essence coating his cheeks and chin messily. It smears against his lips when you start to rock into him, moaning lewdly in tandem with your movements and holding onto the back of his head for leverage. He really doesn’t mind how you hold his face so tightly to your center. The heat from your core and thighs give his cheeks a delightful flush but he doesn’t pull away for a second, instead using his lips to suck on your pearl until your legs quiver around him. One of his hands drops down to palm at the ever increasing tent in his pants, his dick already at full hardness and twitching impatiently for the chance to be inside you. Just thinking about being inside your wet heat again makes his eyes roll— fuck, he needs to calm down before he cums in his pants. But he can’t help but shift his hips in search of friction when two of his fingers enter you with no resistance, slipping in to the knuckle because of the copious amounts of fluids you leak. It’s easy to find your spot, and when he does your back arches from the chair.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m close.” You gasp out, tossing your head back as you rub yourself against his face more forcefully.

“Already?” He mumbles against you, the words muffled because he refuses to pull away, but the vibrations of his voice go straight through you. All you can offer is a needy whine to him but it’s more than enough for him to double his efforts. He pushes at your thigh to open you again, then flattens his wet muscle over your clit, using his whole mouth to please you with broad licks that make your toes curl. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he strokes at your spot, pulsing synchronously with the bud against his tongue, and he catches the most beautiful look take over your face as he brings you to climax.

Your skin flushes as the high overtakes you, mouth parted to let out the cutest moans and curses mixed with his name, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows scrunched together as wave after wave crashes down on you. His name has never sounded better to him as it falls from your pretty lips on repeat, drowning out the squelch of your wetness as he fingers you through your bliss. Feeling you pulsate around him is a feeling he’ll never get tired of, but he’d much rather feel you throb around his cock instead of his fingers, his hips bucking up into the air in anticipation.

“So fucking sexy,” Jimin groans, obsessed with the way your hips squirm when it becomes too much. His wet lips press kisses down your trembling leg as you catch your breath, ending with your tender ankle that he babies apologetically.

“Holy shit.” You finally find it within yourself to whisper, melting into the couch beneath you.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you cum that hard before.” He isn’t teasing when he says this, but your cheeks heat up regardless, averting your eyes away from his gentle gaze.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you, so I’m a little hypersensitive now.” It’s been months since anyone has touched you. Truthfully, it wasn’t only because you felt bad because of your silence toward Jimin, but that certainly played a part in it. Even still, you don’t like how his face morphs into shock as if there’s a horn growing out of your forehead. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, no it’s just- I haven’t been with anyone else either...” He didn’t like to think about it, but he assumed that you were getting your needs fulfilled by someone else after you had stopped talking to him. Knowing you hadn’t been with anyone else makes an odd relief come over him. Now he’s blushing too and you still can’t look at him, but he climbs up your body to kiss you anyway, easing your momentary shyness. The kiss reignites your desire and suddenly he feels your hands tugging at his zipper, working to free his member from his confinement. He takes this time to remove his own shirt, unclipping your bra and tossing it into the pile of clothes that now sits at the end of his couch as you yank down his slacks and briefs in one go.

His length springs free before you, the sight pulling a whimper from your lips. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, thick and long and smooth in all the right places, and it never fails to make you gush every time you see it. You can practically feel it inside you already and you can’t wait another minute, wrapping your warm fingers around the base and stroking drips of precum from the tip. Jimin groans with a bite of his lip, removing your hands from him and leaning away.

“Turn over for me.” He instructs, gripping himself as he watches you spin onto your knees with your arms draped over the back of the couch. You look back at him with flirtatious eyes, wiggling your ass at him to entice him into action. A smack lands on one of your cheeks, the flesh jiggling from its force and you hear a sharp inhale behind you. “Comfortable?”

Always the gentleman, he always checks to make sure you’re okay. But you’re far beyond that point, seconds away from grabbing him and pushing him into you yourself.

“Yes, now please fuck me already, I’m going insane.” He snickers at the way you push back toward him, hole searching for his length blindly as sweat accumulates on your back.

“Anything for you, babe.” Fingers collecting your dripping essence, Jimin takes the time to spread your lubricant over himself, allowing you to hear the slick noise and his heavy breaths as you wait on quivering knees. After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel him drag his hot tip through your folds, tapping the weight against you until you’re just about ready to crack. But just as you take in a breath to scold him, he pushes in to the hilt and forces a groan from you.

The intrusion is tight. He almost goes cross-eyed at how tightly you squeeze him upon entry, and he’s awed into silence at the way your velvet repeatedly clenches and relaxes as you try to adjust. At least he thinks you’re trying to adjust, until he brings his fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing, only for the clenching to get more intense.

“Is that okay?” He asks, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back.

“It’s amazing,” You nearly sob, rocking back into him. “Please move, I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you’re even finished your sentence he’s pulling back, leaving you completely empty except for his tip before thrusting forward. You both moan at the movement and he starts a fairly quick pace, standing erect and gripping your hips securely. Just like the first time he had you, you steal his breath away. It’s addicting, the way he glides in so easily with the thick coating of arousal you cover him in, and he wonders how the hell he lasted months without you. He thrusts deep, giving you every inch and loving the curses and whimpers you let out.

“Shit baby, just like that.” You gasp, digging your nails into the top of the sofa at the pleasure. The arch in your back deepens when he hits your spot, and you involuntarily clench around him, goosebumps crawling up your skin when the tightness pulls a deep groan from him. His cock is the perfect shape, the perfect length for you, and he touches places within you that you can never reach on your own. Every snap of his hips is precise, intended to give you the utmost pleasure because Jimin simply adores seeing you fall apart for him, but there’s something else tonight. Passion. You can feel it in the way his hands roam your body freely, tracing over your curves and caressing you with a tenderness that you haven’t felt before from anyone. His thumbs massage the dimples in your back even as he rams into you, dipping down to line your shoulder blades in sloppy kisses.

“Fuck (Y/n), I missed you so much.” Jimin rasps, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck as he changes his pace to a swivel of his hips. “Missed our long talks, missed your laugh, those cute little moans— mmh— and I especially missed fucking this tight, wet pussy.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound a little cocky, but that’s ruined by the shakiness of your voice. He still has your legs shaking even with the delicate strokes he now delivers, and you have to rest your forehead on the back of the couch to catch your breath.

“I can’t tell you how much I thought about you these past few months. I drove myself crazy wondering if I’d get to see you again.” His voice drops an octave when you squeeze at his words, your walls fluttering along with your heart.

“S-sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, at least I get to have you now.” And have you he does. Whether he knows it or not, he owns your body and heart already and there’s no going back now. Nodding, you start to rock backwards against him, fucking yourself on his cock. He stops moving to let you work, biting down on your shoulder at the feeling as you spread your legs wider to get more leverage. His moans and grunts spur you on, wordless encouragement as you render him speechless with your hips. If he wouldn’t let you use your mouth on him, the least you could do is take some of the work off his hands to pay him back. If it wasn’t for your bum ankle you’d be riding him off into the sunset right now, but you settle for working hard on pleasuring him like this.

His hands aid your movements, pulling you back onto him as you feel the light layer of sweat smear on your shoulder when he rests his forehead against it. One of his hands inches toward your midsection, pressing down slightly to feel the bulge of his tip as it slips in and out of you, pulling a desperate moan from you. The pressure around his member increases from the external force and he moans alongside you, the sweet sound breathed right next to your ear and traveling straight to your core.

“I’m- I’m close again.” You hiccup, faltering in your motions.

Without a word, Jimin pulls out of you, ignoring your whine to move you onto your back swiftly. He situates himself between your open legs, smirking at how they tremble on either side of him as he lines himself up and pushes back into you. At your gasp he steals a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and savoring the taste of your moans. He drops down to his elbows but you pull him closer until all of his weight rests on top of you, even if it causes his thrusts to be less efficient. When he pulls away for air, he smiles down at you.

“Hi,”

“Hi.” You return, brushing some hair away from his eyes.

“I just wanted you to face me so I could watch you cum again.” Jimin explains cheekily, proud of the blush he pulls from your cheeks.

“Then make me cum.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Swooping down for another kiss, his hand immediately slithers between your body to reach for your clit, pressing into it with his fingers as his hips pick up speed. You’re confused at first when his hand doesn’t move, your pearl throbbing beneath him, but it’s soon forgotten when he touches your g-spot again and makes you see stars.

Your orgasm builds up with every hard stroke of his, and when your legs move up to wrap around him he hits so much deeper. A knot is forming in his own belly from looking at you, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him as you tug on his scalp. The sparks of pain only add to the almost overwhelming pleasure of being inside you, and Jimin has to focus hard to avoid cumming before you. He grits his teeth as he fucks you harder, reveling in the music of your squelching wetness and the slap of your skin, keeping the rhythm steady to please you. Your hands leave his hair as the pleasure mounts. They grapple at anything around you as you start to lose control, grabbing at the cushions beneath you, scratching down his back, holding onto your own legs, until they finally settle on the firm muscles of his ass, urging him on.

Then he feels it. The steady clamp of your cunt that tells him quite clearly that you’re ready.

Shifting his fingers to swipe a glob of your arousal, Jimin begins rubbing into your clit vigorously, holding his position solidly above you when your body jolts from the sensation. You feel as if he’s rubbing a fireball into your core, heating you up until you’re panting and sweating and just about ready to combust. He’s assaulting you from all sides, battering your g-spot, attacking your clit with his nimble fingers, and sucking at your stiffened nipples; the onslaught of bliss sending you head-first into a breathtaking orgasm.

Looking up at you through lidded eyes, Jimin feels like he’s flying. You look completely enveloped in bliss, pride swelling in his chest as you call out his name and pull him closer until there’s no space between you. Feeling you cum around him is his favorite feeling, he loves the erratic spasms of your inner muscles, how the rest of your body tenses around him, the uncontrollable jump of your hips as he works you through it all with slow fingers until you try to squeeze your legs shut around his body and he takes pity on your whimpering. It feels so good you could cry, and there’s nothing he loves more than the watery eyed smile you give him when you finally peek your eyes open to stare up at him.

His heart clenches as he looks down at you, racing for a reason unrelated to the vigorous movements of his hips. Seeing you like this, with stars in your eyes and soft adoration for him, has him hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair and continue to clench around him, whispering dirty words to push him over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” Jimin grunts, the crease between his eyebrows growing.

“That’s it, baby,” You drawl as you suck your own love marks into his skin. “Cum for me.”

With a strained groan, Jimin pulls out of you and rubs himself against your lower abdomen, shivering when you drop down a hand to stroke him until white ribbons coat your stomach. There’s a lot of cum and it makes a mess all over you, yet you enjoy every drop, savoring the quivering moans from the man above you. When he’s finished, you release him and reach for his face, bringing him down for a searing kiss.

You don’t know how long you kiss him like that, but you do know that he breaks away all too soon, pushing himself up off the couch to gaze upon his artwork. He lets out a growl of approval, to which you laugh and throw one a pillow at him.

“Pervert.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything!” He snickers on his way out of the room, returning with a wet washcloth to clean you with. His touch is so gentle that you could fall asleep right there, but you force yourself to stay awake to bask in the moment. It’s then that you realize the tv is still on, the movie you had been watching having ended long ago. You reach for the remote and turn off the screen, watching instead as Jimin busies himself with tidying the room. He reaches for you when he deems it good enough, all of your clothes folded at the other end of the couch and his cushions clean of any bodily fluids, and this time when he lifts you into his arms you allow it.

After helping you to the bathroom and making sure you didn’t fall or walk on your injured foot, he rests you on his bed gently and tosses you one of his shirts, slipping on a new pair of boxers for himself. As soon as his warmth enters the bed with you, your entire body relaxes. Cuddling after sex hadn’t always been your thing, but it became routine a few months after seeing Jimin. He couldn’t resist and you couldn’t say no and now it comes almost automatically. He lets you wrap your arms around his midsection and rest your head on his beating heart, his own arm slung around your waist. These moments, these quiet moments where the silence is comfortable and simply feeling your skin is enough, are what he missed the most. He’s never wanted this kind of intimacy with anyone else. Never craved to hug anyone and never let go until he met you. No one has ever occupied his thoughts like this, made him slightly irrational or scared him as much as you do— he’s never been scared to lose someone before he was faced with that situation with you. Jimin is certain he’s never been in love before, therefore he has no idea what it feels like, but now he’s starting to wonder if this is it. The thought is equal parts terrifying and comforting and all he can do is hold you closer.

A chuckle from you draws his attention to the silly smirk on your face, and he just knows you’re about to say something stupid.

“So, you missed this gorilla grip pussy?” Of course you would say something like that. You’re the only person he knows who would say that to someone in seriousness— just like how you came up with that foolish name for a blowjob. But it’s one of your many charms. He stifles a laugh knowing it would only encourage you, but you catch the rise of his cheeks and laugh anyway.

“Ugh, why do I even put up with you?” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Because of this gorilla grip pussy.” You state as though it were obvious, clinging to him as he lightheartedly tries to push you off.

“God, I missed your goofy ass.” His lips find your forehead and your snuggle deeper into his chest.

“And my-“

“Please, don’t say it again.” Jimin stops you with a wrinkle of his nose, pulling the sheets higher up your bodies. “But yes, I missed that too.” Your giggles settle down after a few seconds and then the mood shifts to something a bit more serious. “(Y/n).”

“Hmm?” You hum, closing your eyes.

“Never think you aren’t good enough. Your past doesn’t define your future and just because a few people treated you poorly in the past doesn’t mean that you’re unworthy of love. You may think that what you went through makes you undesirable, but in my eyes it makes you look incredibly strong. And you’re even stronger to be able to share your experiences with me and open yourself up after all that’s happened. I want you to know that I will never fault you for the shitty things other people have done, and I will spend every day showing you just how amazing you are to me, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t open your eyes as he speaks, afraid that the tears that have been welling up will spill over if you open them. Hearing him say this means the world to you and you’re inclined to believe every word. These are the kinds of things he would say to you when you were still just fuck buddies. He always listened with empathy and took the time reassuring you that nothing you went through was your fault, yet you still doubted him when he showed interest in dating you. Looking back on it, you feel silly. How could you ever doubt such a genuine man, who has never taken advantage of you even once when you poured your heart out to him, who is so understanding and caring that you feel instantly at ease when talking to him? Jimin is everything you ever wanted, and for once your heart and brain can agree to let yourself be happy.

“Thank you, Jimin.” You sniffle, leaning into the hand that now strokes through your hair as his words replay in your mind. You don’t like getting emotional, so you try to dispel it by using humor. “If you truly mean it then get ready, I only get goofier from here.”

He giggles. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh it is, trust me.”

“I do.” The seriousness of his tone has you glancing up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the affection in his eyes. You clear your throat, feeling a blush creep up your neck so you look away. “So will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better. We could go out for breakfast.” His smile is blinding and your blush deepens. You’re not used to getting shy, but Jimin seems to bring it out of you.

“Brunch. I have a feeling we’ll be sleeping in.” Glancing at the clock, you note how late it is, well past midnight and any other reasonable bedtime. That doesn’t seem to matter, however, because you will probably spend all night laying awake from the excitement of what will come tomorrow— and the day after, and the day after that. Your months of worrying have finally come to an end and this feels like a brand new start. You have no idea what it’ll be like to date Jimin, but the promise of it all is too much to bear. The smile doesn’t leave your face for the rest of the night, not even as you fall asleep.

“Brunch it is.”

#Jimin smut #Jimin angst #bcccse #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #clubjimin #ficswithluv

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ncssian · 4 years ago

Text

A Favor: Part Six

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: nsfw sort of?? barely

***

Cassian is going to kill Nesta.

He’s never met a woman so stubborn that she would rather throw herself under a bus than accept help from others.

“What happened to your rants about universal healthcare and redistributing wealth?” He gestures furiously between the two of them while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “I’m trying to redistribute the wealth!”

She scoffs from the passenger seat. “Nice try, comrade. I’m not letting you dangle your wallet over me while I live with you for free. It’s disgusting and manipulative.”

Cassian wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. “Why do you automatically assume I’m trying to manipulate you?” he says incredulously.

“You don’t get to pay for my things,” she snaps. “They’re mine.”

“I know you’re already broke from that MRI—”

“That’s none of your business.”

They pull up to one of the university buildings. “Oh, great argument.” Cassian brings the truck to a stop. “Are you gonna use that one in court?”

Nesta buttons her blue blazer and furiously grabs her things, not saying a word.

“What are you thinking now?” Cassian pokes, the hardness dissolved from his voice a little.

She shoves the passenger door open. “How much longer it’s going to take to get my car fucking fixed,” she bites, hopping out of the truck and slamming the door shut on Cassian’s face.

Clenching his jaw, he watches her walk sharply for the building, tension ratcheting her figure. Impossible woman.

She does look damn good in a pantsuit, though.

***

Nesta has to take deep breaths before she enters the mock courtroom, refusing to let Cassian get to her head right now.

It's not his offering to pay for her endometriosis treatment that pisses her off, but it's that he won't take no for an answer. She wishes he could just let her dig herself into a hole of debt and despair like millions of Americans already do every day. She wishes he wouldn't demand an explanation from her every time she screams and cries about getting her way.

Later. Her mind clears through an imaginary filter. You’ll deal with him later.

Now, she has a case to win.

Nesta strides into the courtroom with her file of documents and takes the speaker’s bench, her opponent already seated on the other side of the aisle. Emerie Nikolis is five feet nine inches of Mediterranean goddess, and the only student at Prythian Law who’s been able to challenge Nesta for her spot at the top of the class. Not that she’s succeeded.

Nesta’s never been up against another woman for a moot court, though, and it adds a buzz to her nerves. Men always come into the courtroom with too much confidence and not enough research, and from there Nesta can steadily dismantle their arguments until they’re left spluttering. From Emerie’s cutting hawk eyes, Nesta knows she doesn’t function like that.

As student judges file in and head for their seats, Nesta leans over and mutters to Emerie, “Good luck defending the side that represents everything morally corrupt with this country.”

Emerie brushes back her ponytail and smiles mockingly at Nesta. “You mean the side that powerful white men have chosen since the beginning of time? I won’t need luck.”

Nesta scowls at the panel of student judges. They are all white men.

“You’re lucky I enjoy a challenge,” she hisses, and sits back in her seat as they start calling oyez.

***

Cassian doesn’t mean to fall asleep.

He’s cleaning up around the house while Nesta is gone, and ends up finding a worn paperback trapped between the leather cushions of the couch. Pulling it out, he takes one look at the cover and nearly chokes. A half-undressed man graces the cover in regency-era clothes, his flowy shirt unbuttoned to reveal toned abs. A woman with golden curls clutches onto him passionately, only dressed in a corset and underskirt.

A slow smirk spreads over his face and he snickers. He didn't know people read these anymore. A glance at the back of the book proves his point: published in 1999, a true vintage piece.

Plopping onto the couch and laying back, he opens the paperback. If Nesta doesn't want him reading her books, she shouldn't leave them lying around the place.

Flipping to a random page, he frowns when it isn't a smut scene. Boring. He keeps flipping until he finds one, and props his feet onto the armrest to get comfortable. Now what exactly does Nesta Archeron get off to?

Over an hour and a hundred pages of surprisingly tender romance later, his aching eyes finally slip closed. The open book falls onto his face, and the scent of faded ink follows him into sleep.

Cassian is in a dim candle-lit room. Foiled wallpaper and overstuffed furniture decorates the space, and there, by the small window, she waits.

She turns her head to speak over her shoulder, “You came.”

“I did.” The line comes to him naturally.

Without turning around, her hands reach up for her hair. She starts removing pins from her updo, golden curls falling apart one by one. Once the last pin drops, she finally turns around.

Gleaming locks now frame her soft face and shoulders; her pale breasts rise and fall above the low curve of her thin nightgown. Under the candlelight, she looks freshly forged and porcelain-like at the same time.

“Could you help me?” Nesta says.

Cassian is stuck in his spot, unable to move. He's never seen Nesta like this: so heavenly, but so different.

“Cassian?” she asks again.

“Oh,” he stutters, “um— what do you need?”

She steps closer. “You.” His breathing stops. Nesta slips her slender hands up his arms, to his shoulders. She's holding him close. “I need you to tell me something.”

“Anything.”

Her breath fans over his face. “Do you want me?”

Cassian is very still.

“Do you want me like I want you, Cassian?” she repeats, pressing closer to him. He can feel her nipples through the wispy fabric of her gown.

“Yes,” he breathes shakily. He doesn't know which hurts more: wanting Nesta or being wanted by her.

“Have you been very lonely, Cassian?” She drags her hands back down his arms, finding his hands and placing them on her shoulders. “Is that why you like having me around so much, because you’ve been lonely?”

This Nesta knows him… a little too well. His breath hitches as his hands, directed by Nesta’s hands, slowly pushes down the sleeves of her nightgown. In a flash, the fabric has dropped to her waist, baring her unblemished chest and stomach. Before Cassian can even absorb what's happening, her arms are winding around his neck again, and now she's pressing entreating kisses into the crook of his neck.

“Tell me,” she mutters onto his skin. “Do I make you feel heard, or am I just a pretty face to you?”

“Nes—Nesta.” Cassian tries to swallow air.

She smells so good. She feels so good, and she's not even doing anything to him, just holding him.

“Heard,” he gasps when she goes for the buttons of his shirt, her mouth finding his chest. “You make me feel heard. I like it when we talk and you listen to me. Nobody listens to me.”

She pulls away from him, mouth shining. He just now realizes how jarring the gilded ringlets of her hair are.

“That’s so good,” Nesta purrs, reaching up to clasp his face. Her hands feel thin and rough, like paper. “You’re so good.” She reaches in, her lips chasing his, and—

Awareness seeps into the corners of Cassian’s reality, and his eyes peel open. He blinks between two different worlds until he finally realizes— it was a dream.

Of course it was a dream. Nesta doesn't have blonde hair or curls. And her skin isn't porcelain smooth, but dotted with freckles and moles. And yet, the arousal stirred in him is very much real, evident by the ache in his dick. Fuck.

A throat clears softly and Cassian jumps. The romance book is still on his face, he notices, and his world is darkened by the rough pages. Batting it away, confused, he fully awakens when he sees who’s in front of him.

She’s still in her pantsuit from this morning, but her hair is undone and her cheeks carry a rare flush. Her clothes are rumpled.

“Nesta.” He scrambles upright, painfully aware that he was just dreaming about her half-naked. He carefully arranges his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling between his legs. “You’re back,” he says casually. Taking notice of the blackness outside the windows, he becomes concerned. “You’ve been out this whole time? Oh God, I was supposed to pick you up—”

“No, no,” she says quickly. “Didn’t you see my texts? I went out with some people from moot court.”

Cassian widens his eyes. He’s never heard her mention any friends from school, much less leave the cabin to hang out with other people.

“I totally kicked this girl’s ass in the Title IX case I was telling you about,” Nesta goes on, “and she wanted to take me out for afternoon drinks, and some other guys ended up tagging along too…” She twists a piece of hair around her finger, the experience sounding as brand new to her as Cassian suspects it is. “And yeah, then she got me a cab.”

He raises a brow and leans back. “You willingly let someone else pay for you? Wow, you really are drunk.”

The smile blossoming on her mouth drops and the cold veneer returns. “So you go through my stuff while I’m gone?” she scolds. “How many times are we going to have the boundaries conversation?”

Cassian picks up the paperback still on the couch. “Oh, this? This was just a little light reading. You know, since I share my Netflix and Prime with you, I figured you could share your period-piece smut with me.” He fans through the pages, trying to find the spot he left off on. “I didn’t even know people read physical romance books anymore. That’s like me keeping VHS tapes of porn instead of using my phone.”

Nesta stomps over and snatches the book out of his hands. “It’s not like I enjoy owning books with ugly covers,” she hisses. “I get headaches reading e-books. And this is a classic.” She carefully wipes at the cover as if Cassian got dirt all over it.

Cassian tries to snatch it back. “I wasn’t done with it,” he grits. “Nesta, give it back.”

“I’m glad we brought up boundaries,” she says instead. “Because we need to talk about this morning.” Shoving the book into her pants waistband, she peels off her blazer and takes a seat on the coffee table in front of Cassian.

Cassian blinks, gripped by the authority in her movements. Nesta pokes a finger at his chest. “What you said bothered me all day. Nearly ruined my night. So I’m telling you now, I’m not taking your money for anything, ever. And if you bring up the topic again, I’m moving out.” She sounds dead serious.

He’s not afraid of her. “I’m bringing up the topic now,” he pushes back, his tone hard. “As someone who considers you a friend, I don’t like to see my friends struggling.”

Nesta blinks, and maybe finally accepts that she can’t fight her way out of this, because she drops her finger. “I can’t be financially dependent on a man, Cassian,” she admits, refusing to look away from him. “I’ve done it before, and it’s no way to live life. I don’t care how nice you are; I’m not taking your money. And you can’t make me.” She doesn’t shout or hiss that last part. It’s said with a quiet strength, and it makes Cassian want to concede everything. If this is about her ex-boyfriend, then he doesn’t want to be anything like him.

But it doesn’t change the fact that her health is still on the line. “What if you don’t take my money?” he says quickly. “What if I make you work for it?”

Law school doesn’t allow for part-time jobs on the side, and Nesta’s been scraping by with scholarships and leftover money from her father’s will. The suffering is worth it now, she told Cassian once, if she’s at a law firm the year after next with a starting salary of 100K.

Nesta purses her lips, skeptical. “What kind of work?”

“You can be a legal consultant for Night Court.”

“Do I look qualified to be a legal consultant?” She’s glaring now.

“Well, it’s either that or you get to be my personal assistant.” Nesta looks even more outraged at that, and Cassian holds up his hands. “I respect your need to stay independent,” he says, “but you can’t convince me that a handout or two is worse than going broke.” Cassian himself would be dead right now without all the handouts he got over the course of his life. “Please, Nesta,” he says quietly. “Think about it for me. And if you still hate it, I’ll never bother you about it again.” Even though it would kill him.

Nesta stares at him, the gears in her brain visibly turning. Finally— “Rhysand’s company does run on handouts anyway,” she mutters, glancing away. “What’s one more?”

Before Cassian can drop to his knees and thank her, she whips her head back to him. “But I want to do real work, Cassian. Not the pretense of work while I get a fat paycheck.”

He bursts into a grin and grabs her arms. “I’m gonna work you so hard.” He kisses her hard on the cheek.

Nesta makes a choking noise and starts coughing, and Cassian realizes how that sounded. “Did I say something wrong?” he plays innocent.

Nesta’s face is red for reasons other than alcohol now, but she covers it up by shoving Cassian hard enough to send him into the couch cushions. “Asshole.” She pulls her book out of her waistband and throws it at Cassian’s chest. “Have your romance back, I’m going to bed.”

“Hey— wait, it's six p.m. What about the puzzle?” he calls after her. She ignores him and keeps walking.

“Fine,” he says to her back, “but don't go to sleep with your contacts in again; you're gonna hurt yourself.”

As she reaches the stairs, he adds, “I’m proud of you for the moot court, by the way. I’m telling everybody you're the smartest person I know.”

Nesta pauses briefly at that, before saying, “Goodnight, Cassian,” and continuing up to her room.

Later that night, Cassian does want to tell everybody that Nesta is the smartest person he knows. She's the smartest, coolest, and wittiest person he knows, full stop, with killer looks and a criminally underrated personality. But something is holding him back from sharing his feelings with the rest of the world.

It's the same feeling that's had him avoiding Feyre these last few weeks. The unspoken knowledge that not everybody sees Nesta the way Cassian does, paired with the fierce desire to protect her from any sort of criticism.

He doesn't have any definitive proof to justify his feelings, but he knows he can't stop thinking about Nesta. He knows his friends will take notice of the change in his behavior eventually, so in a fit of restlessness, he reaches for his phone to test a theory.

Scrolling through his contacts, Cassian eventually settles on Mor. She's close to Feyre and Cassian both, has an inclination to gossip, and she’s never interacted with Nesta. Perfect.

Cassian: what do you think of Nesta?

He's straightforward with her the way he always is, the way she always is with him.

Mor answers quickly without question: didn’t she let feyre work her ass off at age 14 while she sat around and did nothing?

Mor: she sounds like a bitch and i have yet to see anything to the contrary.

Mor: she has very nice eyes though

Mor: if u know what i mean ( . )( . )

Cassian wishes he hadn’t even asked. He doesn’t even know how to reply to that, so he’s about to turn his phone off when another message from Mor comes in.

Mor: why do you ask? how are things going with you two?

Cassian sighs deeply, not in the mood to start a fight with one of his best friends. He never told Feyre about taking Nesta to the doctor, or the following MRI and diagnosis. The last time he had a real conversation with Feyre was the first night of Nesta’s period, when he was worried sick over how to take care of her.

“What should I do, Feyre? She's crying herself sick upstairs and all I have is this stupid hot towel.”

“You don't have to do that,” she sighed tiredly over the phone. “Nesta goes through this every month. She’ll survive. Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing.”

That was when he decided he was calling a doctor no matter what.

And now… He’s confused and upset and he doesn't know why. Instead of arguing with Mor, he texts back, it’s nothing. A second later, he adds, but she's not a bitch.

He wants to say more, but texting Mor an essay on why she’s wrong for judging Nesta without knowing her would make him look crazy, among other things. He doesn’t know why he has to clarify that Nesta isn’t a bitch in the first place.

Either way, Cassian’s theory was proven correct.

He decides not to mention Nesta to his friends anymore.

***

Nesta lays in bed, thinking about the absolute day she’s had.

If getting drunk with Emerie Nikolis and Eris Vanserra at two in the afternoon wasn’t enough, stumbling back home to find Cassian like that finished her off for good. Her cheek has been tingling for hours.

She remembers how this housing agreement between them first started: I need you to know you can enforce whatever rules and boundaries you want while you’re here.

Nesta huffs a laugh. Boundaries are for strangers. Cassian seems content to poke and tug at Nesta’s boundaries whenever he wants, and Nesta… is okay with this. A mere month ago, this would have been her worst nightmare— living with a man who pushes her on every decision, who never does what she wants but somehow always knows what she needs.

But now they're friends, and Nesta is slowly learning that the rules are different with friends. Not everything has to be spelled out, because Cassian will understand what she's trying to say anyway. Not everything that is unknown has to be scary, because Cassian is never scary.

He’s allowed to read her books because he won’t make fun of them. He's allowed to know about her personal health matters because he won’t tell anybody else. And apparently, he’s allowed to give her a job so she doesn’t go broke trying to afford endo treatment.

These are the new rules.

She’s ridiculously glad that she told Lorene she won’t be coming back to the apartment for a few weeks. She doesn't know what she'll do after then, but for now she is okay.

***

a/n: hello i love writing cassian pov and learning more about him so much :) also thinking about having cassian call nesta 'baby' when they get together more often than 'sweetheart' just bc i think it would be a good look on him. pls share ur opinion.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 4 years ago

Text

a flower for a flower

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: smut (i want to say pure smut, but i also ramble a lot, so it’s not just smut—close to it though), food innuendos and other cheesy things, fluff, harry in his pimp daddy outfit, oral (f & m receiving), exhibitionism (mentions of voyeurism), teasing, soft!dom feels, praising kink, a couple of good girls thrown in there

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: a walk on the beach leads to more

author’s note: hi, i hope you're doing well :) sorry the synopsis sucks, but you know what i mean! xx hope you enjoy

masterlist

—

She’d never been the type to like the beach.

Granted, she had never been to an actual beach, like the ocean kind of beach, until she was well into her twenties, but that’s beside the point.

Then, she met Harry.

Harry, someone who has nothing but kindness and love in his soul, open for anyone who’s willing to take him, scared her when they first met. She has always been anxious, riddled with insecurities and tension, and to meet someone who breathed and exuded nothing but unadulterated confidence was absolutely terrifying. At that moment in time, she thought she could never be with someone who was like that, thinking that it would be difficult to keep up with someone like him.

And she was never one to take risks.

She will be forever grateful for finding someone who is able to open her eyes and give her the opportunity to see and do things that she never even dreamed about. It definitely helps that he is the way he is. She doesn’t think she would have ever found the courage to be the woman she is today without him being just him, kind and patient.

Now, the beach is their safe place. The ocean is their escape from the world around them, a peaceful place for them to simply be with each other.

It’s a little past noon, the sun high in the clear sky, with only a couple of clouds shrouding the beautiful day. She’s been sitting on the sidelines underneath a fluttering umbrella, working on some unfinished assignments she has for her classes. She hasn’t gotten much work done, however, not only because she gets easily distracted in general but also because of the teasing looks Harry shoots her.

She watches him through large sunglasses, a chipping gold coloured wire surrounding fading pink lenses, as he sits at the table once again, setting down a plate of watermelon atop the terribly ugly tablecloth. He told her how important this shot was before when they were driving to the beach location. With jittery hands and giddy eyes, he told her about how it was going to be the teaser that would be posted a couple days before the big release. Getting the “perfect” shot hasn’t been going too well, especially since Harry knocked over the glass of orange juice in the very first take.

Despite his pleas and the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes, she declined his offer to be a part of the video, opting to sit and watch from afar. She has never been one to put herself into any situation that forced the attention more on herself than necessary. Besides, when their relationship is in the public eye (it’s, sadly, an inevitable part of their journey), she doesn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about their relationship, that she’s simply using him to better herself.

The director calls for a quick lunch break before the next couple of scenes, and Harry took it as an opportunity to spend some time with her, having been distracted and busy for the better part of the day. He tugs her up from the worn chair, a brittle little thing that had been sitting in the patio of her rental house for what looks like centuries (she was honestly surprised when it didn’t crumble beneath her). Watching their footprints spread and sink and die beneath merciless waves as the tide rolls further and further in, they walk to a more isolated part of the beach.

A pair of green sunglasses, large and shaped like hearts, are perched on his head, pulling back the stray curls that always seem to fall onto his forehead, and the necklace she gave him for their anniversary sticks to the skin of his chest, just barely tucked beneath low swooping neck of a dark orange tank amongst an array of dozens of dangling charms and shells.

His eyes are crinkled form the blaring sun, but he still doesn’t move the glasses from his hairline; they don’t cover much of anything anyhow. His feet are still bare as he kicks through the sand, swinging their connected hands between them. The sun beats down on his freckled shoulders, and he savors the warmth. She stops suddenly and turns to face him, a faint smile creeping over her features as her nails tease across the green stitching of the tank.

“Ya know,” she begins, making him turn to face her. He has such a sweet little grin on his face, and she can’t help but melt at the sight. It never gets tiring being able to see Harry in his element.

He’s been beaming since they woke up this morning, especially since she told him she would be joining him at today’s shoot. While his other songs are very dear to him, they don’t hold a candle to Watermelon Sugar because it was made because of her; it was a culmination of everything he’s been through in the past two years, the highs and the lows.

It signifies his new beginnings with her.

When he met her, on that dry summer night, she made everything seemingly fall into place. And later that night, after a couple bottles of wine and a riveting game of twenty questions, he kissed her, her lips, soft and supple, tasting like cheap moscato and strawberries, and he felt like he was breathing for the first time; it was all very new and exciting and dangerous. He knew, after having just gotten out of a relationship, he shouldn’t put his heart so entirely on his sleeve, for fear of having it absolutely shattered. He fell for her hard and fast, despite his reservations and fears and common sense.

Looking back on it now, he’s glad he didn’t listen to his common sense. Then, he wouldn’t be walking with his soulmate on a beach now.

“You look really hot in this,” she says, her hands smoothing along his hips before connecting right above the curve of his bum. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing along the heated skin.

“Yeah?” His lips curl into a teasing smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she returns the light tone, her nose just barely grazing against his. When she catches his lips, they’re sweet and sticky. She holds him steady by the cheeks, feeling the slight stubble. Hands grasped tightly to her bunched dress, he backs her up against a rock as her hands travel toward any piece of open skin she can feel, from his biceps to the tips of his fingers digging into her waist. She feels a rush of anxiety settles in her stomach as he hikes up her dress around her waist, his crotch grinding into hers.

While they used to fill her with dread, these nerves leave her eager and wanton, and she wants so badly to melt into him and have him take her however he wants, but that little voice, the one that always reminded her of every little thing that could possibly go wrong, is screaming at her to stop him. Harry, ever the pusher, who holds her hand and guides her through the things that she never thought she would before, would tell her to shove those fears back, that this is their moment to just be and live, just him and her, together.

Through her inner turmoil, she still focuses on her sensible side, and she hesitates.

“H,” she moans, tugging on his hair. He presses his lips to her neck, tongue dipping out to wet her skin, tasting, savoring her.

“Not that I’m not… loving what you’re doing, but—” Her voice breaks a little as he nibbles and sucks just below her jaw. “We could get caught,” she says breathily, and he pulls back, his hands still tucked in the hollow of her neck and her waist.

Despite the beach being very private, she can’t help but be worried that someone would catch them in such an intimate way, but he just gives her a comforting smile, their fingers interlacing at her hip, and she can feel her worries melt away. She still can barely believe that he can make nearly all of her nerves dissipate with just a simple look or touch.

“Isn’t that a part of the fun?”

Her heart jumps into her throat. Now, all she can think about how someone could catch them at any moment; all she can think about is how stupid and reckless it is for them, especially for him. It’s risky and nerve wracking, but her pussy still throbs in her underwear, wetness seeping into the already stained fabric. She could only imagine the person’s surprise if they rounded the corner to see him on his knees before her, her fingers tracing through his still wet hair as he works his mouth on her.

They’re hidden behind a set of pale rocks, plentifully dotted with dark moss. He nearly covers her, his thick arms resting on the rocks behind her, blanketing her in his shadow. He grinds his hips into her. She tucks a hand beneath the dark orange top, her thumb running along the fleshy meat of his hips, his sun kissed skin smooth beneath her touch. He spreads kisses down to that same weak spot beneath her jaw, still tender from his earlier ministrations.

“Okay,” she hums, finally sinking into him. Despite the heat from the burning sun, she embraces him, tugging and pulling him closer until they’re nestled close, chest to chest, his knee settled between her spread thighs, against the rock behind her.

“You jus’ gotta be quiet,” he mumbles.

That makes her chuckle.

“Me? I’m the loud one?”

Compared ot beginning of their relationship, she has learned how to be more expressive and emotive and assertive when it comes to sex, often telling him exactly what she needs, how she needs it, and when, but she still isn’t near as loud or talkative as he is. He could chatter her ear off about any just anything while he’s fucking her. Initially, it was odd; sex was never an experience she considered to be something that was really open or comfortable, if that makes sense. She always saw it as something that was supposed to be taken very seriously, and it was somewhat of a personal experience, despite it being between two people.

But, perhaps, that was just her anxiety telling her that it’s not a good idea, or it was because of her innermost fear of embarrassing herself.

However, it’s moments like these, where she can barely comprehend the world around her, only being able to move her head slightly, the words completely caught in her throat, that she’s glad that he talks her through everything; she’s glad that she can bear witness to the filthy words that leave his lips, words that make her tremble and quake with anticipation.

He cups her through thin panties, his nails tracing her swollen lips. His rings offer a different kind of friction, one she yearns for, rigid and relentless. She hooks a knee around his waist, and he cups the back of her thigh, the cotton of her dress pooling around his elbow. He pushes the panties to the side with his free hand.

“Your poor little peach,” he pouts teasingly, voice soft. He pinches her puffy clit, and her hips buck against the sudden, harsh touch. “So wet and swollen. ‘M sorry, babylove. If I knew you were feelin’ tingly, would’ve taken this walk earlier.”

He kisses behind her ear, fingers spreading her wetness over her folds, paying special attention to her painfully hard button, throbbing and aching from his faint brushes across her sensitive skin. She whines, head sinking against the rocks, eyes fluttering closed. He pulls her lips apart, until she’s full open to him, her tight, clenching hole seeping with arousal.

“What got you this worked up, lovie?”

Her thighs tremble and shake, her knees threatening to give at any moment.

“Was thinking about… you,” she admits softly, sweetly, and she can feel his bulge thicken just a little more against her.

“Me?” He has an incredulous tone, but the darkening edge to the laughter that punctuates it makes her thighs close around his hand. “Little ol’ me?” A flare of pink has started to form on the rounds of his cheeks, probably from the sun, but it looks cute on him.

“What were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

“This,” she chokes out. That’s all she can really say at this point. With the pressured circles he’s kneading into her poor, swollen clit, she can’t think coherently. It’s not enough to make her come yet, but it’s enough to keep her satiated, just enough for her to teeter on the brink of insanity.

“Dirty girl,” he says, “thinking ‘bout me eating your pretty little peach out here, where anyone could see, your honey drippin’ down your thighs.” She clenches, aching and throbbing at his words. She can feel her arousal slip down her thighs. “Anyone could see us out here, sweetness.” He tuts, tapping the tips of his fingers against her poor bud, her hips buck at the slight friction, and she whines pitifully.

“Or is that what you wanted?”

He cocks his brow. He strokes his fingers along her swollen lips, nails slightly grazing the tender, pink inside, which makes her hips jolt into his touch. Breathing ragged, the meat of her thighs tense from his gentle touches, teasing and fleeting.

“Maybe you wanted someone to see us. You wanted them to watch me make you come with my mouth. Maybe they’ll think about those pretty noises you make while they come. Is that what you wanted?”

He sinks two fingers into her sopping pussy, stretching and filling her, and she cries out at the sudden relief. The burning ache inside her is quelled just a little bit more as he curls his fingers into her little spot. She slips, the rough rocks grating against the skin of her bare back; the pain lingers and heightens her senses, the throbbing pleasure from his movements sinking deep into her bones. He catches her before she can fall, knee still holding her up.

“Yes,” she whines, grinding into him. He sinks to his knees.

“So pretty, babylove,” he praises as he pulls back the hood of her clit. “Such a perfect little peach.” Suckling and nibbling at her swollen bud, her hips buck in time with his lips. He runs the flat of his tongue along the underside of her clit, her taste making his cock stir in his pants. Her walls clench around his fingers, sucking and pulling him deeper inside her. He pulls his lips back, his thumb pressing harshly into her bud, a stark contrast to the warmth from his mouth. He kisses the inside of her trembling thigh.

“Can you take another?”

She nods desperately, her hips grinding against him. He easily slips another finger, and he smiles as more arousal seeps down to his wrist.

“Never taken three, have ya? My good girl, so fuckin’ wet f’me,” he says, pulling at her swollen button with his free hand.

“What else were you thinkin’ ‘bout?”

She struggles to speak, her world still spinning and blurred from her impending orgasm. Her pussy tightens near painfully around his ring-clad fingers.

“Tell me,” he coaxes her, fingers fucking into her at a brutal pace, leaving her breathless and incoherent. She mumbles something through broken whines, her heaving chest stuttering. She can’t even keep her eyes open as she chases her coming high, her wetness squelching between his fingers.

“What was that?”

“Wanna choke on your cock,” she says through ragged moans. He smirks against her thigh.

“You want me to pull your hair back and tell you how much of a good girl you are while you take my cock in your pretty little mouth?”

“Yes, please,” she whines. She can actually feel her mouth water at the thought of shoving his cock deep in her throat with him moaning and claiming her and taking what he wants.

“Come for me, babylove, and then, you can have my cock,” he coos.

Her high takes over her with a burning fire, igniting every vessel in her body with ecstasy, sending waves of tremors and chills through her muscles, until it settles to smoldering embers, leaving her hungry and eager for him. She tugs him into a biting kiss, teeth tugging at his teasing lips. She wants to rip that orange top from him to feel his glistening skin against her, from the hardness of his chest to the soft little pooch that settles around his hips and stomach. She can’t now, but she’ll definitely have to play out that fantasy some other time.

He sits on his bum, the burning sand shifting and settling up around his thick thighs, but he doesn’t take much notice in that as she pushes his thighs apart, eagerly tugging his pants down. There’s a pretty red, nearly purple, hue to the head of his cock, precum slipping from the slit.

The fabric of his pants bunch up tightly underneath his balls, but it offers the perfect amount of pressure whenever his hips buck up. Her tongue traces along her lips, bitten and puffy, her eager eyes taking in everything he has to offer. His cock jumps a little under her gaze.

“Take it, lovie,” he moans.

And take it she does.

She licks the little divot of his balls, wetting the pliable skin before massaging her thumb into him, the way she knows he likes it. His eyes roll back. She presses the head into the soft skin of her cheek, making them puffed and protrude. She sinks further and further down, her wet lips tight and absolutely perfect against him.

“So pretty, baby,” he sighs, eyes fluttering closed as her throat tightens around him. Her teeth just slightly graze the throbbing vein on the bottom part of his shaft, making him twitch.

She grips tightly onto his pleated pants, twisting the thin fabric in little fists as she takes him entirely this time, choking her. Saliva dribbles from her lips to the swell of his balls, and he cups them, spreading the wetness over his sensitive skin. When she lets up, a string trails from her lips to the throbbing head.

“Such a good girl f’me,” he moans, brushing some wetness from her chin. He can feel himself twitch again at the sight of her, lashes clinging together with unshed tears, lips soft and plump and wet—she looks ethereal, absolutely divine. Her breasts are pressed tightly together, shifting slightly with every move of her wrist.

“My best girl.”

She jerks him in quick, wet strokes, the obscene sounds nearly muffled by the crashing waves nearby. A swell of wind brushes through, rustling his hair, and it sends chills down his spine, leaving his thighs quivering.

“Gonna come?” His sweet’s voice is raw and wrecked, and it makes him throb. She breathes sharply through her teeth, wiping her lips crudely with the back of her hand. She lets a thick drop of saliva slip past puckered lips and onto his swollen cock, and his hips jolt up as it trails teasingly down the ridges until it stops in her hand at the base of his cock, nestled tightly against the fine curls. Her other hand teases along the tip, just barely slipping it through her loose fist.

“Please, wanna taste it,” she whimpers, and he swears he could black out. His body is overwhelmed by his racing heart; he can feel it everywhere, from his ears to the tips of his toes, blood rushes through him, heating his skin. She wraps her lips tightly around the head, her cheeks hollowed, and she looks at him with hooded eyes, begging, pleading with him.

Her tongue suckles at that special spot on the underside of the tip that makes him see stars. With trembling hands brushing back the flyaways from her forehead and his face scrunching up, eyes closed, a toe-curling, all-consuming orgasm rushes through him and leaves his hips bucking and skin sticky. She laps at his cum, her pretty, puffy lips still wrapped around him to coax him through his high.

He pulls her up, his hands cupping the back of her neck, and she straddles him, his softening prick lying between them, still twitching slightly. He tugs her lips onto his, molding them together with swollen lips, saliva, and sweetness, twinged with salt and sex. He pulls their lips apart to finally catch his breath, but she continues to press her lips to his tender skin, her comforting kisses bringing him out of his euphoria induced lull.

A cute little purple flower catches the corner of his eye. It’s the only one sprouting beneath a heavy layer of sand, just barely peeking beyond the surface. He picks it.

“A flower for my flower,” he says sweetly, and she takes it, her eyes soft. She looks it over.

“I’m pretty sure this is a weed,” she laughs, rolling the stem between her fingers, and his eyes widen in offence.

“No, it’s a native wildflower.” He tries to defend himself, but she isn’t having it, soft billows of laughter falling from her swollen, wet lips. He pouts. “Fine, then, jus’ take my gift and completely squander it.”

Ever the dramatic one.

She stands up, brushing the sand that accumulated in the folds of her dress.

“Put your cock away. We should head back before everyone gets suspicious,” she says.

“After everything I do for you, you still make me put my own cock away,” he scoffs, teasing smile still curled over his features. He shakes his head.

“Last time I did, you said I was bein’ too rough,” she says, brow cocked and hip jutted. He concedes to her and tucks himself back into his slacks. “C’mon, sugar butt,” she says, pulling him onto his feet. He stumbles, standing more onto the heels of his feet to get used to the heat of the sand. She has the flower tucked behind her ear.

If anyone noticed their beaming smiles or their rumbled clothes or the scratchiness to her voice, they don’t say anything. They don’t say anything then, or when Y/N parts from him with a quick peck on the cheek and a pinch to his bum. They don’t say anything when he gives her even more teasing glances when he’s in front of the camera or when he stops by her after a quick wardrobe change and gives her a deep kiss, followed by a whispered promise of more to come.

—

#such a pretty title for such a dirty fic lol #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #ellie writes #ellie writes fluff #ellie writes smut #gif not mine #credit to owner

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

Text

Safe And Sound? More Like Safe And Bred.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult situations 18+ Smut, Attempted Rape, Breeding kink, swearing, A/B/O and all the posessive bs that goes with it 👍

A/n This was intended to be darker but sort of changed as I was writing? Yeah I'm very happy with it tho considering its my first A/B/O. As always enjoy😘

Clark has been driven wild by an omega's scent.

Safe And Sound? More Like Safe And Bred

There it was again. That fucking scent. Clark groaned and took a deep breath in unconsciously ,smelling it, tasting the air on his tongue, wanting to lap up the delicious scent. It tasted like maple syrup yet smelt completely different fresh and succulent like cool spring air. Young and new. Ripe. He shuddered at the thought. It was driving him wild like no other, normally he could block them out but not this one No,six weeks .Six. Fucking. Weeks he had been teased by it coming into the daily planet.

There was an omega here somewhere, he almost felt jealous of the others weaker senses, they had caught faint whiffs of it asking Perry about it who told them none to polity to 'back off' and that it shouldn't cause a problem due to where they was stationed no one should be able to smell them up here. But Clark did. He had to endure it constantly day in day out. The scent was always worse in the lobby where everyone entered the building. Each morning he came in scanning the people around him looking for a new face, more desperate each day to find the omega.

After enduring the scent for so long he was determined to find the culprit. To find his omega. He swore at that ,they wasn't his, he couldn't allow it.. . He couldn't claim them. Afraid of hurting them, it was true that alphas couldn't bare the thought of hurting an omega, actually against the law to cause any harm emotional or otherwise to an omega. It'd be to easy for him to accidentally harm them, one slip of concentration and that could be it.

So he had resigned himself to never claim one, tho he couldn't help his instincts that screamed for him to find them. To mount and breed them. so he still found himself searching the lobby everyday as he came and went. Sighing as he walked to the elevator not finding them once again disappointment ran through him he shook his head taking one last gulp of air trying to capture the scent he stepped in the elevator.

Just as he went to close the doors he smelt them. He saw her. Other alphas were sniffing around her as she walked past them through the lobby head down watching her feet as she scurried quickly across the space heading for a door that he knew lead to the mail room below she faltered quickly bringing her head up scanning the crowd before catching him looking at her. She gulped as she locked eyes on him then all but flung herself past the door out of sight. The doors closed but he stood frozen. She had seen him.

His chest swelled. His omega had looked at him. She wanted him, her alpha. For a second he stood shocked then quickly threw himself at the buttons smashing the open door button willing it to open and let him go and find her, alas it was to late he was already scaling the building to his floor. He took a breath closing his eyes picturing her She was gorgeous, around average height dark auburn nearly brown hair piled atop her hair in a messy bun she was slim. But not to slim and had and hourglass shape wide hips. Meant for breeding. Fuck. And her eyes a dark hazel freckles dusting her face. He clenched his hand around the briefcase he held, as images of mating her, knotting her took hold he grunted hearing a crunch as the hard plastic handle gave under the pressure.

He swore. No he couldn't risk it risk her. The doors opened revealing the office he panted a few breaths trying to compose himself he walked through the office to his desk dropping into his seat running his palms across his face smoothing his hair back before dropping them by his sides.

Lois approached him warily seeing him tensed and almost flighty. If she didn't know any better she'd have said he was entering a rut, but she wasn't going to suggest that to him. Hell no. Alphas became aggressive if another alpha brought it up. And she definitely didn't want to deal with a triggered alpha in the office. Especially him of all people. However he had let slip a week or so ago that the omega in the building had riled him, that he couldn't block it out like the others.

Fuck. His blood was burning in his veins, his reaction was unlike any other. It was instant and he knew somewhere deep down that he would not be concentrating today.

"Hey Clark you ok there?" he grunted then forced a smile kicking his briefcase under the desk. Out of sight out of mind. was the term that came to mind.

"Yes I'm fine" she didn't look convinced.

"Riiiight and who are you trying to convince me or you? if that omega downstairs is causing you problems you should talk to someone, she shouldn't even be here working if shes unmated" Clark growled at her. Of course Lois was right in a sense. It wasn't law that omegas couldn't work however as a general rule they didn't or if they did it was a part time job close to home and normally along side their alphas. Most were claimed by the time they left college alphas would claim an omega in the first or second heat that happened around 17-20 years old, it was very rare to have an unmated omega in the work force but companies couldn't discriminate. Lois took a step back at the warning, Clark squared his shoulders the thought of his omega leaving agitated him.

"And what would I say? I can scent her from nearly 11 stories up? how would I explain that exactly?" he growled the words through grit teeth not liking where this was going. It took a great amount of control not to flash his eyes at the alpha female in front of him. She backed up unconsciously but continued.

"Well its obviously effecting you, look at yourself ,you've been getting worked up since she got here. If shes your one claim her and get it over with. but don't sit there stewing over it. Do something about it or I will" she snapped back. He could hear what she was really getting at, she was hurt occasionally two alphas could find a way to be together but this didn't happen in there case and she was jealous of the omega and wanted her gone and would make it happen herself if need be. Clark was on his feet in front of her before she could register it bending down getting in her face. And snarled low and dangerous, what ever courage Lois had fled as he glared at her menacingly.

"Don't .You. Ever. Threaten. Her. Again." she shook at the dark look in his eyes stepping back a few steps. frightened. 'as she should be' Clark thought his instincts in over drive feeling as if he had done his omega proud ,scaring off what he precieved as a threat.

"What the hell is going on?" Perry called as he watched a pale Lois take her seat not looking at anyone

"Nothing its dealt with Perry." she said bitterly tho Clark couldn't tell if it was because she had backed off her instincts acknowledging him as a true alpha or if it was that he had defended another woman.

"It better be" he warned eyeing them both before heading to his office Clark sat back down before starting up his computer to begin his work. he stopped after about ten minutes as there was a spike in his omega's scent.. she was going into heat he got up fast, to fast he hoped no one had seen him he looked at the elevator swallowing dryly. Lois raised her head instantly worried forgetting her frustration for a moment more concerned about him.

"C-Clark?" he looked at her and she froze as his pupils grew until there was a slim ring of blue around them. She took a deep breath picking up on the signs. Quickly she got up and went to him. whispering

"Whats going on are you- is she ok?" he tore his eyes from her to the elevator.

"Shes-heat" he swallowed taking a deep breath trying again

"Shes going into heat downstairs, fuck" Lois looked confused

"What but surely she'd know and not come in? it must have caught her off guard-wait what did you do?"

"We- I saw her, she saw me... that couldn't have triggered it could it?" he asked uncertain scanning the other alphas in the room they hadn't noticed, not that he thought they could detect her from here. Lois gaped at him sometimes she forgot that they didn't necessarily teach everything about omegas in all schools, especially to alphas, in traditional communities alphas were just taught about their own anatomy next to nothing about omegas ,hell in some areas where most were betas nothing was taught at all forcing everything to happen naturally on instinct.

"Of course it can! if she isn't on suppressants hell some can't even take them! meeting her alpha could cause an instant heat ,fuck sake, you need to go get her, if she leaves now she could be hurt or worse go I will cover you just go now!" Lois growled at him, the thought of an omega in heat trying to navigate the city alone made her insides churn. He leaned over to retrieve his case but she spun him pushing him to the elevators.

"Leave that I will sort it just go!"

Mean while you was down stairs panicking. You'd found him. Your one true alpha. After years of denying all others waiting out your heats holed up in your apartment praying that you'd find your true alpha and not be caught by another and lose the chance at having your soul mate. You had tried suppressants over the years but they hadn't worked, sometimes when an omegas true alpha was to potent the suppressants didn't work they only muted the the symptoms slightly and ended up not being worth the side effects , nausea ,headaches ,bouts of depression and anxiety then the back pain that was caused by your body trying to counteract the cramps redirecting the spasms.

This was the case for you it wasn't worth it basically exchanging excruciating the internal cramps for crippling back pain, it was dangerous, with cramps you could push through it still move and run if you needed to ,but the back pain made you immobile. You took deep breaths once you reached your office. Sitting down unsteady on your feet.

He was magnificent tall broad dark hair and bright eyes tho at the distance you couldn't define the color, you tried to imagine his face with forest green or a deep azure irises. You gasped feeling yourself heating up. You'd been picking up on his scent since you arrived. It was different. Very strange normally scents had one or two underlying tones his was a mix of many all intertwining in to one deep clean airy scent. You panted cringing as you began to sweat lightly.

Fuck. This wasn't good. You couldn't drop now. Not when you'd seen him. That was probably the cause. You whined taking off you jumper revealing the short sleeved blouse underneath letting the air around you picking up the folder on your desk fanning yourself debating what you should do, you could try to slip out and get home there wasn't to many alpha's here you had done your research before applying there was forty most were on the top floors, but that was still forty alphas that would smell you as you tried to leave and then you'd have to navigate through the city home avoiding all others. you sighed knowing you had to make the decision fast. swearing loudly you picked up the phone calling your manager.

"Hi its y/n in the mailing department.. I'm sorry I have to leave now preferably....I've- my heat has come early and I cant stay-I'm sorry I don't know what to do" you lean over the desk crying softly thinking that you'd just lost the only job anyone had offered you. This was cut short as she replied understanding you, being an alpha with an omega daughter she knew what it was like you huffed in relief as she calmed you down reassuring you that it was fine she instructed you to stay where you was until she called you an uber to be safe and take all the time you needed, you nodded thanking her before hanging up.

Quickly you gathered your things and waited, she phoned back quickly informing you that the uber was outside waiting you just had to tell him the destination and the company was paying for it as this classed as 'emergency travel'. You thanked her again and headed out of the office scaling the stairs to the lobby scuttling out as fast as you could aiming to head home as quick as you could before you got any worse. You felt the stares you noted the few alphas scattered about taking deep drags of air into themselves, drinking in your scent before slowly heading in your direction. You whimpered as you raced through he main doors nearly staggering as you made your way down the road as you flushed hot and needy. Jumping into the uber telling the driver your address as he pulled out into the street. He looked at you threw the rare view mirror.

"You ok back there? you want me to call someone?... your alpha?" he asked innocently enough. You just leaned forward cupping your tummy as the first pulses began in your abdomen muscles twitching beginning the first twinges of pain, you cried out panicked, it was never this fast, a normal heat took at least 24hours to sink in and reach this point.

"No! no no I'm fine just drive!!" he grinned at your response but not that you saw from your almost fetal position in the back, he continued as he pulled off the main road cutting down a residential street as a short cut

"Ok are you sure? is your alpha aware of this? does he hurt you is that why you don't want to call him?" he pried by this point alarm bells would usually start but in your desperate state you didn't click you just shook your head

"no-don't have one just please hurry!!" he grinned doing a u turn at the T junction going left back towards the city. You groaned with your head between your knees crying as the pain came crashing over like waves. Flooding your system then draining away before returning ,gasping deep gulps of air so wrapped up in trying to halt your heat you didn't realize the type of danger you were in.

"H-how much longer?" you didn't register the car stopping he chuckled.

"Not long darling" your eyes snapped open freezing at the tone managing to prop yourself up wincing through the pain as you noticed you'd stopped moving. Dread filled when you saw you were still down town. Even with the traffic you should have been out in the residential area. Your apartment was only a 25 minute walk so should have been about a five to ten minute drive instead you was in the city center all be it parked In some sort of loading bay tucked behind some tall office buildings you didn't recognize. You gulped at the look on his face. Slowly reaching for the handle of the door only for it to be locked. You shivered.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he unclipped his seat belt

"I'm gonna take care of you, a pretty omega like you shouldn't be going through heats alone... You should have an alpha to help you... You will~ just relax this will be over soon" he said before squeezing himself between the front seats making to grab you.

You twisted screaming as loud as you could. Lifting your bag striking him as hard as you could, which wasn't that hard as your energy had been sapped away by your rapid heat. he held you firm digging his fingers into your wrist untill the bag dropped to the footwell, pushing your shoulders against the door you screamed again agonizing

"NOOO HELP SOMEONE HELP ME!" clawing at him scratching his face he swore as your nail scratched across his eye.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he screamed you cowered at his anger he pulled back his hand slapping you hard across the face you grunted as your head smacked into the metal seat belt clip half way up the back seat.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CUNT!" you kneed, twisted ,clawed and bit anything you could think of to get him off of you ,he overpowered you grabbing your head smashing it against the inner door panel, your vision went fuzzy at how hard your head had bounced off of it. weeping weakly kicking out despite all hope of escape was fading fast as the male tore open your blouse buttons scattering across the back seat and foot well.

"NOO NONO PLEASE!"you sobbed as you resigned yourself to being another statistic. Then the door behind your head was ripped clean off you car you yelped cringing as you heard the metal twist and tear just beside your head tumbling out of the car, being caught before touching the asphalt and sat on the roof of the car so quick it made you dizzy before you could even glance at who had saved you. You heard the screams of your would be rapist shouting panicked as he was dragged violently out of the car.

Crying you moved to cover yourself tugging the shirt around yourself looking forward you saw superman clutching the alphas neck hoisting up to his eye level eyes flashing a dangerous red, hinting to the power simmering just below the surface shoulders heaving with every breath and his jaw clenched boiling anger was written across his stance. The alpha pleaded with him. The kryptonian glanced at you before snarling in the other alphas face low and terrifying. you held your breath something was wrong.

"MINE!" was all the man of steel managed as he panted heavy , you saw the tremble in his arm as he tried holding back but still squeezed tighter on the throat he held causing the alpha to gasp and wheeze begging pleading much like you had been not two minutes ago. You gasped not entirely sure you heard him correctly but you was sure that you didn't want to be around either of them in this state.

You placed your hands on the metal below you sliding backwards making the decision to leave your bag that stuff could be replaced. Keeping both of them in your sight, gasping quietly as you dropped to your feet , buckling as another cramp clutched a your insides. You had to move get away you couldn't let either male near you, not when you'd just found your mate, when you was so close.

In your state of panic you forgot one of the most important things every omega should know. If your caught by an alpha in the middle of a heat Do. Not. Run an alpha that wants to pursue you, will chase, they relished in it the hunt. That's why there is so much emphasis on mateing young, once you are claimed alphas are less drawn to you and your heat cant do this whole surprise pop up act. Those who tried to hold out for their mates are usually picked off before their thirties, claimed forcefully and trapped in a unhappy pairings you never thought it'd be you.

You moved slow at first backing away from the car then as you made your way further from them once you got a good twenty feet you turned and ran down a small one way road leading in the direction of home. You hoped. Your footsteps caught Superman's attention snapping his head up dropping the male

"NOO! COME BACK!" he shouted making you more frightened speeding up, he sounded angry. He shot up instantly hovered above the small building before spying you diving down landing in front of you as you as you had reached a main street onlookers stopped as they saw him land hard on the ground, he crouched the asphalt below him cracking under the force he'd used. You skidded to a stop nearly running into him you screamed backing up as he moved to grab you his eyes. They were burning literally glowing seconds away from igniting your flesh.

"I-I No please I don't-" you tried speaking cutting yourself off as another cramp took hold you cried out curling grasping your stomach. He took the opportunity to quickly scoop you up taking off so fast the air was sucked from your lungs you couldnt breath instead puffing out desperate tiny breaths. He headed straight for home. You groaned weakly at him trying desperatly to breath, tapping him as you managed sharp breaths when you could smelling him, he smelt familiar and unique almost like your mate but not quite the same.

Before you knew it you was in an unfamilliar apartment gasping deep breaths trying to ease your burning lungs. Whimpering as a wave after wave of your mates scent hit you causing your body the begin preparing itself for him as you soaked your panties through at an alarming rate. You was deposited on a large bed confused uncomfortably wet and in pain as you curled on your side in the covers pressing your face into the cotton taking deep breaths. You heard footsteps leave your side moving around beyond the door.

He was building you a nest in his den, he was here helping you, you crawled towards him as he smoothed out the blanket to curl around you grabbing him trying to pull him up onto the bed with you. You whimpered as he pulled back standing to look at the nest wanting it to be perfect. In your heat addled mind you took it as a rejection when he moved out of your grasp.

"A-Alpha?" you called out looking for him, he was here he had to be here you needed him, this was his den, but where was he. You looked around trying to find him. Then you hear Superman return, well you thought it was Superman maybe you was so far gone you'd been hallucinating, you was sure the man of steel had brought you here, but it wasn't him who returned you looked at the door ecstatic as you spied your mate with arms full of pillows and a few blankets mumbling to himself about a nest, felt a burst of excitement as he placed the cushions and blankets around you.

"I-its ok, I'm here, I've found you omega, mine ,my omega" you looked up at the male before you tucking your nose into the crook of his neck breathing deep wanting to take him in as much as you could it was him. Yes. You've made it. you cried happy tears streaming down your face as you finally had him, Your one. Your soul mate. Years spent searching hoping, terrified that he'd given up hope and claimed another. But the years of loneliness and fear was worth it for this one moment.

"N-no! alpha come back" your voice was small but sincere, he quickly saw his mistake and climbed up with you letting you grab and pull at him.

"Wh-how? you was-" he climbed over you cageing you nuzzling your neck doing the same to you that you had done to him only he was not crying, he was growling deep in his chest, that you had only just noticed was uncovered he was bare as the day he was born.

"Later...Cant" he mumbled kissing at your neck quickly licking and nipping succumbing to his need to bury himself inside of you as soon as possible. You whined as he pulled the blankets around you creating a tighter cocoon. His instincts were all over the place wanting to mount and knot you and calm and cuddle you . It was hard for him to concentrate as he smelt your body prepare for him. Turning you looked at him your lips parted as you huffed becoming impossibly hot ,sweat forming on your brow your clothes constricting and sticky as you lifted a shaky hand to his cheek.

"Blue... I didn't see them earlier, there beautiful." he almost purred closing his eyes as you ran your hand up to his curled hair. His nostrils flaring ducking down to you kissing you groaning at the taste of your tongue he moved over you, desperate pressing you into the matress holding your waist sliding you up the bed wrestling with your clothes growling before opting to rip them of not patient enough to remove them with out damaging them. You whined at him making him stop inspecting you for injury , when he determined you was unharmed just vocal he continued moving down your body kissing and suckling marks onto you wanting to devour your slick as he smelt how wet you had become for him.

He tossed your legs over his shoulders breathing deep closing his eyes collecting him self 'slow and steady don't hurt her' he thought to himself then leaned forward sucking obscenely on your wet folds dipping his tongue between them. you screamed as he met your hot sensitive skin groaning into you gripping your hips forcing you to remain still and endure him as he worked on finding you bud then flicking quickly up and down then rolling it around sucking it between his teeth applying a gentle pressure.

You cried and shouted as he continued he looked up at you watching you try to twist and turn your breasts bouncing with every jerky movement and heaving breath. He groaned again imagining just how perfect they would look tight and full ready to feed his pups. He pulled back with long licks from back to front collecting as much slick as he could as he went. You panted teary eyed as he crawled above you. He grunted eyeing your neck then maintained eye contact snarling when you didn't immediately look away.

Your pussy wept below you at the sight. He was posturing. Waiting for you to present to him, for you to acknowledge him as your alpha. You tilted your head looking away eagerly willing your body to relax below him he keened low running his nose across your throat then latching onto it biting locking his jaw tightly, not enough for the final bite but he held you there tonguing your neck releasing then moving down biting repeating the same process searching for the least sensitive spot to deliver his bite.

Once he found a spot that didn't cause a large reaction or was on the artery he sucked a dark mark , pinpointing it for later once he was satisfied he released your neck with a parting kiss many would look for the most sensitive but he was worried about truly harming you.

He grabbed your shoulder rolling you on your front heaving up your hips presenting you to him your shoulders landing on the extra pillows and blankets he got for you taking your weight. He gasped leaning back to take a moment to calm himself, he would not risk killing you accidentally because he rushed, admittedly he was also enjoying the view, way your scent permeated the air leaving him feeling hazy almost drunk. You mewled lost in your heat impatient for him to claim you in the most sinful and depraved of ways. You rocked to and fro clenching your pussy for him then spread your knees so he could see. You heard him grunt then decided to push further.

"AAHH! FUCK" you yelped as he stretched you taught around him the resistance you put up against him was intoxicating as he moved steady not letting up as he was pushing deeper and deeper feeding himself into you. You tried to raise onto your hands but a swift hand caught you by the scruff pressing down with a snarl.

As ready as your slick had made you, you was still smaller than him he noted as he was poised at your opening, twitching and puffy from his earlier exploration, he could feel the heat radiating form you. As you tried to rock back feeing his cock just there he pulled you back onto him.

"No you will stay In position presenting" he grunted you whimpered in response as he held you there firm. Finally he grunted low quickly thrusting the last inch or so into you thighs pressed against your bottom tensing. You panted clawing at the pillows surrounding you is was nearly to much as he held still flexing making you jump and flutter around him.

"P-pleeeas alpha I cant wait please" your words were pitiful and breathy arching your back pushing your ass high and curling your toes. His breathing hitched un able to hold back he rose to his knees digging his tumbs into the back of your pelvis gripping tight designed to hold you still, to force you to take all of him weather you wanted to or not. You'd forfited that choice with your presented to him earlier. You was his and he wanted you to know that ,slowly falling prey to his most basic of primal needs. Mount. Fuck. Knot. Breed. There was no thoughts beyond these four goals. He held steady nudging your opening with his cock, hard and only just beading with precum, he had fought to hold back his need for release refuseing to waste a drop, but now it seemed he may need it.

"Good girl....soo good ... your such a good omega.....are you ready to be bred?" tears fell at the feeling of being so stuffed, you wasn't sure just how you were going to take his knot if this was him before that, it was uncomfortable pressed so deep it was bordering pain, a dull ache but your cramps were gone as if his skin alone had soothed your insides and that you was thankful for.

"ugh such a good female.... gonna fuck you full" he tilted his head back abdomen quivering and twitching with need he was trying to hold back, be gentle he had heard the whimpers as he opened you up for the first time, noting that you wasn't a virgin, tho many omegas now day's had toy's to replicate alpha couplings. He snarled pulling back a little then rocking into you the idea of anything other than himself inside you irked him, no more. He would dispose of yours at the first opportunity. You'd never resort to using a toy again. A rubber substitute, no he wouldn't allow it. You would come to him for relief or you'd suffer. Those were your options now.

"YES... fuck yes THATS IT...I'm your alpha now...no one else.... I'll kill them" he grunted teasing you with his cock you screeched as he growled and grunted using his hands to hold you still as he drove into you over and over, pulling out further each time, you was floating or was it drowning you couldn't tell, all you knew was that you hated the way you felt empty as he left you, your pussy was clamping and pulling at him, fighting to keep him sheathed inside you. You groaned cried and squealed unable to stop as his moans egged you on.

"aH! FUCKfuckfuck alPHAAA!" you shook your head rubbing your face into his heady scent your head swimming in it as it seeped through the blankets. You tried to fight his hold as he teased you with shallow thrusts making your pussy protest resulting in a loud sharp spank and you widened your legs for him.

"You ok baby?" he asked as you shook beneath him gasping, trying to calm your breathing you tried to turn to look at him hissing as it pulled on his knot

You cried panicked trying to wiggle from under him desperate to escape the painful stretch he quickly acted on auto pilot latching onto the mark he left on your neck biting breaking the skin, holding you still with a growl as he claimed you with his scent permanently. You cried tensing not sure if the pain was to much or not enough. He finallly released your neck tucking a hand below where you joined rubbing your hard bud forcing you to clench painfully around the knot that was cruley holding you in place spreading your lips apart revealing your clit to his wandering fingers as you was warpped tight around him ,you tried to drag yourself forward off of him tugging at your joining to no avail he was slow and frim with his teasing finger tips.

Quickly you found your abdoman spasming and you screeched as he tore your second orgasm from you, this time as you squirted nothing left you hitting his knot and returning back up into you the force of it sending ripples of pleasure against all of your nerves your walls massaged him from root to tip as a result making him finally release into you feeling him pulse and twitch as his hot load hit you hard and deep some had definatly make it past your cervix you summarised the only coherent through in the lusty haze that was now slowly lifting from you, he held still as he continued to pour into you, the overwhelming urge to breed you was to much as he rocked once ,twice slowly using his knot the amplify the pleasure.

You whimpered staying as still as you could panting completly washed out and wrecked. He looked down smug not taking his eyes of of where you were joined his knot was large, he was impressed at how well you took him. A slight panic, he'll admit but you had stayed still enough for him to fully mate you And nothing was escaping which boded well for breeding.

"Ah ah ah stay still... that's it stay still... good girl" he reassured knowing full well that you could be like this for a few more minutes maybe ten minutes or so, for him specifically he wasnt sure. Selfishly he wanted to remain there as long as possible but thought it'd be better for you if he wasnt attached to long.

"yes ...that's it omega open up for me... let me in" he chuckled slamming into you making your bones rattle keening with the force as he did it over again becoming desperate to bury himself inside deeper. You cried out as he dragged his hand from your neck leaning over you as he plowed you into an orgasm. You let out what was at first a silent scream as you clamped around him making him hiss you leaked over him cumming drenching his thighs with slick as he grunted holding still tightly pressing into you his knot forming in an instant stretching you until you yelped in pain trying to break free. No. It hurt. As he was pressing painfully deep almost pressing into your cervix opening.

"Are you ok? we could be like this for a while baby.. you have enough pillows"

"It's sore" you mumbled quietly unable to stop pulling forward it was only natural to try and avoid the pain he felt guilty but knew it was unavoidable.

"I know baby but your doing so well... soo good and just think with any luck we will have pups on the way! doesnt that sound nice baby. You can make a better nest, more suitable for pups." you clenched at his words the idea of pups making you perk up

"Pups?" you asked excited he laughed rubbing your back soothingly noticing how hot you was.

"Oh yes I'm going to breed you during this heat, that is if I haven't took root already" he said rolling his hip lightly making his point you groan again. He noted the sweat rolling down your sides. Debating on what to do, he knew he could help easily but was a little apprehensive. Finally he decided he would do it, your his mate now, bound to him permanently.

"Baby? are you hot?" you nodded

"Yeah and sticky..... I want a cold shower... can I have one when I'm free?" he frowned that would mean you standing up.... he would leak from you.... No. He shook his head

"No you may not, you will lie on your back once free.. I want you full." he said you pouted a little feeling scolded whimpering before you flinched as he blew a cool gust of air onto you. It was cold... Much colder than should have been possible.. And it wasn't to do with how heated your skin was. Clark continued blowing cooling your skin until it was no longer red. He felt himself finally softening once he was sure he could remove himself without any pulling he did sliding back quickly flipping you to your back pulling the pillows below your waist . You laid back wide eyed.. It took him seconds.. Literally seconds to pull out and re-position you... He moved you one handed...WHAT THE FUCK? you squeaked

"Wh-how did you do that? you really are? but your scent i-it was different you wasn't!" you were so confused. He looked down guilty stroking you slowly unable to keep for touching you now that you were bpnded ,he loved how you carried his scent, it was lingering just beneath yours coiling around it.

"I'm sorry, my suit it....changes my scent... I'm not sure why, it may be because its not made here on earth... " you paled as he explained you knew. Your mate was superman. The man of steel. You gasped bringing your hands to your face as you cried

"YOUR AN ASS! do you know how FUCKING SCARED I WAS!" you shouted moving to get up. He was faster pinning you down pushing into your neck.

"I thought you was going to burn me! Kill me!" You wailed into your palms.

"sshh sshh its ok now.. I'm sorry ...I'm so sorry I never intended to scare you, I was just scared...I tried to follow you but you already left....... Then I went looking for you ..... I heard screaming not want sure if it was you, I was so glad as I got closer and smelt you then I saw him..I had intended to just take you home..But seeing you there I knew I had no choice...I had to claim you to keep you safe... I was so close to killing him, I wanted to...You stopped me, if you hadnt run I would have ripped him limb from limb... All I knew in that moment was that I couldnt bare seeing you run from me.. I had to catch you." you settled down as he kissed your mark explaining between small pecks and licks then laid curling at you side. Pulling your hands away.

"I-if I'd known it was you I wouldnt have run from you I would have run to you" you explaind cupping his face lightly he leaned forward kissing him.

"But I cant call you superman or alpha all the time" you smirked he chuckled sliding higher around you leaning over you on his elbow.

"Clark kent" he offered with a kiss

"y/n y/l/n" he smiled before kissing deeply again you were interupted by a loud bannging form somwhere deeper in the apart ment he held out a hand

"Stay I want to give us the best chance for pups" he called out as he grabbed some boxers sliding them up as he walked to the front door opeing it revealing Lois holding out his damaged breifcase she scrunched her nose as the heady smell of there coupling hit her.

"Here I Covered for you, Perry thinks this morning was because your omega was going into heat and you didnt touch her and I told you to leave and 'be an alpha for once' in the end you took my advice and mated her... you have the week off for her heat." she explained then cleared her throat nodding behind him he growled when he spotted you up by the door peeping he pointed back to where you came growling.

"Back in your nest!" you scuttled back into the room with a squeak diving back into your nest of blankets. Placing your hips back on the raised pillows. Lois giggled.

"Don't be too hard on her she probably heard me and panicked... any way I'm off and try to be gentle with her she looks ....small" he nodded closing the door as she turned to leave. He padded into the bedroom spoting you tugging the blankets around you adjusting then readjusting them pouting. He smiled tugging it from you smoothing it around your hips.

"That was lois.. Shes and alpha and a friend nothing to worry about.." you nodded to him as he tucked himself around you again making you rest your head on his chest as he reached down cupping your tummy running his thumb acros the skin below your belly button

"Sleep baby it wont long before I'll mount you again" you blushed at his words but tried to relax anyway letting your mind drift as he wandering fingers pushed you into a deep satisfied slumber.

Taglist @havenoffandoms

#superman smut #superman x reader #superman x you #alpha superman #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader #superman mate #alpha clark kent #superman imagine #clark kent imagine

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cajunquandary · 4 years ago

Text

Hands that Heal

Link: (coming soon to Ao3)

Summary: Sometimes all you need is a little push the right direction...

Created for: @negans-lucille-tblr SPN Secret Santa Fic Exchange

Rating: 18+ only

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Jay)

Warnings: Jealous Dean, fluff, smut, smidge of angst, medical IV (briefly), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy)

Wordcount: 3.8k

A/N: Happy Holidays, @jay-and-dean! I was so ecstatic to have received your name and hope that my ramblings make you smile a little.

It’s a funny thing, the way everyone goes on about the eyes being windows to the soul. Of course, they can be very telling, and if you ever catch yourself getting lost in those of the Winchesters, how could you believe anything else? Or perhaps you are more like Jay.

Jay has been with the Winchesters for quite some time. She’s been lost in those eyes. And she’s been found. The pure green folds of Dean’s have scooped her up, swaddled her, saved her. So have Sam’s hazel, but not in quite the same way. Not that either brother knows. Only Cas.

Cas has seen the way her deep brown eyes linger just a little longer than they ought to, can feel the ache in her chest. There are times when Jay meets the angel’s gaze just afterwards but looks away just as quickly. They both know, but they won’t talk about it. And that’s okay.

But for Jay, she can see beyond the green. Beyond the freckles and blushing pensive lips, the curve of his jaw, the gently rolling hills of his chest and arms. She traces the majestic waves and ripples beneath his warm skin with only her eyes and her heart. They come to rest just past strong wrists and fall like weighted feathers upon Dean’s weathered hands.

You see, that’s where the soul really reveals itself closest to visible flesh. Each scar and busted knuckle tell a story. The pattern of freckles and tan lines speak of years in the sun. The calluses of his palm and fingertips disclose a rough life, a tough job. They are toned with skill, accurate in all things. They can field strip a gun and put it back together in the blink of an eye, tie complicated knots with dexterity, bait a hook and cast a line without hesitation, and even mold and create custom parts for Baby as they fix her up.

And yet, the skin between those marks is soft, no longer as elastic as it once was, but still full of life and love. The very muscles that hold together the bone and sinew have the capacity to both take life, and give it. Jay has watched them rip apart monsters and gently caress and hold victims within the same minute.

Such an extreme duality shouldn’t be so neatly wrapped up in one man, but it was. It was both Dean’s light and his curse. Jay shivered as she hesitated just a moment too long on the fantasy of those thick muscled, deadly, yet oh-so-gentle hands, imagining how they might tickle as they might glide over her smooth skin. Of course, Dean notices.

“There’s no way you’re cold, Jay. It’s a hundred friggin degrees outside!”

Right. Jay had to remind herself that they were on a case. No distractions. “Yeah, I-I’m good. Just got a chill because, ya know, we’re next to human refrigerators.” She swallowed hard and clenched her teeth to help ground herself back to reality.

It really was hotter than a witch’s tit out there and not much cooler inside the mortuary. Dean continued to read silently from some forms on the coroner’s clipboard before licking his thumb and index finger to turn the page. Heat washed over Jay, spreading like drunken honey from her scalp all the way to her toes. She tried to steady her breathing, remain in persona as a stoney FBI agent, but the hot red of her cheeks was giving her away.

She tore her gaze away to inspect the body. Not that anything she made mental note of would stick at this point. Dean cleared his throat and pulled the clipboard closer to his face before setting his thumbnail between his teeth the way he always did when he was laser-focused on something. She only caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, but it was the final bit to break her.

With a huff, Jay exclaimed a little too loudly, “There’s nothing here for us, Dean. I’ll be in the car.” Her legs carried her much too quickly out the swinging doors and up the stairs.

“Um, okay?” Dean grumbled to himself before setting the paperwork back in its place and following Jay. “What the hell got into her?”

Jay was glad to leave Texas. Mid-July heat drained her, along with every plant and tree scorched under the unrelenting and searing white sun. The world around them was bleached and bathed in the almost-eerie too-bright light. Well, everything except what existed in the shadows of the Impala. The sparse countryside rolled away mile by mile as time ticked by with every song on Dean’s favorite cassette.

The air conditioning just couldn’t keep up, so Dean rolled down the windows. Jay tied up her locks in frustration, leaving a messy excuse for a bun resting on top of her head. The leather seats did nothing to help as she sweat through her shorts until she was nearly sliding off the seat.

“How much longer until Oklahoma?” She sighed. For the third time that hour.

Dean shot a glare in her direction before settling his attention back on the highway. The heat was getting to him too, and even with sunglasses on, spots were gathering in his vision and impairing him with every piercing flash of the sun off of the windshields of passing cars. “Jay, I swear if you ask me ‘are we there yet’ one more time, I’m going to friggin pull over.”

“Ugh, FINE.” Jay wished to be nearly anywhere but here. Resignation set in and she slumped in the seat and let her bare feet hang out the window, crossing her arms.

Dean turned the music louder, trying to drown out his own misery rather than her. He began to belt out slightly off-key to “Dazed and Confused.”

Jay cracked a half smile but hid it from Dean.

He rapped out the solos on the steering wheel, his hands keeping perfect time as they danced upon the taught leather.

Maybe pulling over wouldn’t be a half-bad idea, Jay thought.

She closed her eyes, allowing the steady rumble of the engine to echo through her as hot wind whipped through the cab. She cracked them open again just long enough to witness the stretch of tight skin over Dean’s knuckles, the way the washed out wilderness blurred past behind them and accentuated the tan he’d gained from driving.

The image was burned into her mind. To help pass the time, Jay granted herself permission to linger on it, explore it. Despite the heat outside, a new, different heat grew steadily in her core, stirring somewhere deep between her heart and soul.

Not too long after, the Impala slowed and turned into a run down gas station--the first one in an hour. As Dean filled up, Jay took the opportunity to find shelter in some air conditioning and hopefully an ice-cold drink. Inside the store was no better. In fact, it was worse. The air was still and thick with humidity from the cooler, which buzzed and whirred as if it were possessed.

“Sorry, Miss. Cooler is out. Hot drinks only,” a disheveled and sweat-drenched employee slouched over the register.

“Thanks… got any pie?” Jay decided that if they had to drink hot water, they may as well have some comfort food.

“Whatever we got is over there.” The clerk motioned with his eyes, no strength to even lift a finger.

Jay stalked back to the car empty handed and more pissed than ever. If the summer heat was something tangible, she could just strangle it. Kick it, punch it. Anything to fight it.

Dean finished up just in time, careful not to touch the scorching black paint and chrome on the car. “What, you go pee and come out with nothing? I’m dyin’ here!”

Jay snapped. “NO DRINKS. NO PIE. NOTHING. K?!”

Dean was taken aback by the outburst. It was then he noticed the sunken look and dark circles under her eyes and the red sheen over her face and neck. She was getting pale and wasn’t sweating anymore.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” His brows knit as he drove slowly through the town, hoping for a decent motel to rest at for a while. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait but a few blocks before The Moonlight Motel came into view.

Pay by the hour may not be the greatest, but at least it was cheap and would likely be empty this time of day.

Jay was losing touch and the following events were a blur. The next thing she truly could grasp and remember was lying mostly clothed in a cold shower. Dean sat facing her atop the closed toilet seat, a worried face perched upon clasped hands. Still a bit out of it, Jay relaxed into the cool water as it slowly washed the fever down the drain. The world slipped away, replaced by a gentle, dark nothing.

When Jay stirred, the room was too dim to still be day and shadows were held at bay by only a small lamp on the far side of the dingy room. She couldn’t remember how she got there at first, but as she woke, things gradually came back to her.

Dean had practically carried her to the room. He’d carefully set her in the bathtub and removed her belt, overshirt and boots. He’d turned on the cold water and at first, she’d protested, but slipped in and out of consciousness. He’d retrieved ice from the machine down the hall and poured it over her as he constantly monitored her vitals and temperature.

He’d withdrawn her, a soaking wet dead weight, stripped away the sopping clothes while careful not to look where it would make her uncomfortable, and buttoned her up in the softest flannel he had.

Jay glanced down at her right hand, as it felt stiff and sore. A needle was taped there, no longer hooked to the empty bag of saline, taped down and left in place just in case. Jay wiggled slightly when she realized that her other arm had gone quite numb beneath her and--Dean?

His soft snores disrupted as she shifted, equally mortified and elated to be nestled into the crook of his arm. Dean woke and rubbed his eyes, as if pretending he’d been awake the whole time. His voice was low and gravely from sleep.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He looked down at her, so small in his arms, furious with himself for not taking better care of her.

“M-good,” Jay choked out, completely entranced by being so close to the hunter. Close enough for their breath to mix and his cologne to shroud her senses. Close enough to see the flecks of golds and blues and dark greens in the folds of his irises. Her breath caught and she shivered. Again. Jay mentally kicked herself for that tell. “Thank you… Sorry I was being a brat.”

“No. No, this is on me. You were sun-sick. I’m sorry. I should’ve--”

Jay put a finger to his parted lips with only the intention to stop Dean from blaming himself (like always,) but the touch sent electric pulses through her fingertips and set fire to every nerve in her body. They were impossibly soft and warm.

Dean caught her hand tenderly in his before she could pull away and planted a slow kiss on her knuckles. He watched anxiously as her pupils dilated and her breathing became more shallow. Pulling their hands out of the way, Dean leaned forward just slightly and planted a firm, reassuring kiss to her forehead.

Jay’s mind was a mess. This was more than familial. Were they crossing a line? Or maybe it just meant that Dean was comfortable with her, and concerned. But even as the thoughts swirled, her lips had a mind of their own. As Dean traced his nose down hers until their heads were pressed together, Jay angled upward to meet him.

When their lips locked, there was no more question. Jay loved Dean, and he knew and he loved her back. It was soft and sweet, with their eyes shut tight, just exploring and tasting and sucking gently.

The remainder of the trip back to the bunker was spent with Dean humming, a stupid smile plastered on his face, and Jay resting across the front seat, her head in his lap. Dean stroked her soft, brown hair adoringly. The night was much cooler and comfortably dark with only dim, scattered stars to blanket the hunters.

Everything was different after the motel. The kiss.

Almost six months had gone by and for the most part, they’d been wonderful. Jay spent more time in Dean’s room than her own, and the hunts had been good so far, like old times.

Until this one.

Jay, Sam, and Dean were doing a bit of recon at a local bar to dig up some answers, or at the very least, a lead. Jay had dressed to stun, as usual. (After all, men’s lips tended to be a bit more loose around a pretty girl.)

Dean was hovering. Everytime Jay got close to some useful information, Dean would scare off the burly locals with a death glare.

Until this one.

This man was built like a tank. He towered even over Sam by a few inches and dwarfed Jay in comparison. Sam eyed her uncomfortably from a few tables over, but he always got like that when someone was bigger than him. Dean didn’t adjust his tactics at all, and when the big guy had enough of Dean dancing around him and bumping his chair with an insincere, “sorry, man,” the guy stood up and puffed out his chest. Dean moved to both protect Jay and get in a prime fighting position, but Jay yanked him away by the collar of his jacket faster than he could complain.

She didn’t stop until they were completely outside the bar, then shoved him into the soot-covered brick wall. Dean opened his mouth to spout something pigheaded, but stopped himself as he felt the chill of her glare more than the chill of the snow flurries swirling around them.

“Would you just trust me to do my job? What is your problem?”

“I do! I just--” Dean waved in a flustered motion, unable to find the words. All he knew was that when she got a little too... comfortable... with anyone, he saw red.

Still, Jay seemed to understand. She reached up and held his face firmly between her palms, forcing him to maintain eye contact.

“I’m yours. I know that you worry, what you fear. I’m not going to leave you. Ever. No one can ever take me from you, either, because I’ll haunt your ass and you know it.”

Dean’s bottom lips quivered just barely, and he quickly bit it back. “Don’t you even joke about that,” his voice broke.

“De- I’m right here, okay?”

He nodded and leaned into her until his face was buried in her neck. He squeezed his arms around her, never wanting to know what it would feel like to have to let go.

A muffled “let’s go back to the motel” emanated from somewhere within Jay’s scarf and she nodded in response.

Dean grasped her hand as they walked the short distance back to the rented room. Jay stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and pointing over to the edge of the woods. A startled “Dean!” escaped her, and Dean dropped her hand and withdrew his gun, ready for a fight. His plumes of hot breath on the air slowed to nearly nothing as he steadied himself and visually searched the area.

What had she seen?

Before he could ask, something hard, round and icey struck the back of his shoulder with decent force. He spun on his heels and lowered his weapon to find Jay wide-mouthed and laughing, another snowball forming in her hands.

“Son of a bitch! You want to play dirty, huh?” Dean howled. He holstered the pistol and raced to close the distance between them. With a squeal and a grunt, the two ended up in a heap in the wet, mushy snow.

Jay managed to end up on top of him and leaned in for a deep kiss. She could feel the smile on his lips as his tongue graced across hers. When at last they came up for air, Dean was moving his arms and legs haphazardly.

“A slush-angel?” Jay giggled at the sorry creation.

“What, my art not good enough for you?” Dean retorted while wearing a shit-eating grin. “And no, actually, it’s a Yeti.”

The wet chill began to sink into their bones, so they hurried onward. Dean fiddled with the key card but the lock gave him fits.

“C’mon, Dean! I’m freezing to death!”

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Hold your horses.”

At last, the door swung open and Jay rushed inside, leaving Dean to close and lock the door behind them. She’d already started stripping off the wet outer layers when Dean approached. With every step bringing him closer, his heartbeat rose and he wrestled out of his own layers.

Jay moved to lift off her shirt, but Dean covered her hands with his, intertwining their fingers. He stood against her, and in one swift move, wrapped both of her wrists in a single firm grip behind her, and with the other, pressed an open palm against her belly.

Jay gasped, her knees going weak with what she knew was coming next. Despite the weather, his touch was toasty. Coarse skin slid over her soft flesh, causing a friction that left Jay needing more. Heat flushed her cheeks and pooled deep in her stomach. Dean melted with every shuttered breath of hers as he stroked up and down beneath the fabric of her shirt, making sure to linger over the more sensitive areas as she twitched and bit down on her lip.

Dean massaged her breasts with skilled fingers for a few moments, but a sensual twist of her nipple sent Jay reeling backwards, supported only by Dean’s other arm. With her head tilted back, Dean took the opportunity to kiss and suck and nip zig-zagged lines over the most delicate parts of her neck and along her collarbone.

Jay squirmed and panted with lust-blown pupils and a cry just on the tip of her tongue. Dean’s grasp only steadied her against him more until he found himself grinding into her, faint moans already filling the air. The growing bulge in his pants drove Jay mad. She wanted to be covered by him, skin on skin, needed him inside her.

“D-Dean please, please…” Jay whimpered and attempted to wiggle out of his hold once more to no avail.

“Please, what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” Dean breathed against her ear, just above a whisper. He sucked and nibbled in the hollow behind it.

A shudder wracked Jay, but this time, she didn’t mind the tell. She had him. He was hers. But right then, she needed more and she knew he was holding back. “Unnghh, please… need you, now,” she managed.

“Okay, Baby,” Dean crashed his lips to hers and shifted until Jay was suspended in the air and straddling him as he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her playfully and they scrambled to see who could lose their remaining clothes the fastest.

In a fray of scattered clothing, Dean climbed on top of her, comfortably crushing Jay into the lumpy mattress. He let his full weight rest upon her.

“Stop it,” she giggled as his scruff tickled her cheek.

“Why don’t you make me?” Dean grinned between planting kisses everywhere he could reach.

Before he could react, Jay had him rolled onto the floor. She straddled him and tried to concentrate despite his hard cock resting perfectly between her hot, dripping folds. Her hair created a curtain around their faces, blocking out everything but that moment and the sensations it was riddled with. Dean’s eyes closed and mouth opened like a fish out of water. His breaths were shallow and shaky. Jay fought the urge to lift her hips just so, knowing that if she did, and she came back down upon him, his throbbing dick would line up just perfectly… and they’d end up on the floor for the remainder of their romp.

She rose to her feet, grasping his hand and pulling him up with her. Dean’s eyes were full of question, longing. His cheeks were flushed and hot to the touch. He was melting at every touch and could do nothing about it but wait for her.

Jay led him over to the chair and pushed him into it. He nearly tripped on his way down. That stupid smile she loved so much spread across his face again as he dug his fingers into her hips and pulled her onto him. She let out a yelp as the broad head of his large cock spread her entrance, dripping with precum, and buried itself deep inside until her walls stretched almost uncomfortably. The shock of his size was something she’d never get used to. Each time was like the first, the same butterflies swarming in her stomach, the same jolts of pure lust burning through her veins.

Dean gasped and held her close to him, trembling hands roaming her back and squeezing her ass. Jay carded her hands through his hair and pulled just slightly at the nape of his neck as he whined in approval. Those laments made her head swim and her limbs weak. Drunk on Dean, she adjusted her position until he was sunk deep into the spot that was just right, then began to move back and forth, slow and steady. Dean’s breaths stuttered and his head fell back, leaving his neck open for Jay to take into her mouth.

“Fuck--Baby you feel s-so good,” he stammered between increasing moans and grunts. She could see in his eyes that he was losing control.

Jay cried out as he began to fight her movements with his own, pounding up in all the right spots. She arched her back as the coil wound tighter… higher… tighter… higher... until she shattered in his arms, his name and curses spilling from her gaping mouth.

He held her through it and chased his own orgasm, sucking a mark onto her chest before he spilled into her. Everyone would know she was his, and only his. Her walls clenched in waves and he pulsed within them, his delicious sounds filling her ears as she came down.

Jay crashed her lips into his, and he returned with fervor until they were both completely breathless. Wrapped there in Dean’s arms, Jay was home.

No, nothing was ever the same after that first kiss. And that was okay. It was amazing.

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @taste-of-dean @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie @thinkinghardhardlythinking

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

@waywardbaby* the smut was heavily inspired by The Scene. Tagged as promised lol

Tag List now open!

#spnsecretsantaficexchange #hands that heal #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x ofc #dean x jay #fluff #smut #supernatural

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fugitive-96 · 4 years ago

Text

The Witching Hour (A TG/TF story)

"Okay we all ready for this?" Trish asked.

"As ready as we'll ever be." Blake replied.

"Ted, start the tape." Trish said.

Ted walked over to the table with the tape recorder and hit record.

"You ready Angela?" Trish said over to Angela who was sitting on the floor in front of a Ouija board opposite Henry.

"The time is 03:00 AM, Halloween night 1989. We are standing in the basement of the long abandoned Hall House where we are about to attempt contact with the astral plane." Trish spoke into her small recorder.

The four friends had long been shunned in school for being interested in the supernatural, more specifically their beliefs in things like psychic powers, various forms of spirits, and other creatures from urban legends.

The group of friends was made up of two boys and two girls. Blake who was currently standing by with a camera was tall with slicked back black hair and a set of thin spectacles and was dressed in a poorly made Frankenstein Monster's costume, albeit he'd removed the makeup. The second boy was Ted who was operating the various equipment such as the speakers and the large tape recorder sitting on the table who was average height with slightly long but messy blonde hair and was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans. Henry who was slightly chubby compared to the other two and was sporting a ginger mullet matching the freckles on his face and was wearing a yellow and green high school football jacket and was operating the Ouija board along with Angela, and whilst he wasn't a member of their group he decided to tag along after Trish and Angela invited him. Angela was the quietest of the group, but was also the one with the most extreme ideas, she was dressed in what she called her usual 'gothic punk' getup with shoulder length black hair, a black tank top and jeans, along with various studded items around her thin arms and a pair of studs on her lips which along with her eyes were done up in black makeup whilst the rest of her face was pale white. Lastly there was Trish who was the 'leader' of the group with big frizzy blonde hair and large glasses, who was sporting a green jacket and baggy clothes more appropriate for the cold weather.

The five of them had decided to spend their Halloween night in Hall House, an abandoned Manor house that had stood in their town for many years as an allegedly haunted location due to its dark history, needless to say this house was the location of murders and seances over the years. Angela was the one who suggested that they conduct their 'experiment' there, as it had been 100 years since the horrific events in the house had taken place.

They had gone down to the lower levels of the house where the events took place, and after setting up their equipment on the table they illuminated the room with only candles and were now about to begin.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Ted asked.

"*sigh* You bring this up now!" Trish replied angrily, stopping her tape recorder.

"It's just we're trespassing! I'm all for discovering what lies beyond and all that, but this doesn't really feel safe, I mean I don't think the spirits here would appreciate Angela breaking the front door of their house."

"You heard Angela, this could be our one chance to do this!" Trish responded.

"Could we get on with this already, I'm not sitting on this stone floor all night." Henry complained.

"Yeah Trish is right, we're here now so lets do this." Blake added.

"You heard them." Trish said to Ted

"Fine, but I've got a bad feeling abo-"

"Don't say it Ted, you are not jinxing this!" Trish spat.

"Anyway, back to it." She said resuming her recording.

"Okay Angela, go for it."

As Angela was about to begin Blake got his camera ready whilst Ted resumed the large tape recorder on the table which was picking up any background noise whilst a radio next to it was skipping through channels.

"Spirits, can you here us?" Angela said aloud looking up.

The planchet then began moving slowly towards yes.

"Holy crap is it actually working!" Henry blurted out.

"Shhh! *At 03:04* the planchet answered yes." Trish whispered into her recorder as Blake took a shot.

"Spirits, can you show yourselves to us?" Angela then asked

"That seems a bit direct." Blake murmured under his breath before Trish shot him a glare.

After a few seconds the planchet didn't move.

"Spirits, can you still here me?" Angela asked but again nothing happened.

Trish looked over at Ted who was still surfing through radio channels but was receiving nothing. They waited for a few more minutes but again nothing happened.

"This blows! That first bit was totally just Angela moving it by herself" Henry blurted out.

"SHHH! Be quiet Henry!" Trish whispered angrily.

"Or what, nothing's happening! Hey spirits what color's my hair?" He asked before clearly forcing the planchet over the correct letters causing Angela's head to sink in disappointment.

"*Chuckle* Hey spirits what's my favourite colour?" Blake chimed in as Henry forced the planchet again.

"It says green."

"Holy shit it really is a g-g-g-ghost!" Blake replied dramatically.

Trish then aggressively turned off her recorder and slammed it on the table.

"You're ruining it!" She yelled at Blake and Henry.

"There's nothing to ruin, nothing's happened." Blake replied.

"We were getting something!" Trish yelled back.

"Sure we were, I wouldn't have even shown up to this if it weren't for Angela being hot, and now how's the rest of the football team gonna treat me when they find out that I spent Halloween night with losers in a dusty old basement!" Henry said.

"Technically this is- was a crematorium." Ted replied.

"Hey it's because of you we started late." Blake said to Ted who just shrugged it off and continued using the radio.

"Oh shut up, if you weren't at that stupid party we could've started even earlier!" Trish yelled at Blake.

"Last time I checked the witching hour didn't start at 02:47! How are we even supposed to see anything if the room's only lit by fucking candles!" Blake yelled back.

"GUYS SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO THIS!" Ted yelled gesturing to the radio.

Blake, Trish and Henry all crowded around as Ted began to oscillate between radio channels which was creating a strange sound.

"Is that... breathing?" Blake asked, triggering Trish to quickly grab her tape recorder.

"Maybe it's just some old fart with a ham radio." Henry said.

"Between channels, is that even a thing?" Ted replied.

"I thought you were a nerd?" Henry replied.

"Yeah ask me about comic books any day, I don't know how radios work." Ted replied.

As they continued to listen it was clear that they were hearing a voice, albeit it was very raspy and they weren't saying anything, until suddenly...

"GET OUT!" A voice yelled through the radio causing the four of them to jump away from the table, the static now sounding louder than ever.

"What the fuck was that!" Henry yelled, but the others were speechless.

The radio then started skipping sharply through channels, back and forth sounding like a knife tearing through electricity. All of a sudden the tape begin spinning faster and faster before it erupted into sparks along with all the other equipment causing the four of them to duck. As they slowly crept back up they each grabbed one of the many torches that were sitting on the table and after checking that they still worked pointed them towards the burned and blown up remains of the radio, but the sharp sound of it skipping channels was still somehow going, however after a few seconds it abruptly stopped.

The four of them sighed with relief simultaneously before realizing that the sharp sound of the radio going back and forth was now replaced with the sound of wood scraping back and forth.

All four of them slowly turned towards the direction of the sound and were greeted by the sight of Angela, still with her head hung low obscuring her face from view, as she violently scrapped the planchet against the now very worn looking board. She then abruptly stopped and crept forward slightly before looking up at the four of them, the light form their torches revealing her eyes to be nearly completely whited out aside from a tiny black dot of a pupil in each one.

"She's here." Angela said in a now deeper voice with a wicked grin.

"Oh fuck." Blake stammered. Suddenly the furnaces in the crematorium that hadn't been used in over 100 years ignited with roaring flames behind Angela, as slowly a circular pattern formed in the floor between her and the others, which then began to rot and sink down as what looked like blood began to seep through it until it looked like a small pool of it formed.

The four stood there speechless as slowly a woman rose out of the blood. She had pale skin and white hair, with sharp black eyebrows and what looked like red makeup around her eyes and lips. Her nails were sharp and black with crosses painted on them, in fact she also had small crosses under her eyes and studs in her nose and belly button. She wore some form of black headdress with various beads and spikes sticking from it along with angels sculpted on it. Her body was only covered by a corset that was laced in the middle showing off some of her stomach and a bra-like chest piece, both of which looked to be made from some thick leather-like material which connected down to straps holding thigh high black heeled boots onto her legs. She rose out of the floor with her eyes closed and her hands on her chest with blood dripping from her mouth down her chest and arms, her expression looking almost as though she was experiencing pleasure as she rose from her bloody gateway.

"Ooh It's good to be back here." She said as she lowered her arms from her chest and stretched her body before opening her eyes and looking at the four people in front of her.

"So, you're the two who mocked my arrival?" She said looking at Blake and Henry.

"W...we didn't mean it.. hones-" Henry began to blurt out but it was too late, the woman had pointed her finger at the two of them and purple electricity began crackling around their bodies. Their clothes were burned away as their bodies levitated as the two of them twitched and squirmed, Blake's glasses falling to the floor.

Trish and Ted backed up in shock at what they were witnessing, still speechless with their jaws hanging open.

Soon Blake and Henry's bodies were completely covered by black clouds which began swirling around them along with the electricity flashing, their screams of pain filling the room. Soon there came the sound of bones cracking and flesh rearranging and tightening as their screams turned more feminine, and during the occasional flash of electricity Trish and Ted could see their silhouettes inside the black clouds twisting and contorting as their figures became thinner and more delicate, along with certain areas becoming a lot more pronounced. During this their screams of pain shifted to moans of pleasure, then to slightly more animalistic sounds. Before long the clouds began to dissipate as their bodies became visible.

Trish and Ted stared in shock at the sight of what was formerly Blake and Henry, now in their place stood two women wrapped in black fur robes that draped down to the floor but left their bodies visible from the chest and shoulder area up. Their skin was now chalk white with pointed eyebrows and long black hair with short fringes. They had eyeliner that went off in streaks to the sides of their faces whilst black liquid dripped from their now whited out eyes. Their lips were also black and their noses were studded; their now pointed ears had circular black earrings and they each had a small necklace with a skull around their necks. They crouched there snarling with vampire-like fangs as their delicate hands with pointed black nails ran across their bodies.

"Come now my pets." The woman said causing the two of them to slink over to her crouching down behind her on each side.

"W.. what did you do to them?!" Ted yelled in a fearful tone.

"Oh them, I made them into my personal demonic hell spawn, they'll be keeping me company from now on, doing my bidding for the rest of their existence." She said as she ran her hands over their heads.

"Oh but don't worry your friends won't complain." She said with a grin.

"Now, I think introductions are in order." She said clapping her hands together.

"I am Kiniva, high ranking Demon Mistress of Hell." She announced with a grin, however noticing the lack of change on Ted and Trish's still shocked expressions her grin turned to a look of disappointment.

"Is that really how you respond to my presence!" She said angrily, before then calming down and looking intently around the room.

"Now, I believe I have business to attend to here." She continued as she very slowly began walking towards Ted and Trish, her hips swaying gracefully as she put one foot in front of the other, clearly knowing how to carry herself in the sexiest way possible with her figure silhouetted against the roaring flames behind her.

"W.. what do you want?" Trish asked nervously as she and Ted held each other fearfully as they backed up further into the corner of the room.

"Well, my loyal follower has spent many years waiting for this day." She said turning her head gesturing towards Angela.

"Wait.. what?!"

"Oh yes Ted, Angela here is the latest in a long line of followers going back over 100 years, dedicated out of shier multi-generational loyalty." She said turning around giving Angela a smile.

"Oh yeah well taste this!" Trish yelled pulling out a large crucifix and pointing it at Kiniva.

"What do you think I am, a Vampire?!" Kiniva replied angrily raising a hand to her face as she snapped her fingers causing the crucifix to erupt into flames in Trish's hand.

"Guess you didn't notice the crosses on my face." She said pointing to her face.

"But that's a holy item, it should repel you!" "Well you see Trish when you're as powerful as I am there isn't really much that can stop you, displaying that on my body wasn't enough to tell you that." She replied holding up her cross patterned nails. "Anyway enough of the small talk, I have things to do here." "What things?" Ted asked. "Well firstly I awarded my loyal follower who will now willingly accompany me back to hell as my apprentice, and those two boys were just a warmup, it's about time I had some real fun, starting with you Trish." "What are you talking about, why me!? Wasn't Blake and Henry enough?" "Oh no they were being punished for being impolite to a Demon, but you have much deeper sins." Kiniva replied with a chuckle. "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean, my follower latched on to your group due to your interests in my realm, but you didn't want to summon me to discover new worlds, new experiences, you just wanted to boost your ego."

Trish looked speechless. "It's no secret, you wanted to conduct this ritual just to prove you were right over all those other people, just knowing that I existed was enough, but you knew the danger I posed to the world and yet you went ahead without a care in the world. You didn't even show concern over your two companions over there being made into unholy creatures of hell, and that's not even the worst of it."

Trish was beginning to turn red as Ted looked at her confused.

"What's she talking about?" "Oh Ted didn't you know, she only let Henry tag along because she and Angela knew that in all of the previous rituals they had a sacrifice for me." Kiniva replied. "Is that true?" Ted asked Trish. "I...It didn't matter, he was a bully to me for two years straight back in middle school, he had it coming!" Trish blurted out through tears as she let go of Ted.

Ted stood there even more horrified and confused. "Oh Trish, it's alright. Doing something that horrible is considered admirable where I'm from." Kiniva replied as she stepped close to her.

As Trish stood there a sniveling mess Kiniva took her in her arms and held her close, running a hand over her hair.

"I'm proud of what you've done, you're officially a corrupted soul." Kiniva replied before lifting Trish's head up so they were face to face. "And you know what happens to corrupted souls." She said as her voice became much deeper before her eyes began to glow red as she held Trish in place who was screaming desperately as she tried to escape.

Trish let out a loud gasp as her waist was crushed inwards by a corset that had materialized over her torso, the binds creaking and tightening. A long black dress billowed out from the bottom of the corset covering her legs as it puffed out, and whilst it wasn't visible she could feel her feet raise as her trainers morphed into heels whilst her clothes under the dress vanished and were replaced with more appropriate undergarments. Her clothes on her upper body began to change also, with the neckline of her shirt widening and lowering down exposing an ample amount of cleavage that was being raised up by the corset, whilst her outer jacket darkened as it morphed into the upper section of the dress, with puffy shoulders, long black sleeves and dotted gloves that left her hands visible through them. An elaborate necklace formed around her neck along with earrings whilst makeup materialized onto her lips, giving them a dark gold coat whilst her eyebrows and eyes also became adorned with makeup. With the way she looked now she looked as though she belonged to a different time period.

Trish could barely express her shock at what she was experiencing as Kiniva held her in place by the head, forcing her to stare at her glowing red eyes as Trish could only imagine what was happening to her body. As Kiniva loosened her grip on Trish's head Trish's blonde hair began turning a dark brown as it lost it's frizzy look as it began to elegantly drape down her shoulders in a slightly curled appearance, before it suddenly began whipping around as it reformed on top of her head into an extravagant yet still elegantly styled bun.

Trish was speechless as she took in her new appearance, but soon noticed her whole body beginning to fade in colour; her clothes and skin were draining into a more washed out colour, but more disturbing was how her entire form was beginning to look old and flakey, not like an older person but rather like her skin and clothes were now made of a weathered material.

"Ted... help me.. please.." She begged but her voice was fading too, becoming quieter until no sound came from her lips, even her movements were becoming much slower and weaker, almost as though she'd fall apart if she wasn't careful. The sounds of her body stiffening and hollowing out continued as she froze in place with a vacant expression and her arms reaching up to her hair. Whilst she still maintained her shape she didn't look like an actual human anymore, instead she looked more like a paper model of herself.

Kiniva grinned as she drew a rectangle in the air with her finger, which morphed into a large old fashioned picture frame that floated behind Trish and lay on the floor. She then blew Trish a kiss that caused her hollowed out form to fall backwards. Ted tried desperately to catch her before she hit the frame but didn't make it in time, however instead of just hitting the frame she was absorbed into it, melting through until she was but a two-dimensional image, with the canvas taking in the weathered appearance that her skin had. Ted backed up in horror at what he'd just witnessed.

Kiniva lifted the frame from the floor as she inspected it with a grin.

"Well Trish you did like to use people like they were objects, now let's see how you like it being one." She said before propping the frame up against the wall.

"Oh God." Ted said shuddering in shock after what he'd just witnessed. "Sorry God's not here right now, you're stuck with me." Kiniva responded turning her attention towards him. "Oh don't worry about her, she's in a dimension where well... let's just say she's not going to want to leave anytime soon." "So are you gonna kill me now?" Ted asked nervously. "Well I would, or I'd turn you into another hell spawn, but unfortunately you've got something that's too valuable to waste." "What?" Ted asked fearfully. "An uncorrupted soul and genuine curiosity in what lies beyond, unlike that other mortal I just dealt with." She Replied. "Her name was Trish." Ted said with a hint of anger. "See, there it is! Even after knowing that she was willing to sacrifice another human life you still feel pity for her after what I did to her, plus you showed compassion for your other friends that I dealt with, that's the sign of an uncorrupted soul." Kiniva replied sounding impressed.

"But I can see you, what you want to know. You want to know what it's like where I'm from, and not to boost your ego or to get some rush out of it, you're just genuinely curious aren't you? You're not even really afraid of it, you tell yourself you are but you know you're not." Kiniva continued as she got closer to him. "I can show you. You can experience what it is like to be a being not of this realm, to be like.. me." She said now being right in front of Ted. "What do you say?" "I.. what will I be?" Ted asked. "Something very familiar." She replied before wrapping her arm around his head and pulling him in for a kiss.

Initially Ted was taken aback, but something was beginning to happen to him, and whatever it was felt really.. really good. The two of them began to become more passionate as they kissed each other, but as they kept going Ted's hair began to turn white as it slowly stretched down his head until it was identical in colour and style to Kiniva's.

His whole body started changing with his torso, arms and legs thinning out as his skin turned very pale and less blemished than before, in fact his skin was now incredibly smooth. As he reached up an arm to Kiniva's head his hands became more delicate and petite whilst his nails turned darker and sharper.

As they continued making out Kiniva began to slip Ted's clothes off his body revealing it to now be completely pale and rather delicate looking, but as she held him close she ran her hands up his legs to his waist, causing his thighs to bulge out along with his hips whilst his waist pulled in and his stomach flattened. His feet also looked much more feminine. She ran a finger along his spine which was followed by slight popping noises as his spine repositioned itself as his height shrank, causing his thickening thighs to jiggle.

Kiniva then started to kiss Ted more passionately, but as she stuck her tongue down his throat it travelled down even further into his body as it began reworking his insides, pushing and squishing them into new forms, with Ted seemingly being completely oblivious to what was happening to him.

"This is the best part." She whispered as she ran one hand over Ted's chest and another over his crotch, before she began running her hand up and down his shaft.

Ted moaned as he felt ripples of pleasure all throughout his body. "That's it, let it out." Kiniva said as she continued running her hand up and down, Ted completely oblivious to the shrinking of mass in his crotch.

As Ted stood there with his head back in complete bliss Kiniva's other hand began squeezing his chest, causing slight lumps to plump out.

By now Ted's penis was nearly completely gone, but as the pulses of pleasure ran through his body each pulse caused his penis to shrink whilst the mass on his chest built. "Oh yes, YES! DON'T STOP!" Ted yelled passionately, his voice raising slightly.

Kiniva grinned as she watched as the last traces of Ted's manhood fade, and began rubbing his flat crotch as a slit formed.

"OH... OOH!" Ted's moans were now completely feminine as he placed his hands over his chest as he welcomed the way they began to be filled with his rapidly expanding breasts, which continued to expand with each pulse of pleasure that ran through his body. Kiniva once again pulled him in closer causing Ted's forming breasts to squish up against hers.

As this was occurring the pulses of energy had reached his face, with it audibly cracking and stretching as it became slimmer and softer with each pulse whilst his breasts continued expanding. Whilst most of his facial features were thinning out like his nose and head shape in general, his lips plumped as his eyes grew larger along with his eyebrows becoming sharper and more defined. His eyebrows and eyelids darkened as though they were coated in makeup, whilst his sharpening cheekbones began to glisten slightly along with his lips becoming coated in black. Small cuts in the shape of crosses formed under his eyes as a pair of crosses morphed onto his face, along with a stud on the rim of his nose and on his tongue.

By now he had a pronounced set of breasts on his chest as his facial changes finalized, leaving him looking almost completely identical to Kiniva.

"One last touch." She whispered into Ted's ear who sounded as though he was about to reach climax, before she then pushed her hand into his chest, fazing through his skin which glowed orange as she grabbed his heart and turned it cold.

Ted moaned loudly in release, marking the end of his changes as Kiniva removed her hand from his chest, which was now adorned with what looked like a tattoo of a heart.

"There, now you have the identifying symbol of our type of Demon." Kiniva said to the slightly dazed Ted.

"How's it feel?" Kiniva asked her now doppelganger.

"This is, oh wow!" Ted replied looking down at his new form, still in shock at what he just went through but he strangely felt very accepting of his new situation. "I knew you'd like it."

"But I still don't understnad, why give me this but not Angela?" "Well Angela is a corrupted soul, so she will one day join our ranks, but she has to take the long way round in hell, but as my loyal follower she'll welcome it." "So, what am I going to do now?" Ted asked, a hint of excitement in his feminine voice. "Oh, I've got some ideas." Kiniva replied before her eyes glowed red as red beams shot from her eyes into Ted's.

She then began flooding Ted's mind with new knowledge, the inner workings of hell, the new powers this form allowed him to have as well as a Demon's lust for souls, as well as adjusting his mindset slightly to accommodate the intensity of this new knowledge that he'd, or more accurately she'd be needing, for now she was one with Kiniva. Once the beam had stopped her eyes turned black as a pair of red pupils flashed before returning to normal, signaling the completion of the process.

"Oh, now that feels so much better!" She said grinning with devilish energy as she lay her head back running her hands through her hair. "Thought you'd feel that way." Kiniva replied heading back over to Angela and her pets. "I must be off now, more souls to claim, more carnage to cause."

"Have fun Kiniva." "You too, Kiniva." The original Kiniva replied with a grin as a large black cloud swirled around her, consuming her, Angela and her two pets. It had nearly filled the whole room before it vanished, the fire in the furnaces having died, the hole in the floor that Kiniva rose from having repaired itself and the original Kiniva, along with Angela and her pets had vanished, leaving the room looking exactly as it did when Trish's group first entered it.

The new Kiniva stood there naked now completely silent and alone, before noticing the picture frame propped up against the wall which she picked up and inspected.

"Oh Trish, and to think I used to have a crush on you. Hope you like the view in there, don't worry I'll find a good place to display you." She grinned as she made her way out of the crematorium.

"Ooh, this place looks homely." Kiniva said as she headed off into the darkness of the house.

A few decades later..

"You sure this is a good idea?" David asked. "C'mon David, this house has stood here completely abandoned for years, people are too afraid to go near it because apparently some people went missing here back in the 80's." Brad replied. "So remind me why we're going in again?" "Because there's all the rumors about 'something' still occupying the house, so this is our chance to prove it, plus even if there's nothing this place was abandoned, so there's probably stuff in there worth millions, and seeing as it's 3:00 AM no one's gonna see us take anything." "Fine okay okay I'll go in with you." David replied reluctantly. As the two friends began making their way along the path towards the front door of the house, they were taken aback when the front door creaked open revealing the decrepit inside of the house along with the sight of a beautiful tall pale faced woman in a black dress with white hair.

"Hello boys, why don't you come inside, it's been years since anyone's visited."

The end?

47 notes · View notes

cashmeremars · 4 years ago

Text

dating seulgi || k.sg

pairing: seulgi x fem!reader

summary: seulgi is your girlfriend, here’s how it goes....

genre: fluff, angst, domestic!au, idol x non-idol reader

word count: 3.1k (whoops)

a/n: basically my dream life

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

how you met:

you’ve always been very art-inclined but never did much with it but sketch and paint in your apartment, so your friends thought it would be a good idea to enrol you in an art class (without your knowledge)

At first you weren’t very fond of the idea because you never really shared your art with anyone, and going to an art class meant that you would have to share your art with a bunch of random strangers and a professional art teacher (which is super nerve-wracking)

your friends manage to convince you, but not without your constant protests

the day of the first art class comes and you decide that if you’re gonna be surrounded by strangers for the first time, you might as well look nice, especially if your art is gonna suck

you had approximately 5 minutes to gather your art supplies and get in your car before you were gonna be late (because you spent too much time on your appearance)

you manage to arrive to the art studio in time and find a seat next to a girl that looked all too familiar to you

as soon as you sit down you can feel her looking at you, when you look up, she whips her head back towards her canvas

The teacher walks in and starts teaching. your first assignment was to draw a fruit bowl but in the most abstract way possible

as everyone starts to unpack their supplies to draw, you realize that you left your sketching pencil at home (typical)

you panic for a little bit before you turn to the girl next to you

As you look at her, you realize just how pretty she is; her dark hair and bangs frame her pale face beautifully as her cheeks are dusted with faint strokes of pink that match her lips

She turns to glance at you and you realize that you’ve been staring at her for too long. She raises an eyebrow at you before you speak

“Hey, um, i was being really stupid this morning and forgot my pencil. Can i borrow one of yours?” you stammer as you look at her with wide eyes

she giggles softly to herself as her eyes crinkle into little crescent moons, she hands you one of her pencils and then extends her hand out to you

“I’m Seulgi, you must be new to this class?” she asks with a smile

You introduce yourself before answering her question “yeah, my friends kind of forced me to do this, i’m not sure if it’ll be fun or not”

“Well if you’re not having fun then you can just talk to me. I like keeping people company”

You smile at her softly before turning your head back to your canvas. For the rest of the class you and seulgi find each other speaking to each other, or stealing shy glances at one another

After an hour, everyone’s sketches were complete. You hear a gasp next to you and quickly turn your head towards Seulgi

“Oh my god, that’s amazing” Seulgi says as she gapes directly at your artwork

Your first instinct is to cover up your canvas, but seulgi’s gasp attracts the attention of your classmates as they all move towards you to look at your art

As you get showered with compliments you can’t help but blush since everyone's reactions were so unexpected

The commotion near your canvas calms down as everyone goes around admiring each other’s artwork

“You’re so cute when you’re shy” seulgi says quietly beside you

“What? O-oh thank you. You’re pretty too” you stutter

Everyone begins to pack their bags to leave. When you turn to hand seulgi her pencil, you realize that she’s gone

You being to pack your things more frantically so you can try to see if she’s still hanging around the building

As you rush out of the room you bump directly into seulgi with a huff, she turns around startled before she realizes that it’s just you

“Um, I just wanted to return your pencil. I didn’t know if you had left the building already” you say as you hand her the pencil

She reaches to grab it and your fingers caress each other gently before she looks up at you with a sweet smile

“Thank you, you art is amazing by the way. I wish I could draw like that” she says as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear

“What? Seulgi, your art is quite literally the best I’ve seen in awhile. If anything, I should be jealous of you” you exclaim with wide eyes. It was ridiculous to think that Seulgi’s art was anything less than astonishing.

“Oh thank you. Hey, did you enjoy the class? I really hope you can come back” Seulgi says as she lightly taps your forearm

“Honestly, it was actually pretty enjoyable. I really loved being in an environment where everyone has the same goals. Especially with classmates as supportive as you” you reply

“Good, hopefully you’ll remember your pencil or anything. Not that I mind if you don’t” she jokes

“Please, I’ll definitely remember it next time” you reply with a chuckle

After a while of speaking, you and seulgi exchange numbers as you head towards your car

“Hey, have I seen you somewhere? You seem really familiar, but I don’t know how” you ask as you reach your car

Seulgi visibly hesitates for a bit before she replies “I’m an idol. Seulgi from Red Velvet” she replies with awkward jazz hands

Then it all hits you. You’d often see red velvet on TV and Seulgi was always the one that stood out to you the most

“Oh. Well I think that Seulgi from art class rolls off the tongue better” you reply with a wink.

She laughs before a car pulls up and honks at her

“Oh, my managers here. I’ll text you, if you want me to” she replies with shy eyes

“Of course I’d want you to text me. I’ll see you later Seulgi” you say before opening your car door. She waves at you before walking away and into the car. She rolls down the window before shouting out another goodbye with a wide smile and both of her hands waving

You roll your eyes at her playfully before waving again and heading into your car. You drive home with a smile stuck on your face as you remember her smile.

When your friends asked you about how the art class went, you told them everything that happened. They teased you for a bit but were also happy that you made a new friend that shares the same hobbies as you, although they insisted that you wanted her to be more than your friend

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

dates:

You and seulgi had been hanging out for the past 3 months (usually after your art classes) and she’d quickly become one of your closest friends over the course of those 3 months

You and seulgi were having an art-picnic at the park. You’d both decided it would be fun if you drew sketches of each other to your best abilities.

Obviously you tried really hard on your sketch of seulgi (which wasn’t all that hard considering how many times you’ve mindlessly doodled her, you’d basically memorized her facial features)

The wind was blowing your hair in your face but that didn’t stop you from completing your sketch of her

You look up at Seulgi to catch any more details that you might’ve missed and you notice that she’s smiling shyly as her face starts to blush while she draws you. You raise your eyebrow at her but she doesn’t notice.

A little while later she flicks her wrist upwards while semi-yelling “Done!” with a bright smile

You finish yours soon after with a smile. The drawing looks exactly like her; from the stray hair of her bangs to the tiny little freckles on her cheeks.

You both stare at each other for a bit before she motions towards your sketchbook, waiting for you to share yours first.

You hesitate before turning your sketchbook towards her. You close your eyes and wait for her reaction. You hear a gasp as she quickly takes the sketchbook out of your hands and examines it.

You open your eyes and look at her as she gapes at your drawing.

She looks up at you with bright eyes as she starts to gush at your drawing “this looks exactly like me” she says with a smile. “Do you mind if i keep it?” she asks quietly

“Uh. yeah, of course. I mean I drew it for you anyways” you say with a nervous chuckle

There’s a bit of silence as you watch her admire your drawing. Her eyes glimmer like the sun reflecting the ocean in a way that looks like she’s about to tear up

She suddenly looks up at you before she takes a deep breath. She puts your sketch down and holds hers up towards you. She smiles nervously at you before she turns her sketchbook towards you

There’s a nearly perfect portrait of you sketched onto the paper. She even managed to perfect your hair flying in the wind.

You grab the sketch from her in awe and begin to inspect it closely. Seulgi’s attention to detail never fails to surprise you

As you look even closer at the portrait, you notice a bit of handwriting at the bottom. You slightly squint your eyes at it before your jaw slowly starts to hang open

“I know this might seem a bit awkward but I really feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Please don’t hate me, but do you maybe kinda wanna go on a date sometime?” it says in scribbled handwriting

You dropped the sketch and engulfed her in a long loNG hug (and she started crying aw)

The rest of your picnic was just you guys staring at each other and giggling

Your first date lasted around 48 hours because Seulgi insisted that she takes you on a roadtrip to her favourite places (but you wouldn’t have asked for anything more)

You and seulgi will go on dates anywhere

You’ve gone bowling, arcading, canoeing, hiking, karaoke, and tree climbing (which was kind of weird but you guys had fun)

On your 100 day anniversary, seulgi takes you out on a date to the lake where you ride those cute swan boats

You then shared a red velvet cake (wink wink) before heading over to your apartment to binge movies

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

kisses:

Even though she’s your girlfriend, seulgi is still pretty shy about kissing you (which also makes you shy)

Your first kiss was actually on your first date

You were both sitting in the swan boats, pedaling lightly as you laughed along with each other. At one point you both fell into a comfortable silence

She was brushed a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly and capturing her soft lips with yours

It was a very wholesome kiss that left her blushing aggressively when you pulled away

You leaned back in for another kiss (which she obviously granted) and that was your first kiss !!!

Seulgi’s kisses depend on the situation, for example;

Good luck kisses - these are usually the kisses that you give seulgi before she has to go to rehearsal or days of the group’s comebacks. These kisses are always very sweet and long and filled with encouraging words between each one. You grab her face with both hands and plant a big kiss before whispering good luck and patting her cheek.

Goodnight kisses - these kisses usually happen at the end of each date when seulgi has to head back to the dorms. you guys usually spend at least 10 minutes saying goodbye to each other before one of you actually ends up leaving. These kisses are usually very soft and linger for much longer than they should, as they’re accompanied with soft whispers of how much you enjoyed the day.

Greeting kisses - these happen when you meet up before a date, before art class, or literally just anytime you see her. When you see each other, she usually engulfs you in a warm bear hug. They’re usually just soft little pecks, maybe three in a row and then you guys are off catching up on each other’s lives

Adoration kisses - these ones usually come out of nowhere. These happen on your dates when one of you gets so caught up in admiring the other that you kind of slip into your own world, where they’re the only other person that exists. You can’t think of anything but them. So you lean in and kiss her, again, again, and again, until you get lost in the moment.

Morning kisses - these happen at the crack of dawn. you're both still half asleep, but not enough to not acknowledge the others’ presence. Seulgi will usually wrap her arm across your chest without even realizing it, and you instinctively lean in closer. You both squint at each other, seulgi’s hair is all over her face and the sight always makes you laugh. Seulgi groans quietly as she stretches, her leg falls over yours and she nuzzles her head into your side. She lazily lands a kiss on your cheek and neck before slowly falling back asleep

Comforting kisses - the most heartbreaking kisses that you and seulgi share. Sometimes you’ll visit the dorm to hang out with seulgi and find her laying on her bed unmoving, and with shaky breaths. You quietly whisper her name and your heart breaks as she turns to look at you with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. You’d always heard about how tough it was being an idol, but seulgi never opened up to you about it because she wanted to be herself around you, not “Red Velvet’s Seulgi”, so seeing the effects of it firsthand was nothing less than shocking for you. You rush to hold her in your arms as she cries into your shoulder. You whisper that you’ll be there for her and that you’ll listen when she’s ready. Quietly rubbing her back, you plant soft kisses on her forehead and cheeks between your whispers as she slowly calms down.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

arguments:

You and seulgi rarely argue because you’re both mature adults that value communication

But when you do argue it can get pretty bad

You never really argue about petty things, so that’s why things can get pretty tense when you argue about serious things

The tension in the room when you guys argue is scary for anyone that happens to be in the room

You can quite literally feel how angry the two of you are

Your voices are always very tight and low when you guys are arguing and it would give anyone goosebumps

It gets to the point where you both just decide that you’re tired of talking in circles so someone usually storms out and goes home

You won’t speak to each other for a couple of days (like absolutely no contact at all)

Then one of you will text the other asking to come over and then y’all manage to sort it out, apologize, and go back to how things were before

Your relationship is ultimately very healthy so arguments aren’t exactly a huge problem for you

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

her love languages:

Words of affirmation - seulgi loves when you give her words of affirmation randomly throughout the day. Little compliments and random praise really makes her day. It could be about a new decoration she put up in her room, a dish she made, or even a hairstyle she tried out. The blush that graces her face is the most adorable part of it all, which only encourages you to compliment her more. Seulgi also loves to give you words of affirmation, but they always make her shy and flustered. It’s the cutest sight to see.

Quality time - you and seulgi are basically inseparable. You both always have so much to talk about and so much to do, that you never actually get bored of each other. However, both of you are extremely busy (seulgi more than you), so when you do get free time, you are ALWAYS together. Seeing her face after such a long time apart makes you never want to leave her again. You both spend an hour catching up on each other’s lives, and then you do some fun stuff together. This can include watching movies, learning dances together, biking, drawing, baking, etc. There’s nothing you two haven’t done.

Gifts - seulgi believes that the best gift you can give someone comes directly from the heart, so she’s a huge fan of home-made gifts. This can go from drawings/paintings she’s made of you, cute little bracelets with your nick-names or initials on them, little sweaters and hats she’s knitted for you. Whenever seulgi has to travel for promotions or tours, she’ll bring back cute little trinkets that she said reminded her of you. You have a whole collection of keychains, stuffed animals, and little postcards that seulgi has sent you while she was abroad. Seulgi’s favourite gifts from you are the ones that you’ve put a lot of thought into. For example, a handwritten love letter, tickets to a movie she’s been talking about, homemade little videos edits that you’ve collected of her, posters of her favourite art pieces, etc. In your relationship, thoughtful gifts mean more than expensive gifts.

Acts of service - your friendship and relationship literally started off with an act of service when she lent you her pencil. You two are constantly doing things for the other. Oh, you were planning to throw out the garbage? I did that an hour ago. You’re hungry? Great, I just finished making you a three course meal just for fun. There’s just something about surprising one another with finishing little tasks for each other each day that’s especially heartwarming. It’s not anything special, but it shows that you care about each other, and it also makes things less stressful for one another.

Physical touch - i feel like i’ve already established that seulgi lOVES physical affection. She would cuddle you for the rest of her life if she could. Although the two of you aren’t into PDA, when you’re alone you’re basically stuck to each other. You’re always holding hands, giving each other pecks, playing with each other’s hands, brushing each other’s hair, squeezing each other’s cheeks. You simply can’t get enough of each other and it’s adorable.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

masterlist

read before requesting

to do list

#seulgi fluff #kang seulgi fluff #red velvet fluff #red velvet imagine #red velvet smut #red velvet fanfic #red velvet fic #red velvet fanfiction #seulgi smut #seulgi fanfic #seulgi imagine #seulgi headcanon #red velvet headcanon #seulgi fanfiction #kang seulgi headcanon #kang seulgi fanfic #kang seulgi imagine #kang seulgi smut

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober Day 21: Infection

CW: sick whumpee, abdominal pain, medical whump, emeto mention, nausea mention, pet whump references, recovering whumpee, fever, sickfic

TIMELINE: Chris’s first year after rescue

Nat makes the call, her jaw set in a grim line as she puts her phone up to her ear, and Jake has never seen the laugh-lines and crow's-feet wrinkles as clearly as he does in the dim yellowed light from the single lamp in the corner.

"We can't do this," Jake says, softly, but he's outvoted by sheer necessity and he knows it, he knows before the protest ever leaves his mouth. It doesn’t stop his heart from racing, dread pooling deep inside him. "Nat, we can't, he isn't-... they’ll turn him in, Nat, god damn it-"

"Hey," Nat says into the phone, ignoring Jake entirely. "It's me. Yeah. I'm calling you for help."

Next to Jake, lying on the couch while the big man balances himself seated precariously on the coffee table, Chris whines weakly in pain, pressing the back of Jake's hand to his clammy, sweat-soaked forehead. Coppery hair sticks to him, soaked the color of old pennies.

Jake half-expects to see the blue-green tarnish growing and taking over.

"Hurts," Chris whispers, and Jake's heart breaks open. They didn't know - Chris had collapsed this morning, thrown up his breakfast and then blacked out in the bathroom, it was the first they'd seen of his illness.

Only when he'd been bundled down here to the couch, temp taken - 102 degrees Fahrenheit, holy fuck, he’d been fine yesterday, right? - had Chris admitted he'd been hurting for two days, a pulsing pain around his navel that felt like it was taking over his whole right side now. He told them he’d been so scared they would make him take medicine again that he hadn't told anyone.

When Chris pointed to the right side of his stomach and said that it hurt there, and it kept getting worse... that was when Nat had given that serious, firm nod, said Dr. Masood couldn't help them this time, and picked up the phone.

"Nat, he still has his barcode, they'll fucking turn him in-"

"My money’s on appendicitis," Nat says flatly into the phone. Her eyes move to Chris, lips thinning at his pale skin, freckles and two bright red splotches standing out on his cheeks, the way his green eyes are glassy, hazy, lost until the pain spikes and they briefly clear, just enough for him to start crying again. "Guarantee it. I can't use our guy." A pause. "Listen, he's eighteen - I think - and was routinely subjected to dehydration, starvation, and sleep deprivation. His medical care inside isn’t exactly nothing, but... this is appendi-fucking-citis and that motherfucker is going to burst if we don't get someone to cut it out of him ASAP. I don't have the time to waste going back and forth on this with you. Take one fucking look at him and you’ll know it!"

Nat never swears like this, with such intense hostility and insistence. Chris tightens his grip on Jake, and moans, frightened, turning to look up at him with wide green eyes far too big for his pinched expression. “S-sorry, I’m, I’m sorry… ‘ll... ‘ll b’good...”

The plaintive haunted fear and hurt in him makes Jake wish there were an enemy, someone he could fight. Sitting here watching Chris get sicker by the hour, able to do absolutely nothing about it, is so much worse than anything else ever has been.

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs, stroking over his hair, carding his fingers gently through the damp, sweaty strands. “She’s not mad at you, little man, I swear. You’re sick and she’s trying to get help, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fuck those motherfuckers who made you too scared of pills to tell us you were hurting.

"Jake-" Chris starts, and then stops, swallows as his face goes a little green around the edges and he tenses, whimpering, torn between nausea and the way muscles tensing makes him hurt even worse. Jake watches his internal battle written openly across his expression. Tears slip from his eyes, running down his cheeks, as he chokes back a sob. "It, it, it hurts so much... Jake, I, I need… I could take, take, could… could could could take something now."

Jake nods and starts to move but Nat puts up a hand. "No drugs," She says, quietly. "They'll give him something there to put him under. We don’t want anything to interact badly.”

“Nat-”

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice firm and calm. “But nothing until my contact has him.”

“Who is your fucking contact, anyway?”

Nat gives Jake a small, tired smile. “Not yet, Jake. Have to keep these things under wraps.”

"Mom, please," Chris pleads, and Jake and Nat both turn to look at him, shocked, eyes wide. "Mom, it, it, it… It hurts!"

Neither of them says anything at first, and Chris stares at them, eyes pleading but far away. It isn’t them he sees at all.

“Nat-”

“Just go with it,” She says, and goes back to the phone.

“Please, Mom-” Chris whimpers.

"Sorry, we can't," Jake whispers, fighting back the burn of hot tears himself as he goes back to stroking through Chris’s hair. Guilt twists inside him, sharp as any knife. Being helpless is tearing him apart.

Chris’s eyes move, lock on Nat, struggle to maintain their focus, go hazy again. His flush is layered over a gray-green paleness that makes him look like a corpse with makeup, pouring sweat that doesn’t cool him down at all. “Mom, please, please help me, please… don’t, don’t, don’t let them take you out, out of my head, Mom, please!”

Nat listens to the voice on the other end of the phone. Her eyes glimmer and her jaw is starting to tremble where she has it locked, visible in the low warm light coming from the lamps, but her voice stays steady. "No. Yes. Yes, that’s him you’re hearing. Yes… 102.3- yes, I'm sure. Fifteen minutes ago, more or less. Abdominal pain - he even said he thought it was a stomachache at first. Fever. Nausea, vomiting, yes. Getting worse and moving down and to the right. Yeah, I know. So how do we keep my rescue safe without the solution being to sit here and watch him die from infection?"

Jake ignores the cold fear that squeezes bony fingers around his heart and wipes Chris's forehead with a cool wet cloth.

"Mom, m'sick," Chris whispers. "No, no school. Please, please…" His eyes track blearily over Jake's face. "Dad, tell her. Tell, tell, tell-... tell her m’sick…”

"I know," Jake says quietly, his voice shaking and thin. Nat is speaking softer now, lightning-fast whispers with her contact, somebody she's worked with for years with the hospital. "I know, Chris. We’re going to take you to see a doctor, okay?”

Chris blinks at him once, twice, and then his eyes are gone, shifting away. His lower lip starts to tremble, jerking fast, shallow breaths, nearly panting. “I’ll be, be, be-be, be good, don’t… don’t hurt me, sir, I’ll… I’ll be good.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” Jake can’t listen to this much longer. “I know you will.” Chris’s voice is small, losing all his sense of himself. Timid, scared, sweet.

“Be good… can, um, can, can be good f-for… you…” Chris whispers, eyes closing, new tears run out the corners as he whimpers and curls up against the pain. “Just, just stop… hurting me… b-be good, handler, good for, for, for you...”

Jake’s stomach flips and he has to fight the bile trying to rise in his throat. “Nat-”

“Hush, Jake.” Nat’s voice is still calm, and her attention is on the phone. "Mmhmmm. Christopher, um... say Yoder-”

“Stanton,” Jake says from the couch.

Nat might smile. The expression is too tight, too pinched with worry, to really be called that. “Strike that. Christopher Stanton." Nat listens for a long time, then says quietly, "Eighteen…. We think. No known health problems or pre-existing illness. Autistic."

Jake looks up, blinking, and Nat calmly looks back at him, giving a firm nod while speaking into the phone. "Yes. Yes, I'm confident. He is sensitive to fluorescent lights, scared of needles, and terrified of sedation. Yeah, I realize that I just described the exact environment of a hospital.” Her voice starts to shift, then, and Jake watches her free hand close into a fist. She speaks with increasingly open anger, badly masking her worry and fear. “For the love of Christ, just put on the fucking papers that Christopher Stanton is fucking autistic, because that's what my goddamn rescue is and he still needs care - I'll sell someone else's firstborn to fucking Satan if he isn't autistic, god damn it, mark my fucking words - and we're wasting time goddamn dithering over whether you believe a diagnosis while he gets worse!"

Nat's voice rises, nearly shouting, and Chris whines and curls up closer to Jake, then winces and cries out in pain, straightening back out again.

"Sssshhhhh, it's okay," Jake murmurs, but his heart is racing, too, his nerves are jagged with memories of swearing, shouting adults. Some part of him that has never stopped being a child braces for the sound of impact. "It's okay."

Nat is quiet for a long time, then snaps, "Yep, nope, I know, I know you needed to confirm," fast and angry. “See you then.” She hangs up, turning to look at Jake and Chris. "My contact is on their way. If the surgery works, two days and he's home. If his appendix bursts... Could be two weeks in the hospital, Jake."

"No," Jake says, lips barely moving. "No, Nat. Two weeks… he can't fake being someone else for so long."

"He better give it his best shot," Nat says, pushing herself to her feet. "I know this sucks, Jake, but sometimes what we do is make the hard choices they can’t make. And… and even if they turn him in, being turned in is better than dying."

Is it? Do you know that?

"What do we do, then?" Jake says, resting his hand on Chris's sweat-damp hair. Chris doesn't seem aware anymore, staring off into space, weeping silent tears and hitching soft sobs, promising in whispers to be good and obey his handler if only he’ll make the pain stop. “What’s the next step? Give me a fucking order, Nat, because I’m lost, and-” Jake gives a nervous, humorless laugh. “-I’m pretty fucking scared for him.”

"Yeah… yeah, I get that. Just pack some clothes and toiletries," Nat says flatly. "And prepare to swear on the fucking Bible to doctors and surgeons and fucking cops if we have to that his name is Chris Stanton and he's your little brother. We’re about to put on a show, Jake."

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not leaving him. You are going to be the most concerned and caring big brother the world has ever seen. When he gets out of surgery, you’re going to meet him in recovery, you’re going to stay with him in his room day and night. You’re there from day one until he walks back out the door.” Nat’s jaw is set again. “And he will be walking back out that door with us.”

“Visiting hours-”

“He can’t make his own medical decisions,” Nat says, leaning over a little, staring Jake right in the eyes. “So someone has to be there all the time. Do you understand me? He can’t.”

“He’s not-... he could, if he was a little further along-”

Chris whines, and his hand grabs weakly at Jake’s and squeezes. Jake can hardly feel it.

“He’s not. Okay? He’s not that far into recovery yet. We’re going to pretend he’s a lot less capable than he is, to get him through this. We are going to pretend he can’t do it himself, because right now it’s not pretending, he wouldn’t remember what to do yet. And I feel like shit treating him like a toddler, Jake, I really do, but… but he can’t do this alone, and I can’t exactly tell them it’s because he was a pet and they’re trained to be dependent, now can I? We’re going to have to lie about his condition.”

“That wasn’t actually a lie, though, right? We do think he is actually-”

“Yeah. We do. But he’s not incapable - or he won’t be, once he’s older. That’s what we have to lie about. And I don’t-... right now I don’t give a shit about a damn thing except buying him more time to fucking grow up.”

"What about his barcode?"

Nat takes a deep breath. "My contact is going to bandage it over, say it was part of when he passed out and they’ve taken care of it and we're going to hope to Christ no one who they don't trust checks under it. We're out of options, Jake, unless you know how to do an appendectomy and you’ve just been holding out on me. I’m not prepared to do kitchen table surgery. Are you?"

There’s a pause while they stare at each other, and then Jake takes in a deep, steady breath.

You can do this. Chris needs you to do this.

"His name is Chris Stanton," Jake says, meeting her eyes, "and he's my little brother, and he's autistic. I’m his medical power of attorney, I make medical decisions when he’s incapcitated. He’s scared of hospitals because of bad childhood experiences and needs someone nearby at all times or he’ll lose it.”

Nat gives a terse nod. "Good. Pack your shit, and hope his fucking appendix hasn't burst while my contact dicked around."

Nat went up the stairs like a lightning bolt, and Jake let out a shuddering breath.

By the time they hear the ambulance pull up a few minutes later, sirens and lights carefully off, they're packed and ready to follow in Nat’s old truck.

Chris's fever is still rising.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

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heartofsnark · 4 years ago

Text

He’s Not Real, She’s Not Pretending (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; Sooooooo, I’m posting porn for a game that won’t be out in 20 days, that I just started to seriously look at 2 days ago, but ummmm Johnny Silverhand like fuck man. He’s living rent free in my head both in game and irl. I already have an oc and I really wanted some fuck, so my V is named Aidan, she is a baby and a a slut in this context. This is completely based off oh hey, if we fuck in game, and Johnny in brain, Johnny watch us fuck. And then it spiraled.

Word Count: 4303

Chapter Warnings: Voyeurism, Unprotected Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cum Swallowing, Protected Vaginal Sex, One Night Stand/Semi Anonymous Sex, Calling out the wrong name, MMF Threesome, but like while he gets laid Johnny is like lowkey cucking this guy but he don’t even know cause he can’t see the man cucking him, its weird, metal fingers on clit, like that’s a thing here, cumming on someone/semi-facial???? And the weirdest thing to explain is like, she’s deaf and takes out her hearing aids, so she’ll only hear johnny since he’s in her head that bypasses hearing damage, so like, disability device being removed for sex????? What is this??? Who knows?????

Edit: I HAD A FUCKIN SENIOR CITIZEN MOMENT AND FORGOT TO MENTION; @enchantedbythebidders IS ALSO TO BLAME BECAUSE SHE HELPED PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD, SO THIS IS NOT ALL MY FAULT!

“Really, this guy?” Johnny scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning against the bar. Aidan is once again somewhat thankful that no one else can hear the long dead Rockstar that lives in her head.

She pretends she doesn’t hear him either, despite him being the one voice other than her own who she can hear no matter what. The man standing in front of her is attractive, as far as she’s concerned, over 6ft with plenty of muscle and some cybernetics glinting against the side of his shaved head. The alcohol in her system has made it easier to ignore Johnny, but it brings the reason she’s here to the forefront of her mind.

Aidan needs to get laid, plain and simple. She hasn’t had a proper orgasm since Johnny started living rent free in her head. There’s a certain level of embarrassment at just how easily and maybe even unavoidably peeps on her. He pops visibly into the world whenever he feels convienet, for him that is, and seems to make a habit of making sure she knows he’s there when she’s in some state of undress. Johnny’s watched her change without a hint of shame, making comments on her body and laughing at her reactions, like he’s not the weirdo. He’s sat in the bathroom while she showers, talking to her about plans of burning the city down, like she wasn’t fucking naked.

Safe to say, she hasn’t ventured into what would happen if she tried to get off with him around. She doesn’t need him making snide comment while she has a hand in her panties. But, with a hookup, another person and a decent amount of booze. She may just be able to distract and loosen herself up enough that she won’t even notice him, though he has a habit of making himself impossible to ignore. But regardless, the former nomad needs this, she’s constantly tense and finding herself horny at every provocation, her dumb sexually frustrated lizard is even starting to think Johnny’s hot which is not a road she needs to traverse. Talking to the ghost in your brain is one thing, trying to find out if his holographic form comes with a dick is another.

“You do remember I can hear your thoughts, right, Samurai?”

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted?” The guy, who’s name she’s already forgotten, asks. As if she needed more reason to ignore Johnny.

“Oh yeah, sorry, there’s just been something kind of annoying nagging at the back of my mind. But I’m good, you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, sounds good, there’s a motel not far from here.”

“What are we waiting for then?”

“Ugh,” Johnny groans and rolls his eyes, evaporating into cyan static as Aidan leaves with her bedmate for the night.

Hands reach up into her bleached bob as the man presses Aidan against the door, his lips against hers, a strangers tongue roaming her mouth. She puts her hand over his, attempting to move it lower, as nice as her hair and face being touched is… This isn’t romance, she wants to be groped, manhandled, to feel him squeeze her ass or shove his hand down her pants. Even at the door before they’ve entered the room, she just wants to get fucked. But he doesn’t get the memo. His hand doesn’t move from cupping the back of her head.

“Didn’t go for brains, did ya?” Johnny’s voice taunts and Aidan bites down harder on the stranger’s buttom lip than needed, her annoyance for Johnny seeping through her actions.

Normally, when someone annoys the everloving fuck out of her, as Johnny is so prone too. She’d remove her hearing aids, submit herself to silence until they get bored and fuck off. But, Johnny’s in her fucking head, his voice echoing through her mind as clearly as her own thoughts, the only noise in this world she can’t shut off.

Aidan reaches behind her, opening the motel door and stepping into it, tugging the guy, what the hell was his name again, in by the bottom of his t-shirt. Kiss broken, she watches as he closes the door behind him, right in the holographic Johnny’s face. If that would actually prevent him from following, she’d be ecstatic. She’s sure he’ll be back in a moment, because he’s never fucking gone for more than a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter, she decides, this isn’t about Johnny. It’s about scratching her itch and cumming. She yank her shirt off over her head and throws her bra after it, whats-his-name, blinks for a moment before his eyes look over her breasts; pale and freckled. It was sudden, a quick cut to the chase, and she knows that.

“I, uh, really fuckin’ need this.” She admits, face flushing.

“Hey, no need to beat around the bush then,” the guy laughs, and he has such a pretty smile, she wishes she remembered his name.

“Fuckin’ hell, you that damn desperate?” Johnny’s laugh mingles with the strangers, now plopped down on a chair in the motel room, “you gonna start humping his leg, next?”

The chair is positioned just across from the small room’s bed, Aidan and her partner standing beside it, between where Johnny sits and the old mattress. Johnny sits casual, strewn with his legs wide open, at the perfect vantage point to stare dead on at Aidan and what-his-face.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, just that annoying persistent nagging fuckin’ thought,” she grumbles, tapping the back of her head, she’d give anything to rip that fuckin’ chip out right now.

“We don’t have to if you’re-“

“No, no, uh, if you’re still up for it, I really really want this.” It’s so sweet of him to offer to stop and she recognizes that but dear lord that kindness is not what she wants right now. She needs someone to fuck her brains out, so Johnny will leave with them.

“You’d probably be getting laid more if you didn’t act like a nutjob, you know that?” Johnny cuts in, that too pretty cocky smirk across his face. And he probably heard that too, fuck.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” the stranger says, pulling his shirt off over his head, Aidan’s eyes following down the line of hair that vanishes into his jeans. She kicks off her boots and starts unbuttoning her jeans, waiting for him to get the message. As nice as his chest is, she needs his dick, like yesterday. In her mouth, her cunt, anywhere, she just fucking needs it.

“I’d be puking if I could,” Johnny taunts again, but he’s laughing dark and deeply, no hint of disgust, “really had to wind up in a cock whore’s head, didn’t I?”

He could always leave, she nearly tells him so, but stops herself. Knowing it’d confuse and or frighten her hookup. Instead, she kicks off her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her panties as the stranger starts to undo his own jeans. Her thighs are clenching and she’s already slick.

“My entire existence is in your head, so no, I can’t help but see your little show. So, if I’m stuck watching it, I might as well have some fun with it too.”

He wants to see a fucking show? She can give him a goddamn show.

Stranger drops his jeans, kicking out of them along with his shoes. And Aidan doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knees in front of him, she’s practically drooling as she pulls down his boxers, hearing him curse above her. He’s already hard, leaking pre-cum, and hot in her grasp. She licks up the length the next moment, dragging the silver ball piercing in her tongue along it, wetting the underside with drool.

“Oh fuck…”

“Fuck.”

Johnny’s and the stranger’s curses mingle, she tries not to worry about what the forgotten rockerboy is thinking, why he’d curse like she’s drooling on his dick and not a rando’s. Whatever he’s going through is his own fucking problem, he’s the one who wanted to treat her like his own personal porno flick. She teases her tongue across the head of his cock, licking along every curve of it, then lapping where pre-cum drips out. Aidan gives a moan when she tastes it, trying to convince her bedmate it’s the best thing she’s ever had. And while it’s more a faint bitterness, the mere fact she’s tasting cock makes her insides clench.

She looks up with big gray eyes, her pick of the night has his eyes closed, biting his lip at the feeling of her on his dick. And then she takes him down her throat, gagging softly at the resistance there as she pushes her head down further. Determination, she takes him until her nose is flushed to his hips. Her jaw aches at the stretch but she ignore it in favor of swallowing around his dick, letting the muscles squeeze around him. It’s hot and heavy in her mouth, twitching in and leaking in her throat. Aidan holds still for a moment, just swallowing and moving her tongue around him, imagining how the length of him will fit inside of her cunt.

Then the ache is a bit too much, the need to breath a bit too strong, and he’s murmuring curses as she pulls off of him completely. She keeps her mouth open wide, panting and showing off the way saliva still connects her mouth to his cock.

Johnny curses and she sees him in the chair from her peripheral, watching with heavy lidded eyes as she sucks cock. She spares a side glance at a shift of movement, silver arm glinting as it catches the light, she realizes he’s rubbing his own cock through his pants. There’s a noticeable tent forming, which may answer a previous question… Her face goes brighter red, but she pushes through, this isn’t about Johnny or at least it shouldn’t be.

And she’s back on the stranger’s dick, sucking him off in earnest as she bobs her head up and down the length of him. Never quite as deep as the first swallow, but she moves as far down his cock as her new pace will allow. Occasionally feeling the head teasing the back of her throat. Fingers entangle with her hair as she reaches a hand to play with his balls, squeezing and massaging them, his groans have gotten louder, testicles drawn tight. He has to be close, she wants her reward for a job well done.

“I’m gonna cum…fuck…” He warns and she pulls back for a second, gently clenching the base of her cock between her fingers to help stop him from shooting his load right that minute.

“You want to cum on me or in my mouth?” She gives him his options and he whines, she expected to be the one tossed around and fucked raw, but it’s becoming more obvious she picked out a guy who’d rather be bossed around a bit. Even if it’s not what she was looking for, she’ll take it, happily.

“Can’t fuckin’ think right now,” he groans, “just wanna cum, please.”

“On your face and tits,” Johnny says, low and husky, making it clear he has no trouble making a choice. Though, judging by his cock still being tucked away in his leather pants, he’s not quite as cum-brained as her hookup.

And after a moment of considering Johnny’s request, Aidan wraps her lips around the man’s dick and gives a hard suck, letting go of the pressure around him. He groans as he cums directly down her throat, hot heavy spurts of it on her tongue. She swallows every last drop, not letting any of it touch her face or chest.

“Bitch.”

She swallows the last bit, grinning at Johnny’s insult, as she strokes the stranger through the last of his after shocks. Aidan stands up, she’s still in her panties, now soaked through with slick. She turns to face the bed, her ass now to Johnny and her hookup, allowing them a view as she purposely bends over to peel her panties off. Allowing both men to see her slick aching cunt; panties in hand, she turns back to face them. And she tosses them at Johnny with a devious smirk, to the unnamed stranger, she threw them to empty chair. But her and the ghostly anarchist, within their own reality that exist merely due to a chip in her head, her panties landed in his lap. His hand grabbing the wet black silk and wrapping them around her fist.

She’s not sure how it works, far from a techie in her knowledge, but she can see him interact with objects. From smoking cigarettes to leaning his weight against whatever he sees fit, after all if he couldn’t interact with anything in the physical world he’d phase through the chair, floor, and everything around them. But to everyone else it’s not seen, the objects just laying flat and useless.

The stranger’s hand grasps her hip, in her personal space within the moment, having stroked his cock back to full erection.

“Want me to return the favor?” He offers to eat her out and she’s surprised at the heat that rushes up her cheeks, despite just slobbering on his cock the question makes her blush.

“Let him do it,” Johnny says with a drawn out groan, her panties still in his hand as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock out, “wanna see you get licked.”

Would have though he’d have learned by now, she’s not interested in fulfilling his requests.

“Fuckin’ really,” he curses out at the thought, realizing he won’t get what he wants from her and he can’t do anything about it. His voice is edged and sharp, a hint of anger.

“Appreciate the thought, but I need you in me, bad. That okay?”

“Sounds good, I got a condom in my jeans, give me a second.” He starts to rifle through his abandoned jeans and jacket, Aidan clenching her thighs as she waits, she’s finally about to get what she needs most.

“He’s not gonna fuck you right.”

She tries hard not to audibly groan at Johnny’s words or watch the slow drag of his hand over his cock. Then she notices the black fabric he presses against himself, using to jerk himself off, her panties. Aidan likely deserves that, but she’s more distressed over the way it makes her insides clench than worries of the fabric. Though given what he is, she’ll probably find them virtually untouched later.

“I’m serious, Samurai, he’s not gonna give you what your after. He’s too soft for you, can’t fuck you the way you need.”

Shut up, Johnny, she rolls her eyes letting the sentiment ring out in both of their minds.

“Got it,” her date, if you can call it that, returns with condom in hand, she takes it from his hand.

“Lay back on the bed, I’ll take care of everything,” she tells him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and god if she wasn’t so desperate the words could have dried her up quicker than the Sahara. Even when she wants control, that is not a nickname she cares for. Johnny laughs when she wrinkles her nose.

“Told you so, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that,” she says to both to her hookups earnest slip up and Johnny’s condescension.

“Sorry,” her hookup offers as moves to straddle him, her back to his view.

“It’s okay, we’re strangers, don’t know everything about each other.” Her voice is a little kinder as she rolls the condom down his length, listening to the little inhales of air as he feels her touch.

“Hmmm, wouldn’t be nicer with someone who does, someone who knows it all, someone in your head.” Johnny has moved, zipped, to stand at the foot of the bed. So, he can watch her more clearly she assumes. His cock and her panties are still in his hand.

She ignores him, instead moving to hover over the stranger’s cock, letting the head just tease her slit open. Aidan whimpers and whines, unable to help it at the feeling of being stretched open as her weight comes down slowly onto his dick. Inch after inch sliding into her, pressing at her deepest parts. Despite some kinks misaligning, he fits nicely inside of her, helping scratch the itch.

“A nice dick don’t mean anything if they don’t know how to use it,” Johnny taunts again, his gaze is hot on her skin, “I know everything you’ve been wanting, everything that you dream of that gets you going and makes you whimper, and I know for a fact this guy isn’t gonna give it to you.”

‘Fuck off’ she mouths the words, despite knowing he can just hear her think them, she starts to bounce herself on the stranger’s cock, chasing her pleasure as she fucks herself on him. But she doesn’t miss how Johnny starts to stroke himself faster, nearly matching the pace she’s set for herself.

“Might as well be ridin’ a toy.

“Fuck… you feel so good,” the man beneath her groans just as Johnny starts to mock his prowess.

“Good? That’s all he’s got is good?”

“Fuck…”

Aidan closes her eyes, trying to shut out the image of Johnny if nothing else, while both men’s voices ring out, audible even over her own whines of pleasure, she tries to focus on how good it feels to finally be full. Bouncing her ass harder as she rides the stranger’s cock, hoping somehow the smack of flesh against flesh, the creak of a bed could drown them both out.

“Bet your tight, a wet little vice wrapped around his cock.”

“Fuck…faster please…”

“He’s probably already close, feeling the way you stretch around him, watching the desperate little way you fuck yourself on his dick.”

“Hnnnn, fuck..”

The two men’s voice go back and forth, a mess in her head, an overwhelming mess where Johnny’s words edge her further but the noises of her hookup stir up guilt, how could she get off to him being shamed? How could she get off on Johnny’s taunts and teasing, why does every word he say stoke a fire deeper inside of her, make her wetter, and push her closer to edge. While the man she’s actually fucking only seems to set her back on that journey.

Johnny isn’t real. She tries to tell herself, not physically, he only exists to her. Aidan should focus on what real and here and beneath her, but everything draws her back to the phantom in her head.

Despite how close she is, she can’t cross the precipice, a wall built up in her core that won’t let her cum. That tension in her stomach refuses to snap, refuses to allow her the pleasure, the rush of endorphins, she’s been so desperate for. She fucks herself up and down as hard as she can, the smack of skin hitting skin echoing, and she’s sure she’ll bruise herself in her desperation. Tears of sheer frustration build in her eyes, why can she just fucking cum?

A hand cups her face, flesh and warm, vaguely slick with sweat or precum, she doesn’t know. But Aidan opens her eyes, looking straight up at Johnny. His dark brown eyes look down at her, dark hair falling into his face.

“Take out your hearing aids for me?” For once his voice comes with a little upward inflection, insinuating a question and not a demand.

“Huh?”

“I want to be the only thing you hear right now.”

And this time she listens, throwing one quick look over her should at her hookup, his eyes closed and head tossed back in the pillows, lost in the feeling of her around him; Aidan gently pulls out her hearing aids and the world goes quiet. No more sounds from him, not even the faint whirr of the fluorescent lights, or the slap of flesh.

“Good girl,” Johnny says, his voice ringing out as clear as ever, for it comes from her own brain. The praise makes her clench and whimper, the kind of attention and names she likes best. He leans his forehead to hers, his hair tickling her face.

He’s not real, but he feels real. She feels his skin, hears his voice, can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. And she feels metal fingers, cool as they pushing against her slick cunt, finding her swollen clit with ease. She whines, as he rubs her, stroking friction against her nerves.

“So fucking wet, you’ve wanted my hands on your for a while, haven’t you?” He teases, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Yes,” she lets him hear it in voice and thought.

“He may be inside you, but I’m the one who’s gonna make you cum, you got that?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” she whimpers, fucking herself and grinding against Johnny’s fingers. Every bounce and rub of his fingers pushes her closer to the edge.

“Who’s gonna make you cum?”

You, Johnny. She thinks but doesn’t dare say it, for fear of the man beneath her hearing, even in the throes of pleasure, she needs to be rational, Johnny isn’t real and if she starts screaming the name of a ghost while she cums…

“Say it, out loud,.” His fingers slow their movement, nearly stopping their motion altogether, his threat clear and she fucking needs this.

“Johnny!” Another hard rub before she’s finished the first syllable and his name becomes a scream, the tension snaps, the bubble of pleasure pops, and she’s overwhelmed by her pure euphoria. Toes curled and squirming she finally finds her release, cumming around the man inside of her, mind going blank for a moment.

Then the fog in her brain starts to lift, aftershocks coming and going, she can feel the condom bloated with cum inside of her…. Johnny is laughing, chuckling a rich and warm sound, and oh god she said his name.

Aidan puts her hearing aids back in, clenched in her sweaty fist this entire time, trying to do so quick enough that it isn’t noticed and she can catch anything he may say.

“…ohnny?”

She catches the very end of it and oh no, oh no. Johnny’s still laughing.

“Hmm, didn’t quite catch that, something wrong?” She tries to act nonchalant, like she just missed it, as she pulls herself off his cock. The emptiness makes her whine, but she may need to detach herself from this situation as soon as possible.

“Who’s Johnny?” He asks again as she turns to face him on the bed, the stranger’s eyebrow raised. He doesn’t seem mad, just genuinely confused.

“Yeah, who’s Johnny?” The old rockerboy says, smirking and how he can look so cocky with his dick still hard and out, she has no idea. Why is she even thinking about his dick, she catches herself, that’s oh lord.

“Uhhh, why do you ask, who said anything about a Johnny?”

“You did, loudly, while you came.”

“Uhhhh….”

“He got you there.”

“Look,” the guy says, smiling kindly, “like, if you’re hung up on some other dude, it’s cool, like you said, we’re strangers. But, uh, if you’re thinking that much about this Johnny guy, you should probably just like talk to him about it.”

“I’m not hung up on, Johnny, I assure you.”

“Hmmm, debateable,” Johnny taunts and she’s gonna rip this fucking chip out of her brain if it kills her.

“Say what you want, but I clearly wasn’t the guy on your mind tonight.”

“Hard to compete with the guy who’s in her mind.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess, sorry…”

“No worries,” he says and she’s continuously thankful he can’t hear Johnny’s snide ass remarks, “I’m gonna grab a shower then head out, rooms already paid for if you wanna chill here.”

And her one night stand gives her a friendly tap on the shoulder, like they’re bros and his dick wasn’t just inside of her, then heads to the motel bathroom. Aidan collapses on the bed, face flushed and struggling to accept the mess of a night.

Then a weight settles over her, Johnny suddenly straddling her sternum, knees on either side and pressing into the bed before he sits his weight fully on her. His cock is still hard and leaking, has been the entire time, now smearing precum hot into her skin.

‘The fuck are you doing?’ she mouths, glaring up at him.

“What no love for the guy you’re so hung up on?”

The shower starts up in the background, which should block out the sound of her talking to the ghost currently stroking his dick over her tits. The head flushed red and his pace quickening, he’s been shifting pace back and forth this entire time, no doubt he’s close to bursting.

“I fuckin’ hate you, you know that?”

“I know for a fact you don’t,” he groans beneath his breath, as his cock twitches in his hand, “besides, told you where I wanted to cum.”

“Y-Ahh!”

He curses beneath his breath and she yelps as it hits her, cum splattering across her chest and face. It certainly feels real, hot and thick across her breasts and chin, salty when her tongue swipes away a drop that hit her lip. But no one else but her and him would ever be able to even see it…

Images of being able to walk around Night City filled and covered in his cum, with no one else even knowing flicker across her mind.

“You’re not even pretending to hate me anymore, are you?” He’s grinning wickedly, face flushed beneath the dark scruff of his beard, long hair sticking to his forehead. And she can’t find in her to disagree.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #have i been kicked out of the fandom before the game comes out?#okay cool

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