#(you’re worth it!!!- but freaking out over it is an odd reaction) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

hi could i request doctor!remus with a r who’s scared of needles? love ur writing!!

Thanks babe!

cw: needles, fear of needles

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 756 words

You’ve been dreading this ever since Remus had mentioned it earlier in the week. He’s pretended not to notice (there’s no point in talking about what neither of you can help, right?) but now that he’s gotten you into his office, your legs swinging restlessly off the edge of the exam table, it’s impossible to avoid the issue.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Remus sets his tray of supplies down by the computer, sending you a little smile to let you know he’s only giving you a hard time.

“It’s not about that,” you insist anyway. “It just—it’s weird.” The paper covering crinkles under you as you squirm. “It goes under your skin, Rem.”

“Funnily enough, I was briefed on that part in med school,” he says, deadpan tone at odds with the placating hand he rests on your thigh. It works, and you still, but his heart still contracts at the tensed watchfulness of your eyes as they flit to the needle on the tray. “It’s not as sinister as you think it is, love. Might help if you quit looking at it, though.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t get it.” He frowns. “You’re not normally this squeamish.”

You look upset, wrapping your arms around your midsection protectively. “I don’t get it either. It just freaks me out, I don’t know.”

Remus eyes you for a moment, assessing the apprehensive set of your shoulders, the wariness in your expression. His mouth pulls sympathetically to one side. “If you wanted, I could tell you about everything this has in it and why it’s good for you, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to help you very much. Is it?”

“Probably not.” You gnaw on the inside of your lip, looking at him apologetically. “I know logically that you’re right, but honestly? If we talk about it much more I think it’s going to make me nauseous.”

He rubs your leg soothingly. “That’s alright. There’s not always room for logic in these things, yeah? We’ll make this quick.”

That doesn’t actually seem to help, and your arm tenses as Remus cleans it off. “You’re alright,” he promises, grabbing the syringe before using the back of his hand to tilt your face in the other direction. “Don’t look.”

“Why?” Your voice pitches high.

He makes his low and soothing to counter it. “Because you’re already nervous, dove, and it’ll only get worse if you watch. Ready?” He takes your arm in his hand, gentle but firm in case you try to move. You grip your leg so hard it looks like it hurts.

When you nod, Remus wastes no time. You’re barely able to take in a surprised inhale at the slight sting before he’s setting the needle back down on its tray, smoothing a plaster over the pinprick.

“There, done,” he reassures you, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles over the spot while he watches your face. The tension hasn’t left your expression. “Okay, sweetheart?”

You blow out a breath, seeming to shake something off you. “Okay.”

“Was that worth all the buildup?” He’s unable to resist teasing you a little, and you reward him with a small, reluctant grin.

“No, but it’s still gross.” You roll your eyes. Remus switches from rubbing your arm to your thigh, halfway apologetic. “Thanks, Rem.”

“You’re welcome, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your hair. “I ought to be thanking you, this will be the first year since I’ve known you that I won’t have to take care of you when you get the flu.”

“Don’t jinx it,” you warn, accepting the hand he offers to help you off the table. “I could be one of those people who has a worse reaction to the jab than the flu itself.”

Remus scoffs. “That almost never happens.”

You all but grunt in response. “We’ll see.” Your arms come back around your middle. “Can we get out of here? This place gives me the heebies.”

Sympathy and amusement war in Remus’ chest, but he satisfies both by chuckling as he wraps his arm around you, guiding you out the door. “You’ve really chosen the wrong boyfriend, sweetheart.”

“My trouble is with this place, not you.” Your lips turn down, and Remus thinks he feels a tiny shiver beneath his arm. He pulls you closer, just in case. “You don’t smell like chemicals and illness.”

“What?” He does his best to sound appalled, though he has none of Sirius’ talent for dramatics. “But that’s my favorite part of coming to work every morning—the lovely chemical-and-illness aroma.”

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queen-haq · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…�� You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn. He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x you #the punisher #a woman scorned

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waitineedaname · 3 years ago

Note

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

#hlvrai #frenrey #gordon feetman #benrey #my writing #okay to reblog #this is not my best work but my brain is toxic slutch rn so here you go!!!#I did not proofread this at ALL have fun lol

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gnocchighoul · 4 years ago

Note

The boys (+undateables?) reactions when they discover MC is actually a vampire?

....so I’m a dingus and didn’t realize that this was also for the undateables and just wrote it for the brothers, my bad 😅 Part two maybe? 👀

WARNING: as this is about vampires, it’s a little bit morbid. I strayed away from being too graphic, but y’know. Vampires. There’s death and blood and such.

Enjoy! :D

Lucifer

In hindsight, he really should have figured it out on his own.

But it’s not like he’s been around enough humans lately to know what Normal human behavior is.

So he just kinda took your... quirks at face value.

So what if you’re far too comfortable with the Devildom’s constant state of nighttime? Solomon doesn’t seem to mind it either, so maybe humans are just more nocturnal now.

And perhaps your Very Strong aversion to garlic is a little odd, but Mammon wouldn't eat it either for the first 600 years of his life, so it’s not that weird.

You’re also not phased by constantly being surrounded by demons and monsters, which is a little strange, but maybe you’re just like the ancient greeks. A monster fucker.

You feeling right at home in the Devildom is auspicious for the exchange program, so he doesn’t bother dwelling on it.

Though maybe he does find it a little bit weird when you really insist that he start drinking cranberry juice.

(It’s just for health benefits of course, totally has nothing to do with you prepping your next meal)

So what, you may ask, triggers his big lightbulb moment?

You fall off the roof.

And you just get right back up.

Now he knows that humans aren’t supposed to be THAT durable, so he stops you from scaling the side of the fucking house with your bare hands, and very eloquently asks you, “What the fuck?”

You shake him off. “What? Mammon and I are playing roof-ball.”

Lucifer stares. “You fell. I saw how hard you hit the ground. You should be dead.”

You laugh. “Dead? Just from a little fall like that? Are you serio-ohhh wait. You don’t know, do you?”

You give him your biggest, cheesiest grin and—oh.

Fangs.

...And now he understands why you want him to drink cranberry juice.

Mammon

You are, by far, the weirdest human he’s ever met.

Which is saying something, because Solomon is literally just a few blocks away.

Seriously, despite camping out in your room nearly every single night, Mammon has never seen you sleep, he’s pretty fucking sure that sometimes you don’t even breathe, you won’t step foot into the House of Lamentation unless someone invites you in, and who the hell hates garlic that much??

But you’ve also expressed your intense dislike for crosses, so he supposes that you’re not unredeemable.

Just weird.

But it’s incredibly annoying how you wont sleep. Your tossin’ and turnin’ is killing him, why the fuck can’t you just settle down? You need to just put your DDD down and sleep already, dammit.

He sits up, ready to tear you a new one—and pauses.

“Um,” his voice is high, somewhat uncertain, and your eyes snap over to look at him. “Why are you looking at coffins for sale?”

You sigh, a bit wistfully. “I just can’t stand sleeping in a bed anymore. I didn’t want to be rude, so I really did try, but it's been a couple hundred years since I last had one and it’s just murder on my back. I think I’m gonna just have to get a coffin. They’re so much more comfortable.”

Briefly, Mammon considers running.

Instead, he says, “What the fuck?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You do know I’m a vampire, right?”

...What the fuck—

Mammon lays back down—crosses his arms over his chest with a huff and pretends that he isn’t totally freaked the fuck out. “‘Course I do, don’t be stupid. Now go to sleep already.”

So that he can escape before you try to eat him.

“Mammon,” you sing, leaning over the bed to loom over him. He swallows hard—can’t look away from your sharp, toothy grin.

You coo, “I can hear the scared little pitter patter of your heart, darling.”

He squeaks.

Levi

Honestly, Levi is so so happy to have another irl friend who’s into video games that he looks past your strangeness.

You like to stay indoors and play games!! That’s something he has in common with you that his brothers don’t, and that’s all that matters!

...Though he does find it a little weird how sometimes you just kinda sniff him.

The first dozen times he nearly had a heart attack, and when he asked why you were doing it, he Really wasn't expecting you to shrug and say “I dunno, you just smell tasty”

Seriously. Tasty? Are you Beel or something, what’s that supposed to mean?!

He’s not entirely sure why you’re a bit of a shut in gamer though, because despite your, ah, quirks, you’re still so much cooler than he is, so what’s the deal with that?

When he asks, you just shrug and say, “Old habits die hard, I guess. Real sunshine hurts, but virtual doesn’t, so I just got kinda used to living through games and staying indoors.”

“Oh.” Levi’s a bit surprised, but sympathetic. “So, you sunburn easily?”

He’s not entirely sure why you’re laughing now, since that wasn’t a joke. He was just trying to be friendly :(

But then you hug him and he’s too flustered to be offended anymore jndcks

So, when does it finally click for Levi that you’re a vampire?

You guys are having a game night in his room.

He accidentally takes a sip of your caprisun and realizes, very quickly, that it is not the refreshing juice of a caprisun pouch.

He throws up a little bit.

And screams.

And maybe blacks out for a few seconds.

But when he finally calms down and lets you explain, he’s pretty damn enchanted, because this is just like Help, My Roommate Is A Vampire And I Didn’t Know Until A Vampire-Hunter Mistook Me For Them And Attacked Me!! :D

Satan

Satan considers himself to be somewhat of a detective, y’know. His brain is just filled to the brim with Big Smarts

Naturally, he puts that jelly thicc thought tank of his to good use and realizes very quickly that you aren’t totally human.

At first, he isn’t totally sure what you are.

And then a coffin gets delivered to the house, which upon seeing you cheer “Oh sweet, my new bed!!” aaaand he puts the pieces together.

You become somewhat of a case study to him. You’re the first vampire he’s ever encountered and he just wants to know everything and anything about your life.

He’s so intrigued by you.

But you frustrate him SO much.

He wants to know about how you were turned!! It’s not like he has any other vampires that he can ask about their experience!! And you fucking tell him a different story every day!!

“A cat jumped over my deceased body!”

“I was stabbed and the wound wasn’t treated with boiling water!”

“On a dark and stormy night, I came across a palace and the owner, a hospitable gentleman, let me take refuge there. But then, I quickly realized that I was actually a hostage, and when I tried to escape, that fucker turned me!”

“Nobody put an obolus in my mouth to pay the toll of the Styx, so Charon the ferryman sent me back! What a great guy.”

“A chupacabra bit me!”

Needless to say, he considers breaking the wooden leg off one of the dining room chairs and stabbing you with it, but the lecture he would get from Lucifer just isn’t worth the effort.

He’s gonna pull the truth out of you one of these days.

Asmo

“My my, darling, what sharp teeth you have~” Asmo purrs, lifting a finger to brush against them, doe-eyes wide and curious. “The better to eat me with, hopefully?”

You smile. “Something like that.”

And you fuckin’ bite his finger.

His scream is fantastic. If you actually draw blood next time, maybe he’ll even shatter the windows!

He swats your leg sharply with a silk folding fan and cries, “What if you had broken my skin!? Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes into maintaining this soft, supple skin?! What’s wrong with you, you psychopath?”

“Don’t hit me,” you pout, scooting away from him. “I couldn’t help it! You just smell so sweet and I haven’t had any blood in a while, so—”

“Huh?” Asmo blinks, looking a bit confused. Then recovers far too quickly and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, so that’s what you’re into! What a pleasant surprise~”

You thunk him on the back of the head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to tease a vampire?”

Asmo’s grin could rival the sun.

“A vampire?! Well why didn’t you say so sooner?”

He’s already taking off his shirt.

“Get over here already and take a bite out of me~”

Beel

When he finds out that you’re a vampire, his first thought is to worry over if you can eat normal food or not.

He’s very relieved when you tell him that you can, so long as you’ve had enough blood, but that garlic is a very big no-no.

Naturally, you two bond over how both of you never quite feel full.

It’s not uncommon for the other house members to find you two laying face down on the floor, tummies rumbling, whining about how you’re staaaaarving

You carry around snacks for him, and Beel makes sure that you’ve always got access to blood (whether that means stashing blood bags, letting you feed from him, or a combo of both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

He’s probably going to be the least weirded out by your ~undead tendencies~

Honestly, he’s a bit relieved by how strong you are. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or see you get hurt, and it gives him peace of mind when he realizes that you’re actually pretty durable!

But it does give him a fucking heart attack the first time he sees you yeet yourself out a second story window to crush poor, poor unassuming Mammon.

He also really loves how your body temperature naturally runs cold. He’s a space heater, you’re an icicle—it just works. Snuggle time is good :)

He totally compares the size of your incisors with his jkdcnkj

He just thinks you’re really neat!!!

But he is very sympathetic about how you cant eat good garlic bread :(

Belphie

Listen.

We all know this emo boy is a vampire fucker, probably even more so than Asmo.

(He read Twilight. He saw all the movies. He had merch.)

(Fuck Edward and Jacob though, he was Team Alice all the way.)

(If he can stay awake long enough, he reads really shitty vampire romance novels.)

He just thinks vampires are hot, okay? He can’t help that his soul longs to be a vampire fucker.

Just accept it into your heart. Belphie already has.

So needless to say, he’s THRILLED when he finds out that you’re a vampire. He tries to play it cool though and pretends that he isn’t immediately trying to jump your bones dfghjkjh

He overheard you telling Satan that you got bitten by a Chupacabra, and they’re known for going after cows right?

He is a cowboy, y’know, guess you’re just gonna have to go to him now when you’re thirsty, y’know, since you were bitten by a Chupacabra. it just makes sense, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(No it doesn’t)

(But let’s be real, are you gonna pass up the chance to snuggle the shit out of him AND get a snack out of it? No. No you’re not.)

(He totally makes you arm wrestle Beel to recreate the “Iconic” twilight scene with Emmett and Bella.)

(When he realizes that you’re strong, he’s gonna make you give him piggyback rides, just like Edward and Bella :) and no he doesn’t care how ridiculous you both look)

#gnocchicanons #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #swd obey me #obey me

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somebody-909 · 3 years ago

Text

Stalkyoo After the Formal (pt.1) - Role Reversal and Yeong-Gi's Denial of His Feelings

The black and white formal acts as a turning point in Shin-ae and Yeong-gi’s relationship, establishing their friendship and giving them moments of romantic tension.

It all leads to the emotional finale on the hospital balcony, where Yeong-gi first feels genuine romantic feelings for Shin-Ae.

This analysis looks at key moments that show how Shin-ae and Yeong-gi’s relationship changes after the formal arc — displaying emerging romantic feelings, and why their roles seemed to have reversed: it is now Yeong-gi who is hesitant to get any closer to Shin-ae, and she is the one eager to connect with him.

Ep. 75 | Elevator - Why the awkwardness and melancholy?

When Yeong-gi first sees Shin-ae after the balcony he seems quite... polite and distanced. He doesn’t act like the Yeong-gi of the past at all. He doesn't joke around with her like he used to... He doesn't smile or act friendly and he awkwardly turns away after looking at her.

He only smiles in the first panel, and his expression is… complicated. Note his soft smile, slightly closed eyes and slightly furrowed brows.

It's a soft, fond but slightly melancholic look.

This mixed expression is caused by genuine fondness for the person it’s for, with the additional tension and slight melancholy/sadness caused by the fact that this fondness is unspoken. This Look™, is the first expression he gives her after the balcony.

(But if I’m speaking more subjectively, this is the look people give those they love, but where it is unspoken. The melancholy associated with the expression makes it less likely to be purely platonic in nature — platonic friendships don’t often have this sense of something hidden and unspoken, and more often have relatively straightforward reciprocal affection. The romantic nature is also emphasized since The Look™ is being given to someone Yeong-gi has known for only a few weeks/months.)

At the least, this unspoken fondness may explain why Yeong-gi seems so awkward afterward:

He senses a difference in their feelings towards each other (he feels this because he is somewhat aware of the true nature of his, but Shin-ae is not/would not be at this stage)

He does not appreciate the nature of these feelings and does not want to entertain them (for reasons mentioned in my balcony analysis)

Shin-Ae also notices his odd demeanour and tells him she thought he'd be more excited - Yeong-gi's behaviour is purposefully shown to be different now. It's hard to imagine this is the same guy who'd joke around, easily and outwardly showing his joy to be around Shin-ae.

In Ep. 78, Yeong-gi is called by Shin-ae after she’s forced late when Dieter passes out. He has The Look™ while speaking to her. (Notably, Yeong-gi only has this look when they are not directly looking at each other). When Yeong-gi picks her up, he seems awkward once again… especially due to seeming like a third wheel in Shin-ae and Dieter's budding relationship.

He has The Look™ in images 1, 2, and 4. And in image 3, he seems very awkward being with Shin-Ae and Dieter. (I'd argue his expression also shows displeasure — he slightly, and under-the-surface, doesn't like what's happening).

Ep. 85 | A Bear and Allergies - Compassion, but only at a distance

After Shin-ae’s sister invades her home and Shin-ae calls over the bois, she is obviously quite unnerved and uneasy. Yeong-gi immediately recognizes this and in aims of comforting her, tells Dieter to give her a hug (which he is unable to do without freaking out so he gives Shin-ae a hug using a bear as proxy).

Yeong-gi understands how Shin-ae feels and wants to comfort her, but instead of doing this himself (eg. by talking to her, giving her a pat on the shoulder, etc...), he tells Dieter to. Although he's being a good wingman, there’s an interesting sense of Yeong-gi making sure to keep his distance, even if he wants to be there for her.

When Shin-ae notices Yeong-gi’s allergic reaction (which they think may be a fever), she reaches to touch his forehead to gauge his temperature — he quickly declines and moves her hand aside.

In my black and white formal analysis, I discuss the motif of distance and how it’s seen in Shin-ae and Yeong-gi’s dynamic — and how it’s represented through touch and their hands. Characters who want to connect emotionally will also show physical signs they do (like extending your hand to someone). Emotional connection often requires characters to physically be present together as well. Characters who want to avoid connection avoid touch and keep their distance.

Here, Shin-ae shows a desire to “reach” Yeong-gi by helping him, and this is reflected when she extends her hand and reaches to touch his forehead. A refusal of her touch in this case is also a refusal of her help and her attempt to connect to him. Shin-ae shows some slight discomfort at this – it was a harmless attempt to help him, but he doesn’t want her to.

Yeong-gi follows with an explicit verbal refusal:

“Again, you don’t have to worry about me… You just had your home broken into, you need to put yourself before me, alright?”

This is fitting with Yeong-gi’s overarching character arc — he has an extremely low sense of self-worth that prevents him from accepting others’ concern. Him telling Shin-ae to put herself before him also fits his thinking: that those he cares about are more important than him, Shin-ae included. And it doesn’t matter if what she actually wants is to help him.*

*This is an interesting trait of Yeong-gi's... despite caring deeply for Shin-Ae, he undermines her intelligence and wishes by not accepting her affection for him, and carefully controlling how close she gets. Although born from insecurity, it is also, fascinatingly, covertly manipulative.

Ep. 85-6 | Bills - I care about you

Yeong-gi asks Shin-ae if she is able to get to where she is staying for the night and she gives him more information than he asks for, showing new emotional vulnerability. He notices this and gives her The Look™ — he appreciates that she is now more open to him.

When Yeong-gi sees her overdue bills, he makes sure to let her know that her financial struggles do not determine her worth and anyone who tells her otherwise isn’t worth her time.

“Remember you’ve always got someone to lean on with your friends, okay?”

His spiel is incredibly heartwarming, and we can understand that he states these things from his own heart. However, he keeps it impersonal, stating "your friends" (not “me” or “us”) and instead allowing Shin-Ae to define whether he fits under that category as well. Yeong-gi is no longer trying to assert his friendship anymore.

After opening up more in response and letting the boys take her to the hospital to stay with her father, she removes the "Stalker" in Yeong-gi's contact name in her phone, showing development in their relationship since they first met and a large difference in how she sees him now — they're friends, and she thinks so too.

Ep. 89 | Insolence, but only for Shin-ae (and only in secret) & a Kousuke/Yeong-gi parallel

After learning of Shin-Ae's etiquette classes, Yeong-gi enters Kousuke’s office, specifically to start trouble with him. Yeong-gi is shown to try his best lately to obey his family members (namely his father), but once again we see how he is fine with starting trouble, even if it costs him, if it's for those he cares about — despite Kousuke reminding Yeong-gi of the repercussions of getting in trouble with their father, Yeong-gi doesn’t back down.

Kousuke: “You know you’re only going to anger father if he catches you being indolent.”

Yeong-gi: “I don’t give a crap if he finds out.”

Yeong-gi then aggressively asks him about the classes Kousuke put her in:

Kousuke: “It’s for her own good.”

Yeong-gi: “What do you mean, her own good?”

Kousuke: “... She’s the worst employee I’ve ever seen, so I signed her up for classes to fix her issues.”

Yeong-gi: “Have you ever voiced your concerns… tell her what she can improve upon? … She may have her flaws, but she’s a lot more capable than you think!”

Kousuke: “I’m preparing her for what’s to come her way in the future.”

Yeong-gi: “You don’t even know if she wants this career for her future! Everytime I see her, she’s miserable. Like she wants to leave. She’s uncomfortable!”

In my black and white formal analysis, I discuss how there are multiple instances— where Yeong-gi and Kousuke, as well as how they affect Shin-Ae, are purposefully contrasted — and this is paralleled here.

Consistently in these instances, (although Kousuke’s intentions are often good) Yeong-gi is shown to be the one who best understands Shin-Ae. At the very least, Yeong-gi is shown here to care for Shin-Ae enough to confront his brother and potentially face the wrath of his father, despite trying especially hard to be in their good graces recently.

However, it is important to note — Yeong-gi goes out of his way to ensure his intentions of helping Shin-ae are indirect and she does not know. Instead, he tries to help her in roundabout ways, secretly.

Yeong-gi does not want his good intentions to reach her.

Conclusions

Yeong-gi displays a notable difference in how he acts, especially around Shin-ae. His new emerging feelings conflict his insecurities, resulting in a standoffish Yeong-gi who is secretive in his affection, and calculatingly tries to distance himself from Shin-ae. But... this isn't what he truly wants, and is instead, another form of self-sabotage.

However, as time goes on, Yeong-gi cannot keep this facade up indefinitely... and he's occasionally caught off guard, giving us glimpses into what he truly feels.

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

Text

Permanent Chaos (5/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world.

Masterlist

The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves.

"Have you always wanted to be an actress?”

Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.”

He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle.

"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?”

I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.”

“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”

Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought.

Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly.

Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup.

There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?”

He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.”

I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment.

“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.”

"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle.

He laughs and it’s contagious.

My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos.

I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art.

“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them.

“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe.

Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina.

“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice.

I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.”

His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?”

I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..."

Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic.

“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup.

“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.”

I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude.

“I understand more than you think.”

Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression.

“Prove it,” I challenge him.

Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.

"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?"

I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this.

_______________________________________________

Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting.

“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker.

“It’ll be worth it, trust me!”

“Where exactly are we going?”

“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics.

I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself.

Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?"

"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!"

Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time.

Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume.

"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed.

I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times."

"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles.

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH.

_______________________________________

Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car.

“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car.

There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes.

He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?”

I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign.

No Trespassing!

“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.”

He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.”

With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule.

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area.

I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly.

Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt.

My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly.

“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!”

“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates.

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came.

He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest.

“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!”

Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now.

Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action. “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly.

Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.”

As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows.

“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip.

In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell.

Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance.

“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it.

Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos.

“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me.

I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk.

My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over.

“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself.

“Nope." I lie.

“Scared?”

“No.”

“Have you jumped from a cliff before?”

I exhale deeply. “No.”

He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze.

“And you’re not afraid?” He checks.

“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation.

He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?”

I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin.

His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time.

“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance.

I nod.

“One," he counts. “Two...”

I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this!

"Three!" Colson shouts.

I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine.

“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist.

A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped.

Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!”

“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily.

I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath.

“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness.

“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.

Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it.

Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me.

His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @thysagclub @hockeybabe87

#mgk imagine #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk aesthetic #mgk #mgk x y/n #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #fanfic #imagine

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strawberrysoup · 4 years ago

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Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 6

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader

word length: 2.9K

chapters: 6/?

warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. more detailed content warnings are included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers, click through the read more, CTRL + F “content warnings”.

notes: slightly shorter than my usual, but i needed to get some stuff fixed up. if ya’ll like my stories please consider donating to my ko-fi— a bitch is poor lmao

Steve swept you up in his arms and turned to deposit you on the landing upstairs, evidently trusting the others to keep you contained for a moment. There was an audible scuffle going on in the den, Bucky would be heard growling from outside—snapping at someone who made the mistake of asking how he’d gotten out there so fast? Tony was growling at Peter who looked seconds away from begging for forgiveness.

“You guys made it safe, I’m happy to see you Nat,” Steve drew the redhaired woman into his arms and sighed in relief, but you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement; honestly you were having trouble thinking, your brain clouded with the sudden onset of absolute and uncontrolled panic.

The moment the black-haired man had been pulled away by the delta currently stomping back up the stairs, clarity had returned to you like a slap in the face. The golden fog that obscured your vision immediately dissipated and just as quickly you’d been overwhelmed with gut wrenching fear. You didn’t actually remember kicking Steve in the face or making a break for the stairs, but evidently you had and you cursed your hindbrain for running towards the stairs—you should’ve jumped straight out the window; you had a better chance at out running Bucky and whoever else was down there than the two alpha primes and their surrounding packmates.

Before you could even take a step towards the still wide-open window, the black-haired man appeared with a green flash and wrapped around you tightly. “Shhh , pet, no. No windows for you, darling, come now—back to your nest.”

In a moment of truly unusual harmony, your consciousness and hindbrain agreed that the bed was the last place you wanted to be. That wasn’t your bed, the omega hissed tearfully, you’d never made a nest—that wasn’t yours. It could barely be called a nest, even. There hadn’t been any careful consideration regarding the placement of the pillows and blankets, there were no articles of clothing or soft items that had been scavenged or stolen to elicit a feeling of safety or comfort. Worst of all was the way it smelled. Obviously, it didn’t reek, the mix of individual scents wasn’t a bad conglomeration, but your hindbrain whined at the unfamiliarity. This wasn’t your pack’s scent.

The cohesion was jarring, and you groaned. Regardless of the reasoning, your hindbrain was aware that you didn’t get to have a pack and that reminder always hurt. It desperately desired one, but an omega’s primary objective was survival.

After all, you in all of your fully conscious state knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would never have a pack—it wasn’t a matter of wanting or not wanting at this point in your life. You were too old to be regressed into the type of omega that packs wanted, your body too badly reliant on the chemical reactions produced by suppressants after fifteen years to stop taking them. At your age, to be found by a pack meant death.

They would get sick of trying to fix you. You’d die from quitting the suppressants cold turkey. They’d beat you for disobedience until your body gave up. You were nearly thirty and that was ancient for an unbound omega and you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. Especially an old dog who was bound and determined not to be taught.

“LOKI!” Bucky bellowed as he stomped past Steve and the redhead on the stairs, looking three shades past furious.

The man holding you let go very quickly after that, spinning you away and moving to intercept the furious delta with an equally unpleasant expression. Why couldn’t you have just fucking kept it together upon meeting Bruce—that blood in the water, shark nosed asshole, if you had reigned in your panic there was no way he could’ve scented you through your suppressants. Steve was a different story, but if you’d been quick and calm you probably could’ve made it.

You scanned the room quickly; Bruce was on the bed, checking on Wanda. Bucky and Loki were on the floor fighting, half entangled with Peter and Sam who were doing their best to put their own fight aside to keep the deltas from killing each other. Steve was still halfway down the stairs with the other redhead, talking to her quietly. Tony was—

“Okay, princess, okay,” Tony was wrapped tightly around you from behind, carefully keeping your head braced between his chin and shoulder when you tried to thrash. “This isn’t fair to you, you’re way too fragile for this right now. Put your head here, breathe with me.”

“Please let me go,” you didn’t realize you were crying until you spoke, words coming out in sobs. “I don’t want to die like this, please—”

“You are not going to die, little love,” Thor sounded so sad from where he came to stand in front of you. “I’m not going to bond you, not while you’re so upset. But the results of the tests Bruce ran showed that you are in danger. I cannot allow that and no matter how angry you are with us, we will not let you suffer needlessly.”

“I’m not suffering! I swear, I swear I’m not suffering I’m, I’m happy! I’m happy living my life the way I have been. Please, let me have the choice, I want to be alone, it makes me happy!”

Trying to explain to a literal God why you deserved personal agency was an exhausting business, especially when said God was as condescending as Thor. His indulgent and sad smile was nearly enough to tip you over the edge, but there really wasn’t a point in getting angry—he obviously couldn’t even fathom the concept that what he was doing was wrong. It’s not like you could do anything anyway, you weren’t built for violence but for running away. Every bone in your body vibrated with rage; the injustice was overwhelming.

For fifteen whole years you’d been just fine. You would’ve continued to be just fine, if it weren’t for some super nosed freaks crossing your path. What were the odds of the only people in the world who could scent you from beneath more than a decade’s worth of suppressant use would have a cabin in Quebec that you happened to clean—and run into said people because they happened to show up early; an incredibly unusual situation.

It made you think about Mrs. Hunt. She’d only called to give you a heads up because of the last time, when the homeowner had tried to assault you even while he’d thought that you were a beta . You wondered how long it would take her to realize something was wrong; it was getting late and you’d yet to return her cart despite telling her you’d be there shortly.

The real question would be whether she tried to help or not once she discovered your presentation. She could try to help, try to stick them with omega theft, but they could claim civic duty like Peter had earlier. Besides, that was contingent upon her wanting to help you considering you’d lied to her for so many years.

“You’re so distressed, won’t you let me purr for you?”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare take away—”

“Little love, please—”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t even know me,” you spat, turning to address the room at large. “What kind of fucking superheros are you? Let go of me! Let me go!”

Tony sighed and hefted you up into his arms, one wrapped around your torso while the other hooked under your knees and pinned you carefully across his body. You struggled uselessly against his strong hold; he wasn’t as strong as Thor or Steve, but his bicep was massive next to your head and you could feel his muscles through his clothes as he walked to the bed.

“We can’t, princess,” he murmured into the side of your head as he lowered both of you to the bed, sitting propped against a mass of pillows in the corner. “We’ll never find an unbound omega in your age range again. Plenty of omegas have been offered to us, but they’re all practically children. You’re our last chance—”

“There are plenty! You said plenty! Pick the oldest who wants to be in this fucking shit show and leave me alone!” Everyone tensed when the tone in your voice approached a shriek.

“We’re not taking an omega who’s not even legal to drink—”

“That alpha is like eighteen!” You tried to gesture to Peter, who gaped at you like you’d wounded him, but your arms were still pinned tightly to your sides.

“Peter is twenty-four, actually,” Tony spoke with mirth when Peter jumped onto the bed and crawled until he was pressed against Tony’s side and your back. “And before you ask, Wanda is twenty-six.”

“We’re so lucky to have found you,” the alpha half purred, pressing his nose into the back of your neck. “We’ll make you happy, happier than you are now.”

“It’s gonna be a rough start,” Bruce laid down in the nest a few feet away, welcoming the woman you recognized as the Black Widow into his arms when she slithered into the bed. “We have to balance your hormones, or you will die. You wouldn’t have lasted another year on those suppressants.”

“Death would be a reprieve,” you hissed shortly, freezing when the tone of the room immediately changed.

All attention was suddenly on you, Bruce still making direct eye contact with those sad puppy eyes, “I know that feeling, sweetheart—”

“We will do it another way then,” Thor interrupted, sending Bruce a quieting but loving look. “I said I would not bond you while you are in distress anda I will never break a promise to you. Open your mouth, this will be quick.”

Steve seemed to sigh in response and followed to stand next to the other prime, “I lost my chance. You’ll help her?”

Thor leveled the shorter blond with a careful look before nodding, both showing signs of deference and affection and respect that you did not care for. The rattle of a belt prompted Tony to turn you, setting you carefully between his legs while continuing to hold down your arms with what could appear to be an affectionate bear hug. He even linked his fingers with yours, squeezing gently as you tried to squirm.

“No. No, no no no, that’s disgusting, I won’t—”

“Shhh , I’ll do all the work little love, all you need to do is swallow.”

He was jerking his cock carefully, a flick of his wrist near the head catching your eye. That was a dangerous weapon, the same way you’d come to learn Steve’s was and you had no intention of letting it anywhere near your mouth. You clamped your lips shut, teeth grinding.

“Stubborn,” Peter snorted a laugh and you would’ve snapped at him had his hand not dove between your thighs, fingers gliding through the slick lips of your cunt until he found your clit.

You had to stop yourself from screeching, the head of Thor’s cock directly in front of your face. “Very. Come on now, open up.”

The fingers pinching your nose shut came as a shock, you’d crushed your eyes shut out without realizing it and they snapped open when your face was assaulted. Steve was kneeling on the bed, carefully cutting of your air supply with one hand and stroking your head with the other.

“Come on, precious, you’ve gotta breathe,” he stated softly, smiling when you were forced to pull your lips back to gasp for breath—until he realized your teeth were still locked together. “Really ‘mega?”

The next thing you knew his thumb was shoving against your molars, literally prying your jaw open. There was no way to fight it without hurting yourself, especially once he wedged his thick thumb between your top and bottom teeth. You barely had a second to anticipate the horror before an unnecessarily large cock found it’s way between your lips.

You tried to shriek, your brain finally catching up to the whole series of events, but it was no use. His scent was overwhelming and his dick stretched your lips, your jaw forced completely open. Thor groaned, a triggering noise as he very carefully pressed forward until your mouth was completely full and he was settled against you tongue.

“Suck for me, little love, just a little,” he grunted, just barely working his member between your lips while his huge hand stroked the rest.

It took a surprisingly small amount of time for a massive load of cum to shoot into your mouth. It was thick, and the way that Thor growled immediately made your pupils blow wide like you’d done a line of coke.

Your body went lax immediately and you swallowed on instinct when a hand gently rubbed your throat. The fuzz in your brain was the result of arousal, a brutal orgasm that rocked your body at the sound in combination with your body’s sheer delight at the taste of alpha cum. Somewhere you realized that was disgusting but the haze in your brain made you more focused on the hand between your thighs rather than the indignity.

“Man, this shit ain’t fair,” Sam complained, panting from the exertion of trying to prevent Loki and Bucky from killing each other. “They get to cuddle and we—Hey! Quit that, man!”

“All of you stop fighting,” Steve’s alpha order was brutal and effective.

The sounds of scuffling from behind Thor stopped immediately and there were huffs and snarls and low grumbles but the nest started shifting all around you. You were dropped back to lay against Tony’s chest, having inadvertently swallowed the entirety of the god’s massive load.

“She’s so cute,” Wanda cooed from somewhere to your left.

“We’ll need to go over what we’re doing from here,” Steve sighed once everyone had settled, still watching your dazed expression with a small smile. “But let’s just… nest for a bit, okay?”

The word nest triggered something in your half alpha-cum stoned brained and you looked around the den with a displeased expression. It was a terrible nest; all of the pillows and blankets were in weird heaps and the scent was so wrong. You didn’t really want to nest here, your hindbrain grumbled in agreement, but you’d fix the damn thing. You whined and wriggled until Steve gave Tony the go ahead to stop fully restraining you.

The bed was incredibly soft, which was an upside and crawling across it was like sinking your knees into clouds as you collected the soft heaps of blankets and pillows as you went. You wanted everything off so you could start from scratch, brain muddled by the wrongness of the current layout. You wanted to wash the sheets, the pillow cases, the blankets, all of it. The scent wasn’t right.

“Help her.” It was a quiet request from the Black Widow, who’d also started shifting around to remove the items. “She doesn’t like it like this.”

It was easier to get everything pushed away and in neat piles with the packs’ help, everyone immediately moving to help organize the pillows. You only snapped at the blond beta—Hawkeye, your memory supplied— once for putting a soft blanket on the pile with the not soft blankets. He immediately gave an apologetic burr to which your hindbrain purred back instinctually; evidently a good reaction.

“Why does she like Clint? They haven’t even spoken.”

“She doesn’t like him, she snarled at him!”

“She hasn’t purred at anyone else!”

“Shut up, fuckin’ idiot.”

The noise you made was one of discontent and disdain, the arguing deltas immediately quieting. You didn’t argue with the chirping growl that meant displeased omega, not in a real pack where the goal was to keep omegas pleased and docile. Somewhere your brain reminded you that this wasn’t your pack but the alpha hormones filling your blood and confusing you and yet somehow all you could focus on was whining and pushing at pack members to get them out of the way as your rearranged; clicking your teeth grumpily when you were handed a blanket instead of a pillow or vice versa.

You found yourself being corralled back into the corner, where Natasha and Wanda immediately wrapped themselves around you. Thor had found Bruce and settled beside and settled near your feet where you’d built an intricate nest wall of pillows and blankets. Two of the deltas, Tony and Loki seemed to be glaring at each other—even as Tony laid himself completely on top of the other and they both relaxed into comfortable holds.

It was interesting, watching the pack dynamics as they moved between each other. Clint wrapped around Natasha from behind the same way Carol found her way behind Wanda. Peter had weaseled his way into curling against Loki’s side while tossing a leg over the man’s hip, subsequently laying it over the backs of Tony’s thighs. Sam, Bucky and Steve all found their way into a neat grouping on the bed closest to the stairs, piled as close to the subsequent piles of superheros as possible.

There was some sort of pattern beginning to form in the back of your brain but you were still too confused, too sucked into your own omega hindbrain by the overwhelming introduction of alpha hormone to your system. Instead of following the thought through to the end, you found yourself warm and comfortable and full and falling asleep tucked between the groupings of presentations as if it wasn’t totally, 100% against your will.

content warnings: forced cum eating, chemical manipulation, dead dove: do not eat

#avengers x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #carol danvers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #bruce banner x reader #clint barton x reader #peter parker x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #dark!avengers #dark!AU #pocketful of posies chapter 6

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magnoliabloomfield · 3 years ago

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Possession 14

This one is so long!! The next one will be the finale. This one has a trigger warning for crude remarks of a sexual nature to incite anger and violence, but it's nothing above a PG13 rating. And we finally get some hot cinnamon fluff, as spicy as I go lol

~~~~

Nothing in the short span of Nikola’s memorable life was harder than trying to keep a platonic distance between her and Gally. All that went through her head was that determined look on his face and the words ‘I’m yours’ passing his lips. She knew what he meant really amounted to ‘I’m your friend’, but ‘I’m yours’ just sounded so good.

Even though Alby had been helpful when Shawn had pulled his stunt, Nikola started to feel some negativity toward him, somehow blaming only him for the rule about belonging. Who had the right to dictate who one could and couldn’t belong to? She was also plenty mad at Shawn too for a lot more.

There was one day where she was thoroughly distracted though, her thoughts were far away from Alby and Shawn, and even Gally was pushed back ever so slightly. One of the goats had given birth but didn’t survive it. Nikola was caring for the orphaned kid and received much needed help and support from the dog cleverly named Bark. Honestly, boys had no imagination.

Winston had said that taking care of the kid was more trouble than it was worth, that he could put a quick and painless end to it, and Nikola was horrified.

“If you take that attitude with poor baby animals you’ll soon be taking it with human beings,” she had told him. “And the last thing we need inside the glade is people acting like the ones who sent us here.”

That had shut him up right quick, in fact, he got quite contemplative about his role as a slicer after that. He must have told others about it because soon some of the other boys were coming to check on the goat or offering to watch it while she tended to other things she needed to do. It was a positive turn on things in the glade and her position in their little world. Maybe she had gained some respect, maybe she had become more than an object in some of their minds and achieved real human status.

Either way, it lulled her into a place of comfort where she never would have guessed what was about to happen.

As she sat in the grass watching Bark be the little goat’s cheerleader as it took wobbly steps around the meadow, a shadow loomed over her. She looked up, hoping to see Gally, but she already had a bad feeling in her gut.

Shawn stood over her, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking out over the meadow as well. She didn’t say anything to him, just stared and waited a moment for him to say something. When he remained silent she turned back to what she was doing even though turning her back on him made her feel nervous. Still, she tried not to show fear.

“You don’t like me very much,” he finally stated.

“Have you given me a reason to like you?” she responded, not looking at him still.

“But you didn’t even like me before I did… that,” he pointed out, meaning the stunt he pulled trying to get her and Gally in trouble.

“That’s true,” she didn’t even lie. “And it turns out my gut was right.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because you already liked someone else? Liked them more than you should?”

Nikola felt a confrontational spirit overtake her body and she whirled around to look at him, to let fly some angry words, but he had turned and started walking off before she could get one of them off her tongue. Somehow he wasn’t worth chasing down, but what he said bothered her long after he was gone.

~~~~

Gally was in the deadheads, collecting wood again. Nikola had been so enamored with caring for the kid and so many boys had gotten on board with being a bit more empathetic that Gally thought he would build something where any other pregnant animals could safely and comfortably give birth and care for their little ones.

Really though, Winston had told him and some of the others what she had said to him and Gally took it to heart as many of the others had as well. They did not want to have anything in common with the people who sent them there. And the only proper role model was bright, hopeful, empathetic Nikola.

As Gally’s thoughts wandered around the subject of her he wandered farther into the deadheads, not noticing how he was getting farther from the other builders out there with him.

He was imagining a house he would build by the ocean, a white house made of good wood with a proper door and windows and roof. He’d build it for Nikola and she deserved the best. Of course, in his imagination they lived in it together. They would stroll along the beach, hand in hand, with no one to cause them problems, and when they were done they’d return to their safe, warm house. There would be no glade, no maze, no wicked. Just them and peace.

“Oh Gally, Gally, Gally,” someone sighed, breaking him out of his daydreams.

He looked over and noticed Shawn with two other baggers and his guts tied themselves in knots. He was there to cause trouble again. This time Alby and Newt weren’t around, they were secluded, which probably meant they were going to attempt to beat the shuck out of him he guessed.

With a sigh of his own Gally tossed aside the wood he had collected and brushed the dirt off his hands. He was almost glad to have an opportunity to cause Shawn physical pain. He stared the other boy down in silence just waiting for a reason.

Shawn wasn’t much of a fan of Gally and Nikola’s tendency to hold their tongues, a talent he himself did not possess. Shawn glanced down with a slight chuckle, shaking his head at the ridiculous situation.

“I don’t get it,” Shawn said to Gally with fake sincerity. “Maybe you can explain it to me, help me understand. How did you get Nikola to like you so much?”

Gally crossed his arms and didn’t respond to the obviously rhetorical question.

“I mean, you’re one of the ugliest shanks here,” Shawn said, unable to hold back his malicious grin while his friends chuckled behind him.

Gally wouldn’t be provoked by simple insults.

“No one here really likes you. You’re a bossy, demanding, control freak who can’t take a joke and thinks he’s smarter than everyone else,” Shawn went on eyeing Gally up for his reaction to that. The fair and freckled builder had not turned even the slightest shade of red, which made Shawn switch up his tactic. “Nikola is nothing like you. She likes to put on her mask and seem tough, but, ooh… she is soft. Isn’t she?”

Shawn had stepped up to Gally and spoke softer, laying it on thick. “Is she soft Gally? Do you even know? I bet she is under all those clothes, soft enough to sink your teeth into,” Shawn smiled when a crimson shade started blooming behind Gally’s unmoved expression. He was getting on the right track now. “I want to take a bite so bad, you know? I bet she tastes so good, even down to her p-“

Gally’s hands shot out and grabbed the front of his shirt, almost yanking him off his feet. Shawn wanted Gally to land the first blow and he was close, but no cigar.

“Is there a point to all this?” Gally asked, shoving Shawn away from him.

“I’m just making conversation on our common interest,” Shawn said holding his hands up. “You know what I mean, right? You’ve thought about it, don’t try to tell me you haven’t.”

Shawn and his goons laughed but Gally didn’t react. He suddenly felt bad that he’d in fact had thoughts about Nikola that were less than platonic, but not nearly as skeevy as what Shaw was getting at.

“But there’s something serious I want to ask you, big guy, did you really get in there? Because I’m just wondering how loose things are going to be when I get to her-“

And thats when Gally’s fist connected with his skull. Shawn was knocked to the ground with unpredicted force, but Gally was instantly over him trying to haul him back up by the front of his shirt as the other boys came to Shawn’s defense. They tried to separate them, the whole idea was to get Gally put in the pit or banished for harming another glader, then the biggest obstacle between Shawn and Nikola would be gone.

Gally was so angry he could hardly be restrained even as he was outnumbered. He managed to get Shawn back up on his feet, hands still gripping his shirt even as the other boys tried to gain control over his arms. He couldn’t get another punch in this way so he did what he could and smashed Shawn’s nose with his forehead.

Shawn flew back with a cry of pain as he held his nose, launched out of Gally’s grip. He could barely keep his watering eyes open but he managed to throw a punch and land it on Gally’s face as the others held him back as best they could.

“I thought he was just supposed to hit you?” One of the boys questioned.

“Shuck that,” Shawn growled as blood and tears streamed down his face. “He’s getting what he deserves.”

With his brute strength alone, Gally made quite an impressive stand for as long as he could, but three against one were never favorable odds. No one was walking away from the encounter without injury, but Gally was taking the brunt of it as it went on. He didn’t care, he’d rather be their target than Nikola. He’d take as many punches as he had to for her.

“Gally!”

‘Oh. Oh God no,’ Gally thought as his guts plummeted even as he was kicked in the ribs. He hoped it was brain damage and not that Nikola was actually there.

Shawn looked behind him, moving enough to expose Nikola standing there in the deadheads with a look of horror on her face.

‘Run!’ Gally begged her in his mind as he spat blood from his mouth and fought to catch his breath.

Shawn sprinted for her and she turned to run, half a cry for help passing her lips before Shawn clamped his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm tightly around her. She kicked, thrashed and struggled so hard it made Gally proud of her as he tried to summon all his strength to get up and defend her. He knocked the legs out of under one boy and tried to get to his own feet. The other boy tackled him back down to the ground and soon enough the first one assisted in weighing him down.

She really was giving Shawn a run for his money and almost slipped out of his grip when she bucked and then went dead weight. He managed to grab her pony tail and wrap it around his hand so she couldn’t pull free. His other hand had slipped from her mouth for a moment and she did her best to scream again but Shawn’s hand slapped across her mouth again as he kept her low to the ground by her hair.

“Shut up, you stupid- Ah!” Shawn was the one screaming now, a long, loud, sustained cry of pain that alerted the glade as well as anything Nikola could have produced herself.

Gally tried to see what was going on and could only gather that his hand was still near her mouth. He couldn’t take her being in danger, he had to do something, he had to get to her, he promised he’d protect her. Pure adrenaline, fear, and something else coursed through his system and he forced himself to ignore the pain. He pushed himself up with a yell of exertion and managed to elbow one boy in the jaw hard. Gally rolled over on the other boy and elbowed him hard in the side before he tried getting up as quickly as possible. It was hard, too hard and would take too long so he tried to army crawl away and hopefully he’d work his feet back under himself as he went.

But help had finally arrived. There were so many boys around Shawn and Nikola now, all clamoring over the sustained sound of Shawn’s wounded wails. Some other boys broke away and grabbed up the ones that had held Gally down. Alby, Clint, and Jeff were towing Shawn away already and then Nikola was pushing her way through Newt and Minho who were trying to see if she was ok. She sprinted over to where Gally had finally gotten up on his hands and knees and fell to her own in front of him.

“Gally! Oh my god,” her voice shook as much as her hands as they gently took him by the shoulders. “Is anything broken?”

He managed to push himself up onto his knees and sit back on his heels. He finally got a good look at her and saw a bruise already forming next to her eye and blood around her mouth.

“Are you ok?” He asked her, looking at the blood with concern, reaching up and touching her chin.

“I’m fine,” she shook her head, impatient to find out if he was ok. “It’s Shawn’s, I bit him.”

“You bit him?” Gally repeated sounding amused as a smile tugged his split lip painfully.

“I’ve never seen him smile after getting his ass kicked,” Newt said with concern as he knelt beside Nikola in front of Gally.

“I’ve never seen him get his ass kicked,” Minho mumbled as he stood behind them.

“We should get him to the infirmary,” Newt said which Nikola whole heartedly agreed with.

“But Shawn is in there now getting put back together, probably gonna be a while since you practically degloved his finger,” Minho pointed out.

“You did?” Gally panted, impressed.

“No, and that’s not important right now,” she said agitatedly. “Can we help Gally, please?”

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” Gally waved them off as he tried to sit more comfortably.

“Uh, no. You’re not,” Nikola said as she gently placed her hand over his bruised and bloodied one.

“No broken legs, no broken arms,” Gally said before using his free hand to feel his abdomen. “And no broken ribs. I’ll be ok.”

“Gally,” Nikola started to complain, her eyes sadly staring deep into his. It made him feel better.

“What happened?” Newt asked him.

Gally sighed and tried to roll his eyes but it only made him feel dizzy. “Shawn came out here to get me alone and beat me up. As you can see.”

“He just came out here and started throwing punches?” Minho piped up.

“No,” Gally admitted as he looked down and brushed his thumb gently over Nikola’s fingers still resting on his hand. “He made me hit him first.”

“He made you,” Minho repeated incredulously.

“Yes, he did,” Gally said firmly as he looked up at Minho before glancing quickly but meaningfully at Nikola.

“What?” she asked softly. Of course she noticed, she hadn’t taken her eyes off him for a second, but now she slowly pulled her hand back. “It was because of me?”

“No, Nikola, it’s not your fault,” Gally tried to tell her, reaching out for her again.

“But it’s because of me,” she said more firmly as she got more upset.

“No,” Gally said even as her eyes got shiny and she got to her feet. “Nikola, wait.”

She took a few steps backwards and her hands covered her mouth before she turned a hurried off.

Gally gave an exasperated groan as he tried to get up on his feet to go after her.

“Hold on,” Newt said, halting him.

“No, I can’t let her think this is her fault,” Gally fought him weakly.

“I think she’ll live if you let her cry in peace for a moment, she’s processing what Shawn just did to her too,” Newt said.

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Gally argued with that too and Newt saw an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes, a concern bordering on desperate.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Minho said before sprinting off after her.

“He hurt her, he put his hands on her,” Gally said as dark anger covered up the raw and tender emotion that was there before, his eyes even took a glassy sheen that pooled but would not spill over his lower lashes.

“I know he did,” Newt assured him. “And he’s going to pay for it.”

~~~~

Eventually they moved Shawn out of the medhut even though he still needed attention, and Newt helped Gally there for his turn. He kept an eye out for Nikola all the way there and only gave in to his pathetic despair once the medhut door shut behind him. He lay with a heavy groan on the cot, gravity pulling a tear from the corner of his eye. He covered his eyes with one arm, even though it hurt to rest it over his bruised face, so neither medjack could see it.

“You put up a good fight,” Jeff said after checking him over. “Nothing too terrible here… hang tight for minute, ok?”

Gally just sighed as he heard the door close behind him, the chatter of the glade murmuring through the walls around him. He just thought about Nikola and the look on her face, how she screamed his name and tried to help him. He wanted to feel angry, angry at Shawn for laying a finger on her, wanted to shove him through the maze doors that very night, but all he felt was a sadness, deep and aching. He wanted to see Nikola and make sure she was ok.

The door opened and closed again with an extra thud and footsteps approached him. He didn’t move a muscle or give it a thought until he felt her hand on his again. He pulled his arm down and ignored the scream of his muscles and bruises as he pulled himself to a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of cot.

“Nikola,” he breathed, all other speaking ability leaving his head as he looked at her sitting in front of him.

“Hey,” she said giving him an uncertain half smile. “The medjacks are short staffed today, so I’ll take care of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” he said, the very idea that he would mind was ridiculous.

Still he didn’t really know what to say to her as she started cleaning and bandaging his wounds starting with his hands. Her face was turned down as she focused on them and he watched her, feeling her gentle and caring touch on his large, rough hands. She was being more thorough and precise than Clint or Jeff had ever been.

After finishing his hands in silence she looked up at him for the first time since she came in, her eyes darting between each bruise and cut. Suddenly her chin was wobbling and the corners of her mouth turned down. In a matter of moments she was crying and he had no idea what to do. Her hands gently touched his face as she kept looking at his injuries.

“Look what they did to you,” she said quietly through the tears she was trying to hold back, leaning in closer to him. “I never wanted anyone to get hurt, but especially not you,” she said as the tears forced their way out, and then her arms gently wound themselves around his shoulders and tried to pull her closer to him.

It was too big of a stretch so she just moved herself right onto his lap, burying her face in his shoulder and crying. The pain left as his body became aware only of hers pressed against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder in return and carefully held her, feeling her there under his fingertips like a dream come to life.

She lifted her head, her sobs dying down and slowing altogether as she stayed there with her cheek against his. He dared not move, he wasn’t ready for the dream to end. She pulled back slowly, her cheek brushing his and then her nose as she turned her face. She was moving slowly, keeping her face close to his. Her nose brushed against his and he felt like his heart had caught flame and was whistling off like a firecracker. And when those soft, pink lips brushed over his, pressing a brief and gentle kiss there the firecracker exploded.

She pulled back to look at him, her red and puffy eyes taking him in. “You let me do that,” she observed, biting her lip to hold in a smile. “If you minded-“

“I would have said so,” he replied watching her look at him with as much tender adoration as he felt for her.

She smiled before she leaned in, carefully bringing her lips to his split and bruised mouth and he kissed her back this time, he didn’t care how much his lip hurt, it didn’t matter, it was nothing. She was everything. He brought a hand to her face as he felt one of hers on the back of his neck while the other slipped over his shoulder and down his chest. It slipped back up till both of her hands were cradling his neck as he kissed her again. They pulled away an inch or so and looked into each other’s eyes, his hand resting on her shoulder. He never wanted to let her go.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she admitted, bringing a bashful blush to his face. “But I didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you’d just settle for me since I’m the only girl around.”

He swallowed and tilted her chin back up to look at him. “You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me.”

That must have been the right answer because it brought on more tears and another kiss.

“Ok, let’s finish getting you taken care of,” Nikola sighed contentedly as she brushed his nose with hers once more, something she seemed to like doing, and reached for the first aid supplies from her spot on his lap.

“A little late for this question, but should we be worried about someone coming in here?” he asked, gently holding her around the waist.

“I locked the door,” she whispered in his ear as she leaned in to reach for something else.

He looked up at her in wonder as she took care of everything that ailed him, kissing each bandage and bruise, her little fingers tracing his features as she went along. He leaned in to each touch as he held her comfortingly on his lap, until he was treated. She hugged him, her hands rubbing his back soothingly until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

Masterlist

@frequentlychangingfandoms @quackquackbi @poulterjonas @crazysheeplyca @pre-google @gladerscake @neilox @thesuitkovian @carp3d1em @cottoncandy-dreamxd @emilyhadenbaker

#Possession gally fic #gally #tmr #maze runner #tmr gally #maze runner gally #gally imagine #gally fanfic #thirsting over gally's thick ankles #Will Poulter Protection Squad #will poulter

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dontjudgemeimawriter · 3 years ago

Text

Excerpt: Mika & Terran

Sharing this scene thanks to the request of @thegreatobsesso! It’s a long one so I have some under a readmore.

In rereading this I realized that one of the reasons I didn’t share this before is because I have no idea if some parts of it make sense XD. Here’s hoping.

Just a little bit of context: Mika and Terran work and both live with Zachary as assassins. Mika dislikes Terran because he killed her twin brother and she blames him for her role. Terran is keeping the fact that he didn’t kill her brother form everyone, her included. Terran and Raymond recently had an argument that ended with Raymond implying he didn’t want to see Terran again and they have yet to reconcile (this is before some scenes between the two of them that I’ve shared already).

-----------

Roasters was an odd place, with a lot of make-your-own dishes that led to a number of food atrocities. Mika was easy to find, at a table near the back. She gave me a smile when she saw me, the kind that was just a little bit forced and a little surprised. She hadn’t been sure I’d come, and she wasn’t entirely excited to see me. “Hi.”

I was still focused, but I’d almost forgotten my persona, so I recafted it as I took a step. “Hello,” I said, and wasn’t really sure how to behave—we’d never had lunch out, just the two of us, like this. “You were right, I hadn’t eaten,” I said, finally, picking up the paper menu sitting on the table.

“I already ate,” she said, gesturing to an empty plate next to her. “But…you’re welcome.” She lifted the sleeve of her sweater, showing her arms, which were mostly healed over. Some redness remained, though. “It’s healed a lot.”

“Good,” I nodded, and she didn’t say anything else. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve come. Just by virtue of her inviting me, she held the power right now. I didn’t know how to talk to her without having the reins.

My stomach growled, though, so I studied the menu, a maze of steps to pick from. I didn’t particularly like this set-up, I decided. Shouldn’t the restaurant tell me what was a good combination? But there were a few suggestions listed along the bottom, so I waited in a somewhat awkward silence until a waitress came over and I pointed to one of the items. But once I’d ordered, there was nothing to pretend to look at.

“So,” Mika clasped her hands together. There we go. “I’m not going to ask again, about…what happened this morning.” I nodded. Good, I’d forgotten—or ignored—how close she’d come to getting in that morning. “But…the thing is….” she sighed, looked at the table, then at me. She was nervous. “It did make me… make me think about something differently? Like the other day, you said you had to not care, right?” She looked at me again, and I nodded slowly.

“I’ve never thought of us as similar, I guess? But this morning…” She groaned in annoyance, but not at me. It was something Raymond did, too, get frustrated over not being able to find the right words. “You’ve always been the enemy to me, I guess. And you’ve said that it was Zachary who had you do it, yes, but you were still with him—” She sighed, stared at the table for a minute.

In the silence, I spoke up. “It’s okay—I can just accept thanks for helping you and we can call it—”

Mika shook her head. “I know you’ve been lying to me.”

I froze. Panic stirred. Okay, so she’d learned more this morning than I’d thought, shit— okay, what did she know—

“Or maybe not lying but, something?” she glanced at me, and I tried to not look nervous. “But—I can usually feel people, y’know? Or maybe you don’t—” she flicked a straw wrapper sitting on the table. “Most of the time, I can get a read on people. Can tell if they’re trustworthy or not, that kind of thing. Not enough to really get in, but just a feeling, okay?”

I nodded.

“I usually know when people are lying, because they have their guard up, even when they’re acting like they don’t.” She glanced at me without moving her head. “And okay, I get it. Nyp, like okay. Zachary does the same thing, keeping his guard up. Honestly, most people do. But most of the time, even with him, it’s subtle. I still get a feeling of them, there’s just a suppression of some kind. But with you it’s like a freaking wall.” She raised her head to watch my reaction.

And yeah, it made sense. It was the focus. Though it surprised me a bit that she’d always noticed this. Meant she hadn’t fallen for my act quite as much as I wished, but at least she didn't know anything.

“So that’s why I didn’t trust you. And it doesn't help that every time I look at you I think about…him...but maybe I could look past it if you were being honest around me.”

I nodded slowly. A disappointment that she knew I was lying, but my secrets were safe. “Okay, so I’ve got a wall up,” I said, trying to sound surprised but pleased—like I had no idea why I would but was happy it existed. “There a reason you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah,” she started wringing the straw wrapper. “I always kinda thought you just didn’t trust me, like you thought I was just a kid or too inexperienced or whatever, and I didn’t care because we’re not on the same side, right? Like I thought it was about me. And you’re just like, the next Zachary, or whatever. But,” she took a deep breath. “This morning, it wasn’t a wall.” she quickly held up a hand, before I even reacted. “I didn’t like, look or anything. But you felt like a person.”

I really should’ve focused this morning. I shouldn't have fallen asleep, shouldn’t’ve frozen in the hallway. I didn't even know if I was regretting helping her or just regretting how sloppily I had.

“And I started to think maybe it wasn’t about me?” she raised an eyebrow.

What could I say to that?

“Like maybe the wall wasn’t for me?” Mika guessed, looking a little hopeful. What was she hoping? “You said you had to not care, right? And like, I’ve hated spending the last few years with him, but it’s been your whole life, right? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I started thinking about what that would be like and how I’ve turned off my emotions and stuff. And maybe you’re not just on Zachary’s side, and if so, maybe we don’t need to be enemies.”

I leaned back in my seat, and she waited. How could I dismantle this? Should I dismantle this? If she was just getting suspicious, yes, but she already knew I was lying. Still, there was no way I could tell her anything. What did she want from me, anyway?

“What’s your point, Mika?”

She took a deep breath. “I guess I just want to know—no. I thought I’d give you a chance? Because—I think you know, I hate living like this. And okay, I have to, yeah. But if you also have to, maybe I should give you a chance. Because if there’s any chance we’re in the same boat… then maybe we can… help each other? So, yeah. I wanted to ask you… are we?” She stared at me, her eyes wide, perhaps the only time I’d interacted with her where she hadn’t wanted to bite my head off. And goddamnit, why did they have to look so alike?

What am I supposed to do here, Raymond? Because yes, we are the same. You’re trusting me to keep her safe, keep us safe, and I thought that it was working, but maybe it wasn’t, and you left me. And she’s hurt, because you left her alone and I kept her alone, and I haven’t been helping her and you want me to help her. Before, I could say that it was worth it. Worth it because her knowing the truth would put her in just as as much danger as we already were in, and she was even less likely to listen to me than to you.

But that must not be true, because nothing about that has changed. And if that’s the only reason, I wouldn’t need it. Because you left, cut me off, and she’s fucking right, I do need someone, because you were my someone.

I still couldn’t tell her. But she’s asking for help, and she’s asking to help, and it was much easier when she hated me because then I was lying but I wasn’t betraying her. But maybe I always had been, because weren’t we in the same boat?

She was still watching me, and at least I knew that I was a wall to her so my inner turmoil stayed private. But still, maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you in my head.

“It’s focus,” I said.

She frowned. “What?”

It hadn’t exactly been an answer to the question. “The wall you said?” I explained. “It’s the spell focus. It’s a Nance spell.”

“Oh,” she looked thoughtful. “Do you always have that cast?”

It felt so wrong to admit this. I nodded.

“Why?”

I couldn’t say that. Not even a rational reason, though there were a million—I didn’t trust her enough not to tell Zachary, didn't know how she’d react, didn’t think I could explain—but physically, no answer formed.

She shook her head to dismiss it. “Whatever. Okay, so you cast that spell and there’s a wall? And you didn’t have it cast this morning?”

I nodded again.

“Okay.” She nodded thoughtfully, then set down the straw wrapper. “That doesn’t answer the question, though.”

True. “If you’re asking if we’re on the same side, I don’t think you’d trust my answer,” I said. “And you probably shouldn’t.”

“If you un-cast, I can,” she said. “I won’t look in or anything—I don’t even think I could—but I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can do that. For the same reason—I don’t trust you enough.” I wished I could—wanted, for Raymond, for her to be trustworthy—but the truth was, I knew too little about her, or what she’d gotten involved in. And I still didn’t think she was good at lying. Either she wasn’t good at lying or she was very good and pulling an elaborate con— neither possibility made her trustworthy.

“What is your answer?”

“Yes,” I said, and for some reason it was easy to say, so easy that I wanted to say more, admit so much, grasp on to anyone I could talk to, but it didn't matter, because I was so tired of this, so tired of hiding it. Keeping my voice steady, not admitting too much. But if there was a chance this all got back to the Syndicate, or someone else, I needed the assurance that I could pretend I’d been getting her to trust me, not true disloyalty. “I also feel stuck. We could be on the same side, though I don’t think there’s anything to do about it.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Even if you’re lying—I’ve just felt alone, and if there’s a chance you have too, that’s all I need. Not much to do about it. And I know you don’t trust me completely, and I’m not sure I trust you, but maybe we could tolerate each other? We don’t have to talk or like, trust each other or anything, but—It’s exhausting, and I feel like it might be a bit better for both of us to feel like someone else in the house wasn’t against us.”

Yeah, it might. I wasn’t going to unfocus, but already, the stress of it was calming down. If she was willing to give me a chance, I should let her. I gave her a smile—tried to give her a genuine one, but with focus still up, I wasn’t sure if it was possible.

“Good,” she said, and with that the conversation died, something having changed yet very little. My food came out a minute later, so I got to eat at least, and I found myself so hungry that I didn’t put the toasted sandwich down, taking bite after bite. And suddenly I was self conscious, despite having eaten around Mika numerous times.

Who was I supposed to be around her? I couldn’t relax, but I couldn't put on the fake persona I’d grown so accustomed to being.

Once I’d finished the sandwich and moved on to the fries, Mika spoke up again. “Can I ask something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

She nodded, speaking slowly. “Did Raymond say anything? Before you—before he—”

I stared at my fry, tensing every part of my face, because even focusing didn’t mean I could forget about that moment. I couldn't think about it, not in front of her—even if I did have a wall, that might make it might all fall away.

I ate two fries, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat that threatened to force me to tears. Took a gulp of water.

“I don’t remember.”

Mika’s face fell. “Are you lying?”

Of course I was lying. That moment was etched into my memory. That moment was what I returned to. But it was also something—in a way, the thing—I couldn’t tell her.

I took a deep breath, and it sucked, because even if we weren’t letting our guards down, she’d opened up to me, she’d trusted me, and she’d offered me something that I needed and she needed, but I couldn’t.

How could I give her an answer? If she’d asked me this just yesterday it would’ve been so easy to brush her off, to give some sarcastic comment that would make her pissed.

“You are,” she sighed. “Fine. Whatever. We can not talk about that.” She stared out the window, jaw set.

It was unfair, though, I knew that. I couldn't tell her, but I knew it was hurting her, that she was still grieving him, and that maybe he was the only reason she was taking a chance with me. Goddamnit, Raymond.

I couldn’t lie about this, though. I couldn’t tell her his last words, partially because they hadn’t been his last, and partially because they revealed too much. But making them up was wrong. I couldn’t come up with something, couldn’t make up some meaningless last words for him. This lie may be protecting them, but that would be betrayal.

“Look,” I said, and it actually came out sounding gentle. She looked back at me. “What happened, Raymond was expecting it. He walked into that building expecting not to make it out alive—whether it was by fire or execution.” Her eyes fell to the table. “Point is, he was expecting to die. Anything he said to you, I’m sure, was far more meaningful than any last words he said to me.”

Of course, what he’d said to me had meant everything, for me, for him, for all of us— but as far as “last words” go, I was telling the truth. One thing I knew for sure was that Raymond had been ready to die, and because of that and because it was him, whatever he said to Mika was his last words.

And thankfully, she accepted it. She even smiled. “Thank you.”

I gave her a smile, too. And even though this was new, even though I had no idea what to expect, I really hoped it would be okay. I think I needed, if I couldn't have a friend, to at least not be enemies with someone.

#When I planned this scene I was walking the golf course near my school and I stopped and sat in the pavillion #in my heart this scene takes place there and they talked much more #Mika #Terran #Syndicate #my writing #excerpt #Part of this is Mika not being articulate but sometimes I can be really convuluted #So if it doesn't make sense you can ask

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wavesmp3 · 4 years ago

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before the bucket falls

jeonghan x (female) reader

requested from sensory prompt #33: the feel of fingertips trailing over a bare shoulder blade genre: study abroad/university au + apocalyptic-ish wc: 4k warnings: implied nudity i guess, maybe a few curses as well a/n: i apologize that this took me ages to finish, also the bucket list is completed out of order, enjoy!!

(0. Hear That There’s A Week Until The End Of The World)

You hadn’t expected to be so nonchalant when you hear that the world is ending in a week. Hadn’t expected to so readily accept you and your classmates inability to return home from studying abroad for the semester. And you certainly hadn’t expected to sit down with Jeonghan that afternoon (an acquaintance-made-friend in the whirlwind of apocalypse news) to create a list of things to do before the world ends.

“We’ll start tomorrow,” he declares scribbling one final item on the bucket list before folding the paper and shoving it in his pocket, “and hopefully we finish before the world goes up in flames.”

(6. Bang On The Hood Of A Car And Say ‘Hey, I’m Walking Here!’)

Your first day before the end of the world begins with you and Jeonghan searching for a car.

“This one is...” Jeonghan frowns, rereading the sixth item on the bucket list. Looking up, he says, “it was your idea wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Now, get in the car and pretend to almost run me over.”

Jeonghan complies, starting the car and driving towards you all too slowly. Still, when he gets close enough, you bang on the hood of the car, half-laughing and half-yelling “hey, I’m walking here!” He only laughs at you incredulously.

You switch after that, you in the car and Jeonghan walking across the street. And this time, when you get close to his figure instead of banging on the hood, you hear a small thud and watch him fall to the floor. You run out of the car shrieking his name only to find him on the ground laughing.

“I thought-” you exhale, breath hot with a mix of shock and relief, “I thought I actually hit you.”

Jeonghan doesn’t say a word too busy literally rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach in laughter. And when you shove him, kneeling on the ground and smacking his arm for freaking you out, he only laughs harder.

(3. Steal Something)

Unsurprisingly, number three on the list is Jeonghan’s idea. You don’t argue, not at first at least. But when you step into the convenience store and begin shoving bags of chips under your shirt and bottles of soda into your bag, you start to feel the small push of your consciousness.

“Is this a good idea?” You say to Jeonghan who’s deciding which kinds of candy he wants to hide in his pockets.

“There’s no one even here.” He waves you off pointing at the empty cash register. “So honestly I’m not even convinced if this counts as completing number three.” Deciding on a chocolate bar, he turns on his heel, grabs an extra bottle of juice, and exits the store casually.

(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness)

You leave some money at the unmanned cash register anyways. “Number eleven,” you say to him when he gives you a look, “it can be our first act of kindness.” He stares at you for a long moment, as if deciding how he should react to your inability to shoplift. You half expect him to walk back into the empty store and take your money from the counter. He doesn’t though. Instead, he smiles, a lopsided one that makes some part of your stomach twist uncomfortably, and laughs towards the ground, his head hanging in a way that makes his bangs fall in front of his eyes. You feel suddenly, almost foolishly, warm.

“Come,” he beckons, pulling at your sleeve, “let’s eat.”

(10. Eat The Perfect Meal)

The perfect meal isn’t actually perfect, an odd mix of convenience store snacks and whatever you both had left in your dorms.

“We should have cooked something ourselves,” Jeonghan mumbles, between a mouthful of chips, “the perfect meal has to be made with love.”

“It also has to be edible,” you retort, sipping your coffee and recalling your earlier realization that neither you or Jeonghan can cook.

And it’s after a few more moments of eating away the tenth item on your shared bucket list that he asks, “how do you think it’ll happen?” You look up from your fruit cup. “How do you think the world is gonna end?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, “something big perhaps. An explosion?”

“Or Zombies?” he continues for you, light-heartedly. “Aliens, maybe?”

And perhaps two days ago, you would’ve laughed at the possibility of the world coming to an end thanks to an alien invasion, but right now, sitting next to Jeonghan with yesterday’s headlines bouncing back and forth in your head, you don’t feel anything but melancholic. And like feet sinking into sand, you realize for the second time since the news came out that you have less than a week left to live. With a hopeless sigh, you say, “I hope that when the world ends, it’s painless.”

And unlike his previous suggestions, there’s nothing light-hearted about the way Jeonghan adds, “something quick.”

(4. Sing A Song Loudly In Public)

You had wrongly assumed that this particular bucket list item was meant to be a fun and embarrassing karaoke in public sort of thing. But when Jeonghan stands on the ledge of the fountain in the center of the plaza and begins singing, you realize you've created a bucket list with an angel. Or at least, a boy with the voice of one. The plaza isn’t very busy this afternoon, but the few passersby that happen to catch his mini concert erupt in a well-earned applause when the song finishes.

“You can sing?” You question in disbelief of just how good his voice sounds.

He shrugs at that, jumping off the ledge in a shy sort of way that doesn’t at all match the kind of guy you pegged Jeonghan to be. “Your turn.” He pushes you towards the ledge.

You almost fight against the nudge, almost turn around and tell Jeonghan just how tone deaf you are. But when he smiles your way and cheers your name encouragingly, you decide the embarrassment might be worth it.

It’s not, it turns out. The entire plaza seems to murmur ‘why is she singing?’ the second you open your mouth. And it’s before you even reach the second verse that Jeonghan starts clapping and whooping for you. “Wow!” He exclaims cheerfully. “You suck.”

You burst into laughter at that, cut your song short, and jump off the ledge grabbing Jeonghan’s hand and running away from the embarrassment with him close behind.

—

“Where’d you learn how to sing like that?” You finally ask, later than afternoon as you and Jeonghan aimlessly walk along the street.

He shrugs again, a familiar timidness overwhelming his body, then tells you about the singing lessons he used to take. “It used to be my dream. To become a singer.”

“Used to?”

He sucks in his bottom lip. “Things changed I guess.”

You decide not to prod further. “If you could do anything right now, right before the world ends, what would you do?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

He thinks it over for a moment, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “Hold a concert.” He answers finally. And when you give him a look, a reminder of what he said about things changing, he just smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and mutters something about how dreams die hard. And for the third time today, you’re surprised by how shy Jeonghan gets about his singing and how endearing you find it when he does.

“What about you?” He returns this question, pushing the attention away from himself. “What would you do?”

“I’d go home.” You say quietly, hoping the press of sadness that comes with thinking about home doesn’t show in your voice. “See my family once more before the world ends.” And when Jeonghan doesn’t respond or meet your eyes, you laugh, unable to procure a more creative reaction. “It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?”

“‘No, no.” He says quickly, waving away the suggestion before the words can even settle in the air. “It’s not lame; it’s…” his voice trails off, fingers reaching out in front of him as if he’ll find the right words in the last remaining rays from the sun. His hand drops to the side. Seemingly, giving up on the previous sentence, he says, “Tell me about them. Your family.”

You’re about to say no. About to change the topic to something a bit lighter. Something that doesn’t force you to think about home and the people that you miss so fiercely and long to see once more. But it’s as the word ‘no’ bubbles in the back of your throat, that you meet Jeonghan’s eyes and find a starling amount of sincerity in them. And when you go looking for your intent to reject the request, you find it’s disappeared altogether. “Okay.” You exhale. “Where should I begin?”

And so you spend the rest of the day telling Jeonghan about your family, and by the time the sun begins to set, he tells you about his.

(12. Say Goodbye To Your Family)

You both decide it’s better to get this part of the list over with. Pulling out your phones and dialing home soon after the sun sets. It’s an odd sort of arrangement, you think to yourself listening to the phone ring, you and Jeonghan sitting on opposite sides of this empty street. “Privacy,” he had told you, walking away from you and taking a seat on the curb, “this way you can cry in private.”

It’s… bearable at first. You talk to your family, update them on what you’ve been doing since your last call home as if everything is normal, as if they’re expecting another update soon, as if the world isn’t ending in a few days. But the facade that everything is fine comes crashing down the second you hear a noise come from the other side of the road, a mangled sound that rushes all the way from Jeonghan’s mouth to you, banging at your heart and creating a dent between your lungs. And you suppose that if you were a little bit closer and if Jeonghan hadn’t turned around to put his back between him and you, you would’ve heard him sobbing. The thought alone ignites a flame of sadness that emerges from your lips, travels through the phone lines, and ripples across the ocean separating you and your family.

Saying goodbye to your family does not stay bearable for long.

He finishes the call before you. And when you do finally hang up, it takes ten minutes of calming down before you're in any state to walk across the road and greet Jeonghan for what feels like the first time that night.

“Can we, uh,” you stop, sniffle, then laugh at the absurdity of this moment, “can we stop here for today.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, finally standing from the floor. He doesn’t look your way, keeps his eyes trained to the ground while bringing a hand up to wipe at his nose and eyes. “I’ll walk you home.”

(5. Wish Upon A Star)

Sleep doesn’t come that night. You spend it tossing and turning in bed, replaying every bit of what was probably your last conversation with your family. At 2 am there’s a knock on your door. Jeonghan stands in the doorway, eyes drooping and blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you say, opening the door and letting him in, “I can’t sleep either.”

After another moment, he finally says, “have you ever been to the roof?”

You let him lead the way.

—

The night air feels cool against your skin, brushing through your hair and sending a shiver across your skin. You pull your hoodie closer around you before laying down on the roof next to Jeonghan who throws his blanket so that it drapes over both of you.

“Which one for number five?” He says gesturing to the starry night sky.

“Number five?”

“Wish upon a star.” He reminds you.

You lift your hand and point to one off the center, a bright one that flickers more than the others. “That one.”

“Okay,” he exhales. You watch the breath leave from his lips. “Make a wish.”

You do.

“Which star do you think is gonna blow up and cause the end of the world?” He asks, shifting his body and ending up a fraction closer to you.

“Give me a crash course on all of them and I’ll let you know.”

He does, making up constellations and creating fake names for each one.

And at some point in his explanation of the origin of each star, his hand finds yours. The cold seems to wither away after that.

(1. Ride A Motorcycle)

“Are you sure you know how to ride this thing.” You question for the fifth time that morning, pacing around the moped and Jeonghan who’s sitting impatiently on it.

“Just get on would you?” He huffs, dropping the extra helmet on your head and pulling you towards the moped. You settle behind him, fixing your helmet and clasping it in place. “You know how to get to the beach right?”

“Yeah, but we just need to make a pit stop somewhere first.”

“That’s fine. Grab on.”

Ignoring the unevenness of your breath, you wrap your arms around his torso. You try not to think too hard about the way he momentarily tenses up when you do.

“Ready?”

“Please, don’t kill me on this thing. We’re all dying in a few days-” He doesn’t let you finish, revving the motorcycle and laughing when you scream into his shoulder.

(11. Perform Three Acts of Kindness)

“What are we here for?” Jeonghan wonders aloud, his voice echoing in the auditorium.

“Number 11. Our second act of kindness.” He looks at your quizzingly. “Yesterday you said that if you could do anything before the end of the world, you’d have your own concert. So here,” you hand him a mic and point at the empty stage, “go sing.”

You’ve never seen him run so excitedly.

(3. Steal Something)

When Jeonghan wrote down ‘steal something’, you definitely hadn’t expected him to coerce you into stealing a house. “This isn’t even stealing. This is trespassing.” You hiss under your breath, looking over your shoulder. “Plus, we already stole from the convenience store.”

“Firstly,” Jeonghan begins, finding an unlocked window to the beach house and cracking the adjacent door open, “you paid the store so that definitely didn’t count. Secondly, trespassing is basically just stealing space. And lastly,” he announces turning around and waving to the open beach house, “this place is gorgeous and free.”

You peer inside the house and--shit, it is gorgeous. “Fine.” You relent taking a step inside the house. He smiles triumphantly.

“Come on,” he grabs your hand as soon as you set your things down and starts pulling you towards the beach, “time for number two.”

(2. Send A Message In A Bottle)

“Who should we write to?”

“A friend?”

“An ex?” He grimaces at the suggestion.

“How about ourselves 10 years ago.”

You consider it. “Or what about,” you start tapping a finger against your chin, “ourselves 10 years from now.” He gives you a wary look. “Just in case this whole thing turns out to be a hoax.”

“Do you believe that?” he asks quietly.

You bite your lip. “Not really, no.”

“To myself,” Jeonghan scribbles on the paper, “ten years from now.”

And when you're both done with the letters, you fit them inside empty beer bottles and let the waves take them.

Inhaling the salty ocean scent, you watch the bottles float.

“This moment would feel a lot better if I didn’t feel like we just made marine pollution worse.”

(9. Go Skinny Dipping)

The water is freezing, cold against your bare skin and lapping by your shivering mouth.

“It’s not that cold.” Jeonghan laughs, splashing sea water in your face.

You splash him back. “For you maybe.”

“Tell me a secret.” He says suddenly, stopping and treading the water in front of you.

You think for a minute before answering. “I really like it when you sing.”

“That’s not a secret; it’s a confession.” He complains, flapping his hands in the water. With a teasing smirk, he adds, “next you’ll confess your undying love for me as well.”

You laugh, sort of, swallowing salt water in the movement and choking on the sudden intake.

Clearing your throat, you say, “give me an example of a good secret then.”

“Okay,” he hums, biting his lip and swimming closer towards you until your knees awkwardly bump into each other. You swallow at the proximity. “I’ve never been in love.”

“Never?”

He shakes his head. “Have you?”

“Once.” Something in your stomach turns. “Or at least I thought I was in love.”

“And what do you think now?”

You meet his eyes. They look strangely hopeful. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

His hand comes up, fingers trailing over your shoulder blade and lingering right above your collarbone. You shiver.

“Still cold?” He whispers.

No, you think, but your head nods ‘yes’ before the word comes out.

He swims back to shore. And soon after, you follow.

(13. Fall In Love)

You finish showering before Jeonghan, coming down the stairs of your stolen beach house and taking a seat on the stolen (but comfortable) couch. You look for the bucket list to cross out skinny dipping for him. And when you find the folded list in a pocket of Jeonghan’s bag, you realize that this is your first time seeing it since the night of its creation. You read over it carefully.

1. ride a motorcycle 2. send a message in a bottle 3. steal something 4. sing a song loudly in public 5. wish upon a star 6. bang on the hood of a car and say ‘hey, i’m walking here!’ 7. watch the sunrise 8. watch the sunset 9. go skinny dipping 10. eat the perfect meal 11. perform three acts of kindness 12. say goodbye to our families

And under the twelve that you and Jeonghan made together is another, additional bucket list item. Written in a different color pen and in his messy handwriting is:

13. get her to fall in love with me

“That shower felt so good.” Jeonghan’s voice comes traveling down the stairs. “I found sand in-” he stops, halts at the end of the banister upon seeing the paper between your hands.

“What do you mean ‘get her to fall in love with me’?” You gulp, holding up the list.

“Oh, that,” he laughs, awkwardly, slowly walking towards you, then stopping halfway as if he’s made a mistake, “I added it after you left that night. And, well, yeah.”

You stand up and go to him, meeting him halfway across the living room. “Jeonghan I-” you lose grasp of what you’re going to say next and elect to stare at him instead, studying the drop of water that falls from a strand of hair to his face. Decide instead to study the flutter of his lashes and the way his gaze darts between your eyes and your lips. He inhales. “Oh, fuck it.” you mutter finally, grabbing the collar of his tshirt and kissing him.

It takes a second for Jeonghan to react, too long your brain convinces you already beginning to pull your face away. But it’s as your lips leave his, that they crash together again, him pulling at your hips stumbling backwards until you knock your head against the wall, bodies flush. You wrap your arms around his neck, tangle your fingers through his wet hair. There’s a moan, you can’t be sure which one of you it comes from, but the sound of it has you feeling weak somewhere, everywhere.

“Upstairs,” you pant, when he pulls away for the smallest of seconds.

“Are you,” he pauses, lips hovering in front of yours and breath heavy against your skin, “are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you smile, noticing the flush in his face, glad he's just as affected, “I mean it’s on the bucket list.”

Jeonghan happily complies.

(7. Watch The Sunrise)

You both watch it in bed, from a window that seems to capture it perfectly.

“It’s pretty,” he states, holding a hand up in a straggling ray and watching it turn gold in the light.

“Only a few more left.”

(8. Watch The Sunset)

You watch it on the beach with a stolen towel from the stolen house under you. It’s beautiful really. A mesh of blues, pinks, orange, and purple.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunset like this one,” you say inhaling the salty scent of the sea that lingers on your arms and legs and hands.

Jeonghan hums, absentmindedly enough for you to turn around to look at him laying on his back and playing with a loose strand from your hoodie instead.

“We can’t cross it off if you don’t actually watch it.” You tell him, finding his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

He shrugs. “I’ve seen enough sunsets.”

(11. Perform Three Acts Of Kindness)

“Last item,” Jeonghan murmurs one day, settling into bed next to you, “one final act of kindness.”

You poke at his chest. “What do you have planned for it?”

“This.” He says, pulling out a small slip of paper. You sit up. “I bought you a ticket.”

It takes you longer than it should to realize it’s a plane ticket home.

“How and when did you…” your voice drops away, the logical questions slipping off your tongue when you make a new realization. “There’s only one ticket.”

“Listen,�� he starts, turning to face you properly. “I think you should take it.”

“No,” you refuse, shaking your head. He takes your face between your palms forcing you to stop and pay attention.

“Go home and see your family. That’s what you told me you’d do before the world ends.” He hesitates, releasing your face and taking your hands in his. Something feels entirely wrong when he starts to rub small circles into the back of them. “You only have a few days left. So go home. Say goodbye to me instead.”

“Things change,” you say a little too harshly, regurgitating what he told you earlier this week. “And I don’t know if I can go anymore.” You sputter out just barely, voice feeling suddenly course against your vocal chords, but what you mean to say is: I don’t know if I can go without you. “And besides,” you stress, putting the ticket back in his lap, “you can’t make me go.”

“Don’t you see,” he chuckles, a small, quiet sound that has no business making you feel as warm as it does, “I’m not making you go,” he meets your eyes again, and for some reason, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that this is the last time you’ll see them like this, “I’m asking you to.”

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loquaciousquark · 4 years ago

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E111 (Redux! Oct. 13, 2020)

Gooooood evening good evening good evening, all! I started the VOD late for this recap and somehow the first four or so minutes of the show have a Twitch audio copyright claim, so I am reduced to only reading Brian's lips when he asks if we're on the internet. Hilariously, Marisha's background room is a comfy-looking blue/gold fabric wall with a ceramic colorful abstract lamp and a yellow silk scarf over the lampshade, and Taliesin's is an industrial looking games room in grey and black with multiple monitors, overhead speakers, and mysterious metal fixtures behind him. What a treasure this group is, honestly.

Tonight's guests: Marisha Ray & Taliesin Jaffe, discussing episodes 110 and 111 again. I wildly speculate once more about what might have caused their absence: jury duty? Sam appearing on The Masked Singer? Something to do with the animated show? One day, we’ll know, one day... (One day this “copyrighted audio” section will come back from the wars, too. Ugh!) Finally! The audio comes back to reveal Brian discussing the endless reality of digital meetings and Marisha talking about (I think) her glare-reducing glasses she’s wearing. Welcome to the New Age (welcome to the New Age, to the New Age).

Announcements: Marisha suggests checking out Dimension20, another live tabletop gaming group, which premieres live on Wednesdays at 4pm (CollegeHumor).

Brian immediately wants to know how they feel about the revelation that Molly is alive. Taliesin’s personal reaction: he “knows some things” he can’t talk about and is aware of several possibilities that might be going on, but had a sneaking suspicion that there would not be a body for them to find. He says it’s almost all there for anyone to see in past material. Marisha’s personal reaction: she just wants to know how she’s doing with her theories, & was trying to block Tal’s face out deliberately as she was going off on her theories in the last episode. Taliesin says he thought her ideas were pretty good!

Cad has no clue what to think - it’s like listening to your friends talk about Buffy. Marisha thought it was a 50/50 Molly would still be there, but Beau had no idea. Not that it mattered, because as soon as Matt went through with it the reveal still blew their minds. Tal laid out his plans for the character with Matt during Campaign One (towards the end) after they all got their VM tattoos.

It is a “horrifying and gross” thing to dig up a body, and Beau was pretty reluctant to do it. Tal, as Cad: “Sometimes dead’s better.” The moral quandary of trying to speak with a dead friend was very different here than the frequent occasions they used the spell in C1.

Taliesin says his poker face is very bad, so it’s easier for him to over-react and let it all play out. The only other player he can see very easily from his place in their current setup is Travis, and because he knows Travis doesn’t watch TM, tweet, or participate in social media, he admits he thoroughly enjoyed watching Travis freak out at his freaking out. He says he only knew about 20% of what Matt described at the end of that episode. He was picking things to mug to increase Travis’s surprise. I love this so much.

Taliesin provided the table left leg shake; Travis provided table right. Ha!

Beau is really accepting her role in the Cobalt Soul. It’s good when “as a person, you feel like you can settle into your calling. Sometimes you can do more from the inside than fighting from the outside.” It’s a mirrored but opposite path of Keyleth from C1; Beau felt like she was too good for her duty, while Keyleth thought she wasn’t good enough.

Caduceus is not a big believer in jumping to conclusions. He does have an idea/notion of the “city of the undead” and thinks all this necrotic energy must come from somewhere, and wonders if this is the “capital of anti-death.” He’s willing to believe whatever he sees. This is one of the few things that trigger a bit of loathing and disgust in him. It was terrifying that the Wildmother didn’t know anything.

Beau is pretty confident in her Charlie Day impression laying-out-the-research last episode. She enjoyed taking the things that were known & extrapolating around them; this is a huge facet of Marisha’s own personality and she really enjoys it, so she built a character this time that would allow that kind of puzzle-solving. It’s also why she repeatedly notes when Beau journals, so she can avoid metagaming. Trent’s mention of Vess Durogna’s tomb raiding was completely circumstantial, and the only reason she’d made the connection to the Tombtakers was because she’d recently reviewed those notes for a separate unannounced project. Sometimes she tries to make connections and Matt is like, “It was...just descriptive. Just flavor. The curtains were red...” and she has to discard a paragraph of notes. She feels like it’s still something they have to do because of “look at what he does! Look! It’s totally valid!”

Cosplay of the Week: @kitsunstudios with a gorgeous Caduceus with a very intricate silk vest.

Caduceus’s takedown of Trent! One of my favorite moments in the entirety of C2. Taliesin felt Trent was an asshole; Caduceus felt sorry for him because of how dumb he thought he was. Caduceus’s response was "this is the dumbest man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s so dumb! Is nobody going to tell this guy how dumb he is? Oh, they’re all freaked out. Somebody needs to tell this guy he’s an idiot before somebody gets hurt.” (Marisha: “Before?”) Tal says it was the product of several years of therapy and many drunk conversations with Whitney Moore. It was from a genuine place of concern from Caduceus. “How are you allowed to have this much power and be that dumb?”

Brian loved how funny it was to watch everyone tiptoe around Trent and then Caduceus bulldoze through the end of the meal.

Taliesin: “Damage doesn’t make you interesting or better. It’s not what makes you good. Character isn’t found in damage. Just recovery.”

Brian & Marisha commiserate going through the stage where believing surviving something automatically made you a stronger person, better for the pain; instead it just meant you had to pick up the pieces after. Marisha talks about how strength through survival may be true for some people, but it shouldn’t be considered a necessity. Taliesin talks about how he used to think he had to be miserable to write. Brian talks about how believing he liked reading and writing miserable things only limited him for years.

Marisha feels it’s a C2 theme that almost all the PCs have someone trying to handwave or take credit for their accomplishments or explain their pain as being for their own good (Trent, Beau’s dad, Obann). She thinks it’s interesting to see all the various ways people try to take credit for your work/delegitimize you as a person. She loves that RPGs allow you to explore these odd moralities in interesting ways. The only way to fight it is to have a sense of your own self-worth, which is a problem a lot of the M9 started with.

Caduceus likes everyone, and really likes people who appear to need role models (Eodwulf). “With the right friends and the right bar and the right attitude, I think he’d be okay. Come over here where it’s so much better. That seems like an exhausting friendship that you have there.”

Marisha loves the mix of personalities in the M9; Veth, Cad, & Jester were all “we kind of like them!” after the dinner, and she immediately made eye contact with Travis and they both shook their heads. She knows Beau has to go along with it for Caleb’s sake for now, but she & Fjord are pretty sus of Trent’s proteges.

Beau is less concerned about Artagan’s relationship to Jester because “he showed his ass--she’s less worried about Jester now because a little of the magic is gone.” It’s a little like becoming an adult and realizing your parents are also just adults & human. Caduceus wasn’t suspicious of the Traveler for a long time until they got to the island. Aside: Taliesin loves the pantheon in D&D. “The notion of attempting to apply common Western conceptions of religion to a world where you have a pantheon of interventionist gods as baseline makes no sense to me. Everyone admits that every other god is there and doing shit; it has more in common with ancient Rome than anything else.” Now that he knows it was a con, he feels the wind had been taken out of it. He does have a sense that Jester’s gotten back together with an ex: “I hope that I’m really happy for you.” They’re both interested to see how Jester navigates the new relationship.

My internet goes out, of course. I panic for a second, thinking I’ve lost everything above, but all is well! Thanks, Form History Control addon!

Marisha loved punching Artagan, but regretting rolling so poorly. “I miss violence.” Dani lets us know it’s been about four episodes since the last battle.

There’s no way the Cobalt Reserve doesn’t have a single document on the Eyes of Nine. Beau believes “there are no real secrets” because people are just bad at not writing things down. For there to be no information at all seems really suspicious for her.

Fanart of the Week: @oddalchemist on twitter with some awesome Beau conspiracy red-thread boards overlaid a distant shadowy Molly walking away.

Caduceus feels a little guilty for really enjoying his time right now with the M9 and not wanting to go home. He’s starting to suspect that he’s going to go home very different than when he left. “He has the softest problems. I don’t know if I want to move back in with Mom & Dad.”

Beau is trying to get comfortable with the idea of being happy. Jester is probably Beau’s first real best friend & one of the first healthy female friendships she’s ever had. As long as she still has Jester in her life, she doesn’t care. For Yasha... “At the end of the day, Beau is a lonely person and has always been a lonely person. And I think you kinda reach this point where once you’re not lonely anymore, you can kind of come out of the fog and realize that was horrible! And terrifying! And is even more terrifying now that I know what I could have, and I don’t want to go back to that. At the end of the day Beau doesn’t want to be lonely anymore. There’s always been that flirtation with Yasha, but everyone had to figure their own shit out. And now it feels like it’s coming out a little bit of that haze, maybe this actually could be...” There are a lot of ways they complement each other & are good-different from each other. Marisha believes people can be attracted to more than person at once.

Caduceus doesn’t think nature turned against him on Rumblecusp, it was just a reality of nature being dangerous and violent. “He has a complex relationship with nature.” He doesn’t expect special treatment.

Thoughts on the mansion: “Man, it’s nice to be seen.” Marisha: “I don’t know how I ended up becoming the Scanlan of this campaign, but I’m living for it.” It felt like an echo of “I’m better for having known you.” They compare Marisha taking specific notes on the campaign to Liam taking specific notes on people’s favorite tapestries, comics, etc.

They talk about missing theme parks and daydream a park version of the mansion in CritRoleLand. It’s lovely.

Taliesin never expected Divine Intervention to work; he just wanted to roll some dice. He’s still processing what he saw/heard. They all agree it was very useful in the Vokodo fight.

Vilya! Marisha: “Ah! Ah! Ah!” As a player, Marisha was so deep in Beau’s eyes she didn’t pick up it was Vilya at first (especially since Matt really emphasized they should not be looking for C1 NPCs). Marisha’s brain melted. She bawled her eyes out on the ride home after that episode. Right after it ended, Laura told Marisha “Keyleth finally gets her happy ending,” and it makes Marisha emotional again since Keyleth’s story ended so bittersweetly. She talks about the very real feelings of “just wanting them to be happy, though!” She went back and listened to all her old Keyleth playlists. Everyone was teary after the episode. “Everyone has these 100% real memories of being these characters and having these good times.”

And that’s that for that! Thanks for your patience, all, and is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

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randomfandomimagine · 4 years ago

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Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 1: Reunited

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: It’s finally here, I’m so freaking excited!! I have so many ideas for this series and I love them all, it’s going to be really fun writing interactions between Barry and Steph and with the Justice League too! Not to mention how many things are going on with the plot and the villains and the heroes!

I hope you like this series, or at least the first chapter, I’m quite satisfied with it so far. If you could reblog it and/or leave feedback, it would really mean the world to me!

The sun shines bright, at the highest point in the sky. The air is mildly warm. Summer is near. The park is completely empty at that time, too early still after school has just ended. Soon the place will be filled with loud children running, shouting and playing. She hopes he will arrive before them.

Stephanie absently-minded kicks her feet up, moving in the swing and wondering where he could be. His swing next to her is empty. It gently sways with the breeze.

“Tephie!” Soon enough, a little boy comes running her direction. He trips and stumbles as her approaches her.

“Barry” She mutters, forcing the swing to a halt when she notices he’s crying. “What happened?”

“They hit me again” It is then that she notices the red bruise on his cheek. “I ran”

“Are you okay?” The little girl jumps off the swing, meeting him halfway as he finally reaches her.

“Yeah... I’m okay...” He grits his teeth, averting his teary eyes from her.

Stephanie frowns at first, never before having seen him angry except for on occasions like that. Because of the bullies. In any case, she doesn’t understand why the other kids pick on Barry so much.

She then takes his hand, smiling at him, and starts running. He was just starting to recover from his own dash, but he gladly follows after her even as he huffs again.

“Where are we going?”

Stephanie doesn’t reply. She only giggles, squeezing his hand as they run through the park. They reach a small hill, patiently climbing their way to the top. They look at each other, never letting go of their hands or stopping to catch their breath. Now they’re both smiling.

Once they’re at the top of the green hill, Stephanie finally stops. Barry stands by her side, watching in confusion and curiosity. The little girl watches the clouds for a moment, craning her neck up and squinting her eyes at the bright sun.

After taking a deep breath, Stephanie lets out a very loud high-pitched shriek. Startled, Barry jumps in place. When she looks at him, that smile is still adorning her features.

“Try it!” She encourages him between giggles. “You’ll feel better”

Barry gawks at her, but Stephanie tugs at his hand. Giving in, he takes a deep breath. When he starts screaming at the top of his lungs, the little girl dissolves into giggles. He stops for a moment, glancing at her in surprise.

“I do feel better”

“Then keep doing it!”

The two of them join together in a thunderous harmony of shrieking voices. Their frustrated and boisterous screaming evolves into giggles. Soon after, their laughter has completely taken over. They laugh and laugh until their stomachs hurt. Looking at the other only causes them to laugh harder. But they don’t stop staring at the other.

They don’t stop smiling.

And laughing.

The alarm clocks startles her awake. Stephanie opens her eyes, meeting with the direct sight of her plain white ceiling. She groans, feebly sitting up and passing a hand through her messy brown hair. Her eyes are instinctively directed to the framed photograph on her beside table. The boy of her dream is looking at her through time, immortalized in that image. She smiles to herself. Barry Allen, the one and only. The little girl next to him, a younger version of Stephanie, is smiling wide. His arm is on her shoulders and neither of them could be happier.

Shaking her head, Stephanie gets to her feet. She calmly walks to the bathroom to get ready for work. Even as she combs her hair, as she brushes her teeth and gets changed from her pijamas to her street clothes, her thoughts wander.

That boy keeps running through her mind like he does every morning. Every day. He brings a dull ache to Stephanie’s chest. The sting of nostalgia. The big what ifs that make her head fuzzy. The yearning for regaining what she once had.

Like every morning, Stephanie forces those thoughts away the moment she leaves her apartment. She just takes a deep breath and ventures into the streets of Central City. She has a life of her own now. Without him. As much as she misses Barry Allen, she hasn’t talked to her childhood best friend in years. It’s best to forget about him. She probably won’t see him again.

Or at least... that’s what she thinks.

The Batcave is quiet that morning. As Barry absently walks in, he hopes it’s a good thing. Dropping his bag from his shoulder down to the floor, he glances around. Everything is in order. Bruce and Diana are sitting in a small round table, smiling as they chat over coffee. Victor and Arthur share a slightly bigger square table not far from them, playing cards in a mildly aggressive way that seems very much amusing to them both. Clark is intensely typing on his laptop, resting his back against the wall.

“Hey, everyone!” Barry greets them, making a little wave when they turn their heads.

“Barry” Bruce greets him back. “Everything okay?”

“Yup, pretty normal” He shrugs, going to stand between the two tables. “And here?”

“Everything is calm” Diana tells him with a warm smile.

“Really?”

“Yes”

“Just the usual” Clark pipes up, still not looking away from the screen. “Saving some people every now and then”

Barry nods his head in response. He has done that some days himself – moving a person away from a speeding car, helping people stuck in burning buildings, even getting kitties down from trees. Nothing ‘save the world’ worthy, but important nonetheless.

“So…” The boy begins, letting his dark eyes wander around the room. “If everything’s calm, what are we all doing here then?”

“Hanging out” Victor simply replies, brow furrowed in concentration as he stares at the deck in his hand.

“Hanging out, huh?”

“Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?”

“Aw, Arthur… you consider me your friend?”

Arthur glares at Barry, fighting a smile, and shakes his head at him. “I take it back”

“Fine, okay, um…” Barry fidgets in the spot, having lots of nervous energy at the start of the day. “I’m going to get to the store, anyone want something?”

“A sense of purpose” Victor replies sarcastically, causing Arthur to chuckle.

“Yeah, I have like… 3 dollars” Barry says, digging some wrinkled bills from his pocket.

“No, thank you” Diana kindly says, playfully tilting her head at Victor in response to his comment.

“A new member to the team would be great” Arthur smirks too. “Maybe that way it’d be easier to deal with you”

“That’s it, mister” Barry points a finger at him. “I was gonna get donuts for everyone, but you’re not getting any”

Everyone chuckles, including Arthur, and they all continue with what they were doing before Barry came in. Slightly restless still, the boy sighs and picks his bag back up.

“Be right back” And he speeds off, setting the wheels of destiny in motion.

Stephanie takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate in the present. The investigation is leading nowhere, and so that dull and routinely day becomes something even worse: a waste of time. When she moves away from the microscope, Stephanie’s eyes are directed to the corridor outside the room when they detect movement.

Her smile, which had been missing, returns like the sun on a cloudy day when she sees Ben walking towards the lab. He seems to be the only dash of color in her usually gray days.

“Sorry I’m late” Ben says as soon as he walks in, dedicating her a smile that spreads warmth within her. “I had so much to do this morning”

“It’s okay” She takes her glasses off and stands away from the table.

“Any luck with the samples?” He absently asks as he puts his white lab coat on.

“There’s no change” Stephanie sighs in defeat. “The molecules have been exposed to that force field for days now and there is no reaction”

“That’s odd…” Ben frowns and approaches her. “Is the computer still glitching?”

“I haven’t touched it this time” She jokes, even if her tone holds more irritation than playfulness this time. “I don’t think it has an effect on the results in any case”

Her partner quiets for a moment, typing and reading the screen. After he has checked and introduced some commands that will alter that force field, he turns to her.

“Do you think we’re doing something wrong?”

“I don’t know…” She pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling the start of a headache forming in her forehead.

The silence settles for just a second. It falls on them forcefully, heavily.

“Why don’t you go get some coffee?” Ben kindly touches her shoulder. “The fresh air might help”

“You just want me to get you some coffee” Stephanie smiles in spite of herself.

“I didn’t say that” A cautiously playful smiles draws on his lips. “But if you insist…”

“Fine...” Her smiles lingers even as she jokingly rolls her eyes. “The usual?”

“Yes, please” Ben innocently replies, even if he’s observing the experiment.

Stephanie shakes her head to herself, taking her lab coat off and leaving the lab.

The wheels of destiny start spinning faster and faster.

The hubbub fills the establishment. Stephanie taps her foot, trying to distract herself while she waits in line. The queue isn’t moving. The other costumers also scoff, sigh and roll their eyes at whoever keeps them waiting like that.

“I know I’m twenty cents short! But c’mon, it’s just twenty cents!” A loud voice comes from the counter, at the very start of the line. “I’m craving that donut so much! Can’t you like… I don’t know… make an exception or something?”

“I can’t let you take them if you don’t pay, sir” The clerk replies in the most bored voice Stephanie has ever heard. “Give me all the money and you can have your food”

“You don’t understand” The more she hears that voice, the more Stephanie thinks it sounds familiar. It’s not exactly the tone, but the cadence and fidgety hint to it. “I have been, um…. Running... around all day, I need to eat something!”

Why is that voice so familiar? Just as she is leaning to the side to try and get a look at him, Stephanie’s heart skips a beat when she places where she heard that voice before.

It can’t be...

Her heart is now thumping inside her rib cage. The butterflies coyly start to unleash in her stomach, but she tries to keep them at bay. She shouldn’t get her hopes up.

Cutting in line, she quickly moves to the start of the queue to take a look at that person. A tall thin boy with dark hair is leaning against the counter and impatiently drumming his fingers against the glass. He passes a hand through his short hair. That second in which he hasn’t noticed her presence yet feels like an hour before she finally pipes up.

“I can’t believe it” She grins when she sees him, even if she’s shaking with excitement. “Barry? Barry Allen?”

He turns his head in her direction. His dark brown eyes are awfully familiar to her, and that’s how she knows it’s really him. The smile that appears on his lips next, sweet and bright, is the last proof she needs to confirm his identity.

“Stephanie? Is that you?” The boy squints at her, forgetting about the food. “Stephanie Williams?”

“Yes!” She chuckles, bouncing in the spot. “It’s me!”

“Steph!” Without thinking twice, Barry throws himself to hug her. “Oh my gosh!”

A big feeling of warmth envelops her as he presses her against him. Several years have gone by, but it feels like time hasn’t really passed at the same time. Stephanie feels like her ten year old self again as she is squished by one Barry Allen’s bear hugs.

Memories overwhelm her. Hot summer afternoons in the park. Movie marathons that turned into sleepovers. Chilly autumn evenings. She is even reminded of their pirate phase. All those thoughts fill her with a nostalgia that, for the first time in a decade, isn’t filled with melancholy.

“You look great!” Barry exclaims as he breaks away, much too soon for her taste, and takes her by the shoulders. “You have the same face”

“Thank you” She laughs a little, taking it as a compliment. “You have changed a little”

“It’s the jaw, isn’t it?” He jokes, passing a finger through his own face. “Makes me look older”

“I’m so happy to see you, Barry” Stephanie grins, clinging on to him and hoping the moment can last forever.

“Why, what’s wrong?” He fondly squeezes her arm. “Are you having a bad day? Who do I have to kill?”

“Same old Barry...” She laughs, shaking her head in amusement.

“Excuse me” The clerk’s voice reminds them that they aren’t alone in the establishment. “Are you paying or not?”

The both of them pause, bearing similar embarrassed expressions as they glance at the queuing crowd that stare at the pair in annoyance. When they realize they are still tightly holding on to each other, they awkwardly step away.

“Um… I’ll pay for that” Stephanie offers, politely smiling as she picks up her purse.

“Oh, thank you!” Barry effusively replies, clapping his hands together. “You’re my hero”

She laughs a little, endeared by his comment. The clerk finally hands him his donuts and the rest of his order and Barry grabs it with an excited little bounce. Then he turns to Stephanie once more, smiling from ear to ear.

“Look, I gotta run” He mumbles, fondly staring at her. “But it’s been great to see you”

“Oh, uh… yeah…” The girl sheepishly smiles, putting her hair behind her ear. “It’s been great to see you too”

Barry must have noticed the disappointment in her voice, because he frowns as he observes her. Then, after a brief pause, he places his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, since you saved my butt back there… I could uh…” He stutters for a moment, ultimately clearing his throat and blushing under Stephanie’s amused gaze. “We could go out for a coffee sometimes, I’m paying”

“Y-Yeah!” Her face instantly lights up. “That would be great!”

“That way we can catch up!”

“You’re right, it would be lovely!”

Barry looks over his shoulder for a moment, bothered by the people that still crowd around them. Then he gulps and stares at her in expectation. Seeing as Stephanie just stands there, grinning, he insists.

“When are you free?”

“Oh” She chuckles in embarrassment. “Today I’m all booked, but tomorrow after lunch I’m free”

“Great!”

“Great”

“See you here tomorrow at… let’s say… 4pm?”

“That sounds great”

“Cool”

Barry and Stephanie still stand there, staring at each other. It feels as though that invisible string that had been so taut, keeping them apart, now won’t keep them separated any longer. Like they are physically incapable of moving away.

A wave of emotions has taken over them. All those feelings that they had forgotten, that they were once so used to when they were children and saw each other every day. The excitement slowly bubbling in their chest that spreads down to the stomach and groww bigger and bigger, the way they couldn’t stop smiling and their faces end up hurting from the big gesture, the pleasant nervous butterflies in the stomach...

“Well” Barry finally makes the move, resting his hand against Stephanie’s upper arm and lovingly squeezing. “I would love to stay, but I really really gotta go”

“S-Sure, of course” Hiding the pain in her heart, she steps to the side. “I have to go back to work too”

“See you tomorrow!” He waves goodbye and hurries to the door.

Stephanie stays there for several more seconds, watching the spot from which he disappeared. She sighs. Before the sadness can overcome her, however, she tells herself that she will see him tomorrow. After years separated, Stephanie and Barry will finally be together again.

When she returns, everything is the same at the lab. Oddly enough, it feels completely different at the same time. With her chest full and the stomach suffering the remaining of the butterflies, Stephanie walks inside. She puts her lab coat on and approaches Ben.

“I’m back!” Seeing as he is still busy with the computer, she only leaves the small plastic tray in the table beside him. “Here’s your coffee, Ben”

The young man absently turns to her and has to do a double take. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when he takes a better look at her.

“Look at that smile…” He says, putting a hand on his hip.

“What?” Stephanie scoffs, rushing to pick up her coffee to have something to do. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me smile before...”

“I know, but that smile feels different…” A sweet grin slowly makes its way to Ben’s face. “More genuine”

“Maybe…”

“So why the change?”

“I don’t know” She lies, feeling herself blushing.

Ben peers at her for a moment longer, but ultimately gets back to work. Stephanie sighs in relief and absently returns to the experiment herself.

She does know the reason behind that change... Barry Allen. That constant presence in her life even in his absence. That boy she could never forget and that, she is happy to realize now, she doesn’t have to. Stephanie has been reunited with her beloved childhood friend, and the best part of all is she will see him again very soon.

Tag list: - // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!!

#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #ezra miller #justice league #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #justice league imagine #dc imagine #series #justice league series #dc series #barry allen imagine #original character #oc

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smallerinfinities · 5 years ago

Text

Cake

a/n: when tipsy meets twitter, all bets are off

hello! I woke up three days ago like I’d been reborn in my love for this kid, so I wrote this filth 😅 i’ve posted a few times recently about this video but if you haven’t seen it, scroll my blog or search cake lol trust me it’s worth your time.

(masterlist is linked in my description)

warnings: 3.9k of absolute filth

Movie night had ended hours ago, giving way to sleepy rideshares and drunken footsteps into the second bedroom. Brian was passed out and snoring in the giant armchair across from you. The Top Gun drinking game had gone wrong at around the eighth high five and completely derailed at the sixth “Iceman,” which became a salud of sorts in the room. Beer cans, mango White Claws, and the occasional tequila bottle littered the kitchen island.

“Psst, are you awake?” a toe poked your side from above. Shawn looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow from under his crooked elbow. You’d taken residence behind his legs, resting your head on his hip to watch the movie, bowing out of getting totally trashed. Your lips were still tingly enough to be dangerous.

“Yeah,” you croaked, clearing your throat and stretching, “I’m awake.”

“Are you suuure?” he slurred, tired and tipsy. The smirk was audible, “I thought I felt you drooling through my sweatpants.” His breath came out in a whoosh when you punched him in the abs with your outstretched arm.

“How’s that for awake, fucker?!” He chuckled and caught at your hand, unfisting your fingers and playing with them as he pulled out his phone. You let him. You even opened your hand fully so he could trace little patterns on your palm.

It had been like this for a few months, the flirting, the touching. A drunken night of 20-somethings playing spin the bottle had ended with multiple people clearing their throats with wide eyes as Shawn kissed you.

My God, he had kissed you. Fingers splayed against your neck, his lips gently interlocked with yours. It started out chaste, just two mouths touching, but as soon as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, it was game over. The people, the voices, your friends, all melted away and it was just the two of you. His top lip between yours. Gentle sucking pressure. His body heat radiating onto your skin. It was everything you never knew you wanted. Until Connor clapped Shawn on the shoulder and ripped him away, turning the two of you into human embarrassed laughing emojis.

Since then, it had been like this. His hand on your lower back at the coffee shop, lazy naps together after midday movies, play fighting and fake indignation after one too many shots at the bar. Your friends all shared sideways looks and snide smirks every time you hung out but you hadn’t crossed any lines again and you definitely hadn’t talked about it. Whatever it was didn’t need conversation. It was fun. It was nothing. He was busy. He was a globally-famous popstar. You were normal. The last thing you wanted was one of those embarrassing tabloid articles, “15 Things You Need to Know About Shawn Mendes’s New Fling.” So, in the quiet moments, you let him trace patterns on your palm and send shivers down to your toes.

“Hey, come up here, I’m scrolling Twitter,” he swept his fingers down to your wrist and gave it a tug, a little giddiness in his tone. He made space for you in front of him on the couch, giving you his bicep as a pillow. You settled back against his hard chest and let your legs weave into his. He’s so goddamn warm. It was a mistake wearing jean shorts to his condo. There was a part of you that wondered if he turned the A/C down on purpose but you didn’t want to think about why.

Scrolling Twitter, where Shawn saw the most fan activity, was one of your favorite pastimes. Seeing the reactions to this dude you knew in real life was occasionally shocking, sometimes horrifying, but always amusing. He held the phone out in front of you and thumbed through his feed.

Most of his mentions were about missing him. He’d been on a break since the end of his last tour, taking some time to himself without a schedule for every minute of every day. For a guy who had been taking photos with fans pretty much everyday for the last seven years, you understood why they might be freaking out. He’d broken the pattern. Thank God for that.

You tried to keep your eyes from crossing at the repeated “I miss Shawn @shawnmendes” tweets and the feeling of his alcohol-warmed fingers against your hip. I shouldn’t want this.

“Wait!” you snapped a finger at his phone, “what was that?”

“Oh, that?” he scrolled back, “it’s just an old video.” His voice broke a couple octaves on the last bit. The tweet was accompanied by the wide-eyed blushing emoji. Curious. You raised an eyebrow and watched. He was eating a guitar-shaped cake...with his hands. Mouth wide open, his face buried over and over in thick pieces of chocolate cake with some kind of blue frosting on it. It was fucking filthy. You rubbed your thighs together absent-mindedly.

“What do the comments say?” You poked at his phone before he could move it away.

“Oh, nothing really,” his voice was still high, which meant he knew what the comments likely said. You huffed and grabbed at the phone. “Shawn, you know I have Twitter, I’ll see it whether you like it or not!” You rammed your hips backward, pausing for a second when you felt something you weren’t expecting, but not for too long. He sucked in a breath, coughing, and dropped his phone—right into your waiting hands.

“Hahaha!” You jumped up and ran to the other side of the big white couch, kicking your legs in victory, “I win!” He tripped over his own oversized limbs before he got to you, falling to the floor within reach of your feet. He reached out and pulled your legs toward him, framing his face between your thighs. Your giggles stopped short and your face flamed.

“Can you assholes get a room?!” Brian was awake and fussing at the thin fleece blanket he’d scrounged off the back of the couch. He rolled over mumbling something that sounded like just fucking fuck already but you were too busy thinking about Shawn’s head still between your legs to be bothered by it.

Shawn slowly lifted his finger to his lips in the universal sign to be quiet and untangled himself to stand. He reached out a hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it, leading you to his bedroom down the hall. You held his phone in a death grip, unwilling to let go in case he caught you off guard.

The room was dark, save for his phone, the rectangle reflecting a solid white off the wall of glass facing the city. The CN Tower lights flickered in the late night sky, seemingly suspended in midair. His unmade bed was the biggest and brightest thing in the room. A white comforter hung half on the floor at an odd angle off the corner of the mattress, his white sheets completely exposed. The pillows were all scrunched up at the headboard, like he’d been kicking and pushing all night long. Like he hadn’t slept soundly in weeks.

“Okay, so what you’re about to read…” he shut the door behind him, scrubbing at the back of his neck, “it’s gonna be weird, but like it’s fine I’m used to it. They’re...a little invasive.” Weird? Invasive? Curiouser and curiouser…

You walked over to his bed, picking up the comforter and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed, and sat on the edge staring at the video and letting it play a few more times. Then you swiped down.

@canadianmendussy: ALEXA PLAY BIRTHDAY CAKE BY RIHANNAAAAA

@perfectlyru1n: oh my goD does he really go down like thAT?!

“Oh...my God,” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, “you’ve seen this before?”

He bounced on the mattress facedown, mumbling something into the sheets.

“What was that?” you asked, with Southern sweet tea levels of sugar. You ruffled his hair, brushing through his curls. He turned his head, his face flushed with more than just alcohol.

“I said yes, I’ve seen it before…” he opened one eye and looked up at you, “I usually just ignore them.”

There were over 400 replies on this tweet, some people chiding the horny stans for posting something Shawn can see, others just piling on.

@illuminateruin: is that cake gluten-free?

@kidinlover: @illuminateruin idk but I know pussy is

@particularbenito: CAN HE EAT PUSSY LIKE THAT?!?!?!

“Can he eat pussy like that...” you read out loud under your breath, your mind conjuring up that image of his face between your thighs. Shawn’s head shot up, eyes wide.

“What???” His face was practically magenta at this point, “is that a serious question??”

“What? Uhh, no. Not serious. A reply actually,” you rushed, giving him a sideways look. I mean...maybe it was a serious question? The curiosity was going to kill you. Oh, no. No, no, no. Your lips tingled.

“Well, I mean….can you?” You could hear the glint in your eye.

Fuck it all.

“Can I….w-what?” he stuttered, the air crackling between the two of you. He looked like a cornered animal, like the wrong move would get him killed.

“Can you,” you pushed a loose curl out of his face and nodded toward his phone, “eat pussy like that?”

Oh, God, did I just…?

“I’ve never gotten any complaints,” your head popped up at his self-satisfied tone. Gone was the red-faced shy boy talking about embarrassing fans. The Shawn in front of you was...confident. Hungry. His fingers grazed your ankles resting beside him. It didn’t escape your notice. You shivered.

It wasn’t cold.

“M-maybe they were just too afraid to tell a big, famous rockstar that he sucked,” you were the one stuttering now, face heating by the second.

“Oh, sucking was definitely part of it,” his fingers traced the indent in your calf. You refused to pull away even though you should, even though part of you—a small, shrinking part—knew that if this went where it was definitely going, things were going to change. You snuck a finger under his chin to pull his gaze to yours.

“Is that a promise?”

“I don’t know,” he flashed a toothy smile, gravity and sheer force of will pulling his body toward yours, “is that an invitation?”

I’m probably gonna regret this in the morning.

Your lips crashed into his, giving him your answer. His mouth was hot, his breathing heavy. Tongues and teeth and lips wrestled together, refusing to part while he made his way above you, crawling on hands and knees between your legs as you settled against the pillows. He licked up into your mouth just before nibbling on your bottom lip, forcing a moan from deep inside you. This was primal, the need you felt with him. Like once you came together, nothing could break you apart.

His hands moved up your body, scratching gently at your exposed legs and slipping beneath your hoodie. He broke away from your lips to shuck off your top and expose all your delicate skin. His fingers slipped beneath your lace bralette and he played with the tiny clasp between your breasts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath, his thin t-shirt pressing against your skin.

You nodded so quickly you thought your neck might snap. He popped the clasp and spread his calloused hands across your chest. The friction was glorious. Your body chased his fingers involuntarily, bowing up off the high thread count sheets.

“Be still, baby,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing an open mouthed kiss just above your belly button. Your eyes rolled back at the pet name, another moan escaping your lips. Warmth rushed between your legs.

“Shawn,” you gasped, trying to control your breathing so he didn’t know just how fucked you were, “when I gave you an invitation, I didn’t expect you to be late to the party.” You rocked your hips up into his chest pointedly.

“Well, I can't just jump to the entrée, can I?” He fiddled with the button on your denim shorts, loosening it with a little pop. Teasing, he licked at a freckle just above your hip before sucking at it with enough force to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Your hands shot down to his mop of curls, fingers buried in the thick locks. He pulled and nibbled at that spot over and over, all while grazing his fingers just beneath the waistband of your simple cotton cheeky panties.

When he pulled away, an angry red violet half-moon colored the skin. He took one last lick, smiling at your gasp in response.

“I love that sound,” he sat back on his heels between your legs, looking down at your heaving chest.

“I’ll make it again if you take that shirt off,” you reached for him with grabby hands, trying to Harry Potter that shit. He laughed and did the boy thing, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck before tugging it forward off his body.

The gasp came again. Not even on purpose or because you’s promised him, but because he was so stupid gorgeous in the low light of the city you couldn’t help yourself. You’d seen him in hot tubs and at sweaty summer parties and in those fucking Calvin Klein pictures, but none of that compared to having him shirtless between your thighs just a few inches from your outstretched fingers.

His chest was flushed, some combination of adrenaline and alcohol. Little freckles dotted his lightly tanned skin all the way up his torso to the dusting of chest hair that colored his chest. His perfect pink nipples were hard against the cool air of the room, begging for you to touch or kiss or bite. Or all of the above. You reached out to trace his appendix scar where it peaked out of his low-slung sweatpants. His body danced away from you as he caught at your hand.

“Don’t,” he growled, weaving his fingers between yours and pressing his lips onto the back of your palm like a fucking Victorian gentleman. Like he wasn’t staring down at your hardening nipples thinking about how good they would feel pinched warm between his fingers. He tipped forward, bracing himself against the mattress, his mouth just a few centimeters from your skin. Dragging flesh against flesh, he left kisses at random in the valley between your breasts. Moving farther and farther down your body, he paused, sitting up on his heels.

“Are you sure?” He was breathing heavy, looking straight through you, both hands hovering around the edges of your shorts. You were nodding before he even finished his question.

He curled his fingers around all the fabric in his way, denim and cotton both, and dragged the offending pieces of clothing down your legs, lifting them off and tossing them against the wall across the room. You breathed steady, looking at him looking at you. His mouth hung open in speechless wonder.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered, settling back between your thighs, a mirror of his earlier pose on the couch. Another wave of heat rushed straight to your clit, silently screaming for him.

“I know,” you brushed through his curls, giving him a suggestive grin when he looked up at you, “I taste good too.”

That was all the permission he needed. A second later, he buried his face between your legs, nudging your knees over his shoulders. His tongue swirled in circles around your clit finishing in random flicks. He moaned into you, his lips closing around your swollen folds with gently sucking pressure.

“Shit, Shawn!” you shouted, praying to the gods that everyone still in the condo was too drunk and passed out to hear you. The white sheets bunched in your fists, arms spread wide. Your thighs clamped down against his ears.

He continued his licks and flicks, snaking his hands up your legs and gently prying your legs apart. You clenched hard as he pinned your thighs to the mattress, holding you open with his forearms. Filthy sounds echoed off the walls, wet sucking, moaning from both of you. He dipped his chin and circled your entrance with his tongue, lapping at you.

“Christ!” your hands shot into his damp curls. He was working hard down there, flexing and moaning and fighting your spasms. You looked down and saw his hips impatiently rutting into the mattress. It only made you wetter, gushing onto his waiting tongue. He drank everything you gave him.

“He’s not here,” he said in a low and gravelly voice, a little breathless. He pulled back, the bottom half of his face shining in the dark. His fingers toyed with your sensitive, wet lips, watching as you twitched and trembled, so close to the edge. A firm circle around your clit had your back bowing, contorting backward off the bed. A single tear rolled down your temple.

“I’m so close,” you panted, trapping his outstretched hand against your skin.

“Shawn, I need you.”

“Need me?” His fingers paused, “need me where?”

“Oh, God, don’t stop,” you choked out, a sob threatening. Your back arched up off the sheets again to find friction. “I need...I need you inside me.”

At some point between your words and the needy moan that followed, he’d removed his sweatpants and a black pair of Calvins. You heard him rustling his hand inside the bedside table followed by the metallic sound of foil and the sharp scent of latex. Thank fuck he’s prepared.

When he dropped down onto his forearms, hovering an inch from where you needed him, you were dripping onto the sheets, grinding down into the mattress waiting desperately for him. He ran his nose over your collarbone, peppering kisses along your neck. It was slow and deliberate. A fucking tease.

“Shawn,” you pulled his face up to yours, all squished between your hands, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear I will…”

He pressed inside to the hilt in one swift motion, cutting off your threat.

“What are you swearing to do, princess?” he asked, a smirk and a fire in his eyes. The moan that escaped you in response was embarrassingly loud. He stilled and closed his eyes, allowing you to adjust. You took even breaths, relaxing into his hips, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. His cock was perfect. He was perfect.

I am so fucked.

He moved, slowly at first, stroking all the right places. When his hips separated from yours, pulling almost all the way out, he rutted back inside. It was deep, long thrusts touching some place inside you weren’t sure you knew was there. Your head thrashed against the pillows. Your grip on his shoulders turned sharp, clawing long red-raw marks into his pale skin.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he hissed into your ear, “fuck, you’re so tight.” His abs scraped against your body like a washboard, the tension clear in his muscles. He was wound up, ready to shatter. He crashed into you, repeatedly slapping skin against skin. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles in contrast with the punishing rhythm of his hips. He lifted one of your legs over his hip to change the angle, to make you even tighter around him. A bead of salty-sweet sweat dropped from his chest into your mouth.

“Right...there,” you groaned, your eyes rolling back, “I’m gonna come!”

“That’s right, honey,” he grunted, flattening his fingers across your clit with intense pressure, “come for me.”

The room went white. The sound of your hips colliding was replaced with a high-pitched ring. Your world seemed to implode, your muscles moving independently. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held you as he fucked you through the waves, his weight the only thing keeping you from being swept away in the current.

“Stay here with me,” he cooed, sweet but taut in his throat. Your heart slammed against your ribs in rhythm with his hips. He grunted once, twice, three times with his final thrusts and came undone, pumping into the condom. Biting down on your shoulder to stifle his sounds, he sucked hard enough to leave an angry mark. You contracted around him, both inside and out, curling around his thighs and back and neck, letting the full weight of his completely spent body bring you back to full consciousness.

“Hey,” you fingered his frizzed and fucked curls, “Shawn?”

“Hmm?” he nuzzled into your hands and squeezed you a little tighter.

“You’re crushing me,” you exhaled, strained.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry!”

He shifted to his side, accidentally pulling out too quickly, making both of you wince.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry,” he was so cute when he was scrambling. He got up and threw out the used condom, quickly returning from the adjoining bathroom with a damp cloth.

“Come here,” he held his arms out, making a perfect you-sized place in front of him. You slid into it easily and let him press the cloth between your legs, wincing again.

“Did I hurt you?” There was so much concern in his voice.

“No, no, I just…” you held onto his arm, glad to be facing away, “I haven’t been fucked like that in awhile.”

“Glad to be of service.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to see his smug smile. Reaching back, you slapped his thigh in retaliation. He caught your hand and kissed it like a Victorian gentleman again, like it made up for his cockiness. You tried to convince yourself that it didn’t, flushing even harder than your just-fucked body should have allowed. He wrapped his arm around your front and intertwined your legs, snuggling his face into the nape of your neck.

“So, uhhh, are we gonna do this again?” he asked, barely concealing the hope in his voice.

“Shhh,” you said, yawning for effect, “we’ll talk about it in the morning. Just sleep.”

He exhaled against your back, placing one last kiss on the mark you were sure he’d left in the midst of his orgasm. You stared out into the Toronto skyline as his breathing evened, his quiet snores barely audible against the screaming voices in your head. As the light crept into the room, as morning dawned on your sleepless night, you repeated his question over and over again.

Are we gonna do this again?

There was an easy answer: yes. Yes, yes, yes, my God, yes you were going to do this again. But there was another, harder question to answer beneath it. If we do this again, will we ever be able to stop?

***

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @fromthicctosticcc @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @mendesficsxbombay @shawn-youth @kerwritesthings @starlightsivann @lavenderhoneymndes @begginyouformendes @fallinallincurls @shawn-youth @linanilssonfurberg @lostinshawnsmemory @bucky-ish

(as always let me know if you want on/off the tag list...I realize I don’t post regularly and like half of these people could be out of the fandom lol)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing #yeah it took me a little more than an hour but it's HERE and that's all that MATTERS

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Note

dude uh so like dabi but as a father... like he would never but like no one day he gets left with this kid and he's not gonna abandon it bc he cant idk i just want to see dabi as a parental unit trying not to be a bad parent

lol, ppl ask me asks and i respond with a feature freaking film worth of words. (//▽//) warnings: adult language, angst, mild spoilers for current manga chapters: 290 - 291

words: 3915

notes: I answered this a little differently. It’s more of a longing for what could have been, rather than a kid of his own sort of thing. But, Dabi does his best damn it. Also, yeah, yeah, it’s another Greek title. I cannot be STOPPED. but i prolly should be. Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Pónos

ponos /ˈpoʊˌnɒs/ or ponus /ˈpoʊnəs/ noun Ancient Greek: Πόνος Pónos the personification of hardship and toil

There’s a loud clattering noise that’s echoing along the polished floors and walls of the Meta Liberation Army’s base.

Dabi hates these long hallways. They remind him of some kinda tomb, with all that reverberation and all those gleaming surfaces. They’re perfect for elongating and stretching voices and sounds.

So whatever the fuck that racket is, it’s not like he’s going to be able to avoid it. He’d need to turn around to do that and he’s not about to fucking turn heel and retrace his steps. Besides, it would take him twice as long to go the other way. Nah, this path is easier, despite the looming annoyance of the commotion.

He rounds a corner and catches sight of a young woman.

She’s struggling with something as she reaches into her shoulder bag, and her back twists awkwardly as she leans both forward and sideways. Dabi can’t get a good look at her from here. But, he reasons, he also doesn’t care enough to bother with a second, closer, glance. Nope, all he’s gotta do is slip past her and he can be on his way.

“Reo-- Reo! Please keep still. I need to get to my phone…” The woman’s voice sounds strained and that odd pattering noise that he’s been hearing since he stepped toward this hallway hasn’t stopped either. If anything, it’s worse. Is it her quirk? Is there somebody behind her? Does she have one of those remote talking devices? Like that the ones that the Doc gave to the League before all this fucking cult bullshit started. What-

Dabi’s thoughts wander to a screeching halt as a boy bumps into his shins. He blinks at the sensation and stutters to a stop, his eyes glinting at the small form. The kid, who looks about four or five, stumbles backwards and cranes his head, looking up at this new discovery he’s run into.

The boy studies him and, for a brief moment, Dabi worries that his face might spook the kid bad enough to send him into a sobbing and crying fit. Dabi’s not exactly the easiest thing to look at now. But, the kid seems ok with gawping at him, his violet eyes goggled and wondering.

“Reo-” the boy’s mother repeats, replacing her phone and scanning the hallway for her rogue offspring. “I--Uh, there you are! I’m sorry...Oh, you’re one of those new generals. I’m afraid I don’t remember your name. Ooh, oh my gosh, now that you’re here, would you mind watching him for a moment? I’ve gotta run something back to Skeptic…”

That woman is saying something but Dabi’s too involved in his strange standoff with the boy. Neither he, nor the kid, seem to have the wherewithal to pull their gazes away. No, they both just watch each other, the former maintaining his aloof scowl and the latter is putting on an amazing show of raw fascination.

“So, just don’t let him get up to too much trouble and I’ll be right back. Won’t be more than a minute.”

Huh?

Dabi whips his head up, suddenly realizing what’s being asked of him. Like fuck he’s gonna watch this kid. Wait...where did she go?

He twists and turns, his cerulean eyes flashing up and down the sterile hallway, but there’s no sign of her. What the hell? How can someone dematerialize that quickly? He didn’t even say yes, for fucks sake. What a negligent, irresponsible parent she is, to just leave her kid like this with a complete stranger. Pfft, stranger feels a bit weak, honestly. Nah, Dabi’s a walking, talking freakshow. Nothing about him looks safe or dependable. There’s a pull on his dark pants and he automatically shakes his leg against the sensation, agitated. What now?

Ah.

Junior is blinking up at him, those chubby hands wrinkling the rough fabric between his tiny digits. “Hi,” he beams, his pearly baby teeth straight and gleaming, “I’m Reo!”

“Yeah,” Dabi scoffs, knocking the kid’s hands away. “I heard. Where did your, er, mom go?”

“What’s your name?” Reo prattles, following Dabi as he skulks a little ways down the hallway, his brow furrowed and shoulders tense. Now what is he going to do? He could leave, tell the kid to stay put and go about his business. He doesn’t have time for this, after all.

“Hey!” Reo calls and Dabi turns at the slightly frantic note in the child’s voice, his eyes sharp.

“Whadda’ want kid? I’m trying to find your mom.”

“I said my name is Reo-”

“And I said I heard you. Tch, you’re so loud there’s no way half of the building didn’t hear you,” Dabi snaps, looming over the little boy, his mouth pressing into a deep frown.

“I told you my name, so..so now you gotta tell me yours,” Reo scolds, those violet eyes shining. Dabi can see that the kid’s tiny frustration is rising at the thought of some adult being so rude as to not answer his newly engrained social niceties.

“Hmph,” Dabi snorts, a low laugh puffing out of his lips. “The name’s Dabi.”

Reo digests that, his nose wrinkling as he mouths the unfamiliar name to himself, like he’s wanting to get it just right when he speaks it aloud. It’s kinda cute, Dabi muses. You know, in a stupid sort of way.

“D- Dadi?” Reo mimics, stumbling over that all important ‘b’ in Dabi’s name.

“What? No. It’s DABI. It’s got a ‘B’ in it. Like, uh, b as in, uh, bear. You know what a bear is, yeah?”

“A bear?” Reo asks, biting his lip at the strange change of topic. “What about a bear?”

“You got my name wrong, kid. It’s Dabi, not DaDi. My name has a ‘b’ not a ‘d.’ Try again,” Dabi groans, sinking to his haunches and praying that this kids mom will rematerialize any goddamn second.

“Dadi,” Reo mimics, still fumbling.

“Ugh,” Dabi sucks his teeth and begins to stand again.

“Hey! Pick me up?” Reo requests, his arms lifting, stocky fingers clenching and unclenching into his palms, opening and closing in a repetition of a familiar demand.

“Pick you up?” Dabi repeats, incredulous. What the fuck is wrong with today? The only thing that could make this worse is someone seeing this odd performance.

“I’m not gonna pick you up,” Dabi growls, his lips pursing at the kid. “You’re just fine where you are. Besides, don’t kids like you need to practice walking? How old are you anyway?”

“Five,” Reo chirrups, puffing his chest out, like he’s expecting a rainfall of praise to fall on him now that he’s verbally acknowledged that he is indeed, a big boy.

“That’s too bad, kid. If you’re five, you’re definitely old enough to walk under your own power,” Dabi snorts, bemused by Reo’s chipper attitude. Doesn't that get tiring? All that smiling and pacing that he’s doing? Dabi’s never had much experience with little kids, well, other than his own contact with his younger siblings, but they were never this...chatty.

“Awe,” Reo whines, his head falling, little chin bumping as it hits his collarbone dejectedly. Dabi shakes his head at the dramatic reaction. Sulking is better than crying, he reasons, turning his head to look for the boy’s mother again. She said it would only take a minute? The fuck was she?

“Hey, kid. Where were you and your mom before you came here?”

There’s a strange, static-like quiet that follows Dabi’s question. That’s weird. He would have figured that his new query would have broken the boy out in another rash of talkative excitement. So for him to be…

Wait.

Dabi turns back and his eyes scan the newly barren hallway for the boy. The fuck? Where did he go? His gaze is still whisking frantically when he spots the heel of Reo’s shoe disappearing beyond the next corner. Fucking wonderful.

He paces after the boy, his long legs pulling him quickly along. Again, he wonders why he gives two shits. It’s not his kid, not his responsibility. Yet there’s some nagging pressure that keeps beating at the back of his mind. It’s likely some pieces of a fragmented lesson that had been taught to him long ago. Back when he wasn’t like this. Long before he’d made the decision that sent him on this mindless trajectory, lingering in the obsession of his pent up rage and hurt.

You’re the eldest.

Take care of your sister.

Easy, he’s still a baby. That’s right, hold him like that. You’re such a good brother.

You’re the one who he can go to when he needs help.

Thank you, Touya. You did so, so well! I’m sorry I had to leave for a bit, but thank you for watching him.

It’s a big job, and one that you’ll always have, so, can you do it?

You’re their big brother. They look up to you.

Look! She’s happy to see you, Touya!

Dabi snarls at those little flashes of memory, his teeth gritting. No one needs him. Fuck, he’d be more likely to kill them than help them now. Or, at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. Drilling it in, over and over, until he can repeat that vitriol like it’s some kinda twisted prayer. He’s not that boy anymore and he can never, ever go back. He’s made sure of that.

“Hey! Hey kid! Get back here! You little shit!”

A loud, male voice is booming up ahead and Dabi jogs the last few steps, his head already uplifted and searching as he rounds the corner. There’s a tall, unfamiliar man in the next hallway and he’s looking away, watching as Reo sprints from him.

“Fuck, man. Why you gotta yell at him?” Dabi scolds, his cerulean eyes glaring. The man whirls around and Dabi notes the source of his ire. There’s a large stain, bleeding against his crisp white button up and an upturned mug is clutched in a tight fist. Kid must have bumped into him and knocked his coffee out. Well, that fucking sucks, but it’s no reason to freak out at the little guy. He’s five for fuck’s sake. Not like he did it on purpose.

“He burned me! He ran around that corner and smack into me! Control your kid, you ass! I know you’re one of those hoity toity new generals but you gotta--”

“He’s not my kid,” Dabi snaps, already shoving past the blustering idiot. If he hurries, he can snatch the boy up before he gets too much farther.

“You sure are running after him like he is!”

The taunt chases him as Dabi stalks away and it makes him grind his teeth again. Doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter, he repeats, all he’s gotta do is get the kid and wait for the mom. Besides, he’s in too deep now. He can’t just abandon him. Fuck, with his luck, he’d run into the mom before he ran into Reo again.

The next hallway leads to one of the many common rooms.

Dabi, realizing this, begins to jog again, suddenly desperate to catch Reo before he wanders into even more members of this crazy cult. Or worse, he gulps, a member of the League. He’d never live it down if the kid bumped into Compress or Shigaraki. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

As he skids along the next turn, Dabi catches sight of the kid. He’s wavering beside the double doors of the common room and he looks distinctly lost, his dark head turning every few seconds, those violet eyes of his wide.

“Oi! Reo! Stop running,” Dabi calls, already lowering himself to a kneeling position, his long, mangled arms outstretched. He’s hoping he’s painting some kinda welcoming picture with this gesture and not just creating a terrifying pantomime of comfort.

Reo looks back and he lets out a little squeal of recognition and delight. Excited he is finally going to be picked up. His shoes tap loudly against the tiles as he dashes into Dabi’s oddly warm embrace.

Once he’s got a good grip on the boy, Dabi rises to his feet, keeping the kid’s body securely against his. At first, Reo protests the tight hold, his back bowing and squirming, but Dabi stills him with a long, hard, stare.

“Don’t do that,” Dabi chastises, wincing against the pull on his marred skin.

“Oh! Does it hurt?” Reo asks, carefully bringing his swinging feet to a standstill, noting the grimace of pain on Dabi’s scarred face.

“Yeah,” Dabi confirms, shifting Reo to his hip so he can free up his other arm to adjust a pinching staple. “My skin ain’t exactly healthy. Now, let’s get you back to your mom before she finds out that you fuc-- I mean...that you dashed off like that. Give people a heads up next time, huh? Making me run all over the compound after--”

“Oh! Who’s that you’re holding?”

“Gosh, he looks just like you! With that dark hair and those bright eyes of his. Is that your son?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Dabi tosses a glare over his shoulder, but the two women keep walking toward him, cooing at Reo’s pleased little face. One of them reaches up and ruffles the boy's hair and Dabi instinctively takes a step back, a snarl lifting his lips over his white teeth.

“He’s not my kid,” Dabi corrects, for what feels like the umpteenth time today. It’s only the second, but twice is two times too many.

These women are being ridiculous. They don’t look that much alike. He’s just got dark hair, that’s all. If they knew what color Dabi’s hair really was they wouldn’t even make that connection. With his true coloring, Reo would be another kid and Dabi would be some fucking freak who’s left holding him. He’s not this kid's anything, least of all his protector.

It’s not his job to look after this half pint, nor is it his job to care about him. Even if he reminds him of some sliver of what was, what could have been. No, Dabi is just some schmuck who somehow stumbled into this absurdity. It would be easy to unwind those trusting arms and lower this kid back to the ground, he’s not sure why he’s still holding him. He should...he should put him down...He...

For some reason, that last thought makes his heart squeeze, pressing an irregular beat against his breast. He shakes his head at the sensation, burying whatever bubble of emotion that is trying to rise back down, pressing it deep, smothering and covering until he feels normal again.

“He’s right! I’m not. Because he’s Dadi!” Reo confirms, simultaneously standing up for his new, haphazard, caretaker and throwing him under an oncoming proverbial bus in the same breath. Goddamn it all.

“That’s so sweet! Your son is beyond adorable!”

“He’s not…” Dabi begins, but bites his tongue. What good is it doing him anyway? These flunkies of the Meta Liberation are just fawning over Reo anyway. He’s honestly stunned they’re still talking to him at all.

As they’re tickling and petting at the boy, a sudden thought springs into his mind. Actually, this might not be too bad. If he can get one of them to take the kid, he can fucking slink away, his responsibility finished, job done.

“Oi, one of you can take him. He’s waiting for his mom. She said something about meeting with that Skeptic dic-- guy.”

“You want us to watch your son?” One of the girl’s questions, her head tilting at his demand. “Wouldn’t you rather wait for her yourself? You don’t know us and, well, not that we’d do anything bad...but that feels strange. Besides, you’re doing a great job! Look how happy he is. The two of you are so cute!”

Amazing.

Apparently, Dabi, despite his hardened and rough persona, one that he has cultivated and built up for years, mind you, could now add, “cute,” to that resume of terror that he is building.

Sighing, Dabi tries a more direct approach. “You seem to like him a lot, so just keep an eye on him until his mom comes back. It’s not hard. He likes being held, so just, er, hold him.”

Reo, sensing that he’s about to be deposited out of Dabi’s warm grasp, begins to wiggle again, his hands clinging to Dabi’s skin. He’s trying to be gentle, remembering Dabi’s earlier warning, his small digits tapping rather than digging, but he’s still scrabbling against the pull.

The woman clicks her tongue and smiles, tucking some of her long hair behind her ear. “Your son is so precious! He must really love you. Look, Han, isn’t this kid is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen!” Her friend chuckles and agrees and the cheerful sound makes Dabi seethe.

“Like I told you, he ain’t my kid. Now knock the wax outta your ears and take him,” Dabi snarls, still pushing Reo outward, hoping beyond hope that this calamity will just fucking end.

“Dadi,” Reo pouts, his nose wrinkling as he burrows his face into Dabi’s arm, his skin hot against Dabi’s purple flesh.

“If he’s not your kid,” the woman named Han says, propping a fist on her hip, “why does he keep calling you daddy?”

“He’s not calling me that,” Dabi grumbles, his eyes lingering on Reo’s distressed slump. “The kid can’t say my name, which is Dabi. For some fucking reason the “b” is alluding him.”

“Fucking?” Reo questions, his brilliant purple eyes lifting, searching Dabi’s deep blue gaze. When he doesn’t get an answer, he repeats the word, lingering on those harsh syllables a little longer than he needs to. God, Dabi thinks, pulling Reo back to him, trying to muffle the boys bewildered tests of his new word. This is beyond ridiculous.

“Uh-oh,” another, male, voice resounds. Dabi scowls at the newcomer, watching as he steps beside the women, his eyes widened in mock concern. “That your kiddo?” He asks, his brow arching at Dabi’s now openly hostile form.

“Fuc-- Again? I gotta answer this again?” Dabi snaps, shifting Reo back to his hip, just above his belt. “No. No, he is not mine.”

“Sure about that?” the man quizzes. “He’s sure got your hair and, uh, your vulgarity down.”

“He’s that woman’s...Look, his mother went to go see that Skeptic bastard. So, you wanna help me out here? Any of you idiots want to do something useful? Hmm? Go into that big meeting room, the one past the common area and get her. I bet that’s where she went. When you see her...tell her, her kid is going wild. Stop...stop looking at me like that or I’ll torch you where you fuc-- where you stand.”

Instead of being cowed by his threat, the Meta Liberation Assholes just laugh, the three of them leaning against each other as they heave with their amusement. And Reo? Well, he’s seemingly amused by all the ruckus, giggling and murmuring little nothings into Dabi’s skin, nuzzling into Dabi’s inhuman warmth. Dabi feels that strange tugging at his heart again and in his anger and distant horror, he spews more rage onto the trash that’s daring to chortle so openly in front of him.

“Goddamn it, I’ll make each of you pay for this you...you stupid--”

“Dabi?”

Can a hole open up under him? That would be absolutely perfect and he’d be so, so grateful. He cranes his neck and catches sight of the last person he wanted to see. Fucking, Twice. His costume is making those white eyes of his comically wide and his hands lift to clap at his face, always dramatic and overblown to the last.

“Who is that sweet little boy? The hell are you doing with that child?!?”

“He’s--”

“It’s his son!” The ‘Han’ woman calls, still clutching her sides, her eyes wet from her mirth.

“No,” Dabi groans, his head dropping lamely. He wants nothing more than to fry each and everyone of these fucking pieces of shit. The desire is so strong he can feel the creeping of heat that’s rising in his palms and tickling up his piercings, scalding his skin against the metal. No, he scolds himself, he can’t do that. Not with Reo in his arms. He’s gotta be careful. He can’t hurt the kid. It’s not his fucking fault he’s been trapped in the care of a monster like him.

Dabi gasps at his sudden, protective instincts. The fuck? This kid is nothing to him. Nothing. He doesn’t remind him of anyone. No, he’s nothing like his little brothers, all questions and sweet, brief hugs. He’s not...he’s not…

Reo’s hum of agitation breaks Dabi from his swirling emotions. The boy tries to lift his legs away from Dabi’s hips, his arms wrapping around Dabi’s neck, suddenly unsure and starting to whimper.

“It’s too hot,” he complains, his voice small and soft in Dabi’s ear.

“I know,” Dabi concedes, taking another deep breath, trying to still that rushing rage that is lingering in the back of his mind. “Sorry kid, it should stop in a minute.”

“Ok,” Reo nods, his black hair mingling with Dabi’s spiky tendrils.

Twice has stepped forward and he’s standing beside Dabi, his head cocked, looking from the shivering boy to Dabi’s haggard expression. “He does look a lot like you,” Twice ponders, his fingers tracing his chin meditatively. There’s something about Twice that Reo is bothered by and his face falls into the hollow of Dabi’s neck and shoulder, straining his body against Dabi, away from the black and red suited man that’s beside Dabi’s elbow.

“Fuc-- Piss off, Twice,” Dabi growls, his blue eyes narrowing and hardening as he pats comfortingly at Reo’s back, twisting from Twice’s curious stare. “You’re freaking the kid out. Hey! Hey, don’t you assholes have some bootlicking to do?” Dabi snaps, his eyes lifting to the gaggle of MLA members, who are still giggling and whispering across from him. And, just as those words leave his lips, Reo’s mother, finally, finally returns.

“Oh thank you!” She coos, raising her arms to Reo and peeling him away from Dabi. To Dabi’s shock, Reo still shakes his head, his arms retightening around Dabi’s tense neck.

“Oooh, he’s taken a liking to you I see!”

“You gotta let me go, kid,” Dabi whispers into Reo’s ear, unlacing his little arms. Reo whines and pouts as Dabi presses him back to his mother, a sigh of relief shuddering from his mismatched lips. Thank fucking God. Now he can have this woman tell all of those shits that he’s not this boy’s father...wait...what the fuck? Oh...oh, now they all leave.

The MLA lackeys are drifting away, walking in a tight bunch as they re-enter the common area, soft grins still lingering on Dabi. And Twice? Twice is snickering openly and making his way down an adjacent hallway, no doubt off to tell Toga what he’s seen.

“Thanks again. Looks like you did a great job,” Reo’s mother repeats, shifting her son to a better position, trying to quiet his frantic scrabbling, his small arms still reaching, struggling for Dabi.

“Dadi!” Reo cries, a few tears falling from his soft face as he’s walked away. In another heartbeat, they’re both gone and all Dabi has left of that strange little kid is the lingering sting and warmth of his embrace on his burned skin.

Notes: Dabi is a grump. Or is he? o(TヘTo)

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on dabi and his bad attitude #dabi #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #bnha angst

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