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justkending · 4 years ago

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The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

Chapter Eighteen:

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer.

He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up.

“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”

“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed.

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat.

“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk.

“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”

“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner.

“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”

“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”

“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously.

“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”

“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him.

“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, I-”

“You owe me,” he cut her off.

She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food.

“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him.

“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”

“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room.

________

Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.

“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands.

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”

“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”

“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”

“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.

“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”

“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper.

“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.

“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”

“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?”

She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end.

“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off.

“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around.

“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted.

“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”

The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started.

“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N.

“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest.

“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it.

“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”

Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”

“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”

“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?”

“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!”

“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously.

There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…

“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”

“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock.

Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone.

“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone.

Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that.

She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans.

She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life.

She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up.

_________________

Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend.

“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...”

Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now…

Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment!

He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…

God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.

_______________

“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.

“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile.

“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized.

“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved.

“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off.

“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”

“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?”

“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch.

“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”

Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch.

“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door.

These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.

“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk.

“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.”

“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly.

“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle.

It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either.

“So…”

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end.

“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”

Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him.

“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”

“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”

“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something.

“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”

“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled.

“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”

“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious.

“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”

“Steve-”

“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”

“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”

“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk.

Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”

“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch.

“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second.

“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly.

“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him.

The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere.

“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded.

“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back.

“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”

“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk.

“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side.

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel.

“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.

Bucky froze.

Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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#bucky barnes au series #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader au #bucky barnes x reader au series #bucky barnes x y/n rogers #bucky barnes x y/n rogers au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #justkending #justkending series #justkending marvel #marvel #marvel au #marvel au fanfic

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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

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i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it.

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world.

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years.

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier.

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps.

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong.

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence.

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open.

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance.

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought.

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet.

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.”

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother.

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up.

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard.

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away.

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food.

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words.

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake.

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind.

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories.

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen.

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness.

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#this is kinda shit but i've been toying with this idea for a while #it's done now and my brain can move on #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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bosspigeon · 3 years ago

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not if it's you

Prompt: Day One: Cooking, Day Two: Cuddling💕 Pairing: Mason/Male Detective Words: 3293 Summary: Mason is sick. Mason's not supposed to get sick, but magic tends to not give a shit if you're a big, tough vampire man with a reputation to maintain. A prompt fill for @wayhavensummer that I wasn't sure I'd finish, but I'm glad I decided to. I combined two prompts into one, along with the inclusion of the bonus challenge, "love languages!" Juni's love language is Acts of Service~ CW for emetophobia. Nothing actually happens, but it is discussed!

“I’m not a vampire, Mason,” Juni said to him when he clicked on the lamp on his dresser and Mason growled loudly in protest. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see in the dark.”

Mason's growl became a long, low groaning noise as he dragged a pillow over his face. It helped more than he cared to admit, being immediately plunged into soothing darkness and smothered in the warm, sweet scent of the detective buried in his pillow.

Still, he feels like absolute shit.

The illness should run its course in just a few days, from what Juni’s relayed to him about Nate’s research—since he won’t leave Juni’s apartment (he’s not going to say can’t, because that implies weakness, implies that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he could, he just won’t, and that’s all there is to it) until he’s well, and refuses to go crawling to the Agency when he just needs to wait things out.

If he went to the Agency, he’d just be “waiting things out” the same as he is there, only he’d be doing it alone in a stiflingly empty observation room, bored out of his fucking skull until someone decided to come poke at him for science. At least here, he’s got Juni fussing over him.

It’s sort of… nice, being fussed over.

And Juni would be fussing whether Mason was here or not. He’d probably be driving himself crazy with worry, making himself sick with it, if Mason were stuck at headquarters without him, and the thought of that makes Mason feel even worse than he already does. It’s really best for the both of them that the vampire is here, buried in a metric fuckton of blankets (because even if he feels like he’s going to burn alive, the second he leaves them the sweat cools on his skin and leaves him trembling) looking into the blank, beady eyes of a patchwork plush cat.

His entire body aches, throbbing dully from the top down, but he reaches out with a heavy arm and turns it around so it’s not fucking staring at him anymore.

Juni’s been gone for a while, but Mason can hear him over the low ringing in his ears, puttering around in the kitchen. His senses are weakened by the bizarre magical illness Juni’s likened to the flu after hearing the symptoms, but he hears the detective humming quietly to himself, smells some spices and herbs he’s too exhausted to bother identifying over the low thrum of something metallic and familiar.

Mason's stomach growls at the same moment it churns. Hungry, but the very thought of consuming anything, blood included, makes him feel nauseous.

He doesn't know how Juni managed to sweet-talk Adam into handing over Mason's blood rations for the few days it would take this sickness to work its way through his body, but it makes him faintly irked he'll have to disappoint the detective when he tells him he doesn't even think his traitorous stomach can handle it, no matter how hungry he is. Juni always looks so pitiful when he can't help, soft doe eyes and pouty mouth and genuine, heartfelt distress rolling off him in waves. Mason groans into the pillow and comforts himself by drawing another detective-scented breath deep into his lungs.

And then Juni knocks on the doorframe (of his own fucking bedroom, because he's ridiculous, and Mason's chest squeezes) and calls, "Still alive in here?" softly teasing, his voice carefully lowered in deference to Mason's throbbing skull.

He makes a rough noise and tosses aside the pillow, because the only thing better than being buried in Juni-perfumed sheets is taking in the scent of him right from the source.

Juni always looks so different when he's at home. He relaxes, softens, like a bird coming to roost. His shoulders aren't so tense, his eyes stop darting like he's waiting for an attack (something Mason noticed even before Juni was actually under attack every other week) and he just, he looks settled and safe. After the shit he’s been through, he deserves to feel safe.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Mason just awkwardly squirms his way out of the blankets to free his arms enough to reach out.

"C'mere," he grunts.

Juni laughs, and the way his cheeks curve, the way they make his eyes crinkle at the corners, makes Mason hate whatever magic bullshit allowed him to get sick in the first place with a burning fury that feels like it's immolating him from the inside.

Or maybe that's the fever.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Juni teases when Mason growls. It's not as fierce as he hoped it would be, which is more than obvious when Juni only smiles indulgently at him.

He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand over Mason's clammy forehead, making a soft, commiserating cooing noise. Mason wants to be annoyed, wants to growl again, complain about being coddled, but the sound that comes out of him is not a growl, or a curse, but a soft moan. He pushes up into Juni’s hand and closes his eyes.

“You’re still burning up,” Juni sighs, sinking his fingers into the vampire’s hair and scratching at his scalp. He moans again, lower and rougher. A little awkwardly, he adds, “Nate said you should, y’know, drink something.”

Mason’s stomach turns, and he grits his teeth and shakes his head.

“Mason.”

He shakes his head again, turning his face into the pillow again when it starts to make him dizzy. He wants to break something. He feels so pitiful.

“Mason, you’re not gonna get better if you don’t—”

“You ever seen someone puke blood, detective?” he snaps. Juni’s hand retracts sharply, and Mason keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to see the hurt streaking across that soft, expressive face. “It’s not pretty,” he adds gruffly, and it takes all the strength in his flagging body to roll over and turn his back.

Juni’s quiet for a long moment, before soft fingers are sliding into his hair again,rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I had kind of a weird idea that might help, if you think you can stop pouting long enough to hear me out,” he says.

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy, huh?” Mason grumbles, but his body, an aching knot of sweaty tension, starts to slowly loosen up under the gentle petting.

Juni goes quiet again, and then, with a little laugh, he says, “Would it make you feel better if I told you you’re really cute when you’re all whiny?”

“How fucking dare you,” he snarls impotently into the pillow.

Juni laughs, and when Mason rolls over again to glower at him, he snorts trying to stifle it. “Do you want to hear my idea or not?”

“Not exactly in any position to stop you, am I?” Mason scoffs.

The detective pokes his nose. “Nope!” Mason nips at his finger, but his reflexes aren’t exactly great at the moment, and Juni just pulls it back with a smile. “I wanted to ask before I, like, ruined one of your blood rations for a weird experiment, but I’ve been doing research on different recipes that use blood—” “Why?” Mason interjects.

Juni flounders a bit, shoulders drawing up to his ears. “I… Well, I know you don’t like to eat human food, for good reasons, but sometimes I can convince Felix and Adam to try stuff I make, and Nate likes to eat sometimes, and I like… I like cooking for people? And I can’t really do that for you, because I know how overwhelming your senses can be, but you’ve said they’re kind of dull right now, so I thought maybe I could make, well… sort of a blood soup?"

Mason blinks at the detective.

Juni nervously babbles on to fill his befuddled silence. "If I thinned it out with a mild broth, I figured it would go down easier. And I know ginger is really strong on its own, but it also settles the stomach, and with the blood and the broth, it might help? I thought about adding some other things, but I tried to be picky with it, because even if your senses are dulled, I don't want to overwhelm you."

Mason chews it over, and even though he can tell his silence is making Juni nervous with every second that ticks by (fidgety, fussy, open and honest to a goddamned fault, a ball of nerves Mason wants to drag into bed and shield from the world) he can't really think of much to say, except, "Sure. Why the fuck not?"

"That's okay! I figured it was a long shot anyway, and—" Juni freezes, his knee-jerk anxious capitulation cutting off like he’s run into a brick wall. "What?"

"I'm already overwhelmed, sweetheart," Mason groans, and honestly, even talking is getting exhausting, his aching throat protesting every word he can manage to eke out. He wants Juni closer, wants to bury his face in his neck and hide like a wounded animal crawling its way home. "It honestly can't get worse at this point. If you think it'll help, I'll try it."

Juni still looks stunned, but is also clearly jangling with nervous excitement. Nate's used the term "puppyish enthusiasm" before when describing the way Juni lights up when he's actually able to help, and it's almost comically accurate.

Juni's bolted from the room before Mason's sluggish brain has a chance to even process the humor at the observation into a snort.

He's alone again, and if Juni were still here, he'd call what Mason's doing pouting, but he's scowling, damn it. Not that anyone's around to see it save for Juni's stuffed animals. He pulls the pillow to his chest, half-burying himself underneath the blankets again. He keeps his foggy focus stretched far enough to hear Juni in the kitchen again, making a game effort not to clatter around noisily and failing spectacularly. It's the thought that counts, Mason supposes.

It doesn't actually take all that long for him to come back, but it still feels like ages with how shitty Mason feels. He's painfully aware of every single ache in his body, radiating down to his bones, of the fever burning him up, the mutinous turning of his stomach even as it gnaws itself apart with hunger. He’s becoming so bogged down in the prison his ailing body has become, he almost doesn’t notice Juni pattering his way back into the room. Almost.

The second he crosses the threshold, Mason senses are honing in on everything they can about him, his smell, his warmth, the way his cozy sweater (it’s midsummer, for fuck’s sake, and sure the AC is cranked due to Mason’s fever, but it always is, because Juni’s body regulates temperature like a goddamned lizard and he hates the heat almost more than Mason does) makes him look soft and touchable. It takes him a long while to even notice the detective is carrying a tea tray with a bowl on it, as well as a glass of water, and when he does, he’s honestly not sure what to make of the smell.

Human food is overwhelming, usually. But usually, Mason’s sinuses aren’t swollen and borderline useless. Juni is walking as carefully as he can, and there is a palpable relief when he sets the tray down on his bedside table without incident. “I made the broth already, because I didn’t want it to take too long if you said yes. It actually smells, like, really good? Is that gross of me to say?”

Mason tries to push himself upright, and his muscles protest loudly enough that he can’t quite bite back a grunt of pain. Juni makes a sound like he’s been shot, and his hands are on Mason with an urgency that vibrates through his skin. Still, his touch is an instant balm to the vampire’s overwrought senses, his hands gentle as they ease him upright and fussily pile pillows behind him to support him. It fucking sucks to be so weak, but at least it’s only Juni seeing him like this. He can’t quite express why, when it feels like his head’s stuffed full of cotton, but he thinks it would suck a lot more if he were riding this out alone, or in a sterile room at HQ. He lolls his head towards Juni, his cheek smashing against one of a half-dozen goddamned pillows piled around him, and laughs weakly. “Gonna feed me too, Nurse Fenn?”

Juni blushes, and the usual rush of his blood doesn’t smack Mason in the face like usual, but it washes over him in a gentle wave of warmth, that tempting smell tickling the back of his tongue. “Do you need me to?” he asks, and it’s pretty clear he’s trying to make it sound teasing, but it comes out much more earnest than anything else.

Mason almost wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want Juni to be in the splash zone if his stomach decides it can’t handle the detective’s little experiment. “Nah, I got it,” he grunts, reaching for the tray. It trembles dangerously when his shaking hands lift it, but Juni’s quick to steady it and guide it to his lap. He mutters a quiet thanks, and Juni mercifully doesn’t rib him for his uncharacteristic politeness. “You’d make a cute nurse, detective,” he says to cover the strangely loaded silence.

Juni laughs and sits on the edge of the bed, close but not quite touching. “I’m too squeamish,” he offers with a shrug that rubs their shoulders together.

“You just made me soup out of blood,” Mason says dully.

“I also have a borderline breakdown giving myself the same shot I’ve been giving myself every week for the last decade,” Juni retorts. “Do you really think I could do it for someone else?”

Mason snorts. “Probably not. Would kill to see you in one of those little dresses, though.”

The only thing protecting Mason from getting a hilariously ineffectual swat on the shoulder is the bowl of soup in his lap. He’s not even sure his current feeble condition would be enough to stop Juni otherwise. “Eat your soup, asshole,” Juni groans, covering his burning face with his hands. He peeks through his fingers after a moment’s hesitation, “And maybe I’ll show you the Halloween costume Tina got me as a joke a couple years ago when you’re feeling better.”

Mason’s whole body reacts to that, and he can’t be sure if the chill that rolls down his spine is due to the illness, or something else entirely. If nothing else, choking down some soup will be worth it, just for that promise.

The first spoonful goes down surprisingly easy. He doesn’t really taste much, at first, not even the coppery tang of blood. It’s thin, as Juni promised, so it doesn’t quite coat his mouth the same way fresh, raw blood would. Juni’s watching him with obvious concern, eyebrows scrunched together and plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Either concern that Mason’s body is going to reject it fully, or he just won’t fucking like it. Probably both.

“It’s not too hot, is it?” Juni asks, touching Mason’s knee lightly through the blanket. He swallows his mouthful hard and bites down the urge to ask the human not to stop touching him.

“S’fine,” he grunts, trying to parse what exactly he makes of it at all. The warmth feels nice, soothing his raw throat. He takes another bite. He thinks he can sort of make out the individual spices underneath the taste of the blood and the broth (slightly watered down bone broth, he;d guess) but he can’t really smell them either. The ginger, at least, is obvious. He knows the smell enough to guess the taste, even with the complete lack of culinary experience. It’s, strangely enough, not horrible. It does taste mostly like thinned-out blood, which is weird, and gives him a sense of dissonance from the texture he expects blood to have. “Weird.”

Juni doesn’t seem to take offense to that. “Well, you’re not spewing it across the room like you’re possessed, at least, so weird is better than bad?” he laughs, squeezing Mason’s knee. “How’s your stomach?”

Mason takes a second to consider. “Not great, but not terrible.”

Juni almost deflates with relief. “And the taste? It’s not too much, is it? I can be kind of heavy-handed with my seasoning, so I tried to be really careful. It’s really only a pinch of salt, sage, and ginger, with a little bit of licorice root, which I know is kind of weird, but it’s good for sore throats?”

“Tastes like…” Mason screws up his face, realizing he has absolutely no context to work with. “I don’t know. I think I like it?”

Juni smiles like the goddamned sun, and it somehow makes his snarky little pet name for Mason that much funnier. “Really?”

Mason’s not sure he’d be saying the same thing if his senses weren’t dulled to near-uselessness by his traitorous body, but the way Juni looks, like he couldn’t be happier to be dealing with a sick, cranky vampire hogging his bed and sweating in his sheets, makes him bite his tongue. There’s always a brightness to the human when he brings food to the warehouse for Nate and Felix, he smiles so wide his face almost cracks when Adam crumples under the weight of those puppy eyes and takes the smallest portion of whatever concoction Juni’s brought to nibble on, and offers the most awkward compliment he can manage. Juni just likes doing things for people, providing for them any way he can. Food is his usual go-to, but if he can help at all, he’s happy.

I can’t really do that for you.

It almost makes Mason wish he could enjoy whatever the detective whips up in his cramped little kitchen, just to make him smile.

Christ, his brain must be more addled than he thought.

He manages a few more spoonfuls of soup before his stomach starts to feel uncomfortably full, but the gnawing hunger of going too long without drinking has gone away, and he doesn’t feel so much like he’s going to puke like he did earlier. He feels heavy, and tired, and honestly that’s one hell of an improvement. Juni’s quick to take the tray and spirit it off back to the kitchen, bending to press a quick kiss to Mason’s cheek before he goes, and when he returns, the vampire is slumped in his pillow nest and half-asleep, eyes shuttered to thin slits.

He feels more than he sees Juni approach, and when a gentle hand smooths over his clammy forehead, he pushes up into it with a raw, weak noise he has zero energy to be embarrassed by anymore. He reaches out blindly, tangles his fingers in the knit of his detective’s sweater, and tugs. He can’t be sure how it happens, a jumble of movement and complaining muscles, but Juni winds up in bed with him, slouched comfortably against the pillows so Mason can rest his head on the soft curve of his belly. The human plays idly, sweetly with his hair, twirling damp curls around his fingers.

“I’m sweaty,” Mason halfheartedly protests. Juni’s stomach rises and falls beneath his head. It feels like being on the ocean, like being rocked to sleep on quiet waves.

“I don’t mind,” Juni murmurs, thumb stroking the shell of his ear.

Before he can think of anything to say to that, he’s being pulled under, dozing off between one breath and the next.

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fromiftowhen · 4 years ago

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The Rookie: 3x09 Amber Thoughts/Spoilers

I have… a LOT of thoughts about this episode. Unsurprisingly, the majority of them are Chenford related, but I had a LOT of West and Lopez feels too, so. Here we go. I started to try to get my feelings out, but it just became me copying quotes that I either laughed or had other feelings about, so…

“Grey’s busy, and Smitty’s getting a back tattoo.”

“That’s --”

“Don’t ask.

-- When I say I laughed out loud. Jackson and Smitty’s relationship is one of the best callbacks this show does, and every mention of that ridiculous man is hilarious.

“But it’s super important she doesn’t get shot today.”

“No promises. You ride with me, you ride the rollercoaster.”

-- Nyla Harper is my favorite person. She was excellent in this episode, from the very beginning to the sweet moment at the end (that ending scene did NOT need to be about Nolan, this should have been solely focused on Lucy and Jackson and what they accomplished today, but I can’t say I’m surprised. But Harper made it better.)

Tim tossing the list out the window immediately.

“You know, littering is a $250 fine.”

“Worth it.”

Lucy pulling a backup list right out. They know each other SO well.

-- HILARIOUS. Although I’ll admit my guard was up the moment she pulled that list out and used the word “trickery.” It worked out differently than I thought it would, but… well. We’ll get to that.

“I knew my TO would be important to my career. But I don’t know. I didn’t realize how important you’d be to my life.”

-- I should have been more prepared for the Lopez and West feelings today. Their relationship probably started out the rockiest of all the TO/rookie pairings, and maybe rightfully so… but it’s become the least complicated, the closest to friendship the fastest, and their bond is just really something. Jackson was right - a LOT has happened in their 13 months together (yes, show, I remember exactly how long it’s been -- do you?) and they’ve both grown and changed in such wonderful ways. Angela looked sentimental the whole episode (while still being her badass, hilarious self) and West looked SO relaxed, it was such a lovely bookend to their first days together.

“I wish someone taught me how to be in this one.”

“Oh, so we are in a relationship.”

-- All the references to a relationship were good, if not entirely baity. But Tim’s delivery of that line was amazing and made me laugh out loud. He sounds so long-suffering and very much like an exasperated husband, and it really pinpointed one of the ways they interact that just WORKS so well. It just feels natural, and Eric Winter’s delivery was great.

“Tell me the truth -- Am I gonna poop myself?”

-- This entire conversation was so randomly hilarious (but added levity they all clearly needed then). Harper and Lopez are hilarious together and I truly wish the show gave us more of that.

“Don’t worry -- I will personally stand watch over your kid until you leave the hospital.”

-- Jackson West. I love you.

“I really hope our last shift together doesn’t end with that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

-- EMOTIONS.

Tim distracting her with her list. The man KNOWS her. And him acknowledging that she’s been to hell and back. Again, I say -- EMOTIONS. It was such a good callback to him knowing she needs to focus on work and order and process to remain calm in some situations.

“One look from you could send me into a tailspin.” And one day, it will again -- in an entirely different way, I am SURE. The way they both knew she was referring to Plain Clothes Day was great.

“I dunno. Smitty is surprisingly maternal.”

“That is the most horrifying idea I’ve ever heard, and I want it to be a reality show so bad.”

“Right? I would watch the hell out of that.”

-- Lowkey this was the most hilarious exchange of the night. I would also watch the hell out of that reality show. All these little moments made me miss Lopez and West together so much. Their scene at the end of the episode was lovely. All the times he thanked her. Please still let them interact often. The show NEEDS it.

“We did it.”

“No. You did it.” THE MOST TIM BRADFORD THING I’VE EVER HEARD.

“Office Chen impressed me with every decision she made today. I will miss riding with her.”

The callback to the evaluation in Plain Clothes Day. My heart skipped a beat, honestly. The way that Tim was looking at her in this scene while she read the note was… it was a lot, and apparently too much for me to process currently because that’s the most intelligible thing I’ve got to say about it.

“You don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t do something. Not even me.”

-- WHILE HE HELD THE HANDSHAKE. This one line tells you all you need to know about Tim Bradford and his RELATIONSHIP with Lucy Chen, honestly. He knows she’s “as tough as they come” and has “been to hell and back” and he knows, even if it scares him, even if it gives him flashbacks to Isabel, that she can do it.

Her gift to him was such a nice callback. For a show that doesn’t seem to track or care about its actual timeline, they’ve done a wonderful job with callbacks especially this season, and especially Tim and Lucy related ones. All the Caleb/Rosalind stuff. All Isabel mentions. Multiple mentions of Plain Clothes Day and their first day riding together, etc.

Every. Single. Time. He has called her Lucy this season, I have had to compose myself, none more than in this episode. I do kind of wish they’d waited until that last moment to have him call her Lucy (to her face, we all know I don’t think the phone call scene from season one, although one of their very best moments, counts)... it might have felt slightly more impactful (although the moment in the season premiere was great in its own way.)

Honestly, it was a little weird for me watching the show tackle their final moments as TO/rookie because I’ve written so many versions of that myself? (And look, I’m not gonna lie, their version gave me feelings, but I liked mine better). I wish that truly lovely garage scene hadn’t come on the heels of that “confession” scene, but it did help make up for it.

You might have noticed that I specifically skipped over that “confession” scene in the shop. As soon as he started talking about lying and UC work, I said “ugh” and then immediately wrote the scene in my head -- down to her laugh, it was that predictable once you got the gist. And I’m going to be honest -- if I had written it, I would have deleted it.

I KNEW going in -- and I think most people will agree -- that this was not going to be a true confession. That we weren’t going to get a Chenford love confession tonight (and please, can we discuss that ‘canon’ and ‘endgame’ are not interchangeable for just a sec.) But the way it happened just felt SUPER ship baity, and using it in the promo even more so. I just felt super pandered to in a ridiculous way that didn’t leave me with the most pleasant feelings about the writers… the garage scene at the end definitely helped, but overall the confession scene left a sour taste.

The thing is -- the things she said? How he saved her? How the reason he’s protective of her is that he might have feelings too? Those are all valid things! And things that, at least in fic, I believe. But watching that scene, me, someone who can read something shippy in the TINIEST glance? I didn’t FEEL those things. I wasn’t nodding along like “yep, yep, that’s all true” -- there wasn’t a moment during that scene where they looked at each other and I thought “yes, this is hitting too close to home for one of them.” Maybe that’s just me. I don’t know.

And I don’t know if that’s because I was too in my feelings about being badly pandered to, or if it just wasn’t there, or what. But… just overall I’m left with a feeling that it was just an entirely unnecessary scene that probably didn’t serve the ship well, just judging by some reactions I’ve seen.

Those feelings though? The ones I wanted to feel in that confession scene? I FELT THOSE, every single one of them, in the parking garage scene at the end.

Every look was perfect. Every pause, the handshake (a hug would have truly saved the confession mess, let's be honest, but can't be picky), the way he looked at her as she read, THAT is the writers do SO perfectly right for Tim and Lucy (and I know the majority of that credit goes to Eric and Melissa, because the moments that are the most impactful are the looks that just can't be entirely scripted.)

Do I still ship them with every fiber of my being? Yes, and nothing the writers do or don’t do will change that. Will I still (eventually again) write a million words about them falling in love how I think they should? Yes. Do I need the show to stick to moments like in the parking garage -- real, honest moments between them? YES. That is what the show gets right about their relationship. If they can just stick to those moments -- and somehow continue them and make them believable even if they’re no longer riding together -- I’ll be happy.

Am I worried about their interactions now that they’re no longer riding together? Yes. Their chemistry is honestly the best thing on this show. Giving less screen time to Lopez and West together has been rough -- not only on the relationships aspect that so much drives the show but on the timing/pacing as well -- and I worry that their best characters/best ship not sharing as much screen time will not help either of these issues.

Maybe they’ll surprise me. I hope -- I think -- they will.

(Random, but things I still need from this season: A Rachel mention? Don't get me wrong, if they want to forget her, I'm cool... but it feels like (even a fake love) confession should have been the right time to be like "I know this is awkward, you're dating my friend..." Come on, show. I don't care about her, but you tried HARD to sell us on her last season, so at least give her a two second mention to update us on what is actually going on. The Lopez-Evers wedding. (Do I think it'll be THE Chenford event most people are hoping for? No. But I'm ready to be proven wrong.) A continuation on Harper's love life. UPDATE ME on my girl.)

#the rookie #chenford #the rookie spoilers #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie abc #tucy

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hockeywhy · 4 years ago

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rock on; t. jost

WARNINGS: none WORD COUNT: 2.2k A/N: I wrote this back when Josty blessed all the goths with his black lipstick and choker and space buns last Halloween, so I thought well, why not re-post it and here it is.

“Babe?”

“Mhm…”

You watch in amusement as Tyson hovers around your makeup table, occasionally picking at an item now and then to inspect it before setting it back in its place. Although he tries to make himself appear as nonchalant as he can, you know there is something on his mind that made him circle around the area for the past half hour or so. You didn’t think much of it initially until he started uncapping some lipsticks, twirling them up for inspection, eyebrows furrowing in concentration before setting them down again. If you didn’t know him for as long as you did, you’d pass off his behaviour as an act of boredom, but you can swear you know him even better than you know yourself at times. There is purpose to his movement, and you’re set on finding out what’s been nagging at him.

“See anything you like?” you ask cautiously, though there’s a hint of amusement in your voice.

“What? No, I was just…” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, placing a pencil back in its place and for a brief moment, he catches your eyes in the mirror. It isn’t until you arch a brow in silent question that Tyson turns to face you properly. “So, you know how we have that little get together for Halloween tonight?” he questions, and you prompt him to carry on with a quick nod of your head. “Well, since you and Olivia are going to wear matching costumes, Dante and I thought of doing the same thing.”

“Let me guess. You two are finally agreeing with our Flintstones costumes, and will dress as Fred and Barney?”

Tyson chuckles and he shakes his head, almost regretfully. “Not quite. But, uh, do you happen to have a really dark shade of lipstick? Like a dark purple or…black, even?”

You sit up slowly then crawl over to sit closer to the foot of the bed. “I think I do. I’m pretty sure I do. Why do you ask?”

“Well, remember when we watched that Scooby Doo movie and you said you really liked those Hex Girls?”

You’re just a split second away from confirming you remember that because it only happened the previous night. You and Tyson knew you’d be hanging out with a few friends on Halloween night, so you booked off the Eve of it solely for yourselves. The movies were rolling one after the other throughout most of the day and the two of you went from watching genuinely scary films to children’s stuff like Hocus Pocus or Paranorman, though you found that both of you were especially keen on Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost. Whether it had to do with it being such a childhood classic or the familiarity of the characters, you and Tyson made sure you had enough snacks to last you the full run of the movie without either of you having to get up for refills. By the end of it, you were both trying to one-up each other for the best impersonation of the Hex Girls though you barely managed to make it halfway through before giving in to fits of laughter.

The coin dropped then.

“No way…” you exclaimed quietly while Tyson confirmed your guess with a quick nod and a big grin, clearly proud of the decision he and Dante came to at some point and could now finally put it to practice.

“Uh-huh. Well, we’re not dressing up as the Hex Girls but they’re definitely the inspiration, so… Think you can help?”

The sheer excitement of the thought made you squeal and jump up off the bed properly, clapping your hands together, mind already racing through the endless possibilities. Sure, you should probably make a start on putting together your own look for the approaching evening, but this was so much more exciting. Betty Rubble could wait. Tyson in a goth-rock look, however? You had to help him make a start on it – right now.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this sooner! I could’ve—oh gosh, we could’ve put together so many things!” you exclaimed while circling around him to browse quickly through a few items across the vanity, setting aside some tools in a pile you mentally labelled as the for-consideration pile.

“I trust you with this,” he assured, turning to sit properly in the seat while watching you go through what to him, seemed like endless options. “So, we’re thinking the full works, you know? All black outfits, maybe even makeup to go with it… What do you think?”

“I think this will be the best Halloween,” you confirm to him and press a quick kiss to his mouth for extra measure. Once you straighten up though, something keeps you hovering just behind Tyson to consider him with a slight tilt of your head and a narrowing of your eyes. Almost subconsciously, you bring a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through the curls and the gesture makes him tilt his head back in silent encouragement to keep doing that. “How about space buns?” you ask quietly, almost to yourself and briefly test out the idea by gathering some of his hair to part it. It’s long enough now, and so easy to work with that it’d be too much of a shame to pass on the opportunity. “Please say yes.”

Tyson laughs quietly, reaching back for one of your hands and giving it a light tug so that you can let him guide it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the heel of your palm and then the inside of your wrist.

“Go for it.”

The fun begins then and though the idea is very much Tyson and Dante’s, the entire process becomes your own.

You dig out an old black denim jacket you almost forgot about and when you both come to the conclusion that it’s probably a little too tight for Tyson around the arms and therefore not quite as rock-and-roll, you take a pair of scissors to it despite his endless string of assurance that surely there’s something else he could use.

“Babe, it has little gems around it. You can’t say no to the early 2000s type gems on clothing,” you tell him in a deadpan voice and that seems to do it just right.

The dressing up part is the easiest and perhaps the most straightforward, but when you finally sit him down at the vanity again so that you can make a start, Tyson makes you line up everything you’ll use so he can take a picture and send it to Dante. Just to make sure that they’ll be as closely matched as possible.

Tyson follows your guidance to a T: he looks up when you line his bottom lash line and looks down when you make a start on his eyelids; he parts his lips a little just before you make a start on lining them (not before exclaiming how good this entire look is coming along and pressing another kiss on his mouth which he returns just before you take a pencil to it) and bites down on a small folded tissue when you tell him.

All the while, you prevent him from trying to glimpse himself in the mirror but after he gets past the first two complaints (“babe, come on I just want to look really quick” and “is it because I don’t fit this at all and you’re trying to soften the blow?”), Tyson simply settles quietly, legs spread just enough to let you stand closer while parting his hair. Occasionally, he’d loosely wrap his arms around your waist or casually caress your sides with his palms but other than that, the entire situation is reminiscent of days from childhood when you and your girlfriends would take turns helping each other with dress-up and sitting as still as possible out of sheer fear the slightest inclination of your body would ruin everything.

It isn’t until you finish doing one of the space buns that you lean back a little to look at him properly, and you can’t help the small giggle that escapes your mouth.

“I think this is it, baby,” you tell him. “This is the costume for you.”

A slight furrow forms on his face and his smile is almost cautious. “I can’t tell if you mean it’s horrifically good or horrifically horrific. Not that I don’t trust your skills!” he corrects quickly, before you even have the chance to consider that in the first place. “I don’t think I’d trust anyone with a pencil anywhere near my eye except you, but I’m pretty sure between the two of us, you’d rock the eyeliner, dark lipstick and space buns better than anyone can.”

You arch an eyebrow but waste no more time getting started on the second bun. “What, you’re telling me you never let Kacey lure you into playing dress up as kids?” There’s a moment of hesitation, so you know you got him. Besides, you’ve seen the photos. Those were some of the first Kacey showed you as soon as Tyson introduced you to his family. “Thought so. Now let me just get this one done and you’ll see you might just give Dusk a run for her money.”

Try as you might though, and you couldn’t tame one of his curls from falling over his forehead and though you had an apparent endless supply of pins, you decided to give them a pass. There is something so incredibly endearing about that one loose strand that refused to be tamed and besides, you figured Instagram would thank you for it if any photos were to go up on the internet. For extra safety, you twirl it around your finger then set it loose before bringing your palms up to hover in front of his eyes.

“Alright, now turn around slowly and I dare you to tell me this isn’t an entire look.”

He does as told and once he’s facing the mirror, you make an entire show out of removing your hands, complete with a ta-dah!

At once, his mouth falls open and slowly, he turns his head one way then the other before tilting it down just enough to catch a full glimpse of the buns sitting atop his head.

“Oh my god…” he mutters, and you can tell his voice is caught somewhere between regret and amusement, so you wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing your head down to rest on his shoulder after pecking his cheek quickly.

“If Dante came up with this idea, I’m buying him the most lavish box of chocolates. If you came up with this idea, it’ll take a lot to beat it, I promise that,” you assure him and Tyson bursts into embarrassed laughter.

“I look like I’m about to record the remix to an Alice Cooper song.”

“I wanna kiss you but I want it too much. I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison,” you quote in a soft sing-song voice and just as you’re about to pull away from him just to add that extra dramatic flair, Tyson catches your wrist and reels you back in towards him gently, meeting you halfway as he stands up.

“Keep going,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You chuckle softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Don’t spoil your lipstick so soon, baby. You didn’t even get to show it off to everyone else, so let’s save it for later, okay?”

It isn’t until you emerge from your bedroom almost an hour later after completing your own dress up that you notice Tyson had one extra surprise up his sleeve. He turns towards the sound of your footsteps and gleaming around his neck is a spiked leather choker that makes your jaw fall open. He stretches his arms out and does a slow spin, and when he faces you again, he tips his head back just a little as if to give you a better view.

“Yes? No?” he questions, and you detect a trace of hesitance in his voice.

“Yes,” you confirm, almost breathlessly as you close the gap between the two of you and despite your earlier warning, kiss him even if some of the black lipstick might transfer onto your own hot pink one. It’s no bother, anyway. You have your tube and Tyson’s packed in your clutch.

Just as you’re about to make a move towards the door, however, Tyson stops you and encourages you to do a full spin.

“Wow,” he exclaims, following that up with a low whistle. “It’s really not too late at all for me to get into that Barney costume.”

“Absolutely not,” you state firmly and to make your point even clearer, you quickly push him out of the door. “Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone are going to just have a girls’ Halloween get-together and we’ll see our husbands when we get back home. Meanwhile, you and Dante can put on a show worthy of a 2000s middle school goth-rock party. Hey, do you know the lyrics to My Chemical Romance’s I’m Not Okay?”

“I’m not singing My Chemical Romance,” Tyson says quickly, almost stumbling his words in doing so as if saying it any slower would mean he’d have to do it right there and then.

“Oh, you are so singing My Chemical Romance,” you say softly, voice taking on that sing-song tone again and burst into laughter as Tyson groans, gently bumping his head against the steering wheel.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#remember when tyson just decided to win halloween????? remember that????#i just thought of it randomly today and i was like holy shit #he makes me miss doing my own hair up in space buns so i think i will tomorrow lol

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koskareevesismyqueen · 4 years ago

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Echo’s Girl, Part I

Pairing: Echo x f!reader

Description: Becoming clone trooper Echo’s girl

AO3 link here

Link to the optional explicit part coming soon

Rating: teen

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Author’s note: This is more of a set up chapter for reader and Echo’s relationship. I will be posting an optional chapter for 18+ audiences in the next couple of days (please please please only engage if you are over 18 and prepared to read NSFW content). There will be 4 parts and we’ll see Echo next as an ARC Trooper! I hope you enjoy this part – if you do please consider reblogging it to share it with other people.

Part I – Clone Trooper

Your first fieldwork assignment. You were nervous, so kriffing nervous. You knew exactly what you had to do but somehow, being dropped off at the Grand Army of the Republic’s barracks, surrounded by soldiers and weapons and war ships made it all the more terrifying. You weren’t quite sure if you were built to be here. No, you knew you weren’t built to be here. You were a scientist and that’s where you were comfortable, in a lab or in the field conducting research. But with the Republic’s funding your best option was getting transport via the GAR, so here you were. You make your way off the taxi speeder, nervously playing with the straps on your bag as a soldier jogs his way towards you. You gulp. This was getting scarier and scarier by the second. How were you supposed to last on a warship for a week?

“Doctor?” He asks as he steps toward you.

“Uh, not yet but yes,” you say and his brow furrows in confusion, but he holds his hand out to take your bag anyway.

“Captain Rex,” he says with a shy smile, “I’ll take you to meet the rest of the boys. We’ll all be around for the next week until you’ve left us for your mission, so it’ll be good for you to have a few friendly faces.”

You nod and follow along, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, completely and utterly out of your depth but trying hard to stay afloat. He takes you over to a group of soldiers who are milling about, clearly enjoying a few moments of peace.

“Men, I’d like to introduce you to our guest. She’ll be staying with us for the next week until we drop her off for her mission. She’s no soldier so if anyone wants to accompany her, show her around so she can get used to being here…”

One of the soldiers steps forward, white armour with the signature blue decals that match the rest of the men, then his own unique handprint that adorns his chest. He reaches up and takes his helmet off and in that moment your heart stops. Yeah, every single man here looks exactly the same. But there’s something about him. You take a deep breath and smile as all the other men and Rex melt away. You hold out your hand to introduce yourself and he smiles sweetly in return.

“I’m Echo. We’ll load up onto the ship, get your stuff in your room and then once we’re in hyperspace I’ll give you the grand tour.” You follow him, suddenly feeling a little less lost and like you’ve found a little piece of home.

♡

You relax a little more once the ship has lurched into hyperspace. You’re no stranger to space travel but it still makes you feel a little queasy each time. Now you’re comfortably travelling and Echo’s grand tour has started you feel like you can semi settle for the next week at least. If you had to live this life for much longer you don’t think you’d cope, but it’s okay for now. Echo shows you the important spots like medical areas, the canteen, and transports. He even takes the time to show you a few quieter spots where you can get a little peace and quiet if you need it. For a few moments you stand in each spot drinking in the silence and the shades of blue that hyperspace creates, thinking about how peaceful the silence is with Echo. At one point, you tilt your gaze to look up at him and the way the blue falls over his features. He moves his gaze to meet yours and for a moment you stop breathing, worried your little crush was coming on too strong. But he just smiles that sweet, warm smile and gently takes your hand to pull you towards your next destination. He lets go of it as soon as you’re heading the right way, but you feel the lingering sensation of his touch on your palm and will him to hold your hand again.

Kriff, you think to yourself, suddenly disgusted that you weren’t acting like a lost puppy but a love sick one, you’d only been away from normal human contact for a few hours and you were already acting like this?

“That’s pretty much everything. We don’t have much to do during travel time apart from prepping for the next mission and we generally have to stay out of the cafeteria unless it’s our designated time to eat, but I guess I could chat with the service droids and see if you get special exemptions?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I need caf to keep me fuelled while I keep sorting through literature,” you say with a small chuckle as you hold up the data pad.

“So, what’s your research about?” Echo asks as you head back towards the cafeteria.

“I’m monitoring purrgil movements. We know…not a lot about them and now with the war on and more ship movement we need to predict their movements to ensure safety. I’m trying to better understand them, breeding patterns and movements so we can avoid them during ship movements.”

“Oh, so, I guess you’re working to protect the clones in a roundabout way?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve never thought about it that way before. I just think of it that I’m protecting the purrgils too. Most people just think of them as a nuisance but they’re beautiful creatures which have been massively looked down upon. It’s sad, and I hope my work can change people’s opinions.”

You walk into the cafeteria and the white walls are a stark contrast to the grey of the rest of the ship.

“Wait here,” Echo says, motioning to an empty table, “I’ll go and chat to the droid.” Echo jogs off and you can’t help but admire him for a second before turning your attention to your data pad. You flick through your schedule, moving around what work you had planned for when to make your schedule for the next week a little more…hyperspace doable. The soft sound of two plastic mugs clinking off the table pulls your attention away from your work and instead to Echo’s warm smile.

“Droid says you can come in whenever. Even gave us hot cocoa now to seal the deal,” he smiles triumphantly as your eyes light up.

You take the mug in your hands, cradling it as you allow the heat to rise through you, then take a deep sip. It’s the kind of rubbish hot cocoa you had on camping trips when you were younger. It’s good.

“Mmmmmm,” you say between sips, “this is amazing. If I ever need something doing while I’m here, I’m coming to you Echo. Your negotiation skills are supreme.”

He lets out a soft chuckle which fills you with a warmth that the hot cocoa never could, and the two of you launch into easy conversation. You tell Echo more about your research and how you got into it, your life on Coruscant and everything that goes with it. He tells you about life as a clone trooper, growing up on Kamino and his brothers. The time passes fast and your schedule for starting up on work goes through the window but you don’t mind at all.

“Hey, Echo,” another clone trooper says as he jogs up to your table. He’s similar looking to Echo of course, but with a tattoo of the number 5 on his temple and facial hair on his chin. You briefly remember seeing him near Echo at the start of the day, although you can’t remember who Rex introduced him as, and assume the two are close.

“Hey, ner vod,” he quickly introduces his brother as Fives.

“We’re going to the onboard 79s tonight,” Fives turns his gaze to you, “you’re welcome to come, save you from being bored to death by this one all night,” he punches Echo in the process, and Echo glowers back at him.

“Yeah, sounds good. Any excuse to get away from doing work anyway.” Not that you had managed to do more than rearrange your schedule so far, which had been pointless anyway as you had ended up spending all afternoon with Echo instead.

“Okay, well we were going to head down in a couple of hours so I’ll see you then. Echo, we’re going to do some training to kill time. You in?”

Echo looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s fine, I should probably get a little work in and take a shower first anyway.”

“Can you remember where you’re going?”

“Yeah, roughly. I’ll find my way.”

“Okay, well as long as you’re still not wondering around the ship lost I’ll come grab you at 1900.”

You watch Echo go with Fives, a small smile creeping across your lips and a giddy feeling searing through your veins.

♡

You’re on fieldwork, you didn’t exactly plan to bring any nice clothes. You have a couple of pairs of leggings which at least flatter your figure and a couple of cropped vest tops that you usually sleep in. When you pair them together you don’t exactly look party ready, but you decide that you look good enough for whatever an onboard bar is like for clone troopers. You pull your hair out of its braids and put on the very small amount of makeup you packed. You decide, all in all you look good. But the nerves are eating you alive right now. Partly at not wanting to make a fool of yourself, but also the fear that you were maybe misreading Echo and making a fool of yourself that way. You shake your head to clear the negative thoughts, then jump at the knock on your door.

You step out and Echo is waiting for you, playing with his gloves and you hope, for a brief second, that he feels as nervous as you.

“You look amazing,” he says, his voice wobbling slightly. He had to be nervous, had to be.

You smile back, “so, this onboard bar?”

“Oh, it’s not much,” he says with a small laugh, “just a corner that was quiet enough for us to find a new use for it. We thought it’d get shut down, but I guess they decided a little down time was good for us.”

And he’s right. When you arrived at the ‘bar’ it’s not a lot at all. A dark space strung with whatever artificial lights had been found around, upturned boxes and storage containers. The bar itself was only obvious because of the sheer number of troopers milled around it. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, the only female there, and almost as if he can sense it Echo protectively wraps his arm around you. The attention of the gazes pinning you immediately shift and you feel instantly better. Granted, it shouldn’t take a man’s protection to make you feel safe but with Echo it felt too good to deny. He guides you over to the makeshift table where Fives and a few of the other guys from this morning are sat.

“So, how did you manage to put up with this one all day?”

You let out a soft chuckle, “I grew up with 5 sisters, believe me I can put up with a lot.” But you lean back a little and give Echo a soft nudge, resulting in him giving you an affectionate smile. The night goes on and it’s incredibly easy with the boys, especially with Echo guiding you through in moments where you feel unsure. It’s obvious how close they all are, especially Echo and Fives who you now know grew up together. Rex makes a brief appearance although you get the impression that it’s more to keep up appearances and morale than actually wanting to be there. You can’t help but feel that he’s a little preoccupied, although you can’t blame him either.

You’re there for a few hours before you decide to call it a night. After all, you do have work to do at some point and you had spent a whole day away from it. Not wasted, because spending the day with Echo had been fun. But it was still time away from work that you couldn’t afford in the long run.

You turn to Echo, gently squeezing his arm to get his attention.

“You okay?” He asks, the liquid courage clearly showing as he takes your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah, I was thinking of heading off soon. I have a bunch of work to catch up on tomorrow so I should probably wake up early.”

“Sure, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh, it’s fine Echo. You stay here, I can find my way back.”

But he’s clearly made his mind up because he links in fingers in yours as he stands up, so you follow.

“Bye guys, it was nice getting to know you all tonight!” You call out as they say they’re goodbyes (and a few whistles in reaction to your’s and Echo’s entwined fingers).

You walk in peaceful silence back to your room, although you can tell that Echo is gearing up to say something. You stop when you reach you door, gently squeezing Echo’s fingers as an almost goodbye. But instead, he takes your other hand in his so the two of you are facing each other.

“I, uh. I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed spending time with you today. It’s nice to have a break away from the guys sometimes. And, I really like, uh, you. Specifically.” You smile at Echo’s words, his nerves feeling you with the sweetest feeling. Knowing that he clearly won’t make the move himself, you pull your hands away from his and place them on his cheeks, pulling the two of you together and your lips to lock. For a second, he pauses, clearly a little taken back. But then he gently places his hands on your waist pulling you into him and you deepen the kiss, fireworks exploding through your veins with ecstasy. After a few moments you pull away, willing your legs to keep working and not turn to jelly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Echo,” you say before placing a final soft kiss on his cheek and escaping into your room.

♡♡♡♡♡

#echo #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x f!reader #bad batch #the bad batch #the clone wars #bad batch x reader

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icollectyoursins · 4 years ago

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Kishibe Rohan x Reader SFW + NSFW

Anon said: “Consider Rohan sfw and nsfw hcs? And in nsfw Rohan could be a top,,? Prrtty pleade hhh, since there is only one work of Rohan ;;”

I hope these are good, not too familiar with Rohan, so I hope you like it!

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Making out, stands used in inappropriate ways, fingering, voyeurism, dildos, fucking machines, spanking, hand jobs, blow jobs, oral, face fucking, cock warming, nipple play, nude modelling.

Word Counts: 2201

SFW

Rohan is a jackass who cares. In the beginning, he’s very private and stand-offish, but he does warm up to you eventually, though he’s still nicer in private than he is in public. He claims this is because he’s a “celebrity” and can’t have his fans see you too close together yada, yada. It’s bullshit and you know it, but you have the feeling it’s because he’s not used to people being close to him.

Yes, he does have a binder dedicated to paintings, drawings, sketches, etc. all for you. Some are a little on the artistically lewd side, but most of them are of your hands holding something or your smile, your face and shoulders. Some of them he asked you to model for, others he quickly sketched down while you weren’t paying attention and then finished later.

When he’s not holed up inside, he enjoys walking down to either parts of Morioh where he can people watch or down to the park where he can study wildlife (and maybe draw you playing with ducks).

You are literally never bored in his house. He has every book under the earth and so many loose painting supplies that he painfully lets you use to fool around. (Though let’s be honest, He likes that you take an interest in his job and would be more than happy to give you tips.)

You know what? Rohan is a backseat artist. He watches every stroke you make over your shoulder and tells you maybe you should move the hand this way to make it more natural or add some light shading here to make it dynamic. It may come off as a little pretentious at first, but if you keep with it, he’ll notice the improvement and (occasionally) tell you how good you’re doing while being a total blushing mess.

You sat in the window seat, knees up with your back against the wall. Resting on your thighs was a sketchbook. Currently, you were just idly drawing lines of shading onto a face. Rohan himself was also busy colouring in his most recent page, though every now and then he would catch himself looking up at your silhouette, lit up by the light in some kind of halo effect.

Finally, he caved in to his curiosity. Setting down his pencils, he strode over to you. You didn’t notice until his face manifested itself over your shoulder. Startled, you jumped, causing your pencil to make a long line on your artwork.

“Jesus, warn me next time.” You said, grabbing your eraser.

“Have you been struggling with the nose?” He completely ignores you, still staring at your drawing. The paper was clearly marked up by the eraser with deeper marks from where the pencil was.

“Yeah, actually. It’s either too big or too small. Kind of just gave up.” You carefully tried to erase the long line but wound up taking away parts that you were actually happy with.

“Be more gentle with the pencil, it’ll make it easier to erase.” He suggested with a monotone.

“I tried-”

“And then you got frustrated and pushed harder. I admire your persistence, however, if something isn’t to your liking, walk away and come back. Remember to look at the picture as a whole, not just the nose.” You rolled your eyes, gently tossing your pencil onto the window seat. As much as you wanted to appreciate the advice, you had heard it all before. You were getting sick of it, frankly.

Rohan took note of your agitation, studying your face carefully. “You’ve improved, though!” You looked up, a little shocked. What? “The eyes are well done and your shading is very even. Good job.”

What? Your cheeks grew hot. That was the first bit of praise you had heard from him. About your drawing, at least. He looked down into your eyes, then felt his own face getting hot. He turned away. “Go take a break. I’ll help you when you get back in an hour. I’ll be timing you, don’t be late.”

Like I have said, he’s not overly fond of affection in public (in the beginning), but he can’t deny that holding your hand or feeling you on his arm makes him feel pretty good. The first few times, he’s internally a mess, though he won’t show anything other than a light tint of blush on his cheeks. But when he’s relaxing at home, he enjoys having you under his arm, leaning against him or with one of your heads in the other’s lap. He’s not used to people and even less so used to affection, but can be worked up to being more comfortable with stuff like kissing in front of the Morioh gang and the like.

When he’s comfortable, he is so cocky. Like, boarder line makes out with you in front of literally anyone just to prove you’re his S/O. This always makes you blush so much (unless you’re into that.) More often than not, he’ll have an arm around your shoulders, hand in pocket, looking so smug and proud and cool.

Pet names? He can either go one of two ways, depending on his mood. Either it’s just your name or babe OR it is every teasing name under the sun. Oh, darling can you do this for me? Oh, baby, oh, honey, oh, my love, oh, my flower. It’s usually used to get something from you or to get you to do something a little out of the box.

I can see Rohan as being the kind of person who is very strict about his bath time and hates when people interrupt him. On the rare occasion, he’ll let you in with him with the promise of either massaging him or something else *wink, wink*

NSFW (Dominant specifically)

Rohan literally does not shut up during sex. Praise, degradation, mocking, you name it! As a writer and an artist, he knows how to stitch words together in a masterful way that never fails to make you hot in the face.

Uh, yeah. He’s used Heaven’s Door on you before. Did he do it to learn your kinks? Maybe to put some kind of loose control over you in certain situations? Looking for people you find attractive for potential erm... art inspiration (voyeurism)? The world will never know.

Staying-on brand with HD, he absolutely uses it to learn everything that you enjoy in the bedroom. He knows how to make you squirm, where to push to make you scream, how to make you beg. He knows everything.

Particularly enjoys using this “power” to finger you, pressing into every sweet spot (that he made more sensitive with HD), licking over the edges of your hole in a way that just makes you dumb (either hole, not picky!)

A delicate finger was trailed up your twitching hole, making you shiver. Rohan had already stretched you open enough for it to easily slip in again. You were so sensitive from being teased over and over again, but with no relief that you cried out, tears threatening to burst forward.

He curled his finger up into a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves, slowly pushing into it more. You groaned and whined, blabbering out his name along with various ways to beg. He shushed you carelessly, sounding annoyed by your desperation. God, you wish you could move! You would give anything to be impaled by him right now. Or anything for that matter.

He removed the digit quickly, then promptly smacked your ass with a flat hand.

“Quiet.” You had no choice but to listen to him, involuntarily shutting your mouth and stifling your whimpers. “If you want something, be polite about it. Do you know how to be polite?”

You nodded your head, a single tear trailed down your cheek. Your hole was teased again, repeating the same process as before. Rohan was such an asshole, but god if you didn’t love it.

If you have established a relationship where he has complete control over everything you say or do, he will abuse it so much. Just, tells you to sit still, turns on a wand or vibrator and just tortures you to the point of tears. You can talk, he didn’t take that away (mostly because he wants to hear you beg), but the position he put you in on top of the order. It’s too much for you.

He’ll do the same with a dildo, a fucking machine, his own dick, does not matter! Once you give him that power, RIP to your organs.

Alright, now. Voyeurism. This man is a freak and does not try to hide it when it’s under the guise of “art.” Again, if established, he will hire random people to do whatever he wants to you. If you’re okay with it, he’ll record it for later research.

Rohan is a weird jealous type, so he checks out every person you meet and makes sure they’re perfect (ie. not competition and someone you’ll enjoy). Very rarely does he let you pick out the people. Like I said, he’s a weird jealous type. Likes to see you with other people, but not with other people, you know?

There is only one person who he considers competition that he wants you to fuck at least once and it’s Jotaro. Are we surprised? No. Dude is built like a god and has the goods to match. Even Rohan can’t deny it. He would probably want to join in as well, but Jotaro would never do anything like that.

Mmmm, punishments for being bratty? Ooooh, yes. Smack my ass like a drum! Makes you count, absolutely. If he’s in a bitchy, lazy mood he’ll use a paddle or something like that, other than that, he uses his hands.

As you’ve probably surmised, he likes having control over you in the bedroom, so it’s no surprise he also enjoys tying you up and has a particular fondness for swings where he’ll hang you up and tease you until you can barely walk.

I mentioned baths in the SFW section, now let me elaborate. Doesn’t like sex in the bath, he hates when the water gets everywhere, but loves when you worship him while scrubbing him down and will allow you to work him up with a light hand job. This usually leads to a blowjob of some kind whether it’s gentle or rough.

Speaking of! His favourite part of sex is probably oral. From sucking bruises into each other’s necks, rough kissing, right down to holding you against the wall and choking you with his dick. Or a dildo, if he wants something a little more adventurous like mirror sex with him taking you from behind and making you watch yourself choke over and over again.

Cock warming is only ever used as punishment for being too needy, but he will keep you in his lap until you’re in tears. He is absurdly patient when it comes to sex.

You whined, grinding yourself onto Rohan’s dick. He chuckled before letting out a theatrical sigh. Your grip on his shoulders got harder and you buried your face into his neck more.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He trailed a soft, teasing hand up your thigh. “You wanted attention, yes? Then, why are you complaining? Now, up, I need another look at my reference.”

You sighed, tired and riled up at the same time. With new vigour, you sat up, leaning back to show your artist his latest obsession. He hummed in appreciation, taking a minute to admire his muse before licking a warm stripe up your sternum making you gasp. He stopped, giving you a look of warning.

“Don’t move.” You gave him a curt nod, trying your best to follow your command while he returned his tongue to your chest, exploring your skin’s taste. He flicked over your nipple with the tip, testing your resolve before wrapping his lips around it, sucking harshly. A moan fought its way through your throat as he became more feverous with his suckling.

Rohan hummed with you, theatrically mulling over the saltiness, then switching to the next one. Satisfied with the redness around your nipples, he pulls back, looking you over once again. A lightbulb seems to go off in his head and he reaches for his sketchbook which only made his cock shift inside you, rubbing against your walls in a delightfully painful way.

“Rohan-sensei,” you moaned out. Admittedly, you didn’t like calling him that, but he insisted you call him sensei during times like this.

“Stop moving, you’re ruining the picture,” he chided. “Go back to the way you were, darling.” He leaned back, rolling his hips into you to punctuate his words as well as tease you.

Model nude for him. Whether you like it or not, he will ask you to do it and, if he’s in a sexy mood, you will be asked to do uncomfortable positions that will definitely leave you sore the next day. “It highlights how the muscles work for a new character I’m drawing” or so he says. Other than that, he’ll just let you pick somewhere comfortable and sexy to lie down.

#kishibe rohan not sfw #kishibe rohan n/s/f/w #rohan kishibe n/sfw #rohan n/sfw #rohan not sfw #rohan n/s/f/w #kishibe rohan x reader #kishibe rohan x reader n/sfw #kishibe rohan x reader not sfw #kishibe rohan x reader n/s/f/w #rohan prompts #not sfw #sfw

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amerrierworld · 4 years ago

Text

Babysitter (pt 9)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: A Loki interlude.

Characters: Hela, Loki

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation.

He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken.

A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock.

Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees.

Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance.

Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely.

With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog.

He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth.

Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.

Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground.

He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings.

An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.

A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder.

“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst.

“I’m not- fuck.”

He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut.

“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”

“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.

“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”

“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”

“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.

“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”

“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”

“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”

“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.

“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”

The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.

“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”

“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”

“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”

“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.

“They’re mean!”

“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.

“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”

“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”

“Me too!”

“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.

“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”

“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”

“But they’re mean to you?”

“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”

A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered.

Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.

It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.

He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately.

“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled.

“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Hela grumbled.

“Have you eaten?”

“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”

“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Glad to see you too, sister.”

Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it.

“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked.

“Beats me.”

“Did you kill her?”

Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”

“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”

Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”

Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”

“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...”

Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”

“Who?”

“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”

She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.

“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”

Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.

“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him.

Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.

“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”

Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”

“Be silent,” she hissed.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”

Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss.

“Tell me.”

And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.

“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days.

“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”

“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”

Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.

“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”

“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled.

“Fair enough.”

“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”

“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”

“And what is your current priority?”

“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak.

“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.

“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”

“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”

“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again.

“Shut it.”

A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!

taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill@gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901@marvels-writings

#hela #hela x reader #hela/reader #hela x you #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok fanfiction #loki #loki odinsin #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #cate blanchett #tom hiddleston #best siblings amirite #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago

Text

A Hero III (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay, so this is definitely the last part. I had so much fun writing this tbh, i really hope you guys enjoy it. I love love love writing jealousy. This chapter is all fluff, so sweet it’ll give you cavities. God, the thought of seeing shinsou smile and be happy, wow. im in love with him. Have fun reading and comment if you want more shinsou in the future

word count: 5200

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

“Shinsou, what do you think of this?” she held up a dress on the hanger. The price wasn’t nearly as bad as the other things in here, and it wasn’t in an ugly color. It was purple, of course. She loved purple ever since she met her friend. Her notebooks were purple and so was her new bedspread. It was nice to curl up in a cave of violet each night, almost like a night-long hug from him.

Gosh, she felt herself becoming flustered just thinking about it. You’re friends, Y/N. just because someone is nice to you does not mean they want to go out with you, seriously. She kept telling herself over and over in her head to focus on the task at hand.

They were shopping, specifically for her uncle’s wedding. She had literally nothing that looked mildly appropriate, her closet just stuff to the brim with uniforms and jeans and sweaters, nothing fancy. Two days before the actual ceremony, her mother woke her up early on a Sunday. “Go out and get yourself something nice to wear. I seriously cannot believe both of my children dress like complete slobs everyday.” Y/N heard her hothead mother say in her head once more. Did she really dress like a slob? She didn’t think so. Her clothes weren’t in fashion but also weren’t ugly.

Shinsou peered up from his phone where he sat on the bench. He didn’t necessarily plan on going out to the mall that day, he was actually going to sleep for most of it. He was quite surprised when he woke up at 10a.m. to his phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Without putting in much thought, he suddenly found himself dressed and walking down the road to her house.

“It looks fine.”

“Just fine? If it’s ugly, you have to tell me because mom will make me return it and get something else,” she complained.

“In that case, probably not. It’s kinda plain, don’t you think?” he commented. He stood from the bench. “Although, I do appreciate you only looking at purple dresses, let’s try something else.” He hummed to himself, as he walked past her. He didn’t really have an eye for women’s clothes, not at all. He just looked at them and tried to imagine Y/N wearing it. How the colors would look against her skin, and how it would flatter her shape. He tried not to think about her body too much, it would fluster him and he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes, he was sure of it.

“Let’s try red.”

“Red? Like blood?” she asked. He turned to look at her with a raised brow before he remembered she spent her days surrounded by her own blood, as that’s what he quirk entailed. Of course she would associate the color with it. Scrap that idea.

“Okay then, let’s try blue.” She nodded, agreeing with him. She never wore too much color, but that one wasn’t too bad. “Your budget is what? 100 dollars, right?” he asked as his eyes skimmed the racks in the area. Now that he looked at it, dresses really didn’t look that great when they just hung there.

She stepped up to walk at his side. “Yes. Do you see anything you like?”

“Not really. I have to see them on you to know if they’re good or not,” he told her. His eyes trailed down to a modest blue dress, okay for a party with family members. “Try this one. And then,” he scanned the room once more before walking over and grabbing another one. “Try this one. I’ll wait outside until you’re done.”

She took the dresses from his hands and pressed them to her chest. She would have never picked either of these dresses as they weren’t her style. She was self conscious in the first place, so she tended to avoid wearing anything that would draw attention to her. Just the thought of walking around in a nice dress, eyes turning to stare, it made her feel anxious.

Still, she was only with Shinsou. She didn’t have to worry about him seeing her. He wouldn’t judge or stare if she asked him not to. That’s the whole reason she brought him, because she wanted company and she trusted his opinion. If she looked bad, she was sure he would tell her to keep her from embarrassment.

In the dressing room, she slipped out of her casual clothes and threw the dress over her head, letting it fall down to rest against her body. The fabric was soft against her skin, and she felt herself running her fingers along the fabric, sighing at how delicate the material was. There wasn’t a design really, it was a pretty plain dress, but it fit perfectly. Usually clothes on fit right in one place and wrong in another, but this one wasn’t like that. She would have to see what it looked like with the zipper up.

“Hitoshi, can you come in?”

“What?”

“I need your help. My arms aren’t long enough to pull up the zipper,” she called to him again. Hesitantly, he stood from the little viewing bench and knocked on the door, which she had locked from the inside. She unlatched the little hook and cracked it open enough for him to slip in.

Admittedly, he felt weird, being in the dressing room with her; it felt so foreign to him. He kept his eyes trailed on the wall, not daring to look at her incase she was at all indecent. If Shinsou Hitoshi knew how to do anything, it was respecting women. “So what did you need?”

“Just do the zipper the rest of the way. I only got it halfway up,” she told him, and he looked down at her. She stood facing away from him, and indeed half the zipper was open. Carefully, with as much finesse as he could muster, he pulled up the zipper without touching much of her bare skin. He did rest a hand on her shoulder though to hold the dress in place.

You’re just friends. This shouldn’t even be a problem for you, he thought. But it was a problem. He felt flustered and a bit bothered, if he were being completely honest. He was so distracted he didn’t even hear what she was saying until she shook his arm.

“Yeah?”

“I said, how does this one look? It’s super comfortable, I have to say that.” First, she smoothed down the skirt and then she raised her arms slightly to her sides so he could see the whole thing.

He almost choked. She looked amazing. He loved seeing her in whatever clothes she wanted to wear. Uniform, big sweaters, jeans, pyjamas, it didn’t matter, she looked equally amazing in everything. It’s just something about seeing someone you care about so much in fancy clothes that leaves you shocked and mouth agape.

Subtly, he cleared his throat, and looked away from her. “Well, that’s settled. You’re gonna leave with that one.”

Y/N turned a bit in the mirror, checking herself and the dress out. It did look awfully nice on her, but she just couldn’t see herself wearing something so nice. She would probably think that about any dress she put on, and since Shinsou said he liked this one, it must be good. “Are you sure?”

He looked at her again, standing beside her so he could see her in the mirror as well. He ran a hand through his hair, and nodded. “Definitely. I don’t think you’ll find anything better than that one.”

“Really? What about this exact dress but in purple?” she laughed.

“Okay, maybe.”

He turned to leave, so she could get dressed but she stopped him. “Wait, you gotta unzip it too.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He walked up to stand behind her, his hands shaking only a little. He was surprised he wasn’t about to pass out. He rest one hand on her shoulder once again and the other pulled down the zipper slowly. It probably would have made it a lot easier on him if he just did it swiftly and then evaded the room immediately. Once it was down though, he was extremely quick to leave the room, undoing the latch, and sliding out of the room.

“Are you okay, Hitoshi?” the girl asked, and from outside the room, he could hear her slipping the dress off and the cloth hitting the floor.

Jesus Christ.

After a minute, the door unlatched and she walked out, carrying both the dresses on her arm. “Just have to put this one back and then we can get out of here,” she said, walking through the racks to hang up the second dress which she never even got the chance to try on. He was glad for that, as he didn’t have to go through that process again. He almost felt out of breath.

Why was he so immature? They weren’t little kids. She was his friend, and helping her put on her dress wasn’t anything to get worked up over. She was acting like everything was fine and nothing intimate just happened at all. It left him feeling almost ashamed with himself for overreacting. Clearly, she thought it was a normal thing.

As she bought her stuff at the counter, he shuffled awkwardly to the side. “Y/N, you wanna get something to eat after this?” Food would make him feel better. Carbs can do magic in almost all situations.

“Yes. Did you have anything in mind?”

“No, I thought I’d let you pick.” For a moment, she paused to exchange money with the lady at the counter. She hung the bag with her dress inside on her arm and turned to walk out of the store with her friend, who had his hands now shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Fried chicken,” she asked hopefully, looking up to him.

“Sure. You find us a table while I go and get the food,” he told her, and she could only nod in agreement. It was fucking hard to find a table in these crowded malls. Slowly, her eyes scanned the room and the dozens of people gathered around the tables eating their meals of choice. Finally, out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a table with only one chair and some trash sitting on it, but that was as good as they were gonna get. She walked over and picked up the leftover tray and tossed it in the trash a couple feet away.

“Excuse me, can I borrow one of these chairs?” she asked the table beside them with a couple extra chairs around, and they nodded, but their subtle glares told her she was bothering them. She cringed, but still dragged the chair over and took a seat. Her eyes wandered back over to Shinsou, who was waiting in line, but surprisingly, there was a girl standing right beside him. She was way too far away to hear what they were speaking about, but the girl seemed to be talking up a storm.

Maybe he knew her.

Damn, she sure is pretty, Y/N thought. Why did Shinsou know such a beautiful lady? He could talk to whoever he wanted, it wasn’t her place to say anything, she was just curious. Really, really, curious. So, she buried her nose in her phone to avoid those thoughts. Shinsou was free to talk to whoever he wanted.

It was fine, whatever.

Really.

Y/N couldn’t care less.

...

Okay, so (not) secretly, she cared a fuck ton.

After a while, she heard the chair across from her scratch against the floor and a tray be placed in the middle of the table. “Y/N, what are you looking at so angrily over there?” he asked, and she looked up from her phone, bewildered. Was she glaring at her own phone, where she was just looking at memes?

“Oh, uh, nothing. Thanks for the food. I could have paid my share.”

He raised a brow, clearly confused. She never turned down free food. Not once. Who does that? “Why? I offered anyway.”

“I know, but like...Well, I don’t know. I guess you’re right.” She took a bite of her food, but it didn’t taste very good. Instead, it just tasted bitter, like how she was feeling.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said calmly, adding, “I’m just curious who that girl was you were talking to.”

He thought for a moment before remembering. He’d completely forgotten that some lady tried talking to him. She was so insignificant that he just pushed it from his mind. He had better things to think about. He replied casually, “Oh, her? I don’t even know. She just came up to me and started talking to me.”

“About what?”

He shrugged. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t even think Y/N noticed her come up to him, nor did he think she would care. “Well, quite frankly, she was flirting with me, I think. She asked for my phone number and stuff…” Really, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

She felt her skin turn hot with anger, and even some embarrassment. Anyone could flirt with him, it didn’t matter to her how many girls he had on his phone. It wasn’t even her business. He could have a girlfriend and she couldn’t do shit about it. He was her friend, and she had to support him.

Only, that was easier said than done.

“Did you give her your number?”

“No, actually I told her to fuck off and leave me alone,” he answered, very bluntly at that. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re mad with me now.”

She shook her head, frustrated that she let her emotions show through so much. She was never good at that kind of thing, but she wished she could have avoided this entire conversation all together. “I’m fine. It doesn’t even matter, let's just eat.”

“Are you...Shit, are you jealous?” he asked. His lips turned up in a grin, seeing her face morph into one of a person who has been caught red handed. Deer in the headlights sort of expression. He found it funny. He didn’t really care if she was jealous, of what exactly, he didn’t know. He just thought it was so incredibly hilarious that she was.

“N-No!”

“You definitely are.”

“And so what if I am?” she huffed, shoving a couple french fries into her mouth angrily.

“Nothing really. I’m just surprised,” he teased, “Are you not getting enough attention, Y/N?”

“Shinsou, shut up! Now you’re just making fun of me!” she cried, covering her face with her hands.

He smiled, watching as he squirmed in her seat. She was so cute. He was having fun, just sitting here in this food court was actually a ton of fun for him, and for him any kind of fun was pretty rare. She kept putting french fries in her mouth to hide how she was pouting and how she couldn’t even look him in the eye. He noticed, and it only made his smile last longer.

Dammit, he loved her.

________________________________

Y/N sat at her desk, packing up her books and pens into her book bag. Class was over for the day, which meant she would go to the dorms and do her homework. A few days out of the week, Shinsou would go to train with his mentor, and today just happened to be that day.

“So, you have training today with Aizawa-sensei?” she asked.

He shook his head as he leant against her desk, waiting for her to be done. “Not today, he’s out sick.”

“Oh, good. You can help me with my homework then.” She stood up from her desk and slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’re so smart, I’m jealous. I wish it was that easy for me.”

“You’re smart, just in a different way, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah? What way? I’m stupid at everything.”

“You’re really good at picking friends.”

She laughed, pushing on his shoulder. Of course he would say that. He was never confident, in fact, he kinda hated himself. Most high schoolers do. But it was easy to crack jokes like that, and she always enjoyed them. It made him feel better about himself at the same time. To affirm time and time again that he was a good friend, good for her at least. Other friends he’d had before just ditched him because they didn’t like him.

Just as she walked out the door into the hall, the purple haired boy following closely behind, another student from their class approached them, his hand tucked behind his back. She didn’t really know him all that much. His quirk was very insignificant, and he didn’t have much of a personality either.

Truly though, when she was in class, she didn’t see anyone but the professor and Shinsou. It was pretty simple.

“Bakugo-chan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Um, sure, Tanaka. Is there something you needed?”

His eyes slid over to the tall, brooding figure behind her, who just stared off into space pretty mindlessly. She noticed the boy looking, but didn’t think much of it. Shinsou was fine there.

“Go ahead,” she said, and he snapped out of his daze.

“You see, I’ve been watching you since the beginning of the school year. I think you are the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever met,” he confessed, his words nearly slurring together as he spoke so fast. She blinked, not expecting a confession from the boy, or anyone for that matter. She swore they had only spoken maybe two times, maximum. Why would he like her?

Shinsou looked over now from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to make the kid uncomfortable. He wasn’t a bad guy, just another student trying to become the best they could be. Yet, he really, really hated hearing someone else talk that way about her. He was almost sure only he thought those things about Y/N; how beautiful she was, kind, strong, smart, and perfect. Now it seemed other people did as well? The thought of other people...fantasizing about his sweet friend made him feel sick to his stomach.

Then, much to her displeasure, the boy pulled out a small bouquet of flowers that were obviously picked from outside in the courtyard as they were mostly a mix of weeds and leaves. He shoved them in her direction, urging her to take them. Reluctantly, the plants found their way into her hands. “I really hope you like the flowers. I tried to pick the colors that would compliment your eyes.”

Wow, okay.

“Thank you, Tanaka-kun. They sure are pretty,” she said. Desperately, she wanted to just run away and pretend this encounter never happened. She never thought this would happen to her of all people. A loser like her.

“If you aren’t dating anyone else, I would like to take you on a date this weekend. We can go anywhere you want,” he asked hopefully, his eyes full of anticipation and yearning. “Please, you won’t regret it. I’ll make you so happy, Bakugo-chan. Please.”

Oh, God, he was begging.

“I’m sorry, but you should take these flowers back and give them to some other girl,” Y/N said as gently as she could, taking the boy’s hand to place the flowers into his palm. Immediately, the boy’s face crumbled, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. She felt so terrible for embarrassing him this way. “I’m really not the girl for you. My heart belongs to someone else, so I could never feel the same way for you.”

“I see,” he sighed. The boy’s eyes slid up to enviously glare at Shinsou, who looked right back with a vengeance. Everyone knew who Y/N really wanted. Maybe just maybe, the pair were only friends like they claimed. Tanaka was praying the entire day that she would accept his offer and leave Shinsou behind. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I just can’t understand why you’d fall in love with a villain like him.”

Shinsou felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach at those words. He closed his eyes and tried not to think much about it, but memories of those bullies in middle school just came back into his mind in full color. He felt that sense of dread hang over his head.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a monster! All he does is manipulate people to do what he wants. The only reason you love him is because he brainwashed you!”

Shinsou rarely felt like he might cry, but this was one of those moments. It was one thing for people to call him a monster in front of strangers, but he felt worse knowing that he was saying this to Y/N. She somehow avoided hearing all those insults and accusations until now, and suddenly he felt like his head was benign held under water, completely hopeless and weak. Y/N wouldn’t just betray him like that, trust this guys word over his own, he knew that for sure. He just felt so overwhelmed with shame. It made him feel terrible that people actually believed the only reason she was friends with him was because he brainwashed her. Couldn’t he have nice things as well?

He never wanted her to see this side of him, the side people perceived him as. He wanted to run away to his dorm and never leave the room again. What was the point now that he knew people thought of him like that still.

Y/N, much to everyone’s surprise, raised her hand and slapped their fellow student right across the face. “Fuck you!”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up, Shinsou.”

The boy who was slapped put his hand on his cheek and stared up at her in shock. She was so gentle and sweet most of the time. How could she slap him like that, enough to leave a mark? His precious and sweet crush.

“You call this boy a monster again, and I will beat your ass, do you hear me?” she commanded, and when he didn’t reply, she shoved on his shoulder. He stumbled back, nearly falling into the wall on the other side of the hall. “I said, did you hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shinsou Hitoshi is more of a man than you will ever be. Men don’t stoop to insulting others insecurities just because a pretty girl rejected him. Boo hoo, get a grip. You will never be half the hero Shinsou is,” she told him bitterly, glaring through narrowed eyes. Maybe she was being a bit harsh, she didn’t care. If it was one thing she learned from Katsuki, it was how to defend the people you love (even if it’s unnecessarily mean). Perhaps, she learned a bit too much from the blond...

She stepped back, letting her arms fall to her sides. “If I ever hear my name or Shinsou’s come out of your mouth again, I will not hesitate.”

He nodded, grabbing his bag off the floor and turning to run down the hall in the other direction. She brushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes and sighed, letting her shoulders finally sink into a relaxed state again. It had been a long time since she felt such pure rage burn in her heart. Normally, there was rarely a time someone bothered her enough to make her angry. It just wasn’t who she was.

Hearing those words about Shinsou sent her over the edge. No one would talk about him that way. Nobody, and she would make sure of it.

“Let’s go.” Her footsteps were practically stomps as she walked down the hall, her friend following close behind. “I can’t believe someone would have the nerve to say something like that to me about you? Like, who does he think he is?” Y/N grumbled, clenching and unclenching her fists by her side.

“Really, Y/N, you didn’t have to do that. I used to hear that stuff all the time.”

“Exactly! No one deserves to be treated like that, and you’ve already experienced far more than anyone should,” she told him. “He really tried to ask me out and then right after tried to talk shit about you. What an ass. Some boys just can’t take rejection, can they?.”

He only watched as she kept walking, but he didn’t feel like saying much. She was in too bad of a mood to reason with. He never imagined her acting like that. Even when they were training, she never got angry or even frustrated. She was so calm and gentle. For a moment there, she sounded exactly like her brother. It scared him, to be honest.

He appreciated her defending him though. It was the most anyone had done to stand up for him.

Worrying about her and his quirk completely washed away the fact that she admitted to loving him. It seemed that would be the topic of discussion another day.

________________________________

“Come on, come on. It’s almost starting!” Y/N rushed up the stairs, tugging Shinsou by the hand up . He was tired. He didn’t really have the time or energy to watch this firework show she was so excited to see. Still, he did it for her since she’d been waiting for weeks for it.

No U.A. students were allowed to dress up in their formal wear and go to the shrines like everyone else on New Years, since big crowds could pose a danger to the students' safety. Instead, groups of students from different classes gathered up some snacks on the roofs of their own family houses to watch the fireworks at the shrine a mile or so away. She had a bag full of her favorite drink, fruit milk, on her arm, eager to binge and drink it all. She would probably make herself sick, but it's like that sometimes..

“Five minutes until midnight,” she muttered. She pushed open the attic window and slid through onto the roof, and was met with emptiness. Only a few small groups of friends were spaced out pretty far and few in between on their class building. She walked over to the side in the direction of the shrine, and sat down on the bench. Her milk plopped down onto the spot beside her.

Shinsou silently took a seat beside her. He checked his phone. Only a couple more minutes. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why she was so excited just for time to pass and some colored lights to go off in the distance. The noise was so loud though, he realized he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep that night anyway.

Happily, she popped the cap off a banana milk and took a long sip. He took one from the bag as well, strawberry, and popped the cap. “Why are you so excited for this anyway, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know. I just wanted to spend the holiday with you, and since we aren’t allowed back home for the holiday due to all those villain threats, I thought it would be a fun thing for the two of us to do together,” she told him. Honestly, she was just happy to spend more time with him. It felt so good, the cold air on her skin and the crickets chirping from the ground below. People around talked and laughed amongst their own groups.

It was the perfect moment.

Shinsou knew about this tradition some people had on New Years. He was sure it was probably an American thing since All Might and Midoriya were talking about it. Apparently, you are supposed to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight, and it grants you good luck for the rest of the year.

He wouldn’t even attempt it. That was a complete invasion of her space. He just wanted her to enjoy the fireworks and her milk without any drama. Things had gotten a bit weird between them over the time they’d known each other. They were close, almost too close to be friendly. Other people clearly noticed; Bakugo, Aizawa, that boy from their class. Neither of them knew what to do about those feelings, so they just pretended they weren’t there, he supposed. It was easier that way.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to kiss her. He definitely did 100 percent want that kiss. He just couldn’t take the risk. What if everyone was wrong this whole time? What if she only thought of him as a very close friend this whole time and he got the wrong idea. He didn’t know enough girls to know how they acted with their guy friends.

He knew he was hopelessly in love. It used to scare him, the thought of being so attached to someone like that. Now, he just felt happy to have someone to hold in his heart. It didn’t matter much if she ever accepted his love. As long as he could hold her and see her smile, that was enough.

Soon enough, dozens of rainbow colored fireworks lit up the sky. The sound was dulled by the distance between them and the shrine, but it was still loud enough to dull Shinsou’s thoughts. He leaned back on the roof on one hand and the other lifted the strawberry milk to his lips, taking a sip.

Another year flew by faster than he thought. It was no doubt the best year of his life so far.

He didn’t even notice her begin to speak until she said his name.

“Shinsou,” she exhaled. “I really wouldn’t mind spending every year with you.”

He looked over to her. Her face was illuminated in bright pinks and blues, and she had that ever present smile on her lips. How could one person look like that? All he ever wanted and more, the girl of his dreams?

“I think I’d like that, too.”

“Would you really?”

“If I got to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”

She took a deep breath, tilting her head back to stare up at the deep blue night sky above, only a couple shining stars to be seen. For a long time, she felt like it was inevitable that he would find out, and now seemed just as good as any.

“You know, Hitoshi, I think I’m in love with you.”

His lips curled up into a smile. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Y/N,” he confessed, “They say love at first sight isn’t real, but damn, it sure feels like it is.”

“God, why do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel like this,” she asked, placing her hand over her head and laughing. “Why are you so perfect?”

“I’m not. I’m perfect, but only for you.”

They sat beside each other in silence for a moment, taking in each other’s feelings. Her hand wormed over to rest on his, and he quickly intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. He could feel how warm her skin felt, and the smile on his face only grew. He would always remember this moment.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“Please.”

And so, he got that kiss he wanted all along. Along with many, many more to follow.

For the first time ever, he felt like he made the right choice. He’d finally done something worthwhile with his life. He met his Y/N.

Thank you for supporting me and have a lovely day.

#bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #mha #mha x reader #mha imagine #mha oneshot #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha oneshot #shinsou oneshot #shinsou imagine #x reader #shinsou x you #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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tuanhood · 5 years ago

Text

lambda

pairing: frat!mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, enemies to lovers (kinda), smut, fluff

warnings: 18+, language, cringey frat stuff, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), explicit sex.

word count: 11,400+

summary: your last choice was renting a room at a frat house over the summer, especially after you told yourself you were done with anything frat related, but when your ex ditches you last minute its your only option. now... if only you could stop dreaming about the president of lambda chi.

a/n: surprise again! mark won the poll!! but like I said i think i’m going to continue doing a frat one shot for each member. so it’ll be like a little anthology series!! but i have no clue when i will write the other once so please bare with me :) Also if there’s some frat stuff in here that doesn’t make sense just let me know in my ask or if you have any questions i’ll be happy to answer!

“Who do you know here?” you found yourself being asked before even fully stepping onto the property.

The douchey guy with his backwards baseball cap and muscle tee – sporting his letters of course – looked you up and down as if trying to place you.

“No one actually.”

He looked confused, “wait seriously? You’re just going to admit that right off the bat? Usually people try to make something up.”

“See I’m not here to play games… Kyle? I’m guessing your name is Kyle. I have the unfortunate pleasure of living here over the summer, because this was the cheapest and most last-minute housing I could find. Now I’m just going to go up to my room and mind my own business while you and your brothers throw this stupid party that better be over before midnight.”

“You could have just said you live here…” the boy mumbled mostly to himself, “well welcome home and congrats on moving in! I’m Bambam by the way.”

He thrusted his hand forward to you, almost forgetting about the mob of people behind you waiting to get in and see if they pass the “vibe” check to get past the front door. You were sure in any other circumstance you would not be passing the vibe check.

“Wow Bambam…” you said to yourself considering the name. He looked delighted as if you were so enthralled by the unique quality of it. You were however, thinking about how Bambam was even worse than “Kyle.”

“And you are?” he asked.

“Dude can you stop flirting and keep the line moving! I’m trying to get wasted before 11!” someone yells from deep in the line behind you.

“Hey! I’m the one who says how fast or slow this line moves! Fuck off man or you can go find your own kick back,” Kyl- Bambam yelled.

Snorting, you rolled your eyes, “you call this a kick back?” You gestured to the full house behind him, deciding to leave out those who were sitting on the roof.

“If the normal school year isn’t in session and the house isn’t over 50% occupied with members, then it’s a kick back. Chapter rules.”

“Would love to see that rulebook, if you have it handy,” you laughed, joking. Somehow, Bambam didn’t get it and cocked his head to the side absorbing your comment, “you really want to see the rules? I mean I could bring it to you later if you-”

“That’s fine Kyl-Bambam, I’m good. I’m just going to go inside now.”

“Bet, see you later.”

The way he said it makes you think that he means he’ll see you later at the party. That would however be completely wrong, because there was no way you were going to hang out with these disgusting egocentric heathens that just want to fuck and get drunk.

Fraternity housing hadn’t been you first choice for this summer. In fact, it probably hadn’t been your last choice either, but this is what you were stuck with. Staying at school over the summer had been a very last-minute choice – for reasons you weren’t ready to discuss – and by the time you were searching for housing, everything that was cheap and decent had been taken. Instead you were left with cheap and… chaotic.

“Whoa watch out!” You heard being yelled by some douche in a bucket hat as soon as you stepped into your new home.

It had been a week since you moved in, but you hadn’t made any effort to get to know any of the other people staying over the summer. Regardless of whether they were in the same predicament as you or if they were actually members of the org, you weren’t particularly interested in face to face time. After the Spring Quarter you had, you needed alone time and this summer you didn’t plan on making friends with your housemates… Especially if they were in a frat.

Your first week had actually, however, gone somewhat okay. No one had tried to interact with you – in fact you had barely seen anyone else in the house – and there had been no disturbing sounds or noises… It almost didn’t feel like you were living in a frat house, besides the urinals in the bathroom and the boxes of energy drinks that lined a few of the hallways. You were pleased to say the least, until you turned onto Greek row and heard all of the noise from the corner.

Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lambda. Please don’t be Lamb-

The silent prayer in your head clearly hadn’t been heard as you had grown closer and closer to the house you were staying in. Lo and behold you had been met with a very large line of people waiting to get in, loud music and trash all over the lawn. What had you been expecting by choosing to live in a frat?

The bucket hat guy’s warning didn’t faze you. As soon as you process his words you placed your hand up to smack the Styrofoam football he had thrown to the ground. You weren’t in the mood for an obstacle course, you just wanted to get to your room and put in earplugs so you could rest before work tomorrow morning.

“Whoa you got mad fast reflexes. Do you play?” he asked grabbing the object off of the sticky floor.

You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or not. But judging on the way he eyed you up and down, there were other things that were actually on his mind.

Side eyeing him, you snorted, “yeah… I’m not doing this,” you motioned your hand at him in circles and turned to head towards the main stairs. His words stopped you, “wow are we heading there already? Just give me a minute to tell my brothers I can’t watch drinks table anymore.”

Instinctively you cracked your knuckles, bucket hat guy found himself clearing his throat noticing the small detail that showcased your frustration. Turning around, it takes everything in you not to slap him, but more likely than not, this guy probably lived with you as well. Although you didn’t care for being friends with your housemates, it probably wouldn’t be a good look to be the housemate who slapped the people she shared a home with. So instead of a physical reaction, you simply clenched your jaw and went with the most basic response.

“I live here. I’m going to my room.”

Instead of showing any kind of shame or embarrassment for his very wrong estimate about where the situation was going, bucket hat clicks his tongue – almost in a disapproving way.

“Just watch out… we’re using the rooms on the second floor for hookup space. Or wait was it the third?”

As if you couldn’t have been more annoyed.

“What the fuck? How can you guys use the rooms up there when people are renting them out? How can you even use them when they’re locked?”

Bucket hat started to blink too much as if considering your very real query, “The President has a master key to all the rooms. What do you expect deciding to live in Greek housing for the summer?”

If you had known how much this frat didn’t care about personal space or just basic human rights, you would have never chosen to stay at Lambda Chi. In fact, you would have never chosen a fraternity at all – cheap price or not.

“Is it the second or third floor?”

“Don’t remember,” he hummed, no longer paying you any mind but twirling the football in his hand and eyeing a group of girls who had walked by.

Groaning, you snapped your fingers to regain his attention, “It makes a difference so remember.”

He shrugged and looked at you with an annoyed look on his face, “listen you’re kind of bringing my mood down… And I think I hear someone calling me from the kitchen so…” he pointed his thumb somewhere behind him, “I’m just gonna do that instead.”

Bucket hat guy leaves you standing in the main foyer, squished amongst other people, without another word. Although, you swear you heard him mutter something about you “not passing the vibe check.”

Left without a clue of what to do, you figured that the only viable option you had was to go find the President. Luckily bucket hat gave you one sliver of useful information.

Whipping around, you go to ask Bambam where exactly you could find the President, but he’s too enthralled in a conversation with one of the girl’s waiting in line to get in. It probably would do you more harm than good to get involved in that.

Searching around the space in the front of the house, you look for another brother who could perhaps help you with your task.

Right… Shouldn’t be too hard. Just look for someone who’s confident enough to think they’d be able to get out of a DUI.

A loud laugh caught your attention, it comes from a guy holding a Grey Goose bottle and letting random girls take pulls out of it.

Perfect.

You approached him, placing a gentle hand on his arm that holds the bottle to get his attention. He took notice of you immediately, giving you the same exact look bucket hat had given you earlier. What was up with these guys? They weren’t even trying to be subtle.

“You want a pull?” He asked with a smirk, shaking the bottle in his hand at you.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat, “I’m looking for the President… Where would I find him?”

Grey Goose bottle guy wiggled his eyebrows at you. Gross. “Ah I see… you want Mr. President. I think he’s in his room.” You wanted to be cordial, but these people just weren’t making it easy.

“What room is his again?” You asked, batting your eyelashes in the most normal way possible – as if that was normal for you.

Grey Goose placed his hand under his chin and tapped it as if deep in thought. He paused and smiled, “I’ll tell you if you take a pull.”

Where were you right now? In what dimension was this actually happening to you? If you told your friends back home about having to take a pull from a bottle of Grey Goose in order to find the President of a fraternity to get him to stop maybe letting people hook up in the room you’re paying for, they wouldn’t believe you. You didn’t believe it.

Sighing you brought your hand up, in a “give it to me” motion. Grey Goose smiled proudly and brings the bottle up, tipping it into your mouth once you have your head leaned back and lips parted. It felt like forever by the time he finally brings the bottle up from your mouth. The burning sensation in your throat makes you want to throw up, and for a moment you think you are, but somehow you manage to take a deep breath and control yourself.

“That was awesome! I think you took like a shot and a half.” I know, you wanted to yell at him, but you bit your tongue. Usually pull meant a swig, not 66 milliliters of vodka.

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, already feeling lightheaded, you repeated your earlier question, “what room is his?”

Grey Goose nodded, “he’s on the third floor. There’s a huge sign on the door that says President with the chapter’s crest, you can’t miss it.” If it truly was that easy, maybe you should have just gone looking yourself instead of being blackmailed into consuming alcohol the night before you had to work.

“Thanks,” you muttered to him, not bothering to wait and hear a response. You found yourself back at the main stairs, taking two steps at a time until you reached the third floor. It wasn’t long before you realized Grey Goose was right, his room wasn’t hard to miss.

Usually you were a rational thinker. You liked thinking out your thoughts before you turned them into actions, but in this case, you couldn’t stop yourself from knocking on the door as soon as you’re in front of it.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There’s no answer. Was it possible he wasn’t in his room anymore? You tried again.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time your ears catch noise behind the door. There was someone inside, but they were just choosing to ignore you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

This time the noise was clearer and you can make out specific words being said.

“Maybe they’ll just go away.”

Before you could stop your usual logical mind, you’re reaching for the doorknob – annoyed by this “President” who was trying to make you leave. To your surprise, the handle turns and you swung the door open slowly, being met with a mostly dark room aside from one bedside lamp being on.

“What the fuck?” The deep voice startled you as if you had been expecting no one to actually be on the other side of the door. What the hell were you doing?

Your eyes landed on the large bed in the middle of the room and you really wished you hadn’t. The two half naked figures on top of one another looked at you with wide eyes, the girl immediately grabbing the comforter to cover herself pushing the guy, causing him to fall off the bed.

“Are you for real right now?” the guy asked you from the floor, “get the fuck out!”

You felt frozen in your spot, your hand still on the door knob and unable to break your gaze from the boy on the floor. It was like you were a virgin again based on the way you were staring at his toned chest and muscular arms. You were certain if he hadn’t been sitting and crouched on the floor, you would be eyeing the black boxer briefs that rest on his hips.

“What’s wrong with you? I said get out!”

It’s almost as though his second demand for you to leave is what woke you up, suddenly mumbling a “sorry,” and shutting the door closed.

Opening the door to someone’s room without approval wasn’t something you typically did – you had simply done it as a reaction to the stressful situation you were in. Openly staring at a frat boy definitely wasn’t something you typically did either. It was like your brain had shut off and you weren’t going to let it happen again.

You continued standing in front of the door, unsure of what to do. Should you wait for him to… finish? Was that even the President? Maybe this was your sign that the third floor was the hook up floor. If so, then you were in the clear to go back to your room… so why didn’t your feet want to move?

“Mina come on! Don’t leave! We can keep going!” This time the voice behind the door is much louder and clear.

“You were dumb enough to leave it unlocked! I shouldn’t even be doing this anyways… my loyalty lies with Sigma Chi.”

“What? Just because they’re Phi Mu’s affiliate frat? That’s bullshit!”

“My sisters will kill me if they find out I was with a Lambda,” you heard her say, her voice becoming louder signaling she was approaching the door.

“I don’t understand why that has to stop us from fucking though!”

The door swung open and you find yourself taking a step back, looking away to pretend like you weren’t eavesdropping. The girl glanced at you and rolled her eyes before ignoring the boy behind and heading down the hallway to go downstairs.

While pretending to be fixated on the wall’s chipped paint, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see the guy in his doorway, clearly annoyed at the situation. He ran his hand through his hair out of frustration and you can’t ignore how fluffy it looked. You watched him run it through three times, before you make yourself look away.

“You,” he grumbled pointing at you, “Here. Now.” He quickly turned, going back into his room, leaving the door open for you to follow. You think that maybe you shouldn’t follow him, but judging on the way he looked back at you with an intimidating stare, it was probably the right choice.

You awkwardly stood next to his desk and watched him reach into his closet to grab a robe to throw over his naked torso, shielding his body from you. As he tied it and sat down on the bed, leaning forward, you’re able to see a sliver of his chest and collarbone where the robe hangs down. It confused you as to why he wouldn’t just put his regular clothes back on, but you found yourself not being annoyed in the slightest at the display of skin.

His eyes bore into you, and it’s almost as though he’s waiting for you to speak first – to say something to make up for your invasion of his privacy.

“Are you the President?”

He looked at you as if you were insane, “what the hell does it say on the door?”

All of the annoyance and frustration that had fueled your fire downstairs, making you a woman on a rampage had dissipated. For some reason standing in front of this guy, you felt like a small child being talked down to. In any other situation you would fight back and show him you weren’t going to take his tone, but for some reason you couldn’t find it in you.

“I was just making sure… okay?”

Mr. President cracked his knuckles, “Why the hell did you barge into my room?” You don’t answer him. You were trying to think of what you would normally say or do to a guy like this, but your mind went blank once again. “You just cost me a hook up tonight, so speak.” His tone is a mixture of aggravated and bored – if that was something that was even possible.

“I mean you’re the one who left the door unlocked…” you mumbled to yourself, but the anger on his face signals that he heard. He threw up his hands, “That still doesn’t give you the right to just walk into a room that’s not yours.”

That really got you. You felt the flame within you being lit once again. “Look who’s talking.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one who’s letting people’s rooms be used for sex without their permission. Invading their privacy!” you growled.

Mr. President blinked at you blankly and judging on his reaction, it almost seemed like he didn’t know what you were talking about. Oh… he’s good.

“Excuse me? What kind of place do you think this is? This isn’t an authoritarian regime.”

You took a step forward to where he sat on the bed, waving your finger, “then explain to me why one of your little minions downstairs told me that.”

“I have no clue who would tell you that… or why.”

“Bucket hat… football,” those are the only two words you can think of to describe him, but you hoped that would be enough. Almost instantly he nodded, “Ah Jaebeom… Yeah he was definitely just fucking with you.”

You took a step back out of shock. This was all a joke? These idiot Lambda Chi boys had been playing you? “So, I took a pull from Grey Goose guy’s bottle for nothing? I came up here for nothing? I walked in on you and Ms. Phi Mu for nothing?”

He ignored your comment about the girl’s sorority, a clear admission that you had been listening through the door, “Grey Goose? Do you mean Youngjae?”

The last fifteen minutes had filled you with enough inconveniences, stress, annoyance and embarrassment to feel like a lifetime… and this was only after one week of living in this house. How were you going to last the entire summer? Deal with all of the parties… the douchey boys objectifying you and treating everything like it was a funny joke. Not to mention their chapter’s President who seemed bitter and rude. Surprisingly attractive… but bitter and rude.

Instead of confirming Mr. President’s suspicions that Grey Goose guy was indeed this Youngjae person, you nodded solemnly towards the direction of his door, “I’m going to my room.”

“Wait… you’re living here over the summer?”

When he asked the question, you begin to feel the alcohol you had consumed earlier. Instead of feeling drunk it made you feel dizzy, tired and heavy. It made you feel even more defeated than you already felt from your sudden reality that this was your life for the next three months.

You threw up an unenthusiastic thumbs up and slowly made your way to the door. He looked at you stunned for your sudden disengagement in the conversation you were having. Although to you it didn’t feel like a conversation. Conversations were meant to be constructive, collaborative… Whatever this was, wasn’t that.

You’re in the doorway when he speaks again, “It’s Mark by the way… for when you dream about me later.”

Clenching your fists, you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back no matter how much you weirdly want to. To see his fluffy hair, bounce as he shakes his head from side to side, that golden tanned skin, his huge-

That’s enough.

That night it takes you nearly two hours to fall asleep. You spend the first hour with a pillow over your head, trying to drown out the party downstairs. The second however, is spent thinking about one… Mr. President. It makes you feel nauseated and when you finally wake up for work the next the morning, all you can remember is the fluffy hair in your dream.

Four days had passed since the party and you hadn’t run into any of the brothers since then. No Kyle, no bucket hat, no Grey Goose. Or Bambam, Jaebom and Youngjae… or whatever. And no Mark. Not that you had been thinking about seeing him again.

Those four days felt peaceful – normal almost, that was until now. Those calming four days came to an end when you came home from your afternoon shift at work, the guys all sitting on the front porch with beers in their hands.

You were quite aware of “porch” culture amongst the fraternities at your school. The members would drag ratty old indoor furniture such as loveseats and armchairs onto the porch near the front door and sit there for hours. They’d drink their beers, play their loud music and shout things at people walking by. Yes, you knew porch culture very well… It was how you had met your ex-boyfriend.

“Well look who we have here!” Jaebeom – sans bucket hat – shouted as you began walking up the path to the porch, “haven’t seen you since the party sweetheart.”

“Shut up man you can’t say that stuff anymore. Feminism and all that,” Bambam said hitting Jaebeom’s shoulder. If you were held at gunpoint and forced to pick a favorite out of them – it would probably be Bambam. He had done the least to annoy you thus far, but you weren’t holding your breath.

“I’m going inside,” you hoped your emotionless tone is enough to get them to leave you be and just get into the house. You’d rather not spend any more time than you have to with the guys – especially during porch time.

“Heard you got history on the row Y/n,” Youngjae’s words made you stop in your tracks. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially with them. You gave Youngjae a death glare, trying to communicate with him to keep his Grey Goose filled mouth shut.

The way Mark looked up at you behind his IPA doesn’t go unnoticed by you. In his mind he was trying to be discrete. He tried to present a look that was a mixture of intrigue but also indifference, even though in reality he was eager to hear his friend’s story about you.

“Some Sigma Chi history to be more specific,” Youngjae wiggled his eyebrows and you have to stop yourself from slapping the smile off of his face.

If there was anything you truly knew about frat guys, it was that every action they did or thing they said was all meant to get a reaction out whatever person they’re torturing. Acting like you didn’t care was going to bring the stakes down for Youngjae and he would ditch the story altogether. Clearing your throat, you shrugged your shoulders, “yeah so what. It’s history and history is in the past so… that’s all that needs to be said.”

He looked at you with the same stupid smile and it doesn’t falter at all. You must have shown too big of a reaction in your response.

“You dated Ryan for almost a year – I’d say that’s a record for someone at Sigma Chi,” him and the boys laughed – all of them except Mark who’s still looking at you, but pretending not to.

You tell yourself not to get upset, not to get angry or cry – because that’s what they wanted from you. Here they were treating the “relationship” you were in like a joke and you had to remain a stone wall, unaffected. Well fuck that.

“Yeah it was a record for me falling for the stupid and douchery of the typical frat guy who was actually fucking other girls the entire time unbeknownst to me because in actuality he never considered us together. But hey what can you do when you’re dealing with guys who have big egos and small dicks?”

The boys stared at you with blank faces, you swear you see Mark smile behind his bottle.

“Is she talking about us too?” Jaebeom whispered to Bambam, “Dude… I think maybe.” Without another word, you pushed open the front door aggressively, making sure it closes behind you loudly.

You don’t know why you thought your “relationship” with your ex-boyfriend was going to work out. The two of you had met because you had been passing by his house during porch time and he cat called you. What the fuck were you thinking? Even at that point you had thought guys in fraternities were terrible, but for some reason that day you just went along with one of them objectifying you… And you fucking made him into your “boyfriend.” That day you had been feeling insecure and low – that was the only explanation you had for your out of character actions.

Being with Ryan only continued your influx of out of character actions. You spent all you free time with him when you weren’t in school or working. Apparently however, all of his free time hadn’t been spent with you. The truth came out after you had planned on staying with him over the summer at his family’s lake house. It had been something you two had talked about for months and when you were only a month away, he had hit you with a bomb.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this live together thing over the summer. Samantha might get mad.”

To which you had asked, “who’s Samantha?” Then the guy who you had thought was your boyfriend went on to explain how the other girl he was seeing – Samantha – would get jealous if he brought you to the lake house instead of her. The next thing to come out of your mouth was a big “fuck you” and “I never want to see you again.” Hence why your decision to stay at school over the summer was so last minute and you were forced to stay in a fraternity house which was so much like the one your heart had been broken in only a month earlier.

You should have known Ryan wasn’t serious about you – no frat guy at your school would ever be serious with an unaffiliated girl like you. The sex should have told you how serious he was. It would always be the fast, rough kind of fucking where he mostly had you in doggy position or with your mouth around his dick. There was none of the lazy, slow passionate sex that came when you were actually serious or mesmerized by someone.

“What the hell is up with Sigma Chi getting all the hot girls?” you heard Jaebeom ask from the porch. The idiots had left the front window open so anyone could hear what they were talking about – but there weren’t really any boundaries when it came to brotherhood. Instead of leaving and going upstairs, you remained frozen in your spot with an ear positioned to the window. For some reason it seemed like living in this house was turning you into an eavesdropper.

“Guys don’t talk about her like that.” The chiming in from Mark surprised you, he had been so silent outside when you had been present that you didn’t really expect him to defend you.

“Oh really, why?”

“She’s not just a hot girl…” Mark paused for dramatic effect and you can practically hear all the guys on the edge of their seats, “she’s a super-hot girl.” You rolled your eyes as he finished his thought about you, the guys all giving him high fives and verbal agreement.

“So, what do you say Mr. President? Gonna try to hit that?”

Mark didn’t answer the second question, “Mr. President?”

Bambam laughed, “Oh yeah I overheard her on the phone the other night and that’s what she called you.” Okay maybe Bambam was no longer your favorite, “Mr. President and his fluffy hair.” You aren’t sure if you should be embarrassed because of him exposing you or offended because of the voice he uses to mimic your own. You did not sound like that.

Once again, all the guys laugh, but this time you can’t hear Mark’s own stand out giggling in the mix. For some reason you wished you could see his face right now. That’s when you decide it’s probably best to go upstairs.

“Take it, take it all,” Mark growled into your ear as he thrusted into you at a brutal pace. You couldn’t respond to him; your mind was too hazed over with pleasure.

“Wow my cock’s that good that you forgot how to speak? I know you think you’re smarter than me, but it looks like you’re wrong. All it takes is for me to be inside of you for one fucking minute for you to act like you don’t even know your own name.”

He’s right. He’s so right and all you can do is agree with him.

He brings his hand down between the two of you to rest on your clit, tapping his finger at the same pace he pumps into you at. “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying, but how about now, hmm? Don’t you think I’m good at fucking this tight pussy?”

You awake with a gasp. You’re covered in sweat and your hand has somehow found its way underneath your shorts and underwear. Why the fuck were you having a sex dream about Mark? It felt like your entire body was on fire, even your fan being on the high setting wasn’t going to help you in cooling down.

Getting out of bed, you decided to head downstairs to the kitchen. What you needed was a popsicle and a bag of ice. The ice was to help how hot you felt, the popsicle was a distraction from thinking about whatever the fuck your subconscious had just come up with.

“Hello?” The voice coming out of nowhere causes you to jump as you swing one of the freezers in the large kitchen open. You attempted to squint your eyes in the darkness to make out who the voice belongs too, but it’s too difficult to see.

“If you keep your eyes like that, you’re going to ruin your vision,” the lowness of the voice takes you back to only moments ago in your room when you had been hot and absolutely bothered. It was the same voice from your dream.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked, moving your head around the space, still unable to properly see him.

Suddenly, Mark’s face comes into view as he stepped closer to you so he could be seen in the light of the freezer, he’s so close, you hold your breath, “what? No hello?”

You scoffed, “I usually don’t when people are just down here sitting in the dark.” Mark doesn’t respond to your comment about him lurking and positioned his glance to where your hand was placed in the freezer, “feeling hot?” Your eyes went wide, “w-what?”

He pointed to you hand resting on the box of popsicles, “the popsicles…” Laughing awkwardly you pulled one out from the package and go to reach for an ice pack, “oh… yeah.”

Mark nodded his head, “it’s pretty hot tonight… That’s why I came down here. You know heat rises and all that stuff… I’m on the third floor so…” he drifted off and his tone sounds off, unlike when you had first met him. He almost sounded nervous?

“Listen… I want to apologize for the guys on the porch the other day. They brought up all that stuff about you and your Sigma Chi dude… and it wasn’t cool.” You don’t think about the fact that he called you super-hot and laughed with all the guys, but instead you focus on how surprisingly genuine Mark sounded.

“I’m sorry too about coming into your room and ruining your night.”

“Nah you didn’t ruin my life,” there’s a weird pause and it makes you look away from him, but he’s quick to continue, “I mean that girl was just some stupid Phi Mu bimbo.” Without thinking about it, you hit his arm and he flinched at the pain, “ow!”

“You can’t call a woman stupid or a bimbo just because she wouldn’t sleep with you!” He placed his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry! I’m still learning.”

Mark reached behind you into the freezer and grabbed a popsicle himself. When his arm brushes your shoulder and he gets close enough that you can feel his breath on your face you feel the same pulsing in your core from your dream.

“You should probably eat that… It��ll melt,” he motioned to the popsicle in your hand once he’s back in his original spot, “and close the freezer.”

“Right…” you nodded. It felt like you suddenly lost all intellect when you were around this guy, what was happening to you? It had happened with Ryan… but not on this scale at all.

Shutting the freezer, you’re both met with the darkness of the kitchen. This time you’re able to focus in on Mark’s face despite it being pitch black, both of you opening the wrappers of your icy dessert.

“Besides…” Mark began, going back to the previous topic, “from what I’ve learned… sorority girls are trouble. Not really what I’m looking for. I’d much rather be with someone unaffiliated.” His words caused you to choke on your popsicle, coughing until you feel like there’s no breath in you. Mark’s thankful for the darkness, otherwise you’d see his smile at you being so caught off guard.

“Are you okay?” He asked patting your back, just as you’re at the end of your coughing fit.

You nodded your head, but then realize he probably couldn’t see your gesture at being fine, “yeah I’m okay… just… went down the wrong pipe, ya know?”

“Oh, I know.” The way he said it almost suggests something, but you try not to think about it. Otherwise your panties were going to get more damp than they already were from earlier.

Mark takes a deep breath in and sighs after a moment, “I know you think I’m a dumb frat boy who’s only good at drinking and partying-” he began, but you cut him off immediately when you recognize his choice of words.

No fucking way.

They were the words from your dream. You felt your heart beat out of your chest and you became worried. You really didn’t want to hear what he was going to say next.

“I’m going to bed!”

“What?” Mark feels confused at your sudden announcement and the way you quickly rush out of the kitchen, the sound of your feet running up the stairs the only reply to his question.

You were strange… that was for sure. But he kinda liked it.

Smiling to himself, Mark finished up his popsicle in the darkness and headed upstairs to go to sleep.

“Mark fuck… please fuck me.”

“Oh, is that all you want from me? Is that all I’m good for?”

You aren’t sure what to say, what you need to do to convince him. “N-no.”

“Then tell me… what do you want from me... Really?”

The quick racing of your heart awoke you from your dream. Fuck… not another one.

Should you go see a therapist? Why was this happening to you? It was the third night in a row you had woken up to a Mark Tuan sex dream. This one however, felt different. Unlike the two before it where he was rough with you – this one it seemed like dream you wanted more. Of course, dream you wanted to still be fucked senseless by him – aka the frat boy way – but she was also holding back. She wanted more. She wanted something else. But what?

Climbing out of your bed, you trail down the hallway to the bathroom.

During normal term time all of the bathrooms were for the guys living in the house, but luckily for you they made a few of the bathrooms in the house “ladies only” for the few girls living in the house over the summer. You pushed the door of the bathroom open, being met with the now familiar poorly drawn and weirdly sexual woman stick figure picture taped over original sign.

Expecting to see an empty bedroom, you felt your jaw drop to the floor at Mark’s naked figure in the shower. He hadn’t even bothered closing the curtain.

You felt like you couldn’t move, you felt like you couldn’t think. With his eyes closed under the stream of water, your eyes trailed down his muscular shoulders to his toned abdomen, slowly going down to his length. The same one you had been dreaming about for the last three nights and your fantasies certainly didn’t do it justice.

Before you could truly comprehend the creepiness level of what you were doing, you heard Mark yelp in shock.

“What are you doing!” he yelled, grabbing the curtain from the side and moving it over the lower half of his body.

Your mouth went dry, “I-I-” You attempted to say something, but you felt your eyes watch the droplets of water that cascade down his skin.

“Y/n!” His words snapped you back into motion and you look up at him. It was difficult to say whether the redness on his cheeks were coming from the heat of the water or from his embarrassment of the situation. Mark himself wasn’t sure.

“I- this is the girl’s bathroom. Why are you in here?”

“This bathroom has the best water pressure in the house… I thought since it was so late no one would come in,” he stuttered.

Even though you’re supposed to be having a conversation with him, you find yourself still thinking about how he looked when you first walked in. How long and thick his cock was.

Still recovering from your dream and the peep show you had just been exposed to, you find yourself moving closer to the shower, “you didn’t even close the curtain… It’s almost like you wanted someone to come in here and find you.” He doesn’t say anything, but you make no mistake of noticing the way he grips the curtain harder against his body and the way his breathing gets heavier.

“Did you want someone to find you?” You’re so close to him now that you can feel the steam from the shower opening your pores.

Mark licked his lips, “maybe I wanted you to come find me.”

“Maybe or you did?”

“You know… you do kind of owe me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. What was he talking about? Weren’t you guys being all sexy? Weren’t you about to do something?

At your nonresponse he smirked and dropped the curtain, revealing all of himself to you once again, “you cockblocked me, so now it’s time for you to make up for it.”

Just like that with your core beginning to throb almost painfully at how much it wants to be touched, you’re set into motion. You join him in the shower, not even caring about getting your pajamas wet. It’s almost as if no logic matters in this moment to you, instead it’s all about you and Mark and your desires for one another.

He pulled you into a heated kiss, pulling you flush against his soaking wet body. You feel his length pressed up against you and you moaned instinctively at the feeling. Your hands roam up and down his body, feeling those muscles you had been obsessing over since your first encounter, stopping when your hand reaches his hardened member.

Instantly Mark groaned out at the feeling of your hand slowly stroking him. He had already felt sensitive and worked up as he had already been thinking about having you under him before you had entered the bathroom.

Mark’s noises send you into another moment of not caring about reality as you kneeled down before him. In any other situation you would be disgusted at the fact that you were willingly on your knees on the floor of a frat’s shower, but this wasn’t any other situation.

You plunge yourself onto him, mouth wide and your tongue lapping at his head. The sudden and almost vicious sucking nearly caused Mark to lose his balance and slip. You pay no mind to the water cascading down your back and beginning to weigh down your hair as you feel yourself be spurred on by the grunts and moans leaving Mark’s mouth.

As you moved more him into your mouth getting a mixture of pre-cum and water dripping from the corners of your lips, you felt Mark buck his hips into you further. The sudden fullness in your mouth until his head was at the back of your throat made you choke around him, Mark bringing his hand to the top of your head to stroke your hair.

“I know how good you are at choking. I know how much you love it, keep fucking going.”

The vibrations from you moaning at his words caused Mark to throw his head back, “show me how much you want my cum. Moan for me, show me.”

Bobbing your head up and down his length, you make no mistake as you continue your noises around him – not for his benefit, but you genuinely felt turned on at just giving him head.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” before he finished his thought, you felt his warm release in your mouth and you make sure to swallow it instantly.

The sounds of the shower running and Mark’s heavy breathing, coming down from his climax fill the bathroom. It feels like you could just stay here on your knees forever listening to the sounds and you would be fine.

Once Mark catches his breath, he leant down to grab your hand and lifted you up off the wet – and probably filthy – ground. He pulls you into his arms and placed a kiss on your forehead, “damn what the hell am I going to do with you?”

It’s like his words mean more than what he’s going to do with you in the bedroom and somehow that is the thing that finally snapped you into reality. It’s not seeing him naked; it’s not kissing him; it’s not getting down on your knees and suck him dry and it certainly isn’t swallowing his cum. What the hell am I going to do with you?

What the hell was he going to do with you? And what the hell were you going to do with him? The two of you didn’t make sense and you had to remind yourself that you were in a frat house… doing things of a sexual nature with a frat bro. You were not going to find yourself trapped like you were with Ryan. You had sworn off the kind of guy Mark is. You needed to leave it here… no matter how wet and turned on you were right now.

You took a step back, away from Mark and out of his arms, “I- um I should get dry.”

Mark took a step forward and you took another back. He cocked his head to the side, “well… let me help you.” His seductive gaze doesn’t go unnoticed to you, but you have to think with your head for a second. You had already gone against your own “no more frat boys, they can’t commit” beliefs once, you couldn’t do it a second time. You had to quit while you were ahead.

“I’m going to head to bed,” you stepped down from the shower and onto the bathroom tile. Mark lost for words at your sudden distance, “what? Why? Let me take care of you… You haven’t-” Waving your hands, you cut him off not wanting to hear it, “Mark… Don’t. Let’s just leave this at this. Me blowing you because I owed you one…” when it comes out of your mouth, you realize just how ridiculous it all sounded.

Mark took a step toward you, also coming out of the shower and reached to grab his towel, wrapping it around his waist. “Leave it at this? Y/n… I don’t think you understand, I-”

“Mark, I know the kind of guy you are. It’s who your friends are, it’s who all the guys living in this house are, it’s who my fucking ex-boyfriend was. I really can’t do another guy who’s just going to fuck me like I’m an object and be under his charming douchey spell, thinking that he’s all mine. I already did it once and if I did it twice, I think it would kill me. I’m sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick and making you think that we were going to fuck… and as much as my body wants to, I know it would be smart for me.”

Despite the seriousness of your words and confession, Mark found himself chuckling at the end of your monologue. He’s laughing at your word choice of “sorry if I led you on or whatever by sucking your dick,” but you don’t think about it that way. You think he’s laughing at all of it.

Typical frat guy, you think.

When he noticed the way, your mouth turned into a frown, he feels his heart leap out of his chest. He didn’t want to see you upset… ever. If he could just take some time to talk out how he was feeling to you, then maybe you’d understand how he was – “Goodnight Mark. I’d ask you not to tell you friends about this, but I know you will.”

And just like that you’re gone.

Two weeks and there had been no words exchanged between you and Mark. He had tried countless times to get your attention and talk to you, but you acted as if he didn’t exist. It didn’t go unnoticed by the other people in the house. Bambam prided himself on picking up on sexual tension and when he saw the way you and Mark acted around each other on that day on the porch, he felt it. Sure, the two of you hadn’t said anything, but Bambam could feel the pull between the two of you.

Although previously you didn’t talk to Mark that often in general, Bambam could sense something had happened – something wasn’t right between the two of you. It made him upset to see his brother so down, so… emotional.

“Guys… We have to do something about this Mark and Y/n situation,” Bambam said as he watched Jaebeom and Youngjae practice their beer pong aim in the backyard.

Youngjae looked at him confused, “what do you mean Mark and Y/n situation? There’s something going on there?”

Bambam felt like he wanted to hit him. How Youngjae could be so clueless? He wasn’t sure. “Do you not understand basic human emotions?” The older boy blinked at him mindlessly, before going back to throw the ball at the cups on the other side of the table.

“So anyways… I was thinking we could-”

“That was two! That was two! It totally hit the side of the other cup before it went in!” Youngjae yelled, interrupting Bambam’s big idea.

“Are you kidding? No way. Just take the one or I won’t even give you that,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes, he had enough of Youngjae’s cheating.

“What do you mean you won’t even give me that one? It went in!”

“Guys!” Bambam yelled, interrupting their bickering over the trivial game. They both looked at him with wide eyes, “Can you listen to me? I have a plan.”

Yawning, you decided it was probably time to head in for the night. It had been another long week of trying not to think about Mark.

You barely knew anything about the guy… but for some reason you had this weird pull to him. Deep inside your stomach you had this feeling telling you that this was the guy for you, he could be the one. You pushed it all down, your mind was just playing tricks on you – you were delusional thinking he could be the one.

Heading down the hallway to the bathroom – yes, the same bathroom – to brush your teeth you spot Youngjae coming down the corner. You tried your best to avoid his gaze, it was better safe than sorry to just proceed by ignoring Mark’s friends too.

Out of the corner of your eye as you pass one another, you notice the strange way he stares at you. It’s almost in a diabolical way… but that wouldn’t make sense, right?

Weird.

You’re probably on your sixth yawn when you finally head back to your room, reaching the door and going to turn the handle. Except… the handle won’t turn and your door won’t open.

No, this can’t be happening right now…

Trying again a few more times, you realize it had somehow locked on you. And you… like the idiot you are, left the key inside when you went to the bathroom. Was God playing some kind of sick joke on you? How were you supposed to go to sleep tonight?

That’s when it dawned on you that there was only one option.

The President has a master key to all the rooms

Jaebeom’s words flashed in your head over and over again. You tried to think of something else that could get you back in your room and under your warm covers tonight, but you come up short. You had to go up to Mark’s room.

Slowly going up the stairs to the third floor, you find yourself on the borderline of passing out at how completely nauseous and lightheaded you feel. The only way you could truly make this out alive was if you just pretended to be confident.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door swung open immediately after the third knock, Mark looking surprised to see you at his door.

He felt his hands grow clammy, “Uh… What’s up?”

“I-I locked myself out of my room… And I heard the President as the master key so… here I am.” Mark felt his heart fall at the reason for your visit. Some stupid part of him had thought that maybe you were here for him and not a key to your room, “yeah… just give me a minute.”

Mark stepped inside and you reluctantly follow him, letting the door shut behind you with a bang. Both of you jump at the noise and softly laugh when you notice.

“I get scared easily,” you mumbled.

Mark snorted, “I can tell.”

Crossing your arms, you moved towards him, “What’s that supposed to me?”

“What do you think? That you’re too scared to explore anything you have with someone, because you got hurt once. Tough, Y/n but getting hurt and let down is a part of life,” he looked at you once as he fumbled through his drawer, looking for the key.

“It’s not just that I’ve been hurt. You’re a-” He cut you off, rolling his eyes done with your overdone argument, “I’m a frat guy, I get it. We’re all the same, blah blah blah. Save it for your dissertation on how I’m scum for your Psych class or whatever.”

“I don’t think you’re scum,” you said softly.

Mark shut the drawer, unable to locate the key in this part of his desk and turned to you, “then why do you hate me so much?”

You shuffled in place, unsure of what do with all of these pent-up feelings that not even you were sure how to describe – and you were the one feeling them. “I don’t hate you. In fact, that’s the problem… I like you so much, I’m so attracted to you and I barely know you! I’ve had so many dreams about you that it’s made it all even worse.”

Before you could stop him, you felt Mark’s lips on yours and you find yourself being suffocated again – sidetracked from your original intentions of forgetting him. However, the way his mouth moved against yours and the way his tongue slipped past the crease of your lips made you not care. But of course, he was a good kisser, he probably did this all the time to all the girls.

You felt his fingers grip the hem of your top. He bunched the material just below your breasts as his hands splayed across your ribcage. He allowed you to pull away, your chest heaving and your eyes closed, before he tugged the material of your top up and over your head. The two of you looked at each other, as if absorbing what the two of you were doing.

When he dropped the fabric onto the floor, he moved his mouth to your neck. He can’t help himself as he marked your collarbones with his teeth, every inch of you is practically covered with marks when he’s done. While your mind is caught up in the feeling of his lips on your neck, his hands moved to cup your breasts.

He made you feel so damn good, you didn’t care anymore.

“Mark,” you breathed as you shifted your head to give him better access, “d-do whatever you want. Fuck me however you want. Just do something.”

You could feel the vibrations of Mark’s laughter against your neck as he reached around your back to unsnap your bra before he pulled away to watch the material fall to the floor. His eyes glued to your chest for a moment, his pupils darkening with lust, before he returned his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

Your hands dipped beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. You allowed your hands a moment to roam, before you break the kiss and tugged the material of his shirt up and over his head. Once again you feel hypnotized by his chest, just as you had been the first night you met him. You wanted to trace your finger over every muscle, every vain and every inch of skin. Mark helped you out of your pajama pants and returned his lips to your neck.

“As much as I would love to do fuck you until you feel me in every single part of your body, I want to take my time. To show you just how beautiful you are, just how much I want you.”

In your sex induced brain you have a moment of clarity to consider his words. Take his time? Weren’t frat boys supposed to be rushed, quick and just be rough with you? You had not a doubt in your mind that Mark would be able to deliver on that, based on how he had first acted around you… but slow? Sensual? Was he even capable of that? You weren’t expecting him to be so… soft and delicate. It wasn’t a part of his brand.

This time when Mark brings his lips back to you, they’re much softer – he kissed you at an unhurried pace as if he had all the time in the world with you. He gently nudged you to lay on your back, your fingers going to tangle themselves in his fluffy hair. He brings his fingers to curl at the waistband of your panties, “is this okay?” he breathed against your lips. You feel yourself begin to grow more wet at his ask for consent.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your hands tugging at his hair, “more than okay.”

With your permission, Mark slipped his hand into your panties. Brushing your folds lazily, his fingers gentle and unhurried as he allowed you to pull away and catch your breath. When he brushes your clit and felt yourself jolt in surprise beneath him. He attached his lips to your neck and began pressing kisses along the column of your throat.

No words are spoken as you moved one hand from his hair and gently squeezed his hardening cock over his sweats. Mark moaned against your skin and moved his fingers a little quicker but not changing his lazy pace as he worked to rile you up. It doesn’t take long as he slipped a finger into your heat and hears you release a content sigh at the feeling.

“You’re so gorgeous usually,” he whispered against the column of your throat as one of his hands go up to pay attention to your breasts, kneading them gently. “But, fuck, you’re even better naked.”

At that you laughed, “You’re not so bad yourself Mr. President, you know for a frat guy and all.” He smiled at you, capturing your lips in another kiss, nudging his sweatpants and briefs down.

The continual strokes of his fingers, working you open along with his hand on your breast makes you feel dizzy. You attempt to focus your attention elsewhere, pressing kisses to his heated skin as he rubbed your clit with his thumb.

You could feel Mark shifting above you, reaching for the stash of condoms next to his bed, before he ripped open the foil packet and pulled away to roll the latex onto his length. His slowness practically drove you to insanity, you just wanted him inside of you now.

“Mark please, I want it.”

Smiling at you, he leaned forward to press a kiss on your forehead, “princess you’re going to get it all.”

Mark returned his lips to yours as he sank into you. His pace is slow, lazy and soft, as he began fucking into you. You had always thought that slow and sensual sex was the best kind of sex, but maybe you were wrong. With Mark it felt like your whole body was on fire – it was pure torture. The way he jutted his hips into you at a rhythm had your core aching for more. It was like all of your senses were heightened, everything felt so much more pleasureful with the way your body was hanging on every thrust.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck and groaned as he felt you tug at his hair again. You felt like you were going to go insane and you needed something to grab onto. For you, Mark was willing to do or be whatever you wanted – something he had never remotely thought of doing for anyone ever, including the guys in the fraternity. He was ready to be at your beck and call, to take you like this – making you feel every single stroke, every single time pump into you.

Mark brings his hand between the two of you back to your core and circled your clit once again, allowing you to fall over the edge. “I know you’re going to look so pretty when you cum, please cum for me. I’ve been thinking about it since that night in the shower.”

His mention of the shower brings you back to thinking about how good it felt to have him in your mouth, how good he tasted when he came on your tongue, how much you’d like to be on your knees for him again. These final thoughts have you clenching around Mark, his groaning getting more consistent telling you that he’s close. He nipped at your skin and sucked the spot under your jaw at the same time he thrusted himself at a semi-faster pace, hitting your g-spot. That finally makes every part of your body go numb, and you feel your hips buck forward involuntarily, everything in you spasming.

As he watched your strong release and felt your walls throb around him, Mark began falling over the edge himself. You felt his hips stutter, his breathing shallow, and his hand clenched your hip firmly as he spilled into the condom and you found yourself wanting the moment to last forever as he remained on top of you. You feel him everywhere, warm and solid and entirely him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, another lazy peck, before he pulled away to tie the condom, tossing it somewhere on the ground of his messy room.

“Are you really just going to throw that on the ground?” you laughed. Mark shrugged, “what if you forget about it later?”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around your naked body and brings you as close to him as he can, “nah there’s no way I would forget this.”

Two Months Later

It was hard to believe that summer was finally ending and the new school year was right around the corner. No longer would be stuck in what you once considered was your own personal Hell – the Lambda Chi Alpha house.

The personal Hell had somehow shaped itself into one of the biggest blessings of your life. It had given you Mark Tuan.

“Finally, you’re home!” Mark smiled, patting the open spot next to him on the love seat at your return from work.

As soon as you plopped down, Mark pulled you close to him, resting one arm around your shoulder and the other on your thigh, “want the aux cord?” he mumbled into your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his head against it.

“No! She always gets aux cord when she’s porchin’ it up with us! It’s not fair! She plays that weird K-pop stuff and makes us the laughing stock of the whole street!” Jaebeom whined.

You laughed, “Don’t knock it until you try it!”

“I have tried it and I hate it,” Jaebeom quipped back, crossing his arms to show his firm disagreement on the matter.

“Fine let’s do One Direction this time.”

“Like that’s any better!”

“Can you guys shut up I’m trying to think of something to say to that girl,” Youngjae grumbled in annoyance at your bickering with Jaebeom.

You looked to see a girl walking by the house. Judging on her large backpack, casual clothes and tired face she had been at the library. You doubt she would be up for any unwarranted cat calling. “Don’t say anything!”

Youngjae looked at you confused, “what… I’m trying to shoot my shot.”

“As a girl, please trust me when I say don’t.” Youngjae pursed his lips in thought, “not even if I just tell her she has a nice smile?” You look at the girl frowning, “she’s not smiling and no not even that.”

“Get a load of this guy,” Bambam said as a guy in Phi Kappa Tau letters walks by – most likely to his house. Judging on all of the times you’ve spent on the porch with the boys now, you knew what was coming. Standing up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “PHI KAPPA TAU SUCKS.” The guy turned to the porch, eyeing Bambam and flipped him off.

Sitting down, Bambam shakes his head, “it’s because he knows it’s true.”

“Will you ever listen to me and realize that it’s stupid to shout at another frat?” you asked.

Bambam shook his head firmly, “you can’t just get rid of tradition Y/n.”

Mark firmly nuzzled his head into your shoulder again, kissing the side of your neck, “pay attention to me.” A clingy boyfriend might be annoying to some people and at one point in time you also thought that way, but with Mark you couldn’t get enough of it. The way that he was so dominant and attentive in the bedroom, but then so needy and clingy when it came to being in public. Especially when you were with the other guys.

“Anything for my number one frat star,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.

“You know I hate it when you call me that!” Mark whined, “you pay more attention to the guys then you do to me.” As he pouted you leaned in to give him a peck, but instead he brings the hand resting on your thigh up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. Youngjae, Jaebeom and Bambam all groan.

“Y/n?” Your name being called breaks you out your bubble with Mark. The bubble that made you feel like you two were the only people in the world that existed. Pulling apart from his lips, you both turned to see who the culprit is that ruined your moment.

“What the hell are you doing at Lambda?” Ryan asked. It doesn’t hurt to see him again; it was just annoying.

“Back from your lake house I take it Sigma Chi?” Mark asked. You had told Mark everything about what went down with you and Ryan – and if looks could kill… Ryan would already be in his grave.

“I’m not talking to you,” Ryan rolled his eyes, “what the hell are you doing at Lambda?” He asked again.

Without thinking about it, you find yourself standing up and cupping your hands around your mouth just as Bambam had done earlier, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Ryan couldn’t believe his eyes, he stood there blankly on the sidewalk in front of the house, “what? Very funny Y/n… I know you don’t mean-”

You do it again, “SIGMA CHI SUCKS!” The boys on the porch with you begin to laugh.

Ryan pointed a finger towards you, waving it in the air, “now just wait a minute-”

“SIGMA CHI SUCKS!”

Your ex-boyfriend clenched his jaw, “You weren’t even a good fuck anyways!” The words should hurt you, but they don’t because you know it’s not true.

“Uh… Yeah she fucking is,” Mark retorted, standing up next to you, “why don’t you go home Sigma Chi?” And just like that, you and the guys on the porch have your second middle finger of the day – this time from your ex-boyfriend.

As he walked off in the direction of the Sigma Chi house you all laughed at how blatantly offended, he was at just the fact that you had said his frat sucked. It was middle school taunting, but of course it would work on someone like Ryan. Ryan was a special breed of asshole and it makes you feel stupid to think that you had once grouped Mark with him. All of the Lambda boys.

Mark kisses your shoulder, “what are you thinking about?” His smile melted you – it always does. He was one you had been waiting for and somehow your body and subconscious knew it before you did.

“Just how happy I am to have you by my side Mr. President.”

“I’m happy to have you by my side too,” Mark hummed, but soon he pauses, “unless it’s during beer pong… because you really suck.”

“Mark!”

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan #got7 #mark tuan smut #got7 drabble #got7 one shot #got7 fic #got7 blurb

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ffastoriesforfatties · 5 years ago

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Fat people

“Ugh I don’t know why obese people can’t lose the weight, they’re just lazy you know!” Sam stood in her kitchen facing her boyfriend who was slowly picking at his salad resting on her island counter.

“I dunno Sam....” he had heard her rants on this so many times he barely registered them anymore “why don’t you get really fat and the loose it, to, to stick it to them” he threw out jokingly.

“Hey... that’s not a half bad idea” Sam stood there considering the idea, “Then no one could argue that it’s do-able,...” Dylan looked up in surprise, was she actually gonna do that???

“Wait Sam you can’t be serious, I was joking.”

“No no you’re right, it won’t even take too long, if I drop all my exercise regimes and quadruple my caloric intake the pounds will come on like nothing, and then I’ll lose it all, in the course of a year!”

“That’s actually crazy, you’re not gonna do that” Dylan stared at her in disbelief

“No I will, I’m tired of fat-asses acting like they can’t loose weight! I’ll just prove how easy it is when you’re actually trying”

~the next day~

“Whoa whatcha doing in here” Dylan walked into the bathroom to find Sam scribbling numbers into a notebook

“Oh hey, I’m just recording my starting weight and measurements- 28-24-30 and 126.4lbs !” Sam looked up from her pad and smiled at Dylan

“So you’re uh, really doing this?” Dylan asked somewhat confused

“Of course I am, I’ll just put on a lot of weight and then lose it, you’ll have your skinny girlfriend back in no time” Sam chuckled

~2 weeks later~

Dylan walked into the living room hearing Sam beckoning him

“Dylan honey can you please get me some more food?” She paused for a moment “like the pack of Oreos on the counter and maybe one or 2 of the donuts? Sorry, ummm let’s go with 3.”

Since Sam started this journey their apartment had been stuffed with the crappiest food that old Sam would’ve never laid a finger on. Dylan obliged and grabbed the Oreos and donuts and started to bring them over to Sam, when he saw her his jaw almost dropped, she was looking bigger than he had seen in-ever actually, she was certainly not fat but she was actually starting to accumulate fat on her stomach and thighs and it was clear she had been stuffing herself for a while since her belly looked engorged.

“Um here you go Sam” Dylan shuffled away after handing it to her almost unable to contain how much his brain was freaking out, Dylan had always had a secret attraction to fat girls but was always ashamed of it, so he dated Sam because she was the complete opposite, but now..

“Oh Dylan honey I *stuffes face with a mouthful of donut* know you hate to see me looking so fat but I promise Ill go back to bring skinny soon enough, I just have to prove my point”

Dylan sighed knowing she didn’t know the half of it.

~8 weeks later~

Dylan had been out of town on business and when he came in through the door he immediately heard a shrill scream followed by

“Dylan is that you honey? Can you help me with something?” Dylan obliged and walked into their bathroom to be shocked by what he saw, a probably borderline obese Sam stood infront of him, wearing nothing but a very very tiny thong several sizes small and a sports bra, or more likely old shirt pulled taught against her upper body, her belly was hanging over her pelvis and sticking out far past her still surprisingly medium sized tits, her sides were decorated with plump thick rolls, her arms looking akin to pillows as well as her thighs and ass, and her face was shrouded by juicy cheeks and a clingy double chin.

She was screaming in joy it seemed, she had just taken her hip measurements by the look of it and was trying to get a read on the scale

“Dylan can you please tell me what that says, I cannot see it no matter how hard I try”

Dylan still in disbelief walked to the scale and read the number “247.3” Dylan’s brain short-sercuited and Sam cried with glee again causing her body to jiggle. Dylan still just stood there in disbelief, as Sam gleefully wrote down the numbers.

“Isn’t it great? I’m getting so big!” Sam cried out

“Yeah it’s it’s great” Dylan was using every ounce of self control in his body “Wasn’t your old goal only 225 though?”

“Yeah but I figured it would be even better if I kept going so the-the before and after are better..-“ Sam trailed off getting lost in her notebooks measurements and clearly getting away from the point of this experiment and every second was torture for Dylan since he couldn’t tell her how much he was secretly, and shamefully enjoying the transformation.

“Hey hon can you help me get my waist measurement?” She held out the tape and Dylan grabbed it and wrapped it around her large gut taking a sharp inhale as he grazed her lovehandles, he met the ends at 60 inches

“60 even.” Dylan’s brain wasn’t even processing information anymore, he was just stricken with shock he couldn’t get over.

~later that night~

Sam sprawled out on the couch stuffed out of her mind when she asked Dylan to come over

“Dylannnnn can you feed this to me? I need the calories but I’m so tireddddd” Dylan heard her loud and clear and after careful consideration gave in and walked over to feed his beached whale of a girlfriend.

“Um alright, what do you want?” Sam motioned to a bag of cookies from her reclined position on the couch and opened her mouth read to be fed. Dylan hesitantly put a cookie near her mouth and she quickly ate it clearly in the habit, and Dylan repeated the action, with several of them before Sam asked him to bring her the heavy cream from the fridge, so he assisted her, and grabbed it from the fridge all while thinking about how the old Sam would’ve never even eaten 1 cookie, and would’ve never even bought the heavy cream in his hand.

Dylan got back to the couch and Sam immediately said “just pour it into my mouth it’s faster” and Dylan slowly poured it into her mouth, and Sam drank it with ease. When Dylan had practically dumped the entire carton into his girlfriend she motioned for him to stop and then let out a huge belch before grabbing the carton and finishing it herself

“Thank you hone-“ she cut herself off as she started to doze off from an apparent food coma leaving Dylan dumbstruck staring at her body, her belly was becoming ginormous and he found himself mezmorized by it before snapping himself out of it. But Dylan couldn’t resist and snuck off to the bathroom to help himself.

~another week later~

Since Dylan’s return and Sams increasing laziness and dependency Dylan ended up feeding her most meals in their apartment since Sam liked to pass out after she was stuffed. Sam has also far surpassed her original goal weight, but it didn’t seem to even matter to her anymore, she loved her new lifestyle, and was probably far too lazy to make any change regardless so for the mean time Dylan didn’t bring it up.

Later as Sam was laying in bed eating a donut with a glass of milk she watched Dylan come into the room and start changing for bed and Sam had an idea

“You know Dylan, we haven’t really done.... stuff....recently... and I was thinking maybe we could change that..?” Sam sat upright in bed trying her best to look seductive but was really just highlighting her rolls but that didn’t get Dylan any less worked up, who immediately understood what she was asking and standing there in his sweatpants getting an erection, that Sam definitely noticed and smirked at.

“I take that as a yes..?” And Dylan wandered over to the bed more ready for this than anything else in his entire life, after years of suppressing his attraction was too horny to care and pulled his boxers down as he climbed onto the bed over Sam.

Sam grinned excitedly as Dylan opened her fat filled thighs and ran his hands up and lifted her heavy belly so that he could grab her pussy. He teased his dick around the hole while he ran his hands along the dome of her belly for the first time feeling it in his palms. He grabbed Sam by her love handles and pulled them closer so he could slide his dick inside her while being harder than he had ever been before in his life. He started pumping in and out leaned over and kissed her belly (partially due to the fact that’s all he could reach due to its size) and grabbed her at the hips to keep her close. Sam moaned and rolled her head back, panting, savoring every second until Dylan open came inside her unable to hold it.

Dylan pulled his dick out and flopped horizontally onto the bed in shock and Sam just sat there panting probably tired from the minimal exercise (if you could even call it that) Dylan picked up on her breathing and decided to comment

“You know the only thing that used to make you that out of breath was hill sprints” Dylan chuckled to himself at the stark contrast from old Sam. “Also Sam, when are you gonna lose the weight? Weren’t you supposed to 40 pounds ago?”

“Oh uh yeah I’m gonna lose it soon, but what’s-whats the rush? It’ll only make my point, uh uh stronger if I’m bigger, when I finally.... lose it” Dylan chuckled to himself now knowing she was addicted to it.

“What, what’s so funny?” Sam asked hearing his chuckling

“It’s just, Sam you’re not gonna lose it. I’ve seen how out of shape you are, how much you love food? You just keeping telling yourself you will but we both know you’re not gonna” Dylan turned to face Sam and have her a very blunt stare

“Now that’s-thats just not true!” Sam started to struggle out of bed and get herself standing “See I’ll prove it right now! I’m gonna lose the weight starting now!” And she attempted to do a single jumping jack (which she couldn’t even complete) before clearly processing how difficult that was and how heavy she felt “well um I can’t start now it’ll throw off my measurements and weight for the um before and afters, I um need to get to an even number before I can even start to lose weight though, cause that’ll uh um be more powerful” she said staring at her pudgy feet “I’m only 271..”

“Well then let’s change that.” Dylan lead her to the couch her plump out of shape form struggling to follow, Dylan sat her on the couch and quickly went into the kitchen and pulled out an arsenal of fatty foods and brought them to the coffee table, he opened a bag of ding-dongs and held it infront of Sam until she took it in her mouth and Dylan proceeded to stuff her with ding-dongs and crackers and beer until she passed out in bliss at which point Dylan whispered into her ear “I’m going to make you so much fatter and you won’t be able to go back fatty”

~please leave me ideas or constructive critizim! It’s always appreciated

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ryuichirou · 4 years ago

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I really love the way you draw anatomy - you are literally perfect. Would you mind one day if you make a simple tutorial on how to draw anatomy, particularly hands and just keeping things in proportion. Sorry if this sounds like a demanding ask - u can definitely decline or not answer no offence taken x

First of all, thank you so much! <3 I’m so happy to hear that you think my anatomy looks good. I’m not sure if I can teach you anything, but I’ll try! And sorry it took me so long to reply.

I wouldn’t call this a tutorial, more like an outline of what I usually do (maybe with some tips here and there). Hope it’s at least a little bit helpful 🙏

I’ll start with how I draw the hands. Well, as you’ve probably seen on my previous post about this topic, I used to have a hard time with hands because I didn’t understand the logic behind them + my only reference was my own small and blobby hands. Practice helps a lot, but imo mostly because as you draw more hands, it becomes easier for you to break them into simpler shapes (this is important!) and imagine them in 3d in your head or as you draw.

When I draw hands, I start with a rough sketch. Basically I just draw a fingerless block first. It’s a bit illegible right now, but bear with me.

After this I add fingers. Once again, they’re all broken into shapes: a finger is just 3 short tubes connected to the block we just drew. Sometimes some parts of the “tubes” aren’t visible because of the perspective of the hand, sometimes you can clearly see all of them. As I already said, it’s all about learning how to imagine these things in 3d.

Since my sketch is so rough, I tried to make the shapes more clear here. I hope it makes sense.

After the sketch is done, I basically just… draw hands. Remember that this is skin and meat, there are going to be folds (??? Idk if this is the correct word) and stuff. And nails, oh nails… I scream when I remember the times when I used not to draw them lol They help to convey the perspective and the angle of the fingers, so for me it’s better to have them than not. I’m not drawing them the exact correct way, though, but still.

And once again, it took me a long time to start drawing hands more or less properly, and I still fix them all the time. For example, a thumb of the first one on the left is too short. In fact, I’d make all the thumbs bigger…

So yeah, something among the lines. It’s not perfect, but this is the basic idea of how it works, at least for me.

About proportions… Well, I’m one of those artists who like to make 1000000 sketches before I move on to the inking phase, it’s just more comfortable to me. This way, I give myself more control of the pose and proportions and have a lot of time to adjust and fix whatever feels off to me. Many good artists don’t do that because they don’t really need it.

First, I make a very quick sketch just to grab the “feel” of the pose I’m going for, plus it helps with the overall composition of the drawing. It isn’t detailed at all, so it takes about 5-10 minutes to draw, even less if I’m confident about what I want and don’t try to find the pose that would work the best. At this stage I try to keep the proportions in mind, but I don’t think about them too much.

When I’m more or less satisfied with the basic idea, I draw my first sketch. At this stage I’m err building the body. There are a lot of ways to do that, I’m drawing something similar to a mannequin that is made out of meat. Oh no, that sounded horrible…

As you can see, this time I pay more attention to proportions and sketch all parts of the body properly. I make sure that both arms are the same length, both legs are the same length, that the shoulders are on the same level, stuff like that. At this stage I don’t think about the character, just about the body: I’m trying to make it make sense lol

Also you might’ve noticed, but I changed the position of the arms on this sketch because my initial idea didn’t really work (I tried to sit in the same pose and it was uncomfortable lol)

And then I draw yet another sketch. Sometimes this can be the last stage and I ditch the inking altogether and just colour this sketch instead, but more often than not it looks too messy and I have to make another sketch… (This is also where Katsu usually tells me to chill because we were planning to draw something simple and quick and I’m already making it complicated lol)

Here I’m adding more details, like face, hair, clothing, anything else that I need to sketch before inking/colouring. After this sketch is done, I look at it again and see if anything looks off. If it does, I try to fix it, adjust it, sketch it again, whatever works and whatever makes my sketch less stiff and more proportional. It doesn’t have to be super realistic proportions-wise though.

Things that I pay attention to when I check the proportions on my drawings:

Shoulders: they should be the same size (although the perspective can create a distortion, but this is a whole other can of worms) + ideally they should be able to fit two heads in them length-wise.

Arms: I check if they’re the correct length (the hand part should start ~at the crotch level). If the arm on the drawing is bent, I try to visualize how it’d look like if they were straightened up. If it’s difficult to imagine, I just sketch it.

Oh, and the size of hands. I always check if they’re the correct size by comparing them to a face of the character: they should be about the same size (of course some people have larger hands and some of them have smaller hands).

Legs: same with arms, I try to make sure they are not too long and not too short. Also, when drawing arms or legs, you can draw this thing. The shoulder/hip and the hand/foot have the same distance from the elbow/knee. This… sounds confusing, I hope it at least looks understandable lol

There are a lot of ways to check if everything is correct: sometimes I just put my fingers on the screen to check if all of the lengths make sense lol and sometimes I draw these lil lines to check if the lengths of the parts that are supposed to be the same match.

If your drawing looks off, just create another layer and sketch the body (the meaty mannequin thingie) over it again. It might help you see some obvious mistakes if there are any. Some people might say it’s too much work, I call this practice lol

There are instances when I redraw some parts of the body completely. There are situations when it’s easier to do it all over again than to fix the existing sketch.

Another thing that I do is flip the image as I draw. Not very often though, you need not to get used to the flipped version of your drawing, it should be somewhat new to your eyes, this way your mistakes will be more visible to you. At least I think so…

It also helps to pay attention to details as much as you can, they make a huge difference. I still have a lot to learn about how the abs work, but like a year ago I knew nothing about them aside from “err I think there are 6 or 8 of them?? And they start below the boobs” (my boobs were also more square). After I started drawing them more often and learning how they actually work, my drawings changed accordingly. I think the right one is at least slightly better haha

So yeah, this is more or less my process. It isn’t necessary to draw 10203100 sketches and to go through all these stages, but I personally feel much more comfortable doing that because this way I can be sure that I would’ve noticed if there was a major fuckup somewhere.

To be honest, if we’re talking proportions, this image is literally the only thing you need to know.

Just keep in mind how many heads are in the human body length, how many heads can fit inside one’s torso, etc. Compare body parts to each other accordingly. Just make a habit out of checking if the proportions on your drawings are correct: make a shoulder bigger, make sure that the legs are the same size. It might be too much at first, but it’ll literally become a subconscious thing very soon, and you won’t have to actively think about all of this every time you draw. I google this image from time to time just to make sure that I’m fixing everything correctly lol

You don’t have to be exact with these proportions, but they still need to have some logic behind them. Like here, if we look at Osomatsu, who is clearly very stylized, we can still see that his body is proportionate. His shoulders are too small for his head, and his body surely doesn’t have 8 heads in its length, but he still doesn’t fall apart because there is logic behind his stylization: his arms are still long enough for him to put his hands in his pockets; they aren’t too long or too short. Hope that makes sense…

Sorry for the long read. Once again, I hope it was somewhat helpful or at least interesting. If you have any more questions, please feel free to ask!

Although I’m still learning myself of course, so there are things that I probably don’t know or forgot to mention…

#replies #ryuichirouart #tutorial #of sorts #about drawing

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falseroar · 4 years ago

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Dog Days Part 24: Three Shots Fired

((Marvin provides a distraction so Abe and Jackie can get into the studio undetected, Abe to find Wilford, Jackie to find his friends. This plan turns out to be terrible on every level.

Warning: Shooting/someone shown getting shot, no gore/details. I promise this warning will only show up one more time in this series. This is also probably the longest part in the series so far.

And here are links to the masterlist for the series and to Part 23.))

Any hopes Abe had of getting any answers out of Marvin or this other guy in the red hoodie on the drive to the studio were crushed, because once the magician was sure he knew where to go, he didn’t have another word to say to the hunter. In fact, as Abe pulled out onto the street and started driving, he asked again, “How do you two know Wilford? And why do you think he’s at this TV studio?” only to be met with silence.

Abe slowed at the red light and glanced in the rearview mirror, where he saw the two of them clearly talking in the backseat, but in the driver’s seat he couldn’t hear a single word of it. Apparently, they couldn’t hear him either, or were too busy arguing to notice.

Great. As if this whole situation wasn’t suspicious enough. Marvin might as well have held up a giant sign saying they were keeping something from him, and knowing that the magician could throw the whole “hired to stalk one of his friends for a shady client” thing back into his face didn’t make it any better.

“Why are we taking him?” Jackie asked, his eyes darting toward the hunter in the front seat. “Wasn’t the whole plan to keep him away from Y/N until we figured out what his deal is?”

“I think his deal is that he’s just an idiot,” Marvin answered. He had tossed up the silence spell as soon as the car started moving, because he suspected Jackie wouldn’t be able to keep from saying something. “And we need to get there as fast as we can, without drawing too much attention. We don’t know what we’re walking into, here.”

“Which is why we shouldn’t be bringing him! I can get there faster on my own, and don’t you have some kind of teleportation spell?”

“Sure, and we can set off every alarm in the place and never make it inside to find the others. You think a place like that doesn’t have security of their own?” Marvin asked. “Why isn’t Chase picking up his phone?!”

“I don’t know, it just keeps going straight to voicemail, and JJ’s not answering any of my texts either,” Jackie said, glancing down at his phone again. “I thought going to the studio was supposed to be safe!”

“How were we supposed to know the Colonel would be there?” Marvin rubbed his eyes, causing his shades to rise up before falling back into place on his nose. “I should have brought my mask, I just didn’t think…But if they’re stuck on a tour, then maybe they haven’t had a chance to run into him yet, if he even is there. From the way the hunter talks, it’s not like he hangs around anywhere for very long.”

“Even if we do get them out before they run into the Colonel, we still have to deal with him,” Jackie said, tilting his head in the direction of the front of the car. “I don’t trust him, and a public building where we already know one murderer might be walking around isn’t exactly the place I want to find out whether I’m right or not. He doesn’t know about Y/N, does he?”

“Of course not! But it’s not like we can hide them from him if he’s…hm.” Marvin paused, and despite his covered eyes, Jackie could see the gears turning in his mind before he said. “Then again, maybe he can be useful.”

Marvin heard Jackie’s noise at the suggestion and turned toward him as he continued, “No, listen. We can’t just go in there, guns blazing, but I also don’t think we’re going to get anywhere at the front desk without just being told to wait for the tour to end. I can give you two an opening to get in, and something to help you track down the others.”

Marvin reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a gold coin, before a twist of his fingers revealed him to be holding two coins.

“One for you, one for the hunter. I enchant them both with basic location spells, but while yours leads you to the others, his is focused on the Colonel, on Wilford. You can get them out of there, while he can have it out with Wilford like he wants without ever knowing Y/N’s there.”

And if he happened to take care of one of the men responsible for what happened to you in the process, then Marvin was completely fine with that.

“And if they’re all in the same place?” Jackie asked.

Marvin shrugged. “Then it’s already a disaster and you’ll just have to do the best you can until I can follow behind. Teleporting out will be a lot easier than getting in. Either way, we’re not going to have a repeat of what happened to Y/N the last time those two were together. Deal?”

Jackie hesitated and then nodded, determination settling in as he said, “Deal.”

Marvin snapped his fingers, dispelling the silence before he said, “Abe.”

“Oh, am I allowed to join in now?” Abe asked sarcastically. “Or are you just checking in to make sure your driver hasn’t made a wrong turn?”

Marvin chose to ignore that and explained to Abe about the coins, or at least what the one he was going to get would do.

“It’ll be kind of like a hot or cold thing,” Marvin said. “Coin gets warmer the closer you are to the person you’re looking for, as long as you’re focused on them. Not very sophisticated and doesn’t work when they’re too far away, but it’s fast to create and should work for this.”

“And what will you be doing?” Abe asked as he took the next turn. They were getting close to the studio now, and he still had no reason to trust either of these guys. “While I’m playing hot or cold with a chocolate coin?”

“This isn’t—” Marvin paused to sniff the coin to be sure and continued, “It’s not chocolate! And I’ll be providing the distraction, while Jackie will be…Look, we have friends in there we’d rather keep safe. You do your thing, and we’ll take care of ours. Deal?”

Abe frowned. One hell of a coincidence, their friends being in the studio where Wilford supposedly might be. Then again, Marvin had seemed genuinely surprised to learn the Colonel and Wilford were one and the same person, and the truth spell back in the coffee shop made it feel like that kind of thing would be hard to fake.

“Wait, the truth spell,” Abe said, glancing over his shoulder at the magician. “Did you get rid of that before we left?”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Marvin said quickly, and slowly breathed out when the car returned to its lane before he answered, “It wasn’t designed to last long. Should be fine, as long as no troubled couples got into the booth right after we left…Nothing that a little therapy couldn’t work out, anyways. And if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. Just drop us off outside the studio and keep driving.”

It would certainly make things easier, to the point Marvin was almost a little disappointed when Abe shook his head and said, “No, if there’s even a chance that man’s there, then I’m going in. You two do whatever you need to, and we’ll stay out of each other’s way.”

Marvin nodded and settled back into his seat, where he focused his attention on the two coins that he held in either palm. It was a simple spell, but he did need to concentrate if he wanted to have them ready by the time they reached the studio.

Still driving, Abe could feel the stare of the other man on the back of his head, and when he glanced into the mirror, he could see Jackie’s icy glare, his mouth turned down as if watching someone who just kicked a dog winding up to push a little old lady over in the middle of the street. Who was this guy, and why was he looking at Abe like that? Usually, the hunter could figure out what he had done or said to get that kind of hate directed his way, but as far as he knew the two of them hadn’t so much as shared a word yet. He would have blamed it on whatever Marvin told them about their conversation behind that spell of his, but he was pretty sure Jackie had been ready to throw hands the second he stepped out of the coffee shop.

Except there was that red hoodie of his, and with a sinking sensation Abe remembered the photos he showed Google, accusing him of being the red blur just barely caught on film. A blur that showed up outside of the clinic, very much like the man wearing red Abe thought he saw when he was talking to Jackson. Add in that the magician had thought he was responsible for what happened to the Host, and the doctor knowing he was being watched, and…

Marvin’s idea to split up was looking better and better by the second.

Abe found a parking spot on the street and heard, as he got out of the car, Jackie murmur to Marvin, “There’s his car. They’re still here.”

The magician nodded, looking grimly determined as he tossed Abe and Jackie their coins. “Keep these in your hand, and once you’re in the building, just focus on who you’re looking for. It works best if you have a clear image of one person in mind, which shouldn’t be a problem for you, hunter. Jackie, you’ll probably want to focus on Chase since you’ve known him the longest.”

Abe glanced down at the coin, taking in the ornate carving and what looked like an eye on one side and a bird of some kind on the other. “What kind of coin is this?”

Marvin shrugged. “Fairy gold, I think? The cheap kind that’s given to mortals to get rid of them and disappears after an hour or two.”

He paused at their expressions and added, “You know, get rid of in a general sense. Not, like, specifically, in this case.”

Jackie looked at his coin again and said, “This kind of looks like a doubloon, you know, the kind you’d find in pirates’ treasure?”

“Could be that too. You meet all kinds in the Other Realms, and they all kind of suck at cards, which…” Marvin patted himself down, muttering under his breath about everyone telling him to leave his working stuff at home and make a good impression, until he pulled out a pack of cards. “Right! Let me go in first, looks like there’s just a receptionist, so once she’s distracted you two can slip right in to the elevators.”

“Oh god,” Jackie murmured, realization dawning as he recognized the cards. “You’re not going to try to do that trick again, are you?”

“…The pick my card one, or the one that involves the flash powder?” Marvin asked.

“They’re both terrible! You can use real magic, why do you—”

“Shush, and watch a professional,” Marvin said, pressing a finger to Jackie’s lips before turning and walking through the glass doors of the studio.

“Oh no,” Jackie muttered again as the magician sauntered up to the front desk and leaned casually against it, flipping his hair out of his face before he started talking. From here, they could only see the young woman’s surprise turn into a bemused smile as Marvin began laying out the cards on the counter. “He’s flirting.”

“Is he that bad at it?” Abe asked.

“I don’t know, it just makes it that much sadder when he—” Jackie stopped with a sigh as the entire deck of cards scattered up into the air and began slowly drifting down, only for the first card to hit the floor with a flash and a bang that made the poor receptionist shriek, not helped when Marvin pulled her under the desk as the rest of the cards began to go off as they hit the ground. “Come on, before security gets here!”

Jackie grabbed Abe’s arm and ran inside, easily dodging the drifting cards but leaving the hunter to try and keep up on his own. By the time they reached the elevators, out of sight of the front desk, Abe was swearing and beating out a small flame on one of his sleeves.

“What the hell kind of distraction was that? Is he trying to let the whole building know we’re here?” Abe asked, but Jackie wasn’t listening.

“Still got your coin? Great, you can take one of the elevators, I’ll take the stairs,” Jackie said, pushing him inside of the opening doors after having already hit the call button.

“Wait, how am I supposed to use the coin in here?” Abe asked. “I don’t know which floor—”

But this was the perfect opportunity to ditch the hunter, and Jackie’s answer was to reach inside and run a hand over the buttons, lighting up as many as he could in one go before stepping out of the way of the closing doors. “Focus, and get out when the coin turns warm. From there it’s on you, so good luck with that, hunter.”

Jackie had to admit, it felt good to see the indignation on Abe’s face before the doors slid shut, but he didn’t have a lot of time to enjoy it. From the sound of it, the last of the cards were drifting down, and when he darted into the stairwell, he looked back in time to see Marvin backing toward the front doors, his hands held up in defense as his apologies were drowned out by the receptionist’s review of his performance.

He locked eyes with the magician and raised his phone, Marvin giving a subtle nod of understanding before Jackie began running up the stairs. On his side, Marvin had the phones he had retrieved from the bin behind the desk while the receptionist had been distracted, both of which he recognized as Chase’s and Jameson’s. Said receptionist who was now pulling off her shoe in a way that suggested he should probably go now.

Once outside and with maybe a block or two between him and the very angry young lady, Marvin could stop and take a breath before considering how he would get himself into the building if they needed an out.

“Should’ve brought the mask,” he muttered, already aware of the cracks forming in his shades as the spells built into them began to wear thin. Once those were gone, any hope of being “subtle” about this (not that there was much of one to begin with) went out the window. “Or the dagger, or the marbles, or the wind-up mouse, but no, it might look bad, Marvin.”

But the “I told you so” would have to wait until later, when he had the right audience for it. For now, Marvin made his way back toward the studio, careful to keep his distance as he watched the security guards trying to calm down the receptionist.

As he watched, they leaned over the counter and pulled up something on the computer. Marvin hissed, realizing that they must have cameras around here, just as one of the guards picked up a nearby phone and called someone before nodding to the other guard who went in the direction of the elevators.

Great. Hopefully Jackie and Abe were still moving, but Marvin couldn’t exactly wait around for a call. He squinted, and had to move closer to get the details from the guard standing at the desk, but once he was sure he reached up and rubbed the charm hanging from his left ear between his thumb and index finger until the illusion spell in it took hold.

Marvin opened the lobby door and walked in, passing by the receptionist and guard without slowing down or making eye contact. The guard glanced at him and then turned his attention back to the receptionist, who was saying something about how “that thing” creeped her out, sure in his own mind that he had just seen one of the other guards walk by. Not enough to answer if someone asked who exactly he had seen, just someone in the right kind of uniform with a face more or less like someone he had seen around probably.

The point was to act confident and keep moving, not to give anyone the chance to think about him twice or ask him any questions. To look like he knew where he was going, although when Marvin stepped into the elevator, he knew that couldn’t be farther from the truth. As soon as the doors closed, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to Jackie, hoping that he had managed to get somewhere in those few minutes.

Only to freeze when he heard the sound of gunshots somewhere in the building above.

Jackie had moved quickly, only pausing at the door of each floor to give enough time to make sure the coin hadn’t grown any warmer before running up the next flight of stairs. Keeping his focus on Chase was a lot harder than he expected it to be, with everything else going on, and he was starting to wonder if he was doing this right when he felt the heat start to spread out from the coin. He ran up to the next floor to be sure, only for the coin to immediately grow colder once he was just five steps away.

Jackie went back down and pushed open the door, listening for any sound or sign of anyone else, but the hallways were empty. He had lost count of the floors a while ago, but a sign across from the elevator proclaimed this floor to be part of Studio 5, whatever that meant. He glanced back at the elevator as it dinged open, but there was no sign of the hunter inside before it continued its way up, so it looked like Abe had either found where Wilford was hiding at or had been caught.

Either option worked for Jackie, really, and he trained his focus back on Chase as he kept close to the walls. By the time he reached the room with the recording light lit up above it and the glass window that looked into the small studio, the coin was practically burning in his hand, but the second he looked in and his concentration broke, it went as cold as the chill at the back of his mind.

Jameson and Chase were sitting at a table, arguing with two identical twins with a set of microphones between them, but there was no sign of you or anyone else in the room, not even when he leaned to get a better look at the corner near the door. Desperately, he knocked on the window, too thick for them to hear even when he shouted their names, and then yanked open the door.

Ignoring the protests of the other two men, Jackie asked, “Where’s Y/N?” and the coin in his hand became freezing cold.

---

When Abe stepped out of the elevator, a large sign pointed him in the direction of Studio 3, but the coin in his hand led him in the opposite direction until he finally found himself standing outside of a door with a star on it. The paint used to write the name “Wilford Warfstache” on it still looked fresh.

The hunter pocketed the hot coin and pulled out his gun. Still loaded with the five silver bullets, he turned off the safety and took a breath before knocking on the door.

“Come in,” came an all too familiar singsong voice inside.

It was all the invitation Abe needed.

He slammed the door open and raised his gun as he said, “Don’t move!”

“Hm? Well, I wasn’t really planning on it, but now I kind of want to,” answered the man sprawled out on a couch on the opposite side of a room that was such an eyesore of colors that Abe thought he could be forgiven for not immediately being able to pick Wilford out of the madness. The couch itself was a vibrant pink to match his mustache, as was the dressing table and mirror and the low end table between the two of them, the walls a bright cheery yellow, and the round rug that covered most of the floor was a spiral of pink and yellow. In the corner there was a yellow wardrobe with a carefully painted pink mustache on its front. Did this room used to belong to a clown or something?”

“Oh, the decorations? Do you like them? I picked them out myself,” Wilford said, leaning forward only to tilt his head when Abe made an incoherent shout. “You sure are jumpy, uh…Hold on, I know this one, it’s…Dave?”

Wilford pointed at Abe, his eyebrows raised and waiting for some kind of confirmation that didn’t come.

“Okay, not Dave. It’s never Dave, is it? Bim? No, Bim’s the other guy, the fluffy one…Steve? Dave?”

Wilford rattled off names, but Abe could only stare at him in disbelief before he had to shut him up.

“You know who I am! You shot me in the chest!”

“Now, that could be quite a lot of people,” Wilford said.

“You killed my partner, you killed my friend, you—” Abe sputtered, not sure why he was even doing this even as he exclaimed, “You killed so many people!”

“Well, yes, but you see—” Wilford bounced up onto his feet, only to pause and halfway raise his hands when Abe raised his gun again. Something about seeing the hunter ready to pull the trigger must have stirred something in his memory, because his eyes suddenly lit up and he said, “Abe! Abe. How have you been? I was just talking about you earlier with…who was it?”

“How have I—How do you think I’ve been?!” Abe moved into the room, using the heel of his foot to slam the door behind him. Not that it mattered, because he had no intention of letting anyone stop him now. “I’ve been looking for you, ever since that party. Ever since you…Ever since you destroyed everything!”

“Now, that seems like a bit of an exaggeration,” Wilford protested.

“An exaggeration? You killed your best friend, because of you the woman you loved and her brother, your other best friend, are both dead too, you tried to kill me, you killed Y/N—and then you think you can just walk away from all that, like nothing even happened?!” Abe’s grip was tightening on the gun, his finger close to pulling the trigger as tears began to sting the corner of his eyes, but he wanted to hear him say it, wanted to hear him admit to what he had done after all these years. Even if Abe was the only one to hear it, he needed this.

“I’m not sure you have the full story here,” Wilford started, only to pause when Abe pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

“That was just a warning,” Abe muttered as he pulled back the hammer on the gun. Internally though, he was cursing the luck that the one chamber that was empty happened to be the first one when he had a perfect shot lined up. “You really should stop talking.”

“Well, which is it that you want, for me to stop talking or to answer you? I’m getting some mixed signals here! And while it’s true that, in a sense, I may have done some terrible things, I never actually—”

Wilford ducked and pulled out his own gun when the hunter’s second attempt missed, but he just gestured wildly with it as he said, “Yes, I have one of those too, but if you would just listen to me, I think you might want to hear what I have to say!”

His eyes darted to the left as he considered his words and added, “Possibly. I’m starting to think you might just want to shoot me.”

“Really? What would you give that idea?” Abe asked sarcastically as he cocked the hammer again and aimed at Wilford’s face, determined that he wouldn’t waste this third chance. “You’re right. I don’t want excuses. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I just want you dead.”

He pulled the trigger, but at the last possible second someone grabbed his wrist and threw off his aim. Abe hadn’t heard the door open behind him, partially because firing a gun in this small a space had temporarily wrecked his hearing, but he did hear his name being shouted as the last person he ever expected to see again stepped between him and Wilford.

“Abe! Stop! Just stop!”

“…Y/N?”

You were out of breath, but he sounded as breathless as you as the forgotten gun slipped out of his hand and hit the ground. At the noise, he suddenly realized how very close he came to shooting you when you did that. When you stopped the hunter from shooting him, but why? How could you do something so stupid, so reckless, so, so—

“What…? How…?” Abe struggled for words, his anger and concern fighting it out with confusion taking a chair to both of them, but you just shook your head.

“You need to hide, Google—” You froze, aware of the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, and after a quick look around the room pushed Abe into a nearby wardrobe and shut the door on him, hissing, “Keep quiet!”

Abe started to protest, but he heard you turn and lean up against the wardrobe door just as the door to the dressing room opened and a voice he recognized spoke.

“Gunshots have been fired in this room,” Google said, staring around before focusing on you in the corner, and then turning back to Wilford when he shrugged and answered.

“It happens. Why, just earlier I—” Wilford gestured with his gun and Abe had to bite his fist to keep from crying out when he heard the shot and the silence before he said, “Sorry about that, Googs.”

“It’s…fine,” Google said, although his tone suggested otherwise. Outside the wardrobe, you and Wilford watched as the magitek unit wiped the splash left by the wax bullet off of his cheek with a noise of disgust before he said, “I am looking for unauthorized intruders in the building. One is currently unidentified, while the other matches my files for a hunter by the name of Abe Lincoln.”

That made Abe pause. Why would a TV studio have a record on him? Wasn’t like he had ever been here before, and from the little he knew of DE Studios they were more likely to hire the monster than a hunter. He wanted nothing more than to push open the wardrobe door just a crack, just enough to see what color shirt this Google unit was wearing, but you were leaning so hard against it that he couldn’t even hope for some fresh air to counter the smell of mothballs in Wilford’s catastrophe of a closet. What was the large fuzzy thing against his leg? It didn’t just move, did it?”

“Good for you,” Wilford answered cheerfully. “It’s good to have a hobby.”

“Looking for intruders is not…” Google paused and then decided to ask you instead, “Have you seen either of these men? They must be dealt with using the full extent of my abilities to handle such pests.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you pointed out.

“…But it is the ideal option, and therefore the most logical one to take,” Google answered, making you wonder what was included in his definition of “ideal.” “I will repeat the question, have you seen these men?”

“Sorry, Google, I think you’ll have to look somewhere else.”

Google considered you for a moment before saying, “Based on my records, this would be the ideal location to find the intruder, although it is possible that he managed to get himself lost. Humans have a tendency to need…direction.”

“Nah, getting lost is half the fun, Google,” Wilford said. “You should try it some time. Right now, even.”

“I am incapable of getting lost, and such distractions are unnecessary at this time,” Google answered. “I am going to continue my search now.”

“Good luck,” Wilford called after him before he shut the door and remarked to you, “You know, sometimes I think that guy is a little—”

He paused as Abe fell out of the wardrobe, wildly kicking back what turned out to be, in the light, a large, pink afro. The hunter froze, unable to explain why that had seemed so much scarier in the wardrobe, but then he had more important things to worry about than his pride when his eyes refocused on you and the questions he just couldn’t begin to wrap his mind around yet.

“Y/N. You’re…”

Here. Alive. Real.

And shaking, your arms wrapped around your chest but not quite able to hide the tremors running up and down your body.

“Are you okay?” Abe asked, his mind immediately jumping to the worst. When he fired before, he hadn’t…? But there’d be a sign, they couldn’t hide it if the bullet had…For a moment, Abe thought he was going to be sick himself.

“There’s too much…Just, just give me a second,” you said, taking a step back and clenching your eyes shut. If you could just shut it all out for a second, just have a chance to catch your breath for once in what felt like forever, but you couldn’t do it. After seeing what had become of Damien and Celine, of having all of that rage and anger turn into fear and adrenaline as you raced down the stairs, following the sounds of gunshots while being terrified what you might find, running in to find Abe and Wilford with guns drawn, reliving the worst moment of your life again even if it didn’t turn out like that, it was no wonder you felt like your chest was trying to cave in along with the rest of the world. The corners of your eyes were burning, but more terrifying was the feeling that at any second…Why was it so hard to even breathe?

Abe stared, but then it wasn’t like he could take his eyes off of you. He could see the lines of your face, your shoulders and spine, shifting back and forth like you were trying to hold yourself in place. Like you were trying not to transform right here and now. More than that, you looked—afraid? Sad?

Alone.

Abe became aware of Wilford wildly gesturing to get his attention before making a gesture, and the hunter felt a brief surge of the same rage that had taken him just minutes before. What the hell did he think he was doing? Wilford shook his head and gestured again, before finally resorting to mouthing the words as large as possible without making a sound. Even then, Abe hesitated, unsure if it was because he didn’t want to take that kind of advice from him, or because he wanted so much to do it that it was almost terrifying.

Either way, it didn’t take long to give in and move closer to you.

You flinched backwards out of reflex, but Abe said, “It’s just me, Y/N. It’s just…”

He struggled for what to say before just pulling you into a hug. Something he’d never got the chance to do before it all went wrong. You pressed your face into his chest, focusing on the smell you wouldn’t have ever thought you’d miss in that life. Holding you, Abe could feel you slowly relax, the tension not quite disappearing but fading enough that you could sigh and speak again.

“I missed you, Abe.”

“I missed you too, Partner.”

“Oh, this is just lovely, isn’t it?” Wilford said, and Abe rocked back on his heels as he joined in the hug, his arms wrapping around the both of you. “Look at us, together again!”

“Where’s my gun?” Abe growled, already looking down to see where he had dropped it.

“Don’t,” you said, and Abe could hear the exhaustion in your voice. “Please, Abe, not now. You need to know what really happened that weekend, and I promise I’ll try to…”

You sighed, head already hurting at the idea of trying to explain everything that happened. Your chest ached again, but you could feel the strength leaving your body like it had the night before last when you changed back, as if staying human was too much of an effort on top of everything else.

But you just had to make it a little longer, that’s all.

“But we need to get out of here,” you continued. Google was still roaming the halls, and Dark… You grimaced at the thought and felt the fangs in your mouth for a moment before they receded back into your regular teeth. “Please.”

Abe hesitated. Wilford was right here, he could end this all right now, but you were clearly not okay. His mind went back to when he left you in that hallway, told you to leave while he went running after the Colonel. He had often thought about that moment, remembered the look on your face, your grief at losing your friend combined with the confusion and the pain from your own injuries, and what he would have done differently if he had been given the chance.

He just didn’t think it would be this hard, to say, “Okay. We’ll go.” To pick up his gun and holster it, to keep an arm around you for support. To walk away and leave Wilford there, smiling and waving as though seeing off a couple of old friends.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep Googs busy for you,” Wilford said, and Abe felt the back of his neck itch with the desire to turn around and finish what he started. “I’ll make sure your name is added to the guest list, Abe, so feel free to come back any time!”

Abe made a noise at that but tried to hold back what he wanted to say for your sake. He had every intention of coming back here and settling this, once he was sure you were safe this time.

Wilford watched the two of you make your way down the hall, still waving until he stopped as if just noticing something was wrong. He rolled his shoulder back and then prodded it, his fingers finding the small hole in his shirt and then, with a bit of work, pulling out a used silver bullet.

“Huh.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had a vague thought that, if you hadn’t intervened and this bullet had hit where Abe had been aiming, it would have been very bad. There was also something familiar about that whole business, an old face reappearing in his dressing room…But that thought quickly passed and he tossed the misshapen piece of silver over his shoulder with a shrug before turning his mind back to what he was supposed to be doing.

Or he would have, if that little distraction hadn’t made him forget. All thought of you and the hunter had disappeared as soon as the two of you were out of sight, so he swayed on his feet for a moment in the hallway, mind blank. If it were really important, he was sure it would figure itself out on its own without him. Most things usually did.

“Wilford Motherloving Warfstache! What have I told you about shooting in the building?!”

Right. Kathryn, his producer. His very angry producer, judging by the look on her face. Wilford inhaled, an excuse ready on his lips, before he dove back into his dressing room and shut the door with the faint hope that maybe she’d just keep walking on. Maybe she was yelling at someone else who also just happened to be named Wilford Motherloving Warfstache too, in which case, rude, Wilford was pretty sure he had this name first.

Either way, keeping Google busy was something that would only occur to him days later, when he would decide the best way to do that was spill a martini down Google’s pants. Not exactly helpful to you, but the Jims would have a field day catching that moment on film.

For now, Abe walked you to the elevators and pressed the down arrow, although he wasn’t sure what the plan would be once you reached the lobby. Just walk out and hope no one was too worried about people getting out of here, although if they had already spotted him on the cameras…

“No, we need to go up,” you protested, pushing the up arrow. “To Studio…5, I think?”

You rubbed your eyes, trying to push back the headache forming behind them, and shook your head when Abe said, “No, we don’t. We need to get out of here, remember?”

“My friends—” you started, only for the stair well door to crash open as Jackie, followed closely by Jameson and Chase, came spilling out and froze at the sight of you and Abe. “Have really good timing? Jackie, what are you—”

You were cut off as Jameson pulled you into a hug and then stepped back to look you up and down before signing, “Are you okay? We heard shooting!”

“Wait, you know them?” Abe asked.

“We came as fast as we could,” Jackie said to you, but he was glaring at Abe, who could already tell this guy was going to be a problem. “What the hell happened?”

“You didn’t actually shoot anyone, did you?” Chase asked, eyeing the gun at Abe’s side.

“No,” Abe answered, probably sounding a little more defensive than he meant to.

“Long story,” you muttered. “But we should get out of here first.”

“Security’s looking for us,” Abe added. Well, him in particular, but Jackie had also been caught on camera even if they hadn’t IDed him yet. “They checked the cameras fast, too fast for one person they know walked back out again. Probably because the magician’s distraction was a little…”

“Much, yeah,” Jackie admitted. That card trick of Marvin’s had given them the space to get in, but something forgettable like asking the receptionist for directions would have also done the trick without alerting every security guard in the building. “Something to work on for next time, but how do we get out of here?”

“Well, the three of us have guest passes,” Chase pointed out. “It’s just the two of you we have to worry about.”

Jackie had a suggestion ready for that, and Abe saw it coming, but he was interrupted by the elevator doors finally sliding open to reveal it was already occupied. At first most of the group tensed, thinking it was one of the security guards until he spoke.

“Oh, hi,” Marvin said, looking around and taking them all in with a quick count. “Well, this is easier than I thought it would be. Get in, we can’t just hang around here all day.”

Abe exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing into a glare that Jackie matched, and Marvin rolled his eyes as they all got in.

“Not my fault someone decided to start shooting,” Marvin remarked as he pressed the doors close button on the elevator over and over again until they slid shut. “Everyone is going to be swarming up here any second thanks to you, which should actually make it a little easier to walk out.”

Jackie said, “For you, maybe. Hunter and I don’t exactly have badges or illusions to help us blend in.”

“Like I was going to say, that’s easy,” Chase said. “They just saw you on the cameras, right? At a distance, probably not that great quality video, so all they’re working on is ‘guy in a hoodie’ and ‘bald guy with a black jacket.’ Just take those off, let us hold them, and JJ, let the angry guy borrow your hat. We keep our heads down on the way out and run if we have to.”

Jackie and Abe both hesitated, but Jameson shrugged and pulled off his hat. “He has a point.”

But you shook your head, eyes shut tight as you leaned against the elevator wall and wished it didn’t shake so much, that there was a window or some kind of vent or fresh air of any kind with this many people around you.

“Google said he had a file on Abe, so they know what his face looks like.”

Jackie gave the hunter an accusing stare as he asked, “There a reason this place has a file on you? Maybe something you should have told us before we came in here?”

“How should I know?!” Abe asked, before the realization hit. “Wait, this Google, what color is his shirt?”

“It’s…blue,” Chase answered, with an agreeing nod from Jameson. “But why does that matter?”

Because if it was the red one, then at least Abe would know why they knew him. It would make things a whole lot simpler, if he knew someone here was behind that loose end.

“They have a file on Abe for the same reason Wilford’s here and I’m on the guest list,” you answered, shaking the VIP badge hanging around your neck. “The studio manager, the one in charge of everything here, is Damien and Celine, or whatever’s left of them.”

Marvin slammed his hand on the emergency stop button, causing the elevator to immediately halt and everyone to stumble and catch themselves and each other while an alarm overhead began to go off.

“What are you doing?!” Abe said, his hand on your arm while Jameson was steadying you on the other side. “What happened to just walking out?!”

“New plan,” Marvin answered as he dropped to his hand and knees with a piece of chalk in hand. He drew a large symbol in the center of the elevator floor before scuttling around to draw a circle within the space the elevator provided, which meant pushing each of them out of the way in turn. “We are not taking any more chances, so teleport spell. Easier when we’re not moving. Now get in the circle, all of you, and try not to step on the chalk.”

“Didn’t you say this place would have something to stop people from doing this?” Jackie asked.

“To stop people from teleporting in, probably. Getting out though, why would anyone care about that?” Marvin looked at you, and when you met his stare through his sunglasses he asked, “Do you really think they’d let us leave?”

You sighed. After your talk with Dark, you weren’t sure of anything, and the scream of the alarm wasn’t making it any easier to think. “I don’t know.”

Marvin glanced at Jackie, who reluctantly nodded. Better not to risk it, if they could, not after what the twins did to you last time.

Once he was sure they were all in, Marvin stepped into the center of the circle and focused his energy. Around them, the chalk lit up with a brilliant blue light, reflecting off of the shiny walls of the elevator and giving them all a sickly color. To you, it was just a bright, colorless light that suddenly changed at the same second you heard Marvin’s breath catch.

The light in the elevator turned red before the circle suddenly drew in around the magician, whose head went back before he collapsed on the ground, flashes of red running up and down his body before they disappeared, taking the teleportation circle he had drawn with them.

“Marvin!”

The shout came from all sides, Jameson dropping to his knees first to look the magician over before looking up at the rest of you.

“He’s still breathing. I don’t know what he’s trying to say, though.”

There was a steady stream of words flowing from the magician’s mouth which to everyone else may have sounded like another one of his spells. You on the other hand could clearly hear that it sounded like every swear word Marvin knew, spoken as fast as possible under his breath, although you could only guess that was the case considering he had left English behind a while ago for German and had taken a detour into what now sounded like Gaelic. He was clearly in pain, but also not too injured from whatever just happened.

Jackie knelt to check his vitals, only to have to steady Jameson as the elevator floor suddenly jolted. The alarm stopped, and you all became aware of the elevator moving downward again just before the doors slid open to reveal the hallway to the lobby, along with Google and three armed guards who were all aiming into the elevator.

There was a moment of silence before Google said, “Intruders located. Lethal force suggested.”

His eyes changed as he stepped forward toward Abe or Marvin and Jackie on the ground you weren’t sure, and you could feel the hum of his machinery whirring up to do something before you blocked his path.

“Back off,” you growled, and it was a literal growl as you could feel the wolf taking over, as your features started to blur and shift. You felt the metal under his skin as you pushed him back out of the elevator, could smell the fear on the three all too human guards, could hear the others behind you holding their breath in shock as the fur began to show, as your teeth and claws came out. “You—”

Whatever you were about to say was cut off as one of the guards panicked and fired his gun, the blast of noise hurting far more than the punch of it hitting your stomach. It knocked the breath out of you, and for a moment everything seemed to slow.

Abe.

Out of reflex or instinct, your hand reached back and grabbed Abe’s wrist, stopping him before he could grab his gun and make himself a target. Your grip was too tight at first, and you tried to relax, to give him and the others behind you some signal that you were okay, even as underneath the ringing you could hear Jackie leaping to his feet and the panic of the others. Your mind felt like it was running too fast and too slow at the same time, but you felt strangely calm.

It was just a regular bullet, after all.

None of them managed to move faster than Google though, who without hesitation reached over and twisted the guard’s wrist with a sickening sound that was followed by his gun hitting the ground and a whimper of pain.

“Shooting VIPs is strictly forbidden,” Google said.

VIPs. The adrenaline racing through your system hit that word and stumbled across an idea that was completely ridiculous and stupid, mostly because you had a faint hope it might actually work.

“Google,” you said, drawing the magitek unit’s attention to you. It hurt, talking, each word a reminder of the sting in your stomach that was too slowly fading. “VIPs are allowed to bring guests, right? Is there a limit on how many I can have?”

Google considered the question while the other two guards just stared and exchanged looks, both very aware of their coworker lying in pain on the ground and the problem of this clearly non-human person who was still talking despite being doubled over a gunshot wound. “No, there is currently no limit in the policy. A concerning oversight that should be corrected.”

“But until then, there isn’t one. Which means—” You stopped to hiss slightly, your grip tightening on Abe’s wrist until the next surge of pain dimmed a little to continue, “—that as of now, everyone in that elevator is a guest of mine, understand? And if they’re guests, then that means they can’t be intruders.”

You could feel the fur start to settle and disappear, the claws and fangs slowly begin to retract. Too late to undo what they had all seen, but you couldn’t think about that right now. Even if a small part of you was wondering why Abe hadn’t pulled away yet, or if that flash of anger and what you could be would be enough to change how the others looked at you.

“Your logic appears to be…correct,” Google said, but his expression said he was still trying to find the hole in it. “But they do not have visitor passes.”

You hesitated, but Chase stepped forward and said, “That’s right, which you told us means they should be escorted out of the building, right? And since we’re already on our way out…”

“Understood,” Google said, sounding almost disappointed that he wasn’t able to break a few more bones. “Follow me.”

One of the security guards stepped forward and said, “Hold on, you can’t just—”

He paused, his eyes going to somewhere in the elevator behind you, and he swallowed and looked back at the other guard still standing who muttered back, “I’m not paid enough for this.”

Besides, it would be easier to blame Google than try to get involved at this point, or that seemed to be the guards’ point of view as they helped their third comrade up to his feet and out of the way.

Jackie picked up Marvin, who protested in a slurred voice, and you let go of Abe’s wrist only to find the hunter slipping his arm around you, his hand enveloping yours over the wound underneath.

“Lean on me,” he murmured under his breath as Jameson moved to support you on your other side.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even though that was an absolute lie. “It wasn’t silver.”

It was Abe’s turn for his grip to tighten, holding you closer as the strange group followed the magitek unit across the lobby floor. He didn’t want to think about what he had just seen, the shot that was an echo of what his imagination brought to mind every time it went back to that night.

“At least until they’re not watching,” Abe pleaded, aware of the guards still in the lobby, the receptionist behind her desk. Aware that they had already seen you in your in between state, the fur and the fangs and something else he hadn’t really seen in you before now: anger.

You leaned against him, too tired to argue, in too much pain to pretend you weren’t, and asked, “Does it really matter anymore?”

Abe glanced over your head at Jameson, whose expression reflected what he was already thinking. You could hear Chase somewhere behind you, apologizing in a low voice to the guards before Jackie hissed at him to hurry up, just as you could hear the ticking of Jameson’s pocket watch that felt slightly out of sync with the steady noise coming from Google as he stopped at the glass doors of the studio and turned back to face your group.

“I am required to thank you for your time here at Dark Entertainment Studios,” he said, his eyes running over the six of you before focusing on you in particular. “I have also been asked to issue you your permanent VIP card for future visits, as well as a message from the studio manager.”

You stared at him in silence before taking the laminated card and the folded piece of paper, unable to think of anything to say before Abe and Jameson walked you out with the other three just behind.

Outside, you blinked in the sunlight and found it did nothing to get rid of the spots appearing on the edges of your vision, and let Abe and Jameson lead you in the direction of the parking lot while your aching, weary mind could only focus on the note Google had handed you.

Think about what I said, Y/N. And know that you’re always welcome here.

No training required.

-Dark

You recognized the handwriting, which made it sting that much more as you remembered notes in Damien’s handwriting, passed to you in crowded lecture halls or left on your desk at work early in the morning or after a rough full moon. A fresh little reminder that the man you thought you knew, that man…

You wanted to be furious, angry, to let all those feelings he left you with come spilling out of your head so they would just leave you alone, but as you stared at the note you just felt so tired, so done with it all. You just wanted to close your eyes and forget it all, for a little while at least…

Abe pulled your hand down, his concerned face swimming in your vision as his mouth moved, saying words that seemed out of sync with what you heard before it disappeared entirely with the rest of the world.

Abe had been arguing with Jackie about which car to take you to when he felt the shudder run up and down your body. Jameson stopped on your other side and looked at Abe, his eyes filled with panic, but neither of them could say or do anything to get through to you in time to keep you conscious or to stop you from crashing to the sidewalk in the shape of the wolf.

((End of Part 24. Thank you for reading. I’m sorry to end it there, and I had hoped to have the next part ready soon, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. So just to be clear in the mean time, the turning back into the wolf thing isn’t going to be nearly as long-lasting as it was in the beginning, and Marvin is (mostly) fine. He just really, really sucks at flirting and rescue operations, so that’s something for him to work on before the end of the story.

I may try to get the rest of the story written before I start posting again, but we’ll see. Technically, we’re getting near the end, but there’s a lot left to happen and I haven’t exactly been very good at sticking to an outline, even if I like where the detours have gone (this whole studio section was supposed to be completely different, for example). For now though, it’s going to be another break until the next part is posted.

Scratch that, Part 25: Catching Up is now up.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard ))

#markiplier #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #werewolf au #monster hunter au #abe the detective #wkm district attorney #wilford warfstache #googleplier #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #flashy and cool isn't always the answer marvin #remember when Damien was the one who could help keep y/n human when it was getting to be too much?

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