#but I’ve only got two weeks ish left then I’m home free!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkblot-inc · 2 years ago

Text

Rough Cut Diamonds

Summary: Wanda Maximoff; one of the biggest names in designer and fashion jewelry, has to stoop down to a level she probably would never have gone herself as she stops by a metal shop to hopefully get a gift done for a friend. While there, she meets R, a metalworker with exceptional skill that might just earn Wanda's respect…and something else.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

[Everything else in the RCD Universe]

Warning(s): There’s smut so 18+ ONLY aka MINORS DNI, oral sex (Wanda recieving), strap-on use (r giving), other than that what else?... I mean there’s most likely language in there, but coming from me you shouldn’t be surprised if there is-

Note(s): So like, Jeweler!Wanda only makes sense to me when thinking of occupations, that paired with a Metalworker!Reader could make for an interesting dynamic. That’s really all it took for me to write this thing, so here's a Pilot. There’s actually a few other characters mentioned here. Maybe I’ll write more for this AU of sorts, but anyways, hope you enjoy :3

Word Count: A good bit past 4.2k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

Wanda Maximoff, CEO of Maximoff Jewelers. One of the biggest names in designer and fashion jewelry.

Maximoff would be one of the first names said by the everyday person, mentioned among Gumuchian and David Yurman. Your Cartier’s and Bulgari’s, if you will. A staggering feat for what started as a home company based in New York.

While Wanda Maximoff herself is known for her solid presence and upper echelon beauty, her trademark look is her hands: always adorned with her own rings. A mix of her “rookie creations” and her favorite pieces from her line releases.

In our interview with Wanda Maximoff for the March Editor's Choice Article, Maximoff readily said that she has worked to master her craft and artistry for just over a decade, and that her work thrives off of her ambition. Her own distinct engravings and designs are handcrafted with custom soldering tools and specially imported metals from all over.

Maximoff jewelry designs are a rather alluring mix of gothic academia with usage of stones reminiscent of the Renaissance era. There's no need to wonder why Maximoff Jewelers is one of the most lucrative brands in our time-

"And why every person from fashion forward sons to best friends with shockingly good taste want a sneak peak at the Redeemer line set to release before the end of the year!"

Wanda snatched the magazine from her friend's hands. "Enough already, I've got enough of that from Monica." She took a sip from her freshly brewed coffee while she looked through her work notes. There was an upcoming sponsor deal to hash out and get meetings settled in for the following week. And today was simply a maintenance day squeezed into her usual work week.

Kate looked up in the middle of getting her own bag together for work. “Are we still on for lunch this afternoon?”

Wanda grabbed her thermos of coffee as she thought over her schedule. “Mm, I should be free around two o’clock-ish. It really depends on how the timing shakes out.”

Wanda only heard the brunette give a small hum at her answer as she followed her out of the apartment. “You kept the first week of April free though, right?”

The two women left Kate’s apartment to make their way to the elevator, Wanda reaching said elevator first. “I didn’t forget about your birthday, Kate. You’ve made it impossible for me to, anyway.”

Kate got in after Wanda held the elevator door open for her. “I’m just saying, I’ve seen nary a suspicious anonymous online purchase or shifty bag movement. There was nothing I liked in your trunk either.”

Wanda merely raised a brow as she listened to the brunette ramble on. “Well, aside from breaking into my vehicle, I guess you’re not as good at being nosy as you think you are,”

Kate let out a fake gasp, both of them stepping out after reaching the ground floor. “How dare! I’m going to find out one way or another, Wands. You will not be immune!”

Wanda stopped once they reached the lobby to root through her bag for her car keys. “Mhm, gotcha. Are you done?”

“Eh, enough. Have a good day at work!” Kate burst out of the front doors to the apartment building as she walked the opposite way to her job.

Wanda briefly chuckled to herself as she reached her car. Getting in, she started it up and set her bag in the passenger seat.

She took a moment before she reached for the glove box. Behind important envelopes and documents inside was a nondescript tote bag. More documents and such were inside, but laying at the bottom (presumably due to its weight) was the broken hilt of a sword.

“Thankfully you weren't nosy enough, Bishop.”

—---------

You run a workshop just off the strip not too far from Wanda’s penthouse apartment.

You do a bit of everything, all it takes is an idea or commission really. You’ve made ornaments, sculptures, some abstract work, zippo lighters, and even a few weapons…for display of course.

You’ve been doing metalwork for as long as you can remember, even started working in highschool. Your mentor Logan is a bit of a hard ass, but his biggest rule is to make quality shit because “Your work is an extension of you”. He also said to keep protection on you in and out of the workshop.

A wise man indeed…

It was late in the afternoon with only about an hour and a half till closing. You spent most of the day doing independent projects that you would wind up selling online later on. With Cable out of the shop, you currently took to manning the Maker’s Damned aux cord when you heard the bell above the entrance door jingle…

Wanda remembered there was a metal shop around her place somewhere before coming across “The Maker’s Damned”. Walking into the shop she almost felt itchy. She was hit with the immediate temperature difference, accompanied with the telltale citrus scent of cleaning fluid. Wanda hadn’t been in a shop like this probably since she was just a teenager back home in Sokovia. Danko’s shop wasn’t much smaller in comparison to this though.

While Wanda could see the wear and tear of the place, it still managed to feel homey in a way that she couldn’t really turn her nose up at it.

“Something I can help you with, miss?”

Turning toward the sudden voice Wanda met eyes with you. She was then reminded why she was here in the first place with the weight of a broken sword in the bag she brought.

Clearing her throat, Wanda opened the bag for you to see. “I wanted to see if I could get this piece fixed for a friend.”

You quirked an eyebrow at the item in the bag. “A sword?”

Wanda opened the bag wider for you to see. “Yes, it’s supposed to be a replica of the Ronin sword,”

“I love those movies!” Your eyes lit up in recognition of the design, except the blade was broken inside the sheath.

Wanda’s eyes held a bit of mirth as she looked at you, “Of course you do.”

You almost reach your hands out to take a closer look, “May I?”

Wanda nodded, holding the bag open as you grabbed the pieces. You noticed all the rings on her hands as a few of them caught the light.

You listened as Wanda told you about her good friend Kate’s birthday that was coming up and the girl had been complaining about how her dog Lucky knocked over her “baby” and needed to get it fixed.

Now, why exactly Kate insisted on having a sword as a centerpiece in her apartment is something Wanda didn’t even want to begin questioning, but here she was…

Assessing the damage, you look up at the well-dressed woman. “I can work with this if you feel like, miss…”

“Wanda. Just Wanda is fine…Skitch?”

You chuckle as you see her squint trying to read your name patch. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. It’s Skitch in the shop. If you’ll follow me, I can start looking at the sword at my station."

It wasn’t that you didn’t know who Wanda was, it’s just a matter of being professional.

Both of you made your way toward the back of the workshop, passing other metalworkers busy with their own projects.

“It is an active environment and most of these guys are messy, so just make sure you watch where you step.”

The Maker’s Damned is definitely different from her own workspace. The idle chatter mixed with classics playing on the stereo made the atmosphere casual, light. There were more divots and uneven grooves in the epoxy floors than Wanda was used to, but it wasn’t cumbersome.

Both of you reach your labeled workstation. It’s relatively tidy and you shuffle away some scattered blueprints to make room for the sword on the table before sitting down in your desk chair.

“Normally I’d have you see Nathan to get a price estimate for the job, but he’s gone out for parts, so you get my eval,” You look back and meet Wanda’s eyes for a good second.

‘God she’s pretty. Shut up, you gotta focus.’

As you get to examining the replica, Wanda looks you up and down. The sleeves of your welding shacket rolled up to the elbows, fitting snug around your biceps as you manage to free the broken blade from the sheath in one piece and set it next to the hilt.

Her eyes dart back up when you turn to face her. “How much did your friend pay for this initially?”

Wanda shrugged, “Something like six thousand dollars or so. It’s an authentic replica,”

You purse your lips as you eyed the hilt. “They got skimmed on that authentic bit,” You gave a firm shake to the hilt and showed her the thin piece of metal that fell out. “That’s a push tang.”

You watched her brows furrow. “Is there something wrong with it or? -”

“There shouldn’t be one at all. Ronin's sword was made to be retractable. There’s not a single rotation mechanism or spring mechanic in this thing.”

Though Wanda was amused, she scoffed, “Well I’m sure she knew that when she bought it. Retractable swords don’t actually exist.”

You tossed your head back and forth a bit before settling on a smirk. “Challenge accepted.”

Wanda gave a smile of her own as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You realize that you’re making more work for yourself. You could just repair it as it was.”

It was a test of some sort you realize, but you respond honestly, “I’ve got no problem with that. If I succeed, I guess I’ll just be the first. Plus, I’m a Ronin fan.”

You shrug as you spin your chair to fully face Wanda, the view tilting your head up at her as Wanda comes a bit closer. “And what about the price?”

You give yourself a second to try and think as you feel the cool metal of the jewelry on her hands meeting your shoulder and resting there. “Well, the original price was fifteen hundred. Considering that the material’s all here and with the quality of the piece I'm working with, I'm simply not gonna reforge this... It’s supposed to be a gift you said? I’m sure we can work a discount out with that.” You eye the hand on your shoulder as she gave it a brief squeeze before it returned to her side.

You’d both talked it over from there as you told Wanda that you should have the sword ready to go by the end of the week, it only being Tuesday, the idea for improvements already whirring around.

There was a noticeable tension by the time she left your workshop, a subtle sway in her hips and your personal number between her fingers on the card you gave her. You’d be seeing her in three days, so it was time to get to work.

-----

It was a busy week for Wanda at the manufacturing building, but production is still moving smoothly in preparation for the upcoming release of her Redeemer Collection in a few weeks' time.

As Wanda drove down the busy streets, she couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy. Today she’d come in to pick up and pay for the Ronin replica and see you again. She hadn’t used the number you gave her, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t think about it…Or you. Quite the opposite actually.

Kate noticed the difference in her mood when they met up again after she left her building for the day. As the next head of a security company, Kate picked up on just about everything that wasn’t related to herself. After a good bit of pestering, Wanda eventually admitted that she’d run into someone that she’d taken a liking to a few days ago. The jeweler left out a lot of the details of how the two of you met, only that she’d chatted with someone while at work. Any more and Kate would get too curious for her own good.

Wanda parked curbside and took her heels off to change into a pair of flats that she kept inside before getting out. It was clear and sunny, great weather for the weekend. She put on her sunglasses as she made her way down the strip, looking upward to catch the workshop sign.

Making her way inside, Wanda was more relaxed than last time as she was greeted with the sound of Foo Fighters and the continuous clang of metal. She found you easily.

You’d foregone the longsleeve for a gray wife beater, inked arms on display with a visible sheen. Wanda observed you for a bit as you were in a conversation with an older man dressed similarly. Practically feeling eyes on you, your head turned to meet Wanda’s stare, a quick smile forming at seeing her.

You excused yourself as you made your way over to Wanda, taking her in as well.

“Miss Maximoff, ‘afternoon.”

Wanda gave a quick laugh through her nose, “Please I just spent the last few hours being called ‘miss Maximoff’, no more for the day.”

“Alright I’ll drop it. Just wanted to be courteous.” There’s a playful smirk on your face as you watch her move her sunglasses up onto her head.

You catch your tongue between your teeth for a second before nodding toward the back. “Come on, I’ll show you the blade then.”

The two of you took the familiar path to the back before going past all the workstations. Idle chatter in between, a few stolen glances here and there. You used your key to unlock the door to your back office, holding the door open to let her pass through first.

You just went through yourself when you hear a voice boom from not too far away. “Remember what I said Skitch! I don’t need Hank on my ass ‘bout noise, you hear?!”

You could feel a bit of heat bloom on your cheeks, “Yuh huh Boss! I better not hear shit when Jean comes to drop off your lunch either!”

You only heard his gruff laugh in response before closing the door in place. “And for what, man?” mumbling to yourself, you made your way over to the closet with all your finished projects, checking the different labels for the sword. Peeking out, you saw Wanda looking around your office. There were custom designs and blueprints hung up, A few pictures of you with some of the other faces Wanda can recall seeing around the shop. Now that she was paying attention, it was also cleaner than she expected for a metal junky, the smell of cutting fluid and cleanser was noticeably lighter.

“Here it is,” You pulled what was the handle of the ronin sword out to display.

Wanda came a bit closer with her arms crossed. “And this blade is supposed to…pop out, and pop back in?”

She’s seen Ronin before, how could she not? One of her closest friends is the star of the franchise. But it was made with fictional tech in a world of fiction. By all accounts, a real retractable sword is impossible…

Or it was anyway.

Wanda watched as you took a step back before pressing a button you must have installed on the handle’ side. Next thing Wanda knew, there was a blade in the place of the empty space occupying the hilt.

You playfully bounced your eyebrows as you looked at the blade, it held up extremely well. You grabbed a blank piece of scrap paper and held it out and upward before running the edge of the blade across it, easily slicing through it with no effort. A testament to how well the sword was sharpened.

With another press of the button, the blade hid itself away back in the Habaki with no fuss. The last few sleep-deficient nights had been worth it.

You had a wide grin as you looked to Wanda, who looked every bit as impressed as you felt with yourself. “Now that’s what I like to see huh!”

Wanda conceded a mini round of applause as she went to lean on the edge of your desk. She watched you test it a few more times with some practice swings. “I stand corrected. I have to say I’m vastly impressed Y/n,” She kept a small smile on her face as you continued to admire your handiwork before carefully setting the hidden blade in a custom case. You explained how the sheath was virtually useless now that the blade could retract itself and how you repurposed the material to make a case for the blade instead.

You walked over and presented the sturdy sword case to her on your office desk. “Making the impossible possible baby,”

Your eyes met once again, and you catch Wanda’s eyes dart down without care for getting caught.

“So how much do I owe you?”

You both could feel that same growing tension in spite of the honest avenue of conversation.

“I’d say a thousand even.”

Wanda was taken aback, “That’s more than generous of you Y/n. I don’t mind paying full price; you basically remade the entire sword. It’s probably even worth more than the original six thousand now,”

While moving to gather up the bag the sword came in, you looked over to Wanda flashing a quick smile. “Nah it’s fine, really. This is still classified as a simple repair job after all, plus it was a good challenge. I may wanna get paid but that’s what paychecks are for right? Consider it…Special commission. Respects for another Ronin fan, a favor for a beautiful woman even.”

Placing the sword off to the side, Wanda ran her hands down your arm and over your bicep.

Looking up at you, Wanda’s eyes were a much darker, almost velvet green. “I’m sure we can make that work.”

She brought you closer and your lips crashed together in a kiss that was pent up and hungry, first being a clashing of tongue and teeth before your making out boiled down to something more sensual, like a low rumbling fire and tossing coals. You rested your hands on either side of Wanda on the desk, enclosing her between your arms. Separating briefly to look at you, her pupils were blown out and you wouldn’t doubt that yours were as well.

As you both continued to make out with the addition of wandering hands, you felt Wanda grip the top of your waistband before running her hand over the bulge in your work pants.

“Mm, I want to say this is pretty presumptuous of you,” there was a small upturn to Wanda’s lips as she raised a brow at you.

You merely cocked your head to the side as you appeared to give it thought. “Presumptuous? Maybe. I like the word ‘Prepared’ better. And I always am,”

Leaning forward, you captured Wanda’s lips again before moving to kiss across her jaw to her neck right by her pulse point. "I'd say you're presumptuous though," You bring your hand up and push a hand under the fabric of her top, simply caressing the skin.

"Lookin' this good at the end of the day, what're you doin'? Feels like you're teasin' me almost,"

With your other hand fiddling with the buttons of Wanda’s blouse, you laid light kisses on her newly exposed shoulder and collar bone. You continue, sliding the fabric off to pool around her waist.

"Do you think so?"

Wanda’s breath hitched as her hand kept a hold of the back of your neck as you continued your ministrations and moved lower, becoming preoccupied with her breasts as you licked and sucked. The seemingly constant contrast of her warm skin and cool rings sent you into a bit of a stir as she urged you lower.

Pulling you away from her chest, you looked up to meet her eyes.

“You know that’s not where I need you.”

The blunt statement had you welcoming the pressure pushing you down to your knees, becoming eye level with Wanda’s thighs.

Because you did know where she needed you.

Where she wanted you.

Pulling down her jeans, you left a few kisses along her hip bone as you pulled down her underwear.

You almost feel your mouth begin to water at the sight of Wanda’s exposed pussy. Quickly running your tongue over your bottom lip, you lower your head to lick a stripe over her entrance before lightly sucking her clit into your mouth.

"Right there, baby. Mhm,"

Wanda’s hips buck and spasm into your face as she takes as much pleasure you’re willing to give. Her moans and whimpers are a welcome compliment as one of her hands keeps hold of the back of your head.

You bring a finger up to slide into Wanda, keeping a quick rhythm as you double your efforts on her clit. You feel Wanda's fingers clench in your hair.

"Oh- fuck,"

When Wanda reaches her orgasm, you take all of her as her juices flow into your mouth. Your movements are less feverish as you clean her up. Wanda helps pull you back up to meet her, her hand resting on your chin.

There’s a light smile on your lips as you watch her chest heave slightly.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Wanda gives a quick laugh through her nose in response as she meets your eyes. “Certainly, but we’re far from done here.”

She makes quick work of undoing your belt as you push your pants down revealing your strap on. You take it in your hand as you run the toy along her entrance, getting it wet with her slick. You press kisses to the underside of Wanda’s jaw, nipping by her ear as you push into her, and your hands rest flat on desk as you set a steady pace.

You watch, almost breathless as your cock moves in and out of Wanda, already coated in her juices. "God, you're taking me so well, Wands."

Wanda’s arms rest over your shoulders as her hands grasp the back of your shirt. "Fuck, yes! Right there, Y/n!"

Speeding up, you cover Wanda’s body with your own as you fuck her into the desk. Chasing your own release, you go harder while bringing a hand to Wanda’s hip and pulling her to meet your thrusts with your own grunts following your orgasm.

Wanda cries out as she releases on your strap on and you slow down to help ride out both or your highs, savoring the sweet resistance you meet with Wanda’s pussy as you continue to slide out and in. Your forehead rests on wanda’s as you continue the languid pace, breathing in each other.

-----

Buckling your jeans back up you looked over at Wanda, who was fixing her blouse in the small mirror on your desk. “Y’know I was kinda upset you didn’t call me earlier this week. Could’ve figured details out over say, dinner…”

Wanda looked over her shoulder before turning to you and tucking your wife beater back in your jeans for you. “Well I knew I’d be able to pay for it no matter the cost…And I knew that I was going to see you again, so there was no need to worry about it.”

Fighting a smile, you took one of Wanda’s hands in your own, running your thumb over her knuckles lightly. “What if I still wanted to do that dinner thing tho? Go all in for reservations or just head down to Bravo’s and pick up a pie, eat in at my place,”

After finishing up fixing yourselves, you both made your way back to the front of the shop, you could see the sun starting to set through the window. You decided to walk with Wanda down the street to her car as well.

Opening her car door Wanda turned and gave you a quick peck on the cheek before getting in, rolling her window down afterward. “I’d say that you’ve got a date on your hands there Y/n. Pick me up at, say, five o’clock tomorrow?”

You leaned down to be eye level with her as she started her car up, your arms lightly resting on the window ledge. “And where would I pick you up?”

Her head turned to face you, “We can figure out the details over the phone.”

With a smirk, you stood up straight keeping eye contact with Wanda. “I look forward to your call then.” You watched as Wanda gave you a wave before pulling out onto the street and driving away.

Going back into the workshop, Logan was still in his office, but everyone else went home for the day. You were helping close up, so you got to putting away the power tools and sweeping up debris.

The small smile refusing to leave your face all the while.

You were just about done when your phone buzzed in your pocket. Checking the notification to see an unknown number, you read the text that popped up on your lock screen.

-@ Attica Suites on xxx street, top floor. This is Wanda btw-

You finished putting away the cleaning supplies before you went to respond.

-Y: Alright, got it-

Not even a full minute passed before your phone buzzed again

-W: So when will you be over?-

-Y: For tmr? Probably closer to 4:50-

-W: I meant for tonight, I wanna know if I should leave the door unlocked or not-

Your eyes widened at the text before looking up at the clock hanging on the wall, it was quarter past six. You were closing up early for the weekend anyhow…

You quickly knocked and popped your head into Logan’s office before telling him the shop was ready for lock up. He gave you a gruff response while looking over his papers as you ducked back out.

Getting your jacket from your office and checking your pockets for your key ring you all but sprinted to your truck out back, typing back a response to Wanda while dodging a bin.

-Y: Omw, be there in 20-

#marvel #marvel one shots #rough cut diamonds #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #jeweler!wanda maximoff #metalworker!reader #jeweler!wanda maximoff x metalworker!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x yn #jc inkworks #ink.wanda #ib-jc.

493 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years ago

Text

Love In The Time of Covid: Chapter Two

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

chapter rating: M (talk of Covid/early pandemic, one racy picture, dad!frankie, talks of lockdown, mentions of a previous addiction, i think that’s it?)

word count: 3.6k

authors note: this story is set literally right before the world was sent into full lockdown (march-ish), hence why Frankie is still hanging out with Santi. also, as a swiftie i know Folklore came out in July of 2020 but we’re gonna pretend like it came out in March instead bc i can’t get enough of folklore!frankie :)

series masterlist

Today was the first day after Frankie’s two week quarantine, the negative test result sheet in his hand bringing a smile to his face as he left the clinic to head back home. He had a very busy weekend ahead of him, but before he could enjoy it, he had to break down and clean up his now trashed apartment.

The first thing he did when he got home was fix himself a bowl of cereal, devouring it in record time—something he never seemed to unlearn after his time in the military. After he was finished, he turned on his speaker and connected his phone, his music shuffling until he landed on his favorite song at the moment, singing out the lyrics unabashedly.

“SWEET TEA IN THE SUMMER, CROSS MY HEART WON’T TELL NO OTHER—“ Frankie was in the middle of scrubbing the pile of dishes in his sink when his phone stopped playing music, his ringtone blaring instead. Wiping his hands on a paper towel, he walked over to it on the table and grabbed it, seeing his ex’s name on his screen. With a sigh, he slid the green arrow and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, you’re supposed to have Alondra this week.” He rolled his eyes at her tone.

“Yes.”

“Okay…so…where are you? I’ve got shit to do, Frankie. Can’t wait around all day for you to decide to pick up your daughter.” Frankie lifted the phone from his ear and flipped the screen off before bringing it back.

“I’m cleaning my apartment up, Viviana. I’ll be at your place in a fucking hour. Is that fine? Can your shit wait until then? Or would you like our child to come back to my dirty apartment?” He only heard a sigh in response before she ended the phone call, tossing his phone back onto the table and pressing play. “PACK YOUR DOLLS AND A SWEATER. WE’LL MOVE TO INDIA FOREVER.”

He shuffled around his one bedroom apartment with purpose, excited to not only have Alondra back in his arms this weekend, but also because of the park date he and Mariposa—a nickname he so lovingly bestowed upon his new love after learning that she had not one, but five different butterfly tattoos (though he had yet to learn their locations)—set for the next afternoon.

Walking into his bedroom, he scratched his head as he took in the boxes of un-assembled furniture—a crib, a changing table, and a dresser. He let out a huff and rubbed the hair on his chin, feeling that familiar itch to soothe his stress with illegal substances. He shook his head at the mere thought of relapsing and turned around, heading into the kitchen to grab his phone, ignoring the urge to call Mariposa up—he didn’t want their first date to be assembling furniture—and instead choosing Santi’s contact.

“Look who it is!” Santi beamed through the video call, Frankie chuckling at his enthusiasm. “You covid-free finally?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up Alondra in a half hour, but I still need to put together the furniture I got for her. You get tested recently?”

“Yeah, me and la novia went yesterday because we’ve got a flight to Texas coming up this week.”

“Could I possibly steal you away from her and get some help tonight?” Frankie asked with his best smile, Santi groaning dramatically. “C’mon, I have beer.”

“Oh, sure then, yeah. I’m down. Come pick me up after you secure the bebé.”

“Alright be there in about an hour.”

•••

“Frankie,” Viviana greeted him with a glare, arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway. “You’re late.”

Frankie looked down at his watch, brows furrowed.

“I’m three minutes late.” He argued through his mask, only receiving an eye roll before she was walking him inside the home he used to share with her.

It hadn’t always been this way with Viviana. When they first met five years ago, she was a carefree grad-student studying to be a veterinarian. Kindness and affection radiated from her, catching his eye immediately at some house party Benny dragged him to. What began as a coked-up fuck in a strangers bathroom soon evolved to a full on relationship full of a lot of ups and downs—mostly downs—until the surprise conception of their baby girl. Now, all he could see when he looked at her were the many red flags he chose to ignore right up until a few months ago when she made the choice for him—and thank god she did.

“Oh hey, man. Nice to finally meet you.” Frankie’s jaw clenched as he spotted his replacement sitting at the kitchen table he helped pick out feeding his daughter with a casual smile. Frankie turned to Viviana, whispering to her with his back turned to her boyfriend.

“I asked you to not bring him around—“

“You’re not around, Frankie. I needed help.” She spat, Frankie scoffing at her argument.

“I was sick. With fucking Covid. Remember? The shit going around killing people that we know like nothing about?” She breezed past him, ignoring his valid defense and lifting Alondra from her high chair. Frankie accepted his daughter into his arms gladly, kissing her cheek through the cotton of his mask a few times before looking down at her, her grin growing wide until she let out a laugh. He kissed her forehead again, having missed the sound of his happy baby girl more than he’d ever missed anything.

“Remember, she’s allergic to bananas so look at all the labels before—“

“I know, V.” He shrugged on her diaper bag, allowing his ex to say goodbye to their daughter before the two were on their way.

“Hola cabrón!” Santi greeted Frankie with a smile, slipping into the passenger seat and patting his shoulder before turning around to look at Alondra in the backseat, reaching to pinch her foot. “Hola, muñecita.”

“We gotta stop at the store so I can grab some baby shit.” Frankie was still tense after his not-so nice reunion with the mother of his child, Santi quickly taking note of his attitude.

“Didn’t go well?” He asked carefully, Frankie looking over at him with an unamused look.

“She had her guy over. Fucking feeding Alondra like he’s her dad.” He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove to the nearest Target. “And V was finding any fucking reason to make me feel like shit. I never realized it back when we were together, but she’s so fucking…annoying.”

“Yeah, we all caught onto that pretty early on.”

“And yet no one thought to tell me?” Santi couldn’t help but chuckle at the question. They all very much had told Frankie about their distaste for Viviana, he just never listened.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled again, shaking his head as he looked back at Alondra squawking in the backseat. “Que pasa, niña? What’re you squawking about?”

Frankie’s phone lit up as it rested on the dash mount, Santi chuckling and teasing him as he read the contact name, “Mariposa 🦋”.

“Who’s that, huh? Frankie’s got a girlfriend?” He teased, nudging Frankie’s side with a shit eating grin, Frankie rolling his eyes and chuckling against his will.

“It’s the delivery girl,” he told him your name and Santi ooo-ed at the blush on his friends face. “Can you stop smiling like that and be useful? Open it for me, man.”

“Sure thing, pal.” Santi kept his grin on as he lifted the phone off the mount and opened it up, his eyes going wide at the sight of a racy photo on the screen. “Jesus, Fish!”

“What?” Frankie looked over at caught a glimpse of the picture, quickly snatching it from Santi’s hands and locking it. “What the fuck man?”

“What the fuck to you! You told me to open it!” He laughed through his defense, Frankie’s cheeks now flushed red.

“I didn’t know that…I—fuck off.” Santi looked back at Alondra, getting the baby girl to join him in his laughter.

“Papá tiene una novia, mija.” Alondra giggled without having a clue what he was saying. “Yeah, that’s funny, huh?”

“I shoulda called Benny.”

•••

You weren’t exactly sure what came over you.

Frankie had been a complete gentleman the entire week that the two of you had been talking, never once pulling anything or pushing you into the typical sexting shit that men usually tried this early on. He was consistent and honest, interesting and funny—checking every single box you had, which wasn’t an easy feat.

Somehow, your appreciation for him turned into horniness which then turned into a mini-photo shoot in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, eager to reward him for his very gentlemanly behavior and possibly get a glimpse of what he was like beyond it.

Your modesty was covered only by a skimpy thong and your arm over your breasts, your makeup and hair done up more than it would usually be on a Friday afternoon. You took a few different photos from different angles, but landed on an angle that showed off your curves best, pressing the blue arrow without second thought so that you wouldn’t lose your nerve.

“What the fuck did you just do, idiot?” You scolded yourself as you laid face first on your mattress. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off or come across as a creep who only wanted to fuck.

Thirty minutes had passed, your hands busy baking copious amounts of banana bread to keep the anxiety at bay. You felt like shit, ruining the first genuine connection you’d felt in a long time because you were horny? Idiot.

Right as you stuffed the next few loaf tins in the oven, your phone buzzed on the counter, your heart sinking to your feet at the sound. You almost didn’t want to look at it, your hope far too high to be let down by someone else’s name on the screen, but you couldn’t keep your curiosity at bay. Reaching for the phone, you gasped at the sight of “Rocketman ✈️” gracing your screen, your nickname for him after the two of you watched the film together over Zoom a couple days ago.

F: Mariposa, you’re so fucking beautiful. You trying to give me a heart attack in Target?

You giggled, looking around you at the mess of your panic baking as you thought up a witty response.

M: No heart attacks until you see me in person.

F: Deal.

F: What kind of wine do you like, bebita? I’m getting stuff for our picnic tomorrow.

You melted onto the counter, groaning at his sweet thoughtfulness.

M: Are you real?

F: Unfortunately yeah

M: I like you a lot, Rocketman. And anything pink, please!

F: I like you, Mariposa. A shit ton. My friend is here laughing at me as I type this because of my stupid fucking grin.

F: And you got it, anything else you want? Fruit, sweets, cheese? You name it, bebita.

M: I’m blushing like a fucking idiot, Frankie. You’re too cute. And no, your company and a glass of wine is perfect.

F: Sounds good, sweetheart.

A half hour passed before your phone buzzed again, Frankie’s contact on your screen again. You bit your lip as you opened the message, chuckling when you read it.

F: Hey this is Santi, Frankie’s real novia. Here’s your man.

M: Tell the guy on the right he’s hot

F: He’s blushing

F: Now he’s trying to take the phone awafbdhsu

F: Santi is an idiot, sorry you had the misfortune of talking to him, Mariposa.

M: Sounds like I’m gonna have to share you 🤨

F: He wishes.

F: I’m driving right now, but I’ll call you later on, pretty girl. Miss your voice 💞

M: Miss your voice, too. Be safe, pretty boy. 😘

•••

“Did you hear they’re talking about forcing everyone into fucking quarantine? Like shutting shit down?” Santi asked as he and Frankie sat together on his sofa, Alondra bouncing in her playseat while the boys drank beer and watched Frankie’s current comfort show, Nathan For You. “Can you imagine? Not being allowed to see anybody, having to stay in your fucking house all day long?”

“Sounds like what I’m already doing,” Frankie shrugged.

“No, puto. You wouldn’t get to hang out with me or the guys, wouldn’t get to see your girl, and I’m sure it’s not gonna make your split custody situation any easier.” Frankie turned to him with a concerned look. “Hey, but it’s all just talk for now. I’m sure it’s not gonna get that bad.”

“Let’s hope,” Frankie turned back to the screen, lifting his beer to his lips before pulling his phone out of his pocket. The realization that there might come a day soon that he wouldn’t have physical access to Mariposa made him all the more excited for their date tomorrow. “Hey, I’m gonna go down for a smoke. Can you watch Alondra?”

“Sure thing, Fish.”

Frankie made his way downstairs to the parking lot of his apartment complex, taking a cigarette out and lighting it as he waited for her to pick up his FaceTime.

“Hi, Rocketman.” Mariposa beamed at him through the screen with a playful grin.

“Hey, Mariposa,” he smiled back, leaning against the bumper of his jeep. “Are you busy?”

“No, just finishing up a paper. What are you up to? Is Alondra settled in?”

“Yeah, she’s inside with Santi. We just put together her crib, her changing table thing, and now we just have to finish up with the dresser.” He took an inhale of his cigarette and breathed it out, eyes fixed on her undone state, blown away that she somehow looked even better like this—hair in a bun, reading glasses on, an oversized sweatshirt with a stain on it. “Santi, uh, he just killed my mood a bit. He’s pretty good at that, you’ll come to realize when you get to know him.”

“What did he say?” She asked with a furrow in her brows, tone laced with concern.

“He just reminded me about the fact that we might all go on lockdown soon. Gonna make it a bitch to see Alondra…and to see you.” Mariposa gave him an empathetic smile, tilting her head at him. “If that happens, you know, mandatory quarantine or whatever…I guess I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. You know? Even if we can’t see each other in person for a while, I, uh…I really like you, so—I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. I’m in it.”

“I’m in it too, Frankie,” she beamed again. “Seriously, I…haven’t ever connected like this with someone before. So…a little lockdown isn’t gonna change that.”

“Good,” he chuckled shyly and nodded, eyes bouncing across her features adoringly.

“So…about that picture I sent earlier,” she bit her lip and looked away from the camera as she chuckled. “It wasn’t too much, right? I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m after or anything. I just…was in a mood, I guess and you’ve been such a gentleman, I just got a little…worked up over the thought of you.”

“Worked up, huh?” Frankie smirked and looked around at the empty parking lot before speaking again. “No, bebita, it wasn’t too much. Believe me when I say I’ve been thinking about it since you sent it.”

“I could…send another? If you’d like?” She gave him a hopeful smile before biting her lip again, Frankie having to calm his lower half at the sound of her voice turning just a bit more sultry than usual. As much as he wanted to see more of her, he also wanted to take it slow, not rush into anything and ruin the good thing that they were building.

“Mariposa, I’d love to see more of you, but what do you think about us taking it slow for now?” She looked shocked by his response, his heart rate speeding up as she went speechless. “Trust me, I want to see you. You’re so beautiful, baby, but…I’ve jumped into a lot of shit in the past really quickly and I don’t want this to be rushed like that, you know?”

“No, I get it,” she nodded, her eyes meeting his again. “I’m just not used to men treating me as good as you do, Frankie. Gonna take some getting used to.”

“I just care about us creating something lasting, Mariposa. I like you too much to risk ruining it for sex,” she smiled at him, all trace of her earlier disappointment gone. “So…on another note, tomorrow we’re gonna have a third wheel, I hope that’s okay.”

“Well, it depends on if it’s Santi or Alondra. Santi—not okay. Alondra—very okay.” He chuckled and asked out his cigarette, smiling at the thought of Mariposa and Alondra together. If Viviana was going to have her partner around their kid, he no longer felt guilty over the thought of his new love meeting his daughter.

“Bebe, I can promise you, I wouldn’t subject you to Santi this early on.”

“How’d you two meet?”

Frankie sat outside for another half-hour talking to Mariposa about his past in the military, how he met Santi and the rest of the boys, how he ended up here in Florida. It wasn’t until Santi came walking over with Alondra in his arms that he realized how long he’d been gone, suddenly feeling incredibly selfish for leaving his baby girl with his friend for so long.

“She made a poo-poo,” Santi whispered, handing over the stinky baby to his friend.

“Is that Santi?” Mariposa asked and Frankie sighed.

“Yeah,” Santi looked full of mischief as he plucked the phone out of Frankie’s hands and ran through the parking lot, knowing that his friend wouldn’t try to chase him with his daughter in his arms. “Well, hello there,” Santi greeted with his winning smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Did you just kidnap me?” She asked with an amused smirk, eating popcorn.

“Yeah, he’s keepin’ pretty mum about you besides the blushing and grinning. So I guess I gotta figure out if you’re a killer or something myself.” Santi watched as Frankie walked at a careful pace towards him. “You collect dead animals or anything like that?”

“No, no dead animals, unfortunately. Just one live one.” Santi watched as the camera was flipped around to show off her cat that Frankie had already come to love, Miles.

“Frankie’s a dog guy, babe. It ain’t gonna work.” Santi shrugged, unimpressed.

“Oh yeah? Frankie says otherwise.”

“Well, yeah, he’s trying to butter you up. Trust me, sweetie, daddy knows him better than you do.” She laughed at that, Santi taking it as a green flag that she was so at ease with his teasing.

“Are you daddy?” Frankie reached him in time to hear her question, giving Santi a confused smile and a head tilt.

“She keeps calling me daddy, I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Yeah, right.” Frankie heard her scoff as he took his phone back, shaking his head into the camera, watching proudly as her eyes lit up at the sight of him. “I’m so glad you’re back. I think Santi’s trying to scare off his competition.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with me.” Frankie pushed Santi away from him playfully as they reached the stairs up to his apartment. “Mariposa, I gotta finish up this dresser so that I can send Santi back home and out of my face.”

“Okay, tell daddy and Alondra I said goodnight.”

“He’s not daddy. Don’t—that’s gonna go straight to his fucking head. Already too big,” Frankie chuckled and set Alondra down on her playmat. “Goodnight, mi Mariposa. I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?”

“Can’t wait, Rocketman.” With that, Frankie reluctantly hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket, feeling a little better about his lockdown panic knowing that she was on the same page as him. It didn’t feel like they had a ticking countdown on their budding relationship anymore, both in it regardless of how often they got to see each other in person.

“I like her,” Santi spoke up as they started back on the dresser.

“Shut up.” Frankie was used to Santi’s sarcasm, not once hearing him genuinely compliment one of his past girlfriends aside from their looks.

“No, seriously. I like her. She’s funny, she seems like she’d be cool to hang out with. Nothing like the girls you usually go for.” Frankie smiled to himself, his friends approval meaning more to him than he’d ever care to admit.

“She just like…gets me? And likes talking to me? It’s wild.” Frankie focused on twisting the screw into place as he spoke to prevent a boyish grin from creeping onto his lips. “Just feels like her and I could sit and talk forever, you know? Haven’t had that kind of connection before. Like…Viviana? That was just sexual and coke-fueled, but I swore it was love. This isn’t like that, and it’s really nice.”

“Does she know about all that? The coke and shit?” Santi asked, dropping his typical playfulness to have a real conversation.

“Yeah, told her about it the first night we talked.” He set down the allen-wrench and looked at his friend with a smirk. “She was so understanding. Her parents were both addicts so, she gets it, ya know? And, anyways, it just makes me want to not slip back into all that even more. I don’t want her to have to deal with that shit from me.”

“That’s good, man. I’m glad you’re with someone who brings out good shit in you rather than…well, whatever Viviana brought out.” The boys stood up to lift the dresser upright, moving it from the living room and back into the bedroom. “Also doesn’t hurt that she’s hot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frankie chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Mariposa was hot. And nice to talk to. And fucking funny. She was the total package and there was no way he was letting his ghosts or a little bug going around ruin that. He wasn’t about to let something this good slip from his fingers. He’d cure Covid himself if he had to.

•••

frankie taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to future frankie content!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales angst #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #littoc

81 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Note

Hello I really love your writing. I’m glad that you decided to open requests for a bit. I have a personal headcanon that the boys are a lot nicer to MC then they are to everyone else. Could you do a headcanon of the boys being out with MC and they are talking with MC happily. Then a lesser demon sees them with MC and says that the seven brothers have gone weak and they aren’t scared of them anymore. Thank you again!!! 😖 (Also the way you write Levi is great)

Aww thank you!! Levi's kind of my favorite character (if that hasn't become painfully obvious) so I try to write him well, you know? This one was a little hard for me to write because I just have a hard time imagining Asmo and Beel as something intimidating to the masses, but I tried my best! I hope you like it!

Lesser Demons Think the Brothers have "Gone Soft…"

Lucifer

If anybody had something to lose by acting sweet on a lowly human, it was Lucifer. His entire image was built on the back of power and intimidation, so really who didn't see this coming?

He knew there were whispers… Mostly in the RAD hallways. Students would see him with the MC and gossip amongst themselves…

"Did you see them together again in the courtyard?"

"How did some random human even score a pact with him??"

"And I used to seriously look up to him, too…"

He'd always silence their chitchat with a well placed glare, but this was a symptom of something more… troubling. A decay of his social image if you will.

Perhaps it speaks to how well and truly enamored he was with the MC that this proud creature didn't just dump them the second he started looking bad, but still… a part of him really couldn't stand for this...

So maybe it was a blessing in disguise when he finally got an excuse to establish his superiority yet again!

He and the MC were walking the halls of RAD after school hours and they had just made an amusing joke at the expense of of his brothers. Unfortunately, Lucifer collided into a lesser demon student while he was laughing…

On most occasions, he would have expected someone of such station to pay him deference then offer an apology - they had just ran into Lucifer after all - but the student just scoffed at him!

Lesser Demon: "Oi! Watch where you're going, Lucifer! Or were you too busy sucking up to that human to notice?"

This… was maybe not the best response to have (if the "Oh shit" look on the MC's face was any indication) but for as annoyed as Lucifer was, he was also somewhat delighted.

Finally, he had the perfect messenger for just how cruel he could still be!

Lucifer: "MC, feel free to go home without me for now and tell my brothers to save my dinner for later…" *starts pulling out his favorite rope with a cold, but pleased, smile on his face* "I have a feeling I'll be home late tonight..."

The MC left him and his unfortunate victim to their fate and Lucifer later came home in the night with his uniform in a bad need of cleaning...

A new body decorated the RAD entrance hall the next morning - swinging from the ceiling and making an awful mess on the floor - but still alive enough give a very important message to the rest of the students:

"Lucifer hasn't changed a bit…"

Mammon

So, not even lesser demons see Mammon as some kind of high-ranking badass…

Just to be clear, he is, but it’s hard for him to come off that way when he's begging for his next Grimm... Then enter MC into the picture and he somehow lost even MORE cred.

"There goes poor Mammon… Did you hear he got tricked into a pact?"

"Just look at him nipping at the human's heels! How pathetic is that??"

"Well that's Mammon for you… What a shit excuse for a demon."

Like Lucifer, Mammon wasn’t immune to the whispers, but unlike his brother he was able to push them mostly out of his mind. People look down on him? Yeah, what else is new?

To be honest, he didn’t really feel the need to prove anything to a bunch of lesser demon losers… But insulting his MC takes things a step too far.

He and the MC were out at the Devil's Coast, "enjoying" some of the haunted house attractions and generally having a good time…ish.

Any time they managed to make it out of one, the MC would have to peel Mammon off their back and hold him to assure him they were back to safety (a process he seemed to like enough to repeat the horror that precedes it).

It was during one of these calm down sessions that the two were accosted by a couple of snickering lesser demons, clearly looking for a fight…

Lesser Demon 1: "Hey look! There's the 'Great' Mammon and his little master!"

Lesser Demon 2: "Guess the master fits the demon… Of course someone like Mammon couldn't even score a pact with Solomon and gets stuck with the weakling!"

Lesser Demon 1: "Well how's the babysitting going, Mams? I bet you can't wait for them to kill over, can ya?"

Lesser Demon 2: "Careful! With his luck, they'll probably get eaten by the end of next week! Haha!!"

Now… an important thing to know about Mammon is that you can fling all the mud and stones you'd like at him… but never at his MC. That's just asking for a bruising...

Mammon: *smiling like usual, but his eyes are practically burning with rage...* "Yo, MC… I'm gettin' a little hungry. Can ya go find us a snack over there? I'll meet ya in a bit…"

MC: "Mammon, are you-?"

Mammon: "Don’t worry 'bout me, babe." *takes his glasses off and flashes a fanged grin* "This is'a piece of cake."

And indeed, it wasn't difficult at all. No matter how fast those demons ran, they could never out speed Mammon and he was looking to give more than a warning…

The MC didn't know what he did while they were waiting in line, but they heard the sounds of pleading go silent before Mammon turned back up with a nice bruise on his cheek. Oh, how they fretted and dotted on him…

Meanwhile, the haunted houses just earned themselves a couple new mannequins!… when rigor sets in anyway.

Leviathan

Levi has a… mixed reputation in the Devildom to start with. People who only know him for his titles usually expect him to be some kind of sea-hardened badass. Those who meet him are… well let's say less than impressed.

This isn't anything new to Levi. It does take a blow to his confidence sometimes but even still most people aren't dumb enough to say something to his face… most people.

Unfortunately, "most people" have been getting bolder after seeing him with MC - because Demon Lord forbid Leviathan actually look happy for a change…

He and the MC were out and about for once. There was a raffle for exclusive merch at Anidaemon and he brought them along to boost his chances. They were grinning and chatting about anime but well…

The human couldn’t hear this, but he could - sensitive demon ears and all that. There were a couple guys who were tailing him… heckling him just loud enough that he was CERTAIN they knew he could hear them...

Lesser Demon 1: "Is that seriously Leviathan hanging out with a human? Isn’t he an Admiral??"

Lesser Demon 2: "Ha! The whole family's turned into simps, are you that surprised?"

Lesser Demon 1: "Wonder what the human's giving them that's got them all brainwashed…"

Lesser Demon 2: "Well... I've got an idea." 😏

If there were ever a reason for bile to fill his throat, it was now. He might be a shut-in, but those guys were the real creeps…

To be honest, Levi isn't one for public confrontation. Even with how gross and disrespectful those demons were being, he would have let it slide if they had just left it at that… but no…

He and the MC were browsing the ani-music racks in the store when those idiots popped up again. They hovered a while until they MC suddenly left his side to go find a store clerk.

When he saw the other demons move their direction, he naturally put himself between them and the would-be harassers. It was a little telling that despite his ticked off expression, the demons just laughed in his face!

Lesser Demon 2: "Hey look, the puppy's come out to protect its owner! How cute!"

Lesser Demon 1: "I can't believe you're that predictable, Levi… Do you really think we'd be scared of you?"

Well. That settled it.

When the MC came back, they found that Levi had moved from the music racks to the merch tables near the bathrooms. They didn't think anything of it… but...

One body was paralyzed by his venom and stuffed head first in a toilet while the other getting strangled by his tail just underneath the tablecloth… Meanwhile, Levi was cheerfully rambling about the raffle like nothing was happening at all.

Maybe they should have been a little more scared of the shut-in...

Satan

This may actually be a case where the rumors have a point… The MC has made Satan "soft."

Well, if "soft" means actually in control of himself, anyway.

Satan would probably call their effect on him both a blessing and a curse. Though he loved finally having a handle on his inner rage, it flew in the face of a lot of his public image… and people were starting to notice….

"Do you think there's something off about Satan…?"

"I saw the human step on his toes earlier and he didn't even flinch…! The old Satan would have torn them apart!!"

"He's gotten way too nice all of sudden… Wrath shouldn't be nice."

Was it a little frustrating? Certainly. Especially for someone as image conscious as him. But for as calm as he was now, Satan wasn’t any less cruel and he'd be more than happy to remind others of that fact….

His chance came when he and the MC were together having just left the local art gallery. The two were exchanging a healthy dialogue about a curious sculpture they saw on display when a latte suddenly went soaring through the air and ended up all over Satan's sweater… The culprit was plain to see, being the only other demon on the road that night.

Whether the act was intentional or not, the correct course of action would have been to apologize immediately and beg for mercy forgiveness… but all the demon did was laugh in his face…

Maybe he thought that since Satan had mellowed out and his human was right beside him that he'd be lenient… Oh no. Not gonna happen.

Satan's fist slammed into the guy's mouth with the force of a jetliner and knocked him over two benches before his back bent over a lamppost… To say it was a KO move would be an understatement.

He probably could have done a whole lot worse to the guy while he was down, but you know… the MC being there and "self-control" and what not…

The demon survived (barely) and only had to spend a few months in the hospital, if anything he got off light.

Not a soul would gloss over Satan's temper again and really he preferred it that way.

Asmodeus

Well, to be fair not a lot of people thought that Asmo was tough to start with… but that's also his intention.

"Scary" is the opposite of "cute" and he prefers to be "cute" at all times! 😊

Buuut that doesn’t mean this scorpion is without a stinger. He CAN be quite brutal when he wants to be, you just have to push him that far and trashing his looks is a good way to start.

Asmo was out with the MC getting his hair done for the week at his favorite salon. They weren't the only people there that day, obviously. There were other customers - one being a lesser demon classmate of theirs - though neither he nor the MC thought much of him at the time...

Well… It was supposed to be a prank. Probably something the guy intended to use for social media clout. While the staff was too busy to notice, he snuck by and replaced Asmo's preferred conditioner with pink hair dye…

Asmo. Was. Furious. And honestly, the dude could have gotten away with it if he hadn't been laughing and recording the whole thing!

When Asmo's ire naturally fell onto him, he hardly looked fazed!

Lesser Demon: "Ah, please! You won't do shit to me with the human still around! You don't want to look any uglier to them do ya?"

Asmo: *freezes, but still furiously eyeing every sharp instrument within arm’s reach* "MC? Darling?"

MC: "Got it..."

Perhaps the prankster should have kept his mouth shut, because suddenly the MC needed to take a looong bathroom break…

They didn't come back out until they heard the sounds of screeching and broken glass finally die down and then they stepped back into a warzone… Broken mirrors and items seemingly flung everywhere in a fit of rage! The guy (and his phone) now nowhere to be seen…

The salon comped Asmo for the botched hair job and touch up… and then billed Lucifer for the property damage (which he got an earful about later). On the bright side though, Asmo actually looks pretty great with pink hair! Silver-linings. 🙂

Beelzebub

… The concept of Beel "going soft" is almost an oxymoron. He IS soft, but his personality was never what made him intimidating to start with.

Behind all his kindness, Beel packs more firepower than at least 4 for his siblings combined and most people remember that fact. Hell, the guy looks like he could lift a semi and he probably would if he ever tried.

However, that doesn’t save him from being underestimated completely... Especially when an upstart or two thinks he's too nice to actually start a fight...

He and the MC were coming back from the grocery store with the usual armfuls of sacks when the MC accidentally walked into a lesser demon on the street. Since their arms were full, several items spilled out from the bags and onto the ground…

The MC was quick to apologize to the demon and try to get down to clean the mess, but the asshole just kept walking… and Beel really didn't like that.

Beel: "Hey! Aren't you going to say, 'Sorry?'"

The lesser demon hardly looked over his shoulder to respond.

Lesser Demon: "Why should I? That's your human. Take care of them yourself."

Well it didn't take long for some of Beel's bags to hit the floor so he could lift the demon up by the back of the neck properly. When he turned the guy to face him, he made sure to bring his face reeaal close so he could hear him growl...

Beel: "Apologize. Or I'll eat you."

And like that, the asshole's mood went from "Do it yourself," to "Yessir Mr. Beelzebub, sir!" right quick!

The MC didn't have to carry a single bag another step and Beel got to keep his free hand so he could link it with theirs!... all while Beel kept mushing their new pack-mule forward like a sled dog back to the House. Thanks, Beel! 😊

Belphegor

Kind of similar to Asmo, Belphie prefers to come off as unassuming on most days. But don't let his, "I'm a harmless sleepy boy" shtick fool you. He will cut a bitch if he's so motivated...

Thankfully for the world, he's generally not motivated. But that can be changed under the right circumstances...

Belphie and the MC were on yet another date to the botanical gardens. It's a peaceful place, though the MC can never go alone because of the frankly concerning amount of flesh-eating plants… Pretty, but also deadly, you know?

The two of them were walking to another rest spot when Belphie heard whispering from a demon behind them, seemingly on his phone…

Lesser Demon: “Yeah, I can see them right now…”

Lesser Demon: “I know right? It's so lame that these guys are in charge of us… They can't even say no to a dumb human!”

Lesser Demon: “What do you mean keep my voice down? Dude, it's fine! This is Belphegor we're talking about, the hell is he going to do if he hears me?”

… Huh.

The answer to the man's question was a simple one. Flash into his demon form for just a moment and whip out his tail... It only took a quick swipe to make him trip and fall right into the foliage. The man-eating… carnivorous… hungry… foliage….

Belphie was back to normal by the time the jerk let out his first scream and the MC almost stopped to see what had happened.

MC: "What the-oh my God!! Should we help-??”

Belphie: *puts his hands on their shoulders to keep them moving, not even glancing back* “Someone else will take care of it. Let's see the roses.”

Even when the desperate cries for help became distant, it took all Belphie had to stifle a smile…

Sometimes, you've got to love irony. 🤷‍♀️😏

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

3K notes · View notes

ilalos · 3 years ago

Text

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

699 notes · View notes

mortedeveles · 3 years ago

Text

a whisker away― 1 | HQ Movie Collab!

SUMMARY: After a strange series of events, turning into a cat becomes part of your daily routine, in which you visit your crush- Kenma, every day after school. But he doesn’t know you’re the cat that visits him. And to make things worse, you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep this up before your world spirals out of your control.

PAIRING: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

GENRE & THEME: A Whisker Away! AU (movie), fluff to angst to fluff, pining. [(two part) ONE-SHOT] [Haikyu Movie Collab!]

TAG’S & TW: Cursing, a bit of unhealthy family dynamics. Mentions of social anxiety, rejection. Some angst, mentions of insecurities and small graphic violence. Reader might come off a bit as yandere-ish/obsessive but she’s just head over heels over Kenma, who’s barely discovering his feelings as well.

WORD COUNT: 5.7K!

A/N: Hey y’all! I’m here with my first Kenma fic :) Which is part of @/hitokas-angel Haikyuu Movie Collab! I’ll link the masterlist in my taglist reblog. This fic is based on the movie A Whisker Away but doesn’t follow the entire plot, and I haven’t written in a while and this is my first time writing for Kenma, so I hope it’s okay! <3 Please REBLOG, like and COMMENT if you enjoy!

Second (and final) part will be out this upcoming week! If you want to be added to the taglist, check my pinned post.

People are a fickle thing, Kenma thinks. And he snorts at the thought, knowing he isn't any better than any of the passing strangers he's walking by as he heads to Nekoma High. But still, there's something about people, about crowds and socializing that makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

People are hard to deal with. If he can barely deal with himself, why bother with others? It's not that he's a sociopath, he does have friends and family he cares about. And he cares about what others think of him. But still, socializing is so intimidatingly hard that he'd rather just avoid it altogether if possible.

Even with his headphones, he can hear the loud blaring of cars, the chattering of people that brush against his arms, and he tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the nervous fluttering that's sprouted in his stomach from all the alternating and overwhelming noises. Whatever, it's just a car honking. It's just a little kid screaming. So he braces his arms as he buries his hands in the pockets of his sweater, feeling a bit more relieved as he spots Nekoma High School in the near distance. He usually walks to school with Kuroo, but his friend decided to be productive today and wake up at four in the morning. The mere thought of waking up so early made Kenma yawn and feel drowsy. His eyes feel a bit heavy, though he knows it's his fault for staying up playing video games, again.

But Kenma doesn't mind the slight drowsiness that courses through his body. In a sense, it feels comforting. Like if the world's been sedated to a more managing level. A world that he can handle without his anxiety bursting through the roof.

A soft mew snaps him out of his thoughts, and Kenma spots a white kitten rubbing across his legs, and he smiles. It has a unique pattern across its fur, with brown and black spots. He kneels down and gently scratches the cat under its chin, and the furry animal purrs and preens with his touch.

As a small sigh escapes his lips, the boy raises his head and stares at the high school building ahead of him. Several classmates are walking past him and he watches the girls with swishing skirts and boys with their boisterous laugh and messily done ties.

Despite a large number of students pouring into the building, the morning at Nekoma High is quiet and serene. Giving the black kitten one last scratch, Kenma stands up and heads inside the building, working his way through crowds. His gym bag is heavy in his hand and his backpack slightly thumps against his back, but he pays it no mind as he exits the building and finds his way into the gymnasium. Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku are already in the gymnasium, the three third years chattering amongst themselves. The gym's doors creaked from being pushed open, and Kuroo's gaze snapped towards Kenma, a wry smile crawling onto his lips.

"Look who got here early. I'm impressed," the black-haired boy crossed his arms, and Kenma rolled his eyes. "You're the first second-year to get here today."

Kenma merely lets out a small grunt of acknowledgment, before trudging towards the locker rooms. He stashes his bag in his locker and then heads out back to the gym, already decked out in his volleyball uniform, but furrows his eyebrows at the sight ahead of him.

Not again. He swallows down an annoyed groan as he spots the all too familiar girl standing with Kuroo, a bright smile painted on her lips as she laughs and talks along with the boy. Why are you here?

"Kenma!" Kuroo calls out for him with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Your super fan is here with a gift." Great. Now he has to talk to you and thank you for whatever you brought. Why couldn't you just take a hint and leave him alone? He thought he made it clear last week when he ignored you as you called out his name and Kenma proceeded to ignore your every word as he raced home.

"Hi, Kenma!" And there you go again, making his stomach twist with your wide smile. Why did you make him feel this way? He didn't like this feeling. "I had some free time today, so I decided to make you a bento box. I hope you like it," you explain before handing over the box, and Kenma ignores the way his skin heats up as your fingers brush against his.

"Thank you," he murmurs but refuses to meet your gaze, hoping you'll go away without another second to spare.

"Aww, aren't you two adorable!" Kuroo coos at his left, and Kenma feels his pride shrivel and glares at the black-haired boy, but he pays him no mind.

Kenma drops his gaze to your shiny school shoes, hearing you stammer and step back nervously, and Kuroo's boisterous laugh echoes in the gym. Kenma lifts his gaze as he watches his best friend approach you and watches as your eyes widen as Kuroo grips your chin.

"If Kenma doesn't appreciate your gifts, I sure will. If you ever get tired of him, give me a call, eh?" Yaku and Kai laugh loudly as you squeak and nod, before rushing out of the gym.

"Poor girl, did you see the look on her face? You've tormented her too much, Kuroo," Yaku says with a disapproving tone to his words, but there's a wide grin on his face that says otherwise.

"Relax, it's all just a bit of fun. You don't mind, do you Kenma?" And the boy turns to look at the blonde, dropping his mischievous expression as he faces Kenma with genuine concern.

"No, of course not." Kuroo relaxes at the boy's response and beams. Kenma turns around towards the benches, ignoring the loud pounding of his heart and the ugly feeling that begins to boil in his stomach.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Despite the searing heat that spread across your face after fleeing from the gym, you'd like to think your mission went pretty well. One, you made it to the gym without chickening out and two, you talked to Kenma without looking like an idiot! And three, you handed over the bento box and it was successfully received.

So you spend the rest of your day at school with a bright smile, the small interaction with Kenma being enough to lift your mood. Soon enough, the school bell chimes softly, and you walk to lunch with your friends, Azumi and Emiko.

While Emiko goes off to the vending machine, her brown hair bouncing with her each step, Azumi and you walk towards a lunch table. But you freeze in your steps at the sight ahead of you. With only a tree and a few bushes separating you two, Kenma and Kuroo walk languidly ahead of you and you quickly duck behind the bushes, pulling Azumi down with you. Before she can protest, you slap your hand over her mouth, signaling her to be quiet.

"Shh!" You peek your head over the bushes, watching with rapt attention. Kenma walks side by side with Kuroo, the taller one gossiping as they approach a lunch table. They sit down at one of the tables blanketed under the shade of the trees, and your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull out your bento box. He kept it! A small part of you was fearing he would drop kick it at a trash can, but you feel much more relieved now that you see him with your gift. The branches begin to scratch against your forearms and thighs, and your friend grumbles at your side about how the bushes are annoying, but you pay her no mind as you watch almost in slow motion as Kenma opens your bento box and begins to eat. He digs into the food with his chopsticks and you strain your ears to listen as Kuroo speaks.

"Oh? You're eating the bento box Y/N prepared for you?"

Kenma's brows furrow as he rolls his eyes, before continuing to dig into the food, cheeks puffed out with food. He ignores Kuroo's teasing words, and you don't think the smile on your lips can grow any wider. Wow....have you ever felt this happy before? You can't describe the happiness, the joy, and the satisfaction that blooms from your chest and floods your mind at the sight of your crush eating your food.

"Okay," you let out a deep breath as you dramatically fall back on the grass, closing your eyes in bliss. "I can peacefully die now..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Azumi chides you but falls back onto the grass at your side, and you can't stop the giggle that leaves your lips.

"But it's true," you mumble as you drape your arm over your eyes, blocking off the blinding sunlight. "Kenma took my bento box. Kenma Kozume, the boy I've crushed on for years, took my food! And he's eating it!"

"Nothing else can make you happier, huh?" Your friend says with amusement, and you hum. You push your arm away from your face, and stare at the bright sky, raising your hand upward and partially block the sun's rays.

"There is something else," you murmur, and Kenma's face flashes across your mind. "But beggars can't be choosers. I'll take what I can."

"What do you want?" Azumi rolls to the side and propels herself with her arm, looking at you expectantly. "Tell me."

You glance at her briefly before looking away with a small smile. You gaze at the sky, and you notice a small, burning light that travels across the blue horizons. A shooting star? That can't be it. It's the middle of the day. But you furrow your brows, a small prayer whispered in your head as you respond to your friend.

"I wish Kenma's heart belongs to me as much as mine belongs to him."

Azumi snorts. She rolls her eyes and lays back down on the grass, and you stifle a giggle.

"Well, good luck with that." She murmurs, and you hum in response. You close your eyes and spread your arms on the grass as the wind gently blows across the open area.

"Thanks. I'm going to need it." You murmur mostly to yourself, but then you open your eyes and raise yourself from the grass, peeking through the branches and leaves. Kenma is still scarfing down the food you made and Kuroo drinks some canned juice. And you feel newfound determination flooding through your veins as you turn and beam at your friend, eyes set on your goal.

"I can do it. I know I can."

Azumi chuckles, watching you with an amused smile. She then rises from the grass, stretching her limbs before outstretching a hand towards you.

"Well if it's anyone that can do it, it's you." And you smile. With a small huff, you grab her hand and rise to your feet, feeling much more hopeful than before.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

On the way home, you walk with Azumi and Emiko, but soon enough part ways since you three live on different streets. Humming absentmindedly, you swing your bag in your hands as you walk towards your home with no rush in your steps, feeling as if you have all the time in your hands. Your mind drifts back to Kenma- as it always does, and you smile. You're determined to win him over, but truthfully, you're not sure how. A small sigh leaves your lips, and you begin to pick up your pace when you hear a loud crash from the alley on your left.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn around and look into the rather dark alley, feeling your heart pound loudly. Uh oh. This can't be good. But you're frozen in place, and all you can do is watch in slight horror as a large and tall figure stomps out of the alley, slowly leaving shadows as it steps into the light. And you find yourself looking at... a cat?

That is if you can call this...thing, a cat.

Towering over you, the overweight white cat stands on its two paws, black and brown spots littering its fur. Strangely enough, the animal sports a dark blue kimono with a mustard yellow cloak draped over the clothing and a red scarf wrapped around its thick neck. And the weirdest of it all? The cat is smoking a pipe. Rather than being afraid, you're stuck in place as confusion swarms your thoughts.

"Uh..." You stare up at the cat, whose eyes are closed. "Hello?"

"Greetings, human." And the cat exhales a puff of smoke right on your face. Coughing, you furrow your brows with annoyance. "I've heard your prayers, so I am here with an offer."

Oh. Wait, what? How could've he heard your mental prayers? Maybe it was the shooting star- assuming it was a shooting star. But whatever the reason is, you don't dwell on it too much as you swallow and take a step back.

"Which is...?" You wait for the cat to continue. Maybe you're hallucinating, which wouldn't be too crazy to consider. Maybe you've been hallucinating this entire day because God knows it's been too good to be true.

The cat harrumphs, before opening its cloak, revealing a set of colorful masks. Pretty, you murmur to yourself, and the cat chuckles.

"I heard your pleads, and I am here to help. But I'm no love god, so I cannot make that boy fall in love with you. However," he pauses and grins, sharp teeth glinting. "I am the Mask Seller. I give masks to cats who wish to be humans, and I give masks to humans who wish to be cats."

"..." You frown, not liking the strange glint in the cat's eyes. You don't trust him. "And how would that help me win Kenma over?"

The Mask Seller laughs loudly, his belly slightly bouncing. "I have been watching you and the boy for some time now. You, more than anyone, should know why being a cat will change things."

Racking your head for the answer, you go through your memories of Kenma. A cat? Why would being a cat change anything? But then it dawns on you, and a small noise of understanding leaves your lips.

"He loves cats," you rush the words, eyes wide and the Mask Seller nods. "If I were a cat, I could approach him easily, and learn more about him! And then, I could use that information to become closer to him as a human-,"

"You catch on fast," the cat croons, and you nod eagerly. But then you frown. Why is he offering to help you? What does he get out of this?

"What are the conditions? Price? Rules?" You cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently.

"No money involved," the cat's low voice has you relaxing, but you still can't let down your guard. This is too good to be true. "But there are some conditions and rules you have to follow. And a small fee."

"I'm listening," you nod in understanding. The cat tugs one of the masks hanging from his cloak, a white cat mask that only covers the upper half of your face, with red and pink markings. He places it firmly in your hands, and then clears his throat. "The mask has a time limit. You can only wear it for one hour and a half per day. After that time, you will turn back into a human. And once my services are no longer needed, I will come to collect the mask. And my fee, of course." The glint in his feline eyes has you swallowing nervously, brows furrowing.

"What's this 'fee' you're talking about? You said I don’t have to pay you money." But the Mask Seller only chuckles before flipping backward, and you watch with a slackened jaw as he spins into the air, before floating down to a pipe and waves at you before swiftly squeezing down the passage.

"You'll see! Enjoy your new life."

And then you're left alone, standing in front of the alley with a cat mask in your hands.

Frowning, you stare down at the mask, turning it around. There's no engraving, inscription, or any indication of where it was made or such. Oh well. With a sigh, you hoist your bag around your shoulder and continue walking home, the cat mask held tightly in your hands.

Once you reach your home's doorstep, you stop. Pinching your arm, you wince at the stinging pain that shoots up your dream. Well, that crosses out one thing. You're not dreaming.

Swinging the door open, you announce your arrival, take off your shoes and kiss your mother's cheek, before racing up the stairs towards your bedroom. You need to know whether the mask will work before getting your hopes up, or if you've been having major hallucinations the entire day. A part of you hopes for it to work. Dropping your school bag on the ground, you examine the mask once again, tracing your fingers over the marks. It's a bit similar to a kitsune mask. Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture before raising the mask and clasping it tight against your face.

And then it happens. A powerful breeze sweeps into your room, even though your windows are closed, and you feel the world spinning. Closing your eyes tightly, you slowly open them after a few seconds.

Woah. When was your bag this big? Things look a bit different, a bit sharper. And you're definitely way smaller than before. Glancing downwards, you spot your paws. White, soft, furry paws. The paws of a cat.

Oh my God. It worked! You want to squeal and scream with excitement, but all that leaves your mouth is a small, gentle mew.

Oh, right. You're a cat. You can't talk. So instead, you walk towards your balcony, thankful you didn't close it last night as you nudge it open with your head. Once it slides open, you take a step forward before examining your paws. You can retract your claws at your own will. That's pretty cool, you think, but it's time to test them out. Leaping forward, you sink your claws into the cement wall and climb upwards, surprised at how easy it is. Perhaps everything is easier as a cat.

Once you've reached the top of the half-wall of your balcony, you begin to leap on roofs, tread on pipes and sidewalks until you've reached Kenma's house. Ever since you went there for a project in middle school, you've never forgotten his address. Is it creepy? Maybe- okay, yeah, it is creepy, but it's not like you stalk him! You simply memorized his address by heart. Blame it on your love haze from seventh grade, the same love haze that continues to influence your current actions.

You walk around his house until you reach his bedroom window. You wonder what he'll think, seeing a white kitten peeking through his window. Dread boils in your stomach when you realize he might not even be home at all. What if he's still at volleyball practice? You might've come all the way here for nothing.

But much to your surprise, after climbing up to his window, you find yourself staring at him. Kenma sits at his desk, black headphones on his head as he scribbles on a piece of paper. He must be doing homework, you ponder. Deciding to not interrupt him just yet, you look around in his bedroom, observing the decoration.

It's rather simple, with beige walls and a wooden floor. On the right corner of his room, a bed is pushed against the wall with pastel green blankets, and to the bed's left, there's a wooden desk with a PC, as well as several stacks of books, what seems to look like comics, and some gaming equipment.

After you've gotten bored of looking around in his bedroom, you scratch at his window, mewing softly. He doesn't look up, and you find your stomach twisting. What if he just thinks you're a strange stray and ignores you? Or worse, kicks you out of his home? Dear God, you did not think this through. Why did you take that mask again? Your mother did tell you to never accept gifts from strangers.

But before your endless cycle of overthinking can fully commence, your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull off his headphones and stare at you through the window for a few seconds. You watch his short, dirty blonde hair slightly move with his movements and his slightly parted lips. And you know he sees nothing more but a white kitten, but a part of you hopes that he sees through the magic, and sees you. It's me, Kenma.

Almost hesitantly, he walks over to his window and pulls it open. You sit down patiently and chirp softly once the window has been lifted. Kenma looks rather confused but doesn't say anything as he reaches a hand towards you and begins to gently scratch your chin. That feels good. You purr and lean into his touch, and you hear a soft chuckle leave his lips. Oh. My. God.

"How did you get up here?" He murmurs, mostly to himself and all you can do is meow in response.

You watch as he stares at his closed door, before turning back to you. And then, you feel his warm and soft hands go underneath your arms as he picks you up from the edge of the window and brings you to his bed. Kenma runs his fingers through your white fur, and the heat his body emits is almost comforting and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"You like cuddles, don't you?" He says, with a teasing smile that you've never seen before. If you were in human form right now, you're sure you would've passed out by now.

You let out a soft mew and reach for his cheek with one of your paws, but Kenma laughs as he grabs your paw and squeezes it gently in his hand.

This is it. You've never seen Kenma smile before, much less laugh, and there are no words to describe how it makes you feel. All you can think about is that you need to see it again.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Your life has taken a strange twist, to say the least. After enduring school, you race home and pull on the mask, heading straight to Kenma's house. You spend an hour there, cuddled in his arms or his lap as he plays video games, one of his hands resting on the top of your head. Kuroo has even come over a few times and seems to enjoy your presence as well. Kenma even feeds you sometimes, but most times you refuse, not liking how your stomach feels once you turn back human.

"Mmm." Kenma hums as you lay on his chest, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck, buried between your fur. And you purr, closing your eyes. "You smell like heaven. But I wonder," he leans back for a moment, assessing your frame. "What's your name? Do you have a family?"

"Give it a break, Kenma," Kuroo says at his side, reaching a hand to pet you. His movements are rather brutish and rough and you grumble as he pets your fur.

"I'm sure she has a family that feeds her. You can't feel her bones or anything, she's a healthy weight."

The boy sighs in response, before sitting up on his bed, moving you to his lap. "But I still get worried," he gently runs his fingers through your fur. "Where does she go after coming here?"

You meow in response. I'm fine, Kenma. You don't need to worry over me. He chuckles, raising you to his face, his nose gently bopping against yours. You stare into his golden eyes, wondering how someone's eyes could be as beautiful and hypnotizing as his, and you feel yourself fall a little bit more in love.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Kuroo says as he flops onto the bed, bouncing a volleyball in his hands.

"Yeah," Kenma murmurs, and you don't miss the way he averts his eyes and how his voice lowers. Does he not like his birthday? "It's this Friday."

"I'm gonna get you some apple pie. Let's go to the park after school on Friday, and then we can go to that arcade you like going to." You turn to look at Kuroo. If you were in your human form, you would've been smiling softly. Though Kuroo can be loud and boisterous at times, you can tell that he cares for Kenma.

"Apple pie is good," he murmurs as his fingers scratch your head. "I like it."

Your ears perk up at this as an idea pops into your head. Kuroo's going to give him apple pie, but probably store-bought. Which means you can bake him homemade apple pie and buy him a few more gifts. He'll love it! Seeing that his birthday is only in two days, you spring up from his chest and race towards the window. You don't have any time to waste.

"Huh- wait!" You stop, hearing the sudden surprise in Kenma's words. Mewing softly, you lick your paw and meow one more time before leaping out of the window. That should suffice as a goodbye, right? It's not like you can go up to him and say, "See you later!" You're in the body of a cat, after all.

Once you've dropped down to the soft grass, you begin to make your way home, making mental calculations of what you need to buy and prepare. And you feel giddiness shoot through your chest, butterflies awakening in your stomach. Who knows, maybe the gift will win him over? You can only hope so.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

By the time Kenma's birthday, October 16th, rolls by, you feel ready as ever. Speed walking to school, you're decked out in your school uniform, carrying the warm apple pie in one hand, and a gift bag in the other, while your bag is slung over your shoulders. You can't stop the giddy smile that crawls on your lips, which only grows wider at the sight of your two friends, Emiko and Azumi waiting for you at your designated spot.

"Hey there," Azumi chimes in while Emiko gasps at the sight in your arms.

"Y/N! What's all this?" Her words are chipper and her eyes are wide as you smile and begin to walk towards the school, the two girls at your sides.

"It's Kenma's birthday today, so I decided to bake him apple pie and I bought him some gifts. I hope he'll like them," you feel your insecurities seep in your last words, slightly frowning as you look down at your apple pie. You were a good baker, having done many other desserts in the past, but you can't help but fear that he won't like your baking.

"Wow. You really went all out," Azumi comments and you giggle. The three of you continue to gossip as you walk towards Nekoma High and it isn't long until the school building towers over you. You feel your stomach twist as you take in a deep breath.

Azumi pats your shoulder, while Emiko beams at you and gives you a thumbs up.

"You should give it to him before classes start. Good luck!" The brunette says with a wide smile and you smile back, before marching into the building. Here goes nothing.

It takes you a few minutes to find Kenma, knowing he'll probably be in the gymnasium, but you decide to check some other classrooms just in case. When you can't find him in any classroom, you grimace and speedwalk towards the gym, knowing you're running out of time. You only have eight minutes left before the school bell rings and then you'll have to head to class.

Once you've reached the gym, you slowly push the doors open, silently praying that only Kuroo and Kenma are in the gym.

But your prayers go unheard as a ball rolls right towards your feet, and the boy's volleyball team freezes when they spot you. A small moment of awkwardness passes through before you clear your throat and walk towards Kenma, giving the other boys a tight-lipped smile. Kenma sits on one of the benches, drinking from his water bottle as a sheen layer of sweat rolls down from his forehead. When you stand in front of him, he sets his water bottle to the side and stares at you, mouth slightly parted open.

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. He takes them silently, staring at them, and you decide to take this as your chance to escape. Quickly turning on your heel, you half-race out of the gym, feeling your face burn with embarrassment once again. And then you press your back against the gym's wall, catching your breath as your cheeks burn. But then you smile, a small laugh falling from your lips. You did it.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Kenma isn't a fan of birthdays. He'll endure his friend's birthdays and he'll even help with the surprise parties, but there's something about them that makes his stomach churn. Especially when it's his birthday. He's not the biggest fan of celebrating his birthday and he tries to avoid it when he can, but of course, Kuroo won't let it slip by this year.

He's barely arrived at the gym and Kenma frowns as he notices that no one's here yet. The gymnasium is dark and empty, and he wonders if he missed a memo or something. Did they not have practice today?

He sighs, dropping his gym bag on the ground. He'll wait a few minutes, maybe he's early today? But then he hears something shuffle, and he freezes. What was that....?

Then a grumble. Kenma raises a brow, both confused and wary. Is there a ghost or are his teammates pranking him? Neither outcomes sound pleasant.

"...Who's there?"

A sigh. And then, before Kenma can brace himself, the entire volleyball team jumps from the bleachers, shouting eagerly.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Jesus Christ! Kenma jumps in his spot, heart thundering as he processes the situation. Okay, so not a ghost. Just his teammates being annoying as usual. Kuroo and Lev are grinning like doofuses, holding a banner that says, 'Happy Birthday Kenma!' Kai holds an apple pie in his hands, a serene smile on his face, Yaku holds the other end of the banner, and the rest of the first and second years hold balloons and throw streamers into the air.

All of this, just for him?

"What's this?" Kenma murmurs, still wracking his brain as he tries to process his emotions. Lev's about to open his mouth, but Yaku reaches over and slaps his hand over the Russian's mouth, a forced smile on his lips.

Kuroo clears his throat, beaming. "Just a surprise celebration! We wanted to do something special. You don't turn seventeen every day."

And Kenma feels his chest warm, and there's a smile that's threatening to break onto his face, but he holds it back and gives them a small smile, not sure if he can handle so many emotions.

"...Thank you." And he is, he feels thankful and only feels even more thankful as his friends cheer and suddenly rush towards him, embracing him tightly in his arms. He can't help the laugh that leaves his lips and feels serene. Kenma's never been a fan of his birthday, but his friends make it a little bit better.

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The team quickly calms down and begins practice, a few laps, then practicing their spikes and receives. Kenma walks over to the benches and takes a seat as he drinks from his water bottle when the gym doors creak open.

Everyone turns to look at the intruder, and Kenma's stomach squirms. It's you again. And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, and he hates the way it makes him feel.

It's dead silent, and you stand at the door for a second before quickly walking towards him, and Kenma's heart pounds even louder. He doesn't understand you. Why do you pursue him so much? You're cute, he can't deny it. So why, out of all the people in Nekoma High, did you chase after him? And why is it making his heart go wild?

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. A freshly baked apple pie that smells absolutely delicious, and a large red gift bag.

Oh wow... He's speechless. He doesn't know what to say. It feels like with the surprise celebration, and it feels like too much. What is he supposed to say? But before he can even regain his composure, you're rushing out of the gym, and Kenma's stomach churns. Oh...

Once the gym doors close with a loud slam, the entire team turns to look at him. They blink, and then they leap. Kenma yelps as the entire team rush towards him, yapping and all of them speaking at the same time.

"Lemme see what she got you!"

"Y/N L/N is so adorable!"

"Kenma, have you secretly been dating Y/N this entire time?!" Fukunaga pipes in, and Kenma finds his face heating up as his eyes widen.

"What?! Of course not!" And then Kuroo's snickering as he sits next to Kenma, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"She's a sweet girl. Why don't you give her a chance?"

He lets out a shaky breath, his poor heart barely handling all the commotion. Kenma definitely needs at least one hour of cuddling with his white kitten after school to recover from all this. He blocks out what his friends say as his thoughts drift off, and he furrows his brows.

Wait a minute. How did you know he likes apple pie?

A/N: Hey!! I hope you enjoyed the first half of this one-shot :)) I totally did not speedrun it 1-2 days before the collab event was live 😭😭I’ve been busy with school and just life in general so I haven’t had much time to write tbh. And plus I’m lazy :,) but anyway! I hoped you enjoyed it as much I enjoyed writing it :DD The 2nd and final part of this one-shot will be out this week!

Please REBLOG, like + comment if you enjoyed! <3

209 notes · View notes

noonachronicles · 3 years ago

Text

The End of the F**king World - Extended Ending

Byun Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Smut.

Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Slow Burn (ish?). One pining pup and one idiot in denial to eventual lovers.

A/N: A little extra because I felt bad. :)

“Honey,” Baekhyun turned to look at you with a grin, “we’re home.”

He dropped the backpack he’d been wearing on the counter and flipped over two of the shot glasses. You watched him grab one of the flashlights that you left under the bar for emergencies, or in this case because he didn’t have one, and made his way down to the basement.

You didn’t follow. Suddenly you felt stuck. Your eyes wandered around the empty hall in front of you. It hadn’t been raining over Cordially yet but it was still overcast outside which left the whole room looking a bit dull which was only accentuated by the dust on the floors. You could see the cleared track that Baekhyun had left when he threw the stool.

The memory felt so distant in your mind it made you feel displaced. You could remember the anxiety, the fear, and the tension that surrounded you that night. It hit you that you didn’t feel any of those things at that moment and that it had been such a long time since you hadn’t.

In fact for the last three years all you’d remembered feeling was anxious and scared. There was barely a moment that you weren’t tense between the shoulders. Always thinking about what life threatening situation you’d have to figure your way out of next.

Baekhyun came back upstairs with a wistful clap of his hands that snapped you out of your daze. “I got the generator going.”

“Oh.” You gave a little nod, barely registering that’s where he’d gone to.

“You okay?” He asked, realizing you hadn’t moved any further inside.

“Yeah. Better than I’ve been in years.” You said with complete genuineness. “It’s just weird. Don’t you think? Feels like all of this was a lifetime ago. It’s only been a week or two but so much happened.”

“I try not to think about the before times.” He smirked, “The before you and I times, I mean.”

“That’s true. The last time we were here we weren’t us. We were just you and I.”

Baekhyun stepped in front of you and your body eased even further at the feel of his fingers brushing the loose hairs from your cheek.

He watched your face as he leaned in, a little gulp moving down his throat as if you made him nervous all over again. You watched him back while he got closer until his lips met yours and then you closed your eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against your lips after a couple seconds.

“Always.”

Only a minute passed when you noticed there was a middle school dance amount of space between the two of you and tried to lean in. It was only then you realized how tense he seemed. He kept one hand gently cupping the back of your head and the other one firmly on your hip. His forearm was stiff, keeping the space between you.

It took a moment to understand why but then you remembered on the roof when you’d told him you weren’t sure you were comfortable being intimate. You could feel your heart swell in your chest and just when you’d thought you couldn’t love him any more than you already did.

Gripping his forearm tightly, you pried his hand from your hip, freeing you to step in closer to him. He seemed a little hesitant at first but gave in pretty easily. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you chest to chest. You knew instantly he’d been itching to hold you like that the whole time.

You tried pressing yourself into him as the kiss finally deepened. You wanted him deeper, you wanted him to sink into you through your skin and never leave. It felt good, unquestionably good, like it was supposed to.

“Do you want to…” he pulled back, just barely enough to look at you with a suggestive little smile. “I know you said… and that you’ve been through a lot the last few days so if you don’t, that’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I’m okay like this. Just kissing. You’re kind of just giving me, you know, vibes.”

“I thought maybe I wasn’t being obvious enough.”

“Oh you were.” He laughed and then looked at you more seriously, “Are you absolutely sure?”

You nodded and then the sound of your best friend's voice echoed at the back of your mind, you look like shit.

“I think maybe I’d like to wash up first though. If that's okay?”

Baekhyun looked down at his arms, still streaked with dried blood. “I guess I should too.”

“We could always do it together…” you suggested, “I wash your back, you wash mine…”

“Yes.” He said with zero hesitation. “You head upstairs and I’ll go run and grab a couple lanterns? Looks like the generator needs to warm up still since the lights aren't turning on yet.”

“I can get them. You already went down to turn the generator on in the first place.”

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t want you to have to be down the stairs and up the stairs again. I can do it for you.”

“Baek, you don’t have to treat me like I’m some delicate thing.”

“I do.” He argued, “Because you are.”

You couldn’t help but blush at the softness in his tone. “I won’t break if you let me do things.”

He glanced at the sling Seulgi insisted on making you before letting you take off with Baekhyun. “Just let me do this nice thing for you?”

“Fine.” You sighed, “I hope you really relish this time of my incapacitation. When my shoulder’s back in business I’m gonna do things for you. And I’m gonna protect you. And I’m gonna save you from evil space villains.”

“I know,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb over your pouty cheek. “You'll be back to kicking ass in no time. Actually it's one of my favorite things about you. You don’t need me.”

“Yes I do! Of course I do!”

“No you don’t, and that’s okay.” He leaned in and gave you a little kiss, “You don’t need me, Y/n. You want me. And that’s so much better.”

“Okay, I like that.” You blushed, “But it’s only partially correct. I don’t need you for dumb shit like opening my pickle jars, and moving furniture, but I do need you. I need you the same way I need air. Sometimes it seems like I don’t need you to do much but if you were ever gone I’d die.”

His cheeks were round with a smile and growing pinker by the second but he just laughed, “Remember when you spent years pretending like you weren’t totally in love with me? Oscar worthy performance.”

“I hate you.” you sighed and gave his shoulder a shove, “Go get the lanterns, I want to get this Lurker ash out of my hair.”

You followed him to the top of the stairs and watched as he disappeared into the basement. After a second of consideration you yelled for him to bring some clothes to change into while he was down there. It took a couple minutes but finally he trudged his way back up the stairs. You offered to carry one of the lanterns he’d grabbed but you would only let you take the clothes from under his arm.

When you were in the bathroom watching him set up the lights you couldn’t help but get nervous. It was the first time you were going to be in the bathroom with someone else. It wasn’t like seeing you naked was something he’d never done, but the idea of being with him here gave you butterflies. While you wondered if every new thing you did with him would make you giddy and excited you realized how grateful you were to have someone that made you feel that way at all.

After he'd finished he helped you take off your sling and placed it carefully on the shelf with the towels. Then he came back and helped you ease your shirt over your head, making sure it didn’t tug too much on your bad shoulder and you stood there for a moment in just your jeans and bra. You kept your balled up shirt against your chest as you looked at Baekhyun. He was tugging off his shoes and throwing them near the door. Though he’d helped with your shirt he hadn’t really looked at you yet and suddenly you weren’t sure you wanted him too. You were too afraid that he’d see your naked body and remember that you’d let someone else put their hands all over it. With his hands on the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it over his head, he looked over at you and stopped.

Dropping the shirt he let out a little sigh and smiled over at you, “You changed your mind.”

“Yes. No…” you sighed too and stepped into him. He wrapped his arms around you and you leaned your head against his chest. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to be a tease. I really thought it’s what I wanted but I keep…I keep having these moments and it makes me so unsure.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m not in any rush.” He pressed a quick kiss against your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Though we should wash up since we’re already here. And if you’re uncomfortable I can go first. And if you want me to leave when I’m done so you can be alone, that’s okay too.”

“I definitely don’t want to be alone.” You told him. “Well, really I just don’t want to be without you.”

There was the hint of a blush on his cheeks. He gave you another reassuring kiss and stepped back as he tugged his shirt up and over his head. Your heart sank as you looked over at him. The shirt in your hand dropped to your feet as your whole body seemed to go limp at the sight.

“Baekhyun.” you said so quietly and so pained he barely heard it.

He caught your gaze and then looked down at his own body. It was dark all over with bruises that mixed with little pink cuts. Some of them were just a couple days older, from the battle, but a lot of them were from the night before. He tried turning around so you weren’t so bothered by it but his back was worse. Practically one big bruise and all you could see was Baddie beating him with the two by four and you couldn’t stop the sob from escaping your mouth.

“Fuck.” he dropped his shirt on the ground and came back over to you, his fingers wrapping around your arms, “It looks bad, doesn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.” With a little nod you just sniffled. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

“Why? You didn’t do it!” he laughed, “And I swear it doesn’t feel as bad as it probably looks.”

“He said it was my fault.” you muttered pitifully. “He said he picked you because I loved you. And then he did this and it’s my fault.”

“Well, he’s dead so what did he know?” he asked, “I don’t blame you for loving me. I love you for loving me. And I’ll heal so there's no reason for you to be so upset. We all got hurt. Look at you, you have some battle scars too. We’re going to be okay though, we’re gonna be just fine.”

You looked down at your arm. You hadn’t really looked at yourself in days. Your shoulder alone was bruised all over. It was black with blues and purples mixed in, it looked like a little galaxy. He was right, both of your arms, your abdomen, they were all sprinkled with cuts and bruises. Nothing at all as bad as him, but still a part of your story.

“I still feel bad.” you pouted.

He nodded, his thumb moving over the sad curve of your lips. “What if as a punishment I make you wash my hair? My arms are really sore so I would appreciate it if you would help me.”

You nodded enthusiastically, you’d been waiting for him to need you all morning. “I can do that. I'll get the shampoo.”

While you went over to the shelf with the towels and everyone’s different soaps and shampoos Baekhyun turned on the water. He let it run, just barely, before grabbing the shower head from its holder and shoving his head under the water. You watched him longer than you intended before quickly kicking off your shoes next to where his shoes had landed and pulling off your socks.

As you walked back over to him he gave his head a little shake, like a puppy just out of the bath and threw his head back. Water flew all over the room, including directly into your face, but it made you smile to see him so playful. So himself.

“Here…” you stopped beside him and squeezed a dollop of shampoo into your hand before slapping it on top of his head.

He just smiled as he watched you attempt, as best you could, to shampoo his head one handed.

“Let me make it easier on you.”

He leaned in giving you a kiss on the lips and then moving his mouth over your skin. He kissed your cheek, your neck, your chest. He kept kissing you as he sank down to his knees in front of you. From there you were easily able to run both of your hands through his soapy hair.

“I like this.” He muttered after a few minutes massaging, his forehead pressing against your hip.

As you continued washing his hair he left little kisses along the waistline of your jeans. His hands massaged the backs of your legs as you massaged the top of his head. And you sighed as the mood inched its way back.

“Please don’t hate me,” you were hesitant to even say it, then he looked up at you with big doe eyes, “Can we try again?”

He nodded, a hesitant smile on his face, “As long as you’re sure.”

“I am.” You tried to give him your own reassuring smile, “But first put your head back.”

He did as you asked, leaning his head back so he was looking up at you. Then he closed his eyes and waited patiently. When you looked down at him your stomach did a flip. It could have been a hundred little things. The way he’d been so obedient about it. The way his wet hair was pushed back showing you every inch of his gorgeous face. The way water droplets moved across his skin, down his neck and chest.

Shaking yourself out of it you rinsed the shampoo from his hair, letting your fingers move through the soft, slick locks.

When you were sure you’d gotten everything you dropped your hands to your sides. The shower head completely drenched your pants but you didn’t care. You were far too preoccupied.

“Okay.” You said quietly.

Then you watched as Baekhyun, kneeling before you, peeled the wet denim from your thighs. Standing there in just your underwear would have usually left you feeling vulnerable but you didn’t, not with him. His eyes moved over your skin before his hands did. He looked serious.

Baekhyun looked down at your legs, scratched and bruised, with a frown. As if it was his fault. As if there was a way he could have protected you better. He understood, looking over your body, exactly how you’d felt seeing him.

“Do you hurt horribly?” He asked, lifting his hands to your thigh. His fingers moved slowly and gently over your skin, and he left a kiss just above your knee.

“Not so much anymore.” You shook your head, “It looks gross though, I know. Ugly.”

With a little hush he scowled at you, “You’ve never known anything about how beautiful you are.”

You almost felt silly standing there, not really sure what to do other than watch him. His lips pressed little kisses all over your legs. He nuzzled gently to a spot near your panty line and you felt an excitement bubble in your stomach and laughed.

“What?” He asked in a murmur against your skin.

“Deja vu.”

“I can promise you, we’ve never done it this way before.”

“Do you remember the fantasy I told you about?” You asked, “The one I was having on the roof, the day Baddie showed up? This was basically it.”

Baekhyun hummed, and hooked his fingers into your panties and dragged them down your legs, careful not to hit any especially gnarly looking bruises.

“We should have lit some candles.” He said thoughtfully. “Next time maybe. We’ll just keep doing this until we get it right.”

“I would love that.”

You dug your teeth into your lip while he leaned in. His tongue and lips met your most sensitive skin. You’d been so anxious and worried that he’d think you were repulsive. Projecting your disgust and disappointment in yourself you’d imagined a scenario where he didn’t even want to touch you anymore and had apparently been trying to make it a reality.

Baekhyun wasn’t going to let you do that, and he was making it clear to you. Within a few minutes you were nearly doubled over. His cheeks squished, happily, between your thighs. The fingers from your good arm were tugging on the hair at the top of his head while the ones on your sore arm just tried to keep their grip on the shower head.

He ate you out like he had something to prove. You’d half thought to tell him he didn’t need to go so hard but who were you to complain. His fingers moved inside of you, coaxing your orgasm until finally you couldn’t take it anymore. Your legs were shaking and you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand if he went on much longer. You tried to hint that he had sufficiently warmed you up but he didn’t get up from his knees until you'd come.

You already felt exhausted but Baekhyun popped up happier and more enthusiastic than you’d seen him all day. “How are you doing? Still okay?”

“You could say that.” you laughed, lifting your hand to his neck. You pulled his face to yours for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. His hands met your hips gently and he walked you back a few steps until your back was pressed against the cold tile wall of the bathroom.

“Is this right here okay for you?” He leaned away and eyed the wall as if looking to check its integrity.

“This is fine.” You nodded.

“If at any point you want me to stop-“

“I won’t.” you whispered back. “I promise.”

He nodded and then stepped back. You watched with great amusement as he hopped and wiggled his way out of his wet jeans until he was naked in front of you. Stepping in closer to you he looked at you one more time and you just nodded. Then he slipped himself inside of you. His head fell back with a sigh of what sounded like relief. Pulling his head back up he caught your eye and tried a couple test thrusts. Groaning with the absolute pleasure of being with him, you were ready to melt into him. You realized you were still clutching onto the showerhead and switched it over to your good hand, so you could wrap your arm around his shoulder a little more comfortably.

“Is this okay? Do you feel good?”

“Mhmm.” You assured him, “It feels really good, Baek. You don’t have to keep asking, just…enjoy yourself.”

“Oh trust me, I am.” he laughed, “If you change your mind, say the word.”

You sucked his bottom lip between yours, giving him a kiss that left him moaning. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

Baekhyun seemed to finally believe you then and really let himself get into it. He was still very cautious, very aware of where he put his hands in relation to your bigger wounds. He was so thoughtful and never let his pleasure take priority. He leaned his whole body into you, his hand lifting your leg up to his hip to get deeper.

“Wait,” you gasped, suddenly very aware of the fabric of your bra keeping you from feeling him all the way against you. He stopped instantly to look at you, “Everything's okay, but help me take this off?”

“Oh of course!”

Keeping your leg up around his hip you leaned into him and he unclasped your bra, helping you slide it down your arms. He threw it over to where all of your other soaked clothes were piling up and went on more vigorously than he had been before.

You ran your hands gently over his bruises. Your fingers roamed slow and soft against his wet skin. He shivered with pleasure as they went gliding over his stomach and his hips.

The romance between the two of you was alive and well. It surprised you how happy it made you. You never really thought the element of softness and intimacy was important when you were having sex. Then again it wasn’t really just sex with him. It never had been, and knowing him it never would be. He’d always sneak in some way to let you know he loved you. Leaning back to check on you once again his eyes went wide.

“Oh god. You’re crying.” He said, sounding completely mortified.

“No, it’s okay!” You laughed, you knew you were crying but you thought with all the water it wouldn’t have been so noticeable. Then again it was him and he noticed everything. “It’s good. It’s a happy cry.”

“Happy?”

He leaned in to kiss your neck and you could feel him push deeper inside of you. Your mouth dropped with a sigh, “It just feels right. It’s you. It’s us. It just feels right and it makes me so happy.”

“I’ll never get tired of making you happy.”

“I know.” you whispered against his ear, before giving him an encouraging little nibble on his earlobe.

He reached his hand up to his shoulder where you were holding the shower head, just letting it waterfall down his back.

“Can I see this for a second?” He asked, wrapping his fingers around the handle.

“Yes, oh, yes.” You said, letting him take it from you.

He brought the shower head between the two of you and slowly dragged it down your naked body. You gasped as the water hit that particular spot he’d been aiming for and pulled him closer with your good arm.

“Does that feel good?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes! Oh fuck, oh fuck me, it feels so good.”

Baekhyun kept his steady pace and your whimpers and gasps of pleasure became more and more frequent. That was the part he lived for. He watched your face eagerly for the little signs that he was doing it right and that you were about to come. The sight of them only urging him closer to his own orgasm.

“Shit!” You yelped, “I’m gonna…I’m coming.”

You buried your face in his neck, fingernails digging into his shoulder as you attempted to keep him as close as possible. He kept the shower head steady for a few minutes longer, feeling your body vibrating all around him. With you still in a daze he finally dropped the shower head with a clatter onto the bathroom floor so he could finish himself off. His thrusting became much more aggressive, nearly lifting you off your feet. When he was done he eased you back down and neither of you moved for sometime.

Finally, after several minutes, of just the both of you breathing and the sound of the water coming out of the shower head you managed a, “Oh, wow.”

“Do you feel okay?” He asked sweetly, pushing your hair back.

“Okay?” You laughed, “I haven’t felt this good in days.”

“Good.” He grinned, just a hint of arrogance on his lips.

You stood a little unsteady when he removed himself from you. But you watched him bend down and grab the shower head, giving both of you a nice rinse down before shutting off the faucet.

“Well, I think we definitely used up the water allowance for the day.” He joked, and you rewarded him with a happy, dazed little laugh.

Leaving you leaned up against the wall he hurried over to grab the towels, not wanting to make you wait too long. Though you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You were too busy soaking in your own euphoria. After his quick return, Baekhyun didn’t leave anything for you to do but stare at him bright eyed as he dried you off. He started with your legs and moved up to your stomach and your chest. You caught his hands in yours then and urged him to kiss you, so he did.

“I have to ask,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Am I better than he was?”

When he leaned back to let you answer you looked at him for a long time to see if he was serious. It seemed he was so you held back your amused laugh so as not to offend him.

“In every single way.”

He smiled then, satisfied, and helped you get your hair into the towel before drying himself off. It was as he helped you get dressed in the oversized shirt and boxer shorts he’d picked for you to wear that you became overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he was. He took care of you first every step of the way and you wished you could put into words what it felt like.

Being Baekhyun is what made Baekhyun special. There was no other way to say it.

Once you were both dressed and he’d helped you get your arm back into the sling, you each grabbed a lantern and made your way downstairs. The others still weren’t there. They'd gone back to the hotel to get Irene to bring her home too and you knew it would take some time for them to get her back with her injuries. For the moment you were grateful it was just the two of you. You looked forward to having everyone back home, but having a moment for just the two of you was heavenly.

“Your place or mine?” Baekhyun asked as you made it all the way down to the basement.

After a moment of thought you looked over your shoulder at him, “You know, I’ve never stayed over at your place.”

Rubbing his wet hair with his towel he gestured over to the sheets that kept his cot private. You moved through the opening and looked around at the small space. It was tidy and you weren’t sure why but it made you smile.

“Do I get the tour?” You asked as he made his way in behind you.

“Hmm,” he cleared his throat, “Of course. Over here is my study.”

You looked over at the small side table sized bookshelf. There was a stack of books, a couple of notebooks, a cup of pens and markers, and what looked like a journal.

“Next to that is my at-home office, and next to that is the kitchen.”

The at-home office was a crate overflowing with bookbinding tools, photos he’d developed at his dark room a few blocks away, and the latest volume of his History of the End of the World books that he was working on. The kitchen was an electric kettle, a box of tea, and a glass jar of oatmeal.

“This is nice!” You grinned, “What do you pay for a spot like this, and in such a great part of the city? Like fifteen hundred?”

“I don’t want to brag, but it’s rent controlled, so actually not that bad.” He tossed his towel onto the lone chair in the corner of his small living space. “So, do you want to see the bedroom next or the playroom?”

Your eyebrows shot up towards your hairline, “Playroom?!”

With a huff he moved past you and opened up one of those plastic crates people used to put Christmas decorations in once the holidays were over. Inside you could see it was packed with puzzles, lego sets, tabletop and card games.

“What did you think I meant?” He asked looking up at you.

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I’m also somehow not at all surprised.” You laughed.

He nodded over to the crudely put together bed, a small mattress on a stack of old wooden pallets. “Bedroom.”

You sat down with a little hum. It was nice, actually. It was no hotel bed, but it was better than sleeping on the floor.

“It’s nicer than mine.” You noted, before throwing your legs up to stretch out.

“Yet another thing you’ve been missing out on all this time.” He shrugged smuggly before crawling over to the side of the bed.

You rolled your eyes at the comment, “For the rest of our lives?”

“For the rest of our lives.”

Taking a deep breath you rolled over and looked at him, “Good.”

“I’ve been thinking about getting you into my bed for a long time, and I’m gonna say it, you never disappoint.” There was a small smile on his lips as he pushed a few strands of wet hair back under the towel on your head.

“I’m not even doing anything. I’m just laying here.”

“And you’re doing it wonderfully.”

“Well what can I say…” you slid your hand to test out the cool underside of his pillow. The pillow that smelled like him and was soft like him. You could get used to this pillow.

You could feel something relatively sharp poke your knuckle and lifted your head to see what was hiding underneath. A huge smile plastered itself on your face as you pulled out a small stack of photographs.

You couldn’t help but feel giggly at the idea that he’d really had pictures of you hidden away under his pillow all this time. Like some smitten school boy. He was in love with you in such a cliche sort of way that it was absolutely perfect. He was absolutely perfect.

“Tell me these are all of me.” You laughed.

Baekhyun just blushed, knowing full well he’d been caught. He watched as you happily flipped through the pictures. There was something so special to you about getting to see yourself the way he saw you.

The stack was small but stretched pretty evenly over the last few years. From what you could tell the pictures were mostly candid. It held up. After Baekhyun had established his documenting hobby everyone in your family ignored having their picture taken pretty easily. He took pictures of anything at any time for practice with the cameras and also developing. The click and flash of his camera was incredibly common. It made sense you wouldn’t have noticed him taking so many of you.

There was one of you being taught how to throw knives by Sehun. One of you on the couch with Seulgi and Irene, all of you in your pajamas laughing hysterically at something you’d long forgotten. He had one of you tucked into an oversized chair reading a book that was propped open on the arm. You lingered on that one for some time trying to remember where he could have taken it. Then you remembered when you used to scavenge together, if it was a slow day, the two of you would go to the bookstore and read all afternoon.

“That ones my favorite.” He said as you came across a close up picture of your face. It was black and white and you looked concentrated with your teeth digging into your bottom lip. You watched as he lifted his finger up to the photograph and made a move as if to brush the hair behind your ear. “Always makes me wanna do that.”

The last one was a little surprise, it was a picture you’d taken. You were behind Baekhyun, hanging over his shoulders. One of your arms was outstretched, holding the camera and the other one was wrapped around him. Your faces were squished together cheek to cheek. Your face was at just the perfect angle that your lips were kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Why isn’t this one your favorite?” You asked curiously as you handed the pictures back to him.

He shrugged, placing them on the corner of his nightstand. “Just after this was taken you stopped wanting to be around me. Sometimes it reminds me of that and, I don’t know, it sounds lame but that really hurt me. I don’t like remembering it.”

“I don’t know why I always thought you wouldn’t notice that I did that.”

Baekhyun laughed at that, “You were my best friend and then all of a sudden you weren’t. Of course I noticed.”

“I spent so much time making sure I didn’t get hurt I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.” You frowned and reached your hand out to touch his cheek.

“It’s history now.”

“Still you’re a saint for loving someone as selfish as me.”

“Loving you isn’t as hard as you think it is.”

“I’d still like to try and make it easier for you.”

He nodded, “I like that.”

With a groan from your aching body you sat back up and let your towel slide off your head, “I have to brush my hair.”

“I’ll do it for you.” Baekhyun suggested.

“I can brush my own hair, but thank you.” You scoffed.

“Can you?” He asked, sounding very light hearted.

He grabbed a box from beside the bed and pulled out a hairbrush before handing it to your freshly slinged arm. You switched the brush to your good arm and brushed that side. Then you tried using the same arm for the other side and let yourself look like a fool for way too long. Your hair gathered knots in the process.

“Fine, but I have to run back to my place and grab something. I promise I’ll come right back.” You said dropping the brush in his lap before taking off without another word.

When you came back he was sitting up on the bed with a space for you between his legs and you had brought with you a nail file and some polish. He brushed out your hair as you painted your nails. He even hummed as he gave you a half decent french braid. You decided not to ask him where he learned how to do it.

“All done.” Baekhyun announced, dropping his hands to your waist.

“I’m almost done too.” You said focusing on your last couple of nails.

“And then snuggle?”

“And then snuggle.” You agreed.

“I was thinking,” he said as his hands massaged their way up your back, “tomorrow I can start to clean up the loft at the record store. Maybe you wanna come with? Make sure I don’t toss out anything you might want?”

Eyebrows scrunched in bemusement you closed the cap in your nail polish. “You know what I was thinking? Three to four straight days of laying right here with you and not doing a single other thing.”

“Wait, I like yours better.”

“We deserve a break. The world is not going to end again if we take a couple days to do nothing.”

“I think you’re right.” He said moving around beside you until he was laying down.

He looked up at you expectantly as you waited for your last few nails to dry. Suddenly the perfect set of nails seemed less than important and you scooted yourself down the mattress to lay beside him. He cupped your cheek with his hand and kissed you softly. You were certain this was all you needed in the universe. Only one thing could make it better.

“Actually, I may have to leave for a little bit tomorrow.” you muttered quietly against his lips.

“Oh yeah?” He said, “You have somewhere important to be?”

You shrugged, “I just want to run back to the hotel and get my tape player. I left it there before the fight.”

Baekhyun nodded with understanding, a little smirk curled up on his lips. “Gotcha.”

“What's with the face?”

He rolled over you, all of his body weight pressing into, as he reached over the side of the bed. You groaned in very mild discomfort but your arms were trapped at your sides so you couldn’t push him off. Instead you looked down at where he was digging into his backpack.

“Shut up.” You couldn't stop your cheeks from bubbling up in a smile. “You didn’t!”

He pulled your tape player from the bag and rolled back over to his place in bed, placing it on top of your stomach. “Once I knew you were at the antique store I went back to the hotel the next morning and got all of our stuff. I didn’t really have a plan but if we needed to go away somewhere I wanted to be ready.”

“I must have already left the store before you got back, how’d you find us again?”

Baekhyun’s proud smile dropped into a frown almost immediately. “I was heading back, I was going to hide in the building across the street again until I could figure out what to do. I heard you scream. That’s how I found out you guys were in the building. I almost walked right into him.”

“Oh.”

“It was the worst sound I think I’ve ever heard in my life. You sounded so hurt. I thought he was torturing you or something. I wanted to do something then but I knew I wasn’t ready and when I saw that you looked okay, physically, I didn’t want to run in there and get you hurt.”

“Wait, you were there? You were in the building with us?” When he nodded you let out a pained laugh. “He told me you were dead. He said he killed you. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe so I had to scream.”

“God, this whole thing has been so shitty.” He wrapped his arms tightly around you. “You’ve been through such a nightmare. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You sighed, and you were pretty sure you meant it. “He was lying and you’re alive. I have you back now, the real you, so…I don’t know, none of the rest of it matters.”

“Really?” He asked, obviously pleasantly surprised.

“Someone taught me that I should try and live in the moment more. Turns out it’s kind of working for me.”

“This ‘someone’ that taught you that…Are you in love with him?”

“Maybe.”

“You so are.” He smirked. His eyes lingered on your face for a while like he worried there was a chance he’d have it taken away from him again, “Are you happy?”

“Very happy.” you nodded.

“Because of me?” he raised a cheeky eyebrow, “It’s because of me, right?”

“Couldn’t possibly be because we survived the end of the world.” you said sarcastically, but he just looked at you with his happy, knowing smile. With your best annoyed sigh, you rolled your eyes, “Yes, because of you.”

You’d been so tired. For days you'd felt exhausted and desperate for rest. However, lying there beside Baekhyun, you couldn’t fall asleep. You didn’t even really want to close your eyes to try. Maybe you were afraid that if you closed your eyes you’d find out this was just another dream. Or maybe he was just the spark of energy you needed. Your life force.

Apparently he was content in the same way. The two of you just laid there together, waiting for your friends to get home, looking at each other like there was nothing better to do. You weren’t sure there was anything better for you to do. So you pushed an ear bud in your ear and one into his and pressed play on your tape player and waited. Both of you together, just waiting for the next end of the world to come.

#byun baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenario #exo scenarios #baekhyun smut #exo smut #kpop scenarios #teotfw #baekhyun x reader #exo x reader

117 notes · View notes

fortheloveofwonderland · 4 years ago

Text

Sixty Six Percent [Spencer x fem! Reader]

A/N - This is for my “girls night out” square on my CM bingo card for @cmbingo, which you can find the masterlist for here. Also loosely based off this prompt I’ve been wanting to write for a while - Our best friends are that awful “cute” couple that make out in public and call each other “sweetie” and “sugar” and god they’re awful, let’s talk about how awful they are – develops into “oh we’re that awful couple now”. Includes some Galvez and is set circa season 14 ish. Bottom right image taken from Kirsten’s Instagram.

CW - not much really - just drinking and fluff.

In which girls night takes an unexpected turn when it coincides with boys night.

WC: 2.2K

Find my full Masterlist here.

Western’s bar in DC on a Friday night had been a must for girls night out. It was known for its cheap drinks, loud music and packed dance floor. Everything you and the girls were looking for.

When your closest friends worked for the FBI, arranging girls night was always a near impossible feat. You’d lost count of how many times Penelope, Emily, JJ and Tara had to bail on your plans because another case had come up.

You understood, you’d been best friends with Penelope for years now and you appreciated their schedules were hectic but you were always left downtrodden when they’d had to cancel again.

But finally after weeks of cancellations and rescheduling, tonight they had been free for girls night.

Shots were flowing and you all showed off your moves on the dance floor. You and Tara being the only single ones of the group danced with a few men but it was all harmless flirting, nothing serious.

You weren’t looking to take someone home tonight.

It was nearing midnight and you had all taken a break from dancing to rehydrate with vodka. You noticed Penelope’s eyes shift away from the girls across the room and her perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitted together.

“What is it, Pen?” You asked her, having to speak loudly to be heard over the music.

“We can’t just have one night.” She rolled her eyes but then her face broke out into a large smile. “Excuse me.” And with that she sauntered off.

Your gaze followed where she had gone to see her throwing herself into the arms of her boyfriend, Luke Alvez.

You chuckled to yourself, nudging Emily in the arm.

“They just can’t stay away from each other can they?” You laughed.

“It’s disgusting really.” Emily also laughed.

“Looks like they're having a boys night. We should probably go and say hi.” JJ shrugged.

“I suppose it would be rude not to.” Tara agreed.

The four of you followed in Penelope’s footsteps across the room. You’d met most of the team over the years thanks to Penelope and you said your hellos to Luke, Rossi and Matt.

The last man you came to had incredible hazel eyes, which even in the dim lighting of the bar you could see were flecked with gold. He had a light stubble on his cheeks and untamed curls you had a sudden desire to run your fingers through.

Spencer Reid, you assumed. You’d heard of him countless times but for whatever reason the two of you had never met. You got the impression he avoided social situations in lieu of more academic pursuits.

You’d heard stories of his time in prison and looking at him now it struck you that there was a hint of sadness in those hazel eyes and you assumed that must be why.

“You must be Spencer.” You smiled a little shyly at him. You had no idea he’d be so attractive. “I’m Y/N.”

He smiled at you but you noticed it was stifled. Like he knew the fact you knew his name meant you knew what had happened to him.

“Yes, I’m Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you Y/N, I can’t believe we’ve never met before.” Despite the sadness about him, his eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you and it made you feel hot under the collar.

“Me either.” You couldn’t help but beam, had Penelope been hiding him from you? He was just your type.

You turned to look at your friends briefly but were surprised to find them gone. Tara, Emily, JJ and Matt were now dancing in the middle of the floor while Rossi propped up the bar, sipping his single malt.

A few feet from where you were standing with Spencer, Luke and Penelope were swapping saliva in an extremely NC-17 fashion.

He had his hands on her voluptuous backside and her fingers were clawing at his shirt.

“Are they always like this?” You turned back to Spencer with a grimace.

He shrugged.

“Not always but often enough not to be phased by it anymore.” He chucked a little.

“Young love.” You laughed too.

“They’re actually pretty cute when they aren’t pushing the boundaries of public displays of affection.”

“Pen always refers to him as bunny, it makes me sick.” You laughed harder.

“Oh gosh.” Spencer pulled a face. “They flirt over the phone on cases all the time. It takes forever to get an answer out of Garcia because they have to flirt in every single call.”

“I bet he hasn’t described to you their sex life in graphic detail. Because Penelope has.” You shudder a little. “I know more about Luke’s anatomy than I ever needed to know.”

“That’s...that’s unfortunate.” Spencer laughed.

“Yeah that’s one way to put it.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” His smile was much less sad now, and more genuine as he looked at you. The way he was smiling at you made you feel weak.

“That would be really nice.” You nodded.

You followed Spencer to the bar where he ordered you both a drink and paid. He then led you over to a small booth away from the chaos where you sat next to him to allow you to be able to converse over the music. At least that’s what you told yourself.

It had nothing to do with the fact you wanted to be close to him. Absolutely nothing.

“One time we were on a case in Boston and I called Garcia and for whatever reason she thought I was Luke and she started graphically describing what she was going to do to me, Luke when I got home. It was...disturbing to say the least.”

“Oh wow. That sounds...horrible.” You laughed.

“I’ve not been able to properly look her in the eye since.” Spencer pulled a face.

“They are the definition of sickening. But they’re happy. I guess that’s all that matters.” You shrugged, sipping your drink. “They’re lucky, one night stands have never worked out that well for me.”

“No?” Spencer looked inquisitive. “I’ve never had one.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought everyone had had at least one.”

“Statistically only sixty six percent of American’s have had a one night stand before.”

“I forgot Penelope told me you were a genius.” You laughed again. “That’s a surprisingly low number.”

“It’s still over two hundred and sixteen million people.” he didn’t even look as though he had to think to know something like that. You were impressed and felt slightly inadequate in comparison to him.

“Oh, in that case I suppose it is a lot.” you didn’t really know what you could say to that. “Can I ask why you’ve never had a one night stand?”

Spencer contemplated his answer this time. Facts and statistics rolled off his tongue but when he had to speak of personal things it often took him a moment to find the right thing to say.

“I suppose I’m a romantic at heart. One night stands seem kind of...disheartening to me. I’m not saying never but I’ve never felt the need thus far in my life.”

“See I don’t agree.” you turned in your seat so you could look at him properly. This close you could really see his incredible bone structure, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. You wanted to run your fingertips over the delicate curves of his face, kiss the stubble on his soft skin and make your way to those plump lips of his. “Being single is hard, especially when your best friend is Penelope who is and is all loved up with Alvez. One night stands provide a little solace from the loneliness I guess.” you shrugged, trying not to sound like you were throwing a pity party for yourself.

“But isn’t it just lonely all over again when it's over?” Spencer leaned closer to you and your eyes were fixated on his lips.

“I don’t know.” mirroring him, you leaned closer. “We could always find out.” you smirked at him. You had just met him and you knew being so brazenly flirtatious could be dangerous territory. But you’d gone all these years without ever crossing paths so you supposed if this went south and Spencer rebuffed you then avoiding him wouldn’t be that difficult.

His facial expression didn’t change so you had no idea what he was thinking or how he had taken your advances. He leaned even closer and your eyes were still locked on his lips.

“Are you asking me to come home with you Y/N?” his eyes were dark, lust perhaps?

“I’m asking you to join the sixty six percent Spencer.”

For a few long seconds neither of you moved or spoke. Spencer eyes fell over you, lingering longer on your lips. You shifted a little in your seat feeling hot under his intense gaze. He leaned even closer and you thought he was about to kiss you, but just as he inched towards you, a voice snapped you back to reality.

“Y/N there you are!” it was Emily. “And Spence, hey.”

“Hi Emily, what’s up?” you would never forgive her if she had gotten in the way of Spencer kissing you.

“Come and dance, it's girls night!” she tugged your arm, pulling you so you were on your feet.

Spencer shuffled out of the booth behind you. As Emily started dragging you towards the dancefloor, he came close to your ear and whispered “I’ll come and find you later.” and then he headed over towards Rossi who was still propping up the bar.

You danced with the girls for hours, even Penelope when she came up for air and pried herself away from Luke for more than a few seconds. The drinks kept flowing, laughter was aplenty; it was a great night all round. It had been worth waiting for.

Around three am you and the girls decided to call it night. You were a little tipsy and your feet hurt from all the dancing. You had lost track of Spencer earlier in the night, you were a little disappointed but it was probably for the best. A one night stand with your best friend's colleague would no doubt only end in disaster.

You said your goodbyes outside, hugs and cheek kisses were dished out and they all promised you would have another girls night as soon as their schedules allowed. You lived on the other side of town than the girls so you waved off their cab from the curb and awaited the next one. It wasn’t long before another cab pulled up and to your confusion the rear window rolled down as it came to a stop.

“Told you I’d find you later.” Spencer smiled at you from the backseat.

You tried to hide your blush as you slid in next to him.

“I thought you left.” you buckled yourself in and almost immediately Spencer took hold of your hand.

“Not without you.” he leaned closer and then his lips pressed against yours in the backseat of the cab and you felt your whole body turn to jelly at the sensation. He used his free hand to cup your face as he deepened the kiss.

You felt a jolt of electricity coarse through you, something you had never felt before. Your lips moved in such a synchronized fashion it was crazy to think you had never done this before. You felt as though you’d waited your entire life for this moment.

The kiss lasted a few minutes and when it ended you both panted slightly, trying to grasp at the air that had escaped your lungs. He kept his hand on your cheek, stroking small circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Are you ready to join the sixty six percent club Spencer?” you smirked at him in the dark.

He kissed you again, softly this time, more cautiously.

“I’m quite comfortable in the minority. And I already know I am not going to be able to settle for one night with you.”

Your heart melted at his words, and the loving look he was giving you. You squeezed his hand, kissing him once more.

“If you take me for breakfast in the morning, you can have as many nights as you like.” you winked at him which made him blush a little.

“I’m sure we can arrange that, my love.”

“Thirty four percent it is then.” you laughed, settling your head on Spencer’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your head.

You would have to berate Penelope for not introducing you to Spencer sooner. But you might also need to cut her and Luke some slack, because you had a feeling you and Spencer were going to become an awful, cutesy couple just like them. But when it was happening to you, you didn’t mind so much. Maybe you’d even let Spencer call you bunny…

...On second thoughts, maybe not. Somethings would never change. You’d leave the cringey nicknames to Penelope and Luke. At least for now anyway. Tomorrow was another day.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #cmbingo21 #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #penelope garcia #luke alvez #emily prentiss #tara lewis #jennifer jareau #david rossi #matt simmons #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you

477 notes · View notes

lindsayrises · 3 years ago

Text

A bunch of complaining. Feel free to scroll past.

am.

so.

fucking.

tired.

end of the school year (4 more days). assessment time. report card time. it’s fucking ridiculous how many tests FIRST GRADERS have to take. It’s so fucked up. do i procrastinate? yes. so is some of this (below) an issue i created for myself? yes...but only some of it.

Last thursday night (ok, I guess Friday morning): up until 2:30 (working/cleaning my house).

Friday: work. home. pack. drive halfway to st. louis.

Saturday: drive the rest of the way to st. louis. family time. lunch. visiting my brother’s family’s future home. high school graduation.

Sunday: drive back to lincoln.

Monday: i think i got to work around 6 or 6:30 a.m. I think I left around 8 p.m. i brought work home with me and worked until 1:30 a.m.

Tuesday: work from maybe 7:00-5:00, run errands, do a journaling “thing” (workshop? i don’t know what to call it). go to sleep at 8:30 p.m.

Wednesday: it’s worth mentioning that i cannot keep the days straight this week. like, at all. i have to consciously think about what day it is. ok. yesterday: work from 6 or 6:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. Take work home. work until 4 fucking o’clock this morning. sometimes i wake up at 4:00 a.m. I was hesitant to go to sleep because i was afraid i’d oversleep.

today: work 7:30-4:30. therapy. run to two stores (to buy items to reward students who are doing a good job. AKA buying shit to fill up my god damned prize box to bribe my students. desperate times....). i actually planned on going back to work on report cards. instead, i went back to work just to pick stuff up to work on them at home.

Food today

breakfast: 1/4 of a plain bagel.

lunch: 10-ish doritos

dinner (at fucking 8:45 p.m.): taco salad and chips and salsa.

that’s it. that’s all i’ve eaten today.

we have four days of school left.

i’m having all sorts of mixed emotions about not coming back next year.

there is so much that needs to be done before 9:00 tomorrow morning. report cards are due at 4:00 tomorrow afternoon. I have NEVER submitted my report cards late. It might happen tomorrow. it’ll take a miracle to get everything done.

One of my students will be gone the last three days of school (next week). i planned on having a lot of things to send home with him. but i haven’t had a chance to put things together. I better make a list so I don’t forget.

I have very little left to give.

4 more days.

so now it’s approximately 9:45. I’m going to sleep for a few hours and then get up really early (3:00?) to get shit done.

i haven’t even begun to work on packing/moving my stuff out of my classroom. that’ll have to wait until next week.

14 notes · View notes

displacedentities · 4 years ago

Text

Night Out

My quickfic for @doodledrawsthings Coffee Shop AU! In truth I had this in the books for months and just never got around to finish it ;u; Unfortunately only the muse can decide when it’s time to slap me with enough serotonin to work on this, so I rode the high from recent art and wrapped it up! It’s not as clean as I wanted, but you know what, have it anyway.

-Myst -----

Finally. Another shift in the books.

With a heavy sigh, Luka stretches his back as the clock chimes up on the wall over the glass doors. Deft fingers untie the back before he slips the fabric apron over his head. A light snap of magnets punctuates the white noise of steaming coffee machines, and Luka stuffs his nametag into his pants pocket.

Luka was embarrassed to think about how much of a struggle it was to steady on for the entirety of the workday. Stress ate at him all the time, over so many things. Harriet was priority number one - did he remember to prep her meals for the day? Was she still ok, back in the apartment? Was Professor Popcorn in need of more repairs? Luka would happily handle such a task, of course, but...

He wasn't guaranteed to have thumbs when the evening finally came. There was his time limit to think about.

"Hey Luka?"

Damn, but being cursed was such a pain. Chopping vegetables was a particular bane of his existence. How could he trust himself with a knife like that? Ugh. He hated to make Harriet do it - no child should be wielding a knife before the age of 13, for any reason. He'd just have to MacGyver a solution or something.

"Luka..."

And on top of that, he had the upcoming bills to fret over. Rent was due in a few days, and he'd made a decent amount in tips, but they could not afford to have their upstairs neighbor burst a pipe again. He and Harriet had spent the entire afternoon toweling up their poor carpets to avoid getting mildew. Or worse, bugs. Luka was a fan of bugs, but not in his carpets, or sneaking into the mattress where they could bite his daughter.

"HEY!"

This time, the voice manages to pierce the haze of worry writhing in Luka's brain. Jolting to attention, the auburn-haired adult turns around, blinking owlishly at his colleague, Clover.

The braided redhead is giving him a wan smile, her brows furrowed in worry as she sets down a large bag of coffee beans under the counter.

"You spaced out again, buddy. Did you hear a word I said?" the barista asks, folding her arms over her stained apron.

"Uhh... you said my name," Luka replied, feeling a bit awkward as he chuckles once. "Sorry, I probably missed anything you might have asked me."

"I was asking if you ever go out."

"Ah- what?"

That was unexpected. Go out?

"You know-" Clover holds up her hands to gesture to the world in general, and beyond the coffee shop doors "-out! Like, with friends or anybody?"

Ah.

Luka laughs once, rubbing a hand on one side of his face.

"You mean since I moved into town? Nah, not really. Me and my daughter have only been here a few months - can't say we made many friends just yet."

Nor was that a risk they could take. Who knows how long they could stay here, before he was inevitably found out? One could argue it was a risk just- doing what he was doing now. Trying to hold a job, staying in an apartment; a semi-permanent living situation. They'd been on the road so long, old habits were quite hard to break. And if he was entirely honest with himself, Luka didn't know yet if he felt safe, even six months past the first day he arrived in the rural town of Subcon.

Clover's frown deepens, her arms dropping back to her sides. Her dropped guard betrays her worry, before she tries to play it off with another lighthearted smile and upbeat words.

"Oh come on, it can't have been that long since you've just done something fun for the sake of it. When was the last time you went out with friends and enjoyed yourself?" she asks.

"Why is this important?" Luka asks, his own guard slowly rising. He didn't quite see where she was going with this, but he wasn't sure he'd like it.

Oops- maybe not the most polite way to phrase that, as he sees an awkward flinch on Clover's face. Quick, recover! Luka chuckles once, also trying to lighten the mood.

"You and MJ never really asked me that kind of stuff before. I thought I was hired to serve coffee, not tea."

"We serve both, ya doofus," Clover smirks, rubbing one of her well-muscled arms with the other in a self-conscious gesture. "You should know that, since you've been working here almost four months now. And uh- well, MJ just kind of noticed you always seem very tired whenever you leave work."

Luka smiles back, but it's forced. Careful. Don't give any hints that it's anything serious. Don't be suspicious.

"Oh, that? I uh- I'm not used to the retail scene. I'll probably adapt to it soon."

Clover doesn't seem convinced. Still, her expression is sympathetic, rather than judgmental or suspicious. She leans her back on the counter, looking over Luka's exhausted demeanor and baggy eyes with a skeptical smile.

"I'm sure you will." She rests her hands on the counter. "In the meantime, you should go out for bowling with me and MJ! We were planning this outing for about a week, and maybe you'd wanna come with?"

Luka stops mid-folding of his apron. He turns toward Clover with surprise.

"Bowling? As in- knocking over pins in an alley, bowling?"

Clover rolls her eyes, amused. "No, as in rolling cereal bowls. Yes, that kind of bowling, Luka. It'll be fun! Eat some cheap pizza, knock over pins, watch the uncanny valley animations on the TV screen, the whole shebang. You up for joining us?"

"I uh- I didn't know there was a bowling alley here?" Luka says, his voice pitching up as he gives a sheepish laugh. "I- I don't know..."

Shit.

He could already feel the first touches of his curse starting to well up. A quick glance to his hands- okay, no purple yet. But it was coming.

Luka tucks his hands behind his back just in case.

"I'm not sure, I have Harriet to worry about..." he fumbles, rushing to think of excuses. It hurts his heart a little when he sees the disappointed expression Clover wears.

"Are you sure?" she asks, her tone gentle. "It'll only be a for a couple of hours - I could ask Cookie next door if she'd be willing to handle your daughter for the night. She's a fantastic sitter, and your daughter would have Mu to play with."

Luka opened his mouth, preparing to turn it down- then closed it again, brows furrowed as he chews over the thought.

Only a few hours... hm. His curse's current time limit was somewhere a little short of eight hours, he was sure. As long as he didn't have to pick up a shift at work, he would have most of his day free to spend out of the motel. An outing to a bowling alley couldn't possibly last eight hours, though he'd... never actually gone bowling before.

"I.... don't know... I've never been bowling, I'll just hold you back-"

"Nonsense," Clover says, waving off his excuse immediately. "MJ and I aren't professionals or anything, Luka - it's just for fun! You've never been?? That means you've gotta try it, at least once. Please?"

...mmh. Luka would be lying if he said he wasn't very tempted. But he had so much to worry about! His daughter, his curse... keeping his job, being able to support the two of them. Not to mention, getting used to his slow camaraderie with Clover and MJ. That sort of outing would throw their friendship into first gear.

"It's ok," Clover interrupts his thoughts, standing back up straight as she grabs a rag and finishes wiping down the counter. "You don't have to come, we just thought... you know, it might be fun. You look like you need some serious time to unwind, dude. All we ever see of you is showing up to work, dealing with customers, then you leave. And hey, if you change your mind, the offer's still open."

Luka curls his fingers, foot tapping the floor in small fidget.

"Well, I'm gonna start closing up the back," Clover says, tossing the rag into a laundry bin next to the employee break room. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Wait!"

Clover stops, turning around with the laundry basket.

"What day were you planning to do it?"

What am I thinking?? I can't go on an outing with them!

Unaware of Luka's silent stresses, Clover beams, her smile lighting up once again.

"Saturday! Would that work for you?"

"Mnhg- maybe?" Luka concedes, forcing his own sheepish smile despite his brain screaming No nO this is a bad idea! His mouth continues to run away from him. "Saturday is my errand day - me and Harriet go out for groceries in the morning, and eat out at whatever lunch restaurant she picks. I wouldn't be open until the evening, and Sunday's game day for me and my daughter."

Bad idea, what are you doing?!

"That's perfect!" Clover says, delighted and still not privy to Luka's inner struggle. "If we close the shop at five, we can drive to the bowling alley around 5:30, play a game or two and eat. Should go until about... eight-ish? How's that sound?"

Say no, say NO!

"Sure, sounds fun."

AGH!

"Great!" Clover says, a skip in her step as she lopes off to the back room with the laundry basket. "I'll text MJ to let him know - he's already gone back to his apartment."

"Yeah, I'll uh- I'll text him too," Luka chuckles, scratching behind his head with one hand- and immediately putting a stop to that action, as he feels the points of sharp claws dig at his scalp. Both arms are dropped and tucked behind his back, a big smile on his face. "Gotta give him the full details and everything, haha..."

"No problem- see you!" Clover bids Luka goodbye, waving one hand as she cheerily hauls the laundry bin off into the back.

"Bye!" Luka says, his voice cracking from nerves.

Oh thank god she's gone.

Luka pulls his hands back out into view, and sees the telltale purple staining begin to creep up his flesh. Peck. It was already starting- Clover left just in time. He could already feel the sharp ends of his canines starting to poke into his bottom lip. He didn't have much left of the day in human form- he had to get home right now.

Snatching up his belongings from his locker, stuffing his work apron inside, Luka loops his bag over his shoulder and leaps over the service counter. He missed the rack of sugar packets this time, thankfully, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor as he bolts out the door. The bell rings as the glass entryway opens and shuts, signaling his departure. Car keys are whipped out of his bag, a slowly deforming finger just managing to push the button to unlock the vehicle as he clambers inside. Just five minutes- he could make five minutes.

The engine of the car roars to life, and Luka zips off out of the employee parking space, trying his best to ignore it as his fingers swell and fuse together, and his eyes reflect golden light in the rear view mirror.

------

MJ's car putters up to outside the bowling alley, fixing his blue-dyed hair with a sigh. Clover, in the passenger seat, drums her hand on the door handle with excitement.

"This is gonna be so much fun," she says, turning to look over her shoulder at the stiff and uncomfortable Luka in the backseat. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Luka- we'll show you the ropes of bowling!"

"Great," the young man says, putting up another shaky smile as his fingers tense around his kneecaps. "Can't wait!"

"That's the spirit," MJ speaks up, giving Luka a quick smile of his own before twisting the key in the ignition. The car's engine dies down, the doors unlocking as MJ shifts the gear into park. "Clover told me you were nervous about hanging out, and that's completely fine by me - if you feel uncomfortable and don't want to stay, just let us know, ok? We'll drive you back to the apartment building, no hesitation."

Luka inhaled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh from the back seat of the car. It felt like his nerves were trying to shake him apart. A glance at his watch-

Was he really going forward with this?

...Yes. He was. As much as Luka worried, Clover had been right. It'd been far too long since he'd taken 'me' time.

Luka puts a hand on the door and pulls the handle, stepping out of the car before he has a chance to psyche himself out.

It's just a couple hours. He still had plenty of time, after his midday outings with Harriet.

Stay calm. You can do this.

The sign above the brick building shines with neon lights, saying 'Pins & Cushions' in bright blue and red. The backdrop is a painting that Luka can swear was painted in the 80s, displaying a bowling ball as it barrels into pins and knocking them askew with a cartoony impact mark.

"Pins & Cushions?" he says aloud, smirking a little bit.

"Kind of silly, right?" MJ speaks up, locking the car behind him with a click. "Sounds more like a sewing parlor than a bowling alley."

"It's because they boasted having cushioned chairs," Clover says, snickering. "You've never been, but most bowling alleys have these awful plastic chairs that hurt to sit on for too long."

"You mean like the chairs in high school?"

Luka's joke earns a quick bark of a laugh from Clover.

"Couched seating areas in a bowling alley was, sadly, a craze that never caught on," MJ says, ascending the concrete steps up to the building. "But this one did, and the place is like forty years old and too stubborn to change, so your butt will thank you later."

When the doors open, Luka is immediately washed with a cocktail of smells he didn't think could- nor should- ever go together. First and foremost is the thick smell of plastic and rubber, followed by the chemical odor of cleaning sprays, and the sizzling smell of burning cheese. Air conditioning blasts them from above as the three young adults enter the bowling alley, the doors sliding shut behind their backs. The sounds hit next - a cacophonous mix of rubber soles squeaking on polished floors, heavy objects falling and rolling, and the clatter of pins falling into the trap at the far end of the establishment.

It was loud, smelled strange, and the carpet looked lifted straight out of an arcade.

Luka was torn between anxiety, and a strange sort of excitement he hadn't felt in a long, long time. This was something new, something unfamiliar- he had hours to enjoy himself, and spend time not worrying about stresses of life. Harriet had a sitter, paid in advance with an alarm for when he would return, and he was out with- friends? Had him accepting this invitation solidified their friendship at this point? ...the thought made a happy butterfly flutter in his stomach.

This would be a great evening, he could feel it.

"Earth to Luka." MJ's amused tone causes Luka to jump. "Something on your mind? You're smiling."

"Oh- uh- nothing," Luka says, scratching behind his head sheepishly. "Just- thanks. For inviting me. I think I really did need this a lot."

"YEAH you do!" Clover thumps him on the back with one hand. "Come on! You have to give your shoes to the clerk so they can give you your bowling shoes."

"Ah, what? I have to take off my shoes on this carpet?" Luka complains, lifting a foot with distaste. "I feel like I'm stepping on twenty-year-old candy."

"It's part of the charm!" Clover sings, already removing one of her sneakers. "It's either this, or slip all over the place on the actual alley floor. You're getting the full bowling experience whether you like it or not, coffee boy."

"Ex-CUSE me!" Luka says with a dramatic gasp, hopping on one foot as he works to remove his own shoes. "I think you will find I'm a coffee man, thank you."

"Coffee twink," Clover counters.

"No, that's MJ."

"HEY! I will call lion's share of the tips for that one," MJ shakes a sneaker at them both in a mock scolding gesture.

"YOU'RE BOTH COFFEE TWINKS," Clover declares to the entire establishment as she fights off her last sneaker, racing for the counter before the others can catch up. "HURRY UP, COFFEE TWINKS, WE NEED TO PICK OUT BOWLING BALLS."

"I have dibs on the galaxy patterned one!" MJ yells after Clover.

Clover gives MJ an evil grin as she takes her bowling shoes and pays the rental fee, tying them before sauntering over to the racks of bowling balls. Her hand hovers over the selection, giving a teasing pause over the bowling ball made with swirled star plastic.

"Don't you dare," MJ hisses from the counter, pointing an accusing finger at Clover as he hands over the money for both his and Luka's rental shoes.

"It's either the tips share, or the bowling ball! You decide!" Clover yells back, drumming her fingers on the coveted starry bowling ball.

"Fiiiiine," MJ says with a dramatic tone, though his smile gives away his mirth. "You know I wasn't going to take the tips anyway, Clo."

"I know~" she says, giggling while she moves on to a different rack of bowling balls. "And you know I wouldn't do that to your poor weak arms, either, Moonie."

Luka finishes tying his rental shoes, thanking MJ before he makes his way down the small stairway to the alleys. It's very bright in this section of the building, with cushioned couches surrounding tables and standing consoles. Metal railings and a chute of some kind were positioned at each alleyway, some with bowling balls sitting idle atop the metal racks.

"So, what now?" Luka asks, the excitement of wading into unknown waters welling in his chest again.

"Pick a bowling ball!" Clover says, gesturing to the racks of heavy plastic spheres. "You'll want a heavy one, but not too heavy for you to lift and throw."

"Go easy on us, Clover." MJ shakes his head as he picks up his favorite starry ball. "Ms. Gun Show and her fourteen-pound bowling ball."

The redhead leans over and scoops up a swirled green bowling ball, hefting it on one arm and pumping it like a weight.

"You might get some guns yourself if you helped me landscape and move sod around my garden, Coffee Twink #1," she says, flexing a bicep.

"I refuse to acknowledge that nickname."

"Sorry, it's our team name now," Clover laughs, "the Coffee Twinks!"

"Hey, I thought our team name was the Comets?!"

"That was before Luka joined the team - now it's a 2-to-1 twink majority, I don't make the rules."

Luka just has his face in his hands, laughing through the whole exchange as he leans on the metal racks.

"You're just as bad as Harriet!" Luka laughs, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with one hand. "I don't even know where she learned that word - Cookie's daughter, probably?"

"Definitely," MJ says with a thousand yard stare, earning more laughter from Luka. "Go pick a bowling ball, I'll get the console up and running for our game."

Wiping tears from his eyes, chuckling under his breath, Luka turns to the racks and peruses the selection. The bowling balls come in all colors - most are black or dark brown, but there's a rather delightful mix of brighter hues like pink, blue and yellow. Some are marbled, some have glitter in the plastic, and a few very beat-up bowling balls have graphics of cartoon characters that were popular in the 90s. Well-loved by the children who patronize this establishment, he was sure. Harriet would love the Scooby-Doo ball - oh no wait. The one themed after a Pokeball, for sure was her poison of choice. And clearly the pick of the litter for many other children, as it was covered in scratches and dents from decades of use.

Ah- there was one themed after a jack-o-lantern! How fitting. He loops his fingers into the grip holes of the bowling ball, and heaves it off of the rack- only to almost crush his toes as the weight yanks his arms to the floor.

That was- heavier than expected!

"Oooooh, nice pick," Clover says, spinning her own bowling ball in her hands. "You sure you can carry it, though? That's a 10-pounder."

"I'll be fine-" Luka says, grunting as he lifts it back up with both hands this time. "Just- caught me off guard, is all."

"Alright, game's all set," MJ announces from the console.

Above their heads, a large tube television flashes blue before displaying a score board.

A loud k-chunk k-chunk k-chunk of machinery draws Luka's eye toward the other end of the alley. Metal rigging and machinery descend from the covered roof of the pin trap. Resembling a large soda crate, the rig drops an array of ten white bowling pins, before unclamping and ascending back into the darkness of whatever creation of god resided in that ceiling.

"You're up first, Clo," MJ says, waving a hand to indicate she should move forward.

"Watch and learn," Clover throws Luka a smile, the competitive taunt dampened by her genuinely helpful tone. "You want to throw the ball so it rolls like this-"

Stepping forward onto the squeaky, smooth polished wooden platform, Clover lifts her bowling ball to her chest. With a quick inhale, she lopes forward two steps, swinging her arm back with the bowling ball, before reeling it forward on the last stride and underhand throwing it into the aisle. The heavy green bowling ball lands with a tHDD before skidding its way down the oiled track, rolling in a long, smooth line. The swirled green sphere smacks into the bowling pins with a loud tHWAKK!!, sending all but one of the pins flying into the darkness beyond. The ball disappears into the hole, and Clover puts her hands on her hips with a huff.

"Damn, almost got a strike." Clover snaps her fingers, shrugging. The green bowling ball clatters back up the chute. She grips her fingers into the trio of holes again, and goes for another throw.

The bowling ball rolls down the course, straight as an arrow for the last pin. The pin spins off the wooden platform into the darkness, earning a whoop from Clover.

"Nice, got a spare!" Clover declares, throwing her arms up in triumph. She sashays her way back to the couches. "Who's up next?"

"I'm up," MJ says, standing from the console. Looping his fingers into his own starry bowling ball, MJ rolls his shoulders and steps up onto the oiled wooden planks. "I'm going to get the first strike of the day, just wait."

"Sure you will," Clover snickers as MJ winds up.

When he releases the ball, it rolls at very high speed- before curving halfway down the track, the topspin he put on the ball causing it veer off course and land in the gutter.

Face flushed, MJ coughs into his hand, suddenly very invested in fixing his shirt as Clover grins. The galaxy ball returns to the trough, and MJ pointedly picks it up again, winding up for his second throw. The bowling ball rocks down the course, and knocks over about six pins, leaving a corner of the triangle still standing.

"Woo!" Clover cheers, clapping as MJ returns to the seating. She reaches over and nudges Luka on the shoulder. "You're up, Luke! Show us whatchu got!"

Heart in his throat, Luka stands from his seat and steps up.

The bowling ball grins up at him, daring him to chicken out. It was heavy in his hand. Still, he walked up onto the polished floor, feeling the rubber on the bottom of his shoes as it grips the oiled surface.

Fighting the weight of the heavy bowling ball, Luka takes a step forward, swinging his arm back before bringing it back around like a pendulum. The ball hits the track with a heavy thDD as it’s released, sent rolling off down the track. Around the halfway point, it spins off course and lands in the gutter with a clunk.

“Aww,” Clover says, leaning over the chair cushion. “And you had such good posture, too.”

“It’s ok,” MJ speaks up, seeing Luka’s visible embarrassment. “It’s your first time bowling! Nothing to be ashamed of. You have another shot before we rotate players.”

Disappointed, Luka rubs at his arm. Well, that was a less than encouraging performance. But he noticed the angle of the spin on the ball. Maybe he could fix that.

The ball clatters up the chute back into the return trough. Luka picks it up with a huff of breath, holding it to his chest as he does mental calculations. If he turned his wrist at just the right point...

Stepping forward, Luka swings back and releases the ball, putting a top spin on the ball at the last possible moment-

The jack-o-lantern face rockets down the alley, the path straight until the very last second. It curves to hit the front pin from the side, knocking every single pin into the abyss beyond.

"OHHHHH!" Clover and MJ exclaim, clapping with enthusiasm as Luka looks stunned.

"You got a strike!" Clover says, applauding with a big grin. "You were totally pulling our legs about being a newbie to this, huh??"

"I think I just got lucky," Luka tries to play it off, feeling an uncommon shyness as he smiles.

Clover shakes her head, not having it.

"Luck nothing! That was pure talent, and you got a strike, dude!"

"Technically that was a spare, but still a strike in my book," MJ says as he rotates the turn order on the console, giving Luka a smile and a thumbs up.

"Oh let him have it, Moon Moon," Clover laughs as MJ throws her a pout. "Our new boy's got game!"

Luka hunches his shoulders, an awkward smile curling across his cheeks as he walks back over to the couches. Clover jumps to attention and makes her way to the track, picking up her green bowling ball for another round as he sits down.

This was... much more fun than he had expected it to be. The background noise of the bowling alley was surprisingly pleasant. He found he could get used to the dull odor of plastic and cleaner- and honestly, that hot cheese smell from what must be the pizzeria was tempting his stomach. But best of all was the camaraderie he could feel sparking between him, Clover, and MJ. Were they officially friends now? Or had they been already, and he was just- in denial? If Luka was entirely honest with himself, probably the latter. MJ and Clover had been nothing but kind and understanding, to him. His sporadic hours and excuses had done nothing to faze them with regards to their treatment of him at work. They still offered him drinks and invited him on this outing, offering even to pay for his expenses, didn't they?

"Hey Luka!" A call from MJ breaks him out of the small reverie. "You're up, again."

"And after this round, we can hit the arcade! I bet I can out-dance you on DDR, Coffee Twinks," Clover smirks.

"No betting. I know you can."

Maybe- maybe he had nothing to worry about.

---

The evening is going fantastic.

The first bowling game had been a pretty close match between Luka and Clover. Clover had the arm strength to pull off some mean and fast throws, but Luka had developed a system. Figuring out how to spin the bowling ball just the right amount had made up for his noodle arms and less weighty bowling ball. It wasn't long before he figured out how to roll a pretty straight record of spares and strikes, with the occasional 7-10 split. After bowling around, they went into the arcade section, with an entire paper roll of quarters to blow on games. A vicious Ms. Pacman multiplayer match had led to MJ smoking all three of them, and as predicted, Clover out-danced both of the boys on the DDR and Stepmania machines. Luka had to collapse over a nearby chair with exhaustion after his matches. He'd finished off the arcade run with a very lucky pull from a claw machine, winning a black cat plush with big yellow eyes that he was definitely going to enjoy giving to Harriet.

The three of them sat around their table at the bowling console again, laughing over a hot cheese and pepperoni pizza.

"No way, you didn't!" Luka gasps, wheezing for air.

"I did! I punched his goddamn lights out!" Clover laughs, slapping one knee. "The guy was being a huge creep, so I introduced him to my fist."

"I hope you didn't get in trouble with the cops or something for that." Luka tilts his head, giving her an impressed and worried look.

"Can't get in trouble if nobody reports it," MJ chimes in, smirking past his soda cup. "He complained to me, but I had the security tapes AND plausible deniability because I wasn't on the floor. Corporate took our side on this."

"Nobody from the city wants to drive all the way out to podunk Subcon for a random dudebro's complaint." Clover sits back on her cushioned seat, chomping into her pizza happily. "Mmmmm- delicious melty cheese."

Luka chomps into his own pizza, exhaling and blowing on it as it nearly burns his mouth.

"Easy, tiger!" MJ smirks around his own mouthful of pizza.

"I know, it's just so good," Luka says, laughing into his hand as he sips some of his cola. "But in like- the way you know it's not that great? Does that make sense?"

"Night in the Woods taught me the Pizza Scale, and I stick by that," Clover says, crunching through her crust to grab up another slice, washing down the bread with some soda. When she reaches for another piece of the pie, she pauses, and lets out a huff. "Oh, that sucks. I guess they didn't clean the bowling balls that well this time. Gross."

"Hm?" Luka says through a mouthful of pizza.

"Your fingers are all oil-stained from the finger holes on the bowling ball, Luka. Big Al needs to wash the bowling balls properly."

Confused, the law student shifts his attention down.

The ends of his fingertips are discolored with ebony purple.

Luka can feel as his brain zeroes in on the first sign of his impending transformation, and begins to shift into emergency mode as it relays the steps he must take in order to avoid further exposure. He'd gone over this information with himself many times over the past five years. It was ingrained in his mind, what he had to do, the information practically screaming at him. But he can't hear it. His ears are filled with buzzing as reality breaks into the facade he'd slowly built up over the course of hours.

No-

No no no-

His pizza slice drops to the paper plate as he fumbles with his bag, pulling out the cell phone from the liner pocket. Shaking fingers tap the screen with frantic speed, trying to turn the damn thing on-

9:17?

They'd been here nearly four hours?!

He'd spent the morning out with Harriet, doing their grocery shopping and walking around the town's outdoor mall as much needed father-daughter time. Eight hours of being in disguise had long since passed.

His time limit was up.

This couldn't be happening. Yet the numbers stare back at him from the glare of his cell phone screen. They even have the nerve to tick over to 9:18 right before his eyes.

This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening! It wasn't fair!

"Luka, you ok? You're turning pale..."

Clover's question just barely manages to pierce the haze, causing Luka to jolt in his seat. Posture stiff and breath shallow, he lifts his head to meet Clover's questioning eyes. She's staring at him with building concern, her smile becoming a frown of worry.

The tension is palpable in the air as Luka struggles to find words. Finally, he manages to say something.

"It's- it's a quarter past nine-"

"Oh shoot-" Clover says, sitting up abruptly as she grabs her own phone.

MJ checks his watch, wincing. "Oof. Sorry, Luka. I guess we lost track of time passing. I'll apologize to Cookie for the overtime, we can finish this round and go-"

"Don't feel good- going to the bathroom-" Luka wheezes, scrambling to his feet as he scoops all of his belongings into his bag and races past MJ's seat.

"Luka!" Clover yells after him, her heightened concern audible in her voice. "Ok, we'll- we'll start cleaning up! Let us know if you need-!"

Her words are cut off by the slam of the bathroom door. Luka's bowling shoes slip over the slick tile floor, his hands gripping onto the cold porcelain of the bathroom sink to steady himself. He brings his shaking hands up to view in the mirror. The blackening purple skin was spreading up his finger joints, reaching his palms.

No- not now! Why now?

Luka clenches his fists and his jaw, focusing every ounce of his will on making the purple go away. He can almost feel a vein pop on his forehead- if he still had veins, anymore- as he strains to make his unwilling body follow his desires. The purple starts to recede at a caterpillar crawl... but it slows. And the harder he tries, the more he can feel his arms struggle to hold their shape - becoming less solid.

"No- no!" he whimpers, clenching his hands into the sink again. The action splatters small droplets of purple sludge against the porcelain, which vanish moments later as the purple staining once more consumes his fingers - and now his palms. "Stop it! Just- let me be human! Please!"

He lifts his head to the mirror. Despair fills his gut as he sees amber eyes staring back at him in the reflection, and the beginnings of an inner glow fighting to come out from the back of his throat.

Luka lets out a wordless sound of sorrow, lifting an arm to pound one fist against the mirror in vain. The reflection is unfazed in its destitution, tears beginning to gather at the edges of its eyes and mouth set into a sob of clenched teeth. The reflection's canine's lengthen several inches as the eyes stare back, accusingly. The purple was starting to spread up its neck, just poking out the collar of the shirt.

"No..."

This wasn't him. But it had been, years ago. This was SUPPOSED to be him.

He curls his fist, watching as the fingers start losing their shape. Fusing together, becoming single digits and his thumbs vanish back into the purple sludge of the limb.

"I was finally-..." Luka whimpers, "...I finally felt human again."

-bang bang bang-

The sound of a fist knocking on the bathroom door causes Luka to yelp and jump back from the mirror.

"Luka? You ok in there?"

It was MJ.

Peck!

Grabbing his bag, Luka books it into the furthest stall of the bathroom. He slams the metal door behind him, fumbling to lock it with his swelling mitten fingers. Alarm shot through his gut as his shirt felt tight around his torso. Already?? This was faster than usual! Had he really pushed it that much?

"Hey man, are you sick? Clover and I are really concerned. Do you need any help in there?"

"NO! NO I'M GOOD!" Luka yells from the bathroom stall, clapping a two-fingered hand over his mouth as he hears the slight reverb echo to his own voice. Dammit! "I'M JUST- I'LL BE FINE!"

He was not fine, he would most certainly not be fine!

"Luka, you sound croaky." It was Clover this time, probably a short distance behind MJ. "Dude, are you sure? MJ, maybe you should go in and check on him-"

"NO!"

No, the reverb was stronger!

"Luka, I'm coming in."

"MJ it's fine!"

Luka could hear the seams of his shirt starting to stretch and strain. The seconds were ticking by as strings started to pop at the neck.

Shit, shit!

Luka turned left and right, the stall cramped and uncomfortable as the ruff of fur around his neck thickens and threatens to burst his shirt open. He needed a way out!

Aha! A small window, to the outside! Wow, that was probably the worst location for a window. And it was so small-

The door creaked as MJ started to turn the handle.

NO TIME!

Luka makes a dive for the window. His fingers catch on the sill, and he hauls his body up onto the tiny ledge, his head pushing up the glass and emerging out into the open air. Squeezing through the narrow space, he struggles to pull his feet through, kicking off the bowling shoes and hearing them clatter to the tiles below.

The door comes unlatched, and MJ enters the bathroom, looking around with a frown.

Luka was gone. And for some reason, his bowling shoes were abandoned on the questionably cleaned bathroom floor.

Just outside the window, tucked next to the wall of the alleyway outside the bowling alley, Luka is panting with adrenaline. He can feel his chest expand further with each breath, the fur mane around his neck already splitting apart his shirt. His fingers had fully lost their human shape by now, coalescing back into the familiar mitts he hated so much. A reminder that, no, he wasn't human. No matter what those people in the bowling alley thought of him, and what he thought of them in return... no matter how much he wanted to be human, again.

"Luka?"

His entire torso now fully drenched in purple, Luka hangs his head, listening as he fights to strip off the shirt suffocating him.

Footsteps, in the bathroom.

"...Luka? What the-... Clover, he's not here?"

"What?? But he- went into the bathroom! He was just-!"

"His shoes are here..."

"His shoes??"

Luka forces himself to stand, wobbling a bit further away from the window as he focuses all of his efforts on keeping his legs. He can't lose his ability to walk, not in the middle of town!

God dammit... god dammit! Why couldn't he just enjoy his night? Now he was wandering alleyways, half transformed, and MJ and Clover were no doubt worried to hell and back. What could he even say? 'Sorry, had to take a break to wolf out in the bathroom'?

-brrring brrring-

The buzz of the phone in his pants pocket- which was getting tight against his waist, he noticed. Luka quickly extracts the phone before it can be damaged by the fabric.

MJ's caller ID stares back at him from the screen.

The decision to trust these two with his information was biting him in his rapidly purpling behind. He'd been so careful not to slip up, and the ONE TIME he makes a mistake... He had another decision to make. He could not respond, and just be a complete asshole, but he could protect his secret a little safer, for just a little bit longer. Or he could pick up, and... he didn't know. Bullshit something? Would they even believe whatever malarkey he could cook up in seven seconds for bailing out of a bowling alley restroom? God, he was terrible at improvised excuses! He was a lawyer, not an actor! But if he answered the phone call, maybe- maybe he could hold on to that feeling again. The warmth of companionship of peers his age, that he hadn't felt since law school. Since... Vanessa. But he couldn't think about her right now. What mattered was his safety- his daughter's safety.

Peck. He didn't even think about that part. Could he really rip Harriet out of a somewhat stable home life, again? She was just starting to get along with Cookie's daughter, and he didn't want to take that precious first friendship from her.

Luka was only pulled out of the downward spiral by the vibration of the phone, which he only now realized had registered a missed call, and was now on the second call. It was still MJ, the picture of him in his Horizon employee cap still smiling from the bright phone screen.

He had to do something. He could feel his legs protest the form they was struggling to hold.

Survival instinct set in. First, he had to get away from the scene.

Stumbling to his malforming feet, Luka jogs away from the alley, ducking away from the Pins & Cushions and avoiding the bright neon sign on the side of the building.

As he walks, a headache hits, and Luka just knows his face was losing more of his familiar features. Didn't need a mirror to know that he was definitely the shade of a bruised plum, and that his eyes were glowing like gold beacons. The sharp teeth at the edges of his mouth were digging into his bottom lip as he dodges and weaves to avoid line of sight from storefront apartment windows.

The woods were so close by, just a few more blocks.

Faster. He had to run faster. But his legs- were fighting him! Already he could feel his steps become lighter, movement more fluid. It was a struggle to keep a walking stride, rather than just- leap into the air. No way was he going to fly a block from pecking main street.

His phone continues to vibrate, threatening the call to drop.

Right when he reaches the sidewalk, Luka pants for breath, collapsing beside the pole for a street lamp while avoiding the amber spotlight. Taking one last rueful look at his phone, he sighs, and presses the answer button with a doughy purple finger.

"Luka?" MJ's voice patches through. The reception isn't great, but it's sufficient. Maybe that was a lucky break, considering what his voice was going to sound like in a second.

"Hey," Luka answers. Yep. He sounded like a toad that swallowed a brass tube. "Sorry- about that."

"Dude, are you ok?? Where did you go?" MJ spoke so quickly it almost interrupted Luka, concern clear and evident in his voice. "You ran or something and- you left your shoes at the counter, and the cat plush for your daughter. Clover got them for you-"

"It's ok," Luka says, wincing. "I can pick them up tomorrow. I- don't feel well, and I have to go get Harriet."

"Luka, we could have driven you home for that," MJ responds, a hint of hurt and confusion. "You know you can tell us if you're uncomfortable, and want to leave, right?"

"No- this- I was having fun," Luka responds, cupping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle the echo. He had to wrap this up. His voice was getting less natural by the second. He really hoped the poor reception would mask it. "Look- I'm sorry MJ. But I really had to go."

"You're not getting kidnapped or something are you?" Clover's distant voice suddenly patches through in the phone. MJ must have his phone on speaker. "Because if you are, I'll hunt them down! Just yell where the car is taking you!"

"I'm not- look, I'm sorry, but I just had to go, ok?" Luka says. "Harriet needs me."

"I thought you were feeling sick?" Clover says, her worried tone now tinted with... suspicion. "You ran to the bathroom, and we were all worried about you, dude." Her voice becomes just a bit distant, as she turns to speak to MJ, but the phone picks it up. “Actually, did we ever hear anything from Cookie...?”

"No- I am-" Luka can feel his lies crumbling, nearly becoming true as he experiences a sensation similar to his stomach heaving from the anxiety. "Thanks for the wonderful evening, I'll pick up my stuff later- bye!"

"Wait-!!"

-click-

MJ's protest is cut off, and Luka set the phone down on the grass, putting his head in the other hand. That was terrible. But he couldn't back out on it now. He would just have to deal with the consequences of that phone call tomorrow.

Not like having shoes or not bothered him, anyway.

Exhausted and resigned, Luka slides away from the lamp post into the chaparral, and begins rapidly pulling his shirt over his head. No way was he going to lose another shirt, not after the last one. This was his last nice shirt, and he intended to keep it as long as possible!

A quiet gasp jolts him out of his frantic folding.

Luka whips around, shirtless, half de-pantsed, and his body a full shade of deep shadow purple. His golden eyes glow in the reflected street light as he freezes on the spot, making eye contact with another human being across the road. It was the stocky mustachioed man from the coffee shop- the regular who came by and sketched quietly in a corner. Pinstriped suit- which seemed to be the only outfit anyone ever saw him wore- an apron, and grey khaki pants. The thick glasses would make it difficult to tell where he was looking, if the man wasn't standing with his square jaw hanging down at his chest, head angled directly toward Luka. Everyone dismissed him as a paranoiac, a hermit who stopped by for his morning caffeine fix and quiet atmosphere to indulge in his imagination. Rumors flew that he used to work for some sort of tabloid magazine, and was fired- or promoted?- for how crazy his stories were.

Whatever the reason, this man was now standing, groceries dropped to the pavement, and staring at Luka. A very half-naked, absolutely not human-looking Luka.

Face suddenly burning hot with embarrassment and fear, Luka grabs his belt loops and bolts into the trees.

The movement causes the man to only gape more, making a wordless noise of astonishment before the forest breaks their line of sight and Luka retreats into the safety of the woods. Luka just barely remembers to grab his shirt and belt from the bushes. Vanishing entirely from sight, stumbling over debris as his transformation takes full hold of his body, Luka wheezes as his heart beats in his chest. After all that, he was seen! Peck! Did he just ruin everything because he wasn’t paying attention? But- but it was just the local hermit, the resident conspiracy nut. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? This wasn’t as catastrophic as being spotted by a teen with a cell phone open. Surely, this was the safest possible person in town to accidentally spot him mid-transformation. Repercussions would be minimal.

Thank god the man didn't have a camera.

#Coffee Shop Au #AHIT #A Hat In Time #doodledrawsthings #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Moonjumper #Clover #noticed a couple mistakes and it's too late to fix em wHOOPS #OH WELL

342 notes · View notes

cosmicfireheart · 3 years ago

Text

Poisoned Appletini

Yandere! Eddie Longo

Ship: Yan!Eddie Longo x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, adultered drink, stalking, yandere-ish behavior

Requested by: @tomriddlessecretvampiredemigod

Don’t be out alone at night.

Be vigilant at all times.

And never accept any free drink that wasn’t sealed.

Those were three rules (out of many) to survive life as a woman. Three rules your parents, authorities, and society in general had told you over and over again until it was engraved in your brain.

And yet you forgot to put the words into action.

To be fair, you had had a very stressful couple of weeks beforehand, having to wake up extra early every morning to get ready for an awful day surrounded by people you didn’t like telling you how to do your job.

So, in the midst of all that havoc you found a little routine that made life just a tiny bit more bearable.

Every Monday and every Friday at precisely 9:00pm you’d stop by that club everyone you knew kept talking about, you’d order an Old Fashioned and look closely as it was being made while talking about nothing with that cute bartender whose shift you apparently always seemed to catch.

Those talks usually consisted on nothing of real importance, making fun of people who seemed to be way too drunk, creating interesting stories about strangers the other picked, and what you had considered harmless flirting.

It was anything but harmless.

This Friday had been way too chaotic to put much mind on anything else, you had gone with your usual routine until it seemingly out of nowhere became too much. You couldn’t even glance at your coworkers without feeling the urge to yell at every single one of them.

Your boss was no exception, and when that jerk started yelling at you instead for arriving a minute late after lunch you just couldn’t take it anymore, wouldn’t take it anymore. Honestly, if you tried recalling that moment you’d most likely see something similar to an out of body experience.

The way you almost weren’t in control when your arm threw your water at your boss, and then how your lips moved almost out of your control telling him where he could stick his stupid minute. And then a silent ride to the club in which you were now drinking your usual.

Eddie listened to your every word as you recounted your day, his eyebrows going up and down as your story progressed, every time more and more engrossed in the sound of your voice, his whole body leaning ever so slightly in your direction from the other side of the counter.

As you finished he had drummed his fingers against the polished wood and smiled “You know what this means, right?” He had the widest smile.

His excitement made you laugh

“What?” You asked fully leaning in the counter

He turned around and kept moving around under your curious glance, blocking your view of whatever he was doing, dodging your every question with soft laughter and a couple “you just wait”

And then he placed a green drink in front of you.

It looked and smelt pretty good, you realized. It even had a slice of fruit decorating it, you rose a brow at him.

“It’s a special Appletini, on the house” he explained “A congratulations on starting your new life” he added with a strange smile, one you mistakenly thought nothing of as you began downing the liquid.

It almost tasted like apple, there was something else in there though, something that made everything bitter-y but since you’d never had one before you just figured that was how it was supposed to be.

A couple seconds later you began feeling dizzy, it must’ve been a strong drink, stronger than anything you were used to, you tried to look at Eddie and ask for water, but your head was just too heavy, and so was the rest of your body, it made you stumble out of the stool you had been sitting on.

“You okay?” His question only dimly registered in your brain, but you managed to shake your head regardless.

He wasted on time on getting to your side, his hands taking a hold of both your arms as he directed you outside “I’m taking you home” was all he’d say, and you tried to reply, you really did try to tell him that you’d never told him where you lived, he must’ve been confusing you with someone else.

You can’t remember much more afterwards, only waking up with a pounding head and Eddie offering you water. You tried to scream but your body was too weak to do anything but drink water and stay in bed for the next couple of days, he didn’t even bother tying you up knowing how it would take you a while to take full autonomy of your body.

The second you heard his car taking off you’d try to move some and some more, at first your body had been too heavy, then too weak or clumsy, but sooner than he had expected you were able to move, still putting on a facade of a slow healing in front of him.

And then, one night after he’d left you got up as fast as you could and bolted to the door, which of course was locked, then you looked at a couple of windows until you found one whose lock was so old and worn out even you in your weakened state could break.

You jumped before taking a good measured look outside and began trying to run, but he had been heading back, unfortunately for you he had forgotten his wallet, and he caught you exactly like a deer on the headlights.

Your legs were much too weak to run faster than him, and in no time he had you back in the house that looked even weaker than you.

He wasn’t yelling though, not even raising his voice, but he had you wrapped so tightly in his arms it was hurting you as you tried to squirm away. Something you had noticed about him is that he rarely got mad at you, not being able to talk the last couple of days he had gone on and on about the beautiful life the two of you would share.

Making comments about whether or not he wanted children and deciding it would be up to you, but you only wanted to yell at his face and maybe spit in his direction and then run the other way.

But now he was silent, he’d never been this silent before, he let you loose momentarily as he turned around to lock the door and you tried to hit him square in the chest, I say try because it ended up being more of a slap than anything, but it took his attention back to you regardless, his eyes clouded and his breath going in and out in puffs.

The sight made you shiver and your instincts forced you to run the other way, but he grabbed your arm and twisted it in a very painful angle behind you as he forced you to walk to the bedroom he had had you imprisoned in.

“You are not leaving me” he said only once, twisting it even further with every poisoned word.

You were crying out of an ungodly combination of fear and pain “You’re hurting me!” You cried

He spun you around and forced your back against the wall getting close inside your personal space “You hurt me first” he declared with his whole face going red “pulling out of nowhere that running away shit! What the hell were you thinking! Fuck!” Every word he said made him angrier “After everything I’ve done for you?”

“You kidnapped me!” He slapped you as soon as the words left your mouth, and then he forced you to face him with a steel grip on your chin.

“I saved you!” Was his only reply “And you are never leaving me”

#tell me a story #Eddie Longo x reader #paul wesley #paul wesley x reader #yandere paul wesley #yandere eddie longo

62 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Omg can you write about coops going live on instagram and answering TONS of fans questions? And just being domestic and cute together in general

I can, yes! This is partially the 450 celebration--to the lovely person who suggested writing a sequel to one of my favorites, please know that I love and appreciate you! Coop credit goes to @lumosinlove

Check out Part 1 here

“Is it working? I think it’s working.” An explosion of hearts covered the screen and Remus’ eyebrows rose. “Yep, definitely working. Hello, Instagram! I’m Remus Lupin, winger for the Lions.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, center and team captain.” Sirius waved at the phone. “We had a great time answering your questions last month and we figured we’d come back to do it again, since there were so many people we couldn’t get around to in those few minutes.”

“I can already see a bunch coming in. Should we start?” Remus asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“You go first.”

“Alright, first question….” He squinted at the screen. “How long have we been together? We’ve been dating for just over a year now, but we’ve known each other for three-ish.”

Sirius snorted when he read the next question. “What do we do in our free time? It’s cute that you think we have free time. Um, we read a lot. Sometimes I’ll play video games with the guys.”

“If we have a free weekend, we’ll go hiking or take a short road trip. Practice takes up four or five hours a day, so we’re very low-key, which I think surprises people.” Remus scrolled down a bit. “What are our favorite foods?”

“Don’t say it.” Sirius said immediately. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine, fine.” Just as Sirius began to answer, he coughed, “pineapple pizza.”

“No!” Sirius smacked Remus on the arm with a pillow as he laughed. “Menace. My favorite food is pasta, because it’s versatile and I’m not a heathen. All of you who are agreeing with him, stop it right now. I’m very disappointed in your tastebuds. Next question…do either of us cook? We do, yeah.”

Remus gave him a look. “Do you, though?”

“That’s a funny thing to hear coming from the man who said he’d die for one of my grilled cheeses yesterday,” Sirius countered.

“Fair point. Yes, we both cook, but I generally do it more often because I enjoy it.”

Sirius looked back at the camera with sad eyes. “He kicked me out of the kitchen last week.”

“You kept stealing bites of soup!” Remus laughed. “It wasn’t even done, you could have gotten salmonella!”

“You can’t get salmonella from soup,” Sirius scoffed. The comment section went wild. “…apparently you can. Huh.”

“Next question, before we get too off-track. Who is the more dramatic one?” Remus folded his hands and rested his chin on top. “I’m giving you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re plenty dramatic.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Moving on! Oooo, this one is for me specifically.” He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist as he read. “Sirius: does Regulus—you spelled that wrong by the way, there’s only one ‘g’—does Regulus still live with you? If yes, how does that work?”

“I’m telling him someone spelled his name wrong,” Remus said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“He’ll be so pissed,” Sirius agreed. “Nope, Reg moved out a few months ago and now lives with Pascal Dumais, but it was really neat to have him around. He’s still got a room here and it was nice spending so much time with him after we didn’t talk for a while. He’s awful about vacuuming, though.”

“Aw, people think that’s cute.” Remus smiled as he read the responses. “Ohoho, people are getting nosy. What do we argue about the most?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe chores?”

“I was going to say practice time. We’ve gotten into a couple tiffs about watching tape or running drills after we get home.”

“That’s true.” Sirius frowned at the screen. “For those of you who apparently think that’s all one-sided: it’s really not.”

“He came downstairs to get me at ten or eleven at night the other day. We’re both hockey nerds, so it happens from time to time.”

“Are we going to keep doing tiktoks? Oh, for sure, they’re a ton of fun.”

“Absolutely. Where else am I going to get the inspiration to glue things shut just to irritate him?”

Sirius shook his head with a smile. “Diablotin.”

“Nothing like being called a gremlin by your fiancé,” Remus laughed, tapping the screen. “Okay…who’s the best in bed?”

“I’d say we both sleep really well,” Sirius said. “You talk sometimes, which is really funny.”

Remus glanced over. “Do I really?”

“Yep. I think you were grocery shopping the other night. You kept saying orange juice very adamantly.”

“Interesting. I agree, though, we both value sleep.”

“There are too many questions!” Sirius scooted forward and sifted through them. “To jay-mac 2001, we both love kids and might have some in a few years. No, mermaid queen, we don’t really have friends outside of hockey because we don’t have lives outside of hockey—” Remus leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder as he laughed. “—but I’m sure that will change someday. Oh, here’s a fun one: what are our love languages?”

“Our what?”

“Love languages. Like the Buzzfeed quiz Pots made us take last week.” The screen lit up and Sirius looked offended. “Of course we know what Buzzfeed is! We’re 25, you fuckers!”

“I think mine was quality time.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ arm further around his shoulders and leaned into his side with a smile. “It’s physical affection,” he singsonged, making him laugh. “Your turn.”

“Have you finally found your song?” Remus read aloud. “I think so! We did an interview a while back and there was a question about our ‘couple song’, which we didn’t have at the time.”

“That didn’t answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry. It’s La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf.”

Sirius read the next question and snorted. “This is convenient. Who swears more?”

Remus looked away. “It’s, uh, a tie.”

“That’s such a lie.”

He sighed. “It’s probably me.”

“You taught a literal baby to swear.” Sirius turned back to the camera with a wicked grin. “Harry’s first word was ‘Loops’, but his second was ‘shit’ and there’s an eighty percent chance he learned it from Re.”

“Changing the subject!” Remus cleared his throat, then smiled. “Aw, I like this one. What’s the compliment you get most often from your partner?”

“Does it have to be verbal?”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Not like that! Oh, fuck, I did not mean that! You always touch my hair, so I figured that was a compliment. Merde.”

Remus shook his head. “We need a supervisor again. Anyways, you talk about my freckles all the time and it’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sap.”

“Yeah.” Sirius kissed his cheek. “What’s the best date I’ve ever been on? We went ice skating at the local rink a few weeks ago and it was so much fun. I had never done that before.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I thought for sure you would say the aquarium.”

“The aqu—oh, right! With the jellyfish arch!”

“Yeah!”

“Now it’s a tie, I can’t decide.”

“That’s fair. From spaceman93: who tops? We actually don’t have a bunk bed, though that would be cool as hell! Do you think Ikea sells them?”

“We should check.”

The screen exploded into activity again and Remus did a double-take. “Yes, we do buy our furniture from Ikea, there’s no need to sound so shocked. This person—I can’t read your username, sorry—wants to know which of us is more cuddly.”

“Definitely me,” Sirius said.

“For sure. I like cuddling people, but only a select few. I mean, I’m assuming you guys saw the Cap cuddles slideshow at our last game.” He laughed when Sirius turned pink. “Why are you embarrassed? It was cute!”

“There’s a hashtag now!” Sirius complained. “I have a reputation.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly as Sirius looked for the next question. “Ha! Do we ever get jealous?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons people might think.”

Sirius laughed quietly. “We went out to a bar for Kasey’s birthday a month or so ago—”

“Oh, please no.”

“—and a young lady was hitting on me, not taking the hint—”

“Jesus.”

“—so Re comes out of nowhere and kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone.” He snickered and Remus hid his face in his hands. “It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Really funny looking back, though. Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Who is clumsier? Ooh, we’re both disasters off the ice. I tripped over the carpet about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ve run into every doorframe in this house at least twice.” Sirius grimaced. “If I could just tape my skates to my feet and always be on ice, that would be much safer.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “I dunno, it would be hard to sleep in them.”

“I do that all that time.”

“That’s true, you take a nap in the hall at least once a week in full gear.”

“Reverse Edward Scissorhands.” They had to take a moment to stop laughing before Sirius turned back to the phone. “Mon dieu. Alright, what do we have next…when did you know I was ‘the one’? When did you know, mon amour?”

“Breaking out the nicknames, very snazzy,” Remus teased as he rested his chin on his hand. “I think it was just an accumulation of things, and then one day I went ‘oh shit’ and just knew. Sometime around New Year’s, maybe?”

“You only made it two months?” Sirius teased, nudging him lightly.

“Shush, you.” Remus nudged him back. “I knew I wanted to propose when I came home from hanging out with Leo and you were napping with the dog. You had done the dishes and left Avatar on so we could watch it together, and I opened the door and knew that I wanted that moment forever.”

Sirius smile was unbearably soft, and he kissed Remus on the cheek as hearts filled the comments section. “I’ve never seen so many keysmashes in my life,” he laughed when he looked back to it. “Hey, someone addressed one to you specifically.”

“Really?” He leaned forward eagerly. “To Remus, do you feel like part of the team yet? I do, a hundred percent! It helped that I was close with a lot of the guys from being the PT, so those friendships carried over really well. Being a player on the roster has only made that better and it’s the best job in the world.”

“Who has the better smile? We’re going to say each other, so I think we’ll leave that one to the comments—fuck, that was a bad idea, it’s moving too fast for me to read!” Sirius tapped the screen desperately, then gave up and waited for the scrolling to slow down. “Ask each other one question you’ve always wanted to know the answer to.”

“Do you actually want to get your ears pierced?” Remus asked. “You talked about it a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you were kidding.”

Sirius thought for a minute, biting his lip. “Y’know, I might. It was one of those things where it started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it. I’m not sure, hockey’s not the best sport to have things that can catch and tear.” They both winced at the idea. “My turn. What is it about pineapple pizza that you actually enjoy?”

“It annoys you.” Remus laughed as Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I honestly don’t know why I like it so much. There’s something about the sweetness that goes so well with the regular pizza taste. Okay, last question for me: how many freckles do I have? Not many right now.”

“So many in the summer,” Sirius said dreamily. “That’s the best part of summertime and the only reason I like Florida. They might have bouncy ice, but it’s worth it to see the freckles pop.”

“Whew, Florida’s getting mad in the comments!” Remus grinned. “Get some real ice, then come talk to us.”

“Final question, then we really have to go. What does your partner look best in?” Sirius drummed his fingers on his knees. “His jersey. Or my jersey. He does own a pair of skinny jeans, though, and that was the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”

“They’re comfortable.” Remus shrugged, but he looked rather self-satisfied. “That’s all we have time for, folks, but thanks for joining us!”

“Go Lions!”

287 notes · View notes

xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

Text

acquainted | four

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 4.2k

warnings: implied sexual content, your friends are still extra, cussing / mature language, relationship issues, angst, making out, slight dry humping, you actually act on your hoe-ish thoughts because seokjinnie keeps testing you??

notes: 2nd member involved in this love triangle will be revealed next chapter and it’s actually gonna start getting messy. are you with me? 😈

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish @photographic-girl (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

A couple of days have passed and you were only getting more giddy as time passes. It sounds stupid as hell, and sometimes you can't help but curse yourself for having a crush on someone so unattainable. The thrill, though, is what excites you, and knowing that there's a possibility Jin may reciprocate the same feelings. Since he had placed his number in your phone, he had sent you random, occasional 'have a good day!' texts and smiley faces. Maybe it didn't help that he was only fueling the fire by sending you texts like this. You couldn't help but ponder on the thought that you had crossed his mind from time to time, and that my friends, was fucking attractive.

"Her head game was on point." Taehyung smirked and leaned back in his chair, making Ryujin roll her eyes at him.

"You're sick, no one asked about your night."

"Why do you sound so mad, sweetie?" He leaned closer to her.

"I'm not mad." She scooted her chair away from him. "Can you believe this right now?" She shot you a look, but you were too busy texting on your phone, responding to the messages you couldn't get to earlier.

[jin] 3:05pm: I hope your day has been treating you well. See you soon?

[y/n] 5:37pm: Been a little busy, but hasn't been bad. :) Excited for class!

You laughed at yourself because who even says 'Excited for class' like that? You were really playing yourself right now.

"Earth to Mr. Kim's mistress?" You shot Taehyung a look and immediately shoved his face away.

"Jeez, you've been glued to your phone so much lately. Did you find new dick, or something?" Ryujin asked as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand.

"No, god. I've just been trying to keep myself occupied." She shrugs and doesn't press any further. Thank god, because you hadn't told any of your friends how Jin comforted you that evening and how he had given you his personal number just to check in every now and then. You didn't plan on telling them anytime soon, only because they'd be dramatic about it and you didn't have the energy to calm the chaos that would ensue.

"Speaking of - have you guys started the assignment due next week for Mr. Kim's class?" Jimin kept his eyes on the work in front of him.

"No. I'll probably do that the day of." Taehyung says as he texts on his phone.

"I was going to ask him for help later."

"Were you now?" Jimin rose his eyebrow, shooting you a look.

"Yes, and it's only because I can't choose which topic to write about."

"Why don't you ask us?"

"Because this always ends up being an open-ended debate and the conversation ultimately ends with no decision made." Jimin nodded in agreement.

"Touché."

"Bat your eyelashes while you're at it, kay?" Ryujin giggles.

"You guys are free to join me."

"Mmm no thanks, I don't think I need any help right now." Jimin responds.

"Same. Besides, I'd rather not cockblock."

"Honestly so sick of you guys." You all end up packing your things to head to Jin's classroom, all four of you entering one by one and taking your seats near the front. Class goes by rather quickly, you and Jin stealing glances from time to time. Ryujin, Jimin and Taehyung offer to wait up for you near the library and you simply nod, letting them know you'll only take a quick minute to talk about the assignment. Once they've disappeared from the hallway corridor, you turn on your heels to make your way over to Jin at the front desk, where he's arranging his things and getting them together.

"Y/N, hey." He smiles at you, tilting his head to look at you from his stance. "What's up?"

"I uh, just wanted to ask for your opinion about the assignment. If.. you aren't busy?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not at all. What's going on?"

"Well, I've just been having trouble deciding on a topic." You placed your things down.

"Alright, try me." He nods towards the whiteboard, signaling for you to scribble your ideas onto the board so he could help you map out your thoughts. You quietly walk over, grabbing the only black whiteboard marker available and start talking through your thoughts. He sits on the desk, arms crossed, watching you scribble on the board. He chimes in every now and then, either agreeing or disagreeing, and providing his honest opinion as to what might work best for the assignment.

"Mm, okay. I think that makes better sense." You step back and take a look at the things you've crossed out and circled, leaving you to finalize the topic for your assignment.

"Yeah, I think so." He stands and nods in agreement. You turn to look at him, only to realize how close in proximity your body was to his. His hands are tucked into his pockets while he looks down at you. Both of you don't move, regardless of how close you two are at the moment. You feel stuck, and the only option that crosses your mind is something you shouldn't even be thinking about. Yet, you still act on it. You find yourself on your tippy-toes laying a kiss on his plump lips, but you quickly pull away and gasp, realizing what you had done.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-" You stutter as you step back to try and quickly grab your things. "I gotta go." You dash out of the room, your heart beating through your chest. As soon as you were far as possible from his room, you slowed your pace to gather your breathing. You facepalmed so hard because what the fuck! You felt dumb as hell for acting the way you did, let alone for thinking his texts and all the attention even meant anything.

Way to fucking go, Y/N. You could feel how embarrassing next class will be already.

As soon as you spot your friends, you try to put on a smile and brush the thoughts out of your head when you see them waving you over. Jimin instantly throws his arm around your shoulder, helping you feel at ease as you momentarily forget about the events that just transpired.

"Ready? We're gonna go grab some pizza before heading home." You smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm down."

Jin grabbed his things, feeling a little conflicted about what just happened. He knew this was something that shouldn't have happened, nor should it ever happen again. Yet, he wanted more of this feeling you gave him. He longed for it. He couldn't explain the feeling he got when he felt your lips against his, he just knew he was interested in more. It was bad as fuck, but it was the same thrill you felt that peeked his interest.

Jin pulled into the lot of him and Grace's house, seeing he was the first one home yet again. It wasn't a surprise to him anymore, and quite frankly, he was used to being home first all the time. It would have been a surprise if Grace was here before he was. Not gonna lie, after what happened, it makes him feel a little empty inside. He's starting to feel like he wanted more of you and to see you outside of campus grounds. He wanted your company and enjoyed your presence, inside of the classroom and even through simple things like text. It just made him happy, and like he was appreciated. Wanted.

Yeah, that quick. He was starting to crave you.

He kicked off his shoes by the door and changed into comfier clothes. He took some time to work out at their home gym before eating whatever leftovers were left in the fridge. He happily warms up his food and quickly gobbles it up, leaving the dishes in the sink for him to get to later. He hops into a hot, relaxing shower, letting the heat hit his back and relax him from all the stress he had been experiencing lately. It was so relaxing that he didn't even hear Grace shut their front door. He only found out he wasn't alone when he heard dishes being washed and slammed onto the dish rack and cabinet doors being slammed shut. He dried himself off a bit, before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading into the kitchen to see what the commotion was.

"Hey, you're home." He says with a smile on his face, but she continued to place dishes on the rack without looking at him.

"Yeah, and you couldn't even think to wash your dishes and clean up the kitchen?" His smile immediately turned into a frown when he realized Grace was far from being in a good mood. Over what? Dishes that he was eventually going to wash anyways?

"I was going to get to them."

"Jeez, Jin. I've had such a long day, the least you could do is help out and clean up after yourself." She glared at him.

"Woah, hey. I do my part around here. Just because I didn't do my dishes right away doesn't mean I don't do anything at all under this house."

"Hasn't seemed like it." She walked away, brushing him off completely. If it's one thing Jin could point out about his fiancé, it was the fact that she liked to project when she was upset. It was the one thing that drove him crazy, and the one thing he felt like couldn't be fixed. It was just in her nature, no matter how many times they've fought and argued about it. He tries to be patient and understanding. He tries to relate. Yes, I'm sorry you had a bad day. But just because you had a bad day, doesn't mean you bring the negative energy into this house.

"That's not fair, Grace."

"Grow up, Jin." She snapped as she headed upstairs. "I'm going up to pack and head to bed." He continued to watch her, appalled at the attitude she was throwing tonight. He really couldn't understand why this was happening over some dishes. He didn't wanna be here right now, and he wasn't going to deal with this shit. To be honest, he was feeling a little relieved knowing he'd get some space from her when she flies to New York for a week. She had some work to do for the opening of her restaurant down there, plus some related projects for her book.

He heads upstairs to throw on some jeans, a hoodie and a hat before passing Grace in their walk-in closet.

"Off for a drive again, huh?" She says as she keeps her eyes on the luggage laid out in front of her. It's sad that Grace knows what Jin does whenever he doesn't wanna deal with her attitude. But, no matter how many times he's tried to communicate and talk it out, it never mattered to her.

"Yeah, because it doesn't seem like you can communicate properly tonight."

"And how is a drive supposed to help?" She turns to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. She scoffs before returning her attention back to the clothes she was packing into her luggage. "Perfect. Run away from our issues, Jin. It's what you do best." He shook his head and sighed.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight, Grace. Not over some dishes that were eventually going to get washed and fixed." He walked out, but turned back on his heel to finish off his thoughts. "You know, I really wanted to have a nice night with you. Pop some wine and put on a movie, just to enjoy being in each other's presence since it feels like we haven't done that in a really long time. But, so be it." He threw his hands up in defeat and continued to walk out. He really did want to try, though. Part of him felt like he needed to because he was probably just longing for that attention from his fiancé, which is why he had been feeling the way he had been about you. Maybe it would have helped him brush it off like it was a silly, little crush. However, tonight just amplified those feelings he had for you and he wanted nothing more but to just see you and hear your voice.

He lowers the brim of his cap as he walks to his car, instantly starting it up and driving off. At first, he was conflicted. He wasn't sure if he was making the right decision or not, or if his judgment was cloudy. But something in him tweaked and made him say, fuck it. He was tired, and for once, he just wanted to feel wanted.

You sat on your living room floor, putting together a vision board for yourself. A ton of magazine cut outs and printouts laid alongside of you, waiting to be organized onto the small white board. You had been rearranging the layout for quite some time, feeling a little frustrated at the perfectionist in you. This definitely could have been quicker if you hadn't picked at the fine details too much. It was nearing 10:30pm; after you and your friends had ate pizza together, you all went your separate ways, tired from this week's events already. You especially didn't want to linger around, the thought of you kissing Jin in the classroom still haunting you. You felt your phone vibrating off to the side, signaling a call coming in.

Speak of the devil.

You hesitate, afraid that this had to do with what happened earlier and to be frank, you weren't sure if you were ready to deal with the repercussions just yet. The call ends, but a text notification pops up at the top of your screen.

[jin] 10:27pm: Are you free right now?

[y/n] 10:28pm: Sorry, yeah I am. What's up?

[jin] 10:29pm: Can we meet up?

You stare at your phone, unsure if you should take the opportunity to see him. It could mean a lot of things, or it could mean nothing. It could be about the kiss, or it couldn't be. But, you can't help but feel a little guilty that he had been there for you when you needed someone and here you were, contemplating if you should blow him off.

[y/n] 10:32pm: Sure. Is everything okay?

[jin] 10:32pm: I think, kind of just need some good company.

[y/n] 10:33pm: Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll come. Just let me know where.

You watch as he drops his location into the message, and it's not too far from where you live. You actually are quite familiar with the area to know that he's sending you up to a view that overlooks the Bay Bridge. You and your friends used to go there often during undergrad, just to eat edibles and eat hella junk food. Those were the days. You all quickly outgrew it though.

The drive up is a little scary, with only a few street lights posted as you drive up the hill. You catch a glimpse of Jin's car, being that he's already leaning against it, facing the view. You pull up into the empty spot next it, taking a deep breath and recollecting your thoughts before stepping out. Whatever it is, just be honest. That kiss was because you wanted to kiss him, but perhaps you misread the vibe about everything.

Not perhaps. You for sure misread the vibe about everything. He's fucking engaged. There was no way.

"I brought you brownie." Is the first thing you say as you hand him a ziploc with a huge brownie square. "There's no weed in it or anything, I promise it's clean." He chuckles as he takes it from you. "I just figured you could use a picker upper since you seemed like you might've need it."

"Thank you." His trunk had been open, so he takes a seat and invites you to sit next to him. You leave a bit of space just to be sure, since you already crossed your boundaries earlier and you weren't even sure how that was gonna play in to tonight.

"So, what's on your mind?" You dread asking him the question but you knew there was a reason he brought you out here.

"I, uh. Just had a pretty tough day and wanted to surround myself around good company." He turned to look at you.

"Oh, so I made the good company list?" You chuckle.

"Yeah, you did." He looks back out at the view. You examine him, his body language still a little tense from whatever he had just experienced.

"Was it Grace?" You ask softly and he nods in return.

"We've just been having issues. It's no biggie."

"No biggie, huh? Then why are we out here looking at the bay bridge?" He chuckles again. You think it's cute the way his dimples under his eyes pop out when he smiles and laughs.

"Touché. I mean, what if I just wanted to hang out with someone who could cheer me up?"

"Wow, then that's a lot of pressure on me." You laugh. "I can already tell something's wrong. You were there for me, so I just want you to know that I'm all ears." He sighed.

"It's kind of dumb? Maybe not? Me and Grace just haven't been the same for awhile now."

"How so?"

"We're just distant. We haven't done things together like we used to because we're both busy and so wrapped up with work."

"Jin." You smile shyly because this couldn't be a serious excuse. You always need to try and make things work! "You know being busy shouldn't be an excuse, right?"

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, it's difficult to explain. I question if we're still in love with each other or if we're just sticking to this because we're comfortable."

"Deep down, I know you still love and care for her."

"I do. It's been hard to show that these past months. I guess.. what I'm trying to say is that it's been easy to focus more on the negatives than the positives. There have been more negatives than positives."

"Why don't you sit her down and talk about this?"

"I can't. I try, but I really can't. She's always coming home in a nasty mood all the time."

"Well, she might have a lot to balance on her plate. Not everyone approaches things the same way and if you know Grace easily shuts people out when she's overwhelmed or stressed, then I think you just need to continue supporting her by simply being there for her."

"I know." He looks down at his hands.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking. I hear you loud and clear though." He smiles at you toothlessly.

"Try talking to her. Work it out. I know she's important to you."

"She is but," He shakes his head once more. "I can't shake off this feeling."

"What feeling?"

"It's going to sound stupid."

"Nothing is ever stupid." He simply looked at you before responding.

"Earlier, in the classroom—" Fuck, you thought. You thought you had just gotten lucky tonight and that you both had put it past you so that you could move on without ever mentioning it. But half of you knew you'd still have to confront your mistake either way. Nothing was ever that easy.

"Jin, I'm so sorry, I didn't think about—"

"I didn't want you to stop." He spits out, causing you to stop mid-sentence. Your eyes widened after you had just registered what he had said. Was he fucking playing with you right now? This shit really couldn't be real.

"W-what?"

"I can't shake off this feeling because of you and as bad as it sounds, I really don't want that to go away."

"Jin." You say softly. "You should really work this out with Grace. This feeling is just temporary and you know it is because she's your fiancé. What happened earlier was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened." It kind of sucks, but it's true. You don't really know why you did what you did and what you wanted out of it. You knew what this would entail and it would be too messy. People would just end up getting hurt left and right. It would be a domino effect.

"Was it though?"

"I'm not trying to get in between you two." You beat around the bush with your response.

"Then, what did you want out of that earlier?" He stares at you. You can't help but feel yourself melt at the way he's eyeing you and the way he's actually teasing the fuck out of you with his piercing eyes.

"I don't know." He continues to stare, but this time his face is edging closer to yours.

"You can't even tell me straight up that it was nothing." He says, almost at a whisper. Your knees are starting to buckle beneath you and although you knew you needed to stop this, you couldn't see yourself doing it right at this moment.

"We shouldn't be doing this." You whisper, his lips inches away from yours at this point.

"Then why aren't you stopping me, Y/N?" No response. Before you knew it, your eyes were shut as your lips pressed against his. The feeling of his lips sent chills down your spine, his hand now tugging you closer to his body. You waste no time straddling his lap, deepening the kiss as your hands rest on his face and your hips grind against his. God, he was so fucking attractive and everything about him drove your ass crazy. You wanted him.

But you couldn't have him.

"Stop, stop." You edged your head back, reality settling in once his hands start to dip inside your sweats. "We really shouldn't be doing this." You climb off of him and gather your things.

"Y/N, wait."

"Jin." You turn to look at him. "Listen to me. We would never work."

"I wouldn't say never—"

"Look, this is already difficult as is and I'm trying really hard not to make this even more complicated for anyone. At the end of the day, you're still with Grace. You're still engaged to Grace." You emphasized. "I can't get in between you two, and I don't want to hurt her." How in the fuck did things escalate so quickly? How did we get here?

"I know that, and I know you don't. But you can't tell me that you didn't feel anything just now."

"I'm not saying that I didn't. I did, I-I do." You stuttered on your own words. "But I shouldn't be acting on it and neither should you. You should really focus on working things out in your relationship. I know deep down you love her and want to make this work."

"That's the thing, Y/N. I don't know how else I can make this work with her. I've ran out of options."

"Jin, you planned to marry her! You do understand that you can't just give up on someone like that, especially your future wife."

"As much as I appreciate this and understand where you're coming from, you don't know our relationship."

"I just don't want you to give up on her. I want you to try for her, not just because I told you so." He can see how serious things have turned, and he knew you were right. This would be complicated. But damn, was he undeniably attracted to you and he loved the feeling he got from all of this.

"I-" He sighs. "You make me feel things that I haven't felt in a long time."

"You have your life planned out already, and so does Grace. You obviously saw a life and a future with her, and that's what you should continue building. I don't even know how to get from point A to point B in life and I still have shit to learn. Like-like changing car lights or how to do a fucking oil change by myself! I'm a mess. I'm not the one you should be thinking about."

"I don't care about that." He spits out as he gently grabs your wrist and turns you to face him.

"Don't make this harder than it already is." With all this shit going on, you still found yourself wanting him the same way you did earlier. Looking at him made you want to do unspeakable things and it didn't help that he gave you the green light to do so.

The temptations.

"I'm not trying to."

"We should really keep our distance from each other, okay? You need to work things out and I'm going to give you the space to do so."

"Fuck, Y/N. I really don't want that."

"I'm sorry." You whisper as you break free from his grip and get back into your car. You hear him groan, causing you to cry to yourself as you drive off and get back home. One mistake turned everything upside down, and now everything was suddenly 10x more complicated than it ever was in the beginning. You couldn't help but curse yourself and blame yourself for letting this happen the way it did.

But shit is done. The mistake happened. There was no taking it back.

You just needed to give him space to get over it, and that would be the end of it. Easy.

Or so you assume.

156 notes · View notes

adorethedistance · 4 years ago

Text

British. Handsome. Charming. - Harry Styles x Reader Retail!AU

Sorta requested.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive situations, I say titties like once

Words: 2108

Summary: When your coworker calls out and leaves you alone for a graveyard shift, you unintentionally enlist the help of a certain British, handsome, and charming retail employee from next door.

A/N: Hello this is my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I put my ‘to lovers’ trope as Coworkers Harry and Y/n but I’m kind of riffing off of that trope because I wanted to do employees at different stores in the same section of the mall.

“So, Ziva just called out...” I hear my manager Kelly break the news from behind me. A groan threatens to escape my lungs but I fight the urge as best as possible to save face in front of customers. This is the third time Ziva’s called out of her graveyard shift in the past two weeks. Tonight, we were supposed to unpack the new shipment of holiday tees, gag gifts, and decorations. On a normal night, I can handle floor set by myself, but the added challenge of holiday items and displays is a different story.

“If I take another lunch right now, I can stay and help with the floor set.”

“No,” I wave her off, already dreading the exhaustion that is bound to set in, “Go home. You’ve already done your full eight, I can fly solo for tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go before I regret letting you!” Kelly smiles with the tip of her tongue peaking through her teeth. She thanks me for freeing her and I finish straightening the last of the yellow champion hoodies on the rack in front of me.

“The boxes are on the left side in the backroom.” Backroom… got it.

Working at Tilly’s was supposed to be my high school job. At the end of Junior year, I opted for a minimum wage position to earn some extra spending money. If I’d known I would be attending the most local university in this godforsaken town, I would’ve picked a better gig; one that pays more. Or at least one that doesn’t schedule me from 7:30PM to 3AM.

The store closes at ten but the other four ish hours are for rearranging the entire floor layout. I have to redistribute the table full of graphic tees strategically around the store to make room for the holiday items we just received. With someone else’s help I could expect to be finished by 12:30. Maybe 1. Ziva calling out wasn’t part of the plan however, so I don’t expect to be finished early at all. If anything, I might have to rush to finish before my shift ends.

Not to mention I have a prose analysis final draft due tomorrow by midnight. Ziva better have some damn good excuses when she gets back.

Readjusting the waistband of my favorite jeans against my body, I head to the dressing rooms to double check for any stragglers. Upon finding myself alone, I go lock the front doors and flick off the glowing “open” sign in the front window. Hopefully time will fly faster than it has since I got here. I should’ve asked Kelly to grab me a coffee or a coke to get me through the rest of the shift. Maybe I should do some coke to get me through the rest of the shift.

Okay. What did Kelly say?

Backroom... Was that all? I hesitantly prop the storeroom’s door with the small, tan, rubber wedge before trying to take in the overwhelming mess of the backroom. The room has painfully bright overhead LED lights illuminating my path; the brightness is mirrored off the polished concrete floors under my feet. Considering there’s no holiday bullshit directly in front of me, Kelly must have given me more directions than just ‘backroom’. Graphic tees, sunglasses, jewelry. Nothing.

In my most goddamn genius idea yet, I search the top of the self of the storeroom to see the holiday boxes sealed and intact. Lovely. I can graze the surface of the top shelf with my fingertips just enough to get them dusty, but not enough to pull down any boxes.

Fuck.

This is what we have a ladder for, but we lent it out to the Zara next door. I don’t know what time they close but intuition tells me it's soon. Figuring I have nothing to lose, I dash out of the back room and unlock the front door to round the corner into Zara. Right as I exit the store, I run into someone hard enough to lose my balance, but not hard enough to take the other person down, thank god.

“Woahhh, you alright there?” British.

I look up to the face of the person I collided with. Handsome.

“I’m so sorry, I need to get to Zara.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late for that.” The handsome stranger’s statement catches me off guard and the fog of my rushed mindset disappears. Charming.

“What?”

“Jus’ locked up, I’m afraid.” I look at the completely dark storefront, and then back at the stranger. His gleaming green eyes catch mine and, cliché-ly, I’m rendered breathless by the exquisite nature of his face. Employee.

“You work at Zara,” I state dumbly.

“That, I do. And you work…?” Dropping my eyes to my worn work shoes, I’m suddenly overwhelmingly shy about working at Tilly’s.

“Tilly’s, next door. We lent you guys our step ladder and I need it back.”

“Shit,” the man smiles softly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I have the key to the store, but I don’t have the key to the supply closet where we kept it.”

“Dammit.” When I pull out my phone to check the time, I groan at the loss of another ten minutes. “By any chance do you guys conveniently have a step ladder that isn’t in an inaccessible closet?” The beautiful man laughs at my question and shakes his head no.

“We don’t, but I am pretty tall, maybe I could help?”

“You’re not that tall.”

“Taller than you.” My teasing is cut short by the man’s quip and I lead him into the store with conviction.

“Basically, I’m supposed to reconfigure the entire floor layout around the table for all the holiday merch, and the shipment came in but someone brilliantly placed them on the top shelf of the back room.”

“Which is why you need the step ladder from the closet that I can’t open. Gotcha.”

“If you could just get those three boxes from the top shelf right there that’d be wonderful.” After clocking the boxes in question, he nods wordlessly, and slips off his nice coat, no doubt a piece from the store next door. Underneath, he’s wearing a grey button up of which he begins rolling up the sleeves to. The action made me stop breathing for a second. His forearms are littered with tattoos of various drawings, one in particular catching my eye.

It’s a two dimensional mermaid figure with no seashell-bra, her skin transitioning into scales only after exposing her pubic bone. In the fluorescent lighting of the store, it’s clear as day that this is quite possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. What’s he doing working at an outlet mall?

Zoning back in, I see he’s already hard at work. With a box no doubt full of gag gifts on his shoulder, he speaks again.

“I’m Harry by the way.”

I return the gesture and he smiles when he hears my name.

“Pretty.”

Returning his attention to the second box, he reaches up to slide the box closer to the edge of the shelf. When he does so, the hem of his grey shirt rides up to reveal a tiny strip of his toned abdomen, where two mirrored stems of fern leaves are tattooed in strikingly black ink.

I blink quickly a few times to redirect my focus, and divert my attention to the floor where he’s set the first box. This leads me to notice the brown suede chelsea boots he’s wearing. Black coat, grey shirt, brown shoes. Interesting.

“Oh shit!” I hear him mutter in a hushed voice. Looking up to the top of the shelf, I see that the last box has already been opened. Harry is balancing it between both limbs, his shoulder, and his head, but any movement would cause the contents of the box to fall out.

I rush forward to help. Moving the flaps of the box back over the top, I reach across Harry’s body to move them. Then, to keep them shut I place one palm on top of the seam, and use the other hand to support the bottom of the box. It isn’t until I stop moving that I notice the position I’ve put us in. I’m reaching up as far as I can to secure the top of the box which has placed the entire front side of my body to the back of his. I’m painfully aware of how my hips are pressed against his ass, and he must be painfully aware of the way my titties are pressed against his upper back.

“I’m gonna move backwards so it’s off the shelf. Just hold the top in place until I have it right side up again, yea?” I nod dumbly in response before realizing he can’t see me.

“Yeah, got it.” And with that he begins to back up little by little, moving at a pace slow enough for me to consistently adjust. The box is almost intact, but I’ve run out of space from standing behind Harry, and I have to maneuver myself around him whilst keeping the box shut. I cringe before doing what I have to do, and shuffling around the side of Harry’s body, my frontside pressed against him the entire time.

Finally, it’s over and we can set the box down on top of the other two. Harry stands up straight again and dusts off his hands. He adjusts his jeans, pulling them back up his hips, and I have to keep myself from staring once more.

“Anythin’ else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so? That’s pretty much all the heavy lifting I have to do tonight.” He nods understandingly and… dare I say disappointed? I’m probably just projecting.

“Are you alone tonight?”

“Yeah, my coworker called out, but it’s fine. My boss Kelly got most of the work done earlier when she unpacked a lot of the boxes and folded the shirts into piles, so…”

“I could help.”

“You don’t need to do that. You’re already off and I’m sure you’re exhausted and-”

“I want to.” I guess I wasn’t projecting.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. That way you can go home earlier.” His smile is soft and lopsided until we connect eyes, in which case it brightens to reveal his pearly teeth. I fall shy under his gaze and avert my eyes to the concrete floor below us. My cheeks are radiating at about 1000° and I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” I say, more flustered than I would have liked. Why am I getting so nervous? He’s just a retail employee at Zara.

A gorgeous employee at Zara.

“I don’t mind staying back... Spending more time with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Since I already know what you do for a living, what are your hobbies?” He ignores my question.

“I don’t have much time for hobbies. I’m only part-time while I’m in uni.”

“No way, what are you studying?”

I proceed to tell Harry all about my major and my career aspirations post-graduation and post-retail. I enjoy telling people about my dreams and yet, Harry’s the first person I’ve met in a long time that’s shown any interest in me and my dreams. The way he nods attentively despite having to fold misconstrued t-shirts and holiday sweaters, ignites a fire in my stomach that warms my heart. They way he asks hyper specific, prompting questions to learn more about my plans contrasts the fire inside me by sending chills down my spine.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are your dreams?” Harry stops folding for a moment and exhales a conflicted sigh.

“I’m not too sure at the moment. I’m content at Zara for the moment, and I haven’t decided what’s next. I do write music though.”

“You do?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“What kind of music?” He stops to think again, a bit less conflicted than before.

“It’s like, indie-folk-pop-rock ish.”

“Indie-folk-pop-rock ish?” I can’t contain the laughter spilling from my lips over the mountain of folded t-shirts.

“Yeah. A good bit of variety, really.”

“Well, it’s nice you have something to be passionate about.”

“Judging by how you talked about your dreams for an hour, I wouldn’t say I’m as passionate as you are about your studies.”

“Passion isn’t a competition. It’s what moves you forward as an individual.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh at me.

“Okay, Gandhi.”

“Hush! I’m allowed to be philosophical.” His laugh draws into a closed-mouth smile, from humor to an adoration of sorts.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I unintentionally mirror his affectionate smile.

“Promise?”

***

A/N: This was absolutely one of those fics that, the longer I stared at it, the more I hated it and cut it down so here’s what’s remaining before I destroyed the whole thing. It’s def a puff piece and not an in depth fic but nuance is not my friend right now so, sorry about it :(

Taglist: @curlybrownhairedboys @meetmeinfleetwood

#Harry #Harry Styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles fic #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles imagine #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles one shot #Harry Styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #Harry Styles fluff #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles smut

189 notes · View notes

kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years ago

Text

Baby Bird

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: i kinda had this idea for a warren x reader and if you were intrested or had time i’d be very appreciative 👉👈. (warren has his apocalypse wings) so the reader is a new student she’s very like shy and timid but very sweet and her only friend is jean, she just like refuses to converse with others. and her gift is her wings and they’re exactly like warren’s except black (kinda like he was the bad boy with white angel wings and she’s the good girl with black wings,sorry i love opposites 😂) and be just hates her because it’s a reminder of his old wings and mistakes. fast forward to like a day at school or party someone is messing with r because she never shows off her wings and then like push her or something and jean freaks out and tells warren r doesn’t know how to use her wings (super sad childhood with very anti-mutant parents) so then warren saves her and they talk more and get closer.

A/N: this is so late! I am so sorry! But I am finally getting around to all my requests and this wasn’t in my ask box so it got kind of lost and I forgot about it for a hot minute! I hope you enjoy it though! 🥺💛

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: underage drinking, teasing, anxiety, and mentions of poor home life

“Your grades are phenomenal, yet your class participation is lacking.” (Y/N) picked at her nails, looking down. Xavier called her into his office to “discuss her grades” but she knew that was the last thing on his mind. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with, but at some point, everyone has to socialize.”

Her head shot up, “I do! I do socialize.”

Sure, she ate lunch alone under the trees, would rather be alone than have a partner for class projects, and she didn’t have many friends— but she was new! Being the new kid was hard. Not to mention her parents were more than thrilled to get rid of her and her wings.

Her big, black, feathery wings, that she didn’t even know how to use! She hid them under baggy sweaters, no matter the weather.

Xavier gave her a look, “You don’t have any friends and you hide your beautiful wings.”

“Dr. McCoy and Mystique hide their true selves… and if Kurt had the chance he’d want to look normal too.” Charles sighed. “Look, um, Professor, I do— I do have friends.”

“Who?”

“Jean Grey.”

Saying Jean was her friend wasn’t a lie— however, Jean was her only friend. (Y/N) didn’t like to talk, and Jean read minds— easy friendship right there.

Jean had other friends and even a boyfriend. (Y/N) felt like she weighed her down or was charity work, but Jean always said otherwise.

Sometimes (Y/N) would sit with Jean and her friends. They were all kind and welcoming, despite her not saying anything. The only one who seemed standoff-ish was Warren.

Warren was tall and extremely handsome. Jean had teased (Y/N) for losing her train of thought more than once for looking at Warren and thinking he was pretty.

He had these huge metal wings and tattoos on his face. (Y/N) thought they could possibly be friends, mostly because they both had wings, but that didn’t go so well…

—

The one day (Y/N) wore a t-shirt, with holes in the back so she could flaunt her wings, everyone looked at her. She didn’t like the attention, but she couldn’t blame them for staring.

Jean’s friends showered her with a mixture of surprise and compliments with her wings.

“Can I touch them?” Peter asked. (Y/N) nodded, making eye contact with Warren for a moment.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. (Y/N) quickly looked away and frowned. Everyone liked her except for Warren.

Was he the honest one of the group though? What if all of Jean’s friends actually hated (Y/N)? What if they just put up with her because Jean made them? She was sure Scott didn’t like her much either, even if he never showed it. He was dating Jean and her friendship with (Y/N) probably cut into their time… Oh, God… They just think my wings are neat and soon as I stop showing them they’ll get bored of me…

Warren was glaring at something, and then he got up as left. Just like that!

“Is he okay?” (Y/N) asked Jean.

“He’s just being dumb. You know how boys are.” (Y/N) nodded, but she was pretty sure Warren wasn’t just “being dumb”. He probably hated her.

—

It was finally the weekend, and (Y/N) was hunched over her books on a Friday night. Normal for her, as Jean and her friends usually went out somewhere.

A knock at her door interrupted her work time, and she opened it to find Jean and Jubilee standing in the doorway. Jubilee was bouncing and had a bag in her arms.

(Y/N) let them in. Jubilee set the bag on the floor and started going through it— it was full of makeup and hair stuff. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to a party tonight, and you’re coming with us.”

(Y/N) glanced over to her work pile, “But I’ve got a paper due—”

“Two weeks from now. I have the same class.” Jubilee answered.

“Jean…” She whined.

“One night out won’t kill you. Neither will a little makeup and a cute outfit.”

“What?”

“Here, put this on.”

She examined the lump of fabric in her hands.

It was a dress.

“People will see my wings!”

“Yeah, that’s like the whole point,” Jubilee said.

(Y/N) sighed and slipped off her sweater, putting the dress on in its place.

“You look so pretty!” Jubilee cooed.

“Thanks.” (Y/N)’s immediate reaction was to fold her wings in tightly to her back, so they weren’t visible from the front.

“Relax,” Jean told her, soon as she noticed what (Y/N) was doing. Jubilee signaled her to sit down on the floor next to her, amidst a hundred different makeup products.

“I’m just gonna do some light, subtle makeup. Enough to enhance your features.”

“Thanks?...” The brush tickled (Y/N)’s skin, making her nose scrunch up.

“Relax your face. This doesn’t hurt.”

“Sorry. Sorry…”

“It’s okay.”

—

Everyone somehow managed to fit in one car— except for Kurt and Peter, they were racing to see who could get to the party first— Jean and Scott in the front, Warren, Jubilee, Ororo, and (Y/N) in the back.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but notice Warren looked a little flushed, “Is Warren okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Jean asked.

“His face is flushed. Is he just like, hot or something?”

“Or something…” Jean smiled, trying to act nonchalant. (Y/N) gave her a deadpan look through the rearview mirror. “I can’t tell you, but he’s fine.”

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Scott asked, looking back at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.”

Scott nodded awkwardly.

—

Once parked, everyone quickly tumbled out of the car. Music could be heard from the inside. It was loud.

“I want to go home.”

“(Y/N) we just got here— dance with Jubilee or go sit outside with Ororo and Warren.”

“Warren doesn’t like me.”

“Not true… He’s just quiet.”

(Y/N) started to retaliate but Jean walked into the kitchen with Scott, and (Y/N) tried to not interrupt her time with her boyfriend, so she shut up.

Peter was playing beer pong with some kids. Jubilee and Kurt were dancing and both had cups in their hands. There was some wanna-be punk band playing.

(Y/N) decided to join them.

“Hey, (Y/N)!”

She waved her hand.

“You look nice,” Kurt said.

“Thanks.”

“I did her makeup,” Jubilee bragged.

Kurt giggled slightly, “Nice.”

The band was mostly playing covers, but they were pretty good. (Y/N) was letting loose and dancing along with Jubilee and Kurt.

I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah!

Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit…

I'm traveling at the speed of light.

I wanna make a supersonic woman of you!

(Y/N) accidentally hit Jubilee with her wings. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine! They’re soft anyways.”

Don't stop me, don't stop me, don’t stop me. Hey, hey, hey!

Don't stop me, don't stop me, ooh, ooh, ooh…

(Y/N) was actually enjoying herself. She was dancing and chanting incoherently along with the lyrics. She almost felt free.

The last time she had felt like this was as a child. Before her wings grew in. Before her parents deemed her a monster who had to hide. Before she lost everything she had. Before she decided to speak less was better for her.

She didn’t even think about any of it. She didn’t even think about how Jean was probably making out with Scott in a bathroom, or how Warren had been acting. She was having fun, and that was the only thing that mattered to her.

—

At some point during the night, (Y/N), slightly tipsy, made it up onto the roof with a few other kids. Everything was fine at first, but they were way too drunk.

“Why don’t you jump off the edge?” One of them asked.

“What?”

“Fly off the edge, birdie!” The other laughed. “Jump! Jump!”

“Jump! Jump!”

In the rooftop kids efforts to get (Y/N) to jump, people on the ground started chanting too.

“What’s going on?” Warren asked. Jubilee shrugged.

(Y/N) was terrified, wings folded in tightly to her back.

Jean came running up to Warren, “(Y/N) can’t fly! She can’t hear me either, she’s too nervous, lost in her own thoughts.”

Warren wanted to ask what he could possibly do, but he never got the chance.

(Y/N) fell off the roof.

Or maybe she was pushed off. Either way, it didn’t matter because she was screaming and falling and no one was doing anything.

Warren bolted and flew up so he could catch her in his arms. She looked so weak and tired in his arms. She was crying and his heart dropped seeing her like that.

Warren carefully brought her to the ground, making sure she could walk on her own. “Come here,” He gave her his jacket and wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry into his chest.

“I hated that—” She sniffled, “—I’m never doing it again.” Warren nodded understandingly, holding her close to his side.

“Let’s go home, okay?” (Y/N) nodded, still in a state of shock.

—

The halls of the mansion were like a ghost town, everyone was either out, asleep, or couped up in one of the many rooms. Warren and (Y/N) were alone as they walked up to her room.

“Why did you save me?”

Warren blinked, looking at (Y/N). She rarely spoke to or around him.

“Jean said you couldn’t fly.”

“Oh…” She avoided Warren’s eyes in embarrassment. So Jean told him to save me because I’m useless. Of course…

“You could have died, falling from that high up,” Warren’s voice was stern, but he wasn’t angry.

“Sorry…” She mumbled.

Warren furrowed his brows, “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“I inconvenienced you…”

“What? No!” He stopped to stand face to face, holding one of (Y/N)’s hands. “You could never.”

(Y/N) felt fuzzy inside. Was she getting sick? Was she allergic to Warren? Why is he so nice? Why am I so nervous?

“I’d do the same for anyone.”

Oh. Yeah, no, he doesn’t really like me… nobody does… “Right.”

Warren noticed her mood change, but he didn’t call her out for it.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Thanks for bringing me home…”

“Of course…” He coughed for a moment, clearing his throat. “If you need anything, um, my room isn’t that far—”

“Thanks, Warren.” She forced a smile. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

—

Warren slipped off his t-shirt, discarding it on his desk chair. He laid in bed, thinking about (Y/N).

What if he hadn’t caught her in time?

He shook the thought away as he tossed in bed, slowly falling asleep.

Warren didn’t hate (Y/N). He just hated her wings… they reminded him of his old wings. The one thing he wanted most in life… his new ones were a constant reminder of his past mistakes, they were the wings of a monster.

But Warren had changed, or so he thought. He hated seeing (Y/N)’s wings, despite them rarely being out. He was jealous and angry. Mostly at himself.

But (Y/N) didn’t know how to use her wings…

That was strange to Warren. Maybe there was more to her than he thought.

—

(Y/N) awoke to a knock on her door.

“Hggggg… Just give me a minute.” She groaned. She rolled out of bed and opened the door.

“Jean? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay! We got back late and Warren said you were already asleep.”

“Oh… Well, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… Do you wanna come down for breakfast?”

(Y/N) glanced at her pajamas. “Can I get changed first?...”

“You look fine! Most of the group is still in their pj’s anyway.”

“Okay.”

Jean led (Y/N) down the hall to the kitchen where her friends were. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves or shoving food into their mouths.

“Hangovers?” She asked.

“Yeah some, I’m surprised you don’t have one.”

“I never said I didn’t.” (Y/N) got herself a cup and a plate, taking some of the food and drink available.

“(Y/N), are you okay from last night?” Jubilee asked.

She nodded.

Peter let out a breath, “Thank God. Xavier would have killed us if you’d gotten hurt.” (Y/N) nodded again, trying to just focus on the food on her plate.

“You’re lucky Warren was there to catch you,” Scott stated.

“Yep.”

“Is everyone going to keep talking about last night?” She asked herself.

“Probably. You could have broken your legs, or sprained an ankle— plus people like to talk.”

“Gossip, you mean gossip.”

Jean didn’t respond, she was too focused on whatever Scott was saying. (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

Typical.

Warren trudged into the kitchen— his curls tangled, wings almost dragging against the floor, and he wore the world’s most wrinkled t-shirt— he looked like he didn't want to be there.

He opened up a cabinet and took out a mug. He closed the cabinet door and moved over near the coffee pot on the counter. He took it and poured plain, black, coffee into his mug.

Then he took a sip straight from the mug.

“There is creamer and milk in the fridge,” (Y/N) reminded him.

“I know.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) focused on her plate again, trying to pretend the awkward interaction didn’t happen.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering—“ (Y/N) quickly looked up at Warren as he spoke. “I could like, help you learn to fly.”

“Um…”

“No one would see us. If you’re worried about that.”

“Oh my god! You should say yes!” (Y/N) quickly twisted her head over at Jean and almost gave her the finger, but Scott was watching. So she just glared.

She didn’t want Jean in her head all the time. Especially at a time like this.

She looked back at Warren, “Sure. I have nothing else to do.”

“Cool. I have some stuff to do, but I’ll get you in a few hours.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Sounds good.”

—

(Y/N) looked through her closet, trying to find something she could wear to fly in. Most of her tops weren’t exactly wing friendly. She sighed.

She didn’t even want to do this— she just wanted to hide her wings forever and move on from last night.

No. No, that wasn’t true in the slightest.

She needed to learn to use her wings, they were a part of her, whether she liked it or not. She had her old life ripped away from her in exchange for the big black heaps of feathers on her back, weighing her down every day. She had to embrace them somehow. They were all she had.

That and Jean… sometimes. And eventually, she’d have to leave the nest and talk to other people.

Warren knocked on her door. (Y/N) glanced at her reflection— she still had her pajamas on!

He knocked again, “(Y/N)? It’s me.”

“Sorry! Give me a sec!” (Y/N) hurried and shut her closet, then opening her door to let Warren in. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, are you—“ He glanced at her clothes. (Y/N) instantly tensed up, insecure by his gaze. “Why are you still in your pajamas?”

“Uh… I don’t really have anything good for flying—“

“Just wear some shorts and a shirt with holes in the back. Nothing fancy.”

“You don’t understand, I have one shirt with holes in the back, and it’s in the laundry.”

“You sleep with your wings tucked in?” Warren gawked.

“Sometimes.” She defended.

Warren glanced at something shiny in the corner of his eye. “Grab a shirt you don’t care about.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) grabbed an old Xavier’s school tee.

“Give it to me.” She handed it to Warren. He took the scissors from her desk and quickly cut slits in the back of the t-shirt. “There. Now you have something to wear.”

She just stared at Warren.

“Are you gonna put it on or?...”

“Can you step out of the room then?”

Warren’s eyes widened in realization on what he’d set himself up for. “Right! Right, um, do you need any help getting your wings through the holes?”

“If I do, I’ll ask. Now leave so I can get dressed.”

“Yeah, right, right.” Warren quickly stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

(Y/N) huffed and slipped her large nightshirt off, throwing it on her bed. She grabbed the shirt Warren cut up and put it on without a second thought.

Head pops out through the first hole.

The arms go through the sleeves.

The shirt slips down and covers the chest and torso.

But the wing holes were new. (Y/N) tried to push one of her wings out but she struggled. It took her a bit of reaching back with her hands to spread the fabric a bit so she had more space before she could get it through the slit.

The second wing she had more trouble with.

(Y/N) couldn’t reach her arms back as easily to spread out the slit. And her whole wing wouldn’t go through since it wasn’t the loosest of shirts.

(Y/N) opened her door and peeked her head out. “Hey, I need some help…”

Warren perked up a little, following (Y/N) into her room.

“Just like, hold the two sides of the slit out, and then I can get my wing through.”

Warren did as she asked.

“We’re they too small?”

“A little, but also this isn’t baggy like most of my clothes, so…”

“I can make the holes bigger if you want.”

She dismissed him, “It’s fine. I’ll do it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I already wasted enough time getting ready. We should go out.”

Warren nodded, “Yeah. We’re gonna be out for a while.”

—

They were standing on the roof of Xavier’s, looking out onto the grassy campus.

“So, uh, flying once you get the hang of it, is like a reflex almost… But uh basically, you just need to flap your wings, so you keep yourself afloat of sorts. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, um, just like, run off the edge—”

“Runoff the edge?!” (Y/N) asked, terrified of falling to her death. Scared of having a repeat of the night before.

“Just flap your wings, and if you mess up I’ll catch you.”

(Y/N) stood at the edge, peering down at the ground below. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe back up a bit, get like a running start first.”

(Y/N) did as he suggested, running off the edge. When her feet left the roof, she tried to flap her wings as Warren had told her.

She felt herself flying like a wonky baby bird. Somewhat lopsided with each flap, but she was doing it!

“Oh my gosh! Warren! Warren I’m doing it!”

She could see Warren still on the roof. He gave her a thumbs up and some encouraging cheers.

(Y/N) smiled, struggling to fly, but flying nonetheless. She looked down for a moment, and then suddenly realized she was many feet above the ground, in the air. (Y/N) panicked, and stopped flapping her wings for a moment, before she started to fall.

“Shit!” Warren flew off the roof to save (Y/N).

But it was a false alarm, for, by the time Warren was about to catch (Y/N), she’d regained herself and was no longer falling to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, it’s just really high up, I’m scared of falling again, like at the party.”

“Hey, hey, relax, don’t focus on the ground or your wings. Just— focus on me, okay?”

She looked at his face— his blue eyes, his plush pink lips, the dark lines adorned all over his face, and how he had a few untamable, blonde curls that framed his face— she looked at Warren’s wings and tried to copy how his fluttered and kept him aflight.

“You’re doing it!” He told her.

“Really?” (Y/N) was almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re doing great!”

(Y/N) looked at her wings, realizing what she was doing. She was worried she’d fall, but it never happened.

“I’ll race you to the mansion next door.”

“Next door? That’s like several acres.” Warren gave her a knowing look, and then it all clicked. “Oh! Oh, you’re so on!”

Warren laughed and they both flew off at high speed, away from school.

—

They got back to the mansion after sunset, both giggling and playfully fighting about who won the race.

“I think I won—”

“Oh, yes, beginner’s luck, Baby Bird.”

She raises her eyebrows and points at him, “Aha! So you admit I won.”

“I may have let you…”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, you got me. I wouldn’t go too easy on you.” Warren was headed for the kitchen, but (Y/N) was going in the opposite direction.

“I was gonna get a bite to eat. Wanna join me?”

“Um, I was going to shower first…”

“Oh… I’ll see you later then?”

(Y/N) was suddenly very awkward and nervous, “Um, yeah! Pfft, of course, uh— yeah. Yeah!”

“Great!” Warren was also suddenly somewhat nervous.

“Great!”

The two were on their separate paths, before (Y/N) turned back for a moment.

“You good?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, um,” (Y/N) kissed his cheek. It didn’t last long, but it left her heart pounding and Warren flustered.

“Thanks for today. I’m gonna go shower.”

#warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington x reader #x-men x reader #x men x reader #xmen x reader #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii x you #warren worthington iii oneshot #warren worthington x you #warren worthington oneshot #x-men oneshot #xmen oneshot #my writing #ben hardy x reader

445 notes · View notes