#the doctor: i will avoid this child's question by spitting up all the food | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratkook · 3 years

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right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day.

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!”

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily.

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really.

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me.

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs.

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again.

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place.

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping.

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub.

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you.

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food.

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are.

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container.

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops.

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too.

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings.

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work.

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers.

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral.

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time.

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her.

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener.

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup.

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions.

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully.

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide.

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help.

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.”

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are.

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault.

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile.

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her.

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners.

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling.

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal.

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound. “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination.

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped.

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain.

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him.

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels.

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night.

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie.

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom.

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out.

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up.

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.”

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice.

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night.

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below.

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation.

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier.

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long.

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close.

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time.

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way.

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be.

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it.

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior.

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over.

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically.

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened.

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it.

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up.

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom.

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life.

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best.

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow.

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator.

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected.

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying.

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely.

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you.

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response.

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages.

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them.

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away.

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal.

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you.

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand.

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way.

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself.

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up.

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times.

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse.

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start.

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking.

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?”

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono.

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory.

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream.

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will.

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion.

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence.

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you.

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush.

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right.

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult.

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face.

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours.

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out.

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it.

“Mm, no you don’t.”

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss.

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck.

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him.

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you.

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this.

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours.

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more.

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps.

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation.

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch.

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you.

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart.

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way.

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be.

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name.

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away.

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out.

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips.

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him.

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it.

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm.

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips.

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own.

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets.

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way.

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless.

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up.

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you.

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now.

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips.

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before.

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized.

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his.

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached.

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace.

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks.

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him.

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans.

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager.

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it. “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too.

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you.

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

#jungkook smut #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jeongguk smut #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook fluff #new

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

LXC is the legal guardian and adopter for LSZ or LJY, and NMJ has questions.

part 2 of the LJY-adopted-by-LQR fic (now also on ao3)

“So, did I knock you up before I went to war or something?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Because I feel like you should’ve mentioned it if that was the case. Possibly in a letter.”

Lan Xichen was so tired that it took him a solid minute to parse what was wrong with that sentence and how to respond, and it was not by following his first instinct to apologize that he should’ve written better letters.

“Stop making fun of me,” he said instead, groping towards some measure of dignity.

Sadly, dignity was in very short supply when you were taking care of babies. Multiple babies. Well, one baby and one toddler, which was somehow worse?

Lan Xichen was pretty sure they’d figured out how to time their crying off each other.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue said, like a liar, and then he picked up little Jingyi and – Lan Xichen simply cannot find another way to put it – shook him, in a manner not unlike testing a melon for freshness.

For some reason, this made Lan Jingyi stop crying and start making snuffling little giggles instead.

“How did you do that?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes wide.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue tucked the baby into the crook of his arm and scooped up some food off the table, offering it to him, and Lan Jingy actually ate it. “Xichen, are you feeling all right?”

“Shhh!” Lan Xichen hissed, eyes fixed on the baby, which was neither spitting up everything nor wailing as if his heart was broken. “No unnecessary noise during meals.”

Nie Mingjue snorted in amusement. “Sure,” he said amiably, in the tone Lan Xichen had long ago learned meant ‘nice rules you’ve got there, it’d be an awful shame if someone found a loophole in them’. “This isn’t a meal, though; it’s just a snack.”

Lan Xichen eyed the still-not-crying Lan Jingyi and decided that now was not the time for a spirited debate on the virtues of discipline and fulfilling the merits rather than the word of a rule.

“Where’s monster number one gone?” Nie Mingjue asked abruptly. “He must be very good at hiding, because I looked away for a blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes slowly dropped down to where a cloth-covered lump was not-so-sneakily edging towards Nie Mingjue’s foot.

Nie Mingjue was one of the foremost front line fighters of their generation, and possibly the previous one as well. His physical ability was matched only by his incredibly keen senses.

There was no way he was not aware of the lump.

“It’s a real shame, too,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I was planning on doing a test of how far you can throw children, but I think monster two here’s a bit too small to make the test worthwhile. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be –”

You can’t throw children, Lan Xichen was about to say, except Lan Sizhui was tearing off the tablecloth and jumping up in excitement, shouting, “Here! Here! I’m here! I’m big enough! You can throw me!”

“Why does he want to be thrown,” Lan Xichen murmured, bewildered. He’d never wanted to be thrown around as a child. Had he?

In fairness, he wasn’t sure. No one had ever offered.

Apparently, though, Lan Sizhui did very much want to be thrown around, and Lan Jingyi even condescended to allow Lan Xichen to hold him while he watched.

“Higher! Higher!” Lan Sizhui shouted.

“Really? Is this high enough?” Nie Mingjue held him up at eye level.

“Higher!”

“Like this?” Above his head.

“Higher!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“All right. How about –” Baxia slithered out from her place by the door, zipping over until she was right in front of Nie Mingjue, allowing him to step onto her like a stair, and then zipping upwards to about hip-height, lifting Nie Mingjue and Lan Sizhui with her. They very nearly hit a tree branch with their heads. “– this?”

Lan Sizhui shrieked with laughter.

“It’s too early to introduce them to flying,” Lan Xichen objected, because it was. “Mingjue-xiong…”

Nie Mingjue hopped down with a laugh. “All right, one last toss,” he told Lan Sizhui. “Then you nap. Okay?”

“Okay!” Lan Sizhui, who had never once willingly succumbed to naptime in the entirety of the time that Lan Xichen had known him, promised earnestly.

Back into the pile of soft grass he went, giggling the entire time, and amazingly enough he really did fall asleep afterwards. Lan Jingyi, too, had fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve decided that your brother needs more experience running a sect,” Lan Xichen told Nie Mingjue, who raised his eyebrows. “Starting immediately. I promise to allow you to leave when Jingyi is, oh, shall we say five years old..?”

You could reason with a five year old.

Nie Mingjue laughed.

It was a type of laugh that suggested that he thought Lan Xichen was making a joke. This was incorrect.

“You’d be amazed at how serious I am,” Lan Xichen told him threateningly, “I’m sect leader here, this is my territory, I can have you arrested any time –” but by that point Nie Mingjue was already bundling him off to bed, too, combing out his hair and plying him with snacks and –

This was not helping his argument that Lan Xichen should be allowing him to leave rather than keep him trapped in the Cloud Recesses as a babysitter-slash-love-slave.

Well, he wouldn’t really do that, of course. He’d let him go. Eventually.

It’d probably be good for Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, honestly.

“Seriously, though, how did you do that?�� he asked, his head on Nie Mingjue’s lap. “They didn’t cry once.”

“I’m good with kids,” Nie Mingjue said, his fingers digging into Lan Xichen’s scalp in just the right way. “Now can you explain to me how exactly you ended up with them? Two, no less?”

Lan Xichen groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. “Sizhui’s Wangji’s,” he explained. “Not biologically, but he’s put his name down in the family register under his own. But, you know…”

“I know.”

Lan Xichen appreciated that he didn’t need to go into it. The doctors had estimated that Lan Wangji would regain full mobility within three years, so that was the period the elders had mandated for his so-called ‘seclusion’, but with Lan Wangji being locked away like that – even with visitors, even though he was trying his hardest to care for the child from where he was – meant that someone had to care for the child’s day-to-day life until his brother was ready to resume the role.

“Jingyi is a cousin, I think,” he continued. “His parents are dead, and uncle accepted guardianship for him…I think he’s going to adopt him, actually.”

“Then why is he with you?”

“I volunteered.”

“Xichen, I say this with a full heart of affection and tremendous respect for your capabilities,” Nie Mingjue said. “But why in the world would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Lan Xichen sighed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t stupid – he was, quite obviously, terrible with children.

“Uncle’s still injured from the war,” he admitted. In fact, his injury was probably even older than the war, dating as far back as the burning of the Cloud Recesses – his uncle had never been much of a fighter, his impressive cultivation strength stemming almost entirely from gentler arts like music and learning and meditation, but when his home and his family and his students were at risk, he’d fought, while Lan Xichen ran. Not just fought; he’d kept fighting long past the point that his body allowed. It only made sense for the bill to need to be paid. “He had a recurrence of an old complaint, not long ago; he started coughing up blood. The doctors insisted that he try to avoid anything that might cause him stress.”

“Stress. Like, say, a rowdy infant?”

“Exactly like a rowdy infant,” Lan Xichen agreed, glad that Nie Mingjue did not mention that what had happened with Lan Wangji was also likely a source of stress. At least the two of them had slowly started to repair their relationship recently – the heartbreak would kill their uncle sooner than anything else, and Lan Xichen might be weak, but he really couldn’t tolerate the idea of suffering any more loss.

And also, if Lan Wangji could see his way to forgiving their uncle, he might one day agree to forgive Lan Xichen, too.

“I see. So you ended up with the little one, too.”

“Yes. And they hate me.” Nie Mingjue coughed a little. “No, don’t deny it. They clearly hate me. They always cry and spit and yell -”

“They’re children, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. “Traumatized children. They do that.”

Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Nie Mingjue was frowning in memory of pain long past. Lan Xichen remembered, with painful clarity, how young Nie Huaisang had been when Lao Nie had died, how badly he had taken it.

There’d been a lot of crying and vomiting and yelling there as well.

“You’re good with kids,” Lan Xichen said instead of commenting, trading delicacy for delicacy; he would not touch Nie Mingjue’s still-bleeding wounds just as Nie Mingjue avoided his own. “Very good.”

“Well, I like to think so, anyway.”

They remained in blissful, comfortable silence for a while.

“How would it have even worked?” Lan Xichen finally asked. His eyes were still closed, Nie Mingjue’s fingers running through his hair; he never wanted to move again.

“Hmm?”

“If you knocked me up before you went to war. I mean, they’re not even the same age.”

“Well, one of them’s from the affair, obviously.”

“I’m sorry, am I cheating on you now?” Lan Xichen opened an eye and pinned Nie Mingjue with a fierce look that instructed his lover to reconsider.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, mock-solemnly. His eyes were dancing. “You were so distraught after receiving incorrect news of my untimely demise that you conducted a ghost marriage with my spirit, and then went and had a child to continue my name.”

“…they’re both surnamed Lan.”

“So what? Are you saying I’m not good enough to marry into your sect, is that it?”

Lan Xichen’s cheeks were hurting from trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of implying such a thing.”

“There you go, then.”

“Can I ask why I felt the need to have a child to continue your name if I had one already?”

“…well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lan Xichen burst out laughing.

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie mingjue #nielan #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #my fic #my fics #whistling brook #I know this doesn't quite match the prompt #but it ended up fitting in perfectly with the previous ficlet #walburgablack

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nightashes · 3 years

Text

The Alliance Sucks, the Rebellion’s Not Much Better, but at Least We Have Each Other

A/N: Yes. I know it’s a crazy long title. Fight me. Shortened title: At Least We Have Each Other. Longer title: the alliance sucks, the rebellion’s not much better, but at least we have each other (and some guns). This is a discord gift for @sometimes-love-is-enough. I hope you enjoy! This is the longest one-shot I have written so far! woot woot!

Summary: Being a criminal in space is difficult. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility is worse. Being a criminal in space that just pulled a job on a government facility and somehow picked up a stowaway is a recipe for disaster. Luckily this crew specializes in disasters.

Meet the Crew:

Janus: the Captain. He can demand respect and obedience with nothing more than a glare.

Virgil: the pilot and emergency medic.. He’s no doctor but he’s gotten the crew through a fair amount of scrapes.

Roman: the second-in-command. He helps Virgil out in navigation and generally makes sure the ship runs smoothly and is always fully stocked with everything they could possibly need.

Remus: he’s the muscle and he makes sure the ship never remains stocked.

And of course Patton: the engineer. Without him this ship would be nothing more than a crappy piece of modern art.

Warnings: an assortment of weapons, a kid with a gun, blood, violence, explosions, almost major character death

writing masterlist - ao3 version

***

The thrum of the engine was a constant backdrop. It was the hiss of a living breathing machine. More than a sound, the vibrations were a blanket laid over them, an understanding of protection. The engine was awake and they were finally on the move. As long as they were moving, they were safe. Janus walked along the corridor, his gloved hand passing over the metal walls, feeling the buzz of the engine beneath his fingertips. He quirked a smile.

In the distance he could hear the shouts of his crew, arguing passionately. It seemed there was always something to argue about with them and Janus hardly did much to prevent it. If it went too far, he would step in and knock some sense into them. But in the end, this is just how they were. They resolved everything with a passionate debate. Everything .

The door to his room slid open at the touch of his hand. He swept off his overcoat and settled heavily onto his bed. It had not been an easy job. They would have to lie low for a while. Stealing from the Alliance was like that. Nothing but trouble. But at least they would get paid. And any chance to stick it to those government lackeys was a welcome one as far as he was concerned. For now all he wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off his boots and sliding out of his suspenders, Janus collapsed back onto his pillow.

“Dim the lights, Serenity.” He mumbled to the ship’s AI, already drifting off to sleep.

Bang!

“Janus! They won’t let me-”

“Janus! You can’t let Remus hurt-”

“Janus! We need your help. There’s-”

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Janus yanked open the door.

Glaring down at his crew, even with his ruffled hair and wrinkled shirt he cut an intimidating figure. His eyes bored into their souls, shutting down any ideas of speaking out of turn.

“One at a time you will explain to me what is wrong in as few words as possible. Virgil, you first.”

“Roman found a stowaway. He’s with him now.”

“A stowaway. Fantastic. Just what we needed.” The captain spat. “Remus?”

“Obviously, we should just toss the little squirt out into space. But no one here will let me.”

Janus turned to the last one there. “And I suppose that’s why you’re upset, Patton?”

“He’s just a kid.” The empathetic engineer practically pleaded.

“Where is he?”

“Storage. Roman found him while securing the prototype.” Virgil explained.

“So the kid’s seen what we have. More wonderful news .” He drew his hand down his face with a sigh. “Alright, you three stay here. I’ll go figure this out.”

***

Roman was sitting on the floor, his katana had been drawn and set aside behind him. He was talking in a low voice to the kid. Across from him, the stowaway sat with his back ramrod straight as his fingers played with the laces of his shoe. The kid was nervous but trying his best to hide it. Whatever Roman was saying the kid wasn’t responding.

Janus rapped the wall with his knuckles. The kid whipped his head around to face him. There was an intelligence in those eyes. He stared with a calculating gaze that was unusual for one so young. He was dressed smartly, wearing pressed slacks and a vest, obviously a child of wealth. Now what would lead a kid of status to stowaway on a ship of thieves?

“Ah, Captain. Good thing you're here. He won’t speak to anyone but you.” Roman spoke, trying his best to keep his voice calm and even, an usual occurrence for the boisterous first mate.

“You’re the captain?” The child asked, unimpressed.

“No, I’m the cook. Everyone calls me Captain because if they don’t I’ll spit in their food.” Janus whispered conspiratorially.

The kid squinted his eyes in suspicion and confusion. “You are being dishonest.”

A stowaway that didn’t understand sarcasm, this would certainly be interesting. “You’re right. I am being dishonest. You’ve figured it out, I am the captain. And now I need you to answer my questions. Can you tell me why you’ve decided to stowaway on my ship?”

The kid looked between the two of them, he tried to speak with confidence but there was a spark of fear hidden within his eyes. Janus wondered if Roman could see it too.

“I want to join you.” The kid spoke simply.

Roman raised his brow and Janus could not hold back a chuckle. The kid tightened his fists, preparing himself for a debate. “I’m smart. I can solve problems and help map out battle plans better than anyone in my class.”

“I’m sure you can, kid,” Janus shook his head incredulously. “But you see we don’t really have any need for a battle tactician. And as for plans and problems, no one can beat my second-in-command here.” Janus clapped his hand around Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s true. If he brought you on, I might grow jealous.” Roman smirked.

“Well, then I could join another ship. One that needs me.” The kid refused to be persuaded.

The captain sighed. Alright, the straight-forward approach. “Look, you aren’t joining a ship of smugglers and thieves. We won’t take you and there is no way I’m letting you join any other ship. You’d be killed in a month. Why don’t you tell me where your home is and we can drop you off?”

“Smugglers? I thought-” The kid’s fear was unmistakable now. “I may have made a miscalculation.”

“Did you now?”

“You’re not with the rebellion?”

“Most definitely not.”

“You attacked the Northern Outpost on Galiero. Why would you do that if you are not with the rebellion?”

“Ah, see… we can’t really tell you about that. But-”

The kid was not listening, scanning the room he pointed to the prototype, cutting Janus off, “It’s because of that. Isn’t it?’

The prototype sat beside a smuggling hold. It was a large piece of machinery, all sharp edges and mysterious buttons, waiting patiently to be hidden snuggly away, the same hold that the kid must have found and stowed away in. They would need to reevaluate their hidden compartments if a kid could find them.

The kid continued, “If you’re smugglers, then you can take me to the rebels. I can pay you.”

“We’re not taking you to any rebels,” Roman asserted. “We’re taking you home. To your family.”

“My family is gone.” The kid spat out venomously. “It was just my dad and I. And then the Alliance took him away. They said his books were spreading ‘treasonist ideologies.’ They took him away and forced me into a new family. I’m not going back there. I’m joining the rebellion and I’m going to destroy the Alliance.”

There was a pause of silence. Janus and Roman gave each other a meaningful look. “Alright, we won’t take you home,” Janus finally proclaimed. “Roman, why don’t you take the kid here and find him something to eat?”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

“Will you take me to the rebellion?” The kid questioned, refusing to leave without a confirmation.

“Of course, kid.” At that moment, Janus was thankful that the kid couldn’t understand sarcasm.

“It’s Logan. Logan Sanders.” Their stowaway clarified as he allowed himself to be led away.

The captain sighed heavily. He needed to speak with his pilot.

***

“You want to what?” Virgil nearly yelled.

“I want to rescue the boy’s father from the Alliance prisons.”

“You’re insane! You’ve lost it! The Captain’s lost it and we are all going to die!”

“Virgil, calm down. We can do it, as long as we play it smart.”

“No!” Virgil shook his head. “No, there is no ‘playing this smart.’ We are running hot right now. We have a stolen prototype in our storage that the Alliance would happily kill us to regain and now we have a kid on board to worry about! Going anywhere near Alliance space right now is suicide. We need to be heading to the outer planets as fast as our jets can carry us.”

“I know. But we aren’t. Logan needs his father. Or would you rather we hand him over to the rebellion so they can use him as cannon fodder?”

Virgil hissed out a curse. “You can’t do that. You can’t just do that. Guilting me into this madness...” He muttered as he began angrily punching in codes into the panel.

“Thank you, Virgil.”

“If we die, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I know.” Janus answers.

The pilot sighed as the computer beeped back at him. “Remy thinks he can figure out where the kid’s father would have been taken. Last name Sanders, right? We can start heading to the center planets now while he does his thing. It’ll take a couple days, we’ll need to go through the Mirdian belt if we want to avoid detection. By the time we arrive, Remy should have all the info we need to get ourselves killed on a rescue mission.”

“ Perfect. I’ll let the others know.”

***

The kid was pacing. The kid was pacing a lot and it was driving Remus up the wall. Back and forth. Back and forth, the kid walked. Glancing this way and that and generally being a distracting nuisance. Remus was sitting at the table, attempting to clean one of his guns in peace. He loved to tinker with his weapons in the kitchen. Best way to work and devour snacks all at once. Patton hated it of course. But Patton was busy helping Virgil. Something about making sure their approach to the planet didn’t trip off any sensors. All Remus knew was that he was supposed to have the kitchen to himself to prepare for the mission. But now there was a kid here. A kid he was not allowed to eject into space. Which Remus considered a travesty. At least the kid being here meant they were going to break into a prison! Remus has always wanted to break into a prison, ever since he and Roman had run away from home looking for adventure. And now he had his chance. He was ready to go. His skin was buzzing in excitement and he was making sure all of his precious babies were loaded and ready for a fight. But his perfect happy bubble was being ruined by pacing.

“Would you just sit down already!” Remus hollowered at the kid. Logan glanced his way unimpressed and continued to pace.

Remus grumbled in distaste. The kid was suspicious of them, Remus knew it. He may not be able to read body language like Janus, but the kid was definitely suspicious. Remus wasn’t sure how or when but sometime during their trip Logan had figured out they were heading the wrong way to meet up with the rebellion. And now he was pacing. Janus didn’t want them to tell Logan their plans. Something about getting his hopes up. Whatever the reason, it was complete bull. And Remus would know. He specialized in bullcrap.

The kid was pacing. Pacing and planning. An unpredictable plan from an unknown variable meant chaos. Remus liked chaos. But he also liked his friends. And a plan like that, on a mission like this, could get his friends killed.

“Hey kid, you want to know a secret?”

Logan stared back at Remus, silently… waiting.

“We aren’t heading towards the rebellion.” Remus grinned deviously.

There was a pause. Logan searched Remus’s face, looking for who knows what. “You’re taking me to the Alliance. You’re turning me in for clemency. Aren’t you?”

“Hah!” Remus barked out a laugh. “Turning you in for clemency? Hell no! We may not be with the rebellion but our hate for the Alliance runs just as deep.”

“Then why aren’t you with them? Why not help them fight?” Logan’s curiosity was struck.

“Because the rebellion is totally insane! And not in the fun way if you know what I mean?” Logan gave him a look that told Remus he, in fact, did not know what he meant. Remus continued, “They’re one of those defeat-the-evil-empire-by-any-means-necessary types. They believe in their own bullcrap. Trust me, kid, you don’t want to work for them.”

“What are you going to do with me then?” Logan pressed.

“We’re going to do something insane. And I do mean insane in the fun way.” Remus winked conspiratorially.

“That does nothing to reassure me.” Logan deadpanned, which caused Remus to let loose a big belly laugh. The sound bouncing around the kitchen.

“You’re alright, kid,” wiping away a tear of mirth, Remus chuckled. “Hey, come over here.” he gestured towards the table, where an assortment of his weapons had been laid out. “We’re going to be leaving in a minute to have our fun. It’ll just be you and Patton on the ship while we’re out. Nothing should happen, but just in case why don’t you take Linda here.” He shoved a small laser gun into the kid’s hands. “She’ll take care of you if any of the insanity comes this way, Alright?”

Logan stared down at the gun in his hands. His brow knitted together in confusion, but when he looked up there was gratitude in his eyes. He nodded his understanding.

A cough came from the doorway. Remus looked up to find the Captain standing in the entrance, looking with fondness at the scene in front of him. “Well, I hope I’m not interrupting. Just thought I’d let you know we’ll be touching down now.” Janus explained, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Remus, meet me in the hold once you’ve finished. Patton will be here in a minute to take care of the kid. Said something about making you guys a hot sugary drink. That should be fun, right kid?”

Logan stared back at the Captain. His fingers feeling the weight of the weapon in his hands. He positioned himself and raised the gun, aiming it directly at the Captain’s face. His eyes were cold and his hands barely shook. “If you betray me I’ll shoot you.”

Remus smiled mischievously as Janus shot him a look of disbelief, “What did you teach him?”

“Nothing, Cap. This is all him! The kid’s a natural.”

Janus wisely decided to drop it at that. “Just pack up your things and meet me down there.”

“Righty-o, Boss Man!” Remus waved to Janus’s departing back before turning back to his new friend. “Alright, we won’t be seeing each other until nightfall. But don’t you worry, nothing’s gonna harm you. You're under my protection now, like a little chaos apprentice.” He gave a big toothy grin. “And when I have your back nothing bad will ever happen to you. Got it?”

The kid grips the weapon in his hands. “You won’t tell me what you are doing?”

“Nah, Cap wants to keep it a surprise. But trust me, you’ll love it!”

“Alright, I trust you.”

***

It was dusty, so very dusty. The wind blew it everywhere. Beneath the scarves wrapped around their faces. Crusting over the glass of their goggles. And filling their boots, as they dragged their feet further and further through the dunes. Virgil shouldered his pack higher, trying his best to adjust whatever was poking harshly into his back. The pack was heavy, filled to the brim with ammo for whatever Remus had brought along. The pack pulled his weight deeper into the sand with each and every step. They had landed several klicks away from the prison, better to go undetected until they were ready for a fight. But this meant a hike. A hike carrying bulging packs full of everything they will need for the mission ahead.

The sun was clouded. Obscured by the grit blowing around them. But the heat was real. Virgil could feel the sweat beading down his back. Drops pooled around his hairline, dripping into his scarf. Virgil desperately ached to wipe them away. But he knew it would only make the situation worse, covered as his hands were with dust.

As evening neared, they finally arrived within striking distance of the prison. They settled down to wait. Munching on protein packs and chugging water from their skins. Janus passed around an old communicator. A flashing mugshot hovered there from all to see.

Their Captain crouched down beside them, speaking as clearly and precisely as he could. “Thomas Sanders. Civilian. Divorced. Father of one and author of the banned book: The Lost Art of Community . He was arrested half a lunar cycle ago for perpetuating treasonist ideologies. Remy has provided us with a map of the building and yard. The asset will be held within solitary confinement.”

Virgil swiped through the communicator. Seeing the images zoom pass, sure enough a map popped up. An area colored yellow, stood out from the rest: solitary confinement. Virgil mumbled to himself, repeating what he saw, forcing the images into his memory.

“We’ll be doing a Surprise Secret,” Janus continued. “Remus and Roman, you’ll cover the Surprise. Virgil and I will take care of the Secret. Understood?”

Words of confirmation echoed out.

“Alright, begin your preparations. At dusk, we strike.”

***

The sky was beginning to darken. The signal would come any minute now. Virgil thought to himself as he lay on his stomach, he shifted to ensure the katana did not dig into his stomach. Roman had been kind enough to lend it for their mission. Virgil scanned the prison through his binoculars. He couldn’t see the twins, there happened to be a building in the way, but he knew they were there. On the other side, readying their surprise. It had to be soon. Any minute now. Virgil shifted nervously.

Janus laid a hand on his shoulder, “Virgil, it’ll be okay. We’ve done this before. Only difference is: now the asset is a person. We’ve got this.”

Virgil sighed heavily, “There’s a lot more different than that. It’s-”

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Time to go. They shot to their feet, sprinting towards the prison. The firefight had begun.

***

Remus was having the time of his life. Guards were pouring out of the front of the building, firing frantically at their position. But Roman and Remus were smuggly secured in a foxhole they had prepared for this very reason. They let loose a torrent of fire upon the building. Doing their best to be as loud as possible. Truly, this was the best job of their life. And all they had to do now was draw as much attention as possible, while not getting killed. Easy peasy.

Roman yelled, “Reload!” Beside him. Ducking down to grab ammunition from one of the packs that lay open in their hole.

Remus screamed as he laid down cover fire. “Eat lasers, ya little piggies!!”

A shot whizzed past his ear. Remus ducked his head a little lower. Whoa! That was close. His eyes were wide and his smile couldn’t possibly grow wider. This was living the dream. Roman patted his shoulder signaling he was ready. And together they rose again. Firing an array of blazing lasers down at the swarming guards streaming from the compound beneath them.

***

Virgil and Janus had made it onto the roof. No one had noticed them yet. Roman and Remus were truly doing a fantastic job of drawing everyone’s attention. Still, Virgil couldn’t help but worry. His gut twisted at the thought that his two crewmates were fighting against an entire prison worth of guards with nothing but their position, their weapons, and their skill to protect them.

He had long since abandoned the religion of his home planet. But as he skittered the edges of the cell block, seeing the lights of the lasers paint the horizon like a violent sunset. For the first time in years he felt the urge to wish. To wish that the great being of fate that pulled on the strings of the universe, fighting for the balance of destruction and creation, really was real. Somewhere outside of their dimension, pulling on the strings and maybe just maybe, ensuring that they would make it out okay. That the balance fell on their side today.

Virgil ran low across the roof, Janus followed closely behind in his footsteps. They glided across the blacktop, weaving between obstacles and doing their best to hide whenever possible. Against the darkened sky, they were but a pair of dancing shadows. While the front of the building was lit up in an array of lights and screams, a display of dazzling laser fire. On the roof, all was silent and dark.

He whispered to himself, repeating the layout of the map. East, a little further. They were close. So very close. Roman and Remus just had to hold on a little bit longer. Janus whipped out a thermal reader, readying himself. They had arrived at the section for solitary confinement.

The thermal reader lit up softly, Janus shifted his coat to hide the light as best as he could. Moving right and left, he worked his way across the roof. Virgil had brought out his own, starting at the other end of the section, he crouched low over the screen, he appeared as a hovering figure, coasting his way over the building, moving eerily similar to a predator. A beast-like crouch reminiscent of the predators of Loskor searching the ground for hidden Storles’s burrows.

A call broke his concentration. Janus gestured him over. Sure, enough his screen was filled with the image of red. A humanoid figure pacing in the cell below. Virgil pulled out Roman’s katana. At the push of a button, the blade pulsed red. He steadied his stance, holding the blade firmly in his fist, Virgil pushed it down into the blacktop of the roof. The blade hissed, sparks flew, spitting gravel into the air. Virgil pushed further, fighting against the force. On Janus’s screen, the figure was stock-still and squirreled away into a corner, the body stared up at the ceiling, watching their progress. Virgil pulled the blade across. Slowly, he moved around, forming the rough shape of a rounded box. He removed the katana and extinguished the fire. Now, came the tricky part. Thankfully, the figure appeared content to stay in the corner.

Virgil kicked down forcibly onto the weakened rooftop. The cut-out shape moved an inch inward, creating a large person-sized depression in the otherwise smooth surface. Sturdy sucker. Virgil kicked again.

The chunk of rooftop collapsed into the cell below, spraying chunks of rock across the frightened prison. He stared up at them through the hole. Through the dust and dirt, Virgil could make out the face of their target, Thomas Sanders.

“Your son, Logan, is waiting for you,” Janus caught the attention of the prisoner. “Ready to go?”

“My son?” Thomas asked, dumbstruck.

Virgil lay down on the roof at the edge of the hole. Reaching down into the cell, his fingers stretching towards the prisoner. “We have to go now! Grab on.”

Thomas glanced between them, searching their faces in a similar fashion to the way Logan often would. Satisfied with what he saw, he jumped to catch Virgil’s outstretched palm. Virgil groaned under the force of a grown man hanging from his arm, but he managed to hang on. He pulled his arm up. Janus came round and offered his own hand out to the man. Once they had a hold on each of his arms, they worked together. Pulling the man up and out of the darkened prison cell. They collapsed against the rooftop, huffing.

“Time to break radio silence.” Janus spoke. Yanking a communicator from his belt, he brought it up to his lips. “The secret is done. Time for the final surprise.”

The communicator crackled noisily. The sounds of static and explosion pouring through. A voice broke through the noise. “Final surprise incoming. Brace for impact.”

Virgil jumped to his feet, pulling the prison to standing position. “There’s going to be a big blast. When it happens we’ve got to run to the edge of the roof as fast as we can. You understand?”

The prisoner nodded his head, frantically. Clearly, this man was out of his depths. But he seemed focused and ready to listen. And right now, that’s all they needed.

The building shook violently. The front of the prison crumbled inward slightly as a bright ball of light stung their eyes.

“To the front! Now!” Janus yelled.

The trio ran.

***

The firefight was really starting to get exciting, Remus thought. Their foxhole was taking heavy damage and their ammunition was beginning to run low. They had to wrap this up soon if they wanted to get off this hellhole-of-a-planet unscathed. Although getting a little scathed was alright in Remus’s opinion. One can never have too many battle scars, afterall. In truth, Remus never really feared injury, not for himself at least. If the personification of death came strolling up to Remus one day, he’d probably greet him to a challenge of arm wrestling, just to see who was stronger, of course. Now, if death came for someone else, someone Remus cared about, that was another story. And so when the call from Janus came in, Remus was happy to say that thing’s seemed to be working out.

Remus set up the support stand as Roman answered, “Final Surprise incoming, brace for impact.”

From the last pack, the one that had laid unopened during the battle, Remus pulled out, what he affectionately called, The Final Surprise. A missile laser launcher that could fire a laser bolt big enough to put a hole through a military class transporter. This was going to be fun! He set it in place on the support stand and lined up his shot. Aiming for the front of the prison, his smile grew wider. The line of guard’s that had formed to fight off the “invasion” had no idea what was about to come their way.

Remus fired the Final Surprise. So named because in life there is only one final surprise.

The front of the building exploded in fire. The frame shook. The doors had been blasted off. Prisoners had been freed. And now the guards were fighting a battle on two fronts.

Remus began hurriedly packing up whatever supplies they would have the time to take. Roman took to laying down cover fire. As he packed, he took to watching the building attentively. Looking for the three figures that were currently sprinting across the rooftop. He spotted their silhouettes as they neared the building’s front. All three were there. They were safe.

Over the cacophony of battles cries and weapons firing, a new sound was heard. The thrum of an engine. Most importantly the thrum of the engine of their ship. It roared violently, the buzz of a thousand hornets that was felt deep in the bones. The ship tore through the air and came to hover directly behind them. The door had been lowered, open and ready for them to enter.

“Ready to board?” Roman shouted to his brother.

Remus was clutching the Final Surprise to his chest. The packs had been piled onto his shoulders, two to an arm. He felt positively giddy. They left their foxhole behind and jumped aboard. The guards that weren’t fighting prisoners had shifted to fire upon the ship. It was time to leave.

“We’re on! Move to the rooftop.” Roman radioed Patton.

The ship rose higher, coming level to the rooftop. It soared over the heads of the guard. The ship rattled as it took laser fire to its hull. The trio watched them as they flew in closer. Virgil jumped aboard first. Running in to hug the twins.

“God, we’re alive!” He cheered.

Janus and the prisoner jumped together. The captain steadying the civilian. He helped him through the door and safely inside the ship’s storage.

Everyone was here. They were safe. They had successfully completed a prison break!

The ship began to rise from the building. The door was beginning to close when Remus saw it.

The prison had launched their own ship. A prison transport. It had limited weapon capabilities. But their ship was already taking fire. They couldn’t risk it.

Remus was still holding onto the Final Surprise. There wasn’t anytime to set up the support stand. He dropped the packs and slammed his fist against the button to hold open the door. The others looked his way in shock as he squared up on the half-closed ramp. He hefted the Final Surprise against his shoulder. The transport ship came into his crosshairs. Remus fired.

There is a reason that the Final Surprise requires a support stand to fire. The recoil. The laser bolt left the launcher. It blasted through the crack in the open door. And Remus, he was thrown back. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the prisoner transport explode into a mess of shrapnel.

What a way to end a prison break.

***

The dreadful thing about having a surprise stowaway on board, is that other things fall to the wayside. Janus knew he had meant to give the order to hide away the prototype. But with planning a prisoner break, dealing with a child that was too smart for his own good, and trying their best to fly to a prison planet without being detected: They had just never gotten around to it.

Janus watched in horror as Remus was thrown across the ship’s storage and directly into the path of the prototype. His body smacked against its side. And blood pooled across his shirt. The crew rushed to his side. Janus barking orders to give him space.

Janus didn’t even know what the prototype did. He had just been hired to steal it. The customer was paying well and it was a chance to stick it to the Alliance. He had jumped at the chance. Now, he stood beside his bleeding crewmate. Someone had passed him a wad of gauze, probably Virgil. He was pressing them the best he could to the wound, working around the projectile. For Remus had been impaled upon a metal protrusion on the device.

Virgil was frantic. He had brought out the first aid kit and was doing what he could. But none of them knew what to do with a wound like this. How could they? They were smugglers, not doctors.

“Virgil, Patton needs you.” Janus stared at their frantic pilot.

Virgil wordlessly shook his head no.

“You need to fly us out of here.”

“He needs help.” Virgil argued.

“And what are you going to do here? We’ve got him. But right now, we need you to get us out of here. Patton doesn’t know how to leave a planet’s atmosphere. If you don’t pilot this ship we all die. And it will be your fault.” Janus's voice was as cold as stone. It was times like these that he knew why he had become their Captain. To be a Captain, meant at times you had to be cruel.

And the look Virgil shot him as he left. He knew he would pay for what he had said. But at least, they would survive. Janus could feel the blood pool around his hands. Well, most of them.

Roman was at his side now. He gripped his brother’s hand in his own. “Remus. Remus, wake up. You’ve got to wake up.”

“I’m sorry, Roman.” The captain spoke. “Are there any death rites on your planet?”

“No.” A shout came from behind them. Janus turned his head to see the stowaway. His arms were raised, just as had they had been this morning. The gun Remus had given him was held firmly in his hands. “You have to save him.”

“I’m sorry, kid. There’s nothing we can do.”

“YOU HAVE TO!” He shouted. His father crouched beside him. Whispering and trying to coax the weapon from his hands.

Logan shoved his father’s arms away. “The rebellion! Take him to the rebellion! They’ll save him!”

Roman lifted his head to look at the kid, “I would never take him back there. You don’t know what they’re like. When we left… when we found this ship, we promised we’d never return to them.”

“But… but… he can’t just die! He said he’d protect me!”

“There’s another way,” Thomas spoke. “The Alliance, the Rebellion. They aren’t the only people out there. There are others that can help.”

“What do you mean?” Roman asked, hope tinting his words.

“I was jailed for a book about community. Because in community is where our strength lies. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. There are others like me. Spread out throughout the universe, on every planet. If you showed me a map, I could take us to someone nearby. People that can help. People that help not because they want to use you for their own ends, but because they want to help. Because they believe in community.”

Janus looks to Roman. The twin nodded his head. Janus spoke, “Logan, could you show your father to the cockpit.”

Janus hated the Alliance. They were cruel. The rebellion wasn’t much better. But perhaps, with each other, with this community and the family that they had found on this ship, they could make it. They could survive. And maybe. Just maybe if this plan was just crazy enough to work. They could save Remus too.

Janus pressed a kiss to Remus’s forehead. “Don’t worry. We’re here for you.”

***

Remus awoke wrapped in warmth. The sounds of laughter and chattering voices drifted to his ears. He could hear his brother, his voice loud and boisterous. He was telling a story of their childhood. The time they had stolen a whole pie from the baker and eaten the entire thing in one afternoon. There was the giggle of a child. Logan? His captain spoke next, Janus making some sarcastic comment. Patton admonished the captain. He could hear the smirk in Virgil’s voice, as the pilot joined in.

Was everyone here? Had they all made it?

Remus opened his eyes. He was in bed. Not his bunk but an actual bed, in an actual bedroom. His crew sat in chairs around him. There was a beam of sunlight streaming in through a window. They weren’t on the ship. Where were they?

“Hey sleepy guy, welcome back!” Patton cooed.

His brother reached out his hand and squeezed his shoulder. “Looks like you got your wish, bro. A real-life prison break. But I’m telling you now, we are never doing that again.”

The chaotic twin grinned at his family. He looked down at his bandaged chest and then back to his loved ones, “it was totally worth it.”

Virgil looked about ready to punch him for that comment. But Logan beat him to it, slapping his arm only somewhat playfully, “You are never allowed to do something like that again. Ever again! Okay?” He commanded.

“Aw, alright... But only because there is still so much I want to teach you.”

Logan nodded his head in acknowledgement, “As long as you allow me to teach you about basic safety!”

“Oh, I like this kid.” Virgil chuckled.

And soon everyone had joined in. Sharing stories all about his lack of basic self-preservation instincts.

***

Janus watched as his crew delighted in Remus’s return to the land of the conscious. Turns out Thomas had been right, together they could survive.

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#sanders sides #janus sanders #all the sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #kid!logan #sanders sides fic #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #my writing

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creepy-spooghetti · 3 years

Text

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 7 - I’m On My Way

With fatigue, she leans on the wall for support and stands, weakly stumbling to the sink, refusing to look at her reflection in the mirror as she bends over and turns the faucet on. She gets soap from the dispenser on her palm and rubs both of her hands together before holding them under the water to rinse them, and immediately after that, sticks her face underneath, hoping to rid herself of the foul taste still very present in her mouth.

She spits minuscule pieces of undigested food into the sink, letting the cool water run over and wash them down the drain without another thought. The sickening stench of bile sitting in the porcelain bowl almost has her gagging once more, so she reaches over, pushes on the little silver lever, and flushes it down into the sewer pipes, never to be seen again.

Only then does she look at herself in the reflecting glass hung over the sink, not surprised when she sees dark bags under her eyes and unnaturally pale skin, no doubt results from lack of sleep and getting hit by an extreme wave of nausea so suddenly. Her lip trembles from the exertion, her eyes distant, stressed wrinkles creasing her forehead. What is happening? Why is it happening? Why are such terrifying thoughts invading her subconscious each time she goes to sleep?

Perhaps she can blame this one on the news she received yesterday, but that doesn’t explain the strange symbol. Why would she draw such a thing? What does it even mean? And what about the buzzing noise? It’s accompanied each dream she’s had down here thus far, and it made itself apparent before and during she was heaving her lungs out yesterday. It also started when she saw that figure in the woods earlier. Is it connected to something?

She rubs at her eyes listlessly and pushes herself away from the sink at once, switching the light to the bathroom off and wandering back into the living room at a pace much slower than normal. Her eyes trail up from the floor to Marshmallow, who sits on the arm of the couch, eyes narrowed as he stares at her with dilated pupils. Maybe this should worry her; after all, animals can sense things that humans can’t. But she can’t bring herself to care very much. She just wants it all to stop. She doesn’t want to be sick 24\7, or have nightmares far worse than what’s considered healthy, or be on the look-out constantly for something that’s possibly hunting her down.

She flops onto the couch rather sluggishly and runs her hands through her messy hair, gaining sight of the large symbol that she seemingly sketched onto the paper for unknown reasons. Come to think of it, her hand is beginning to cramp due to how tightly she had been holding that pencil after she woke up, and who-knows-how-long before then. Does she have an illness? Is there medication to cure it? Should she go to a doctor and explain her symptoms? She’d prefer to wait and get medical attention, if it is necessary, once she returns home, so she won’t burden her grandparents with her problems and cause them to worry.

She knows for a fact that her parents wouldn’t give it much thought if she told them she needed to go to the doctor, nor would they be very concerned. If she told them the reason, having hallucinations, nightmares, irrational and paranoid thoughts, insomnia, they’d probably call her behavior ridiculous and refuse to allow her to make an appointment. Or would they? She is still their daughter— surely they couldn’t just brush aside something like that, right?

Then again, her father did it with the murder of his sister and the disappearance of his nephew, so she can’t ever be sure. But what about her mother? Isn’t the whole maternal instinct thing still there with her? If her child was hurt or scared, isn’t it natural to be worried?

She glances over at her phone, still sat on the coffee table charging, unable to rid herself of the sudden thought that creeps into her mind. Somebody to talk to would be nice. But would she actually listen?

Sure, her grandparents are just upstairs, but not only does she not feel like making that trek all the way to the second floor, but both her Nana and Pops are likely fast asleep. They've done more than enough for her already, and they have enough stress on their shoulders as it is. She wants to avoid troubling them with anything else and make them unnecessarily frantic about her health, both physical and mental.

Reaching out a hesitant, mildly trembling hand, she unplugs her phone and unlocks it, scrolling to contacts and swiping her thumb along the screen until she sees 'Mom'. Should she really? What if she disturbs her? Or wakes her up? Even if she did, that shouldn't be an issue once she hears about her daughter possibly having some mental illness that needs to be fixed.

Mental illness is a strong way to word it. She shakes her head, continuing to stare at the call icon that pops up once she clicks her mother's contact. It's just... stressed hallucinations. Or... or strange coincidences. Yeah, that's all.

Letting out a soft sigh, she presses the green button and brings the small device to her ear, hearing it ring several times as the anticipation in her heart grows. Is this a mistake? Should she back out? Maybe she's making a big deal over nothing.

"Hello?" She sucks in a sudden breath, heart rate increasing as the familiar voice meets her ear. How should she start this?

"Um... hi, Mom." Clear anxiety is present in her tone, though she hopes that it isn't as noticeable as she thinks.

"Y\n? What is it?" There's a hint of irritation hidden in that sentence, but the girl tries to ignore it and instead focuses on the reason she called her in the first place.

"Y-yeah, uh... I need to talk to you."

"About what? You know I'm busy. If it's more questions about your father, you know I—"

"No, Mom, it isn't about Dad." She's silent a moment as she hears her mother's soft breaths over the line, trying to collect her thoughts and put them into words. "It's... it's about me."

"...Well? Did you make another painting or something?"

She shakes her head, though she knows it can't be seen. "It's... weird things that have been happening to me. I-I don't know what's going on but it's really getting to me, and I feel sick and tired and stressed out. I don't know what to do."

"What exactly has been 'happening' to you, Y\n?" Her hand tightens slightly around her phone and she lets out an inaudible sigh.

"It started out with bad dreams... really bad dreams. Of people being dead, or freaky voices, or strange markings in a tree. A-and I've been seeing things in the middle of the night, or even in the day. I can't sleep because it's so scary and I'm afraid that when I go to sleep I'll have another nightmare..."

"Y\n," An exasperated sigh erupts from the other end. "aren't you a little too old to be scared of bad dreams or the boogeyman?" It's as if a knife is shoved into her chest from the harsh words of her mother, and she fights the tears stinging her eyes, attempting to keep her voice steady.

"Mom, it... i-it isn't like that."

"You used to complain to me all the time about bad dreams when you were a kid. You aren't a kid anymore, Y\n. You're almost seventeen."

"It's more serious than just dreams, Mom—"

"Grow up. You're a teenager, Y\n. Act like it." The girl swallows hard and lands her hard gaze on the floor, unable to stop the tears from slowly rolling down her cheeks.

"You're not even listening to me!" She keeps her voice in a whisper but raises it slightly to make sure she gets the older woman's attention. "This isn't some stupid childhood fear. It's something bad, and it's really affecting me..."

"I don't have time for this. I have about a weeks' worth of papers stacked up on my desk and I have to do them. You'll get over yourself eventually and stop being so childish. Goodbye, Y\n." Before she can say anything else, a beep is heard before the line goes dead, signifying that her mother hung up. What else was she expecting? Sympathy? Concern? Reassurance? She should've known better.

"Fine," she snaps, slamming her phone down on the couch beside her and releasing a huff, "who needs you anyway?" She plants her face into the palms of her hands to stifle the quiet whimpers emanating from between her lips. "I have myself and that's all I need. You're just a... a useless, irresponsible, incompetent piece of crap for a mom." Her fingers run through her h\c locks and she shakes her head, trying to compose herself. "Why are you even a mom..."

Of course her mother would blow her off. Her very own flesh and blood, brush her aside as if she means nothing to her. It's what she's been doing for years now, so why would she expect any different? I'm stupid. I'm stupid for assuming she would be worried. She doesn't care about me. She just doesn't care. She never does.

Soon, her shoulders are shaking as sobs wrack her body. She has to go through this alone, doesn't she? Her parents won't help her, her grandparents don't need that kind of pressure. None of her friends, if she can even call them that anymore, can help her. And they wouldn't. She's the one that left them behind, and they owe her nothing.

She shakily stands to her feet, wiping away the tears with the back of her hands in order to clear up her vision so she doesn't trip over anything, and begins her ascent up the stairs, not caring to bring her phone and instead only turns off the lamp as she passes it by. She walks warily up the staircase, doing her best to avoid looking anywhere but the ground for fear of seeing something lurking in the darkness until she reaches her bedroom, thankful that the light was left on previously.

She's unsure if Marshmallow will even follow her this time and bring her some kind of company, though, considering the aggressive way he was acting just minutes ago, she highly doubts it. Her gaze falls onto her bed, then onto the window that it's attached to, unable to quell the rush of anxiety that goes through her chest. The last time she was in here, she saw... something. What was it? A trick of the light? No, surely not. It was too... strange to be a trick of the light. Not to even mention the droning that formed in her mind while she looked at it. The same kind of droning that was present in her dreams, and at the river with Jack.

Is this normal? If it was, you'd think there would be more talk about it. In blogs, on the news, in books. But she's seen no such thing. Shaking her head in dismay, she steps farther inside, edging her way toward the window and anticipating what may be standing on the other side of the glass. She takes in a deep breath, hoping to calm her nerves a bit and brace herself before peering around the corner, over past her bed, and straight through to the dark woods across from the cottage.

She scans the treeline, her heart rate slowing down when she doesn't find anything out-of-the-ordinary and releases a puff of air she didn't know she was holding in, her muscles relaxing slightly. Nothing. There's nothing, so maybe, she can actually go to sleep without having to worry about anything creeping around. She doesn't want to sleep, but she doesn't want to get sick, again, either. Although that may happen anyway if she has another unexplainably terrifying dream. She can only hope that she'll get lucky and her mind will give her a break, at least for the rest of the night.

She doesn't know what time it is, and she can't gather up the energy to check. It doesn't even matter, does it? She glances over at her lamp, silently debating on whether she should turn it off to both save electricity and hopefully hide her position to anything that may be waiting outside, or if she should leave it on to give her peace of mind. She hasn't really liked sleeping with the light on, not since she was a small child, but recently it's sounded a lot more comforting than being surrounded by pitch blackness, save for the moonbeams shining in through the window and spilling out onto the floor.

What's better, hiding or feeling safer? Maybe there's a way she can compromise and do both. Her eyes avert around the room, eventually landing on the closet across from where she's facing. Could she do that...? Wouldn't that corner her? But it would be safer than sleeping in front of a window where some cryptic being can plainly see me. She remembers seeing a couple of spare blankets folded up on a shelf, and she could use her pillows as both a headrest and a weak attempt at a barrier. As unappealing as it sounds, staying in clear view of whatever is currently trying to get into her head sounds even less so. Closet it is.

She steps over and opens the door, switching on the light and glimpsing around for a good, somewhat comfortable spot to take shelter in. Under the clothes? No, too tight. In the little cabinet of old, stored things belonging to her aunt? Again, too tight. She decides on the opposite end of the closet, in-between a shelf and the wall, not too cramped but not too open either. And she'd be able to see the door clearly. That'll work.

She grabs the two pillows from off of her bed, plus an oversized teddy bear that had been originally sitting in the corner of the room, untouched, and goes back into the walk-in storage room, placing all three items in her self-proclaimed area of safety, before also taking a folded-up blanket from the small stack and tossing it onto the pillows. She releases a yawn, blinking slowly afterward and shutting the door behind her prior to double-checking the room for anything else she may need, only finding her water bottle, and switches off the lamp.

She sets it on the floor and shifts around everything until it meets her intentions, dimming the overhead light on the lowest setting, then walks back over and sits down, wrapping the blanket around her b\t frame, leaning against the wall, and tucking the large stuffed bear into her side. This is good. She feels secure here. There is nothing that can get in here without her knowing about it first... unless it's a hallucination. Then she can't escape. "I guess that's where you come in, Fuzzy," she mutters, hugging the bear half her size to earn some type of reassurance and consolation she had failed to get from her mother.

She stares ahead of her, at the closed door, waiting to hear something. Waiting to hear the creak of floorboards or the stamp of footsteps, or see the knob to the door slowly twist as it swings open. But one minute passes, then two, then five, then eight. Nothing of the sort happens. She just stays there, her breathing leveling out the more time passes, and she finds herself becoming relaxed. Maybe she should sleep in a closet more often...

She snuggles into the soft, though mildly dusty, coat of the bear, inhaling its old, washed-out scent of vanilla and allowing her eyes to droop. "Protect me if the 'boogeyman' comes in here, alright?" Her voice comes out as no more than a whisper, indirectly mocking her mother's previous choice of words to describe her state before fluttering her eyes closed and drifting off into a surprising, though thankfully peaceful, sleep.

___

His footsteps are almost inaudible as he walks through the darkened forest, his senses heightened due to the gloom around him. He's always more active at night, and it's been that way since... well, since the incident took place, all that long ago. Or was it even that long ago? He supposes it feels longer than what it actually is, probably because off of everything that's happened the past few years. But in reality, it's only been, what... eight, nine years ago? He was only seventeen at the time, and physically, he always will be. If he had been able to fulfill his career choice and live a normal life without meeting her, then he would be around twenty-six.

Maybe he'd have a girlfriend, heck, maybe he'd have a wife, although becoming a doctor takes years of dedication so he doubts that he would have the time to put that much commitment into a relationship. Either way, he would be happy. He wouldn't have to worry about being hunted by some otherworldly entity, or stocking up on the less-than-desirable diet his body has unfortunately given him. He wishes he could have something normal for a change... like pizza. He would just about kill for some pizza, preferably supreme, but pepperoni would work, too.

He shakes his head in disregard at his own thoughts, knowing more than anyone that pizza wouldn't ever happen, just like enchiladas wouldn't happen, or cheese sticks, or even something simple like cereal. It isn't possible, and though he accepted that long ago, he still gets certain cravings for things he used to enjoy. If he even tried eating them, now, he'd be sick for a week. One of the many disadvantages of being him. If only, right?

He checks the map on his phone that Ben had sent him about two hours prior, the direction he was supposed to go marked with bright red ink and making it pretty hard to miss. Let's see, he already passed the river, and he knows she took a certain trail to get to it. Just which trail did she take? He would follow footsteps but there's too much grass obscuring the actual dirt beneath, and even though he can see to a point, his vision has still been drastically altered, so he can't make out any pristine details.

He makes a turn and comes across an overgrown area of the trail he's been sticking with, though it looks like it's already been walked through several times. Up ahead a few feet is what looks to be a dirt road and past that sits a quaint property with a white picket fence, a garden, and a gate. This is the place he's been searching for, right? Guess there's only one way to find out.

Will great stealth, he slinks out from behind the trees, creeping across the natural driveway and up to the house, where he hopes his target is currently resting inside. If she's awake, it would make his job quite a bit harder, and he doesn't want to take any lives if it's unnecessary. Once he's directly in front, he scans possible entry points that wouldn't draw attention. A window? Sure, if the front door isn't locked. He quietly jiggles the knob after opening the screen, only to find that yes, the door is locked. Just his luck, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't expecting it.

He peers in through the first window he sees on the bottom floor, quickly realizing that it leads to the living room. All of the lights are off, and it doesn't look like anybody is currently active. Releasing a silent breath from his nose, though instantly being hit with a familiar bout of hot air thanks to his mask, he slips his fingers beneath the rim, briefly tugging upward and being grateful when the window slides up without much struggle.

There's a table placed in front of it, but he can easily maneuver over that. Conquering obstacles is something that he's mastered over the years of breaking and entering other peoples' households, so one measly table shouldn't halt his process too much. With one hand, he holds the strap of his satchel that's been thrown over his shoulder in order to anchor it to his side to make sure it doesn't make any noise, and with the other, he grips the side of the wall, skillfully propping himself up and slipping through the now-open space lacking so much as a thud.

Once his feet hit the carpet beneath them, he does a quick one-eighty of the room, wanting to make sure he isn't disturbing anything by making his appearance, and closing the window when he deems the coast clear. She never mentioned anything about having a dog, or any other kind of pet when he talked to her, then again he didn't exactly ask her about it, either. Maybe he got lucky this time.

Thought too soon, Jack, he thinks as he finally notices the fluffy white feline perching on the back of the couch, ears folded back as it quietly growls at him. Of course it's a cat. It couldn't have been a bunny, a gerbil, or even a ferret, no. It had to be a freaking cat. When he was still human, he was never particularly fond of them, but now he hates them with a passion. They get under his feet when he's trying to work and trips him, they scratch and bite him, they latch on and it takes a lot of force to get them off. Granted, he can and does get rid of them pretty easily, but they're still obnoxious little creatures.

But he has to admit, as bad as cats are, dogs are even worse in these types of situations. At least cats stay quiet. Dogs, however, he can't get dogs to shut up. Especially little ones, like Chihuahuas and Pomeranians. God, those things love barking. How could anyone want to put up with something that isn't even cute barking constantly? He isn't Smile's biggest fan, but he puts his barking to use. And he never gets in his way. At least he can respect bigger dogs for that very reason because they actually protect rather than just yap all the time.

He huffs, brushing the insignificant thoughts aside and walking farther into the living room, ignoring the growls of protest from the cat attempting to defend its territory and making it very clear to Jack who this place belongs to. Not that he cares, he just wants to get in and back out without much trouble. As he passes the couch, something catches his attention. Not only is there a phone lying discarded on the cushion, but there also seems to be a pencil, and beside it is a sketchbook.

He leans down a bit to get a better look, seeing and instantly recognizing the large symbol drawn—or more like scribbled— on the piece of paper, completely overriding the original picture beneath it. Not much care seems to have been taken while it was being created, which is normal if it was made during the frantic state that he imagines it to have been made in. It's been apparent to him that Y\n was being greatly affected by him, but now she's to the point of drawing his symbol, his mark? That isn't good. His stomach does an uncomfortable flip, and he spins around, going up the staircase of the house after making sure there are no bedrooms down here with him.

The hallway on the second floor likely leads to various rooms, his only problem is looking discreetly into each one and identifying his target. He chooses to check the first door on the left, the door inexplicably wide open, only to find a nicer than average girly room. He assumes this to be where Y\n is sleeping, but to his slight surprise, he doesn't see her in the bed. Well... maybe she's staying elsewhere? But why would there be bags on the floor if there was nobody staying inside? Is this someone else's room?

He peeks back out into the hallway, seeing what he recognizes as a bathroom unoccupied right beside a closed door, likely one leading to another bedroom. And at the very end of the corridor is a door also closed. Which one of these rooms leads to her grandparents? Is he even in the right house? He has to be. Unless he's just conveniently landed himself in the home of another individual that's being mentally tormented by the ominous creature, which is highly doubtful. They would know about it.

He hears the sudden squeak of a door as it opens, and just barely catches a glimpse of a masculine figure stepping out into the hallway before he darts back into the previous bedroom, ducking for cover inside of what he assumes is a closet. He closes the door softly behind him, being careful not to make any sound whatsoever, and takes a step back, only just starting to notice the dim lighting around him. He tilts his head up, seeing a light bulb attached to the ceiling, and confirming that it's the source of the light. The question is, why would the closet light be on when virtually every other light in the house is turned off?

Looking back and into the small walk-in closet, he sees a figure curled up in the corner, bundled up in a blanket and hidden behind the clothes hanging in front of her. She's holding tightly onto what looks like a large teddy bear, her eyes are closed, and her breathing is mellow and steady. She's asleep. Good.

He's been getting to her. She must've thought the closet was safer than anywhere else. He eases closer to her, squatting down in front and making sure to not wake her up. Getting a better look at her face, he can tell that she most certainly is the girl he's been trying to find, and quietly opens his satchel, sticking his hand inside and pulling out a needle and a small, clear bottle of a powerful anesthetic. It isn't his go-to method, usually, he would use Midazolam or even Chloroform, but then again, he isn't currently trying to sedate one of his victims, he just wants to knock her out long enough to bring her back, all without harming her in the process.

He sticks the end of the needle into the lid of the glass container after properly sanitizing it, draws the correct amount needed for the injection, and puts the bottle back into the bag. He snaps his fingers in front of her face in order to test how deep of a sleep she's in. It would be hazardous if she woke up as the mediation was being given to her, it would also be mildly frustrating and make his job even more strenuous. Thankfully, her eyes don't even flutter, giving him the leeway he needs to lightly take her arm, twist it around, stretch it, and stick the end of the needle through her skin.

He notices when she flinches, but only slightly, and he begins to inject the sedative into her system. He had no trouble locating a blood vein, as he could hear the blood coursing through her arm from several feet away; yet another ability he possesses that makes people fear him. Most could compare him to a vampire, what, with his unnaturally sharp teeth and his constant craving for human blood. It isn't his fault, it never has been. But he's learned to accept it, no matter how disgusting it may be to others.

His intention is that it will keep her knocked out for around two hours, preferably four or five, in case he runs into any delays. This particular bottle of medicine is the only one he has that causes longer-lasting unconsciousness without any life-threatening symptoms, and he got it by mixing Propofol with another mild, over-the-counter drug with lengthy repercussions. Perhaps not the best thing to use, but oh well, it's all he has at his grasp. He isn't actually a doctor, no matter how much he may be treated like one.

He slides the needle out of her arm, places it into a Ziplock bag, and puts the bag into his satchel, looking down at her when he senses movement. She rubs the area that the drug was injected through, eyes only half-way open as she brings her arm up to her chest, likely wondering where the small twinge of pain came from so abruptly. He stays still, waiting to see if she'll notice his presence or just go back to sleep. It won't be too much of an inconvenience, either way, considering the medicine should be taking effect in the next couple of minutes.

She blinks slowly, shifting around in her position to get more comfortable, and landing her bleary gaze on the startling figure squatting directly in front of her. Letting out a strangled gasp, she tries to crawl backward, though the wall pressed up against her back prevents that and gives him the opportunity to reach out and force his hand against her mouth, muffling her yelps of protest. He can almost swear that her skin gets pale as she takes in his unusual features; a reaction he isn't phased by at all. He's a monster, right? It's only natural to fear him.

She grabs at his wrists, attempting to push him away and twisting her legs out of the blanket covering her body to try and get a good kick in. Only when she frees her legs does he lunge forward and straddle her, stopping any attempts she may have made to harm him, and looks directly into her wide, panicked eyes with his black, tar-dripping sockets.

"Calm down," he instructs in a quiet, yet authoritative voice, putting more of his weight on top of her as her striving to escape gradually increases. She thrashes, pulls at his arms, punches his chest, though he makes sure to keep his neck craned back to avoid getting hit in the face. Even with his mask on, offering a layer of protection, it wouldn't exactly feel good. He knows this from experience.

She tries screaming and yanking her head out of his strong grip, though fails, and can't stop her eyes from watering from the utter terror that rushes through her.

"You're okay, just calm down." He keeps his tone gentle, knowing the thoughts that must be racing through her mind at lightening speed and wanting to make this easier on himself. The faster the drug works, the quicker he can get out of here and go back to the base. She doesn't listen to him, either that, or she's physically incapable of listening with the erratic beating of her heart thumping in her ears and briefly deafening her.

They both sit there for another couple of minutes, her struggling getting weaker the groggier she gets until eventually, her eyes hesitantly close and her body goes limp. Before he does anything, he needs to make sure that one guy—probably her grandfather— went back to bed after using the restroom. Jack knows he was, indeed, in the bathroom because he heard the toilet flush from the other side of the wall, though he didn't hear any footsteps.

Stealthily, he stands to his feet, walks out of the closet, and looks out into the hall just in time to see the bedroom door close softly. Perfect. Now hopefully it will all continue going as smoothly as it has been so far. He returns to the closet, taking her hands and pulling her motionless body up, and wrapping his arms around her torso before she can fall back down. Making sure he has a firm hold on her waist, he bends down, allows her body to drop over his shoulder and across his back, before standing back up, tightening his grip around her and quickly adjusting to the extra body weight as he turns and steps out of the closet.

Hoody never told him to grab any of her things, so he assumes that he'll take care of that himself, even though he's not sure how. Is he going to sneak into her house to take them, or just get one of the girls to pick up a whole new wardrobe? Those questions are meaningless right now, he supposes, and he doesn't let it take up too much of his time before dismissing them altogether and making his way cautiously down the staircase, the girl slung over his shoulder making it a little more difficult than it normally would be.

His hand slides down to her thighs as he comes up in front of the door, and he uses his other one to soundlessly unlock it, not willing to go back through the window with the unconscious girl and take a chance on alerting the other members residing in the household of his presence, drop her, or both, so he opts to go harmlessly through the door. Twisting the knob, he eases the door open, then the screen, inwardly wincing when it lets out a rather loud and obnoxious squeak.

Not wanting to stick around and take any chances on being heard, he hurries out onto the porch, softly shutting the door and screen behind him, and quickens his pace once he's out of the yard and through the gate. He scans the treeline, making sure there's nothing insidious waiting for him inside, before taking his original path and pulling out his phone. He clicks on Hoody's contact and presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the ringing to stop.

"Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I got her. I'm coming back now."

#Creepypasta #Marble Hornets #reader #Creepypasta x reader #Eyeless Jack #Hoody #Brian Thomas #Jack Nichols #Slenderman #the Operator #Operator symbol #Eyeless Jack x reader #Creepypasta fanfic

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Objection!: Chapter 26

Chapter title: When Youre Home

A/n: Sorry it took awhile and im sorry its shorter!! Ive been really busy but I still wanted to get a chapter out! And ofc cant tell you what happens just yet also gotta let ya suffer. Sorry its bad but enjoy!! PLEASE LEAVE ME COMMENTS YALL! PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS AND IF ITS CONFUSING OR YOU HAVE QUESTIONS IM HERE TO ANSWER THEM OK?

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words: 2356

summary: The world freezes as the gang follows the events of the previous night

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene, murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link

“Dada!” No, Logan couldn't. His throat closes tightly hearing the sound of frantic children racing toward him. Wiping away his nervous tears he stands, the twins waste no time as Logan kneels to nuzzle themselves into him. Emile and Remy, somber faces, approach from behind. “Where's Papa?” Valerie shakes, her fears from the night only arising.

“Um...Patton is…” Logan cant speak, the words catch in his throat, stuck at some border keeping them down. “He’s…” He doesn't wish to beg for assistance, but his eyes beg to anyone. Everyone avoids him, except…

“Why don't we go get some food?” Emile offers, the twins attention, tired and worn out, and focuses on the doctor. “We can get something for your dad” Emile and Remy work in sync, taking the pair from Logan. Nothing changes but the smallest glint shows his thankfulness. They set off and just as soon as they appeared, they fade into the rush of the midnight hour at the hospital. Cold and dark, Logan wants them back, the aching his body feels as he no longer can feel their presence.

He could see the crowd move, he could hear their mumblings and the world continue on. But he felt numb, like static surrounding him, nothing was there. Silence in this noisy void. Even when Virgil places his hand on the lawyers shoulder it takes a moment to register, then his face only sends him back.

“Hey we he- Patton” It takes almost no time to identify the ooze of blood and the frozen terror in the center of the courtroom. Virgil steps back, a moment of hesitation, Roman rushing by him sparks him back alive. He had never seen a puzzle so broken, so many pieces lost. Logan couldn't speak, but he held so tightly. But to what? Virgil hated it but it didnt look like Patton.

“Hel..help” Logan manages, something in him however was gone. Virgil couldn't look anymore, the pale face, he longed to see the bright smile, promising love as it flashed to all it passed. The sparkle of his eyes, a smart shine closed as they looked empty. Nothing was there, no one was there….

“Uhm Roman Reial, I need an ambulance… the courthouse on Preise Boulevard” He rushes, his breaths short and scared. “A-a gunshot wound...please just hurry” He pleads, Logan continues staring towards the door. The icy blue that sparked with wisdom and his unsuspected and treasured love had melted. They were empty, devoid of purpose to shine.

“We...we’re engaged” He mumbles, Virgil looks to Pattons hands instantly. The scuffed skin didn't distract from the stunning glimmer of the ring around his finger.

“C-come on” Virgil tries “We have to get him out of here...or apply pressure...or stop the bleeding or-”

“Virge breathe” Roman takes his hand, squeezing it gently. Their eyes meet and the dangerous storm dies down in Virgil, finding a light rain should suffice. “He’ll be ok”

“Don't make promises you can't keep” Virgil whispers, listening to a silent Logan crying ever so gently over a fallen love. Roman cups his cheek, the movement feeling natural.

“I'm not” He takes Virgil to the side, calming him as medics and cops file in. The pair are guilty as they ignore Logan's desperate cries, shunning away while Patton, if you can call his lifeless body that was hauled away. Logan sinks again, unable to move, no one makes a sound, the room falls quiet once more. “Logan…” Roman begins, his caution at a high point. The lawyer shakes his head, searching for the words, any words. A simple croak.

“Hes-”

“Dead” Logan mutters “He's dead” He slumps into his chair, Roman and Virgil share uneasy glances.

“What happened?!” The three look up, their eyes landing in unison. A fiery path alight as Barbara marched towards them, Marcy following her footsteps trying to put out the dark. Logan stands, not expecting the rough descent to the physical world. “What did you do?” She spits, desperate as everything falls apart.

“Barb!” Marcy calls, gently removing her from a distant Logan. “Bubbles take a breath, it's not Logan's fault” Marcy assures, stroking ever so delicately to her wife. Barbara tries to conjure an argument but shatters, falling into Marcys arms as she cries.

Shouldn't Logan be doing the same?

Why couldn't he feel the pain?

Had he succumbed...to the dark?

Not too long ago his confusion was riddled with unbearable pain, the sadness too much to feel as it coursed through his veins, practically pumping his breath. He needed Patton, that took something out of him. The name, even the mere thought was too much, a break in his step. Turning rapidly away from this scene, too much of a mirror of his inner turmoil, he walks to the door, and kept going. Ignore, he told himself, ignore the shouts and the concern.

“Patton Hart” He demands, the woman perks up, a note of sympathy accompanies her sweet smile. She dials the phone, hushed whispers before she returns to Logan, the man no doubt seemed insane.

“I'm sorry sir, mister Hart is still in surgery” She informs. “We will send someone out with updates, but please return to the waiting room” She requests, her politeness and formality wasn't something Logan could argue. And it made sense, what was he thinking. Resigned with shame he returns to the group, the moment his sweaty back hits the chair he gives in. The tears just come, you'd think dehydration might be a risk as he sobs with no filter. No one dared move, not even a breath escaped but Barbara's face morphs, she takes his side, clutching hard. If he needed pressure, he was getting it.

Everyone loved him, but these two...it was different. The pain, the absolute grief they felt, couldn't be matched, only sprouted from their passionate love. Even if there's differences between each other, it was intense...and it hurt. And they shared that, how awful…

~~~

“I hear kids” Patton chuckles into the pillow, Logans arms remain around the smaller of the pair. It was true, the feet moved rapidly through the house, the wooden floors revealing their location with coy creaks. Logan groans, nuzzling into Patton not wishing to lose this warmth. “C’mon” Patton giggles, a gentle kiss on Logan's cheek before he sits up. His hair falling perfectly into a fluffed cloud. The pair reach for their glasses, preparing for the wave that approaches them.

“Papa! Dada!” The door bursts and the twins spare no one, jumping into the bed as they pounce on the fathers. Both lawyers fall back, laughing through muffled embraces. The twins had grown immensely, and yet they insisted on Sunday morning hugs.

“Where do you attain all this energy?” Logan wonders, adjusting Remus in front of him, the boy bounces excited. “It's eight in the morning” Logan yawns, Valerie follows suit sitting next to her brother.

“Lo they've only been alive for ten years, they have all the energy in the world” Patton teases, resting his head on Logan's accepting shoulder. “Why don't we give your father some space, come on Ill make you breakfast” Patton takes his time, slipping on his slippers as he leads the eager twins to the kitchen. The skip behind him, humming sweetly as they clutch to his hands.

“Cartoons?” Remus proposes, Patton nods and allows them to set up in front of the couch. The shows blare loud but nothing Patton didn't enjoy or was used to, he begins his work diligently in the kitchen. Never could he gain tired of the sweet bouts of laughter from the children.

“Good morning pop!” Patton turns, a giant grin spreads. Terrence stands idle, his cup tight in his small hands, his smile reflects brightly.

“Well good morning sweetness” Patton greets, kneeling slightly to face the young boy. “What can I do for you?” He offers, Terrence holds out his cup, shaking it gladly. “Juice or water?”

“Juice please! Jamahl sleeping still” He replies, Patton obliges, securing the drink into his hands once more. “Thank you kindly!” He beams, Patton hides a sweet chuckle, his vocabulary increasing everyday. “Hello papa” He waves to a slumbering Logan, hugging his legs before racing off to join his siblings, Logan ruffles his hair watching him go. Patton giggles turning back to his work, the stove ready for the delectable delight.

“Mmm” Logan hums, his arms wrapping gently around Patton's waist. His head falls perfectly on the mans shoulder, burrowing with ease. Patton giggles, the tickles certainly help to awake the man. Logan grows impatient spinning Patton towards him, leaning into a gentle kiss, a nice satisfaction as he pulls away.

“What was that for?” Patton laughs, Logan shrugs returning to his position. He enjoys watching his husband work, the careful manner as he prepares food, the unconscious humming that carries a tune. He places yet another kiss on Patton's cheek, wanting to remain as such forever. They both take a moment to turn to the children, each excited as the animation dances across the stage. Patton takes Logans hands in his own, interlacing their fingers as they watch.

“I want another” Logan yawns, Patton continues his cooking. He shakes his head stirring the coffee pouring two even cups.

“Another kiss?” He jokes, obliging by his own manner. Logan pouts and pulls Patton back to him. “Yes dearest?” He wonders

“Another kid” Logan presses, Pattons amused smile remains but falters a tad. “I mean look at them, they're perfect” Logan smiles, his glasses drooping. Patton adjusts them for him but bites his tongue. “Come on...I was looking and talking to Lia and-” Patton interjects quickly

“Lo I don't want another kid” He admits, his brows furrowed with concern. Logan takes a step back, their hands remain connected.

“I….what?” Logan mutters “I mean...you love kids. And you're wonderful with them. I don't understand…” Patton strokes his cheek, calming the anxiety he can see forming.

“I do love kids. I love Virgils son, I adore Thomas and the twins and Terrence are my life” Patton promises, yet something is off. “I just...I don't want another kid” He restates. “Divine, we are both full time lawyers and I'm on the city counsel. We already have trouble balancing our schedules with them. Adopting a child, no matter the age would be difficult. And it wouldn't be fair on them” Patton explains.

“What about Terrence? And Jamahl?” Logan marvels, scouring his brain. “That was even more dire, you were just out of the hospital a-and you were just starting. I was just beginning to learn what it meant to be a father-”

“And you are amazing at it” Patton smiles, Logan can't find the same urge.

“Terrence was a baby, I mean we could take in a grown child...like Jamahl. Statistics show that they are less likely to be taken in and it would save us the trouble of a newborn and it would be easier to help them adjust and understand” Logan rushes, desperate. “We can do it” He assures, Pattons usual determination, his need to please Logan just couldn't conjure itself.

“I-im sorry Lo, I don't want another kid” Patton laments, finally it seems their hands find their way apart.

“Ok maybe not now, I mean maybe in the future we could-” Logan tries. Pattons hands clutch to the table, the spatula could sink into the counter.

“No Logan you're not hearing me” He whispers, wishing to keep this to themselves. “I don't want another kid, We’ve got two ten year olds. Both who have been through more than any ten year old should. Both also very familiar to a broken home, and wishing for nothing more than to keep what stability they have. We've got a little five year old who despite being just a baby was thrown through system and system and didn't know a stable and safe home until he took his first steps on that carpet over there and his over-protective brother finally trusted us” Patton takes a frustrated breath “We have full careers and If I know you, which I pride myself on, you want it go further and advance” He watches the once expression he hated so much, Logans eyes fall hopeless. He takes his cheeks, aweing so gently. “Logan, my starlight, I love you so much. I love you, and the kids and my job and my friends. I like our life. But I don't want another kid, Jamahls about to go off to college, the twins are going to be in highschool in no time and Terrence is beginning school” Patton serves the now saddened breakfast, moving to the table as he sets it. Molly whines at his feet for food, he wishes to coo but his heart feels heavy.

“Patton I-” Logan begins

“I have to go wake up Jamahl, he has SAT prep and Thomas is coming over soon to play with Terrence” Patton gives another look before disappearing behind the wall. Both take shuddered breaths fearing their own ability to stop tears. The house felt tense, hard to move through, hard to breath. Hard to stay still, why was it shaking?

“Logan” The softest voice cuts through, the lawyer sputters awake, his eyes flutter open. Virgil kneels in front of him, his hands gentle as he places a hold on the man. “He's out of surgery” Virgil informs, Logan nods before fully comprehending Virgil's words. He jumps up, rushing to the doctor who was seemingly reporting to Barbara.

“...he hasn't awoken yet but his vitals are stable for now” The man finishes, thats all Logan needed. “As you are immediate family you can see him, the rest of you will have to wait” Logans heart drops, falling below his knees. Barbara rings her hands but takes Logan.

“This is his husband” The doctor checks his chart, skeptical as to who is listed. “Its recent so he hasn't had time to update it” Barbara adds, Logan would be eternally grateful to her later. Especially as they walk through the forbidden doors and straight down to the room…

His room.

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smarchit · 4 years

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Do No Harm pt 2

READ IT ON MY AO3

Part 1

It had been a few days since the Mandalorian had brought his son to Wynn's tiny hut to care for him. She had felt successful in how she treated her tiny patient, despite the Mandalorian's apparent apprehension.

Wynn had not heard anything from the unusual pair since he quickly left after giving her both a week's worth of food money and a new knife.

She hadn't needed the knife yet, thank the Maker, but the Mandalorian's words still rung in her head.

They will come back.

The thought of those men from the Empire returning, coming into her home at night while she slept, bursting into her work while she was tending to a patient... It made her shudder in her boots. She would lay awake at night for hours with bated breath. She wanted to be ready for them. It felt like every shadow would be the one that slit her throat.

On the morning of the third day after the mysterious Mandalorian came into her shop, Wynn stood on her front porch as she swept the dust from her doorstep to prepare for the day. It was a bright, sunny day, the air already warm on her face.

The sun seemed to vanish from the sky as a massive Imperial ship descended from the upper atmosphere.

Wynn felt her heart stop as the broom slipped from her fingers. It clattered to the porch, forgotten, when the ship landed directly in front of her home.

A flock of chickens scattered and clucked indignantly as the ramp shot out into the mud.

At least twenty Stormtroopers filed out, their guns drawn and aimed at Wynn, ready to fire. Some of them had flamethrowers and missiles strapped to their backs. They were prepared for war.

An intimidating man in a long black cloak appeared in the doorway and slowly walked down the ramp between the Stormtroopers. He pulled on his gloves and glanced up at Wynn, his face expressionless.

They had come back.

Mando had stuck around the small planet he'd found the young doctor on since he left her several days prior. He'd been monitoring the baby's condition and didn't want to be too far away from her should he get worse.

She had been right though -- his fever was down and he was eating. Mando was even more thankful that the kid was starting to sleep through the night again. If he kept it up, he may even be able to go back to work soon.

"Just a few more days of medicine, womp rat," he said affectionately as he stroked one big ear. "Then I'll go find you a big frog or something really gross with lots of bones."

The Child responded by blowing a spit bubble at his adopted father and clapping his tiny hands. His large eyes squinted with delight and he even flashed him a smile full of sharp little teeth.

An incoming call tore his attention away from his charge and he quickly pressed the button to answer it.

"Mando!" Karga barked, his expression sullied by a worried frown. "Where the hell are you?"

"Near that planet you sent me to with that doctor for the kid," he replied. "I can send you my coordinates. Something wrong?"

"Something is very wrong, Mando. This is bad - did you happen to see an Imperial ship pass by?"

"I'm well out of range for the hyperspace lane, so no. Why?"

Mando picked the Child up and set him in his pod before he started up the ship to high tail it away from the threat of Imperial discovery.

"How long were you on that planet?"

Mando thought for a second. "Overnight, just a few hours. Was I followed?"

"Yes."

Mando let out a soft curse in Mando'a. The girl.

"We intercepted a message the damn Imps sent out. Take a listen. Do what you need to. Rendezvous back here when you can. Be careful. Hope to see you soon."

As soon as Karga disconnected, another call came up with the intercepted Imp message attached to it.

Mando pressed the button to play it and an icy chill slithered up his back when he heard that cold, distinct voice. Moff Gideon.

"Wynnlow Eshol, you have twelve hours to present to me the fugitive Mandalorian, Din Djarin, as well as the unknown species he carries with him. If you do not, I will have no choice but to destroy everything you hold most dear. It is your choice."

Mando swallowed thickly as he braced himself for the wave of panic that washed over him. It was the same fear and uncertainty he had when trapped in the cantina on Nevarro when he first discovered who Moff Gideon was and what exactly he was capable of doing.

It had very nearly killed him. He had to go back for the girl, even if it meant facing off against an entire army. Protect others who cannot protect themselves, this is the Way.

He swore again and sealed off the Child's pod before he set a course for the sleepy village he'd found Wynn in.

Six hours had passed since Wynn's village was overrun with Imps. She hadn't seen so many since she was a little girl. Her heart thudded in her chest - the last time she'd seen this many was the day her mother was killed, only hours before the Resistance chased them all out.

Wynn had managed, despite her trembling fingers, to pull up the floorboard in the hallway where she kept an old model blaster tucked away for safety. She pressed her hand against the pocket of her skirt to check for the vibroblade the Mandalorian had left her in case they came back.

"Kriff," she whispered as she peaked out of the window. She knew it wasn't possible as she heard no other ships arrive, but the Stormtroopers seemed to have doubled in number.

Wynn didn't want to know how many houses had been ransacked as they hunted down the Mandalorian. Din Djarin. Is that his name? He doesn't seem like a fugitive. He seemed like someone who wanted to help his son.

Wynn bit her lip. How did that man know who they both were? How did he know a Mandalorian came to her to care for his child?

She kept the blaster close to her chest as she crept across the floor on her knees to her living quarters. All that was going through her mind was getting out of there as fast as she could. Six hours left to come up with an escape plan. Even if she told the Imps that whoever they were looking for was not there, they wouldn't believe her.

It was only a question now of how fast could she run. Could she outrun a well-trained military?

As Wynn hurriedly packed a bag, she threw worried glances over her shoulder at every little noise in her house. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like someone coming to get her. Sneaking up on her, waiting to catch her off guard.

Suddenly, a warm, firm hand wrapped itself over her mouth and pulled her close against cold armor. The scent of blaster smoke and leather filled her nose and panic began to set in.

Wynn gave a muffled scream and thrashed wildly in an attempt to get away from her attacker. She slammed her foot down on their boot and kicked her legs backwards at her attacker.

"Stop," came a deep voice, warbled by a vocoder. The voice only reignited your fear and you continued to thrash around. The voice came again, rougher, more irritated. "I said stop. That's enough."

It occurred to Wynn that the voice was familiar. She'd definitely heard that voice before...

Strong hands turned her around and she was suddenly staring directly into an intimidatingly dark T-visor. She could see her terrified face looking back at her.

The Mandalorian.

Once he knew she'd recognized him and wouldn't scream, he slowly moved his hand away from her mouth.

"I... What?" she stammered. Wynn could feel her knees start to buckle as the Stormtroopers outside her door shuffled into a new position. She could hear someone bark orders, but couldn't make out the words.

"We need to go," the Mandalorian ordered, his voice low as he leaned in close to her ear. "Now. They know I'm in here. Follow me."

His hand locked around her wrist like a vice as he lead her through her home like he was the one who had lived there for the last twenty-something years and not her.

Mando brought her into the kitchen where the door had been propped open just enough for him to get his wide body through. He pushed her in front of him and out the door into the garden just as a loud bang came from the front of the house.

Wynn screamed and Mando wrapped his arms around her to keep her steady as the explosion rocked the ground at their feet.

"Run!" Mando ordered. He grabbed her hand and took off towards the forest as fast as their legs could carry them.

Wynn felt the heat from the explosion as she ran, her hand still clasped in Mando's. Something sharp hit her back and leg before she made it to the edge of her garden. She stumbled over a large squash and dropped to her hands and knees with a cry of pain.

Mando stumbled backwards and hoisted her to her feet. He kept one hand around her waist as he hauled her from the mud.

"There they go!" one of the Stormtroopers yelled from behind the retreating pair. "Fire!"

Mando turned briefly to glance at the danger behind them before he roughly pulled Wynn into his arms.

"Hold on!" he shouted over the sound of blaster fire and explosions.

He pressed a button on his cuirass and held her close as they quickly ascended into the sky.

Wynn could hear the blaster shots whizz by her ears, a little too close for her comfort. Some of their more accurate shots pinged off of Mando's armor, narrowly avoiding her uncovered skin. The pain in her back and leg was worse now that they were no longer on the ground and she wasn't running for her life. It stung and burned and she hissed in pain, her grip tightening out of reflex.

"Don't look down," Mando said quietly, his helmet pressed against the side of her head. "Keep your eyes shut. Focus on your breathing."

"What's going on?" Wynn asked, wincing a bit as her voice cracked. She dug her fingers into the space between his pauldron and back plate to steady herself as Mando adjusted his grip on her. "What's happening?"

"I'll explain everything later," he said softly. He sounded remorseful, if Wynn was any judge of his emotion. It wasn't an easy thing to do with that helmet and vocoder, but she was sure that was a tinge of sadness to his voice. "When you're safe."

A few minutes later, the pair descended below the treetops to where his ship was docked. It was well out of the way of prying eyes of the villagers and any potential scouts that would come along.

Mando released the latch on his jetpack and dropped to one knee as he landed. He loosened his hold on Wynn's waist as soon as he was steady back on terra firma.

Wynn hissed in pain and almost immediately fell to the ground, clutching her leg.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Did you get hit?"

"Kriff," she grunted through gritted teeth. She pulled her hand away from her skirt, her palm and fingertips stained with blood. Quickly, she drew her skirt up her thighs and twisted her leg around to examine her wound.

Shards of transparisteel had sliced both her skirt and her leg open as she fled. When she hunched over to get a better look, Mando noticed some of the back of her dress had been shredded in the explosion and her exposed skin was covered in lacerations. His beskar had protected him from both blaster fire and shrapnel, and he was used to holding the kid in his arms for safety. But not another person - someone so inexperienced with battle.

"Can you walk?" he asked as he held a hand out to her. He bent low to scoop her into his arms when she shook her head no. "We need to get moving. Come on."

Mando set Wynn down on a crate in the holding area of the Crest before he disappeared up the ramp to the cockpit. He quickly readied for takeoff and didn't even bother to do his normal checklist before he gunned it to the closest hyperspace lane. He punched in the coordinates for Nevarro and flicked the autopilot switch before he sank into the seat with a sigh.

Mando briefly checked on the kid, sound asleep in his pod, before he sent a simple message to Karga: "Coming in tomorrow."

He stood and reached for the medkit under his chair and stopped by the fresher for an additional syringe of bacta. While he normally cauterized his wounds, he knew it wasn't ideal for everyone. It hurt and she was scared enough already without him even laying a hand on her.

Wynn was still right where he had left her seated on the storage crate. She had a faraway look in her eyes as she stared off at nothing in particular.

Mando knew that look. Shock. He knew how she must feel - alone, afraid, hurt. He saw her body tremble as the adrenaline slowly wore off. Those cuts were about to hurt a whole lot worse...

"Hey," Mando said quietly. He approached slowly, not wanting to startle her.

She looked up at him when he was nearly in front of her. Her green eyes were wide with tears that threatened to spill down her rounded cheeks. She looked lost.

"You're safe," he murmured. He set the medkit down beside her and crouched down in front of the crate. "I need to look at those wounds."

Wynn's lower lip wavered slightly as she watched Mando prepare a bacta shot, his gloved fingers deftly readying the medicine.

Mando lifted her injured leg up and placed her foot in his lap. He pulled off her shoe and noted how she winced when his hand brushed against her ankle.

"You tripped - it was this one, right?" he asked, gently squeezing the bones and tendons to check for any breaks or a sprain.

Wynn gasped sharply and tried to pull her foot away. The tears started to slide down her face as Mando tightened his grip and pulled her ankle back.

"It isn't badly broken," he continued. "Lucky for you. Two shots will heal everything with only a bit of scarring."

Wynn sniffled and looked away. The initial shock seemed to be wearing off now, soon to be replaced with either complete denial or anger. Either was fair game, Mando figured.

Before she could say anything, he swiftly injected the first shot into the soft muscle of her calf. It would sting for a few seconds before the relief spread to her injuries.

"Gotta get your back now," he said, bringing himself back up to his feet. "Can you pull your shirt down?"

Wynn's head shot up so quickly it almost startled him. Her cheeks were stained with pink and the tips of her ears were almost the same shade as her hair.

Mando felt hot underneath his helmet and he wondered, briefly, if it had always been this kriffing warm in the cargo bay.

"Not like that," he grumbled as he took a seat beside her. He readied the second shot of bacta to inject into her shoulder.

The light caught a silvery scar along the back of her neck when she moved her hair aside, and Mando followed it below the collar of her shirt with his finger tips. He almost forgot himself until Wynn shivered slightly at the touch. Goosebumps broke out on her shoulders and he swiftly pulled his hand away, a cracked apology barely making its way through the vocoder.

Mando injected the second shot of bacta and almost instantly, Wynn's shoulders slumped in relief.

In a few minutes, she fell against his shoulder, too relaxed from the double shot of bacta to keep herself upright.

Mando kept a steady hand on her shoulder as he stood to scoop her into his arms for the second time that day.

Wynn's head rolled against his chest plate as he carried her down the ship's narrow hall. She felt so warm through his shirt and even through his armor that it startled him. He hadn't been this close to another person in so long.

He took her to his small cot and laid her down on the thin mattress, taking care to remove her shoes and placing them within her line of sight when she woke. Mando also pulled down an extra blanket from the bin above the cot and threw it over her. Once the ship was in hyperspace for an hour or two, it always got extremely cold.

As he turned to leave to make his ascent to the cockpit, he sighed.

This is all your fault, Din.

#the mandalorian #mando x oc #din djarin x oc #my writing #do no harm fic

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 5 years

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Happy Birthday, booksandeverlark!

Today, we wish @booksandeverlark a very Happy Birthday! We hope you’re having a wonderful day so far, full of cake and presents! To keep your party going a little while longer, the lovely @historywriter2007 has written a story just for you!

Happy Birthday booksandeverlark! I hope you had a fantastic day and that you enjoy your story.

Maybe He Wasn’t My Always

Rated T

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

The small town of Panem hasn’t changed much in the past 10 years since Katniss left. She hadn’t planned to be away for so long but after college she was offered an amazing job from the company where she had interned and she couldn’t resist. It wasn’t until Prim begged her to come home that she took an inventory of her life and realized she was miserable. Her friends were as fake as their silicone boobs and no matter how much money she was making she never seemed to feel like she was happy. Even though growing up all she could ever think about was not having to worry about where her next meal came from, now she could have anything she wanted but it left her feeling more empty. At least she found joy knowing she was helping Prim through medical school but now that she was heading into her residency and they ended up with a large inheritance from her distant uncle, who had no heirs, she could take a pay cut and come back home to be with her sister.

As she was heading to meet her friend Madge her phone dinged with a request of coffee and cheese buns. Katniss knew she would need to go to one place to get those, Mellark’s Bakery. She hoped she could avoid the place for a few days until she got used to the idea of being home and close to her longtime crush, who happened to run the bakery now, but it looked like a very pregnant Madge had a different idea. And of course, as her luck would have it, Peeta was working the front desk.

“Katniss, I heard you were home. Are you back for good?” He asked with a huge smile on his face.

She wondered if he always looked so happy to see someone. “I am, Prim begged me to come home and I found a job nearby. How’s the business?”

“It’s great actually. What can I get for you?”

“I’m meeting Madge, she wants a decaf and cheese buns.”

Peeta nodded and gathered the first items before placing another cup on the counter. “And, you’ll have cheese buns and a hot chocolate?” Peeta added.

Katniss smiled, “You remembered.”

Peeta’s cheeks reddened. “I remember a lot of things about you.”

Before Katniss could respond the door dinged letting them know the bakery had a new visitor. The woman was wearing scrubs and had beautiful red hair and green eyes, but she was carrying a baby boy who was the spitting image of Peeta. She smiled and walked right past Katniss to hand the baby off to Peeta, who took him without question. After a few minutes of hello’s with the boy, he turned to Annie.

“Annie, this is my old friend Katniss.”

Annie half smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” She looked her up and down before turning back to Peeta, “Don’t forget I have the late shift tomorrow.”

“Got it.” He answered.

She dropped a diaper bag at his feet and turned to walk away.

Katniss tried to smile, but her heart felt like it was constricting. Peeta didn’t seem to notice as he tried to introduce the baby to Katniss.

“Jake, can you say hi to my friend Katniss?” The baby cuddled more into him, “he’s a bit shy.” Peeta said.

“I remember someone else who was shy,” Katniss mentioned thinking back on the boy who would turn away anytime she looked his direction.

“I was only shy with a few people,” He added, pink twinging his cheeks like it did when they were in high school.

Katniss didn’t want to think about what he was trying to say, it was too late for her to even try to get him now. Maybe if it was only a girlfriend she would be alright with thinking of ways she could win his heart away, but not if she was destroying a family. “I need to go, I’m late to meet Madge.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, as she left the bakery.

Katniss struggled to stay away from Peeta, but in a small town, it was nearly impossible to avoid someone. She played hide and seek with him in the aisle of the grocery store watching him fill his cart with diapers and formula. He even showed up at the park when she was with Madge and her oldest child. Madge’s comments on how good he was with Jake were the last thing she needed. It was hard enough to see him happily play with his boy knowing she would never be a part of it with him. She never thought she wanted children, but seeing him as a father made her rethink her stance.

At least she had avoided Annie, that was until she met Prim for her dinner break a week after she arrived home. Katniss watched the woman pay for her food and walk to a nearby table. Prim followed her gaze and gave Katniss a confused look.

“Why are you shooting daggers at Annie?” Prim asked.

“I am not.” Katniss spit back.

Prim narrowed her eyes, “First of all you are a shitty liar, so don’t even try it with me. Second, if you had your bow I’m pretty sure she’d be dead so what’s going on?”

Katniss sighed, she knew Prim wouldn’t give up until she told her the truth. “You know that I had a crush on Peeta growing up.”

Prim scoffed, “Katniss, the whole town knew. We also all knew that Peeta had a crush on you too. The only two who didn’t seem to know were you two.”

Katniss scowled at her, “Well, now that he’s with Annie there’s nothing I can do about that. Especially since they have a child together.”

Prim busted into laughter, which made Katniss angry, “What the hell are you laughing at?”

“You. They aren’t together. In fact, she’s dating the hottest doctor in the hospital.”

“But she came in with Peeta’s baby.” Katniss refuted.

Prim shook her head. “Do you ever listen to me when I’m telling you about home?” Katniss didn’t answer, she just looked at her willing her to continue. “Do you remember when I told you about Peeta’s brother?”

Katniss nodded, she remembered Prim telling her about a car accident that claimed Peeta’s oldest brother, Brandon and his wife. She even sent Peeta a message sending her condolences.

“Well, Peeta had been named as their son’s guardian. Annie was Brandon’s wife’s sister. She wanted to make sure Jake knew that side of the family too so she takes him for a night every now and then and watches him when she can.” Prim shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth, giving Katniss time to register everything she said.

“So Peeta’s single?” Katniss asked.

Prim looked at her incredulously, “Yes. He’s single and I talked to him this morning. He was really hoping he would have been able to talk to you more but felt like you were avoiding him. I’m sure he’s really confused, especially since I told him about your crush before you come home.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you both needed a kick in the ass to make your moves. Now, you need to get to the bakery before it closes. Doctors orders.”

Katniss smiled and hugged her sister then did as she was told. When did she get so bossy?

The sign said closed, but she could see Peeta cleaning the tables by the window. She knocked to get his attention, he looked up and gave her a smile before opening the door and letting her in.

“Hey, did you need something?” He asked.

“No, but I know you talked to Prim andI need to tell you something. I’m sorry.” She said.

Peeta looked confused, “Why are you sorry?”

“You were right. I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Katniss, it’s fine. I know you didn’t want kids and now that I have Jake things are different. You know Prim told me about your crush and even though I would love for us to try if you still don’t want kids I understand. I’m not expecting anything from you.”

“But that is not the reason I’ve been staying away. I thought you and Annie were together and that Jake was yours.” Katniss admitted.

“You know that’s not true right? I mean technically Jake’s mine now, but I’m not with anyone.” Peeta responded.

“I know that now. Prim told me everything. And I’ve changed my mind on kids.”

Peeta moved a bit closer, “That’s good to know. Does that mean if I asked you to dinner that you’d take me up on the offer?”

Katniss decided to make a move, she got on her tiptoes and placed a soft quick kiss on his lips. “I’d love to, but first I want a proper meeting with Jake.”

“Deal. I have a feeling you two will get along well.” Peeta said with a smile.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaygifts #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #fan fic #by historywriter2007

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yorukamiko · 4 years

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Vampire AU

I’ve been toying with this idea for a while, so here it is in writing. Julian, somewhere between the fateful Masquerade and the beginning of our story. On the run. We more or less know his route: getting away from Vesuvia with Mazelinka, getting on a ship to Macawi port in the South, then going back to Vesuvia. But the Masquerade was three years ago, and Portia started working at the Palace a year ago, probably shortly after she got to Vesuvia, which leaves us with two years of Julian’s journey. What has he been up to, then?

EDIT: I started writing this 3h ago and just wanted to get stuff out of my head. I guess stories live their own lives, so it became WAY longer than I expected. Oops. It’s 3:30am and starts getting NSFW. Part two will happen when I get sleep. Alas, beware of typos and other mishaps.

Also TW: human trade

Here an idea:

The ship Julian’s on is attacked by the pirates. Not Mazelinka’s crew, but a more nasty type. Julian tries to make his way out of the situation by telling them he’s a doctor, but they don’t need one on their ship - instead, they decide to make a pretty penny selling him to someone on the coast.

As they arrive to a small port, Julian is escorted straight to the market. There, a young lady dressed in finest lace buys him and a few others. She seems very well educated and rich, but not very kind. She haggles well, not about the money, though, but about additional people for the same price. The handler seems to be cautious with his words, as if afraid of her, and finally agrees. When she’s done, she drives away in a carriage, while Julian and the others make their way to the estate on foot, with a few guards.

The residence is a beautiful place by a river, with a garden smaller, but no less amazing than the Vesuvian one. They pass the fields and the meadows on their way there, and Julian takes a good look at the people working in the fields - there are no guards, and some people are resting in shade, drinking and laughing. They seem.. relaxed.

Upon their arrival to the house, the ropes are taken away and they are offered a bath and a fresh change of clothes. Julian’s clothes are simple and plain, but kind of nice. He washes up in a small tub of warm water, and heads to the dining area.

The lady who sits at the head of the table is the same lady who was there in the market. She’s way nicer now, welcoming them in her house and asking them to enjoy the meal. Everyone is a bit reluctant, but she takes the first few bites and that gains her enough trust among the newcomers. Even if this is all extremely odd, they are hungry.

After the dinner is cleaned out from the table, she announces that they are by no means obliged to stay, and they are all free to go the next morning. However, if they would like to stay, she offers her employment. A roof over their heads, food they will grow with their own hands, freedom to come and go, a fair wage, and her protection - under two conditions. There will be a small donation of blood required every now and then, and there will be her reputation to upkeep. There is a murmur among the guests, but she cuts it off, saying she would like them to go meet the servants who decided to stay, before they make the final decision.

The lady of the house takes time to chat with those who stayed in the room, and finally makes it to Julian. Unsure what to do, but utterly intrigued, he decides to accept the invitation and stay for some time as a physician. If nothing else, playing by their rules can make an easier escape later on.

The next morning he is asked to move to a long building closer to the servants quarters, where he is given an office and an adjacent room in which he can live. All of it is rather simple, but sufficient. There are no decorations, but there view out the window is pleasant. Way better than his office in the Palace dungeons. He shivers at the thought, but pushes it far away. He is safe now. Everyone dear to him is safe and away from Vesuvia. Mazelinka has reached Portia by now and passed the news of his escape. All he has to do is to lay low for a while.

There is a knock on the door and a young boy with a little girl attached to his leg walks in. Julian smiles and puts on a “kind doctor” face, then throws himself into work.

Weeks pass by and Julian is well-known and liked among the people of this weird place. His initial distrust slowly vanishes. He can see that the people are indeed free to come and go, they are paid, fed, and happy. They work for themselves, mostly. Some work in the fields, some with the animals, others sew clothes or build furniture. There’s a carpenter, a blacksmith, and now him - a doctor. It’s a self-sufficient little town, all under the protection of this young mysterious lady with a bad reputation on the outside. Whatever they have in abundance, they trade away in the port. Julian goes with them once, and plays along when he is told to put on shackles and look miserable. He knows a reputation can save one from the fight altogether, and he is well aware that if those pirates knew the place wasn’t cursed, haunted, and controlled by a powerful witch, it would get raided in no time.

As they return back to the estate, they joke and laugh about all the silly stuff they saw pirates do - spitting over their shoulders, sprinkling salt, or murmuring anti-hexes while avoiding their gaze. Julian loves it, mischief and drama is something he lives for, and he offers a few new scenarios and tricks to play on the pirates the next time they go to town.

But even before they reach their houses, someone stops them, visibly shaken. They say that there has been an accident and the doctor is needed immediately. Julian rushes back to the estate, where the injured is being taken care of.

A child is laid on a cleared table in the main hall of the house, pale and motionless. There is a family gathered round them, sobbing and comforting each other. Julian is afraid he’s too late, but the child is still alive. Their breath is rugged and bubbly. A close examination shows there’s a lung pierced and some external bleeding. As much as Julian wishes, he’s way under-equipped to perform a surgery. Instead, he removes his gloves.

The room falls silent as his mark glows. With his head tilted backwards, he sees a movement at the top of the staircase. Then, he folds in half as his own ribs crack and bend inwards, piercing his lung. He gasps for air, but he’s drowning, yet he does not move his hands away until he sees the child gaining back consciousness. He collapses to his knees. Last thing he sees is blood on the floor and his hands as he coughs it up.

He wakes up sore, in a strange room. It’s dark, with curtains drawn. The door opens and a servant comes in with a tray full of deliciously smelling food and a lit candle. She smiles at him, sets the tray and begins to light the candles. She seems like she wants to say something, but she only utters “thank you, thank you so much” when she’s about to leave.

Only now Julian realises there’s someone else in the room, sitting in an armchair. The stranger walks towards his bed and Julian can now see a tall, lean figure with a storm of dark hair surrounding her perfectly beautiful face. She looks like a living sculpture, her skin dark, eyes golden. Her entire shape screams elegance. She sits at the foot of his bed and smiles an all-knowing smile.

Julian is too hazy to ask the right questions, and he is starving, so he lets the stranger speak as he ravishes his dinner. The woman seems completely comfortable in his presence, as well as fascinated. She introduces herself as Mistress Zoe, the real lady of the house, and tells Julian she is impressed with his magic, but also a bit hurt he haven’t mentioned being a magician earlier. Julian explains between bites that he is not, in fact, a magician, thank you very much, but he has been cursed by one. She laughs, and asks how possessing an ability to perform miracles and save lives is a curse, to which Julian mumbles something in response, blushing at the compliment.

Zoe asks him to be completely honest with her from then on, and offers the same in exchange. In fact, she would like to start.

She created this whole place, because she dislikes how violent the world has become. There’s no joy for her in hurting and killing, and hurt she must - to feed herself. Now here lies the real curse. She cannot step in the sun, she cannot eat or drink what the others can, she needs to feed on blood. For years she tried to cope with her situation, on her own, with no one to guide her. She did horrible things in her youth, hurt many, just to stay alive. Killed some, yes. But seeing she lived longer than any man she has ever met, she decided to make a difference. That’s why with all her accumulated wealth she bought the estate and surrounding grounds, and created this safe haven. Julian nods and asks about the reputation and Zoe smiles. Well, yes, it’s a repellent for those who would want to attack her, but some of it is true and had the need arise, she would be able to protect her people.

“And the blood donations?” Julian asks. Ever since he took on the physician’s job, he had been tasked with drawing blood from the volunteers. She looks away with poorly hidden disgust. She knows she can draw a little blood from a lot of people to sustain herself and not harm them, but honestly, it’s like taking a bite of every possible dish at the same time. Feeds you, but it’s awful. It’s the closest she’s ever been to being fair with her people, so that’s her way now.

Julian furrows his brows. If she’d let him, he would very much like to examine her. She laughs and it takes a moment until he realises how he sounded. He flusters and tries to explain himself, but she’s having none of it. She teases him and makes him blush even more. Eventually, she lets go and tells him that yes, that is possible, but now she wants to hear his story. Julian obeys, and tells her the most dramatic and entertaining tales of his adventures.

They stay up all night and when the sky behind the drapes starts getting lighter, Zoe decides to bid her goodbyes. She thanks him again for saving the child, and for their time together.

Over the next few days Julian goes back to his routine. He is now treated like a hero, but there’s a bit of distance in how people interact with him. Rumours of magic is what they were laughing at together just a few days ago, not knowing he possessed any abilities. What if he didn’t like their jokes back then? They know he can keep a secret, so maybe he holds a grudge now? Better not get too close with him, better leave him a small gift at the windowsill, just in case. Julian is a bit frustrated by this behaviour, but he can’t blame them - he himself is distrustful towards magic.

His thoughts, however, go back to Zoe and their night together. He felt so good in her presence. She’s bold, and funny, and she seems to like him, too. And gods, creating all this? That takes some guts.. and kindness. He’s sure she could put a lot less effort into it if she hunted.

The next time volunteers come over to donate blood, one of the house servants informs him that he has to deliver the blood himself. After he closes the clinic for the night, he gathers his journal, and a small basket of vials, and goes to a room upstairs. Zoe is already there, behind a room divider, taking a bath. She invites him to sit in a chair next to her tub, completely unashamed. He passes her the vials and she downs a few of them right away, her irises dilating as she drinks. She rests the back of her head on the edge of the tub and he can see her fangs. He opens the notebook and writes down his observations.

It takes her a while to come back to her senses. Her throat bobs up and down and she sits upright. “It’s a very vulnerable moment for me,” she says, “when I feed. It’s even worse when I was feeding off of a living human. You know how lone predators drag their prey into hiding before they start to eat? I had to go to hiding, too. I usually lured them into a safe place, and only then fed. When I quench that thirst, I’m completely helpless. I can control myself, but as for anything going on outside - I’m done. So much for a great predator” she laughs.

Julian sits there, taking notes, asking questions, and trying not to stare. The way she moves, the way she talks, the way her lips curl, her brows furl, her nose wrinkles.. Everything about her is perfect. He is enchanted by her voice and her scent. He blushes, when she catches him drifting away. “Guilty as charged, I was not listening, sorry, you’re just too beautiful” slips his lips and his eyes widen, while his cheeks burn. He did not mean to say it out loud.

She just smiles, a wide predatory grin. Well, of course she is beautiful, but it’s nice of him to notice. Perhaps he would like to put the notebook aside and pass her the towel?

Julian blinks rapidly, then reaches for the soft cloth hanging on a hook and hands it over to her. He wants to turn around but she stops him. He’s welcome to look, in fact, she would very much enjoy it. He doesn’t need another word. He sits there, transfixed, biting his lip, as she puts on a bit of a show for him, slowly drying herself down, giving him all the right angles.

He hasn’t been close with anyone since... since that damned witch. He enjoys Zoe’s company, and she apparently enjoys his. She seems dangerous and alluring, a sweet combination he always had a soft spot for.

She steps out of the bath and bends over, putting her hands on armrests, so their faces almost meet. “What’s your poison, then?” She asks. Julian smiles, eyes full of mischief. “I love pain and servitude, Mistress. Bind me, use me, deny me, hurt me - I’ll take it all. I heal well” he teases. Zoe’s eyes light up at that, she licks her lips, slowly. “May I feed on you?” She asks. Julian swallows, hard. “Yes, please.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #julian x oc #ilya devorak #vampire au arcana #vampire

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bert-thefrog · 5 years

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Tender: Jackie Varma

PermaTags: @lilyofchoices and @msjpuddleduck

Word Count: I lost count

Summary: Jackie x MC fic. Jackie finds out she’s pregnant and pushes MC away.

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be out, I forgot my ID.” Sienna heads back into her room as we finish getting ready for work that morning. “You sure you’ll be okay babe?” I look over at Jackie where she’s curled up on the couch in a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie so oversized it looks like she’ could be swallowed up by it at any second. “I am a doctor Casey. I think I can look after myself.”

“I‘m a doctor too, remember? I’m also your girlfriend and I’m worried about you.” I ruffle her hair and she swats my hand away. “Go away, I don’t want you getting sick too.”

“Alright grumpy; I’ll see you later, love you!” Sienna reappears as I reach the door, waving her ID badge in my face as she catches up to me. Jackie doesn’t respond, seeming to sink further into herself as we head out the door. “Is Jackie okay?” Sienna asks as we get off the subway and begin walking towards Edenbrook. “She says it’s just food poisoning.”

“Yikes. Do you think we’ve got it too? We did all get takeout from the same place.”

“I don’t think so, but let me know if you feel queasy. I’ll see you later.” I wave over my shoulder to my best friend as I head down the corridor to begin rounds.

——

“How you doing babe?” I call round to the apartment during my lunch break, the living room is empty, her cup and plate from earlier neatly stacked in the sink. “Jackie?” I knock on her bedroom door to no response. “I’m here.” She speaks softly from behind me, exiting the bathroom and leaning against the frame. “What’s the matter?” I panic, taking in her bloodshot and puffy eyes, rememants from tears she’s shed earlier. “You’ll hate me.” She begins to cry again, sliding down the wooden doorframe into a ball on the floor. “I could never hate you.” I sit down beside her, pulling her into my arms as she sobs. “Don’t be so sure.” She rubs her eyes, taking a few shaky breaths. “C’mon Jackie, spit it out.” I stroke her hair.

“I’m pregnant.” She whispers after a brief pause.

“What?” My blood runs cold, making my veins feel like ice, weighing down my limbs.

“It was before we started dating. A random one-night stand, Casey I’m so sorry. I’m so-”

“You promise you didn’t cheat on me?”

“God no! I could never.” She looks up at me, her brown eyes flashing with panic.

“Okay. Okay. I believe you.” I take a deep breath, attempting to steady myself and stop my heart from racing out my chest. “So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know Casey. I really don’t.” Her bottom lip trembles, reducing her into fresh waves of tears. “Then we’ll figure it out together.” I promise her, squeezing her hand gently. “Don’t be naïve.”

“What?”

“We’ve been together three months, that’s hardly the kind of time you’d need to commit to someone about to bring a child into the world.”

“I love you..” I protest as she shakes her head, pressing her forehead to mine softly.

“Sometimes love just isn’t enough babe.”

“Don’t say that.” I find myself welling up too, squeezing her hands tight as she tries to pull away. “It’s over. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head at me, brushing herself off as she rises. “You should get back to work.” Her bedroom door slams behind her, leaving me sat in the tiny hallway staring up at the now closed entry in shock.

———

“She ended things with you? Just like that?” Elijah is incredulous as we make our way home beside Sienna and Bryce that evening. “I mean, she’s not wrong. I wouldn’t want to raise someone else’s kid with a person I’d only been seeing a matter of months.” Bryce shrugs, his cheeks coloring slightly with the admission.

“Do we know the father?” Elijah questions and I shrug, pressing my lips together tightly as I hold back tears. “It’s really none of our business.” Sienna speaks up quietly, reaching out and taking my hand in hers as the boys move ahead of us. “You okay?” She gives me a look. One of those expressions just dripping with pity as we wander along. “I’m fine.” I pull away from her, bottom lip trembling as I blink back tears.

“Do you think she’ll stay in the apartment with us?” Bryce is still talking about her when we catch up to them. “I don’t see why not.” Sienna shrugs, we all fall quiet the closer to the flat we get, quietly filing through the door to where Jackie sits alone on the couch, watching tv with a blank expression that hints she’s not actually seeing anything that’s going on onscreen.

———

Things only get more awkward in the apartment as Jackie becomes more obviously pregnant. One morning I’m sitting alone after the night shift, shoveling cornflakes into my face before bed when she emerges from her bedroom, shuffling into the bathroom for a few minutes and back out. It’s hard not to stare, her usually petite frame is ballooning out with the bump, making her movements more cumbersome and labored as she makes her way into the kitchen. “You doing okay?” I avoid making eye contact with her as she sits across from me. “Great. It’s like having my own fucking carry along tray for snacks.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Yes. It sucks”

“Oh.” We trail off into awkward silence, me focused on my cereal and her saying nothing, tracing imaginary shapes on the countertop. “I want to be there for you, as your friend Jackie, let me in please.”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” I reach across the table for her hand as she bites her lip.

“That if I let you in now, you’ll walk away in the end.”

“Friends don’t do that Jackie. I’m right here.” I stand up, walking round the island to wrap her in a hug.

“Ok.” She nods, breathing shakily in my embrace.

“I’ve missed you.” I mumble in her hair, she’s avoided me like crazy lately, to be fair I haven’t exactly been running like crazy to see her either.

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh god. Feelings, this early in the morning.” Aurora grimaces from where she’s just exited her bedroom and promptly re-enters it. Jackie and I catch each other’s eyes, pausing for a second before we burst out laughing. “I’m gonna head to bed, do you need anything before I go?”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I know it’s a lot, and I’d get it if you don’t want to come. But do you wanna come to my scan?”

“No I want to. I’ll be there definitely, but shouldn’t the father be there instead?” Jackie’s face falls as I speak and I realize I have put my foot in it. Massively.

“Nah. I told him, he doesn’t wanna know. Doesn’t want his wife to know either turns out. Not that we need him.” She looks down at her belly and strokes it softly.

“Well fuck him. I’ll be there. What time?” I smile brightly at her and she returns it gratefully.

—————

“Don’t say a word.” Jackie growls at Bryce as he positions himself between her legs.

“I would never.” He smiles innocently up at her, his face falling as she howls with another contraction.

“Why is point break here assisting me in delivering this baby?” Dr. Mirani frowns at our friend as he walks into the room, snapping a pair of gloves on.

“It’s kind of been a mad panic.” I try not to laugh, remembering Bryce’s face a few hours ago when Jackie’s water broke in our kitchen.

“This is a joke. You, get out of there. Go find me an actual ob-gyn.”

“Sir yes sir.” Bryce exits, leaving Jackie, Zaid and I alone with a nurse.

“Ready to have a baby?” Mirani offers us one of his rare smiles, occupying the space Bryce previously occupied.

“I think so.” Jackie takes a deep breath, looking up at me fearfully.

“You have got this.” I squeeze her hand as she groans, another contraction washing over her.

“I sure hope so.” She grits her teeth, clutching my hand tightly in return.

——————

“Need some ice for that?” Bryce spies me as I slump down in the locker room, rubbing my hand where it hurts from Jackie clinging to it.

“I’m good.”

“How is she?”

“Exhausted. They’re checking the baby over now. Were you seriously about to deliver that kid.”

“It did cross my mind. What’d she have?”

“Little girl. No name yet.”

“You guys still haven’t got back together?”

“Bryce she just pushed a human out of her body. This is hardly the time to think about getting back together.”

“I know exactly what she just did. I saw it, remember? I’m used to putting things in there, not seeing them come out. This has been a learning curve.”

“Don’t be gross.” I burst out laughing at him.

“Let me finish, who has gone to every appointment with her the last three months? Who rubbed her feet and back nightly? Who was the first person she wanted to feel that baby kick? You have been her partner in all of this Casey. You two are just too stubborn to do anything about it.”

“Bryce I can’t think about this right now.” I sigh, getting up and heading back to Jackie.

“Then don’t think.” He shrugs, squeezing my shoulder as he passes.

“Because that makes so much sense.”

———————

“Do you want to meet her?” Jackie beams at me from where she’s lying, nursing a tiny human at her chest. Her hair is stuck to her face, slick with sweat, but she’s never looked more content. “Of course I do.” I perch beside her cautiously, winding an arm around her shoulder.

“This is Valerie.”

“Valerie Varma. Nice alliteration.” I grin, kissing the top of Jackie’s head without thinking.

“Shut up.” She laughs, turning her head upwards so her lips meet mine. The both of us freeze, staring at each other.

“You told me love wasn’t enough sometimes. But what if it is? Maybe not every time, but right now. For us. I love you, Jackie; I love you and I want to be there; for both of you.” I gesture down at the baby yawning in her arms.

“You are so sappy. Aren’t I supposed to be the emotional one?”

“You’re seriously teasing me? Now?”

“Get used to it if you’re sticking around.” Jackie says simply, a smile playing on her lips as she gazes down at her daughter.

“That’s a yes?”

“Yeah. Maybe love is enough.” She tenderly strokes Valerie’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, brow creased thoughtfully.

*i know it’s a piece of shit, especially at the end- but it took me a frickin’ week and I’m dying*

#choices #openheart #playchoices #stories you play #fanfic #pixelberry #jackie x mc #jackie varma #bryce lahela #casey valentine #zaid mirani #fluff #oneshot #choices open heart

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huntertales · 5 years

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Part One: Family Ties. (As Time Goes By S08E12)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader are surprised when a man who claims to be Henry Winchester, the boys' grandfather, suddenly appears in their motel room closet demanding to know where he can find John. Henry has time traveled to the future to stop a demon named Abbadon. Through their grandfather, the brothers and the reader learn more about their bloodline and legacy. The reader even learns about her father, Andrew, and his own past that turned him into a demon. Word Count: 5,868. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Pregnancy was supposed to be a "beautiful thing." Right at this very moment you were creating a new life, a future human that was half of you and half of Dean. While you carried on through your day and slept at night, in your womb the baby was growing its limbs and internal organs, its small little heart was beating away. Maybe it was a wonderful concept. And maybe the struggle would be worthwhile when you were at the end of all of this, with the newborn you carried for nine months cradled in your arms. But right now, from how your morning was going, you wanted pregnancy to be like the way you thought it was when you were six. Where a stork dropped a baby at your front door one day—and congratulations. You’re a parent. There was no morning sickness, no obnoxious symptom to disrupt your daily life.

You were pretty sure this was going to be your first—and only—child you were ever going to have in your life and you were already hating everything about it. You were barely scratching the surface of how symptoms you were going to experience. Not to mention, the body changes you were going to have along with the weight gain, and the worst of it all, the child birth you were going to have to endure for your little bundle of joy. You didn't understand how women out there in this world who went through this multiple times in their lives just to have a family.

"Remind again why I want this baby?"

Sam grimaced slightly from the view he was being subjected to this morning with you face down in the motel toilet, doing everything in your power to make the churning feeling in your stomach go away. You had three glorious days of almost no symptoms that ended with you complaining about the smell of someone's food being awful or you upchucking breakfast. Your streak was broken when you woke up with an upset stomach which you prayed would just remain as what it was. Your luck went sour like your stomach had after you managed to get dressed and ready for the day. This was where Sam found you after he came in your motel room to ask if you wanted breakfast. Your response was throwing up from just even thinking about the word.

"Relax. You have a few more weeks before the morning sickness is supposed to end." Sam, who had been leaning against the door frame, reassured you that the worst would soon be over. Not like he was the one who had to endure this punishment. You lifted yourself up from the toilet to give the man a glare from his stupid facts. Before he could say anything, you found yourself quickly returning back to your position face down when another wave of nausea hit you. "When you're done puking your guts out, make sure you take your prenatal.”

You gave the man a sarcastic thumbs up at the plan as you coughed one more time, getting the last remaining content of your stomach before it was empty. You waited a moment or two for you to gather some strength to lift yourself up from the toilet bowl and push yourself up into a sitting position. You flushed the toilet and contemplated how the hell you were going to get back up on your feet. All though you were starting to feel somewhat normal again, when you attempted to push yourself back up, you were still feeling a little bit dizzy. Sam outstretched his hand for you to grab ahold of so he could easily lift you back up without even breaking a sweat.

“Thanks for the helpful reminder, Mom.” You said. You walked past him and back into your motel room to wash the aftertaste out of your mouth when you fixed yourself a drink of tap water from the small kitchen area and spit it out into the sink after gargling for a few seconds.

"How'd you sleep last night?" Sam curiously asked. You shrugged your shoulder shoulders as you grabbed the light pink bottle from the counter top, thinking the man was just trying to make small talk. But it seemed he was checking up on how you were doing in the exact way you told him to stop doing. "Have you been getting enough?"

"You know, the five cups of coffee with the espresso shot and energy drink that I had yesterday really made it seem like it was gonna be kind of tough. But the handful of Xanax that I took really knocked me out last night." You said. Your tone of voice was causal as you shook out one pill into the palm of your hand. Sam's expression showed you that he wasn't the least bit amused. "Yes, Sammy, I've been getting enough. I try to get at least seven hours, eight if I'm lucky. And if it makes you feel better, I took a nap yesterday from the drive out of Michigan and then crawled right into bed after we got to the motel.”

"Good. I'm just checking." Sam said. You let out a sigh, knowing it was more than just being a concerned friend who was trying to make sure you were getting your recommended sleep. As you filled up your glass with more tap water to help swallow the pill, Sam found himself asking you another personal question. "Have you been making sure you're drinking—"

"Yes, Sam! I've been drinking eight glasses of water. I avoid caffeine. I sleep much as I can and take naps when I don’t get enough. I'm trying not to get stressed. But you're driving me up the wall and making me want to take a drink from all your questions!" You accidentally found yourself snapping at the younger man when you realized he was doing it again. He was being overbearing and obsessed with every move you made. You popped the pill into your mouth and took a sip to swallow it down. "It's not that I don't appreciate you being my midwife. I do. But I think you've just been…”

"Obsessed? I like the term helpful." Sam said. His lips stretched into a small smile as you rolled your eyes. You knew that you would be a nervous wreck without his support. And things had been going smoothly over the past few weeks with him helping you keep track of everything and hold you accountable to the things you needed to do. You couldn't help but feel there was another reason why he was being so helpful, other than for the sake of him doing it because this was your niece or nephew you were carrying. There was always more. “If I have to be honest, it's been a good distraction for me. Another reason to remind me for what I had to do."

"Is the baby the reason why you didn't go back to Amelia?" You asked him in a dead serious tone of voice. You always wondered what really made him want to stick around after he had a life that he wanted for so long, with a woman he loved for the first time in a long while. "What if I wasn't? Would have you stayed anyway?"

"It's part of it. But it was the right thing that I needed to do. There's still so much going on, and soon, it's not just gonna be the three of us." Sam said. His reasoning sounded legitimate and understanding. You nodded your head as you continued to finish the glass of water. "Speak of Dean, I convinced him to stay in town for another day. Said you weren't feeling too good and needed to go to the doctors. I made an appointment at noon for us to see an obstetrician."

You found yourself accidentally starting to choke on the water you were trying to swallow down after you heard the words come out of Sam's mouth. "You, what? You had no right to go behind my back and do that! What if Dean finds out what really is going on?”

“He won't. Not right now. I just want to make sure everything is fine with you and the baby." Sam said. You felt yourself suddenly feeling a little stupid for the outburst you had when your mind wandered in the wrong direction. "You're almost three months and you haven't even been once. Don't you want to be safe?”

"Obviously. I've been dying to take a peek at the thing that's been making me miserable." You mumbled. Your hand rested itself on your stomach as you felt yourself grow a smile at the fact you were going to be able to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time and its tiny little body on the ultrasound. "But it's not like I had the time lately. Between runaway prophets, Cas acting all funky, not to mention you and Dean having your issues. My calender's been kind of booked up."

“Well, clear a few hours for me. I was thinking after we get done with the appointment we could have some lunch. Just the two of us.” Sam suggested. “You know, if you’re done puking your guts out.”

Sam had you thinking the afternoon could have been a nice and sweet bonding time between the both of you, as this was going to be the first spur of the moment appointment you should of had weeks ago, but then he kept on talking. You mocked his smile at his sense of humor and nodded your head for him to start walking out the motel room. after you slipped on your shoes to head to the boys' room that was next door to yours. Dean had been getting ready while Sam was questioning your every life choice you had been making over the past few days.

"Morning, sweetheart." Dean greeted you in his usual way, his boots in his hand. You smiled at him as you attempted to walk past him and to the bed, but you found yourself being pulled back lightly by Dean when he grabbed you by the wrist. You knew exactly what he was trying to do when you saw him leaning forward for a kiss, but for his own safety, you turned your head slightly so his lips hit your cheek instead. He gave you a slightly confused expression at your odd behavior this morning. "What? My morning breath that bad?"

"No. I'm not feeling all that great. Didn't want you to catch whatever I have." You said. You rubbed your stomach as you made your way over to one of the beds to sit yourself down. "I think the diner food I had last night is messing with my stomach or something. Or maybe I have the stomach bug or something. I heard that's going around."

“Really? Weren’t you not feeling too good a couple months ago? Come to think of it, you haven’t been acting all that right for a while now. Maybe you should go to the doctors.” Dean said, agreeing with the plan his brother had discussed with him last night after arriving at the motel that was only supposed to be a one night stay. “You know, I can take you if you want—” “No!” You found yourself cutting off the man from his generous offer from your personal panic at the thought of him going anywhere near the appointment Sam had made for you. Dean’s slightly taken aback expression made you realize what you had done. Your lips stretched into a smile as you composed yourself to give him the fake reason why so he would back off. "No, that's okay. I know you said you wanted to head into town to get some supplies. And complaining last night that you never get any time to yourself. Sam can take me. We'll be gone for a few hours. It works out.” "I mean, I was kidding about the whole 'alone' time. We were stuck in the car together for ten hours. But I got a good night's sleep. I'm ready for the day to be wasted in Urgent Care." Dean said. His words might have sounded like sarcasm, but he was offering up the chance to help figure out what was going on with you. He gave you a smile, wondering if it might help convince you. "I can make Sam do the supply run." “Don’t worry about it, Dean. It’s fine.” You reassured him, brushing off his offer. “Right, Sammy?” “Yeah. Totally.” Sam said. “Don’t worry about it.” Dean felt the slightest bit disappointed at the idea of not taking you, his girlfriend, to do the one thing that he should do when you weren't feeling well. Instead it was his brother who was doing it. Come to think of it, he noticed that you and Sam were acting awfully close these past few weeks since he decided to stay. Closer than normal. Like this morning when he was getting ready. Sam headed over to your motel room after getting ready. Normally the younger Winchester was the early riser, you were next and Dean crawled out of bed a short while later. All of you ended up in the same space to try and wake up with your morning coffee before getting a start on the day. But lately the routine changed. During the times that you and him shared a motel bed he always woke up with you still sleeping right next to him, or still in the same room. But he found himself back to the same sleeping arrangements with his brother like how it used to be while you wanted to bunk alone. And yet he always still found himself waking up with nobody. You and Sam were in your room having a full blown conversation. When he got himself ready and headed over, the second he stepped into the room, the both of you instantly fell silent. And when Dean asked what you were talking about, you always responded with "nothing." Dean didn't know why, but he felt a little bit...left out. It was like he was thrown out of the loop about what was going on. And it seemed like it was important. He knew things between him and his brother were a little bit rough over the past month since he gave up the lifestyle he wanted. Things were slowly getting better every day. But for some reason he found himself feeling like he was being excluded from a secret that you wouldn’t tell him. Maybe it was all in his head. You and Sam could have been discussing the simplest of topics that he might not have been interested in. Yet each time he tried to figure out what you were talking about, you brushed him off that it was just "nothing" or you changed the subject completely. It was nothing, Dean tried to reassure himself.But he didn’t know why that little white lie wasn’t helping him feel better.

Dean mocked his brother at his offer when the man turned his back to go to the bathroom as you sat down on the bed, distracted by your phone when it buzzed a few times to notify you of a new text message. Dean sat himself down on the chair and went to put his shoes on. You felt your lips stretch into a smile at the familiar names pop up on your screen, it was Charlie getting back to you after the both of you had been texting over the past few days since you left the festival to help keep her crown. And the other was from Josh, who wanted to check up on you after not hearing you from so long. You and the boys fell into a moment of silence doing your own things, and as you were writing out a response to Josh to reassure him you very much alive, your attention drifted away from the screen when you heard what to be rattling.

You wondered where it was coming from in the room, expecting it to be near the wall closest to the parking lot when a noisy car was drifting by. However you noticed that it was coming from the most odd place of all—the motel closet door You furrowed your brow in absolute confusion when you heard it open and slam shut without anyone touching it. You tucked your phone back into your pocket when you saw a complete stranger was crouching down on the ground. No rhyme or reason of how he got here. You slowly looked over at the boys, wondering if you were losing your mind. But they were taken back at the stranger in their room.

“Which one of you is John Winchester?” The stranger asked. The three of you responded with blank expressions as you pushed yourself up to your feet as he did the same. But your silent response to a man who had been dead for years wasn’t what he wanted. “Please, time is of the essence! Which one of you is John Winchester?”

"Uh," Sam gave the man a verbal answer. "Neither."

"That's impossible. That's absolutely..." The man muttered underneath his breath, his eyes falling to the ground as he began to think to himself at what step he must have messed up. Your eyes drifted to the boys for a moment, wondering what in the hell was going on here. He wiped his nose, which you noticed was dripping a little bit of blood. "What did I do wrong?"

"Who the hell are you, mister?" Dean questioned the man.

"Not now. I'm thinking." The man said, brushing off the three of you as if you weren't here. Dean did what any smart hunter would do, he slammed the stranger straight into the closet door he jumped out of, pinning him so he couldn't run or do anything stupid. But it seemed the stranger wasn't here to hurt you. "Please. I can assure you there’s no need for violence. One of you must know John Winchester.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said. “when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions.

“Yes, my apologies.” The stranger as polite enough to correct his behavior before he directed his attention to the older man that had his forearm pressed against his chest. Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me?" Dean’s eyes narrowed on the man, as if he was showing that he wasn’t hesitant to pull any moves on him if he had to, but he backed away from the stranger. He pulled out a white handkerchief from his suit pocket to wipe his nose clean. "Thank you. Lady and gentlemen, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding. I'll be on my way."

Sam stepped in front of the man, stopping him from going anywhere. “That’s not happening.”

“There are things of grave importance.” The stranger said. It seemed he was growing impatient and frustrated from being stopped to complete what he was trying to do. But you weren’t exactly pleased at seeing an unfamiliar face jumping out of the motel room closet. "I do not have time to deal with the likes of you."

The man tried to step past Sam to get to the door, but in the matter of seconds, Dean whipped out a pair of handcuffs and worked with his brother to get the man pinned down so they could cuff him. "You're not going anywhere, double oh seven.” Dean said. “Till we get some answers.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the brothers try to cuff the stranger to the motel chair. There was a bit of a struggle between all of them, but when you heard clicking, you thought the stranger was going to be safely secured. However he managed to pull a fast one, somehow cuffing the boys to the chair together. You were too distracted from what just happened, letting the stranger slip away outside. It seemed the stranger who looked like he just jumped out from the "Mad Men" time period knew a few moves.

“How did he do that? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean grunted. He struggled to get himself out of the cuffs along with his brother, but it was no use without the key. “You gonna stand there and stare at us Y/N, or are you gonna help us?”

"Nah. I think I’m gonna watch you two Houdini your way out of this one. I've always wanted to learn how you get out of handcuffs so quickly." You sarcastically replied. Dean didn’t think you were the least bit funny. You rolled your eyes and made your way over to the bag where he got the cuffs from to get the key and help them get free. "Relax. Don't get your boxers in a twist."

You helped the brothers get free from the cuffs after you found the key buried deep in one of the pockets. After you did so, the three of you wasted no time in heading out the motel door to see where the stranger wandered off to on foot. You scanned the parking lot to see if you might be able to find a distant figure trying to make a run for it to go where ever he expected to find a dead man. But he wasn't going anywhere on foot. He was trying to hot wire the Impala. Dean wasted no time in creeping up on the man when he was leaning over to pull out a few wires to try and hot wire up the engine. Before he could be successful, the sound of the safety going off Dean's gun made him stop.

“Nice taste in wheels.”

The man sat up straight in the seat, knowing well enough there was no way out of this one. He could try, but it would only end up with a bullet through his skull. “Yours, I presume?”

All of you were back in the motel room with the man with no game, who demanded to know where the late John Winchester was. You stood back with Dean as Sam conducted the usual experiments on the stranger to make sure that he wasn't a monster. He was cut with a silver knife and doused in a bit of borax to cross off shifter or a leviathan. The last step was holy water, which the only reaction he gave was a slight chuckle, seeming to know exactly what it was you were testing him for. He was clean of everything you hunted.

“I could have told you that.” He replied as he pulled down his suit sleeve to cover the slice mark on his arm that proved he wasn’t any monster who was affected by silver.

“Yeah, well, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you.” Dean said, pushing himself up to his feet and approached the stranger with his gun still in his hand.

“I’m quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend.” The stranger thought it was a smart enough to make insults to the man who was holding a loaded weapon. You crossed your arms over your chest as he continued talking as if you were too stupid to understand much of anything. “And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.”

“Let me tell you what I understand!” Dean shouted at the man. He pointed the barrel of the gun directly at the stranger when he was now leaning down at his level, his other hand holding a fistful of his jacket. “Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?”

"John Winchester is your father?" The stranger asked. He sounded rather surprised, like he had no idea the man he was looking also had a few children of his own. You were starting to wonder who he was and where he came from. Before you could ask for any formal introductions, you found your gaze wandering away from the man when you felt the ground beneath your feet starting to shake again. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was coming from the closet door again, the exact same place where the stranger jumped straight out of. He jumped out of the chair when he realized what was going on. “Oh, my God.”

“What?” You asked him, having a feeling he knew what was coming.

He tried warning for you and the boys to run, but it was too late for that. The motel closet door swung open on its own, and yet another person came walking straight through, but this time, it appeared to a woman dressed like she was straight out of the fifties. You noticed from the style of her dress and the pearl necklace. What caught your attention was the blood stains all over the pale blue fabric. You had a feeling it didn't belong to her. The woman eyed all of you for a moment before directing her attention to the man you were trying to interrogate just moments ago. But it seemed from the turn of events he wasn't the enemy here, she was.

“Henry. Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells were never your best subject, were they?" The woman spoke directly to the stranger you knew as Henry now. She moved her gaze away from the man and towards the sight of three unfamiliar faces. Dean might have been holding a loaded gun, but she didn't seem the least bit fearful. "Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends quickly."

“You know I can’t do that.” Henry told her.

Her lips stretched farther into a smile, “You’re not a fighter, Henry.”

When a mysterious woman covered in blood comes through your motel room closet door, you didn't think it was a smart enough to engage in conversation with her. Dean attempted to take his shot when she was momentarily distracted, but she proved herself to a woman of many talents, and something that wouldn't be the least bit harmed with a simple gun. With the simple flick of a wrist, you and the boys found yourself flying backwards across the motel room, your back colliding with the wall before you dropped to the hardwood floors.

You felt yourself momentarily distracted by the pain you felt in your backside before you rolled to your side. You pressed a hand to your stomach as your mind instinctively remembered about the very thing inside of your body that could be lost due to something like this. Being flung across the room and falling was going to leave a lot more damage than just some bruises. You had a couple tumbles here and there, but nothing bad as this. As pain in your backside began to subside, you began looking for any warning signs that something could be wrong—cramping, severe back pain. But you felt fine, the breath knocked out of your lungs started to come back.

“Josie.” Henry tried talking to the woman he must have known, who was possessed by a demon if you had to take a guess. “I know you’re still in there.”

“I’m afraid Josie’s indisposed, pet.” The demon mocked the man. “It looks like it’s just you and me.”

The demon laughed at Henry's attempt to reach his friend that was buried deep inside her own skin. She might have thought that she was in control here, but little did she realize that you had something to kill her once and for all. Dean crept up behind the woman and shoved the demon knife straight into her back.. You heard her let out a piercing scream of pain when she felt the blade being shoved into her backside as she dropped to her knees before Dean yanked out the weapon. Ruby’s knife had never failed you once when it came to killing a demon, but it seemed like this wasn’t the case here. Josie huffed out a heavy breaths as she placed her hand on the lower of her back, easing herself through the pain before she somehow went back to normal.

“What in the fresh hell is going on?” You found yourself muttering underneath your breath. You stared at the demon just across the room who was still breathing, and fully recovered from a wound that should have killed her. When you saw Sam coming forward and helping you back up to your feet, you quickly grabbed a hold of his hand and tried to distance yourself from her far as possible.

“Well,” The demon composed herself as she inhaled another deep breath when the pain finally subsided. “That is no way to treat a lady.”

You didn't exactly want to stick around to see if one more stab wound might be the one to kill the demon once and for all. You had a feeling it would be like poking the beast before she decided to rip you all apart limb by limb. Sam yanked on your arm and nearly pushed you forward so you were in front of him and he could follow right behind. The both of you raced out the front door with his brother and Henry, making a run for it before the demon could decide she wanted a bit of revenge.

You nearly threw yourself into the back and crawled across the leather seats to give Sam much room as you could before he was getting inside himself fast as he could. Dean turned on the engine and backed out of the parking lot in a lightning fast speed, and before you were even prepared, he slammed on the gas pedal, getting all of you the hell out of here. You sank into your seat as you inhale a deep breath from everything that was going on faster than you could keep up with. As the motel began to grow nothing more than a distant landmark in the rear view mirror, you looked over at Sam, having a feeling you weren't going to be making it to that doctor's appointment after all.

+ + +

Dean decided to make the choice of driving into the outskirts of town to give all of you some distance from the demon. It gave you enough time to catch your breath and figure out what was going on, and why she wasn't affected by the knife. The Impala came towards a stop when Dean parked it at least a few miles away from any near places, giving you at least some privacy. You got out of the backseat along with Sam, Henry was the first one out as he bolted straight out to the grassy fields where he could freely get sick from what was going on. You grimaced when you heard the familiar noises you were making just a short time ago. You looked away when he coughed up the contents of his stomach straight to the ground.

"Can you kinda not do that?" You muttered underneath your breath. “I already puked once this morning. I would rather not do it again.”

"Are you okay?" Sam asked the other man, deciding to be the one to show a bit of concern.

“Yes, I will be.” Henry reassured all of you. He pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket once more to wipe away the bile from around his mouth to compose himself and get back up to his feet. “It’s just all the adventures I enjoy are usually of the literary nature.”

"Yeah, well, now that you're done blowing chunks, you want to tell us who Betty Crocker was?" Dean questioned the man, thinking it was about time all of you got some answers to figure out what the hell was going on.

“Abbadon.” Henry answered. “She’s a demon.”

“No kidding. Where’d she come from?” You asked him. “And while we’re at it, where did you come from?”

"She's from hell." Henry said. Your face fell in annoyance at the blatant answer you could have figured out for yourself. He adjusted his suit sleeves and continued on answering your questions about himself. "I'm from Normal, Illinois—1958."

"Yeah, right." Dean smiled slightly, thinking the man was pulling his leg for the hell of it. Henry responded by giving the older Winchester a deadpan stare. When you realized the man was telling the truth, you let out a sigh, wondering how your life always kept getting stranger and stranger the more you stayed in this hunting business. "Seriously? Dude's time traveling through motel room closets? That's what we've come to?"

“Well, think of it this way,” You said, trying to see the silver lining of this situation. “at least the crazy is coming to us this time.”

“If you could just take me to John, we could clear all this up, I'm sure.” Henry said.

“I've told you that's not gonna happen.” Dean said in a sharp tone. Henry had the audacity to ask why he couldn't. The older Winchester was feeling himself being pushed to the edge of what his patience would allow himself to handle before he lost it on the stranger he only knew the first name of and the year he was from. And for some reason he wanted to see a man that had been long gone. So, Dean turned to the man to tell him the cold, hard truth. “Because he’s dead!”

Henry's face dropped from the information that made it seem like his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach just from the expression on his face alone. He found himself muttering no underneath his breath only for him to hear as he turned around, his back to the three of you. You furrowed your brow slightly from his reaction that seemed rather odd. John could have only been so young back in the late fifties. You didn't understand why this Henry person traveled fifty-five years into the future to see him.

"What's it to you?" Sam asked the man.

"Everything." Henry said. "I'm his father."

You felt yourself being thrown through a loop at what you just heard. You've traveled back in the past twice to meet Mary and John when they were still a young couple, you've even met the boys' grandparents on their mother's side. But you've never had the pleasure of meeting John's father, who you heard walked out on the family when he was a young child. And here the man was, somehow in the year 2013, time traveling and dragging along demons with him.

In this very moment you were standing next to two Winchester generations. And if that wasn’t weird enough, you were carrying the future generation that would be brought into this in the next seven and a half months. There was one question that crossed your mind; What the hell were you getting yourself into with this family?

[Next Part]

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bolbianddolanhouse · 5 years

Text

BNHA self insert AU

Nani the heck is this? Read here!

Chapter 12: Ni es Secreto, Soy un Pinche Chingona!

It’s a few days before Culture Week and I have everything ready for the whole week. Only thing left is to make some treats to sell at the festival, I got permission to use the school kitchen to make conchas and agua fresca for that and got them done the night before day 1. Mimi and Jin get their outfits done and we practiced a group thing to talk about culture shock, it was going to be lit and I was showing excitement.

Day 1: Family and Home culture

I was the last one to leave the dorms to avoid spoiling my surprises. I was in traditional wear of long skirt, hand embroidered shirt and serape. Along with the braids in ribbons pinned up into loops and simple makeup, I looked like a real muchacha. I roll up with the squad in their traditional robes and we didn’t care about the stares we got as we walked the halls. We sat in homeroom just to hear the announcements and we parted to our mini tour of the classes to talk about our culture. I gave my family and home presentation along with a sampling of the conchas I made to boost my sales at the end of the week. I walk to hero class when I usually have that class and run into the Big Three.

“Palma-san! You look so decorated! I always forget that you’re not Japanese.” said Nejire.

“You really do look like a woman from your culture” Amajiki said shakily “so colorful”

“Yes so effortlessly beautiful” said Miro as he grabbed my hand to kiss it. I pull my hand away before his lips met them.

“It’s impolite to kiss an un-courted woman in public in my culture” I said to integrate the theme of culture “Oh but here! have a sample of the treats I’m selling at the festival. I’m raising money to fund scholarships for international students going into hero work and I’d appreciate it if you’d tell your classmates to come and buy from me.”

They take a bite of the concha and their eyes widen “This is delicious! Palma-san you made this?!” exclaimed Amajiki.

“Yes I did! glad you liked it!” I said as I gave a polite smile “well I have to go and give another presentation, hope to see you at my stand later in the week!”

I briskly walk to the class just so I don’t run into anyone else I didn’t want to talk to. Meanwhile in the hero class...

“I wonder if Palma-san made it to school?” said Uraraka concerned “I didn’t see her leave the dorm.”

“I heard she’s here but she’s in full traditional wear” said Momo “I can’t wait to see her! from what Kendo said, she looks like a natural beauty!”

“She’s been so busy lately, maybe she was late?” said Jiro “I saw her car in the parking lot.”

“Class to your seats” said Aizawa “its a bit early but we’re having Midnight and All Might sit in today’s first half of class this week for a special presentation.”

“What kind of presentation sensei?” ask Midoriya “does it have to do with laws?”

Midnight and All Might walk in quietly and shuffled to the back of the room to take a seat as Aizawa spoke “No, not that type of presentation. It’s a peer presentation by somebody you know very little about.”

The class starts to murmur on who it could be, then I slide open the door. Everyone stops to look at me in my traditional wear, the room so silent that you can hear the click of my ankle boot heel on the tile as I walked.

“Buen dia a todos! Thats hello everyone one in Spanish!” I said putting my wicker hand basket on the front table.

“What simplistic beauty you exude Palma-san! OH! what should we call you since your the presenter?” said Aoyama.

“Hmmm, you can call me senorita Palma or Itati, both are honorifics in my culture.”

“How is your full first name an honorific?” asked Kirishima

“My first name is from a dialect spoken by the natives in Mexico and part of South America, it means flower that grows in the water. We take great pride in our given names that we address each other by full first name basis to show respect to the name and the person.”

“Such beauty and loveliness within the name too!” said All Might “you really grew into your name.”

I blushed and diverted my gaze to my basket “oh please have mercy, it’s superstitious to make an un-courted woman flushed with such compliments! It’s said that if a man makes the single woman flustered with compliments, it will delay further the day they’ll meet their future spouse!”

Midnight teased All Might “Seems like pushed that day too far ey Yagi?”

“Anyways, any body in the mood for a sweet treat?!” I said opening my basket and using my quirk to pass out the conchas and explaining my stand and what I’m fundraising for.

“So soft and yummy! You made this?! Such a talented young lady! Your mother must be proud to have raised such a young woman! I will definitely buy from you!” are all the compliments I got for my conchas. As they were distracted, I loaded up my slide show presentation of home videos and pictures of my culture and family.

“Ok lets get started! As you know, I’m American born but my roots are from Mexico. Today I will be sharing a glimpse into my culture and family and why I am the way I am. Here’s my family, and here’s my family before coming to America. It was just my parents and that little girl right there, that’s my older sister! In my culture, you’ll often see families of 3 or more children. If you want to see it in terms of quirk types, double quirks is a very common thing. The 2 most common quirks are elemental and telekinesis, science believes it has to do with the environment in Mexico but I think it has to do with our lively hoods for survival. Here you see a bunch of men and women fishing, cooking and crafting goods with their quirks...these people are working. Just like how heroes here use their quirks to work, they do too but for more practical reasons. There’s not a huge hero culture in Mexico, we do however have a HUGE tourist culture so all of our energy and business is geared toward the tourists and visiting heroes that come and enjoy our weather and beaches. Here’s a picture of my family’s businesses, on my mom’s side, my grandpa owns a seafood shack and uses his water and low range telekinesis to fish. And one of her uncles owns a denim pants brand and designs them using his quirk that manipulates thread, kind of like Best Jeanist. On my dad’s side, grandpa was a farmer and an english teacher, he had the earth and plant growth quirk to manage a farm and his 8 children. Grandma was a nurse and used her super speed quirk to assist doctors and upkeep the household. My family now, consists of 3 children and my hard working parents. We have a very strong sense of family and dynamic to support each other. My dad would set up heavy things, older sister would help him, little brother would clean the unreachable areas and I would help my mother with the cooking and other housework. I learned how to cook for a large family with all that time I spend in the kitchen helping my mom. I can cook anything and make it delicious for a group of 15 or more with my experience. You might ask, well what about your fighting techniques? Heres a short home video of my siblings and I fighting over who’s turn it was to get on the roof to clean it... if you paid attention, my sister lands some heavy punches on me and my brother but they’re with form and I grabbed her at just the right time to suplex her right on top of my brother before they ganged up and threw me over the garage. They have the power quirks, so I have to get crafty with the fighting moves for the copy or, if my mom shows up to use the erasure, keep fighting without quirks to assure my dominance. In Mexico, these wrestle like moves are called Lucha Libre and it’s become more of a spectator sport than an actual fight technique nowadays. As you see in this picture, these luchadores are masked and in a hero-like uniform, this is all part of the performance/fight. It’s an amazing thing to watch! Heres a short clip of one of my favorite matches as a child...See that freaking finisher?! That’s called the flying golden eagle and I have yet to use it on somebody so who knows! Maybe in our next training session I’ll use it on one of yall. Even though I’m a middle child and in my culture, middle children don’t get married or finish school to take care of their aging parents until they die. I’m breaking that cycle by being here to fully finish school and go to higher education because I crave knowledge. To finish this presentation with something cool, heres a home video of me and my siblings cracking open coconuts with our quirks!”

Everyone claps at the end and I get a bunch of hands up “oh jeez uh I have time for 3 questions, lets go with Midnight.”

“Yes I have a question about Lucha Libre, who taught you how to do the techniques?”

“Oh I taught myself and I practice them on my siblings when we’d get into fights on a near daily basis. Over time I just made it my default to pick up on new moves every other day.” I get murmurs and I pick my next person “next uhhh, Mina”

“What was that meal you were cooking in the picture with your mom? Those were some big pots of food.”

“Oh that picture was when we were cooking christmas dinner! In the pot I was stirring was beans, next to it was fideos or tomato pasta, on the stove is ponche or cinnamon tea with seasonal fruit and the one next to my mom is birria de chivo or goat cooked in red chili paste.”

“YOU EAT GOAT?!” said the class in shock.

“Yes its good meat! always reminds me of christmas mmhm... ok uhhh last question, Todoroki.”

“I don’t fully believe you were the weak one in your family, what are your family’s quirks?”

“Great question! My mom has Full range Telekinesis and Erasure, my dad has metal manipulation, my sister has Rampage and Fire and my little brother has Elasticity and Flight. My mom is the most powerful that she can stop our fighting with just one look! My dad can make anything out of metal, he can do this thing were he takes a small piece of scrap metal, put it in his mouth and chew it around, spit it out and its a whole new thing like a screw or hook. My sister has two power quirks but they’re hard to control because of Rampage, if you didn’t know, thats in the emotionally triggered category and hers is triggered by anger. When you get her angry, she gains super strength and speed plus with her fire, boy you better pray you don’t get on her bad side. My little brother can stretch his body and fly with speed, excellent for air attacks. Though I can levitate, I can’t move at his speed so often if I’m not careful when in the air, he can air strike me down.”

“So what you’re saying is, you aren’t the strong one, you’re the smart one” said Todoroki making sense of it “I understand now.”

“Yup! and that concludes my day 1 presentation. Thank you so much for listening, tomorrow I’ll be doing folklore storytelling so get ready to be enchanted!”

I go to my next 2 presentations then lunch, I met up with Mimi and Jin to wind down a bit. We’re just happy that we’re not wearing pants and nobody is being racist. I go make the rest of my presentations until the end of the day. I drive back to the dorms to prepare and rest for my storytelling portion. I get praise for my commitment from the others and ask if I can make them some of that ponche when it gets colder out. I go to bed much happier than I was a week ago, my favorite parts of me were coming back.

Day 2: Folklore Storytelling

I dress up in a plain orange huipil and a white ankle length skirt with the same makeup look and ankle boots. The braids were simple with ribbon weaved into them and I brought a bunch of small hand instruments and puppets to do my storytelling. Mimi and Jin were doing food presentations and I got a bit booty tickled because theirs are so easy to talk about. I do my rounds and get really into my storytelling. When I get to the hero class, I get a bit more special with the experience.

“Hola clase 1-A! Como estan hoy?” I say in high energy.

“Hola senorita Palma!” said everyone in unison.

“Ok for this presentation, I’m going to need the desks to be pushed back quite a bit and everyone to sit on the floor please.” Everyone quickly does what I requested and gathered around as I finished setting up. “Really quick, Shoji, may I copy your quirk for this one?”

“umm yes sure” he said softly as I put my hand on his cheek. I spout 4 arms and 2 mouths for all the instruments I was going to use. In the other presentations I just used my levitation to do some of the instruments but I couldn’t play the wood flute and talk at the same time.

“Today, I will be sharing some of my favorite folklore from my culture the way a street performer would story tell. Heres the story of the Legend of the two Volcanos, a love story of Princess Iztaccihuatl and Valiant Warrior Popocatepetl.” I hear the soft gasps as I played the music and moved the puppets with my quirk and the shocked expressions when they saw that it was a sad story. “...and today you can see the two volcanos as they stand vigilant as an eternal testament of the love Popocatepetl had for his Princess.” I look at the class and see tears as some of them were moved by the story.

“That warrior is so manly to beg to the Gods to stay by his love” Kirishima spoke up, wiping his tears away.

“Oh my, well I’m glad you were moved by that story! Let me tell you a more light hearted one, how about the patron saint of Mexico Virgin Guadalupe and how Juan Diego’s faith brought hope to the people of Mexico.” As I told the story, I heard the awes and wows from the class as they see the journey Juan Diego went through to bring hope. “...and so on that very hill, you can visit the shrine with the people’s symbol of justice and hope with rose bushes planted everywhere. All thanks to one man’s faith, every year on the day of the apparition, we sing La Guadalupana to show our faith to celebrate our symbol and Juan Diego.” I start singing the shorten version of the song and the class started clapping in rhythm, really getting into it.

“Wow! what beautiful singing” said All Might “as one symbol of justice to another, that was a very touching story.”

“Thank you, thank you for your kind words and claps” I say as I check the time “hmm, it seems like I have time for one more story! What do you want to hear? A ghost story? Another love story? OH I KNOW! How about the tale of the Rabbit and the Jaguar?”

“Yes please! That one!” said the class in unison.

I start to tell the story and I take a quick peek at the audience during the chasing of the rabbit and everyone is intrigued by the puppets and story. It made me really happy that I wasn’t being ignored. “...and legend has it that you can still see the rabbit on the moon, laughing at how he tricked the Jaguar.”

“If I were the Jaguar, I’d eat the rabbit before it tricked me!” growled Bakugo “no way I’d let some cutesy animal get the last laugh.”

“Oh si? Then why do you fall for my tricks mighty Jaguar?” I said snidely as I put the puppets away “I’m the quick witted Rabbit, and you the gullible and cocky Jaguar”

The class went ballistic with that roast, Bakugo got mad that I made a factual point. I say my good byes and set off to do the rest of my presentations. After school, when I got to the dorms, I saved my voice and rested for the next day.

Day 3: Holidays

I woke up extra early to put on day of the dead skeleton makeup and a catrina outfit. I changed up the colors to greens, golds and yellow just to mix things up. I put on a crown of silk sunflowers, posies and lilies on my head to accent my braid loops. I was going to talk about day of the dead and milestone birthdays. Mimi and Jin were doing the same and they were just as decorated as me, you would’ve thought we were aristocrats of our country. As I walked class to class to give my presentations, I played the guitar and sang La Calaca. The sound of my singing echoed throughout the halls that some people peeked out of there classes to see who was singing but I guess I was singing well because nobody asked me to stop. As I made my way to the hero class, the others heard the music softly playing down the hall.

“What beautiful singing! thats definitely Seniorita Palma!” said Hagakure “I wish I understood Spanish to resonate to what she’s singing.”

“I’ve been picking up on some Spanish, I want to make some conversation with her today” said Iida so proudly.

“Are you gonna confess in Spanish?” asked Midoriya.

“nnn-No! I just want to practice is all!”

“Practice for what? to ask her father for her hand in marriage?” said Kaminari “are you going to claim your princess oh valiant warrior! Better say it quick before she turns to into-”

He was cut short as I walked in singing, everyone gasped at the change of colors and skull makeup.

“Seniorita Palma! you look like a spring goddess!” exclaimed Momo.

“Oh gracias! Your compliments on my looks make my heart flutter.” I put my guitar down and start setting up for my presentation. I start of day of the dead and set out the offerings while explaining the history and what everything means. “...for this alter, I’m paying respects to 3 very important people in my life, for my grandfather Joaquin, Frieda Kahlo and La Fiera.”

“Why those people?” asked Sato.

“Glad you asked! Joaquin is my grandpa on my dad’s side, he inspires me to be the very best at what I do and go beyond with education and hard work. Frieda Kahlo is a famous artist that became one to cope with her chronic pain and traumatic events, she inspires me to be expressive as an outlet for my emotions and that even the worst things can be expressed beautifully. La Fiera is a famous and decorated lucha libre westler, I admired his stage presence as a witty and zingy tough guy. I aspire to be as witty and crafty as he is and I pay homage to him every time I fight, I use his spin moves and flying finishers.”

I then moved on to the next few things like Quinceanra, Christmas, birthdays and religious rites of passages. “...and for being good ninos y ninas, I brought some Mexican candy for yall.” I use my quirk to pass out the candy and everyone was perplexed by it.

“Question, this is candy?!” said Iida standing up “this is covered in chili powder!”

“Mine is just chili and lime powder!” said Mineta.

“Thats the norm in mexican candy, spicy and sour covered sweet things. My favorite is the dried mango in chamoy, spicy plum sauce!”

“Its DELICIOUS!” cried out Bakugo with a sandia con chile lollipop “The spice is perfect! I’ve been missing out on this stuff!”

“I thought you might like it!” I said packing my stuff “that wraps up today’s presentation, tomorrow I’ll be performing at the open stage with my squadron and some other students! Sensei will let you know which time slot you guys will see our performance.” I said my good byes and picked up my guitar to sing to my next presentation. When lunch came, I got a text from Iida

[Hola Itati! Puedes comer conmigo hoy?]

I giggled at his attempt [Si puedo, adone?]

[estoy en la patio]

[ok a yi voy]

I walk over from the classroom I was at with my guitar playing Ay Mama Inez as I was walking to the patio. Little did I know, I was being watched from the second floor,

“You’ve been spying on her for a week already Shinso” said his friend Tetsutsu “you should go talk to her!”

“I’m trying to find the opportune time” Shinso said sighing “she seems like a girl of reason, I can’t just go up to her and say that I’ve been spying on her. She’ll get on defense and end me.”

“nah! she’s a nice girl” Tetsutsu said as he took a sip of his drink “when she trained with some of us, we swarmed her with fighting questions and answered all of them with ease and kindness that when we fought, I didn’t expect her to kick all of our asses so brutally!”

“Not surprised, she’s got the guts and beauty” he said as his eyes followed me to the patio to meet up with Iida “seems like I’m not the only one who wants her attention.”

Cut to Iida to the patio and hearing me approach. I do a quick spin as I ended the song.

“Brava! Lovely singing Ita!” he said clapping.

“Gracias Tenya!” I said leaning my guitar against the tree we were under. “oye, estas aprendieno espainol?”

“uhhh translation? I don’t know that much spanish hehehe” he said nervously.

“You just answered what I asked hehehe, I asked if you were trying to learn spanish.”

“OH! yea I am, I wanted to try my conversational with you, if you’re alright with it.”

“sure! lets start” I said without missing a beat “Dime un secreto”

“Did you say tell me a secret?” he asked as I nodded “ummm.....ok! El jugo de naranja es my gasolina, por esto tomo mucho de eso.”

I bust out laughing “con razon! Ay Tenya es muy chistoso! Por esto es me cais bien.”

“how do I ‘fall good’ on you?”

“Oh its a spanish saying, to ‘cai bien’ means to get along or to be eased by. With us, I get along with you.”

Iida gets a bit blushed “Tu me cais bien tambien Itati, looks like I have alot to learn huh?”

“Why did you pick up on spanish anyways?” I said taking out my tupperware of fruit salad “You tryna get married?”

“WHAT?! No! wait- is that a thing?”

“Yea, if you learn the home language of someone you fancy” I said chewing on a piece of melon “it’s with the intention of asking their parents for their hand in marriage. Thats what the spaniards did to native mexicans post invasion society.”

“Well I don’t know about all that but I just wanted to learn because” he started as his gaze shifted onto me “because I thought it was interesting and I don’t hear you speak it really. I-i really like your accent when you speak in spanish, it’s sounds very warm and inviting.”

I nearly choke on my melon chunk and get flushed. We did more conversation but I had a feeling at the back of my mind that maybe he does like me. But he has a chance to ask me everyday but never takes the chance, I guess I’ll never know I say to myself as I walk to my next presentation. After school, I prepare and sleep early for all the things I had planned.

Day 4: Performance Arts

I get up early to get all my costume changes and instruments ready for my set. I get to school to do a quick sound check and set up. I do a marching band parade kick off, the members are some of my intelligence classmates of all levels and years & the rest were me using a clone quirk I copied from a 2nd year. And of course I was the drum major, big hat and mace fantasy along with custom uniforms for everyone since UA doesn’t have a marching band. I did my songs between acts with costume change.

“I can’t wait to see what senorita Palma has planned for their acts!” excitedly exclaimed Uraraka “I bet its something over the top!”

“I don’t know how she’s going to top herself after yesterday” said Tokoyami “but whatever it is, it’s going to be impressive.”

Everyone gets settled in the outdoor assembly area and Present Mic gets on stage.

“Everybody say HEY!” crowd is slient “oh boy- lets give a welcome to our opening act! Take it away UA MARCHING CADETS!”

In the distance you can hear a booming “BAND, TEN HUT! HoooOOORA!” followed by a 3 whistle blows. The marching arrangement of Can’t Hold Us starts and the crowd was looking around to see where was the music coming from.

“We don’t have a marching band” said Jiro confused “who and where is that music coming from?”

“LOOK! over there!” gasped Midoriya as the parade of 20 people came down from inside the school. Everyone was perplexed by the sound and the in sync all the marching was. The song changed to Funkytown and everyone was getting in the groove. I was doing fancy mace work to wow the crowd.

“I wonder if Palma-san in that group kero?” asked Asui “she mentioned she played the saxophone and knows how to play jazz and blues.”

“I want to know who’s the person in the front” said Kirishima wiggling to the beat “the way they’re twirling that staff is breathtakingly stylistic! I bet that’s their support item!”

As the parade made it up the stage and arranged themselves as the song ended, Mic walked up with the microphone “WOW! That projection! Give it up to our super cool drum major that made this marching display possible, the stage is yours!” he said as he held up the microphone.

“Thank you Mic sensei” I said as a took off my hat to reveal my face and curly hair “HELLO UA! For those that don’t know me, My name is Itati Palma, intelligence 1st year! I am American born with Mexican roots and while in America, I actually was part of a school marching band, I played saxophone and trained to be a drum major. Crazy how I went from a band kid to agent in training huh? I couldn’t do it without the talents of my band members here! Why don’t y’all take off your hats and show our audience?”

They took off their hats to show that 5 of the members were me. “thats right folks your eyes don’t deceive you! I made 5 clones of myself to fill in the missing saxophone, cymbal, tuba, quad and clarinet players. Everyone else is from the intelligence program across all levels and years! Shout out to them! We have one more song and our first act will start, band are you ready?”

“CADETS!” they shouted as I conducted them to the tune Fly Me to the Moon. The song ended and we got backstage to get my next set ready. After Mimi’s polka dancing and Jin’s mini drama act was my latin jazz set. I played Vida es Un Carnival and Girl From Ipanema with my clones and 2 other members as the drummer and bassist as my ensemble. Next 2 were some folktale acts then it was my classic jazz set, same ensemble but in jazz club fantasy, we played Summer Wind and Moonlight Serenade. That was supposed to be it for my sets but one of the student acts got their costumed teared at a crucial place and couldn’t do their dance, I swooped in and said that I’ll do a solo bilingual song. Mic announced me in and I walk out in a back up dress, in case my latin costume ripped or stained.

“I dedicate this song to all the people that are in love and can’t find the right words to tell that special someone how you feel. Maybe this song will help.”

I start playing Tu Amor and all of 1-A looks at Iida, but he doesn’t notice them, the song made him feel like it was just him and Palma. At the end of the song their was an uproar of cheers and I was taken back at first but I smiled and bowed before turning it back over to Mic to end the assembly. I had to do that assembly one more time for the other half of the school then I had down time before school ended. As I was loading everything into my Jeep, Iida walked up to me.

“Ita! oh good thing I caught you before you left.”

“hehehe silly we live in the same dorm!”

“right hehe WELL I wanted to tell you that I was impressed by your performances! You never cease to amaze me with your talents.”

“thank you! I loved preforming for everyone, I feel so at home when I get up in front of everybody to entertain.”

“It shows! umm I wanted to ask you something” he said hesitantly “I was wondering if you’d like to see the fireworks with me at the festival, I wanted to tell you something important under them.”

“Oh that sounds nice but it would have to depend if I sell out before they start”

“Oh right your stand! I’ll tell everyone to buy from you so you can join me.”

“I’d love that! Thanks, but why can’t you tell me your important news before the fireworks?”

“Oh because um” he stammered “I wanted to make it memorable, it’s your first festival here. Since you can’t really look around the stands, I thought we’d enjoy the fireworks at least.”

“Thats very sweet of you, now I really hope I sell out before nightfall!”

We head to the dorms in my car and I rest up for the next day. Meanwhile the girls confront Iida.

“So so so so, did you ask her?” asked Mina as she bounced.

“Yes I asked her but she can’t unless she sells out at her stand” said Iida full of nerves still “I can’t believe I’m finally going to tell her...what if I mess it up? what if she doesn’t sell out and misses the fireworks? what if-”

“Chill out Iida-kun!” said Jiro “its hard to mess up, she’s a smart girl, she’ll understand and give you an answer. And if you’re so concerned about her missing the fireworks, just go to the stand and watch them from there.”

“Jiro-chan is right! Palma-san is going to spend time with you regardless, I’m rooting for you two.” cheerfully said Momo.

“Momo-chan, are Iida and Palma your OTP now kero?” asked Asui “I thought you wanted Mirio and Palma to happen?”

“Yea but given the current situation, Palma doesn’t have anyone on their tail nor is seeking” explained Momo as everyone uncomfortably listened “Tokoyami and Palma isn’t suitable, all the other boys are either already shipped or undesirable, that leaves Iida as her best option.”

Everyone goes to bed just to make Momo stop talking about her ships because it was starting to get cringy. Iida lays in bed acting out how he was going tell Palma how he feels.

Day 5: Culture Shock

Nothing special planned for this day, it was a talk show/interview situation on the school broadcast hosted by Mic sensei. Myself and the other international students of UA, all 10 of them across all grades and programs, talked about coming over to Japan and hero culture. I didn’t talk too much about it to avoid that traumatic event that lead me here. Everyone tuned in to hear and see us. I go about my normal school day to upkeep with the lessons I might of missed and got my baked goods and agua fresca ready to transport and sell for the next day.

Day 6: The Festival

I get up early to get ready so I can set up my stand before the grounds opened to the public. I get dressed in the back of my car with Mimi and Jin covering me as I changed into my blue campeche dress with white ribbons in my braid loops. I paired it with a simple make up look, mexican flag seprape and yellow rose hair pins to hold up my braid loops. I wore my huaraches because I know I’m going to be standing all day to sell this bread. Right away I get a bunch of customers and it was nice but after a while I didn’t get steady customers. I was selling agua fresca faster than conchas by midday because of the heat and the other stands were running out of bottled water. By 4pm, Iida came by my stand.

“Hola senorita, como se pasa aqui?”

“Hola Tenya, mas o menos aqui.”

“uh, translation, sorry hehehe”

“I said I was doing more or less here, like at this rate I’m not going to sell out in time to see the fireworks with you and it’s making me a little sad.”

“I see, well it so happens that I’m in the mood for something sweet!” he said taking out his wallet “give me 20 conchas and a large of the jamica.”

“Oh jeez ok, your total is 3,200 yen. Let me get you a bag for all that bread” I said using my quirk to serve his drink and putting the bread in the biggest paper bag I had “here you go, thank you for your donation to my cause! Come by later to see if I’m free.”

“Thank you Ita! I will!” he said walking away. I had no idea what he did with all that bread but business slightly picked up, I saw some familiar faces and had nice interactions with them. Then familiar face that I didn’t have a name to came up to my stand at sundown.

“Hi! Welcome to my stand” I said warmly as he raised his head to meet my face.

“Hmmm mexican sweet bread and drinks? Interesting” he said in an almost monotone voice but from the eye bags under his eyes, I could tell he was on day 2 of no sleep “say, aren’t you that intel student that took down the big three in that practice test?”

“Oh you tuned in for that broadcast? Yup thats me” I said trying not to brag or scream at him to hurry up and buy something.

“Cool, I’m Hitoshi Shinso, you train with my friends in 1-B” he said awkwardly like he didn’t know when to introduce himself or if he should’ve at all.

“Oh you’re Tetsutsu’s friend! He tells me about you” I said to bring this awkward conversation to an end so he can buy something and leave “did he tell you about my stand?”

“sort of, I just came by because I’ve been meaning to approach you since the broadcast but I’m a bit-” he said straining to keep his cool “just a bit of scaredy cat to come up to talk to you because of your uh talents.”

“Oh well uh thanks but I’m really nice, I don’t fight like that unless you provoke me” I said as I understood why he’s acting weird, he has a crush on me “well what can I get you?”

“hmm? oh um can I get 3 breads a medium of this cinnamon rice milk”

“Ok, your total is 600 yen” I said pouring his drink and getting the money he hands me, its a 1,000 yen bill “Out of 1,000- let me get your change of-”

“No need!” he said getting his bag small baggie of bread “keep it as donation for the cause. Also are you going to watch the fireworks? it’s going to start in an hour and a half.”

“Oh shit really?” I said looking at my phone for the time, it was almost 6pm and I was at my last 151 breads and few cups of drinks “If I sell out of product before then, I can but from the looks of it I might not be able”

He leaves and ping Mimi and Jin to help me boost sales a bit. Things did pick up a bit but when the announcement came on that the fireworks show was going to start in 5 minutes, I still had 20 conchas and 2 large cups of agua fresa left. Feeling defeated, I just stood at my stand to finish selling and maybe catch a glimpse of the show between sales. As they started, nobody came by and I thought man, I feel bad that it kinda stood up Tenya but he’s probably with the others having fun. Meanwhile, at the viewing area, Iida was pushing through the crowd looking for Palma.

“Iida-kun! it’s this way to the stands!” yelled Uraraka over the sound of the fireworks.

“Ita?! Ita?! where are you?” Iida yelled not hearing the people around him as he pushed around.

I sell my last bread and drink as the fireworks finished and I just started to clean up. I felt terrible and wallowed in my shitty-ness over this, even though deep down I know this ain’t shit to stress over and I’m just feeling the ruined fantasy. As I took down my signs, I heard somebody approach me.

“Hey”

“Oh hi Shinso” I said turning around to face him “how was the show? I couldn’t see them.”

“They were cool but I was going to say that you weren’t there” he said fixing his jacket sleeve “I would’ve enjoyed your company.”

I visibly blushed and let out a sad sigh “That makes me feel terrible, I wanted to join you and the others.”

“Well, the festival isn’t done yet” he tried to say to keep his cool “would you like to look around, with me?”

“I’m down, just let me finish here and I’ll be ready.”

After turning in my makings to the coordinator I joined Shinso for a nice time and it made me feel better. I didn’t see Iida nor got a text from them and I just thought he was having alot of fun with the others. At the end of the festival, Shinso walks me to my car and said our goodbyes. On the drive to the dorm I was like shit, now I have a crush on him! It can’t be so bad right? I get to my room and see everyone is pretty much either in the rooms asleep or not here yet. I took a well deserved bath in the dim lights and just tried to just relax but then the crackheads bust in for real bro hours in the dark, I listen in trying not to give myself away.

“Poor Iida, lost his chance” sighed Kirishima

“I don’t know how all this could’ve been avoided if he just sent her a text.” growled Bakugo

“but did you see that one chick confessing to him and he straight up was like ‘sorry, please move out of the way I am trying to find someone’ and moved them aside!” snickered Mineta

“I saw Palma-san walking around the grounds with that general ed student Shinso” Kaminari said gassing up the situation “looks like theres new competitor in the race to win her heart.”

I sit there in the tub thinking, they keep saying he likes me but I’m not convinced completely. Well, Shinso is kinda hot and nice to me, I wouldn’t mind being his girlfriend if he asked. And Tenya, he’s clean cut and gentlemanly, he’s ideal but he’s not convincing me that he wants to be more than just friends. Whatever happens, happens! I’m not letting some boys ruin me and my education. They leave and I emerge from my bath to dry off and teleport to my room. I change and walk toward the kitchen because a bitch thirsty and kinda hungry, then I see Iida hunched over the counter.

“Um hey Tenya”

“hmmm? OH Ita” he said as he stood up straight “I didn’t know you came back before me.”

“yeah, I sold out right when the fireworks ended” I said as I walked to the fridge “sorry I kinda stood you up like that, I feel terrible.”

“No! don’t be! I know you couldn’t leave until then so its ok.”

“But what was the thing you wanted to tell me?” I asked as I poured myself water “I really want to know, it sounded important.”

“Oh um I wanted to ask if...umm” he started and got nervous “if you wanted to uhhh be my, my.... my english tutor!”

“English tutor? thats it?” I questioned almost disappointedly.

“Yes! my english tutor and in exchange I can tutor you in math” he said adding on to his lies “I thought maybe we could make a habit of studying together since you wanted to take school more seriously.”

“Oh ok sure, I’ll be your tutor” I said as I got some strawberries from the fridge “for a moment there you were going to say something else! like you liked me or something.”

I didn’t see his expression but it was silent screaming and frustration “hahaha noooo, we’re good friends and I wouldn’t bring up such a thing!”

I fully didn’t know what to say to all that as I was suspicious of everything and every one. We talked over a study schedule and said good night. I went to sleep not knowing the hell I just started and will endure for the next few years with this Iida and Shinso thing.

-End Chapter 12-

#bnha #mha #self insert au #not canon #will update regularly #chapter 12 #ask me anything

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