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anonquack · 3 years ago

Text

| Best Friend |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 10661

Warnings: Some curse words and overthinking. This one got a bit long!

Summary: After a CC Convention is announced, you and your friends plan to meet up for it. You expect to enjoy yourself with friends but instead are forced to deal with feelings you didn't even know you had. Luckily, your friends are there to give you a push in the right direction.

"Okay but height comparison between Quackity and Sapnap when??" You asked midst all the chaos occurring on that wonderful night. Despite your busy schedule, you'd gotten some time off to finally stream and some friends to keep you company.

Which resulted in this mess of a stream you were now broadcasting.

Your question caught their attention, and a soft scoff could be heard from Sapnap's mic.

"You're kidding, right? You're basically saying you need to CHECK that I'm taller when we already know that's true. You're insulting me." Sapnap said, the cockiness evident in his tone. You couldn't help but stare at your monitor in amusement at how sure of himself he sounded.

"That's not true. Literally check the height check Karl and I had versus the one Sapnap had with him." Quackity argued back, earning scoffs from almost everyone on the call.

"I know you're trying to use that to back you up, but you're just proving my point." Sapnap was intense whenever he became competitive or got into arguments, so you could only raise your brows as you watched chat fly by with their own opinions on the discussion, including their very questionable comments regarding Sapnap and how attractive he was being.

"Well, personally," Bad quipped in, "I think Sapnap's the taller one. Just makes the most sense since Quackity gives off Short Person Energy."

"Yeah? Well keep that WRONG opinion to yourself. That shit's embarrassing-"

"Language!" Bad interrupts Quackity, eliciting a laugh from everyone on call.

"You know chat," you call out after pondering on a solution for a bit, "We can figure this all out during the meetup!"

"Meetup?" Bad asked, confusion evident in his tone. You could almost see his furrowed brows and confused smile.

"Yes, Bad, meet-up. All four of us. Plus the others. And you guys, if you decide to go." The last bit was directed at the viewers. "Don't you remember? The convention is a thing that's supposed to be happening this year."

"Ohhh." He let out a small sound, as if his memory was finally coming back. "I haven't decided if I'm going yet." He admits softly.

"You most certainly are! You have to be there so I can beat BOTH Sapnap and you up once we all find out I'm the taller one." Quackity chimes in finally, teasing tone evident.

"As if," Sapnap scoffs, "Bad and I will literally kick your ass."

"Language." Soft as ever, and also a sign that it's getting late. You look over at your monitor, which displayed the time before letting out a small gasp.

"Oh- it's late. I hope I haven't been keeping you guys awake for too long. It's probably best we end for tonight anyway." You hum softly as you click some tabs away, noticing the faint sounds of stretching heard in the background of the call.

"It's fine, I wasn't even tired until you mentioned how late it was. You should've kept quiet." Quackity says with a patronizing tone, to which you simply chuckle.

"Thank you guys for sticking around. I really had a lot of fun.. we should do this more often. Us four." It was an honest confession, but perhaps too soft for them all and too personal for the audience to listen in on too.

"I had fun too, you should invite me to your streams more often, or, whatever." Sapnap mumbles, sounding a bit tired as well, but sincere despite the lack of care in his words.

It results in a small smile on your face anyway.

"Bye!! Thank you for inviting us, I'm gonna miss messing around with you all. Sleep well." Bad adds, a small whine to his voice as they all start saying their goodbyes.

As they finish up their goodbyes, you quickly deafen to start saying your own goodbyes to chat and thanking the last minute subs rolling in.

After all is over, you finish closing up the tabs, leaving the discord one last. As you're about to officially leave the call, you realize there is still one person there. He hadn't left.

"Quackity-?" You'd voiced out in confusion after undeafening. You'd thought they'd all leave while you took your sweet time saying goodbye.

"Yeah?" He sounded confused by your own confusion. You couldn't help the small smile that appeared on your face.

"Were you waiting for me to end or did you just forget to leave the call?" It was a genuine question, but perhaps a teasing tone slipped in towards the end.

"I was waiting, I'm not an asshole nor a dumbass." He lets out a laugh before continuing. "I just wanted to say I had fun tonight."

You hummed softly, "I'm glad you did. I had fun too."

"If I'm being honest, I wasn't feeling all too well, and just, joking around with you.. Sapnap, and Bad.. well it was just really nice. Thank you." His tone was soft, filled your headphones so nicely and brought comfort into the air.

"Oh, well it's good that you're feeling better now, but if you ever aren't feeling up for a stream.. please tell me, okay? Your wellbeing is much more important to me than a scuffed stream."

"No no, it's fine. I needed something to distract myself with and you all helped so much. It really got me excited for the meet-up. I- I can't wait to hang out with you in person. With all of you, I mean."

The smile on your face grew, almost to the point where it had your cheeks hurting. "I can't wait to hang out with all of you either. Good thing we won't have to wait long, hm?"

Faint sounds in the background of stretching and even softer yawns. "Mhm. Do you wanna switch to phone call?"

It was the usual invitation to fall asleep on call together. At this point, it almost felt strange whenever you headed to bed without Quackity mumbling stuff about his day to you or hearing the soft breathing sounds from his end of the call.

"Sounds good. Talk to you in a bit." You smiled, hearing a small bye from him before leaving the call. You turned off your whole setup for the night and headed straight to your bed.

It didn't take long for the phone to start ringing a few moments after you'd managed to lay down.

"Hi." You answered softly, placing the phone next to your head as you covered yourself with your blankets. It was only a matter of time before the sleepiness took over, but for now you'd enjoy Quackity's company.

"Hey." Was his response, voice sounding much closer now that you were laying down with your phone so close to your ear. It almost felt like he was laying down beside you.

You wondered for a split second what that would be like, if he'd be warm and welcoming or if he'd value his personal space while sharing a bed. As friends, of course.

You refocused on his voice as he began talking about his plans for the meet-up, and all the things he wanted to do once you all were in person. It was so sweet to hear how excited he was, and just how much he wanted to do with you all.

Sweet moments like these make you hyper-aware of the amazing friends you have, and how much love you have for them all. Tonight couldn't have been better, all thanks to them.

—

As the meet-up date gets closer, and more interactions happen during streams / calls / messages, it becomes more evident how much your friends mean to you; just how badly you want to meet all of them.

And as the date for the meet-up gets closer, responsibilities such as packing for your trip join your very long To-Do list.

You're on the phone with Bad as you both choose clothes to take, folding and packing them nicely. Making conversation, with Rat barking in the background occasionally, as the cherry on top.

Moments like these make you realize how good of a friend Badboyhalo is. He's kind, always knows what to say to help people feel better. He's funny, he's charming, full of love and support for his friends.

You two had been joking around on FaceTime for quite some time after you'd packed all essentials. He showed you tricks he'd managed to teach Rat, and you gave him an apartment tour.

Neither of you seemed to be getting tired, so you stayed on call until somehow you ended up sprawled on your sofa, laptop at hand, screen sharing YouTube videos. Bad was resting comfortably on his bed as small giggles left him at the absurdity of the videos you two were watching.

Every few minutes a small "We should do that," or a "Imagine Sapnap doing that," or a "I want to meet you all so bad," would be murmured into the air with only a hum of agreement to compliment it. It only made you yearn for your friends even more.

"Bad." You called out after quite a few random videos and lids getting heavier with each second.

"Yes?"

"When I see you, I'm gonna hug the shit out of you. I hope you know that." You said, small smile on your face as you watched his head lift up from the pillow at such a fast speed.

"Language-! But well, that would be nice. I will also be giving you tons of hugs. To all of you." He pauses for a second before continuing. "I was actually kinda nervous for the meetup, but now I'm just so excited."

"I'm really glad to hear that, Bad. I will make sure you enjoy yourself to the max."

"Thank you y/n," he replies softly, resting his head against the pillow again, "I will make sure you enjoy yourself too."

You smiled at the state he was in, you two would fall asleep in no time, so your thoughts were honestly incoherent, and your tongue could not be tamed as your thoughts wandered aimlessly.

"Do you think I can take Sapnap and Quackity in a fight? In case they try to beat me up?"

"I doubt they'll try to beat you up, they'll be too busy fighting each other, and he'll be too busy thinking about how cute you are." His words were slightly slurred at this point, and all you could do was laugh as you imagined a fight between Sapnap and Quackity as fans tried getting a picture with them.

It crossed your mind for half a second to ask who exactly would be thinking such a thing, but any sign of a functioning brain between you two was nonexistent at that very moment. So all you really said was, "Good. But I'm still going to be prepared just in case."

—

After so many excited calls and planning, the day was finally here. Everyone would be traveling out today to meet up at the house you'd all managed to rent for the week / weekend you guys would be staying there. This way, you'd all be able to maximize the time spent together, and also save money. It sounded like a wonderful idea, really.

After arriving in the city, you patiently waited for the driver that'd be taking you there. You couldn't help but realize just how anxious you were starting to feel. The moment when you'd meet all your friends was getting closer and closer. What if it wasn't everything you'd expected? Or if it was awkward?

The ride there was too quick. Before you knew it, you were pulling your luggage out the trunk and heading up the path that lead to the front door. You stood still for a few seconds before your knuckles were knocking against the firm wood. The noise echoing for a few seconds as you stood in anticipation.

The door swung open, and with a big grin, you were pulled into a hug by no other than Badboyhalo. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as well, not wanting to let go. He was finally here! And he was real! Real, so so real. Any concerns you had on the way here slowly dissipated the longer he had you in his warm hold.

"Bad!" You said happily, slightly squishing him as your embrace tightened for a few seconds. Seriously too good to be true, but true nonetheless.

As he finally pulled away to smile at you, you felt lightheaded at the insane rush of dopamine in your system. As your head finally cleared up, you realized someone else was walking towards you two.

He wore a small smile on his face as he approached, it slowly growing as he got closer and as excitement became harder and harder to contain.

"Quackity." You called out, face lighting up immediately at the sight of him.

"Hi." He responded, sheepish smile on his face. Had he always looked this good?

It only took a few steps before your arms were around him, pulling him close. Although your firm grip caught him off-guard, he managed to melt into the hug soon after, arms wrapping around you as well.

"Big Q! Quackity! Alex!" You smiled as you pulled away, hand reaching up to give his cheek a light squish. You couldn't really help yourself, he was just too pleasing for your eyes. If the dopamine from earlier wasn't already too much, having him this close and feeling oh so real was even more deadlier.

He laughed at your affectionate touch, obviously not having enough of you either. It didn't take long for him to pull you back in for another embrace. "Holy shit." he mumbled into the hug, "You're actually fucking here. I can't believe it y/n." His tone was soft and it had you melting into his embrace all over again. It was intoxicating in the best way, but eventually you both pull away, smiling at each other with so much appreciation.

You hadn't really taken into account just how excited you were to see all your friends, especially someone as important as Quackity. The one you told almost everything to during late night calls, the person you could honestly consider a best friend. All of them were that to you, but it just felt so much stronger with him. You didn't really know how to explain it.

Before you could even give your mind time to dwell, Quackity was being pulled off you by none other than Sapnap and Karl, which quickly replaced Quackity's arms with their own.

"Guys!!" You called out happily as you hugged them back just as tightly. "Am I really the last one here? Where's Dream, or George?"

"We've literally been waiting like an hour for you to get here! We were all getting impatient." Karl laughed as he finally pulled away from the hug.

"Seriously impatient." Mumbled Sapnap into your shoulder before letting go from the warm embrace. "What took so long?"

"Sorry that I don't live as close to here as you guys do. My flight took longer than expected too."

"Who cares! At least you're finally here." Dream's voice, followed by heavy footsteps on the floor, and laughter as George ran over to where you stood with your suitcase.

"Y/N!! We're all finally together." You almost closed your eyes instinctively from how bright his smile was. George's energy was so contagious, you couldn't help but return the energy he was giving you.

Finally, you turned to Dream, who was standing there in all his tall glory.

"Holy shit." You mumbled as you eyed him from head to toe. "You're so fucking tall."

Laughter erupted from everyone before big arms wrapped around you, filling you with warmth and love. You were finally here with all your friends, and it was better than you could've ever imagined.

"Okay," Karl announces once everyone had greeted each other and given all the much needed hugs, "We were actually thinking movie night so we can all just relax and enjoy each other's company. What do you think, y/n?"

"You aren't getting any complaints from me. What movie are we watching?"

At that, Karl and Sapnap raced off to see who could get the remote control faster. You assumed it was in regards to who had the power to choose what everyone watched.

You watched in amusement as Karl and Sapnap argued over what movie to watch, George chiming in here and there just to fuel the lighthearted argument.

"Did you think they'd be just as annoying in person?" You jumped slightly at the sudden voice coming from behind you, but quickly relaxed as Quackity stood beside you.

"No, I also didn't think it was such a big deal who got to choose the movie." Your eyes trailed back to the arguing pair.

"Oh hush. The food Dream ordered isn't even here so really we're doing you all a favor. Taking our time to choose wisely." Karl argued back, to which Dream laughed.

"I guess that's one way to see it, but it's almost here according to the app, so hurry up."

Silence, before the arguing resumed and filled the living room with a pleasing buzz.

You watched as Dream headed over to you and gently placed his hand onto your shoulder, "Let me show you where your room is so you can get all comfy before movie night starts, yeah?"

"Thank you, Dream. I'd actually really appreciate that." With that, you gave Quackity a small wave before following after Dream. Freshening up after sitting in a plane for hours would certainly help make the rest of the night 10x more pleasant.

—

Once you'd walked back out into the living room, you saw everyone had their plate of food, everyone already comfy in their spots.

You looked around before spotting the empty seat beside Alex and the plate of food you assumed was for you.

"Hurry! He's not gonna bite. Sit down so we can finally start movie night." Sapnap whined the longer you stood around.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that.." George mumbled before receiving a stiff elbow in the ribs from the person seated next to him.

"Language." The last fatal blow.

Dream chuckled before pointing at the available seat. "We even waited for you in order to start eating, so sit your ass down."

You playfully rolled your eyes as they all started complaining about how long you were taking. You sat down beside him, giving him a glance before picking up the plate of food before you. It was still nice and steamy, just like Dream had said it would be after dropping you off in your room. You hadn't realized just how hungry you were until now.

After taking a few bites and hearing the movie start, your gaze returned to the person peacefully sat next to you, taking a few seconds to truly take in the sight before you.

He was wearing a plain black short-sleeve shirt, and some basketball shorts. He looked so comfortable. And even indoors with friends, the beanie kept his hair away from his face and hidden, poorly, but hidden nonetheless.

You smiled as you got comfortable as well, admiring how the light from the TV illuminated his face before finally deciding to focus on the actual entertainment Karl and Sapnap had worked so hard to pick. All for movie night.

The movie was interesting, and you couldn't help the few times you almost choked on your food due to all the jokes being slipped in throughout the movie. Maybe Karl was right about how it takes time to pick the perfect film that fit the mood. A good laugh, some good food, and the company and comfort from friends was the best thing to do on the first day together.

Before you all knew it, you were 2 movies in and all in drowsy states.

Everyone excused themselves, the exception being George and Quackity whom had fallen asleep towards the end of the second movie. Dream agreed to wake George up, meanwhile you turned to the sleeping figure next to you.

He looked too cute, mouth slightly open from the uncomfortable position he'd fallen asleep in. You gently shook his shoulder. "Alex." You called out a few times, until finally his eyes fluttered open and he slowly looked around in confusion.

"You fell asleep during the movie. We're all heading to bed for the day, come on."

Regardless of his sleepy state, he stood and followed as you two headed to your rooms.

"Goodnight, Alex."

"Night, y/n."

As you finally laid in your bed for the next week, you couldn't help but feel so fortunate to have such a wonderful opportunity to meet all of your friends and share a home with them.

You couldn't wait to see what tomorrow had in store for you all.

—

It was a lazy morning and lazy afternoon the next day, the only exceptions being going out for lunch, but besides that everything was done in the comfort of their home.

Dream, Sapnap, and Karl were busy playing a multiplayer game in the living room while Bad, George, and Quackity messed around in the kitchen, eating snacks and making up the absolute dumbest shit to stay entertained.

It seemed difficult to choose which group to spend time with, but you found yourself headed towards the kitchen within seconds of contemplation. Sitting on a chair laughing at George's dumb jokes, egging Bad on, and laughing along to Quackity's contagious laughter.

You found yourself coincidentally seated beside Alex as you all continued to chat and mess around. After some time, the other three joined in, and dinner was ordered so they could all eat together after a long day of lazing around.

You'd all rented out the house for a few days before the convention in order to be able to enjoy more time together, so lazing around today hadn't really seemed like a waste of time, or like it could've been spent better. You'd definitely suggest actually going out for dinner rather than just ordering online for the rest of your stay though.

Before you knew it, chaotic dinner was over and people were headed straight to bed, a certain pair deciding to stay awake just a bit longer in the living room.

You rolled your eyes at their bullshit excuses before heading straight to your room. You quickly changed into sleepwear before sitting in bed and simply scrolling through social media. Honestly, you were tired but not to the point where you could easily doze off. Something felt like it was missing, and you silently racked your brain for answers while continuing the mindless scrolling on your phone.

About 30 minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door. Any distraction was welcome at this point, so you called out to let them know they could walk in.

Before you stood Alex, who seemed to be fresh out of the shower. He was in his sleepwear as well, but the beanie was nowhere in sight. His black hair was out in display, most likely to let it dry, but such a sight still had you in shock.

Not that you hadn't seen it before, but it always surprised you. No matter how many glimpses Quackity provided you with.

You stared in shock for a few seconds longer before snapping out of it and telling him to come in. He smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed.

"I couldn't sleep." He stated, before deciding to further explain. "I almost called you right now before going to bed.. I guess that's just how used I got to our calls-? But then I realized you're literally in the same house as me."

Ah. So was that what was missing? The reason why you couldn't doze off as easily? Because you weren't on call with him?

"That's true, I guess." You hummed before chuckling, "What's wrong with talking on the phone while we're here too?"

"You kidding? I'm not trying to be like Dream and Sapnap who still voice call and barely see each other even though they literally live together." You laughed at his comment, making him laugh as well at the absurdity of that situation.

"So what does that mean? You came to sleep here or something?" It was a joke, really. But I mean, why else would this dude be standing here by your door, talking about how he wanted to sleep call but instead found himself here.

"If you'd let me."

You almost choked at how easily he answered, was he joking too or was he actually expecting you to let him climb into bed? To sleep, of course, but it still had you taken-aback.

"You're serious?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

You stared at him for a bit before shrugging, "Get in then."

Nothing wrong with 'sleep calling' in person, right? Laying in the same bed, chatting until each other's voices lulled them to sleep. I mean, just because it was in person this time didn't make it any weirder. They'd slept on call together too many times to count. This was fine.

Alex smiled as he closed the door behind him and headed onto your bed, starting to get comfortable.

As you two lay there, you couldn't help but turn to your side and simply stare over at him. His hair to be exact. He'd never had it visible for this long, on group calls, normal calls, or just showing glimpses. It felt so surreal.

"What?" He mumbled.

"It's just- your hair. It looks so nice. You look nice." You smiled at the sight before adding, "You should do a hair reveal already so everybody can see this."

He turned to lay on his side as well so he could be facing you. "Hell no. Plus, doesn't it make you feel special? Being one of the few people who have seen it? Especially up close and personal."

The last part made you realize just how close you two had gotten within the last few seconds. Being at this proximity made you realize a lot more facial details you hadn't noticed before, probably due to camera quality and pixels.

Your hand slowly reached out, coming to a halt next to his head. He realized what you were trying to do and came a bit closer, letting your fingers gently run through his hair. After a few seconds, it all felt too natural.

There you were, laying in bed with Alex, gently playing with his dark locks as you talked about who knows what and simply enjoyed each others company.

This is basically what those late night calls felt like. Except this was definitely way better. It had the physical aspect of it that calls did not. You got to see him in such perfect resolution face to face, without worrying about any possible lag. You both were real. Basking in each others presences happily.

It didn't take too long for you both to fall asleep, and it didn't take too long either for your sleeping bodies to find comfort in the heat sources nearby.

What started as a simple arm draped around the other to steal a bit of body heat turned into having him close enough to smell the scent that lingered on him from his shower. Close enough for his grip on you to feel just a bit too intimate. Close enough where maybe their noses touched.

That was possibly the comfiest 9 hours of sleep either of them had gotten in a long fucking time.

—

The warmth you find yourself surrounded by makes it hard to get out of bed. As you attempt to fall back asleep, you realize that you're not tired. On the contrary, this might be the most satisfied (in terms of energy and sleep) you've felt in a long time.

What the fuck??

That's when that warmth you'd loved not even a minute ago comes to mind. At first you'd thought it might've been the blanket, but one glimpse to the side answers all your questions.

Alex was the one providing you with this comfortable and lovely warmth. He'd come over last night talking about 'sleep calling' in person. How could you forget?

The tension that had spiked in your body at the realization that someone was in bed with you oozed away as you looked at his peaceful state. He looked.. cute.

A few hair strands were on his face, and you couldn't help as your hand instinctively reached out to get them off his face. You hoped it wouldn't wake him up. He looked too peaceful.

As his face came into full view now, you openly stared, noticing the little moles he had all over his face. It was like stars splattered on the night sky.

As your gaze lowered and lingered on his lips, you realized just how pink they really were. And how unbelievably soft-looking they were. It brought you back a memory of his smile from yesterday while you both ate and watched the movie. You hadn't really caught the bit that had made him laugh since you were staring at him. He had a really pretty smile.

Your thoughts were interrupted at the realization that his eyelids had fluttered open, and were now staring up at you.

Oh God. You probably looked like such a creep right now. The heat that was rising up your spine and onto your cheeks must've been obvious, since he let out a small laugh.

"Were you enjoying the view?"

His morning voice took you by surprise. Sure, you'd heard it during calls sometimes, but this was on another level. It was wonderful.

"I was debating whether or not I should wake you up. You looked too peaceful." You answered, trying your best to steady your embarrassment. It wasn't necessarily a lie. He just didn't have to know all the other thoughts that crossed your mind.

He chuckled at that, before stretching a bit. "Thanks for letting me wake up on my own." He sat up, looking over at you with a small, satisfied smile. "That might've been the best sleep I've gotten in a while."

"Me too." You admitted, soft smile on your lips meant for him and him only. He stared back before returning the smile.

You two stayed in peaceful silence before deciding now was probably the best time to get up and get some breakfast with the rest of them. "We should get dressed so we can go eat."

He simply nodded before giving a small wave, heading back to his own room.

It didn't take long before you were heading out of your room and following the faint laughter into the kitchen. They were seated at the table, barely setting plates down and getting ready to eat. Just in time.

"Y/N! Good morning." Karl smiled, waving you over to the available seat beside him. Everybody else called out their good mornings as you got settled into your seat.

"Was wondering when you'd wake up." Sapnap mumbled from the seat across you. "You and Quackity sleep so fucking much."

You tensed a bit at that. Did they know you two had slept together? In the same bed? Had they tried waking you up and found you two together?

It's not what it looks like, is what you'd probably say as an explanation. Even if they didn't ask for one.

George nods in agreement, "Sapnap and I almost went and knocked on both of your doors. But we figured you both must be tired, so we just came to get breakfast ready."

Okay, perhaps they didn't know. Afterall, they were suggesting that Quackity was still in his own room. "I'm sure he'll get here in a bit." You responded, thanking Dream as he set a cup down on the table for you.

"Finally! Sleeping beauty chooses to come grace us with his presence." Sapnap greeted. You turned your head to see none other than Quackity flipping Sapnap off as he walked into the kitchen. He was dressed for the day, and had his hair hidden away with a beanie.

"How'd you sleep?" Bad asks as Alex finally sits down at the table.

"Wonderful. Best sleep I've gotten in a while." His eyes meet yours for a bit, and you can't help but smile at the implications of his words. You'd helped him sleep well. He felt comfy with you. He smiled back before looking back to the cup being given to him.

"Mm that's good." Bad nodded, before serving whatever breakfast him and Dream had managed to cook for everyone. Bad never failed to amaze you, talented as always.

"We were planning on going out today, is everyone up for it?" George asks, looking around the table for any signs of complaints.

"Honestly I'm all for it. I want to spend time with you all, exploring or just looking around." Sapnap answered, to which you cooed.

"Aww Sapnap, we'd love to spend time with you too."

"I'd fucking hope so. Now where did you want to go, George?"

"Dream and I were researching fun things to do here and we found a pretty good list. Just need you all to say yes and we can head out after breakfast."

He wasn't getting any no's, so the plans were set. Everybody ate their breakfasts before heading out the door to wherever Dream and George planned on taking them.

As you all walked to your destination, which wasn't too far according to George, you found yourself walking beside Bad.

"So, Quackity huh?" You ripped your eyes off from where they were to look back at him.

"Huh?"

"You and Quackity." He wasn't elaborating any further, which left you confused.

"What? What about him?"

"Well, you were staring at him right now and-"

"Oh. I zoned out, Bad. I'm sorry. Hopefully you didn't get the wrong idea." You interrupted him, letting out a small laugh.

"Well, that's not really what gave me the 'wrong idea'.. it was mainly the smiles and stares you two were giving each other this morning. And well, in general. Wanna fill me in on something?" He raised his brow, putting some space between you two and the rest of them by slowing his pace.

Your eyes widened slightly as you slowed down as well. "He was staring at me?"

He nodded, before adding "As much as you were staring at him."

You opened your mouth to try and explain yourself, before you heard Dream calling out to you two, saying they found the place. You gave Bad an apologetic smile before walking with him to where the others stood.

You'd come to a place with food, alcohol, and arcade games. You couldn't have expected less from Dream and George. It was perfect for this group.

You watched as Karl and George bought the cards you'd all be using to play the games. Soon after, they came back and handed everyone their card. Everyone was ready to split off to play different games.

"Y/N and I are going to fetch a table so we can leave our stuff there." Bad said with a smile. You looked over at him knowingly before nodding in agreement.

The rest of them nodded, Sapnap grabbing Dream's arm and racing off with him to the games. Karl, George, and Quackity went off to another game, excited chatter following them.

You walked beside Bad in search of a table quietly, watching as he looked around before finally approaching a table big enough to seat you all.

He sat down, looking at you expectantly. You did the same and cleared your throat as his gaze remained on you. You let out a small sigh.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." He smiled a bit at that. "I mean, he came to my room last night, said he couldn't sleep, and then we slept together. That's it."

You watched as his eyes widened slightly at the information he'd just gotten before your own eyes widened.

"Wait- no no! Not like that. I meant he literally slept with me. Like we fell asleep together." You could feel the heat rushing up to your face. "He said he got used to our sleep calling and I just let him sleep in my bed. It was really comfy."

You looked up, his stunned face making the heat rise faster. "Woah. I thought the cheeky little glances you guys were giving each other was things starting to get good, but you already shared a bed with him??" He let out an amused laugh.

"It's not that big of a deal, Bad. We sleep call all the time.." You felt sort of embarrassed, hearing his reactions and telling him things that felt more intimate than they should be.

"Uh? Not a big deal?? You're kidding right?" He let out a laugh, happy smile on his face. "You guys like each other!"

"Bad-! Keep it down please.. and we certainly do not." You were sweating at this point, Bad was so energetic and happy right now, and the thought of Alex hearing any of this had you on edge.

But the most discomforting part of it all was how much truth his words held. Did you actually like him?

"Am I lying, y/n?"

I don't know, is what you would've said, if it wasn't for the confusion clouding all your senses.

"y/n?"

You looked over at him, mouth slightly open, trying to form your thoughts. "You really think I like him?"

"I mean, I've been having a feeling. Since before the meet up."

What? Was it obvious for everyone? How had it taken this long for you to realize it? Those intrusive thoughts while you were staring at him this morning in bed. Had those always been there? Was he aware of your possible feelings?

"Holy fuck, Bad. A lot of it is starting to make sense." Your eyes were slightly wide from the fear of what this implied. What this meant for your friendship with him. "I-I think I do like him."

He seemed to notice how tense and shocked you looked, so he reached out and held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

At the moment, you were connecting all the pieces, and things were slowly starting to make sense. Why you acted a certain way around him, random thoughts thinking he was cute, the need to meet him as soon as possible. God, why had it taken so long for you to realize?

"I mean, at least you ended up liking a nice muffin, right?" It sounded more like a question, which had you letting out a laugh. "What I mean is that he's a good guy, liking him isn't horrible. I can see why you'd end up liking him. Plus- I think everyone can see you two are pretty close."

His words helped ease the tension building up in your shoulders, but your head was still spinning. "I know he's nice, but in what sense? As in, I'll confess and he'll reject me nicely?" You paused, tensing up at just the thought of how awkward that would be. "I'd hate to ruin our friendship just because my dumbass caught feelings."

"Language." He mumbles, before letting out a small sigh. "He's nice as in he'll be understanding if he DOES reject you. But did you miss the last part of my speech? I said your friendship with Quackity is very different, anyone can tell you guys are really close. I can see where these feelings might've come from."

"Just because we're close doesn't excuse me having feelings for him. I mean, what does that say about me? Unable to have close friends without growing romantic feelings for them?" Your voice sounds hushed, as if it's dangerous to admit your feelings out loud.

"I'd say we're close friends, do we have romantic feelings for each other?" He asks softly, playing with your fingers absent-mindedly.

"I mean, I love you tons."

"I love you too, but it's not in the way you like Quackity, right?"

You kept quiet, gently biting at the inside of your cheek. Your brain was looking for ways to invalidate your feelings, tell you it wasn't right, but Bad was fighting through that and trying to reason with you.

"We both love all of our friends, and are really close to them.. but what you and Quackity have is different. I can see why you ended up liking him. Plus.. I really don't think he'd reject you. In fact, I think he likes you too."

"Bad." You warned, unsure you could handle overthinking the possibility that he liked you too right now. The realization of your own feelings was already too much.

"I'm just saying." He says, raising both hands in playful surrender. The sight elicits a small laugh from you.

But maybe.. maybe you were a bit curious. "You really think so?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. Plus, this is coming from someone who's been friends with both of you for a very long time. I see and notice things."

"Thank you, Bad. I really appreciate you and just‐ thanks for talking this through with me." It's honest and raw. He'd watched you sit at this table, trying to work everything out in your brain, and had just been endlessly supportive.

"Of course. I'm here if you need anything, alright? Now, just relax and let's go play some games, yeah?"

"Okay.. let's go!" You smiled and tugged at his hand, leading him over to where Sapnap and Dream were playing.

There was no way you were letting your own feelings ruin the fun of good food and some arcade games. You'd deal with that later.

—

Bad's advice and pep talks are top tier, but sometimes he oversteps. He doesn't mean any harm, but at times it is just too much. This is one of those times.

There's just a few days left before the big convention, and honestly the time spent together so far has been an absolute bliss. And well-spent considering you've all been out and about more often.

You find yourself in the living room with all of them, joking around and making up stupid songs while Quackity plays a beat he claimed to have made himself on his phone. It's peaceful, and no joke is taken too far. Until Bad starts trying to be the 'best wingman', as he likes to claim.

"Quackity, you should write a song for them, and perform it here in front of everyone." He says as he nudges you suggestively, a knowing smile on his face. It's so sudden and you need to make sure you heard correctly. You can feel yourself tense up at the thought of Quackity making a song dedicated to you. Specifically you. No one else.

Of course, it comes off as a joke, but since Bad knows you like Quackity it just seems way more personal. It seems like he's making it so obvious, but maybe everyone else is painfully oblivious. Clueless.

"Wow Bad. You just want him to roast the shit out of me, don't you? That's messed up." You make a noise of disappointment, trying your best to sound calm and collected.

George laughs at that, "Wowww Bad, that's pretty messed up. But you should, Quackity. Make one about Y/N and their muffins. It'll be funny." George didn't know a thing, but it felt like he was making it worse. As if there was a specific reason why they teased him into making a song about you.

With the playful cheering of everyone around him, he cleared his throat and a new beat started to play on his phone. Before you knew it, he was singing about your fictional muffins and how he would order a dozen, and found a way to include Rat slander in there as well.

Maybe you were stressing out for no reason at all. Perhaps you were the only one taking it weirdly and everyone else was just joking around making stupid songs up on the spot. You took a deep breath, and began to relax.

As the night continued, you tried to avoid any possible spotlight, focusing on getting George and Sapnap to go at each other, and the others egging them on so all you really had to do was watch the chaos ensue. It would all just lead to Sapnap calling the rest of them out and starting more playful fights.

As arguments kept coming up, the one you'd all been talking about on that one stream came to mind.

"Wait.. we still haven't done that height check between Quackity and Sapnap." Karl said with a shocked laugh. "How many days have we been together exactly?"

"Too long." Dream chimed in, eager to see the short people fighting over height they didn't have. At least not compared to him.

"Oh yeah huh." Sapnap said in realization. "Stand the fuck up right now, Quackity." He stood to his full height, puffing up his chest to try and appear taller or bigger.

Quackity rolled his eyes, "You guys only brought that up because I was clearly beating you guys in that argument."

"Okay? Stand up then."

If you were a person passing by hearing this conversation, you'd think a brawl was about to break out. Maybe you'd call security. But having context, it really was just Sapnap in his arguing mood, petty and trying to prove a point. There was no way he was sitting down until he proved he was taller than Quackity.

A small grumble of disapproval left Quackity's mouth before he stood to full height. Bad walked over and lead Quackity towards Sapnap, telling them to stand back to back so everyone could see the height difference.

You sat there in anticipation as Bad got them set up, watched as they compared heights very carefully, watched as the results were announced, and watched as Sapnap cheered and screamed some shit in Quackity's face when it turned out he was a few inches taller than Alex.

To make things funnier, Dream walked over in amusement and checked their height difference himself, making the other two look so much smaller than they already did. It was always a pleasant shock seeing just how tall Dream was compared to the average person.

This lead to height checks between all of them, trying to figure out who was the tallest (easy) and who was the shortest.

After everyone had gotten tired from the playful arguments and day they had, they began leaving to their rooms to freshen up or get comfy, probably needing a break from the banter.

Dream, George, and Karl had agreed to go pick up something to eat while the rest of you guys stayed in the living room. Just chatting now, relaxing, no height wars or petty arguments. Kinda.

"By the way, I found this one cool shop with a bunch of anime stuff. You're coming with me to check it out, right?" Sapnap asks, breaking the peaceful silence that surrounded you all while scrolling on your phones.

You looked up in confusion, not sure who he was talking to. His eyes met yours, and he gave you a look that said he was waiting for your response. "You wanna go with me?" You ask, a bit shocked since you'd expect him to go with Karl or something.

"Duh. We could look through the whole shop and see what we can find. Maybe go eat afterwards." He explains with a smile. He seems excited, and his energy is just so contagious, you can't help but smile as well.

"Well, since we're all here I'm assuming we're invited as well. Right, Sapnap?"

It's Quackity, inserting himself into the conversation, eyebrows raised and lawyer voice on, ready to fight Sapnap on this. This earns him a scoff from Sapnap.

"Don't think you'll wanna come with us. I know it's not really your thing."

"Sapnap, I'm sure he can join. Don't you see he's pouting? Plus, I'm sure food will cheer the baby up." You tease, watching as Quackity's facial expression changes into a scowl.

"Yeah right. Plus, it's rude to ask them out in front of Bad and I. We're literally their plus twos."

Bad snorts. "Plus twos? He's definitely not letting us tag along now."

Sapnap nods. "You literally have so many other days you can spend with them. Let me have my moment. Ask them out yourself if you want later."

You stiffen at the implication he's making, unable to stop the confused frown that appears on your face.

"Whatever." Quackity mumbles, before quickly switching the conversation to his beanie and what he should do to stop fans from snatching it off his head.

The topic of conversation is interesting, and quite frankly very funny, but you can't help but focus on Sapnap's comment.

Surely, he meant no harm. But you can't help the feeling that your little secret you'd shared with Bad was growing more noticeable. And if Sapnap knew? How long would it take for Quackity to realize and push you away?

"Y/N?"

You blink away your state of confusion as you refocus on the conversation. "Huh?"

"I said, how does superglue sound? For his beanie and stuff." Bad had been calling out to you, trying to reinvite you into the conversation. Apparently, you'd been quiet for a while.

"You're such an asshole, Bad. You just want to see me bald so bad." Quackity huffed.

"Not true! Also language."

Bittersweet. Your own thoughts were ruining the fun conversation your friends were having. How to answer this without seeming too obvious? Not like a pining idiot?

"I mean, so what if your hair falls out? The beanie will cover it. It's worth it."

"Plus," adds Sapnap, "your fans have been saying you're bald anyway. Prove them right."

"You're all no help to me and my problems." Quackity finally mutters, earning a laugh from the three of you.

His problems. You wouldn't wanna add another by making him have to deal with a friend trying to get out of the friend zone. You really need to get your feelings in check.

Honestly, you need to get better at hiding this shit. You can't just keep going quiet or getting lost in thought whenever someone suggests anything NOT platonic between you and Alex. I mean, it's ridiculous at this point. Bad is giving you stares, Sapnap might know by now, George might know. Hell, maybe even Quackity knows.

Too much. As soon as the others get back, you excuse yourself and call it a day.

—

Sapnap had been serious about going to that Japanese shop. He'd woken you up early, made you get dressed, and was dragging you out the house before the others could bat an eyelid.

Honestly? You'd had a lot of fun. Watching him look through all the items, picking out everything he wanted, getting matching plushies and these tiny figurines that ended up being too fucking expensive for their size. He'd been so happy, you even offered to pay for his meal in exchange for what he'd bought you earlier.

Throughout your adventures with Sapnap, you received a few notifications from Quackity, asking what you guys were up to, when you'd be back, and whether Sapnap was forcing you to stay over there with him. Sapnap and you rolled your eyes at that last bit, sending him a picture of you two flipping off the camera. All jokes, of course, and in return you received a picture of Quackity doing the same. Then he began claiming that you guys could stay there all day for all he cared.

"Seems like someone is jealous." Sapnap had said after reading Quackity's messages. You looked over at him in surprise before he quickly pocketed your phone, dragging you along to a new section of the store he'd wanted to check out.

Did Sapnap really think so? Could there be a chance Alex actually liked you, like Bad had suggested?

Beside your overthinking, the day had been well-spent, and by the time you got home, you were ready to get out of your outside clothes and into your PJs.

As you finally walked out into the living room, you watched with an amused smile as Sapnap sat with the rest of them, showing them everything he had bought at the shop, including little gifts he'd brought for them all.

No matter how 'careless', he came across, Sapnap was truly a softie. It was endearing watching him hand out the gifts you two had bought at the shop.

You made your way over to the couch, sitting beside Quackity and giving him a smile as he raised his brow. "Don't think I forgot that picture you sent me earlier today."

"You know I didn't mean it." You mumbled as you returned your gaze to Sapnap and his cheerful smile.

"You owe me an apology. And you need to make it up to me."

You scoffed at that, "You flipped me off too."

"And? You did it first. I'm the injured party here."

"Fine." You sighed, turning you gaze back at him. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Mmm.. how about we 'sleep call' again?" You froze at his suggestion, looking over at the others to see if they were listening in on your conversation.

They weren't, all too entranced with the small rant Bad was going on about a certain manga Sapnap had bought.

How could this man just admit that you two slept together with his whole chest. Without a care in the world for who was listening.

"Is that really all you want?" Stunned was the only word to truly describe how you were feeling at the moment.

"I mean, for now. I'll have to see tomorrow if I feel any better."

You rolled your eyes at that. He would most likely take advantage of that and drag it on for as long as he could. "Did you really miss me that much, Alex? Need to make up for the time lost today?"

"Wow. You're trying to make me look desperate now?"

"I just think that's how an outsider listening in on our conversation would interpret it."

"Y'know what? Let's go right now. Since you wanna call me desperate."

Again. Stunned. How was this man acting like it was nothing? This shit wasn't normal. Last time wasn't too bad because you didn't know, but now? You'd be too focused on not making it seem romantic, just purely platonic laying on the same bed together with your friend who you don't have feelings for.

It didn't take long for everyone to start heading to their rooms. He excused himself, and you followed a few minutes after, heading to your room in a daze.

As you waited for him to come to your room, you couldn't help but wonder if it'd be the same as last time. Would you be able to play with his hair or cuddle close in a strictly platonic way? Maybe you could call him bro a few times so it didn't seem like you liked him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and revealing him in all his glory. He looked so comfy, and the beanie was once again nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps you were overreacting, but you felt this was his way of letting you know he trusted you. That he was truly comfortable around you.

This time, he felt more at ease entering your personal space. He got into bed and got comfy on his own. It didn't take long before he was facing you again, just like last time.

You smiled at him and did the same as him, your previous plans of putting distance and calling him bro getting thrown out the window at this new sight of him.

He looked so cute, just laying there and looking at you. He looked so warm too, you couldn't wait until you actually got to pull him close and blame it on your sleepy state.

"So," he started, "how was your date with Sapnap?"

Huh? The tone really caught you off guard.

"It wasn't a date. We just went to look at some manga he wanted, and got little gifts for everyone. Went to eat."

"Sounds like a date."

You narrowed your eyes at him. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Well, it wasn't. Why does it matter to you though?"

"It doesn't."

"Then?? You jealous or something?" You raised a brow, genuinely confused, but also wanting to see his reaction to the last bit. Maybe it'd give you some insight on his feelings for you. If there was any.

"I'm just making sure! Sue me for trying to respect anything that could possibly be going on between you two." He paused. "I wouldn't want to be asking you to sleep with me and then it turns out you and Sapnap are a thing."

You paused and simply stared at him. Was this dude serious? He was worried about you and Sapnap dating, when in reality you liked HIM? Sick and twisted.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. Sapnap and I aren't a thing. I like someone else." You answered, and honestly you don't know why you said that.

He paused for a bit, expression unreadable before simply nodding. "And is it possible to know who this someone is??"

How did you end up in this position? It wasn't that long ago that you were confessing to Bad about your feelings for Alex while surrounded by fucking arcade games. And now you were in bed with him while he asked who your crush was. Leave it to you to mess up this badly.

You took a few more moments to just lay there with him, hand eventually going to his hair and gently playing with it. "I don't want to ruin anything." You finally responded.

It was the truth. You could just tell him, but you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if your revelation lead to him growing distant, or him rejecting you and ruining the rest of the trip.

At that, he sat up, making your hand slip out from where it had been playing with his hair. "Are you afraid you'll hurt my feelings?"

You sat up as well, staring at him for a bit before shaking your head. "I'm afraid you'll hurt mine."

"I wouldn't dare." He said reassuringly, hand reaching out to intertwine with yours.

It might've been the adrenaline rushing through your body, or the pessimist in you just telling you to get over with it, but you sat there and confessed that you liked him.

At first, there wasn't much of a response beside his wide eyes and stunned smile. You didn't necessarily know what that meant. Was he on the verge of laughter or was he shocked because he liked you as well?

The silence was killing you, and you swear you could feel tears threatening to spill as he continued to just stare. Nothing could've possibly been worst than his silence at that moment.

"You really do like me? Me, Alex Quackity?" Were his first words, and you watched as he shook his head, as if he was trying to make sense of it all.

"I don't expect you to feel the same or-"

"No no. You like me?"

He was trying to get you to repeat it, or admit it again, but it was torture.

"... I do."

He smiled at that, coming closer and using his free hand to cup your cheek. "Yeah? Well, it's your lucky day because.. I like you too."

You really couldn't believe what you were hearing. Bad had been right about him liking you as well. If he found out, he'd brag about being right and being the 'best wingman' for so long.

"Seriously?" It never hurt to double check.

"Yeah."

And with that, the distance between you two was closed. Soft lips pressed against each other awkwardly at first, not used to kissing your best friend, but it soon melted into a sweet first kiss.

After he pulled away, you gently cupped his cheeks as well, smiling at just how unbelievable this was. The guy you'd been unknowingly pining for this whole time actually liked you back, and you'd just kissed him on your bed. Bonus: he was staying the whole night for some cuddles.

You laid back down, pulling him with you and simply wrapped your arms around him, leaving small and shy kisses on his cheek, not used to this at all, testing what was okay and what wasn't. But his smile and kisses he was giving you as well told you he was more than fine with this.

"Does this make up for it?" You mumble against his own lips, teasing tone evident.

"Yes, yes it does."

—

The next morning was when the countdown finally came to an end. The day you'd all been waiting for; The Convention.

You knew this meant getting up, eating breakfast, and starting to get ready. It was a big day.

But when Quackity wanted to lay down for just a bit longer, how could you possibly say no?

This lead to you both having to walk out of your room and head straight to the kitchen 15 minutes later. There was no time to waste by pretending to have come out of your own rooms and at different times.

As you both approached the dinner table and sat down, you realized the table was dead silent, all eyes on both of you.

You looked up, making eye contact with Bad. He had this knowing grin on his face, and you couldn't help it as you felt the heat rushing up to your face. Quackity seemed unfazed by it all, simply yawning and beginning to eat his breakfast.

"So did it work or what?" Sapnap broke the silence, an expectant look on his face as he stared between you and Quackity.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, now feeling very confused.

Bad couldn't hold in his laughter any longer, and burst out into happy giggles.

"Well we were trying to make Alex get jealous so he could finally make a move. Did he do it?" Sapnap asked. Karl was smiling wide, trying to cover it with the sleeve of his sweater.

Did this mean that Karl, Sapnap, and Bad all knew you two liked each other? Had these three plotted this shit? Getting you two to realize your own feelings?

"What? You did that shit on purpose?" It was Quackity's turn to be dumbfounded.

"Duh. We figured we'd give you guys a little push in the right direction." Sapnap had a satisfied smile on his face.

You couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Your friends had worked together to make you both come to terms with your feelings. Since you two were so oblivious. Wow.

"I hate to say it since it means you actually helped,,, but it did work. We talked last night and well.. we both confessed." There was a soft smile on his lips as he told the others about what had happened.

Bad let out a small cheer, clapping his hands excitedly before congratulating you both on talking out your feelings.

"Okay now that the lovebirds are finally together, let's finish breakfast and start getting ready. Remember today is a big day!" Dream said, sounding quite excited himself.

You'd honestly forgotten for a few minutes because of the whiplash of your friends confessing they were playing cupid.

Today was the convention. The whole reason you'd all traveled out here. This whole trip had been lovely, leading up to the final event.

And you'd be leaving with a date, and good memories spent with fans and friends.

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memeingovermemes · 2 years ago

Text

the blackout club -- sentence starters ( i ) :

feel free to change titles / pronouns / places where appropriate !

❝ how much damage could children do? ❞ ❝ he cannot know. his family cannot know. ❞ ❝ it can be saved... after it is caught. ❞ ❝ surrender! and she will be... kind. ❞ ❝ report: the song is weak here. ❞ ❝ a little noise? ❞ ❝ children! she hears you now. ❞ ❝ he knows this game. he always wins. ❞ ❝ it is a child... they will not believe... give up. ❞ ❝ he will find, he will forgive! ❞ ❝ how long can it hold its breath? ❞ ❝ the fear it feels... can be cured... ❞ ❝ the song is mercy. there are worse things in the dark! ❞ ❝ too loud! not one of us! ❞ ❝ voice? he found nothing, but judgement is yours. ❞ ❝ why hide from the love of a god? ❞ ❝ a joke at his expense? no one will tell him, as usual. ❞ ❝ gone. the voice must be told. ❞ ❝ she has other duties. but she knows what it did! ❞ ❝ his insecurities! warping the song. unacceptable. ❞ ❝ these wayward children... are they even real? ❞ ❝ add your voice to the song! ❞ ❝ but it is safe! why run? ❞ ❝ it is outnumbered. nowhere to go! ❞ ❝ let her take your pain! ❞ ❝ now we know! now we know! ❞ ❝ they cannot outrun a dream! ❞ ❝ this is love without the lie! ❞ ❝ angel. he hears a wayward lamb. ❞ ❝ she warns you. the angel knows. ❞ ❝ yes. stay there. await the angel. ❞ ❝ let go, child. ❞ ❝ come home. ❞ ❝ i have you... now. ❞ ❝ and they shall play, side by side. ❞ ❝ like us, now. ❞ ❝ the angel awaits. ❞ ❝ the voice... will know of -- this! ❞ ❝ angel... we submit! ❞ ❝ the wrath is come. what have they done? ❞ ❝ dead. he cannot... he does not...! ❞ ❝ rise! please! she needs you! ❞ ❝ yes? ...new music? ❞ ❝ he was not chosen, after all. ❞ ❝ it teases her. why? ❞

❝ as the world sleeps, i... talk to myself. and frankly, i'm delightful. ❞ ❝ getting some background static here... could those ridiculous children have their own cell tower? ❞ ❝ i did miss dreaming, at first. but the other night, i heard the voice repeating my words with countless mouths... that is the dream. ❞ ❝ and i knew. it was all real. ❞ ❝ i should check the sonic fence, but -- i loathe it. ❞ ❝ maybe... my body remembers being a sleeper. such pain. ❞ ❝ i want a transfer. maybe the woods. we have eyes on the highway... state border too.. do we have any hyper-vigilant hermits? ❞ ❝ lots of hours blend together, but 5am has merits. you go home, lie next to her, and... well, pretend to sleep anyway. ❞ ❝ no, ma'am, i did not meet any magical youth gangs tonight. ❞ ❝ please, no red doors tonight. i always forget someone i know in there or... remember someone i don't. ❞ ❝ qui-et. but hey, that's why we moved here. it's not the national radio party zone. ❞ ❝ there's no way that my daughter's involved with that... 'club'. she tells me everything... ❞ ❝ they say that the... shape you can't see, got her. i wonder what it... does to them? ❞ ❝ we're actively expected to think aloud, right? ❞ ❝ ...well, i don't love that we're hunting down kids, even just to detain them. don't care if they are quote unquote 'dangerous'. ❞ ❝ anyone else hear...? ❞ ❝ gone, not my affair now. ❞ ❝ heeeeeyy. ❞ ❝ hel-looo, kiddo! ❞ ❝ hey, we can do it this way, i've got all night. or, there's cocoa and a blanket, your call! ❞ ❝ how did they do that? ❞ ❝ i can hear you, kids! ❞ ❝ if someone's here, come out! ❞ ❝ i grew up here too, pal! i know what alone feels like! there are options! ❞ ❝ i know how you feel! we can fix that together! ❞ ❝ i know your parents, okay! in ways you don't. and they want you home safe! ❞ ❝ i'll find you, then we'll talk. ❞ ❝ i saw that! ❞ ❝ is it the possession thing? we all have doubts, but our god can be measured, champ! it's in you, too! ❞ ❝ is someone playing with me? ❞ ❝ is that you, kid? ❞ ❝ it's that damn kid! ❞ ❝ keep making noise, pal! very helpful. ❞ ❝ lotta' noise there, kids! ❞ ❝ no! i did not lose you! i... ❞ ❝ no one cares like we do, okay! ❞ ❝ no sleeper is that loud. ❞ ❝ not gonna condescend here, you're a smart kid with some duuumb friends, but i can help. ❞ ❝ okay, hide! we're your teachers, maybe your family... nowhere to go. ❞ ❝ okay, kid. hard way it is. ❞ ❝ sound the horns, old boy. the hunt is on. ❞ ❝ so you are one of them... ❞ ❝ so you like to be chased? fine. ❞ ❝ they were right here! ❞ ❝ those other kids... they don't care if you get hurt! we do. ❞ ❝ unbelieveable. ❞ ❝ was that a test? ❞ ❝ what are you? 14? 15? you can turn this thing around! ❞ ❝ who's in here? ❞ ❝ you can hide from me... but not from them. ❞ ❝ you got a brother, sister maybe? they know you're out here? maybe i can talk to them... ❞ ❝ hey, kids? bottom line, we don't care about THINGS. we care about you. ❞ ❝ really? we're just letting these vandals get away? ❞ ❝ this looks deliberate. we'll just call you 'exhibit a'. ❞ ❝ toddlers get frustrated, they break things. and you kids? you need a lit-tle nap. ❞ ❝ you're young -- destruction is in your blood. i get it. let's talk! ❞ ❝ damn kids have me shaking. ❞ ❝ fine, but if i catch you again, i'll... (sighs). ❞ ❝ my own echo. idiot. ❞ ❝ no one. i thought... it was that invisible... thing. ❞ ❝ nothing. i should report myself. i'm officially a risk. ❞ ❝ report: hallucinations worse. if i could sleep, i'd... do that. ❞ ❝ working too long, i guess... yeah. back to it. ❞ ❝ come back, sport! i just wanna' talk! ❞ ❝ don't run, bud! you could get hurt. ❞ ❝ hey, come shake my hand! ❞ ❝ let me take you home! ❞ ❝ it doesn't have to hurt! ❞ ❝ i know how you feel! we can fix that together! ❞ ❝ it's okay! you won't remember this! ❞ ❝ we are trying to help you! ❞ ❝ where ya' going? gets mighty cold in the woods, kiddo! ❞ ❝ where you going? i'm on your side! ❞ ❝ yes, let's run. find your friends together! ❞ ❝ you're hurting, but you don't have to! ❞ ❝ you're in trouble, bud. let's get you out! ❞ ❝ you are smarter than this! just stop! ❞ ❝ hello, ma'am? yes. they're here. send it... ❞ ❝ ma'am. we have them treed. do you happen to know a man with an axe? ❞ ❝ sir. please send it here. it is needed. they're beyond our reach. ❞ ❝ we need the uh... the big guns. yes. my position. ❞ ❝ ah-aahh, you're slipping. ❞ ❝ come home. ❞ ❝ it's okay... it's okay. ❞ ❝ i've got one! ❞ ❝ let's go, child. ❞ ❝ ey-ey. look at me. we're friends, right? yes. ❞ ❝ it's better this way... ❞ ❝ it's fine! you're not in trouble. you're home. ❞ ❝ let me take allll that pain, okay, pal? ❞ ❝ look at my eyes. right there. good. ❞ ❝ shhh there, there. lucky little one. ❞ ❝ there, isn't that more relaxing? 'course it is. ❞ ❝ you're going to feel so much better. ❞ ❝ you're safe, champ. it's alllll fine now. ❞ ❝ how long -- can you -- keep this up...?! ❞ ❝ get off me! ❞ ❝ i will get free! ❞ ❝ you can't do this! ❞ ❝ help me find them. we need a full sweep. ❞ ❝ here it comes, here it comes... don't look. ❞ ❝ i'm loyal. the voice knows. please don't hurt me. ❞ ❝ SPEAK-AS-ONE. SPEAK-AS-ONE. SPEAK-AS-ONE. ❞ ❝ they're here. kids, yes, but dangerous. c'mon. ❞ ❝ we are the eyes, they are the voice... and you are the hand. ❞ ❝ well, kids... i hope it's quick. ❞ ❝ how could this happen? ❞ ❝ how! ...murderers. these children are murderers. ❞ ❝ no, i'm so sorry. i should have been vigilant. i... ❞ ❝ they killed one of us. they actually... they... ❞ ❝ voice, as your humble host, i try to be strong, but don't our bodies... matter? ❞ ❝ a call? now? ❞ ❝ huh, strange time for this. ❞ ❝ hello? is that you, ma'am? ❞ ❝ how are they getting these numbers? ❞ ❝ idiocy. time to fire our crypto people. ❞ ❝ i'll find you, kid. we'll laugh together. ❞ ❝ what in the blue hell is that shit? ❞

#rp memes #roleplay memes #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #the blackout club #the blackout club sentence starters #death mention tw #swearing tw #emotional manipulation tw #brainwashing tw #violence tw #grief tw #death tw #ask to tag //#long post

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xocasper · 3 years ago

Note

omg since requests are open, I’m literally begging for some Ray content, like maybe teasing a reader that has a praise kink

Patience Is a Virtue

Pairing: Ray Toro x Reader Summary: After a long day of waiting, you finally have alone time with Ray. Patience isn't your strong suit, but he believes you can last a little bit longer. Warnings: NSFW content Tags: praise kink, oral sex, teasing Word Count: 2226 A/N: I got covid, collapsed at work, and writer's block in the span of two weeks. Not sure what I did to deserve this, but I think it's over. People are always telling me to stop threatening to kill the Queen because it's bad karma--I think they were right. Sorry Elizabeth. Anyway, this is my first request so I hope it's alright!

Bright lights illuminated the stage of a dingy bar, currently inhabited by your boyfriend’s band. You watched intently as he played, tuning out the rest of the room as he held your attention. Typically you wouldn’t be as hyper-focused, but Ray had made your day incredibly difficult, and the sly grins he was sending you weren’t helping.

It started out simple; you woke up earlier than usual this morning and decided to make breakfast. Ray quickly noticed your absence, eyes fluttering open as the smell of pancakes wafted into the bedroom. Sure enough, you were standing at the stove, humming quietly while you listened to his heavy footfalls, leaning into his touch as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Morning,” he mumbled, resting his head on yours while he watched you. You stayed like that for a few minutes, his hands stroking your sides before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. A comfortable silence filled the air, sleep still hanging heavy over the two of you.

You handed him a plate and he looked at you, surprised although he’d been hoping you were making extras. “You’re too good to me,” he grinned, pressing his lips to yours. It was a sweet kiss despite the way his hands drifted up your nightshirt, pulling away as you tried to deepen it. You leaned up again only for him to turn away, pretending to ignore you.

“C’mon,” you huffed, but he just looked at you, eyebrows raised as he tried to hide his smile. The rest of breakfast was mundane, and you talked about your plans for the day while he gazed at you, eyes trailing up your figure as if he was trying to fluster you—which he was.

This didn’t stop while you were getting ready for work, either. He had a ball telling you how pretty you looked, planting soft kisses on your lips that were far too short for your liking. You had to leave soon, and you were getting a bit impatient with Ray. He knew this, of course, walking to the front door with you, now gripping your waist and tugging you flush against his chest. He shot you a smile rather than kissing you, finding his ideas much more fun than yours. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, close enough that you could just…

But he pulled away again. An involuntary whine escaped you as he laughed to himself, ushering you out the door and ignoring your desperation for something real. You knew very well that the night would end in your favor, but ‘patience is a virtue’ always sounded like bullshit to you.

You could hardly focus for the rest of the day, your mind clouded with silent promises which only made time move slower. Ray had a gig tonight too, which meant sitting in a grimy bar while he performed with the band, shining under cheap lights while he shamelessly eye-fucked you from the stage. Typically you loved watching him perform, but at the moment you were too needy to even think about sitting through the show.

When your shift was over, he was no longer home, off with the rest of the guys preparing for their gig. You had just enough time to eat and shower before you had to leave, the reality of how busy your schedule was setting in. Usually you’d be exhausted by now, but adrenaline and anticipation coursed through your veins as you drove off to the bar, always excited to watch him play; you were his biggest supporter, and he made sure to show his appreciation at the end of the night.

The gig started out fine; Ray was concentrating on playing, but as he relaxed, his attention went to you, trying not to laugh at how focused you were. It made him feel special, knowing that you, of all people, were watching him so closely, looking up at him like he’d hung the moon. He wanted to make you feel special too, staring back at you like a lovesick puppy while he thought of all the wonderful things he’d do to you after the show.

It was a good thing he knew the songs so well, otherwise he would’ve been fucked sideways. By the end of the show he was visibly flushed, mind having wandered off ages ago, the only coherent thought being you. He had spent at least half the show with his eyes locked on you, intoxicated by your presence.

“Dude, are you good?” Frank asked as their set ended, standing on his toes and pressing a hand to Ray’s forehead. “What?” he responded, snapping out of his trance to smack his friend’s hand away. “I’m fine, thanks.”

Frank scoffed and followed his line of sight, eventually spotting you in the dark room, ogling at his friend. His concern turned into a fit of laughter, slapping Ray on the back as he walked off, shouting something indecipherable; not that it mattered to either of you right now, you could be embarrassed about it another time.

The air was chilly as you met Ray out back, a stark contrast to the warmth flowing through you. He was coated in a thin layer of sweat, curls tousled and practically glowing in the moonlight. Frank had probably already told the band where he’d be–in vivid detail, no doubt–so there was no reason to wait any longer. He had the same thought, picking up where he left off earlier by kissing you passionately, hands pulling you tight against him.

“Hi,” he said finally, smiling at the dazed look on your face. Maybe it was lack of oxygen or the sheer force he used, but your head was spinning. It didn’t matter much to him though, taking your hand and pulling you over to the car. He had hitched a ride from one of the guys earlier, finding no reason for both of you to drive. It didn’t take too long; fifteen minutes tops, but your patience was wearing thin.

Every move he made, whether it was placing his hand on yours or simply driving stick shift, seemed ten times hotter than usual; you could single-handedly give this man an ego problem. He wasn’t immune to you either, barely able to focus with you next to him, similar to how he felt when you met.

You tripped inside, hardly making it up to the apartment with Ray hot on your trail. Much to your dismay, he did not let you tear his clothes off the second the door shut. Instead, he pulled you into the bedroom, kissing you slow and deep, the polar opposite of what you were expecting. Obviously he knew this, taking his time to mess with you, the image of you crying, begging for him as his only motivation.

Everything felt so slow, from the way his tongue moved against yours, to how he gently laid you down. His hands remained on your hips, still focused on his lips against yours, making no move to touch you further. He broke away when you bucked your hips up, striving for friction.

“Touch me,” you breathed, and he just smiled at you. “Why should I?” he asked, pecking your lips while you wiggled beneath him. “Because I’ve waited all day.” He pondered your answer for a moment but ultimately deemed it invalid. “I think you can wait a little longer.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment as he kissed your jaw, traveling lower at an agonizingly slow pace, savoring every inch of you. His hands slid down your thighs, centimeters away from discovering how wet you were–not that you minded, if anything you were praying that he’d take pity and touch you. He didn’t, as expected, and kept his grip firm to prevent you from moving.

After what felt like forever, he took off your shirt and hovered over you, admiring the bare skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he told you, smiling softly as he slid across the mattress. His mouth trailed down your torso, leaving soft kisses above the waistband of your jeans.

Ray watched you as he slowly slid them down, wasting time to see just how desperate you could get. You shifted around and reached out to pull him closer, but he retracted his hands. “Be patient,” he said, voice laced with amusement. He stifled a laugh as you groaned, and returned to his former position.

He kissed up your thighs, his hands warm against your skin as he held them apart. He hummed in question as you let out a shaky breath, followed by a “please.” Luckily, he was also getting sick of waiting, fulfilling your wishes and exposing you to the cool air.

His breath fanned over your skin, mere inches from your core, holding your gaze as he kissed you. You shivered at his touch, helplessly shifting under his hands. He quickly made up for lost time, everything becoming lips and tongue, warm and wet as his fingers sunk into your thighs. He tugged you closer, only to pull away as your hips jumped. You frowned down at him as he shot you a warning glance; if you couldn’t wait, you couldn’t finish.

Ray’s original quick pace dissolved into slow and teasing, wide strokes of his tongue turning into kitten licks while you gripped the sheets in hopes of grounding yourself. Thankfully his teasing didn’t last long, his self-control crumbling quicker than yours. You reveled in the way his mouth felt, vocalizing your pleasure as he dragged his tongue across your clit, sucking lightly before dipping his tongue in your slit.

Your breathing grew unsteady with each passing moment, your back arched and muscles clenched as he lapped at your cunt. He could tell you were close by the way your legs shook, sandwiched between them with no concern for oxygen. You were buzzing as his movements bordered on overwhelming, doing half the work yourself as you ground down against him.

You stammered out Ray’s name, followed by a string of jumbled curses, but he pulled away at the last minute. A desperate cry echoed throughout the room as he stared up at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You sound so pretty,” he said, not even trying to hide his grin anymore. He was on a power high, admiring how fragile you looked, as if a feather-light touch could break you.

He didn’t wait too long before diving back in, not letting his hard work go to waste. Sure enough, it took the smallest of touches for you to come apart beneath him, choked sobs and broken moans encircling you as he cleaned up the mess. He gave you a minute to breathe, leaving more gentle kisses on your skin as he pulled away.

You watched in admiration as he stripped, still feeling fuzzy as he approached you, being met with his slick lips against yours. “Beautiful,” he reminded you when you broke apart, eyes trailing over your body. He could’ve sworn you were hand-crafted by God themself, you were so perfect.

Carefully, he hovered over you, listening to how your breath hitched as he lined himself up between your legs, the tip of his dick sliding against your folds rather than in. He studied your expression, your eyes fluttering open when he still hadn’t pushed in. “Ray, please,” you pouted at him. He rolled his eyes in jest and thrust in, moaning at the sudden warmth.

His rhythm was quick and deep, rewarding your patience. You gripped his arms and pulled him closer, shrinking the gap between the two of you. His breathing hitched, moaning your name as you hooked your legs around his waist, allowing him to drive deeper inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he mumbled against your skin, swelling with pride as clenched around him, sinful sounds spilling from your lips. “Fuck, I’m–” you started, groaning in mild frustration as he slowed his thrusts. He knew you were close again, but you could wait a little longer, right?

“You can hold it,” he smiled, kissing you gently after the pitiful whine you let out. “C’mon, be good for me.” His pace picked up again and you held him tightly, resisting your orgasm with the little strength you had left. Ray must’ve noticed your (incredibly obvious) struggle, snapping his hips against yours a few more times before blessing you with a soft ‘come for me’. That’s all it took, shaking as your muscles contracted, and falling limp as he pulled out.

He painted you pretty, moaning softly as the very sight of you, sprawled out and dazed, stained with sweat and come, looking effortlessly beautiful–even if you’d disagree. He wiped you down as best as possible with his t-shirt, neither of you having the energy nor caring to move anymore; he had a million black t-shirts anyway.

Ray held you close, arms strong and safe around your waist. “You performed really well tonight,” you told him, planting soft kisses on his chest while you listened to his breathing. “Oh? During or after the gig?” You couldn’t help but laugh a little, cuddling closer to him as he pulled up the covers. “Both,” you confirmed, giving him one more kiss and letting your eyes flutter shut. He just looked down at you dreamily, whispering a soft ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.

taglist: @lubbockshusband @yachiiko @newgirlinhell @tomoora @canyousttakemyheart @blackberryblossom

#ray toro x reader #ray toro #ray toro smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut #my chemical romance

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

wrong place, right time

— a someway, somehow jjk x reader drabble summary “Marry me,” Jungkook says one night warning smut is mentioned in passing (jk getting tied up, gagged, crying lol, also him fingering oc), da ex girlfriend Sojin is mentioned 😨, oc is a LIL scared..... she gets over it lol rating m (18+) wc 1k

note (!) alas.... our last swsh drabble to fulfill the arc I accidentally began for them <3 rip in peaces u will be missed mrs. ‘swish’

His timing is absolutely terrible.

At first, you had wanted to believe Jungkook was the normal one, that it was you who moved according to strict imaginary schedules. Wake up at exactly 6:14am every morning, grab your keys by 6:43. Precise, exact. Jungkook and everyone else moved according to more lax rules. The auto shop opens at 9am, sometimes 9:10 if traffic is bad; it closes at 11pm or whenever the last client leaves. Compared to Jungkook, you were just too picky about timing, too strict.

For a long time, that seemed to be accurate.

“Marry me,” Jungkook says one night, rolled beneath an old Dodge pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days. You’re sitting off to the side, fingers flying across your phone’s keyboard as you type up an angry email. It’s muffled, the sound of his voice absorbed by the junk of metal above him. You pretend you don’t hear it. A few minutes later, he rolls out from underneath, has got a dark streak of something painted across his perfect forehead. He taps the pointed toe of your heel with a wrench. “Marry me,” he repeats.

You balk. “You’re asking me now?” you clarify just in case, phone slowly coming to rest against your thighs. He tilts his head to the side, shrugs like he sees nothing weird about the situation. There’s no other word to explain the emotion that blooms in your chest other than completely dumbfounded. “Like… right now?”

Jungkook’s not even looking at you anymore, too busy shuffling through his toolbox for that one weird shaped tool you see him use often. “Do you want me to ask another time?” he suggests casually. When he looks back up, he’s got this slightly confused look on his face, as if you’re the odd one. And because the moment is just so… weird you find yourself nodding along.

And that’s that. You move on, pretend like Jungkook’s weirdly placed proposal didn’t happen, let it settle in the very back of your mind. Not like it’s hard, anyway. Your schedule is packed, clouded with meetings and deadlines, all your new roles as the department manager, and you barely have time to think about it.

He tries again about a month later.

“Marry me,” he gasps after a wild night beneath the sheets. There’s tender marks lining his rib cage, over his arms, around his throat. His face is still flushed, and there’s drying cum against his tummy. He might’ve cried tonight from overstimulation, but you can’t quite remember. That’s how he asks you the second time.

For some reason, you laugh the second time. “What?” you chuckle, and maybe it was one of those protective measures, laughing in a tense situation because you don’t know what else to say. Your mind is still stuck somewhere between the gags and the cuffs and the tears and the way his skin had bruised beneath your touch.

Jungkook rolls out his wrist— it’s red, so fucking red —and then promptly reaches for your hand. The pad of his thumb is rough from years of working, swipes across your knuckles lovingly. “Marry me,” he says, but you can’t tell if the blush on his cheeks is from his bashfulness or from the fact you had choked him a few minutes prior. “I want to marry you.”

Your brain stalls, mouth opening and closing. Jungkook doesn’t seem too bothered. He kisses your knuckles, asks you to get the salve from his drawer instead. He doesn’t mention it again that night, just lets you rub his back and goes to sleep.

The next time comes sooner, about a week later.

His mom mentions it one night, the three of you squeezed into the tiny kitchen of his family home as his dad snores in the other room. “Sojin is getting married,” she says, and the air is sucked out of the room. At least, it is for you.

You try to play it off, straining your eyes to catch a glimpse of him in your peripheral. “Really,” Jungkook says, half a turkey sandwich in his mouth. He’s still in his jumpsuit from work, has it knotted around his waist in that way that makes him look extra beefy, extra sexy. “That’s crazy.”

His mom hums, and their genuine lack of emotion towards the news makes you feel like you’re the crazy one once again. “She sent an invitation.”

She leaves the kitchen soon after, leaves you quietly stirring the sugar into your coffee as Jungkook gobbles down his sandwich. A loud gulp, the loud smack of his lips. “We should get married,” he says, and you jolt, spoon clattering loudly against the inside of your mug.

Your brain doesn’t struggle for a response this time. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily have you giving him a good response either. “Like Sojin,” you reply, and feel weird about it immediately. Icky. Gross. Bitter.

Apparently, Jungkook gets it. “Or we can get married in ten years,” he suggests instead, skips over your little blunder like he never heard it at all. “Or fifty.”

You appreciate it. “When I’m saggy,” you mumble, eyes hyper-focused on the mini whirlpool inside your coffee mug.

He hums, bumps his hip against yours. “My cute, senior citizen girlfriend. We can drive one of those retro cars around town.”

The worst one yet is on the side of the road, your car battery giving out on the highway that connects the city to your hometown. Jungkook picks you up, pulls up behind you and has the audacity to catcall you as he walks up. “Hey, beautiful,” he flirts after you punch his stupidly strong bicep, grins this cheesy thing at you as he gets to work.

In the end, your car can’t be revived with the limited tools he brought along. You settle on waiting inside his truck, snuggled beneath his jacket as you wait for the tow truck. He gets the bright idea to fondle you beneath the coat, the dying sunset painting his charming face in a romantic glow that has you seeing stars and galaxies and nebulae when you come. “Marry me,” he husks out, mouth slotted against yours.

It’s the last time he asks; it’s the first time you say yes.

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #Jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon Jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #swshd #mine

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jaeminlore · 4 years ago

Text

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham. Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

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honklore · 4 years ago

Text

landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham. Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #pixiecap//

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oh-no-my-hand-slipped · 3 years ago

Note

A new prompt for you! (Finally :3)

I'm picturing multiple couples or a family group (4+ adults) who share a cottage together in the middle of nowhere, living off the land. Winter is coming, bringing with it its chill winds and early dustings of snow. The people are hard at work every day, chopping wood and putting aside the last of the food for winter.

It's the worst possible time to get sick, yet someone does, coming down with a miserable, streaming cold and high fever. What do they do about it? How do the others respond?

Could have definite cottage core elements, or fantasy (since you're so good at writing that!) or contagion if you choose. Can't wait to see the results :)

It’s been so long since I’ve written a real, honest to god fic, so this will be my debut back into snzfucker favor!

Okay, okay, who to include in this house of contagion?

We need a soft healer boi that takes care of everyone before themselves, of course. A very strong, stoic, hardworking warrior with muscles of steel - but the same can’t be said for his immune system. A hyper comic relief (like if Scout from TF2 was in a fantasy setting) that insists he isn’t sick, but can’t keep back his sneezes long enough to prove his point. And, of course, a tall, thin scholar whose cold heart is only melted by his fever.

Adventurers packing it in for the winter and preparing for journeying in the spring, now only at most a few yards from each other and having shot immune systems from the exhausting work. Illness doesn’t have to travel far to infect…

Oh, this is gonna be good.

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

“Look look look! Otto, you’re not gonna believe this!”

Barlow skidded to a halt, almost tripping over his own two feet before regaining his balance. Otto chuckled.

“Alright, alright, que pasa? What is so exciting?”

Barlow fumbled with his cloak before pulling a shiny coin out of one of the pockets.

“I got this off a path when I was pickin’ berries! Must’ve been a merchant or something…”

Barlow’s eyes suddenly lit up.

“Or maybe a warrior! Ooh, or a knight! Definitely somebody with a cape.”

He flung the back of his cloak behind him and stood tall, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied grin. However, Barlow couldn’t keep the pose long - the frigid air made him close the thin burlap around himself again, shivering. Otto knitted their brow.

“You’re wearing your summer cloak,” they said, looking Barlow up and down. “You must be freezing, chiquito!”

Barlow waved his hand, as if batting away Otto’s concern.

“Don’t worry about it, doc. It’s gonna take more than a little wind to get me down.”

As if to prove a point, he spread out his arms and spun around, laughing at the many leaves he kicked up.

Otto would usually be charmed by the sprite’s antics, but their concern soon outweighed their amusement.

“Just make sure to change into your winter clothes soon, okay? I would hate for you to get sick.”

Barlow stopped spinning, coughing a bit as he caught his breath with chilly autumn air. His hot breath clouded around his face like smoke.

“Okay, okay,” he panted, “I’ll grab it when I go by the cottage. Forgot my basket anyway. See you around, doc.”

With a quick salute, Barlow ran off, cloak billowing behind him, still clenching the coin in a tight fist. Otto shook their head and sighed. They knew that Barlow just didn’t want them to worry - but that only made them worry more. The healer in them couldn’t help but notice red-tipped fingers, congested voices, and pallid complexions. Besides, with a harsh winter underway, a cold could very quickly rear its ugly head, turning into bronchitis, pneumonia, and even infect a person’s magic…

Otto took a deep breath. Their thoughts had run away with them - and now, more than ever, it was important to stay focused.

The doctor gathered up their scrolls, pulled their coat close, and started back to the cottage.

Perhaps a little tea would calm their nerves.

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

“it’CHEW! CHEW!”

“Salud.”

“Ugh…thanks, doc. Snf!”

Otto looked up from his knitting to see Barlow rubbing his long, pointy ears with a pained look on his face.

“Do your ears hurt?”

Barlow put his hands in his lap. “No! Just, uh, a little itchy.”

Severin, who had been reading on the sofa across from Otto, hid a smirk behind the yellowed pages.

“Someone must be talking about you,” he drawled smugly. “Considering the way you conduct yourself, I’m not surprised.”

Instead of snapping back, Barlow still scratched at his ears. Severin slit his eyes and continued to read. He almost seemed disappointed.

“Could be thragweed,” Godric rumbled from a large wooden stool, rubbing his beard in thought, “but they usually shrivel up by the first frost. Didja see any three-leaved plants while you were out foragin’?”

Barlow shrugged, wincing as he rubbed harder. “Um…maybe?”

Otto frowned. “Be careful. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep scratching like that.”

“S-sorry, I…huh-hold on…”

Barlow buried himself in his cloak, with only his mop of red hair showing.

“hit’SHEW! Huh…it’TCHEW!”

The sprite continued to let out sneeze after sneeze, his wrinkled, pink nose only showing when he needed to come up for air. Otto got up from their chair, and they were soon holding him by the shoulders to keep him from knocking himself over.

Barlow finally finished, snuffling into his sleeve. He looked up at Otto with bleary eyes.

“Sorry, doc, I don’d dow whad’s gotten into be…”

Otto hushed him with a gentle pat, using their free hand to feel Barlow’s forehead. They clucked their tongue.

“Oh, mijo, you have a fever...”

Barlow’s breath caught, and he coughed into his shoulder. “Nah, I…I’b okay, Otto, really. I’ll be…snrk…fide in the morning. Just gotta sleep it off…”

Otto smiled gently. “Well, you’re right about one thing. A good night’s sleep is exactly what you need. And maybe a little salve for your poor ears…”

Their hand still on Barlow’s shoulder, Otto guided the sprite to his bedroom, mumbled protests and miserable sneezes trailing behind them.

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

Barlow’s fever never grew very high - his burning ears and nose, however, kept him up for most of the night. By the time morning came, he was too exhausted to even feign health. Otto had to put him back to bed, which was only met with pitiful murmurings.

“‘M fide, doc, I…hetch’CHIIIEW!”

“Pobrecito! You sound even worse than yesterday…”

“C’mon, Otto, I…”

“I don’t want to see you out of bed today, okay, cariño? You need to rest.”

“Nngh…”

Otto and Severin split the foraging work, since their respective jobs were mostly planning and budgeting the winter ahead of them. Godric promised to keep a good eye on the patient, but that didn’t lessen the doctor’s worry any.

“I wonder how Barlow’s doing,” Otto murmured, probably for the umpteenth time since they’d begun their work.

Severin scrutinized his severely pricked thumb. “Children always carry around such nasty things. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught the plague instead of a simple cold.”

Otto froze mid-pick, and Severin hurried to correct himself.

“Peace, my friend. It is just a cold, after all.

He grimaced.

“One I dearly hope he keeps to himself.”

They both continued to fill their baskets with berries, wiping the frost off their shiny, black skins. However, Otto’s mind continued to race.

I shouldn’t have left him. Godric only knows so much. What happens if his fever spikes? I’m a healer, I’m not supposed to leave the sick behind. Should I go back? I should go back. No, I promised Barlow I’d get his foraging done. But I can’t keep a promise if he’s dead. What if he’s already dead? What if Godric’s on his way right now to tell me? What if I’m already too late? How will we bury him, the ground is too hard. Otto, your friend has died and all you can think about is how to bury him. You must be the most selfish -

“Otto.”

Otto snapped back to reality to see Severin giving him a fierce side-eye.

“It’s only a cold.”

Otto took a deep breath. “Right. Gracias. I…I lost myself, didn’t I?”

The afternoon went by in a quiet fervor, both of them trying to fill their baskets before the sun went down. With Otto’s quick fingers and Severin’s thin ones, it was an easy job, and the managed to get back before it got too dark.

Otto wasn’t two steps through the door before they were at Godric’s heels, wringing their hands and stammering through the worries that had built up through the day.

“Are you sure…how…did he…should I…?”

The warrior just chuckled and put a gigantic, calloused hand on the their head.

“He’s on tha’ mend, doc, on the mend. Sneezin’ his head off, sure, but gettin’ better.”

As if on cue, two loud sneezes interrupted them from one of the bedrooms, followed by a mumbled curse and a few wet sniffles. Godric shook his head.

“Been like that all day, poor tyke. When he wasn’ dozin’ off, tha’ is.”

Severin took a few scrolls out of his dragon-scale satchel.

“I understand you have a more…pressing engagement. Why don’t I take the calculations tonight?”

But Otto was already on their way to Barlow’s bedside, medicine bag in tow. Severin only lifted his eyebrows and turned on his heel, setting up the many notes he had taken and a few quills on the oaken table.

“Besides,” he murmured to himself, “I don’t want to get near whatever affliction that sprite’s come down with.”

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

Barlow was scratching at his drooping ears, which were now covered in a red, peeling rash. Otto gently pushed his hands back under the quilt.

“I know it itches, but you need to try not to scratch.”

The healer took a small glass container out of their bag, dipping two fingers into the greenish-gray ointment inside. They began to apply the salve to Barlow’s ears, taking care not to put on too much.

“Tell me when you need a break,” Otto said.

Barlow nodded, eyes squeezed shut. After a few minutes, his nostrils started to twitch, and he held up a hand.

“G-gudda…huh…!”

He jerked forward into his knees.

“hit’CHEW! hhhit’SHEW! Uh…hut’SHIEW!”

Barlow snuffled into the quilt, and Otto handed him a tissue.

“Salud.”

“Ugh…sorry, doc…”

Otto put the cork back into the glass bottle and set it on the bedside table.

“It’s alright - most sprites have the same reflex.”

“No, I beant…for…”

Barlow bit his lip, his ears drooping even lower.

“For geddin’ sick.”

Otto put a hand on the sprite’s back.

“Oh, mijo…”

“I-I didn’d mean to,” Barlow whimpered. “I…I should’ve god by coat like you told be to…and dow w-we’re - hic - gudda starve…”

Otto hushed him, pulling Barlow into an embrace and rocking him slowly back and forth.

“We will be fine, mijo,” they whispered, their voice soothing Barlow into a sniffle. “We will forage until you are better, and not a day before. That is what friends do. They protect each other, they take care of each other, and they love each other like family. And that is how I love you. Like my family.”

Barlow hiccuped, trying to speak through his tears.

“Shhh, mijo…it’s okay…”

Otto wrapped the quilt tighter around Barlow and laid him down, pushing hair damp with both tears and sweat out of his face. The sobs quieted, then dissolved into shaky breaths. Before Otto even made it through the doorway, they could hear small, congested snores coming from the pile of blankets.

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

Scritch scritch scritch…scriiiitch…

Harried quill scratching filled the air as Otto entered the living room, putting on their tweed coat and wool gloves. They stretched out their arms.

“Buenos días!”

Godric lifted his coffee mug as a greeting, his famous half-smile dancing over his lips.

“Well, aren’tcha bright as tha’ north star this mornin’!”

Otto beamed. Barlow had slept soundly through the night, and he was still fast asleep when they had checked on him. Not a sniffle or a sneeze came from that room.

“Severin, I was thinking we could pick up acorns today,” Otto thought aloud, buttoning their coat. “There is a beautiful place in the forest…”

Silence. The quill scratching only grew more manic. Otto glanced up.

Severin was hunched over the table, writing madly on several open scrolls, only pausing to move a few beads on his abacus. Otto went back to getting ready. Sometimes it took a while for Severin to answer if he was engrossed in his calculations. He would respond when he got to a stopping point.

After about fifteen minutes of fidgeting with their scarf, though, Otto tried again.

“From what I’ve seen, we should be ready for winter in a week, maybe less. All that’s left is the dried vegetables and a few more logs for firewood.”

Again, there was no answer. But now that Otto was a little closer, they could see why.

Severin’s eyes were inflamed and painful, as were his gaunt cheeks. His long, usually well-preened hair was matted against his forehead, with stray hairs sticking up this way and that. Thin shoulder blades came together with each labored breath. Long fingers shivered around a red quill, leaving stray marks on the parchment.

“Mi sombro,” Otto breathed.

The shadowling blinked, raising his head stiffly. Pools of sweat, shaken loose by the movement, streaked down their face.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” Severin croaked. “Have I…have I been awake…?”

Godric looked up from his mug, finally noticing the sorcerer’s state. “Stars above, lad! Ya look like hell frozen over!”

The shadowling stared straight ahead, his breath coming in ragged strains.

“Could someone…please put out the fireplace…?”

Otto clucked their tongue, putting their hands on either side of Severin’s neck. His dark eyes fluttered shut, as if with great relief.

“Mm…”

“Ay, tu cabeza,” Otto cooed, putting their hand on Severin’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Severin finally looked down at the doctor. His tense gaze was now dazed, vulnerable - even afraid.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said again, hoarsely.

Otto rubbed their thumb on Severin’s feverish cheek. “I know, cariño. I know.”

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

It took a lot more doing to get Severin to bed than it did Barlow. Not only did he insist he was perfectly well, only warm from the unlit fireplace, but that he had seen terrifying visions outside the window.

“Their eyes, doctor…they stared into my very essence…a…a beast of some kind…we’ll be killed…”

“Shhh, my love. It’s only a nightmare from your fever. You will feel better soon.”

In the end, the only way Otto could leave the cottage was by taking a small talisman Severin had in his cloak. They weren’t superstitious, but Otto wanted to do anything they could to put the sick sorcerer at ease.

Now with one less healthy person in the group, Otto rushed to get the last of the supplies for the cold winter ahead. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall, which made finding acorns that much more difficult. Before the sun reached its peak, the ground was completely covered in a thin layer of snow. But, for once, Otto’s anxiety was an advantage.

They plowed through every task as if their life depended on it. Another of their friends falling ill had kicked their healer instinct into high gear; whenever they were fatigued or sore, all it took was a few words of the healing oath to get them going again.

“From the monsters of the cave, of the sea, of the heart,” they whispered while peeling wild wolf onions, “I shall protect and provide for those who cannot.”

As morning turned to afternoon, the light flurry of the morning became a bitter gale that howled through the trees like a hungry animal. The world was silent except for the frigid wind - all the creatures of the forest knew well enough that the winter ahead would not be kind to them.

But Otto knew nothing of this.

And so they marched forward.

It was quite past dark when Otto returned to the cottage. Much to their delight, a fire was flickering in the fireplace, and a wonderful, familiar smell lingered in the air - a mixture of tender meat and spices.

As Otto had hoped, there was a pot of stew left over the flames. The broth still bubbled with warmth, and the chicken and vegetables gave off a heavenly steam. Their stomach suddenly felt very hollow.

They hadn’t eaten all day, had they?

With raw fingers, the doctor tried their best to use the ladle, which was as big as their entire arm and weighed twice as much. Gripping the handle with both hands, they brought the brew to their lips, taking care not to burn their tongue.

A beautiful, soothing flavor poured down Otto’s throat. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes, making sure to drink up every last tasty morsel. It was a long time before the ladle was empty again.

Once they were finished, the healer felt a heaviness collect around their eyes. Finally, at long last, they could rest. The cottage was fast asleep - and now it was time for Otto to follow suit.

Sleep came upon Otto too quickly for them to retire to their own bed. Like a hound after a successful hunt, they crawled onto the sofa and curled into a ball, dead to the world before their head hit the soft cushions.

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

Otto wasn’t sure how long they slept. They remembered bits and pieces of dreams, of words, or memories - but mostly a comforting darkness that lulled them into a deep drowse.

When they finally awoke, the first thing they saw was the flitting of the fire. The flame had all but burned itself out during the night. Otto rolled over, stretching and sighing with satisfaction. That was the best they had slept in several days.

They indulged themselves in a large yawn and shifted off the sofa, cringing from cold stone against their bare feet.

The cottage was still silent with sleep - not a thing stirred but the creaks and groans of the wooden beams. A frigid wind had picked up outside, and bits of snow swirled in the air.

How cold Godric must be this morning, Otto thought as they padded towards the hallway. The warrior was always up and working by first light - quite before anyone else was awake - but came back inside to drink some hot coffee and see how the preparations were going. Godric made a strong cup of coffee. One could smell it and be ready for a new day; that’s usually all most could stand without sputtering.

Today, however, there was no earthy aroma of it brewing. All Otto could smell was a hint of the stew they had eaten the night before - the husk of a beautiful, delicious dream.

The doctor peeked his head into Barlow’s room. The sprite was laying on his stomach, eyes closed and breath soft. Though they had been feeling better for the past day or so, Barlow’s nose frequently ran away with him, and was still very pink and sensitive. His upright ear twitched ever so slightly, but there was no sign of him stirring any time soon.

Severin, on the other hand, had fared much worse. Despite the many wet rags coating almost every inch of his febrile body, his breathing was still heavy and labored, and his eyes darted under closed eyelids. Bite marks covered cracking lips. Otto made sure they made little noise as they tiptoed from the doorway. Severin needed all the rest he could get.

Otto turned from his patients, a familiar heaviness weighing upon their heart. Such misery in what was supposed to be a warm season of reaping and feasting.

Perhaps it came back with them from market, or from the many travelers that take the nearby road into town. With how hard everyone had been working, and how many nights were left unslept…

Otto massaged the bridge of their nose, dashing from one possibility to the next, feeling more and more ashamed by how little they prepared, how stupid they must have been, how utterly selfish! They had been so busy with preparations that they had barely noticed that their journeymates were wasting away!

They could have done something. This was all their fault, wasn’t it? How could they be a healer if they couldn’t even keep the ones they loved safe?

Otto was roused from their guilt by the sound of harsh coughing. They peeked their head into the past two rooms, fearing that one of them had been awakened by their footsteps. However, both of them were still out cold. Or out warm, in Severin’s case.

No, the coughing wasn’t coming from their rooms, Otto realized. It was coming from the third bedroom - the one that they and Godric shared.

The door creaked open as Otto shuffled inside, already knowing the worst was yet to come.

“Doc? Is tha’ you?”

Godric was sitting up in bed, quilt wrapped around him, his chest heaving with another hacking fit. His cheeks were flushed with effort and fever. Otto went to his bedside, their heart dropping into their stomach.

“Real nice ‘a this cold to leave the healer last, eh?” the warrior joked before laying back down with a quiet groan.

Otto pushed the hair off Godric’s neck and felt his lymph nodes, which were not only hot, but terribly swollen.

“I can chop those few pieces ‘a wood, an’ then I’ll-”

“You are not getting out of this bed,” Otto said sternly. Then, with a kinder tone, “I know you want to finish your work, but you are very sick. You shouldn’t be out in the snow.”

“But how-”

“I will take care of it, cariño. Just rest.”

Godric opened his mouth to say something else, but just coughed and covered himself up with his quilt.

“Take care of yerself, doc,” he said before Otto went to check on the others. “There isn’t anythin’ I can’t do after I’m back on m’feet.”

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

Between taking care of three sick creatures and the final preparations, Otto ran themselves ragged over the next few days. None of their friends were particularly hard to take care of - especially after Severin’s fever broke - but the heaviness of their heart continued to weigh upon them.

With no other options, they threw themselves into work.

If they chopped enough wood for an extra week, they chopped enough wood for two extra weeks. The larder was more than full. Their fingers and hands and back and everything else was sore, but they couldn’t stop for long without feeling their guilt gnaw away at them.

One frigid morning, Otto had taken to the axe, splitting wood and putting them in the shed to keep them dry. They had run out of pre-cut trunks a long time ago, so they started cutting sticks in half for kindling. Out of the corner of their eye, mid-swing, they saw a figure marching through the snow - lifting their foot high before stomping it down again with a crunch.

After a few minutes, Otto could finally see a pair of long ears fluttering in the cold wind.

“Barlow!”

The sprite grinned as he approached Otto, holding up a steaming container of something in his mittened hands.

“I got soup!” he called out, trying to move faster in the deep snow. “Godric felt a lot better today, so he wanted to try somethin’ new. It’s real good! Even Severin ate a whole bowl of it, so you know it’s gotta be great.”

Barlow sat next to the chopping block, and patted a mound of snow next to him. Otto sat down, wincing as their sore muscles twinged.

“Godric says we’re all packed up for winter,” Barlow continued as he handed Otto the food. “And we’ll even have stuff to eat in the spring, too.”

Otto didn’t answer, but tucked into the soup, not even blowing it off before putting the spoon in their mouth. Barlow thought for a little bit, then spoke again.

“Doc, Godric told me that we got more than enough food and wood to last through the winter. If you wanna come inside, we’ve got a checker game goin’…”

Otto didn’t respond, but they had started to shiver from the cold. Barlow took of his coat and draped it around Otto’s shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get back. Everybody’s waitin’ for us.”

Barlow took Otto by the hand and pulled them up, then led them back towards the cottage. Otto trailed behind like a quivering lamb, both exhausted and numb. They couldn’t think of much else than putting one foot in front of the other.

When the pair finally got back to the cottage, a warm, cozy scene awaited them. Severin was on the couch, doing needlepoint with half-open eyes and content look on his face. Godric was above the stove, stirring a pot and putting one seasoning or another into it. The fire was blazing in a lovely orange hue that painted the scene with a beautiful glow.

While Barlow went right inside and was greeted by the others, Otto stood in the doorway, weary eyes closed, soaking up the light and warmth as much as they could.

“Doctor?”

Severin was up now, his quiet wisdom regained. Before Otto could answer, the sorcerer started to remove their soaked outer layers with quick fingers.

“If Barlow didn’t bring you here,” Severin said, “you would have worked yourself to a frozen skeleton.”

Otto suddenly jerked his head to the side.

“het’TCH! TCH! TCH’UH!”

“Many blessings, doctor.”

Severin smiled and tilted his head.

“Many, many blessings.”

Otto sniffled, rubbing their nose with stiff fingers.

“Nngh…gracias. Just a little…heh…htch’CHU!”

“Aye, I don’ like tha’ sound of that,” Godric rumbled from the kitchen, turning his head to see the sickly healer.

Otto waved their hand. “Just a li-hih-ttle sdiffle…”

“One that is long overdue, I think,” Severin said, putting the last of their wet things away.

Otto was ushered in front of the fire, still at the mercy of his nose. With each sneeze came a chorus of blessings and, if need be, another handkerchief.

“That’s a real nasty cold, huh?” Barlow commented after a particularly forceful fit. “Even I didn’t sneeze that much.”

As the day came to a close, the group all gathered on the couch, listening to the wind howling outside and treating themselves to Godric’s famous roast and sweet apple tea. Otto didn’t eat very much, but the hot tea soothed their sore throat.

“Tank you for taking such good care of be,” Otto snuffled.

Godric chuckled. “Ya care so much about us, doc. It only makes sense that we’s care an awful lot about you, ‘specially when ya aren’t feelin’ well.”

“And after you tended so well to us, may I add,” Severin said, leaning his head back.

“Yeah!” Barlow agreed, not exactly as good with words as the others, but still just as thankful.

Otto, overcome, buried their face in Godric’s side and began to cry, letting out everything that they had felt in the past few days. They wanted to stop, they wanted to explain, but it was lost in desperate sobs and hiccuping. Godric held them closer to him while the others offered quiet support until the doctor quieted.

“There ya go,” Godric said, putting a large hand on Otto’s head. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Filled with comfort and warm food, Otto quickly dozed off, and the others weren’t far behind. The only sounds were the falling of fresh snow, the crackling of the fireplace, and the snores of deep, contented sleep.

And, as winter finally settled into Harbinger Woods, they all settled down for their long winter’s rest.

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

Not only do I want to dedicate this to @perfectpaperbluebirds , who gave me the prompt, but also @sneezytomatosquish , who has been feeling emotionally and physically under the weather lately. That may have changed by the time this fic is finished, but I shall gift it to you anyway. You are one of my favorite creators, but I want to create something for you for a change. You deserve it.

Get well soon!

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Note

Here for the sentence starters!! "I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater" and "I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do." Feel free to do both or either or whatever you prefer with either of the Marcuses! I'm in such a fluffy mood rn and these will make my day :)) (PS I adore you and I hope you have a good day xx)

Making Moves (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Summary: Your neighborhood superhero, Marcus Moreno, is being nagged by his daughter to find love. Lucky for him, just the right woman moves in down the street.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, brief talks of death (just to refer to Marcus’s wife who passed away), brief mentions of sexual stuff. it’s tame.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN. I love some good Marcus Moreno. He’s such a cutie and these prompts made it so fun! You can still send me prompts from this list with a character, just mind the taken ones! p.s. my emotional support Brit @maxlordsgf see how I used patio/backyard??

The Moreno household was cozy. You wondered if it was Marcus who’d decorated the beautiful home, or if his late wife. You supposed it didn’t matter. You would’ve liked the former Mrs. Moreno, if Marcus could love her like he did.

He lived a few houses down from you. You’d moved in a couple of months ago, into the nice Craftsman style home you currently rented. The best thing about the house was the beautiful front porch, which exposed the lovely suburban neighborhood. The porch had come with a swing, and you’d decided that it’d have to be your new morning coffee spot. After all, this is California, where the sun was plentiful and the air was just cold enough to be refreshing in the mornings.

The time that you drank your coffee on the porch also happened to be the time that your neighborhood Heroic, Marcus, went for his morning runs. He’d been excited to see that the house was sold, and Missy was too. They planned on bringing over some sweets once you were settled. Several weeks after the sold sign went up, he saw you for the first time.

You looked like an angel, he thought. You wore a fuzzy robe with patterned capri pajama pants peeking from beneath it. Your glasses rested on the bridge of your nose, slightly fogged from the steam of your coffee. You sat on your porch swing, knees pulled to your chest, reading from your tablet. He was immediately caught off-guard. Your new home was at the beginning of his running path, but his breath was already gone from his lungs from your beauty.

Pushing his own glasses up his nose, he gave you a little wave as you looked up. You’d smiled at him, a grin with your teeth visible. The man was handsome, you’d noticed. Dark hair, a little scruff, eyes that scrunched when he smiled at you. He was fit, too, his muscles evident beneath his tight t-shirt and running shorts. He kept running, unsure what he could say to you.

Marcus returned home some thirty minutes later to find Missy awake. “Hey, the new neighbor moved in,” he told her as he walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Ooh, tell me all about them.”

“Well, we didn’t talk. I still don’t know if it’s a family or anything,” he admitted. “But there was a woman sitting on the porch.”

Missy’s eyes lit up. “How old?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, muñeca,” he told her and kissed her head as he walked past her to sit at the table.

“Old enough to date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and stuffing her mouth full of cereal. “Did she seem single?”

“Stay out of it,” he teased her and poked her forehead, right between the eyes.

She flinched back a bit but laughed. “Dad, come on.”

He shook his head. “We can bring over a housewarming gift tonight, huh? Then we can see.” -

Well, it turned out that night was too busy to do so for the Morenos.

You saw him the next morning as he ran past again. You wore different pajamas but sat in the same position. You’d waved back.

That’s how the next couple mornings went for the two of you. Every day, Marcus could swear you looked prettier. With you looking like that in your pajamas, he couldn’t imagine how beautiful you’d be at any other time.

Finally, Friday night, he and Missy put on some music and got to baking.

“What does she look like?” Missy asked curiously as she cracked an egg into the bowl- she’d learned the hard way that her father was not to be trusted with egg duty.

Marcus described you to his daughter, his eyes far off and a small smile on his face. “She’s very pretty.”

“Well, duh. You’re simping over her, of course she is.”

“What’s a simp?” He’d asked, brow furrowing.

The knock came an hour or two later. You’d gotten home from work an hour or so earlier, so you were in relaxed clothing, the remnants of your makeup on your face.

Behind the door stood the handsome runner you saw every morning, and a miniature, carbon-copied version of him with longer hair and more feminine features. “Hi! We’re the Morenos. We live in the blue house down the street. I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” she introduced herself cheerfully. She held a tray of brownies. He held a bouquet.

“We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the man- Marcus- says with a warm smile on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned and took the tray Missy held out. “Well, come in, please,” you invite them. “Do you drink, Marcus? I was just having some wine. Oh, and Missy, I have some soda if you’d like that.”

The three of you sat in your half-constructed living room for a while and chatted. You learned about the former Mrs. Moreno and how she’d passed a few years ago. You shared that you were living alone and single, due to a bad breakup that led you to move here. The two were good company, you learned quickly, bantering back and forth more like siblings than a father and daughter.

As they stood up to leave, you apologized for the mess. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to hook up my TV lately, and I haven’t done anything else yet. I want to get the TV up first, but I’m practically useless with electronic stuff,” you admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, Dad is great with electronics,” Missy told you with a grin.

“Not great. Competent would be a better word,” he chuckled. “I could help you set it up, if you’d like that.”

“I would, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Here, we can exchange numbers, you can text me when you’d like me to come over,” he offered and pulled out his phone.

“Sure,” you said and told him your number, which he enters into his phone and sends you a text. “Perfect,” you nodded and saved his phone number. “I’ll see you two soon, hopefully.”

They said goodbye and you heard Missy giggling as the door shut behind him. It’s muffled, but you thought you can hear Missy anyway: “That was smooth, Dad!”

That was months ago now. You’d developed a relationship with the both of them, visiting each others’ houses often for dinner or just to chat.

When summer rolled around, Missy invited you over for days at their pool. You two had enjoyed yourselves, Marcus playing the role of your butler for the day, serving you mocktails and teasing his daughter. It became a common occurrence during the summer. You even had a reverse day on Marcus’s birthday (July 12th) where Missy served the two of you. It was almost like a date. That was the day you both realized you’d fallen hard for the other.

As much as you spent time with Marcus, the girl positively adored you, and always sent you texts from her father’s phone.

We’re having pizza tonight! Wanna come over?

Dad says he sucks at math. Can you help me with my homework?

My friends canceled on me. Are you free to eat Ben and Jerry’s and watch Mamma Mia with me?

You’d become like a mother figure to her, helping her when she got her first period, taking her shopping for middle-school dances, giving her boy advice.

Marcus liked you just as much, if not more. You liked him too. He was a funny man, kindhearted and warm. He’d listen to you talk when you’d had a shitty day, bring over a bottle of wine when he needed some comfort, cook dinner for the two of you when Missy was at Anita’s.

One night, you’re eating dinner with them on their patio. It’s nice, overlooking their backyard and their pool. Missy is going to a friend’s later, to sleep over, but Marcus had cooked food for the three of you on the grill, something you’d learned he was fantastic at, and you’re inside getting more food. The door is slightly cracked, and you can hear the two of them talking.

“Dad. You have to make your move, and you gotta do it tonight! Otherwise, she’ll go for Kent a couple doors down. You don’t want that, do you?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“It’s not that easy, muñeca. I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”

Your heart catches in your chest, fluttering. Marcus likes you. Not only that, he’s in love with you. The past few months race through your head, and you hyper-analyze every little interaction the two of you have had. It’s clear now, in hindsight. You swallow hard, putting back down the skewer of vegetables.

He’s been the only thing on your mind the past few weeks, you have to admit. Your visits to each others’ homes had increased, with you spending more and more nights a week at the Morenos’. His laugh makes your stomach flutter as Missy says something else to him outside. You bite your lip. Tonight’s the night. If he doesn’t make his move like Missy insisted, you’ll do it first.

The conversation is light for the rest of dinner, and you’re a bit detached. Marcus can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. You simply stare out into their pool, listening to Missy ramble on about the plans that she and her friends have for tonight.

A while later, her friends’ parents pick her up. You stand in the driveway and wave a thank-you to the girl’s parents as they drive off with Missy and her friend in tow. “Love you guys,” she shouts out of the window. You grin and shout it back, in sync with Marcus.

The two of you return to the backyard. You walk a little farther apart from Marcus than normal. “Hey,” he says and stands right next to you, his shoulder nudging yours. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off all night,” he mumbles softly.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you chuckle, looking down at your feet.

Marcus is oblivious to the fact that you heard the two of them earlier. You and Marcus have always had a playful relationship, and the idea strikes him to help cheer you up. “Hey, vecina.”

“What- ah!” You squeal as Marcus lifts you in his strong arms. He walks the two of you to the side of the pool as you wriggle in his grip, laughing. “Goddamnit, Marcus! Let go of me!” You screech as he holds you over the pool, though you’re giggling the whole time.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he laughs, your feet kicking as they dangle over the chlorinated water.

“No, you asshole!” You laugh, wriggling. “Put me down, Moreno, or God help your poor soul when I-”

He sets you down on the edge, backing up a bit. “There, fine. Just trying to help,” he teases. He did, he thinks to himself. You’re smiling again.

You’re painfully close to him. Your hands find his hips and he looks down at your hands in confusion as you pat the pockets of his shorts. No phone. Perfect. There’s a devilish grin as you wrap him in a bear hug and fall backwards into the pool, taking him with you.

You let go once you’re underwater, shooting up to the surface from under him and laughing. He comes up moments later, wiping his eyes and pushing his hair back. Your laugh is maniacal and loud, completely content and proud of yourself. “There, I cheered you up at least,” he shakes his head and smiles. He walks to the shallower end of the pool, and you follow.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” you shoot back.

“Well, something was off. Will you tell me now?” He asks, your eyes wandering to his- oh, he’s ripped, goddamn- abs beneath his wet t-shirt. His eyes remained trained on yours, ever the gentleman.

Swallowing hard, you nod and walk closer to him with a smile. “I heard you and Missy when I was inside getting more food,” you tell him, biting on your lip to hold back an excited giggle.

His brows furrow in confusion then lift in surprise as it hits him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, wading a little closer and then even closer. You can hear his heavy breathing and look into those big brown eyes with a grin.

“Well, I-” he starts stammering, unsure of what to say, until you place your hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you mumble soothingly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I know you said it’s not that easy. Why don’t you let me take the reins then, hm?” You ask teasingly, bringing your face close to his.

He grins, taking the opportunity as he sees it. His lips crash to yours happily, his hands finding your waist over your sopping wet clothing. You smile softly against his lips. They’re so soft and warm, the very lips you’ve been staring at for a long time, imagining this. He’s gentle but loving and you deepen it. He follows immediately, parting his lips against yours and he sighs into your mouth.

The two of you stand there, in his pool, making out, for quite a while. Finally, when he breaks away, looking at you through his water-drop-stained glasses, you grin. “This is your fault, you know. I’m gonna have to go home and change into dry clothing.”

“Or you could borrow some of mine,” he offers with a shy smile, and you grin.

“That works too.”

He kisses you one more time. “Will you stay the night? We don’t even have to… to do anything. I don’t even really want to yet. I just want to keep holding on to you.”

You nod and kiss him softly, for just a moment. “Of course I will.” -

You awaken in the morning to the smell of cooking. You live alone, and it makes your brow furrow in confusion, eyes still shut, until they open and you find yourself in Marcus’ home. His bed, specifically.

You smell like chlorine and your hair is damp still, but you’re wearing a big black sweater that smells like detergent and cologne and sleep. It’s Marcus’s, you realize with a smile.

Last night was truly perfect. No, you didn’t sleep with him yet, but it was still perfectly intimate, the way you held each other and whispered sweet words and pressed soft kisses all over each others’ faces and torsos. You’d made out for a fair amount of time too, just like teenagers again, but it was meaningful.

You pad down the stairs, wearing just your underwear and one of Marcus’s big sweaters. He’s cooking breakfast in the kitchen, and your heart melts as you see him. “Good morning, superhero,” you coo as you wrap your arms around him from behind and press a kiss into his neck.

His body warms and melts into your touch. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. Your bed is insanely comfortable,” you chuckle and snuggle in against him, resting your head against his back.

“I’m glad. Go sit down, breakfast will be ready in a bit.”

You nod and do exactly that, sitting across the kitchen island from him. He puts some pancakes on a plate, drizzles them with syrup, and slides it to you. “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” you grin and waste no time in cutting into them with a fork and taking a bite.

You sigh happily and Marcus’s heart can barely take the sight of it. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“I can’t get over how cute you are,” you tease and pop another bite in your mouth. “The good news is that you can get over it, because I’m coming over here for breakfast in your clothes every day now.”

“Or you could live here.”

The proposal is so quiet, so sudden and nonchalant that it takes you aback for a minute. “What?”

He shrugs. “I know we’ve only been together for, what, 10 hours now, but Missy and I both adore you. You’re over here all the time anyway. Why don’t you? Save us both some money, too.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “I might have to think about it.”

He nods. “I get that, I-“

“Done thinking. I’ll do it,” you grin happily.

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod, giggling excitedly.

Marcus leans across the kitchen counter and kisses you softly. “Be prepared for a lot of Moreno loving. Missy’s a cuddler.”

“I think I can take it,” you smile and press another kiss to his lips, with all of the love in your heart.

translations:

vecina- neighbor (female)

muñeca- in this context, doll

hey taglist, come get y’all’s juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalpanic

221 notes · View notes

dalishthunder · 3 years ago

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Imagine....dualscar being tense and grumpy from a nights work on the ship...sitting down in his chair and reader comes out behind him to start rubbing at his shoulders....he has appearances to keep and doesn't like loosening his posture much but it's so hard not to melt under those warm hands

I actually wrote something that went down like that.... let me find it for you. It's between a servant reader and dualscar.... if that is your cup of tea (I'll put it under the cut in case it's not).

But just the thought of him melting..........

“Would you like me to go…?” You asked him, hoping beyond hope that he would say yes. It had been a while since you’d gotten a good sleep in. His first mate always had a task for you to do. Always. Without fail, something else. But if you slipped out now, maybe you could sneak back to your hammock before the sun rose.

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you as he spoke into his pillow.“I need your tiny little hands, there’s a knot in my shoulders. Work it out.” He unclasped his cloak and tossed it to the ground. Lovely.

You sighed, standing up and walking over to the bed. His armor was still on of course, but you weren’t going to mention that, no need to doff that if you didn’t need to. You just wanted this over as soon as possible… and with any luck he’d fall straight to sleep. You really, really hoped he was sleepy drunk.

Your fingers began to rub little circles at first at the top of the shoulders first.

“Harder.”

You applied more pressure.

“No. No, angles off. You should know by now how I like it.” He snipped, voice muffled by his pillow.

You ground your teeth, but hopped up onto the bed and straddled his back, kneading the base of his shoulder blades. He allowed it for a few minutes before speaking again.

“You’re going to have to take off the armor, sweetheart. I can barely feel you.”

“Of course.”

“’Of course’ what?”

“Of course, sir.” Your nostrils flared as you found the buckles on the side, working the stiff leather until it finally came loose. He shifted so you could slide it off of him leaving him only in a lavender silk chemise and pants.

Your palms pressed firmly into his back and you dragged up, eliciting a deep moan from the man below you.

“That’s the ticket.” The troll hissed, arching his back into your touch. You worked your fingers into his muscles, another shameless moan escaping his lips. “Just like that.”

Dualscar The Orphaner, Feeder of the Deep One wasn’t usually so… vocal.

“Mindfang is just so infuriating.”He moped. “That’s the third trade ship this sweep that she’s raided… the third fuckin’ one! That ship had off-world product on it! Four hundred and thirteen kilos of Timoorian steel just gone. She’s probably selling it off to the rebellion for a killing. It'd be endearing were she not such a piss poor kismesis…. She does this all the time. Wind me up with enough hatred to turn my bloodpump black then just fuck off to glub knows where doing glub knows what just leaving me stewing in my own concupiscent rage.”

Ah. He was chatty drunk tonight….

He went on and on as you worked his muscles, babbling like a brook. Mindfang this. The Condesce and Gl'Bgolyb that. You wanted nothing more than to zone out, but a talkative drunk could slip up information that could be used against him. So you listened, giving a thoughtful hum whenever the situation demanded, learning more and more about the intergalactic price of raw dafad wool against your will.

His monologue began to peter off after what felt like hours.

“Do you know why I chose you to be my personal attendant?” He asked suddenly, propping himself up just a bit.

“Because you’re not threatened by me.” You replied without hesitation. “And even if I tried anything an ocean surrounds us so there’s nowhere for me to go.”

“Well don’t we have a smarty pants here… Didn’t realize you could talk so much.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You muttered under your breath.

Dualscar turned his head to grin at you cheekily, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you under him. “So small.” He murmured. “With such a smart little mouth.”

He was intimidating even on the best of days, but pinned by his weight with his face only inches from your own…. You couldn’t help but swallow thickly as you caught a glimpse of his shark-like teeth.

“Such fragile skin.” His grin widened, teeth so sharp…. So sharp, you could swear you saw serration on the edges. Not the uneven rows of a bull or mako shark… but the perfect even triangles of a great white. The troll bent his head down, tracing his lips along your jaw and down your neck. “I could kill you right now.” His breath was cool against your skin, the bristly hair on his chin scratching against you. “It would be so easy….” He dragged his teeth along the length of your throat, just hard enough for you to feel it.

“… To rip your windpipe right out with my teeth.”

It was all you could do to keep still as he gently bit down, cold sweat covering your skin. No self defense class had prepared you for this. You could feel your limbs trembling as you stared up at the ceiling, view obscured by his bright orange horns.

“Not that I would of course,” He murmured into your neck, chuckling as he pulled back just enough to plant a soft kiss where his teeth had been a moment ago.

You exhaled shakily, and he pressed his lips against your throat again, laughing. “There’s nothing to be scared of… I’m not actually going to hurt you.”

You gave a nervous chuckle, hyper-aware as the prickle of his stubble left your skin as he brought his face back up, pupils blown wide as his eyes met yours, cheeks flushed a deep lilac hue. Your breath hitched in your chest….

Dualscar was a handsome man, Probably one of the most handsome men you had met; Troll or human. High cheekbones, thick black hair, violet eyes framed by golden sclera and long dark lashes… even the thin jagged lines that scarred his otherwise perfect face gave him character.

He loomed over you, his weight on your arms was almost unbearably uncomfortable at this point, pins and needles prickling along your veins, as his eyes bored into your own. Until he closed them, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours gently as though testing the waters. You melted against him faster than you would ever care to admit, and you could feel the smile on his lips. His fingers lit fires under your skin as they slid down your arm to your waist and up against the small of your back. How long had it been since you’d felt the comfort of an embrace…?

Passionate. Insistent. Desperate.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer. You could taste sea salt and his drink, bitter and slightly citrusy, on his lips… So different from what you were used to.

His cool skin was a balm to the heated way he kissed you. You gasped as he groped your ass, claws pricking through the fabric of your pants, taking the opportunity to unceremoniously shove his tongue in your mouth. He absolutely reeked of alcohol but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, getting lost in the cold, foreign feeling as he explored your mouth.

You followed as he retreated, nipping his lower lip before running your tongue along it. He moaned, breath ragged as you dragged your nails along his scalp and behind his fins. You kissed him deeply, hands curling around his horns.

He gabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, Dualscar’s voice just a low growl in your ear.

“No.”

You whined as he nipped your jaw, lathing over the spot with his cool tongue. His free hand slipping under your shirt, blunted claws scraping against your skin as he kissed along your jawline and back up to your mouth. It was hot and needy, grinding his groin against your leg.

You pulled back, ducking your head to kiss his neck. He moaned, hand exploring your chest, thumb rubbing over a nipple, sending a shiver down your spine.

After a few more minutes, of licking and sucking his neck, careful to avoid the sharp plates in his gills, he finally sat up, breath ragged as he looked at you. Nudging you off the bed.

It was unexpected… and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done something wrong before he spoke once more.

“Now strip.” He was looking at you with a lazy smile, sitting upright, legs crossed.

You flushed, pausing for a moment, mouth slightly agape. The kissing, the groping, the humping… you had figured it would lead up to this, but you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Sure, plenty of people had seen you naked before, but this was far from your forte. It wasn’t that you were a prude or anything… but it had been longer than you’d like to admit. In your younger years you had been so focused on excelling in school, and completing college that romance hadn’t been your primary concern. You’d had a couple of datemates, but it usually didn’t last very long anyways. And since you’d landed on Alternia it wasn’t like you even really thought about romance… probably something about too busy trying to survive to really care.

You must have been taking too long because Dualscar reached out and took your hand in his, pressing his lips to your palm, dragging his sharp teeth along your skin. Giving you an altogether disarmingly charming smile.

#dualscar #dualscar ampora #dalish mail #suggestive #thundersou applesauce #feeling thorny

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huihuiheart · 4 years ago

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Savior - Felix Drabble

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Stray Kids Masterlist

For my April Drabble Event based on this

Req: Can I request a supernatural au (vampire au) with felix with some smut maybe? trope 9 + prompt 8? - 9. strangers to lovers + 8. “wait, wait. say that again. please.”

Pairing: Vampire! Felix x Fem! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Smut

Summary: Things were about to go very poorly for you, until a vampire stepped in anyways. If only he knew why he had...

Warnings: Kidnapping themes, violent themes, vampire themes, biting, blood, implied smut.

Word Count: 1,381

Being a woman in this world meant that there was a lot to fear, and whether you let those fears dictate your decisions or not they always hovered in the back of your mind. Haunting you and making you hyper-aware in any situation. Like how you knew it was a stupid idea to walk home alone at night, particularly now while your roommate was away and there was no one to get you help if you never made it home. That feeling already worrisome as it was, let alone when footsteps started to approach you. It wasn’t impossible that another person was out at this time as well, it was just extremely unlikely. Your anxiety spiking further upon realizing it wasn’t just one set of footsteps either, but a group that was trailing behind you.

Too many thoughts flooded your brain at once for you to be able to decipher through them, all you knew was that you had a gut feeling that you were screwed. That this is when it all would be over and you could only hope it was quick. As someone finally reached out and grabbed you, your fight or flight instincts truly kicked in, but in the heat of the moment, it’s hard to differentiate between logic and desperation. Any sounds quickly muffled by one of the men not currently attempting to restrain your flailing limbs as they drag you into an alleyway. Their goal now was simply to knock you out and drag you away never to be seen again, something that was working as your world faded away and your eyes closed, your body giving up. What they hadn’t counted on was that someone had noticed what was going on and they weren’t just going to let it happen.

Felix was not unaware of the terrors of the night, him being known to be one of them. Yet, there were things even he wouldn’t do...an odd trait for a vampire, yes, but even still a sense of morality prevailed in him. So while other vampires may have noticed your situation and moved along saying that was the way of the world, just how stupid humans lived...he could not bring himself to do the same. Despite being gifted in comparison to humans, taking on six men, however, would be a stretch even to him and would likely result in some unpleasant consequences.

___________________________________________________

Felix had no need for sleep, but even if he had he wasn’t sure tonight would have been filled with much for him. Feeling an odd mix of guilt and concern, both emotions unfamiliar to him. Something he’s never felt before, yet somehow a stranger who had yet to say a single word to him managed to draw them out of him. Concern over your condition, and guilt for breaking a part of his moral code for the first time. He, unlike most vampires, prefers to feed only on those who are alright with it. In this case, however, he didn’t ask you before he went ahead. The mark left on your neck, clear evidence. He was not left with much choice, having been wounded, he needed to feed otherwise it would not have healed and he would have bled out before getting either of you to safety, and yet it was tearing him up that he couldn’t ask before doing it.

You began to stir when he dabbed a fresh, damp cloth against your forehead. The motion captures Felix’s attention, as he backs up slightly to not startle you any more than you certainly would be when you woke up. Your eyes shoot open, as you try to bolt up only to be stopped short of sitting by a shooting pain in your ribs.

“Easy, they managed to do quite some damage before I got there. Sorry, I wasn’t able to come to help you sooner...or take you somewhere familiar to you. I haven’t the slightest clue who you are or where I should have taken you, especially in your state.” Felix speaks softly, however, you jump, either way, looking at him frightened, “It’s alright, I didn’t let those men take you. You’re safe here. Though if you’d like to leave you’re more than welcome. I’d just suggest going to a doctor's or to someone’s home where they can help you while you continue to recover. It also might be good to add security at your home just in case those men knew more about you or anything....creeps...”

You’re still, understandably, wary of Felix, yet his voice sounds familiar to the one you heard last night right before the sounds of a fight. So his story didn’t seem entirely preposterous.

“I don’t really feel all too comfortable here alone with you, but I can’t afford to go to the doctors either...so I’m honestly not quite sure what to do...” You admit quietly and Felix nods before moving. You watch as he brings your belongings over to the bed.

“Your phone should still be in there too if you want to call someone to get you, I’ll give you the address to give them.” He suggests before frowning slightly, “Either way though, there is something that I should apologize to you about before you go.”

You looked at him with furrowed brows, if he had saved you then what could he possibly have to apologize for, “ Alright, what is it?”

“I...I um bit you...I know it seems strange, but the reason I was able to save you is because I’m a vampire.” Felix flashes his fangs at you for a moment, “ The reason I was able to take on so many people is because of that, but I was badly injured in the process...I would have bled out if I hadn’t fed on you...and I didn’t want to risk anything else happening since we weren’t really in a safe area...usually I would never do that without your permission, but I didn’t really have a lot of options at that point.”

You blinked at him, too stunned to entirely process his claims in addition to everything else. Numb to it even as he put some of his blood on your wounds to help you heal more, deciding just to go home for the time being.

___________________________________________________

Fate would have it, however, that you and Felix continued to run into each other. Him occasionally gracing you with a cup of coffee in pacing had he noticed you, but never doing much more than small talk or that simple gesture unless you initiated more.

“Felix...I wanted to let you know that I forgive you. For biting me. I understand why you did it and I’m not upset. You saved me after all, so it’s only fair. Besides what I thought was a little innocent crush on my savior might be more, so I certainly can’t stay mad at you.” You smile at him, in effect stunning the vampire for the first time throughout your exchanges.

“Wait, wait. say that again. please,” Felix whispers out.

“What? That I forgive you?” You giggle shyly, feeling your cheeks heat slightly at the turn the conversation is taking.

“No, no the other part.” Felix shakes his head with a chuckle.

“I have more than just a simple crush on you Felix...is that okay?” You question making him laugh and nod eagerly.

“It’s more than okay...I thought I was the only one.”

_________________________________________________________

“Happy anniversary baby.” Felix’s gravely morning voice flows into your ear as he delicately kisses at the most recent marks he’s littered over your neck, “It’s hard to believe it’s already been a year.”

“It’s hard to believe you’re waking me up this early.” You groaned, still half asleep as Felix chuckles.

“You know I don’t need to sleep...besides I’m eager to get today started with you...if you wake up for me, I promise to make it up to you.” Felix nips at your neck, his fangs making the slightest of appearances.

“Oh? And how exactly do you intend to do that?” You roll onto your back, making him move away from your neck to smirk wickedly at you before moving to hover over you.

“Oh lots of ways come to mind, but these clothes are in the way of every single one of them~”

Note: I know it’s a little rushed at certain parts, and that it cuts right before it gets to the smut (I felt like teasing 😜), but I’m making a not to continue this at some point and give you a full vamp! Felix work based on this.

#april drabble event #stray kids smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #stray kids x reader #felix lee smut #felix smut #felix imagine #felix x reader

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

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True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good!

More to come in this series soon :)

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over. He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.

#obey me #obey me fandom #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfic

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emotionallyits2009 · 4 years ago

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cas and dean’s top 13 the national traxx

side A: cas’s top 13 the national traxx

tall saint (“tall saint i'm devoted with a glass of champagne to you/bubbles to the chandelier/i'm in your hands tonight, tall saint/stay behind me”)

wasp nest (“you're all humming live wires under your killing clothes/get over here, i wanna kiss your skinny throat/you're a wasp nest”)

brainy (“i’ve been dragging around from the end of your coat for two weeks/everywhere you go is swirling/everything you say has water under it/you know i keep your fingerprints in a pink folder in the middle of my table/you're the tall kingdom i surround, think i better follow you around”)

graceless (“graceless/i'm trying but i'm gone/through the glass again/just come and find me”)

bloodbuzz ohio (“lay my head on the hood of your car/i take it too far/.../i never thought about love when i thought about home”)

vanderlyle crybaby geeks (“all the very best of us string ourselves up for love”)

daughters of the soho riots (“break my arms around the one i love and be forgiven by the time my lover comes/break my arms around my love”)

anyone’s ghost (“didn't want to be your ghost/didn't want to be anyone's ghost/but i don't want anybody else/i don't want anybody else”)

lemonworld (“i’m too tired to drive anywhere, anyway right now/do you care if i stay”)

start a war (“you were always weird but i never had to hold you by the edges/like i do now/walk away now and you're gonna start a war”)

i am easy to find (“i'm not going anywhere/who do i think i’m kidding/i'm still standing in the same place/where you left me standing/i am easy to find”)

so far so fast (“lay down in the doorway/in front of me/make yourself impossible/for me to leave”)

cardinal song (“never tell the one you want that you do/save it for the deathbed”)

side B: dean’s top 13 the national traxx

all the wine (“i carry the dollhouse safe on my shoulders/through the black city, nightlights are on in the corners/and everyone's sleeping upstairs/all safe and sound”)

hey rosey (“i'm the rocks they weigh down the angels with/help me see it won't always be like this/.../i will love you like there's razors in it/and she'll love you like a radiant flame/there's never really any safety in it”)

sorrow (“don't leave my hyper heart alone on the water/cover me in rag and bone sympathy/‘cause i don't wanna get over you”)

don’t swallow the cap (“i have faith but don't believe it/it's not there enough to leave it”)

oblivions (“it's almost like you're not afraid of anything i do/how i want you here/you don't know what it's like to be around you/i still got my fear”)

val jester (“‘cause one day when she goes/she’s gone/you should have held onto her better/you should have held onto her more/you should have locked the door”)

about today (“i was far away/you just walked away/and i just watched you/what could i say”)

without permission (“so where did you go/and do you now know how to be happy/’cause here well it's pretty clear/when you're not near me i am unhappy”)

sleep well beast (“your voice was low, blended in, i could barely hear you speak/you were always my last second, last ride in the distance/thought that we were something good/that i would always keep”)

day i die (“the day i die, the day i die/where will we be?/don't do this, i don't do this to you/don't expect me to enjoy it”)

i need my girl (“i keep feeling smaller and smaller/i need my girl”)

lucky you (“you could have made a safer bet/but what you break is what you get/you wake up in the bed you make/i think you made a big mistake/you own me/there’s nothing you can do”)

slow show (“i wanna hurry home to you/put on a slow dumb show for you and crack you up”)

#destiel #deancas #supernational

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xocasper · 3 years ago

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(Jet Black) Hotel Mirror

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader Summary: At long last, you're spending the night in a hotel. Your plans are showering and sleep, but a bit of sex wouldn't be a terrible inconvenience. Warnings: NSFW content Tags: dirty talk, mirror sex, orgasm denial, rough sex Word Count: 2169 A/N: Holy shit, I had a busy week. Hopefully this week won't be quite as busy and I'll have more time to write! I have a pretty good idea for a fic right now, but I'll have to do a bit of research before I attempt to write it (aka I have no idea how threesomes work). Anyway, enjoy this fic that I finished on my lunch break :)

You slammed your sticks against your drum kit, playing the last song of the set with as much energy as you could muster. Your eyes drifted from the sea of spirited fans to Frank, who was hyper as ever, before finally setting your sights on your boyfriend, Mikey. He had slowly grown more comfortable on stage, stepping out of his microscopic comfort zone every now and then. He looked up at you as the chorus hit, sending you a smile while his fingers danced across the bass.

The two of you had been close since you joined the band back in 2004. They needed a drummer on very short notice, and luckily you were friends with Brian and he talked you up enough that they decided to meet you. Though skeptical at first, the band was very impressed with your drumming skills. Now here you were, three years and an album later, playing your heart out on stage for thousands of people.

As the lights dimmed and Gerard’s voice faded out, you felt a wave of exhaustion crash over you. Thankfully you would be staying in a hotel room tonight, and you were more than grateful to have a real bed to sleep in; that is, if Mikey let you get any sleep.

The adrenaline was still high backstage, which was to be expected at this point. A pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, eyes fluttering shut as your boyfriend rested his chin on your head. “You did really great tonight,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah? I thought I messed up a bit during House of Wolves, but–” He cut off your sentence, shushing you gently. “You did perfect, don’t worry.” You turned around in his arms, staring up at him lovingly, his gaze holding the same passion. His lips were mere millimeters from yours when you were interrupted.

“Get a room!” Frank yelled, pretending to vomit. “Yeah, can you make out with my little brother somewhere else? Preferably when we’re not around?” Gerard piped up, Mikey huffing in defeat. “We’re staying in a hotel tonight, so you guys can be as gross as you want later,” Ray reminded you, and as if on cue, Brian walked over ushering everyone outside, insisting that you needed to rest.

The ride to the hotel was peaceful; no one bothered to go to their bunk, knowing that if they went down for a nap before you arrived, they’d be a pain to wake up. As hard as you tried to stay awake, Mikey’s embrace was far too comfortable and you could feel yourself dozing off in his arms, whatever conversation they were having turning to white noise.

He shook you gently as the bus stopped, kissing your forehead as you rubbed your eyes. His hand slipped into yours as he pulled you up, leading you outside where the cold jolted you awake. “Shit, it’s cold out,” you mumbled, and he laughed as you gripped him for warmth. “Woke you up real fast, huh?” he teased, earning him a playful shove.

Ray went to grab the room keys while the rest of you stood around, sticking out like a sore thumb against the beige walls. “Alright, rock paper scissors for whoever takes the room next to them,” Frank said, facing Gerard who rolled his eyes at the proposition. “There’s no way in hell I’m sharing a wall with them again.” You raised your eyebrows at them, torn between embarrassment and amusement, while Mikey stayed stoic as usual, biting back an arrogant remark that would definitely have him sleeping on the floor.

“You guys are so dramatic,” you said, halting their game. “Nah, we almost called the police the first night, sounded like someone was slaughtering you,” he grinned. “Jealousy’s a bitch, Frank,” you smiled back, Ray walking over before he could say anything else.

The second Mikey got the key, he was pulling you into the elevator, hardly waiting for everyone else. Another game of rock paper scissors ensued, followed by a groan from Frank as he lost for the third time. He started to grumble something about sleeping in the lobby, but you missed the end of it when the doors opened, Mikey wasting no time dragging you off to your room.

The second the door shut, his lips were pressed against yours, hands on your hips as he gave you the first real kiss in a long while. It was hard to get privacy with the guys around, so kisses were short and sex bordered on nonexistent. Occasionally you could hide somewhere long enough to relieve the tension, but most of the time you found yourself waiting for hotel stays.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you told him, giving him one more kiss before heading off to the bathroom. He furrowed his brows, confused and a bit hurt, trailing after you. “You could shower later,” he said, and you smiled gently, willing to compromise. “Or you could join me?”

He seemed to like the idea, hand on your lower back as you stepped into the bathroom. It was actually clean, which was a bit of a shock at first, but the hotel was nicer than some of the others you’d stayed in. There were warm disc lights above the sink, casting a soft glow upon the two of you. The countertop stretched across the wall, a good five feet or so, with a wide mirror covering the wall behind it.

Mikey stared into the mirror, meeting your gaze, back to having no interest in showering. You looked back at him, stomach fluttering as you had the same thought. He grinned and bent down to your neck, holding eye contact as he whispered against your skin. “Or we could shower later,” he proposed once more, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You tried to hold your ground though, shaking your head and beginning to strip, avoiding his gaze to not give in.

He copied you, stripping down to nothing and giving you a sweet kiss. Your self-control crumbled as he stood before you, his lips turning a loving kiss into a lustful one almost as soon as it started. Damn, he was good.

He knew it too, trying not to smirk as his hands slid up your body, yours tangled in his hair, shower long forgotten. His tongue traced your bottom lip, and you almost resisted and returned to your original task, but with his soft hands and warm mouth, you couldn’t find it in you to be stubborn.

His fingers brushed against your cheek before pulling you closer, tongue sliding against yours. A shit-eating grin crept across his face as he pulled away, knowing he had gotten his way. You were still dizzy from his kiss, ignoring his pride and pulling him right back to you. The two of you tripped all the way to the counter, leaning against it as he placed wet kisses down your neck.

The countertop was cold against your thighs but Mikey was warm, his hands massaging them as his mouth skimmed across your chest. He brought his fingers to your mouth, groaning as you sucked on them. They glided down to your core as he kissed you messily, tugging lightly on your lip as he pulled away. “Were you thinking about this during the show?” he asked you, fingers sweeping across your slick folds. A shaky sigh passed your lips, and you nodded gently.

“Use your words, c’mon,” he mumbled, still barely touching you. “Yeah, ‘m always thinking about you,” you breathed, wiggling in hopes of friction, but he pulled his hand away. You whined softly, already missing his touch, but he just chuckled cynically. “Do you want something?” So he was going to be an ass about it.

“You know what I want, Mikey,” you huffed, and he raised his eyebrows in return. “I don’t think so. How ‘bout you tell me?” You could feel your stomach burning with embarrassment, but it seeped lower, turning into arousal as he waited for you to speak. He clicked his tongue impatiently, tossing his hands up and backing up further.

“Where are you going?” you asked a bit too quickly. “I can’t help you if you can’t tell me what you want.” He stopped as he said it, and you gave in. “I want you, Mikey.” Obviously this wasn’t enough for him, but he at least turned around. “Specifics, baby,” he told you, walking closer. It took all of your strength to not glare at him, looking him up and down and deciding it was worth the embarrassment.

“I want you to fuck me.” Miraculously, he still wasn’t satisfied. “How?” he asked, hands back on your thighs. “With your fingers, then your–” your breath hitched as he left an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “Then my what, hun?” His lips were placed right below your ear, waiting with a slew of lewd words. “Want you to fuck me hard with your cock, Mikey,” you said, burning with humiliation, but just as before, it relocated between your legs. He moaned softly below your ear, nipping your skin softly before turning you around.

You watched in the mirror as his hands slid down your body, stroking the inside of your thighs before they trailed up to your dripping cunt. He took his time, thumb barely brushing across the skin, gathering your wetness on his fingers before touching you properly. He pushed one in gently, your breath catching in your throat, followed by a moan as he pressed his thumb to your clit.

Every touch was dizzying, varying between gentle strokes and the sudden curl of his finger, head tipping back as he added another, spreading you open for you to see. He used his other hand to pull your chin back down, having you watch as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

He went at a solid pace, reveling in the garbled praise he received while curses and slurred phrases fell from your lips. He circled your clit as you felt your muscles tighten, legs becoming unsteady as you gripped the countertop.

“Mikey, fuck, I’m gonna–” you said, staring at his reflection as he pulled away, listening to your pathetic cries with a wicked smile. “Nah, I don’t think you will,” he replied, tongue swirling around his fingers, making a show of it. You gaped at him, searching for words but also knowing not to complain. He could tell what you were thinking, speaking up for you. “Good things come to those who wait,” he told you, and you rolled your eyes at the stupid saying. “You can get yourself off if you want, or you can wait for me to fuck you,” he mumbled in your ear, now returned to his previous position, hands resting on your waist.

“Please,” you breathed, watching his eyes trace your body in the mirror, committing it to memory. “You’re gonna watch yourself come apart on my cock, yeah? Are you wet knowing you’ll get to see me fuck you?” Your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, and he sucked on the crook of your neck, hands coming to rest beside yours.

He leaned forward, lining himself up with you before pushing in slowly. A stammered ‘shit’ slipped out as he delved further. He moaned softly as you took every inch, cunt warm and wet, desperately waiting for a sign to continue. After another mumbled ‘please,’ he kept going, pulling back before thrusting in again, face contorted in pleasure.

You watched as he pounded into you, a cacophony of moans and names encased the two of you, unable to process anything but each other. He moved his hands back to your skin, one diving down to your clit, the other cupping your breast.

It was all too much, going dumb over his touch. “I’m gonna—“ you moaned out, only for him to cut you off. “You can wait,” he muttered back, thrusts growing sloppier each time. You let out an uncontrollable sob as he denied you, feeling as if you’d burst if you had to wait any longer.

“Please let me come,” you pleaded, breath shaking as you locked eyes with him. He took pity on you, humming in question. You could tell he was close, growing louder as you clenched around him. “Fuck, come with me,” he commanded, your vision darkening as he released inside of you, continuing to fuck you as you held yourself up against the countertop, body weak from the exertion.

He stayed inside for a minute and kept his arms wrapped around you, surveying your dazed expression. Your hair was a mess, lips wet and skin blemished, pupils still dilated, and you were practically hearing colors. “Damn,” you said, incapable of forming words. He laughed quietly behind you, “Yeah.”

You hauled yourself up, resting against his chest and tilting your head up to look at him, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I think it’s time for that shower.”

taglist:

@lubbockshusband

#mikey way x reader #mikey way #mikey way smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut #my chemical romance

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