#either i do some sketchy black n white stuff

[nox-in-a-box]

alone

21.01.2025

[jillsandwhichs]

Office "Work"

Chapter 5 to RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!reader x Albert Wesker

Summary: You and Albert are doing an experiment together and decide to experiment with something else

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Co-workers

WC: 3.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: You two argue, Angry make out/sex, Choking, Slapping, Dirty talk, Spanking, P in V, He pins you down, Cums inside of you twice, Hair pulling and No aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

This is it. This is the moment you and Albert have been anticipating. As he used the tube to drop some of the tablets into the mixture, you two stepped back, waiting to see the results. What the two of you have been attempting to do was enhance part of the T virus, not that it needed it, it was already extremely strong, but Albert and you wonder what it could possibly do. Any lifeform that injects it into them could experience anything, Albert has already offered to be the subject for it, but you're unsure.

The liquid began to fizz and bubble up like soda pop. "Step back." Albert pushed you back with him, the thought of the vial shattering due to heat or it overflowing and somehow managing to hit the two of you was scary - Neither of you wanted that. That entrancing blue liquid began to change into a more thicker substance. "Oh Albert, I believe it is working." You said to him with a soft tone. "Let's not get our hopes up." Albert replied, his voice rather deep and sly sounding, like a fox would sound if it were human.

"And if it does work?" "We'll use it on the ultimate life form." "You?" You questioned the slim, blonde man. Albert only laughed in reply. "You shall see, dear." He always either called you dear or love, maybe it was something he did with all of his former female colleagues.

As for Albert, you don't know much about him. He did tell you on vital thing though and that was that he once worked for Umbrella, those damned bastards. He met you through The Organization though, but you split from them. They were a little too sketchy for your liking. Now ever since, the two of you agreed to work together to bring the T virus into it's most important state, the state that'll enhance it like never before.

Finally, the virus stopped fizzing and went back to it's normal look, although it was still thicker. "When are we going to use it on the uh, 'Ultimate lifeform'?" You asked of him, watching as he slipped his gloves up to pick up the vial. "We? Love, I thought we only agreed to work on it together, not to stick together." He chuckled, screwing the top back onto it and slipping it into a white case that had the Umbrella logo stained onto it.

Ignoring his last words, you spoke up, "Umbrella?" "Need not to worry, it's merely a cover up, therefore, they'll assume it's the doings of the tragic pharmaceutical company." Albert assured you, setting the smaller white case into a black brief one. Little do you know, he's a double crosser.

"Let me help you, I helped you with this, let me see what our creation does." You demanded, you were relentless, Albert liked the spunk you had to you. "No, no, no, you aren't apart of the initial plan." "Now I am." "No you aren't, dear." Albert spoke with a condensing tone which absolutely rubbed you the wrong way. You knew Albert was off, you knew he was far from a good man but somehow you had managed to trust him, confide in him and truly think he'd allow you to see what you helped do.

Albert began to tread off, ignoring your pleas, as if he had absolutely no care in the world. You doubt he ever did. But working with him, you thought the two of you had formed something. You didn't expect to be friends with the man, hell, you didn't want to be. He does realize you know more than he thinks you do, correct? You may be gullible but you aren't fucking stupid. You know he's the captain of the S.T.A.R.S Alpha Squad, which he never thought to make you aware of.

"You will let me help, or else I'll leak what you've done to the public, and all those puny S.T.A.R.S members and that bastard Irons will know of your doings." You yelled as he headed for the white sliding door, he soon paused in his tracks, his head tilted down as he shook it. "What did you just say to me?" He growled. The man turned around, setting the brief case down and speedily headed towards you. You backed up, your back hitting one of the desks, a glass pitcher tipping over. You were scared of him, even if you didn't want to be.

He grabbed your neck, it wasn't hurtful, it was a light choke, but it sure as hell kept you in place. "You want to repeat that?" He grunted, his face only inches from yours. "You heard me, I'll tell them, I'll tell them all." You said sternly, attempting to get out of his grip. This had all happened so quickly. It was like a bomb dropping out of no where. His cat like shaped eyes stared into what seemed to be your soul, as if he was reading you and trying to catch a lie somewhere in your words.

"You know nothing." Albert shouted, slamming you against the wall. Your head hurt afterwards, despite the fact it was only a push. "I know a lot more than you think. I know about you being the captain, I know that you plan to betray them and shit, you probably aren't just working for The Organization either." You rambled on, Albert seemed to be surprised yet amused. "How'd you figure this all out, hm? Who're you truly working for?" "The Organization, because unlike you, I am not a shitty person." "Yes you are, you're helping develop a virus that could wipe out mankind." He shut your statement down real quick.

Both of his hands gripped the white counter top, anger in his face evidently. "Why?" He yelled, "Why must you help?" He was furious, clearly. You stepped closer to him, not being as scared as you were before. "Because, I want to see what it does, I wanna see what it is you plan to do." "But it's none of your business." "But it'll be the Police Department's business when I let them know what their precious captain has been up to." You countered his sentence. He scoffed rudely.

"You're pathetic." Albert spat out at you, pulling away from the counter and once again getting in your face. He was mad, really mad. You felt scared but not as you did before. If anything, this was the first time he wasn't so monotone; He seemed real as of now. Those blue orbs of his were easy to get lost in, and you found yourself finding it hard to get out of them, time and time again. He was furious, yeah, but he looked better than ever, admittedly.

Are you truly pathetic?

"Am I?" "Very much." "How so?" "Look at you, black mailing me. Scum to the Earth, you are." "As if you aren't completely black mailing the R.P.D." You stated rudely, crossing your arms and stepping closer to him, standing up for yourself as you should. A sly smirk formed on the mans face, seeming as if he was pleased by something. The smirk soon faded as he spoke up again. "I could kill you." "Yet you haven't." "Yet I will." "So then do it." You know he won't. He can't. He defies himself to not do so.

Now, it was as if the two of you were in a staring competition.

His cold, icy eyes were staring into your soft, delicate ones. You didn't know what to think nor what to say. You were stumped, he seemed to be too. Anything you said, you were able to clap back ten times harder. A look of defeat was plastered on his smooth face, irritatied is most likely how he was feeling.

You went to turn away, wanting to just get out of this mess but before you could even proceed with one step, he pushed you up against the wall again and smashed his lips to yours. Utter shock. "Why do you defy me?" He growled, lifting your arms above your head and keeping them there. You grinned into the kiss, your gentle lips mad against his obsessive ones. "Because someone has to." You snorted, kissing him back, oh how you've yearned for this. Albert was always an attractive man.

You'd be lying if you said you've never imagined how this very moment would go down.

You attempted to move your hands, but ultimately failed. He kept you in place. You wanted to touch him though, feel his slim body. "You enrage me." "You think you don't do the same?" You mumbled against his lips, moaning as he pressed himself into you, your body shoved up against the wall completely. His fingers were wrapped tightly around your small wrists, making sure you weren't going anywhere. "You should just be obedient, but no, you just can't be, can you? Do you give your other co-workers this difficult of a time?"

Great question! You don't. Just him.

"It's none of your business, what I do with other workers." You stated cockily, this earned a light slap to your face before he then grabbed it, staring at you once again. "You're a brat." He grumbled. "I am?" You were so cocky, so snarky. He couldn't stand it. It were as if he was looking into a mirror. He couldn't stand how similar you are to him, he couldn't believe there was someone out there like him. It drives him literally mad.

"Tell me," He began, a seductive tone playing off of his tounge. "Is this what you want? Hm? To be fucked? To be told what a brat you are? Because frankly, you seem to be enjoying this." He teased, his face once again so close to yours. "Is that what you want?" "That wasn't the question." He then practically tossed you against one of the desks, having you bent over in front of him. "I'll make sure this is quick, brats don't deserve the good girl treatment." Albert hummed out, you could hear him messing with his pants, then yours.

This was it.

"What are you going to do?" "Fuck you, hard. Make sure you stop disobeying everything I tell you, and what others tell you. Clearly, you need it." Albert scoffed at you. You felt pathetic but oh, in the best way imaginable. You allowed him to pull down your baggy, gray pants, the cold lab air hit your legs instantly, your faded unshaven hairs sticking up and your stomach doing a twirl; It felt more like excitement rather than being affected by the cold though.

"Pull your panties down, slowly, and stay in position." He ordered sternly. You were frozen. You didn't know if he was being serious or not. "Did you hear me?" "Yes..." "So get to it then." He grunted, taking his hand right across your ass. You didn't know whether to smile or yelp, both maybe?

You took both of your hands on either side of your panties, slowly yet surely pulling them all the way down. You could feel Albert staring you down, glancing at your ass as you listened to his demand. A pool of wetness sat in your panties, soaked into them, you wondered if Albert was hard or not, he had to be. You felt scared, being completely nude from the waist down now. You are self conscious, hopefully he doesn't notice that about you.

He came up from behind you, lifting your stomach up slightly, causing your legs to lift off of the ground and when you did that, he used his dress shoe to pull your panties out from below you. You turned your head to the side, waiting to see what he was going to do and what he did totally caught you off guard. He picked up your underwear, scrunching them into a ball and sniffing them, his eyes closing gently as he did. The pheromones releasing from them and into his brain seemed to cause the erection in his pants to only grow worse.

You could literally see the imprint through his underwear.

"Smells amazing." He growled, now taking off his undergarments.

Your breath shuttered, you were in awe with how this man was. He could be so angry yet so sexy all at once, how was that even manageable? He stuffed your underwear into the pocket of his lab coat, then he grabbed ahold of your waist, a grin on his face that you couldn't see considering he has you bent over the table. You felt his manhood press against your ass before he then pulled his underwear down, his hard cock hitting your ass, then part of your center, earning a soft sigh out of you.

"You will be quiet, don't make a single sound, got it?" "Yes." You nodded, resting your head against the table, on your arms which were also set on it.

Behind you, you heard some shuffling before you felt his dick enter you, not even a single fucking warning. A small squeal came from you, your eyes widened and you heard Albert's "Tsk, tsk tsk..." From behind you. "Stay silent." That was going to be your only warning, you presume.

He began to pump himself into you, every inch feeling never ending. He had to at least be six or seven inches, oh he was so big. He was on the thicker side though, you could tell. His girth shot into you like a bullet flying out of an automatic, he just didn't let up. His hands held your waist in place, his long fingers trailing on your midriff, all over it. You could hear his moans behind you, at least he was enjoying this as well.

It was hard to stay quiet. You wanted to moan, whimper, all of it. You needed to let out something. It simply felt so good. "Crazy how quiet you get once you're being fucked." Albert taunted from behind you. The sound of your guy's skin slapping was rowdy, especially when he'd go into a frenzy, he'd go super fast and hard, that's when it felt best. "Can I speak?" You whined out, closing your eyes tightly as his thrusts got deeper, hitting that far, sweet spot. "What do you have to say?" He questioned you.

"It feels amazing." You giggled, lifting your head up, stabling yourself finally. "Oh, does it now?" "Mhm." You moaned, instantly covering your mouth, but that didn't last long as he pulled your arm behind your back, then the other one. "No, uh uh, no cheating your way out of this, my dear." Albert teased, one of his hands holding your wrists in place, his other still on your waist. Your entire torso was laying on the white table now, it was a bit uncomfy but it was difficult to think about that when he was dicking you down.

With each thrust, the desk beneath you shook and shifted, pushing itself further up. Albert hadn't seemed to have taken notice of it though, unless he simply just didn't care. "You're such a bad girl, so disobedient." You were. He wasn't wrong. But look at him now, fucking it out of you. Maybe he's the bad and dirty one.

Like he read your mind, he pounded into you harder, his cock twitching within you, your tight walls clenched around him, your cunt dripping. "Bet you've had more than one worker fuck you like this in attempts to get your attitude straight, hm? But they never fucked you this good." Albert huffed out, his other hand now on the back of your desk. You felt paralyzed but there was no complaining from you, him man handling you was needed, you deserved it.

"No one can fuck you like I can." He finally stated before you felt his cum stream into you, earning the loudest moan out of you, it was so unexpected. You would've at least thought he'd pull out, but nope. "Jesus Christ." You attempted to stand up but he shoved you back down. "I'm not done with you yet." He began to move into you again, his erection forming back up inside of you, filling up your walls. "What?" "I'm not letting you go til you cum around me." Albert established with you.

Wow, what a gentleman...

You rolled your eyes at his statement.

How could he immediately go back to fucking directly after cumming inside of you? That's rare for men, super uncommon. But overall, you aren't complaining.

His hand that was on the back of your neck now slithered up to your hair, gripping it as he fucked you. Gosh, it felt amazing, it was a such an adrenaline rush. "Oh fuck." "Stay quiet." He groaned, tossing his head back as he continuously slammed into you. Oh you could feel it, your climax was about to hit it's peak, your pussy clenched around his member, milking him once again, his semen inside of you. A total creampie.

You then also came, all around his length. He pulled out of you as you did, leaving you there to have an orgasm alone, without his touch. You held onto the table for dear life as you did. "Ohhh fuck." You whimpered, your legs twitching. You truly can't recall the last time you were fucked that good, it felt wonderful. He really knows how to use that dick of his. "My God." You chuckled, turning around as your orgasm died down but all you seem was him getting dressed immediately.

"Where are you going?" "Away." "Already?" "Do I have any more reason to stay?" He didn't seem to care at all, he was so nonchalant about this entire situation. You remembered your panties being in his possession. "At least give me my underwear." You sighed, being kind of upset with how he was just planning to up and go. Did he have no heart? "Hmm." He thought for a moment. "No, I'd rather keep them, use them for later." He snickered, that turned you on a bit but his actions were nonsense.

"So what, you just fuck me and leave? What's your deal?" "My deal? I needed to fuck the bitchiness out of you, guess that didn't work." "Albert..." "My love..." He mocked you, a chuckle coming out from him as he went for the door but you stopped him once again, for the last time. "Am I able to help and see what our creation will unfold?" You asked him, pleading at this point. "You know my email, my dear." He smiled menacingly before he walked out of the office, leaving you there, naked.

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[lanarist]

Hii, I really loved your Plug!Dabi headcanon, I was wondering if you can do a mini fic of him dating the reader or something like that.. if not that’s okay!! Also I love your writing 🥰💕

a/n: Absofuckinglutely I can. This got me so excited. Also thank you for your kind words 🥰 I did not expect my first time publishing my writing to get this much attraction but I’m grateful! I hope this is to your liking 💙

Plug! Dabi head cannon right here

Warnings: drug use, drug dealing, slight violence, guns, lil bit of foreplay, intercourse.

we got a lil bit of everything in here. smut, fluff, and angst.

Also, minors DNI✨

Tags: @bakugosbratx

Sunlight poured in through the blinds of your lover’s room as you began waking up from your slumber. Your eyes were still closed but you could hear the soft ruffling of drawers being shut and jingling of car keys.

“Baby, wake up for a sec,” Dabi cooed while rubbing your bare back, “I gotta go make a sell real quick. I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” You whisper, voice still groggy. You raise yourself on your elbows and squint your eyes. “Can I come with you?”

Dabi sighs. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to tag along with him. He loves having you in the car with him to run errands. But, this deal was sketchy to say the least.

He was going to meet the buyer at some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The dude was was only wanting $20 worth of doja, which was already odd to Dabi because the minimum he’s ever made was an easy $50. Not to mention the dude wasn’t a good person at all. The whole ordeal was just sketchy all around.

“I don’t know about it, doll..” He tells you with a sympathetic smile, “Maybe next time.”

“Please?” You pout and put on the best puppy dog like eyes you could muster. “I just wanna ride with you. We could get food after, my treat.”

Dabi breathes heavily through and out his nose, pinching the bridge with his thumb and pointer finger. How could he say no to you? Especially when you have that irresistible pout on your face?

“Fine, but you already know I’m not letting you pay for me.” He chuckles, “I wanna get this done so just get dressed. You can put on one of my shirts, I’ll be in the car.”

You grin sheepishly as he closes the door behind him and you get up from his bed. You hum lightly to yourself as you go through his shirts in his closet. You grab one of his plain black shirts and throw it over your body, it falling right in the middle of your thighs. Your hand reaches out to the floor and you grabs your shorts before pulling them on. You slip your shoes on while throwing your hair to an acceptable messy bun and walk out of the door.

————

“Doll, listen.” His tone undeniably nervous, “I need you to be quiet when he comes to the car. This dude sketches me the fuck out.”

“Okay..” You say, unsure of why he’s so spooked.

Dabi’s car comes to a smooth stop at an old abandoned warehouse. He moves one hand from the wheel and places it on the stick shift to put the car in park.

The sound of a phone ringing filled the car as you scan the area. You felt a small amount of fear forming in your stomach as you gathered that you two are in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Yeah?” Dabi speaks as he holds the phone to his ear and turning his head in every direction, “Yeah I’m here. Where are you?”

“I’m about to pull up on you. Anyone with you?” A rough voice spoke on the other end.

Dabi hums and places his hand on your thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, “I got my girl with me.”

“Ight, I see your car. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Dabi hangs up the phone with a heavy breath. You place your hand on top of his and caress it with your thumb.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You assure him with a gentle smile. “Just get the money, give him the stuff, then we can leave.”

“Yeah..” He sighs, letting his head fall back onto his headrest. “I just got a bad feeling about this dude, I don’t like him.”

“Then why are you selling to him?” You ask, genuinely curious.

Dabi shrugs his shoulder, “Money.”

The sound of a door being slammed shut made Dabi turn his head in that direction. He removes his hand from your thigh and breathes heavily one more time before rolling his window down.

“What’s up man?” The dude speaks joyfully when he gets to the window.

You don’t dare to look into his direction, but his voice alone made your skin crawl. His tone was full of farce friendliness. In the corner of your eye you could see that Dabi was gripping his steering wheel tightly and his chest was rising up down at a steady pace.

“Sup John.” He greets the man back, “You only wanted a couple grams, right?”

“Yeah man, that’s fine.” John waves his hand sheepishly. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“No problem.” Dabi tells him before turning to you, “Can you get the bag out of the glove box?”

You nod and lean forward to open the glove box. When you open it you see the manual book that comes with every car, a black smith & wesson pistol, and the bag full of doja. You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from gasping, you didn’t know he owned a gun.

Then again, why wouldn’t he? He is a drug dealer after all.

You reach into it, carefully grab the bag full of green nugs and take it out before shutting it. You lean your body back against the seat and hand the bag to Dabi.

When you turn to look in Dabi’s direction you gasp and your stomach drops. Fear consumed your body and you start to shake.

Dabi notices the expression on your face and his eyes go dark. He turns to face John again and was met with a gun pointed in his face.

Dabi chuckles darkly, clicking his teeth and laughs like a villain.

“You’re kidding, right?” Dabi taunts John. “You gonna try to rob me?”

“Cut the tough guy act, asshole.” John hisses as he cocks the pistol and has his finger over the trigger. “Give me your shit and you both can leave. I doubt your girl wants to see your head blown off.”

“Hmm, you know people will come after you, right?”

“Your friends? I’ll take my chances.” John laughs, then motions his gun to Dabi’s hand that held the bag. “Come on, get to it.”

It all happened so fast.

Dabi chuckled darkly one last time before he quickly grabbed the gun from his hand and slammed it against his head. John’s unconscious body fell backwards onto the ground as blood trickled down the side of his face.

Dabi throws the gun out of his window and reaches over you to the glove box. He grabs his gun and slams it shut.

Dabi pushes the clip all the way in with the palm of his hand and cocks his pistol before aiming out of his window. The sound of gun shots infiltrate your ears as you place your hands over them.

After the final shot, Dabi throws his gun into his lap after unloading it and speeds off. His tires squeal as he drifts onto the road.

“Did you.. Did you kill him?” You whisper breathlessly, ears still ringing.

“No.” Dabi assures you, keeping his eyes on the road to avoid your shock filled gaze. His knuckles were turning whiter than his pale skin as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“But he sure as hell ain’t going no where with fucked up tires.”

————

Not another word was spoken in the car as he drove you both back to his place, food long forgotten. Now back at his place, you laid on his bed finally calmed down as he sat on the side of his bed with his back facing you.

His white hair was an absolute mess from the many times he’s ran his hands through it with a loud sigh. His elbows rested on his knees while his head rested in his hands.

“Baby..” You cooed, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch him. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” He turns to face you, his blue eyes glossy and cheeks red. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I begged to go with you..” You pout, letting your gaze fall down to the comforter on his bed. “You haven’t talked to me either..”

“I could never be mad at you.” He assures you before laying his body down next to yours. He takes your hand in his and raises it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“I’m mad at myself. I knew better than to have you there with me. I had a bad feeling even before we left. Yet, I still let you come with me..” He whispers.

You felt your heart clench inside of your chest as he spoke. You have never seen him so shaken up like this. He was never one to show anyone his vulnerable side. The way he always carried himself it was surprising to others that he had emotions at all. It was even more of a shock that he had you. According to Keigo, he never gave anyone a second glance, and he definitely didn’t let people smoke his stash like he does with you.

You were different than the rest in his eyes. No one understood him like you do. No one has ever cared or worried about him. That’s why he couldn’t lose you.

“I don’t know what I would if something had happen to you today..” he whispered again, “I can’t lose you, y/n. I love you too much.”

What did he say?

“Pardon?”

“You heard me.” His blue eyes look into yours, full of love and admiration, “I love you, so fucking much.”

Tear brim your eyes as you take his face in your hands, “I love you too, Touya.”

That was the first time ever since you’ve been together, that either of you spoke those three words.

He lets out a small laugh before pressing his lips onto yours, pulling you into a passionate kiss. His hands find purchase on your cheeks as your lips danced against his.

“Can I just say that despite being scared for my life..” You pull away to speak, “Seeing you like that, was hot as fuck.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, moving his hands down to your throat. “Good to know, baby.”

Dabi smashes his lips back on yours and moves his body to hover over yours. Your hands reach down to the hem of his shirt and tug on it. He takes the hint and pulls it off of his body with one arm.

Your hands lay on his biceps as one of his hands traced down your body, starting at your collarbones, through the valley of your breasts, and down to the top of your shorts. His hand pushes pass your shorts and panties, then two of his fingers land on your clit, rubbing soft and smooth circles.

You whimper against his mouth and dig your nails into his arms, causing him to smirk against your lips.

You have one of your hands travel down his body and push it under the band of his boxers. Now it was your turn to smirk as he groaned into your mouth when you took his cock into your hand, pumping gently.

“Fuck doll,” He growled when you let your thumb swipe over his tip, “I need you, right now.”

“You have me.” You purred and bit his lower lip.

Dabi removes his hand from your clit and raises up off of you. As he took the rest of his clothing off, you did the same. Clothes were thrown and long forgotten on the floor of his bedroom.

His body laid back on top of your as he made himself comfortable in between your legs. Soft whimpers emitted from your lips as he started to slide his cock over your wet sex.

You both gasp against each other’s mouths when he slipped all the way into your wet cavern. He could never get over the fact of how he fit into your walls so perfectly. Like it was molded just for him.

His thrusts were much slower than usual. His hands weren’t choking you or pinning your wrist down. He wasn’t attacking your neck or breasts, leaving his mark. No degrading words were being thrown at you.

Instead, he slides his hands into yours and intertwines your fingers as his hips met yours slowly and he breathes heavily into your neck.

He was making love to you.

His name and profanities tumbled out of your lips as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you. You moved your hands out from under his and wrapped them around his neck.

“I love you,” He breathed into your neck before lifting his head to rest his forehead against yours and his hands cup your face. “So, fuckin, much.”

“I love you.” You whimper, placing your lips on his as he continues his slow and smooth thrusts.

You feel yourself clench down on him and your heart rate increases, the coil burning inside your stomach about to break.

“Baby, I’m about to-“

“I know, Doll. Me too.”

Dabi’s pace increases as he takes his final thrusts into you. His lips take yours into a searingly passionate kiss that stole the air right from your lungs.

You both moan one last time before Dabi stills and his hold on your face tightens. Pleasure struck through the both of you as you hit release. His hips move lazily as he fucks you through your orgasm. No high from any drug could compare to the one you reach together in these intimate moments.

One of your hands massage through his hair while the other does the same up and down his back as you both catch your breath. The soft sounds of his breath against your neck making you feel sleepy.

“You wanna go get some food and smoke?” He asks while lifting up to see your adorable fucked out face. That was his favorite part.

“Absolutely.”

[tinyyoungblood]

romance, eh? | peter parker

summary: it’s the broken main characters typeshi where they don’t think they deserve love, but over the course of the movie, they help each other and fall in love. football fields and late night drives. it’s kinda cute

pairing: peter parker x reader

trope: best friends to lovers

warning: language, very fluffy

a/n: i’ve resurrected from the dead, waddup <3

* * *

You were sat at the porch of your house, tossing rocks down the driveway and watching them skip toward a puddle. The sound of splashing water was the only source of entertainment as you were seemingly the only person alive in this town. When you realized that you had finally run out of stones to throw, you considered hurling the gnome down the driveway but decided against it and instead, patted your pockets in an attempt to locate your phone. To your surprise, it started ringing the second you held it in your palm. Peter’s name flashed boldly across the screen, illuminating your face. You answered the call and stood up.

“Where the hell are you?”

Loud rustling was on the other side of the line, and you squinted down the road in search of any approaching cars.

Finally, his familiar voice rang through the phone’s speakers. “Y/N, fuck, I’m—ow.” You heard a car door shut, and a string of curse words lingered at the tip of your tongue.

“Oh God, you’re not telling me you’re still at home, are you? Please tell me, you just closed the door to get out of your car and not in.” Absolute silence followed, and you could practically see him sit still like a deer caught in headlights. A beat followed before he replied carefully.

“What if I tell you I just entered a very sketchy dance battle in the middle of the forest and now it takes me 10 to 15, maybe even 20 minutes, to kick ass and get out of here?”

You took a deep breath and dragged your feet back to the porch, shunning it with a glare. “Parker, I swear to God, if I hear you turn on the engine right now, I’m going to set your Star Wars collection on fire.”

You heard him mumble something on the other side of the line, but were only able to pick out a soft “not cool”. The clanking of keys occurred next and before you knew it, the engine was yanked to life, making you groan loudly. “I hate you.”

You heard him set the phone down with a chuckle, switching to speaker. “I’ll get over it. Just don’t touch my Star Wars.”

You slumped back on the porch and grimaced at the spider web hanging above your head. Scooting away from it, you let your back hit the wooden ground, phone still pressed against your ear. “Just hurry up,” You murmured, defeat and exhaustion instilling a softness in your voice. He cooed at you.

“Don’t worry, I know there’s never any parking space on Thursdays, but I’ll run all the way from the parking lot to your house. Actually, I’ll start running the second this car is parked—no, wait, I’ll start running while I’m still in the car—”

“Peter,” you cut him off, knowing he could go on forever but still somehow end up not coming at all. “Just drive safely, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Fine,” he replied, “but I’ll have you know that I have now stomped two holes into the car’s floor to get to you Flintstone style. That’s the dedication we’re working with here.” A subtle click followed, signaling that he had ended the call.

Light laughter bubbled over your lips, and you shook your head at your best friend’s words. He was a dumbass, but at least he could make you laugh. One of the many reasons, you adored him. The rest of your life could be spent listing off the other reasons, but even in the afterlife, you wouldn’t be halfway done. You didn’t bother to sit up, opting to just lay on your back until either he would arrive or a passer-by would mistake you for a corpse and call the police. Whatever came first.

The next few minutes were waste of time. Now and then, a glance would be cast at the display of your phone, but that was really how far it went with the physical activity. For all Peter knew, you could’ve been dead when he finally arrived, dashing toward you like a maniac chased by the Holy Spirit. “Y/N?” He skidded to a halt and breathed hard. “You alive?” You felt him poke your side with his finger. Too drowsy to react, you simply lifted your hand and gave him a thumbs up. A grin swept over his lips, and he bent down to scoop you up, coaxing a sign of life out of you as you squealed but almost immediately after melted into his chest.

He chuckled and carried you to his car. “Hello to you too, baby.”

You forced an eye open. “Took you long enough.”

Shrugging, he cocked his head to the side and lifted the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you know, some girl was babbling my ear off while I was on my way here. Really messed up my schedule.” He pretended to scowl at you, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Seems like she didn’t do her job right.” You tucked at his earlobe, and he grimaced. “Such a bummer. You could’ve totally pulled off the Van Gogh look.”

He let you down into the passenger seat, shutting the door for you and setting his crossed arms on the rolled-down car window. “Oh yeah? You got a thing for dead artists now?��� His face was in a twist, and you found yourself rolling your eyes again.

“I got a thing for guys who value punctuality,” you replied pointedly, and Peter let out a loud laugh. Leaning down, he came to an eye-level with you.

“Good thing, that’s not me then, am I right.” He winked and walked over to the driver’s side. In a second, he was seated next to you and reversing out of the parking lot, head turned to look behind him while his arm was holding onto the back of your seat. You took the second of concentration to take in his features. When he caught you staring, a smug smile raised to his lips, but you were quick to smack his chest with the back of your hand.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just checking if you had a black eye or at least a broken nose,” you said and ignored the way he cocked his brow.

“Thanks?” His eyes flickered between you and the road. “I gotta tell you, that’s a very sadistic love language you speak, but I’ll take it.”

You shot him a glare. “How else do you want to explain being 40 minutes late if it wasn’t being robbed by a biker gang and left in a ditch?”

“My answer was lack of time management by birth, but your excuse does sound far cooler.”

“Well, sadly, there’s no biker gang.” You heaved a sigh of exhaustion. “Otherwise, I would’ve gladly let them de-ball you.”

Peter cackled at your words, shaking his head before reaching over to pat your knee. “And they say romance is dead. I bet they’ve never met a total sweetheart like you.”

You broke out into a grin and swiftly whipped around to stare outside the window. Deciding to roll it up to stop the fidgeting of your hands, Peter made it his mission to choose the perfect song for your little drive. When the song “Midnight City” came up, he stopped and turned to you while wigging his brows obnoxiously. Pointing to the time on the upper corner of the car’s display, he awaited your reaction. It was five minutes past midnight.

You sighed. “Peter…”

“Oh, shut it, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, morphing the pout on his face into a matching smirk. “You know,” he spoke up, still staring ahead, “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you if you never appreciate my genius.” He gestured to his face, and you snorted.

Your eyes caught a brown bag that was sitting at your feet. “I’m here to keep your ego from exploding, I thought we’ve already gone over this—hey, what’s this?”

Peter glanced at you. “Booze.” He said it so casually you barely wondered how he got a hold of it. “You told me to get the good stuff, remember?”

Frowning, you leaned forward and tried to catch his gaze. His eyes flickered to yours. “What?”

“Since when is the good stuff not chocolate?”

He contemplated your words for a second before pulling a face. “Oh. Well, you wanted to bitch about our sucky love lives, so I assumed that involved liquor.” He shrugged. “To make it less excruciatingly painful, you know.” Eyeing the bottle in your hand, you pursed your lips, oblivious to Peter’s pleading look to just go with it. You hadn’t an idea what he had to go through just to swipe that bottle.

“I guess,” you finally replied and screwed off the cap to take a big gulp, feeling the liquid burn down your throat. Raising the bag, you flashed him a big smile. “Off to our voyage!”

He mirrored it, also raising his fist in the air. “Off to the deserted island named football field.”

- - - - -

“So what’s got your love life in a twist?” Peter asked casually while biting a piece off his sour belt. Within the past hour, the two of you had consumed a considerate amount of alcohol but had yet to experience feeling fatally wasted. A slight haze had infiltrated your senses, but that was really it. You both were still perfectly capable of having a proper conversation.

“You mean my panties?”

“Huh?” He narrowed his eyes in deep thought. “Oh, you want to talk about your underwear. Yeah, I guess that’s fine too.”

“No, you meant my panties are in a twist.” He turned to look at you.

“Why would your panties be in a twist? Do you want me to untwist them?” Slowly, the corner of his mouth curved into a not-so-subtle smirk, and you fought hard to keep a straight face.

“I really do hate you, Parker.”

He grinned back at you. “Means I must be doing something right, huh.”

Choosing to ignore his words, your gaze traveled the dark night sky above, littered with endless sparkling white dots. Peter mirrored your action, letting comfortable silence settle in, as the two of you continued to lay next to each other on top of the roof of his car.

“I don’t know,” you responded after a while. You felt him look the side of your face, but you forced yourself to fix your gaze on anything other than your best friend beside you, your fingers fiddled with one another in your lap. “I guess I just haven’t caught anybody’s eyes yet. No one really likes me, you know.”

“I like you.”

“You know what I mean, Peter.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sighed and took up the courage to meet his eyes. They weren’t holding any trails of pity like excepted. Instead, you gazed into nothing but a loving pool of honey that ignited clouds of warmth to swirl in your stomach. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, and you had to force yourself to look away, just barely missing the glint of disappointment as you broke the eye contact. You shrugged, an unsure smile gracing your lips. “Somebody will come along, I’m sure. Maybe at a hot dog stand. Hot dog stands are reliable, right?”

The tone in your voice, lacing your words like grapevine, was poisonous, making the boy beside you sit up and pull you right along. Your poor attempt of self-assurance didn’t sit right with Peter, but you didn’t feel like confronting it just yet, and he knew that. So, he tried to catch your gaze, and given that you had no other choice but to look at one of the most important people in your life, you dropped your shoulders and gave in. You simply stared at each other in silence, seemingly waiting for the other one to crack first. The serious situation quickly shifted into a comedic but intense stare battle and before you knew it, you were pulling faces at each other.

You were pretty certain, the alcohol in your system did not contribute a thing to it, but eventually, even the two of you would fall victim to it as you already felt it tuck at some loose strings. And Peter being Peter, he spoke up first.

“If neither of us cracks any time soon, we will both look like fools who escaped a mental institution and are roleplaying as Harley Quinn and the Joker.”

And just like that, laughter bubbled over your lips, prompting a face-splitting smile to dance on his lips while his eyes were staring at you like you had created all good in the world. It quickly turned into heartfelt laughter and once he joined in, it only made you laugh harder.

Your eyes drifted until they met those familiar honey ones again. The ones you have known since childhood, and the ones you had stared into one too many times tonight. And suddenly the entire world was encased into an incredulously large pool of amber that you never wanted to leave. It made sense. It just clicked, and suddenly the riddle was complete.

And the best part about it all was that you knew he felt the same way. He had never been an easy book to read, not even when you were children, but that night, in the middle of the football field, you could read him like he was your favorite poem. Each line and metaphor were as clear as the sky. Without having acknowledged it much, your face had grown closer in proximity with his. So, when he decided to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper. The alcohol easily fanning over your lips in waves.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He inched closer, nose bumping against yours while his gaze danced between your lips and your eyes. “To find out how your lips feel on mine.”

His words caused newfound confidence to surge through your veins. The corner of your mouth quirked into a smirk, and you leaned forward. Lips brushing against his when you spoke. “I can put it on my to-do list if you want to know so badly.”

He chuckled, hand reaching up to cup your cheek while the other slid across your back. “Baby, you don’t understand how badly I want to know.”

He pressed his lips against yours, and immediately you sunk into the pool of amber. But you could taste more than just alcohol. There were honey and warmth. The way he made you feel—the way he had always made you feel all along, even in the most platonic ways. When cracking jokes or during shared detention. There had always been clouds of sweetness and joy surrounding you whenever he was near, but now that you had finally acquired the taste, you were addicted. You were making out with your best friend, and you loved everything about it. His arms tightened around you as you caressed his heated cheeks. They traveled to the back of his neck, threading through the curls of his hair, and pressing him closer to you.

When it was time to break away, you nibbled on his bottom lips, reluctantly parting, but still remaining close as his forehead rested against yours. He stared into your eyes with a whimsical smile while he tried to catch his breath. “Do you still hate me?”

You chuckled. “You know what, Parker?” Shaking your head, you tried to catch the train of thought you were losing just by gazing into his eyes. “Just a little bit.”

* * *

it’s 4 am here, and i’m pretty sure i’m sleeping as i’m typing this lol i had way too much fun with the dialogue. let me know what you think! as always, thank you so much for reading 💞 have a sweet one, guys x

masterlist

taglist: @honeypie-holland @himarisolace @duskholland @insidiousslut @siriuslyslyslytherin @quaksonhehe @geminiparkers @writertoo18 @fl0ating @luwloki @missnxthingg @hufflepuffhollander @dummiesshort @itstaskeen @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @totallyfangirling7177 @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @starlight-starks @fire1ordzuzu @parkerlovebot @parkerlovebot @ethereal-beauty-p​ @theweekendss @tom-hlover @peterspideysstuff @miraclesoflove @prettysbliss @fancyxparker @tom-hlover @blossomparkers 

[serosfan]

@ the NCT fans who INSTANTLY jumped on the Lucas hate train in light of more and more evidence being proven to be false.

1. While I respect your willingness to always believe a victim it came at too convenient a time with jalapeño dropping did we learn nothing from Soojin. Also poor Hendery he got caught up in this.

2. You’re willingness to suddenly bring up things that are not that deep (see teasing Kun which he stopped doing bc Kun expressed discomfort, the earpiece mess stage, hating on his rapping,etc) concerns me.

3. I started being skeptical at the allegation that had something like “and now he’s flirting with the instructor” when he’s clearly not flirting I think it was wakeboarding? Some water activity. It seemed sketchy IMO. And all the statements that have been positive we’ve gotten have been like, teachers and stuff not like friends or something.

4. Especially black Ncitizens(And I say this as a black Ncitizen) decided bc of the allegations that it was time to call him racist? Idk where that came from but I saw it on tiktok stuff like “I knew he sucked he looks like he’d say the n word” like wtf bro.

5. White Ncitizens aren’t in the clear either don’t pretend you didn’t jump at the chance to demonize a man of color when we all know your white boys of the week get passes(This is directed mostly at twitter)

6. Stop comparing it to Kr*s W*. Stop. It is a very different thing.

7. Gaslighting is a very serious allegation and if those messages had been true that’s not what gaslighting is. It’s shitty but not gaslighting.

8. Last point but I saw a lot of people saying Lucas didn’t deserve to be in NCT. The argument is he’s just there bc he’s attractive(cough half the idol industry cough), and that he didn’t train for long enough(Lai Guanlin, Aespa’s Giselle, Bae Suzy, CLC’s Elkie, Stray Kids Hyunjin all trained the same amount or less not hating on any of them just showing time doesn’t mean much). He works hard and is not untalented so stop that.

I can’t tell you what to believe and if you want to keep believing the allegations I can’t stop you but slander is not appreciated, do your own research, and let’s hope this doesn’t turn out like the other times we’ve seen things like this happen.

[likesomekindofcheese]

The Nurse and the Skywalker (6 Undergound Oneshot)

Paring: Four/Billy x nurse! Reader

Word Count: 1847

From anon request:  Can you do one with Ben( as 4/Billy in underground 6) getting injured and you’re a no-nonsense nurse having to tend to his wounds and he flirts with you at first, but then he gets serious/tender and vulnerable with you and it makes your heart melt?

Warnings: Swearing, hospitals, mentions of blood, illness, surgery, and injuries.

A/N: Thanks for your patience! Much thanks to @rhapsodyrecs​ for suggesting a great line! As well as @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ and @joeneslee​ when writers block got me in this one!

The afternoon coffee you had been sipping was gulped in one hot swig when your co-worker ran in, yelling “Y/N! It’s an emergency! You need to hurry!”

The 12-hour shift and it’s exhaustion was forgotten at the words. Your shoes squeaked against the floor as you were led into the room.

“A young man-he has a bad injury-he’s been shot and his bones are broken too!” she cried.

Looking over, the patient was young. Not too far from your own age in fact. He was groaning in pain. His arm and leg were broken. But you noticed a few gashes here and there. Still bleeding. A lot. But he looked up and kept his eyes on you. As you reached over to see some charts the mysterious man left and what could be known, you felt his eyes, and saw him even crane his neck just to keep an eye out on you.

Maybe I spilled something on my scrubs you thought, dismissing the notion as they wheeled his bed out into the hallway.

“Quick, give me the anathesea- and a surgeon- we can get the bullet out, but we have to be swift!”

You were handed the pain medicine to give to the patient.

As you put the tube over his mouth, he glanced up at you. His eyes were as green as a field on a picnic day. And you noticed his hair as well-it was cut short but very blonde.

“I…I’m scared…please don’t…” he muttered lowly. 

You felt your guts stir at the sound. He was deeply hurt. If he didn’t have the bullet removed, he was a goner.

“What is your name…?” you asked.

“I…don’t…have…a name…” he croaked. 

He turned ghostly white and then pink.

“I…I’m sorry, I should have been stronger…thought I could make that jump…I couldn’t. I’m not that fucking strong…” he muttered.

“Who dropped him off?” you asked your co-worker.

She shrugged.

“This guy with a beard and this weird voice and then after we got the kid on a bed, he just vanished with all the bills paid already in cash! The guy was loaded!” she gossiped, tugging at her bright pink scrubs. 

Turning to the patient, you forced him to look right into your eyes.“Okay mister, you don’t have a choice. You got lucky someone paid all of your bills, so you better suck it up and be grateful, got it?” you scolded.

He looked at you blankly before you put it right to his mouth and wheeled him to the surgeon’s office.

Two hours later you got word that the boy got lucky. The bullet was found and removed. It wasn’t too deep and nowhere near any vital organs. But he seemed to be ill and needed to be checked up and have his limbs bandaged.

“Here he is…he’s still on the pain medicine some, so he might be a little loopy…” the surgeon warned, before leaving you alone in the room to do your work.

“Hello…I’m Y/N, I’m your nurse…hang in there, you’re gonna be fine…” you said, he seemed half asleep. Almost in another world. There was no reply.You were checking his blood pressure when his eyes fluttered open. Your head whipped around as you tied the black strap tightly around his arm.

“Hey there…” he croaked out.

“Checking your blood pressure, hold up…” you mumbled, making it tight as possible.

“I must be in a museum…” he said softly.

“Well, I don’t see any Da Vinci any…”

“Because you’re a piece of art.”

Your jaw dropped and your head whipped around to see him. Did that really come out of him? Moments after he was near death.

“Pardon?”

He gave you a half smile and you felt a blush creeping up on you and it made you mad. Of all places this was happening- at work!

Did a patient really just flirt with me? Maybe it’s just my imagination.

You undid the black strap and set it away without a word, writing down the numbers. He reached over and picked up the menu of food options to be ordered for patients.

“Do you know what’s on the menu?” he asked.

“Vegetables. You better order some with your dinner. Eat up, your body’s in bad enough condition…”

“Close, but it’s Me ‘n you.” He added with a devilish grin. 

Your ears heard it right alright. You felt them grow hot.

“You know what else is on the menu? This antiseptic,” you ordered. Walking over to the side and getting an orange bottle and some cotton balls, eyes on his wounds. As you began to apply some to the cuts, the cool guy façade dropped.

“NNNnnnnng, no! No! And I’m sorry! Won’t do it! Won’t do it!” he whined. His voice getting a little higher than what was considered manly.

“Just shut up and suck it up, Romeo,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

The next day a woman arrived to check on the patient. A beautiful woman with tan skin and yellow hair with a white suit. You felt envy twinge in your stomach as her heels clicked on the tile floor.

She went into the room. If only you did not have duties currently. But no, scratch it, you weren’t interested. Not some cheeky patient that was trying to break all the medical oaths in the book. Passing by the room to put away your lunch box, you forced your ears shut at the quiet conversation they had.

As you returned, she left the door of the room. She looked up at you and pointed at you to come near. 

“You are nurse Y/N, right?” she asked in a European accent.

“Yes, I am.”

She glanced around to see if anyone was listening in. Then she leaned closer.

“How long have you worked here?” she asked.

You told her.

“Good, you know what you’re doing. We…we just need a bit of help. He’s on…on my company. He got hurt. Badly.” She said softly. 

Yeah, no shit you thought.

“What caused the wounds? I think he mentioned a jump…” you asked, folding your arms skeptically. What kind of sketchy company was this that was all hush and made gallons of money where people got shot?

Her pink lips tightened, she glanced to the left and then answered “It was a fall. Bad one. Just…an accident.”

“What’s your name? And what’s his name? Why did he get shot? Was there a shooting at your job?” you asked.

“We would prefer to be anonymous,” she answered coldly.

“What, why?”

“For protection. He’s here to get better, right?” she answered with a twinge of annoyed anger.

“Yes…”

“Don’t hurt him, then…or make him do anything to hurt himself more…”

She turned around and clicked away, but gave you one look, softened. As if to silently say thank you- even if you did ask questions about whatever this “company” was.

Hours later, you came into the room with the patient. Though you armed yourself to fight off like the black cat with Pepe le Pew, he looked at you and glanced down at his lap. His left arm and right foot was in a cast and he seemed red as a beet in his face. But the light in his eyes were glazed, but had dimmed. And he seemed in pain.

His forehead was like a furnace. Sticking a thermometer in his mouth, you watched the numbers rise above healthy at the end. Gently, you pulled it out to put it away.

A half-grin reappeared on his face.

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” he said.

“No, you got a fever dumbass,” you replied.

You showed him the temperature and he huffed lightly.

“Well, you will have to stay here a bit longer. Injured and sick. It doesn’t seem bad, but it’s still a double whammy. Three or four days…” you said,

He pulled out his free hand to play with his phone, pouting in defeat. You stayed to type into the pad you used for work to keep track of patients charts.

“Bi-billy…”

“Hm, what?” you said, turning around.

“You wanted my name, I’m…I’m Billy…” he confessed.

“Okay, thank you! I can finally call you something other than Romeo,” you jested.

“That’s not a bad name, either though,” he said.

The doctor working on him informed you that his fever did have a chance of breaking in the night. You offered to stay.

“Why, Y/N…you’re worried about him?” the doctor asked, cocking her head.

You shook away the creeping blush and smile growing on you.

“I just want the extra hours for pay!” you insisted.

You stayed there, reading with him. You realized what he was doing on his phone- watching movies.

“American movies are the best, like, us on the Pond get all the boring, slow stuff- America is where the real movies are!” he commented when you glanced over.

“Hey- that one’s my favorite!” you cried, recognizing it at once.

Indulging it, you watched the rest of it. Talking about your favorite actors, quoting the lines, and smiling ear to ear by the time the credits rolled by on the tiny screen.

“I was so scared…I was gonna die…” Billy confessed, setting the phone down.

“It’s just medicine,” you scoffed.

“No…when I fell…” he said.

“Really?” you asked, leaving the sarcasm.

“I felt that was it. You see…I…no, I shouldn’t…” he mumbled, looking down.

“You can tell me…” you urged.

“I got a chance to…uh, do something important. It was risky, but it was better than what I had before but I…I thought I was dead for good because I slipped and fell…” he added on.

Recalling the first day, he had a bullet in his body as well. How did that get in there? There was no news you checked of a shooting anywhere.

“And you were shot…how did you get shot?” you questioned.

“I…I can’t tell you everything but I just feel…I can trust you…someone was in danger…and I was trying to get him out and some’ow…I got shot and I fell off…” Billy explained.

“Fell off? Of what?”

“The skyscraper downtown…” he confessed, eyes down to his lap again.

“What! No! That’s a hundred feet high! How in hell are you even alive?” you gasped.

He looked at you and laughed.

“That’s some bad fucking words for a medical professional!” he teased. “But that’s a good question, really…”

Outside the window, a bird sat in the darkness on the pane. Its feathers seemed to glean in the moonlight. It was a clear night, even a sky filled with stars could be seen despite the smoke of the city

“I…I’m glad you survived. I’m glad you didn’t die and so you could- you know- help whoever this person is you were trying to help,” you commented. And this time you smiled back.

“I…I’m glad you were there to help me…dunno what I’ll do next time I’ll fall…” he said.

“I should be there then…”

Taglist: @themarchoftherainbowqueen​ @rhapsodyrecs​ (thanks for the wonderful line!) @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @sgt-stardust-killer-queen @queenlover05​ @lady-ofmischief

[iraacundus]

Butterfly Lies - ONE

chapter one ✭  masterlist ✭ next ✭

mafialeader kun x reader

words: 4k

genre: fluff, smut (in later chapters), angst

warnings: mentions of knives and guns

money makes people do strange things, is what people would say, it can even motivate them to murder. kun didn’t have people killed for the money, he had them killed for the power, he was a monster among men, is what people would say. in reality kun had only ever been motivated by one thing, his love for you

-----------

Kun had always been kind of sketchy. Even the day when you first met him at fifteen, you knew he wasn’t your average guy. You had been coerced by a group of friends to go shoplift the all night supermarket with them. You remembered standing outside with them in a group, going in two by two to steal vodka and gum. It was freezing cold and a stupid idea.

You had always been a well behaved kid so when you ‘friend’ told you it was your turn to steal some stuff you started to panic, mostly because they had asked you to go first, they thought you were naïve enough to try it.

You weren’t. But you did panic, instead of telling them you didn’t want to steal anything you just ran away. You hadn’t even know where you were running to but your feet kept moving, one in front of the other.

It only took those few minutes of you running to be lost, no idea where you were, twilight fading into dark. You had no phone and no money, you were just lost.

You started to walk back in the direction you vaguely believed to be the right one, two frightened to ask any of the people around for directions. You had never lived on the best side of town but now you were firmly in the worst part.

After about half an hour of aimless walking you sat down, head in your hands, really starting to panic. When you felt a tap on your shoulder you were sure the next conversation you were going to have would be your last.

Kun always said you were kind of dramatic.

It was him who had tapped you on the shoulder and sat down next to you, an easy going smile on his face. You felt a warmth from his presence which is why you didn’t immediately get up and run for the hills again.

You still thought he was kinda sketchy though. He was around your age, maybe a year or so older than you.

“You okay there?” He asked you, unbothered by your panicked demeanour. You shook your head.

“I’m totally lost,” you replied, deciding the details of your exact situation could be withheld. You had decided Kun seemed like the kind of guy who would have just stolen the vodka. You knew that was a biased judgement. You looked at the bruise on his cheek and his dark clothing and decided he looked like a gang member. The handle of a flick knife sticking out of his pocket hadn’t helped.

You hadn’t been wrong.

“I can give you some directions if you want, my name’s Kun by the way,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake. If all gang members were that polite you didn’t thank they deserved they rep.

Kun was rather unique you came to find out.

“I’m y/n,” you replied, shaking his hand timidly. His grip was firm in comparison, he just had a certain kind of confidence.

“Well y/n, I’ll walk you back to your neighbourhood, no need to fear when I’m around… not a lot of people mess with me.”

Looking back you could almost laugh. He may have worn dark clothes and carried a knife but there wasn’t much threatening about Kun at sixteen. He had fluffy hair and a bright smile. One of the first thoughts you had when you were saw him was that he was kinda cute.

So you became friends from that day onwards. He walked on you home and you thought you would never see him again.

Yet two days later he turned up at your door with a phone with his number in. You didn’t want to take it at first. You knew it probably wasn’t obtained legally. However you couldn’t afford a phone of your own so you took it from him.

You blamed it on the smile, you couldn’t say no.

To some he may have just been a local teenage criminal, but to you he was like a personal hero.

He was always there for you even when he didn’t support your choices.

Like when you started to date Minjun at seventeen. Kun hated Minjun and he hated that you liked him even more. You could tell just from the glare he emitted any time your boyfriend was near. He also told you he thought Minjun was a bad guy. You brushed him off, didn’t listen.

Four months later you wished you had listened when you walked across the room at a party only too see Minjun kissing another girl. He wasn’t even trying to hide it which you were not sure if it made it worse or better.

Either way you turned up at Kun’s apartment crying your eyes. Kun never asked any questions, he didn’t say ‘I told you so,’ he just hugged you and let you cry until you felt better.

His apartment at the time was small and he shared it with like four of his friends but none of them ever seemed to bother you. Not even as you loudly wept in their kitchen.

“You were right, he’s an asshole,” you said as Kun handed you some water and a jumper of his to wear, it was a cold night.

“I’m sad I was right… for your sake,” he said frowning as he looked at your tear stained cheeks, “I swear I will fucking beat that guy senseless, he deserves it.” Kun’s knuckles were white against his own glass of water, you were scared it would smash.

Because Kun did have a scarier side by eighteen. You never really asked him what he was involved him, but you knew it had become much more serious. Whenever you had met up with him he always had cuts and bruises.

He would get phone calls at random times of day and just leave apologetically. There was always the faintest smell of disinfectant in his car. And it scared you so you never asked.

“He’s not worth it,” you said, really hoping Kun wouldn’t get himself into trouble by beating up someone like Minjun who had a rich dad who could afford rich lawyers.

He didn’t listen though, the next time you had seen Minjun he had two black eyes, something you had no idea how Kun had achieved without lawsuits.

You had tried to have a go at Kun for beating him up, tried to express how that wasn’t the answer.

Kun just shrugged,

“Some people just need a good punch in the face, I’ve always wanted to hit him, him not deserving you was just the tip of the iceberg.”

You had to admit Kun just got more intimidating over the years. Three years later you were sitting with him in a restaurant eating dinner. He had offered to buy you dinner to celebrate your end of year results for university.

He had taken you to a fancy restaurant that you would never have chosen. He talked and laughed with you as you ate, the same way he would have when you were sixteen, but he didn’t seem to fully be there. You could tell his mind was focused on other things, no matter how well he hid it.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, your fingers playing with a glass holding the most expensive wine you had ever drunk, “you seem worried about something?”

Kun shook his head, obviously lying to you.

“I’m as fine as I’ve ever been. Do you like the food?” he countered. You didn’t press the matter. You still never asked questions. You liked your version of Kun and so you knew you probably wouldn’t like the answer to any questions you could ask.

“The foods great, but probably overpriced,” you said, causing Kun to smile. He pushed a small box over to you, scrunching up the tablecloth slightly as a result. That seemed to panic the waiter nearby. It was a fancy restaurant.

You took the box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful but rather ostentatious bracelet. You could only imagine what it cost.

“I told you to stop buying me things Kun,” you sighed slightly. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful, but it was hard to accept such lavish gifts, “I don’t have the money to get you nice things in return, I got you a frog alarm clock for your birthday, you can’t just buy me diamond bracelets for every time we meet.”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you are worried about?” Kun said, his eyes glancing to a recent text message.

“That is not the issue. I just don’t want you to spend so much money on me when I can’t do the same for you and probably wouldn’t anyway because it’s sort of over the top.” You explained.

Kun turned his phone over and held his hands up playfully.

“Okay this is the last one, I will stop. I just wanted to give you a present for being such an amazingly intelligent student, Lucas helped me pick it out.”

Lucas was a friend of his. You didn’t know many of his friends, in fact Lucas and Sicheng were the only ones you knew. They only really showed up when Kun asked them too, they sometimes had drinks with him at Kun’s favourite bar but you didn’t like spending time with them.

Not because you had anything against them but it was with them that Kun was different. He was much more cold and almost never smiled.

You could never understand why.

You held out your wrist as Kun fastened the bracelet, it was one of the most wonderful pieces of jewellery you had ever seen. Even if you only had your seven pound hoop earrings and your ten pound ring to compare it too.

You really wanted to ask where Kun was getting all this money all of a sudden, but at the same time you still didn’t want to know.

Kun only became colder, even towards you in the weeks that followed that dinner. He would talk less when you met up and more often than that he would blow you off before you even got to the proposed location.

You ignored his antics and went back to studying. You had a life outside of Kun, one that was very different. You had lots of friends at uni, guys you would hook up with casually, you weren’t interested in dating. You were a top student in your economics class. Not even your closest friends even knew Kun existed.

When he wasn’t there you missed him. For years he had been your closest friend, your teenage hero. So when a whole month had passed in which he had ignored your calls, you decided to give up your policy of non-interference, no questions asked.

You got the bus to his apartment and climbed up the many flights of stairs, looking for the best graffiti you could find on your walk up. The whole stairwell was covered in art of a single letter. The letter V.

When you got to Kun’s apartment and knocked on the door you didn’t get an answer even though you could tell the light inside was on.

You banged on the door again harder this time.

“Open up Kun, I know your ignoring me and I’ve had enough, if you could at least explain why, it would be appreciated!” you shouted.

You started to hear whispering and rustling from inside the house and so you decided to wait. A few minutes later a boy you had never seen before opened the door.

“Are you y/n?” he asked, his head just visible in the small gap he had opened to talk to you.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Kun, last time I checked he lived here?” you said, slightly confused as to what was going on.

“Yeah he moved out about six months ago, Xiaojun’s calling him now… I would let you in but Kun said that I was never allowed to let a girl named y/n into the apartment unless he was here so, I apologise for that. I’m Ten by the way,” He gave you an apologetic smile before closing the door in your face.

You sunk down against the wall, seriously questioning your continued choice to be friends with Kun. You didn’t understand how he could take you out to a fancy dinner one week and then ignore you for the following month.

You didn’t think sixteen year old Kun would have done the same.

It was dark before you saw a black SUV pull up by the apartment block and Kun get out. He jogged over to the building and up the stairs before stopping in front of you.

“Have you really been sitting out here all this time?” he asked, his face concerned.

“Only because you told your buddies I wasn’t allowed in,” you replied, unamused, “you didn’t want to mention it to me that you moved house?”

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say.

“I only came to look for you because you won’t return my calls. What’s wrong Kun, did I upset you or something because if so we can fix it, don’t just ignore me, we’ve been friends for years.”

“I’m not mad at you or upset with you, I’ve literally never been mad at you y/n,”

“Then why have you been ignoring me?”

“It’s complicated and..”

“I’m top of my class I’m sure I can follow.”

You realised that in asking him this you were finally asking something about the life you had never asked him about before. Sometimes you wished you had asked him what he was doing from the start.

Kun didn’t reply, he took your hand in his and started to lead you back down the stairs and out to his SUV.

He opened the door for you to get in. It was as nice a car inside as it was outside, soft leather seats that were heated and a touch screen dashboard.

“I’ll show you my new apartment,” was all he said before starting the ignition. The silence was pervasive so you switched on the radio, only to hear the news headlines.

“A series of murders have been linked to gang violence, possibly associated with the rise of the gang known only as V, though this is thought to be an alias. Police have launched an investigation but are no further in.”

You switched the radio straight back off. You had seen the graffiti, you knew that whatever Kun was involved in it had to do with this V.

Kun sighed slightly. He must have been able to tell you knew from the way you violently turned the radio back off, his eyes glancing at you in the mirror.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” Kun managed to whisper as he pulled up in front of a rather large, sophisticated looking apartment building. He got out, leaving the keys in the ignition for the valet. You followed, before he could go round and open the door for you. Gripping your phone in your hand tightly.

You didn’t think the elevator with two other people in was the best place to tell him that you would never hate him so you waited until he opened the door to his apartment and let you in.

The apartment was twelve times nicer than his old one. It was huge, had views of the city and expensive furniture. He had a large flat screen tv and soft cushions on his sofa.

“You’re doing well these days my friend,” you said, trying to ease the tension, “can we sit down?” you asked. Kun nodded, walking round and taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

“Before you say anything, I promise I won’t judge you. I’m not even asking you to tell me what you do or why, I have never asked you to do that. I know that what you do for a living isn’t legal and that’s up to you. I do care about you ignoring me though.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, running his hands through his hair, “I’ve been busy in something I just didn’t want you to get caught up in, it has been kinda stressful. I don’t ever want to ignore you or make you feel like I don’t want to hang out with you because you have to know by now that’s not true.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, pulling him into a hug.

“You know that just because I don’t ask, doesn’t mean you can’t tell me, if you would rather get it of your chest I’m willing to listen. That’s what best friends are for.”

Kun pulled away shaking his head.

“I don’t ever want to get you involved in what I do.”

“Just remember I’m not fifteen and scared of the dark anymore,” you laughed, teasing your past self. Kun still didn’t laugh. His lips a firm set line.

“But you would be scared of me and I haven’t been trying to win you over for all these years just to lose you.”

His words were not a revelation. You had always been aware that Kun had some sort of crush on you, he never really hid it. You knew that had been his main issue with Minjun. He hadn’t mentioned it for almost two years and so you had thought he had finally gotten over it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find Kun attractive, it was more that you weren’t willing to risk your friendship.

You had never been one to take risks.

“If I wanted to know would you tell me?” you asked him.

“If you wanted to know what?” he replied, playing dumb, stalling, clearly afraid you were going to ask even though you had just promised not to.

“If I wanted to know what you do, what V is, where you suddenly got all this money?”

“Probably, though it might be an abridged version of the truth,”

At least he was honest about his inability to be honest.

“Ten seemed nice,” you said, changing the subject, “he was very polite about not letting me in.”

“All my friends will be kind to you,” the way he said friends not quite sounding right. You were becoming more curious, you just wanted to know. You had been content with not knowing all these years but when he was making the news.

You suddenly were unbelievably curious. Only the pained sound of Kun’s voice when had talked about losing you prevented you from asking. You didn’t want to upset him. Preserving your friendship was still the goal.

“I think we should watch a movie,” you said grabbing the remote from the table, “unless you have work?” you paused, not thinking that Kun was probably as busy as before.

“Work is cancelled for the evening, a movie sounds great,” he said, finally managing to smile for the first time, “pick whatever one you want.”

You turned on a lighthearted animation. You weren’t really focused on the film, just happy that Kun wasn’t ignoring you because he was upset. You always felt calm when you spent time with him.

Near the end of the film it was almost midnight, you had rested your head against Kun’s shoulder, your eyelids heavy. You weren’t sure exactly when you fell asleep but woke up sometime later.

The sun was streaming through the gap in the curtains. For a moment you had no idea where you were. You realised you must have been in one of Kun’s spare rooms.

You wondered back out into the living room looking for Kun. There was a note on the kitchen counter that he had left.

Had to go to work – if im not back when you get up I left a toothbrush for you in the bathroom and there is cereal and juice in the cupboard help yourself. 

You went back into the bathroom and brushed your teeth before rifling through Kun’s cupboards in search of the cereal.

You had managed to find the milk and cereal and were only missing a spoon.

You searched through some of the smaller draws almost jumping back in fright when you saw a gun inside one of them. It was in the centre of the drawer amongst some old chopsticks and napkins.

Even for a gang member you thought it was strange he kept a gun in his drawer. You had never been scared about any of Kun’s work until that moment. The reality of him having to hide a gun for protection was one you had been hiding from.

Just the night before you had decide to ask nothing. Now you were worried about how much danger Kun was putting himself in.

You closed the drawer slowly, your heart beating fast.

When you heard a noise at the door and voices outside you panicked, the same way you had panicked at fifteen. This time you couldn’t run so you opened the drawer and pulled out the gun pointing it at the door.

Finally the door opened and Kun walked in, with Ten following behind. Both of them immediately throwing their hands in the air at the sight of you with a gun.

“Jesus Christ y/n, put the gun down what are you doing,” Kun called out.

“It’s just you,” you stuttered, your whole body shaking from adrenaline as you let the gun fall to the floor. You had no idea why you had been so afraid, why the gun had put you so on edge. “I heard voices and the door banging and…”

“So I’m gonna let you guys talk,” Ten said, backing out of the door slowly.

Once the door had closed Kun ran over and picked up the gun, placing it back inside the drawer.

“How much danger does your job put you in, is it even safe to stay here?” you asked, “because I would very much not like to be murdered in my sleep.”

“I wouldn’t let anyone kill you y/n, not in my flat, not anywhere,”

“See none of what you said there is that this is a safe place to be, fuck. I should have known that if you were involved with a gang linked to murders there was some danger but what people are out to get you, do you sleep with a gun under your pillow?”

“It’s complicated. No I don’t have a gun under my pillow that would be dangerous for all kinds of reasons. I keep one in my bedside table and one here in the kitchen drawer which I forgot you could stumble across, I’m so sorry it scared you.”

You started pacing up and down slightly.

“Can you not just quit?” you asked, ninety-eight percent sure the answer would not be the one you wanted.

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Your boss would kill you right? For being a traitor, the leader of V whoever he is.”

Kun laughed slightly but not because anything was really funny.

“I wouldn’t kill myself no, but that still doesn’t mean I can just quit, people rely on me, I have stuff I want to achieve.”

It took you a while to realise what he was admitting to you. The worry in his eyes increasing with all the seconds you remained silent.

“You are the leader? You’re a gang leader, my closest friend leads a gang that is on the news for killing people.” You began to just word vomit, speaking your thoughts allowed. You thought your dramatic nature was justified given the situation.

“A few years ago all you did was steal bikes for a guy named Doyoung and get into fights. How did you end up… I don’t want to know. I’m willing to level with you Kun, I’m panicking here.”

Kun seemed helpless to help you.

“I’m still me,” he said pulling you into a hug, “I’m not saying there isn’t a danger y/n, but I’m in charge of a pretty sizeable gang, I have the power to protect myself and those around me.”

You panicked less as he hugged you, even in this situation his touch was calming.

“Why did you tell me now that you were the leader?, you could have lied,” you asked him.

“Because not telling you hasn’t made you love me any more.”

[jtsfavslut]

Part 2 of Heather, it’s soooo good 👀

STOPPPPPP BROO IM FINNA CRY BUT HERE YOU GO MAMAS 🥺

PART ONE

This sucks ass, like it’s embarrassing but if I make a Part 3 it’ll be better I-💀

It’s been 5 years since you left New Jersey.

Saying you missed it was a lie. Saying you missed the people was an understatement.

Five years, and you still wonder how Grayson reacted to your letter.

When you first moved you got a cute loft apartment in downtown LA, which is still your current apartment.

It took you about a month to get used to the LA life, but you quickly got used to the postsmate and Uber eats life.

The only thing that you know about them is that they live in LA too, and only because you over heard people talking about it at Starbucks.

Apparently he and Ethan are famous now. Which if good for them you thought.

You on the other hand, finished high school online, and just graduated from UCLA with a literature major and photography degree , and you just got an email saying you had an interview at Vogue Magazine tomorrow.

You instantly got up from your bed as a few happy tears trailed down your face, even if it’s just an interview you felt highly accomplished because they only do 10 interviews a year, so this was your only chance.

You walked over to your closet, to pick an outfit for tomorrow. You spent a good 20 minutes trying to pick out the perfect outfit since it was a fashion magazine after all.

You decided on some plaid dress pants, a black shirt that would expose a bit, but not a lot of your chest, and would be tucked in, a matching jacket that was the same pattern as the pants and you would pick accessories and a hairstyle tomorrow.

(This is her outfit because I love putting pictures of clothes when I speak about them since people on Wattpad love it so much. You better love this fit cuz it screams “men suck ass and woman are powerful)

Not having any contact with any close people from Jersey or any friends in general, you celebrated and shared your joy by yourself (lowkey how I’m going to be because I hate my family and I’m antisocial in rl💀)

You nearly placed your outfit on a chair that you had at the corner of your room, and picked out an oversized tee, and a pair of clean underwear and went to the bathroom to take a shower.

You did all your businesses, and went on your computer searching up interview tip, before falling asleep.

The next morning you woke up around 6AM since your interview was at 7:45.

You took a quick shower getting dressed into the outfit you picked yesterday and styled your hair as usual, making you just straighten it.

Time was quickly passing by and it was already 7AM, so you decided to just buy breakfast and not be late.

You arrived at the Vogue building at 7:35 and quickly walked in to be greeted by the desk lady.

“Hi, My names Y/N Y/L/N, I have an interview with Mr.Styles today,” you sweetly told her and she just smiled at you. (YES ITS FUCKING HARRY STYLES)

“7:45 correct?” She asked and you nodded your head.

“I’m going to send you right up, take the elevator to the 10th floor, and it should be the last door in your left,” she said, you thanked her and walked away.

When the elevator’s doors opened up to the correct floor you couldn’t help but feel intimidated and anxious.

This was your first interview for a company this big, and you didn’t want to blow it.

With nerves shaking up your entire body, you knocked on his door and walked in when you heard a faint ‘come in’.

“You must be Y/N,” said the guy who must be Mr.Styles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr.Styles,” you replied as he shook your head and gestured you to take a seat.

“Please call me Harry, The mr makes me feel old,” he said which made you chuckle and nod your head.

“Now tell me why I should hire you Y/N,” he asked.

“Well, I believe I meet the certain requirements to be a writer for Vogue, not only for my major in English literature, but because I have passion for writing and it’s my behest fashion, and I have a love for fashion too,” you said trying to sound as confident as you should, but not stuck up either.

“Good. I see that you’re also a photographer,” he spoke as he read a paper, which you assumed was your application.

“Yeah, photography is another passion of mine,” you smiled.

“Well, I believe you have what we’re looking for, you lack experience but I believe that over time you’ll get the hang of the job. This is a very serious job Y/N, it has its perks but you have to work hard. And I believe you can do that,” he said while smiling.

“That means your hired, you’ll start tomorrow. Since you’re a photographer aswell, I want you to have a photo shoot and interview the person, is that alright with you?” he asked making you nod your head.

“I’m more than alright thank you so much.” You said happily and proud of yourself.

“Good, I’ll send email you all the informations, and who you’ll be having an interview with, all I know is that he has millions of fan girls so I’ll be carful with that. Now you go have a great rest of your day, because once you start you’ll be too busy” he said diving some stuff.

With a thank you, you left the building and made your way home.

You finally felt like you achieved something and we’re definitely proud of yourself.

When you got home, you filled up your tub, with some bath salt and all that relaxing stuff since Harry said you’ll get a few relaxation days.

Not that it bothered you because you were used to being stressed and working under pressure.

You finished that day off, by watching some Netflix and went to sleep early, making sure to set an alarm up to not miss your first day.

The next morning you were woken up by the alarm, the excitement of this being your first day radiating off your body.

You jumped in the shower, to get refreshed and got our choosing to wear a pair of cream colored Dickies, a white top, a pair of white platform docs and some layered necklaces and sunglasses.

You picked up your phone, opening the email app to see the information your boss sent you, he only sent you the adress and the time you should be there.

You left your house, stopping at Starbucks to get an ice latte and made your way to the place, it was at some studio that you never heard off before, and it was a couple of minutes away from where you lived.

When you arrived you looked around from inside and let Harry know that you were there.

‘Just walk right in, it’s one of our buildings, he’ll be there in a couple of minutes I’ll call you when he’s there. Good luck,’ he replied, you sent a thumbs up emojis (what am I even writing tbh) and got out your car walking in.

The place seemed sketchy from the outside, but it was an entire different story inside.

Walking around you noticed it hadd different back drops, and a back room.

You walked to the bathroom to set your stuff up, and get ready.

After a few minutes your phone started ringing with a call from Harry.

“Hello,” You softly spoke holding the phone with your shoulder as your hands worked with the camera making sure all the frames and setting were right.

“Hey Y/N, he’s there so go open the door for him. This is your first day and I believe in you, so have fun,” he sweetly spoke making you smile.

“Ok, thank you so much, I’ll talk to you soon,” you said your goodbyes, hung up the phone and went to open the door.

“Hi, im Y/N nice to meet-” you said opening the door before realizing who was infront if you.

“Grayson,” you whispered as you saw him in the flesh standing right in front of you with a hurt expression on his face.

Like I said before this sucked straight up ass and like it's disgusting but ehhh

[belladonnaandulriched]

the artist | prologue

something that began life with my encounters with joey belladonna on instagram last fall and this past spring (before they turned into qvc 2.0 in late october, that is). i thought of him, as well as the time i wrote a letter to lars and the three years chris was in my periphery. thus, this is actually somewhat autobiographical as well as my watching the world unfurl right before my eyes in the year 2020. joey, lars, and i are alive in this terror-filled nightmare that chris never saw, and i cherish every second the two of them are continuing to walk the earth with me. consider it a testament of our survival that we have reached the final 30 days of this year unscathed.

i’m also looking ahead to after the pandemic, how the world might manifest in the virus’ wake after looking at history with the world-changing diseases like spanish flu, smallpox, and the black plague, as well as civil unrest and the existential threat that is climate change. i will admit that i have no idea where we all will be in 5 years time, but i can guarantee that no nation was the same following those events, especially since the united states was seemingly on the brink of destruction for a few years preceding the pandemic. it’s kind of like what sci-fi writers of the early 20th century did with the advent of the nuclear bomb as well as space travel.

at this point, with 20 chapters left to write, i hold the artist right up with now it’s dark, amped and wired, and black diamonds. it’s me living in a world that has collapsed and we’re all living in the unknown; it’s me wondering which step to take next with the three men i adore near me. it’s not on the same level of agony with my dead trilogy fics, the mirror never lies, or my original work black rain (which i wrote as a goodbye to chris), but it’s... it’s definitely there.

anyways, enjoy! xoxo

He was a tall lithe gentleman with those lush dark curls strewn over his shoulders as though they were the sides of a mane. The way he moved about on a stage with either that shiny mint green guitar cradled in his hands as though it were a naked woman, or the microphone as though it were about to get away from him was enough for me to pick up a pencil. I wanted to touch and caress his black curls, to put them down on paper. He was what I referred to as “draw-able” in that I always returned to him for inspiration.

I swore that it wasn't a phase—I tried to convince my dad that it wasn't a phase, even when I showed him my first drawing of Chris. I was proud of the drawing, too: it was rough and sketchy, and yet you could tell it was him with those long shoulder length curls behind his back and down over his collar bones. I had used a single pencil to draw him as well.

“Holly, you've gotta do something else with your art,” he said to me that first time. “You've got to do some more still life.”

I often heard that a few times thereafter, even as I did more studies of Chris singing and in different stances to understand his anatomy a little better. It always struck me as odd that my art wasn't more embraced at home growing up, even though my parents were more than happy to support me in my path to art school. My dad showed me the one school down in Portland. I wanted to stay there in Tacoma, even with Chris and his band based up in Seattle.

At some point, and by that, I mean a few months before I graduated, to work my way around that complaint, I began incorporating more plants into my drawings of him. More roses and more leaves jutting out from his shoulders and from the crown of his head. I kept those drawings to myself, granted I knew if I shared them with the household they wouldn't be seen as serious art.

One time when I strolled into an art shop for some colored pencils and I had my sketchbook tucked underneath my arm, I went in under the power of a secret. I had climbed off the bus before the one outside of my house. I protected my sketchbook from the soft spring misty rain of the Northwest. I had a few dollars in my pocket, money left over from the stimulus money I had scrounged up. Just enough for some new colored pencils for some more botanical type work for my drawings.

I'm the multiracial kid with the kinky coarse black hair inherited by a Native American mama and the pale skin from my half white daddy. It had been a long road to hoe the past few years in the wake of the pandemic, especially for my mom and me. She and I had been dealing with it with a bit more difficulty from my dad, since he was the one with the job, at least at first. Even though I was a few years younger by the time we got our check, I got one for myself and I made sure the money stretched enough to whenever we got another one.

Even with my drawing pad under my arm, and the introduction of my digital drawing tablet, I had days where it felt like I needed to do something a bit more useful.

It was from all of the times I heard my dad's criticisms about my art in the past. Add to this, the uncertainty from living through a global pandemic and social reset made me wonder where we all would go from the second the dust settled. I needed to rest my head so much following even the smallest projects. I had witnessed the older generation pushed to its brink and stragglers such as myself found themselves at square one for so long that it was difficult to know which way to go. I was always told that I needed something feasible, something to keep me safe. But the pandemic showed that nothing was safe.

Even in my spare time, or in the times I took a day off from drawing, I found myself seeking solace in reading about things like science and of course, listening to music. For years, I found myself leaning more towards the harder side of the rock n' roll world: Soundgarden was the first band I had found, but then there came along Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains. It helped that they hailed from the north of us, so it made sense to me to find them.

But then there was Metallica and Anthrax.

I would sit on the floor of the living room before my stereo with the radio tuned to the modern rock station nearby, and with my earphones in my ears; I would sit there with my drawing pad cradled in my lap and let the music be my master. I came for the scene to the north, but I found my way to the heavy stuff.

I had used a little bit of the stimulus money to buy myself a couple of albums, on part of the recommendation of the chick in the record store of course.

Those swirling powerful but simple drums riddled throughout the Black Album. So simple and yet so strong and with such prowess, perfect for the spine of the music. That strong and exotically beautiful voice from Spreading the Disease. I wanted to touch that voice, to put it and cement it down into something like paper. I was enthralled by the power and prowess of heavy metal.

I scoured the channels of Tumblr to see and study their faces, to see Lars and his long lush brown hair and fuzz about his face, to see Joey and his long beautiful black curls and handsome face, to see them all. And yet I still found my way back to Chris. I still found my way back to him and that unique voice. So deep and full in places and yet unafraid to howl.

And yet I felt so far behind them, a teenage girl from a lower end family and with mixed roots. A girl with parents working so hard that they almost ignore the very craft she was proud of.

I wanted to draw him with roses, complete with the lush red and orange petals. Thus I headed to the little store for some new colored pencils—those good ones that come in all manner of shades of color in a silvery tin. I brought my sketchbook along with me to try them out before I bought them for myself. I already had sketched a portrait of Chris himself but I left him as is so as to fill him out later on.

I stepped into the front of the shop and stripped off my hood. I ran my fingers through my coarse black hair and then unbuttoned my jacket: I looked down at the linoleum floor underneath me. My jeans were falling apart: the waist fitted me a little too well at that point and the hems were tattered. My mom vowed to fix them for me, but when the fabric stores were all closed during the pandemic, it was difficult to find anything that could help us.

I shuffled across the shiny linoleum to the aisle with the colored pencils and the nice paints. I stood before the display case and scanned the tins and boxes before me to find anything that would catch my eye.

I was still adjusting to the world following the pandemic: there was a part of me that wanted to stroke my chin in pensive thought but after hearing all of the talk on not touching your face, a part of me continued to resist that very tidbit. I spotted a box of Prismacolor pencils, seventeen of them to be exact.

Seventeen, and as smooth as butter and right within the budget of twenty dollars in my pocket.

I set my sketchbook down on the shelf so I could open the box and reveal those pencils, and I hoped to see them as sharp and new as I would ever see them. I'm usually easy going on all of my tools just out of the nature of the price range, but I wanted to make the roses on Chris as bold and fiery of red as possible. I took out the scarlet red one and opened the sketchbook for the inside cover and I paid no attention to the fact I held the box, open end sideways. Three pencils slid out from under me.

“For crying out loud,” I muttered to myself as I closed the cover and stooped down to fetch them.

“I hope those are nice ones,” a voice caught my ear behind me. I turned around to find him looming right there with me. The most stray tendrils of his inky black hair were tousled a bit even as he sprawled over his collar bones and the front of his black raincoat. I stood upright to meet up with his gaze: he towered over me, such that I could make out the sight of the first sprigs of hair sprouting upon the underside of his chin.

“Easy there,” he cautioned me, which he accompanied with a raising of his hands.

“It's alright,” I assured him, “social distancing hasn't been a thing in quite a while.”

“Nah, I don't mean that—I don't want you to drop any more pencils.”

“Oh!” I fetched up the pencils I had dropped on the floor and then closed up the box before I drop any more. He grinned at me, and I followed his gaze to the sketchbook perched atop the shelf.

“Is that yours, too?” he asked me.

“Why—yes.” I wasn't even flustered and yet I felt it even by his gestures and that gaze from those eyes. He stood so close to me, even with the pandemic behind us. I felt my face growing warm as I took the sketchbook off of the shelf. I forgot I still had it open to that sketched drawing of him; when I took it off of the shelf, I held the drawing of his face right before my chest.

He gasped right as I held it before me.

“Is—Is that me?” he inquiringly asked me in a soft voice.

“Huh?” I clutched at the sketchbook and held the drawing away from him.

“I don't wanna—be rude or intrusive or anything,” he swore to me. My face bloomed with warmth. It had been so long since I showed anyone one of my drawings from my sketchbook, much less anyone outside of my family. I whirled around to see the tender expression upon his face: his eyebrows raised a bit and his head bowed enough for me to wonder if he was flirting with me or not. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed through his nose.

I swallowed and then, gingerly, I turned the sketchbook towards him.

He lowered his eyebrows and brought a hand to his mouth as if he was shocked.

“Oh,” he breathed, “oh, wow, that's wonderful. I love the roses.”

I shrugged.

“I just felt you could use roses,” I confessed to him.

���I love it,” he admitted as he lowered his hand from his mouth. “I'd love to see it when it's colored in.”

“I gotta get some pencils first, though.”

“Have at it, girlie.” He gestured his open palm towards me as if giving me his blessing. I decided on the Prismacolor pencils—I also didn't see anything else that caught my attention. Within time, I made my way up front to break those twenty dollars even. I kept my sketchbook out in the open and I assured the young peppy clerk that I had already opened it and long paid for it. He lingered near the cash register and eyed the ceramic supplies at the front there. I never thought I would've met him there in that art shop and at such a strange time. I wondered if I could make my rapport with him as I paid for the pencils and awaited the change from the clerk there before me.

He met up with me on the other side with a pensive look on his squarish face. I slipped the pencils and the sketchbook into the plastic bag in hand so as to protect both from the incoming rain. I felt myself blushing again at the sight of him: it didn't help matters that he continued to tower over me.

“What's your name?” he asked me, that pensive look still riddled upon his face.

“Holly. As in Hollywood.”

“Hollywood…” He grinned at me. He took out the little burner phone from his jacket pocket: such a sight to see, what with technology the way it had progressed to that point.

“Holly Sherman is my whole name...” My voice trailed off as I watched him open the address book up to a fresh page for a fresh number.

“You want my number, don't you,” I teased him.

“Well, yeah. When the drawing's colored in, I wanna see it.”

I could not resist that offer, and it was that very moment I knew I would have something on my hands. I would have something on my hands even in the wake of the pandemic.

[sergeanttpoliteness]

idk if you’re taking requests or anything, if you aren’t ignore this, but if you are I would die for a classic, upside down spider-man kiss with the loml spider-noir. poor guy would probably be very surprised at first but suddenly its his favorite thing to do. thanks I love you and your work!!

AND➝ mayhaps…. a first kiss with noir? if u have time! 

sorry for answering so late nonnies! i feel so bad about that, i promise i wasn’t ignoring y’all. same goes to the few other requests i have in my inbox right now! 

——-

➹ inconvenient feelings➹ (spider-noir x reader)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: can you tell i had no idea what to call this lol. i didn’t edit either bc… oof. i’ve been struggling a lot with writer’s block (nothing new, honestly lmaoo) lately and someone close to me recently passed away and i haven’t quite… been able to wrap my head around it?? i don’t know, not to be a little bitch but this week consisted of a lot of school stuff, emotions, and anxiety so thanks @ the people who requested this bc i needed to write some wholesome stuff. also thx at my bestie for helping me out w ideas, ily broz. anyway, there’s some minimum ripeter x reader although it’s solely platonic! hope you all have a lovely week (:

taglist: @marvelousmorales

It’s not convenient. Convenient was that one person with the pretty smile whose eyes seemed to possess an affinity to him that one time at a jazz club, or the singer with the honey voice and smooth runs more soothing than the late night singing of a mother to her child. A poor goon who smooched his fist whilst it collided with his face could even fit the designation, really— but what mattered, the simple component they shared, was that all three were just a speck in a sea with no end; an eternal blue void with only more possibilities hiding in the pitch-black depths neither he nor the light’s fingertips could touch. They were safe. Uncomplicated.

Peter stared out the window, at a completely distinct world, far from a city in a vintage film: the ongoing the mechanical song of speeding cars, the newer and taller lit up buildings, the blinking golden lights, identical to a field of a thousand miniscule suns. This was not convenient. It’s… so different— like day and night, water and fire. This meant to swim out of the ocean he belonged to and reach for a foreign land, to run after a mere drop of water when a whole fucking body existed behind him. It’s not safe. It’s complicated.

Your sleepy eyes roamed the same page for the fifth time with no precise purpose, more disoriented than a newcomer in a large city until they traveled and spotted their true destination: Peter’s own sight deeply engulfed in the view outside, the twisting of his brows every now and then filling your mind with wonder and curiosity at what could possibly be running through that brain of his. You could’ve continued with the ogling like the damn creep you were (seriously, you gotta stop it with that, you told yourself), but you slipped and made a mistake— the most laughably absurd misstep— worse than trying to take a picture of a stranger and then, to your utmost terror, the flash going off— which wouldn’t have occurred in the first place if you’d paid your electricity bills on time. Your apartment wouldn’t have been plunged into darkness, and you wouldn’t have, without thinking, your head clearly not in its right place at the moment, slightly tilted your phone and directed your phone’s flashlight right at the side of his face. You quickly pulled the beam of light away, as if that would work; however, his gaze drifted to you. “Sorry.” You blurted out, acting casual and pretending to focus on the journal on your lap. “You were so quiet, I thought you had fallen asleep.” You lied.

“No, I’m awake.” He said, furrowing his brows to himself— of course you already knew that. You mumbled a small ‘good’, holding the notebook close to your face, like a child staring through the window of a pet shop at some puppies, shining the ‘smartphone’, he’d learned, over the pages. You bit your lip, your shoulders shaking with your surfacing laughter.

“Oh, man, this one’s so dumb.” You snickered before running your finger up the paper, clearing your throat. “October 8th, 1999. Today I came back from my camping trip with Peter, Ben, and May. We ate a lot of s'mores— Uncle Ben makes the best! We also told some scary ghost stories, and I even made Pete scream. It was awesome. You will not believe what happened!” You read the last sentence with a dramatic tone, similar to that of a terrible news headline from a sketchy website, making yourself more comfortable on the L shaped bench seat and leaning into Peter’s side.

Peter tensed at first, but slowly, he pushed himself to relax after you rested your head on his shoulder, a quiet voice in the back of his head speaking against his desires, echoing the terrifying thought that he could get used to this. “I don’t know, enlighten me: what happened?” He asked, amused. You lifted your finger, eyebrows raising gradually, building up the suspense. He waited, and waited, and waited, until, finally—

“I have to go eat dinner. I’ll tell you later.” You finished with an unhumorous voice and a poker face. Yet again, he awaited in silence, interested. Man, you took this suspense thing quite seriously— wait.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?!” He looked down at you and you nodded. “Oh, c'mon! You just gonna leave the reader hanging like that?”

You shrugged, wearing a shit-eating grin, loving his genuine disappointment as you flicked the page. “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, what malarkey!” He laughed softly. You crinkled your nose— malarkey. What a dork.

You resumed scanning the barely discernible handwriting, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Alright, this one does have an ending.” You sat up, rolling your shoulders back only to go back to your position of hunching over the journal. “April 3rd, 2000. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long, I forgot I had this journal. Something crazy happened.”

“The end.”

“Shut up.” You shushed him, shaking your head. “'I hung out with Peter today. We rode our bikes, had a race down the hill near my house, and I also got a butterfly to land on my finger. Man, I love insects!’ …and I still do.” You smiled and he glanced down at you, his mouth twitching. A peculiar glow in his chest grew, fueled him after he recognized that you felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with him; an insight on the stories that carved you into the person that you were today, the being that made every classy, pearly white grin and musical prodigy so boring, so undesirable.

You shuffled on your bum to turn and face Peter, continuing, “We came back home to play some more. We were sitting in front of the TV when, suddenly, he said my name, and like a normal person would, I looked at him…” You inclined forward, voice quieting, looking up at him.

“You won’t believe what happened.”

His eyes darted heavenward and he groaned. “Oh, lord.”

“He kissed me!” You cried out, with as much emotion that past you spilled onto the paper with the five exclamation marks and the three times you underlined the sentence. You slammed the notebook shut and let out a strangled clamor. “I still remember it very clearly. It was just a peck, but he fucking… smashed his mouth into mine, it hurt so much and my lip started bleeding and everything.” You giggled, abashed, rubbing your eyes.

Peter’s brows rose with surprise, pondering how an alternate seven-year-old version of him from another universe had more balls than him. He had to admit, though, the scene playing in his head was more entertaining than unfortunate. “And what’d you do?” He questioned, his mouth twitching.

“He was just curious and wanted to see what kissing someone was like, so we promised we wouldn’t talk about it ever again. He was so embarrassed, though, and felt so bad for making me bleed that he almost started crying.” You recalled, chuckling as you eyed the cursed diary one last time and placed it beside you. “What an idiot. I miss him.” You sighed, peering up at him, grinning. “What was your first kiss like, huh?”

It was comical, almost, the raging blush that trickled his face, the greyish tint screaming for the world’s attention. It was just a Peter Parker thing, you guessed: blushing like there was no tomorrow. “Uh, my first kiss?” You nodded. “Well… it happened when I was eighteen.”

You put the side of your head against the wall, eyes going round, your inquisitiveness close to that of a kid listening to a grandparent’s story. “Was it romantic?” You wanted to know everything: who the person was, the place, the context. Did he enjoy it? Did he make the move? And if so, then was there a chance that, maybe…

Unlike you, he did not have much interest in the subject; he stuttered, searching for a way to move on from the memory before he imploded. “I don’t, I don’t think anyone’s first kiss is romantic.”

You squinted at him, noticing his obvious attempt at dodging the question, but chose to spare him. Just for a few milliseconds, though. “Have you ever had… a perfect kiss?” You said, unsure of how to word such a silly question. He shook his head and you hummed, silently taking in a quick breath, your gaze moving to your right. “Have you thought about what you want it to be like?”

Should he say it? He wanted to. He really did. But he couldn’t, even if his eyes almost flickered down to your lips. “Who thinks about that?” He muttered. Perhaps he had. Perhaps he’d been guilty of having the thought slither into his mind once or twice— possibly more than just that. Perhaps it’d pestered his mind as of recent, like that damn small scratch on his glasses that won’t go away no matter how many times he tried to wipe it away as if that would even help. Perhaps it returned as you unconsciously licked your lips and raised your shoulder, a bashful grin growing on your face.

“I have, when I’m bored. An upside down kiss with a cute guy.” You admitted, your eyes narrowing afterward, only just now realizing how bizarre the idea was once you said it aloud. Your impatience throbbed in your head so badly you didn’t mind the embarrassment as much, though. You really were doing this, huh? “I think I found the cute guy.” You hinted, your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

He understood the insinuation, of course he did. But what better way to run from your feelings than close his trembling hand into a fist, pretend to be clueless, and act like an idiot?

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

Didn’t think he was so stupid, you grumbled in your head, masking your faint irritation. You pressed your lips together, sight on your cushions. “Someone I like quite a lot.” You vaguely said, voice distant. “Though I don’t think you’d understand— you’re not one to fall in love, no?”

It was half a joke but half a real question, one with solely one right answer you yearned to hear from him if you got lucky enough. Peter blinked nervously, fear burning in his stomach, clenching his insides as his tongue dared to break free from his control, from his cowardly spell. “Lately I’ve had someone in mind.” He breathed out, close to breaking out in a sweat. He watched how your eyes dimly lit up, hesitance impeding the light from fully glowing.

“Really? And who is this ‘someone’?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Tell me.”

“Not now.” He gulped. You pouted, begging with your eyes. “N-no.”

“Are you ever gonna make a move?”

Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, feeling dizzy just by thinking about it; the downfall of the relationship once the distance became too much, once the malaise with no cure finally rotted the adoration, infested the heart, decayed it. “No.” Same answer. Same bedeviled word that boomed in his head whenever his emotions were close to getting the best of him.

“Why haven’t you done it yet?” You whispered, not caring anymore about how obvious you were

being. He frowned. Why hadn’t he done it yet?

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Why not?”

Why not? His own thoughts repeated, betraying him. The confusion unlatched the cage, released all the questions and doubts about his reasons and dread. They crowded his brain, rang in his ears. “It’s… it’d be too hard to keep the relationship alive.” He retold more to himself and the storm of interrogations than you.

Your brows snapped together, your own fear knocking on the door again. “Is it not worth it to try, though?” It’s what you’d told yourself: the antidote to unfreeze your limbs and wave goodbye at the concern hanging in there, because… was it not?

In the overwhelming haziness, he finally looked at you. It’s what he needed to come upon a realization, a truth he knew all along but crumbled and threw away. Everything hushed, one single, final phrase in the quiet of it all.

Convenient wasn’t what he wanted.

“It is.” He said under his breath.

You heard him, and your eyes twinkled. “Well, then make the move.”

He couldn’t help it anymore. His eyes found your lips.

“I will.”

You stared at each other for a moment, anticipation never more warming than right then as it fluttered in your chest. To your biggest disappointment, he broke eye contact and stood up. “Close your eyes for a moment.” He ordered, his face indistinguishable in the dark now that he was further away.

“Creepy, but okay.” You huffed, your eyelids fluttering shut. “You better not be running away right now, you’d break my poor ol’ heart.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not the case.” You heard him say. You trusted him, which could’ve been a terrible choice. The total silence that followed didn’t put you to ease at all, honestly. Maybe you annoyed him so much with your questions that he was about to murder you, and if that’s what was happening, you were quite sad, to say the least.

Your eyelids were itching to open and you lifted a brow, straining your ears to distinguish any sign of his presence. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not gonna believe what’s about to happen.”

You snorted at his reference, but his voice was… oddly close. You opened your eyes, and— “Oh, fuck!” You yelped and jumped back in your seat. Damn right you weren’t gonna believe what was about to happen, for Peter dangled from the ceiling right in front of you, upside down.

“Is it too much of a strange idea? I was going to simply stick to the ceiling upside down, but then I thought… that’d be… worse.” He clumsily explained. You looked up at the web he hung from, laughing in disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?” You repeated, but you weren’t mad— your large smile backed that up. You couldn’t figure out if it was a blush creeping up his face or if it was from the fact that he was upside down. Both, maybe.

“I’m making a move.”

You giggled, glad you confessed what you considered to be a perfect type of kiss to him or else you wouldn’t had witnessed how absolutely ridiculous he looked right now. “So you’re willing to help me check 'kissing someone upside down’ off my bucket list?” You smirked.

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure.”

You bit your lip, placing both hands on his head. “Alright, then.“ 

You leaned forward, the tip of your nose brushing against his chin. You softly kissed the area below his bottom lip to tease him, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. Not after so long. Quickly, he enclosed your own bottom lip with his mouth, lastly fully aware that inconvenient truly was magnificent.

[redhoodieone]

Don’t Tell Me Part 2

A/N: Okay…here we go! This chapter answers the burning, dramatic questions like: How did Jason and Y/N realize they’re in love with each other? What was their first time “making love” like? And, now that they know they’re having a baby, what’s next for them?

 Warnings: Language, smut, baby making…etc…

  Y/N’s Point of View I know I’m in a lot of trouble. I’d be stupid to ignore that I haven’t had my period in two months. It’s going on three months now, and it’s only a matter of time before anyone suspects I’m pregnant. All I wear is loose blouses and t-shirts, and black yoga pants to slim my little bump that’s beginning to show. But lucky for me, no one’s said a word. I’m living in a house full vigilantes and detectives and not one of them as figured it out yet; not even Alfred (who knows absolutely everything about everyone.) Just thinking about being pregnant is frightening enough. I honestly never thought I would be a mother since my own mother had abandoned me as a teenager, and I had lived off on the streets until I got a job at Bat Burger and could afford to live in a cheap apartment nearby. My own father walked out on us, before my mother bailed with her new boyfriend to Atlantic City. Ever since then, I knew families were stupid and only for those who are blessed and do nothing wrong ever. I was never exactly innocent as a kid. My history is as sketchy and dirty as any other scum in Gotham. I stole a lot as a kid, since I never got to have new toys or products, since mother and I were lower than low class. I have stolen clothes, makeup, sneakers, and even food when I felt I deserved better. It did feel good to steal, but once I got home with all my “new” stuff. I felt guilty, and awful even. So, maybe this was a punishment for me. Maybe this is what was going to happen since everyone in my family had fucked up more than once. I deserved it all, and I still do. I’ve even gotten myself pregnant...with a guy I’ve been fucking behind my boyfriend’s back for over a year. And to top it off, it’s his brother’s child...who I’m secretly in love with. When did it happen? How did it happen? And why did it happen? Since I can feel safe and tell the truth in my head, I suppose it happened the right after Jason’s birthday, after Tim and I made it to our one year anniversary. Dick, Tim, and Damian decided throw Jason a surprise party at the Manor. Jason had been complaining he didn’t want to do anything for his birthday, and even threatened his brothers if they planned anything, he would shoot them in their kneecaps (I love that kind of threat he would make lol) and make sure they wouldn’t patrol for a year. But of course, the brothers threw Jason the biggest and outrageous surprise party. Many people went, including Clark Kent and Lois Lane, as well as Jason’s best friends Roy Harper, Kori, Artemis, and Bizarro. I heard it was the biggest party since Bruce’s birthday party. But unfortunately, I couldn’t make it to the party. Many employees at Bat Burger were suffering from stomach flus, and I had to fill in and work overtime, including long nights. I was really disappointed. I really wanted to go and meet the other superheroes I’ve never met but only heard of, but I wanted to keep my job. Tim was really disappointed, too. I heard from Barbara that he mostly hung around his brothers all night, because he really wanted me there. If anything, I assumed Tim, Alfred, Bruce, and Dick missed me a lot. Damian was probably glad I didn’t show up to hang all over Tim. But Jason missing me? No fucking way. Especially since I figured he would have hooked up with Artemis or some other bimbo I don’t know about. But from what I heard from everyone; the party was a success. The food, drinks, and music was amazing, and everyone partied until one in the morning, before Alfred shooed everyone away because he was exhausted after preparing for the party. I had just gotten home around 2 that same morning; sweaty, sleepy, and sick of smelling like Joker fries. After a struggle, I managed to take a shower, and climb into bed for at least 6 hours until it was time to go back to work. My eyes were closed. My breathing is calm. I could just fall asleep until... “You missed my party.” I open my eyes, and quickly sit up in shock to see Red Hood sitting on the window sill. Jason was in complete Red Hood costume, and the way his body was facing me seemed tense and anxious. “I’m sorry I didn’t go. I had to work. A lot of people are sick with the stomach flu,” I explained. “It would have been better if you were there, though,” Jason replied, his voice scrambler making his voice deeper and a little more frightening. “How? All your friends were there, right?” I asked. I wonder why Jason’s acting more stranger than usual. “I seriously doubt my presence would have changed anything.” “It would have, believe it or not. I see you as a close friend. It just...it would have been better if you were there,” Jason said, his voice sounding painful. He stands and turns to leave, but I find myself jumping off the bed to stop him. “Wait! Just wait a minute!” There I was in my short dark blue pajama shorts and white tank top, dressed for bed in this hot August night. Red Hood finally turns to face me, his white lenses take me by surprise. I force myself to look up at him, and hope he’s looking back at me. “Why are you so upset about me not being there for your birthday party? Didn’t you have fun with your family and friends? Didn’t you enjoy the food, drinks, cake, and music? Didn’t you love all your gifts, even though you’ll bitch about them later, and all the other fun memories you made tonight? Didn’t you get everything you wanted?” I asked, pleading for him to see his birthday party wasn’t all so bad. He raises his hands up to his helmet, and removes it. I’m now face to face with Jason Todd. I can see his sweat covered face with some of his dark hair matted to his forehead. His blueish, grey eyes full of life and mischief, and the strong jawline that defines his handsome masculine features. He’s breathing hard, and his body trembles a bit. The pupils in his eyes dilate, when they find mine. “No, no I didn’t get everything I wanted, Y/N...” Jason’s voice breaks; it shatters my heart to see him in so much pain and anger. “Because what I want will never be mine.” “What are you talking about?” I barely whisper. “What do you want, Jason?” “All I want is you, doll.” Our lips touch. It was like fireworks were shooting throughout my body, from my toes to my head. His lips against mine felt perfect; as if everything in our lives were just normal and peaceful. The second Jason opens his mouth to mine, we savagely allow our tongues to mingle and search through each other’s mouths as if this was our last time to ever kiss. Savoring each other’s taste. Savoring each other’s touch. Savoring each other’s heat. The moment has me weak. “I want you too, Jay...” I whisper softly. Jason pushes me down on the bed, and straddles me. He lifts up my tank top, and dives down to suck, lick, and bite my nipples. He massages my breast, as he whispers how he loves me braless. Our mouths find each other’s again, and I take the initiative to roll us over so I can straddle him. I miss this. I miss skin on skin contact. I miss the heat between two bodies. I slip out of my pajama shorts and panties, so I’m completely naked on Jason. He growls and runs his hands all over my body. I moan louder at every touch. “Fuck Y/N...you’re so fucking beautiful...” Jason groans. He removes his boots, pants, shirt, and jacket in no time. Only in his boxers, I straddle him once more and I begin to grind against his hard bulge. We swallow each other’s moans through our kisses, and I can feel myself staining his boxers with my juices. I start kissing and licking his neck and chest until Jason lifts my head up. “Stop...” Jason pants. The guilt in his eyes says it all. He wants this, but he remembers why he can’t exactly do this with me. “What about Tim?” Tim. My boyfriend Tim? “Oh my God...what am I doing?” I ask, panicking to the point where I climb off him and cover myself with my sheets. “How could I be doing this to him? He’s my boyfriend. He’s my sweet loving boyfriend, and I’m doing this to him.” “I know, I can’t believe what I’m doing, either. As much as I give Timbo shit a lot, this is probably the worst thing I could do, and I don’t think I could do it,” Jason admits as well. “Tim’s such a great guy. He’s a good guy. He’s a nice guy and here I am, practically throwing myself on his hot older brother because I haven’t had sex in a year, and I’m horny as fuck!” I cry out loud. Covering my teary eyes, I curse myself for being such a slut. “I’m such a goddamn slut...” Jason’s hands remove my own from my face. There are tears in his eyes, too, and I wonder why he’s crying. “If anyone is at fault...I’m guilty as well. I mean, fuck!” Jason snaps, and kicks his boots to the wall. He frowns, and wipes his tears. “What kind of a brother am I? What kind of brother falls in love with his little brother’s girlfriend? I’m not fucking saying I’m a saint, because I know I’m not and never will be one, but this has got to be the most evil thing I’ve ever done. Tim’s...a great guy. He...gave me a second chance and has always been there for me and look at me now, I’m sitting next to the most beautiful and kind woman I’ve ever met.” Jason then moves to the floor, and pushes himself between my legs. His face is full of sadness, hurt, and love... “You...never judged me. You know about every horrific, devastating, and evil thing I have done, and yet...you still became my friend,” Jason whispers, his voice cracking at the end. “Why? Tell me why, Y/N. Why do you still like me even when I’ve never and will never like myself?” The tears fall from my eyes. “Because you want to be a good person, and that’s just as good as already being a good person in the first place,” I whisper back. Our teary eyes stay on each other’s, until our lips slam against each other’s. Our moans sound pained, and our hands grip each other’s bodies, and we fall back onto the bed. The sheets are off me, and feeling Jason on top of me is making me breathe harder. I run my hands over his strong muscular arms, and chest; feeling every hard inch of him. Jason quickly gets out of his boxers, and I practically whine when his thick, hard cock rubs against my pussy. “How long has it been for you?” he whispers in my ear, before kissing my neck. “A-a year,” I choke out. “Fuck doll...why hasn’t he touched you like this or take you the way I want to take you right now?” “I-I don’t know. Maybe I’m not...” I moan against his two fingers slipping into my aching, wet pussy, while his thumb rubs against my clit. “Maybe I’m not good enough for him.” Jason stops his movements, and looks into my eyes. “Don’t ever say that again, Y/N. You’re so fucking perfect. You’re so kind to those who don’t deserve it. You’re funny, smart, and you sure know how to get a guy’s heart racing. You’re so perfect that I don’t even know how someone like me can be on top of you...wanting to make love you until you can’t scream or walk anymore. If anything, you deserve the best.” “You deserve the best, Jay,” I say truthfully. “Then so do you, Y/N.” “But Tim just doesn’t want sex-“ “Then you deserve someone who can pleasure you the way you can pleasure them,” Jason says softly, as he kisses me once more. “Do you trust me, Y/N?” “I do...” I moan against his lips. “More than anyone...” Jason then slips inside me; stretching me to the fullest and stalling when our breathing is heavy. There’s no foreplay, no teasing, and no patience. With one arm supporting himself near my head, the other rubs against my hips, as I begin to meet his thrusts halfway. My hair is spread all out on the pillow, and I imagine my lips are red and chapped from our kissing, but Jason just watches me with hooded eyes. “Jaybird...” I moan out. A grin takes over his face. “Fuck! I love it when you call me that!” he gasps out. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he begins to really pound into me. The way his cock is stroking my walls, he’s hitting a sensitive but sensational spot that I need to feel now more than ever. “Baby girl...you’re so fucking tight and wet. I-I wanna stay inside you all the fucking time now.” I take the initiative to kiss him; more passionately than before. One of my hands caresses his faces, as he other run along his scars and bruises on his chest and shoulders. Jason pulls away to release a long, needy moan. “Oh God, Y/N...you’re so good to me...” Jason whispers against my lips. “You deserve it, Jay,” I whisper back. “But you’re just...Fuck doll, you’re so fucking good to me,” Jason groans, kissing me again, as he starts thrusting harder, faster, and deeper in me. One of his hands moves down and begins to rub fast circles on my clit. “I wanna feel you cum all around me, baby girl. I wanna make you cum so hard.” With Jason’s thumb rubbing harder against my clit, and his thick delicious cock continuously hitting my g-spot, I begin to breathe harder and my pussy clenches and unclenches tightly around Jason’s cock. I throw my head back onto the pillow, revealing my neck and chest for Jason to kiss as I cum all over his cock. My orgasm is strong, and it makes me wrap my legs around his waist painfully. “Jay! Oh God! Fuck!!!!” I moan louder. “Fuck doll, y-you made a mess all over my cock,” Jason pants, and squeezes my my hips while his last few thrusts are harder and faster than before. “Next time, I-I’m gonna eat your pussy and lick your cum off until you’re begging me to fuck you again and again.” His thrusts come to a sudden stop, and he cums inside me. Jason moans my name, and a list of swear words. He groans heavily, and kisses me until we’re both out of breath. Once he pulls out of me, Jason pulls me beside him, and cuddles with me. Jason kisses my forehead, and nuzzles his face into my shoulder and neck. I kiss his shoulder, and he finally gives me a serious look I’ve never seen before. “No one can ever know about this, Y/N.” “I know, especially Tim,” I agree sadly. The guilt already eating me alive. “But it’s not the last time we’re doing this right?” Jason asks, his grip tightens around me. “I don’t want this to be the last time,” I confess. “I don’t want it to be the last time either,” Jason admits. My eyes lock into his. “Jay...the way I feel about you...” “Y/N...” Jason pauses, and takes a deep breath. “Whether you want to hear this or not, I-I have to say it out loud or it’s going to fucking eat me alive. I love you, Y/N.” The way Jason confessed his love for me makes my heart beat faster to where I can’t breathe or think. I feel the same way, and as guilty as I already am, I have to be honest, too. “I love you too, Jason. I love you so much,” I confess, and our lips touch again. And that’s when we betrayed Tim for the first time. And it wasn’t the last time, either. I close the bedroom door, and I lie down to rest. Tim is out on patrol with Bruce, Dick, and Damian; while I have informed them I’m down with the stomach flu and need to rest up. My hand rubs the little bump that will soon hold and protect the baby I’ll have soon. A gloved band moves to mine, and touches the bump as well. “It’s...mine,” Jason whispers. He knows, and he’s stating it as if I have forgotten. “I know,” I reply. “When will we tell him? Tell all of them?” “I don’t know...” I respond, unable to keep my voice steady. Jason sits beside me, and kisses me. The way he kisses me calms the nerves, and the threatening storm of our guilt and mistakes above us, if only for a moment. “I...I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything. I love you, Y/N, and I’m going to love this child, too,” Jason admits, before he kisses me one more time before he puts on his helmet. I turn to watch Jason stand up in all his Red Hood glory, as he faces me one last time. “Tim will understand...if we tell him everything. He’s not a hateful guy, and I know it’ll be hard as fuck to regain his trust, but I seriously doubt shit’s going to hit the fan. Trust me.” And on that stressful note, Red Hood left. So...what do you think? Should there be a Part 3??? Let me know, folks! 

[novaeagle]

[ ● ] my muse catches yours snooping through their belongings.

A/N: I used your Hyur Fox for this, and I hope I didn’t take too many liberties with his actions/words. I tried to glean as much about him as possible from your Tumblr. Enjoy my late night answers lol.

Casimir didn’t know what to make of the odd Hyur he had found snooping in his gear. The boy wriggles in his grasp, having been lifted into the air upon being discovered, and was growling at Casimir. “Put me down ya great lump! What’d’ya think yer doin, eh? Man handlin’ a poor boy like me. Ye heartless adventurer’s always kickin’ us around like pests!”

“Silence, lad. I have no intention of hurting you. Tell me the truth and I won’t have to, but lie to me and you would wish I had handed you over to the Flames.” The reddish-orange haired boy quiets down, getting a gleaming look in his eye as Casimir questions him. “Why were you rifling through my stuff?”

“I’m famished, ser. Famished! I ain’t had a decent meal in days, and I gots my brothers and sisters to take care of to boot!” Casimir frowns at him, pulling him close so they were eye to eye, before shrugging, letting the boy drop to the ground on the other side of the fire.

“Very well. Sit. I’ll feed you, then, I’ll give you food for your family.” The man pulls out a few pieces of food, setting a small pan on the fure and tossing a bit of dried meat in it with a dash of water. Soon it was sizzling, filling the air with the smell of rasting meat. Casimir kept an eye on his charge, watching as he flicked his eyes from Casimir, to the food, then back to the man. He hadn’t been lying about being hungry, it was hard to get a decent meal, and this Adventurer was cooking for him! Even after catching him trying to steal! It only took a few minutes of cooking and adding various other ingredients to it, but soon the boy had a plate of food, a bowl of stew, a jug of mead and a hunk of bread sitting in front of him. He watched warily as the tall man sat on the other side of the fire, stretching his legs out and sipping on his own mead, and gnawing a piece of jerky. “Eat, boy, eat! A man can’t take care of his family if he can’t take care of himself! I have plenty left in my pack for them, and I can buy plenty more food when I get to Ul’Dah.”

The boy dug in, chewing and talking at the same time. “M’ fam’y is hidden. I don’ wan’ anyone fin’in’ them.” He was lying, Casimir could tell. He leaned forward,

“Do you really have a family?” The boy perks up, glaring back,

“Ah’ do!”

“Do? Or did?” The young Hyur tenses, glaring at the man as his hands start to shake a little. “I don’t care for lies, little one. You tell me the truth, I’ll take care of you, you lie to me, I leave you for the bugs. I will accept silence as an answer before I accept a lie. So... do you have a family?” The boy glares at him, and Casimir waits a heartbeat before nodding, “Eat. Then tell me only what you wish.”

It didn’t take long for the food to dissapear, Casimir didn’t make it akward either, by staring at him constantly, but he did talk some. About where he was going, about some odd monsters he had met, a job he had taken. Finally the boy sat back,

“I do have a family... I... don’t know where they are.” Casimir nods, and stays silent, waiting for him to continue. “Stealin’ has always been m’ job. From helpin’ crooks and criminals in Ul’Dah to havin’ to fend for m’self once their rings got destroyed. The Sultansworn have a new attack dog, some call him the White Demon. He’s a Dark Knight, but every piece o’ armor he wears is white. Pure white. An’ his sword is bigger than anythin’ I’ve seen.” Casimirs eyes widen, and he glances around warily. He leans back against his pack, feeling the edge of his armor dig into his shoulder blades. The thin pale white shirt he had on didn’t offer much protection, nor did the loose black pants he wore, but it did offer a disguise. “No one else will hire me, an’ I don’ have the skills for adventurin’ either.” The boy falls silent, taking a sip of his mead. Casimir knew this was all he was going to get from him, so he grabs his wineskin, pouring them both a new cup before sitting back,

“I’m on my way to Ul’Dah to learn how to use a sword and shield. I was a cook in Limsa, and was taught how to use the Axe fairly well while I was there as well.” He pulls out a well worn wood axe, the head a bit bigger than normal, designed for fighting instead of wood chopping, “I don’t plan on getting into anything too sketchy so the Sultansworn don’t notice me, but if Ul’Dah is anything like Limsa... it’ll be difficult.” The boy stares at him, and Casimir meets his gaze with a smirk,

“You’re lying to me.”

“Nope. Every word I’ve said is the truth, but... there were a lot of words I DIDN’T say.” Casimir smirks, and the boy frowns,

“You’re not from Limsa are you?”

“I’m from Dravania. I made my way through Limsa to learn how to cook and swing an axe, and now I’m on my way to Ul’Dah to learn how to use a sword and shield.”

“What’s your name?”

“Casimir.”

“Casimir...?” The boy paused, leaving his name opened ended but Casimir merely smiles at him, taking a sip of his mead. The boy huffs, “You have an interestin’ way with words Casimir.” He laughs, nodding,

“Yessir! There’s a whole language of subterfuge you need to learn as well, and Limsa has the Rogues guild, where you can learn aaalll about it as well. Now, what’s your name?”

“Fox.” Casimir raises his eyebrows, and Fox tries to copy his easy smile, taking a sip of his own mead. Casimir laughs again, reaching across,

“A pleasure, Fox.” The boy shakes his hand, the two exchanging grins,

“Indeed! Thank you for the food.”

“Of course. I’ve known what hunger is like too often to deny a meal to a starving person. What say you we travel back to Ul’Dah together? I could possibly set you up with the Gladiator Guild as well, we could train together.” Fox hesitates, blushing a little,

“I uuh... ran into some trouble with them.”

“With my weight behind your name, they could take you in.”

“... I’ll think about it... you leave a lot of words unspoken...” Fox stares at this man, wondering just how much ‘weight’ his name pulled. Casimir laughs again, cleaning up and repacking his gear,

“We all do, Fox. Maybe one day I’ll speak some of my unspoken words.” Fox merely hums, helping clean his own dishes and handing them to the man as he throws his pack on his back. “Before we get in sight of Ul’Dah, here.” He places a bag of Gil in the boys hands, “I don’t care if you have enough to survive, use that to buy some better gear and equipment for yourself because you owe me still. I fed you after I caught you trying to steal from me, by all rights you should be in the Flames hands right now.” Fox bristles,

“I don’t owe you-...” Casimir was right, he did feed him, and he did spare him from that. “I don’t care.”

“You will when you hear how you can repay me.”

“I don’t-“

“The Syndicate is going to be moving a few million gil from Ul’Dah to Gridania, a large Caravan will leave from the Sultanas Gate and head along the road, guarded by his own private army. It’s a ruse. A smaller wagon will head out the night before through the Gate of Thal, going along backroads, and will have two mercenaries guarding it, a driver and a Gladiator. Someone could easily sneak into it as it exits the gates and take what they want.” Fox stares at the man,

“And you want me...”

“Take what you want... then make sure that wagon never reaches Gridania. They’re going to bribe Gridania to give them more land for their homes, and for their... sciences. I don’t want that to happen.” Fox stared at the man as he started walking away, and scurried to catch up.

“Say I accept your offer..” Casimir only glances at him, “How do you expect me to take on two mercenaries?”

“Easy. They’ll be going through a tunnel after they pass by the Dispatch Yard. Get off, and shout something about the White Demon you mentioned earlier. They’ll panic and hopefully flee. If not, you’re a smart boy. You can think of something.” Fox hums, then nods slowly,

“Aye, I can think o’ somethin’...”

[nextcassie]

Your Scent 4

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the shit storm that was your junior year of college. Discovering you were an omega was only the first discovery in a long line of complicated ones. Thank goodness Min Yoongi was there to help.A story about college and discovering what you like and don’t like in both romantic relationships and friendships.

Abo Au - University AU

Pairing: Main-Min Yoongi/Reader ; OT7/Reader

Chapter words: 5128

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Scent Marking, Marking, Mating/Bonding

 Scent marking is done by rubbing the gland in your neck against another person’s. The gland is located on the right side of the neck, where the neck meets the shoulder. Scent marking happens in a few different situations. The most common is that when children are still young their parents will scent mark the child to keep them calm and remind them that they aren’t alone. The other most common is between individuals who have a close relationship, normally romantic or as heat partners. Some friends may do it to help their friends during times of distress, but it’s pretty uncommon and usually only done between omegas.

 Marking is done by leaving a physical mark without breaking skin, so basically a hickey or love bite on the scent gland. This is done solely by individuals who are linked either romantically or are heat partners. Marking partners during heat is preferred because normally after being marked for a month or two their heat cycles or rut cycles will sync, making it easier for the individuals involved. Marks can be any color really. They just look like a discoloration on the skin, some are purple, pink, or even white if the person has dark enough skin.

 Mating and bonding are essentially the same thing. Mating just refers to the traditional couples one would normally see and bonding refers more to anybody who has chosen to become tied together. You’ll notice that Jimin tends to use mate as most South Koreans would because it’s more of a traditional country as opposed to the reader who uses bonded who is originally from the United States. A mating or bonding mark is created by biting the scent gland and breaking skin. This mark remains on the skin unless someone chooses to get it surgically removed. It also tends to combine the scents of the two people who have mated.

 OO00OO

It was the Tuesday after Jin’s party and you were absolutely dreading your music composition class. How could you possibly look Yoongi in the eyes? You had really let yourself go… all over his thigh.

You shook your head, but didn’t really have time to dwell on it. You took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. You let out the breath you were holding in when Yoongi wasn’t there.

 “(y/n)!”

 You turned confused at hearing your name. You didn’t know anyone in this class.

 You saw a very cheery looking Kim Taehyung waving at you from what was normally one row in front of where you sat. He was sporting a boxy smile and messy bed head. You walked over to him.

 “Hello Taehyung…ssi,” you said. He laughed at that.

 “I am the same age as you and Jimin so drop the formalities,” he said, waving it off. “Come on sit by me. Normally no one does.”

 You moved to sit next to him. It’s not like it could be any worse than sitting next to the two girls you were sitting with before.

 “I didn’t know you were in this class,” you said. “I thought Jimin said you were a theater major?”

 “Oh I am, but on the off chance that I ever want to write a musical or something this class would be pretty helpful.”

 You hummed in agreement. You were about to respond, when your words died in your mouth when Min Yoongi walked into the room. He was looking as handsome as ever with his messy black hair and oversized sweatshirt and ripped jeans. You cleared your throat uncomfortably adverting your eyes and began to take out your stuff.

 You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with Min Yoongi the entire class. You felt so awkward. To make matters worse is that Taehyung didn’t notice it at all. The guy was totally in his own world. You didn’t even think he was listening to the lecture.

 When the class was over you both gathered your things to leave. You thought it would be as simple as that, but Taehyung had other plans.

 “Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung greeted, walking toward Yoongi. His hand found its way around your wrist and he lightly tugged you after him.

 The two of you ended up in front of Yoongi as he stood relaxed at the front of the room.

 “Taehyung, (y/n),” He said nodding his head in greeting.

 You nodded your head back before suddenly finding the wall behind him appealing. You felt like your face was heating up as his gazed lingered on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his eyes, knowing your mind would flash back to the way his skin felt against yours.

 “I need help with my homework,” Taehyung said.

 “We live together,” Yoongi said. You could hear the scoff in his voice at Taehyung’s words.

 “But, so does (y/n),” Taehyung cut in. You turned to him eyes wide and that’s when you noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes. You turned back to see a skeptical looking Yoongi.

 “Taehyung, you need to stop dragging people into your ridiculous plans. Her expression is telling me she had no idea that you were going to ask for that.”

 “Heh, figured it was worth a shot.” Taehyung shrugged his shoulders.

 “That being said, if you ever need help you can just message me,” Yoongi said, looking at you.

 “I don’t have a way to do that,” you replied.

 “Can I see your phone for a second?” Yoongi asked.

 With little hesitation, you handed it to him. He opened it and he raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the screen.

 “No lock?”

 “I’ve got nothing incriminating on my phone, so I don’t see a reason to have one.”

 “If you’re going to continue your friendship with Taehyung I would recommend it.”

 “Hey!” Taehyung protested, but Yoongi cut him off.

 “All of my contact information should be entered. Never hesitate to call if you need anything.”

 For the first time in a while you met his eyes and saw how serious he was. Min Yoongi would definitely keep his word and come if you called him.

 “I will if I need anything.”

 Yoongi offered you a small smile.

 “Well, I have to get going so I’m not late to work, but I trust that the next time I see the two of you, your homework will be done.”

 “Yes sir!” Taehyung said with a laugh.

 Yoongi left and you and Taehyung left after him.

 “You know I get it now,” Taehyung said.

 “Get what?” you asked.

 “The reason that you and Yoongi hyung are Jimin’s new OTP,” he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well see you soon!”

 Before you could say anything, Taehyung left you behind. You let out a sigh. You definitely weren’t prepared for the shit storm that is Kim Taehyung.

 OO00OO

  “Hyung, I need a favor.”

 Yoongi glanced at Jimin who was on the couch across from him in his dorm. He had claimed that he was waiting for Taehyung to arrive, so that the two of them could go out to eat. Jimin had come into his dorm about thirty minutes ago and Yoongi wasn’t oblivious to the looks the other was giving him. Truth be told the following weeks after the party Yoongi had felt a little awkward around Jimin. How does one tell Jimin that they have the hots for his new best friend and roommate?

 “What is it?”

 “I need one of your leather jacket and… maybe a pair of your boxers.”

 Yoongi scoffed.

 “Why? Your heat was last week. Besides normally you borrow Jungkook’s stuff.” Yoongi caught the twinkle in Jimin’s eyes and knew that he was in trouble.

 “Oh, it’s not for me.” The smirk on Jimin’s face was enough to make Yoongi weary. “I’ve got a friend who wants to use it.”

 “That’s not sketchy at all. Why exactly would I do that?”

 “Maybe because if you did then you might get to be their next heat partner.”

 “I don’t know them, so I’m not interested.”

 “Oh trust me you would be interested if you knew who they were.”

 “I don’t suppose you’re just going to tell me who it is?”

 “I promised them I would keep their identity a secret.”

 Of course, Jimin did. Three of Yoongi’s friends happened to know way more people than they should, Jimin was one of those people. Although Jimin was undoubtedly somewhat shy at first, it didn’t take long for other people to warm up to him. So, he had a lot of friends around campus. He was also an orientation leader last year and interacted with a lot of people during that time. It would be hard to try and figure out who this friend was.

 “Come on hyung trust me!”

 “The last time I trusted you with something like this I never got my jacket back.”

 “Not true! (y/n) gave you your jacket back.”

 “This and that are two different things. That was an emergency and she wouldn’t let go.”

 “Don’t lie you liked it! You were all brimming with alpha pride about helping her the next day.”

 “Jimin, you’re being ridiculous.”

 It was at that moment that Yoongi’s other roommate, Hoseok walked in carrying a duffle bag with his dance stuff. Yoongi let out a sigh of relief and Hoseok just looked at them both confused.

 “What’s got the two of you so heated?” Hoseok asked. He walked over to his room and chucked the bag into it without a second thought. He walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and came back.

 “Yoongi won’t let my friend borrow his leather jacket for their heat!”

 Yoongi scowled at Jimin. It was like the other was tattling on him to get him in trouble.

 “I value my leather jackets and don’t lend them to anyone.”

 “Yeah, but you wear them all the time so your scent is really strong on them. That’s why I want to use it.”

 “Jimin, hyung really likes those jackets…” Hoseok defended.

 “My friend is going to suffer without them!”

 “Then they can ask someone else,” Yoongi protested.

 “That’s just it. They don’t want someone else’s stuff they want your stuff.”

 “Can I propose a solution?” Hoseok asked. The two of them turned to him. “Hyung why don’t you just wear a sweatshirt all the time in the dorm to make your scent really strong on it and then Jimin can give it to your friend. That way you can keep your precious leather jacket and Jimin’s friend is still helped.”

 “I’d be willing to do that,” Jimin said. He was grinning at Yoongi knowing that he had just won the battel.

 “Fine.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “If I don’t get my sweatshirt back I’ll never trust you again.”

 “Deal! Now about that underwear…”

 Why did Yoongi ever think being friends with Park Jimin was a good idea?

 OO00OO

 “<em>So why are we buying all these baking supplies</em>?” Mark asked.

 He grabbed the flour you needed from the top of the shelf and placed it in the cart.

 “<em>For some reason the last time I had my heat I was craving these Christmas cookies my mom used to make</em>,” you responded.

 “<em> Ah… that explains what all this is</em>,” Mark said, glancing at the cart.

 There were two different sheets as well as a new mattress cover that protects the mattress from liquid. You weren’t going to let your second heat take you buy surprise this time. You were going to be fully prepared this time.

 “<em>My heat is in a few days</em>.”

 “<em>Oh I’m well aware of it. I can smell it on you</em>.”

 “<em>That’s weird and a bit creepy</em>.”

 “<em>I can’t help it. It’s an alpha thing. I also have a better sense of smell than most, so it’s just something that’s obvious to me</em>.”

 “<em>Don’t worry I know. I guess I’m still getting used to the fact that people can scent me better now that I presented. It was weird when Jimin just looked at me this morning and said ominously that I needed to start preparing for my heat</em>.”

 “<em>Did you… umm… did you decide to uhh…</em>”

 You wanted to laugh at how hilariously awkward Mark was. Compared to Jackson who was normally loud and blunt, Mark was pretty mild and tactful with his words. You had maybe only seen him mad once, even then saying mad was a stretch. He was actually more annoyed than anything. He did sometimes find it hard to ask personal questions and it came more so from him not wanting to be intrusive than out of embarrassment. He always tried to respect others. He said it was something that his father instilled in him from a young age and he would never be able to unlearn it. However, sometimes you wished he would ask a bit more of you or tell you more personal things about himself. He just wasn’t the type of guy to share all his secrets though.

 “<em>No I decided that I wanted to try and handle my heat on my own. It’s only a quarter heat, so it should be pretty mild</em>.”

 “<em>I guess there’s no not awkward way to ask this, but do you need something with my scent on it</em>?” Mark asked. He scratched the back of his neck. “<em>An alpha scent is supposed to help a lot. After your friend yelled at me I sort of did some reading up on omegas because he was right. Jackson and I never really knew too much about omegas. Just the stuff that’s in sex ed class. We both have only dated betas. All the things I read said that an alpha scent really helps, especially if the omega feels comfortable with the scent. I figured we’re good friends, so it might help</em>?”

 Mark kept babbling on about the things he had learned and really it was endearing. Mark had always been the silent caring type that sort of tried to do nice things for people behind their backs. The question was, would you need something with Mark’s scent? Jimin had promised you he would get something for you with Yoongi scent discreetly, but he hadn’t said anything about it for a few days now. You didn’t know if that meant he couldn’t get something or not.

 “<em>I’ll get back to you about that</em>,” you replied.

 “(y/n)?” a voice asked.

 There with a shopping cart in front of you was none other than Yoongi. He was dressed casually in ripped jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Standing next to him was a mildly confused looking beta that you had never met before.

 “Yoongi…sunbae,” you greeted hesitantly.

 Yoongi wasn’t really paying attention to that though. There had been a secret part of him hoping that the person who wanted his scent was you. However, he doubted it was considering the tall and handsome alpha standing right next to you. The alpha himself seemed like a slightly awkward person, but you were perfectly at ease being next to him. Normally, any omega who smelled like they were so close to heat would be careful of who to keep around them. The way the other alpha was staring him down as if he was sizing him up was also an indication that said alpha must be close to you.

 ��Hi, I’m Hoseok,” the beta said, catching everyone’s attention. “I am one of Yoongi’s roommates.”

 “Nice to meet you,” you replied. “I’m (y/n), Jimin’s new roommate. This is my friend Mark.”

 “Ah you’re the one Taehyung keeps saying is trying to steal Jimin away from him.”

 “Oh I didn’t have to steal him away, he came to me on his own,” you joked. “Well, I’ll leave the two of you to shop. Have a nice day.”

 You and Mark walked away. Yoongi was thankful you were out of ear shot when Hoseok spoke again.

 “You know you like her right? You were totally sizing up the other alpha.”

 “Shut up.”

 OO00OO

 You glanced around the room to make sure that you had thoroughly prepared everything. You had asked all your roommates for advice and they had been more than happy to give you some.

 Mina had said that it was always smart to keep a tub of clean water and some soap in the room. If you ever wanted to shower, but weren’t sure you could make it to the bathroom to shower, it would come in handy.

 Dahyun had suggested that you buy a small minifridge. It put quite a dent in your wallet, but the idea of being able to have some fresh food and cold drinking water in your room was to enticing to refuse.

 Jimin had been the one to suggest making sure there were plenty of blankets in case you felt the need to nest. He said that he normally can’t settle down without the comfort of the soft fabric on his skin, making him feel secure and protected.

 You had taken all their advice and invested in them.

 “(y/n)!” Jimin called, from the doorway of your room.

 When you turned to face him, he was wearing his mischievous grin on his face. In his hand was a plastic bag with the same sweatshirt that Yoongi had been wearing when you ran into him and Hoseok at the store yesterday.

 “Do you love me of do you love me?” he asked.

 “I greatly appreciate you Mighty Park Jimin,” you said.

 Jimin walked over to you and glanced around the room. He nodded his head approvingly at how you had prepared your room for your heat.

 “Make sure that you keep it in the bag until you hit your heat,” he told you. “Also, as tempting as it is to try and rub your scent gland against the sweatshirt don’t do it. It will just make Yoongi’s scent on it disappear. Also, Mark texted me and asked if you still needed something with his scent on it.”

 “When did the two of you become such good friends?” you asked.

 “We’re not really. We both just seem to have relatively good motherly instincts.”

 “Ha… I’d love to see Mark’s reaction to your words. Well, I’m going to turn in for the night.”

 “Goodnight! Sleep well!” Jimin set the bag down on your desk before leaving the room.

 You stared at it before getting ready for bed. You figured it was best to try and get all the sleep you could before your heat hit.

 It felt like just an hour after you fell asleep when you woke up with a squeezing heat in the pit of your stomach. You felt more than heard yourself whine at the discomfort. Your night shirt now sticking uncomfortably to your skin and your hair starting to dampen with sweat.

 You found yourself peeling off your clothes, determined to get over this wave of your heat. It was only a quarter heat, so if you tried you could probably be done with it by late afternoon.

 Despite the blossoming discomfort in your core you forced yourself from your bed to get the bag on your desk. When you got there opened the bag the comforting scent of pine trees filled your senses.

 You found yourself sinking to the ground despite the fact that your bed was only a meter away. At least this time you knew what you were doing.

 You brought the sweatshirt up to your face while your other hand slid down your body. You felt your whole body react to the feather light touch of your finger across your clit.

 You tried to ease your way into it slowly pressing two fingers to your clit and drawing circles on it. However, with the next inhale of Yoongi’s scent you found yourself rubbing circles harder and faster. Soon you weren’t even thinking about your hands. You were thinking of the way his hands had firmly guided you to grind against. The way his deep voice had felt as he instructed you patiently. You were surprised at how much you wanted him to be the one touching you instead of yourself.

 You knew that when you came to the memory of his breath ghosting against your neck you were seriously in trouble. Especially because the thing you longed for the most was how gently he had held you at the party.

 OO00OO

 “There she is!” Jimin greeted.

 He was currently in the kitchen cooking what smelled like ramen. Which wasn’t surprising considering Jimin almost never cooks real food.

 “Here I am,” you said, with a smile. “Where’s Mina and Dahyun?”

 “Mina’s rehearsing in the practice rooms and Dahyun went out to dinner with friends. So… you’re stuck with me. So I want to know, how was the heat?”

 “It was about what I expected…”

 “Did you use the vibrator?”

 “No, I didn’t have to,” you replied. You felt your face heat up. “Yoongi’s scent was enough to get me through it.”

 Jimin’s eyes widened before he smiled at you.

 “So are you going to admit you like him now?”

 “No, but I’ll admit I’m attracted to him.”

 “Tell you what, I’ll get you a meeting with him. See if I can get him to be your heat partner.”

 “Jimin, you don’t have to—”

 “Call it an odd instinct, but I want to. It’s not really… common for Yoongi to go out of his way for total strangers. Yoongi would have saved anyone in the same situation as you, but he definitely wouldn’t always show the same amount of interest that he has been. Personally, I think he spends too much time by himself, so the fact that he seems so comfortable wants to make me at least try. Let me try?”

 You studied Jimin for a moment, seeing how serious he was. Although you had only known Jimin for a short amount of time you felt like you could trust him. He had gone out of his way multiple times to help you. He had made sure that you felt prepared for your heat and had even gotten Yoongi agree to giving you a sweatshirt with his scent on it.

 “I guess if you want to you can…”

 OO00OO

 Yoongi was annoyed to say the least. Jimin had been constantly asking him to meet with the person he had given the sweatshirt to for about two weeks. It had finally taken the threat of not giving him the sweatshirt back to motivate him to sit down for coffee with the person.

 He had arrived early and chosen a spot to sit down and scope out the coffee shop. Yoongi wasn’t a big fan of cafes because he wasn’t one for fancy coffee. He needed his coffee strong and black in order to function. His bad mood certainly wasn’t helped by the fact that he had only slept about two hours because he had been working on producing a new song for the company that he was working at.

 The last thing Yoongi wanted to do was to meet with some whinny person that probably wasn’t that interested in him. It was probably just the fact that he was an available alpha. Yoongi was also aware that because he didn’t radiate alpha other subgenders thought he was pretty easy to get with. Which wasn’t true at all, considering he wasn’t much of a people person to deal with.

 “Umm… Sunbae…”

 Yoongi had to stop himself from looking utterly shocked as the scent of peppermint flooded his senses. He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting you. Some part of him had hoped that Jimin’s mysterious friend was you, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up. However, here you were standing awkwardly in front of him with a bag that had his sweatshirt in it.

 “(Y/n)…”

 “Can I sit down?” you asked.

 Yoongi nodded his head not really sure what to say.

 “So you were the friend Jimin was talking about?”

 “Yeah… sorry for keeping it a secret. It was just kind of embarrassing to ask you directly.”

 “It’s truly nothing to be embarrassed about,” Yoongi stated.

 “Here’s your sweatshirt back. I’m sorry for keeping it for so long. Jimin thought it would be good leverage to get you to meet with me. I removed the scent and everything.”

 Yoongi felt slightly disappointed about that.

 “I figured that would be Jimin’s idea.” Yoongi paused for a moment. “Jimin said you were looking for a heat partner.”

 “I am… and I thought maybe you would be willing to be my heat partner?”

 Your words were unsteady and nervous, like you were expecting to be rejected. How could he reject you though?

 “I want to be your heat partner.” Yoongi watched as you were shocked by his words. Your eyes were comically wide and your mouth slightly open. He found it absolutely adorable. The fact that you expected him to say no was slightly concerning to him, but he would focus on that later. “When is your next heat?”

 “About two weeks…”

 “Mine is in about three weeks. What type of heat is it?”

 “A half one.”

 “Okay, my next one is a quarter. We need to go over some things. If you want the dorms will give me temporary access to your building, but it’s going to require some paperwork on your end. It would just allow me to come in if it happened in the middle of the night.”

 “Yeah we can do that.”

 “Also, I want to set up some boundaries with you. People tend to consent to things they normally wouldn’t during their heats and end up regretting it. I don’t want put you through that. So if you could tell me what you like that would be helpful.”

 Yoongi watched as you looked down at the table before you took a deep breath.

 “I don’t know. I’ve never had sex.”

 Yoongi was stunned to say the least. You were so attractive. Your personality was warm and you had the ability to be so playful. To him you were physically beautiful. The sparkle that appeared in your eyes when something made you happy. He had no idea how you were single and now he had no idea how someone hadn’t tried to get you in their bed all of these years.

 “Okay. Well let’s start off simple. What do you want to be called and what do you want me to call you?”

 “Umm… it would be easier to call you by your name if you don’t mind without the titles… I know it’s a little weird because of Korean standards but…”

 “No, it’s fine. Are you okay with being called omega?”

 “I don’t really know? I think it’s fine as long as I can call you alpha. Since its going to be my first time I want to experience everything I can. If you don’t mind I would like to try marking too…”

 Oh, he had no problem with that. In fact, Yoongi’s blood was stirring in excitement at the image his mind created of you lying naked beneath him with your neck bared to him.

 “Of course we can try it. If you want I can send you a list of things and maybe you can go through it and check off things you would like to try. It might make it easier. You also look like you’re about to die from embarrassment.”

 “Is it that obvious?” you asked. You finally offered him a smile and he returned it with a small one of his own. “If you don’t mind, I would also know what you like as well.”

 “That’s very thoughtful of you, but considering that this is your first time, I don’t want you to worry about it. If you want to help me with my next rut then we’ll worry about it. With the short amount of time you’ve been on your suppressants we should still use condoms. After your first heat we can talk about if you want to change that.”

 Yoongi had to keep the smile off his face as he realized you were definitely picturing what sex would be like without condoms. He felt a bit of pride at how attractive he was to you.

 “Yeah I would like that. I’ll get the paperwork to you soon okay?”

 “Okay. I have to get going to work. I’ll talk to you soon?”

 “Definitely.”

 Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile on his face or the new inspiration thrumming through him as he walked out of the coffee shop.

[lavieendonna]

Snapshot || ArtMajor!Ashton AU (Chapter 1)

Summary: A ‘Brushwork’ spinoff where Tillie - VCA’s resident library assistant - has to supervise Ashton - VCA’s holiday troublemaker - and she discovers that a collection of photographs is the biggest inconvenience she could have ever agreed to. Date: 7 Feb 2019 Requested: lol no  Pairing: Ashton x OFC (original female character)  Words: 4.9K Warnings: none! A/N: So this (and two other spin-off stories) have been in the works for... so long. It’s got a long way to go, and it’s still in an experimental phase. I wasn’t going to post this until Brushwork was completely wrapped up but I thought this might motivate me to finally tie the knot in the end of that. So let me know what you think, if you liked it, if you didn’t, if you want more... I could use all the love I can get! Big Love xo 

Ask | Masterlist | ‘Snapshot’ Spotify Playlist | Next Chapter | ‘Snapshot’ News | Brushwork

Chapter 1: Disappointed Soccer Mum 

‘So, are you coming out with us tonight?’ Wren asked, and I could tell that she was teasing me because she was already laughing at the thought of me going with her wherever, just waiting for me to say ‘no’. I rolled my eyes at the older girl, a small crooked smile finding my lips.

‘I’ll give you one guess.’ I laughed at her.

‘Thought so.’ She chuckled back, and I felt like a normal person would have been offended that Wren wasn’t in the least bit surprised that they weren’t going anywhere with her. But this happened every other night and had for nearly four years now, and we were both just used to this whole routine. Wren planned something fun, she offered for me to tag along, I politely declined and made my own entertainment for the night.

‘Well,’ Wren checked the silver watch dangling on her slender wrist before looking back down on me. I was sat at my usual spot in the very back corner booth of the restaurant, my things sprawled across the table. ‘Do you want anything before I clock off?’ I shook my head but smiled gently.  

‘I’m okay.’ I told her quietly. ‘I’ll grab some leftovers before I go upstairs.’

‘You make sure you do.’ Wren gave me a stern look with a matching pointed finger and I just nodded quickly, almost afraid to disobey (even though I knew I would). She had this habit of getting a little mothering toward me about this stuff. Actually, when I thought about it, everybody in the restaurant had the same habit when it came to me.

It made sense, I guess. Harvey owned the restaurant so he was, naturally, the head of this little family situation thing he and his staff had going – I was basically part of the furniture, the way I treated the restaurant like a living room, so I guess I was kind of included in all of that. Not to mention he and Queenie had just become first-time grandparents, so to Queenie I was like her third chance at parenting.

Wren was a little different; like me, she was single and lived alone –  but she was a few years older than me so she was entering that stage in her life where she just wanted to take care of somebody. I was still studying and had a bad habit of neglecting my basic human needs, so naturally I was the prime candidate for her to unleash her inner caretaker.

Wren was also essentially the closest thing I had to a “best friend”, and though she’d never explicitly said the words I knew that she was aware of how I’d ended up living in the flat upstairs. Harvey knew because he was my landlord, and Queenie knew because she was married to Harvey. But I really had this gut-deep feeling that the older couple had told Wren too. I didn’t mind too much; she never mentioned it. She and the bosses just hovered and mothered and asked me why I hadn’t eaten yet.

‘Did I just hear you turn down food?’

Queenie had come marching out of the kitchen, hairnet almost falling off of her head of greying black hair, and what looked like a tomato sauce covered wooden spoon sitting in the front pocket of her stained white apron. Her hands were on her hips, brow furrowed together with pursed lips, and I got the feeling this was what a disappointed soccer mum looked like when she stormed into the living room to find the kids playing ball in the house after she specifically told them not to.

‘Uh, yes?’ I nodded, not meaning for that to come out like a question. ‘I’m not hungry.’ That was clearly the wrong answer, I realised, as Queenie’s disapproving stare turned into one of bewilderment.

‘I haven’t seen you eat all day, Missy.’ The older woman scolded me. ‘It’s eight o’clock! You need to eat, you can’t keep starving yourself!’ I rolled my eyes, all in good faith. This was also a common occurrence.

‘I ate upstairs, I promise.’ I told her with a small, reassuring smile. ‘And anyway, I was just about to go home, right after I finish this email.’ Queenie shook her head at me, hands folding across her chest, hoop earrings hitting her neck with every shake. I could’ve bet everything I owned and then some that she was scolding me in her head. In Spanish. Loudly.

‘At least take some soup home with you.’ She said very pointedly, and before I got a chance to decline she’d taken off into the kitchen again to get the damn soup that, honestly, I probably was going to forget about and let it go off in the back of my fridge.

I chuckled quietly as I turned back to my laptop screen that was glowing bright in the dim mood lighting of the back of the restaurant. The feeling of Queenie making a fuss over me, while it made me kind of uncomfortable (even after all these years), ultimately still felt kind of nice.

The email in question, however, that sat unfinished on my screen, was starting to give me a migraine. I’d been trying to write it for a few days now, but every time I tried it sounded so… whiny. It sounded like a “why me?!” kind of email which, to be fair, was exactly what it was but I knew that there had to be a more professional way to word it.

Hi Leanne, I tried again.

I understand the situation; however, I feel that Carolyn or Stefan would be more suited for the task because…

And this was the part where I got stuck every time. I couldn’t say that Carolyn and Stefan had more experience than I did, because that wasn’t true. And I couldn’t say that I didn’t have time because Leanne was my boss and she’d been conspiring with the school’s Head Office and, you know, it was kind of their job to search me in the database and just knowthat when I wasn’t working in the library or in class that I had literally nothing else to do.

No, the truth was that I just really didn’t want to conduct community service in my library, supervising some delinquent dude who couldn’t sit still over the break. I enjoyed my solitude here, and I liked the quiet and I liked being on my own. I actually got things done when I was working alone, and if I had to babysit all semester then I could kiss all of that goodbye.

Hi Leanne, I tried one more time.

That’s fine. Please have him come to the service desk at the library at 12pm with his paperwork.

Thanks,

                Tillie Daniels

Well. So much for fighting the power. I hit send and prayed to God that I wouldn’t regret it. I mean, I already kind of did, so I guess I was hoping I wouldn’t regret it even more.

After packing up my things and begrudgingly accepting the damn soup that Queenie shoved under my nose in the plastic takeaway container, I waved goodbye and called out my farewells to the rest of the staff on my way through the kitchen before I pushed through the back door that lead into the back courtyard, headed for the metal stairwell just to the left and flush with the building.

When I first moved to Melbourne after getting accepted into VCA, I nearly dropped dead thinking I was going to have to live in the actual restaurant on a stretcher in a pantry somewhere – either that or worse; that Harvey and Queenie were going to kill me in the courtyard and feed my flesh to their customers. But, no, neither of those things happened. Instead I was shown what looked like a fire escape out the back. It still seemed sketchy to me, but against all better judgement I followed the Cook and his Wife up the rickety stairs and, lo and behold, I was pleasantly surprised.

The flat wasn’t overly big, but without the unnecessary clutter of furniture and the like it looked quite spacious for what it was. The two windows in the living area were big and wide and let in so much light I didn’t really know what to do with it all. They took up most of the far wall, and in front of them were a couple of cushion-clad bench seats – very FRIENDSstyle – and the thought of curling up on one of those with a good book and some coffee got me more excited than I’d been in years. The kitchen was on small side, but it had the most gorgeous white faux-marble benchtops I’d ever seen, and the bathroom benches seemed to match too which brought great peace to my inner OCD.

The bedroom was a modest size, although I did have to buy a hundred-dollar IKEA closet for the corner of the room. It did have a tiny ensuite attached to it, though, and the little window inside had a gorgeous view that was, probably, my favourite in the whole house.

It was like there were just layers and layers of mini horizons outside of the small rectangle. There were the tops of the trees that lined the street behind the restaurant, and then behind that I could see the tops of all the buildings and town houses of all the streets that lay behind that. Off in the distance was the silhouette of the Melbourne skyline, and beyond all of that was the rest of the sky that seemed to just stretch on forever.

I locked the deadbolt of the front door as soon as I walked inside, switching on the main lights as I somewhat floated through the flat putting my things away. The soup went straight into the fridge to be forgotten, laptop on the counter in front of the only barstool I owned and my bag hung on the back of my bedroom door. I finished tidying what little mess there was in the flat, and when I felt content, I flicked the kettle on and found a Bluetooth speaker to let some gentle music float around me to fill the space.

The flat didn’t feel empty or anything, it was just a habit of mine that I had formed over the years. My whole life had been surrounded by noise – every home I’d had was noisy whether it was from music or TVs or loud conversations. These days I had the library, which had the gentle buzz of students and teachers, and the restaurant that had the rustle and bustle of staff and customers.

The flat just had me. And having control over the noise that surrounded me made the flat feel like it really belonged to me this time.

By the time the kettle finished boiling I had swapped out my jeans for a pair of warmer sweatpants and some UGGs, making a coffee carefully – despite it being nearly half eight in the evening – and finding my old, weathered copy of Mansfield Park. To say it was my favourite was a slight understatement; the spine was currently being held together with so many layers of invisible tape that it really wasn’t invisible anymore.

As I sat down on the banquette seating in front of the window my phone started to ring. I quickly put my book and drink on the coffee table beside me, pulling my phone out of my pocket to find Queenie’s number and picture lighting up the screen.

‘Queenie?’ I answered without a proper greeting, part of me worried that something was wrong with Harvey. Queenie didn’t usually ring this late, especially since she was just downstairs and I’d just seen her barely half an hour ago. Harvey was a pretty old guy (I suspected, anyway) and he’d not been well the last couple of weeks. I felt like it was pretty fair for me to think that maybe something had happened. ‘You okay?’

‘Hi, yes, everything’s fine.’ Queenie reassured me right away, though I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced. ‘Sorry, Mija, you’re probably already settled for the night.’

‘It’s fine, Queenie, I was just having coffee.’ A small lie, technically, but she didn't need to know that.

‘At this hour?’ The older woman laughed on the other side of the line. ‘Dios Mío, girl, you’ll be up all night.’ I chuckled but rolled my eyes as if Queenie could still see me – though with her Super Spanish Mother Powers I wouldn’t put it past her if she could.

‘Ah, you know me.’ I said simply. ‘You all good? Did you need me to come back?’

‘Nah, nah, stay there.’ She said gently. ‘I just wanted to ask a favour from you for tomorrow morning.’

‘Sure, Queens, what do you need?’ I picked up my coffee and had a quick sip, knowing that sometimes Queenie got carried away on the phone. Knowing my luck my coffee would be cold by the time I finished talking to her.

‘I have to take Harvey for another appointment tomorrow so we won’t be able to come in for the Leone’s delivery in the morning.’ Queenie said and my heart sank as soon as I registered the words because I knew exactly where this was going. ‘I just need you to let the girls in the back when you hear the buzzer, she’ll know what to do.’

‘Girls?’ I made a face. ‘I thought Tony and his son did the deliveries?’

‘Jules said something came up so they’re sending Rocky and Claudia instead.’

‘Huh.’ I gave a quiet sigh. ‘Alright then. What time are they coming?’

‘Probably around seven.’ I could almost hear the grimace in Queenie’s voice as she spoke and I groaned inwardly. ‘I know it’s early – I can ask someone else if it’s too much trouble, Tills.’

‘Nah, don’t stress. I can do it.’ I told Queenie as I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the migraine begin to make a comeback. ‘I have to be up early anyway.’ Another lie, but I felt like I owed Queenie this much. And regardless of that, even though I didn’t technically work for the restaurant, I was probably one of the better people she could have asked anyway.

‘Ah, gracias, Mija, really.’ Queenie gushed. ‘I owe you, okay? I’ll have Harvey cook you up something nice.’

I tried to decline the offer but, naturally, Queenie was having none of it and pretty much planned the meal there and then. Eventually she let me go and, as expected, my coffee was cold. I sighed again, taking the mug back to the kitchen to tip the rest of the contents down the drain. I wouldn’t be needing it anyway, I had to be up early apparently.

The thought of an early start as well as that stupid supervising shift in the library, the prospect of tomorrow really didn’t seem so great. Switching off the music and shutting the blinds gruffly, I hauled myself to bed and fell face-first into the pillows, almost wishing that I would suffocate before morning came.  

Seven o’clock rolled around quicker than I wanted it to, but my saving grace was that both Claudia and Rocky, the Leone’s delivery boys for the day, looked exactly how I felt. Claudia had this long dark hair that was thrown up into a messy top-knot, Rocky’s shaggy (almost) pixie cut hidden under a maroon beanie. Both of them were in oversized hoodies and tights, which made me feel a hell of a lot better about my UGGs and sweater paws while I helped them unload the van into the restaurant kitchen.  

‘You guys don’t really do this often, do you?’ I asked with a small laugh as I helped Rocky with a particularly heavy box of what I guessed were vegetables while Claudia took a phone call from their father, I deduced based on the fact that she was repeating ‘yes I know,Dad’ many, many times.

Rocky scoffed at my question, trying to disguise it behind another yawn.

‘I could ask the same thing,’ She said with a curt – but friendly – gesture at my feet once the box was set down on one of the steel counters. ‘Are those uniform around here or what?’

I glanced down to the UGGs on my feet and laughed.  

‘Ah, no.’ I admitted. ‘No, I don’t actually work here.’ Rocky’s eyebrows shot up in a silent question. ‘I live in the flat upstairs – Queenie asked me to supervise the delivery.’

Rocky seemed to smirk at the new information, dark eyes crinkling in the corners just a little.

‘What, they don’t trust us?’ She asked me with a tilted head. I rolled my eyes at the girl, Claudia coming back around the corner (though she was still on the phone, and unimpressed by the looks of it).

‘More like they don’t trust the bozo’s in here.’ I grinned and Rocky gave a loud laugh with a slightly impressed nod before we dragged our feet back outside to the van to help Claudia with the rest of the boxes. 3

We all yawned our way through the next hour and we all sat and had coffee while the morning staff prepared for the day and before I knew it, it was almost nine and it was time for them – and me – to go back to work.

*

I could think of a hundred different things that I could have been doing that would have been more productive than just sitting around at the service desk in the library waiting for this Ashton guy to grace me with his presence.

At twelve thirty, when he was officially half an hour late, I’d already sent out overdue emails to half of the students in the entire university and had started stamping the new books that had been delivered earlier in the morning. That was supposed to be his job, and here I was doing it for him. In those thirty minutes, I’d looked at my watch more times than I had all year. I was aggressively unimpressed.

‘I’m looking for, uh… Tillie? Tillie Daniels.’

‘Who’s asking?’

‘Uh, I’m Ashton.’ He said. ‘I was supposed to be here at –’

‘Twelve.’ I finished for him. When I looked up at him, face rock hard and glaring daggers, he was looking down at me over the desk, shifting his weight from foot to foot sheepishly with a small smile twitching on thin lips. ‘You know you’re late, right?’

‘Yeah… I’m sorry about that that.’ He said, smile wavering (though he didn’t look away from my killer scowl, which surprised me since I was usually pretty good at making people uncomfortable with that Angry Librarian Face). ‘I woke up late and had to do a make-up test for one of my classes. Then my roommate was having a bit of a crisis, then I couldn’t find the library –’

‘Did you bring your paperwork?’ I cut him off. I wasn’t interested in his life story, I just wanted to get this over and done with. The sooner he started stamping books, the sooner I could get back to inputting the new books into the system and, more importantly, the sooner my shift would be over and I could ditch this guy.

‘Oh.’ Ashton said dumbly. ‘Yeah.’ He fumbled around in a seemingly empty satchel that hung over his shoulder for a minute or two before he produced two slips of crumpled paper and an envelope. He handed them to me and it took me a couple of moments to actually take them from him, just because I hadn’t quite finished staring.

He was wearing a loose, white muscle shirt and black board shorts, vans on his feet – with no socks, since no guy seemed to feel the need to wear socks anymore – and his blondish hair was slightly wet as it curled around his ears. I cocked an eyebrow, my fingers brushing his as I took his paperwork.

‘Couldn’t find the library?’ I questioned and the guy kind of shrugged. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, but he didn’t elaborate on it either which made me think that he hadn’t thought up a detailed enough story to continue the lie. I just blinked away the thought, trying to flatten the papers on the counter while Ashton stood there, hands in his pockets as he waited for me to read them.

One was pink and was double sided. It was a time sheet, one with a grid that I realised, without even looking at it properly, that I was going to have to sign and stamp every day for the next few months. The other was a letter from the Dean, explaining that Ashton’s presence here was mandatory. There was no way he was getting out of this, and consequently that meant I wasn’t getting out of this either.

‘What’s with this?’ I asked as I turned over the last item in my hands, trying (kind of) to smoothen out the creases while I looked for a label or stamp. But there was nothing on it, it was just an off-white, sealed, blank envelope. It barely even felt like there was anything in it. I stared at Ashton incredulously and, once again, he just shrugged without even looking bothered by it. He pulled out his phone instead and started to scroll or text or whatever, and I suppressed the urge to scream.

Usually I was pretty patient with people and strangers, but for some reason there was something about this Ashton guy that just really irked me. He was standing there, lying about why he was late and wasting my time, and then he had the nerve to mess around on his phone like he wasn’t wasting my time as well as his own.

I took a breath and counted to five in my head, trying not to snap too soon. This was already going to be a long semester – I didn’t want to make it even longer by completely throttling the guy on the first day.

‘Alright, whatever.’ I huffed, stamping the pink slip and handing it back to him gruffly. Ashton shoved his phone back in his pocket and took back the time sheet hurriedly, a flash of annoyance passing through his eyes that made me roll my own.

I took a second to glance around the area where we were to see if there was a free three feet of space for Ashton to work and shuddered inwardly when I realised that the only table that wasn’t currently being used was almost right next to me. I fluttered around for a bit, letting Ashton tap his feet and look around with a glazed over and bored expression while I stood and pushed the trolley of new books a few feet down the long librarian’s desk. I found the other School Stamp and set it down in front of a desk chair, rolling an empty trolley between his chair and mine to create two separate work stations.

‘You can come ‘round over there,’ I finally spoke again, gesturing to the small entrance gap at the opposite end of the desk. ‘You’ll be stamping the new books we got in yesterday.’

‘O-kay.’ He pursed his lips but made his way around anyway, dumping his bag next to the chair before he sat down. ‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’ I said shortly, picking up a textbook from the pile and sitting it in front of the blond. ‘Just open the book –’ I opened it. ‘– stamp the inside –’ I stamped. ‘– flip to the back –’ I flipped. ‘– stamp again.’ I stamped again. ‘If it has a jacket, stamp the inside of the jacket too. Stamped books go on the empty trolley; you’re here ‘til two.’

I dropped the newly stamped book onto the empty trolley before I sat myself back down in my own chair, intending to ignore Ashton for the rest of his stay here. But as I stole one last annoyed glance at Ashton, he was grimacing again.

‘Two?’ He asked, though I wasn’t sure it was really aimed at me entirely. Regardless, the whine annoyed me – probably more than it should have, but I really didn’t have time for this today. I was not in the mood.

‘I should make you stay ‘til halftwo, you know.’ I shot, unable to help the acid in my voice. ‘You were late by like thirty minutes.’

‘Yeah, you mentioned that.’ Ashton sighed, taking the first book from his full trolley very begrudgingly. ‘I just thought I’d be doing something a little more… interesting.’

There was no way this was real, like, he was not saying that right now. I’d never met somebody so obnoxious in my life.

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you pulled whatever stunt landed you in here in the first place.’ I snapped back, and I watched as Ashton recoiled though he was smart enough not to comment.

‘Can I at least listen to some music while I do it?’ He asked with a slightly arched brow, gesturing to the headphones he’d just pulled from his pocket. I gave a small shrug but nodded.

‘Yeah, do whatever.’ I huffed and that was end of it.

With a tense silence falling between us – finally– I was able to turn back to my computer and finish sending out the emails I needed to. Despite how annoyed Ashton had made me, it was surprisingly easy to tune him out. He found a kind of rhythm for his stamping that sort of set the pace for the afternoon. It was a little slow, but it was better than him giving lip and annoying me with actual words. I would take it, I decided, and used the constant thudding to gently guide me into my own rhythm until the sound was nothing but dull background noise.

I’d progressed from emails to homework over the course of time, but when a literary analysis failed to peak my interest I moved on to a piece of writing I was in the middle of brainstorming for the school magazine. I didn’t contribute to the VCA Focus often, but the Autumn Edition was going to be published soon and the Editor in Chief, Rae, actually came to me and asked if I would write something to be featured.

It was an honour, really, I’d never actually been askedto write before. Usually I submitted things on a whim. They were weirdly popular, my pieces. I saw my poems and flash fiction pieces being talked about on the school forums and in classes more often than I thought they would. It was flattering – and exhilarating at the same time since nobody (except for Rae) knew that those pieces belonged to me.

I was never sure why, but it never really appealed to me to have my name out there. Part of it was that whenever I was writing I seemed to just dissociate from my regular self and become somebody else, and I felt like if I ever put my name onto my pieces I would lose that part of me forever. TD wasn’t Tillie Daniels. She was somebody else who didn’t know anything but writing for writing’s sake.  

It wasn’t the cleverest of pseudonyms, but it was enough. There were an infinite number of students in this school with the same initials, so I still felt safe. I felt insured.

This particular piece was starting to do my head in a little bit, though; it felt like I’d been ‘brainstorming’ for days. Rae had said the theme for the Autumn Focus was something along the lines of “longing” and “desire” – but I wasn’t really sure if I was supposed to take that literally or not. Then there was the added problem that I didn’t usuallycorrespond to any particular theme when I wrote. I just wrote whatever came to me in the moment, or whatever felt right, and the Focus usually accepted anything I submitted because there wasn’t usually a set theme in mind. Rae was introducing a new system this year, for some reason, and whether she knew it or not she was messing with my own system (or, you know, lack thereof).  

I was immersing myself into research and definitions, as time went by, and before I knew it, Ashton was tapping me on the shoulder and bringing my attention back to earth.

‘It’s two.’ He said simply and flatly. I just stared blankly, stealing a glance back at the monitor and then back to Ashton who was staring at me almost impatiently from where he stood on the other side of the half-full trolley of books.

‘Okay?’ I twitched my eyes ever-so-slightly, thinking Ashton would have just gotten up and left on his own. But he didn’t, he just kept staring.

‘Can I go?’ He tried again as he made a quick gesture in the direction of the library exit. I gave a nonchalant shrug and nodded.

‘Yes?’ I half-mumbled and Ashton rolled his eyes and left. I huffed, watching him sling his bag back over his shoulder and turn on his heel to wander with that obnoxious walk he had going on. I was still scowling when he turned to call over his shoulder.

‘See you tomorrow, I guess.’ He said, and he already sounded defeated.

‘Whatever.’ I muttered again, but he was already out of earshot, almost moseying out of the doors.

[ Snapshot Masterlist | Next chapter ] 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #208

"if you want to soar with vultures, you'll have to swallow crow."

What may we call you? Brittany/Britt or Ozz/Ozzy. When can we send you a birthday card? (Figuratively, of course.): February 5th. And, where are you calling from? (Again, figuratively.): Please free me of the sweltering grip of North Carolina. What is your favorite Hostess/Little Debbie snack? BIIIIIIHHHHH that's too hard. I love that shit. I love the honeybuns, Twinkies, those little chocolate cupcakes... and really just most things lkdjalksdjwoe. Do you/your family buy loaf from the bakery or bagged on the shelf? Bagged. White, wheat or other? Mom usually buys whitewheat, but sometimes just wheat because she knows I prefer it. Have you ever fixed something without knowing just how you did it? I'm sure I have at some point. When was the last time you were on a plane? Last December. Where were you going and why? To Sara's for her birthday. What’s the best news you’ve gotten lately? Mom found a serious deal for a brand new Canon camera with more focal length range than my previous one and she bought it right in time for the wedding I shot yesterday. :') ^And, the worst? My niece may already be developing schizophrenia. If you could invent something, what would it be? Uhhhh... just one is hard. I literally just thought about this for like 5+ minutes and can't think of one singular invention that would actually be important. Well, maybe some sort of totally natural, long-lasting preservative for food? That'd help so many people and would greatly decrease the amount of fruits and such we waste, and it would also save money with probably slightly decreasing the frequency of grocery shopping. Tell me about your favorite pair of pants. I literally just have black yoga/dance pants lmao. Do you like getting dressed up? NO. Is your technology up to date? Depends on how "up-to-date" you mean. My stuff definitely isn't totally current. Ever been stuck next to someone really annoying on a LONG plane/train ride? Nah. Would you be embarrassed to find out you snored loudly in public? Yeah. Are you afraid of heights? Yes, to a degree. What is a compliment you get most often? "I like your hair"/stuff like that. Tell me about the last frightening/weird dream you had. This is hard, I like, never remember my dreams. Now, about the last pleasant dream you had. AHA I actually do remember this one: I got the rare-as-all-fuck and beautiful as all hell heavenly onyx cloud serpent in WoW, which I've tried getting every week for years. @_@ My eyes like popped open and I nearly gasped. Do you feel guilty about killing bugs? Sometimes. If there is a spider in your room, will you be up all night knowing that? YUP. How do you feel about coconut? I hate it. ^ Ever cracked one open? No. If you like someone, what do you do? Generally get shy and smile a lot when interacting with them. If you DON’T like someone, what do you do? Try to avoid being around them, keep talking to them to a minimum. What do you feel most insecure about? What DON'T I feel insecure about? Do you do your part to save the earth? I do what I can as not an independent adult (ex., I don't have my own car, so we don't drive to the dump). I turn the water off when brushing my teeth, I don't linger in the shower, I absolutely will not litter, things like that. Does it ROYALLY piss you off when your intended username is already taken? Yeesh, it doesn't even make me mad, it's just annoying. Describe your sunglasses. I don't have any. What’s the most you’ve spent on a pair of sunglasses? N/A ^Or, ladies, what about a purse? No clue, but definitely not a lot. Actually, what’s the most expensive clothing item/accessory you own? Again, I don't know. What is your favorite spoken language to listen to? Latin. Is there a TV switched on in the room you’re in? There is no TV. If so, what’s on? N/A What room of the house are you in anyway? My bedroom. Do you own anything that is special edition? I think some games, maybe? Maybe other things? Do you have any funky bookmarks? I have one of those moving 3D ones of meerkats. Do you know anyone with a British accent? Not personally. Are you reading any books at the moment? No. If so, tell me the plot briefly. N/A. When did you last get delivery pizza? A few weeks back. Drake Bell or Josh Peck? Back when the show was current, I preferred Drake. I know nothing about him now; Josh is cool, though. When was the last time you had a tick on you? EW idk I don't even wanna think about it. Do you watch Adult Swim? No, I hate it. It's crawling with immature humor. Have you been to the Grand Canyon? No. What is your favorite type of donut? Glazed or plain. Who usually makes dinner in your household? Mom. Name ALL the colors you’re wearing. Oh jeez, I have on a really colorful Day of the Dead-style skull tank top. Literally like every possible color. Are there more females or males in your family? Females. Have you submitted anything to Urban Dictionary? No. Did you have a Gameboy? If so, do you still have it? Yes to both. Is there a playground anywhere near your house? Define "near." Not very. Does anyone in your family snore loudly? Mom. What’s your favorite cereal? Probably Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Or Crunch Berries, the all berries kind. Do you read reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? No. Do you know anyone who’s had a baby recently? An old best friend from high school. When was the last time you ate marshmallows? Not since Sara was here and we had s'mores last summer. Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them? No. What brand of toilet paper do you usually buy? I don't pay attention to whatever Mom gets. Why did you leave your last job? The stress was giving me panic attacks. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? No. What was the last thing that made you laugh out loud? Probably Mark or GameGrumps. How old were you when you first became sexually active? 16. What’s your opinion on The Simpsons? I don't have one. Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce? Plenty of people. Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in? No. Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you? A moderate amount. We live on a busy road. Would someone being either a cat or dog person effect you dating them? No. What is the smallest thing you lose your temper over instantly? Hm, idk. Talk to me like I'm an idiot will definitely get me, actually. What’s a job that doesn’t get enough respect? Mfckn teachers. They are WAY WAY WAY underpaid. What did you take for granted until you visited another country? Never left the country. What is the worst first date you’ve been on? Tyler had a flat tire, and we had to walk to the gas station for something I don't remember and back to the sketchy tire place, and it was SO cold and windy. It didn't actually bother me, like he felt godawful and it wasn't like it was in his power, but from a date standpoint, yeah, that was an event. Who is your favorite scientist and why? I'm not educated enough on various scientists for this. Do you prefer emoticons or emoji? Emoticons. What’s the hardest task you’ve ever had to do? Open my mind in partial hospitalization to let Jason go and recover. How did you meet your pet? Teddy was from a friend of a family friend who knew we were looking for a dog. He was a present for me, so I didn't actually pick him, but rather Ashley chose the last remaining puppy with brown on him, and boy did she make the best decision. Roman was one of the shitload of kittens Ash's mother-in-law had; I was immediately drawn to him with his beautiful blue eyes. <3 Venus was from an online hub of ball python breeders, and I just absolutely fell in love with her colors. Kaiju and Mitsu were both from Craigslist. Do you look like any of your grand- or great-grandparents? I don't have a clue. Did/Do you have any PEZ dispensers? Oh yeah. Do you like grapes or raisins better? I only like grapes. What is the most extreme weather your area has ever experienced? I looked it up; the coldest in history is -9*, highest is 105*. Is there anything you plan on watching on TV today? No. Are there any broken appliances in your house? Maybe. Mom may still have my old Sager in hopes of fixing it one day or something, but I feel like we finally got rid of it. What color is the lampshade in the room you’re in? I don't have a lamp in here. At school, what is/was your worst area in math? I don't remember. Have Jehovah's Witnesses ever called to your door? Yes. Do you ever throw money in those ‘wishing’ wells? No. Waste of coins. Ever take money out of them? No. Are you well known by people in your area? No. What is the picture on the desktop on the computer you’re using? A meerkat. Have you ever had your future told? No. Do you 'spit on it’, to seal a deal? No no no ew. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, thank god. If so, have you had any scary hallucinations? N/A Do you believe in ghosts? Totally. Would you ever stay overnight in a haunted house? Sure thing. When was the last time you had an injection? What for? Months ago when I was getting a cavity filled at the dentist. For some reason, I would NOT go totally numb until they gave me like 5+ doses. Is there anything you cannot wait to be over? This eternally-looping groundhog's day bullshit. I want a job, to be in school, friends, just a damn purpose. Do you have any enemies? "Enemies," no. People I don't like that also don't like me, yes. What was the last thing you had done at the dentist? Speak of the dentist, lol. Said cavity filling. Do you scrunch your face up when eating sour things? No, I'm not very affected by sour things. As a child, did you ever get the chance to go to Disney World/Disneyland? World, yes. <3 Are you someone who is really committed to politics in your area/country? No. When was the last time you were on a boat? Where did you travel on it? Two summers ago when I was fishing with Colleen, her husband, and dad. Does your family ever have any kind of weird traditions in your house? No. What would you consider your favorite movie from a different decade? The Lion King. Do you ever take bubble baths only to relax yourself in some way? I never take any kind of bath. When was the last time you were sick? What were you sick with and why? I don't remember. Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? Yes, though I had serious reason, but I wasn't in any way demanding about it/nothing was actually affected by them remaining friends. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? They've both moved out. Do you know anyone who has or has had any kind of mental illness/disorder? I'd love to meet someone who can possibly say "no" to this. Do you ever go to Blockbuster? How frequently would you say you go? *stares off into the distance wistfully* Is your mother a stay-at-home mother or does she work somewhere? She never stops working. What food would you just want to disappear off the face of the earth? Nothing? I'm not going to take away the diet of people depending on some source I just happen to hate. Do movies with super heroes intrigue you in any way? Why is this? Yeah, I just like fantasy stuff, and I enjoy the majority of the plots. I also just enjoy the idea of superheroes existing. Do you watch those late-night talk shows? What’s the best part about them? No. Do you ever listen to music so you can actually change your emotion? I try to sometimes. Do you like shopping alone? I've never really shopped alone. Does your best girlfriend have any talents that you don’t? Yeah, like she can animate pretty well! Have you ever written a song? I wrote a fucking song to the Nintendogs theme as a kid lmfao. Does anybody send you money in the mail for your birthday? My grampa always did, but he's sadly passed away, so now, no. Do you own any shirts that have a year on it? Ha ha, I have a Back to the Future shirt stored somewhere with the date on it, and it says "I was there." What do you think about mullets? I absolutely hate them. Would you rather date an actor or an athlete? I find actors more talented. I'd be afraid of an athlete s/o getting hurt, too. Do you have any scratches on your cell phone? No. Somehow. When was the last time you blushed? I don't remember, it's definitely been a while. Who is one person you met and automatically didn’t like? A doctor for my tremors. She was a BITCH with just such an unlikable, dull personality. Never went back to her. Do you have any video game systems in your room? Which one(s)? I have a Nintendo DS Lite somewhere... and then my laptop is actually a gaming laptop. What movie coming out do you really want to see? The. Live action. TLK. First day? I'm fuckin' THERE son. Is your skin tone lighter or darker than your mom’s? We're about the same. What is the best thing about the beach? All I care about is if the water's warm. Have you ever done another person’s make-up? I gave Jason a makeover once lmao. Have you ever spied on your neighbor? No. Do you think they’ve ever spied on you? No. What color eyes does the last person you kissed have? Brown. Honestly, do you double dip? No, I break chips apart. I will if I'm eating by myself, though. What color is your birthstone? Purple. What is one thing you don’t like sharing? Hmmm. Oh, probably candy, lmao. Where on your body would you NEVER get a piercing? Downstairs. Which Adam Sandler movie do you like the most? He's been in so many, I don't have a clue. I like him, though. Who was one of your first celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney was my husband. Did your parents ever read stories to you before bed? Mom did. What are you listening to? "Queen For Queen" by Motionless In White. Do you like hickeys? If they're not in an obvious spot. Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? No. When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? I don't have a best friend besides Sara, and I talk to her everyday. Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? Sara. Do you believe what goes around comes around? Not always. Do you have any summer plans yet? No. I'd like to go up and visit Sara, but I have no clue if that'll happen, especially with me trying so hard to get a job. Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? One. Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? Yes. Have you ever regretted kissing someone? Yes. Do you think age matters in relationships? To an extent when a minor is involved. Even huge gaps in adult relationships creep me out, but there's nothing morally wrong with it. How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? Two. Do you believe exes can be friends? It depends on the intensity of the relationship, I think. Plus what went wrong. Did you ever lose a best friend? Yeah. Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? Lol poor thing's seen me sob. Are most of your friend guys or girls? Girls. When was the last time you took a long drive? A few days ago to my psychiatrist. About an hour drive. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? No. Have you ever TP'd someone’s house? Well, considering I've never been that damn immature, no. Who do you text the most? Sara. What was the last movie you saw? Detective Pikachu. It was cute, although I was expecting it to be more targeted towards an older audience with Ryan Reynolds playing Pikachu. (I knew nothing about it going into it.) Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships? I'm monogamous. What do you most like about making out? The touching/caressing. Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with? No. Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already? No. Do you miss your last sweetie? Not romantically. It'd be nice to hang out again, though. Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication? No. If you could kiss anyone who would it be? Y'all been known. What’s your favorite flavor of soda, pop or whatever else you call it? Blue raspberry. Have you ever attended a religious or private school? Yes; I went to Sunday school. How many cars does your household own? One. What time do you usually have dinner? 4:00 for fasting reasons. What’s your favorite meat? Probably chicken. Do you need glasses to read or drive or need them all the time? I always need them. Are you a very forgetful person? I'm so forgetful that I literally sometimes have borderline anxiety attacks that I'm developing dementia or something at age 23 lmao. What is the best gift anyone has ever gotten for you? My dog. Do you look anything like you did 3 years ago? I guess somewhat, though I was way bigger and my hair was much longer. Have you done something dramatic to your looks in the past year? No. Make up or no make up? I think everyone inevitably looks better with make-up as it enhances features and dulls imperfections, but I personally couldn't care less if you wear it or not. I almost never do, so I can't talk. What’s your favorite thing to watch on the TV? IF I was to watch TV now, probably things like animal documentaries. Would you rather be anorexic or obese? Actually go fuck yourself. Do you upload videos to YouTube? Definitely not regularly. I don't know the next time I'll make one. Do you own any albums by Michael Jackson? No. Do you like your phone on silent or vibrate? Vibrate. Do you like Beavis and Butthead? I don't watch it, but it honestly seems pretty damn stupid. What do you believe happens after we die? Who even knows, really. I believe there's something after we die, but we'll have to wait to find out what. Does the concept of eternity scare you? It kinda... does, actually? Like, wouldn't it get boring eventually? Are you happy that you were born and raised where you were? I suppose. Are your parents still together? No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant right now? Yes, and I want to see their fckng son he's gonna be so cute. She's due soon and I pray I get to take pictures of him. Is there a band you like but don’t like the people in it? Blood On The Dance Floor and Otep. Well, Otep is respectable in some areas, but all things considered, she is a bitch. What tabs do you have open right now? Fucking five YouTube tabs, dA, and Tumblr. Who was the last person to write on your wall on Facebook? No clue, and I don't feel like looking. Have you ever seen a tornado in person? Thank Christ in Heaven no. Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? No. How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I have no clue, when I got my permit. What was your first car? N/A Who taught you how to drive? My driver's ed teacher and my mom. What was your high school mascot? A firebird. Did you go to your senior prom? Yes. What did you do after graduation? Honestly? I don't even remember, almost at all, lmao. I either went to Jason's or went home/Jason came with me. Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? When Nicole and I shared a room, she literally covered the fucking walls in Jonas Brothers shit while I was at a friend's house, and I was. Very. Very. Unhappy. Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? I've never had beer, don't want to. Did you ever try cigarettes? No. How did you spend your summers growing up? Swimming, hanging out with friends, playing outside, riding bikes, playing softball with Dad, playing video games... If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Hey, could I have been like, a happy teenager??? Do you remember your first time? No considering at that time I didn't realize it essentially was sex, so it wasn't something that stood out at the time. After high school - straight to college or straight to work? I went straight to college. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? Spaghetti. Favorite place to eat out growing up? It was probably McDonald's. How many stuffed animals do you own? I literally have multiple huge bags in the attic of childhood stuffed animals I couldn't get rid of, lmao. Are you good at comebacks? WOW no. When’s the last time you watched the news? I don't have the slightest idea. Do you love Christmas time? Of course. Do you really think that the number 13 is unlucky? No. What’s your favorite flavor of cough drops? Omggg I love those strawberry ones. Do you have a fan in your room? Yes. I wouldn't survive without it. Do you think Cookie Monster is cute? I don't really feel either way. Do you like candy canes? Yes. Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? Yes. Which is worse: stuffy nose or runny nose? Probably stuffy? I don't have a runny nose much, but I've got pleeeenty of experience with stuffy noses. Which is worse: Sick to your stomach or sore throat? THE FORMER. What’s your favorite smiley face? c: Do you think your last relationship was a disaster? No. How many concerts have you been to? One. :/ Would you ever join a band? If I was actually talented with the guitar, maybe, but as things are now, nope. Which internet browser do you use? Chrome. Do you know anyone who is a firefighter? No. What was the last wedding you went to? Just a few days ago for a lady who contacted me about shooting hers. It was a great one, and honestly wonderful to see an interracial wedding here in the South. You do nooot see that everyday. What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? Margaritas. When was the last time you saw a photo of your ex? Probably the last time I was uploading pictures from my old phone; it's the one I take the once-a-year selfie because the Samsung camera is ACTUAL trash. Do you “binge-watch” TV shows? No. Well actually, on the occasions Sara and I have, I can only handle a handful at a time before I completely lose focus on it or, at that time anyway, interest. What is your opinion of clowns? I don't have one. Do you play any games on your phone? Only Pokemon GO if I'm somewhere I can actually play it. Do you plan ahead when it comes to your outfits? No. Have you ever shaved your face? We have this tiny automatic razor thing for your upper lip, and I use that like once a month or less because yay having dark body hair. What color is your front door? White. What was the last vaccination you got? Whatever those mandatory ones are when you become a teenager. Idr. Would you ever try herbal medicine as opposed to conventional medicine? No. If I need medicine for something, I'm using something I know works. Have you ever been to a petting zoo? I think as a kid? Do/did you have a curfew set by your parents? It wasn't heavily enforced, but Mom preferred I be home by 10 if I went somewhere. How many times have you consumed alcohol? *shrugs* When was the last time you wore a hat? What kind? I have noooo clue. When was the last time you sang an ENTIRE song? Good question. I rarely sing an entire song, rather just parts. Do you consider yourself to be attractive? I don't mind my face, but I do NOT like my body, so overall, no. Are you addicted to anything? Technology. What are you craving right now? I've had an insane craving for hot dogs on the grill for like a week now lmao. Mom's doing that and buying some drinks today for the two of us. I wanted my sisters to come for some family time, but my younger sister has homework, and then Ash and kids like... never come here. "Because of the dogs," according to her husband, but I don't believe that. Are you a forgiving person? I'm way too forgiving. Do you have a brother? Yes. Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? WHOA actually I think I semi-recently had a nightmare of me going ham stabbing someone for some reason I don't remember. What would you want your last words to be if you could choose them? "I love you" or then "see you on the other side" is cute to me and also indicates we'll be together again. So probably the latter. What band can’t you stand listening to? I reeeaaally dislike Mumford and Sons. His voice is awful. What is your favorite mystery/crime/FBI related show? Does Sherlock count as a mystery show? Would you ever have a bird as a pet? Nah. How’s your relationship between you and your grandparents? Not wonderful. I don't like her very much, and evidence says I'm not her favorite person, either. Do you have a photographic memory? No. Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? No. Do you know someone who’s been cremated? Hm, don't think so. Have you ever talked to someone when they were high? Yes. Your ex is on the side of the road, on fire. What do you do? Uh, call 911??? Dunk water on him if at all possible? I'm not just gonna drive past anyone who's on fucking fire. It’s 2 in the morning and you get a text message, who is it most likely? Sara. I only ever text her and Mom, and Mom would be right outside my door asleep, so. Ever cried while you were on the phone with someone? Is there anyone who hasn't? When was the last time you saw your father? Not since his birthday last month. Do you like any of Justin Bieber’s songs? No. Any time when you need to search something on the Internet, which search engine do you use? Google. Do you believe saving your virginity for marriage or no? I don't care. I believe in saving it for someone you truly, deeply love. When you were a kid, did you ever like Barney? Yes. Omfg I just remembered something with my older sister; when she was little, Barney was her "boyfriend." She was "talking on the phone" with him once, and when Mom interrupted her, she scoffed and said, "I'm talking to Barney." And then Ash and Barney had an ACTUAL "ceremony" for a divorce. That's a thing that happened. What’s the capital of state, country, or providence you live in? Raleigh. When you open your web browser, what is your home page set to? Why did you select this? Google. I think it was automatically set. Would you allow a camera crew to follow you around and make a reality series out of your life (no matter how boring it is) if you got paid well? Why? No. I'd get so fucking annoyed, I'd feel under constant scrutiny, and I don't want fame. If your car broke down would you call a friend or family member to pick you up or would you call AAA (or something like it)? I'd call my mom and listen to her on what to do from there. Do you put a lot of thought into the gifts you buy for people? YEAH. It's rare I actually have my own money to buy gifts for anyone, so when I can, I think hard. On an average day do your thoughts tend to be more positive or negative? Negative, I think. Do you ever trust anyone else to drive your car? If you don’t have a car, do your friends and family ever allow you to drive their vehicles? I don't have my own, but Mom lets me drive hers. Name at least one thing you like about each season. Winter: SNOW. Spring: Flowers!! Summer: swimming. Autumn: visuals. What amount of time do you think is perfect for a vacation? I guess a week?