#i mean. guy handed her the needle and was like ‘ok do what you’ve always been doing and poison the emperor for me.’ and she went ‘ok’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

#eren yeager x reader #bully eren yeager #toxic eren #eren yeager x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dubcon tw #tw noncon #tw abuse #tw drinking #tw drunk driving #eren yeager fanfiction #dark content #dark fic #tw trauma #tw depr

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calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

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Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it.

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work?

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #frosted windowpanes

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

fragrance | a.h.

summary: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

WARNINGS: LMAO SMUT (18+), oral (m!receiving), swearing, drinking, nervous and awkward y/n and hotch heehee pairing: college!aaron hotchner x fem!reader word count: 4.8k

a/n: lmao so i watched a tiktok of THAT SCENE in love and human remains so i am legally obligated to write what inspired me. ok but @venusbarnes,,, it happened,,,

part of the bitter end universe but not required beforehand to read this. takes place in their second year of college

In retrospect, you know you’re freaking out over nothing.

You just showered, changed outfits twice, tried to fix your hair, inspected your makeup constantly since you’ve finished, and tried to figure out a way to call it off to pass the time.

Why are you even worried? Ever since you’ve gotten off the plane, which, in itself, is a step you cannot backtrack since you are merely a college student with limited funds, your knees have been weak and you feel like you don’t really have a stomach.

Why? It’ll be fine.

You’ve been over Aaron for two-and-some-months years, now. The distance did you good, did you both good. Namely, you’re quite damn sure you don’t feel anything for him anymore besides the occasional flicker of irritation, the excited burst in your stomach, the absolute terror of seeing him again.

How has he changed? It feels like it’s been so long.

You glance at the clock.

9:55

You said 10AM. You have five minutes at the most to get yourself together and just run down the staircase, shove yourself into his presence before your nerves can tell you to turn back. Taking a deep breath, you look at your reflection in the mirror one last time before heading to the desk and grabbing your wrist watch. It’s worn down leather is soft to your touch and you feel an overwhelming sense of calm overtake you.

This will be fine.

As you fasten it to your wrist, you glance at the face. Time seems to tick by slower as you pull on your ankle boots, swipe a finger over your lip, and grab your room key. As you descend the cold stairwell, memories grasp at your consciousness, tease you, but you push them away and instead focus on putting on foot in front of the other, focus on gathering the courage to stand in front of him again.

Before you know it, you’re opening the door and walking over to the pacing figure you only know to be your best friend. His hair is still long, but he’s wearing a leather jacket, so that’s new, and he’s frowning to himself.

And it makes you smile, because that’s him. Aaron Hotchner, master frowner, broody boy. His hair is still long, his eyes still so dark. He hasn’t changed.

God, what will you say to make him laugh?

“What’s the deal with the jacket, George?” you say without thinking.

“George? And here I thought I was John,” he replies just as quickly, matching your tone and your entire heart lurches into your throat as your smile grows stiffly.

Crap.

And that’s when you realize that, quite frankly, that convincing yourself that you’re over Aaron Hotchner is going to be a lot harder than it looked at first.

You’re fighting the urge to let the whole facade drop, but you can’t because this is Aaron, your best friend you haven’t seen in forever and although you’re so fucking happy to see him, you know everything is easier said than done.

He’s just your best friend, and you’re… you’re… feeling great. Your stomach is a bundle of nerves but that’s because you’re excited to spend time with him. Right?

“So, where to?” you ask, feeling quite exposed as he looks at you strangely. “I’m starving,” you say, an overwhelming need to explain causing word vomit to spill out of your mouth, “so, I was thinking we could get some breakfast, first. I’m in the mood for anything really.”

“Oh,” he says. “I have a place in mind.”

“O-okay. Lead the way, then. It’s kinda chilly out, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you needa grab another coat?” he asks as you step closer and they begin to walk to the door. He opens it for you and as you slip past him, your entire system shuts down. Your mind heads straight for the gutter, vivid images, voices, feelings from your dream flashing through your head.

Cheap beer, smoke, sweat, and a cologne you can’t forget.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“N-no. I’m okay. Are you, uhm, are you going to be okay in just that jacket? It looks great, by the way.” Are your hands shaking or is that just the swelling throat and the hard lump in your gut’s fault?

Shit. Holy shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

“Thanks, and, uh, no. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

You nod and smile shakily. “Great. It’s just… I’m really glad to see you.”

He stops for a moment, stares as if he knows or maybe you just feel naked in your own skin, and then matches your timid smile. “I’m really happy to see you too.”

Right. What did you say again about nerves?

[TWENTY HOURS EARLIER]

“You guys better behave,” Aaron sighs. “I’m not gonna be responsible if I have to deck Carter.”

“Woah there, Hotch,” his roommate comments, sliding off his bed and slinging an around his shoulders. “You have a girlfriend.”

“We’re on a break, actually.”

“I thought you don’t believe in breaks.”

“Well, we’re just talking things out with the long distance thing. It’s not like when she was in high school. She just needs to adjust to her first year, and we’re still talking. So, it’s more like… an intermission before we resume after mid-terms.”

“So, you’re single.”

“Technically, but I’m also not looking,” he retorts, just in case his roommate tries to set something up behind his back, but the guy merely shrugs.

“Whatever you say, Hotch-o.”

He scowls, getting up and running a hand through his hair before grabbing his jacket off the hook. “I’m just trying to say that Y/N’s been there for me since before you guys and before Haley.”

“I get it,” his roommate, named Earl, says as he flips the collar of his varsity jacket and grabs the room key. “She’s like a sister to you, right?” Aaron doesn’t say anything to that and Earl doesn’t prod him any further as he grabs his backpack and slings it onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Hotch. I’ll spread the word to the guys. They won’t try anything.”

“Yeah, thanks, Earl.”

“I’m heading to class, but it’s the bar tonight, right? You’ll pick her up from the airport?”

“Yeah.” The door opens and closes with a click and Aaron lets out a sigh, turning away from the mirror so he can stop pretending he’s trying to fix whatever Earl thought was wrong with his appearance. He just wanted to stay busy so his friend could leave him alone to his messy thoughts.

He had received your last letter on Monday, confirming your flight for the Thanksgiving weekend. You’d be here with him and his friends for three days.

It wasn’t his idea, nor yours. Sort of like… a mutual epistolary understanding that enough is enough and one of them should just… go.

You had volunteered for that. You had always wanted to see Harvard’s gorgeous campus, according to your last letter.

Aaron runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He has one day off to catch up on the work assigned, get ahead of the reading, and just relax before his friends drag him off to hang out until the sun rises for an entire weekend. He’s sure you’ll love it. You’ve always loved staying out at night where it’s light, watching the sunrise and going to sleep to it.

Despite everything, you enjoy the solitude the night, the contemplative silence of it. Just like him.

He can’t wait to see you again.

Sitting in the RA office and watching time tick by, he can’t help but feel like something is chaining him down. A heavy weight sits between his shoulders and he stares at the clock for what feels like a short eternity, unable to focus.

The day is slow in its passing, and a growing, unwanted hollowness begins to fill his soul as he half-heartedly finishes his criminal causation theory assignment, reviews for the quiz on Tuesday, and reads the next chapter on the foundations of the criminal justice system. He doesn’t really pay attention to any of it, though, and he feels like his head is stuffed with cotton as he gets up for the first time in hours and stretches, glancing at the time.

Your plane is supposed to land at 6:30.

It’s 6:00 now, and he was supposed to eat dinner before going to pick you up.

Shit. He’ll just have to eat at the bar.

Gathering his books and papers into his bag, he slings it onto his shoulder, trying to ignore the cold sweat clamming his hands up just as the phone in the RA office rings. It’s so jarring her starts, turning to the device and his heart pounds in his throat as he goes to grab it. Duty to the job means he has to, even if he might be late. You’ll understand, right?

“Hello, Resident Assistant speaking,” he says with a sigh.

“Hey.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Student Services was kind enough to reroute me.” A car beeps behind you and he frowns, holding the phone closer to his ear as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder to sit more firmly. “I’m calling from an airport payphone, but bad news. My flight got delayed, so I can’t come to the bar tonight. I’ll be arriving, like, dead in the morning. Two or three AM.”

“Damn. The boys will miss meeting you,” he says, unable to help the unhappy but forced smile. It comes across as a grimace but he hopes you appreciate the effort. It’s what you’d say if you were here.

“The boys?” you echo, amused. “Well then, tell the boys that they’ll have to wait until morning.” More seriously: “I’m really sorry, Aaron. I was so excited to see you tonight.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s—it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower?” you repeat and Aaron feels his throat shrink to the diameter of a needle. “You don’t call me that unless you’re genuinely sorry about something bad. Like, death-bad.” Then, a bright laugh that shouldn’t bat away the dreary disposition overcoming him, but it does. “Aaron, it’s not that important—just one night. Look, let’s meet up at 10AM in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning and make up for it, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. See you in a bit, Hopscotch.”

“Bye.”

He heads to his room, your voice echoing in his head. Freshening up with a splash of cold water and a rake of a comb through his hair, he explains the situation to Earl as they head down to the bar near campus where some of the other guys are already drinking.

“That’s too bad. Would’ve been nice to meet her.”

“Tomorrow, Earl. She isn’t cancelling.”

“I know, but y’know, it would’ve been fun to beat her in darts.”

“You’re awful at darts.”

“Bigger opponent pool. C’mon, cheer up, Hotch. It’s just a delayed flight, you said so yourself.” More grumpy silence. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. First shots are on me.”

His cheeks flushed with heat, he grabs at the shot blindly and throws it back, laughing as his friends get on the dance floor. The bar seems to haze before him. The darkness is pierced by blue lights and red as the shadowed patrons swing to and fro on the floor. Everything is gauzy, edges blurred as the lights flicker and filter through the crowd. Aaron slouches against the booth, smirking at the way Earl’s trying to lay the moves on a girl who merely walks away and he flashes a sympathetic thumbs up before his friend simply rejoins the rest of the guys on the floor.

Everyone had chipped in to buy him round after round in order to get him to loosen up, and it’s hard to admit, but it’s worked. Everything is ethereal, and he feels like he’s floating through life.

He wants to dance, but he doesn’t think he can stand on his own two feet, to be honest. His entire world is tipped and the silly smile on his face isn’t going to disappear any time soon as a figure makes her way through the crowd, making her way towards him. It catches his eye, the way she moves around people, keeps her head held up.

He can’t quite see her face but even then, he knows that he knows her.

“What are you doing here?” he asks before he can stop himself, like he isn’t in control of his mouth. He gapes as the woman sits down beside him. Her skin smells like sweet fruit and the sting of tequila as she slings an arm around his neck, and his entire stomach flips as she leans over, her arm bent and her fingers playing with the hair by his ear. “You’re not… you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?” she asks, twirling hair around her finger as she gently trails her other hand down his chest. “You don’t want me here?”

“No, no, I’ve missed you, I just—” Her palm runs lower, over his stomach and further. His head whips towards her and he catches the sweet, dulcet notes of warm vanilla spice shampoo. It calms him, sweet in his sinuses and he watches her indistinguishable face. Despite not seeing quite clearly, he knows she’s beautiful with an unintentionally seductive smile, a tentative charm to her movements.

The hand stops and a heat burns through his chest, following the trail she’d carved into him and he feels blood drain from his head so viciously it leaves him lightheaded.

“Just what?” she asks quietly, yet still so loudly over the pub’s pounding music and he groans softly, head tilting back.

“Shit. I just didn’t expect you here. I should introduce you to my friends—” He wants to get up but finds his entire body moving through molasses. He can barely lift a finger and, through the blurred streams of the conscious and the subconscious, he knows he doesn’t really want to.

He doesn’t want to share.

“Oh, then let’s go.” Her hand lifts but, like a flash of lightning, his fingers wrap around her wrist and keep her firmly against him. “Aaron.” Chastising this time, like he’s a housecat, and she, the exasperated owner. Fingers thread through his hair as he grins at the woman.

“I’m not keen on sharing you right now,” he admits, eyes falling to lips that press into a wondrous smile. “I don’t feel keen on sharing you ever.”

“Is that a fact?” she asks, and he nods, his nose brushing against hers as she leans down to kiss him. Her mouth is warm ecstasy, like cider on a cold winter day that burns through his blood, and his heart is beating everywhere at once—in his throat, in his fingers, between his legs. Fingers card through his hair as his hand finds the curve of a hip and he pulls.

Immediately, as if sensing his intentions before he even thinks it, the woman swings a leg over his hip and straddles him, the dress riding up luxurious thighs and he chuckles to himself as her hands find his neck, thumbs brushing over the sharp cut of his jaw. Her mouth opens against his, breathing into the next ferocious kiss again as his hands trace the shape of her, the swell of her legs, the cool heat of her skin against his burning hands.

“What do you want from me, Aaron?” she whispers, leaning in close enough that he can feel her lips against the shell of his ear, and then down his neck. He gasps, breath catching in his throat as her hands gently squeeze his throat as if reminding him of her previous question but he can’t quite speak. She kisses down past his collarbones, pulls down the neck of his shirt teasingly and peppers kisses to the skin that she can reach. Her fingers are pressing into his pulsepoint, the other hand travelling down his waist again and he knows she can feel it, the hard bulge pressing up between her legs.

She trails back up again, her kisses teasing the corner of his mouth and he turns, trying to catch the elusive minx only to delight in her light laughter when she pulls back.

“Tease,” he mumbles, eyes shut tight and only then do her lips find his again just as fingers pull at his belt buckle and he sucks in a breath as she glances down with him, curiously running her knuckles gently along the curve of it. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows down his gasp and he hears her chuckle. As if he’s a mere bystander to his own actions, Aaron watches his hands trail up the sides of her and slowly find purchase on her shoulders.

With the gentlest of pressure, he pushes down, and it’s like she melts between his hands, legs sliding, entire body sinking as his legs open wider to welcome her. Her breath is warm as she unzips his jeans, fingers prying his boxers down until they brush against it, pulsing and hard against his abdomen.

“Jesus,” she whispers but he hears it so clearly, her breath teasing the tip as fingers wrap around his dick. A strong, warm tongue follows, from the bottom to the tip, tracing the vein and every single ounce of oxygen leaves his body when she goes down on him, endlessly warm and wet. Hands wrap around what isn’t in her mouth and his fingers find her scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as his head hits the wall behind him.

Swallowing tightly, a lopsided smirk crosses his face and he lets out a soft sigh when she tilts her head, takes him in until she’s gagging on it. His hips twitch but a hand against his pelvis stalls him, a firm pressure that makes him open his eyes and look down to see her already staring back at him. Eyes dark, lips shining in what light there is, he nearly loses it right there as she swallows him down, making his entire body clench. His jaw tight, he lets out a hissed moan and the hand not on her head grabs his thigh, trying to stave off the desire to fuck her mouth.

The bass beat of the pub beats in his head as the hand on his hip finds the hand on his thigh, traces the tense veins along the back as her head slowly draws up, teeth grazing, tongue flat against his cock.

And then, down again, heavy breaths against his navel through the nose, and he’s in fucking bliss as the woman just goes on and on, deeper and deeper and when she gags, it almost makes him lose his already ill-tempered control because her fingers dig into the back of his hand, the other one squeezes the base of his cock, and stars explode behind his eyes as he chuckles breathlessly, blindly to the ceiling.

A ringing splinters through his skull as he groans, the need to thrust growing too powerful but she squeezes his hand, telling him to stay still without ever lifting her mouth off his cock. He can hear it, the sounds of her wet mouth rising and falling, sucking and licking and fuck, if he’s not going to come down her throat—

Her tongue drags along the underside of his cock as she pulls away, hollowing out her cheeks and dragging her fingers up his painfully hard erection, through the wet slick her mouth left behind and she pulls herself up, back bending underneath his hand, chest pressed flush against his and he can taste her again; the sweetness of vanilla, the sweat the pub brings all its occupants, the desire that fizzles so wantonly against his tongue.

“Am I still teasing?” she asks, lips brushing against his chin before he’s lifting his head again. Her hands run over his chest, find the planes of his shoulders, the cord of his neck, and he chuckles, squeezing his waist as she climbs into his lap again, sits squarely so that his erection rubs against her stomach. He bites back a groan and her smirk tells him all he needs to know.

“Seeing as you didn’t let me finish…” he trails off, just as humorous and she laughs, mouth ghosting his, and he almost reaches for it before she’s drawing back, always just out of reach. Never his. Never. “C’mere.”

“You’re no fun,” she mutters, but her smile betrays her faux displeasure and as his hands down and under her dress, skirting along the waistband of lacey panties, he chuckles huskily. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know. And do you know how much I want you? How much… how much I need you?” His fingers hook on the waistband and begin to tug just as she cups his face and leans down. His eyes flutter shut and everything seems to melt away as her breath tickles his nose and he grins, pulling down, down, down…

“You could show me, if you’d like…”

Her laughter is the only thing he can hear. Well, that and…

And that ringing—

Holy shit, what is that ringing?

Opening his eyes, there is nothing. Reaching blindly in the darkness, his hand collides with his alarm clock and he slaps the button, turning it off as he groans, turning the digital numbers towards him.

5:45AM

When did he get back? God, his head is pounding, and… he has to get up. Shit. His thoughts are a disorganized mess as he gets up, throwing off the blankets and it’s only then he’s painfully aware that he got… more than excited about his dream.

His dream that’s fading from his memory the longer he’s awake that he can barely remember any of it. Iit was at the bar last night? When did he even get back to the dorm?

Swinging his legs off the bed, he flicks the light on the nightstand, spotting a glass of water with a dissolving alka selzter tablet and a note. Grabbing it, he squints against the light as he reads the messy, uneven scrawl.

Stayed by your side all night because you sulked and got hammered. Like blackout drunk. Even outdrank me, buddy, which is fuckin impressive.

Wake me up for breakfast. I’m drunk.

Goodnight. And you’re welcome.

-E

Shaking his head, he downs the water despite how much his head throbs at the movement before he gets up and awkwardly palms the front of his boxers, trying to ignore how much it physically hurts that he’s not doing anything about it.

He needs to shower and take care of this.

Grabbing new clothes, Aaron glances at his snoring roommate and curses his routine of waking up so damn early. He collects his toiletries, and as he heads for the shower, he tries to think back on his dream, but it’s dissipating quicker by the second.

It was definitely at the bar, he thinks. Something about… he doesn’t know but something smelled and tasted sweet. What was I even doing at the bar?

Well, by the erection against his thigh, it’s safe to assume what he was dreaming about.

The question is more about the who.

Your eyes fly open and you lurch up on your bed.

Your whole body is burning as the remaining wisps of your dream begin to fade and you glance around yourself, disoriented. You could’ve sworn you weren’t in your bedroom for a second, but as you glance around, you know you are. You’re no longer in that dark place with blue lights that swung, figures blurry. That someone who was crouched in front of you, you think, is gone and his hands which had pulled your legs apart with gentle hesitation hadn’t left scorch marks, but they might as well have.

The sensation still lingers.

God, it feels like you haven’t slept a wink and as you slowly wake, your body rebooting, you become more filled with dread. Sighing heavily, you rub at your eyes and touch your cheeks, trying to remember what you did before sleeping.

I showered, went straight to bed. Didn’t go out… then… What’s happening? What was I even dreaming about?

It’s only then you become acutely aware of between your legs. The soaked, uncomfortable sensation, the strange tightness of your thighs.

Holy fuck. And about who?

Running a hand over the cold sheets, you shiver and get up, grabbing the unopened complimentary mini bottle of water you’d gotten from the plane from your bag.

As soon as you take one sip, you’re chugging it down, trying to alleviate the sweat gathering at the nape of your neck, slipping down your back. You feel oily and strangely empty, your heart racing as you toss the empty plastic into the trash can and head back towards the bed, reaching blindly for the light switch. Turning it on, you glance at the clock. 5:47 in the morning.

Charming.

In less than five hours, you’ll have to be heading down to the lobby and facing your best friend.

Why does that thought suddenly fill you with a terrible concoction of nerves, nausea, and cold shivers?

Trying to grasp the last remnants of your dream, you head for the bathroom to splash some water on your face and change your underwear, too bone-dead tired to even think about showering. Then, you head back to bed to try to get some sleep, but the heat seems to be more than skin-deep because despite the amount of splashing and patting of freezing water against an exhausted face, a terrible, sinking feeling twists your gut, making your knees weak.

What on Earth were you even dreaming about? You can’t even remember now except you feel utterly exhausted in the wake of it and the only hint of the content is the slick between your thighs.

Your sleep-addled brain eventually convinces any part of you still awake to just try to sleep, and as you slip into the covers, the faint but entirely unique scent of cologne, beer and smoke clings to your senses.

[THE PRESENT]

Really, it should be okay.

The hotel isn’t too sketchy, the lobby smells vaguely of lavender and cinnamon from one of those bath shop candles, and he shouldn’t be worried.

Why is he worried? His guts have been in knots since he’s woken up, his head feels like it's been dunked in water for hours and everything is swimming as he sits in the lobby, his palms sweating. Maybe it’s the hangover, but it feels heavier than that. Yes, his head is hammering, but there’s a strange upset in his gut, too.

Must’ve been something about that dream he can’t quite place. Just thinking about it makes his head beat even harder.

But, you had said ten o’clock.

Ten o’clock.

He looks at his wrist watch.

9:57

Time seems to be passing so slowly that he’s not sure the seconds even tick by as his knee begins to jiggle, his hands run flat against his jeans. When he can’t take the nervous ticking inside his chest, he gets up to pace, eyes darting to the staircase where you’d be coming down from.

Is he nervous about seeing you or excited? Is it both? Neither? Something else?

Aaron thinks he’s going to throw up. What if it’s awkward? After all, years between the last visit and now—in the summer, somehow they always just miss each other or there’s money problems or some other plan—things are bound to change.

It’s nerves. It has to be.

The door opens and he turns around to see you there, walking over to him with a dark jacket over a green shirt. It clashes wonderfully and you’re smiling like the sun lives in your heart and you’re smiling at him.

“What’s the deal with the jacket, George?” you tease, gesturing to his leather jacket.

“George?” he repeats easily, too easily. An overwhelming flood in his chest and you arch an eyebrow, grinning still, and it’s like no time has passed at all. “And here I thought I was John.” Your smile only grows and he feels like he can’t breathe and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.

As you adjust your own jacket, compliment him on his, and ask where he wants to go for breakfast, Aaron can’t help the terrible ache in his chest.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit.

He opens the door and you walk by, the smell of shampoo invading his entire space and he reels back, blinking. His breath hitches, his entire body stiffens.

Warm vanilla spice.

Oh, shit.

a/n: so, uh, sex dreams for the win? to be decided ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dont forget to reblog if u liked loves ❤️

TAGS: @withyoutilltheendofthismess @thebriarpatch @joemazzello-imagines @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @sera-wonderland @pity-mee @duvetsandpillows @roses-and-grasses @stainedpomegranatelips @angelsbabey @sansonnette @xxlovingfandomsxx @rachelxwayne @kingandrear @simsvetements @emery--nicole--morrison @genevievedarcygranger @mooneylupinblack @sercyan @forgottenword

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

Note

Can we get some spare Launo headcannons for July?

Launo sucked big time at knight school when he first arrived—he didn’t exactly have any background help given no one in his family was a knight either. He was basically assigned the equivalent of “equipment manager” during the first few months. And when he did get proper actions with a broadsword or a bow, Launo struggled with footwork and precision and all the minute details of a duel so he often got his ass handed to him.

But one the top kids in Launo’s class thought he was cool anyways—that was, one Arcadius Hartell. Pretty, rich, ace with sword, bow, spear, and anything sharp, and pretty much had no flaws or weaknesses. Launo at first thought the guy was just pitying him, the kid who has never won a single sparring match and consistently put on training dummy duty (that is reattaching their heads when they got lopped off)

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Arcadius came to ask something from him.

“How do you do that?”

Launo turned from the training dummy he was working on. “S-Sorry, what?”

“The...the thing you do. With the...thing?” Arcadius pointed to the needle and thread Launo was holding as he was reattaching the dummy’s forearm. “How do you do that?”

Launo scrunched his eyebrows in confuzzlement. “This is, uh, well. It’s just sewing I guess. If this guy were real I guess it would be stitching, haha...” He patted the dummy’s wood shoulder playfully as if joking with a pal—the dummy immediately tipped over, Launo coughed and stepped in front of the mess to ignore it. Arcadius nodded thoughtfully.

“So, do you have a special technique or something?”

“I mean, not really, it’s just regular old sewing...”

“But I assume you’ve spent years training on the art.”

“I...uh...I guess? My mom taught me.”

“Oh! So it’s like...an apprenticeship...?”

“...Are you under the impression that sewing is some sacred gift that gets passed down to the worthy or something?”

“.........no....”

The two boys just stood awkwardly for a moment longer, Launo studying Arcadius’ face.

“You don’t even know what sewing is do you?”

“O-Of course I do! It’s the...thing.” He made a sword motion with his fingers, as if wielding a tiny blade. “You stab the stuff and it repairs. With the...” Arcadius squinted as he thought for a moment, “...stool...”

“Spool?”

“Yeah! That! So, look, you’re pretty skilled at everything—“

“I am??” Launo took a step back in shock.

“Yeah! You always fix the equipment, and somehow haul around all those weapons, and make us cool lunches—“

“I don’t know, I made Rubeo vomit last week cause I forgot he hates blueberries...”

Arcadius shook his hands. “N-Not the point. And he sort of deserves it. The fact is you’re obviously leagues ahead of the game—“

“I—Actually I wouldn’t say—“

“—so you just gotta teach me everything you know!” Arcadius pumped a fist and closed his eyes. “How could I ever call myself a knight if I don’t even learn the basics of equipment management! Who will mend the wounded holes in my soldier’s pride if I can’t even fix the tears in my uniform! A mountain’s peak is equivalent to the shallow shore if you have no bearing of the heights you soar.”

Launo blinked. “Are you...okay?”

Arcadius scratched his head. “Aha...sorry. That’s a quote from Aria Nori’s newest volume. Guess I was too into the moment there.”

“Oh! The Zora poet! I’ve read her stuff! I haven’t read her latest volume, but my dad often binds her books—“

“Really?!” Arcadius’ eyes were suddenly star struck. “That’s so cool! This is all the more reason you gotta teach me this stuff.” He waved again at the collapsed training dummy. “Maybe start with the beetle and thread.”

“Needle. D-Do you not know what a needle is?”

Arcadius’ eyes glazed over. “...no...oh my gods that’s not gonna be on the test is it?? I’m so screwed—“

“Nonono it’s not, I’m just...” Launo bit his tongue. Now that he thought about it, he never really saw anyone else in his class do mundane house chore stuff. They were far too busy sharpening swords and bragging about their parents or grandparents or great uncles or cousins that totally were war heroes and high ranking political figures. Sewing could just be a Hateno thing, could it..?

“Can’t you just hire someone to teach you?” Launo started. “I mean, I’m super flattered! Just that, I’m not exactly a master at this, so I’m sure there are adults out there that are more accomplished.”

Arcadius hung his head. “I don’t think my dad would let me...Pretty much everything not sword related he just hires someone to do for me. And he’s super picky about what training I focus on.”

“Well it’s not really official training, it could just be a hobby.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, sounding out the word. “H...Hob...?”

“O-OK, just forget that. H-How about...” Launo didn’t meet his eyes as he absentmindedly kicked the dirt. “Y-You like poetry, right? You can come over to my house and look at my dad’s collection. And when we’re there, I can let my mom...” He scrunched his eyes, trying to nail down the words, “...apprentice you? On the...art, of sewing?”

Arcadius’ eyes were wide enough to reflect the heavens themselves. “R-Really?? You’d do that??”

“I don’t see why not. It’ll be after call and,” Launo’s eyes suddenly sparked, “...You can just tell your dad that you’re training me! Say that you were asked to help your fellow classmates cause you’re already so far ahead from everyone else.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie, Launo thought, bitterly.

“Hmm...” Arcadius tapped his chin, before shrugging. “Might have to tweak the explanation to ‘getting extra credit for top grades by tutoring’ cause I don’t know how he’ll feel about me helping the competition.” He articulated the last word with a mocking, adulting tone. Then he held out a hand. “But I think it sounds like a deal! I’ll give you some pointers, and you introduce me to your mentor.”

“My mom.”

“Yeah, that.”

Launo shook his hand, still a bit timidly, given he now noticed that a few other boys in the training yard were watching the prodigy student interact with the glorified janitor boy.

So they both tutored each other: Larc, in the art of knowing what sewing magic was (Larc bringing the most expensive and ornate needle Launo had ever seen, even though Larc claimed he just found it in his father’s closet) and brewing delicious broths (“Wait, you have to stand around this pot for hours and cook this stuff?? I thought you just made soup in a bowl! You know, like how servants take off the silver cover on the tray and the soup is already there?” “We...dont have waiters or anything...so our method of cooking different.”) Meanwhile, Launo was able to make some progress with knight training—keyword, “some.”

“Don’t make your stance so wide.” Arcadius shoved Launo’s back foot with his boot. “Keep your feet closer together, you only want enough distance so that your front foot can hover an inch off the ground while your back foot stays planted. Any further, and you’ll topple too easily.”

Launo adjusted his stance as instructed, and readied the rapier again. He set his jaw. “OK. Come at me!”

Arcadius nodded. He picked up the wooden sword and swung (a bit slowly and wide) at Launo’s side.

Launo immediately shoved his rapier point left to counter his attack, but instead moved with such force and vigor that he practically fell onto Arcadius’ blade.

Arcadius chuckled, dropping the sword and helping Launo up again. “You don’t need to use to much force when you swing. In fact it’s better to work with simple quick movements with any rapier or piercing sword, since the damage is done by the tip, not the weight.”

“S-Sorry...” Launo mumbled as he got up again.

“Don’t be! Oh hey!” Arcadius suddenly went back around towards the pile of weapons and pulled out a claymore. “Actually, maybe a sword like this will work better for you! You won’t have to worry as much about holding back, or being finesse. All the power is in that downward swing—!” Arcadius swung the sword into a nearby log to demonstrate, nearly cutting it asunder.

He offered it to Launo. “And don’t let the size fool you, it’s not actually that heavy. Large weapons still need to let soldiers be quick enough to parry and block attacks.”

Launo turned the claymore around in his hands, studying the blade and handle.

Arcadius gestured to the log. “Well, go on! It’s similar to the grip I taught you with the broadsword, but this time you use your other hand in the bottom to support the weight as it turns on an axis. Try that downward swing I showed you!”

Launo paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he planted his foot down, and swung the claymore down with all his might, aiming for another soon-to-be piece of firewood.

The claymore whistled as it fell, and it cut into the log deep—about halfway. Yet, still not nearly as deep as how Arcadius had done it.

Nonetheless, he was hopping with joy for Launo. “That was awesome!! You did great!!”

He sighed as he left the claymore in the log. “No I didn’t...”

“What are you talking about? That was probably the best blow you’ve done all night!”

“Yeah! And it’s not even a quarter of the damage that you did with your swing!”

“Well, it still took me a while to—“

Launo gestured to the other log. “It’s been how many weeks?? And I’m not even CLOSE to being as good as you, much less being a top student...” He plopped into the dirt and laid himself out like a starfish.

Larc stood over him, confused. “Why would you want to be a top student?”

“BECAUSE I SUCK ASS, DUDE!” Launo held up his arms, exasperated. Larc, on instinct, stepped back and held his hands close to his chest as he fiddled with his thumbs and mumbled an apology. Launo immediately sighed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m mad at you. You’re really great, Link. You’re so nice to me and you’re talented and I’m so grateful, but I’m just...” He shifted in the dirt again. “I don’t think I could ever be like you. I’d even dare to say it’s impossible.”

Larc stilled, playing with his thumbs, before daring to step closer and sit in the dirt beside him.

“Can I tell you a secret, Launo?”

He was quiet, but he nodded a yes.

“I think my brother’s a stronger fighter than me.”

Launo furrowed his eyebrows confused, but he continued.

“He just never takes his knight training seriously, because of my father. But I bet if he really tried, he’d be great at it.”

Ah. So that’s what he meant.

“But I AM trying.” Launo whined. “I guess compared to you it doesn’t seem like much but—!”

“Nono! Sorry that’s not what I meant!” Larc quickly cut in. “I just...” He trailed off.

“...There’s a reason I have to be the best.” Larc finally said. He was looking out into the woods, but Launo felt that he wasn’t really looking at anything in particular, maybe deep in thought. “There’s a reason I can’t settle, I can’t rest. It’s really important that I get this all right. And I guess that makes me admirable to most people but...”

He looked down at Launo, still spread out in the dirt. “I didn’t really choose to be a knight, unlike you. I didn’t actually choose to be the best, and I don’t get why so many people do train to be at the top out of their own violation. It really...sucks ass.” He articulated the last part in Launo’s tone, and they both giggled.

“So...I guess that I’m trying to say here is that...” He thought one his words a moment longer. “I think so many people are afraid of trying new things, because they fear not being the best at it, not being at the top. And I suppose ambition is good but...” He tilted his head and shrugged at Launo. “As someone who’s supposedly at the top, I would say I envy anybody that can make progress that their proud of. You choose to be a knight, and you’re training for it out of your own strength and courage. That’s more than I’ll ever have, so you should probably get off the ground and realize that soon.”

Launo’s eyes widened, a bit unnerved by how uncharacteristically blunt Larc was being.

“In my opinion, anyone that aims to be better than everyone is stupid—maybe that’s just me, but...I would think that if I was you, I’d be proud of any progress I made. If I was more skilled than I was yesterday, that’s really all I would care about. Why would I care about being the top of my class? I would kill to just be satisfied with being a better me.”

There was silence as the boys took in Larc’s words. Then he suddenly stood up. “G-Goddess Hylia, sorry I’ve been talking for so long, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.” He went to collect his things. “You can keep the claymore, I think you’d be great at it, just...”

Larc packed his swords and backpack, before turning back to the flopped out Launo. “...I think you’re really cool, Launo. So don’t tap out for my sake—I’m not the person that matters in your training, am I? So don’t give up for any silly reasons like that.”

Launo perked his head up to meet his gaze. While Arcadius was usually serious and controlled during training at school, Larc always seemed to have genuine excitement about swords when it came to him. The bright smile on his face caused his cheeks to warm and he immediately flipped his head back to hide it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Launo!” Larc ran off into the night, a cobblestone streets in the distance swallowing his figure.

“See you...” Launo whispered.

He lay in the dirt a moment longer—his mother would probably berated him for the stains again—when he finally got up and looked at the claymore in the log. He walked up to it and observed it further, it was another a sixth of the way deep. He glanced at Larc’s log, which was nearly split in two, and sighed. Then he glanced back at his own work.

“Well, it’s better than when I first started I guess...” Launo mumbled.

No one responded.

The boy let out a huff, and gripped the sword again in his hands.

“But I can do better.”

By the time Launo was 16 he was finally beating his classmates with ease, specializing in longswords, axes, and hammers. And while he definitely still “sucked ass” in things like archery and lance work—to which some boys still teased him for—he found overtime that he no longer cared about what they thought. They had their strengths, and he had his. And to top it off, absolutely no one in the academy could make a lemon cookie like him. So at least he had the best in show for that angle.

Even years later, after certain incidents transpired concerning House Hartell, Launo always welcomed Larc to his house for “training.” Although after a while, it would be hard to still call it that when a large chunk of time is really just spent running their fingers through each other’s hair.

“But we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

And even years after graduating as part of the top ten in his class and working as a knight, some of his old classmates would tease him for being the “rich boy’s lap dog,” Launo would find that he still really didn’t care—after a punch or two was thrown, of course. He found that his new lack of anxiety and concern heavily stemmed from that night, when Larc had told him about his envy for choice and satisfaction. Thinking back at the memory of his handling with a sword and his happy little smile once made Launo blush so hard his father teased him about it for the rest of his life—his mother claimed he went so red he would fit right in with the tomato stew. One of these days, Launo would pay Larc back for the endless teasing he got from his parents. And pay Larc back he would, indeed.

I mean, he already had the ring.

#hku spoilers #Launo Birch

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rai-wick · 3 years

Text

Gally x Reader Chapter 21: Choices

Y/N'S P.O.V

"It's the doors. They aren't closing"

I ran to the Gates followed by everyone. There was a silence as we stared down at the entrance then a deafening boom. We looked around and saw the other walls creak open.

"Chuck, go to the Council Hall and start barricading the doors"I said, tearing my eyes away from the gates.

"Winston, go with him"Newt ordered and they ran off.

"Get the others"Gally told Clint"Tell them to go to the forest. Go hide, now!"

"Minho, I want you to grab any weapon you can find. I'll meet you at the Council Hall"Thomas told him.

"Minho, I have loads in my cabin"I ignored his questioning looks.

"Let's go!"Newt and Frypan ran to the kitchen while Minho and I ran to my cabin. We had just grabbed them when we began to hear screaming. I looked at him with wide eyes and we ran outside, meeting up with Newt and Frypan.

"Come on!"I saw Thomas yell as a Griever approached him. I threw my spear at it, distracting it as we ran to the Council Hall.

"Over here!"Chuck waved us over and we ran inside.

"______! The door"I slammed it shut, the purring of the Griever was loud as it jumped onto the roof. It poked it's tail through the roof, causing a beam to fall down. We piled into one corner as the Grievers poked their tails through the walls. I glanced as one tail crept up behind Chuck, my heart dropping as I ran to him.

"CHUCK!"I grabbed his hands, pulling as Thomas, Teresa and Minho joined me"Pull him back!"

"Chuck, don't let go!"

"No shit!"We struggled to pull him away. There was a scream and we saw Alby smashing the tail with the end of the beam. It retreated as I checked Chuck for injuries.

"Thanks Alby"Chuck picked up the needle that had fallen off before we saw the tail come back.

"Alby! Watch out!"Thomas yelled just as it grabbed Alby. He held onto the roof and Thomas and I ran over. I grabbed Alby's hand, pulling him back when he looked Thomas in the eyes.

"Thomas, get them out"With that he was pulled away.

"Alby!!"Thomas exclaimed. In his blindness, he ran towards the door.

"Thomas! Don't go out there!" I ran after him and we all exited the Council Hall. The Glade was quiet except for the fires that were raging on.

"Where is everybody?"Frypan said"And who's that over there?" We saw the angry figure of Gally marching towards us.

"Gally..."I warned just as he punched Thomas right in the face.I put myself between them as Winston and Jeff held Gally back.

"This is all you Thomas! Look around!"

"Back off Gally! It's not Thomas's fault!"I yelled, my hands up.

"You heard what Alby said! He's one of them!"Gally struggled, trying to get free.

"One of who?"

"He's one of them and they sent him here to destroy everything and now he has!"He screamed"This is all your fault!"

"Back off Gally!" I looked back at Thomas and saw him holding the needle.

"Thomas don't!"I yelled as he stabbed himself with the needle. I felt anger flare inside me while Chuck ran to get the other syringe. I turned to Gally, seething with rage "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

"MY problem?!? He's the one who came in here, destroying everything we've built and worked for!"

"You've hated him since day one!"

"Why are you always taking his side?! YOU ARE MY GIRLFRIEND!"There was deadly silence as everyone's eyes widened.

"I shucking knew it"I heard Minho whisper. Ignoring the stares we were getting, I stepped away from Gally, my heart tearing as I did so.

"Not anymore I'm not"

"Fine you're with them, where you've always wanted to be, skank"

"Screw you Gally!"I stormed away, my tears flowing down my face, I headed to my safe spot behind the runner's cabin.

~THE NEXT MORNING~

"Hey" I whipped around to see Minho. I stood and looked at him with a blank emotion.

"Thomas and Teresa are getting up soon"

"Okay"We began to walk to the Slammer. I felt his gaze on me making me sigh.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine"I muttered. I saw his mouth open and I turned to him"Now is not the time ok?"

"You're right"He nodded and we continued"I just can't believe I was right"I rolled my eyes as we arrived. I sat down next to Chuck as we saw Thomas stir in Teresa's lap. I caught her eye and smirked making her blush as he opened his eyes.

"You okay?"She asked him. He nodded and looked up at us.

"What the hell were you thinking?"Chuck fiercely told him. I shook my head at Thomas in agreement.

"What happened?" He said, sitting up.

"Gally has taken control"I kept the tremble out of my voice"He said we had a choice. Either join him......or get banished at sundown with you"

"And the others agreed to that?"

"Gally has everyone convinced that you're the reason all this happened"Teresa looked down at her hands.

"Well he's been right so far"

"What are you talking about?"Minho asked him.

Thomas took a deep breath before answering."This place, it's not what we thought it was. It's not a prison, it's a test. It all started when we were kids. They would give us these challenges, they were experimenting on us. And then people started disappearing. Every month, one after the other, like clockwork"

"They were sending them up into the maze"Newt concluded.

"Yeah but not all of us"Thomas continued.

"What do you mean?"I asked him.

"Guys, I'm one of them"He sighed"The people who put you here, I worked with them. I watched you guys for years. The entire time you have been here, I was on the other side of it" His eyes met Teresa's"So were you and ______"

"What?"She whispered as I felt my heart sink.

"If we were with them, then why are we here?"

"Because of you,____"

"Me?"I looked at Thomas"Why?"

"______ refused to listen and obey them. They couldn't continue their experiments and you became uncontrollable. You were the first member to go up into the maze. It was a warning to the rest of us"He turned back to Teresa"Teresa, we did this to them"She shook her head in disbelief"Why would then they send us up here if we were with them"

"Maybe for the same reason as ____, maybe not. Doesn't matter"

"He's right, it doesn't matter, any of it"I said to him"Because the people we were before the maze don't even exist anymore. The Creators took care of that.But what does matter is who we are now and what we do right now. You went into the maze and you found a way out"

"Yeah but if I hadn't, Alby would still be alive"

"Maybe"Newt added"But I know that if he were here, he would be telling you the exact same thing. Pick your ass up and finish what you started. Because if we do nothing then that means Alby died for nothing and I can't have that"

"Okay"Thomas nodded"Okay, but we gotta get through Gally first"

Swallowing the fear that had built up, I cleared my throat"I have an idea"

~AT SUNDOWN~

Minho, Chuck, Newt and I watched as Thomas and Teresa were brought to the Gates. Gally walked in front of them as Thomas was dumped on the ground.

"This is such a waste"He sighed, sheathing his blade.

"Gally...."He turned and looked at Winston"It doesn't feel right, man"

"Yeah, what if Thomas is right?"Clint added"Maybe he could lead us home"

"We are home, okay? I don't wanna have to cross any more names off that wall"

"You really think banishing us is gonna solve anything?"Teresa scoffed

"No. But this isn't a banishing"He looked down before back at her"It's an offering"

"What? Wait! Gally, what are you doing?" A Glader began to tie Teresa's hands to the pole.

"You really think I'm gonna let Thomas back into the maze after what he has done? Look around you! Look at our Glade. This is the only way"Newt looked at Minho and I, nodding."And when the Grievers get what they came here for, everything goes back to the way it was" I glanced at Chuck who was standing ready.

"Are you listening to this? Why are you all just standing there? He's crazy"

"You shut up"He pointed at Teresa.

"If you stay here, the Grievers are going to come back. They're gonna come back and they're gonna keep coming back until you're all dead!"

"Shut up! Tie him up"Gally shouted"Do you hear me? I said tie him up!"The gladers each took an arm and began lifting Thomas up. He hit one of them in the groin before hitting the other with the stick as Newt hit him in the back with the edge of his knife. Chuck ran over with the bags while Frypan freed Teresa. I held my machete to Gally's back and shook my head, holding back the tears as I took in the appearance of the love of my life for what I thought was the last time. I carefully made my way to the group, not breaking eye contact with Gally.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?"He stared at me, his eyes dead.

"You don't have to come with us, but we are leaving"Thomas declared"Anyone else who wants to come, now is your last chance"

"Don't listen to him, he's just trying to scare you"

"No, he's not trying to scare you. You're already scared. I'm scared"I let out a deep breath, gripping my machete tighter"But I'd rather risk my life out there than spending the rest of it in here. We don't belong here. This place isn't our home, we were put here, we're trapped here. At least out there we have a choice. We can make it out of here, I know that"I looked around, my gaze ending on Gally, pleading for him to change his mind, desperately hoping he wouldn't leave me or I would leave him. Winston, Clint, Zart, Jeff and a few others joined us.

"Gally, it's over"I lowered my machete"Just come with us"He looked down before peering at me under his brows"Just come with me"I slowly lifted my hand out to him.

"Good luck against the Grievers"His voice was hoarse as I felt tears well up in my eyes.Thomas pulled my arm and we began our escape from the Maze.

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#the maze runner #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally imagines #maze runner gally #gally masterlist #newt maze runner #thomas maze runner #maze runner minho

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onetoomanyfilms · 3 years

Text

My Heart’s Always Yours - Part Three

Luke Patterson x FemaleOC!Character - Soulmate AU

Here we go people... enjoy! x

Teaser Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five Masterlist

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The three boys looked as shocked as she did. “What are you doing here?” It was the brunette with the orange beanie who spoke up first. His face showed confusion, but his words were soft. “Umm, Julie told me to wait out here but I see you guys are…” Mya began to turn back and leave. “No,” the blonde guy called out, “I mean.” He took a deep breath, turning towards the other two. They seemed close, almost as close as Julie, Flynn and Mya were. Family. “Guys, I don’t think Julie knows she can see us. Other wise she would’ve come out here with her and introduced us, you know.”

“Oh,” the leather jacket guy came over to Mya, hand held out to say hi, “well, I’m Reggie.” Mya went to shake his outstretched hand but they didn’t touch each other. Her hand went straight through his. It went straight through. If it weren’t for a tingling sensation taking over and settling into her bones, she would’ve thought nothing had happened. What was that? It was as if her entire hand was being lightly pressed with tiny needles.

Staring at the rough curvature of her hand, she paid no attention to what was happening around her as she felt a harsh thud against the heel of her boot. She fell backwards, tripping over the coffee table as she lost her footing. She was fully prepared to hit the concrete floor, to fully embarrass herself in front of these boys. Then a pair of firm arms caught her, keeping her from knocking herself out. Looking up, the colour of the orange beanie bled into her vision. His eyes a shade so full of colour she thought you’d be able to find a whole universe in them. She wanted to say thank you but the look on his face made her feel like what just happened wasn’t normal. Looking between the boys and thinking back to the handshake-that-wasn’t, she figured herself that this probably wasn’t what anyone was expecting.

“Mya!” Julie came waltzing into the garage, coming to a sudden halt as she took in the sight in front of her. “What’s going on here? Luke, how and why are you holding Mya right now?” ‘Luke’ gazed down towards Mya, their faces inches apart and just as they connected eye contact she fell with a thud to the floor, falling straight through Luke’s arms. “I mean… I was trying to stop that from happening. It was instinct, I guess cause you know I can’t, I mean couldn’t…”

“Luke, just spit it out.” He had stood up by now, scratching the back of his neck. “Well,” Mya began to explain as she lifted herself up and brushed imaginary dirt off her jeans, “I tripped over and was about to make a complete ass of myself when he caught me. But I can sense something about that isn’t normal. Is it?” Everyone around her shared glances, their faces scared, confused and perplexed at what had happened. But Luke had a glimpse of a grin sliding onto his face. He didn’t think he could touch anyone and when he had, he felt alive. Luke concentrated his gaze onto Mya, standing there just as confused as the rest of them. He couldn’t imagine how confused she would be when they tell her the three of them were dead. Her head moved and their eyes locked onto one another. Her eyes held a whole symphony in their irises, one that he just wanted to listen to for his whole life.

Mya took a soft step towards Luke. “I guess,” her words were gentle as if she was hesitant to take the wrong step, “I guess I should say thank you.” She was shorter than him, but only just. Tilting her head up to greet his, she felt like she had known him forever, but she hadn’t. “You’re welcome.” Luke put a goofy smirk onto his face like he’d just won a battle of the bands. Alex and Reggie knew what had happened earlier, the blonde one having already figured out what was going on. Pulling on his leather jacket, Reggie was just happy to see his friend happy. Julie, however, stood there with her arms crossed. She had no idea what was happening. Only that one of her best friends hated her and the other was currently making googly eyes at her newly found ghost friend.

Gently coughing, Julie regained the attention of the room. “I think we all need to talk. There’s quite a lot to get through.”

“Wait,” Mya turned and began to walk towards Julie, “what do you mean?”

“I guess I’ll rip the band aid off…” Julie put an arm around her friends shoulders and guided her to the sofa, “those three boys you see around you.”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“They’re ghosts. Luke, Alex and Reggie. I would introduce you but it seems like you already know each other.”

Mya looked at the three boys in turn as they waved at her. Least she could put a name to all of them now, she felt bad calling Alex ‘the blonde one’. This was weird. To be honest, whatever explanation Julie gave was going to be weird, the handshake confirmed that. But for some reason, Mya wasn’t scared. She wasn’t even hesitant to believe it. “So if you’re all dead, why can I see you?”

There was a question Mya did not want a proper answer too. Part of her deep down knew the truth already. But she couldn’t seem to accept it. Not quite yet. She needed to ask it.

“And, how come you caught me?”

Luke noticed the anxiety taking over her voice. He wanted to tell her it was all ok. He wanted to grab her hand and gently rub his thumb over her knuckles in the hopes of soothing her. “I think I have an idea.” Luke whipped his head around to drummer standing beside him. “What are you thinking Alex?”

“Come on man, think about it. You met her in the music room, writing a song you’ve already written.”

Julie sat forward, keeping a close eye on her best friend sitting next to her as she slowly realised what Alex was saying. “Alex.” Julie kept her voice low but stern. She knew how much Mya had relied on the idea of her ‘soulmate’, even if she denied their existence at every turn. She knew how much Mya would benefit from meeting her ‘soulmate’. But Julie knew this wasn’t how it should’ve been for her. And if Alex was wrong, Julie didn’t know how Mya would cope.

“You caught her. Her hand passed right through Reggie’s.”

Luke stared at Mya. He knew what Alex was saying. But they couldn’t be. Could they?

“I mean, I don’t have a clue about Julie, but she can see us.”

There it was, the spark they felt as they looked each other in the eyes. Mya had waited for this. She had dreamt of it since everything went wrong. It was the one thing she believed would be perfect. She’d dreamt of him. She’d dreamt of Luke.

“You’re soulmates.”

But he was a ghost. He was dead.

“Aren’t you?”

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‘And I oop’... next part up soon...

‘my heart’s always yours’ taglist: @starjane312 @fangirlangioma @sha-banks106 @ashleyleblancx @ellavalentine1844 @suvnsets @thesweetestsinner

if you wanna be on the ‘my heart’s always yours’ taglist interact with this post -> taglist

#luke patterson #luke patterson x oc #luke patterson au #luke #luke patterson imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie molina #julie #reggie peters #reggie #alex mercer #alex #original character #jatp fandom #fandom #fanfic #soulmate #soulmate au

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freerebelmentality · 3 years

Text

The high cost of living

AN: ***TRIGGER WARNING*** MENTIONS OF DRUG USE AND OVERDOSE. ** Ok may I request a Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain and her brothers found out and are not happy it and the reader just not having it and doesn’t want help and can’t handle being lectured about her brothers so she runs away and overdoses and her brothers find her but in the end her brothers help her in recovery and it fluffy in the end And can the reader age around 16-19 is up too you i hope this is ok for u if not I can change it. Requested by @supernerdycookietrashblr ** I took out the self harm and just stuck with the rest of the request. Sorry if this got way too long but I got carried away and I just really enjoyed writing this. Ideas came and wrote those down. So I hope you all will enjoy this and enjoy reading

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

Word Count: 2,762

On the road again, you thought while sitting in the back of the Impala.

Looking out the window, seeing the trees pass by at great speed is when you begin to feel sick.

“Dean, Dean. Pull over, Im going to be sick” you say rather quickly

With one quick stop, Dean pulls over to the side of the road and puts baby in park

“Geez, are you ok? You want some water? Mint? Mouth wash?” Sam asks as he rushes to your side.

“Mouth wash?” you reply while Sam runs back to the car and searches his bag for his mouth wash.

“Feeling a little hungover? Or just sick, sick?” Dean asks as he comes check on you as well

“A little hungover” you lie to Dean while Dean goes back to the car and reaches for a beer.

He decides something a little stronger than beer.

He pulls out his flask and walks back to your side.

Sam notices how incredibly sickly looking you’ve become and begins to worry that you are coming down with something.

You knew you were coming down from your latest high, well more like from you latest fix and you needed another. Fast.

Dean hands you the flask and you greatly take it from his hands and drink the entire thing. The whisky made things a little more tolerable.

“Thanks man, I needed that” you tell him and walk slowly back to the car.

Dean and Sam looked to you and noticed how you were walking. Like as if you were in pain and cold. The weather was warm and a beautiful day really.

“Are you sure youre feeling ok?” Dean asks as soon as he gets into the car

“Yes, step on the gas. I wanna go home already” you irritatingly reply back.

Dean didnt like that, so he did what he was told and stepped on the gas to head back to the bunker.

Finally arriving.

You get out of the car as fast as you could and into the bunker. You ran all the way to your room and found your stash hidden in your room.

You felt as though you werent moving fast enough but you made it to your room.

Dean and Sam looked at you oddly as you ran fast into the bunker.

“What the hell is wrong with her?” Dean asks as he takes the stuff from the car and into the bunker.

“Maybe she needs the bathroom again” Sam replies following Dean.

“Hmm’ is all Dean says and goes to his room to put his things away.

Once you got the needle ready, you sat on the toilet and poked the needle into your favourite vain. You pulled back the syringe to draw blood is when you injected the stuff. Slowly

Once the stuff reached your body is when you started to forget about everything else. Your withdrawals, depression, everything. Numbing out everything perfectly.

Or so you thought.

You came out of your room to look for your brothers to hang out with or just to get them to stay away from your room anyway.

“Are you feeling a lot better?” Dean asks while turning away from his cooking

“Yes, I feel a lot better” you reply way to happy but oh well you replied anyway

“Ok then” Sam says while he adds more notes to the folders in front of him

He has been adding the men of letters archives, well the both of them have been doing that and they thought you were doing the same but you dont remember a thing from your last hunt.

All you thought about was how to get your next fix or even next high. Weed wasnt cutting it anymore ever since getting into the opiates.

Stupid for getting into those. Oh well choices were made and it makes the feelings go away.

As the days go by which weeks go by as well. Dean and Sam begin to notice how incredibly bad you got while hunting, sick, and more sicker.

After the sickness, you would be at your normal self and be the great hunter they knew you to be. But when the sickness came, it was as if they didnt know who you were. Didnt look like you or anything.

“Let me know when she goes out, ok?” Dean asks Sam as he watches you walk to your room

“Uh, ok. Why?” Sam asks not really sure if he wants to know the answer but he is curious to see what Dean is up to.

“I want to look through her room, I want to see if Im right about something. If not then I am going to feel like a complete dick about it later” Dean explains himself as he looks towards the hall.

“Right about what?” Sam asks looking out for you as well

He hears you coming out of your room and walk the hallway and waits for you to appear.

“Hey guys, Im going to head out for a bit and I will be home in an hour or something” you tell them and head out the door.

You didnt give them any time to say anything cause you needed to head out and look for the number one thing you have been needing. You needed your next high. You needed it bad.

“Ok, go” Sam says to Dean as he books it to your room

“What exactly are we looking for?” Sam asks as he digs through your stuf

“Needles or drugs” Dean replies as he sees a box in the bottom of the sink in your bathroom

Dean hoped it wouldn’t be the things he is looking for. Other wise all of you weird behaviour he has noticed for the past couple years would be more understandable now.

He has seen this type of addiction before in fellow hunter friends, their addiction to opiates and how they passed to overdosing.

He opens the box and sees his worst nightmare

“Sam” is all Dean could say and drops the box

Sam rushes to Dean’s side and sees what has fallen to the floor.

All the used needles, cotton balls and spoons. Along with the rubber bands. He also sees the unopened rigs.

“No” Is all Sam can say

He doesnt understand why you would want to inject anything into yourself with poison.

They get out of your roomand wait for you to come back to the bunker.

Dean has a few words for you.

Sam has a few questions for you.

They couldnt believe their baby sister would turn to drugs

Dean is beginning to understand the border line alcoholism but he always thought it was just something to help you sleep. He didnt think it was something to settle the withdrawals.

The next morning, Dean and Sam are still seated in the library waiting for you to walk through the doors. None of them moved from their seats, they stayed seated like that and waited for you. Dean was to heated to even move from his seat.

His anger turned to worry when you never showed. Until now, his nerves settled and now all he wants to do is hug you and lock you away. But he needed to say a few things first before he can do that.

As you come walking down the stairs and see your brothers in the library looking at you all tired looking. You were about to say something when you see a familiar box. Your heart begins to race.

“Morning guys, sorry I didnt come home last night and sorry I didnt call or anything” you say to break the ice but knew you should have said nothing and should have went straight to your room

“Y/n? What the hell is this crap?” Dean asks opening the box and pushing it towards you.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly because your brother has found your dirty secret. Your life long dirty secret.

“You went through my room?” you ask not even going to lie about the box they found.

What was the whole point in lying? They found it, they figured it out and you werent going to lie about it.

It was as if you secretly hoped they would find it, maybe them finding it would finally get you to stop and go to treatment.

“Of course we went through your room. We wanted to know what was making you feel so crappy and during hunts” Sam says next, he finally finds his voice.

“You found my dirty secret. Now what?” you ask as anger begins to form.

“Why? How long? This needs to stop now” Dean replies sternly, he didnt want to get too angry. Otherwise he would have ruined the whole plan he had.

“Or else what?” What are you going to do if I dont stop?” you ask while looking to both of your brothers

They both went quiet, they didnt want to give any ultimatums cause they feared you would pick the poison over them and they knew you are going to pick that over them.

They wondered what they did wrong to make you turn to something else to numb out everything.

Sure Dean hasnt been the poster boy about opening up his feelings about anything and he feels he should have done that with you. At least.

Sam should have pestered you more about opening up. How he does with Dean, he should have done the same for you. He didnt and he feels ashamed.

“You know, I’ll make things easier for you” you break the silence and walk down the hall and into your room

“What do you mean make things easier for us?” Sam asks as he follows you down the hall

“Where the hell do you think your going?” Dean asks next following behind Sam

You grabbed what you could and what you thought was clean. At least it was warm clothing anything, it was beginning to get a bit nippy out there.

“Im leaving. That way I wont be such a burden to either of you anymore” you reply while walking back down the hall and up the round stairs

“Y/n, no. Stay here and we will help you” Sam pleads with you as he follows

“Y/N!! Stop” Dean raises his voice

“You arent a burden. Stay, so we can figure out how to help you and let us help you” Sam continues as he looks to you.

You are at the top of the stairs and finally with one final thought. You turned the door knob and walked out.

Dean runs up the stairs and tries to block you from going any where but he is too late. He ran out the door and you were gone. He yells for your name, looks around and continues to yell for you.

Nothing, it was as if you disappeared into thin air and he wondered where you went or what direction you took.

“Son of a bitch” Dean says as he looks around with both of hands behind his head.

Tears fill his eyes as a lone tear streams down his face. He falls to his knees, feeling defeated he let this happen. Defeated he let anything go this far and didnt notice anything to begin with.

Sam comes running to him and looks around as well.

“Sam, shes gone. I couldnt catch up to her. I let her go” Dean tries to keep his emotions together. But he releases a sob

“We’ll find her, someone has to see her and security cameras are every where and one of those ust of caught her” Sam says as he helps Dean to his feet.

Months went by, Dean and Sam never stopped searching for you. Drove from town to town, Dean always tracked better when he was on the road. But his leads always went cold. You knew better to go off track cause you knew he would track you.

Finally Dean’s phone begins to ring. He takes out his phone so fast and answered it like his life depended on it. In a way it did.

Dean talks on the phone for a long period of time and Sam is getting anxious. He doesnt what is going on or who is calling.

Finally Dean gets off the phone.

“Well who was that? What did they say? Say anything about y/n?” Sam asks way too quickly

Dean couldnt understand a word he said, all due to the phone call he just got and that shocked him more.

“That was Y/n’s doctor. She was admitted yesterday and he told me that they saved her from an overdose. That its their third time saving her from the overdose. Why they never called the first couple times was because she didnt list any family members as emergency contacts. Sam we got to go. We got to get our baby sister” Dean finally says and begins running to his room to begin packing.

Sam couldnt believe those words came out of Dean’s mouth. More like he couldnt believe you wouldnt add him or Dean as your emergency contact to begin with. Until now.

They drove for hours and hours.

As they stand at your door, they see you laying on your hospital bed, IV in one hand while the nasal cannula is inserted.

Your attention is brought to the door and you couldnt believe your brothers are standing right in front of you.

“Hi” you break the silence as the greeting came out a little raspy and small

Your brothers came further into the room.

Dean is the first one who hugs you.

“Hi, I missed you” as a tear streams down his face

He hold yous a little longer, feeling as though he is going to wake up and realize its all a dream and have to wake up to a bunker without you in it.

“I missed you so much” he says as he holds onto you a little longer and tighter.

He feels as though you were going to dissolve away if he let you go. Again

“What the hell happened?” he asks taking a seat by your bed side

“I chased and ended up here” you simply answer your brother.

Well you felt ashamed by answering him

“Your face” is all Dean could say

He sees the bruises on your face, the dark circles around your eyes and how sunken in your face is. He is thinking as if he is looking at your skull.

“Ooh, I owe money to my dealer and he made an example out of my face. A few times. So to medicate, I chased the high so much, that I practically chased myself in here” you reply to your brother and look around the room

“The only way for us to get you out of here is you go to treatment and get help. Dean and I were talking along the way and thats our ultimatums” Sam says while Dean looks to him in annoyance

Dean wanted some time with you before he sent you to treatment.

“Ok, ok. I will get the help. I will go to treatment, I wanna come home” you tell them as you begin to cry.

Sam is happy and hugs you. Tears stream down his face as a sigh of relief escapes his mouth

“Thats what I want, for you to come home and go get help. We want to be there for you. We love you” Dean says as he hugs you.

He felt relieved he heard those words coming out of your mouth, as if all of his stress has been removed and now he can finally settle his nerves. Kind of.

For them it was an eternity. Dean felt as though he was in hell all over again but this time felt longer.

Sam felt like he was in the cage all over again in trying to look for you. Or he felt as though he didnt have a soul. Having you around was better and you are Sam’s other half just like Dean is his other half.

When all three of you are together, its as though everyone feels complete but when separated, thats when everything crumbles.

You felt like you are getting your family back, after being away from your brothers for so long. Well more like after running from your problems and creating more. You really felt like you are getting them back and earning their trust.

You and your brother hunted like a family again. Better than ever.

#supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fic request #request #dean winchester #sam winchester #hunter family #family business #sister!winchester #reader insert #supernatural reader #spn reader #spn fic #spn fic request

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marvel--3000 · 3 years

Text

Mirage (5/???)

Summary: When 2 weird men show up at your job asking questions about you, you run, right into Hydras arms, you have no idea what they did to you in there, the Avengers help you figure it out.

*AU right after civil war, Steve, Bucky, and Tony are friends, and Pietro is still alive.*

A/N: this is my first thing I’ve ever written, soooo, some feedback would be appreciated, Hi I’ve been gone a couple years, and now I’m back, sorry….

I started writing this a long time ago, so the first chapters suck…. sorry

Pairing: Avengers x mutant!Reader

Warnings: some language, torture

Italics indicate that she is thinking to herself

~~~~~~~~~~

You dream of your life in the hydra base, everything is tinted red. You see flashes of faces, good and bad. You see yourself training with another mutant, you knock him to the ground and put him in a headlock. The scene changes, you see yourself strapped to a table, with the Trench Coat British guy smiling over you as you scream. It changes again, you see yourself crying in a ball, in the corner of your cell, trying to keep warm. It changes again, you see the goons kicking you on the floor, after your first escape attempt.

All of these memories scream through your head, until suddenly they come to a stop on one image. The man with the metal arm being shot in the back, because you can't reach him in time. You run to him as he falls. You catch him before he hits the ground, and lower him the rest of the way to the ground. You roll him over to look at his face, but when you roll him over, instead of his face being there, its Mr. British. You scream and try to push him off you, but he grabs you and pulls out a gun, he shoots you in the chest and laughs. You fall backwards, but instead of hitting the floor, you fall through it, into complete darkness. It feels like you fall forever.

You wake up screaming, clutching at the blankets. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out where you are. You see medical equipment, and hear a heart rate monitor beeping next to you. You remember, you're in the Avengers Compound, they saved you from Hydra. You relax into the bed and breath.

What time is it? You think, you look around again, now that you've calmed down. You see a huge window at the end of the room. Outside the window are trees, and a black sky, full of stars. So it's still night, how long was I asleep for? You sit up so you can see out the window better. You see a lake, and some lights below you. So I’m not on the ground floor, it's pretty here, quiet. You look away from the window and down at yourself, and notice that you aren't Natasha anymore, instead you’re a man, with hairy arms.

You gingerly try to spin your legs to the left, to dangle off the bed. It takes some effort, and a lot of pain, but you manage to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to slip off, so your feet touch the floor, then put a little pressure on them. Causing you to whimper in pain, but you push through it, as you've always done. You finally manage to stand on your own two legs, you look down to notice that your legs are hairy too, under the hospital gown. You also notice that there is a IV coming out of your hand, with a tube leading to a saline drip hooked on a metal rod on wheels.

You hold onto the rod for support, and take a step towards the window. But the heart rate monitor hooked to your finder stops you, you quickly pull it off, causing the monitor to have one long beeeeep, then power off. That will probably bite me in the ass later, but I need to see out the window. You slowly make your way to the window, each step a struggle. But you make it to the window, when you look out, you notice the trucks driving below you.

You look up and see the stars, they are beautiful tonight. Your eyes feel odd, so you close them, and rub them with the back of your hand, and when you open them again to look at the stars, suddenly you can see so many many more, you can see the sky as if we didn't have any pollution, or even an atmosphere. You can see the milky way, the whole galaxy. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Your eyes well up with tears, causing the stars to merge together, and yet, it's no less beautiful. You’re so busy looking up, you don't even notice that somebody else has entered the room.

“It's beautiful here isn't it?” Says a voice behind you. You squeak and whirl around, causing you to almost fall, and be in excruciating pain. The person rushes towards you trying to help, you look with anger in your eyes, ready to fight. But what you find is a concerned Dr. Banner, giving you the most confusing face. Your eyes soften, seeing that there is no immediate threat. You gain your balance, and stand on your own, shrugging off his hands, which you hadn't noticed before.

“It's not nice to scare people when they are zoned out.” You say in a fake scolding voice. But he just keeps looking at you with a weird face. “What's wrong Dr. Banner?”

“Hm? Oh, I'm just not used to walking into a room to find that I'm already in it.” He says with a little smile.

“What?” Is he a little crazy?

“Oh you don't know, you're not Nat anymore, now you're me. It's a little jarring. You can call me Bruce by the way.” He says looking you up and down.

“Oh! Sorry, when I dream I shift, and I must have shifted into you. Sorry.” you say then look at the floor in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry about, but how do you look exactly like me, you even have my birthmark on your knee.” he says with a puzzled look.

“Oh, when I see someone, I can copy their face, their size, and any other characteristic I can see. But in your case, when I touch someone, or they touch me, I can become a perfect duplicate of them, I think it has to do with DNA or something.”

“Oh. But I didn't touch you?” he said with a puzzled expression.

“When you put the needle in my arm you did. I can shift into someone else if you want?” you say shyly, talking about your powers is always weird.

“It's fine, as long as you're comfortable.” he quickly reassures you.

“Cool.” you think for a moment before asking, “What are you doing in here so late?”

“Oh that, um, I told Friday to alert me if you woke up, so you wouldn't be scared. On that note, you really should lay back down.” he says in a quiet tone.

“You did that for me?” Confused as to why he would want to do this for a stranger. You start making your way back to your bed, leaning on the pole.

“Well yeah, you are my patient.” he says walking next to you. Suddenly your left leg decides it's time for a nap, and you start falling with a yelp. Bruce catches you with surprising strength. How did he catch me so quick? He helps you back to your bed, and you lay back down.

“Thank you, I don't know what happened, my leg just quit working.”

“No harm done. Are you alright, any pain?” he asks sitting at the end of your bed.

“I mean the bullet wound in my chest hurts, but the weird part is, it should hurt more. How long has it been since I got shot?” you ask, looking him in the eyes. His eyes are a very nice deep brown, with some bright green near the iris. Odd.

“It's been 3 days, but your wounds are healing at an accelerated rate, it looks like you got shot 3 weeks ago. Is that part of your powers?” he asks leaning towards you

“No last time I checked!” you say starting to worry about what Hydra did to you there.

“Ok, we’ll figure out why, but right now, you should sleep. Steve and Tony are going to ask you questions in the morning,” he looks down at his watch, then back up to you, “if you sleep now, you should get about another 6 hours before they come back.” he says in a reassuring tone. I can see why he's a doctor, he's so kind.

“I don't know if I can go back to sleep, I didn't have the best dreams before.” you say looking down at your hands, they are large, and strong.

“I can give you something to help you sleep better if you like, but only if you're comfortable, I don't want you to have another panic attack.” he says looking at you with concern.

“Will it give me better dreams?” you ask in a small voice, meeting his gaze again.

“Yes, promise, as long as you promise me that you won't have another panic attack?” he asks while standing and walking to a nearby cabinet, and opening it up.

“I think I can manage that.” you say smiling at him. He turns back to you with a small needle, and a band aid in his hand. He walks towards you and says, “You should lean back, this stuff works quick.” he cleans the area he's about to put the needle in as you lean back. “I will be here in the morning when they ask their questions.”

“Thank you, and thank you for being so nice to me, even though you don't know me.” you say smiling. When he finishes he puts a teenage mutant ninja turtle band aid on your arm. “Really? Teenage mutant ninja turtles?” you ask with a small laugh.

“What? I thought it was appropriate.” he says with a large smile. “Now try and get some sleep, I will see you in the morning.” he says while walking to the door “Goodnight Bruce, thank you…” you say, your words starting to blend together. He was right about this acting quick…

“Goodnight.” Bruce says while turning out the lights, he turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him. He walks back to the elevator, taking it to the recreation floor, where the crew quarters are. He walks to his room, and sits on his bed.

“Friday, please alert me when our patient wakes up.” he says then crawls in bed to sleep as well.

“Yes sir.” Friday whispers from the ceiling.

Back in your room

You smile to yourself, Maybe this place isn't so bad, Bruce is nice, I hope they don't think I'm hydra, I hope I'm not hydra…… *Snore*

Time Skip,

You wake up slowly, groggy from the drug Bruce gave you last night. Your eyes are too tired to open n, but your mind starts to work. You feel something, something is wrong. Your eyes pop open and land on a very angry, very tall, very scary, redhead standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed, glaring at you.. Oh shit. Natasha Romanoff!

#marvel #avenger #mcu #tony #steve #bruce #mutant #mutant!reader #i hate tags #avengers x reader

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bltzgore · 3 years

Text

So I said I do some lab whump based on the prompt and it wound up being longer than I expected, but it was also actually less whump centered. So Imma give you guys the highlights!

Tw: lab whump, female whumpee (and a male whumpee), no comfort, death, gore, pain desc, mentions of euthanasia, needles

Intro:

82 breathes in and she breathes out, she is ready for this test. She's been working and fighting harder than anyone else. They're all weak compared to her, she made herself into what they want. A weapon. 82 breathes in and she breathes out. They'll trigger the start of it soon, any second. Her heart is trying to crack her rib cage, it's beating so hard. Is she afraid? No. Of course not. Fear has been trained out of her. She can not feel it anymore. No, what she feels now is exertion, what they have trained into her to replace the fear.

The door clicks then hisses open. Her mind sharpens. It's time to show them. Show them what she can do. Show them that she is worthy to be their next chosen. Because 82 wants it more than anyone. She is going to be the next subject chosen for the serum. She will be their next weapon!

82 breathes in and she breathes out, she runs into the room. There is another in there with her, she knows what they want her to do. She's done it before, many times in one way or another. She has to kill them.

82 doesn't recognize the other in the room with her. She wouldn't care if she did. It always ends like this, she used to it, she has to be. She looks towards her opponent, he's scared. She's amazed he's lived this long if he shows this much of it.

It doesn't take much, 82 is strong, she was bred for this. Born to fight and win. She lays him out in minutes.

He's on the ground in front of her. She broke his right leg, really high up, all he can do it try to drag himself away. But she can tell even the pain of doing that is too much for him. He stops and looks up at her, "Please! Please don't do this!" he begs. They always beg, it makes her sick. Take your death with strength, unless you want to be remembered as a sniveling coward. 82 just shakes her head and steps closer, "You tool! You're not even a person are you!?" he yells, his voice breaking with terror. "You're just their dog! You know that! Right? You'll just kill for them without asking why?" he sobs.

That's rude. She leans down, her eyes fixed on his. "Exactly." and then she lashes out. Her fists come crashing down over and over again, until his head has been reduced to a mess of gore scattered across the ground. 82 stands and looks down to where his eyes used to be, "I know why I'm killing." she sneers, before turning away.

A few minutes later a voice comes over the intercom, "Subject XPM84 - 82, your trial is complete. You have been selected by the committee for one of the five available stops in project hunter. Report to room 34 of wing D tomorrow to receive your first dose."

She did it! 82 calmly nods, before heading to the door that opened shortly after the scientist on the other side of the intercom stopped talking. She steps out into the hall, and she smiles. Yes! Yes yes yes yes! Finally!

________________________________________________________________

A discussion between 82 and her friend 63: "So you actually managed it?"

82 looked up at 63, he had the top bunk that night, "Yeah."

"Impressive." he muttered.

"You sound so happy for me." she snarked.

"I am." he insisted. "Just... you know with the trial runs and stuff, something always goes wrong." he answered

"Yeah, you're worried about me. Not jealous that I got picked first and you didn't get picked at all?" she asked, bluntly.

"No! I mean- ok, yes I wanted to be part of Hunter but this isn't about me! I didn't make the cut, you did. Project Hunter is a risk. What if something goes wrong and it kills you?"

She almost thought he was sincere, "Then I guess that's a spot opened right back up for you." she growled, turning over and away from him.

"82... I'm sorry. I'm happy you got it, you've wanted it so bad your whole life. You deserve it."

She didn't answer.

He sighed, "Goodnight 82."

________________________________________________________________

The first injection:

"Alright XPM84 - 82, please sit down here." the scientist gestured to the table. 82 swallowed and nodded, before doing as she was asked. The scientist turned and headed to the back of the room. She went to a very particular cabinet, scanned her hand on the access panel and retrieved a small vial of purple liquid. 82 could feel her heart speeding up, hear it beating heavy in her ears. She was... no! She wouldn't admit that. She was not scared of this, this was what she wanted ever since she knew it could be hers. A person could endure anything if they wanted it bad enough!

She tightened her hand into a fist, focusing on the muscle tensing then releasing. In her peripheral vision she watched the scientist filled a syringe from the vial a cleaned a spot on her arm. She felt the sharp bite as it pressed through her skin and stayed there. It was unpleasant, but nothing new. The scientist pulled the needle from her arm and held a cotton ball over it to stop the bleeding.

Once she was content with that she headed over to one of the numerous table cluttered with various advanced looking tech. She selected something in specific, and offered it to 82. "Put this on your right wrist and keep it on until you are told to do otherwise." she instructed.

82 nodded, clamping the metal cuff around her wrist. It was tight, she could feel prongs on the inside of it pressing almost into her skin. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. She was about to stand and head for the door when she noticed something off, the veins in her wrist were turning purple.

"Is this... normal?" she asked looking from her wrist to the scientist. She walked over and took 82's wrist to get a closer look, she didn't answer and instead called one of her colleagues over. 82's skin suddenly felt like it was burning! It was as if she was standing on a bonfire! 82 fell, grabbing hard on her wrist, trying to find something to do with the agony. She began shaking, and blood started to run from her mouth pooling on the floor. She arched her back as sharp shooting scraps of agony bit at her forearms and spine.

She was screaming, trying not to, but it felt like her body was trying to kill her. Something was wrong with her arm, it didn't feel like her arm! It felt like.... it felt like- she couldn't focus! The burning felt like it was turning into ripping, something was trying to tear her skin off from the inside! The room was whirling and swimming as she lost her grip on the messy water color of reality. It all blacked out, no fade to gray or gentle fall into unconsciousness, it was all snatched away, like someone had snapped their fingers by her ear and it was gone.

________________________________________________________________

82 tries to get answers and 12 warns her about her harsh reality:

A doctor made the rounds an hour later. When he discovered 82 was awake he asked her a few questions about how she was feeling, if she thought she could handle some food and water. 82 answered all the questions earnestly, then tried to ask a few, "Why am I in a cell? Did I try to hurt someone? Did the serum work wrong? It's just an adverse effect of the first dose right?" The doctor answered none of her questions and walked off, writing a few things down on his data tab. "82, right?"

She looked up towards the voice.

"They took 03 cause she was responding to the serum the right way, doesn't that make you wonder why they left us?"

She shook her head, "No. I'm fine, I'm ready for my next dose."

"They don't let you decide that now do they? What if you're not? You and I both know what they do to subject that don't adapt to their assigned project."

"I said I'm FINE!" She roared, slamming her fist and forearm into the bars that separated them. The bars shook! She had never been able to rattle steel before! She was getting stronger! She was still staring at her arm in amazement when all at once a dozen nails drove themselves into her skull. 82 fell to her knees, pressing her hands hard on the sides of her head. The nails took turns stabbing the inside of her brain to mush as she strained and preyed for it to stop. It felt like hours but the incident lasted almost a minute. When it all stopped she fell back, her head buzzing.

"Still sure you're fine?" 12 asked.

_______________________________________________________________

The second injection:

82 did not tell the scientists about this incident, as far as she was concerned it was unrelated. She was ready for the second dose, it would fix everything! It had to.

She stayed in the cell for this injection, it was administered through the bars. 82 waited for something to happen, as did the observing doctors. It was almost ten minutes later when her heart started to speed up, breathing got harder, then the familiar burning of her skin kicked back in. This time she did not pass out. It went for three long hours of hell, until the chemicals seemed to have passed through her system.

This incident left 82 on the floor, weakly trying to move. She needed to show them she was fine, she could handle the last dose, easy.

"It's a shame, XPM84 - 82 was our most promising candidate. But her symptoms are just like ZZ13 - 03's, meaning she's likely to follow the same course."

The other nodded, "We should get her in the que for euthanasia with the other two."

________________________________________________________________

82 and 12 run into 63 while attempting escape:

"63! Come on! We're breaking out, come with us." 82 ushered.

"You're breaking out?” he seemed struck dumb, "I-I thought you were in the que, why are you running away?" he asked, blocking her path.

"I'm not going to take my death laying down. I gave them all that I had and they're just going to get rid me of like I'm a broken pen!" she snapped, "We're all disposable to them, but I guess I didn't care about that when I thought I could be different." she hated herself for how easy that was to admit, how true she knew it was.

"No, 82 wait." he drew closer to her. 12 watched with an anxious expression.

"They weren't going to just get rid of you because the serum didn't work. It's because the serum is flawed."

She shifted her gaze, "What do you mean?"

"They're scrubbing the hunter project because of what happens after. There's a steady decline in quality of life..."

It felt like three bars of led had just been placed in her stomach.

"82, don't run. It's not going to end well. You should just-... just let them put you to sleep. It'll be painless." he had his hands on her shoulders now. He sounded so sincere, it made her sick.

82 tore away from his grip, the fury returning to her eyes, "The hell I will! I'll decide when my life is low enough quality to end it! I'm leaving! Stay out of our way and don't tell a soul about any of this, or I will find you, and I'll kill you." she snarled.

________________________________________________________________

The side effects:

"82, did you know that all the people out here have actual names? Ya know, like the scientists do, not numbers." 12 explained.

"Really?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Really! We need names." he decided. "I'll be... Sky." his gaze wistfully made its way up to his namesake. "I never want to be away from it again."

82 smiled, it was genuine and for once she didn't feel like a moron for making such a goofy expression. They were out. Screw what 63 said, any pain was worth it if it meant she got to live out here. Free.

Sky went to continue talking when he started coughing.

"You alright?" she asked, casually glancing over. Sky was doubled over with his hands on his stomach! "SKY!" she rushed to his side, trying to figure out what to do. Was he choking? Poisoned? He began to start spitting up blood, turning the dust below to mud. She watched in horror because it was all she could do. She had no medical training, and there was no where to find medicine for miles around. What was she supposed to do!

Sky started convulsing, falling onto his side and grabbing at the sand. He couldn't speak and blood was still pouring from his mouth. 82 tried to stop his thrashing, maybe comfort him, but when he stopped it was over. There was no pulse, and no breath.

82 couldn't speak, she was shaking. This was her future. She was going to cough up blood and die screaming and thrashing in pain! She looked down and shut her eyes, how could she have been so stupid!? Why hadn't she just stayed and let them end it gently!?

She stayed curled in on herself until the sun began to dip. She had been going over and over in her head about what to do. She could sit here and wait, she could go back.... no. She had fought to be out here, to see this world! And she was gonna do it! She was going to fight for every day she had, and if she died in agony so be it!

She stood up, not shaky, not hesitantly, but with strength and purpose. She turned her head towards the sky and yelled, "I DIE ON MY OWN DAMN TERMS, DO YOU HEAR ME!!!???" but even as she yelled her rebellion in the darkening sky, she felt anxiety tugging at the bottom of her stomach. It would become her companion for many years to come. Always there quietly nagging her about how things would end. Writhing and screaming.

#lab whump #whump #hyrbid #hybrid whumpee #whumpee #no comfort #tw death #tw needles #tw pain desc #highlight reel

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 3 years

Photo

Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 8

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Rosa/Marcia: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

Djinn: Hey, hey, don’t be so dramatic! You’re totally spoiling the mood! We gotta offer the people a good show after all!

Rosa/Marcia: HAAAAAAAAA? THIS SORT OF NONSENSE IS STARTING TO GET ON OUR NERVES!

Diana: Enough.

Rosa/Marcia: E-Eh! Di-Diana…

Diana: We’re wasting time here. Let us end it.

Vita: Indeed~ ‘Tis little jest has come to its conclusion.

Blanche: … That might be so, but-

Marcia: We’re trapped in this lamp until this guy lets us get out!! Have you forgotten about that already?! Huh?! Don’t just assume we can walk out of here freely!!

Rosa: Yeah!! We’d definitely have done that a long time ago if we could!! … right?

Vita: Fufufu~

Rosa: Hey… This might just be my impression… but…

Marcia: You’re laughing like you know something, aren’t you?

Vita: Hm~

Marcia: But there’s no way you knew how we could get out of this situation from the start, right? That’s just impossible, right? You wouldn’t make us go through all this, just so you could amuse yourself, right? Right?!

Vita: Mm~

Agatha: Ehehehehehehhehe…

Marcia: I’VE HAD IT WITH YOUUUUUUUUUUUU!! WHAT KIND OF MONSTER CAN ACTUALLY DO ALL OF THIIIIIIIIIIS?!

Blanche: Marcia. That’s enough. Yelling at Dies-senpai right now won’t accomplish anything, so let’s think of a way of escaping this place before it’s too late. And for that…

Diana: We’ll have to rely on Vita.

Vita: Indeed~

Marcia: … Might as well call it in.

Vita: How cruel~ Though I have been amused by this little escapade, I am afraid the novelty has worn off.

Marcia: … Haaa, you say that but I feel like you’re still playing a trick on us, you know? I’ve had my rope pulled at enough for today, so my heart can’t handle it anymore…

Blanche: That’s why I’m saying we need to stop fighting among ourselves and work together to resolve this situation.

Marcia: Mmmmm… but working together with Dies-senpai is…

Blanche: It’s… not an ideal situation, but we have no choice. Remember that even the Eight Witches would put their differences aside to come together upon the Bald Mountain. We must strive to follow in their footsteps.

Diana: Mm.

Vita: How very eloquently decreed, my dear hare~ Unity is such a wonderful concept after all~ Fufu~

Marcia: She’s lying.

Rosa: She’s definitely lying.

Agatha: Big… Sis… is… very… funny…

Rosa/Marcia: I knew it!!

Blanche: In… In any case… about our predicament… Dies-senpai…

Vita: Ah, that. Very well. I shall indulge you this once~ Say, little hare, what ‘tis that you know about the nature of our mysterious assailant?

Blanche: The characteristics of a djinn? That is rather difficult to tell. They are quite rare even in the Land of Hot Sands and the last sighting of one was during the age of the Sorcerer of the Desert. Though even that is considered a mere legend now…

Vita: One must not debase themselves so low as to forget that the consciousness of people is but a fragmentary existence. If you continue to reflect upon every whisper that comes your way, then you may as well become a worthless mollusk incapable of thought.

Blanche: … I see.

Vita: The world is a vast endeavour, my dear. And knowledge lies in every corner. One must simply seek to uncover it. The matter of the djinn at hand, for example. ‘Tis an interesting rumor I had once heard of a young man who found a young djinn lady astride his horse one night, riding the creature to exhaustion. To take revenge upon the spirit he inserted an iron needle into her sash which terrified her so greatly she was forced to listen to his commands. ‘Tis not a most fascinating story~?

Blanche: … Indeed. Your knowledge of such obscure matters is rather impressive, Dies-senpai.

Vita: I seek to humble after all~

Marcia: So… what you’re saying…

Vita: If we are to subjugate the creature by force, we shall be able to command it to release us~

Rosa: Su-Subjugate… That really sounds like Dies-senpai…

Marcia: WHAT A NICE PLAN! LET’S DO IT!

Rosa: EEEEEEEH?

Vita: I was certain you would appreciate the finer details, my dear~

Marcia: Hehehe… bring it under our command… Mm! I like the sound of that! Then we’d be able to escape without anybody having to marry… and even after… hehehehe

Rosa: Geh! You have an evil glint in your eye right now! You’re planning something, aren’t you?! After all that happened today!!

Marcia: Haaaa? What’s wrong with looking at the positive side, huh?! If I don’t dream big my heart will stop beating!

Rosa: What a lie!! I don’t believe a single word you say!! You opportunist!

Marcia: HUH?! WELL, YOU’RE-

Cass: U-U-U-Um!

Blanche: Cassandra? Is something wrong?

Cass: N-No! I-I-I-I mean, um… On the matter of su-su-subjugation, um…

Blanche: Ah, it’s unfortunate, but it seems we have no other choice. I know it might be bothersome to you, so we won’t force you into it.

Vita: What a wonderful sentiment~

Agatha: My… heart… is… bursting… with… compassion… ehehehheheheheheh

Blanche: …

Vita: Indeed~ Yet, are you overlooking a simple matter, my dear?

Blanche: Overlooking… what do you- Ah.

Rosa: Hm? What? What’s going on? What’s this about overlooking? Hey, don’t leave me in the dark!! Hey!! Hey!!

Diana: We are lacking our claws.

Rosa: … Eh?

Vita: Though one is eager to brandish a weapon, they must make certain to possess it first~

Rosa: … Ha?

Cass: U-U-Um, it’s the ne-needle, Miss Mo-Morgainne…

Rosa: Hm? What about it? Won’t it work after all?!

Agatha: How… nice… it… must… be… to… lack… any… brains… hehehehehe

Rosa: GRRRRRRRRR!!! AAAAH, THIS IS REALLY GETTING ON MY-

Marcia: If it’s the needle then it’s no problem!

Cass: E-Eh?! Re-Re-Really?!

Marcia: Yup, yup~ After all, Blanche always carries some with he- MHHGJHGJHJKH!!

Rosa: A-AMAZING! I’ve never seen Blanche move so fast in my entire life!!

Diana: Rabbits are good runners.

Rosa: Th-That’s true…

Marcia: MKHHJKJMHHJH- GAH! WHAT’S THE DEAL, BLANCHE, HUH?! JUST WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO MAKE A GOOD POINT TOO!

Agatha: Those… are… rare… hehehehehehehe…

Blanche: … You should think before you talk about other people, Marcia.

Marcia: HAAAAAAA? SO YOU’RE OK WITH STAYING HERE FOREVER JUST CAUSE YOU’RE EMBARRASSED BY SUCH A LITTLE THING?! GRRRR! NOW YOU’RE SERIOUSLY MAKING ME MAD!

Blanche: He-Hey!! Wait!! Get your hands out of there!! Marcia-

Marcia: A-HA!

Blanche: !!!

Cass: U-U-U-U-Um… is that…

Diana: A needle.

Marcia: Hehe, you’ve got a nice eye there, Diana! That’s right! It’s a needle! Made out of pure iron too, I bet!

Agatha: To… think… the… hopping... chowder… had… it… all… along… hehehehehe…

Rosa: Yeah!! What’s the deal with that, Blanche?! Why didn’t you want Marcia to tell us about this?! Or rather why didn’t you come forward with it from the start?! Huh?!

Blanche:... Personal matters aren’t to be put on show like this.

Rosa: Eh?! Personal matters?! Eh?! I don’t get it!! I don’t get it at all!! It’s a needle, isn’t it?! It’s just a needle, so why-

Marcia: Haaaa, it’s always like this.

Rosa: Huh? What are you talking about?

Marcia: Even when you helped me fix that tear in my sweater back then, you still acted like it was some super confidential secret. It freaked me out, you know? Can’t you just be a little bit more honest? It’s not like this sort of thing matters. Being able to sew isn’t such a big deal…

Rosa: HA?! THAT WAS THE SECRET?! WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THAT?!

Marcia: I know, I know~ It frustrates me too.

Blanche: … Maybe so. But I do have a question. Marcia.

Marcia: Hm?

Blanche: How did you know I would have a needle in my pouch?

Marcia: Hm? That’s where you keep your sewing kit, right? Where else would it be since… urk…

Rosa: Hey… How did you know she has a sewing kit in her pouch?

Marcia: Hu-Huh?! That? Uh, o-obviously I saw her pull it out when she used it to fix my sweater! Ye-Yeah!

Blanche: I did not bring out my sewing kit back then, however. For you to see it… The only explanation is…

Rosa: …

Cass: U-Um…

Diana: …

Agatha: Hehehehe…

Vita: My, my~

Marcia: Wh-What’s with those looks you’re giving me?! I didn’t do anything bad! I swear! You gotta trust me!! Hey!! You guys!!

Rosa: Aah, Marcia’s being scummy again…

Marcia: HEY!

Blanche: Going through another girl’s pouch is a regulation offence. You know this, don’t you?

Marcia: I’m telling you that I didn’t do anything wrong!! Aaaah!! You’re being super annoying right now!! I was just looking for a band aid, that’s all!! Got it?! Just a band aid!!

Blanche: … Is that so?

Marcia: It is!! Grrr!! I was coming from practice to our tutoring session, when I saw I hurt my knee!! You were out to get something from the cafeteria and since I knew you’re the responsible kind, I figured out you’d have some band aids in your pouch!! And by the time you came back, I was so hungry I forgot to mention it!! That’s it!! That’s the whole thing!!

Blanche: I… I see.

Rosa: … Hm.

Marcia: What?!

Rosa: I was wondering how an idiot like you was able to pass classes with such high grades, and even make it to Prefect. Now it makes sense. It was all thanks to Blanche’s hard work, wasn’t it?

Marcia: … Having a moron like you say that to me really annoys me, Rosalia.

Rosa: MO-MORON?!

Marcia: I don’t get why you’re so high and mighty when your grades are just as low as mine. It’s kinda laughable. Aren’t you ashamed of your own lack of performance?

Rosa: Th-That… Uh!

Marcia: At least I’m doing what I can to keep them high. So having somebody diss me like this, puts me in a bad mood. You know, I think I actually had it.

Rosa: Hu-Huh? Had it… Marcia, what…

Marcia: You can be as snide as you want, but I’ll show you that I’m not just a leech. I have my pride too. There have been many times when I had to go against my instincts, but the goal I want to reach can’t be touched by those without a steely resolve. But I doubt somebody with an easy life like you could understand…

Rosa: Ma-Marcia…

Marcia: So watch closely, ok? I’ll show you how Marcia Pyroeis won’t sully her name by tucking her tail in and running away. I’ll confront the Djinn and get us all out! I swear this!

Rosa: MARCIAAAAAAA! I’M SORRY! TO THINK THAT YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN THIS COOL! I MISJUDGED YOU! I TOTALLY MISJUDGED YOU!

Marcia: Heh. That’s alright. I’m not the kind of person to hold a grudge. Now, stand back. It might get dangerous.

Rosa: MARCIAAAAAAAAA!!!

Cass: Mi-Miss Pyroeis!

Blanche: … Marcia.

Marcia: Hm. What is it, Blanche? You can’t change my mind, so don’t even try it. I’ve already chosen my path and nothing-

Blanche: You know that if you subjugate the Djinn you can only ask for one favour, right? So your plans of getting rich quick…

Marcia: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! ISN’T THAT MESSED UP? THEN WHY AM I PUTTING UP THIS SHOW FOR, HUH?!

Cass: … Um…

Marcia: Haaaa, and here I thought that if I went first, I’d get to bag two birds really easy. Crap. Gotta rethink my plan.

Rosa: … To think that I ever looked up to you. I was a moron. A real idiot.

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Morgainne! Ple-Please have a tissue to dry yo-your tears!

Marcia: Geh. If there’s no money to be made out of this, then I’m out. Blanche, you can have a go with the ne-

Diana: Marcia. Behind you.

Marcia: Huh? Behin-

Djinn: Hm? So it’s you first, girlie?

Marcia: ARGH! DON’T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THIS!

Djinn: I was sure you wouldn’t be interested after all the fuss you made earlier, but…

Marcia: E-Eh? No, no, no, no, no,! You’re mistaken, I’m just-

Djinn: Who am I to deny you a chance for redemption? LET THE ROUND STAAAAAAAART!

Marcia: HEEEEEEY!! WAAAAAAAIT!

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#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twist #twist oc #twisute oc #twisute #walpurga nacht academy #djinn's bride #djinn's bride event #marcia pyroeis #blanche dion #rosalia morgainne #cassandra delphinne #agatha voisin #vita dies #diana arrow

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leedongwook · 4 years

Text

Prompt: 4 times people thought TK and Carlos are dating and 1 time they really did. ❤️

TK can’t for the love of god not find his new aftershave. He looks in his room and the drawer in the hall way, it’s not there. He’s back at the bathroom again and going through the cabinet for the third time, but he can’t find it.

He sighs.

„Dad, have you seen my aftershave?“

TK gets no reply.

„DAD!“

There’s noises coming from downstairs.

“What?“

TK rolls his eyes and sticks his head into the hall way.

“Have you seen my aftershave?“

TK can hear his dad move around in the living room.

“Is it not in the bathroom cabinet?“

TK frowns.

“No, I’m just looking at it now, it’s not there.“

Silence.

TK looks at himself in the mirror and fixes his hair. Well then he needs to get a new one after work. He puts his shirt on.

“Wait, I think it put in the drawer under the bathroom sink.“

TK crouches down in front of the sink and opens the bottom drawer. There’s hair gel and razor blades and the new aftershave.

TK laughs. Why did his dad put it down there.

“Right, got it thanks!“

He opens to box and gets the aftershave out. He opens the lid and smells on it. It’s a new one. Carlos had told him about it and how he liked the smell of it and TK wanted to try it out.

He puts some of it in his hands and rubs it against his face. It stings on his neck and TK notices he’s got a little cut there. He dabs a tissue against it.

He looks at the clock again to check the time when he hears the door bell ring.

TK walks into to his room to grab his jacket, wallet and keys.

When he makes it downstairs his dad is already opening the door.

“Officer Reyes?“

Carlos smiles but waits outside of the door.

“Good evening Captain Strand. I’m here to pick up TK and please call me Carlos. I’m not on duty.“

Captain Strand nods.

“It’s Owen then.“

TK quickly walks over and stops next to his father.

He smiles at Carlos.

“Hi, sorry I’m a bit late.“

Carlos shakes his head.

“It’s fine.“

TK starts to move when he hears his dad speak again.

“Wait, are you taking my son out for a date?“

Captain Strand looks questioning from Carlos to his son. Carlos blushes and TK’s eyes grow wide.

“Dad! No it’s not a date. We‘re just hanging out at the pub togehter.“

His father laughs.

“Mhhhhhmm right.“

He gently nudges his sons shoulder. TK rolls his eyes. He feels freaking awkward and just wants to leave.

“Right, shall we?“

Carlos points over to his car and TK jumps into action without looking at his father again.

“TK.“ Owen laughs. “Have fun.“

He sees his father winking at him and TK’s face turns red. He rolls his eyes at his dad again and gets in the car without saying anything.

TK’s chilling on the couch in the fire station. His shift is going to end in about 10 minutes and he can’t wait to get off.

“Hey little bro, what you up to?“ Judd is leaning over the couch, squeezing his shoulders.

Paul walks over from the kitchen and sits down next to him.

“Nothing, just chilling. Shift‘s over in 10 and Carlos is gonna pick me up. He’s cooking tonight.“

“Oh look, Carlos is cooking tonight.“ Paul laughs and bumps his fist against TK’s shoulder.

Judd throws his arms around him from behind.

“What’s going on there? Got yourself a piece of that hot officer TK?“

TK shoves his arms away. “What? No.“

“We just noticed that you guys hang around each other a lot. You dating or something?“

TK turns around to face Judd.

“We’re not dating, we’re just friends.“

Paul reaches over and pokes TK in his side.

“Oh it’s like that.“

TK frowns.

“Seriously guys we’re not dating.“

Paul grins and Judd pokes his cheek.

“God, you’re like children, you two.“

TK pats their hands away.

“TK you there?“

Carlos walks into the fire station. Paul and Judd are still laughing and TK looks annoyed at them.

“What’s going on?“

Carlos looks confused at the three of them.

“Nothing, they’re just idots.“ TK huffs.

“You ok with fish today and I’ve got this new bread recipe, which fits perfect to the fish.“

TK gets up from the couch grabbing his bag. Judd walks around the couch and before TK can walk over to Carlos he ruffles through his hair and grins.

“Enjoy dinner kiddo.“ He looks over to Carlos. “You be good to my little bro or we might have to have a conversation.“

Carlos scratches his head and looks confused. “Right.“

“Oh god this is so embarrassing guys.“

TK rolls his eyes and walks over to Carlos, grabs him by the shoulder to move. He can still hear the boys laugh when they make their way out of the fire station.

“How’s buttercup doing? Michelle told me you’ve got a fire station dog now.“

Carlos takes a sip of his coffee and looks at TK with a smile.

“Yeah my dad thought it was a good idea. He’s ill like him, lung cancer but he gets treatment.“

Carlos frowns.

“Oh, you ok with that?“

He gently puts his hand on TK’s arm.

“I wasn’t at first because you know … but he’s too adorable and I just love dogs.“

Carlos softly rubs his arm before he takes his coffee and takes another sip.

“You had a dog before?“ The other man ask.

TK shakes his head.

“No I’ve always wanted one but living in a high apartment with no garden my dad thought it wouldn’t be a good idea.“

Carlos nods.

“Yeah makes sense. My auntie Tia had this cute little pug and I loved chasing around with him when I was a kid.“

“Cute.“ TK laughs.

He gets distracted for a bit when he sees the door of the coffee shop opening and Marjan walking in.

She doesn’t notice the two men though and walks over to get some coffee.

“TK?“

He can feel Carlos tap at his arm.

“Yeah?“

“I asked if you wanna try out the new restaurant in town on the weekend?“

They get interupted by a waving Marjan walking over to them quickly.

“TK! Carlos!“

She puts her coffee to go on the table and sits down next to TK.

“I’m not interrupting a date, am I.“

She laughs.

“What no we’re not on a date.“ TK blurts out almost choking on his coffee.

“Oh right, well you should though, date I mean, you two look really cute together.“

TK’s face turns bright red and he coughs awkwardly. Carlos just laughs but avoids to look at TK.

Marjan reaches over the table and takes a bite from TK’s cake.

“Anyway, you two coming for my birthday party on Saturday? Big family meet up and since you’re my family too, I’d love to have you there.“

Her eyes sparkle and she’s got a big smile on her face.

Both men nod in agreement.

“Nice! Alright, gotta head to work now, shift’s starting in 20. See ya there kid!“

She gets up and gently bumps against TK’s shoulder.

He watches her leave the coffee shop when Carlos grins at him.

“She’s right though.“

TK rises his eyebrow. “About what?“

“You are really cute.“

TK chuckles and shakes his head. “Oh shut up, I’m not.“

Carlos laughs out loud and takes a swipe of the cream on TK’s cake and puts it on the other man’s nose.

“Yeah you are.“

“Ahhhh TK, wait up I’ve got a cramp.“

TK stops and looks at his watch. He still has to run 30 more minutes to finish his task for today. He looks back though and sees Carlos leaning against a tree. He walks over to where the other man’s standing. Carlos breaths hard and TK grabs his water bottle and hands it over to him. Carlos takes a sip of the water. TK sees him wince out in pain when he puts his foot back on the ground.

“Damn the cramp won’t stop.“ Carlos looks annoyed.

“Let’s get you over to that bench.“

TK puts the other man’s arms over his shoulder and helps him over to one of the benches on the side.

“Sorry, I’m interrupting your running cycle.“

Carlos looks sorry and sits down carefully.

“Nah, don’t worry about that.“

TK smiles and lifts up Carlos leg to put it on his lap. He shoves the material of the other man’s running pants up to his knee.

“Does it hurt here?“

He presses his fingers on the inside of Carlos calf and the other man yells out in pain.

“Fuck.“

TK keeps on massaging the leg and Carlos relaxes after some minutes.

“Better?“

Carlos leans back and nods.

“Thanks.“

He wants to move his leg off TK’s lap when the other man grabs it and holds in place.

“No, wait let it rest for a bit before you walk again.“

“Look who‘s having a running date.“

TK looks up and Mateo is suddenly standing in front of them, legs still moving on the same spot.

Carlos looks confused.

“We’re not on a date? We just went out on a run together.“

Mateo looks from Carlos to TK.

“Damn, that means I won’t win the money pot.“

TK looks at Mateo with questioning eyes.

“What money pot?“

“We were betting on you two dating or not.“ Mateo chuckles.

“Who was betting?“ TK asks.

“Ask Judd.“ Matteo giggles and runs off.

TK looks back at Carlos shaking his head.

“Maybe we should put some money in the pott as well and win?“

Carlos puts his leg back on the floor and gets up.

TK blinks confused. “Huh?“

Carlos laughs. “And go on a date?“

TK blushes and runs his hand through his hair. “Oh.“

“Anyway, think about it but now get your arse up, we need to finish your running cycle or are you tired Strand?“

TK gets up blowing out a breath.

“You old man needed a break not me.“

Carlos chuckles again.

“Well go and catch the old man then.“

TK sees Carlos run off. He shakes his head but smiles and runs after him.

+ 1 time TK and Carlos are actually going out on a date

TK hears the door bell ring and quickly opens it.

“Thank god you’re here I need your help.“

The young man grabs Grace by the arm and drags her into the house.

“Where’s the fire.“ Grace laughs.

TK holds a shirt in front oft he woman‘s face. She eyes it up and looks questioning at the younger man.

“Two buttons are gone and I can’t get sew them on. Dad’s not here and I have a date in 20 minutes. Can you please help me.“

“Oh I see.“ Grace takes the shirt out of his hands. “You got a needle and some yarn?“

TK walks over to the kitchen and comes back with a sewing kit.

Grace sits down and gets to work. TK sits down next to her, fidgeting nervously around with the ring on his finger.

“You ok kid?“

TK looks up.

“I haven’t been on a date for ages and I just really don’t wanna ruin it.“

Grace skillful weaves the needle in and out and the first button is back on the shirt.

“Not to be too nosy and you obviously don’t have to tell me but who you going out with?“

TK stops moving and his face softens.

„Carlos.“

Grace‘s face lights up.

“He’s a good one.“

“Yeah I know that’s why I’m scared and I don’t wanna screw it up and last time I was on a date it didn’t go well. And I don’t know maybe I get this all wrong and- …“

TK’s breathing quickens up and he feels himself slipping into a slight panic.

Grace puts the needle and shirt away and gently takes his hands in her own.

“Hey take a breath. It’s gonna be fine. I can with a certainty say that Carlos really likes you. You can’t screw this up kid. Just be yourfself, that’s all that matters.“

The older woman‘s hands help him to calm down and he takes a deep breath.

“Thanks Grace. I’ll remember that.“

Grace nods and goes back to work to sew on the last missing button.

“Take it slow and you don’t have to go any further if you don’t want to. Carlos is a good kid, he’ll understand.“

TK scratches at his head.

“Actually we already did that?“

He blushes.

“Oh. Ohhhhhh“ Grace looks baffled but smiles. “I don’t blame you. He looks good but don’t tell Judd I said that.“

TK laughs.

“Right, this is done.“

Grace hands the shirt over to TK who immediately changes his clothes. He walks over to the hallway mirror to have a last quick check over his outfit.

“You look nice. The color suits your eyes.“

The door bell rings and TK grabs his jacket and keys. Grace follows him to the door. Carlos is waiting at his car and waves at them from the street.

TK closes the door behind him and Grace. He hugs her.

“Thank you for this and you know - …“

Grace puts a kiss on his cheek and softly rubs his back.

“It’s nothing kid. Go and enjoy your date. It‘ll be all good.“

TK smiles and squeezes her hand before he walks down the stairs over to a waiting Carlos.

“You look good TK.“ Carlos hugs him quick. “Is that Grace over there?“

TK looks back at where Grace is waving at them. “Yeah, my saving angel.“

“That she is.“ Carlos agrees.

Carlos holds out his hand waiting for TK to take it.

“Ready for a nice date, Tyler Kennedy Strand?!.“

TK chuckles and his faces lights up. He takes Carlos hand and it feels good. All nervousness gone.

“I’m ready.“

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #tarlos fanfiction #911 lone star fanfiction #haleys fics #my fics #my writing

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Four

The espionage boys go to Slytherin. Chaos ensues.

Content Warning: Some violence towards the end.

@lumosinlove

Clandestine Masterlist

Finn reached over the center console of the car to grab some M&Ms from the bag in Logan’s lap. Logan slapped his hand away playfully, not taking his eyes off the Slytherin police station they were parked down the road from. “Why don’t you eat your own snacks?”

“They’re salty and I wanted something sweet.” Finn said with a shrug, popping one of the candies into his mouth and grinning.

Leo sighed from the backseat, letting his head rest against the window with a thunk. He stared out at the full moon as a lonely cloud passed in front of it, moving fast. It was the most interesting thing he’d seen all night. “Why didn’t y’all tell me stakeouts were so boring? This is horrible.”

“But we’ve learned so much already!”

Finn got an arched blond eyebrow in response. “Have we?”

“We’re downtown, so we’re going to have to be extra careful about being seen. Shift change is at 6 pm, so we need to avoid that time frame as much as we can. There’s fewer people on the night shift, so our best bet is to wait until nighttime.” Logan rattled off, still not looking away from the building. “There’s a side door on the west side of the building, so that’ll be your best bet when you need to break in. I can see at least one security camera there, so Loops is going to need to help you out.”

Finn motioned to Logan dramatically. “That’s how you do it, Peanut Butter. Take notes.”

“I had lots of practice, keeping an eye out while you guys were off being bank robbers.” Logan grumbled good-naturedly, grabbing an M&M for himself.

Finn hummed thoughtfully. “Robbers is a bad way of putting it, don’t you think? You make us sound so evil.”

“I mean, you’re also technically an arsonist.”

“That was one time. And the other bank heist went off without a hitch.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact that you set a trash can on fire.” Leo piped up, giving Logan a high-five when he held his hand out.

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Nut.”

Leo really tried his best not to read into that statement. He grabbed the small lock in his pocket and fidgeted with the dial to distract himself. He didn’t mean it like Leo thought he did. Like he wanted him to. Besides, that would be so complicated, wouldn’t it? Being a spy was messy in and of itself. Dating two other spies - who were his partners - would be a whole other level of chaos.

But that didn’t make him want it any less.

Which was also ridiculous. He’d known them for, what? Maybe a month? Why did his heart always decide to move at such breakneck speeds?

“Do you two have to always gang up on me?” Finn asked with a sigh, snapping Leo back out of his thoughts. “What did I ever do to deserve it?”

“Don’t take it personal, O’Hara. You’re just so fun to tease.” Finn threw a barbecue-flavored chip at Logan, causing him to laugh and eat it.

“How long do stakeouts usually last?” Leo asked, desperate to change the subject to something - anything - less hazardous for his heart.

“Until we have all the information we need.”

“And how do we know when that is?”

Logan shrugged. “Depends on the case. I’d like to stay and see when the next shift change is, just to be safe.”

Leo groaned and settled back in to wait.

***

“So how are we doing this?” Finn asked the next morning as they all sat around the table in the briefing room, propping his chin in his hand. “Sneak Leo in through an air vent? Although you might be too tall for that, Nut. Blow a hole in the wall and steal the whole safe? Create a story like the bank heists?”

“It’ll have to be a distraction again.” Sirius said, looking to Loops for confirmation. “The longer we can fly under Riddle’s radar, the better. The other four drives are on Riddle, in his office, or with trusted gang members. If he starts getting suspicious now, he’ll go on lockdown and we don’t stand a chance at getting the rest of the drives.”

“He’s right.” Remus agreed. “Plus there’s way too many officers in the precinct at any given time. Since the safe is in the evidence room, we can’t risk anyone coming in there and catching Leo red-handed – they’d shoot you on sight, no questions asked.”

Logan watched the color drain from Leo’s face and turned to send Remus a glare. Of course this job was risky – if you didn’t think so, you were a naïve idiot. Getting caught or shot or killed was just a part of the job and as a spy, you had to learn to live with that. But that didn’t mean you had to scare rookies about it right before a big, high-risk mission.

Remus noticed his glare, but simply ignored it and looked away. “Here’s what I’m thinking. There’s another, smaller gang in Slytherin, right?” At Sirius’ nod, he continued. “If we can place an anonymous tip on their location, that all but guarantees a full holding cell inside the precinct. Plus it gets another gang off the streets, so it’s a win-win. Logan, if you can get yourself arrested for something small – public indecency or drunken disorderly or something – you’ll be put in that holding cell too.”

Logan leaned forwards, excitement coursing through him. “I like where this is going.”

“I don’t.” Finn stated plainly. It was his turn to glare at Loops.

“If you can start a fight in there, you can get a majority of the officers’ attentions. Especially if it’s at night when the staff is smaller and more likely to be tired. Leo can slip in the side door unnoticed, get into the evidence room, grab the flash drive, and get out.” Remus raked a hand through his hair, looking thoughtful. “It’s more complicated than the banks, but it should work just fine.”

“That’s the plan?” Leo asked dubiously. “Try to start a riot in a holding cell, hope that all the officers get distracted, steal the flash drive, and then just wait for Logan to be released in the morning? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

He was right - there was a lot riding on nothing but chance. Sadly, that was part of the territory of working in espionage; it was one of the only things the James Bond movies got right. You had to take risks in order to get results sometimes. Leo’s job was all about planning and precision. He knew exactly how to execute his mission and there usually weren’t any hiccups as long as he had the right tools with him and enough time. Not much risk-taking involved in cracking safes. So he’d probably never been a part of a plan with so many aspects up in the air.

He’d also never seen Logan in action.

“Never doubt my ability to start a fight.” Logan said with a grin. “Man, I’m so excited to go on a mission where I’m not stuck in the car.”

“I want to go with you.” Finn said firmly, leaving no room for argument. His gaze was fierce and determined and if Logan didn’t know him already, he’d probably be just a little bit scared. It was kind of hot. “I don’t like you being in there by yourself.”

Remus looked at him, clearly surprised. “I thought you didn’t like fights.”

“I don’t. But I’m not leaving my partner in there to fend for himself. Hell no.”

Logan ignored the way his heart sped up and asked, “You don’t want to go with Leo? Be a lookout?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but if someone does end up seeing him, one person raises less suspicion than two.” Finn said with a shrug. “It’ll also be easier to start a fight with two people.”

“If you’re getting arrested in Slytherin, you’ll need disguises.” Remus said, looking the cubs over. “They’ll take mugshots of you at the station. We can’t risk it.”

“Ok, so who do we go to for that?”

“Ooh!” Leo piped up with a happy, unfairly adorable smile. “I actually know this one!”

***

When they entered the disguise office the following day a woman with long, blonde hair looked up at them from a rapidly moving sewing machine. Finn feared for her fingers as they inched closer to the bobbing needle, but she barely batted an eye as she took her foot off the pedal and smiled in delight when she spotted Leo. “Nutty! How’s it going?”

Leo smiled back and gave her a warm hug. He looked like he gave good hugs, Finn thought. All tall and long-limbed like that. “Hey, Nat. Good to see you.”

“Kasey told me you’re on a mission. Look at you, all official and taking down the Snakes!” She stood on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “So grown up!”

“Stop.” Leo laughed, taking a step back and dodging her hand. “Y’all treat me like I’m twelve.” He seemed to remember Logan and Finn were with him and his cheeks turned red as he looked over at them. “Uh, guys this is Natalie. Nat, these are my partners Finn and Logan.”

“Nice to meet you boys.” She said, shaking both their hands. “So you’re here for disguises?”

Finn nodded, then started explaining the premise of their op, watching Natalie a bit nervously as she looked him over thoroughly. It was a bit unnerving, even when he knew it was just to get a good idea of what she needed to do for a disguise. Her gaze was calculating, like she could figure out everything about them with a single look.

Maybe she could.

Finally, she spoke up. “We’ll have to change that hair. How do you feel about wash-out hair dye? Normally I’d just give you a wig, but if you’re getting in a fight it could get pulled off. And you.” She turned to Logan, taking a second to look him over. “I have so many ideas for you. I have a feeling you’re going to love it. Oh, and Nut?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got a cop uniform that should fit you.”

He bit back disappointment. Finn was dyeing his hair, (which was a bit of a tragedy, really – Leo thought his hair was really pretty, especially out in the sun) Logan was doing who knows what, and all Leo got was a uniform? “Oh. Ok.” He looked over at his partners. “I’ll meet you back in the bullpen?”

“Sounds good.” Logan responded. As soon as Leo closed the door behind him, Natalie faced Logan again with a wicked smile.

“How do you feel about tattoos?”

***

Logan and Finn found Leo having a staring contest with a small, god-awful painted eagle paperweight on Finn’s desk.

“I see you’ve met Brad!” Finn said happily, giving the eagle a pat on the head and startling Leo in the process. He seemed to jump a foot in the air before he realized Finn wasn’t a threat.

“I’m pretty sure it’s haunted.” Leo said, looking away from it slowly. Those beady little eyes seemed like they were staring into his soul and finding it wanting. “I’m from New Orleans, I can tell- holy shit.” He said when he caught sight of his partners.

Finn’s hair was dark brown, his freckles tragically hidden from view. Natalie had also done some makeup magic to accentuate different lines of his face, changing his profile and making him barely recognizable. Logan’s hair was now a dirty blonde. Both of his arms and one collarbone were littered with dark, swooping ink in varying different shapes and patterns. They were both wearing more casual clothes than Leo had ever seen them in, looking soft and comfy instead of like polished, professional spies.

“If I wasn’t expecting it, I’m not sure I could recognize you.” Leo said slowly, trying to get his brain back up and running as he gently grabbed one of Logan’s arms and turned it this way and that, looking at the tattoos in awe. They looked so real.

Logan grinned. “Yeah, Nat’s a pro.” He followed Leo’s gaze down at his fake tattoos wistfully. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a spy, just so I could get tattoos.” He couldn’t have anything about him be easy to recognize as a covert operative – it would make him too easy to track down and get compromised. Tattoos unfortunately fell into that category. His eyes landed on the eagle paperweight Leo was staring down earlier. He laughed. “O’Hara, what the fuck is that?”

“It’s Brad! My brother is a spy, too – works out of Tampa. When I joined, we created this competition: whoever brought in the most criminals in a year got to keep Brad on their desk.” Finn preened, looking fondly at the creepy eagle. “Yours truly has the honor this year.”

Leo glared at it mistrustfully. “That thing needs to be burned. Or I could smoke it out with sage for you. I’ve got some from Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo back home. That’ll get rid of the spirit for sure.”

Finn gasped in horror. “How dare you? Brad is a treasure and deserves to be protected at all costs.”

“I strongly disagree.”

“It is not haunted, it’s a symbol of being a winner-”

“As much as I’m loving this conversation,” Logan interrupted, looking amusedly between his partners. “We should probably get going if we want to get to Slytherin in time. Loops already placed the anonymous tip about the other gang, so we’re all set. Ready?”

“Ready.” Finn echoed, giving Brad one last loving pat for good luck before heading towards the door, Logan by his side. Leo picked up his pace to walk alongside the other two.

“Please don’t make me sit in the backseat again.”

“But you’re the rookie.”

“I’m also the tallest. You try being stuck with your knees to your chest for a several hour road trip. Not fun.”

***

Finn laughed as Logan stumbled during their “drunken meandering” in the park near the Slytherin precinct and threw an arm around his shoulder. He spotted a uniformed officer talking on his phone a few yards away, apparently on break. He knew Leo was also out there somewhere, keeping tabs on them and relaying information to Sirius and Loops. Since Finn and Logan were getting arrested, they didn’t want to be caught with mics and earpieces on them. That would really raise suspicions and get their cover blown for sure. So Leo was keeping an eye on them now and Loops would do the same via the security cameras once they were both inside the precinct.

“There’s an officer to our left.” Finn said, leaning close to Logan to murmur into his ear and knocking their heads clumsily together. He could just barely see the curve of Logan’s smile from that vantage point, almost taunting him with how easy it would be to press a kiss there. Just a slight movement of his chin and he could do it. Refraining took all of Finn’s willpower.

He moved away. “Now all we need to do is get his attention and get ourselves arrested.”

Logan leaned in close and eliminated all the space Finn had just put between them, green eyes bright and mischievous and luminous under the artificial light of a nearby streetlamp. “I’ve got an idea.”

Finn simply stared. “Huh?”

“You know how I hate the police?” The brunet-turned-blond asked, grabbing Finn’s hands and walking backwards. Finn followed the siren’s call without hesitation. If he crashed into the rocks and sank because of him – well. Drowning would be worth it.

He had to urge his brain to focus and vaguely remembered that conversation from New Year’s and the rant about abuse of power that came with it. Even drunk off his ass, Logan had made some very good points. “Yeah.” Finn glanced over Logan’s shoulder as they approached the parked police car.

“We’re really going to piss them off today. Go with it.” Were the last words out of Logan’s mouth as he backed himself up against the police car, pulled Finn flush against him, and crashed their lips together. Finn barely missed a beat before he was kissing back, moving a hand up to cradle the back of Logan’s head. On New Year’s – when Finn was convinced Logan was going to kiss him but didn’t – Finn imagined what kissing him would be like. He pictured it soft, tantalizing, and teasing, just like the rest of their night had been. It was somewhat like that, and yet Finn was still off by miles. This kiss was a lot of things – it was warm and feisty and absolutely addictive – but soft didn’t fit the description at all. Logan kissed enthusiastically, if not a little sloppily. Finn couldn’t really tell if that was part of the drunk ruse or not.

Fuck, this was a con. It wasn’t real. This was for the mission, and nothing else.

But then why did it feel so real?

Finn pushed the thoughts away as he angled his head and deepened the kiss, inhaling sharply through his nose as he only then remembered the necessity that was breathing. He might not get this opportunity again, so he was going to use this chance to make Logan weak in the knees. Finn’s brain knew it was a horrible idea, but he wanted Logan to remember this, to think about it before he went to bed that night and wonder what if. If they weren’t spies or partners or on the biggest operation of their entire careers, what if he could have this?

If this was the only time Finn would ever get to kiss Logan, he was also going to make sure he remembered every tiny detail: the way Logan’s breath hitched when he bit down on his bottom lip, the feel of cold hands slipping under his sweatshirt, the rise and fall of his chest against Finn’s.

“Hey now!” A gruff voice shouted, grabbing Finn’s shoulder and pulling the two apart. “Cut it out.”

Finn staggered back – which was not an act. He was just that off balance, mind reeling. The police officer was glaring at him sternly, looking very annoyed. Finn shrugged carelessly, letting his words slur. “I would say sorry, but I mean – come on. Look at him. Can you blame me?”

Leo watched from his vantage point on a nearby park bench, something twisting painfully in his chest.

He could admit he was jealous – that was the easy part. But he wasn’t jealous in a way that made any sense. He was jealous of both of them. He wanted both of them. And yeah, it was a con and they were just making out to get the officers’ attentions, but it sure looked genuine. There were some things you just couldn’t fake.

The way Logan was gazing at Finn was one of them.

Of all people, he had to catch feelings for spies. Not just one spy – two. Two spies who may or may not have feelings for each other.

Fuck.

This is what I get for letting myself speculate, I guess.

“Leo?” Remus’ voice asked through his earpiece. “What’s going on?”

Leo focused back on the mission at hand and forced his voice to stay even. “They’re, uh, making out against a cop car.”

Sirius laughed loudly, while Remus just sighed long-sufferingly. “That’s one way to do it, I guess.”

“They’re egging the cop on, now.” Leo said, watching as Logan’s shoulders tensed and he said something harsh to the cop. “Looks like it won’t be long.”

Sure enough, the cop whipped out his handcuffs and motioned for Leo’s partners to turn around and put their hands behind their backs. They were loaded into the back of the cop car, and Leo allowed his eyes to follow it as it drove off towards the precinct before getting to his feet and walking in the same direction. “They’re on their way. Let me know when all the action starts.”

“Copy that.”

The good thing about being on a mission was that Leo didn’t really have time to internally reflect or try and decipher his feelings. He had a job to do. He couldn’t afford to mess this up because he was too busy stuck in his own head.

He did, however, assume he had enough time to not rush his walk to the precinct. Finn and Logan still needed to be searched, booked, and put in the holding cell before they could even think of starting the riot. So he kept his gait slow and let himself get lost in the sound of the wind sweeping through the trees and the rustle of dead leaves as they danced across the sidewalk.

He shoved a hand in his pocket, finding the old, worn, familiar lock there and fiddled with the dial.

***

Things in the holding cell were… not exactly going to plan.

First of all, there were about half the number of gang members in the holding cell than they anticipated. This wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the end of the world either. It might be harder to get everyone in the precinct to pay attention, but Finn was still confident in their ability to cause a scene. Then it got stranger.

The gang members were absolutely delightful.

Three were sitting by Logan, sharing stories behind their numerous tattoos and rolling up their sleeves to show off more ink. Four more were in a cuddle puddle in one of the corners of the cell, trying to get some sleep. One was even sitting by Finn, although he had made no attempt to strike up a conversation or anything. Finn was usually pretty comfortable with his height – he was tall, by most people’s standards. But the guy sitting next to him was huge. He was at least three inches taller than Leo, and easily twice as broad. With an unreadable face made of stone, the guy was also practically impossible to get a read on. Finn figured he needed to do something to get the ball rolling. Poor Nutter Butter would be stuck outside all night at this rate.

So he braced himself, turned to the guy next to him, and said, “Hey.”

Not his best conversation starter.

The guy looked at him strangely. Finn decided to keep going. “I’m Finn.”

“Tanner.”

“How’s your night going, Tanner?”

Tanner seemed to think Finn was certifiably insane. “Well, seeing that I’m currently in jail, not great.”

“Right… right.” Finn trailed off, cringing internally. He was so off his game tonight. Of course, he knew why, but that didn’t make it any easier to snap out of it. All he could think of was pressing Logan against a cop car and how much he wanted to do it again. But it wasn’t that simple-

“Are you ok?” Finn looked back up at Tanner, who shrugged stiffly. “You seem a little stressed.”

Finn thought about it, then decided fuck it. He’d never see this guy again. And who would Tanner tell? He blurted out, “I kissed my coworker today.”

Tanner blinked, then leaned back against the wall. “Ok.”

“I don’t think he feels the same way.”

He didn’t even bat an eye and the whole being attracted to the same gender thing. His face still revealed nothing. Finn couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. “Did he kiss you back?”

“Well, yeah.” Finn said, glancing across the cell at Logan and thinking back on the feeling of those lips pressed against his, the texture of the soft curls beneath his fingertips.

“Then what the fuck is the holdup?”

Finn sighed, looking back at Tanner. “It’s not that simple.”

“Look. He either likes you or he doesn’t. What good does it do you to keep guessing when you could get a definitive answer by just asking him? Everyone seems to forget how simple things are when you break them down into components. It’s just simple communication, dude. That’s it.”

“But-” Finn stopped short, taking a second to think when he was struck with a realization. It wasn’t out of the blue, nor was it completely surprising. It still felt like getting hit by a fucking train, though.

Tanner let him stay silent for a second, then prodded curtly, “But?”

“I… I think I might have feelings for another of my friends, too.” Finn thought of sunny blond hair, kind blue eyes, and a warm, dimpled smile.

Shit.

“You know polyamorous relationships are a thing, right?” Tanner sat up straighter, looking at Finn eagerly. It was the first emotion Finn had seen on his face, and also strangely endearing. “I have a ton of articles I can send you if you’re interested.”

Finn couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “Thanks, man. I think I might have to wait it out, though. We all work together and it would get so complicated so fast. Maybe once we finish the project we’re working on together.”

Tanner followed his eyes across the cell to Logan. Finn hadn’t even realized he was staring at him again. “Is that the one you kissed or the other one?”

Finn arched an eyebrow, which the gang member snorted at. “You aren’t subtle, bud.”

“That’s the one I kissed. Well, he kissed me, if we’re being technical. But I don’t think he meant it. It was kind of a – a dare, I guess you could say.”

Tanner’s face turned stormy. “He did what now?”

Finn frantically started to backtrack. “It’s fine. I mean, I’m not mad or anything-”

Tanner stood up and pointed angrily at Logan. “You!” He bellowed, voice like thunder. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Logan looked from Tanner to Finn, then back to Tanner, brow knitting in confusion. “What?”

“Did no one teach you about consent you little piece of-”

And then Tanner drew back his fist and slammed it into Logan’s cheek in a brutal cross hit. Silence rang through the holding cell as Logan reeled backwards, raising a hand to his cheek, which was already red. When he looked up at Tanner again, his eyes were a combination of furious and excited.

It looked like they were getting their fight now.

Finn managed to get out the words “holy shit” before all hell broke loose.

Logan threw the next punch, aiming for the stomach first and then the temple when Tanner doubled over, knocking the breath out of him. One of the other gang members took offense to that on Tanner’s behalf and went after Logan, who dodged the first swing easily and collided his fist into the guy’s nose.

The three gang members who were talking about tattoos with Logan instantly jumped to back him up, while the four who were sleeping leapt to their feet and tried to make sense of the situation. There was a charged energy in the air, an undercurrent of adrenaline and anger mingling with it.

Finn hated fights. They were messy and ugly and painful. Plus he was a conman – if his face was all beat up and bruised, no one would trust him and he’d never get any of his jobs done. So he tried to avoid them as much as he could, but he didn’t think he was getting out of this one.

Logan turned his fiery gaze on Finn, making him take an aborted step backwards before he realized this was the plan. They were supposed to be starting a fight. Finn wasn’t sure he could fight his partner, though. Especially since he’d kissed the guy just shy of two hours ago. Luckily he didn’t have to think too hard about it, because Tanner was back on his feet and charging at Logan, along with two other gang members.

Logan moved like the ocean when he fought – smooth and fluid, but also unpredictable and dangerous and wild. He also clearly knew exactly what he was doing, how to exact the most damage on his opponents. He used his size to his advantage by punching upwards and using his leg muscles to land harder punches. With shorter limbs like that, his blows were quick, effective, and brutal. Logan also seemed to be a southpaw, delivering brutal body shots directly to the liver.

It was absolutely mesmerizing.

Unfortunately, Finn was too busy watching Logan to notice the guy coming towards him until he was tackled forcibly to the ground. His head smacked the concrete floor painfully, stunning him for a brief second. When the spots disappeared from his field of vision, he looked up at the guy standing over him.

“Fuck you, man.”

***

“Nut, you’re good to go.” Remus said as he watched cops swarm the holding cell. “I’ll keep an eye out for any stragglers that might catch you.”

“Thanks.” Leo said, and Remus watched the security footage of the side door as Leo crouched by it and began picking the lock. Sirius looked over his shoulder and whistled lowly.

“Damn, Tremblay’s got some moves.”

Remus briefly switched his gaze over to the footage of the holding cell before scanning the hallways for stray officers. “That’s kind of his thing. He gets sent into situations where things are dicey and people need some sense knocked into them.”

“Maybe he should teach O’Hara. He’s already on the ground.”

“What?” Leo asked, sounding concerned as he unlocked the door and slipped inside. “Is he ok?”

Remus watched Finn climb to his feet and face the guy who knocked him down, getting into an admittedly terrible fighting stance. “He’s fine. Head straight down that hallway. The evidence room is the last door on your left.”

“I hate not knowing what’s going on.” Leo muttered, creeping effortlessly down the hall. “Now I understand why Logan hated the bank missions so much.”

Sirius was watching the action in the holding cell eagerly. “I think this mission more than makes up for those. He’s having a blast. Look at him go! He’s a little ball of rage.”

Leo laughed under his breath as he broke into the evidence room seemingly effortlessly. “Ooh, you’d better not let him hear you say that.”

Remus frowned, watching the blond locate the safe and crouch in front of it. Something about him was… off. He’d seemed fine earlier, but now he seemed subdued. His voice was carefully controlled and even, a blank mask on his face.

So the question was: what had happened between 10 am and now that made him feel like he had to distance himself?

The safe opened within a few minutes. Leo switched out the flash drives and pocketed the real one, closing the safe again and rising to his feet. “Headed out now.”

“Coast is clear.” Remus said, looking back at the holding cell. The officers were pulling people apart and seemed to be getting things back under control. “Good timing – looks like the fight is wrapping up. Now all you’ve got to do is pay their bail after a little while and hit the road.”

“Perfect. That’s the easy part.”

Paying bail, it turned out, was not the easy part.

After what felt like the thirtieth time he’d signed a fake name on the forms and having to jump through countless hoops, Leo still had to wait over an hour until Finn and Logan were processed and released. So he sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the lobby and waited. And waited. And waited.

When his partners finally walked through the doors, Leo did a double-take. He knew they’d been in a fight, but good lord.

“Y’all look like shit.” He said, taking in Logan’s bruised cheek, the way Finn was cradling his left arm to his chest, and their overall rumpled appearances. He also noticed the way they were steadfastly refusing to look at each other.

Logan snorted. “Thanks, Peanut.”

Leo shrugged, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m just telling the truth here. Don’t kill the messenger.”

“Let’s go home.” Finn said wearily as he led the way outside and towards their car, limping slightly. “I think I might be allergic to this makeup. It’s starting to itch.”

Later that night, when they were all in their separate apartments scattered across the city, all three of them faced a restless night of staring up at their ceilings and wondering, in some variation or another, what if.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: violence

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wispandwhispers · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Monochromia!

Words: 2048

Previous | Next

Tw(s) : Cursing, Implied torture, getting disturbing commissions, talked about murder (Tell me if there is any to add)

Pairing(s) : Eventually Logicality, Dukeceit, Eventually Prinxiety.

Notes : I’ve had this idea on the back burner for so long and its finally here

"Zynx, how do you plan to secure the vote in the Fumi sector?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, how are you planning to make a comeback after Foster destroyed your chances of getting the majority ?"

"No comment."

"Zynx, is the rumours of you and Crownford sleeping together true?"

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure what you're talking about."

A limousine pulled up in front of the city hall and the chauffeur rolled down the window. A simple eye signal and he knew it was time to go.

"No more questions."

"Zynx a moment of your t-"

The chauffeur slammed the door of the limousine and started the planned safety-checked drive back to his boss' residence.

He looked in the mirror at his employer which a cheeky grin.

"I have a good feeling your sick of this question but how in fuck's name are you going to win this election? "

The passenger glared at his employee, clearly pissed.

"Do not test my patience Remy."

"Holy shit, you didn't say my full name, who are you and what have you done with Logan Zynx?"

"Just pass my yarn bag, I'm so fucking stressed."

Remy opened the compartment and chucked the medium sized light- blue pouch to the back.

"I don't understand why you don't you just go around firing people, snort crack, hate sex or whatever rich people do the wind down."

"I don't really know, this brings me peace for some reason."

The conversation died down and Logan got to work on stress knitting a new scarf/sock/ thing while Remy took the back route to his estate in the Prime sector with the sound of the radio in the background.

The usual daily announcements, the signal time, the weather update, the tired host annoying the news-

-Roman Crownford made headlines tonight when he was caught carrying election candidate, Logan Zynx in the bridal position . Rumours have emerged that the two are in a relationship and-

The driver's neck snapped back to stare at the person in the back seat.

"Spill."

"I don't speak slang."

"Fine, explain."

"I decided to go out for a drink, someone decided to spike it, woke up in my bed with this guy staring at me. That's what I can remember at least."

"Sounds like the start to some shitty rom-com."

-Footage can be seen of the actor carefully helping the politician get to his car to supposedly drive him home.

"Please turn that down, If I listen to that anymore I'll get a headache from the bullshit they are spewing. And I already have one from the debate so please."

Remy turn the dial anti-clockwise.

"Anyway, you need to be focusing on which is the best assassin in the area, I personally recommend Remus-"

In the mirror, the driver could see his employer's eyes sharpen in annoyance.

"I plan to win the election without murdering someone and even if I was to kill Patton, I would probably get caught anyway."

The limousine came to a halt.

"You better get inside, three minutes 'til the signal goes live."

Logan let himself out of the vehicle and faced the other

"I'm aware. That's why I wear a watch if you weren't aware."

Remy just shook his head.

"You're still the fucking antisocial nerd you were as a teen."

"And you were the same shade of black and white since you were twelve but I don't comment about it." Logan retorted as he started to walk to his door.

"Don't come for my kneecaps bitch, I'm being a queen in the colours I can see and I'm fucking proud of my basic bitch style."

"God you're so egotistical. Why am I friend with you again?"

"Your bad life decisions, not mine."

Logan heard the limousine drive off into the distance. He would assume the Remy would just listen to the signal in the car. And then promptly go and get a coffee to fuel his caffeine addiction that can never satisfied.

Logan walked into his house and sat down on his armchair. Cathrine climbed onto his lap but he's shooed her away. She always seemed to meow louder during the signal.

Your daily broadcast is about to begin, remember you can always t̙̰̖̲͔͈͚̱̞͙̐̇͋́̅̊̀̅̕͝ų̺̺̟͇͈͎̝̫̱̳̝͈̬͔̩̠̞̙͑̍͒̌̅͗̔͑̿̋̔͘̕̕̚̕͠͠͠r̡̧̧̛̟̺͍̘̘͉̞͔͇̭͍̮̒̋͆́̎̿̀̉́̏̊͘͘͜͠͡n̡̢̛̥̺̱̫͖̹̩̲̝̪͊̊̊͂̔̇͆̓̄̋̓̓ͅ i̢̱͕̮͎̺͓͂̒̊͂͒̏̍t̨̨̥̦̙̭̦̀̄̾̂̽̄͘ o̧̥̗͚̮͇̬̠̥̼̮̫͕̞̪̭̝̼̍͒̇̀̐̌̊͆́̐͂͒̀̋͌̌͐̕̚͜f̡̢̨̢̥̬̳͓̺̖͍͐͒̍̄̋̂̏͂̍̊̏̅͜f̛̹̱̜̥͇̜̥̙͇̻͍̙͈̱̈́̎͋̏̑̑͊́̌̓̓͗́́͟ ȧ̢̧̢̞̙̦͉̪͇̇̾̄̑̽̓̈́̾̓̌͟͜͝ͅẗ̜͎̖̰͖͉͇̦̥́̍̑̄̚͘͞͡͞ ä̡̫̰̪̰̖͕̲͙̲̝̘̤͎́̂̏̇̓̃̍̽̐́̚͘͢͞͡͡ǹ̢͇̙͇̙̯͎̬̟͖̪̥̹͔̙̿́̓̍̽̊͆̈̓̍̎̀̏͌͌͜͞ͅy͓̪̟̲̩̙͚̗̫͚̰̘̫͈͌̍̊̃̎̓͒̄̔͑͆̈̄͠ -

It cackled unholy sound, like the type static made but way worse and the device proceeded to go radio silent (no pun intended). Logan walked over to see if Cathrine had chewed through the wires again but she was curled up in a ball on the heater.

"I got this fixed not even a week ago, It can't be broken already.."

The box suddenly flickered back to life akin to a car engine. Logan sighed in relief, returning to his chair waiting for the-

Good evening lucky citizen, I am proud to interrupt your daily brainwashing in the hopes that you will heed my warning. Stop listening to the fucking signal or broadcast or wave or whatever you call it in your sector.This is probably the most idiotic thing that you have ever heard. I am fully aware. But also was that story our caregivers told us so we wouldn't cover our ears. So you listened through the hidden circle of hell that was the sound you heard. But you don't remember the pain and only the calm when it ended, don't you? In the very likely case you are currently at your mobile trying to report me., let me save you the hassle of trying to find a name. Call me-

Logan promptly ripped the radio cord out of the socket.

Pacing around his study slowly, trying to mentally recall a fact, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. The broadcast had ended the second he had pulled out the plug. He couldn't dwell on that. He typed in a number and let the waiting sound become his background noise until someone picked up.

"Patton, can I stay at yours for the night?"

*****

" Q.Quill. A twenty year old woman who grew up in godforsaken dump that is Fumi, clawed her way to the top and started to biggest drug empire in the city, who always has four weapons on her person at all times, the person whose body has never gotten more than a scratch before the person who dared to hurt her died was killed by her own hands and you killed her sneaking an acid bomb into her Big Mac. I'm surprised Duke. It's less creative than how you usually murder your target."

"You wound me Pip, when I joined this company I swore to myself that every single job I do , I would pour my hearty and soul into. There is no was in-"

"Let me guess, the acid is more than acid."

'Duke' gave a slick grin. "Wanna know what was in it?"

"Nah, I'm still traumatised from the hat job."

She passed a bag to the assassin.

"You know where to pick up your pay check from. Get the fuck out of my office..

Grabbing the sack, moonwalking on his hellys that Pip was convinced he was not wearing before, 'Duke' went to collect his earnings.

He rolled to the Shed, pick up the cash, stuffed a red hot poker into the eye of a guy who tried to mug him and continued on with his daily rout-

"Thomas!" Duke ran up to the named person and lifted him into the air. Then he slapped his face.

"Ow, what the fuck was that Re...," A frantic head shake for 'not the right time. "Duke .."

Thomas narrowed his eyebrows and pulled the Duke to the nearby alleyway. Thomas was going to speak but the other beat him to it.

"I slapped you, partially because I wanted to and because it's not safe to be around me at the moment because I kinda killed someone off duty so the Shed is probably after me and your dad will kill me if I get blood on your shirt and Janus is terrifying when pissed."

Thomas just stood back, taking a good moment to process the information.

"How did you get chosen to be an assassin?"

"Do you think I know?"

Duke perked his ears up. Footsteps. Very light and carefully planned ones as well.

"Ok Thomas, I'm got to play with people's intestines now, say hi to Janus for me and rennet that's nothing is illegal if you don't get caught!"Duke took out a sewing needle out of his pocket than had green thread.

Thomas felt sorry for the victims ,already starting to back out of the future crime scene.

"Sure!"

*********

Virgil stepped back from from his computer, questioning why he even decided to take commissions in the first place. And seeming from the email, this wasn't someone trying to fuck with him.

Time to get some moral support.

i'llburnifigointothesun: What would you do if a guy offered you one fucking million for a piece of fanart of them living out their romantic fantasies

FosterDawg: You don't need to do nsfw pieces. You're not a broke college student

i'llburnifigointothesun:Yeah, I've upgraded to a broke adult.

FosterDawg : So...Why are you nervous about this? You've drawn kisses before albeit it wasn't normally the most light hearted work but this isn't one of your triggers.

i'llburnifigointothesun: the condition is I have to hand paint this and they want it 'hyper-realistic'. i kinda don't want my hands to die.

FosterDawg : Kiddo, at the end of the day, it's your call if you want to do this or not.

i'llburnifigointothesun: it was such a dad thing to end that with an exclamation mark.

Virgil put down his phone, listened to the broadcast ,stared long and hard at his paintbrushes. After about half an hour he got out a canvas and pulled up reference images.

He gritted his teeth. "If they're lying, I'm about to going to sue."

*******

"Dad, I'm home!"

Thomas flung his backpack onto the floor, walking to the kitchen to partially look for his dad and partially to get the leftover pizza.

"Okay, he's still at work which means time for-"

"Thomas you can't watch Steven Universe re-runs until five in the morning again, you have your revision that you'll procrastinate and then panic a month before you the exam date in guilt of not studying."

The father had seemed to just manifest out of thin air, standing behind his son and the other couldn't tell if he had been there for an hour or two minutes.He rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Dad, I didn't ask you to peer into my soul.Also Remus says hi." He fiddled with the remote control, deciding what cartoon to binge watch .

The parent rushed to his son ,checking his face to see if was hurt. "Shit, you didn't see him kill or hurt anyone, right?"

"Yep!"

Janus let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "Thank fuck, you can't be used as a witness."

Thomas walked over to the front door to retrieve his discarded backpack and took out his music theory notes. He scanned through the notes and then lowered his head in frustration."Why did I pick this class?"

"It seemed like a good decision at the time, for you and you just started your Hamilton phase." Janus saw his son staring over what he assumed was the homework. The due date was in a weeks time. He had an internal debate with himself and came to a decision.

"You know what, fuck that!," He chucked Thomas homework to the side. "Do what makes you happy tonight, you seem stressed and you should take time for yourself."

Thomas started at his dad for a few seconds and gave him a big hug. " Thanks, I kinda needed that.. This maybe a bad time but I kinda threw my tie-dye pride flag with your yellow dress shirts.

Janus stared at the other with a glare that could be sarcasm or could be anger. "Well, everything could be gayer."

The dad finally put down his hat on the coat stand and started to walk upstairs. "Remember to keep it down, I'll be live."

"Kay.."Thomas started his self care routine by microwaving the leftover pizza.

Taglist( Ask me if you want to be added):

@katlikethesword, @crinklesnuff

#logicality #wisp writes #i fucking did it #thank you cat #so much #anyway #dukeceit #demus #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders

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ptergwen · 5 years

Text

every hero needs a sidekick

warnings: (some) angst

a/n: hi i’m sosososo sorry for not writing anything in a really long time AHHH but i hope this makes up for it <3 also! this happens in ffh but i changed a few things

—

the last time peter checked, he was in berlin. he can’t be more confused when he wakes up in a holding cell that, according to one of his surprisingly friendly cellmates, is in the netherlands. how the hell did he end up in the netherlands?

when the guard isn’t paying attention, peter takes advantage and tears off the lock to his cell before limping out of the building as quickly as he can manage. deciding that he should figure out what happened before making his next move, he heads over to the side of the building so no one will see him.

he sits with his back against a wall and his head in his hands, trying to recall the events that brought him to an entirely different country.

flashes of images start to flood peter’s mind. of nick fury and maria hill. of tony. of mj. of you. he squeezes his eyes shut tightly until they disappear. then he remembers they weren’t even real. they were just illusions that mysterio created to mess with him.

he pulls his hands away from his face and notices that one is... bleeding? no. it’s not bleeding, but there is blood on it. the blood actually came from a cut on his cheek. he doesn’t know how he got the cut, though. suddenly, peter is aware that his whole body hurts. he‘s beginning to remember mysterio hitting him with a train that left him completely covered in gashes.

that explains his limp, and how he got to the netherlands.

now that peter pieced everything together, he’s panicking. all he wants to do is talk to the one person who he knows can calm him down right now. he wastes no time dialing your number, not even caring about the possibility that mysterio has his phone tapped.

“pick up, pick up, pick up,” peter says to himself, waiting for you to answer. after what fees like a lifetime to him, you finally do. “hey, mj told me you guys ended up going to prague? how is it?”

you were supposed to join him on your class’s trip to europe, but pepper wanted you to stay home with her and morgan after everything that’s happened the past few months. it‘s understandable, and pointless to fight her on. no amount of arguing would’ve convinced her to let you go.

peter, on the other hand, wishes more than anything that you could’ve come with him. maybe then he wouldn’t have gotten into this mess. one of his favorite things about you is how smart you are. way smarter than him, in his opinion. you are a stark after all.

mj has been helping peter with his hero stuff ever since she figured out he’s spider-man, and of course ned, and the trip is fun when he’s not in situations like this. it would be even better for him with you there, though.

“yeah, um, about that. i’m not actually... there anymore.” peter sighs and runs a hand through his hair, forgetting about the blood on it. “why not? fury didn’t make you go to europol...”

you know about nick‘s plans for peter to take over for your dad. you just didn’t expect him to put them into action so soon. peter needs a break. he’s been dealing with the same thing the rest of you have, and the trip to europe was supposed to take his mind off of it for a few days.

“not exactly. it’s... it’s a lot to explain. just really needed to talk to you right-” peter interrupts himself with a coughing fit. you’re getting concerned. “now. really needed to talk to you right now,” peter finishes with another sigh.

“you don’t sound good, peter. what’s wrong?” “nothing’s wrong, y/n. i’m okay.” his small voice tells you otherwise. “tell me where you are.” “what?” “tell me where you are. i’ll go get happy. we can come pick you up.”

as much as peter wants that, he knows for sure that pepper doesn’t. probably even more so now that there are elemental creatures attacking europe. well, technically a bitter ex stark industries employee attacking europe and making it look like the elementals are doing it. bottom line, he can’t put another one of his friends in danger. especially not his best friend.

“no, y/n/n. you can’t. it isn’t safe here,” peter tries. you roll your eyes even though he can’t see you. “i’m gonna find out whether you want me to or not. i’ll track your phone or something.” chuckling at how stubborn you always are, peter forces himself to his feet and over to the front of the building so he can read the name on it to you. “got it. is there a spot we could land the jet?”

“uhhhh,” peter looks around and spots a field not too far away that’s cleared except for tulip beds. “there’s a flower field kinda close by.” “we’ll pick you up there. are you gonna be okay waiting?” there’s a beat of silence before peter responds, “mhm. love you.” “love you too.” you end the call and peter starts heading over to the field as you look for happy.

left alone with just his thoughts again, peter is anything but okay. he’s just realized that mysterio knows ned, mj, and maybe even betty know he’s been faking everything with illusion tech. that puts them and his whole class in even more danger. honestly, peter has no idea what to do about it. he doesn’t even know where they are right now.

he reaches for his phone to warn ned, but again remembers it could be tapped. that also means mysterio could know where he is since peter told you. what if you and happy aren’t coming, but illusions of you? peter considers turning back. he’s closer to the field than the holding cell, though, and in too much pain to make the trip.

peter is trudging through tulips when he looks up and sees a jet flying above him. he squints at how bright the sky is, stepping back as the jet lands on the patchy grass.

you’re already stepping off the jet the literal second it lands. happy watches from the door. you start making your way over to a banged up peter, but he has his hand in front of his face, blocking you from seeing it.

“y/n? is that you?” peter shouts so you can hear him. “is it me? yeah, of course it’s me!” you shout back. “stop! tell me something only you would know!” peter’s voice shakes as he takes a hesitant step back.

“something only i would know? um... ok.” you wrack your brain for something; a memory.

“remember that one time in gym? in tenth grade? you were trying to impress liz when we were playing volleyball, so you made me go to the other side of the net and, like, throw it at your head? you wanted to hit it off to show her how good you were, but i aimed wrong and hit you in the face instead. the nurse almost died laughing when we told her what happened.”

you cringe at the memory. a relieved smile is on peter’s face as he walks the rest of the way over to you.

“yeah, her and our entire gym class. you have no idea how glad i am it’s you.” peter throws his arms around you for a hug, hiding his face in your shoulder. you hug him back and take in just how bruised he is. he finally exhales for the first time in a while.

“please don’t let me go yet.” peter’s voice is muffled by your shirt. it always hurts you seeing him like this. “i won’t.” you pull him closer to you, making him wince. “we should get you onto the jet, though. happy brought a first aid kit. just in case.”

peter looks up at happy, who’s still watching you two. he holds up the first aid kit you mentioned in one hand and waves at peter with his other. pressing his lips into a tight smile, peter gives him a wave back.

“could you uh... could you help me get on? think i got a limp.” “yeah, of course.” you frown before pulling away from peter to stand next to him, wrapping your arm around his waist. he puts an arm around your shoulders and walks with you guiding him. happy meets the two of you at the bottom of the stairs. he takes peter’s other side and helps him up with you.

after you’ve sat peter down, happy sits behind him and opens up the first aid kit. you take the seat facing peter.

“ok, peter. looks like you’re gonna need a few stitches,” happy announces after checking out his gashes. nodding, peter mentally prepares himself for the pain. he starts with the deepest one, on peter’s back. peter reaches for your hand. you let him take it. “wanna tell us how you got like this?”

“it was beck. he hit me with a train cuz i- ouch, happy,” peter hisses just as happy finishes stitching up his wound. “sorry, kid.” happy gives peter an apologetic smile, cleaning off the needle.

peter‘s grip on your hand tightens as the needle enters another wound. “wait, beck did this? i thought you guys were friends? keep talking,” you encourage him. “so did i. then mj and i figured out that he’s been faking the elementals with illusion tech. like, drones and projectors. i would’ve told you sooner, but i had to get to europol to warn mr. fury.”

your jaw literally drops. “seriously? i never would’ve known. that’s crazy!” “right? he found out that i know and scared me with all these illusions. they seemed super real. that’s why i wasn’t sure if you were... you.”

you swing yours and peter’s hands, another frown making its way onto your face. “i’m really sorry you had to go through all of that. you’re good now, though, right?” you search your friend’s face for an answer. he meets your eyes with something unreadable in them. “yeah, i think so.” “ok, good. you can always tell me if that changes. i’ll be here.”

peter’s response is a quick kiss to the back of your hand, which makes you grin.

happy finishes peter’s stitches and leaves you two to talk. you and peter thank him.

“how did beck even get access to so many drones?” you ask peter, helping him up with his hand that’s still in yours. his gaze shifts to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck, one of his nervous habits. but what could he be nervous about?

“i uh... i messed up really bad and gave him edith.” peter mumbles. you pull your hand from his and run it through your hair in frustration. “you what? peter, why would you do that? that’s the only thing my dad left for you! you gave it away to beck of all people?” “i didn’t think she was really meant for me to have!”

you soften at peter’s confession. “huh? what do you mean?” peter’s eyes are red when they meet yours again. “forget it. doesn’t matter.” his voice is strained from holding back tears. you’re hurting again for the boy in front of you. he takes a few steps away and turns around, not wanting you to see him cry. he’s always holding things in when you wish he wouldn’t.

“it does matter. talk to me.” you reach out to put a hand on his shoulder.

“it’s just... i didn’t think mr. stark would really trust me with a multibillion dollar pair of glasses that can literally do anything. you know? he knows all the mistakes i’ve made. beck seemed good so i thought, why not give him edith? somebody who really deserves her. it was so stupid, looking back now, and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” peter’s voice breaks as he lets himself cry.

you’re quick to move so you’re in front of him, both hands on his cheeks. a few more tears fall before you wipe away them away with the pads of your thumbs, your way of reminding peter you’re there.

“are- are you mad at me?” peter sniffles. “no, peter. i mean, you wouldn’t have done it if you knew what was gonna happen. you were just doing what you thought was right. i’m sorry for yelling at you.” “thanks.” peter closes his eyes, leaning his cheek into your palm.

“by the way, the thing you said about my dad not trusting you with edith? that’s not true. yeah, he knew you made mistakes, but you always fix them. he knew that, too. my dad... he really did believe in you. the most. i’m serious.” you manage a small smile. “thank you. i really... thank you. i really miss him.” “me too.”

you hug peter this time, your head resting on his chest. he squeezes you close to him. you two stay like that until you notice happy standing in the doorway of the jet’s pit.

“hate to ruin the moment, but we gotta move. we’ve been hovering over a tulip field for the last fifteen minutes.” peter pulls away, making his way over to happy with you following.

“ummm, okay. i need to find mj, ned, and betty. beck is probably looking for them. can i have your phone?” happy starts searching through his pockets.

“anything i can do?” you shrug. “well, i need a suit. wanna help?” you’re already setting up as soon as peter mentions a suit. you love making suits— it’s a stark thing. “duh.” peter smiles as you get to work, happy handing him his phone.

“hey, y/n?” you look up from your early rendering in progress. “thanks again for helping me. i know pepper didn’t want you to be here, so it really means a lot that you still came.” “don’t even worry about it.” you smile back. “every hero need a a sidekick.”

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