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julemmaes · 3 years

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Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin month day five #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic

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libraryofsouls · 4 years

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jealousy meter - masked slasher edition

masked slashers jealousy hcs + how to quell their anger.

Asa Emory / The Collector

controls his temper really well but the vibes he gives off just screams murder.

if you’re being hit on, he’ll step in before ushering you behind him. sarcastically asks the stranger if they needed anything.

if they're persistent, asa will get more ....uncivil by the minute. he won’t start a fight though.

if they touch you - he’s going to be PISSED. now it’s personal. he’ll waste no time in prying their filthy little fingers off you.

again, he won’t start a fight but he’ll have any notable features memorized so he can deal with them later on.

rating: 8/10. won’t publicly fight anyone but this man holds grudges. touching you = stuffs them in a trunk for his own twisted amusement. might even show it off to you if he’s feeling particularly immoral.

solution: distract him. cling to his arm and take his attention away from the poor idiot who tried flirting with you. not usually a fan of pda but he’ll have an arm around you for protection. no amount of sweet-talking will stop him from abducting the creep later on though.

Brahms Heelshire

unsurprisingly gets jealous of the only other person you get to talk to.

who takes this long to drop off some groceries? why can’t he take a bloody cheque and just fuck off already?

somehow, in some way, he’s going to figure out how to get that fool out of the house without being seen.

was he... hitting on you? gasp! THE NERVE-- starts breaking objects in other rooms. scatters rat corpses all over the man’s car.

brahms will either be grabby hands at you as soon as you’re alone or just stubbornly keep you in his arms until you make him feel better.

rating: 10/10. hates it whenever the grocery boy drops by, especially when he’s blatantly checking you out. especially if he’s still breathing. AWFUL tantrums during and afterwards.

solution: praise him while showering him with affection. hold him tight and tell him how much you love him. kisses make his anger melt away fast. let him glue himself onto you until the next week or he’ll get upset.

Bubba Sawyer / Leatherface

thinks he’s not exactly ideal boyfriend material and he knows how much you prefer not being a cannibal.

big boy sad. initially gets mad when he sees someone flirt with you, but he’s plagued with insecurities. maybe you wanted someone normal and nice-looking. maybe you’re sick of living with the sawyers.

snaps out of it if he sees you uncomfortable. bubba is quick on his feet! don’t worry he’ll save you!!! literally saws the man in half.

creeper? dead. meat? acquired. yee? haw. he’ll quickly check to see if you’re okay. doesn’t quite understand if you freak out on him.

chainsaw go brrr. bubby doesn’t hold grudges and he’s not mad at you or ...whoever this guy was! he’s a simple man: he sees a problem, he saws it in half.

rating: 5/10. not above keeping you in a room to avoid unwanted attention. just gets sad and insecure a lot. tries to “save” you from everyone.

solution: just as easily swayed. please keep reassuring him otherwise he’s just going to keep tearing himself down. usually just reminding him how much you love him will work but why not give him some extra cuddles while you’re at it?

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

very possessive. confident in himself and your relationship but gets an ego boost every time he successfully adds to his body count.

he sees a threat, he eliminates it. simple as that. jesse has more patience than the rest but his violent tendencies tend to get the better of him.

very observant so he’s most likely already blocking you from a creep. uses his towering figure to lowkey cover you. what is he doing, you ask? oh nothing, dear. pets you.

if they still stupidly pursue, he’ll be an asshole about it. “exit’s that way, pal.”

if a stranger tries to reach out for you - it’s game over. let’s just say he might not care if his partner has a weak stomach.

rating: 10/10. bathes in the blood of your fallen admirers. if he feels especially sinister he’ll let them live to pour salt on their wounds. snogs you in front of them after he’s broken both their legs.

solution: literally nothing. jesse’s just the type to kill people for fun. trying to reassure him would just feed into his ego.

Jason Voorhees

believes that his protection is the only thing he can offer you so if he happens to fail at that, he’s going to blame himself for the longest time.

if you’re within the stranger’s reach, alarm bells are rapidly going off in his mind. too close. they might hurt you. silently hopes you run away.

they might not even be able to get a word out honestly? being tackled by jason voorhees probably feels like being hit by a train.

if he’s somehow preoccupied with other trespassers and found you a bit late, he’ll see red as soon as he discovers a horny trespasser had been harassing his beloved!

full speed ahead! all aboard the jason train!

avoids killing in front of you if possible. at the best of his days he’s still questioning why you even stay with him. you’re not afraid of him now but you might change your mind if you see him off someone with his bare hands. it’s a risk he’s not willing to take.

rating: 7/10. similar to bubba, he often tries to “save” you from everyone. he’s also got a lot of insecurities himself so he might keep you in his cabin as an absolute last resort.

solution: heavy dose of TLC. jason’s indifferent towards verbal affirmations - he’s seen people lie all the time. the best way to reassure him is through actions: holding him, mending his clothes, helping around the camp, etc. it’s the little things that have the biggest impact on him.

Michael Myers

the most possessive out of the bunch. stalks you all the time because he’s mike myers and that’s what he does.

hates people and tolerates you at best. people around you though? ick. talking to you and smiling at you? disgusting. doesn’t even smile at you himself, but it’s not like you expect him to. and that’s why you’re his tolerable little thing.

flirting with you? VILE. he’s already made his way inside the premises. mikey is going to back this person into a corner and take his sweet time.

also stalks anyone you meet regularly. don’t be surprised if they rant to you about the harmless but unsettling encounters with a “masked man.”

you are not free from michael’s wrath. he’s going to mark you up in any way he can. if he’s feeling especially territorial he might even show up maskless at your workplace to “pick you up.” (cue him rawing you in the nearest restroom.)

rating: 100/10. AWFUL. he’s gone off the charts, folks! all you need now is a leash and a collar and you’re all set. luckily this hasn’t crossed his mind yet.

solution: bold of you to assume he’s doing this for you. you better believe mikey’s just doing this for his own satisfaction. this man is simply a asshole and nothing can stop him.

Thomas Hewitt / Leatherface

middle man tommy is both insecure and possessive, but he does genuinely care about you. unlike bastard hands mcmike.

very similar to bubba. he’s haunted by his insecurities and believes well in the fact that others can offer a lot more for you than he can.

he won’t jump in with the saw right away, but he’ll immediately come to your side. just kinda stands there and looks as menacing as possible, just silently daring them to try something.

he’ll make sure to put himself between you and the stranger. if they persist then he’ll get to the wrangling. won’t kill them if hoyt isn’t around but won’t let them go unscathed either.

lowkey gets clingy after the ordeal. you need to be in his sights now at all times. won’t keep you around the gore but he’s always within earshot.

rating: 9/10. more likely to keep you in a confined space for safekeeping. you’re too good for this world and tommy’s not about to let anybody hurt you.

solution: very similar to jason, he needs a HEFTY amount of TLC. more actions instead of words. would probably get emotional if you whisper sweet nothings to him though.

Vincent Sinclair

very insecure and would bend over backwards for you. doesn’t get possessive but worries you’ll get tired of him.

he’s also going to convince himself that you’re much better off with a “better-looking” boyfriend that can give you a normal life.

if a victim starts flirting with you, he's already close by, listening intently. wax man sneaky. he’ll knock them out mid-conversation and pull them away from you. saves them for last so they can watch all their companions get waxed.

if they touch you though, he’ll jump in and disembowel them in two seconds flat.

either way - he’s not going to turn them into wax figures. please don’t ask him why. he’s too ashamed to admit his jealousy.

rating: 6/10. stews in his own insecurities and sulks a lot. only time he’ll get angry is if someone touches you inappropriately - then he’ll get extremely violent.

solution: keep him company. seriously, you don’t even need any sort of activity. just do your own thing in the basement while he works on his art and he’ll be more at ease. (but he also enjoys random kisses throughout the day too, he’s just too shy to ask.)

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when-they-write-stuff · 4 years

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Oh, Alpha of Mine for @staffofoppression

pairing: sterek

word count: 9.8k

warnings: minor violence, language

tags: full shift!werwolves and alpha!stiles stilinski

When the alpha came for him, it was at the library.

Stiles had always thought that when his time came it would either be because he ate too many curly fries, challenged Erica to an ‘all-stakes’ game of truth or dare, or accidentally got himself killed after pissing off a vengeful witch or something.

He always thought he’d either die in an idiotic or a heroic way. But dying at a library had never occurred to him. Stiles didn’t want his dad to find his body surrounded by chemistry books and empty water bottles, attempting to work through the homework that Harris had assigned to them weeks ago.

Though, Stiles really didn’t want his dad to find his body at all. But then he made the mistake of grabbing a stack of boring books, finding an isolated corner in the library, and then accidentally falling asleep.

When Stiles woke up again, the lights had gone off. It took him a long moment to realize that he’d slept straight through closing hours and clearly, the librarian hadn’t bothered to make sure no one was tucked away in one of the library’s corners.

Stiles blinked a few times and then groaned. He hadn’t gotten anything done. Harris was going to give him detention for a month at least.

He pulled his stuff together and moved around, putting the books back where he’d found them. Rubbing a hand over his face, Stiles slung his backpack over his shoulder and glanced around one more time, before shaking his head and starting out of the building.

Maybe he could get Lydia to hand over a few answers. She was the only person Stiles trusted with his grade after all.

The library parking lot was empty and silent. The moon was nearing full and Stiles shivered, tugging on the neckline of his sweatshirt. He was pretty sure he deserved to sleep through this entire coming weekend.

That’s when he heard the growl.

Stiles froze and whirled around, squinting against the darkness. He couldn’t make much out other than the shadows, but then one moved and he froze, staring at glowing red eyes that peered out at him. He chucked nervous, shifting from foot to foot.

“Derek? Okay, dude, you’re hilarious, so incredibly funny. Stop being a creeper and come out here, would you?”

For a moment, nothing moved. But the alpha did and it definitely wasn’t Derek.

Stiles froze.

The man was tall and strongly-built. His eyes glowed bright red in the night and there was a cruel smirk dancing along his lips. Stiles retreated a step back, heart leaping into his throat, and tried not to immediately panic.

“You’re not Derek.”

“And you’re not the werewolf I came looking for.”

Stiles blinked dumbly at him. The alpha’s smirk widened.

“But you do smell like him, though, don't you? It clings to you like a stench. I didn’t come out here searching for the Hale alpha’s bitch, but that’s what I’ve come across, isn’t it?”

Stiles straightened. “Wait, what? You’re looking for Derek?”

“I was.”

“Was. Implying that now you’re…”

“Not.”

Stiles thought it was a pretty good thing he’d stocked up on books. Because before the werewolf could react, Stiles pulled his backpack off and threw it at the werewolf with all of his strength, making the man grunt in surprise and stumble backward. Stiles turned on his heel and ran, making for his jeep as fast as he could. And he very nearly made it.

Very nearly. But not near enough.

A hand wrapped around his ankle before Stiles could yank the driver’s door open and suddenly the world was tilting sideways. He hit the ground hard, tasting blood and seeing stars as his skull cracked against the asphalt. Stiles groaned and he was flipped onto his back, a pair of claws touching the underside of his neck. His breath caught in his throat and he froze.

“Running from me, Little Red?”

“What the hell do you want with Derek?”

“Do you know how an alpha werewolf challenges another for their territory, boy?”

Stiles groaned again. “Oh my god, that’s what this is? Werewolf politics?”

“It can be done many ways,” the alpha continued, undeterred by his response. “A challenge for pack leadership. A duel. Or by proving one’s power and taking away something the current alpha loves.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Stiles said. “But the only thing Derek loves is his Camaro.”

The man blinked, tilting his head slightly. He was listening to his heartbeat, Stiles realized. He shifted and smirked with bloody teeth.

“So terribly sorry, but you’re not getting anything out of killing his token human. At least, nothing to hurt Derek with.”

“Then that doesn’t make you very useful then, does it?”

Stiles’s blood turned to ice. The alpha’s eyes bled to red again and he snarled, face shifting. Stiles squawked and squirmed again as the man raised a clawed hand, struggling to get loose.

He managed to wrench his leg free, driving his foot into the alpha’s stomach. The man howled, stumbling back, and Stiles scrambled up, making for his jeep again.

He knew there was no way he was escaping by car. Instead, Stiles grabbed his baseball bat from the passenger seat and went retreating backward, swinging as hard as he could as the alpha leaped forward, all fangs and teeth.

It connected against the man’s side and he pitched sideways, snarling again. Stiles backed away a few more steps, raising the bat behind his head again. The man straightened and sneered, eyes glowing.

“Of course. The boy who runs with wolves defends himself with a baseball bat. Has no one ever told you to go with something more practical?”

“Come a little closer,” Stiles said. “I’ll show you practical.”

“You amuse me. I almost hate having to kill you.”

“I’m not here to be amusing, asshole.”

The alpha leaped forward again and Stiles swung. Since his last attempt— and failure— to take a werewolf out with a baseball bat, Stiles had upgraded. He now lugged around a grade A metal baseball bat that was always coated with wolfsbane. Scott hated it, refusing to be around when Stiles brought it along. But Stiles thought it was a pretty good investment.

He especially thought so now.

The bat cracked against the man’s outstretched clawed hand and he roared, yanking it into his chest. Stiles took that moment to swing at his head full force. There was a sicking noise of metal meeting bone and the werewolf dropped. Stiles flailed back, suddenly feeling sick.

For a moment, he just stared.

The werewolf was still. The faint tang of blood filled the air and Stiles stared at him for a moment before cautiously creeping forward. He clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to hurl at the sight of the man’s skull; he didn’t think it should look like that. Blood matted the man's hair and his skull was slightly deformed. Closing his eyes for a second, Stiles debated calling his dad or one of the pack members, and tried to think of his back-up story.

He… he could call his dad. And see the shock in his eyes followed by the inevitable disappointment. He could call Scott, but Stiles was terrified to see how the boy would react to the body currently lying at Stiles’s feet. He could call Derek, maybe, but that might—

Suddenly, there was a pair of claws sinking into his ankle.

Stiles screamed and tried to yank away but they sank in deep, curling in through flesh. For the second time that night, Stiles found his feet yanked out from under him and his back cracked against the asphalt, pain cutting through him like a knife. The alpha loomed over him, eyes bright and manic. Another cry cut from Stiles’s lungs as the claws yanked out of his leg and sunk into his shoulders, pinning him against the asphalt.

“The boy who runs with wolves,” the man snarled, blood staining his teeth and lips. “Did you think you could kill me? Did you really think you could kill an alpha?”

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, clawing at the hand twisting in the flesh of his shoulder. He tried to yank it out but the alpha only laughed.

“I’ll tear you to pieces and use that as a challenge to your pathetic alpha. Think he’ll scream too? When I rip out his throat?”

Stiles managed to pull the claws out of his shoulder, eyes snapping open again. The man only sneered, reaching for his throat instead. Stiles used both hands to keep the claws from meeting the fragile flesh of his neck, heart pounding against his chest.

The alpha’s eyes flashed brighter. Blood dripped onto Stiles’s skin and pooled on the ground around him.

He turned the man’s hand with a crack and this time, it wasn’t Stiles who screamed. Before the alpha could even react, Stiles was shoving the man’s claws forward and yanking them sideways. Straight through the werewolf’s neck.

Blood splattered across his face.

Stiles barely felt the weight that collapsed on top of him. He managed to roll to the side only seconds before he was dry heaving, grateful for the first time that day that he’d forgotten to eat since breakfast. He gagged and choked out broken sobs, pain wracking through his entire body and making him see stars. He couldn’t breathe right. His throat was too tight and he could feel blood staining through his sweatshirt.

He couldn’t— he couldn’t—

Stiles could already hear the sirens. Could see his dad’s terror and feel the cold metal of handcuffs as they wrapped around his wrists. Scott would never speak to him again. The pack would turn him away. Stiles would be nothing but a killer and a disappointment and he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

Stiles rolled the body off of himself and stumbled to his feet, terror crashing over him in waves. He couldn’t call his dad. He couldn’t call Scott.

There was a body at his feet. Mangled, bloody, and broken. One that looked less and less human by the second and soon, Stiles was looking at the body of a wolf. A red furred wolf, with blank eyes and teeth still bared in a snarl.

It was the body of a werewolf that Stiles had just killed. That hit him like a punch to the gut over and over again. Stiles had just killed a man. A werewolf. An alpha.

His stomach flipped. He spun around again, heaving into the asphalt.

The rest of the night was a blur. Stiles stuffed the body— the wolf— blooded and torn into the back of his jeep. He broke down in the driver’s seat, gathered himself back together again around dawn, and left the parking lot behind before anyone else could show up.

His entire body hurt. His head was spinning. He couldn’t breathe right.

Stiles dumped the body in the preserve. Then he attempted to throw up two more times. There was blood in his jeep, blood on his clothes. Covering his skin and drying underneath his nails.

There was blood everywhere.

Stiles came home to an empty driveway and went upstairs to scrub away the evidence in a broken haze.

Because he’d just killed a man.

Derek recognized when something in Beacon Hills changed.

It was a change of scent in the air at first. He sat straight up, turning his nose into the air, and realized it was something beyond his pack. The handful of werewolves curled up not five feet away, all wrapped around each other, the colors of black, gold, and grey pelts melding together, hadn’t moved. It wasn’t the smell of wolf, but that of cinnamon and autumn leaves. Soured by terror.

Derek turned his nose toward the door and sat still for a moment. The scent changed, heightened, and then all but vanished.

There was nothing left.

Derek didn’t find it easy to fall back asleep that morning.

“Hey, kid?”

Stiles blinked a few times, buried in his covers. His dad leaned against the doorway of his room and Stiles was awake in a second, nearly spilling out of bed. He caught himself at the last moment and ran a hand through his hair, blinking a few times.

The occurrences of the past night filtered through his head slowly. The library. The alpha. The blood. The blood. The blood.

Cold terror curled through Stiles’s stomach as he looked at his dad, wondering if his secret was already out.

“Y… yeah pops?”

“We got a call early this morning,” the man said, eyes sweeping over Stiles’s face. Once more, he was almost too terrified to even breathe. What if there was still blood on his face? What if he hadn’t cleaned it all off?

“Oh?”

Stiles was surprised his voice wasn’t shaking.

“A jogger found a body out in the preserve,” the man said, nodding. “Wolf. Brutalized. It was bad. I don’t know if this is something on… your side of the world or not, but I figured I should say something in case any of you try to get involved.”

“Try to as in we shouldn’t?”

“Try to as in I want to know if any of you do.”

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded, hating the relief that coursed through him. He managed a smile even though he was pretty sure his dad would know it was fake. “Sure, pops, we’ll let you know. That’s all part of the agreement, right?”

Stiles knew his dad still struggled with the supernatural side of things. When he’d first found out about Derek and Scott, it had been Stiles’s promises to never keep another secret that had kept the man from packing their things up and just leaving altogether. He’d made a promise and up until now, he’d been determined to keep it.

His dad nodded. “Part of the deal.”

Stiles felt worse.

The moment the man left, Stiles was on his feet again. He locked the door and then stripped off his clothes, moving toward the mirror. A single glance showed a pale body clean of any marks; there was nothing. No claws marks marring his shoulder, no torn-up ankle. Stiles had been covered in bruises and scars yesterday but now, it was like it had all been a bad dream.

Stiles wished it had been a bad dream. He wished so hard it had been nothing but a nightmare.

He also knew better.

Stiles sank to the floor, pulling his knees into his chest. He was trembling all over, he realized. When did it happen? When did things start?

Could he kill someone else? Could he hurt his dad?

Stiles tried to take calm, deep breaths and focus on when Scott had first started to change. Two years ago, Stiles’s best friend had gone through the same thing and he’d been fine. Occasionally furry, yes, but fine.

He… he’d just needed an anchor. Scott had Allison. Stiles needed an anchor.

His father?

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. Opening them again, he gazed into the mirror. But nothing changed. Nothing about his features shifted. Something twisted in his gut and Stiles swallowed a shout of anger, shoving himself back up.

He pulled on clothes quickly. The last thing he wanted was to be caught by Scott, Derek, or one of Derek’s betas. They’d smell his change in an instant, wouldn’t they? Stiles couldn’t help but remember how quickly Scott had smelled Isaac’s change. He just had to keep them at an arm's-length until he figured things out. He could do that.

He could do that, right?

The knock on his window startled Stiles right out of those thoughts. He had just finished pulling on a shirt and spun around to see Scott waiting outside of his window, head tilted slightly.

Stiles’s heart stopped. His first thought was ‘he knows.’

Still, his feet moved on their own accord. Stiles crossed the room and carefully pulled his window open, letting the boy in.

Scott shifted his feet and gave him a long look. Stiles braced himself, waiting for the comment on his change of scent, the confused look Scott was bound to give him, dread coiling in his stomach as Stiles glanced down involuntarily at his hands, seeing phantom blood still coating his fingers.

“Stiles?”

“... Yeah, Scotty?”

“It’s Allison.”

Stiles’s eyes snapped back up. He stared blankly for a moment and then blinked again. Scott ran a hand through his hair and began to pace the room, a blur of words spilling out of his mouth. But Stiles was too shocked to understand them. The longer he started the more he realized there was something… different about Scott. The boy smelled like gunpowder and the faint hints of female perfume. It all clung to him like an invisible aura and Stiles found himself shying away from it, his skin itching at the overwhelming scent.

Suddenly, Scott stopped. The boy blinked at him and Stiles snapped back to reality, blinking a few times.

“Sorry, what?”

“Bro! What am I supposed to do?”

Stiles continued to stare. Suddenly, Scott leaned forward and sniffed, and Stiles went stock-still again, his heart pounding even harder against his chest. Scott’s brows furrowed together and the alpha tilted his head.

“Have you been around Derek’s pack lately?”

“No, why?”

“You smell different.”

“... How?”

Scott wrinkled his nose and pulled back, shaking his head. “I dunno. Bad, strange. Different. Like when Derek used to come over a lot.”

Stiles felt like he’d been punched. He nodded silently and Scott shrugged, returning to his ramblings. Stiles swallowed hard, glancing back toward the window and when he snapped back to reality, Scott was looking curiously at him again.

Stiles blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“Dude.”

“I didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Stiles said quietly. He kept waiting for the ball to drop or for Scott to realize there was something different. Something wrong. But it never happened. “Maybe just talk to her?”

Scott’s face brightened. He moved across the room and clapped Stiles on the shoulder, nodding. “I’ll do that!”

“Great, dude,” Stiles said, forcing a smile. He watched as Scott pulled himself right back out the window and then sunk onto the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands.

He just had to figure things out. That’s all he had to do.

Stiles felt like he was breaking apart.

Derek was awake late into the next night. Every time he tried to close his eyes or take a deep breath, he was struck by the feeling that something was wrong. Something had happened. And it was like an itch underneath his skin that he couldn’t scratch.

Something was wrong. Derek just didn’t know what.

He found himself giving up on sleep around two in the morning and wandering into the kitchen. As he made himself a cup of coffee, figuring he might as well just not sleep at all, the sudden scent of terror and pain flooded through his nose.

Derek froze, a packet of sugar half-tilted over his mug. His eyes bled to red and tracked around the room as he slowly turned around, scenting the air. For a long moment, he couldn’t smell a thing. Nothing other than his pack and uncle, that was.

Then there it was again. Derek stepped out of the kitchen to see the loft door wide open and— his heart stopped. A pair of red eyes blinked in. But the wolf was full shift, an unfamiliar scent crashing over him. Except at the same time, some part of it was familiar. Some part of it Derek did recognize.

His blood turned cold then. The alpha growled.

“What have you done to Stiles?”

The wolf snarled again, raising its hackles. Derek snarled right back, his fangs slotting down although he didn’t shift himself. Instead, he studied the wolf in front of him. Tawny-brown fur and amber-red eyes. Fangs that gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the windows and the faint scent of Stiles clinging to the air around it.

Derek’s stomach twisted. He snapped his teeth, glaring.

“What the hell have you done to Stiles?”

And then the wolf was taking off. Away from the loft, racing down the hallway. Derek didn’t even give himself a chance to think before he was moving after him. Shedding his human form as his paws hit the floor. He thought he heard Erica’s faint sleepy voice but Derek didn’t pause, racing after the wolf that vanished down the stairs and out of the loft.

The cool night air was crisp and fresh. Derek stretched out his limbs for the first time in weeks and raced after the wolf; it was heading for the preserve, he realized. Derek tore after it, determined not to let the alpha escape.

If Stiles was hurt-- if something had happened to Stiles--

Derek was pretty sure he would rip the alpha’s throat out. He knew that Stiles had never committed to his pack and there was nothing holding the boy down, but Derek would kill anyone that ever dared hurt him. And this wolf reeked of Stiles. The scent of the boy bled off him in waves. And Derek was terrified to linger on what that meant. That Stiles was hurt or worse.

He didn’t remember the last time he’d been on a chase. But the wind sung in his ears now and the darkness bled around them. Derek knew the preserve much better than the other wolf, he could already tell. It ran blindly.

It was heading toward the Hale house.

Derek caught up before they reached the porch. Springing forward, he tackled the wolf to the ground and snapped his teeth right above its throat. The alpha whined, kicking out useless limbs, and Derek locked his teeth around the wolf’s shoulder.

It barked a cry of pain then. And as blood filled his mouth, Derek’s senses flooded with one word.

Stiles.

He was yanking back in a second. The wolf snarled and leaped for his throat but Derek moved back even more and they circled each other. He looked into amber eyes and realized that he recognized them. Recognized them outside of the dark red color. There was a whiskey tint hidden from sight. One that Derek would recognize anywhere.

But that couldn’t be— that shouldn’t be—

The wolf snarled at him, baring bloody teeth. Before it could leap forward again, Derek threw back his head and howled. The sound struck through the night, startling a nearby owl, and the wolf growled for a moment before joining in with a broken sound.

When Derek looked forward again, there was a naked boy curled up in the leaves. Stiles’s shoulder was stained with blood and he was shivering, eyes squeezed tightly closed as he muttered unintelligible things Derek couldn’t catch.

But it… it was Stiles. It was Stiles.

It was his Stiles.

Derek shifted back and just stood there for a moment, staring. Blood ran in rivets down the boy’s chest, dripping to the leaves, and Derek didn’t know what to do. He could still taste it on his tongue. Could still smell the scent of Stiles— wrong— Stiles— in his nose.

Stiles’s eyes suddenly snapped open, staring unseeing as the boy cried out a soft ‘Derek’ leaving his lips. And then Derek was moving forward, scooping him up and wincing as Stiles cried out again.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t answer, head lolling against Derek’s shoulder. His heart beat too fast and the more Derek concentrated on his scent the more he realized it was Stiles. Stiles with a touch of something else; iron and electricity. Power.

Alpha power.

Derek’s heart lodged in his throat and he realized he was terrified to linger on that thought. Instead, he turned away from the Hale house and started the long walk back toward the loft. Stiles only stirred in his arms a few times, letting out quiet whimpers whenever he did. It struck Derek to the core every single time.

He didn’t… he didn’t… he didn’t know when this had happened. When was the last time Derek had pulled himself through the teenager’s bedroom? During the Alpha pack attack, he thought. Before they’d defeated Deucalion. Before Stiles’s father had been taken.

Months ago.

But he thought— he hoped— he would have known about this sooner. It couldn’t have been months ago. Derek had realized something was wrong not two days ago and Stiles— Stiles should have come to him.

A pit formed in his chest as Derek realized Stiles hadn’t come to him. Had the boy been too afraid? Too stubborn? It was Stiles, so Derek supposed it could be either.

Had Scott known?

There was a werewolf in his arms. Stiles Stilinski; an Alpha werewolf. The once ‘boy who ran with wolves’ was now a wolf himself. Derek’s stomach twisted. Stiles had never asked for it. The bite. And Derek had never even considered offering it because he knew Stiles’s stance on being bitten.

Some part of him didn’t think this had been a choice at all. And that only made Derek feel worse.

He got back to the loft within the hour and the betas were waiting for him. Derek took one look at their shocked faces, eyes flitting from him, to Stiles, and back, and knew this was a conversation for tomorrow. When Derek’s shirt wasn’t covered in blood. When Stiles didn’t smell like he was dying.

When the boy was conscious.

This was a conversation for tomorrow and Derek was kind of terrified for it.

Stiles remembered trying not to go to sleep.

He paced his room and then turned on Netflix, going through shows he had already seen a million times before. When he felt his eyelids growing heavy he groaned and pushed himself back up to go downstairs and get a snack.

If he didn't fall asleep, he figured nothing could happen. His dad was on a night shift so Stiles was free to keep all the lights on and do everything he could to stay awake. Because Scott’s first days… he’d gone straight to his anchor, hadn’t he? It’d been an Allison stalking spree. But Stiles was determined. Determined not to hurt his dad, determined not to lose control.

He had settled back on the couch and tried turning on the TV. He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must’ve.

Because when he woke up again, he was in an unfamiliar room.

Stiles was awake in a second. He sat straight up, the blankets catching around his legs as he flailed sideways out of the bed. He heard the sound of footsteps, was overwhelmed by a scent of aftershave, mint, pine, and then there were careful hands trying to pull him back up.

Stiles was shifting in a second, eyes bleeding red and fangs slotting down. And he felt it. Every single change, every single new addition. The sounds around him were too loud and the scents crashing down on him over and over again were too much. It hadn’t been like this yesterday. Stiles hadn’t experienced any of this yesterday.

It was too much.

He didn’t realize he was fighting back until Derek’s voice reached his ears. The man pinned him down, shouting his name over and over again. Stiles stopped fighting and felt his fangs slide away again, like a slight itching of his gums.

He blinked back tears. Derek’s grip loosened and the man’s face shifted back to normal too.

“Stiles, I need you to breathe for me. Can you breathe for me?”

“What the hell is happening?”

“You’re adjusting to the change,” Derek said. “It'll take some time. Days, weeks, months. But you need to keep your heart rate down right now.”

“No,” Stiles said, shoving the man off and scrambling up. He retreated until his back rammed against the wall and then stared at him. “What the hell is happening? I’m… I’m at the loft. Why the hell am I at the loft? How did you know?”

Derek’s brows furrowed. “You came here last night.”

Stiles stared at him. He didn’t remember that. He didn’t remember anything past blinking tiredly at Star Wars reruns on the TV and trying to drown himself in mugs of coffee. He remembered seeing Anakin cutting someone’s head off and then nothing. Darkness.

Fear gripped him like a fist around his heart. “My dad. Derek, my dad.”

“Your father is fine,” Derek said. “I called him this morning and said you spent the night at the loft.”

“Did you tell him?”

The man raised a brow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Did you tell him why?”

“That’s not up to me to do, Stiles.”

“He can’t know,” Stiles said, shoving himself up. “No one else can know. I can mask it, Derek, I can keep it secret. My dad can’t know, Scott didn’t realize, no one else can—”

“Wait," Derek said, cutting him off. “Scott doesn’t know?”

“And he won’t.”

“But he’s seen you. Since the change?”

Stiles’s mouth went dry. He swallowed hard and nodded slowly, and Derek’s face went through a number of different expressions. Stiles was surprised that when the man’s eyes bled to red, he didn’t feel the shivers he normally did. This time, instead, he wanted to get closer. He wanted to leap at the man’s throat.

He wanted to prove to him who the real alpha was.

Stiles whimpered at the back of his throat and shook his head. He couldn't— he shouldn’t— these weren’t his thoughts. This wasn’t his head. Stiles wasn’t a killer.

“Stiles?”

Derek’s eyes were normal again, but Stiles still wanted to know how much it would take to make the man submit. He stumbled away, out of the bedroom, and out into the rest of the open loft.

There were no betas in sight. But Peter lounged on the couch and the moment Stiles saw him, he straightened. The man’s scent hit him in a rush; thoughts of smoke, ash, death, and... and… beta. Pack. Part of him.

Stiles gagged, racing toward the kitchen. He could’ve sworn Peter was grinning.

Stiles shuffled through all the shelves of the refrigerator, grabbing some of the first things his gaze landed on. By the time he turned back toward the counter, he had an array of the oddest things in his arms. Derek came in after a moment too, raising an eyebrow at Stiles’s choices of food.

Stiles glared at him. “I’m hungry.”

“I know.”

“Like, starving hungry, dude. I need sustenance.”

He could’ve sworn there was the hint of a smile tugging at the man’s lips but Derek only nodded again, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. “I know.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s a werewolf thing.”

“It’s werewolf thing.”

Stiles snarled and dropped everything on the counter. Abandoning his loot, he shoved past Derek and flipped Peter the bird, stalking straight out of the loft. He could’ve sworn Derek called his name but Stiles ignored him, trying to shove down the array of scents, sounds, and feelings that continued to hit him over and over again.

He felt like a stranger in his own body. He felt like he was doing something wrong.

He didn’t feel like he was the real one in his head.

Stiles made it outside and swallowed the urge to throw back his head and scream. Or maybe howl. His fingers curled into fists and after a moment, Stiles felt a slight stinging followed by something warm sliding down his skin. He heard the steady ‘drip drip’ and glanced down to see his nails had sliced straight through his palm.

Stiles swallowed a cry, his claws shooting back into his nails. As he watched, his skin stitched back together, and it looked so wrong.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder. Stiles spun around, claws coming right back out, and pinned Derek against the outside loft wall. The man grunted, face tightening in pain, and Stiles’s heart leaped into his throat as he realized his claws had buried deep into his shoulder. He made a strangled noise, stumbling backward again, and Derek started to move forward.

Stiles raised his hands, blood on his fingers.

“Don’t, Derek, oh my god, please don’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to—”

“Stiles,” the man said, cutting him off. “I know.”

Stiles just shook his head again. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go home like this but he also clearly couldn’t stay around the loft. He had to go somewhere far away. Maybe he could leave Beacon Hills or lock himself up somewhere deep and dark. Away from all of those he could possibly hurt.

Stiles felt sick. His head spun and his throat constricted. He ran his fingers through his hair and whined— actually whined— feeling the urge to maybe run or change or shift—

“Stiles!”

Stiles looked sharply back up. Derek’s eyes had turned red again and Stiles knew from first-hand experience that would often make the betas submit. But he didn’t feel a single urge to back down or flash his throat. Instead, he snarled and flashed his own eyes and to his surprise, Derek moved back a little, the red bleeding away from his own.

Stiles blinked a few times, dropping his gaze to the ground. He was trembling, he realized. But before he could even react to that, Derek was stepping forward and there were careful fingers underneath his chin, tilting his face up.

“Stiles, you’re okay. You hear me? You’re okay.”

“I don’t feel okay, Derek.”

“I know,” the man said. “But you’re in control and you can keep it. Okay? Tell me your anchor. Have you figured that out yet?”

“M-my dad, I think. I don’t know, I haven’t tested it out yet, I can’t stop the shift from happening—”

“Hey,” Derek said, cutting through his panic again. Stiles looked up, meeting the man’s firm gaze and this time, it was human. No red, no bleeding, no alpha-voice or shifting expressions. Just Derek. Derek and his grey-green eyes, locking on Stiles’s like they were determined to keep him in place. Stiles breathed out shakily and focused on that, on them. On Derek and his gentle touch underneath Stiles’s chin, keeping him steady where he stood.

“It's okay, Derek. I’m okay.”

“Are you?’

“I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Derek said quietly. “It’s going to be overwhelming for the next few days. But if you can, I’d like to know how it happened. How long, how many shifts you’ve gone through, how much you remember.”

“Nothing,” Stiles said. When Derek looked confused, Stiles ground his teeth together and glared at the ground. “It happened two days ago. I don’t think I shifted at all the first night and I wasn’t planning on doing so last night. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Derek’s face softened with what could only be called pity. Stiles hated it.

“I didn’t want this, Derek.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be this.”

The man visibly flinched a little at that. Stiles figured he should feel bad— because wasn’t this Scott’s same reaction when he’d been turned? Stiles had always been on the outside looking in. He’d never understood exactly what the boy was going through. But suddenly, Stiles felt like he was being thrown through a loop. He wasn’t an outsider anymore. He wasn’t the token human or the ‘boy who ran with wolves’.

Stiles was a wolf. He’d never wanted to be a wolf.

It was going to kill his dad.

“Let me guess, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, attempting a smile. “The bite is a gift?”

The man’s face didn’t change. “You killed an alpha. Didn't you?”

Stiles felt sick all over again. He closed his eyes and realized he’d started to tremble again. His stomach twisted and churned as he remembered the deformation of the alpha’s skull. The blood that had dripped from his lips and the feeling of ripping the man’s throat out with his own claws.

Stiles had killed the alpha. It was that or him.

Maybe it should have been him.

“Stiles,” Derek said quietly. “I need you to talk to me.”

“No,” Stiles said. “I uh… no, Derek. Not now. I need somewhere to stay and I need to be far away from my dad. The full moon is coming up and unless I have control by then, I can’t go anywhere. Not anywhere that he might be.”

Derek looked sad. But still, the man nodded, and Stiles risked meeting his eyes again. The grey-green and smell of warmth. Of pine.

His head felt a little more clear. Stiles swallowed hard. “Can I stay here?”

“Of course.”

“Even with the betas?”

The man nodded quietly. Stiles offered a small smile and hesitated before ducking back around him. He was terrified; there was no lying about that. Stiles was truly and utterly terrified and he had no idea what was coming. But he knew he had to figure things out. He had to keep his dad safe. Stiles had to keep his dad safe from himself.

That was a terrible, terrible thought.

Stiles didn’t like being left alone with Peter.

Derek left to ‘clear some things up with Deaton’ which Stiles also didn’t like the sound of. But he hated it even more because now he was left with the Creeperwolf himself, glaring every time the man even dared breathe.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with them being left alone.

The werewolf kept giving him calm, smirking looks and Stiles hated it. He fixed his eyes straight ahead and refused to look back. Refused to retaliate. To even acknowledge the Creeperwolf’s existence at all.

Peter broke the silence first.

“So, alpha.”

Stiles hated him. “Shut up.”

“Oh, you’re sounding more and more like Derek as time goes on.”

Stiles snarled at nothing, feeling a bit of fang poking at his lower lip. He quickly tried to force it away; thinking about his dad. About the tired, exasperated face he always got when Stiles was up to new mischief. The way the man used to hold him close and talk him through nightmares after his mother’s death.

Stiles focused on those things as hard as possible. But it was only when Peter’s voice caught his attention again and Stiles thought about how he wished Derek was here to kill his uncle, that he started feeling calm again.

The other man was watching him in amusement, head tilted a little. “Looks like you nearly lost it there, Stiles.”

“What, do you want me to kill you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be your first.”

Stiles flinched violently. He curled his fingers into the couch cushions and debated ripping Peter's throat out just because. Surely Derek wouldn’t miss his uncle that bad. Peter chuckled.

“Relax, Stiles, I’m not going to try and provoke you.”

“Oh, that’s not what this is?”

“You’re more on edge than usual,” Peter said, shrugging. He clasped his hands behind his head and relaxed back into his chair, throwing his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s unnerving.”

“Well, excuse me for being a little anxious about all of this.”

“It’s not like it’s much new,” Peter said. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man and Peter smiled, all teeth. “Don’t tell me you haven't seen it before. Who do Derek’s betas go to when they need a shoulder to cry on? Who does Derek turn to for the big decisions? Certainly not Scott. Consider this as an upgrade with improved healing and fangs, not a new status.”

Stiles continued to stare. He’d like to say he understood a single word that had just come out of the man’s mouth but that would be a lie.

Peter rolled his eyes. “I wonder how you’re still alive sometimes, Stiles.”

“Sheer luck.”

“Clearly.”

Stiles grunted and turned his eyes away again. He tried to focus on anything else. The holes in the wall, the irritating crack that cut off mid-way across the ceiling. The bookshelf full of old authors that Stiles couldn’t believe Derek would be caught dead reading. The scents of the betas clinging to the furniture, the scent of home that seemed to suffocate him, the feeling of being watched—

Stiles glared back over at Peter. The man smirked.

“You’re adjusting.”

“I’m about to commit murder.”

“Again?”

“Shut the hell up,” Stiles hissed. He felt his eyes bleed to red, felt his claws sharpen and dig into the couch cushions. But Peter only looked more amused. And more… hungry.

It hit Stiles like a punch then.

“You want it,” he said, words a snarl. “You want the alpha spark, don’t you?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“What,” Stiles said, shoving himself up. “What’s your game, huh, Creeperwolf? How do you want this to go? Wait, let me guess. You rile me up, get me mad, I lose control and attack, right? Then it’s only self-defense. Derek can’t kill his last remaining family member for protecting himself.”

“You fail to understand what Derek would do for you.”

Stiles snarled. “Shut the hell up.”

“What, am I lying, Stiles?” Peter rested his hands on his chest, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t look perturbed at all, even at the way the air had changed so quickly. “You can hear my heartbeat now, alpha. Tell me if I’m lying. Listen real hard and tell me it’s a lie when I say that Derek would kill anyone who touched a hair on your head.”

Stiles was across the room in a second, catching Peter by the neck and pinning him to the wall. The man’s eyes flashed bright blue but he only grinned wickedly, delight in his expression. Stiles snarled, flashing his own eyes red. “I said shut up.”

“But it feels good, doesn’t it? The strength, the power. There is nothing I want to take from you, Stiles, but even if I did, Derek would hunt me down and rip my throat out for a second time if I did. But you know I wouldn’t. You can feel it, can’t you? The pack bond.”

“I don’t want any sort of bond! Especially to you.”

“Your wolf has already decided against that, Stiles.”

Stiles tightened his grip and watched his claws start to poke at the tender flesh of Peter’s neck. It sent him back two years when Stiles was the one in this position. Dragged off of the lacrosse field, leaving Lydia to bleed out. A pair of claws underneath his chin and the whispered threats of a maniac in the night.

Peter seemed to read his thoughts because the man’s face tightened. “I was out of my mind.”

“I could kill you,” Stiles said. “Kill you for everything you’ve done.”

“Well, Deucalion did agree that was the best way to gain power.”

Stiles’s throat tightened. He came snapping back to himself like a rubber band stretched too far, the anger and rage dissipating. But before he could make a move, say another word, the door behind him slammed open and the scent of metal, perfume, anger, came flooding into the loft.

Stiles yanked away from Peter, stumbling back. When he turned around, Scott was looking at him in horror.

“Stiles.”

Stiles stiffened in panic. Crimson bled into his best friend’s eyes and Scott stalked forward, anger on his face.

“You are different. You have changed. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t want—”

“You killed someone!”

Stiles flinched like he’d been slapped. But before he could react, Peter was stepping between them with a snarl on his lips. It wasn’t aimed at anyone except Scott, though, and the boy blinked in confusion at that.

“Peter, move.”

“I'm afraid I can’t do that.”

Scott scowled, looking at Stiles over the man’s shoulder. “Does your dad know?”

“You can’t tell him yet, Scott. You can’t tell him.”

“He could be in danger!”

“I’m learning to control it!”

“Oh,” Scott said. “Like you obviously controlled it with Peter? You were about to kill him!”

Stiles swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have… I wouldn’t...”

“Scott,” Peter said calmly. “I suggest you leave.”

“There’s not room for three alphas in Beacon Hills,” Scott said, ignoring him. Stiles stared.

“What do you want me to do then?”

“Get rid of it.”

“I can’t just get rid of it, Scott! Don’t you think I would have done that if I could?”

Scott just clenched his jaw. Stiles felt a little weak, like he wasn’t quite sure how much longer he could stay upright. This wasn’t losing control, he didn’t think. It was losing hope. It was losing his best friend.

“Your dad needs to know,” Scott said, retreating back. “And you need to stay away from him, and me, and Allison. Until it’s gone. Until you’re better.”

“So it's an infection then?”

“It isn’t you.”

“I didn’t ask for it, Scott! You’re the exact same!”

“I earned what I have,” Scott said, a snarl in his voice. He was still backing away. Making for the doors and Stiles was almost terrified to let him leave. Scott would tell his dad and his dad would never forgive him for keeping another secret. “I earned mine and you stole yours.”

Stiles didn’t move. Didn't say a word. Scott reached the door, turning around, but paused a moment more. When the boy turned back, his expression was almost piteous.

“I just want to do what’s best for you. You’re my best friend, Stiles. My human best friend.”

Not anymore.

But Stiles couldn’t get the words out. And then Scott was gone.

Stiles’s knees buckled and he hit the floor hard. Because this wasn’t losing control, he thought. This wasn’t losing his hold. This was losing a pack.

And it felt like Stiles had lost a limb with it.

Derek gave the betas permission to come back to the loft later on that day and showed up before they did. The first thing he noticed was the assault of scents; the pain, the anger, the despair. The second thing he noticed was Peter lounging on the couch and the terrifying emptiness of Stiles.

Derek straightened. Peter glanced up from his book, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s about time you’re back, nephew.”

“Where the hell is Stiles?”

“Currently?” Peter glanced back down at his book. “Curled up in your bedroom dealing with the loss of his best friend and previous alpha. Well done telling him about Stiles’s shift, by the way.”

“I didn’t—”

“He wasn’t very happy when he showed up.”

Derek stared for a moment. The only person he’d gone to was Deaton and… oh. Of course. Derek ground his teeth together and scented the room, but couldn’t find any traces of blood. So there hadn’t been a fight, at least.

“What happened?”

“Mr. McCall doesn’t seem to appreciate his best friend becoming a murderer to attain an alpha spark.”

“We don’t even know what happened.”

“No,” Peter said. “We don’t. Because you keep failing to talk to the boy, Derek. He’s not going to retain control forever, you know, if he can’t even rely on his own anchor.”

“He refuses to see his father.”

“I wasn’t talking about his father, Derek.”

Derek blinked in confusion at the man but Peter didn’t even glance back up from his reading. With a small growl, Derek stalked past and moved into his room. It was cracked shut and when he slowly moved inside, he saw a bundle curled up on the bed. It didn’t seem to be moving but Derek could smell the scent of Stiles and hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

He moved across the room carefully, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. Stiles didn’t move.

“Stiles—”

“It feels like losing a limb,” Stiles mumbled. Derek flinched. “That’s what your uncle had told me. I never understood it until now.”

“I should have realized Deaton would let Scott know.”

Stiles pushed down the covers and peered at him. The boy’s eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale. He smelled sick, even though Derek knew that’s not what it was. Stiles searched his face and then shook his head. “He’s going to tell my dad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My dad is going to hate me.”

“No, Stiles,” Derek said softly. “I don’t think he will.”

“I lied to him.”

“He’ll forgive you.”

“He shouldn’t. Not again.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. Then carefully, he slipped into the bed next to Stiles and looked gently at him. The boy didn’t move. He just looked tired.

“I’ve kept more secrets that I can count,” Derek murmured. “I didn’t… I never told Laura about Kate. I couldn’t, not after the fire. I couldn’t tell her that the death of our entire family had been my fault.”

Stiles’s eyelashes fluttered. Derek swallowed hard.

“But I like to think she would have forgiven me. Laura loved her family and her pack more than anything else. She never would have anything hurt them. She would have made a good alpha.”

“I didn’t want this, Derek.”

“I know, Stiles.”

“He was going to kill me.”

Derek tensed. Stiles’s scent changed, turning even more sour, and the boy didn’t meet his gaze. He smelled wrong. He smelled guilty.

“He came here to challenge you. For territory or leadership… but he found me instead. He said things, Derek. And then he tried to kill me.”

Derek stayed quiet. Stiles looked nauseous, eyes looking blankly at nothing.

“I ripped his throat out with his own claws.”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

“I don’t want my dad to hate me, Derek,” Stiles said brokenly. “I don’t want Scott to hate me. I was so scared. I thought the pack would be angry. I killed a man. I killed someone.”

“You protected yourself.”

Stiles flinched. “Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

Derek’s chest hurt. He wanted to pull the boy into his arms and brush gentle fingers through his hair. He wanted to tell Stiles that everything was going to be okay. He was going to be alright. But instead, he laid there quietly and watched Stiles break in front of him, feeling more helpless than ever.

The silence reigned for a moment. Then Derek wet his lips.

“Do you know what happened? During your shifts?”

“I don’t remember anything.”

“Your wolf,” Derek said quietly. “It’s beautiful, Stiles.”

The boy’s amber eyes searched his face. Derek wasn't used to Stiles being the one to read his heartbeats but after a moment, Stiles’s face softened a little. “I don’t want to hate it.”

“It might take some time.”

“Derek?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles studied his face and then lowered his gaze again.

“I don’t think my dad is my anchor.”

“Is it an emotion?”

“No,” Stiles said quietly. Derek blinked and studied his face, but Stiles was very firmly avoiding his gaze now. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch the boy’s face, focusing on the question at hand instead. His thoughts went to Scott for a moment, but that clearly wasn’t it. Derek remembered Lydia then. And he hated how his heart sunk a little.

“Stiles, do you know what your anchor is?”

“I think so.”

“Can you tell me?”

“I don't know," the boy said softly. "Would it be okay, Derek? If it was someone other than my dad?”

“Of course.”

“Even if it was someone who might not want it?”

Derek furrowed his brows, studying the boy. Stiles finally looked up nervously, searching Derek’s face once more. Quietly, Derek nodded and Stiles wet his lips.

“I might need you around, Derek. Through all of this, if that’s okay.”

Derek looked blankly at him. Stiles dropped his gaze again.

“If that’s okay.”

Then it hit him like a truck. Derek didn’t know how to react for a second but at the same time, his wolf was howling for joy. Stiles smelled terrified and Derek finally gave in to his earlier wants and pulled the boy in close, gentle fingers tracing along the back of his neck as he tucked Stiles’s face into his chest.

Stiles tensed for a moment and then sighed, relaxing into the embrace. If possible, that made Derek’s chest grow even tighter. He wanted to hold the boy close and never let go. There were thoughts spinning through his mind of Stiles, mine, and alpha and Derek just closed his eyes, holding him close. Letting Stiles tremble against his skin.

Stiles’s breaths were warm on his chest. Derek turned his face into the boy’s hair and inhaled deeply before nodding.

“Me too, Stiles.”

Stiles startled. Whined softly. And then went lax. Derek held him a little tighter.

And just for a little bit, nothing else mattered.

When Stiles woke up the next morning, the bed was empty. He blinked up at the ceiling a few times, the events of yesterday hitting him like a sledgehammer, and then he groaned, turning his face into the pillow. It still smelled like Derek; aftershave, mint, and pine.

Alpha, right, and his.

Stiles closed his eyes and took a trembling breath. When he finally shoved himself up and ran a hand through his hair, plodding out of the bedroom, he went stock-still to realize the apartment was not empty.

The betas were back, looking at him with wide eyes. And standing behind them, standing next to Derek, was his father. The man looked a little sad and a little tired. But it was him. He was here. Stiles faltered back.

“Dad?”

“Hey, kiddo.”

Stiles was moving before he could stop himself, crashing into his dad’s open arms and wrapping his hands around his neck. He buried his face into his shoulder and just let the feelings and scents crash over him. The smell of burnt coffee and old car and floor cleaner. The smell of the Sheriff’s office and every scent he carried of home. Stiles let that relax him and bring him down from the edge, nearly melting into the comfort of it all.

“I’m here, Stiles,” the man said softly. “I’m here, kiddo.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing you have to apologize for.”

“I killed a man,” Stiles said, pulling back. “Dad, I killed someone. I killed them and things are different now and I know Scott said I should stay away but—”

“Hey,” his dad said, cutting him off. “You have nothing to apologize for Stiles, do you understand me? I prefer my son in one piece and I swear to god, I would have killed the man myself who dared try and hurt you. The only thing that matters is you’re alright. You’re still here.”

“I’m not alright anymore, dad.”

One of the betas whined. Stiles flinched.

“I’m sorry I lied.”

Once more, he was being pulled close. Stiles closed his eyes and swallowed hard, tracing careful fingers over the back of the man's neck. It felt right, somehow. Stiles didn't want him to ever smell different.

Stiles pulled back only to find himself being wrapped in a different pair of arms. Erica, tracing his nose over Stiles’s collarbone. Isaac whining softly as he wrapped himself around Stiles’s back. Boyd moving closer with a small smile on his face.

Everything from yesterday slowly died away. The pain, the loss. Stiles found his chest growing full of everything here that was right. Comforting.

It felt like home.

Stiles met Derek’s gaze over Erica’s shoulder and the man nodded once, arms crossed. Stiles met his dad’s gaze then, as the man’s eyes went from him to Derek, and then back. He’d been so terrified of what he might see in his father’s eyes. The anger or pain or disappointment. But the Sheriff’s eyes only crinkled and he nodded too, and Stiles nearly melted into the floor.

He was safe here. He hadn’t felt safe since the alpha attacked and Stiles had been pretty sure his entire life was ending. Even if he hadn’t been killed, he’d seen the endpoint from there.

Something in Stiles’s chest felt like howling. His eyes flickered red and he closed them softly, not to block away the light. Only to drink up the comforts around him more.

Warmth, safety, home.

Pack, family, his.

His.

Stiles stood on the edge of the preserve and gazed out at the fading sun, waiting for the full moon to slowly rise. Blood thrummed in his ears and nerves itched underneath his skin and he fought the urge to turn and run away every time it hit, keeping his gaze fixed firmly ahead.

Derek stepped beside him, one hand gently covering the back of Stiles’s neck.

“You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

"It’s going to be alright.”

“I know,” Stiles said, turning to look at him. “I’m not worried about that.”

The man raised an eyebrow and Stiles felt his face grow warm, turning to face the horizon again. The coming darkness called to him like a hand around his heart and tugging. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed in deep, feeling all the scents around him.

He’d never known how much he was missing. All the things he’d never noticed before. Derek’s fingers flexed on the back of his neck.

“You’re gonna be good at this.”

Stiles smiled, eyes flitting over to the man's face. “Well duh, dude. I have my anchor with me.”

The man chuckled. The very sound made Stiles’s heart leap. He leaned into Derek’s touch and let the man guide his head sideways, foreheads touching together. Stiles closed his eyes and just smiled, red glowing behind his eyelids. Derek shivered a little. “Alpha.”

“Mine.”

“Yeah?”

“Mine,” Stiles said again, moving forward to brush his lips against Derek’s. “And yours.”

“Mine.”

“Alpha.”

Derek smiled against his lips. In the trees behind them, the sound of distant but familiar howls filled the air and Stiles felt the grip around his heart tighten. The pull grew stronger. He shuddered and felt fangs sliding down, nipping lightly at Derek’s lower lip. The man laughed, drawing back, and then Stiles was letting the shift take over.

Soon, he was looking at a giant black wolf with blue eyes. Stiles grinned all teeth and nipped at him before taking off with a loud bark, ignoring the growl at his back. He made for the preserve, the greenery blurring around him as he raced toward the pull of the moon.

Scents washed over him. Dirt, running water, his distant pack. The moon, the falling dusk, the distant sound of his dad’s car running as he waited on the edge of the preserve. Derek, the giant black wolf loping next to him.

Warmth, safety, home.

Pack, family, his.

His.

Alpha.

It was all his.

- -

Okay, so I had so much fun with this one. Alpha!Stiles is a new writing place for me but I adore it. I hope I did the prompt justice! You’re all amazing <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your struggling student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writeryouc

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #full shift werewolves #ficlet #alpha!stiles #alpha!derek #werewolf stiles #all the angst and comfort #staffofoppression #derek x stiles #awesome sheriff stilinski #prompts #commissions #anti scott mccall #kinda?#he's just not the best

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justahopelessssromantic · 4 years

Text

My Bad!

A/N: @mayans-girl I’m so sorry I lost your request as I stupidly deleted the post to resubmit it after I was having difficulties with the site. Regardless here it is for your request for another member hitting on you and Coco gets pissed. Thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy and a big thank you to everyone for reading! ❤️

Also shout out to my twinnie @starrynite7114! Thank you so much for helping me brainstorm and work out the idea. You truly inspire and motivate me everyday! 💕

*gif not mine*

Warming: Angst and some fluff

The music was thumping around the clubhouse as one of the famous Mayans MC parties was in full swing. The place was packed with members from charters all over who came by to celebrate Santo Padre’s charter’s rise to the top.

You had just split off from your Old Man to find yourself a drink leaving him to chat with Oscar from the Stockton charter. Weaving through the people you smiled at the familiar faces when your phone buzzed from the back pocket of your tight jeans. Slipping it out you stopped and leaned against the railing of the steps that led into the clubhouse making sure that you were off to the side and out of the way.

Your phone lit up with a new message from your half brother Miles. You haven't seen him in forever and tried your best to find him throughout the years with no such luck. The two of you had been seperated after the death of your father, thrust into the system to fend for yourselves. Now after so many years later he had found you and reached out.

You practically raised him growing up. Your mother's were no shows throughout your lives leaving you with your drunk of a father. You didn't blame them for leaving him but you did always resent them for leaving their children alone with that man. You did everything in your power to protect him from your father's rage, help him in his schooling, to keep him alive. You were the mother he never had and the mother you never got.

You smiled reading the message from him saying he couldn’t wait to see you again tomorrow. You were so excited and had a day full of events planned out for your reunion. Coco knew how important this meeting was for you and was even helping you make all the arrangements. He was just as excited to meet the brother he had only heard childhood tales about but most importantly he was happy for you to have your family back. Just like him you had had it rough. If anyone deserved some sliver of real family to hold on to it was you.

You sent back a quick ‘me too’ before slipping the phone back into its resting place. Whipping around the railing you bounded up the stairs and into the building in search of that drink you were after in the first place. The room was filled with people, it seemed as if literally every Mayan was here as the whole place was just bursting at the seams with men in the leather cuts and then on top of it you had the friends and families of members all there as well. You made your way through the cloud of smoke, past the table where Bishop and Taza were involved in a round of poker blowing them a kiss and sending them a wink before sliding up to the bar. You landed on a simple beer smiling and thanking Chucky before heading towards the back hoping to sneak out where it would certainly be a little less packed and quiet to catch some air.

Slipping in and out of the crowds rather smoothly, this wasn’t your first rodeo, you were just about to your destination when an unknown man from the Spokane charter who was leaning against the wall caught your attention.

“If I knew the woman in Santo Padre were as sexy as you I would have stopped by a long time ago,” He grinned bringing his lit cigarette up to his lips inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke out towards you as his eyes raked up and down your figure.

You rolled your eyes internally giving him a tight lips smile. One of the problems with big events such as these was that not everyone knew who you were. At least at the smaller gatherings it was well known that you were Coco’s Old Lady and he, your Old Man. You were just about to correct the man opening your mouth when he practically shushed you. Now you were pissed.

“Nah baby,” he purred, “Save that pretty little voice for all the screaming I’ll be having you doing tonight.”

You scrunched up your eyebrows looking to the ground as you gathered your thoughts. Bringing your head back up you tilted it slightly crossing your arms with your beer up, “Does that line ever work? Like do some girls actually respond well to that, to you?”

“Careful what you say bitch,” he snarled, pushing off the wall as you crushed his ego with your few words. Most men were the same as him, insecure and trying to make up for their tiny packages with tough guy acts. “Do you even know who I am?”

You scuffed snickering as you kept your gaze dead on his eyes not backing down as he got in your face, “Do you even know who I am?” You asked with just as much arrogance as him, “I’m Johnny Coco Cruz’s fucking Old Lady. Yeah the man who could put a bullet through your brain even in this crowded room without you even knowing what’s coming.” You smirked as you saw the realization and fear flash in his eyes before he recovered quickly. “You’re lucky he can’t kill one of his own,” you continued with a threatening tone, “Now I suggest you call it a night before that pretty little voice of yours gets you in any more trouble.” You took a swig of your beer all while remaining uncomfortable eye contact with him before spinning around and heading out the back door as you were intending on in the first place when that jackass so disrespectfully interrupted you.

You were staring at the screen of your phone, your now empty bottle sat on a pile of cinder blocks beside you as you scrolled through your feed more annoyed than anything now. You hated when drunk assholes hit on you but it was even worse when it was one of Coco's brothers even one from another charter.

Miles saw you standing there with your back turned to him. He chuckled to himself as he snuck up behind you. He knew you'd be here as he knew you were dating a member from the Santo Padre charter but he wanted to surprise you with his new cut. You were his rock growing. Everything you sacrificed for him wasn’t lost on him. More than anything he wanted to make you proud.

Sneaking behind you, the jumper cabled your sides just like he had when you were young. You helped jumping away from the shock causing your phone to slip from your grasp and onto the hard rocks beneath you. Bending over you cursed under your breath picking it up and dusting off the screen. Straightening up you whipped around expecting to find Coco fully ready to tear him a new one. Your mouth dropped as you found your not so little anymore younger brother, not Coco, standing there before you. He had changed so much throughout the years but you still recognized those dark eyes of his and could picture those chubby cheeks he had.

"Oh my God," you gasped out, "Miles?" You instinctively pulled him into your arms hugging him tight, "What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, pulling back just enough to give yourself a better look at the man he had become, "And what's this?" You asked, pulling at his cut, "You're prospecting?" You grinned meeting his eyes once more. You were so incredibly proud of him.

“Yeah, Spokane charter,” he replied proudly, “You look really good.”

“And you look so…. big,” you laughed still shocked by the sudden surprise.

“Well I’m not that eleven year old kid anymore.” He chuckled, taking you in just as much as you did him. The moment seemed so unreal, almost as if it was a dream.

“Shit I have to pee,” you said feeling all your drinks hit your bladder seemingly at once, “Don’t go anywhere. I will be right back.” You scurried off in the direction you came from stealing one more glance back to check that he really was there before heading into the door to find the bathroom.

Coco was shooting the shit with Angel, Gilly, Creeper and various members from all over as they had a smoke. The sky above was dark, almost back with the stars sparkling like diamonds as a cool breeze blessed them with some relief from the usually unbearable heat.

One of the men from the Yuma charter approached the group directing his words straight to Coco, “Hey man some fucker from the Spokane charter was hitting on your girl hard. Being real disrespectful. She shut him down but I thought you should know. So you can set him right.”

Coco threw his cigarette to the ground stomping it under his boot. Patting the man on the shoulder as he stomped past he thanked him ready to find that asshole with Angel, Creeper, and Gilly on his tail.

He made his way into the clubhouse asking around when someone pointed him in the direction of the back. He knew that was your favorite place to go to get some solace during hectic events such as this. From what it sounded like the man was out there with you ruining your peace and Coco wasn’t having that.

Busting through the door he met eyes with the prospect from the Spokane charter. He was leaning against the fence beer in hand. Now Coco was fuming. A fucking prospect had disrespected his Old Lady. The kid had a lot of learning to do but he couldn’t do it here, he had to take him to the ring, do it right and use him as an example for any other fucker who thought they could talk to his woman like that.

“Yo prospect! I heard you were saying some real nasty shit to my Old Lady,” Coco snarled, stepping down the steps slowly Angel and Creeper close behind as Gilly stayed by the door.

Miles looked at him confused. He had talked to a lot of women during the night but couldn’t recall flirting with a single one of them. He was mostly too busy being ordered around and given chores. “Look man I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you have the wrong-”

“I suggest you stop talking,” Creeper interrupted him standing next to Coco, “You ain’t getting yourself out of this now.”

“Come on prospect,” Coco spat out, “We settle this in the fucking ring.” Gilly came down the steps meeting up with Creeper and taking the prospect with them towards the ring giving him no room to protest.

Coco looked over at Angel, “Find my girl. Let her know what’s up,” he requested of his best friend, “She’s not gonna wanna miss this,” he smirked. Giving each other a nod Coco set off in the direction of the cage ready to kick some ass.

“Yo (Y/N),” Angel called out, swaggering up to you exhaling a puff of smoke as you excited the clubhouse to the back expecting to find your brother, “I’ve been looking all over for you. If we don’t hurry we’re gonna fuckin’ miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“Coco’s getting in the ring. Gonna show that asshole who was hitting on you his place.”

That must have been where your brother went, to watch the fight. You grinned at Angel, happy someone had noticed and that the guy hadn’t listened to you hanging around despite your warning. “Well what the hell are we standing around here for then?”

Following his lead the two of you headed towards the ring. You loved the cage, your favorite part of these parties was watching the fights, and you especially loved watching your Old Man get in the ring. Something about watching him take out another, bare chested with his tats on full display, covered in sweat and blood really turned you on. To top it off he’d be giving that asshole a good beating. Let’s just say Coco was going to be a very lucky man tonight.

The sound of the crowds cheering got louder and your adrenaline was pumping as you approached the ring. Angel shoved his way past the people gathered around making a perfect path to get you to the best spot. The fight was in full swing, you had missed the first portion of it and were a little disappointed but once you saw Coco and he made eye contact with you briefly a grin on his face you forgot all about it.

“Fuck him up!” You screamed eating up every moment, the smile never leaving your face. You turned your attention to the other guy and that’s when your smile fell as your eyes went wide. Coco wasn’t fighting the guy who was hitting on you earlier. He was fighting your fucking brother.

From what you could see Coco was in the lead, looking a little better than Miles. The two men were circling each other, arms up, waiting for the other to strike first. Leaning up against the cage you grabbed onto the metal calling out to Coco. Against his better judgment he turned to look at you expecting to find your gorgeous smiling face but instead was met with your terrifying scowl.

“That’s not the guy,” You screamed at him over the noise. He furrowed his brow looking at you.

“What the hell do you mean?”

“That’s my fucking brother!”

Turning back to face his opponent he could now see the resemblance although it was too little too late. While he was distracted your brother took the opportunity swinging a brutal right hook to Coco’s jaw the moment he turned back around.

The crowd erupted in cheers and jeers. The men who had bet on Coco clearly disappointed in the events that played out before them.

You gasped watching him fall to the ground wincing along with him from the hit. He looked up making eye contact with you glaring as he rolled his jaw spitting out blood.

You grimaced giving him your best apologetic look as you yelled out, “My bad!”

That night you ended up starting your family plans early with you patching up both men in your living room. Letty was so kind to assist you working on Coco while you took care of Miles. You all chatted getting to know one another bonding over the events of the night. Thankfully there were no hard feelings all around from the misunderstanding.

“You got quite the fuckin’ right hook, hermano,” Coco complimented Miles as he held an ice pack to his jaw.

“Yeah he really did a number on you Coco,” Letty teased as she pulled out an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit.

“Hey I had the fight up until (Y/N) distracted me,” he chuckled smiling at you, “I guess I learned where your real loyalty lies.”

You shook your head laughing lightly as you began stitching up your brother, “Blood is blood,” you teased back playing along.

Miles chuckled along hissing as you stitched up the cut on his cheek, “Thanks man, you throw a mean one yourself.” He flinched away hissing some more as you reached the middle of the cut, “Clearly.”

“Stay still,” you scolded leaning in closer to get a better view.

“What do you say next time we take down that fucker together,” Coco suggested as

Letty dabbed at his face causing him to wince.

“Deal.” Miles grinned. He liked Coco. He was a good match for you and had seen first hand just how far he was willing to go in your defence. All he ever wanted for you was someone to defend you and take care of you like you had for him all those years.

“Excuse me but I think I handled him just fine,” you said interjecting on their plans. It had already been tried once and this is where it ended, with your brother and man beating each other to a pulp.

“Of course you did mami,” Coco smirked over at you as he lit a joint taking a drag and passing it to Miles, “But just imagine the damage the two of us could cause.” He said exhaling.

Rolling your eyes you finished the last stitch to your brother’s face before perching down by Coco on the ground and settling between his legs. He wrapped his arms around you resting his head on your shoulder. Miles passed the joint to Letty as she sat next to him. Leaning forward she completed the round passing it to you and then lounging back on the sofa. You took a hit yourself giving Coco another one as well.

The four of you spent the rest of the night sharing stories and catching up. The conversation flowed easily as most of the time you all had smiles on your face. This was your happy place, just hanging out with your family, whole once more. You snuggled closer into Coco feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath that tickled your neck as you listened to your brother and Letty discussing their favorite shows. Closing your eyes you relaxed enjoying the feeling of home.

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan

#johnny coco cruz #johnny coco cruz imagine #johnny coco cruz x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

“SHOULD I TRY”

Gilly Lopez x Reader

Serie Index. Chapter 3.

Word count: 2.7k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. The gif isn't mine.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @mara-mpou @dazzledamazon @sammskellington @arvedua 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You're nervous.

Gilly is holding your hand, carrying a cardboard bag in the other. You're about to sweat with every step you walk through the alley, on your way to the clubhouse. You look at him, biting your inner lip when you stopped walking. He turns at you with a raised eyebrow. Looking down for a second, you sigh.

“What's up?”

“What if I don't fit in?”

You have your own demons, a past that you wanna hide but sooner or later it will come out. It's not only about what they expected of you, or if you're good enough. It's about your shadow and what it has to say about you.

“Baby, they already love you. You don't have anything to worry about.”

“They're your family.”

“Are you more concerned about them being my family than about what they do?” Gilly laughs loud, you frown upset releasing his hand. “Cariño, come here”.

He pushes you next to his body, holding your waist between his hands. Rising up on your tiptoes and your fingers tangled in his shirt, you kiss him softly. He knows how to calm you down, with that peace only he can transmit to you.

“Shit, I ruin your lipstick”.

“Are you fuckin' serious?” You shout taking the phone of your pocket to see your reflection on the screen.

“Of course not. You're using that one I hate, 'cause it doesn't leave any mark”. He's laughing and you know you can't be upset with him, when he has that kind of smile on his face. He makes you melt every time he laughs so naturally. “Everything is gonna be ok, baby.”

You're not sure about that, but his kiss on your temple relaxed you. With an arm on your shoulders, you two finally arrive to the front yard. It's been three months since you were there last, but seems that everything is the same. You can see Angel taking care of the barbecue near the ring, with a big table full of different types of meat. Some of the guys are sitting around the bonfire accompanied by girls you supposed are from Vicky's place. Gilly told you about them. Good girls, bad life. They're drinking, smoking, laughing, focused on a conversation which is finished when they see you.

“Pretty girl is here!” Coco shouts getting up, walking next to you. “What's up, soldier?”

“Hey”. You say a little bit shy.

“What's that, ah?” He takes the bag in your hand, looking inside.

“Oh, ahm… Gilly told me… Bishop? Is that?” You ask to him, trying to remember all the names. He nods with a soft smile. “Yeah, Gilly told me that Bishop likes to dip the meat. And I made a sauce my mom showed me”.

“Well, lets see what he have to say about it”.

“No, no, wait!” Before you can say anything else, Coco already given him the sauce. Bishop looks at you with a serious gesture on his face. “Shit”. You sigh rubbing your nose.

“He will like it”. Gilly tries to calm you down, while the president walks towards Angel to asks him for a piece of meat.

With the plastic pot on the table, he dips it before eat it. He seems thoughtful, tasting every ingredient of the sauce. Then, you can see how he makes a gesture with the right hand calling someone. An older man walks next to him, while the president dips another piece to offer it to him. He eats it without asking. Gilly is trying to contain his laughs, 'cause he knows what they're doing. You're trembling as fuck.

“Gilly, they're coming”. You mutter at him without turning, with your whole body tensed.

You're about to hide behind your boyfriend when both men stand up in front of you, but you can't move a single inch.

“You made it?” The unknown man is the first one to talk. You nod remarkably nervous. Your hands are sweating.

“My mom… was living in Spain… The sauce is from there”.

“Garlic and oil?” Bishop asks.

“Lemon and salt. It's similar to mayonnaise”. After some seconds in silence, Gilly is who answers.

“Relax, pretty girl. It's fucking awesome, thanks for making it”. Bishop starts to laugh, as Taza does. “Welcome to the clubhouse. You wanna beer?”

“Yes… Sure…”

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Thirty minutes later you almost feel like you're at home, it has its good things and its bad things. But you like it. You have a burger between your fingers, having a bite of it, while you're listening to funny stories about Gilly that Coco and Creeper are telling. He's ashamed, but at least you're calmer than before. They don't look as the assholes you thought they were gonna be. Men having fun, that's all; enjoying a family dinner.

“So, you work at a preschool?” Gilly seems alleviated when Riz changes the topic.

“Yes”. You nod covering your mouth with a hand, eating one bite. “Since two years ago”. You say after swallowing it. “With children from three years to six”.

“Is it hard?” EZ asks focusing in your words.

“Sometimes. Mostly they're good children, but when they wake up after a nap… Good god, they are like a herd of hungry coyotes”. That comparison accompanied by the gesture on your face seems so funny that everyone laugh.

“Where are you from, (Y/N)?” Bishop asks with a kind of curiosity that makes you feel uncomfortable for a second.

“Mexico”.

“Tijuana”.

Gilly and you answer at the same time.

“Tijuana, Mexico, I mean”. You add. And you can see that the president is thinking about something that you wouldn't like to know.

The night goes on, feeling a kind of strange tension installed between Bishop and you, even if you try to push it away. But your attention travel to a noisy car being parked next to the motorbikes, and you can swear that you heard a “shit” coming from Angel's mouth. Three girls get out of it. Short dresses, exaggerated makeup and smelling like tropical fruits. You turn your face to the men around you, they don't seem so happy because of the new visit.

The girls walk towards the fire, having some beers of the nearest table, believing that they're the divas in the party. You can't handle with arrogance, but you keep your mouth closed.

“Looks like you saw a ghost, what's up, caballeros?” The blonde one shrugs for a moment, before drink of the bottle. “Woah, look at that pretty girl! Are you new? What street do you work on?”

Taza and Creeper snort. Did she call you ‘bitch’? Seems like. You raise a leg on the chair, supporting your feet on the edge of it. Your arm on your knee, the beer in your hand. You adopted that defensive posture, 'cause sometimes it's better let your body talks instead of your mouth.

“She's (Y/N), my girlfriend”.

“Yea' and don' worry 'bout your work, Crystal”. Coco says smoking of his cigar. “She's a teacher. A girl with a real job”.

If it was allowed, you could clap till hurt your hands because of his words.

“A real job is what I did with Gilly. I sucked his cock so many times it has my name on it”.

Now you know what's happening and why the men look so embarrassed. You know well what she's trying, but you're not intimidated by anyone. No longer. Slowly, very slowly, you draw a soft smile on your lips. That gesture baffles everyone. Tangling the fingers of your free hand on your hair, pulling it behind your shoulders, you have a sip of your drink.

“And it only cost me to erase it a quick ride in the shower.”

At first, the front yard is silent. The men are looking at you with the eyes so opened that you're sure they could fall on the floor.

“Yo! She destroyed my ego, but man! She destroyed your existence!” Angel's laughter resounds throughout the place.

At this point of the night, the MC knows they can't fucking mess with you.

You start to think that the blonde girl in front of you thought that she could be an “Old Lady” or however they call it, but she fucked up everything before you came to Gilly's life. You try to remember her name being pretty sure that he talked you about her. Yeah, she was the one who he used to fuck at Vicky's place. But they weren't anything. A girl making a favor. That's all. And yes, of course you believe him.

“He will come back to my bed, remember my words”. Crystal says, proudly lifting the chin.

“Why don' you fucking leave, uh?” Gilly finally talks with anger, gesticulating with a hand for a second. You put a hand on his chest, palming it softly without turning your eyes to him.

You get up of your seat, leaving the beer somewhere on the floor, walking toward her. Face to face. You can smell her disgusting breath of mixed cigars and who-knows-what. Your orbs travel all over her face, studying every inch of it. You can see she's getting nervous, invading her personal space. Cross-armed, you look her from top to bottom slowly.

“You already had your glory minute. Now, leave”.

“Or what?”

“I know you're smart enough to know what's gonna happen' next”.

The three girls laugh, while the others whom were so kind with you are sighing. Seems like it's not the first time she do something similar. The problem comes when she's against someone who's ready for everything.

Crystal pushes you away with both hands on your chest, hardening her face. You laugh softly, putting your eyes on your own feet. Bad decision. Your left fist hits her ribs, causing her to bend forward with a yowl inside her throat. Moving faster, you put both hands on her nape, hitting her face this time with your knee, lifting it up tight. And when you're about to punch her again, hearing the crying, two shoots in the air make you stop. Of course, seeing how fast you move, the Mayans weren't gonna mediate physically. Your chest ascends and descends furious. Pushing your hair away from your face, you turn to the men. They're totally freaking out, but you're not able to look at Gilly. You're fucking ashamed.

The two unknown girls help their friend while Bishop keeps the gun behind his back, walking next to you. You think you fucked up things, before see how he directs his gaze towards Crystal.

“Don't talk about my man like that again, and if you can't respect his Old Lady as she deserves, then get the fuck out of my fucking MC. Or 'am gonna fuck you down and not in the way you would like it, you heard me, querida?” Then, he looks at you. “Come with me”.

Without a word, you follow the president inside the clubhouse, walking the place they call ‘the templo’; a large room with a big table in the middle. He takes a seat on the front chair, pointing with his hand the nearest. You do what appears to be an order. Taking the tobacco pack of his pocket, he offers you a cigar. You light it in your lips having a deepest puff. He does the same. You know that he knows.

“I saw the tattoo between the ring finger and the small one”.

“It's just a tattoo”. You shake your head with pursed lips.

“No, it's not”. He sentences. There's a pause, before he continues talking. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm hiding”.

“From what?”

“From a crazy ex”.

He raises an eyebrow, supporting his arms against the edge of the table.

“You can ask for my medical reports and all the complaints I made”. Your heart is beating faster than you could it's allowed.

“Are you an active member?”

“I've never been. My brother is the president, that's all”.

“You're brother is the president of Los Coyotes de Tijuana, and you say ‘that's all’?”

“Look, I'm not here to… spy or something like that. God! This is why I didn't tell anything about it, Bishop. Why would I have waited two years? It doesn't make sense”.

“Gilly knows?”

“Of course not”.

The man sighs rubbing his temples, throwing himself in the chair. He have a smoke, leaving it out by his nose.

“Your brother knows?”

“Yes”.

“You know you have to request a transfer if you wanna stay here, even if you are not an active member, right?”

“Yes”.

“And you have to tell Gilly”. Your heart stop for a second. You nod swallowing. But then happens something you didn't expect. Bishop holds your hand on the table, urging to look at him. “He's a good man, even if he does what he does. And I know you're telling the truth, but there are no secrets between my crew. And now, you're part of it. If you need protection, we'll give it to you. Although you know how to defend yourself, kid”.

You nod again in silence, while the man is getting up of his chair.

“I'll tell Gilly to come and you're gonna say him who you are, ok? And tomorrow you will arrange a meeting with Los Coyotes”.

Another nod.

The wait for your boyfriend is insanely long, feeling how your heart stops again when the door is opened. You can't turn to him, it's hard to face a situation where you are about to lose the only good thing you have had in life.

“You ok?” He sounds worried, sitting next to you.

“I have to… tell you something, Gilly. And I don't know how to do it”.

“Then make up the truth”. He repeats the words you said in Santa Madre, but you shake your head.

“I wasn't scared of Mayans”. You start, raising your eyes looking for his. “I was scared of what I have to tell you and you don't accepting it, or don't accepting me”.

He's listening only focused on you.

“My brother is the president of Los Coyotes de Tijuana”.

He has an impassive grin on his face.

“I'm not a member, I'm… just his sister, even if I grow up with them. My parents were killed because of their fault, more or less. So, they ‘adopted us’. My brother begun to be a prospect, till three years ago when they made him their president”. You sigh heavily, before showing him the tattoo on your finger. “Look… I didn't tell you 'cause…”

“Bishop already told me your story, before coming in”. He finally talks, and you're not sure what to think. “Are you really here because of me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really feel something for me, or it was just a trick to get closer to the Mayans?”

“Good god…”

“Answer the question, (Y/N)?” His voice is rough, determinant.

“I know it's been three months since we met, but… Shit, Gilly! You're everything I want. I've been hiding my whole life. And yes, I know how to fight, or shoot, or whatever. But being with you made me feel safe for the first time. And it's not only that. You take care of me without expecting anything back.” You're trying your best, exposing all your truly feelings for him. “Gilly, I love you. And I don't wanna lose you. Please… believe me”.

“Arrange the meeting, (Y/N)”. It's all he says.

“Gilly, please…”

“I have to go”.

“No, Gilly, listen. Please!” You're in tears getting up of your seat at the same time he does, trying to stop him.

“Leave me, (Y/N). I need to think and be alone”.

You nod biting your trembling inner lip, looking how he walks out of the Templo.

#mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc x reader #mayans x reader #gilly lopez imagine #gilly lopez #gilly lopez x reader

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harveywritings92 · 4 years

Text

Someone flirts/asks you out in front of them: Ezio,Connor,Jacob,Arno

Ezio Auditore [modern Au] : You were a temporary sub for the local high-school while the math teacher was on early maternity leave, due to getting sick...And due to your young and pretty appearance, these over hormonal charged teens were smitten with you! Well the boys are anyway...

the girls on the other hand, were very passive aggressive towards you! in their young developing minds they saw every little praise or smile as you hitting on or attempting to steal their crushes. So, of course you'd find someone had vandalized your desk or left a message on your blackboard calling you a very colorful name, of course one of the boys would jump over their desk in a heartbeat to clean up the mess or tattle on whoever did it.

Needless to say You found the whole thing hilarious! You thought if the girls were upset now, they'll be royally destroyed once they find out who you're married to! that was until Travis transferred to your class He was tall, blond, and had blue eyes and was very good looking...Well at least to a teenage girl's perspective, To you? he was another pimply faced teen with a crush, He'd often offered to help with carry boxes, clean up after class, and was always volunteering to get something for you.

His flirting wasn't subtle either more then often you have to duck or walk around to avoid him touching you, since that was big no-no in the school [unless he was dying you can't touch him and vice versa] that and he started asking for your number and address to hang out, You shot him down everytime, even made sure to mention your husband and flashed your ring a few times, but the blond was persistent! then the rumor started that Travis was planning to ask you out after class was floating around... Maybe he'd get the hint if he saw you with Ezio?

3rd pov

Y/n pretty much clung to her husband after explaining the situation to him, Ezio downplayed at first thinking she was just overreacting, "He's a kid Mi Bella, they get crushes all the time!" He said trying to calm her nerves, But seeing how shaken up his wife was, caused his protective instincts to go on high alert! right as her class was ending everyone who had heard what Travis was planning stuck around curious to see where it goes.

Y/n was on edge Ezio was late and Travis was eagerly waiting for the bell, which went off as she felt a bead of sweat fall of her chin, she watched the blond teen get up Y/n tried not to cringe as he approached her desk. "Hey, Miss L/n." purred leaning on her desk she wince hearing his voice crack a little.

"Hi Travis." Y/n said trying to back away from him trying not to gag he was wearing way too much axe. "I wondering if you wanted to go out, maybe see a movie or something." he muttered looking her up and down before the y/hc teacher could open her mouth a smooth Italian voice answered "Well it depends what are we going to watch?~" Travis jumped back in shock that it wasn't Y/n's cute voice answering him and saw Mr. Auditore standing in the doorway large bouquet in hand.

"Wh-what?" Travis sputtered out confused as the Italian teacher walked over to Y/n's desk handing her the flowers kissed her on the cheek, then turned to the gobsmacked teen. "I said what are we..." he gestured the three of them. "You, me and my wife. what are we going watch? Hopefully nothing R Rated or keeps you up passed your bedtime, it's a school night after all." Ezio said in a matter of factly way, But it was obvious he was teasing the boy causing the other students to snicker, once they got over their shock, Travis's face turned red with embarrassment.

When he heard Miss L/n was actually a Mrs. he pictured some plain nerdy looking dude... Not Ezio frickin' Auditore! the Italian history teacher and to quote the girls "The sex-bomb of [School-name] high!" His ego deflated immediately crush fucking over! he can't compete with that! Travis left the class with his tail between his legs...

Connor Kenway [Cannon Time]: [This the albino Reader from my Connor Oneshot]

Otsi'tsa was looking trough some documents an apprentice had pocketed from a templar envoy, she used a candle to see in there was hidden message or code was written in invisible ink, when she heard footsteps coming up the steps to the library, she briefly glanced up to see the newest Novice to join the creed standing in the door watching her.

The albino cocked brow at the young man curiously. "What can I do for you John?" she hummed as the man glanced around to make sure they were alone, He hadn't noticed Connor obscured by the book shelf. "Miss Y/n I have to confess something." He put his hand on her shoulder the native woman tensed, and slowly looked at the black haired novice like.

*what the hell, why are you touching me?...

He didn't seem to notice her discomfort "What?" She said trying to shrug his hand off. "I liked you for a while now, And I'd like to perhaps court you..." the white haired woman gawked at him in disbelief before finding her voice. "...I..o-oh, I'm sorry." his hopeful expression dropped. "but... I'm already spoken for." Y/n explained confusing the novice farther he hadn't heard of or seen any signs of miss Y/n in courtship with another? "You..With who?" the green eyed man demanded.

A loud bang caused John to jolt, he looked behind him and saw Master Connor standing by the center table; with a stack of heavy books he'd slammed down on the table lips curled into a snarl. "That would be me..." Connor hiss as he scrutinized the novice who still hadn't taken his hand off his woman the green eyed man saw the way his mentor was eyeing his hand on the albino woman's shoulder, the larger man's eyes darkened with a very clear message.

*Take it off or else I'll rip it off..*

John withdrew his hand like Otsi'tsa was made of hot iron and apologized before scurrying away as soon he was sure John was gone Y/n was suddenly pulled into tight hug by Ratonhnhaké:ton He started talking to her in Kanienʼkéha "You wouldn't leave me for a man like John, would you?" He croaked warily the Albino looked at him surprised. "No, never! I made a promise to you, And I intend to keep it." Her fiancee smirked before suddenly latching his to her collarbone.

She squeaked feeling him nip and suck on a sensitive spot before pulling away from her looking satisfied. "That should tell unwanted guests to back off for a while." He hummed in english giving her a peck on the forehead before setting her down and leaving, Otsi'tsa's whole body had turned pink as she threw her hand over the mark Ratonhnhaké:ton left on her neck.

Jacob Frye [Modern AU]: [Reader is Bi and the girl is an ex]

"Oh, fuck me sideways!" Y/n groaned in annoyance as Jacob pulled away from her small baby bump; ever since she told he was going to be a father Jacob makes sure to talk to and cuddle her belly every chance he gets, his hazel eyes scanned the park to see what's got his wife riled up, and saw this fake tanned blond woman looking their way. "Friend of yours?" He asked unsure Blondie didn't seem the type Y/n would associate herself with, the y/hc woman snorted in disgust. "Hardly, that's Vanessa she and I dated for while..." She mumbled knowing Jacob doesn't like discussing exes.

"For how long a while?" the brown haired man pressed. "three years then she ghosted me, found out through a mutual that she had been seeing some rich bloke..."Y/n told him how the blond had gotten married that man who was like thirty years older than them, while just a week before she told Y/n marriage was stupid, the y/ec woman cussed as her ex seem to recognize her. "Turns out she never cared about me, I was just her string along if sugar daddy ever dumped her ass." Jacob looked pretty pissed that someone had the audacity to do such a thing to his wife, and gonna ask if she wanted to go home, but a nasally voice cut in. "Y/n, oh my god! I haven't you been returning my calls babe?" Vanessa rudely pushed herself between Jacob and the pregnant woman.

"I tried your apartment and some old creeper opened the door." She whined as Y/n cringed bemused. "I move outta that flat six yea-" The blond put her figure over the y/nat woman's lips and shushed her. "That's nice honey, I'm talking now!" she started gave the y/ht the run that her husband croaked and left all his money to his gross kids, the blonds lips curled in disgusted as she mentioned her step children, how dare he?! such selfish asshole then turned to Y/n with her fake smile.

"But I know my little n/n will never do that me.~" she purred trying to kiss her the h/c leaned away from the skinny woman who was confused when she felt something on her stomach and saw Y/n's pregnant belly "Ew, what the fuck is that, Why are you so fat?!" Vanessa demanded in disgust as she shoved her away, luckily the y/nat caught herself before she fell off the bench and Y/n saw Jacob's lips do that little twitch when he's about to fuck shit up.

Before Vanessa could try something else she was suddenly tossed off the bench and she hit the ground with a yelped, then looked up to see a pissed off Jacob holding Y/n bridal style whiles glowering at the gold digging tramp, who was about to demand his name only for him to bark "Shut up!" the blond flinched at his tone as Y/n carefully rubbed her belly. "Now you listen here and you listen well you plastic tart, Y/n isn't your bloody meal-ticket anymore..." He growled enjoying the blonde squirm like a child who just got caught stealing cookies.

"She moved on married and happy..." His lips formed thin as people were watching. "And if you or anyone wants my wife, they'll have to go through me." he hissed before carrying Y/n out of the park and away from her toxic ex who just sat there gawking at the man's back, Jacob carried her all the way to their car he opened the backseat and climbed in with her still his arms and closed the doors and just held her...she felt his hand slip under her shirt and feel her belly. "Mine..." he sighed kissing her forehead.

Arno Dorian [Cannon time]:

Arno was free running in the city being careful as he kept out of her sight if his wife knew he was following her, she'd have his head on a pike! It not like hasn't Y/n hasn't gone out alone before! She can handle herself, he's never had any problems with it before! It was just different now...this was the first time Y/n had gone out for a walk a month since giving birth to their daughter, said babe was currently napping whilst carefully wrapped save and snug in a sling against her mother's chest...

So, of course Arno was wary he just wanted to make sure his girls were okay! It was fifteen minutes in when Arno spotted him. A man following his wife, The assassin had see the man before! but Arno couldn't quite place where... He managed to get closer and realized it was one of his novices! what could they possibly want with Y/n? she was civilian not an enemy!

He followed for while before doing leap of faith into a hay pile neither Y/n or the novice had noticed the master assassin who was listening to conversation. "Uh, Bonjour madame!" the younger assassin greeted Y/n who jumped from the sudden voice , and subconsciously held her daughter closer. "Who are you?" Y/n ask as she scrutinized the hooded stranger. who staring at her nervously Arno could see and blush from under the gray hood...his stomach churned when he realized what was happening. just then D/n's eyes looked over at the hay and she got fussy.

Y/n didn't notice as her eyes were trained on the assassin in front of her who introduced himself as Rodrick. "And what do you want Mr. Rodrick?" she asked still cautious as the gray hooded, shifted uncomfortably. "I've seen at the cafe a lot, I enjoy your singing.." Her brows furrowed as she thanked him still lost on where this red bearded man was going with this. "I was wondering if you would be interested and in perhaps g-going out with me?" he stammered at little as the y/ht woman's brows shot up to her hairline.

"I'm sorry I misheard you..." He shook his head now hopeful and a bit more brave. "You do realize I married, right?" she pointed at her ring the man's demeanor hadn't change. "And yet he let's you wander the streets alone and never once seen you preform, tell me what kind of husband does that?" Y/n frowned and sighed as agreeing with him as she looked down at D/n little brown eyes that mirrored her father's blinked tiredly at her before closing again. "Maybe you should ask him..." she then looked up at the rooftops. "Arno?" she called out to her husband Rodrick blanched as figure rose out of the hay pile whilst glaring at daggers at the red bearded novice who just realized he tried to steal his mentor's wife!?

"M-master Dorian! I-I though she I- didn't know she was yours!" Rodrick stumbled over his words trying to apologize as the master came up beside he wife with a stern expression. "I think you need to leave, now." Arno growled the gray clad novice didn't need to be told twice! and ran disappearing into the crowds, Arno made a mental note of dealing with him later, He then turned to his wife intrigued and bemused.

"How did you know I was following you?"

"I didn't...D/n did."

" What...how?"

"I don't know how, but she always knows when her papa's nearby..."

Arno's heart sped up at the prospects that his daughter may have his gift and wonders what future she'll have when that time comes? But for now he opted to just finish having an afternoon walk with his girls.

#assassin's creed x reader #Ezio auditore x reader #connor kenway x reader #jacob frye x reader #arno dorian x reader #scenario #assassin's creed

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argylemikewheeler · 5 years

Note

so this is a very specific prompt but could you write something where Mike thinks he’s homophobic like two years after will comes out as gay and goes to steve for advice on how to get over it and steve’s confused because mike’s never had a problem with being will or robin being gay and realizes that mike’s actually just jealous of will talking to other guys and helps mike realize he has feelings for will. Thank you so much!

part 2

By the fall of 1989, Steve’s BMW had been in three fender benders, had one headlight replacement, two flat tires in a week of each other, and a clutch replacement. No, Steve hadn’t suddenly lost sight in both eyes and all depth perception; he had been teaching the Party to drive. Max was really good at tailgating (and not stopping fast enough), El always got nervous and would slam on the breaks or pop a bulb with her powers, Dustin drove straight over railroad tracks way too fast, and Mike rode the clutch far too often. It was a strain on his wallet, but they were all really thankful. Mike more than anyone– which explained why he was wasting his Saturday afternoon sitting with Steve while he clumsily changed his oil.

They were in Steve’s driveway, Mike sitting by the front tires with his arms resting on his knees while Steve was under the car on his mechanic’s creeper. Besides just keeping him company, Mike also had the motive of wanting him alone to ask Steve something– maybe something that was safer to not ask while behind the wheel of a car, and possibly just under it.

“Hey Steve?” Mike poked his shin. Steve kicked his foot gently: he was listening. “Are you homophobic?”

Something clanged. “Am I what?”

“You know, homophobic?” Mike repeated, tucking his hair behind his ear. “A ‘phobe, if you will.”

“No.” Steve said, his voice muffled. “I mean, I try not to be bone-headed, but my mistakes are not because I’m an asshole.”

“Oh. Okay.” Mike nodded. He picked as his fingernail, waiting until he heard Steve put his tool down. “Am I homophobic?”

Slowly, Steve wheeled himself out from under the car. “Okay, where are you getting this word, Wheeler? Homophobic?”

“You know… around.” He muttered.

“Okay, well, Einstein. Did you bother to understand the definition?” Steve wiped his hands on his coveralls and sat up fully in front of Mike.

“It’s a compound word, Idiot.” Mike said, crossing his arms. “I know what it means. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I don’t think you do. Because you don’t show fear at the life and happiness of your friends– I mean, you’re not angry at them, are you?”

Mike bit his lip and bounced his head slowly side to side, the word slipping out. “Maybe…”

“About what? Because just because you fight with your gay friends doesn’t mean you fight with them because they’re gay. All my squabbles with Robin are because we were together constantly and sometimes, I’m a fucking idiot and can’t make change fast enough when there is a line out the door and she’s got a perfect SAT math score. Not because she’s gay.” Steve spoke quickly, sighing when he finished. His hands slapped against his legs, clearing the air for a moment and allowing Mike to meet Steve’s eyes. “That’s not homophobia, Mike.”

“Well, I don’t know!” Mike cried, pushing his legs down. “I got like, really really mad at Will the other week and I– I’m still probably really mad about it now. And I feel bad because…. he’s my best friend and I’m mad.”

Steve blinked at him. “That was the most explosively vague sentence I’ve ever heard. Give me more what happened?”

Mike twisted his finger, the knuckle popping quietly. “Will was over and we were just like, talking about our classes and stuff– he’s in this weird art class thing they’re offering kids who can like, draw and shit.”

“Which is Will.”

“Yeah, I know!” Mike snapped. No one was more proud of Will getting into the program than Mike. Absolutely no one. Mike stood by the main office, waiting for Will to come out of his meeting, and lifted him clean off the floor when Will walked out with a smile and a nod. Mike had never cried from smiling so hard before. He didn’t know it was possible before then. Before Will. “The class isn’t the problem… It’s who’s in it.”

Steve hummed and sighed. “Are they homophobic?”

“No! Still me!” Mike grumbled.

“Wheeler–”

“I am! He started talking about this one kid in his class, Charlie or some shit I don’t know– and I don’t care– but god every time he mentions this kid I get so angry. Like, I know Will’s gay and he’s gonna talk about boys but… when he does I just get so mad.”

Steve looked at Mike for a while, blinking and parting his lips only to abandon his sentence repeatedly. Oh fuck. That can’t be good.

“See? I am homophobic! I’m such a bad person! Fuck!” Mike scrambled to get to his feet, only to collapse back as Steve yanked his arm.

“That’s… That’s not what that is.” He said with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. It wasn’t funny, but Mike was missing the joke. “You aren’t hateful, Wheeler. You’re, uh, you’re jealous.”

“What.” Mike said flatly. “I don’t even know this Charlie kid.”

Steve stared at Mike, his jaw tight and lips rolling inward. He blinked and lifted his eyebrows. “Mike.”

“I’m not jealous! You know what? You really are an idiot.“ Mike rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was worse: being terrible to his best friend or having Steve lie to him and tell him he was just jealous.

“I didn’t say you were jealous of Will.” Steve said slowly. “But perhaps, of Charlie… for spending so much time with Will.”

“I mean, yeah.” Mike scoffed. “That kid doesn’t know Will. He’s not funny or like, as cool as, you know, his best friend.” Mike motioned toward himself and rolled his eyes again. “Why would he be spending time with Will? He’s not… like, I don’t know, worthy.”

Steve clicked his tongue and grabbed Mike’s arm carefully– tenderly, like his words were about to become violent. Mike leaned back, eyebrows furrowing. “Mike.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“I don’t feel that way about Robin.”

“Okay…”

“I don’t feel that way about any of my friends. In fact, I only feel that way about girls that I like when they hang out with other men. And obviously like them better than me. That’s called jealousy.” He lifted his eyebrows, highlighting the word.

“I don’t get it. So you’ve got really bad game. What’s your point.”

“You aren’t getting mad because Will’s talking about another guy. You’re mad because you think Will might like this guy.”

“And that’s homophobia!”

“No, that’s called having a crush, Mike.” Steve was slow with his words, almost handing them over to Mike with cupped hands. In the silence, he held onto them until Mike was ready to take them.

Mike swallowed and it felt like he had inhaled the draining oil from Steve’s car. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m not gay.”

“Okay, valid response… but that doesn’t mean you can’t like other guys. You can be a whole bunch of things and still like guys, Mike. It’s possible.” Steve shrugged. “Sometimes the kid in your business 101 class is cute, and guy who always comes in and rents history documentaries that you stupidly love hearing the summary of the following week. Sometimes it happens.”

“No. No! I– I don’t… That’s scary. W-What I can just start liking guys? That’s… No. I’m not… Since when?” Mike sputtered, shaking his head.

He’d never considered the possibility. He’d always been so relieved to like girls; he’d never have to be what he’d heard so frequently was so terrible from his father. Mike was so fucking relieved when he’d realized that he had the ability to like and love women. There wasn’t a thought that the relief came from a place of worrying he’d ever actually like a boy. That wasn’t right. Mike wasn’t wrong.

“It’s not like a virus, Wheeler. C’mon. It’s just life. Crushes aren’t plagues.” Steve kept his hand on Mike’s arm. There wasn’t fear or even repulsion. Mike wasn’t sure what was happening. Everything felt like a lie.

“I don’t like Will.”

“You just said this boy wasn’t worthy of hanging out with Will. No one says that about casual friends.”

“Well he’s not! He doesn’t even care about Will… At least not… The way I do.” Mike admitted, setting his jaw as he heard himself say it. Steve sat quietly, waving him on.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know! I just… everything he does is… so cool and everyone just thinks it’s normal art or normal whatever, but it’s not, okay? They’re masterpieces and Will’s a fucking genius. At like, ev-er-y-thing.”

“Oh dear God, you poor fucking soul. You are so in love. I’m gonna hurl.” Steve laughed, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Mike. He wasn’t sure why, but Mike felt like the hug was an admittance of pity, or failure. He was being coddled.

“I’m not in love. I-I’m not.” Mike argued, shaking his head. He was hoping to protect himself with a just a quiet denial. “That’s wrong.”

“It’s okay, Mike.” Steve held the back of Mike’s head, rocking them back and forth. For a moment, Mike was sure Steve thought he was actually holding baby, but accepted it the moment he felt himself start to cry. “You’re okay.”

“Why? Why do I care this much about Will? It’s stupid but he’s just… No, I don’t like him. There’s no way.” Mike pushed Steve away, wiping his eyes with a harsh swipe of his thumbs.

“Mike, this isn’t a bad thing. Crushes are supposed to make you feel good– what’s why we have them. We’ve found someone that makes us feel so good and so happy we just can’t stop thinking about them and how freaking cute and cool they are. That’s how it starts.”

“Well, I don’t…” Mike couldn’t even say he didn’t even feel that way about Will. He knew he did. He knew the prospect of seeing Will was the highlight of every single day. “I don’t want to feel this way.”

“Okay. That’s different. That’s okay too, but… Hm. Okay, so maybe homophobic is the right word.”

“What?” Mike blinked, sniffling.

“Maybe not towards Will though. Maybe think about how maybe you are– I don’t know– having that fear with yourself.” Steve mumbled, waving his hand around to stir up the words.

“… That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Mike said harshly. That wasn’t possible. Mike wasn’t scared, he just didn’t want to upset his father. Or his mother. Or his friends. Or his neighbors. Or his teachers. Or anyone at school… It was different. Mike wasn’t scared. He just wanted to not bother anyone. That’s all he had been hoping for his whole life; to just be quiet enough to disappear.

Steve shrugged and waved the thought away. “All I’m saying is let yourself feel happy.” Steve said. “And definitely get rid of this Charlie kid. He sounds like a snotty art kid.”

“He is!” Mike cried. “All he talks about is Monet.”

“The water lily dude? Oh, gross. Boring.”

“Hey. That’s Will’s favorite artist right now.” Mike said pointedly, crossing his arms. Mike had stared at that woman and her umbrella in that field for enough hours with Will to at least get it a little bit.

“Oh, so it’s okay when Will talks about him but not this other kid.” Steve chuckled. “That sounds… biased.”

“Um, no. Will’s like, super knowledgeable about him. And tells me all the names of his strokes and shit. This kid just like. Knows he painted that one bridge painting.”

“Oh, so now you’re an expert.”

“Well, yeah. Because I listen to Will! He’s always showing me stuff.” Mike explained flippantly.

Steve positioned himself back on the creeper, lying down and grabbing the bumper of his car. “Does Will always talk to you about paintings and art?”

“Well, yeah. All the time.” Mike nodded.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded to himself. “Okay, so, my advice? Don’t worry about Charlie. Like, at all. He’s a red herring– absolutely a moot point. Complete bozo, nobody, nothing.” He rolled himself under the car as if that was enough.

“Wait! Why?” Mike grabbed Steve’s leg and pulled him out again. “What does that mean?”

“Will definitely likes you too.” He smiled. “He’s testing to see if you like him too.”

“He is? H-He does?” Mike gasped, tensing. There was that relief again, but this time it felt so different. It wasn’t a protective sinking that stuck Mike to the ground beneath him; it was a lifting, glowing sigh that made Mike feel like he was weightless. He was afraid to speak, to shatter the moment in which everything didn’t seem so terrible.

“Yeah. Totally. I may not know anything, but seriously. Showing you the thing he’s the most interested in? Man, Byers is crazy about you. Definitely.” Steve wiggled the creeper back under the car. “You should ask him to go to the movies.”

“We do that every week.”

“Offer to pay this time.” Steve said, moving his foot to nudge Mike’s leg. “Like a date.”

Mike had never heard of the simplistic joy and closeness he felt when he was at the movies with Will ever being linked to people like that– like Mike, evidently. The way he felt, brightly shining in his own pleasant happiness in the darkness of the theater, Will’s elbow nudging his own, was not something Mike ever thought gay people felt. He’d been taught differently. Granted, he saw Will being happy and brilliant every day of their lives, but Mike never thought it was eternal. There was never going to be a day that love was going to run out or joy was going to run dry.

A crush was just a beginning. It was part relief, part terror. Mike had never liked another boy before, never thought he would. And now he had to reconcile that he had been slowly falling for one boy his entire life. The crush wasn’t new; it had been constant and was familiar by then. It was a future Mike had come to expect and look forward to. Maybe it was time he started it.

ao3

#byeler #byler #will byers x mike wheeler #stranger things writing #bi mike wheeler #bi steve harrington #actually if you look close enough #i just can't write him straight sorry #prompts

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kileyrose-2003 · 4 years

Text

Rose the Hat x Fem! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies. This very fun write was requested by @mad4thehat-rose

Warnings: Implied domestic violence, violence, violence against children, mentions of major character death, major character death, child death (if you really like Abra and hate Dark AU endings, skip past the top 8 paragraph) I'm warning you all now, it's DARK, sexual content (literally the whole end of this piece is pure smut)

Key: Mo grá is My Love in Irish. I hope you all enjoy!

"Now do you see the consequences to what you've caused bitch child?!!" Rose screamed and she dragged Abra by her hair to Room 237.

"I had him just where I wanted him-" She gestured to Dan's corpse. "And then you had to fuck it all up!! You took everything from me. My sense of security, my dignity, Andi, and not to mention MY Crow or my newest planned recruit! This is all your fault!"

Abra sobbed as Rose shackled her to the floor. It wasn't supposed to end this way. She seen it herself. Rose was supposed to die.

"Are you even listening to me?!" She slapped Abra across the face and shook the girl who's fate was near sealed. "Y-you're a whore! An ugly old whore! My Uncle would of never went with you..that's just the hotel. He was a good man. You deserved what you got. Especially the Crow. I hope it hurts after what you did to the Baseball Boy. You all were cowards and you're the biggest one of them all and now you're all by yourself and have no one else to blame besides you. You killed them. Not me."

Rose sat their in silence for a few moments. Did she really kill her Crow even if it was unintentional? No..she couldn't of. She loved him and the others. She wouldn't try to ever hurt them purposely but had she been so aborbed in her rage to not notice? Deep down she knew it was possible but shoved it aside. He did know that she loved him, didn't she?

Rose giggled at the morbidity of the situation as reality finally started to sink in slightly. It wouldn't be long now until she had her another breakdown. Abra's confident air began to fade at the sound of the laugh.

"You speak of things and people you know nothing about. You're just a fucking child! A dead one at that and it's all you'll ever be to me from now on." She took the knife out of her pocket and stuck it into the ground inches away from Abra's leg.

Abra tensed and closed her eyes before looking at Rose again, the eyes of a strong woman radiating through her. "You're going to hurt me now, aren't you?"

Rose gave a tight lipped grin and leaned over the young girl, her hair going all in Abra's face. "Oh yes." Rose never looked so glad to say those words. She held her knife up sentimentally as thought of all the bloodshed she caused with it over the years. "And now you're going to scream for years." Rose's face turned to that of a scorned psycho as she plunged the knife deep into Abra's femoral artery.

Meanwhile as Abra and Rose's screams faded into the night you stood in your boyfriends apartment, throwing your clothes and belongings into your suitcase.

"I don't know why you think you can just take off and leave because I never said you were allowed to." You tried your best not to let him think he had the upper hand from the beginning.

"Really? I didn't know I was legal property." Your smile was a vicious one. "You should be. A property of the state that is. We all know you're just trying to get attention. All the psychic shit is just a bunch of hocus pocus."

'If you seen and know the things I do, you wouldn't say. Especially because I could save you from your very preventable death in a few months. Keep being a prick though and I won't. ' You thought to yourself and just shrugged his insult off as ignorance.

"Are you even listening to me?" He tugged your hair and you glared, pushing him away. "First, don't touch me. Who gave you permission to do that? And why should I listen to an abusive asshole?"

He took a swig of beer. "You best watch your tone. Wouldn't want to be burned by the fire you're playing with, is that right love?"

"At this rate, I'm not your love. Not now and not ever. I'm not playing games with you ever again. Now if you would excuse me." You picked up your suitcase and made your way towards the doorway but he blocked it.

"You walk out this door and I'm not covering for you. The only reason your family hasn't sent you away yet is because you're living with me. I won't stop them from sending people to come after you if you walk out that door. So best think of your actions now." He threatened.

"Let them send people after me. I don't care. You won't be able to find me. Now move!" You plowed past him, using your suitcase as a defense of sorts.

"Suit yourself, freak." You had your hand on the doorknob when he said it. "I'm not a freak." You whispered softly, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, you are." He pressed. "No. I'm not!" Your grip on the doorknob tightened to the point your fingers were flushed. "Yes! You are!"

"NO I'M NOT!" The door flew off the hinges and broke into minuscule pieces, nearly hitting your now ex boyfriend.

His face dropped and you locked eyes with him, your tears turning from frustrated ones to angry ones before you walked out the door for good. Leaving him to pick up the pieces himself.

"What a dick." You shook your head as you unlocked your car and stuffed your suitcase in the back before driving away.

Meanwhile on the way other side of the country Rose finished up her work on Abra when she felt a blast of steam hit her.

It was enough to make her stop the final collection on the girl's steam. The word 'freak' radiated through her mind as the energy faded off.

"A woman..maybe from the east coast and twenty tops. No matter, I won't be needing her for a long time. I'll let this one hang around for a little bit and see where the road takes her because she's a wanderer. For now-"

She smiled largely as her bloody hands lovingly caressed the cannister of steam as she felt the fine lines on her face fading. "I have my whale."

Part 2

You didn't know how long you were on the road for until you seen the 'WELCOME TO COLORADO.' sign enter your frame of vision. It was snowing hard at almost a white out rate that day and you could barely even see anything ahead of you.

You stopped at the nearest small town called Silverton and got yourself a hotel room and never left the area from that point on. People in Silverton lived by a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' and you liked it like that. It was a serne and safe area with mountains farther then the eyes could see on days it didn't snow and little vintage shops that always caught visitors attention because the place was practically stuck in time.

You lived on your own in your own little apartment and a got job where you made good friends. None of them knew about your little gift and if they did, they never said anything to you about it. Just like they never asked about your family either.

You hadn't spoken to your family in at least a year. On that drive to the Colorado High Country, your cellphone ended up getting thrown out the window. You were a woman of your word now and stronger. You meant what you said.

It was a bustling Friday night on the main street shops and you were in your apartment, running a curling iron through your hair as you were getting ready for your night out.

"Is that guy from your work coming?" Y/b/n asked, scrolling through their phone. "No. They scheduled him for nights."

"Aww that's too bad. I was hoping I could maybe set you guys up." The look in their eyes was mischievous and you shook your head.

"How'd I figure?" You were joking but their eyes became seriously. "Because you just do. I don't know how but you do and I think it's cool...I'm sorry, that was personal. I shouldn't of said anything."

"It's fine." You shrugged it off and unplugged the curling iron, leaving it safely on the counter and shut the light off. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Sweet." They tossed you your jacket and stepped outside, making their way to your car. Talking about random stuff as they did you.

You were about to chase after them when suddenly you felt cold eyes on the back of your head.

It wasn't someone physically looking at you, you immediately would of picked up on the person's presence. This one felt cold and empty.

You rubbed the sides of your arm and looked both ways. "Y/n! You coming or not?" Your best friend called out from the sidewalk and you nodded slowly. "Yeah..sorry I-"

"Sorry what?" They made their way back towards you. "I thought I seen something." Your friend just smiled at you and giggled. "I think you're just nervous..come on, you'll feel better once we're on the road."

"Yeah..you're probably right." You took their hand in yours as you strolled to their car, having meaningless small talk along the way. The creeper feeling began to fade away and you attempted to brush it off as just your paranoia but something deep down told you it wasn't.

Meanwhile as you attempted to brush off your inner instincts, Rose the Hat sat at the driver side of her RV with a pair of binoculars in her hand.

(I don't see what all the fuss is about. When I was alive if we seen her we wouldn't of even bothered killing her. We would of just turned her.)

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and grasped onto the sides of her seat. "You're not supposed to be this close to me. Or Andi for that matter. You're both gone now. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Crow sat in her passenger seat. "You're right, I am but who's going stop me?" He kicked his feet up on her dashboard.

"What are you doing here?" She refused to look him in the eye. "A visitation of sort but mostly for another reason."

"Which is?" He sighed and rubbed his face. "You got to move on, Rosie." Rose laughed and put the binoculars done and pulled her knife out from underneath her skirt. "Funny." She balanced the blade in between her finger tips, her eyes fixated on it.

"I'm serious darlin'." Tears brimmed out of the corners of her eyes and she attempted to blink the them away, not wanting Crow to see her vulnerable in life or death. "And I was being serious when I say you shouldn't be this close to me."

There was silence for a few moments. "For the love of god, would just say something?" Rose tried her hardest to not sound like she was begging but they both knew she was.

"You've allowed all this hatred to consume you and it made you push people away, even me. After a while, you're going to be lonely if you aren't already which I know you are." Her grey storm of eyes met his intense sea of black ones. "Then why don't you stay with me then?"

There was without a doubt a sentimental amount of a bitter sweet touch in Rose's tonality. Whether it was because of the immense guilt she felt in the aftermath of her crusade on Abra or because she actually was feeling, Crow didn't know.

She reached out to touch his hand, almost as if to see if he was really there infront of her or if he was just some vivid hallucination and he immediately pulled away from her.

Rose looked taken aback, not because she felt her authority was questioned but because he actually had the gall to push her away when for once she actually was willing to admit she needed him.

"As you said to me before, I'm not supposed to be this close to you." Crow Daddy placed his tan hat atop of his head.

"You won't see me anymore after this. At the end of the day Rosie you're going to end up doing whatever you want anyway but just remember, an eternity alone gets very lonely."

Before Rose could say anything Crow was already gone. She looked at herself in her large mirror for a few moments. The phrase 'At the end of the day you're going to end up doing whatever you want anyways.' Ran through her head like a march.

Crow was right about that part. Even when she was with The True at the very beginning stages of her turning, she did just exactly what she wanted whenever she pleased but to admit to being lonely? That was something she'd never do.

'You need steam much more than companionship.' She told herself. 'As much of a whale the bitch child was her taste is starting to get old. You want something new, stronger.'

Rose adjusted her hat and begrudgingly slipped her feet into a pair of shoes. The rube staple she hated the most. "Alright Rosie..let's go get her."

On the other side of town you sat in the corner of the bar you were at. "Come on Y/n! Have some fun!"

You shook your head and shyed back with your phone. "No thanks.." Your bestfriend sat across from you. "You look sad."

"No, it's just-" They took your hand in their own. "You still feel something?" You nodded. "Do you want me to take you home?"

You could smell the alcohol on their breath and you shook your. "No, no. It's okay. I'll get a cab home."

They nodded and wrapped their arms around you tightly. "Be safe, please? It's near Christmas and people are crazier than normal."

"God you're worse than the soccer mom at the elementary school I went too." You scolded joking and planted a kiss on their cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too." You waved to them, slipping your coat on as you stepped outside. You took a breath of relief as you stepped outside and turned on both heels to go hail the taxi down the road when you bumped into someone.

"Well, hi there!" Rose smiled as you looked at her in embarrassment. "I am so sorry. I should of watched where I was going." You went to go pick up her top hat but you didn't like the energy that came off of it. It was dark and cold.

"It's fine, Y/n." Your face flushed of color and Rose gave a look of innocence. "What?" She placed her top hat back on like it was a crown.

"H-how do you know my name?" Her hand was on your wrist and you felt the tell tale urge to pull back but yet you felt so calm. "You really don't think you're the only one around who is special, don't you?"

Your blank expression said it all for her. "Come with me. I'll show you how I'm special." Your inner instincts told you to run but Rose's energy pulled you into a trance like.

"Okay..I'll come with you and you'll show me how your special." Her smile was filled with joyful malice. 'Still got this, Rosie Girl.' She mentally high fived herself. "Yes..and that's just exactly what I'll do."

Part 3

Though Rose the Hat was a woman of many talents, she wasn't near as good at the abduction aspect as Crow or Barry was. There was something in the look of the abducted us eyes, particularly adults, children wasn't near as bothered with, the caused this sense of vulnerablely inside of her.

Whether it was from years of dealing with a drunken father during her childhood that practically beat the emotion out of her, or because it was in fact a part of the role in The True she hadn't done in a while she didn't know.

All she knew was that she had to try the hardest she had in a while to keep a strong face as she did the first part of the job on you. It was a long drive and you cried the whole way to the abandoned agriculture plant she took you to way outside Colorado.

"No! No! No!" You kicked and screamed as Rose carried you over her shoulder out of her trailer and laid you down the ground. "I-i won't tell! Just let me go."

"Sorry darling, it's not personal. You could of had alot of potential it's just that like you rubes, I've got to eat too." She tied the rope around your wrist tightly and you winced, feeling your wrist burn along with your eyes. "Aww look at you..how adorable. I almost forgot how much I liked watching people squirm underneath me." She tightened the last clamp harder than the rest and you shriked.

"A-are you going to hurt me?" It was an answer you already knew as you squirmed underneath her. Rose put a finger up to your lip and shushed you. "As little as I possibly can." She promised.

She ran her thumb over your cheek as if to give you some comfort and raised the knife above her head. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel pain radiating through your body but nothing happened.

Why couldn't she hurt you? Rose, who considered herself to be quite numb to the feelings of others didn't even know herself. There was something about you, some steamy element that made her feel attached to you like a magnet.

"Damn it!" Rose stuck her knife in the dirt inches away from her leg and stood up, frustratedly running her fingers through her hair. "Ro-"

"Quiet Y/n!" She snapped and paced back and forth. She had to have you for steam. You knew what she was. There was no other way but why was it so damn hard?

Finally she sat down next to you again and took her position. This time when she attempted to grab the knife she could barely even bring herself to pull it out of the ground.

She thought back to Crow. 'An eternity alone is lonely. ' He was right. She was lonely. Every little thing about you reminded her of her family or herself and she wanted to bathe in it and never let you go. If she couldn't have you for steam, she'd keep you for company. She couldn't be alone anymore.

"Fuck it." She began to untie the ropes from around your wrist and ankles, fighting tears back from her eyes. The more she looked at you, the more precious she found you from your bright eyes to your beautiful soul.

"W-what are you doing?" Your eyes stung from all the crying you had done and all the force she used to knock you earlier.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Y/n? Damn you rubes.." She continued to untie you, mumbling to herself as she did so.

You laid in the dirt and just stared at Rose. "D-does that mean I get to go home?" Rose stopped what she was doing and smiled at you, her getting all in your face. "Oh sweetie..who said anything about being able to go home?You're staying with me."

"With you?" You looked at her in disbelief. "Why, of course. Either way sweetheart, you're mine. All mine. You should of figured that before I even got you because what I want, I always get." You didn't like the look in her eyes and attempted to run.

"Oh no you don't." She caught you by your wrist and you kicked at the ground and sobbed. "Let me go! Please..I won't tell. I promise."

"Shh..it's going to be okay. I have something even more special for you love." You shook your head, barely listening to her. "I just wanna go home..please-"

Rose rolled her eye into the back of her head and reached deep down into her dress pocket, pulling out a needle. "You know Y/n, I really didn't want to do this but you left me no choice." She pushed you back down on the ground and you screamed as she held up the needles. "Sleep, that's all this will give you."

You attempted to move her hands away but she was too strong. You felt a tiny pinch on your neck and you felt a wave a calmness come over your body even though you were mentally screaming.

"That's it..just relax." Rose cooed and slowly got off of you. "You'll thank me later for this, believe me. For now just sleep." Your eyes fluttered shut and slowly you began to fall asleep.

Rose caressed your cheek and lifted you up in her arms as she carried you off to her trailer. Thinking of how much you reminded her of a younger version of herself along the way. She too knew how it felt to be scared and alone because you, like her, probably thought you were the only one out there with this gift and she didn't want you to feel that way anymore.

As much as she needed the steam, she also needed someone to love. Being the only empty devil left in America was lonely. Rose already lost her Crow and Andi and she wasn't about to let you out of her grasp either.

The next morning you woke up warmly tucked into Rose's bed with her arms looped around her waist. You knew you should of been afraid and running for the hills. This was the person that just tried to kill you after all but Rose looked so beautiful, almost like an angel.

Her brown tresses flowed behind her like a veil and her facial, though aggressive beautiful, looked at piece. She looked more earthly.

Ever so carefully, you attempted to slide out of her arms but her body felt so warm and her grip on you was strong like cement.

You managed to get part of your shoulder out of the grip when Rose yanked your wrist. You instantaneously rolled over and your face collided into her chest. "Where do you think you're going, Mo grá?"

She didn't sound angry but you had a feeling she had a temper. "N-nowhere." You stuttered, practically feeling her smile. "Good. That's what I expected to hear."

Rose sat up in bed, looking down at you. "How are you feeling?" You furrowed your brows. "How am I feeling? You kidnapped me and tried to fucking kill me. How do you think I'm feeling?! I should be beating the shit out of you."

Rose chuckled and patted the top of your head. "Such violent threats for such a gentle soul..you and I both know you really wouldn't do it. Now, second time and I'm asking and only the truth. How are you feeling?"

"Shaken but that's the best night's sleep I've ever had. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." You face flushed as the words came flowing out of your mouth and Rose laughed. "Works a little too well sometimes."

She planted a kiss on your forehead and stood up out of her bed. She was completely naked and all you could do was stare.

"What? Clearly it's not the first time you've seen female anatomy my sweet, after all look at yourself." Rose smirked and started a pot of tea.

"I must apologize for what I put you through last night. Normally when I decide who is food, my mind is set on it and there's no going back but you my darling are something special. You have power I haven't felt in a long, long time. I should of found you years ago."

You watched Rose rummage through her cabinets for her box of tea. "So you're a cannibal then?"

"In ways yes, some no. I don't physically eat people. I eat what's up there." She gestured to her crown.

You looked at the walls of her RV and seen pictures of her hidden on the walls. Some of them she was with a man who had dark hair and others a pretty blonde girl. "So is there more of your friends around or-"

"Family. They were MY family and what is tied can never be untied. I'm the last." The reply came off snappily and handed you your cup of tea, flipping the pictures that you seen completely over.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry." Rose waved her empty hand hand dismissively and sat down across from you, her hands almost breaking the handle of the mug she was holding.

"It's not that they don't matter or they're not significant, it's just that it's not something that you should worry about right now." Rose stippled her tea, not wanting you to see the dismay she felt.

"Here's the deal..I'm going to make you an offer Y/n because I need to move and you're steamy." She eyed you up and down. "How old are you, lovely?"

"(Insert whatever age in your twenties you want to be)." You hummed softly and Rose grinned. "What an age. You know I remember being your age once. Long time ago. I felt lonesome too and then I met someone like myself who showed me I wasn't alone. Wasn't crazy. That's how you felt for a long time, didn't you? Your family didn't understand you. No one did."

"I-i..I don't want to talk about it." You crossed your arms and overted eye contact. "Shhh..Mo grá, it's okay. We all have our deep and dark little secrets in our families. That's what I'm offering you. We could make our own family. The little band of misfits we are. No secrets, no judgment. Stay young, eat well, live long."

The next night you were laying with your head in Rose's lap as she rambled on about what would happen after your turning.

"..Normally we'd have an advanced man who would prepare for a situation like this and would be making accommodations to get you your own trailer but for right now we'll have to make due with what we have." Rose brushed off the situation.

"So I'll be living with you?" She grinned. "You have a twinkle in your eye, don't you honeybunch?"

You said nothing and she smiled. "I see everything in that pretty little head of yours. You're a pleaser aren't you? Or at least you were."

"I bow my head to no one. Made it a point not too a while ago." You growled. "Such passion and so fiery..we'll see about that, love. Enough of that though, we have more important things to worry about. Remember, no fear. Embracing it will make it much easier."

You nodded and she laced her fingers through your hair. "Repeat after me Y/n. Lodsam hanti, we are the chosen ones.."

You did as she said although you were only half paying attention. There was something so sacrificial about the act she was performing on you. The phrase 'eat or be eaten' automatically came to mind.

"Y/n!" Rose snapped her finger infront of your face and you tensed. "That's better..now my love, I'm going to show you something even more special then the both of us combined probably."

You raised an eyebrow as she took a bloodied silver cannister out of the pocket in her shall. "This is Abra..my big whale. This little thing thought she could actually get the last word but we clearly both see the end result of that and she taste like spice."

You looked on mortified as she sucked the girl's steam into her mouth. Maybe you shouldn't embrace it. Maybe you'd go with the death option in the end after all, but then you thought of your friends.

You already new that within a few days time you'd become one of the classing 'Missing' posters but at least then, you'd be alive. The other alternative didn't have that peace of mind. Rose would eat you alive if you weren't where you were right now. You didn't have to be in her head to know that.

Your thoughts were broken though when you seen the cloud infront of your face. "Breath deep. A deep as you can."

Ever so carefully, you did. At first you felt nothing and thought all the talk of the pain was just Rose trying to scare you but then you felt a burning sensation in your stomach. It was subtle but enough to make you notice.

Eventually it began to spread to like wildfire. When it reached your lungs it felt like something was choking you from the inside. Fighting to live, to get out of you.

"Ro-" You attempted to choke out her name but failed. "Shhh...it's okay. Embrace it. Let it feed you."

You tried your hardest but it hurt worse than anything you ever felt before. It hurt like you were dying. Your whimpers turned to screams and you practically feel Rose grinned at you.

Your eye balls collapsed and a ball of blue light rolled into your frame of vision. It wasn't long after that you blacked out.

The next morning you woke up in Rose's bed much to your surprise, with your body still intact. You looked the same physically but you felt..different.

Rose opened the door to her trailer and waved. "Well hi there!" You opened your mouth to yell at her. Ask her what it was that she did to but nothing came out. Only the god awful choking.

Rose immediately made her way over to you with a different cannister. "Deep breaths." You took a huff of the steam and the sensation faded.

"That feel better?" You nodded. "You weren't kidding though when you said it hurt." Rose smiled tightly. "It was worth it though, wasn't it?"

"I guess." You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a pit growing inside you and Rose laughed. "You guess? Just wait til you feel the affects of the steam. It'll give you the best night you ever had."

Your face was blank and she furrowed her brows for a moment and smiled. "Oh honey..you're a virgin, aren't you?" You blushed a little bit and she kissed your cheeks. "Nothing to be ashamed of, my sweet. I was one too at one point but that love, was a long time ago."

You nodded but didn't really pay attention. All you wanted was that sensation to be taken away. Rose took her hat off and gently forced you back onto her bed. "May I?"

You nodded, despite the fear radiating through you as she peppered kisses all over your face and neck. Sure you and your ex kissed but never anything like this.

Rose looked down at you as she made her way down to your collar bone. "Normally I'm not very gentle but for you, I'll try."

You nodded as you felt her nip at your skin. She must of been marking you. It was an annoying sensation but not enough to make you feel hurt. If anything, you felt more flustered.

Rose grinned, clearly getting kicks off the whole thing. She continued to work her way down until she eventually ended up at your lower spot.

You tensed and her face softened. "Easy, Mo grá. If you want me to stop, just let me know." You gripped the sheets on the bed tightly as she began to work her magic on you.

You could barely see her head bobbing up and down in between your thighs. All you could focus on was the passion.

"Rosie!" You gasped not even knowing you struck a chord inside her as you felt your cheeks grow warm and red. "It feels..feels-"

"Amazing?" She looked up at you for a moment. "Yes! More! Please!" You begged as your hips involuntarily buckled up down.

Rose reveled in the whole thing. Yet again, silently admitting Crow was right. Realizing the pleasure she had been depriving herself of over the years.

She chuckled and began to teasingly run her fingers over your folds. "So eager yet so impatient. Practically begging for me to fuck you."

You winced at the tease. "D-does it always feel like this?" You stuttered. "Sex?" Rose rasped. "After we take steam yes, but don't worry about that for right now Mo grá. Let me take care of you."

The rest of her face disappeared again as she got back to work, moaning in pleasure the entire time.

It was intense sex but it was gentle. The feeling of her fingers inside you made you scream in ecstasy.

After a while though you felt tired and that pit began to grow in your stomach. "Rose..I-i-i feel something down there. I don't know if I can do it anymore!"

"That's perfectly okay. Cum for me, my sweet." You waited a few moments to see if she planned on moving her hand and you came.

It was electrifying but it felt amazing. You were panting afterwards and beads of sweat were layered onto both of your skin.

"Rose?" You whispered softly. "Yes love?" She pulled your dress down and scooted up next to you, spooning you the closest to her that she could manage.

"I love you." You murmured and her face went blank. You seen her eyes traveling the walls and tried to pick up on just exactly what she was thinking but found a blank canvas.

After a while she finally spoke. "I love you too Y/n." Rose planted a loving kiss on your temple and nuzzled closely to you. Letting the years of pain and anger she felt finally go. Maybe just maybe, moving on wouldn't be so bad after all.

#doctor sleep #dr sleep #imagine #rose the hat #crow daddy #the true knot #true knot #x reader #smut #the shining #snakebite andi #stephen king #fem reader #answered

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joonsrack · 4 years

Text

+PAIRING: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: SFW, slow burn, ficlet (do people use that term anymore?) mini series, it’s not exactly fluff but it’s soft i guess.

+THE ONE WHERE SEOKJIN IS A PART TIME COP AND A FULL TIME NAMJOONSITTER SERIES: Part I | Part II | Part III

+WORD COUNT: ~3k

+SUMMARY:

“You know hyung, that’s why even though you've got that face, you're still single; you can’t see a good opportunity even when it moves next door.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin says, feeling pretty insulted. He chose to be single, single didn’t chose him.

+WARNINGS: Very brief mention of sexual harassment, abuse of italics.

Awkward is not strong enough a word to describe how meeting Namjoon in their building is.

How do you even act around your attractive new next door neighbour on which you pulled a gun on your first meeting? Jimin is laughing forever, the asshole.

Plus, Jimin keeps telling him he needs to take him out, to 'apologize', but the fucker has already guilt tripped a ride in the police cruiser out of him (without the lights, thank you very much), what more is he supposed to do?

“You know hyung, that’s why even though you've got that face, you're still single; you can’t see a good opportunity even when it moves next door.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin says, feeling pretty insulted. He chose to be single, single didn’t chose him.

“Oh come on, you’re life’s prime example that a good face doesn’t equate having game.” Jimin says, and finds himself two second away from needing a new best friend and roof.

“I don’t know how you came to the conclusion that I had any interest for Namjoon—”

“Hyung, you wrote his name instead of yours on your last report.”

“I was distracted.”

“You downloaded all of their songs even though you despise rap songs.”

“My taste can evolve!”

“You looked him up on facebook and instagram without following or sending a friend request.”

“I—” he starts, but pauses.

Yeah, that last one made it pretty obvious.

A god given opportunity presents itself, and even Seokjin can admit this must be faith. Or fatality. He’s hoping it’s the first one.

He’s coming back home, arms loaded with groceries, and almost turns around and tuck tails once he catches sight of a tall shadow standing in the hallway. He freezes when he hears the tell tale sound of metal snapping,

followed by a low groan that will haunt his dreams forever. He sneaks a look over his shoulder to catch Kim Namjoon, head in his hands, looking… very blond. And despondent. But blond, hi. Gone is the dark silver, his hair bleached almost white.

Seokjin takes a deep calming breath, hoping this will not go as badly as he knows it will. It’s not like it can go worse than their first meeting, so he can at least find joy in that.

“Hello there,” he says, taking slow steps towards the man.

Namjoon takes one look at him, then looks away, avoiding his eyes as red blossoms on his cheeks.

“Before you pull out your gun; as we have already established, I live here, so this is not me trying to break in.”

Ouch.

Seokjin chuckles to cover up the fact that he just got served.

As he gets closer, he spies something in Namjoon’s hand, and; yep, that’s half a key. He could bet his handsome face that the second half is stuck in the lock.

“Looks like you’ll have to call someone for that one.” Seokjin says, approaching the man carefully like he’s a wounded animal. He definitely looks like he’s about to snap.

He’s dressed in all black, and Seokjin is not in uniform, so he indulges in a quick once over while the man is looking at anything but him. Black leather jacket, black jeans, black boots, making his new hair colour stand out even more. The bad boy look is strong with this one, although the knowledge he could probably spill a sippy cup ruins the image a bit.

“You could… call a locksmith and then wait for them at my place, with a cup of tea.” Seokjin tries, and let it be known that he’s got game; Park Jimin can go to hell.

Namjoon looks at him again, this time with a self deprecating smile on his face that breaks Seokjin’s heart in a thousand pieces. There’s dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t had a good night of sleep in a few days.

“If you hold your stuff dear, you better leave me outside.” He says, taking out his cellphone and sending a quick text to someone.

Seokjin makes a quick inventory of every object and furniture currently in his living room, but can’t think of anything that would warrant leaving the blond man sitting duck in the hallway.

“If you just sit nice and tight on the couch, I’m sure I can find a plastic cup somewhere that you can’t break.”

Namjoon looks around, like he’s searching for a reason to say no, but his phone pings then, and he peeks at the incoming text.

“Shit.” He says. “Locksmith can’t make it for at least two hours. And I'm already late. Damnit.”

Seokjin decides to ignore the fact that Namjoon is on texting basis with his locksmith, balancing his groceries in one hand and unlocking the door with his other. He holds the door open, looking expectantly at Namjoon until the man takes the hint and steps hesitantly in his direction.

“Hope you’re insured.” Are his last words before he sets foot in Seokjin’s home.

He takes off his jacket —and who the hell wears a leather jacket in summer—and puts it on a hook, but the hook doesn’t hold and both fall to the ground.

Seokjin is very impressed; a very short second has yet to pass and the destruction has already begun.

“It was loose anyway.” he hurries to say at Namjoon’s blank expression. He grabs the jacket after putting the groceries away on the table and puts it on the back of a chair, then waits until Namjoon steps out of his usual black boots to lead him to the couch.

“It’s an interesting choice, black boots in summer.” He says, to break the silence and awkwardness.

“Steel toe” is the only answer he gets, and it actually makes a lot of sense. It also seems to be a sore subject, so he doesn’t ask about the leather jacket.

With Namjoon looking extremely stiff on his couch, like he’s trying to keep every muscle still, Jin leaves for a moment to put away the groceries and to try and find what he needs to make an accident-prone-person’s cup of tea. Well aware the man is most definitely not immune to spills, he ends up finding an old reusable ice tea Starbucks cup, needing a few minutes to locate the matching straw. He pours their drinks on ice and serves both of them an iced tea.

It’s summer, after all.

He drops the drink on the low table only to look up and realizes his guest is… fast asleep. His head is reclined against the back of the couch, his mouth hanging slack and emitting soft snores. The rest of his body looks locked tight even in his slumber, his hands stuck to his thighs with his legs straight. He looks like he’s used to sleeping without moving a muscle, which just mustn’t be nice. After looking at Namjoon’s sleeping form long enough to effectively feel like a creeper (the loose neck line of his t-shirt exposing a tantalizing amount of collarbone), he finds a small fleece blanket, his AC making the insides of his apartment pleasantly fresh but dangerous for uncovered throats.

As softly and quietly as he can, he covers Namjoon’s whole upper body with the blanket, only leaving his head poking out.

He looks proudly at his work after taking a step back, but the stupid smile on his face disappears once he realizes he just babied a grown ass man who he barely knows. Namjoon will probably think this is weird, right?

He’s tempted to take back the blanket to preserves his dignity, but risking the man waking up as he’s ripping it off him is not a position he wants to find himself in.

He settles for sitting on the other side of the couch, sipping at his glass quietly, trying to stop his eyes from wandering to the man’s sleeping form and failing pretty badly.

In the end, his glass empty and discarded on the coffee table, Namjoon’s even breathing ends up making his own lids feel heavy. It’s his first day off in a while, and the first few hours of it have been spent running around the city, so before he knows it, he’s joining the other man in dreamland.

“There’s a hot young man doing things to your neighbour’s door knob that will star in my wet dreams for and undetermined futu— Hyung, What the hell.” Is what Seokjin’s wakes up to.

He’s laying on his side, head pillowed on a nice and comfy surface that is sadly tensing up by the second, and that’s how Seokjin knows he will never be able to look at Namjoon in the eyes again.

He dares to crack an eye, and once he confirms his very pillowed head on Namjoon’s very thighs, he takes back everything he earlier thought.

How naive it was of him to believe he couldn’t do worse than their first meeting.

He uses every single muscle in his body to roll off the couch as fast as possible, his fight or flight response deeming it the quickest way to get off Namjoon’s lap. His body connect to the floor with a heavy thud, but not before knocking the coffee table hard enough to make Namjoon’s untouched drink inevitably topple off. His spill-proof solution proves itself insufficient as the lids pops open and the chilled tea explodes all over his chest, soaking his whole torso.

Wearing his thin and light pink summer shirt had seemed like such a good idea that morning, the sunny and clear sky promising a beautiful day. Now, as the fabric clings to his chest leaving nothing to the imagination, he curses the day he ever bought it.

As he lays still on the floor, cold liquid dripping off him and on the carpet, he takes a moment to regret every single decisions that lead him to this very moment. At the top of that list is of course, listening to Jimin’s advice. One day, he’ll take the time to think about how funny it is that every bad things that happened in his life can be linked back to that particular man.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is still staring from the and Namjoon is still perfecting his imitation of a statue on the couch.

Seokjin can’t see his face from his position on the floor, until the man reclines forward to look over the edge of the couch and down at him.

“First, abuse of firearm, and now sexual harassment? You've been a very exemplary police officer these past few weeks, Kim Seokjin-ssi.” He says, the only hint that he’s joking the small smirk stretching his lips. Seokjin covers his face in shame. “It’s always a relief to see that some people can embarrass themselves as much as me.”

Seokjin feels a warm hand on his forearm pulling it away from his face. He lets himself be pulled off the floor, Namjoon standing up with him as he helps him up.

“Hyung, cover your damn tiddies for Christ sake.”

“Shut up Taehyung.” Seokjin says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, feeling a faint blush dust his cheeks. “What are you even doing here?”. Namjoon, like a true gentleman, offers the blanket to him without a word.

“Dad told me mom told him Jimin told her you had a crush on your new-“ Taehyung doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as Seokjin pounces on him, hands covering his mouth to shut him up, knowing very well where this story is leading. “Taehyung,” He says with an edge to his voice and a glint in his eyes, “-meet my neighbour, Kim Namjoon. He moved in a few weeks ago.” Realization crosses his brother’s features, and he looks apologetic for all of two second before he pushes the hands off his mouth. “So you might know who’s that delicious piece of man currently greasing up your knob?”

Namjoon looks a bit dumbfounded before he answers, uncertain. “Probably my locksmith? I wouldn’t use those exact words to describe his profession, though.” He shrugs.

“Would you happen to know his name? Current relationship status? Sexual orientation? Better yet, favourite colour? ” His younger brother says, hope blooming in his eyes.

“Huh.” Namjoon’s phone rings, saving him from the onslaught of questions. He checks who it is before answering, and a smile blooms on his face, his dimples hitting Seokjin straight in the guts.

“Hey! How's my baby?”

Seokjin’s heart stops and shatters at his feet; His baby.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, too busy spiralling down into self pity. Of course someone as attractive as Namjoon wouldn’t be single. Of course. He feels so stupid.

The phone call doesn’t last long, ending on a quick “see you in a few”, but it’s long enough for Seokjin to have sweared off love altogether and made a vow of celibacy, with very nice plans of moving to a desert island. He'll have so many cats.

“Soo, baby huh.” He says, barely containing the distaste in his voice. If Namjoon notices, he doesn’t show. He gives them both a shy smile, and Seokjin has had enough with this man. “Well, run along now, we wouldn’t want to hold you back too long, in case your baby gets impatient.”

Namjoon looks at him weirdly then, just catching on the tone of his voice. Nevertheless, he chuckles the awkwardness away before answering. “She’s kind of a diva I guess. And she always needs new stuff, quite the expensive girl that one.” Taehyung turns pitying eyes towards him.

Namjoon got himself a gold digger. He doesn’t even look like he has money.

“But she's the best ride there is.” Namjoon says, and Seokjin holds back a gag. T.M. goddamn. I. There’s a part of him that’s ready to cancel Namjoon for his apparent fuck boy personality. There’s also another part, one that is deeply buried inside of him, that gets a twisted sense of satisfaction from knowing that if that’s how Namjoon talks about the girl, she mustn’t be all that special to him. He’s a cop though, and an outspoken feminist, so he shuts that part up, ready himself for a nice lecture on respecting women and how to do it.

Taehyung beats him to it.

“That’s a very misogynist way to put it, mr. neighbour.”

“What?” Namjoon, says, looking confused. “How is it... misogynist to say I like to ride my bike?”

The word bike reverberate in the silence of the living room, Taehyung exchanging a look with Seokjin as the both of them realize the misunderstanding, leaving Namjoon looking nonplussed.

“Bike, as in motorcycle?” His brother asks.

Namjoon looks between the two of them, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Yes? What did you think I was talking about.... ah. Yeah, i guess that can be confusing.”

Seokjin’s relief is short lived; It only takes a few second for the meaning of it all to sink in; the sexy fucker is also a sexy biker, how is Seokjin supposed to get any sleep at night now?

The leather jacket in summer makes so much more sense.

Seokjin’s mouth feels dry for reasons he can very much explain. “Isn’t that a bit… dicey, though?” He doesn’t say for someone like you, but it hangs in the air, and Namjoon seems to hear it loud and clear.

He smirks like someone who’s used to this exact reaction.

“There’s two things I’ve never broken in this world; Music equipments and vehicles.”

Seokjin nods calmly to cover up the fact that his inside are a mess. Figures Hearts aren’t on that list.

“Alright, I need to go talk to my locksmith.” Taehyung’s eyes lights up again. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” He finishes, nodding in his direction, a shy smile on his face.

“Anytime.” Seokjin says faintly, still processing everything. “And I’m sorry for, you know, the whole falling asleep on you.” His blush must be covering him all over by now. He might never got back to his normal colour. He tries to laugh the embarrassment away, but all it does is make his crush look even more obvious.

Namjoon looks at him then, the cogs clearly turning in his head. Once he seems to finally have reached a conclusion, his expression twist into something different. Something that looks suspiciously... flirtatious?

“Don’t worry about it. Having a lap full of handsome has never been a problem for me.”

Let it be known Seokjin has rarely been rendered speechless. For a second he thinks he just hallucinated it, but then Namjoon unmistakably winks at him.

Seokjin’s mind goes blank. Where did the shy guy from before go?

“You know where to find me if you ever want a ride. I kind of owe you one.” He adds before leaving, closing the door behind himself.

Seokjin is too stunned to make a noise, so it’s Taehyung who breaks the silence.

“I aspire to have that level of game.”

Seokjin agrees.

Fin 1.1

Namjoon has already left to pick up his motorcycle from the auto shop, trusting Jungkook to lock up behind himself. After all, they’ve bonded over Namjoon’s difficulties with locks for the last few years, and can now be considered good friends.

He’s pretty much done, gathering his tools before leaving.

Somebody comes out of an apartment next door as he’s packing up. He doesn’t pay it any attention until the person clears their throat for a solid fifteen second. Turning around curiously, he catches sight of a particularly pretty man, probably around his age, locking up very loudly. He wouldn’t give it more attention if the young man wasn’t looking right at him with a weird smile. He’s locking the door with fervour, never breaking eye contact while he clearly struggles, and a particular hard twist even succeeds in making Jungkook wince.

When the inevitable happens and the key snaps under the pressure, the man lets out the fakest sound of despair Jungkook has ever heard, maintaining eye contact and looking like the cat that got the canary.

“Oh!~ What am I to do!~ I don’t know any locksmith...”

Jungkook has a feeling he should, perhaps, run.

He doesn’t.

Fin 1.2

#magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #armysource #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #namjin #mxm #bangtanscenery

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keichanz · 5 years

Text

Smooth

I’m not even kidding when I say this literally came out of absolutely freakin’ nowhere while I was at work today and I just had to write it sooo here, have this funny little oneshot that I had so much fun writing lol

Smooth talking Inuyasha is smooth as fuck and honestly i want him to do naughty things to me lajdf;ajfi okay soRRY HERE’S THE STORY

“Hey there, gorgeous. How about a smile? Bet you’ll look even prettier.”

The familiar press of a hand against her scantily clad ass had Kagome freezing in her tracks and a force smile to spread across her face as she slowly turned to face the what seemed to be the nth pervert that night that couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

She was greeted with a wolfish smile and a suggestive leer coming from starling blue eyes that made her skin crawl. Wisely the man retracted his hand and gave her an obvious once over, male approval in his gaze as he took in the short leather skirt that barely covered her ass and the matching blank and red corset that she was forced to wear as part of her “uniform.”

It was the most ridiculous thing Kagome had ever been required to wear for a job, but her boss insisted on it, and she needed this job, so she sort of had no choice in the matter. Still, it was the number one reason why she’d been felt up so many times this night, as well as any other night she worked here at The Tipsy Monk, and she swore she was not going to be held responsible for her actions if some pervert grabbed her ass one more time...

“Can I get you anything?” Kagome managed to girt out through her forced smile and inconspicuously edged herself away from him. A brief flash of silver caught her peripheral and she flicked a curious glance toward at, but it was already gone so she tuned he attention back to what appeared to be the wolf demon in front of her.

Teeth flashed in a charming grin and Kagome mentally groaned. Oh god, here we go—

“For starters, sweet thing, you can get me your number.” He waggled his eyebrows at her like it was the most clever pick up line in the entire world.

Kagome had heard better lines from her cat.

Still keeping the fake smile pasted on her lips – luckily this guy looked dumb enough to fall for it – Kagome tittered and cooed, “Well, give me your phone, big guy.”

The wolf looked shocked for a minute, like he actually couldn’t believe that it had worked, before frantically searching in all of his pockets for the elusive device and then withdrawing it with a sound of triumph a full minutes later.

Tucking her server tray under an arm, Kagome wordlessly took the device from him, went into his contacts and added a number that consisted of all zeroes before handing it back to him with the same false, sugary sweet smile.

“I don’t get off until ten, though, so make sure to call me after that, yeah?” Kagome said, tipping a pink to the shell shocked wolf demon and then promptly turning around to continue her work, immediately dropping the smile and rolling her eyes so hard it hurt.

Determined to ignore the handsy wolf demon for the rest of the night – she heard a badly stifled “fuck yes” and had to refrain from rolling her eye again – Kagome sighed and tried not to look at the clock as she approached the nearest table and started piling empty glasses onto her tray.

She was exhausted, the leather was chafing uncomfortably against her skin, her feet were killing her in the only pair of heels she owned that went with her monotonicity of a uniform, and she was one badly timed grope away from fucking decking the next asshole that dared put his hand on her like she was a piece of meat.

“I need this job, I need this job, I need this job...” Kagome muttered to herself as she wiped down the polished wood then headed back to the counter to drop off the empties and get a fresh round for the table in the back that liked to tip in twenty’s.

Well, Kagome mused as Sango smiled sympathetically and prepared her order. At least that’s one good thing coming from such a crappy night.

A little ways down the bar, sitting on the bar stool and nursing a cold brew, amber eyes discreetly studied the black-haired bombshell with the great legs leaning over the counter and chatting with the tender as she waited for her order. He wasn’t blind; of course he noticed how it looked as if she’d been poured into that mini skirt and corset, the leather clinging to her figure in all the right places and showing off a generous amount of cleavage he wouldn’t mind getting closely acquainted with.

The thing was, though, Inuyasha wasn’t the only one who’d noticed and it was very obvious her patience was running thin. He’d noticed her the instant he’d walked into bar at around 6 pm and he’d been watching her get grabbed at and handled all night. Anger on her behalf always flared up whenever he spotted some asshat daring to put his dirty mitts on her, and he was relieved to see that she handled herself beautifully, always skirting away with a smile and a playful wag of a finger. He knew her smile was forced, though, and as the hours dragged on the strain was becoming that much more evident.

He suspected the next poor sod that made the unfortunate decision to grab that perfect ass was going to get throat punched. And Inuyasha was going to revel in it.

Frowning, the silver-haired hanyou tipped back the rest of his beer and fished out a twenty to pay for his tab. While it was hard for him to get truly drunk, he still wanted a clear head just in case he had to intervene if one of the aforementioned poor sods decided to ignore her chaste reprimand and get a little more than just handsy with the attractive waitress.

Bar brawls were uncommon in a place like The Tipsy Monk – Miroku had a very strict policy that all fights be taken outside or you were banned indefinitely – but Inuyasha had more than once had to step in before things got out of control between drunken patrons.

Disagreements between female employee and male customer were at a grand total of zero, and he’d like to keep it that way. He was sure Miroku felt similarly.

Preoccupied as she was avoiding grabby hands, delivering drinks, and keeping up a cheerful disposition while most likely trying to maintain a regular breathing pattern in that tight as fuck corset, his beautiful waitress failed to notice his blatant staring so Inuyasha continued to watch her, propping an elbow on the bar and resting his head in his hand. He made sure to pay special attention to the wolfshit that had so boldly asked for her number earlier, and though he doubted she’d put her actual number in her phone, he didn’t know that and as such he might think it was grounds to get a little more confident with his moves.

Keh. Inuyasha narrowed his eyes.

Not on his fucking watch.

The night dragged on until suddenly it was last call and thankfully his services hadn’t been needed. His little vixen in leather had successfully managed to dodge wandering hands for the remainder of the night, the wolf hadn’t approached again, apparently content with his perceived success, and Inuyasha felt confident in leaving the bar for the employees to start closing.

He didn’t go far, though, only going a few feet away and leaning against the brick wall of the neighboring building as he waited for his pretty waitress to leave. He knew Miroku was always the last one out, and he never let his female employees leave through back entrance at night. Sure, he may be a pretty sketchy pervert, but he was a decent guy where it counted and he did care for the welfare of his employees. Knowing this, you’d think the guy would allow his waitresses to dress in a way that did not draw the male gaze.

So, decent guy? Yes. Smart?

Nope.

The door opened and the bartender exited first, a tall brunette by the name of Sango who’d given him his beers with a friendly smile. She was fairly new and Inuyasha liked her. She waved at him, he waved back, and then his beautiful bombshell appeared right after her and his face lit up.

He watched as she bid a weary farewell to the tender and then walked in the opposite direction, away from him, and she appeared to be digging around in her purse for something as she walked down the street, distracted.

Pushing back from the wall Inuyasha followed after her, opening his mouth to call out for her to wait when he stepped on something with a slight give and he paused, looking down because that hadn’t been pavement.

Black brows popped up into the silver fringe of his bangs and Inuyasha knelt down to snatch up the rectangular object. It was one of those wallet phone case combo things, where one could slid their phone into the designated sleeve while the rest of it operated like a regular wallet, credit card slots and everything.

He opened it up and grinned. Staring back at him was his beautiful brown-eyed waitress, smiling from the photo on her license through the clear sleeve. Her phone was safely tucked away and secured in its own spot and when his thumb touched the screen, he chuckled when the screen came to life and he saw her lock screen was a picture of a very fat cat.

“Cute,” he mumbled before closing it up and making sure it was closed. Then he took off after her, glad he had the excuse to approach her now and not come off as some creeper waiting for her shift to end.

You know. Like what he was doing before she dropped her wallet.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Inuyasha caught up with her just as she rounded the corner and reached out to stop her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Hey—”

Throwing him completely by surprise, Kagome Higurashi swung around, balled her fist, and decked him right in the fucking face.

“I’ve had it with you grabby perverts!” she hollered before promptly turning on her heel with a huff and stomping off, deciding to hail a taxi instead of walking the block to her apartment. She flagged one down in short order and didn’t even look at the scumbag still lying on the ground as she climbed inside, muttered her address, and disappeared down the street.

Stunned, Inuyasha could do nothing but lie there and stare up at the dark sky as his mind slowly processed what had just happened.

Jesus Christ, she had just punched him. Hard. And it had actually knocked him off his feet.

Holy fuck, he was in love.

Sitting up onto his elbows, Inuyasha gingerly touched his jaw and stared down the road where she’d taken off, his face completely awestruck even as a smile slowly worked its way onto his lips.

Then he winced because his jaw protested the muscle use and then he had to chuckle despite the pain. In all of his thirty years of life, nobody, not a fully-grown demon or even his asshole of a half-brother, had managed to hit him hard enough where it actually knocked him on his ass.

And then this little slip of a woman wearing a fucking mini skirt and a corset comes along, gets harassed for a few hours by drunken men, and then easily sends him flying with one swing.

Inuyasha was not ashamed to admit that he was not fully and absolutely smitten and he had to make her his. Beautiful, wily, and gutsy—god, she was fucking perfect and he’d be damned if that was the last time he ever saw her.

Heaving himself to his feet with a grunt and ignoring the already fading pain in his jaw, Inuyasha opened up her wallet once again and quickly found what he was looking for. He grinned. Turned out she only lived about a block away from here so at least that was in his favor.

Chuckling, Inuyasha stashed the wallet combo in his jacket, gave one last look down the street where she disappeared, and turned around to head back home himself. He’d give it back tomorrow—tonight he figured she’d need time to cool off and it was late anyway. No doubt all she’d want to do is pass out after a long night of fending off creeps and he didn’t blame her one bit.

Smirking to himself, feeling proud and more than a little excited for what tomorrow would bring, Inuyasha shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled leisurely down the street, really looking forward to the next day for the first time in a long time.

Standing outside the apartment complex, Inuyasha compared the address to the one printed on her license one last time and nodded to herself. This was it—Sakura Landing Apartment Houses. It was a nice little community, where all the buildings looked the same, with maybe two or three apartments in each one, and each apartment had its own parking place.

He approved of it. It was safe, quiet, and smelled nice, which was always a bonus for him.

Tucking Kagome’s wallet into his back pocket – he’d foregone a jacket today since it was warm out – Inuyasha strolled farther into the community and searched for the number he wanted, his ears detecting children’s laugher, the rumble of cars, and doors opening and closing. Kagome’s building should be somewhere in the middle, number six...ah, there it was.

He jogged up to the maroon door with the gold figures of 6B nailed onto the center, took a moment to admire the pretty flowers hanging from either side, before raising a hand and ringing the bell. It was a little after 10 am and he hoped she was awake—

His ears pricked forward at the sound of approaching footsteps on the other side of the door and he grinned, happy he was finally going to see her again after a long twelve hours. Would she remember him? Coo in sympathy when she saw the bruise on his jaw? Usher him inside with a kind smile and gently treat it—

The door swung open and big brown eyes blinked at him in utter bafflement.

“Who are you and what the hell happened to your face?”

Inuyasha balked. Blinked. And then cocked a brow. “What, you don’t remember?”

He received a blank stare.

“You did this to my face.”

Kagome blinked.

Inuyasha’s stare was deadpan. “Last night. 10 pm. The Tipsy Monk. You were leaving.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh.” The she frowned and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Did you follow me, you—”

Inuyasha wordlessly held out her wallet case and all color drained from Kagome’s face.

“Oh...damn.”

Inuyasha lifted another brow. “You dropped this and I wanted to give it back.”

“Ohmigod I’m so sorry I thought you were--”

“Another pervert, I know.” At her surprised look he explained, “Couldn’t help but notice you were getting a lot of unwanted attention no thanks to that ridiculous uniform. The good for nothing you call your boss is a fucking pervert and it’s for his own selfish pleasure than anything else. Show up to work tonight in jeans and a t-shirt and when he asks why tell him Inuyasha says ‘fuck off.’“

Kagome blinked. “You know Miroku?”

“Unfortunately he’s my best friend. Clear lapse in sanity on my part fifteen years ago when I met the guy and now I can’t get rid of him. I’ve tried but he’s a cockroach. He won’t die and always come back.”

Kagome giggle-snorted despite herself before reaching out to finally take back her phone and wallet with an abashed smile.

“Thank you,” she breathed, flipping it open to see several missed calls and a few texts on he phone. “I was in such a hurry to go home last night that I didn’t even realize I dropped it.”

Inuyasha shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad I was the one that found it instead of one of your creepy admirers.”

Her smile grew. “Me, too.”

He smirked at her and it just suddenly hit Kagome that this man was downright attractive. With eyes the color of golden whiskey, long silver hair that reached his waist and the most adorable ears that sat atop his head, she surmised that he must be a demon of some kind, maybe that of a canine variety judging by the sinful flash of fang and the claws tipping his fingers.

An answering pulse of purely feminine appreciation curled in her belly and Kagome bit her lip, aware that she was shamelessly gawking, but not particularly caring. The already fading bruise on his jaw didn’t subtract from his attractiveness at all and Kagome was suddenly very glad she’d dropped her wallet and phone last night.

“See somethin’ ya like?” his amused voice interrupted her shameless admiration.

“Mmhm,” Kagome answered without even thinking and it was only when he released a throaty chuckle did she realize what she said and she smacked a hand over her mouth with a gasp, dark eyes going very wide as she snapped them back to his face from where they’d been openly staring at his chest.

In an attempt to save face and unable to control the blush that heated her face, Kagome cleared her throat and laughed nervously, directing her gaze toward the bruise she’d given him instead of his eyes.

“Ah, um, listen, I’m so sorry for punching you last night,” she said and reached up to brush her fingers across his jaw, caught herself at the last minute and hastily brought her traitorous hand back down with another flush.

She cleared her throat again and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’d, ah, really like to make it up to you, but I’m working the afternoon shift today and I don’t get off until six.” Her smile was equal parts shy and hopeful then as she tentatively queried, “Do you...have any plans after that?”

Amber eyes flashed and fangs were revealed as his mouth stretched into a wicked smirk. Bracing one arm on the doorjamb and leaning forward, Inuyasha looked directly into her eyes and liked the way her breath hitched in her throat, her already enticing scent darkening with a heady spice that elicited a pleased growl from his throat.

“If I’m being honest here,” he rumbled, eyes heavy-lidded, “with any luck, I’ll be getting off with you.”

It took Kagome a minute to process just what he said and coupled with that devastating smirk on his face Kagome’s brain was having difficulty computing. But when it finally registered her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped, and she could only gawk incredulously at him while he looked quite pleased with himself at her reaction.

“You smooth bastard,” Kagome finally breathed after she found her voice again and Inuyasha merely waggled his brows at her, his smirk turning into a shit-eating grin.

“Charmed the panties right off ya, didn’t I?” he cheeked, amber eyes glinting mischievously.

Kagome snickered and couldn’t contain her grin, dark eyes alight with amusement. “Oh, you know it. I’m feelin’ the breeze, baby.”

Inuyasha laughed and thought fuck, this was the girl for him. She was it. He had to have her. He had to.

“You know,” Kagome suddenly purred and Inuyasha was instantly alert, body responding to the rather provocative lilt to her voice and really liking that suggestive little curl to her lips as she stepped closer to him. “That does kinda looks like it hurts...and it is my fault...”

Inuyasha’s gaze went hooded when she placed her hands on his chest and he shifted a little closer, reaching down to rest his own hands on her hips.

“Yeah?” he husked, not about to admit that it would fade away within the hour. And he most definitely was not about to admit that he’d decked himself before coming over because the one she’d given him yesterday had already been long gone.

“Mmhm,” she hummed and tilted her head back as he slid her palms up his chest to grasp his shoulders. “Soo, why don’t you come inside and I can treat that for you while you show me what other things that slick mouth of yours can do, hmm?”

Inuyasha’s response to that was to give a heady growl, hook his hands beneath her thighs to lift her up against him, and then walk them into her apartment, leaning forward to capture her grinning mouth with his own as he reached back with a foot and kicked the door shut.

“Uh...Kagome...”

“Mm?”

Pausing on her way to wash off a few tables, Kagome turned toward her boss and tilted her head, expression inquisitive.

Miroku chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck as he eyed what she was wearing. Or moreover, the lack of uniform that he was seeing. “What are you wearing?”

She blinked. “Clothes?”

“Well, yes,” he said with a frown. “But where’s your uniform?” Forlornly he dropped his gaze to the long legs donned in blue jeans and stifled a whimper. He liked those legs...

Kagome blinked again and then a frown pulled her brows down over her eyes and she cocked a hip to the side as she tapped her lips with a finger, propping her free hand on her hip.

“Y’know, I think I was supposed to tell you something about that, but I can’t remember...oh, right! Miroku.” Kagome looked right at him and her boss balked.

Utterly perplexed, Miroku eyed her warily and ventured cautiously, “...Yes?”

She beamed brightly at him and said, “Inuyasha says, ‘fuck off.’”

Loud and boisterous laughter abruptly came from the bar and Miroku turned to gape at his best friend as he proceeded to lose his shit. Evidently having been in the middle of taking a drink of his beer, he’d ended up spewing his mouthful onto the bar top but he hardly noticed as he sat there laughing his ass off, one hand covering his face while the other loosely circled his pint glass.

Feeling quite proud of herself while her boss stood there and gawked at her lover, Kagome piped up, “Gotta get back to work, boss,” then cheerfully skipped off, humming a jaunty little tune under breath and unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face.

Realizing that his damned best friend had managed to snag his best – and most attractive – employee, Miroku scowled, flipped off the laughing hanyou and then promptly skulked away to see if he could entice the new girl Sango to wear the uniform. She had nice legs as well, but that ass...

His hand twitched and he walked a little faster.

About an hour or so later, during a lull in the evening where business was slow and the employees could take a short breather, Kagome snuck up behind the lone man sitting at the bar and slipped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her hands to his stomach as she rested her chin on his shoulders.

“Well, hey there, handsome.”

Grinning, Inuyasha set down his beer and gently tapped the hands. They released him and he wasted no time in spinning around on his bar stool to face laughing brown eyes and full smiling lips.

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he returned smoothly and snagged her hips, dragging her forward to stand between his spread knees.

“Must be fate.” With an impish curve to her mouth, Kagome looped her arms around his neck and smiled at him, her eyes going soft as she idly played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No doubt.”

He leaned forward and Kagome met him halfway, humming in appreciation as his mouth caught hers in a slow, lazy kiss that sent tingles of pleasure curling in her belly. It was amazing, how comfortable she felt already with this man she’d met only just that morning. Maybe it really was fate, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it. Kagome was never one to question a good thing when it fell into her lap.

Or maybe in this instance, fell against her lips?

She grinned and she felt his lips curl upward in response, nipping gently at the soft skin before pulling back with a contented rumble. She sighed and melted against him, eyes fluttering open to find him staring down at her with an arrogant glint in his eyes.

“That good, huh?” he asked, not bothering to hide the hint of smugness lacing his tone.

“Oh, you know me,” Kagome murmured, reaching up to teasingly flick his ear. “Can’t resist a smooth talker.”

Inuyasha wiggled his eyebrows and shamelessly admitted, “I got more.”

Kagome huffed out a laugh and maneuvered herself to perch on his thigh, keeping her arms around his. In response he moved his arms to circle her waist in a loose embrace, reluctant to release her.

“Oh? Dare I ask?” Kagome teased and arched an expectant brow.

With a positively sinful smirk Inuyasha leaned forward to nip at her nose and then breath against her lips, “Are you a piece of art because I sure as hell nailed you against the wall earlier.”

Kagome gasped and then promptly dissolved into giggles, burying her face in he shoulder while Inuyasha sat there and grinned proudly.

“Okay,” Kagome managed through her mirth, lifting her head to reveal a flushed face and a wide smile. “I have to admit, that one was good.”

“A guarantee for at least some head,” Inuyasha lewdly remarked and Kagome’s loud snort didn’t even faze him.

“Oh, yeah,” Kagome agreed, the sarcasm heavy in her voice, but she was smiling broadly at him. “The urge to suddenly drop to my knees is positively staggering.”

“Carpet at my place is pretty soft,” he not so subtly hinted, grinning as he nipped at her jaw and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck.

“Really, now,” Kagome murmured, her eyes fluttering close as he trailed hot kisses along the slender column of her throat. “But what about work? I still have two hours.”

Inuyasha grunted. “Tell Miroku I said—”

“‘Fuck off’?” Kagome supplied, opening her eyes and biting her lip to keep from grinning. She failed.

“No.” After sucking a bruise onto her neck, Inuyasha trailed his mouth back up to her lips and growled against them, “Tell him you need to leave because my dick is made of Skittles and you need to taste the rainbow.”

“Oh, be still my heart.”

“What can I say,” Inuyasha growled before pressing a brief kiss to her lips and then leaning back, heated amber eyes locking with impassioned brown as a hint of fang flashed from a wicked smirk.

“I’m a smooth talker.”

shoutout to my discord ladies for giving me the idea of having Kagome give Kouga a number with all zeros and even though I didn’t write it, he totally called that number after 10 and wondered why it wasn’t working ahahah xD

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

Quiet

Don’t Wake Steve - A Stucky Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 1692

Warnings: Smut (Bi MMF threesome, sex while someone is asleep, dirty talk, vaginal sex, anal sex, come play)

Synopsis: The story of when Bucky and Steve first started having sex beside you.

Quiet

Steve watched you as you slept. He watched the faint flicker of your eyes movement behind the lids and the gradual rise and fall of your chest. There was something magical about how completely at ease you looked. He loved how peaceful and still you were. How nothing seemed to wake you. Even when either he or Bucky had nightmares. You’d just roll a little closer and hold them a little tighter.

Bucky stirred on the other side of you. His face scrunched up and his muscles started to twitch. You rolled over and pulled yourself closer to Bucky without waking at all. Sometimes that movement would soothe him. Not this time though. Bucky whimpered, his hands started opening and closing and his legs twitched. Steve reached over and started stroking his fingers through Bucky’s hair and down the back of his neck.

Bucky gasped and his eyes flew open. He looked around wildly for a moment until he realized where he was and relaxed back into the mattress panting.

“Bad one?” Steve asked, rubbing Bucky’s hip.

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky replied. He turned his head in the direction of you and Steve. “Did I wake you?”

Steve shook his head. “No. I was just watching you both sleep.”

Bucky laughed softly. “Ya creeper.” He looked down at you still sleeping, your grip on him relaxing.

“I love how soundly she sleeps, don’t you?” Steve said, brushing some of your hair of your face. “That nightmare you had would have woken me.”

Bucky pressed his lips to your forehead. “I honestly don’t think anything would wake her.” He watched you for a moment before springing up and grinning at Steve.

“What is that smile for?” Steve said with a laugh.

“I think we could do anything and she wouldn’t wake up.” He said, stalking over your sleeping form towards Steve.

“Bucky! We can’t!” He yelped. Bucky crawled up over Steve, straddling his lap. He leaned in looking right into Steve’s blue eyes and teased his lips over Steve’s. “Why can’t we?” He asked. He brought his lips to Steve’s and kissed him hungrily. His tongue circled over Steve’s and pushed into his mouth. As they kissed he rocked his hips just a little, making Steve’s cock stiffen under him. Steve moaned into his mouth making Bucky’s cock twitch in his boxers.

Bucky pulled back, tugging on Steve’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Why can’t we?”

“She’s asleep right next to us,” Steve said, his concern wavering.

Bucky nuzzled into Steve’s neck. “What’s the big deal.” He said, nibbling at the spot just under his ear. “We each pair off sometimes. She knows that. Like you said, she won’t wake for anything. And if she does, she once woke me with her mouth on my dick. We’ll just let her join in.”

Steve’s hands slide up Bucky’s thighs and grip his ass. Bucky’s cock jumped again as blood rushed to it. He took a deep shuddering breath. “You’re a very bad man, James Barnes.” Steve purred.

Bucky crawled a little lower. His lips skimming over Steve’s throat and his hands sliding up under the tank top he wore. “And I’m going to do very bad things, Steven Rogers.” He growled.

Steve raised his arms above his head and gripped the headboard as Bucky moved lower still. He pulled Steve’s boxer off as he moved. Steve’s cock sprung up and lay against his stomach. Twitching each time Bucky sucked or grazed his teeth against Steve’s skin.

Bucky flattened his tongue and ran it up Steve’s shaft. When he reached the head he flicked his tongue over it and nipped at the foreskin. Steve arched up. Aching for more.

Bucky backed off, just giving the tip of Steve’s cock little kitten licks. Steve whined. “Buck, please.” He said, looking down at his lover.

“Oh so now you want to wake her huh, Stevie?” Bucky teased playfully. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Steve loved when Bucky got like this. It wasn’t often that he just let himself get playful the way he had been before the war. Seeing him not only relaxed but teasing was something that turned Steve on more than just about anything else. “Fuck. Bucky. I want you to suck my dick.”

Bucky ran his tongue up Steve’s length again. He sucked on the head, flicking his tongue over the slit. He pulled off with a graphic slurp and looked back up at Steve. “You better be quiet, Stevie. You don’t wanna wake our girl.”

Steve pulled his tank top over his head. He nodded to Bucky. “I will.” He breathed.

Bucky plunged his mouth down onto Steve’s cock, taking his cock to the point it made him gag and pull back. Steve gasped and his hips bucked up. Forcing himself down Bucky’s throat again briefly. Bucky’s hands gripped onto Steve’s hip and pushed him back down and started to bob his head up and down.

The two maintained eye contact while Bucky sucked Steve’s cock. He took his time. Rolling his tongue and hollowing his cheeks. His hands roamed. He cupped and tugged on Steve’s balls. Massaged his perineum and teased his asshole.

Steve squirmed. His muscles clenched and relaxed. His hands gripped at the headboard. He wanted to just give up control. To allow himself to be loud, but he could feel the press of your body against his and when he glanced in your direction the fact you were sleeping so peacefully added some level of taboo to the whole thing. So instead he clenched his teeth to stifle the moans he wanted to allow himself to make.

Bucky pulled off and looked up at Steve smirking. “Nice control, Stevie.” Bucky teased moving beside him. They kissed. It was graphic and wet. They moaned against each other’s lips. Steve’s hand went to Bucky’s cock and slowly started pumping it.

Bucky reached into the bedside table and grabbed the lube. He guided Steve onto his side facing you and lay down behind him. Steve watched you sleep as Bucky slicked his cock. The mere idea of being fucked so close to you while you slept made his cock twitch and leak.

Bucky hooked his leg over Steve’s hip. “Think she’ll sleep through this.” He whispered in Steve’s ear as he teased his asshole with the tip of his cock.

Steve let out a soft moan and leaned back. They kissed again as Bucky eased into his ass. Steve could not keep quiet as Bucky thrust into him. Bucky went slow, trying to let Steve keep control. It was still too much for him. He arched into Bucky. He reached back holding Bucky’s shoulder and moaned loudly. Bucky put his hand over Steve’s mouth. “Shh… You gotta be quiet.” He whispered in Steve’s ear.

It was unnecessary though. You didn’t stir. You didn’t stir while Steve arched back into Bucky. You only shifted slightly when his knee pressed into your side as he raised it so that Bucky could penetrate him deeper. You only rolled onto your side as Steve cried out and Bucky made a deep guttural moan.

Steve completely came apart under Bucky. He had fire in his veins. When Bucky’s metal hand caressed his skin, it made goosebumps break out from the extreme temperature difference.

Behind him, Bucky’s face was set. He bit into Steve’s shoulder and kissed his throat. Sweat beaded on his skin. His balls pulled tight and he could feel his release right there, ready to break. “I’m gonna come.” He breathed.

Steve moaned. “I’m right - I’m right there.”

Bucky wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock, pumping it. Steve groaned and clenched around Bucky’s cock. They came together with a loud moan. Bucky releasing into Steve’s ass while Steve spilled hot come in ribbons on your leg.

“Oh god.” Steve groaned in ecstasy. Bucky slipped from within him and it was then that Steve realized what he had done. “Oh god!” He yelped.

He scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom grabbing a wet washer. He ran back to find Bucky on his back, one leg bent, completely lost to silent hysterical laughter. Steve quickly wiped you clean glaring at Bucky.

“You can’t ever tell her that happened.” He whispered.

“Oh come on, Steve.” Bucky wheezed. “She’ll think it was funny.”

“No. She can’t know.” Steve snapped. He cleaned himself up and then threw the balled up cloth at Bucky before pulling some clothes on. “I’m going to go make her breakfast in bed. I feel terrible.”

Bucky followed him out still giggling.

You woke later to an empty bed. That wasn’t uncommon. Bucky and Steve always woke up at the crack of dawn to train. You lay there for a moment, just coming to terms with actually having to be awake. You stretched and sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

Just as you were about to stand the door swung out and Steve came through with a tray full of pancakes and fresh fruit. There was a steaming mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He said, overly cheerily. “We made you breakfast in bed.”

You looked him up and down trying to think if you’d missed some special occasion. It wasn’t an anniversary and it definitely wasn’t your birthday. “What did I do to deserve this?” You asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his head as you sat back on the bed. He placed the tray on your lap and sat down next to you. “Nothing. I just love you.” He said, kissing your cheek.

Bucky started laughing and you look up at him as he stood holding his stomach, halfway through the door.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, missing the daggers that Steve is glaring.

“Nothing, doll. You had to be there.” He said, coming in and lying down on your other side. “Did you sleep well?”

“Really well. I had a pretty good sex dream too. You guys were noisy in it.” You answered with a smirk.

Bucky and Steve shared a look and Bucky broke down into laughter.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #don't wake steve #quiet

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domesticatedantelope · 5 years

Text

fluency

Pairing: Colt x MC

Rating: E | NSFW 18+

Word Count: 2150

Summary: The one where Colt’s had just about enough of being left out.

Or, @brightpinkpeppercorn speaks magic, and I get the honor of writing it into being.

@choicesarehard @desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @client-327 @zaffrenotes @octobereighth @liamzigmichael4ever @navigatorholmes @sibella-plays-choices @lovehugsandcandy @dr-casey-lahela

They’re doing it again.

Colt sets his wrench down, popping his stiff knuckles with a swift clench of his hands. Caged under the body of a car is not the place to lose his head; he repeats this to himself as the first hot licks of anger creep steadily up the back of his neck. He cracks the muscles there as well for good measure, but the tension lingers.

He can hear their voices drifting over from the front room, just barely audible above the din of static fuzzy music from the beat-ass radio against the wall. Damn thing is almost older than he is, but his pop insists on keeping it around, and normally that godforsaken crackle on the high notes is the most offensive auditory torture gnawing at his nerves, but -

Logan says something soft and susurrant, and Mercy laughs, that sugar taffy laughter Colt so covetously wishes he could keep just for himself. Against his will he strains to listen, but the words slip uselessly against his brain, a thousand tiny locks he lacks the keys for. He can’t tear into what he doesn’t understand, and the deficit infuriates him.

He tells himself it’s just the nature of Spanish as a language, legato sounds the two of them bounce back and forth like old friends, soft syllables all looped together into something sensual and secret and locked beyond his understanding - that a romance language sounds romantic, and it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Logan.

Still, the echo of their conversation from the other room stings between his teeth like a cavity, hollow and sour. He grinds his jaw to stamp the feeling out.

Colt’s roamed the streets of LA since his feet could carry him. Spanish is no stranger to his ear, but Mercy rockets through the sounds like she could ride them to the stars, all rapidfire sibilants too fast to parse apart. Then there’s a verse of whispered giggles while Logan drawls through his response, and the whole thing is altogether too fond and too familiar and something feels like fucking fire in the cavern of his chest.

The creeper squeaks on timeworn wheels when he rolls out from underneath the car. “All right, that’s it.”

He nearly brains himself against the side of the car when Mona’s voice chirps knowingly from behind him. “I was wondering how long you were gonna put up with that.”

“Jesus, Mona, how long’ve you been…?” He staggers to his feet, wipes down his hands and casts a withering glare in her direction. “Shut up.”

She barely glances up from her nails when he storms past, but the smug curl of her laughter carries after him.

Jealousy propels him into the next room in three long strides, reckless energy that tenses in his fists and the edges of his vision. They’re hunched together over Mercy’s phone as she swipes through her photos, but their heads both lift in tandem when he steps into the doorway. She blinks at him across the room, dark eyes flaring wide and round as he stalks toward her, and recognition dawns across her face only moments before he hooks an arm around her waist and hauls her bodily over his shoulder.

“What - Colt!” Mercy gasps, curling two tiny fists into the back of his shirt for balance.

Logan’s already on his feet, reaching out as it to stop him. “Hey, you can’t-!”

“Say it in Spanish, asshole.”

“Colt Kaneko! Put me down!” Her voice scales a few octaves higher as she struggles against his grip. “I’m a feminist, for Christ’s sake!”

When he snorts a laugh, her knee swings in to deliver a swift kick toward his chest. He’s faster, catching her thigh against the palm of his hand, saving himself a blow that might have knocked the wind from his lungs. Smart little brat. “You’re gonna make me drop you if you keep that up.”

“Then put me down.”

“Mercy…?” Logan’s voice wavers somewhere behind them.

“It’s fine,” she seethes back, hardly reassuring, upside down over Colt’s shoulder and still trying to play nice. Logan’s earned her ire throwing punches in the past, but Colt wonders with a dark twist of delight where that puppy dog loyalty will fall when it’s Mercy on the line and not his pride. Might be fun to kick his ass. Certainly not as fun as what he wants to do to Mercy, but he likes to think that he’s prepared for every avenue of action that might cross his path.

In the end, it seems like Mercy’s no more fistfights rule has Logan’s hands tied, and Colt carries her alone into the break room, where he kicks the door shut behind him, dropping them into a heavy silence.

“I can’t believe you.” She hisses the words into the space between his shoulders. “Carried me out of there like an absolute barbarian.”

Colt props her down onto the rail of the pool table and insinuates himself quite pointedly into her space. His hand shapes a firm grip around her chin, pinning her under the full force of his glare.

Mercy glares back, but she doesn’t fight his grasp. Her chest heaves with heated breath, muscles tensing like she might still make a break for it until the first soft trace of pink rises telltale across her cheeks. There it is.

Long dark lashes frame her gaze and cast the faintest shadows down over her cheekbones, and some niggling, incessant urge to kiss the delicate shape of them coalesces with reckless abandon, tempting him across the empty space between them. The angry part of him bares teeth and digs its heels in; the aching in his heart suggests it’s far too late for that.

He firmly ignores both, clipping the words through his teeth when he speaks. “What have I told you about that?”

Something twitches at the corner of her lips, the first half of a smile barely bitten down. “You know I grew up speaking Spanish, right?”

“Mercy.”

“So unless you’re gonna learn it and speak it with me -”

He kisses her, claims her mouth and all the storming words there, and only the brief second between heartbeats passes before Mercy softens to his touch, breathing a gasp and kissing him back with equal urgency, hooking her fingers into fistfuls of his shirt. He toes the line of too rough, but she tugs him closer, arching to bare her neck when his mouth scales her jaw and descends the soft stretch of her throat, her eagerness versed out in little actions he’s relieved to understand with perfect comprehension; this, at least, they can speak together.

The first latch of his teeth into her skin sets off a shiver that leaps down her spine. Mercy breathes out softly - oh - her thighs twitching around his hips as he bites down and sucks and scores a mark that will fast bloom and become insurmountably difficult to hide. Her fingers travel up his neck to curl through the roots of his hair, his name barely there on the sound of her breath, and his body sings with satisfaction: yes, please, more of that, right fucking now -

His mouth scours a scatterplot of love bites down her skin, slipping her shirt aside to mark the curves of her breasts and the soft, bronze skin over her ribs. She squeezes at his hair as he shoves her skirt up and continues his determined path down her thighs. Her voice breaks when he bites her there, fraying into tortured little gasps that almost vaguely shape his name.

Colt drags in a steadying breath and drinks in the sight of her before him, love-drunk and blushing, flustered from his kisses. The calculated network that he normally maintains among his thoughts quickly unravels, scattered out into a jumbled mess of need and Mercy and now. He wants to watch her fall apart right here on the fucking pool table, wants her against his mouth, to feel her come undone around his fingers -

Irked, he glances down at the oil stains still streaked across his hands, and reluctantly he sets his fingers to her thighs instead, leading them apart for the further progression of his mouth. He doesn’t need hands, he decides; his mouth is more than capable of purging every last remaining word of spoken language from her mind.

He doesn’t bother removing her panties. His teeth tug those dismissively aside, and then he has his mouth against wet heat and Mercy is so ready for him, sobbing when he runs the length of silky folds beneath his tongue and starts to hint at suction. Her hips jerk, oversensitive; she staves the harshest of his strokes away with the fist clenched in his hair, and he eases off, chasing her white-knuckled lead.

“Colt-!” Mercy bites his name into the back of her hand, splayed out against faded green baize and fighting desperately not to make a noise; he can feel the tension of it in her muscles as she writhes under his mouth. He works his tongue in greedy, seeking spirals, and it doesn’t take him long to get soft broken noises past the border of her self-control, whining echoes of his name compressing down into a splintered chant as her hips lurch against him.

The urge to touch her itches in the tips of his fingers. He grips them hard against her skin and redoubles his efforts, jaw aching and sweat stinging down the back of his stiff neck and every atom of it absolutely worth it when she gasps and arcs and falls apart. The muscles in her thighs sweep in tight around his head, and he eats her through the high, past the point of whimpers and shivers, until she’s nudging him away with the heel of her hand and a strangled whine of protest, legs falling weakly away from his face.

He swipes an arm over his mouth, curling in against her chest while she recovers, feeling the rise and fall of her ribs as she starts to catch her breath. His cock is cramped and unbelievably hard behind his jeans, but the satisfaction of making Mercy come and the soft stroke of her fingers through his hair have soothed the sharpest of the edges from his anger. He wraps himself around her and listens to the slowing rhythm of her heartbeat, tiptoes his fingers gently over burgeoning bruises, the dark blossoms where his teeth have shaped the same word on her skin: mine and mine and mine.

“Hey,” Mercy croaks eventually. “Hey. Kaneko.”

“Castellano.”

She tugs him by the hair until he rises to meet her gaze, those delicate brows furrowed above her eyes. “This was fun, but…” Her cheeks darken. “No more carting me off like an animal when I’m just speaking Spanish with Logan.”

“No more doing it where I can hear.”

“Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

She tweaks the shell of his ear, just hard enough to hurt. “Don’t be mean.”

A scowl tugs across his face, but he dips his mouth to a faint outline that his teeth left at the base of her throat, pressing the softest apology there. “You could be a lot less flirty about it.”

Mercy blinks then, taken aback. “It’s really that bad?”

“Oh, my god, it sounds like you two are gonna fuck each other right there.”

Her cheeks wash with pink, but she pinches her lip between her teeth, considering. Then she nods. “Okay. That’s fair. Business-casual Spanish only.”

Against his instincts, he actually laughs; and he still wonders deep down what it is about her that lifts so much of the weight from his shoulders. “Mercy.”

“I’m only joking a little... It makes you uncomfortable, so I won’t do it anymore.” She shrugs, shaping her shaking fingertips along the tense line of his jaw. The flush of pleasure is still warm across her face and throat when she offers him a coy half-smile. “I might have been teasing you a little. To see what you would do.”

“No shit.” Colt rolls his eyes, but his lips are gentle when he kisses the pulse in her throat. “And?”

She laughs, that sweet tooth sound, roughened in the wake of coming and entirely for him. “Aside from being thrown over your shoulder like a sack of rice, no complaints.”

“Noted.”

While he fixes her clothing lazily back into place, she watches him with lidded eyes and reaches out to catch his hand, threading their fingers together. “Would you prefer I speak it to you?”

He answers at once. “I thought that’d be obvious.”

“Even if you don’t understand?”

“I don’t need to.” He soothes his thumb at the back of her hand, follows after with his lips against her knuckles, pressing a kiss there that he hopes will translate right. “I understand you.”

#rodaw #ride or die #choices ride or die #colt kaneko #colt x mc #ns*fw #sorry there is no actual spanish in this #just a lot of pretty ways to describe it from a big big fan #mercy speaks salvadoran spanish very quickly and to an ear untrained to spanish it is probably very difficult to piece apart haha #and this ends kinda sappy but that's what my smut heart said #all thanks go to mar and ellie for their constant encouragement and best (worst) influence on me *MUAH* to both of you!#ship: power couple #dom writes

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ancientbooshartifacts · 5 years

Text

Broken Mirrors

Author: Evil_Kingdom

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Vince/Richmond

Another Night, Another Bar...

Richmond takes a sip from his drink, some fruity dark red coloured drink, hell if he can remember what the name is. He takes a long gulp, shuttering at the after taste of alcohol. He thinks to himself what a weak man he is, far from what others he works with are like. Even Moss is stronger then him, and to everyone that says a lot.

But I thought you liked Moss?....

I do.

But you know he doesnt like you right?....

I know. No one likes me.

Oh dont be so hard on yourself Richie...

Shut up inner thought. Im tired of you being the only one to talk to.

He shakes his head, believing that maybe going out for a bit of air will be the solution to his problem. He gulped down the rest of his drink, places it carefully on the table, looks a round the room to see people giving him odd and funny looks

See? Maybe if you only dressed like them... maybe the would actually like you...

Not you too inner evil thought. Shut up

Richmond gives his head a big shake, then flattens out his long dark hair back into place. He then takes the steps through the crowd of people dancing irratically to the DJ with the toys up in the booth. He thinks to himself that maybe it was a bad day to come to the bar, a day when there is just too many people around. Not that he really minds that there are people around, it just isnt his type of people, so it makes for more awkward moments.

He instantly feels the cold air wrap around him as he pushes open the door. He cracks a small smile, feeling the comfort of a familiar friend

Hello Wind, nice to feel you again

He leans against the cold wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment, trying to collect all his thoughts and feelings.

Maybe I should just go home... Its not like im going to find anyone tonight.

Maybe you will never find anyone....

I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP.

He lets out an exasperated cry, slamming his fits beside him into the wall. Tears start to gather in his eyes as he opens them, looking up into the shine of the moon,

It will be ok Richie, it will all work out soon....

Thanks moon, I can always count on you.

Im the Mooonnn....

Looking out onto the darkness of the streets, he sees gaggles of people, all sorts of people, dancing and being happy, drunk and laughing.

Why cant I be like them? Why cant I have some friends?

Richmond sighs again, standing up a bit straighter, rubbing the scratches on his hands.

No need to be sad anymore. Im better then this, I can get through this.

Being depressed just makes you a stereotypical goth Richie...

Thats right inner thought. And I'm not one to be stereotypical.

Pushing off from the wall, brushing his hands softly over his dark red velvet jacket, he gives himself a smile. Tomorrow will be a better night, tomorrow he will find someone to talk to.

Tomorrow tomorrow...

Richmond stares at himself in the mirror, checking every pore on his skin.

Perfect whiteness. Though I could lay off the sun a bit more, then it would be more perfect.

You know its fashionable to have a tan now a days Richie...

I know. But thats not who I am, I am a confident attractive young man.

Just keep telling yourself that....

Shut up inner evil thought. You cannot ruin my mood today. I am going to go out a meet someone. Just you watch me.

Giving himself a big smile, flashing his clean and white teeth, he applies the final stages of his eye makeup, adding a touch of black glitter to the corners of his eyes making his blue eyes sparkle.

Moving to the closet double doors he looks into rows of reds, deep purples and blues, hints of green, and rows upon rows of black. But at the very end, far back in the walk in closet, you can see a hint of his past, 3 normal suits still hang from bar, still unable to give away the last of the past.

He holds onto them thinking one day, one day, he may actually have the want to try them on, try on what he used to be, what it was like to be the cool guy, the guy with talent, friends, and a job that doesn't include staring at flashing buttons in the basement.

As he grabs his favourite creepers, a pair of black spiderweb socks, and a deep purple button up jacket, he sits on his bed and begins to hum a Cure song, one that he cant seem to get out of his head...

Oh please don't ask me who i am

Or when and where my life began

Or why i ended up like this or how

Standing up he brushes himself off and walks out into his hallway, out the front door, and on to the streets. Walking at a slow pace he watches the moon that sits high up into the night sky, surrounded by little stars, faint to see in the brightness of the cities lights. Continuing down the street, turning left, then making a right, he finds himself smack dab in the middle of bar and nightclub alley.

Now which one shall I pray upon tonight... hmmm decisions, decisions.

You make it sound as if you will have people just throwing themselves at you when you enter the doorway, you do know you will probably drink yourself stupid and wander home, just like every weekend.

Shut up inner evil thought. I told you. Tonight is my night. Tonight I will come home victorious. Gotta be confident, show them that Im a great person.

Richmond smiles to himself, confidence beaming through him like a flaming dagger sword from his heart.

And then he sees him.

The perfect figure of a man.

Gleaming black hair, shiny with product, perfect shape and placement

But not a goth.

Richmond gives a questionable look, heart beating faster in his chest.

Well he is a he...right?

That doesn't change anything, Im quite happy with any sexual preference. Not to say i'm not picky, but love is love you know, it doesn't have a gender.

For the first time in his life, his heart beats fast, quickens his pace, and jogs up to the club, slipping through the door, staring at the slight in front of him

Lights gleam from the ceiling, flooding the crowd with different colours, music loudly playing, but not loud enough to destroy eardrums. Not a bad selection of music, thankfully, Richmond hoping that there wouldnt be an idiot DJ tonight. He searches the club trying to find the man with the perfect hair... Bingo. Right next to the bar, sitting alone.

Here's my chance. Don't fuck it up.

He takes a deep breath, straightens out his clothes, fixes his hair, and makes a casual walk towards the bar.

“One cherry vodka sour please.”

He leans on the bar, trying to be casual and confident, thinking to himself that it probably doesn't look the case, but as long as he doesn't look ridiculous, its all that matters.

Well there he is Richie... go for it..

I will I will. Don't pressure me. You know what happens when I get pressured.

You get all clammy and your voice goes all squeaky and then people stare and laugh at you....

Thanks for the reminder asshole.

Richmond turns and glances towards the man. He makes eye contact, seeing full well the man beside him is staring. His face goes pink, but he can't look away...

“Can I help you? Are you starin' at me for a reason?” The dark haired man tilts his head

“Uhh... ummm... no, I was just looking over, sorry to bother you. I don't mean to make any trouble..”

Youre pathetic Richie. What happened to your confidence?...

“I don't mean to be mean, you don't have to get all defensive.” The man gives a small laugh,

“My name is Vince, Vince Noir, you probably heard about me, I am the king of Camden Town”

The man, Vince, flashes one of the most gorgeous smiles he's ever seen, his confidence clears.

“Umm no, sorry, I haven't heard about you...”

But I would love to..

Richie go for it. Give him something else to smile about....

“My name is Richmond, and I would love to find out why everyone knows you”

Richmond tries to give himself a confidence boost, giving a small cheeky smile, turning back to pay the bartender and grab his drink.

“Would you like a drink? My treat?” Richmond glances over Vince, seeing that he chooses the glam rock style, not something he is used to, but man does he make it look hot. He slowly gives him a once over, looking at his tight shiny shirt, trailing down to his black tight pants...

His eyes linger on his bulge, his perfectly pressed bulge against his pants, perfect...

“Oi mate, eyes up here, k love?” Vince flashes a coy smile, giving a small chuckle

He snaps out of his daze, face going red

“Im sorry, I didnt mean to, I mean I wasnt..”

if your face could get any redder, you would be a tomato.

“I'll take you up on your drink offer, a flirtini please, extra sour” Vince motions for him to take a seat beside him, giving him a cheeky grin.

He returns with drinks, placing his preferred drink in front of him, sliding into the booth beside him.

Now what are you going to do Richie? You cant just get him wasted you know

I know that... Im working on it.

“You alright mate? You arent the drug type are you?” Vince tilts his head towards Richmond, catching his eye, “You look a bit spaced out. I hope im not boring you or nothin”

“Oh no, no... no problem. Im just not used to someone being nice to me, usually I get brushed off quick and that is that” Richmond tries to smile it off, like its nothing.

Vince grins, his hand slowly creeping up Richmond's leg, stopping to grab his thigh. “Good. A pretty boy like you wanted to know about me, so heres how it starts”

Popping the cherry from his drink into his mouth he leans over, hand trailing down Richmond's thigh. His mouth getting ever so close, Richmond feeling his alcoholic breath push against his face, heart racing a mile a minute.

This is it. He is actually into me

Richmond leans forward, opening his mouth, tongue flicking forward hitting the cherry stem, before closing the gap with his lips..

Tonight be all i dream

There isn't any yesterday

Tomorrow starts a day away

This here and now with you is how

Always should always be

This

Here and now

With you

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #the it crowd #it crowd #richmond avenal #richmond #vince noir #vince/richmond #vince noir/richmond avenal #richmond avenal/vince noir #richmond/vince

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bluepenguinstories · 4 years

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Forty

Never mind all that bullshit, here's where the REAL story begins:

So as we all know, Conrad and Velvet are assholes who should never be trusted. Unless it's trusting them to be untrustworthy, and in that case, yeah! They're super fucking trustworthy! We also know that the police aren't to be trusted. Never have been, never will. But me, being an idiot, thought that those two double-crossing snakes were in some kind of danger, and thinking (again, like a fucking moron) that some no-good cops would save them.

No, instead, I got punched in the face, then I found myself on the run from them, with gunfire out in the streets. Man, this city's really gone to shit. I didn't wanna believe it, but ain't no denyin' it now.

So that's where we're at. Any questions? No? Good. So, anyway...

I was still being chased when I turned the corner and ran into an alleyway and tried to hide behind a dumpster. I sat down and tried to catch my breath.

“Damn...asthma...”

Me, a total dumbass, forgot to take my inhaler with me when I left Conrad's little hideout.

“Shit. Maybe I should go back there?”

I peeked out from behind the dumpster to see cops still running by. None of them bothered to check the alleyway where I was at.

“Ha! Those pigs are total idiots!”

I then coughed and wheezed. Oh yeah. The breathing thing.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't ol' K-Rog,” came a baritone (not sure if that's the right description, but what I'm getting at is that it was deep) voice. What I saw in front of me was this tall man with a baseball cap and a sinister smile. In other words, stranger danger.

“I don't know how you know me, but I should inform you that the police are currently after me, so if you try any funny business, they'll probably shoot you too.”

“This is a lovely alleyway,” he responded. Or didn't respond? It sure didn't sound like a reply.

“Yeah, yeah, that's what a predator would say.”

“You'll soon get to know me,” he lunged at me, but I jumped out of the way and ran out from the dumpster. My lungs were still on fire. Now, logic would dictate that I would be safe, but no. Mr. Predator Man grabbed me by the back of my shirt just as I started to run and lifted me up.

“Hey! Let me go!”

He ran out into the streets, and I tried to struggle free, but damn, he had a tight grip.

Anyway, although I was quite the fighter, I don't always end up a winner. After like an hour, I ended up in some spooky warehouse building. Man, I really didn't like the way things were going.

“Name's Marco, kiddo.”

“And I give a fuck why?”

“Oh, you will. Mm...yes. My head is clear today. Just like the skies. You cannot see them because we're indoors, but trust me. It's beautiful.”

“Yeah, well maybe I prefer the indoors, anyway.”

“Let's cut to the chase, buddy: I want you to join my hacktivist group, Lilypad.”

I gasped.

“I heard of you guys! I thought your group was so cool!”

He laughed.

“So you'll join? I didn't think it would be that easy.”

“Yeah, over my cold, dead, body. I liked you guys back when I was like 10 and just learning to DDoS. You guys are cringe now, though. Like, what do you even do?”

He looked taken aback.

“Our goal is to make the world a better place for frogkind and we need your help. The Flashbulb, an organization that we're sure Conrad has told you all about, is threatening to cause the extinction of amphibians everywhere, but with you --”

“Pass.”

“What?”

“Look, sure, I'm a hacker, but you and I are totally different. I only hack to do noble things, like order figurines online without having to pay any money. I can't get behind your cause.”

Dude looked floored.

“In the end, I won't force you, but I think you should get all the facts, first. Besides, there are no places to run. Even if you manage to leave this place, I have connections all around the city. Now...”

He pressed a button on a small remote and the doors to the warehouse opened up. His mistake, since as soon as they started opening up, I bolted for it.

“...I should have considered this would happen,” I could hear him say. Too little, too late, my not-friend.

Outside, I found myself at a dock, but that didn't matter much to me. I ran up some stairs and once I saw the main road, I knew how to get to my parent's place from here.

Now I'm on the run from not only the cops, but also a creeper.

The whole way home, I checked behind me to see if I was being chased. Even when I couldn't see any signs of a pursuer, I continued running, only stopping probably, like, a thousand times to catch my breath.

As sad as it may have been to admit, my parents weren't the best people. I hadn't seen them in, I don't know, weeks? Months? A year? Well, I had to cut my losses eventually and just try to seek refuge somewhere. So when I went up the stairs and knocked on the door to the apartment, of course this is what my mom said to me:

“Kelly Roger? Is that you? Oh my god! I missed you so much! We've been worried sick about you! I remember filing a missing persons report on you over a year ago, but nothing ever came of it! Please, come in! Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys have Wi-Fi?” I barged into the apartment, went into the room that was once my bedroom and grabbed a spare laptop and an old backpack.

My dad appeared in frame and shook his head. “We're terrible sorry, money's been tight. We've been struggling just to pay rent.”

How shocking. I couldn't believe what I heard.

“Well, it was nice seeing you guys. No Wi-Fi, no stay.”

I walked back down the stairs and my mom called for me. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Somewhere with Wi-Fi,” I replied, my words bitter and filled with sorrow.

Yes, sometimes families aren't the best, and sometimes, you just had to go your own way, and that is just what I did.

“Can you believe that, Polo?!”

“Polo.”

“I know, right?!”

“Polo.”

“Now what are we going to do? Kelly Roger was integral to our...” I lost my train of thought due to having another thought. Of me. In another time. “Oh yeah. I was already succeeded once.”

I began laughing.

“Now why do I need the world when I've already got the city under my thumb?”

I laughed harder. My sister was right there, probably not very amused.

“Oh, Polo, dear sister. Don't worry. We will get you a girlfrog yet. Girlfrog? Frogfriend? Let's settle on girlfriend for now. It's simple and easy to remember.”

“Polo!”

“Yes. Gay frogs are the future.”

Kelly Roger not being a part of our little family put a dent in things, but it was not the end of the world. That wouldn't come for at least another three years. For the time being, I would need to continue building my empire.

“Come, sister. We must see how our gay siblings are doing back at the base.”

Hand in hand, Polo and I took to our froggy destination.

Bitter didn't even cut it; I was sipping on some strong coffee.

No, I wasn't where I wanted to be. Neither in life, nor physically. Where I was was some overrated coffee shop where Wi-Fi was for “customers only”. Like, who did they think they were? This was a public utility. People should have rioted, but instead they all just ordered their overpriced coffee.

Then there was me: hypocrite of the year. No complaints, just ordered the darkest roast they had and ordered that dark roast black. As I stared into the cup, I reflected on my situation.

No friends, no home, no trust. Enemies around every corner. Cops scavenging for my scent, their pocket lined by whoever it was they worked for. Conrad would have said some light bulb people, but me? I knew corruption when I smelled it. There was work at play that delusional snake couldn't even imagine.

...But I could, because I was the best at digging up dirt.

I looked up and noticed a security camera in the corner of the ceiling. I lowered my cap (well, I found it on the ground in an alleyway on the way to the coffee shop. For all I knew, it could have belonged to that Markov guy or whatever his name was, but it was mine now) so the camera couldn't catch my face.

I stared back at my laptop and tried to plan out my next line of attack. My stomach growled, which wasn't good, but not much I could do about that. I needed money. Not just to eat, but to survive in this dog-eat-dogshit world. Luckily, I found a five dollar bill on my way to the coffee shop, but now that was gone, used up to pay for this bitter reminder of my situation.

What I need is a job. It's probably not that hard to fake a social security card.

There was one time when I just got out of high school when I worked a job. Papa Dad's Pizza or something like that. Don't mean to brag or nothin', but I was too good for those losers. So, of course, the manager conspired to get rid of me. One day, he gave me a call to break the news:

“Kelly Roger, why aren't you at work?”

“Sorry, boss, but an emergency situation came up and I had to stay home.”

“You should have called in!”

“Yeah, but the new Fire Emblem game just came out and it's taken up all my attention.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, crazy, right? Apparently they added a gay romance option and I've been trying to pursue Byleth, but dude's hard to woo!”

“You're not at work 'cause of some VIDEO GAME?”

“It be like that sometimes, boss.”

“You're fired!”

The call ended without me able to plead my case. All I could do was go back to tending to royal pretty boys. Real tragic gamer moment.

Ah, but that was then. I've grown since then. I wasn't about to let something like 'being fired' stop me from working. I knew my worth and I knew I was worth more than some shitty pizza joint.

All it took was seconds, and I found a place. I went ahead and sent them an email:

Dear assholes,

Your computer repair shop looks dope as fuck, but you really ought to hire someone who knows their shits. I just defaced your website and put porn on the front page. Now, if you hire me, I can remove it, and keep your site secure so shit like that doesn't happen. Attached is my resume. There's nothing on it because I think my skills speak for themselves.

Sincerely,

K.R.

If I just gave out my name, that'd be self-incriminating. Only a complete moron would do that. Too many wandering eyes out there to do something so moronic. Initials, on the other hand? That could mean anything. Smarts right there.

Within minutes, I got my reply:

Dear KR,

Thank you for applying to RAM It In, your one-stop shop for all your computer repair needs. After reviewing your resume, we have decided to move on with other applicants at this time. Furthermore, we are not currently looking for a web designer. We wish you the best in your future endeavors and invite you to apply again once you've had more experience.

'Experience'? Really? As if someone like me needed 'experience'. Didn't they know who I was? I've got a whole-ass reputation.

My stomach growled once again.

Fine. Maybe I know my worth, but I also gotta eat. Sometimes, you gotta degrade yourself just to get by.

I stood up from my seat and went up to the front counter.

“Hey, you're gonna give me a job.”

“Uh, that's not really how that works,” the barista informed me, some acne ridden brunette teenager.

I felt bad for that poor kid. Probably 16, first job, didn't know how cutthroat the world could truly be. So naive. I was a teenager once. Just a couple years ago, in fact. But I've grown since then.

“Listen, Karen,” I set the record straight. It wasn't like I knew her name, but I had to sound authoritative. “Get your manager out here and we'll talk turkey. Or tofurkey, if that's how things roll around here.”

“I think you would be the Karen in this situation...”

“Manager. Now.”

She scurried off into the back. After a solid thirty seconds, the manager appeared. Some guy with one of those hipster-beards and hipster-glasses and that 'realer than thou' attitude. I wasn't about to learn that guy's name.

“Hey, boss man. You're gonna give me a job.”

“Yeah...” he didn't sound so pleased with me. Was I going to have to step up my assertiveness? “...That's not really how any of that works. See, first you fill out an application online, then maybe I'll call you for an interview, and then maybe after the interview, you might get the job.”

“Yeah, screw all those unnecessary steps. I already know how to make coffee. You just press some buttons and shit.”

“You also have to have good customer service skills.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally. I can do that no problem. Here, want me to prove it?”

There was some soccer mom walking by. I stopped her.

“Hey asshole, you want some coffee? Of course you do, you junkie!”

“Excuse me?” With her Pomeranian-type haircut, I could tell she would be a formidable foe. One of those types whose bark was not only worse than her bite, but a bite in of itself. Sure enough, she turned to the manager who was surely about to hire me.

“This young man...ma'am? This young...hooligan is harassing me! If you don't remove them from the store, I'm gonna sue!”

The manager raised an eyebrow. Probably the more obscure eyebrow of the two he had.

“Yeah, I'll have to ask you to leave. We can't be having you causing a scene.”

“Fine!” I huffed. “What's this place called, anyway?” I squinted my eyes. Their sign was so hard to read. Pretty sure I needed a new prescription. “Starbutts? Yeah, I never liked your shitty coffee, anyway! I'm off to bigger and better things.”

I stormed off, picking up my laptop and backpack on the way out. If it wasn't obvious, I was too good for that place, anyway. That establishment wouldn't survive long without the likes of me in their ranks. If anything, they needed me, not the other way around. But it was too late for them. They made their beds.

Speaking of bed making, I had no idea what I was going to do in terms of sleeping arrangements. Although the sun hadn't even come down yet, I was feeling pretty exhausted, so I found the nearest alleyway (a common occurrence by now) and dug through a dumpster. Inside was a large cardboard box. I folded it up and got inside.

If Solid Snake could do it, I should have no problem.

My eyes grew heavy. Real amazing how under the right conditions, the human body could sleep through anything.

As luck would have it, rain poured down.

Man, work was so boring. Lemme tell you, I just stare at a screen all day. There's not even ever anything good on. Now, saying all that, people probably would have gotten the wrong idea. So lemme set the record straight: life is peachy. Why wouldn't it be? I've had a great job, I was hired on to a company with great benefits, and all I had to do was spy on people.

What? You ask? You've heard all that before? No, that can't be right. First off, that redhead named Velvet was as good as dead. Besides, my hair is a normal brunette. I take my job seriously and I'm loyal to my company. She's got nothin' on me.

What? You've heard all that before, too? No, that can't be right, I'm--

“Celia V, are you lost in thought again?”

“HEY! FUCK YOU! I WAS NARRATING!”

Never mind that just now. That was just my boss. You know, head of the ETNA Corporation. Yeah, like I really needed to keep that a secret. Get real. We're, like, hidden behind seven layers of security, and just like Dante's Inferno, I'm on the sixth layer.

“Are you paying attention? Your observation on the one known as 'Kelly Roger' is vital.”

“Yeah, yeah. It's just so boring. I don't get why I'm doing this. Why not Conrad? Or Velvet? Or even the one that got away? What was their name again? Brawny? Yeah, lemme observe a roll of paper towels.”

“I have my reasons for my orders.”

I puffed my cheeks.

“Sure you do, but all's I'm saying is this kid's a loser. If you're that concerned, couldn't you just get a cop or a Prinny to kill them?”

“If you really must know, I have reason to believe that Kelly Roger poses no threat. However, I still wish to keep a close eye on them. Conrad must have had a reason to recruit Kelly Roger.”

“Hey doc, has it ever occurred to you that Conrad's an idiot, too?”

“Yes. Most are of low intelligence when compared to one such as I.”

“Not what I meant. I just mean, maybe there wasn't a very good reason. Maybe Conrad just figured three's company.”

I stroked my chin. I didn't have a beard or nothin', just thought that's what all the cool people did when they were in the middle of deep thought.

“Actually, now that you mention it, yeah. You may have a point, there. That's why you're the boss, huh?”

Yes...maybe there was some master plan that we didn't know about. Something that had gone under our noses the whole time. Maybe, just maybe, Kelly Roger was the key to it all.

When I woke up, the sun was shining and my clothes were damp and stuck to my skin, making me itch everywhere.

I did get a pretty nice rest, though. Maybe sleeping outside ain't so bad.

That's when I began to panic. It rained. That wasn't very cash money!

Just to be on the safe side, I checked my backpack. The outside was soaked, but inside, my laptop was still dry. What a relief.

Another relief was that I made it through an entire night without being mugged, robbed, beat up, or worse. Wasn't sure what could be worse, but another encounter with that Macaroni (that was his name, wasn't it?) man didn't sound pleasant.

“Now, my next course of action, should be...” I got up. I needed some plan. Just because a badass like me could survive a night in the streets didn't mean it would be a good idea to run into everything blind. Food, water, shelter. Basic human needs. If I was a basic human. “Nah, I'm no normie. What I need is my body pillow! How am I supposed to sleep without my waifu, in pillow form, to hug?”

Yes. All who were cultured knew the importance of having a husbando and/or waifu. Someone to hold. Someone two-dimensional. Without someone like that, well...the world would be cold.

When I last saw my waifu, who at the time, was the great and esteemed Palutena, she was locked away underground in the bunker. While I originally had no intention of ever going back there, some things were just too important. Not only did I leave my waifu, but also hard drives filled with hundreds of anime series and a handful of hentai, too. Those things were too precious to leave behind.

But didn't the base get raided, or something?

There my mind went, going straight to the negatives. Bad mind!

Maybe my room's still intact, at the very least. If it is, maybe I could go back, and sleep there. I would have a shelter and –

Spoilers: that didn't happen. When I got to the university, there was a large crowd. After shoving past everyone, seeing the yellow tape, I fell to the ground.

“My...waifu...”

Indeed, the university had all been reduced to rubble.

I looked around. There were cops. That was no good. They could have recognized me (and my brilliance, let's be honest here). I needed to bounce.

As I made my way through the crowd, I thought I was in the clear. That was, until some lady with a brown pony tail stopped me. She wore both a police uniform as well as a fake mustache. Very suspicious.

“Hey! You there!”

Shit. Okay, Kelly Roger. Act like a Normie. Be cool.

“Did you attend this school?”

“What's it to you?” I groaned.

“Just answer the question.” She tapped a baton against her hand. I gulped.

“Yeah.”

“What was your major?”

“Hentai studies.”

“BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK? THAT'S NOT A REAL MAJOR!”

I flinched and stood back.

“Ugh. What's it to you, anyway?”

“If you don't answer truthfully, I will make your life a living hell, you got that?”

“Hey, look over there! Someone's existing while poor!”

“Huh?” She turned around. That was my cue. I bolted.

Damn, I can't believe that worked. I really am a genius, aren't I?

Hate to admit it, but Kelly Roger was good. To think they could really fool me with something like that. They were definitely hiding something, and now that I met Kelly Roger in person, I knew why Dr. Etna sent me to spy on them.

“Back to HQ I go. This just got interesting.”

Pretty sure I lost track of that police lady. Good. I peeked out from the corner of the building I hid behind, just in case.

No sign of her.

Now, I would have let out a sigh of relief, if my breathing wasn't all out of whack. What I needed was an inhaler.

“Or...some...plushies...”

Could I even do that? Could I hack my way into ordering plushies online without having to pay? The answer would have been a resounding yes, but there was one problem: what address would I have sent it to?

I shook my head. After a good while, my breathing got normal again. Long while, but normal breathing, nonetheless.

That lady was not normal. That much was obvious. My best guess was that she wasn't any old police officer. Not that any of the police officers were good, they were all under the control of something. Between that lady, the corrupt cops, and that strange frog guy, there was something going on in my city, and I wouldn't let it persist. It was time to step up, and if no one else was going to uncover the truth, then I would.

Besides, maybe I'd be paid lots of money for my detective work.

“You there!” At first I thought the fake cop lady had found me. No, instead it was some grubby looking man in tattered clothing. What a relief. “Gimme all your money! I've got a knife!”

Gimme a break. I'm not interested in being mugged right now.

“Oh, sure. Lemme just get it out of my backpack.” I should be careful, if he sees my laptop, he could steal it and bring it to a pawn shop or something and get cash from it. My laptop's worth way more than whatever they'd give him at a fuckin' pawn shop!

After I pulled out just what he needed, I got up.

“Lookie here, I got a knife, too!” Ah, my trusty knife. Not to brag or anything, but my knife was much prettier and much sharper. Longer, too. So glad I didn't leave it at the bunker. “Now, what you got on you?”

“Uhh...I got a phone.”

“Give it here,” I grunted. “No funny business, either.”

He brought a phone out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Good, good. Now run, before I make a rare steak outta you!”

He ran for it, dropping his knife on the ground. His was just some flimsy pocket knife. I took that too, for good measure. Once he was out of sight, I blinked.

“Wow. I can't believe that actually worked.”

Now that I had a cell phone (even if, as it would turn out, it was one of those pay-as-you-go phones), I was ready to take on whatever sinister forces lurked under the surface.

#happiness overload #writing #stories #intrigue #conspiracy #mystery #noir #frogs #shaggy dog #writers on tumblr

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