#hoping and praying this finds the right people and not the weirdos | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auras-moonstone · 1 year ago

Text

someone requested this but i lost it😫😫 the request asked me to write a story about reader being a streamer and jack and her meeting through one of mason’s streams. i hope you like it! 💖

locked up in your arms — jack champion

word count: 1,581

pairing: jack champion x streamer!fem!reader

summary: y/n’s crush gets exposed during her stream with mason, but luckily he feels the same.

Y/N HAD STARTED HER TWITCH CHANNEL PURELY FOR FUN, NEVER EXPECTING SO MUCH PEOPLE TO START FOLLOWING HER. She did pretty much everything—reactions to movies, music, chatting, occasionally gameplays. People were instantly drawn in by her charm, kindness and sense of humor.

And Mason Gooding had been one of them. He absolutely loved her channel, so when he saw Y/N was a huge fan of the Scream movies, he didn’t hesitate to reach out and asked her to do a stream with him. She, of course, said yes. The viewers loved their dynamic, and their shared streams became something they did weekly.

“You have gotten so much better at this game” Mason said as they finished playing Dead By Daylight.

Y/N grimaced “Sure, I still suck. I mean, my gaming experience starts and ends with the Sims”

Mason laughed, and was about to respond when the sound of his phone interrupted him. “Jack Champion just texted”

The girl gulped, hoping that the mic didn’t catch that. To say she had a crush on that actor was an understatement. Her face turned a dark shade of red, and prayed that it wouldn’t be that noticeable through the camera.

“He says, Mason tell the people I say you’re a sussy baka” the streamer read the text, trying not to laugh.

“Did he just say sussy baka?” Y/N pressed her lips together.

“Don’t make fun of my boy!” Mason warned her.

“I’m not! I thought it was ador- hilarious” holy shit she almost said he was adorable.

“And tell Y/N the Sims is a great game, and I bet she builds beautiful houses” Mason continued.

“I do build beautiful houses. Thank you, Jack!” she said, glad the stutter didn’t come into play.

oh god y/n is about to go into cardiac arrest

hey! don’t expose her lmaooo

girl is crushing hard

didn’t we know she had a crush on jack already??? have you seen her scream 6 reaction???

omg yes she totally thirsted over him for two hours straight.

Mason bursted out laughing at the comments. “I need to see your Scream reaction holy shit. Why did no one ever tell me?”

“They’re exaggerating” they weren’t. “And drop it! You’re not seeing the reaction”

“I so am” Mason said. “In fact, why don’t we react to your reaction?”

“Why don’t we end the stream and never talk again?” she frowned, acting annoyed.

“You’re so adorable!” he laughed. Mason actually thought she and Jack would make an excellent couple, and he was so going to make that happen. “Anyways, that was the end of an eventful stream. Now we gotta go, Y/N needs to put ice on her cheeks”

“I hate you” she said as she ended the video call.

Mason texted her a few minutes after the stream ended.

hey ur not mad at me, are u?

no, i’m not. i just am a little bit embarassed

now everyone knows about my crush

did jack say something? pls tell me he was not watching the stream anymore.

i don’t know. he didn’t say anything, so maybe he left before you exposed yourself

very funny

anyways he’s going to find out. people are for sure sending the clips 😫😫

why are you so worried?

it’s not like you’re going to meet him.

no i know

but idk, i don’t want him to think i’m a weirdo

for having a crush??

don’t be silly. he won’t, jack is the sweetest guy on earth.

okay fine

maybe you’re right

i’m overthinking as always :)

MASON ALMOST LET OUT A SCREAM OF EXCITEMENT WHEN THE TEXT ARRIVED. He had been pretty much hopeless about his plan, so he was caught off guard when Jack told him he was going to LA that weekend. Now, there was one last thing to do.

hey y/n/n

hey mason what’s up?

are you free this saturday??

yeah why?

devyn, jasmine and jenna are dying to meet you, so they told me to invite you :)

we’re doing a picnic!!

yess i’d love to!

GREAT I’M SO EXCITED

why?

BECAUSE😬😬

you’re so weird

thank you

see ya on saturday

Mason couldn’t shake the smile off his face as he opened the group chat he had with Jasmine, Jenna and Devyn.

she’s coming!!!

the ship is about to sail!!! 🚢

she’s going to hate me but it’ll be worthy

i still can’t believe how red she turned during the stream. she’s absolutely adorable

okay but can we talk about how smiley jack was when we showed him the clips???? he’s down bad too

that’s why i’m doing it. i wouldn’t if i weren’t sure they are attracted each other.

i can’t wait till saturday😫 they’re going to be so cute!!!!

he’s going to kill her with adorableness with his dad jokes

he already killed her with the sussy baka thing. i can’t believe he said that. he’s lucky he’s pretty

Y/N, AT THE SAME TIME MASON WAS TEXTING ON THE GROUP, OPENED THE MESSAGES APP. She had a huge smile on her face as she texted.

he really thinks he’s being a mastermind 😭😭😭 it’s so funny

i know 😭 i bet he’s planning everything on the gc with the girls. he has no idea. i feel powerful😎

you are so cute 😫 i can’t wait to hug tf out of you

cute? so, in your scream reactions you call me hot and say you’d be lucky to have been one of my victims and irl you call me CUTE? 🙄

you’re not ethan landry, jack

he’s top 1 on my love of my life list

what place am i in?

third

THIRD?? who’s second? 🥺

taylor swift

oh yeah. should’ve figured.

well, to make you feel bad, you’re in my top 1.

i don’t feel bad at all, jack

oh… well okay. i am totally fine being in your top 3, tbh. at least i made it.

NOW i feel bad😫

i really want to hug you, like the thought of it brings me butterflies

just a couple of hours left ❤️❤️

we have two entire days alone before we meet with the group

i can’t wait to see your pretty face in person🥹🥹

ughhhhhh

stop being so sweet when you’re not here😫😫

i’ll see you in exactly 8 hours :)

good night gorgeous 💕

night pretty boy 💖

Y/N STOOD IN FRONT OF THE METAL STAIRCASE, WITH A SIGN THAT SAID LOVE OF MY LIFE #3. She offered Jack to pick him up from the airport, so there she was, waiting anxiously for her boy.

She couldn’t believe it was actually happening. They had been talking for a while now—he sent her a dm only a few days after the stream, and had been talking non-stop ever since. Both of them have been open about their feelings for each other, as they were pretty obvious, and they basically acted like a couple. Even though that had never met in person, until now.

Jack’s heart stopped when he caught sight of the beautiful girl with the sign, which made him laugh a lot. He pushed through the people, muttering quick so sorry’s until he reached her. Y/N was looking up at him attentively, as if trying to take in every detail about him. The sparks in her eyes made his stomach go crazy.

“You’re real” he breathed.

“I mean, there’s this theory that we are actually characters in some big videogam-“

Jack grabbed her by the cheeks to pull her close to him, so their foreheads were touching. His smile could literally light up a whole town “You can tell me all about your interesting theories, which you know I love to hear. But right now I’m deciding if I should kiss you or hug you”

“In that order, please” she said, completely wonderstrucked by his close presence.

And so they kissed. Y/N found out Jack was a slow kisser, which she absolutely enjoyed because she never wanted that magnificent kiss to end. And Jack discovered Y/N was very touchy—her hands wouldn’t stay in just one place, but she explored every inch of visible skin.

“Now I want my hug” she said after a couple of seconds of trying to recover her breath. Jack threw his head back laughing before embracing her in the so awaited hug. “Yup, never leaving these arms” she squished her cheek against his chest.

The grip around her shoulders tightened “Thank god, cause I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re now forever trapped in here”.

“Um, could you please move?” one old woman said.

Y/N sighed as they pulled away “Taylor Swift was right when she said forever is the sweetest con”

“I’m sorry. You two are really adorable but I want to get home already” the woman said.

“No, it’s okay. We’re sorry” Y/N smiled kindly.

“Let us help you with your baggage” Jack offered, taking one of the suitcases while Y/N grabbed one of her bags.

“How long have you two been together?” the woman asked as they walked her to a taxi.

“Oh-uh…” Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to think they were together even though they never said the word ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’.

“Three months” Jack spoke up. “We live in different states, but we talk everyday. We never made it official, but in case you were wondering, and this is for you too Y/N/N, I feel that we are a couple”

The woman looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer. The girl smiled brightly, feeling the weight of her heart evaporating “I feel that way too, Jack”.

#jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jackchampion #jack champion x reader #jack champion oneshot #jack champion fluff #jack champion imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry fluff #jack champion fanfic #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader

535 notes · View notes

clarktooncrossing · 2 months ago

Text

DUDELZ of the Damned | La Doncella de El Río

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK!

A chill is in the air. You can feel it can't you? Perhaps you even recognize it. That same chill arrives every year right on the dot. With it comes a frightful howl in the moonlight, the only other sound to be heard. Otherwise there is a strange calmness settling around you, like the point of ease before the storm. By now the howling has stopped. It has been replaced by a different sound. Footsteps. Big, heavy, dragging, as if the figure didn't quite know how to use their legs. Perhaps it's a random passerby. Perhaps it's a rotting, frightful feature freshly risen from the grave. Perhaps it's some other, unspeakable horror waiting to pounce! Whatever it is, you're not waiting around to find out! Yet no matter how far you run, it can't be escaped. The chill in the air, the howling of the wind, the heavy footsteps, it all leads back to one thing: October is here! And with it comes the return of the DUDELZ of the Damned!

Yes weirdos, like last year, my approximation of Sketchtober has returned. I call it an proxy because there was no list of prompts. Nah, that'd be too limiting. This is yet another case where I compiled my own list of ideas, sketched them out, then used one color per picture. With all that said, let's see what spoopy scribblings await us today!

Recall the tale of Crocenstein, a reptilian monstrosity made in the laboratory of Doctor Clarkenstein. His story continues deep within the jungles of South America circa 1500 BC. It's also the beginning of Princess Alberta’s story, second heir to the queen of the Amazons. Much to the dismay of her majesty. As far as the malicious monarch, the eldest of the two always had to make up for the youngest. Princess Nara wasn’t as cold-hearted as her mother. Her biggest concern was her sister’s safety. Not that Alberta ever noticed. Being wrapped up in her mom’s mind games meant she was always used as a pawn. Such was the case when the Queen ordered her daughter to find the Necroscroll, a lost piece of parchment fabled for raising the dead. Years passed and it seemed her majesty’s plight to quietly exile her daughter had worked. Until she walked up the temple with the scroll in hand. Never had Alberta felt prouder. It was the last thing she felt before a blade was buried into her heart. A horrified Nara watched as her mother slaughtered her sister for the sake of using her blood to activate the Necroscoll. Only problem? Even with her daughter’s blood inking the paper, she couldn’t understand a word of it. Less so when Nara chopped off her head. Mother’s mind games had taken her sister. When all was over, all the princess could do was bury the scroll, mummify her sister, and pray that the next life would treat her more kindly. Undoubtedly what happened next wasn’t exactly what she had in mind…

What comes next can wait for tomorrow. For now, let me explain how this came to be. Like many pieces this year, this one acts as a sequel:

My original plan for Crocenstein was inevitably to draw his bride. Sadly every attempt I made to draw Alberta in the role came out looking lackluster. Not terrible, mind you. Just not what I had envisioned in my head. Eventually I was forced to scrap the idea altogether. Turns out this was a blessing in disguise. During the last year I had canned my 3K characters, meaning the Clarktooniverse was in need of a new mummy. Luckier still, South America was known for mummies older than those in Egypt. With this in mind I combined The Bride and the Mummy to craft this version of Alberta you see before you. She even comes complete with a white streak as my own little tribute. Here's hoping you all enjoyed this pic as much as I enjoyed making it. And remember; every country has mummies, so you're not safe anywhere!

BONUS QUESTION: Are mummies your favorite monster?

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

2 notes · View notes

danbisroom · 9 months ago

Text

Ep. 7 - We’ll return when we drift apart

Hello my fellow souls,

welcome back to Danbi’s Room, your weekly dose of safe space. Go grab a cup of something warm and get yourself cosy.

I hope you had a nice and fulfilling week!

I’m back with original pieces, thank you again for your patience and understanding.

Goodness, so many things to say…okay let’s start.

I feel that, in general, we have given up on magic. I wouldn’t say it’s because “we have the proof it’s total nonsense”. I see it more as “ we got to a point where we’re conditioned to think we can’t afford to believe in it”. Now, obviously this topic is sociologically complicated, but at the end of the day it doesn’t even matter, ‘cause we’re in Danbi’s Room and what matters is to talk about our feelings and share stuff right?

So, call me crazy but I do believe in magic. I also believe that the concept of what magic is can vary for each one of us. An advice I’d give you is to start looking for it in the small things. You know, it’s just another way of connecting the dots and following what our heart actually wants.

Like the broken compass.

You know, the one Jack Sparrow uses. It doesn’t point to the North. As mad and useless that might seem at first, it’s the opposite. The so-called broken compass guides you towards what you truly desire, towards what your soul actually craves. Now, this naturally raises two questions. The first would be that you need to have at least an idea of what you want for all this to work. Not an easy task at all, given that you have to set directions and determine a path (that can totally change along the way), but it’s not impossible. It’s hard. it’s tiring, it requires effort, sure, but it’s between you and…you.

The second question is that if you’re not already surrounded by your people you’re going to be misunderstood, judged, looked down upon. Heavily. Why would you use a compass that seems broken to anybody else? Why would you trust it?

The point is exactly that: trusting the compass means trusting yourself. Trusting your gut, trusting your dreams who will be manifested along the way. Trusting your own magic and the one encompassing you. Again, most people don’t do that, not anymore. They let their wise inner child be buried alive. They’re still there screaming but nobody listens. Even so, magic is still such a huge component of our being we are instinctively drawn to anything resembling it: fantasy fiction, dressing up, being in Nature, religions, praying, any type of art really…and more things to count. Not that differentiating these categories is pointless but I believe we should also acknowledge they all somehow fall under the term “magic”.

Yeah I digressed. But it’s useful to make my point, which is that people who don’t believe in magic will try to drag you down in every possible way. They’ll say they do it for you, that they love you, that it’s better their way, it’s safer. And you’re crazy, you will fail, or, even worse, you’re already a failure. You’re a “weirdo”. They envy the sparkle in your eyes, that glimpse of the universe you got within you.

You might not agree with what I’m about to say, but, for God’s sake, don’t listen to them. Even if they’re loved ones, don’t let them kill you, don’t bury your inner child alive. Please, I beg you. Listen to that kid, they know better. Protect them, they will protect you. Even when it’s difficult and terrifying, hold on a bit more. Celebrate your unique way to live, of orienting yourself. You create you’re own direction, isn’t that amazing? And we’re born with it, we’re born oriented, we’re born knowing how to relate our body to space, both internally and externally. I find that extraordinary.

Don’t lose that.

And remember: you’re not crazy, and even if you are, that’s fine.

If they mock you, if they laugh behind your back, they are, most likely, even crazier than you.

Today’s song recommendation is, for obvious reasons, Broken Compass, both the 3Racha version and the Stray Kids version. I would take a look at the lyrics if I were you, while enjoying CB97’s great production.

I hope you enjoyed this episode and that you have a beautiful week ahead of you!

I’ll see you in the next one, big hug!

With love, yours,

Danbi

#blog #community #cozycore #cozy #danbisroom #chans room #bang chan #stray kids #safe space #aesthetic #crazy #universe #manifestation #neverland #inner child #broken compass #jack sparrow

2 notes · View notes

sapphic-swiftie13 · 2 years ago

Text

After an award show

I've got to be honest with you guys, this might be the horniest text I've ever written.

My excuse for that is that I'm hormonal and horny, because of my period.

I am so sorry for Brie Larson if she ever comes across this text. I'm sorry Brie, I really am.

I also hope this text makes up for the last one-shots that were really short.

Okay bye, I need to take a cold shower.

This was your first time ever attending an award show. It was quite scary if you were completely honest with yourself. To your advantage, you had Samuel L. Jackson by your side. He was your costar, and he had also turned out to be a good and close friend. Someone you could turn to for anything. Advice, and help, no matter the issue, he was always there to talk to.

"There is so many people here... goddamn," you said nervously, clinging to his arm.

"Don't worry... they'll all soon find their seats, just like we will," he reassured you.

Letting out a breath you didn't know you had been holding in, you followed him, until you finally could sit down. Looking around, you could see all these famous actors and actresses talking and laughing.

They really did have a good time. But you couldn't. You knew that there was a slim chance you could end up winning an award, and it scared you, to stand up at the big stage having to tell a speech, which you hadn't prepared in the slightest.

Noticing that nearly all the women wore dresses made you anxious, it felt like you blended too in with the men as you wore a suit.

You took out the flask you had stashed in your pocket and drank from it, the burning sensation in your throat gave you something else to think about.

"Are you feeling okay?" Samuel asked, immediately laughing when you started drinking even more.

"No, I can't be here sober... it's giving major anxiety vibes... I know."

"I'm also getting 'major alcoholic vibes' from the flask you've been carrying all this time."

"Oh god, you're too old to say major and vibes in the same sentence..."

"What? You're the one teaching me about what all the young people are doing and saying..."

You only laughed in response, feeling more relaxed as the alcohol slowly entered your bloodstream.

"So, now we just sit here and wait?" you asked, as you noticed Scarlett Johansson passing by.

"Oh my god... did you see her?"

"Who?"

"Scarlett motherfucking Johansson!" you squealed, too loudly for your own liking.

You looked Samuel right in the eyes, and said, "y'know, she is so fine, her smile, and those gorgeous eyes, like, I can't, I'm fangirling too much... she is so beautiful."

Samuel looked at you in disbelief.

"Gay awakening right there, like, if you didn't feel yourself getting warm and flustered as you stared at her on the big screen in a movie theatre, then you're a weirdo. A legend, an icon, and utterly stunning, is what she is!" you rambled on, forgetting where you were.

Someone cleared their throat right beside you, and you slowly looked up at them.

"You called my name?"

"Oh, God... shit. I am sorry."

She just laughed at your response. "No, no, it's fine! Glad to have helped you figure out your sexuality... you're looking quite attractive yourself, especially in that suit."

She flashed you a smile, winked at you and walked away swaying her hips. You slowly leaned back in your chair, praying that no cameras caught that embarrassing moment.

Samuel sat beside you laughing until he couldn't breathe, coughing, tears welling in his eyes.

"Are you sure she isn't your crush?" he said in between coughs, grinning from ear to ear.

"She isn't anymore... but believe me, she was my celebrity crush for quite some time."

"Mhhmmm..." he muttered out, unconvinced.

He tried to look where you were currently looking. Trying to see any faces he might recognize, that could be your type.

"Who is it then, your celebrity crush?" he asked smiling.

"If I told you that, then I'm never living it down."

"Oh, come on... give me a hint at least."

"It's.... a woman."

"No shit, sherlock. You're the gayest person I've ever met."

"You like women more than men like women... do you get that, that's some next level shit..." he said, stating facts.

All you did was laugh.

"True... true..." you mumbled, as the host walked out on stage.

All the talking from around the big room died down, and soon every head was turned in the direction of the stage.

A lot of famous names were said, but only a few of them won awards. Leading actress was far out of your reach, so you sat comfortable in your seat.

Then it happened. There was not a lot of categories left, but of course, this one, you had been nominated for, the words Rising Star popped up on the big screen. Then the image of yourself, another actress, and two actors came up right under the text. You looked absolutely terrified. Your hands were getting sweaty. This was it.

"Now or never..." Samuel whispered, taking ahold of your hand.

Then your heart stopped.

The host said your name.

Your hand was squeezed softly, and Samuel stood up, pulling you with him.

In shock, you stood there with your mouth open, not believing your ears.

You didn't think you were going to win.

You hadn't prepared a speech, or anything.

Samuel pulled you in for a big hug, and you hugged him back, feeling his safe and secure arms around you pulled you back to reality.

All around you people clapped, congratulating you.

The director patted your shoulder, and grinned at you. All you did was smile, in pure shock.

Then Samuel put both his hands up in the air, and you hit them both, giving him the high ten in pure joy.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and walked towards the stage, guiding you.

Once you stood on the stage, you didn't really know what to say.

Nervously you walked up to the microphone, and Samuel gave you a thumbs up as he started walking back to his seat. "Come here!" you whispered at him, scared shitless by the lights that were shining at you.

"This is your award!" he whispered back, as you were internally freaking out.

"Well, I'm going to shit my pants! Get your ass over here unless you want to deal with that mess and clean it up."

The audience laughed. You only got more nervous. The microphone had picked your words up.

"You've got this!" Samuel reassured you, smiling, and now you actually let him go back to his seat.

You sighed before looking out at all the other actors and actresses, overwhelmed by how they all looked at you.

Then the host came over with your award, and you nervously thanked him as he gave it to you.

"I don't know what to say... I didn't prepare for this, at all..." you said into the microphone, voice quavering.

You pulled out your flask and chugged down the rest of the burning liquor.

"Oooh, that stings..." you stated, as you carefully hid it again.

Samuel laughed, grinning from his seat.

"Wait is that allowed, to drink on live television?!" you asked, getting even more nervous.

"Fuck, I probably shouldn't have done that... shit, am I allowed to say fuck? No wait... sorry... can I swear?" you asked, looking out at the crowd with fear in your eyes.

Once again, the audience laughed, but even louder this time.

The panic on your face getting clearer by each second that passed.

"Okay.... well, uh, first off, I have to thank the director, the producers and the whole crew, everyone behind the cameras, and in front of them. Thank you to Samuel L. Jackson, for helping me while filming the movie, thank you for all the laughter and the smiles that you repeatedly put on my face. Thank you to my parents, for supporting me, and letting me stand here and embarrass myself! Thank you to all the fans that watched the movie, both in theatres and in the comfort of your own home... Thank you for making this possible, I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for you guys!" you said, as your nerves slowly but surely disappeared.

"Now... is there a bar nearby? I need more alcohol, or else I'm going to drop-kick a child. Sorry, that was a joke. I do in fact not hate children...... that much," you joked, with a deadpan face, making the crowd burst out in laughter.

As the laughter was dying down, you walked down the stairs with the award in your hand.

When you had gotten far enough from the stage, you ran toward Samuel, in a hurry to get to your seat again.

"That was good! You did great!" he reassured you as you sat down in your chair.

"You really think so?"

"Of course!" he beamed at you.

When they had put ads on for television, all the people started moving, finding other groups to chat to.

"You said that you were thirsty? Was that also a joke?" Samuel asked you, with a smirk.

"No, I definitely need more alcohol..."

"Well, let's find us some..." he said, standing up.

Once again you were following him, feeling lost like a puppy.

You finally came to a stop when Samuel had snatched two champagne glasses from a cater that walked by.

"Finally..." you said and took a sip of it.

Then you spotted her. Your celebrity crush, in the flesh, walking towards you, only a few meters away from where you were currently standing. You were now choking because of the champagne that had went down your airway by mistake as you were caught off guard.

Samuel patted your back, and looked in your direction as you coughed, trying to play it off.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

"She's your crush..." he said loudly.

You smacked him in the arm with your award. "Hush!"

"I know her! We've acted together countless times! She's a good friend of mine!"

"Exactly!" you answered him, and he caught on.

Then she came over, smiling at Samuel, and then you. She went in for a hug, and there you stood, awkwardly watching them as she hugged him tightly.

"I don't believe we've met before... it's so great to finally meet you, I'm Brie! And congrats with the award, well deserved might I add!" She congratulated you, a smile tugging at her lips.

You didn't know how to speak. Words left your vocabulary. Your mind went blank.

Samuel nudged your shoulder.

"Uh... ehm... thank you... nice to meet you too!" you rambled on, internally screaming.

"I think it'll be starting again soon... but you're coming to the after-party, right, Samuel? Oh, you're also invited, a friend of Samuel is a friend of mine!" she asked him, grinning, walking away towards her seat.

Samuel just nodded at her, and she smiled back, disappearing into the crowd again.

"Now this... this is something you'll never live down... that was embarrassing to watch!" he stated, laughing, as you chugged down your champagne.

After the embarrassing encounter with your crush, time seemed to fly by, and soon enough it was time to leave.

It was unreal, all the flashing lights that blurred your vision as you walked out of there. Cameras in every direction, nearly blinding you.

All you could think about as you and Samuel walked to his car was the fact that you were going to an after-party, at Brie Larson's place.

Samuel opened the car door for you.

"Thank you..." you mumbled.

Then he got into the driver's seat and started driving. "Where are we going?" you asked, looking out the window, fidgeting with your award, trying to find out where Brie lived.

"I am driving you home..."

"What? Excuse me, I am so coming with you to the party!"

"Of course, but not with the award, you're not."

You softly hit his shoulder in response.

"Scared you, didn't I?"

You stared daggers at him.

"So scared of not getting to be in Brie's presence... you really do have a crush on her..."

"Hey! It is not my fault that she looks so..."

"Hot? Sexy? Gorgeous? Pretty? Stunning?" he asked mockingly, teasing you.

"If you put it that way... then yes. I was going to say, attractive... but those words also describe her very well."

He only laughed, pulling over outside of your apartment.

Soon enough you had put your award on a shelf in the safety of your own home, and then you went to freshen up, practically drowning yourself in perfume, fixed your mascara, and put on more lipstick.

Then you walked out again, happy that his car still stood there.

"What took you so long?"

"I had to freshen up!"

"Right... like you weren't turning heads already."

"I need her to look at me... meaning that those who already has been looking doesn't matter."

"Scarlett Johansson looked at you..."

"Because I said her name, catching her attention."

"She also winked at you..."

"True," you said, while smirking.

"Look, right there, that's her place..."

"Uh... there's not a lot of cars here," you said, noticing the nearly empty street.

"It's a small, and intimate after-party."

You only gulped at his words.

"Come on, you don't want to keep her waiting, do you?" he asked jokingly.

He knocked on the door and entered, once again you followed him like you were lost and in desperate need of help.

"There you are! Thought I recognized your car from the window!" Brie beamed, pulling him in for another hug.

As they pulled away from each other she looked at you and smiled.

"You're looking so left out, come here!" she said as she lazily put her arms on your shoulders, pulling you into her for a hug. Her perfume crept up your nose, and you could feel yourself lean into her touch just as she pulled away.

She was simply intoxicating.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked and gestured to the counter with countless of drinks and bottles.

Samuel grabbed a beer and thanked Brie, then she walked away, greeting the other people that just walked in the door.

"Do you want something?" he asked, but you shook your head, you were already tipsy and knew you probably shouldn't drink more if you wanted to remember this night.

Then he walked away, and you trailed behind him, until he sat down on a couch in what you presumed was her living room.

"So well decorated," you said, sitting down opposite of Samuel and pointed to the paintings at the walls, the plants, and looked at how all the colours seemed to blend into each other.

"Thank you..." a voice you could recognize anywhere spoke out, then you felt her sit down beside you. Your breath hitched at how close she yet again was.

Looking at Samuel didn't help; he was desperately trying to hide his smile.

"So, congratulations again, on winning, must've been a big moment for you..." the blonde woman beside you said, her voice sending shivers down your spine.

"It was... I mean, I was so shocked... didn't think it was really happening..." you mumbled, scared of embarrassing yourself in front of her again.

"I think you handled it well!" she complimented you, as her eyes met yours.

You quickly looked away, and you could feel her smiling.

"So, what made you want to become an actress?" Brie asked, trying to get to know you.

"Uh... throughout my childhood I always had to pretend to be someone I'm not... so I decided to make use of that..." you answered, your voice slightly quavering.

"Oh..." she mumbled, realizing that the topic wasn't really a happy one.

"But now I'm not pretending anymore... I mean, the closet was made of glass..." you said, letting out a small chuckle.

"I see..." she answered, understanding what you talked about and flashed you a smile.

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" Samuel asked, smirking from the couch opposite of yours.

"A drink would be quite nice, actually..." you said, and quickly stood up, glad to have gotten the chance to escape from the awkwardness so you could compose yourself.

Samuel chuckled and took a sip of his beer.

"I'm going to get a refill..." Brie said as she stood up too, immediately destroying your plan.

She placed her hand at the small of your back, slightly pushing you, guiding you to the kitchen even though you had just been there.

"So... what do you want?" she asked softly beside you, gesturing to the beverages, but you were too distracted by her facial features to notice.

"Uh... what?"

"What do you want to drink?"

"Oh..." you answered, as you realized you had misunderstood.

"What did you think I was asking you?" she asked, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

"Uh... ehm, nothing?" you stuttered as all you thought about was how much you wanted her. You wanted to feel her close, twisted in bedsheets.

"I'll have some wine..." you said, trying to play it off.

She poured you some of the red liquor. All you could focus on was her slender fingers holding onto the glass.

"What's gotten you so distracted?" she asked, as she gave you the glass, her fingers grazing your own.

"Uh... nothing."

"If you say so," she hummed unconvinced as she refilled her own glass.

You both walked back to the living room, with your drinks in hand and sat down on the couch. Then you recognized a buff man walking in.

"Oh my, he's even bigger in person," you said, not believing your own eyes.

"Chris Hemsworth, yeah, he's... strong. But don't worry, he's kind as a teddy bear," Brie whispered in your ear, her hot breath on your bare skin making you shudder.

"Hey, congratulations on the award!" Chris said, shaking your hand. "I'm Chris!"

"Thank you..." you muttered out and noticed how his muscles nearly ripped his shirt open.

He then walked over to the other brawny men, Sebastian Stan, and Chris Evans. It was impossible to not notice them, all the ladies were sneaking glances at them every other second.

"So, how do you guys know each other?" you asked Brie and Samuel, trying to strike up a conversation.

"We've acted in many movies together, actually..." Samuel answered, glancing at Brie.

"Captain Marvel, Unicorn Store, Kong: Skull Island, is some of them, to name a few," she answered and took a sip of her wine.

"Is it just me or are you like, really tense? You don't seem to be relaxed at all..." she followed up, in a worried tone.

It was hard to think, or speak, or do anything at all. She had picked up on how nervous you were around her.

"Excuse me, where's the bathroom?" you asked, getting up.

"Down the hall, first door to the left," she answered, glancing at Samuel who only shrugged his shoulders. You chugged down all the wine, regretting it immediately, and placed the empty glass on the table and practically ran towards the bathroom.

It was impossible to act even the tiniest bit normal. The effect she had on you was just too much. As you tried to open the bathroom door you quickly realized that it was locked.

Deciding to stand there and wait, Brie caught up with you.

"Are you okay?" she asked, standing right in front of you, just close enough to touch.

"Yes... just overwhelmed."

"What's bothering you?"

"It's nothing..." you said refusing to meet her gaze.

She took a step closer to you, and your breath hitched in response.

Slowly she took a hold of your chin and forced you to look at her.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asked with one raised eyebrow.

"What?" you asked back, as your cheeks were covered in a red flush.

It somehow felt illegal to admit that you desperately wanted her.

Your eyes trailed downwards, her blue dress resting at the top of her breasts, the fabric hugging her in all the right places.

You were wishing that her dress would slip down, just a tiny bit, but you scolded yourself for even having the thought.

"Is that why you're acting like this?" she asked, noticing where your eyes were wandering on her body.

You looked up at her, meeting her eyes again. Somehow, something just took over you, it was difficult to distinguish if it was arousal or confidence, because in a matter of seconds you put your arms around her neck and kissed her hungrily.

She didn't kiss you back, just put her hands on your shoulders, carefully pushing you away.

"You're drunk."

"Me being drunk doesn't change the fact that I've been crushing on you for so long..." you admitted, cupping her cheek.

"You're so gorgeous... it actually hurts," you complimented her, your thumb stroking her cheek.

"You're not thinking clearly," she answered, letting out a sigh.

"So, me being inebriated means that I don't know what I want anymore?" you asked upset.

"That's not what I said..."

"I want you so bad... I need you to just touch me-" you tried to speak but she cut you off.

"I don't want to take advantage of you being intoxicated," she said in a stern voice.

"Well, you're not!"

"You're throwing yourself at me, something you most likely wouldn't have done if you were sober," she explained in a gentle tone.

Getting slightly angry you brushed past her and headed towards the kitchen. As you walked through the living room, Samuel asked, "where's Brie?"

You didn't answer him, just kept walking, and he immediately understood that you weren't in a good mood.

She had told you that you were too drunk, and you decided to drink even more, just because you were hurt, and didn't take rejection well. Not a good solution.

You grabbed a beer and walked over to Chris Hemsworth.

"Hey..." you said, and he instantly moved a bit to the side, making space for you.

"How's it going?" he asked a little bit concerned at the disgusted look plastered on your face.

"Could have been better..."

"Someone pissed you off?" Sebastian asked, and looked over your shoulder, trying to see if someone looked guilty for making you mad.

"Yup," you said, and turned around, glancing at Brie as she sat down on the couch opposite of Samuel.

Chris Evans started laughing, with his hand placed firmly on his chest.

"Larson made you angry?" he asked, shortly after.

"How?" Sebastian asked confused.

"She's so kind, how can she make anyone mad?" Hemsworth chipped in, looking at how she pulled at her dress.

"I tried to kiss her..." you admitted, and chugged half of the beer.

"Easy there..." Hemsworth said and carefully nudged the bottle away from your lips.

"What do you mean, tried to kiss her?" Evans asked.

"I put my arms around her neck, and kissed her, she pushed me away."

"Why?" Sebastian asked glancing at Brie.

"Because she's so kind and pretty..."

"I think he meant to ask why she pushed you away..." Chris Hemsworth said and chuckled.

"Oh..." you mumbled, realizing you once again had misunderstood something this night.

"She said she didn't want to take advantage of me being drunk."

"That's a fairly good reason to not kiss someone," Sebastian said, agreeing with Brie's actions.

"She could have been nicer about it," you said, and took a sip of your beer.

"What do you mean?" Chris Evans asked, trying to understand the whole situation.

"She said I was throwing myself at her... and that I wouldn't do that if I was sober... but if I was sober, I wouldn't have had the guts to even look at her..." you admitted, feeling dizzy.

"I think you should apologize to her," Chris Hemsworth said, and took a sip of his own beer.

The two other men nodded in agreement.

"You really think so?" you asked, scared of embarrassing yourself even more.

"Yeah, definitely," Sebastian said, with a smile.

"Okay... thank you guys... for the talk."

They all chuckled as you stepped away and made your way to the couch.

You sat down beside her and felt her eyes on your side as you placed the beer bottle on the table.

Glancing at her you said, "I'm sorry..."

"For what?" she asked slightly confused.

"For kissing you... and acting like a dick afterwards."

Samuel's eyes went wide. "You did what?" he asked shocked.

"It's fine... we all do things we'll later regret while we're drunk," Brie said, putting an arm around you, pulling you toward her in a playful manner.

You completely froze for some seconds. She was sending so many mixed signals, and you couldn't process any of them because of how inebriated you were. So, all you did in response was lean into her touch, focusing on how her hand was resting on your hip.

"Is that Tom Hiddleston and Tessa Thompson?" you asked, looking at the two people laughing in the corner.

"Yes, it certainly is," Brie answered you as Tessa got her phone out and started showing Tom a video or something.

You grabbed the bottle on the table and drank the rest of the beer.

"Should she drink this much?" Brie asked Samuel.

"I'm right here," you said, hitting her softly in the shoulder.

"I haven't really gone out drinking with her before, so I don't know her tolerance..." Samuel said and looked at you again.

Brie only huffed as you got up again, stumbling as you walked to the kitchen again, your vision already slightly blurry.

You got excited seeing a bottle of vodka on the counter.

You filled up a small shot glass and poured the liquor into it and chugged it.

Filling it up again, and ready to chug it down a voice spoke out, "I really don't think you should have any more to drink."

You chugged it down, not listening to the woman.

"Too late..." you said, chuckling.

"So... why are you drinking so much?" she asked in a disappointed tone.

"I'm drinking so I don't have to deal with my feelings."

"That's never a good idea, honey."

"I know... but it feels good to just not worry for some time..."

"That's the high speaking... soon you'll be puking and wishing you never drank anything in the first place."

"You might be right... you might be wrong. Who knows?" you asked jokingly, slurring your words.

Then you tried to walk back to the living room, nearly tripping.

"I've got you..." she said and held around you, guiding you, that's when you noticed that it was Scarlett.

"Someone should take care of her... and drive her home..." she said loudly, looking around the room, noticing that everyone was holding a drink in their hand, too inebriated to drive.

"She can rest in my bed and sober up..." Brie said as she stood up and walked over to the two of you. When Scarlett let go, you nearly fell, but Brie wrapped her arm around your waist and started guiding you towards her bedroom, and you could hear the group of brawny men laughing.

"I don't need your help..." you said getting annoyed at her firm grip.

"You sure?" she asked chuckling.

"Yes..." you scoffed, and she slowly let go, and you used the wall to steady yourself as you walked, your vision so blurry that you couldn't see what was in front of you.

You felt a door handle and tried to open it. "That's the bathroom," Brie informed you in a gentle voice.

"Let me help you..." Brie said and wrapped her arm around your waist again, guiding you further down the small hallway.

"It's in here..." she said, opening the door, and helped you over to the bed.

You sat there on the bed, looking at her, as the room felt like it was spinning. Then you felt her taking off your shoes.

"I'm placing them right here... beside the bed," she informed you, like she was scared you'd think she was stealing them.

"Okay..." you mumbled, understanding that she didn't want to get muck in her bed.

"Do you want help taking off your jacket?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Mhmm," was the sound that left your mouth.

She started undoing the buttons, and took it off you, and folded it, placing it on the chair beside her dresser.

"Pants too?" she asked as you sat there, staring out into space.

"Mhhmm," you muttered out again, as your gaze landed on her again.

"Okay, you need to stand up now..."

You slowly stood up having a hard time keeping your balance, then you tried to unbutton your pants but failed miserably as your blurry vision screwed it up for you. Then you felt her hands meet yours, only to move them away so she could do it for you.

"Thank you..." you whispered, as she dragged the pants down your legs, and you stumbled out of them, only to flop down on the bed, your head hitting the pillow.

She folded the pants and placed them on your jacket, walked back to you, and pulled the covers over you.

"Night..." she said, while walking away and closed the door, and as soon as you closed your eyes you dozed off.

Then you woke up and felt someone beside you. Carefully you sat up, looking out the window, realizing that it was pitch black outside.

Looking down at the woman beside you that slept peacefully was a weird experience. Your head was hurting, your hungover hitting you like a truck, but seeing her half naked beside you made you aroused.

You laid back down and tried to fall asleep again. Her hot breath hitting the side of your face time and time again.

You shifted around, trying to find something else to focus on. She was sleeping only a few inches away from you and it didn't help that you could feel the warmth of her body radiating. She drove you crazy as her warmth went straight down to your core, making you even more aroused.

You kept on shifting every few minutes. She was so close to you, and you clenched your thighs together, hoping that the throbbing sensation in your clit would just disappear. But it didn't, it only grew stronger.

A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you gave up finding a position to sleep in.

Then you felt movement beside you.

"Are you alright?" she asked groggily.

"Yes... I'm sorry I woke you..." you apologized, clenching your legs once more, thankful that you faced away from her.

"Are you sure that you're okay?" she asked, not convinced.

"Yes... just... go back to sleep."

She placed her hand on your thigh under the covers and said, "if you're not feeling well, then I'm not going to sleep."

You softly moaned at her touch since she was so close to where you needed her. You cursed yourself for doing that, especially loud enough for her to hear.

She sat up and you could feel her eyes on you, like she was staring.

"Turn around..." she said, in a stern voice. You only gulped, scared of her seeing how hot and bothered you were.

"Come on, turn around."

"No," you protested, nearly groaning at her words.

"Fine," she said, and then took ahold of your shoulder and pushed you down, so you laid on your back.

"Your forehead..." she muttered out, "glistening because of sweat..."

Your breath hitched as she analyzed everything about you.

"Your breathing is uneven; your chest is moving fast. It seems like you've been awake awhile, and you're alert..."

"Did you just masturbate?" she asked, one eyebrow raised as she stared down at you.

"What?! No!" you yelled out, not believing she really had asked you that.

"I wouldn't do that with you in the bed... that's creepy... a violation," you said covering your face with your hands.

"Then what's wrong?" she asked, trying to figure out why you were so on edge.

"Nothing!"

"You literally moaned when I touched you, what is going on with you?"

"Just drop it... go back to sleep," you pleaded.

"Is this about what you said when you were drunk in the hallway?"

"Huh?" you answered confused.

"You don't remember?" she asked surprised, with a smirk on her face.

You went silent, you had no memories of talking to her in the hallway.

She hovered over you, leaning slightly down.

"What are you doing?" you asked as your eyes were frantically looking all over her face.

"Did you mean it?" she asked, and her breath hit your face.

"Mean what?" you asked back, uncertain and scared of what you had said to her while being drunk.

She bit her lip, looking down at you.

"You said you wanted me badly, and that you needed me to touch you..." she explained, and a red flush covered your cheeks.

"I stopped the whole thing, telling you that you were drunk, and I guess I was right, because you were so drunk you don't even remember it."

"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked, searching your face for answers.

You laid under her afraid to answer.

"Do you need me to... touch you? Is that it?" she asked, and put her hand on your thigh again, softly massaging it.

You didn't dare to answer, scared that she'd stop if you said the wrong thing.

"Do you need me closer?" she asked, knowing you wouldn't say anything unless you wanted her to stop.

The pool of wetness between your thighs grew larger as her hand slowly crept closer to where you needed her.

"Do you need me... right here?" she asked, as she rubbed circles on your clit over your underwear.

You let out a soft moan and gripped her t-shirt and pulled her down until her lips met yours. She was calm and collected, you were not. You kissed her like you'd never get the chance to again, hard, and desperate.

She pulled away and chuckled. "So, you did mean it."

"Yes..." you mumbled, blushing.

She leaned down again, and teased you, her lips brushing yours, but not really touching. Every time you tried to close the gap she would pull slightly away, making you reach out for her only to slump back down again.

"Don't do that..." you said as you once again stared up at her, pouting.

"Do what?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

When she leaned down to tease you again, you placed your hands at her sides and stopped her from moving away. You carefully pressed your lips against hers, moving softly in sync with her. Slowly you let your hands slip under her t-shirt, roaming upwards, but you didn't dare to go higher than her toned stomach. She pulled away from you, looking at you with curiosity in her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked as your hands had stopped and simply just rested right under her breasts.

"Nothing..." you stuttered, afraid of messing something up.

"You can touch me, y'know, I am as much yours as you are mine."

"Okay..." you said, letting out a breath you didn't know you had held in.

Still, you didn't do anything. She pulled her t-shirt over her head threw it away behind her and looked down at how you stared at her chest.

"Like this..." she informed you, placing her hands on top of yours, making you grope her. Her soft flesh in the palm of your hands felt nice, but also wildly illicit.

You softly squeezed, massaging them, fondling her breasts, taking your time. Looking up at her you got flustered seeing her biting her lip, with her eyes closed.

"Sensitive?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, while sitting up.

"Mhm..." she mumbled, as you leaned down to meet her chest. You latched onto one of her breasts, sensually stimulating her skin with your tongue, softly nibbling at her nipple.

You then did the same to her other breast, savouring the feeling of her soft flesh on your tongue.

She looked so pretty, and she was warm and soft to the touch. Gently you pressed kisses from her breasts and up to her collarbone. Trying to feel every part of her. She tilted her head giving you access to her neck, and you placed sloppy wet kisses all over her sensitive skin.

Lightly sucking, and nibbling at her skin, making small bruises on her flesh.

You softly kissed her jaw, and chin, until you finally pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.

She eagerly kissed you back, and you parted your lips, letting her slip inside. She was passionate and loving. Then she carefully started to unbutton your shirt and pulled away from your lips.

You pouted, but as soon as her forehead rested against yours, you smiled, brushing your nose with hers, making a small chuckle leave her mouth.

Slowly, she undressed you, and threw your shirt away, her arms reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. She smirked as your breasts fell and threw your bra away too, then she carefully pushed you until you were laying on your back and she was hovering over you.

She leaned down, kissing you softly, making you moan into her mouth, your hands tugging at her hair. Making her way downwards, she pressed chaste kisses down your neck and collarbone until she could fondle with your breasts.

She slowly licked your sensitive skin latching onto one of your breasts, only to do the same to your other breast, then she decided to sensually pinch your nipples, and watch intently as you squirmed under her.

Her hands trailed down your stomach and played with the hem of your underwear. Once again, she was teasing you because she had most definitely seen how soaked you were.

You pulled your underwear slightly down, and she removed your hands.

"So impatient..." she said, and you stared daggers at her, making her chuckle.

She intertwined one of her hands with yours, softly stroking your skin with her thumb.

Soon enough she dragged your underwear down to your legs, giving her access.

Her slender fingers stroked your slit, gathering all your wetness.

"You weren't lying..." she said softly, chuckling afterwards.

"What?" you muttered out.

"You do need me to touch you..."

"Is this all you've thought about during the party?" she asked, digging for answers.

"Pretty much..."

"Every time I laid my eyes on you, I got flustered... I remember you hugging me, talking on the couch, and when you placed your hand at my back... and when your fingers brushed mine when you gave me the glass of wine..."

"That's all you remember?" she asked, with her eyebrows raised in surprise.

All you did was nod as a response.

"I'll give you something else to remember then..." she said, as her free hand found your core again. Her fingers slowly stimulated your clit, tender strokes making your legs twitch.

Your eyes met hers as her smile grew wider, she had you trembling under her in no time.

"Does this feel good?" she asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

You were so flustered you couldn't find any words to answer, so you nodded frantically.

She leaned down, nibbling at your earlobe while she kept stimulating you.

"Does it feel good? Answer me, or I'll stop..." she whispered into your ear.

"Yes... Brie, it does feel good... please don't stop."

"Then I won't stop... I promise," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

Soft moans escaped your lips as she added a bit more pressure. "Do you want me to go faster?" she asked, trying to figure out what you liked best.

"Yes," you muttered out, feeling her movements speed up almost instantly.

"Do you like to be penetrated?" she asked in a gentle tone, which made you feel like saying yes would be illegal, even though you knew it wasn't, at all.

You kept silent. "Don't be embarrassed, tell me... I want to make you feel good..." she hummed, as she kept focusing on your clit.

"Yes..." you admitted, looking at her, searching her face. "Do you want me to-" she tried to ask but you cut her off, "just fuck me... Brie, okay?" you said, cupping her face with your free hand, staring at her.

"No more questions, I just... I want you inside of me," you went on, and before you could do or say anything else, she slipped two fingers inside of you.

She chuckled as a shocked expression covered your face before you then hung your head backwards as she stretched you out for her. "Not so innocent, are you?" she asked in a playful manner.

All you did was moan at her words and how her fingers were pumping into you at an aggressive speed. She went as deep as she could, only stopping at her knuckles. Then she curled her fingers, hitting the spot inside of you that made you squirm.

"Right there..." you said in between moans, as her thumb kept stroking your clit for each thrust with her fingers.

"You look so pretty, taking my fingers so well..." she softly said, praising you.

"Think you can take one more finger?" she asked, and your gaze landed on her, fear hiding in your eyes.

"I don't know..." you answered her truthfully.

"I think you can do it..." she said, as she pulled out of you, only to thrust three fingers inside of you, slowly, she stretched you out.

She looked absolutely mesmerized, as her fingers disappeared inside of you. As your legs started shaking, she was quiet, like she contemplated something, and you didn't know what.

Then you felt her add another finger. Your mouth fell wide open, a throaty moan leaving your lips as she was halfway fisting you. It felt like you were going to pass out.

"Fuck!" you screamed out, squeezing her hand that she had intertwined with yours a long time ago.

"You're doing so well for me..." she said tenderly, leaning down to kiss you, but you just breathed against her lips, unable to do or say anything as she pushed you over the edge.

Your thighs clenched together, trapping her hand, as immense pleasure took over your body.

A guttural moan filled the room as you gripped her arm, nails digging into her flesh, slowing down her movements. "Brie... that was..." you said in between heavy breaths, carefully removing your hand as she gently stimulated your clit, riding out your orgasm.

It was almost too much, but her lips pressing kisses all over your chest brought you back to reality as you tried to catch your breath.

"It was good, right? Painful at first, then bearable, and pure bliss?" she asked, looking down at you.

"Mhm..." you agreed with her. Then your hand started stroking her outside of her underwear, like she had done with you at first.

"You don't have to... I get it if you're tired," she said and laughed softly.

"But I want to..."

She only nodded at your words and dragged her underwear down her legs.

"You're wet..." you said, as her wetness coated your fingers.

Chuckling at your observation, she quickly shut up as you stroked her clit.

She looked down at you while you focused on your hand.

"That can't be a comfortable position..." you said, sitting up, pushing her down.

"Spread your legs..." you told her, and soon enough she did.

"Wait, are you really gonna..." she tried to speak but moaned as you started to eat her out. She grabbed your hair and pulled you closer if that was even possible.

Your tongue swirled around her clit, making her shudder in anticipation. You lapped up all her wetness with your tongue, then went back to stimulating her.

She tasted sweet. It was expected.

Her thighs cradled your face, keeping you in place. It was safe to say that she had wanted this, judging by how fast she was starting to come undone.

She used her arms to support herself and looked down at you, her eyes meeting yours as you kept eating her out.

Then you started sucking on her clit, and she threw her head backwards, moaning as you pleasured her. She became a mess, her legs shaking, closing by instinct as she grinded forwards, meeting your tongue each time.

You moaned into her core, sending shiver down her spine.

Roughly tugging at your hair, not letting you pull away meant that she was getting closer. You kept stimulating her, until she came while shaking, a loud whimper leaving her mouth that sounded more like a strangled cry.

You licked up all her juices and swallowed as she looked down at you. "Fuck..." she panted, and you crawled over to her, resting your head on her chest, both feeling and hearing the rapid beating of her heart.

"I'm so glad that you got so drunk you had to stay..." she said, pulling the covers over you.

"Me too Brie... me too," you answered, kissing her breasts as she caught her breath.

"You should rest... you're going to be so hungover."

"And sore..." you said with a chuckle. All you heard was her soft laugh as you closed your eyes, drifting off into a peaceful slumber while her hand stroked your back.

#brie larson #smut #brielarsonsmut #wlw smut #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

6 notes · View notes

iukasylvie · 2 years ago

Note

@watertribe-enya I can empathize with your feelings on how underappreciated Scar is. I remember talking with a friend of mine on Discord about how literal war criminals like Mustang and Hawkeye are far more popular than him because I saw him lose to Hawkeye one-to-one in a popularity poll by a wide margin. To elaborate on my mother and older sister's opinion, both of them think Scar is an immature idiot. My mother hates his self-righteous and stubborn attitude in particular and thinks I'm a weirdo because she's well aware of my history of taking a fancy to characters like Count Bleck from Super Paper Mario.

Even in Sons of the Desert, Scar's stubbornness shows early on as he refuses an offer from his old master to reclaim priesthood despite accepting a new chuva (a piece of priestly clothing in this case).

You called Scar a "thirty something" in your first reply, but I thought he looked rather young in flashbacks about the war of extermination.

Speaking of Sons of the Desert, why did you think the so-called "Dead Guy Junior" naming syndrome was prevalent in the fic? I thought Scar's sons, Mattas and Turyan, were the only one named in this fashion.

Because of the nature of English - it can't tell characters apart by the way they speak like Japanese - I wish the fanfic had been a Japanese doujinshi adorned with a beautiful cover art and illustrations like the Touhou Project fic Noapte Strigoiului by Hatsu Takashiro with art by Loalo Honda. It's the first doujinshi I've ever bought and I immensely enjoyed the tragic story of Remilia and Flandre Scarlet (named Frandor in the fic) as young daughters of Vlad III in the author's prose.

I have no idea why I could not read Sons of the Desert thoroughly from the start to the end like I did with the Moribito series (in particular Guardian of the Spirit, Guardian of the Darkness, and Guardian of the God), The Beast Player, and Noapte Strigoiului. In fact, I skipped several chapters without Scar. I seized an opportunity to read the fic when I and my family were on a trip for two days to two tourist attractions soon after revisiting Fullmetal Alchemist to heal myself from disappointment at the finale of a certain animated show.

You also noted the fic's portrayal of Scar's brother. While I don't remember much about it or the fic in general, I appreciate his note from Chapter 26 because the ending sentence is one of the few sources of comedy alongside Zulema in the entire fic as far as I know:

I was able to find the right people to help carry out my plan. If not, well, I guess we're all screwed and it doesn't really matter who is reading this. I'm giving my kid brother the most crucial notes in case I don't make it, and I hope he can figure them out. If something does happen to me, I hope Andakar doesn't go and do something stupid. I hope he just gets the job done. He's smart but just a little hot-headed and close-minded. He needs to watch that. He also seriously needs to get laid, but he may not take my word for it. I just hope Ishvala keeps an eye on him if I can't.

The fic goes further and Mattas the Elder's comment takes on a new light in Chapter 38:

When he was a priest, Scar would sometimes be called upon to counsel young people against giving in to desires of the flesh. He found this painfully awkward as well as slightly hypocritical on his part, considering that he had lost his own heart to a young maiden who was beyond his reach. He would tell these despondent, hormone-ridden children to pray for guidance. He figured if they were busy praying, they wouldn't have time for anything else. Even now, when his young maiden was all grown up and well within his reach, he didn't feel much more qualified to counsel anyone on affairs of the heart. Heartache, however, he was well acquainted with, and he knew that Vesya was looking for the way that would hurt less.

What are your thoughts on Scar from Fullmetal Alchemist (manga/Brotherhood)?

I have many thoughts on Scar, because I love him to pieces. Best character in both anime and manga

One thing that bothers me even among people who are staunchly pro "Scar did nothing wrong (except the one time when he was completely out of it due to immense trauma)" and "Scar should have been allowed to kill more people" , is that they completely overlook that Scar just doesn't enjoy killing people. He does it because he feels that those who denied his people the right to live would never face justice for their actions otherwise. And also because he's really, really mad at them of course. Actually the part about justice might be moreso the fandom's view of it, and Scar's desire for vengeance is his primary motivation(when you look at what he said while fleeing through the desert). So Scar feels he's doing what is necessary, but he doesn't usually take enjoyment out of it. The closest he came to show glee during a fight was when Mustang showed up to intervene in chapter 7/ episode 5. And that was more grim satisfaction than anything. He doesn't even show any joy when mangling Envy and Kimblee, who kickstarted the genocide and brutally murdered his family. Every action is trenched in anger, and that anger is born from tremendous pain and loss.

So Scar doesn't want to kill (or at least doesn't want his whole life to be centered arround it). He wants to protect. He wants to do something for his community, his people. But for the longest time he felt that he had lost the chance to do so forever. His immense relief at finding out how many Ishvalans had actually survived was wonderful to behold.

Now you might say "But he's doing the right thing by killing those unrependant war criminals! He shouldn't feel bad about it!" And while that's correct (at least from my perspective) you have to look at Scar's other circumstances too. It's not an enjoyable life if you spent your days solely focused on the people who brutalized you. And Scar is doing it all alone, with no help or support system. With no breaks from the struggle for survival and recurring death battles. It's good that he stopped killing (outside of the necessary battles), not because Edward and the other good guys kept whining at him, but for his own sake. Because he finally feels he's actually doing something for the people he loves again.

Anyhow, how painful is it that Scar who was afraid about his brother creating or turning into a human weapon via alchemy, became exactly that?

"Your brother may discover a way to gain enough power to face those state alchemists, and perhaps even enough to destroy their army. With power that far surpasses theirs, to retalitate against them with alchemy! Make them pay for their sins with blood!'

I'm crying.

Another great thing about Scar is that you can guilt trip this thirty something, hardened warrior with "You'll make your brother sad." And he has no proper reply for that.

To end this with my personal headcanon, Scar outlives all the remaining State Alchemists sans Edward, and dies aged 103 surrounded by his 20 grandchildren.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Scar #fanfiction #Touhou Project #Remilia Scarlet #Flandre Scarlet

104 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 3 years ago

Text

Or, Would You Rather it be Me?

Genres: romance, soulmate au, university au, (no angst isn’t that crazy?!) Pairing: Reader & Vernon (Seventeen) Words: 7.9k (00:31) Warnings: language. (spoiler: the characters make out and shirts are taken off but it doesn’t get described past that) Notes: well well well well well… what’s this? a soulmate fic by casey thepixelelf with no angst in sight? it must be christmas! oh wait, it is (was)! happy (EXTREMELY LATE I’M SO SORRY) holidays mia @ memesolvernonchwe !! hope you like it :)

set in the Words that Bind Us universe

A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another... what could possibly go wrong?

one - would you rather?

“Okay.” You stare at the ceiling of Vernon’s room, casually trying to count the bumps of stucco. It’s not going well — you keep getting stuck around sixty-two. “Would you rather be weirdly attracted to Adam Sandler’s hands, or not be able to tell the difference between a box of cereal and a baby?”

He twists his head to give you a judging look, and you can’t help but smile at his goofy face. “How the hell do you think of these weirdo questions all the time?”

You shrug. “It’s my secret talent, I guess.”

“Some secret…” he mutters. You smack his arm. “Okay, okay. Uh… Adam Sandler.”

“Ew, why?”

“Look man, I can’t go around shaking newborn babies over bowls of milk every time I get hungry.”

Pursing your lips, you scratch your chin in feigned consideration and nod. “Sound logic.”

Vernon just hums and looks back up at the ceiling, both his arms folded over his stomach. You go back to counting stucco bumps. Sixty-three, sixty-four, sixty-five… Oh, shoot, did you already count that one? Two, three, four…

“My turn,” Vernon says, his voice low. “Would you rather…”

You turn to look at him again, stucco forgotten. He doesn’t move to meet your eyes, instead staring up with more intent than before. His voice sounds casual and tired, but you’ve known Vernon for a long time — something is different.

“Would you rather find your soulmate and fall head first without really knowing them… or fall in love with someone over time, even if they aren’t your soulmate?”

A few seconds pass without you or him saying or doing anything. You simply watch him as he looks up at the ceiling, refusing to look at you for some reason.

“Dunno,” you finally say, turning since he won’t meet your eyes anyways. “Whichever one is better.”

“That’s what I asked.”

“Hm?”

He raises an arm to drape over his eyes, voice practically a whisper when he asks, “Which one is better?”

“Guess I’d have to fall in love first to know.”

Vernon doesn’t react. You feel the soulmark on your lower back grow warm.

Seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine.

“Okay. Would you rather tongue-kiss a praying mantis or get spiked like a volleyball?”

“Praying mantises have tongues?!”

two - which one is better?

When you turned eighteen, you weren’t exactly expecting fireworks. You didn’t even need a particularly sweet or romantic set of words as your soulmark, but you at least expected something normal. Something like Vernon’s. His says Hi baby, which, sure, is a little weird for someone as shy as him upon first meeting anyone, but at least it isn’t ridiculous like yours.

Though it’s a bit of an effort to see your soulmark in the mirror, you twist yourself to anyways, sighing at the way it looks against your skin.

Tarantulo.

Like, what the hell is that supposed to mean? Who just says that the first time they meet someone? It's not even spelled right!

That one word is the reason why you’ve never told anyone what your soulmark is. You always say it’s too embarrassing when people ask, and everyone always thinks you mean that in the bedroom way. Honestly, you’d prefer something scandalous than freaking tarantulo. The only person who knows it’s not like that is Vernon. He doesn’t know what your mark really says, but he’s the kind of best friend that respects your privacy when you need it. When you were teenagers, he’d teased you at first, but once you made it clear that you seriously despised your mark, he stopped asking you about it. Neither of you have even discussed soulmates — at least to such a length — with each other in years until last night.

You wonder why he suddenly brought it up. Did he find his soulmate? If he did, though, he surely would have told you. Right? Something like that is definitely what you'd expect your best friend to tell you.

Rolling your clothes back down over your torso, you turn away from the mirror once your soulmark gets hidden underneath. To be honest, you haven’t paid much attention to it lately. Despite the amount you toiled over it as a teenager, you’ve sort of mellowed out since hitting university. You still hate the mark in a way, but you’d channelled that hate into apathy over the years. Vernon’s question from last night fanned the fire you used to have, though, and it keeps repeating in your head. You can’t help but wonder to yourself:

Which one is better?

You really don’t know. You can’t even remember meeting anyone who’s found love outside of their soulmate — that kind of stuff only happens in movies, doesn’t it? A love that you build on your own, with no help from the universe…? When you were a kid, that was the dream. Now, though, it just sounds so out there.

If you asked Vernon the same question he asked you, what would his answer be?

“You hungry?”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you rub your hand over your heart when you see Vernon standing in the bathroom doorway. He’s had your spare apartment key for over a year, (you trust him with it more than yourself,) and it really shouldn’t surprise you anymore when he shows up out of nowhere. Holding up a brown paper bag that’s stamped with your favourite restaurant’s logo, he lowers his headphones to rest around his neck and says, “I bought lunch.”

“I owe you my life.”

“Dramatic, but true.”

three - you wanna..?

“Hey Vernon?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up from his laptop, focused on his essay that he chose to leave to the very last minute -- due at midnight. Right now, he’s looking over the notes and revisions he’d begged you for less than two hours ago.

“You wanna fall in love with me?”

Vernon chokes on air, or his own saliva, or nothing. Whatever it is, he hacks like a cat with a fur ball, hunched over his laptop on your kitchen table, covering his mouth with the crook of his elbow. Startled, you rush around the table to put a hand on his back and deliver a strong, panicked back blow. Still hiding his face in one of his arms, Vernon waves you off with his free hand and a wheezy, “Stop! Stop, jeez.”

You put both your hands in the air and back off a step, keeping an eye on him just in case.

Once he’s done coughing, Vernon furrows his brows and looks up at you with a frown. “What did you say? I think I just hallucinated.”

“Oh.” Satisfied that his throat is no longer clogged like a storm drain in New York city, you casually put both your hands in the front pocket of your thick hoodie. “I asked if you wanna fall in love with me.”

Vernon doesn’t move. You’re not even sure if he breathes for a good thirty seconds. About to snap your fingers in his face to see if he’s frozen in time, you stop yourself when he blinks, then turns back to his laptop with a completely blank expression.

“No, that can’t be right,” he mutters as he types. “I'm sleep-deprived.”

Annoyed at him totally ignoring your inquiry, you round the table again to sit across from him and plop into your chair with a huff. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hm? What was it again?”

You sigh, taking care to enunciate each syllable as clearly as possible.

“Do you want to fall in love with me?”

Vernon snaps his laptop shut. “What?!”

His sudden volume startles you, but not enough to deter you from your idea. You’ve thought a lot about this -- well, a lot in the last twenty-four hours. You really only came up with it yesterday.

“Think about it.” You scoot your chair closer to the table, leaning your elbows on the surface and putting both your hands out, palms up. “You wanted to know which one was better, right?” You bring one hand up. “Falling in love with someone over time--” Your other hand follows. “--or falling quickly for your soulmate.”

Vernon just looks at you in confusion. “...So?”

“So, once we meet our soulmates, we’re probably never going to find out which one is better, because we’ll just stay with them.” Putting down your hands, you cross them in front of you, still on the table. “Personally, I want to find out what it’s like to fall in love before I lose my chance.”

“And I come into this equation where?”

You shrug. “I trust you. You’re my best friend; I bet I could easily fall in love with you.”

“That’s not how love works.” Vernon’s words make your head tilt slightly, and bring a small frown to your lips. It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says them -- like he really believes that.

“What?”

Sighing, Vernon leans back in his chair as he shakes his head. “You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. And when.”

“Why not?” you ask.

“You just don’t.” At that, he lowers his head, looking at something on your floor that you doubt is as interesting as the conversation he’s brought to a halt. You almost don’t hear it, but you swear he mutters under his breath, “Trust me.”

A silence befalls the both of you, and you sigh, leaning back in your own chair and watching your fingers rhythmically tap against the wooden surface of the table. Maybe seconds pass, maybe minutes.

“Let me put it this way.” Your words feel stronger with no background noise behind them. “Would you rather try -- just try -- falling in love with me, or meet your soulmate tomorrow?”

Vernon meets your gaze, and though you don’t necessarily know what it is or why it changes, you see it in his eyes.

You smile.

four - you said what?

Seungkwan gawks at Vernon in thinly-veiled (if you can even call it that) disgust, the straw of his iced coffee pulling slowly away from his lips. “You didn’t. Vernon, look at me and tell me you didn’t.”

Groaning, Vernon hunches over the metal cafeteria table and hides his face in his arms, his fingers running haphazardly through his hair. His beanie slips off his head as a result, but he can’t be bothered to put it back on. He grips and tugs at the roots of his hair with another exasperated groan. “I can’t.”

“Oh my god. You--” Seungkwan shakes his head and puts his coffee on the table with a pronounced clunk. “--are an idiot.”

“I know, dude. You don’t need to rub it in.”

five - what do people do on first dates?

“This was a bad idea,” Vernon says for maybe the third time since you got to the restaurant.

You have to admit, it’s a bit fancier than the usual places you go together, but come on. For years, you guys have known each other, been best friends, and gone out to eat together. What makes tonight any different?

(Aside from the fact that you’re trying to fall in love with each other now.)

“Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so awkward if you’d actually look at me, man.”

Vernon at least has the decency to look embarrassed when he finally meets your eyes. “Sorry.”

Even though his posture is stiff and awkward, his leg bouncing up and down like a fourteen-year-old stuck in a math lecture, Vernon looks good. Handsome, which you told him when you picked him up from his place -- not that he reacted. Or, at least, you didn’t see any reaction since he immediately started walking in front of you after you said it. You could probably count on two hands the amount of times you’ve seen him in a dress shirt. You didn’t even know he owned the navy slacks he has on now. Not to be upstaged, you’ve also donned the fancier percentage of your closet, even if that’s not saying much. You do look nice, though.

Vernon hasn’t commented on it.

“You’re right.” You take the silk kerchief off your lap and drop it down on the table next to your overly-expensive meal. “This was a bad idea.”

Not wanting to create a ruckus, you look around silently for the waitstaff that helped you throughout your “date”. Vernon just watches as you flag them down and ask for the bill, only speaking up when they nod and go to get it for you.

“Okay, wait, no-- we don’t have to leave.”

You let out a tiny snort at his immediate backtracking. “Dude, pick a struggle.”

The waitstaff brings you your bill, and because you’re not a monster, you tip generously. You’re not gonna be the type of asshole that walks out and tips like garbage. It’s a definite K.O to your bank account, but you blame that on your poor planning rather than the nice girl who served you this evening. Come on, a restaurant like this for you and Vernon? You really should’ve thought this through.

“No, seriously,” Vernon says hurriedly as you stand up to leave. He follows you out, no intention to stop you physically even though his words don’t seem to be convincing you at all. “I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess this up--”

“Vernon, chill.” You roll your eyes at him, pushing the door open before walking out into the cool night air. Thankfully, it isn’t too cold out, the seasons just recently moving into spring from winter. “I’m not gonna let one bad dinner date stop me from falling in love with you.”

Maybe it’s the way you say it so casually -- because this has happened a few times now -- but Vernon freezes in place and looks at you in surprise.

You hold out your hand for him to take. “That just wasn’t our scene.”

Though hesitant and slow, Vernon meets your hand with his. It’s not the first time you’ve held hands since you met all those years ago in preschool, but his hand feels heavier now in yours after years of going without. Nevertheless, you lock your fingers with his just like you’ve seen soulmates do and start walking to your car with him at your side.

six - my left or your left?

“Left left left!” you scream, cut through with raucous laughter as Princess Daisy veers into a huge donut. “I said left dummy!”

“Oh, shit.” Vernon switches the direction of his controller, but it’s too late. He’s gone from an impressive ninth place to twelfth -- impressive because this entire round, he’s been playing Mario Kart with his eyes closed and you as his navigator.

You don’t let the switch in ranks deter you, though, eagerly directing him back on track. Daisy hits a question block, and your eyes widen when you see what item he gets. “Left trigger! Bullet Bill!”

Vernon’s neighbours might think you’re crazy, but this isn’t the first time you’ve yelled over Mario Kart at his place, so they’re probably used to it by now. For a second, you wonder if Vernon’s ever gotten noise complaints, but then his character speeds over the finish line (with no guidance from his controller whatsoever) before Wario can, and you jump up in victory.

“Fuck yeah, not last!”

Opening his eyes, Vernon drops the controller on the couch and stands up with you. He high-fives you with both hands, slipping his fingers through yours as you both jump up and down, chanting, “Not last! Not last!”

The happy cheers dissolve after a few seconds, though, when you find your reflection in his eyes. You look so happy.

Vernon seems to sense this change in you, because his smile drops slowly, his eyes searching your own for an answer you’re not even sure you have.

“Are we in love yet?” you dare to whisper.

“If you have to ask...”

You frown, but once you realize what he means, you nod. He’s probably right.

“Alright.” As quickly as you frowned, you paint a smile over your lips and unlink your fingers from his, moving back to the couch to grab the controller. “My turn.”

You shut your eyes and trust Vernon with your (digital) life.

seven - so it’s got a name?

Vernon: the holding hands to falling in love pipeline Vernon: that’s what they’re calling it

Seungkwan: u r a goner !

Vernon: shut up

Seungkwan: if i have to shut up in person i am gonna b sassy over text Seungkwan: deal w it

Vernon: -_-

Seungkwan: ur the one who agreed to their idea Seungkwan: u love holding their hand admit it

Vernon: I’m all sweaty

Seungkwan: ew i do not need details bye

“You know, I think Seungkwan ran away from me yesterday.”

Vernon clicks off his phone and shoves it in his back pocket as soon as he sees you looking at his texts with Seungkwan. The hand still holding yours grips and regrips. He clears his throat. “Uh... why?”

His reaction is nothing if not suspicious, but you’re not the prying type. Whatever he talks about with his friend isn’t any of your business.

“Dunno.” You shrug, thinking back to that time you saw Seungkwan between classes with a small laugh. “He kinda just clocked me and walked away. You know that face he does when he gets second-hand embarrassment? With like the wide eyes and raised eyebrows and awkward smile?”

Vernon nods and smiles, his panic from only a minute ago gone. “Okay, yeah. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“It was like that. Did I have something on my face yesterday or something?”

Clearing his throat again, Vernon reaches across you to press the pedestrian crossing button, instead of letting go of you with the hand that’s closer. You could’ve pressed the button, but sure.

“Nah,” he says. “Seungkwan is just weird sometimes.”

eight - is it supposed to feel different?

“Would you rather write apology letters to everyone you’ve ever hated, or get hate mail from everyone who’s ever hated you?”

It’s absentmindedly that you ask this one, watching yourself brush your teeth in Vernon’s bathroom mirror. He’s hosting the sleepover tonight, but as he pointed out earlier, you probably shouldn’t call it that anymore. Couples don’t have “sleepovers,” do they? They just... stay over for the night. But it sounds so much less fun when you say it that way.

“Going deep tonight?” he asks through the minty white foam in his mouth.

You shake your head. “It just popped up in my mind.”

“Huh. I guess...” Vernon spits out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth, rinses off his toothbrush, and wipes the corners of his mouth with his thumb. “I’d do the apology letters. I don’t really have anyone I’ve ever hated.”

Your eyes widen. “No one?”

Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Vernon gives you a shy smile. “Nope. Do you?”

“Well... I guess I don’t have that many, but...”

“Miss Fischer?”

“Dude, fuck Miss Fischer!” You rinse off your toothbrush and throw it in the holder next to the sink with more gusto than necessary. The memory of that one substitute teacher in sixth grade always manages to piss you off. “I still can’t believe she spoke to you like that!”

Vernon chuckles. “How come you remember it so much better than I do?”

“She literally said to your face that you’d never be an astronaut!”

“Well.” Vernon holds out his arms and looks down at himself, in his sweatshirt and pants, which he wears as pyjamas. “I’m not exactly in space right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, but we were eleven. Did she really think what we needed was a reality check?” Stepping back from the counter, you exit the bathroom and jump onto Vernon’s bed, arms out on either side. You frown up at the ceiling. “Yeah, no, I’d rather get hate mail from a hundred people than apologize to that meanie.”

Vernon snorts at your word choice and crawls over you to get to his side of the bed. He has to push you out of the way to make room for him, at which you groan playfully, then roll into your usual spot with a fit of laughter filling the otherwise quiet room.

“You wouldn’t get any mail,” he says after the giggles die down.

“Huh?”

He only turns his head on his pillow, but he looks at you, and his smile makes you smile too. “You’re not hate-able.”

Your smile widens. You hit him with your pillow for that overwhelming cheesiness, but you both know you don’t mind it at all. The pillow is back under your head in no time, and when the mix of groaning and laughter fades away, all that’s left is the way you stare up at the ceiling, counting the stucco like you always do to fall asleep. You almost do, but a thought crosses your mind.

“Is it supposed to feel different?”

“Hm?”

Moments from deep slumber, Vernon answers with nothing but a quiet hum.

“I mean, we’re doing all this stuff to fall in love, right? Going on dates, holding hands, sleeping in the same bed...” You list the stuff you’ve done to silence, Vernon staying quiet -- or falling asleep, you’re not sure. His eyes are closed, so you just continue. “But it kind of just feels like we’re doing the exact same stuff we’ve always done. Does having the intention of falling in love change things as much as I thought it would? Or... was I naïve to think that?”

For a few seconds, you think you’re only talking to the night, the darkness of the bedroom, but then Vernon shifts. He scoots himself closer to you, and you take in a breath when he lays an arm over you.

“If you feel like we’re doing the exact same stuff...” he murmurs. His arm tightens around you and pulls you closer. “...we can change things up a little.”

You can’t tell if the fast heartbeat in your ears is yours or Vernon’s.

nine - “do you wanna do it before or after?”

Stuck in the world of another essay he left to the last minute, Vernon slips off his headphones and looks at you across the table. “Huh? Do what? Is this a would you rather question?”

“I mean...” You toy with the sleeves of your hoodie, pointedly keeping your eyes on that instead of on Vernon. “Sort of.”

“So what’s the question then?”

You mutter it under your breath, but he can’t hear you, so he leans forward with his brows furrowed, and you sigh. “Do you wanna kiss before or after falling in love?”

That makes him freeze, and even though Vernon isn’t the type to blush, you swear you feel it on him. His eyes are wide as they stay, unfocused, on his laptop screen.

“Um...”

“You don’t have to answer,” you quickly backtrack, hiding your face behind your hands. “It was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

When you peek through your fingers, Vernon’s eyes are on you and only you. Somehow, you feel, in this moment, like he’s only ever looked at you. That’s impossible, you know, but for some reason you can’t help getting caught in those eyes, only seeing him too.

“It’s not stupid,” he repeats. “It’s just... do you... want to kiss me?”

Shy and slow, still hidden behind your spread fingers, you nod.

“You shouldn’t kiss me just because you feel like you have to.”

“That’s not it.” You frown, lowering your hands, but when Vernon’s words sink in, you have to wonder...

Do you want Vernon to kiss you? Or do you want Vernon to kiss you so you’ll fall in love with him?

But that’s your problem, isn’t it? You’ve been trying to fall in love with him for a few weeks now; going out, staying over, holding hands -- but nothing much has changed, except maybe Vernon initiating more skinship than he used to. You’ve always loved him, really, in that special way you have with Vernon as your best friend. No one has ever told you what it means to love someone romantically because when you meet your soulmate, you’re just supposed to... know.

You stand abruptly. The sound of your chair skidding back on the floor fills the silent room. Vernon’s eyes follow you as you round the table and come to stand right next to his chair. You put one hand on the table and one on his shoulder, your thumb grazing across the skin of his neck. He takes in a breath and doesn’t let it go.

Your voice comes out as a murmur, only heard by you and Vernon and the universe.

“Can I kiss you?”

Vernon’s adam’s apple bobs up and down, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a millisecond before meeting your eyes once again.

He nods.

You lean closer, hovering directly above his face. Your lips are mere centimetres from him, and you feel yourself getting lost in the humming serenity of the room, but you pause right before your lips touch. Vernon’s eyelids flutter, his eyes still half open as you whisper against his lips, unintentionally teasing him with the slightest taste of you.

“I’ve never kissed someone before,” you admit.

“Me neither.”

And yet, nothing feels wrong or out of place when you touch your lips to his. You feel his exhaled tension fan under your nose. Your eyes fall closed naturally, and your fingers on the back of his neck caress the short, wispy hairs there as you kiss him slowly. It’s just a press, just a soft touch, but warmth spreads from each point of contact, and the corners of your lips twitch up. Vernon’s hand shifts up to land on the one you have on the table, and his warm, clammy fingers catch on the soft skin on the back of your hand when you tilt your head to the side to kiss him deeper, and his hand tenses. His thumb slips under and presses into your palm. His lips move without rush, calm and slow, but even if your mind is filling with golden, sparkling stardust and buzzing with something you can’t name, you don’t mind one bit. It feels like his lips are memorizing yours. Like they’re taking pictures of this moment.

The widening smile on your lips forces you to pause, and it gives you a second to breathe when you break apart to smile down at Vernon.

His eyes fly open when you lift yourself off him, but he doesn’t match your smile, and for a second, fear seeps into that stardust.

It doesn’t last long. Vernon surges up, standing and cupping both your cheeks in his hands, as if he can’t possibly get close enough. His lips smoosh into yours without much decorum, but you giggle into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his middle and clutching onto the back of his jean jacket. He searches your lips for answers to questions unasked, and you let him happily.

“After,” he speaks breathlessly against your lips, still holding you close.

“Hm?”

“Your question.” He parts from you now, leaning back while he keeps your face held gingerly between his large hands. “My answer is after.”

Having just had the best first kiss you could have ever dreamed of, you don’t even remember your question. So you just kiss him again, cheeks starting to hurt from how much you’ve smiled tonight, and you don’t realize what Vernon just meant to tell you.

Do you want to kiss before or after falling in love?

After.

ten - how much?

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me your favourite flower,” Vernon’s voice says through your phone’s speaker as you walk along the rows of the marketplace, eyeing the produce for your bi-weekly grocery shopping.

“That’s ‘cause I don’t have one.” You place some fresh tomatoes in a brown paper bag and set it on the hanging scale attached to Mel’s stall. He always has the best tomatoes, and you don’t mind paying a couple extra cents for them than you’d have to pay for at a regular grocery store. “Flowers are all so pretty; how am I supposed to pick a favourite?”

“Fair point...” Vernon pauses for a second, giving you time to squeeze your phone awkwardly between your ear and your shoulder so you can pull out your wallet to pay Mel for the tomatoes. “What about roses?”

“Roses are nice. I like the yellow ones.” You share a smile with Mel as he hands you your bag of tomatoes and wave him a goodbye before you move on. “Oh, and those ones that are white but with, like, pieces of red? Red ones are pretty too! You know, they make--”

“Okay, what about tulips?”

“Ooh, remember that house in my old neighbourhood that always had tulips every spring? They were so pretty, especially the orange ones. Did you know tulips bloom? Most people think they always stay as bulbs.”

“Carnations?”

“My mom got me those for my graduation -- those ones where just the edges of the petals are white but they’re more magenta towards the middle,” you explain as you check through your haul, making sure you got everything you came to the market for. “Did you know hybridization of a lot of flowers have caused them to lose their natural scents in lieu of longer lifespans and better appearances?”

Vernon chuckles. “What’s with the sudden flower facts?”

“Dunno.” You shrug even though you know he can’t see you. “Guess I just have a lot on standby in my brain. What’s with the sudden flower questions?”

“Uhhhh...”

“And while I’m on the whole flower facts thing, you know roses, tulips, and carnations are all really common symbols of romantic love, right?”

A pause.

“Gotta go, bye.”

A beep rings low in your ear, and you bring your phone down in front of you with a disbelieving smile. Your phone’s home screen stares back at you. “Bye to you too, weirdo,” you whisper to yourself with a quiet laugh, slipping your phone in your coat pocket.

Just as you’re heading out of the market, you pass by the same flower stall that’s always been there. You’d never really stopped in front of it before, but now, your feet pause on their own, and you smile.

“How much for these?”

A few hours later, when Vernon knocks on your door despite having a key of his own, you open it with a wide smile and hold out the flowers you bought. It’s far from a full bouquet, consisting of one yellow rose, one orange tulip, and one magenta-to-white petalled carnation, but hey, flowers are expensive, damn it. Vernon’s eyes widen as they take in the flowers you’ve held in front of his face.

“Oh...” He looks up at you, a bit dumbstruck, and as he brings his right arm around his body, you realize he’d been holding it behind his back. “I, um...” From behind him, he procures a fist-sized terracotta pot with an adorable succulent plant inside it. “I didn’t get you flowers.”

You gasp despite the worry in his tone, slightly holding the flowers to the side so you can get a closer look at the pot in his hand. “Oh my gosh, is that that bear’s paw succulent? It’s so cute!”

“Yeah,” Vernon says, a shy smile spreading across his face at your positive reaction. His free hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I went to the store for flowers, but then I saw this... I dunno. I thought you might like it more.”

“Vernon! Now I feel lame for getting you just a bouquet!” You teasingly stomp your foot and show off an exaggerated pout, which causes him to laugh in your doorway.

“Hey, don’t say that about my gift!” He grabs the flowers from you, trading them for the succulent, and holds them as close to his chest as he can without crushing them. He rubs one finger against the bulb of the tulip. “Don’t worry guys, they didn’t mean it.” Another laugh escapes him at his own joke, which you mirror, until he shoots a smirk at you. “All common symbols of romantic love, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you shove his shoulder with as little force as possible. “Shut up and come inside, dork.”

eleven - finally?

“I can’t believe you spent three whole months in another country and didn’t even get me one cheesy souvenir,” you joke at Mingyu from across the cafeteria table.

He giggles, shaking his head. “What? You wanted some “I heart New York” socks?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Even better if it’s a souvenir from where you actually went!”

“You can find “I heart New York” paraphernalia anywhere,” Seungkwan adds from beside you, both of his elbows resting on the table.

You point at him. “That’s true. I wonder why...”

“Never mind all that,” Mingyu waves away with another laugh. He leans forward over the table with a mischievous smirk. “I heard that while I was gone, you and Vernon...”

Instead of responding with words, you simply shrug your shoulders with a smug smile on your lips. You see, out of the corner of your vision, Seungkwan rolls his eyes and goes to sip at his iced coffee.

“Wow.” Mingyu leans back in his seat. “I can’t believe Vernon finally picked up the courage to tell you how he felt.”

Seungkwan chokes on his drink.

“I mean, we were on him about it for years--”

Coughing, Seungkwan makes a slicing motion at his neck, which you completely miss as you narrow your eyes at Mingyu.

“What do you mean?”

“So how’d he do it?” Mingyu prods instead of answering your question. “Did he get on one knee? Buy you a dozen roses? Ooh, organize a dancing flash mob?”

Seungkwan coughs even louder, hearty in the back of his throat. One of the coughs even sounds a lot like Mingyu’s name, but he goes largely ignored by the both of you.

“How’d he do what?” you ask.

“Finally ask you out.”

Seungkwan fully slams his head down on the table with a groan. “I am surrounded by idiots,” he mumbles, unheard by the rest of the company.

“Finally?” you echo, confused. “I asked him. It took some convincing, too. We’re trying to see if it’s better to fall in love over time than all at once with a soulmate.”

Mingyu frowns in confusion, pulling his head back a little. “What? But he’s already in lo--mmph.”

Suddenly on the other side of the table, Seungkwan slaps a hand over Mingyu’s blabbering mouth and looks down at him in disappointment. “I can’t believe we all call you the smart one.” He shakes his head as Mingyu’s eyes widen, then moves to drag Mingyu up and off his chair. He turns to you. “Sorry, we gotta go. Mingyu is late to his common fucking sense class.”

You watch in silence as Seungkwan drags a complaining Mingyu out of the cafeteria.

twelve - is it true?

Before Vernon can even open his door all the way, you blurt out,

“Were you already in love with me before this all started?”

You’re not stupid. Oblivious, sometimes, as made evident by the man in front of you right now, but you know Mingyu doesn’t just say shit like that for no reason. In a long text conversation/grilling session with him after the whole cafeteria incident, where he apologized almost too many times, he explained that he thought Vernon finally told you how he felt because, get this: Vernon’s been in love with you for as long as Mingyu has known him. According to Mingyu, anyhow.

And the more you thought about it, the more it made sense.

Before, you’d always thought that you’d find out what love is when you met your soulmate -- that you’d feel it for the first time and just... just know.

But maybe you’ve always felt love. Maybe you just never knew what it was called.

It would explain why going from being best friends with Vernon to “falling in love” with him didn’t feel too ultimately different. Why it was so easy.

Vernon regards you with wide eyes -- your heaving chest from the run here, the serious look on your face, the way the determination in your eyes keeps him from daring to look away.

And he just nods.

Your lips are on his before either of you know what’s happening.

The touch burns with a feeling you finally have names for. Passion. Devotion. Love.

You mould yourself to him, your hands on his cheeks as his instinctively find home at your sides, on your back as he wraps his arms around you. He kisses you back after only a second, his body relaxing into the motions as soon as he realizes there is nothing wrong with the love he feels and has felt for so long. He leans in closer, but you’re already as close as two people can be, so you stumble slightly out into the hallway of his apartment building. A laugh tumbles out of your lips and onto his, and you’re reminded of why it all makes sense. It’s so easy with Vernon. To kiss and laugh and be in love. He pulls you into his apartment with ease, his lips never leaving yours and yet failing to silence your giggles, which only prompts him to laugh along with you as he shuts the door on the outside world.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask against him.

One of his hands travels up your body, to the back of your neck. “I was scared,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer, still pressing feverish kisses on your lips.

“Of what?”

At that, his kisses pause. He pulls back, and his hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “That you were waiting for someone.”

All the soulmate talk you shared with Vernon that feels so long ago is a blur in your mind, but none of it matters, not with him in front of you right here and now. You shake your head, slowly, and you whisper, “Don’t be scared.”

He blinds you with a dazzling smile, one so full of love and happiness that you can’t believe you never saw it before. Maybe you are stupid. For him, at least.

He kisses you on the lips, deep and true, and he only pulls back to press a hundred little pecks all over your face and say, “I’m not anymore.”

“Vernonnnn,” you whine, but he shuts you up by kissing you again, and you find that you don’t mind even a little bit. His tongue peeks out and timidly touches your lips, and you don’t mind that either.

You don’t mind the way the kisses get messy, or the way you both laugh at the combined awkwardness and sexiness of everything that’s happening. You don’t mind when Vernon almost trips over his own two feet as you traverse your way into his bedroom, or the fact that he almost crushes you when you fall back on his bed.

You just laugh and kiss and love through it all, and you run your fingers through Vernon’s hair as he kisses you even deeper somehow. His body lies on top of you, part of his weight held up by his forearm next to your shoulder while the other hand travels down your arm to find your hand and interlock his fingers with yours, bringing your joined hands up next to your head. All of it is awkward, unpractised, but beautiful. You’ve both kissed more than a few times before now, but it’s never gone this far. Vernon sighs out, and you feel it through your whole body. He moves his kisses to the corner of your lips, then down your chin, then over to your neck. You suck in a sharp breath as his lips map out your skin as if he’s trying to memorize you.

Vernon tears himself away from you only so he can tug off his shirt, and you take a second to admire his upper body, but after a moment you realize his hands are fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You look up and meet his eyes, and you see the silent question in them. With a shy smile, you nod.

As soon as your shirt is off, Vernon kisses you again, his fingers running, grazing over your bare skin like it’s treasure.

A loud hiss sounds off from somewhere, and Vernon jolts up, wide, panicked eyes meeting yours.

“...Vernon?”

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts. Clambering off of you, Vernon jumps off the bed and runs out of his room, yelling, “I was boiling ramen!”

You blink, completely frozen for a second, and then a bark of laughter bubbles in your chest and escapes. Slapping your hand on the bed, you roll around in laughter as you hear Vernon’s rushed “oh my god oh my god oh my god” from the kitchen. Unable to control yourself, you crawl up the bed and grab one of his pillows, smothering your face in it to stifle your laughter, even though your body still shakes with it. You lie there on your stomach, and at least three minutes or so pass before the situation is taken care of. Vernon walks back into his bedroom to find you lying on his bed, your neck twisted on the pillow so you’re no longer suffocating yourself, but facing him with a dopey smile.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I just had the hottest makeout of my life and almost burned the entire building down, and you’re falling asleep?”

“Your pillows are comfy.”

“I know.” With a playful roll of his eyes, Vernon returns to his bed and gets a knee on it. “I keep telling you to get memory foa--”

He freezes, his eyes on your back. Your naked back. That he’s never seen before.

Your naked back with the soulmark he’s never seen before.

Ugh.

Mood sufficiently dampened, you make a face at the way Vernon just stares at your mark. Tarantulo.

“I get it,” you mumble, disheartened. “It looks stupid--”

Vernon kisses you.

It’s not deep, or soft, not much of anything because he’s smiling so wide that he can barely purse his lips to kiss you, and you look at him in confusion because this angle can’t be comfortable. He kisses you again, and he slides an arm under you to twist your body so that you’re chest to chest. He pulls you close, the other arm wrapping around you too, and he kisses you again. You kiss him back, of course, can’t help yourself, but when you pull back, you blink a couple times to clear your head.

“What... is happening right now?”

“’Tarantulo’,” he repeats, his smile so wide you think he might break something. “Who would’ve thought?”

You furrow your brows. “I am... so confused.”

“Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?”

Vernon presses another kiss to your lips, and he only pulls back a millimetre to whisper, “How we met.”

twelve point five - what do we say?

It was the first day of preschool, and you’d never seen so many people your size in one place before. You clutched onto your dad’s pant leg like a life preserver in the middle of a big, big ocean, hiding behind him whenever someone so much as made eye contact. Even though you were wearing your favourite shirt, -- the Spirited Away one -- your mom had made you leave your favourite plushie at home, and without that to hold onto, you couldn’t bring yourself to repeat the greeting you’d practised that morning and the night before to any of the other children you saw running around.

Without warning, your dad walked up to someone he seemed to recognize, and you found yourself facing a woman’s bottom half and the small boy next to her. He was holding onto her hand similar to the way you clutched to your dad. His wide eyes stared at you, but he didn’t say anything, and you weren’t inclined to, either.

“Go on,” your dad said, and when you looked up at him, you realized he was talking to you. He nodded his chin towards the boy, and when you moved to hide behind his leg again, he crouched down and gently put a hand on your back, getting you to face the boy. “Say hi, baby.”

“Hi baby.”

You added a tiny wave, not hearing the quiet half-chuckle that your dad let out.

The boy’s mother nudged at him to greet you back, and he stared at you for another few seconds, then pointed at your middle. You looked down, seeing only your favourite shirt with the soot sprites and star candies on it. Just as you looked back up at him, he opened his mouth.

“Tarantulo.”

thirteen - i’d rather...

“Oh my god,” you groan, hiding your face behind your hands. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Vernon laughs out loud at that, only pulling you closer. “Are you kidding? Literally all of my dreams just came true. This is the best day in the history of ever.”

“I can’t believe I completely forgot!” you lament. Dropping your hands, you frown at Vernon and his shit-eating grin. “If I remembered, we could’ve figured all this out ages ago.”

“Yeah, but then we’d never get to fall in love like we did.” His hand comes up to your face, caressing your cheek as his lips soften into a smile oh so sweet.

“I guess...” Accepting the past as passed, you wrap your arms around him and relax your head against his dumb memory foam pillows. You let the warmth of the blanket and Vernon’s natural body heat wash over you, and soon, the annoyance you feel with your past self for forgetting such a thing fades. “Speaking of... Did you ever find your answer?”

“Hm?” Vernon seems to have gotten lost in simply looking at you.

“...Would you rather find your soulmate and fall head first without really knowing them, or fall in love with someone over time, even if you don’t think they’re your soulmate?”

Vernon smiles, and he leans into you, placing a simple, slow kiss upon your lips.

“If it’s you, I’ll fall in love in every possible way.”

2K notes · View notes

yanban-san · 2 years ago

Note

I appreciate all the baked goods you send my way. But I’ve had my own brain worm with all the nsfw asks about the demon/eldritch au like… poor Elesa running damage control every time those guys completely miss social cues. Like she’s been over this- she made a PowerPoint for this!!!

Darling: “Hey Elesa what kind of phone do you have?”

Elesa: “The iPorygonX 13 why?”

Darling: “Well my phone has been acting weird for the past couple weeks.”

Elesa, immediately smelling Tauros shit: “Oh yeah?”

Darling: “Yeah! Ever since I started at the Gear Station I’ve been having weird glitches!”

Elesa, immediately taking an aspirin for the headache she knows is coming: “Wow, that’s so weird.”

Darling: “Right? Sometimes like my messages disappear, and what’s really, really weird is that I can’t download any of the new dating games off the App Store!”

Elesa, praying to Arceus for patience: “Huh, that’s-thats so weird.”

Darling: “And the worst part- and this might be a TMI and please stop me if you’re uncomfortable-“

Elesa, hoping she’s wrong and doesn’t know where this is going: “Y-Yeah??”

Darling: “Lately like- and you have to promise not to tell anybody- none of my… *whispers* none of my porn videos are loading.”

Elesa, regretting begging for her memories not to be erased. “O-oh that’s… that sucks… like a lot.”

Darling: “I am so sorry if that was over sharing-“

Elesa: “N-no it’s fine…”

Darling: “Like I’m pretty sure it’s not the hosting website, but like either they don’t load at all or they load but the people in it don’t look right. Like somebody re-uploaded the video with bad compression to make all the dudes have grey hair.”

Elesa, placing her head in her hands: “Yeah that’s so bizarre, maybe- maybe getting a new phone would help.”

Darling: “Yeah, I think that’s the only option I have left, if it doesn’t work… I don’t think I can do anything else.”

Elesa knows what other options you have, the two of them probably keenly aware that you would be desperate enough to take them up on their offer.

Elesa misses when she was just a model/gym leader and not an underpaid relationship tutor to a bunch of weird extra-dimensional weirdos.

Enjoy the sweets, I will enjoy your excellent dialogue you keep coming up with for poor tired Elesa and poor unaware of much of anything Darling, it's perfect anon <3

---

Elesa: "Man it sure is nice not having my memories erased and instead knowing that the Subway Bosses are freaks from Eeby Deeby" :)

Darling: "Hey Elesa I can't download any dating sim games :( It just always fails or complains I don't have the space-"

Elesa, getting an aspirin ready: "Oh haha that is weird-"

Darling is embarrassed as she asks Elesa "Also... Is it possible for... ahem, "certain websites" to just... break for one person and one person only"

Elesa:

Darling: "Because like- I've even tried to use my friend's computer... to uh, OH- to watch playthroughs of some of these dating sims I like and they always crash or are limited to 144p until my friend tries to watch them later..."

Elesa, knowing full well Darling is talking about porn sites actually because she has absolutely caught the two idiot demons reading human anatomy books and probably found their copy of the Kama Sutra in their office one unfortunate day:

Elesa, downing the entire bottle of aspirin: I'm sorry I need to go fight some literal demons and make some powerpoint presentations

Darling: What-

Elesa, later, staring into the camera like she's in the office: "I never thought I'd find myself sitting in my office writing a powerpoint on the fact it's considered a dick move in human culture to turn someone's pornography into images of yourself-"

Elesa, head in hands and wondering if there's an even higher dose aspirin at the drug store: "-And yet, Almighty Sinnoh continues to work in mysterious ways."

And underpaid?

The twins are not paying her any physical money at all! :)

...but as they learn more about being "friends"- They start to do nice things for Elesa, especially if she brings them gifts of sweets from their favorite bakeries around Nimbasa.

(Emmet and Ingo are starting to think of Elesa as one of those devoted "followers" or "patrons" so many of their kind have, though Ingo is sure that is not what a friend is supposed to be-)

That Raikou joke Elesa cracked back when she found out they summoned Dialga for you? Emmet shows up in her gym one day, in between challengers and presents her with a baby Raikou! Elesa didn't even know that there could be baby Raikou, but that's not important; the Raikou is so cute! It's got big ol eyes and big pointy teeth that are too big for it's mouth right now! And big ol' paws!

"You like cute pokemon and you said you wanted one of these so I found this little guy running around Johto for you!" And it's one of the few times Elesa is genuinely elated at the twins' behavior, and Emmet seems so happy that he did something right for a change!

Also she can just call them now on the X-Transceiver if she needs a change in the weather. :)

#Sethosover18 #Demon AU #Monster AU #Demon Submas #Seth.Emmet #Seth.Ingo #Seth.Anon #Seth.Asks #Thank you anon <3

62 notes · View notes

froggy-frogz · 3 years ago

Note

please write ANYTHING that's reagan x reader i am dying to read more about her. i dont know if this request is too general for your taste but if it is, feel free to ignore this aaa

thank you anyways<3

-AJ

A/N: It's not too general!! I wanted an excuse to write more Reagan lover fics ahjksdhfshdf- If this fic is a little too thrown together I wrote this at like 1 am helpppp- I hope you enjoy!!

You had an embarrassing secret, one that was making it so difficult to get any work done. You had the most giant crush on your boss, and it made it so that you couldn't even be around her.

"So what do you think about it, [Y/n]-"

You jump at the mention of your name, letting out a small squeak of surprise, and flip your head up to see some very worried faces.

Jesus, now you must look like a weirdo to them. Not that they could judge you cause they were a bunch of weirdos, but still, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at your lack of awareness today.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't sleep well last night." You half-lie. Well. It was more of a truth than a lie. You couldn't sleep, but it wasn't for insomnia-related reasons or anything. It was because you were thinking about her again. You were almost at that point where you felt like a school kid with a very innocent crush on their best friend.

"Huh. Well, I can't say I blame you, but you have to pay attention, this next mission is kind-" You drown out her words as they just all now sound the same, but continue to nod along.

She was stunning. Sure she was covered in coffee stains, probably hadn't showered for a reasonable amount of time, and her hair was a complete mess but hell, you were in love with her.

"Ughhhh-" You quietly groan. You had early thought about telling her how you felt, so that maybe after she rejected you things could go back to normal, but it was so nerve-wracking. You didn't want to be the cause of ruining your relationship with her altogether.

In your train of thought, you hadn't noticed that everyone was now done for the day, and they all knew either cleaning up to leave or loudly chatting with each other.

Everyone but Reagan though.

She was standing right next to you.

"[Y/n]-"

You jump in your seat, and turn your head to her, trying your best to hide the noise that caught in your throat.

"Can I talk to you real fast? Like in my lab if you don't mind."

Her lab?????

You had never really been in her lab before- well, alone with her anyway. The thought of being alone with her drove your heartbeat almost immediately up the wall.

"Sure, m' not busy." You get up and follow her, praying to whatever God was listening that this wouldn't be the end of you.

"What's up? I figured I'd ask, try to check in on you now that I'm officially your boss now." Reagan snorts, pouring herself a cup of coffee, before passing you a fresh one.

You take it gratefully and sigh, leaning yourself against the wall, "I don't know. Intrusive thoughts I guess. It's not really a big deal, I just need get over it."

Reagan raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of her coffee like she was waiting for you to talk more.

"It's nothing really. You don't have to worry about it."

She clears her throat and snorts at your statement. "That's bullshit. [Y/n] I've known you for a long time now, I can tell when something is actually wrong. You can talk to me, I'm not going to judge you like other people would."

Talking to her was one thing, sure, but telling her that you liked her? Yeah, a whole nother thing. Grr. Why is relationship shit so hard?

Was this the universe's way of it trying to prompt you to tell her? Cause it felt like the universe was trying to peer pressure you because you felt your resolve crumble around you.

"Er, yeah you're right." You set your cup down, but you seemingly can't make eye contact with her, it was sorta hard to find the courage to look her in the eyes. "It's well, I was wondering-"

"Mhm?"

"Didyouwanttogooutsometime?" You slur your words together, wincing at what a fool you just made yourself out to be.

"Uh, sorry?" Reagan blinks and you can see the apparent confusion on her face.

Oh god, you had to repeat yourself- C'mon Reagan.

"I was, was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? Like, on a date?" You wince again, the words rushing out of your mouth.

There was a silence that filled the lab, and you could feel a pit growing in your stomach, making it churn.

Only after what felt like an eternity did Reagan finally open her mouth, "A date? I, with me? I mean sure- I didn't really think you saw me like that.... Like, hol.. holy shit."

You blink and look up to her, and even though you let out a giggle, out of everything you could have responded with, "Uh for a brilliant scientist, sometimes you're a little clueless."

"Yeah, I guess I am." She smiles at you, and you manage to meet her gaze.

Jesus, her smile was really pretty.

"Would tomorrow work? We can go grab dinner. There's this Italian place I've been wanting to try." She says after finally looking away from you, and you had to squint, but you thought you could see the tiniest bit of red on her cheeks.

"Yeah! I'd.... I'd love that." You finish your coffee and hand the cup back to her, "Thanks for uh, agreeing to go out with me, and thanks for the coffee."

She rolls her eyes at the part, but smiles, "Anytime."

#inside job #inside job x reader #inside job reagan #reagan ridely #reagan ridley x reader #reagan x reader #thor x reader #x gn reader

172 notes · View notes

tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

Text

Mihawk Having A Strained Relationship With His Masculine! Daughter

Request : sorry if this is VERY specific but can i request a scenario or headcanons where mihawk has a daughter who is very masculine and dresses very princely that people often mistake her for a boy. (bonus if she has a pet raven🥺) and she acts like mihawk but she hates being compared to him because their relationship is strained because mihawk was always busy with other things when she was growing up. but mihawk tries his best to get back on his daughter's good side and so they can be close again ??

A/N : tried something different- do you prefer me posting fics this way or the way I had prior? - thanks for requesting, I hope I did this right. ;-;

I deeply apologize if this seems offensive somehow. It isn’t my intention at all.

Summary : Mihawk attempting to fix his relationship with his masculine! daughter.

“So strong-looking and stoic. As expected of Hawkeye Mihawk’s son.”

“Son? I recall him having a daughter.”

“Is it a daughter? He doesn’t look like a female..”

Hearing the many whispers among the crows, you tilt your head to the left to eye them, your sharp, empty and intimidating eyes startling them.

Immediately the two strangers kept their mouths shut and strolled off before you could do anything to them.

Exhaling out in annoyance, you turn back to your teacup, handle gripped between your fingers.

Karasu, your raven, sat on the edge of the table in front of you, standing still and waiting for you, whilst basking in the shade given by the umbrella hung up.

You sat outside alone, hoping to be given the peace of quietness on this island you passed by,

but of course, being the only child of the strongest swordsman in the world and a Warlord, you definitely weren’t going to be allowed that.

Dracule Mihawk..

Dracule [Name]..

You despised the name.

You absolutely hated everything that made you related to the infamous swordsman.

It seemed obvious to you as well, that Mihawk despised being related to you. Being your father.

There was never a time where Mihawk would venture away from his castle and not be questioned about you. About his thoughts on your growing strength and fame in the New World.

Same with you. You weren’t sure how news even came out that you were related to him, considering the amount of effort you put to cut ties with him.

Yet people knew, and people asked questions. Lots and lots of questions. Irritation grew easily with you when Mihawk’s name was heard at all.

Even Marines were getting involved with you, even if you weren’t a pirate.

Just merely a traveler, attacking both pirates and marines that stood in your way and to cure boredom.

You never were and never will be given a normal life.

“... Let’s get going, Karasu. Before we get kicked out for scaring customers away.”

The caw of your raven was heard and you smile slightly, the corner of your lip twitching upward as you let him rest on your shoulder before standing up.

Glancing down at your reflection in the small teacup, your lips curl back down into a slight frown, seeing the resemblance indeed, to your father.

“Tch.”

You poured the tea onto the ground and slammed the cup on the table, sucessfully shattering it.

The mutterings didn’t stop. Not that you expected them to. But it was irritating.

Didn’t these people have anything better to do then constantly talk and gossip about you, right in front of you no less?

“Should we get going to our next trip?” You mumble, walking around the coast of the island you were on, needing some peace from the citizens in town.

Mindlessly wandering, your thoughts were interrupting by a messenger bird.

( I forgot what it’s called— it’s not a news coo right? )

Karasu cawed at it, the messenger bird cawing back as it flew down towards you, and dropped an item into your hands.

“A delivery? From who?”

It was a letter, along with a eternal pose.

To Kuraigana Island.

Immediately recognizing the name, your grip tightened on the item, frustration and even anger quickly building up at you at the sight of it.

Leaving it alone for the moment, your eyes turn to the letter.

No signature or anything of the sorts. Just your name.

“[Name].”

Scoffing slightly, you carefully held the eternal pose and opened the letter and read it, the smallest part of your praying it wasn’t what you thought.

“[Name].

I heard you were in the area. I apologize that I cannot come see you in person, as I am occupied with other matters. However, I’d like to speak with you. Come to my castle and we shall discuss matters. I’ve sent you an eternal pose to guide you. Expect to see you soon.

Best Regards, Mihawk”

You then turn to the eternal pose, the engraving of the island name across it. You wanted to break it, destroy it completely from your sight but you couldn’t. You didn’t know why.

After disregarding you, throwing you off and pushing you aside to focus on himself, always neglecting you, why.. why did he want to patch things up now?

The whites of your knuckles were seen from how hard you were gripping the letter, nearly crumpling it.

“Tch. All these years, why now?... doesn’t even have the decency to come see me himself.. ‘other matters’..”

No matter how much you wanted to ignore the letter, to shatter the eternal pose and completely ignore your father forever.. you just couldn’t.

Something in you was demanding to see him one last time.

Either, to hear what he has to say, to finally ask him why he even had you if he wasn’t going to care for you, or perhaps shout at him for all the pain and misery you’ve been given being his child, you weren’t quite sure.

“Damn it.”

Crushing up the letter into a ball, you shove it into your pocket and glance down at the eternal pose.

You were going to visit him.

“Holy..shit..”

Admittedly, you were in awe.

Perhaps it was because you didn’t remember much, but the island was probably one of the best things you’ve ever seen.

The appearance seemed gloomy and dark, but it was just your style. The many trees that surrounded the center of the island and the giant castle with a beautiful view, you were sure of it.

Forcing yourself to ignore the actually really cool place, you trudge forward to look at the letter in your hands, Karasu resting on your shoulder.

“It’s not that cool.. we’ll take a look around after we see what the hell he wants from me..” you could only scoff so you wouldn’t give in to the aesthetic.

But it looked really cool.

Sighing, you continue forward and finally made it to the gate fo the castle, just to find someone sitting there on the step, holding three swords.

He was laying down, panting heavily. His green hair and forehead was soaked with sweat.

Though, it seemed as if he heard you because he snapped up within seconds and held out one of his swords towards you.

“Who the hell are you?”

Your brows furrowed at the male. He seemed around your age, or maybe a bit younger. Either way, he was weird.

“Uh.. I’m here for Mihawk.” You mutter, clearly not threatened nor intimidated by him. In actuality, the swordsman was a bit taken back.

To him, you were just some guy with weird tastes in clothes, since they seem so fancy and royal, and had such a dark aura, resembling Mihawk.

“What’s your business with Hawkeye Mihawk?”

“Are you his guard dog or something?”

The swordsman only scowls are your retorted question and clicks his tongue. “I’m his apprentice, dumbass.”

It made him even more annoyed at your stupid raven constantly staring at him with its sharp eyes and cawing every few seconds towards him.

“Like I’d know that, you stupid...green-hair weirdo.” You stare at him weirdly before walking past him before he could say anything.

He started to shout a few profanities but you simply ignore him, passing a pink-haired female with an umbrella and a teddy-bear along the way, but you paid no mind to her or her stares and calls.

Rubbing your temple, you started to question your choice of coming, and your ‘father’s’ choice of apprentice and his pink-haired girlfriend, you were assuming.

Looking around the hall as you walk, you just sigh and admired the interior design whilst muttering on how the hell you were supposed to know which room he was in.

Feeling lost, you groan a bit, turning to Karasu. “Karasu, should we just go? I have no idea where the hell I am.”

Finding a door, you walk over to it and open it abruptly, pushing it open just to find the person you were looking for.

The noise made Mihawk look up from his book in his hand and he stands up almost immediately when he realizes who it was.

“...”

You two just stared at each other, unable to say anything. Unable to handle the silence, you just turned and went to walk out, until he spoke.

“[Name].”

It nearly made you jump but you, fortunately, didn’t.

Slowly turning back, Mihawk gestures to the couch with the tilt of his head, before going over to a table drawer.

Whatever he was doing, you ignored as you reluctantly close the door behind you but let Karasu outside of the room to wait.

Slowly and cautiously, you went over to the couch and just stood beside it, not really feeling the need to sit down.

Mihawk returns, clutching a small wrapped box in his hand.

“...how was the journey? Did you come across any unwanted miscreants?”

“..naturally. It was handled with ease.. the journey was fine.” You mutter, forming your lips into a tight line as you frown.

Mihawk nods once at you and eyes your form, while you eye the box, wonder what it could be.

Then, he spoke up again. “Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, I’m not expecting any good news to result from this. Whatever you want, just say it so I can leave.”

You turn away from him, establishing the harshness and bitter feeling you felt towards him which he understood. He didn’t deserve any kindness you had to offer.

Though he didn’t voice it aloud, he was a bit impressed with how you grew up. You truly did seem like one powerful force to be reckon with, almost on the same level as himself. You had potential.

There was regret building up in him seeing you though. The fact that you grew up to be someone so strong like you were now..

.. but he didn’t aid in any of that. He wasn’t there and he couldn’t help raise you be the person you were now.

“Are you going to keep staring or start speaking?”

Though he didn’t appreciate your sass, he understood it. “I’ll get straight to the point then.”

“..I.. have no excuse for neglecting you.”

Mihawk admits, slowly taking a seat in his chair. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them.

“Other than that I’ve kept myself busy and away from you. I’ve been losing focus, settling matters on the side than focusing my attention on you.” He stood up again, gripping the box.

Your fists clenched at his words, mind recalling painful memories you’ve suppressed.

“But, before I could realize that I should be caring for you, you were already distant from me. I’ve became someone you despised even at such a young age.”

He continues, slowly stepping towards you as he holds out the wrapped box in his hand, which you slowly took.

“..You dress nice.” He nods at the outfit, appreciating the look. “I’ve had Shanks ask me if I had a son, since he’s also seen you on the news lately. I made sure he’d remember that you are my daughter.”

He didn’t judge you for looking so masculine. He accepted who you are as a person.

Finally stepping in front of you, gently placing a hand onto your shoulder.

“...Mi hija...I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He states firmly, looking down at you. You look up at him, trying to stay calm but it wasn’t working.

“But I’d like to be back into your life, a different way than the first time. However, I understand if you refuse it. Whatever you choose, I shall respect and go with you. I just want you happy.”

You weren’t the sentimental, emotional or sensitive type, but, tears slowly brimmed your eyes hearing him.

You hated the familiar ache in your chest, it pounding inside you and felt like it was ripping you to pieces..., yet, you weren’t angry.

Happy? He wanted you to be happy?... what did feeling happy feel like? Was the thought of finally having this father figure back into your life after missing it for so long, a reason to be happy?

Quietly, you just look down at the box that has your name written over it.

Opening it, you lift the top up and saw the all too familiar necklace inside. A gasp escaped your lips as you look up at Mihawk, realizing what it was and you whispered out.

“You’re giving this to me?” There was a hint of confusion and skepticism in your tone.

Mihawk nods. “I’m handing it down to you.”

Carefully, you lift up the mini cross and pull out the blade inside it and poked your finger, seeing it pricking the skin with ease and blood trickling down.

It was the real thing. And it was just as amazing as you always expected.

You close it back up and set it down onto the table beside you, forcing yourself to contain your excitement.

Though you hated him, you often saw photos of him and saw his familiar cross. Even when you were younger, his mini blade in his cross was extremely cool to you and you always wanted it.

And now he was giving it to you.

“Father, I..”

“I’m aware I may not have been the best father. But I plan on being a good one from now on.. if you’ll allow me to.” Seeing how serious and stoic his expression was, made your tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You were silent for a minute.

“..why now?”

It was all you could ask, you wiping your tear-stained cheeks as you look down, uncertain of how you should react.

How could you react?

Were you willing to give this man a second chance into your life, after he blatantly ignored you the first time?

Or were you going to reject the opportunity of finally experiencing what having a father was like?

Mihawk stares at you for a moment, an unreadable expression across his face before he closed his eyes. “..I’ve been watching you through the news, watching your bounty grow.. I.. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve grown.”

Your eyes widened.

Proud?

Tears streamed down your cheeks faster, your shutting your eyes tightly. You’ve never had someone say they were proud of you for something.

And even if Mihawk was barely in your life, the fact that he was your real father and trying to get back into your life... hearing him say he was proud of you just hit different. It snapped something in you.

“I hate you...”

Mihawk was a bit taken back but showed no emotion, slowly closing his eyes as he accepted your decision.

“I hate you for not being there for me. For not being my father when I needed you.. for leaving me alone for [—] years. For focusing more on yourself than your own child.”

He listened to every word, feeling a small pang in his heart with each statement but remained silent for you.

“But..”

You stare at him with teary eyes and a strained expression. “I’m so happy.. I’m so happy you’re changing.. to bring yourself back into my life.”

Mihawk widens his eyes just slightly, feeling an unknown heavy weight lifting off of his shoulders.

And he certainly didn’t expect you to wrap your arms around his waist tightly and hug him.

Though he was a bit uncomfortable since it was so sudden, and he wasn’t the affectionate type all too much, he quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms back around you.

“Thank you..father..”

“I should be thanking you, [Name].. for giving me a chance to be your father once more.”

His comment only made you lean closer into his touch as you shut your eyes tightly, sniffles being heard from you and staining his shirt.

But he didn’t care. Mihawk was happy. Happy to have you back into his life, and getting a second chance at fatherhood.

bonus :

Perona and Zoro peek into the room from the door and watch the two hugging in the center of the room. On top of Zoro’s head sat your raven, using his hair as a nest.

“So who the hell is that?” Zoro bluntly questions and Perona flicked his head and hissed to shut him up, successfully making him quiet.

“That’s his kid, you moron!” She whispers out harshly to him as she turns back to the two.

“Why the hell is his kid here?” Zoro mutters quietly, rubbing his head, but he only received a smack.

A/N : ooc~ also wth, this is so much longer than intended— and ugh I told myself to keep it short and do headcannons so I have more time to post but ahhhhhhh ;-; this is a little rushed too~ TuT

Also let me know which way is better for posting fics. Answering it in a ask or posting it as a separate post and copying / pasting the request like so? ^ thank you!

god, I’m so soft for some platonic relationships right now, like, I’m thinking about making an event for that, when it’s near March. But I’m already doing an event for my birthday AND White Day, in March so idk :((

#platonic #platonic x reader #one piece platonic #dracule mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op

299 notes · View notes

sleepysnk · 4 years ago

Note

Hey love! I was wondering if I could request first date with Eren? And maybe how nervous they both are but it gets really cute and fluffy? Modern or canon is fine!

hi aimee!! 🥰❤ i definitely had fun with this scenario! i made it into modern au, because i would probably butcher canon Eren 🙄 anyway i hope you enjoy sexy lady and thank you again for requesting! ♡

First Date Jitters

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

A shaky sigh came from Eren's mouth as he looked in the mirror. He just got out of the shower, his date was currently in an hour with (Y/N) and he couldn't be more nervous.

It was his first date with her.

Eren knew (Y/N) for a pretty long time, the two attended the same high school and they both were in the same Physics class. He always thought she was a pretty girl, he just never really had much guts to ask her out.

They both got close fairly quick, they talked every night, facetimed, met up to talk before going to lectures, the two seemed genuinely really interested in one another.

When he asked her to go see a movie with him, he was a blushing mess and he could barely even make eye contact with her. Of course, she said yes and here he was now, getting ready to pick her up.

"You're really this nervous?" his roommate, Armin, asked.

Eren looked at Armin before leaning against the counter. "W-Well.. a little bit," he replied.

The blonde approached him, "You got this Eren, just be yourself! You've known (Y/N) for a long time anyway." a smile formed on his lips.

Eren really wish he could say he's got it, but he felt butterflies in his stomach. Yeah he knew her for a long time, but he's never hung out alone with her and seeing the way the two acted around one another... he had every right to be nervous. Eren liked (Y/N).

Eren looked at his phone, the screen displayed that he had less than an hour before he had to go get her.

"What if I mess this up?" Eren asked, looking Armin with concern.

Armin patted his shoulder, "You aren't as long you treat her with respect and make sure you don't do anything that makes her uncomfortable," he said.

He sighed, his nerves felt high still and he couldn't help it. He didn't want his anxiousness to ruin the date and it would be horrible if she was turned off by it! He just wanted to make a good impression, that's all.

On the other hand, (Y/N) was feeling the same way about this date. She was a nervous wreck and her stomach was knotted up from everything.

"I don't even know what to wear!" she exclaimed.

Her roommate, Sasha, was trying her best to calm her down.

"(Y/N)! Relax! It's just Eren.. he definitely has seen you in bummy outfits. Just wear some jeans and a nice shirt," she said, standing up and walking towards her closet.

(Y/N) plopped down on her bed, she felt her heart thumping in her chest. "Ugh.. I just.. I don't wanna ruin this! Eren is really cute and I don't wanna come off as a weirdo," she said.

Sasha rubbed her back, "You aren't gonna ruin it (Y/N), Eren is a really nice guy, if I thought you were gonna mess this up I would have told you to not even bother going."

Her phone suddenly vibrated which made her scramble to grab it.

Sasha looked up, "What did he say?" she asked.

(Y/N) looked at the text from Eren.

Eren: hey! i'm almost ready, should i come get you soon?

"He's asking if he should come get me," she replied, looking at Sasha.

"Girl go find a damn outfit! Stop freaking out woman!" Sasha said.

(Y/N) went towards her closet and grabbed an outfit. Some ripped dark jeans and a white spaghetti tank top, she added a bracelet and fixed up her hair.

"How does it look?" she asked, looking at Sasha.

Sasha gave a thumbs up. "You look sexy! He won't be able to resist you in that," she smirked.

As if on cue, her phone suddenly vibrated again.

Eren: i'm on my way!

"He's on his way.." she said, grabbing some perfume and spraying it onto her skin.

"You got this! I believe in you (Y/N)!" Sasha said, smiling at her.

She really wished she could believe that.

Eren chewed his bottom lip as he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment building, his heart thumped in his chest and his stomach did flips as he got closer to the address.

Armin told him not to worry, but he couldn't help worrying. He liked her and this was the only time he could show it.

He pulled up in front of the building and sent her a text letting him know he was there. His leg shook as he patiently waited.

Calm down Eren, she's not gonna be weirded out. Eren thought to himself.

(Y/N) suddenly appeared, she exited her building and got into Eren's car.

"Hey!" she said, smiling at him.

Eren gave her smile, "Hey! You look nice.." he said, looking at her outfit.

Her cheeks grew warm, "T-Thank you.. you look nice yourself," she replied.

A dust of pink hinted onto Eren's cheeks. His nerves still feeling high and he was trying his best to not make it noticeable.

He started driving to the movie theatre, there was some awkward silence in the car.

"S-So.. um, how are you doing?" he asked.

She fidgeted with her fingers. "Um.. I'm okay? I guess? I've just been stressing with exams and all that," she replied.

Her gaze made its way to Eren, he looked really good right now. He was wear a black crewneck with black jeans, his cologne filled her nose. It was a pine and vanilla scent.

"I'm doing okay too.. that physics final really beat my ass but other than that I'm alright," he said, his eyes looking at her in the passenger seat.

She laughed a bit, "It was hard for sure," she said, looking out the window. "Do you have a movie picked out?"

Eren turned into the theatre. "Actually no, I was hoping to pick one with you." he replied.

She nodded her head, "Sounds good!" she smiled.

Eren parked his car and the two got out, (Y/N) silently prayed Eren didn't see her shaky legs as she walked with him into the theatre. She picked at the skin of her nails, her heart racing as he came next to her.

"We should see a horror movie, if you want." he said.

Her gaze averted towards him, "That sounds like fun! I love horror movies," she replied.

Eren felt his heart hammering in his chest, she smelled great and her overall persona was making him nervous. A million thoughts were rushing into his head, what if he did something embarrassing? What if she was uncomfortable?

"Hello! How may I help you?" the clerk asked, nodding her head at the two.

"U-Uh.. two tickets for The Conjuring 2," Eren replied, taking out his wallet.

(Y/N) was about to take out her own when Eren stopped her. "I got it."

Her cheeks were warm from the gesture, no guy had ever paid for a date before. Well, any guy she's been on a date with.

Eren grabbed the tickets and lead (Y/N) inside the theatre, the smell of popcorn and sweets filled into her nose making her stomach growl slightly.

"You want anything?" Eren asked, looking down at her.

She looked at the different snacks, "U-Um.. not really," she replied, looking away from his gaze.

He grabbed some sour gummy worms and some Hershey's kisses. His two favorite candies, sweet and sour.

He put it onto the counter, the guy behind it scanned it and Eren handed him the bill. "Come on," he said, nodding his head to the side.

(Y/N) swallowed thickly as she followed Eren to the theatre, she felt her body growing warm and her heart beginning to race again. What if Eren is weirded out by the way she's acting? What if he saw her shaky legs? Ugh.. this was all too much.

He held the door open for her as she entered the room, "Thanks.." she whispered.

Eren followed after her, she made her way up the steps towards the back, many people were already seated and watching the different movie trailers that played on the screen.

"Have you seen this one before?" Eren asked in a whisper.

She nodded, "No.. scary movies do freak me out though," she replied.

Eren smiled at the thought of her being scared, "Don't worry.. I'll protect you," he said, chuckling a bit.

Her cheeks grew hot again, "Please do.." she replied.

He was surprised at that answer, a blush formed onto his cheeks hearing her words.

Within a few minutes the movie started, it was the usual talk about demons and ghosts, as well as an introduction to who the Warren's were. Eren had seen this movie a million times, but it was always a classic favorite of his.

(Y/N) was moving her feet around and shaking her leg, what if she embarrassed herself right now?

Suddenly a jumpscare flashed and many people jumped including (Y/N), a small squeak escaped her mouth as she gripped Eren's arm.

He turned red feeling her touch, it took her a minute but (Y/N) soon noticed her squeeze around his arm.

"Sorry!" she whispered, trying her best to ignore the growing heat on her cheeks.

Eren swallowed thickly, "N-No.. don't apologize! Um.. here," he said.

She looked over to see him moving the armrest between them, he pulled it up so the space between them was now opened. His arms wide for her.

"Y-You don't have to.. of course.." he mumbled, his cheeks bright pink.

She looked at the screen then back at him, "N-No! You're fine.. I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable.." she whispered.

"You won't.." he replied.

That's when she leaned into his chest, she could feel her hands trembling as she placed them onto his stomach. Eren's heart thumping against his chest could be heard from her ear. His arm found its way around the flesh of her waist, tightening around her so she'd feel a sense of security.

Another jumpscare flashed and she jumped again, Eren smiled at that. He found it.. cute?

"Sorry.." she whispered.

His hand found its way to her hair, "Don't worry about it.."

She looked up at him then back at the screen, the different screams and yelling coming from the people in the movie filled her ears.

Eventually, the movie came to an end. (Y/N) was so comfortable on his chest she almost wanted to lay there the whole time, but considering how late it was, that wasn't exactly an option.

She rose from her seat, cracking her joints and stretching. She turned to meet Eren's gaze on her, he was standing and stretching himself.

"What'd you think?" he asked with a smile.

She giggled, "Not bad.. but it was scary."

He hummed in response, "Let's head out," he said.

She nodded before following him down the steps and exiting the showing room. Her eyes adjusted to the light, making her squint a little. Eren tossed his snacks into the garbage since he finished them during the movie.

He held the door open as he exited the theatre, (Y/N) shivered as she walked out. The cold air enveloping her skin.

"I should have brought a jacket.." she said, laughing a bit.

Eren raised his brows, "Here," he said.

She furrowed her brows watching Eren take off his crewneck, he had a white shirt underneath it. She could faintly see the skin of his stomach as he lifted it off him.

"Eren you don't have to-"

"No, let me. It'd be rude of me to let you shiver here.. so take it, I don't mind." Eren replied, holding the fabric out for her.

She smiled, taking it and throwing it over herself. It was warm and his scent was all over it, she felt comfort in it.

"Thank you.." she said, her cheeks growing hot again.

Eren rubbed the back of his neck, a smile forming on his lips. "No problem!"

The two went to his car and climbed in to drive back to her apartment, Eren and (Y/N) were more comfortable with each other now. They joked around, talked about the movie, and talked about other movies they'd like to see with each other.

Eren put the car in park as he pulled up to the front of her apartment building.

She removed her seatbelt and looked at him. "Thank you for tonight.. it was really fun," she smiled.

He smiled himself, "Yeah no problem! I had a lot of fun too.. don't worry about my shirt either, you can keep it." he replied.

"Sounds good! Um.. I guess I'll see you in class?" she asked, nodding her head.

Eren shook his head, "No yeah! I'll see you then," he replied.

She began to make her way out of his car.

"Wait!"

Her head turned back towards him. "Hm? What's up?" she asked, blinking a few times.

"Uh.. u-um, I just.. I had a lot of fun tonight, you know? I was- u-um.. wondering if you.. wanted to hangout again?" he said, his cheeks visibly pink.

She giggled, "Of course! I would love to hangout with you.. maybe a second date?" she said.

His heart swelled, "Y-Yeah! That sounds great!" he replied.

She smiled before leaning in to press her lips on his cheek, "See you later."

Eren's eyes went wide, but nonetheless he felt flustered and excited. "Have a good night," he said, smiling.

She exited his car and waved, she disappeared into her apartment building.

Eren smiled at he pulled off towards the road, who knew this date would go so well? He was definitely eager to see (Y/N) again.

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk imagines #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic

163 notes · View notes

marvelmymarvel · 4 years ago

Text

Lonely

Orochimaru x Reader

Synopsis: Time and distance didn’t matter when it came to Orochimaru, but you hated feeling so lonely without him.

Song: ilomilo by Billie Eilish (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lH1F6m3slrQ)

A/n: Its long, I get that he seems out of character. Idc. I love him. No shame.

They called you many things. A loser, a weirdo, a traitor... So many names that you lost track of them all, but none of them mattered when it came to him. You personally didn’t understand it yourself, why you left the Leaf Village in search of the man who killed your Hokage. Being apart of the ANBU black ops made the escape 10x more difficult and dangerous, as they now considered you a threat to the village. You knew too much, but none of it mattered.

Only he did.

At first, the pale man was annoyed by your presence and how you kept popping up at every single hideout he moved to. He tried and tried again to get rid of you, even going so far as sicking his ninja on you, instructing them to rough you up and scare you away. But they did much more than that and left you to die outside of yet another hideout you found. They figured that killing you was easier than sending Orochimaru’s stupid warning, so they never told him and continued on with their life.

It was quiet for a week, but soon enough his henchmen dragged you into yet another secret hideout. He was running out of options and even Kabuto was growing agitated by your constant presence, but something in the air changed that day. The guards threw you down in front of him, your body littered with bruises and cuts. Orochimaru sat up straighter in his chair, taking in the sight of your unconscious and bloody body in the middle of the room. They had done a number on you and something stirred inside of the pale man at the view of your vulnerable body.

The guards looked up at their boss, expecting reassuring praise for their work but all they got was a snarl. “I told you to scare her... Not beat her half to death” Kabuto hissed out as he stomped over towards them angrily, he felt his master's temper flare and he was not about to be the punching bag for an idiotic decision that wasn’t his. The guards sputtered out excuses, claiming that you never listened to their threats, and decided that maybe beating you to death would help everyone out.

‘Death’

The word struck a chord within Orochimaru who was now crouched over your body, hand shakily brushing the blood away from your mouth. He was terrifyingly silent as if he was a bomb with no timer. The three men grew silent while they took in the oddly soft and caring caress. It should have been shocking to see such a sweet action, but it only made the fear grow within the two guards. Kabuto side-eyed them, they didn’t know it but he knew Orochimaru was seconds away from exploding.

“What do you want me to do with them?”

The two guards headshot to Kabuto, mouth gawking as they tried to explain how they were doing Orochimaru a service. They explained and explained how you were a creep, a weirdo, and a threat, they had to get rid of you. Kabuto ignored it but secretly prayed for them to shut up before Orochimaru killed them himself. His patience was growing thinner the more he caressed your bloody skin and hearing how they talked about you only sped up that process, he was 10 seconds away from snapping... But something felt off.

“Kill them, slowly and painfully. Do the same thing to them as they did to her”

Their loud pleading soon became a muffled cry as they were hauled out by the other guards standing by. Kabuto stood by the door, observing the way Orochimaru sat down beside you. His hand trailed slowly to your face before a blue light emitted between his skin and yours. Kabuto’s eyebrows furrowed, Orochimaru knew some medical ninjutsu, but he hadn’t used it for years since it drained him.

“Do you need something Kabuto?”

Kabuto perked up with a sharp inhale, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at the exchange. Orochimaru didn’t seem bothered and instead moved his glowing hand down to your stomach where blood was pooling from a deep wound. “Would you like me to get the medical ninja sir?” silence filled the room but the words hung heavy in the air, it was dangerous to assume that Orochimaru cared but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something changed.

“Yes” Orochimaru’s whisper hit Kabuto’s ears and without another word, he left to go get the medical ninja who could heal you much more than Orochimaru ever could. Leaving Orochimaru with only his thoughts and your limp body-

“Oh tell it again Kabuto!” you exclaimed cutting off the man right as the story was beginning to end. It had been months now since the incident occurred, but you couldn’t get enough of the way the pale man treated your unconscious form. Kabuto rolled his eyes at your hopeless romantic ways but according to Orochimaru, he had to do whatever you wanted. Kabuto opened his mouth again but a heavy sigh falling from your lips stopped him short.

“What's the matter? I thought you liked the story-”

“If he really cared about me, he would show it.. But he doesn't” Kabuto’s mouth shut at your words, because in all honesty, you were right. The softness that Orochimaru showed you that day was never repeated and you were now treated like everyone else. It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you were able to see Orochimaru once a month...

Your frown deepened at the thought, coldness spreading within your body as you once again grew lonely. Kabuto was your only friend and even that was a stretch as he was growing quite annoyed with taking care of you. Silence filled the stale air of your room deep inside of the hideout, it was the 5th one this month and each left you disoriented and afraid. It was supposed to be designed this way, so intruders would have a tough time finding their way through it, but you hated it.

Kabuto knew this, which is why the first couple of days in a new place meant 24-hour surveillance and company in the hopes of breaking you into the new atmosphere. Your feet kicked at the ground below you, lip pulled between your teeth as you fought back tears. It was silly really, an ex ANBU being afraid of a windowless and disorienting place, but you couldn’t help it. “I get it if you think I’m weak... They did too” you whispered out as you swiftly wiped away your falling tears, hoping he wouldn’t see them but knowing he did.

He always did.

Kabuto pursed his lips in response, while he had been taking care of you he had also learned a lot about you. Partly because he was curious, but mainly because Orochimaru asked him to. ‘I want you to learn everything about her, and report it back to me’ Orochimaru would instruct nonchalantly as if there was no sentimental meaning behind his words, but Kabuto knew better. There was something different in the way he said it as if he cared for you. It was a weird way of showing his care, but Kabuto never questioned it and instead asked you questions ranging from ‘what's your favorite color?’ to ‘why did you leave the ANBU?’

And the ANBU question was what made your walls come crashing down.

“The ANBU simply couldn’t handle a sensitive person like you... Sensitive people aren’t meant for that group” Kabuto stated simply knowing that their hatred for you was pure jealousy. Those in the ANBU were beaten down until there was nothing left but a soldier, it was effective but apparently, you were able to get through it and still smile like an innocent child. Teasing you became a game, and they even tried to see who could make you cry the fastest. That fact shocked Kabuto when he learned about it, but telling Orochimaru was a whole other story.

He remembered that day. Remembered how Orochimaru halted in place over his experiments, back growing tense as the anger rose within him. That was the same day that Kabuto realized what was going on with his master. He would never dare tell Orochimaru, nor would he ever tell you for fear of backlash, but he could never and would never forget that tense feeling in the air. So protective. So angry. His boss lied when he said he didn’t care for you...

He was in love with you.

Your nodding brought Kabuto from his memories, sometimes he hated being honest with you as the tears only continued to cascade down your cheeks. He couldn’t fix you, couldn’t heal you... That wasn’t his job and if he tried to do it... Well, he may lose his head.

Fighting the urge to give you a hug, Kabuto instead stood and swiftly walked to the door. “You should get some rest... Traveling always tires you out” his cold tone only seized your heart up more, once again feeling alone in the small room. Sometimes you wished that Kabuto would stay until you fell asleep, but you weren’t a child and he wasn’t your friend.

“Okay” your whimper made him bite his lip in regret and he was thankful that his back was facing you so that you couldn’t see it. ‘Babies have to cry it out’ he repeated in his head as he exited quickly from your room, leaving you alone as the door closed behind him. He stood there for a second, bouncing on his feet as he prayed for you to calm down without him. You had to learn to self soothe, or you’d never make it here.

Leaning his ear against the door, the soft sound of your sniffling hit his ears but for the first time in the past couple of weeks, he didn’t hear sobbing. Letting out a sigh, he began to walk away from the room and towards the lab where he would soon relay all of the information to Orochimaru. Everything except your crying of course.

He never told him about that...

You let out the sob as you heard his footsteps grow quiet, signaling that Kabuto was gone and you were now alone. The sharp wail that fell from your lips surprised even you, causing your hand to fly over your open mouth to quiet it down. The feeling of loneliness ached within your bones, and coldness seeped into your skin despite the room being muggy. 29 days. It had been 29 days since you last saw Orochimaru. You didn’t know why, but the man soon became your rock and the reason you were breathing.

And you hated it.

Hated how easy you fell for him. Hated how lonely you felt without him. Hated how scared you were when he was out on a mission. You hated it, yet you loved him. The silent sobs that racked your body calmed down as the thought of him soothed your tight chest. Closing your eyes, you lifted your hands and crossed your arms. Your left hand touched your right cheek first and by the time your right touched your left cheek, your anxiety had vanished. It made you sigh out in relief, the action tricking your brain into thinking that your face was being cradled.

You imagined it was Orochimaru holding you instead, an action he’s done only once, but you never forgot the way he felt or how he smelt. A tear slipped down and your thumb swiped it away automatically, this was becoming a nightly routine of yours. It seemed pathetic, but it was the only way you knew how to self soothe. You laid onto your side, moving one hand under your head while the other continued to caress your jaw soothingly. The bed was cold, but you didn’t mind. Instead, you fell asleep to the thought of Orochimaru holding you, his tight and warm embrace reassuring you that you were safe and sound.

If only it was real.

Your body jolted awake but the nightmare still flashed in your head like a neverending movie. The candle had burned out, leaving you in the darkness of a room you didn’t know. Breathing seemed to grow harder as you tried to adjust to the darkness, but it seemed to encapsulate you like a coffin. Standing swiftly, you raced over towards the door, throwing it open in the hopes of meeting a brightly lit hall.

Your blood ran cold as you peered into the dimly lit hall, the walls and ceiling were carved in a way that made your world tilt around you as your stomach twisted in fear. “Orochimaru” you cried out softly, stumbling into the hallway in the hopes of finding him along the way. The hall was neverending and seemed to grow darker the farther you ran down it. “Orochimaru!” your scream echoed down the hall as you slowed down to catch your breath.

You urged your heart rate to slow down, but it only raced faster as the torches around you blew out, leaving you in utter darkness. A soft sob fell from your lips before you once again began to run forward. You kept crying out for him as if he’d be able to hear you. As if he would care. Your body crashed into a wall, knocking all of the breath from your body as you tumbled to the floor. Silence filled the space around you, the only sound being your broken sobs as you gripped the floor for dear life.

The nightmare seemed to come back and you could no longer discern what was real and what was fake. Were you still dreaming? Were the ANBU here to kill you? Did they leave you to die? Did Orochimaru leave you to die? “Oro” you cried out weakly, wincing at just how broken you sounded. Pushing up from your position on the ground, you tried to fight back the feeling that bubbled up in your chest. You had to know if it was real, was this real?

Before you could stop it, you opened your mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream. Your fingers screaming in pain along with you as you gripped the stone below you harder, grounding yourself as your body let out the feelings you’d been holding in for months now. The scream cut off, and you geared up for another one, wanting to chase that freeing feeling of just letting it all out.

“Now now, why are you out of bed?”

An arm wrapped around your waist and the scream in your throat faded out as the words hit your ears. The previous scream echoed down the hall as his words echoed through your head. The torches were once again illuminated, as if they were never extinguished to begin with. Black hair fell over your shoulder and a familiar smell filled your senses, wrapping you in a bubble of protection. Your head snapped up at the sound of feet and you realized that guards were surrounding you two.

“Orochimaru” you whispered out, hand trailing down to grasp the hand that was tightly gripping your hip. His arm clenched around your waist at the feeling of your shaky hand, snarling at the way the guards approached you in rage. “You can all leave” Orochimaru growled, eyes snapping to Kabuto who stood in front of them all. “Sir, she left her room without permission-”

“LEAVE”

You squeaked in surprise, body contracting into his as the men fled from their angry boss. Kabuto stood still, swallowing as he took in the way Orochimaru stared at him. He hadn’t been honest with him, in fact, he never told Orochimaru about your constant crying. But now, he knew everything. The anger grew within Orochimaru’s body as he felt you relax within his embrace, this was all you wanted. “I didn’t want to bother you about it sir” Kabuto stuttered out, hand scratching the base of his neck sheepishly.

Orochimaru stayed silent, but his body tensed behind you as he began to process it all. You had been crying yourself to sleep every night, and not once did Kabuto tell him. Your e/c eyes met Kabuto’s, and you didn’t blame him for staying silent. “I told him not to tell you” you whispered out as your other hand rose to touch Orochimaru's face behind you. It was clumsy considering you couldn’t see where your hand was, but you smiled as he leaned into it nonetheless.

A couple seconds passed, but you noticed the way the atmosphere shifted from tense to relieved. Without another word, Orochimaru stood and helped you up with him. He was still glaring at Kabuto, knowing that you were lying to save him... But, if you lied to him of all people, then maybe Kabuto meant something to you. Hurt panged in Orochimaru’s chest, a wave of new anger rising within him at the thought of Kabuto spending so much more time with you than he did. “You’re relieved of your duties” Orochimaru muttered, arms tightening around your body in a silent display of dominance.

Kabuto nodded before turning and walking back to his own quarters, thankful that he only got a threatening glare instead of a torturous death. Orochimaru tried to calm down the rising fear bubbling under his chest at the thought of Kabuto somehow stealing you from him. Your arms tightened around him, head snuggling underneath his chin as euphoria coursed through your veins. The nightmare and worries were now long forgotten as you cuddled deeper into the taller man's body.

Looking down at you, Orochimaru fought back a smile at the peaceful look on your face. Eyes closed and lips pulled up into a dreamy smile. If he didn’t know it before, he realized it now as he looked down upon you. The painful feeling he got in his chest whenever Kabuto came back with an update. The way his heart sped up at the sight of you. The restless nights he encountered as he worried about your wellbeing. How his mind wandered to you whenever he worked in the lab.

He hummed at the thought before pulling you deeper into his body, arms tightly wrapped around you like a shield. He loved you, it had been quite a while since he loved someone... “Why were you so persistent? Why did you choose me?” your eyes snapped open at his question, but you refused to look at him as you grew embarrassed.

“I-I...”

His fingers grasped your chin, craning your neck and forcing you to look at him. His slitted pupils were blown out, yet you weren’t sure if it was because of the dim lighting or something else. “Tell me. I need to hear it” Orochimaru whispered as his face got closer to yours, it wasn’t meant to intimidate you but he couldn’t help but grow a bit giddy at how you recoiled in shame. “When I saw you, I knew that you were my... It's silly” you had managed to move your chin from his grasp, eyes casting downwards as you shook your head at the thought.

Orochimaru gripped your chin once more, this time a bit harder as he forced you to look back at him. His mouth was inches from yours, and it felt like all of the wind was knocked out of you by how close he was. His breath fanned out onto your face, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. He didn’t have to say anything, for the action was enough to reassure you that he didn’t care how silly it was.

He had to hear it... He had to hear what Kabuto told him long ago.

“I knew you were my soulmate... I know it's crazy and I’ve only told Kabuto but-” You were spun around before you could finish, back crashing into the wall as Orochimaru shoved his lips against yours. It was heavy while he kissed you feverishly as if you were the only thing that could bring his excitement down. You moaned into his mouth, teeth clashing with his in response to the sudden move. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for better access while his hands wandered along your body. He wanted to learn and remember every single feature of your body, he had so much to catch up on.

After what felt like a minute Orochimaru finally pulled back, leaving you a flustered mess below him. One of his hands cradled your cheek, softly caressing the skin with his thumb as he took in the view. Your eyes shut at the feeling, remembering how only hours ago, you wished to feel this exact action. “Can I be honest with you?” you whispered out, eyes still shut in fear of him rejecting your question. When you were met with silence, you decided to continue.

“I don't like being away from you... It scares me”

The tightened grip on your cheek was the only indicator that he wasn’t upset with you, in fact, it almost felt like he was upset with himself. “Then you shall never leave my side” serenity filled your bones, replacing the loneliness that once laid heavy within them with a lighter, happier feeling. You would never be alone again.

“C-can I stay with you? In your room I mean... I feel so lonely in my room” he didn’t answer your plea and instead pressed his head against yours, hoping you’d understand that when he said you’d be by his side forever. He meant it. His lips met the tip of your nose, the action leaving you bewildered in his embrace. Orochimaru wasn’t one for ‘soft’ things, that much you had learned in a couple of months being around him.

Opening your eyes, you were relieved to see that his eyes were closed. A smile formed on your lips as you took in his blissed out face, maybe he was lonely too... Maybe, just maybe he needed you as much as you needed him. That question may never be answered, but it didn’t have to be. Because no one could deny it, he was your soulmate.

And you were his.

#orochimaru imagine #orochimaru imagines #orochimaru x reader #orochimaru #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto #orochimaru fanfiction #orochimaru x y/n

283 notes · View notes

haus-seeblick · 3 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 6: “Who Brings a Gun to a Cemetery?”

For Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Rating: General Audiences; Ship: Pre-Destiel; WC: 3,219

POV Outsider (Original Male Character); full tags on AO3 or below the cut.

Summary: Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A lot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper. It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

In which: Jerry Wallace encounters Dean Winchester, supposed Satanist.

On AO3 Here (or read under the cut!)

Full Tags: POV Outsider, This poor cemetery guard doesn't know what to do about Dean Winchester, Dean seems insane, BAMF Castiel, Early Seasons Dean and Cas, Pre-Relationship Dean and Cas, Pre-Friendship Dean and Cas, somehow they still manage to flirt though, POV Character is briefly threatened by Dean Winchester but it all ends OK,Humor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerry Wallace has seen a lot of satanic rituals. A Iot. Candles and daggers, pentagrams, hoods and chanting; you name it, he’s seen it. As the head of security — and only guard — of Sullivan Cemetery, he’s bound to have run into the occasional devil worshipper (and worse. People dig up graves for really unsavory reasons). It doesn’t even faze him anymore. There’s not much Jerry Wallace hasn’t seen.

But tonight, as he sweeps his flashlight back and forth across the dewy grass, making his rounds and sipping on his steaming coffee, something stops him short. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head to listen. There’s a scuffling sound up ahead, from just outside the Bennett mausoleum. It sounds too big to be any of the usual animals. Humans, then. Jerry sighs. He was hoping for a quiet night, so he could make himself comfortable under the lamp at the cemetery entrance and read the book his teenage son, Andrew, had lent him. Cemetery Boys, it’s called. Jerry finds it fitting.

A man’s rough voice rings out from around the corner of the mausoleum. “Dammit, Sam, you can’t give me any hints?”

Jerry blinks at the audacity. Who sneaks into a cemetery at night and doesn’t even try to be quiet about it? He decides to give these particular satanists a little scare, just to teach them a lesson. He switches off his flashlight and gently sets his precious cup of coffee on top of the nearest headstone. Time to have some fun.

He sneaks on silent feet across the grass, clutching his flashlight tight in hand and deciding which tactic he wants to use. The reliable old jump scare? Flashlight beam to the face and an earsplitting yell — it’s worked well on thrill-seeking teenagers in the past. Or the more tricky option, creeping around and making ghostly sounds to unnerve the trespassers so thoroughly that they leave? More time investment, but also more amusing in the long run — Jerry decides on Option Two.

The wall of the mausoleum gives him excellent cover to start his performance. He sidles up along it, to the very edge. The intruders are just around the corner, and it sounds like one of them’s rummaging around in a bag of some sort. Jerry rolls his eyes. Probably some weirdos with spray paint, here to deface the walls of the mausoleum with symbols that take ages to wash off. Jerry opens his mouth and is about to emit his first long, ghostly moan, when the same voice as before pipes up again.

“Picking the lock didn’t work, Sam, I’m telling you, it’s gonna take longer. You gotta hold her off.”

The other person — Sam — doesn’t reply, though. Jerry furrows his brow. Who’s being held off? He decides to get a better picture of the scene before initiating his plan. Very slowly, he pokes just the right side of his face around the corner. The front of the small white building is washed in moonlight, the nearest lamp a ways down the path.

There’s a man crouched outside the mausoleum, maybe in his late twenties, from what Jerry can tell in the low light. He’s wearing an oversized leather jacket over a patterned shirt, with jeans and sturdy-looking boots. His short hair is spiked a bit in the front.

He doesn’t look like a satanist. Jerry stays very still, breathing shallowly and watching.

The man has both hands in a medium-sized duffel bag, rooting around. The contents of the bag are clanging and thudding. With a triumphant exhale, the man stands up, crowbar in hand. Jerry balks. This is already a step beyond chanting and spray paint. Again, nothing he hasn’t seen before, though.

What Jerry couldn’t see while the man was crouched, that now makes itself clear, is that he has a mobile phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. As the man advances on the door with the crowbar, he barks into the phone, “Update, Sammy. You still kicking?”

Jerry can’t make out Sam’s muffled response, but it obviously displeases the man, because he whacks the crowbar against the mausoleum door with a frustrated growl. “Watch your back. Figure out what the hell I’m supposed to burn!” He flips the phone shut and stuffs it into his jacket pocket.

This is getting stranger and stranger. Jerry watches as the man goes to town on the mausoleum door, an offense that Jerry would usually be more inclined to stop from happening. Something about this man, though, about the way he carries himself and the way he talks, is holding Jerry back.

He’s very glad about his decision to stay put about ten seconds later, when the man drops the crowbar to the ground with a clang and pulls a gun out of his jacket. Jerry doesn’t even carry a gun. His heart starts beating and his palms prickle with sweat. He didn’t sign up for this. Who brings a gun to a cemetery?

The man steps back a couple feet, points the handgun at the lock, hunches his shoulders, and fires. Jerry barely has the wherewithal to throw himself back around the corner and press his hands over his ears before the shot goes off. He feels it reverberate through the wall, twice, as the man fires again. Fully out of sight now, Jerry gingerly lowers the zipper on his jacket and reaches into his chest pocket for his radio. He needs to call this in. This is way above his pay grade.

“Dammit!” the man yells. The gun must’ve been ineffective. Jerry mentally pats himself on the shoulder. He requested upgrades to all mausoleum locks after a series of break ins last year, and it looks like the security company came through.

Jerry hears the keypad of the mobile phone beeping as the man punches in a number, then there’s muffled ringing. Jerry uses the sound as cover to pull his radio out and to inch his face around the corner again so he has a visual of the scene.

The man’s phone rings and rings. With another frustrated yell, the man slaps it shut and paces back and forth in front of the door, one hand running through his hair, the other still holding his gun. After a few moments, he stops in his tracks. He’s facing Jerry’s direction, silvery moonlight throwing his cheekbones in sharp relief. He looks like a respectable young man, really. Jerry wonders where he lost his way.

There’s a set of complicated emotions working their way across the man’s face. His eyebrows are pinched in concentration, eyes squeezed shut, lips moving as if he’s talking to himself. This lasts about ten seconds before he throws up his hands and glares at the sky.

“Oh, come on!” he shouts. “Get your harp-toting ass down here! Castiel!”

Jerry, who prides himself on never swearing, thinks: What the fuck.

The man is obviously disturbed. He needs a doctor. Jerry glances down at the radio in his hand, and presses the emergency button. He can’t afford a conversation with dispatch; the man will overhear. This will at least get someone out here.

When Jerry looks back up, he twitches. There are now two men in front of the mausoleum. The newcomer is wearing a long trenchcoat and standing stiffly. He’s facing away from Jerry, looking at the gunman, sensible shoes planted hip-width apart. His messy dark hair blends into the shadows.

Where on earth did he come from? Jerry darts his eyes around. The mausoleum is on a slightly raised part of the cemetery, visibility clear in all directions. Even if the trenchcoat man had approached from the opposite side of the building, Jerry would have seen him.

“Cas,” the gunman says, voice heavy with something like — relief, perhaps? His tense posture relaxes slightly and he claps the trenchcoat man on the shoulder. “You took your time,” he accuses. “Can you open those doors?”

The trenchcoat man, Cas — is this Castiel? Jerry cannot keep up — turns slightly to regard the doors.

“This is why you prayed to me?” Cas’ voice is deeper than the gunman’s, rougher. He speaks like a robot. “Heaven is at war, Dean. You call me to help you break down a door?”

Jerry’s brain is spinning. Are these… actors? Cosplayers? He learned about cosplayers from Andrew. Some of them do have very elaborate costumes. Jerry squints at Cas’ back. This doesn’t look like a costume, though. Cas looks like a tax accountant. Like he should be at home with his family at this time of night.

“Sam’s in trouble,” Dean’s saying, an ever-so-slight pleading edge to the words. “I gotta get in here, Cas, or he’s gonna meet a real bad end. I know you’ve got the mojo, come on!”

“I do not exist to do your bidding,” Cas replies. He strides over to the doors, though, trenchcoat flapping around his calves. “I do not serve you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re a warrior.” Dean’s hovering at Cas’ shoulder. “Can you blast ‘em?”

Cas lays a hand on the doors, long fingers splayed against the metal. Jerry glances down at his radio again. The red button is flashing, indicating that he’d called for help, but he can’t hear any sirens yet. He hopes they send enough officers for two grave-desecrating weirdos.

“Stand back,” Cas says. “And tell the man behind the wall to stand back, too.”

“What?” Dean’s head whips around.

Jerry hastily pulls his head out of sight, heart racing. Oh, no. He’s seen enough. He can ID these two for the cops later. He doesn’t need to be on the scene.

He turns heel to run, but makes it only two steps before a hand grabs his collar and yanks him back. The air is knocked out of him and he yelps, feet scrabbling on the pavement as a strong arm drags him around the corner. He lands on his butt in front of the doors, palms scraping on the ground. He quickly raises one over his head in surrender.

“Please— please, I have a family!” He keeps his eyes averted. Dean’s boots are inches away from his legs. “Don’t hurt me, I won’t say a word, I promise!”

“You the guard?” Dean crouches down in front of him. Oh, lord, the gun is trained on Jerry’s face. He whimpers and nods.

“Great. Give me the keys to the doors. Stat.” A palm appears in front of Jerry’s chest, held out in expectation. He hesitates. Isn’t that aiding and abetting?

No way. He’s at gunpoint. He nods again, fervently, and fumbles in his pocket for his ring of keys. His hand shakes violently as he drops them onto Dean’s outstretched palm. He sneaks a peek up at the men.

“Cas,” Dean says, tossing the keys to the trenchcoat man. “Figure out which one it is. I’ll deal with him.”

Cas catches the keys. “So, you do not want me to break the doors?”

“No— just—” Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lips pressed together. “Just unlock them.” Cas scowls, but begins slotting the various keys into the mausoleum lock.

Dean turns back to Jerry and waves a hand in front of his face. “Hey,” he snaps. Jerry meets his eyes, conscious that he must look utterly terrified. He hopes it’ll appeal to any sense of humanity in this gun-toting lunatic.

“Whatever you think I am, I’m not,” Dean says, quickly and gruffly. “I’m not some pervert tryin’ to get my rocks off with Sleeping Beauty in there. I haven’t got time to ease you in slow, so here it is: ghosts are real. There’s one after my brother. I can gank it, but I gotta burn some hair or somethin’, something keepin’ it here. That’s all. Once Cas opens the doors, I’ll be in and out. We don’t have to get nasty. I’m even saving your doors from gettin’ blasted, as a favor. ”

Jerry picks and chooses what to process of that. “You have a gun pointed at me.”

Dean glances at the gun, like he’s just now realizing he still has it trained on Jerry. He lowers it. “Sorry. Had to let you know I’m serious. You gonna let me do my thing, or we gonna have a problem?”

The police will be here soon, Jerry thinks. It’s not my responsibility to stop this maniac.

“No problem,” he says. Dean nods once, satisfied, and in that moment, the lock clicks. The doors swing open heavily. Dean springs to his feet and races toward the mausoleum.

“Awesome, Cas!” he shouts, slapping a palm against Cas’ chest as he passes. Cas looks after him, a bemused expression on his face.

“I don’t know what to burn!” Dean hollers from inside.

Jerry is so far past trying to understand any of this. He nurses his scraped palms, huddling on the cold pavement and thinking of the book Andrew gave him. He wanted to finish a few chapters tonight so they could talk about them over breakfast tomorrow. He hopes he gets the chance.

Jerry is tough, but his eyes sting a little as he thinks about it.

“Dean is a good man,” Cas suddenly says, in that mechanical way of his. “Righteous. He won’t harm a human.”

Jerry stares at him in disbelief. There’s nothing he can say to that, beyond “Okay.” Cas just nods, and turns to gaze into the darkness of the mausoleum. There’s a lot of scraping and clattering echoing from the room inside, as if Dean is dismantling the place. He probably is, Jerry thinks miserably as the sound of breaking glass reaches his ears.

Dean comes storming back out of the room, assorted items piled in his arms. Jerry recognizes the doll that’s usually propped up behind the glass of the Bennett daughter’s crypt, and a locket that hangs behind the mother’s. A whole array of other personal effects that Jerry spends his nights guarding also end up on the pavement at Dean’s feet. Dean dives into his duffel bag, pulling out a can of gasoline. He douses the whole pile in the acrid-smelling stuff — Jerry’s nostrils sting and he coughs, scrabbling a little farther away. Dean pulls a lighter out of pocket and flicks it several times, cursing when it doesn’t ignite.

“Allow me,” Cas says, stepping forward. He pauses. “Close your eyes.”

Jerry throws an arm over his eyes without a second thought, just catching sight of Dean doing the same. His jacket sleeve does very little, though, to shield his eyes from the brilliant blue-white light that rips through the darkness. It feels like a bonfire, there one moment and gone the next, leaving the tips of Jerry’s hair singed. He cowers, eyes pressed shut, heaving huge breaths.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean says, voice tinged with awe. “Thanks for the assist.”

Jerry lowers his (slightly smoking) arm and peers at where the pile of belongings once lay. It’s completely gone, reduced to ash, just smoldering dust on the pavement. How on Earth—

In that moment, Dean’s mobile phone rings. He frantically plunges a hand into his jacket and rips it out, flipping it open.

“Sammy?” he asks sharply, pressing the phone to his ear. The voice on the other end mumbles something and Dean sags in relief, dragging a hand over his face. “Close call, huh? Yeah, glad it worked.”

Jerry tunes out the rest of Dean and Sam’s conversation. His eyes travel from the smoking pile of dust, to Cas (who’s standing motionless, staring at Dean), to the open mausoleum door, to his own hands, trembling in his lap. A light catches his eye off to the side and he follows it, realizing it’s his radio, abandoned on the pavement, red emergency light still blinking steadily. He gazes at it like a lifeline.

“Is that— Did you—” Dean’s voice is suddenly closer, right next to Jerry, and he quickly looks up. Dean’s looking at the radio, too. His phone is closed in his hand; he must be done talking to his brother.

“The cops coming?” Dean demands, gesturing at the radio. Jerry doesn’t want to let on, he doesn’t, but faced with this strange, complicated, definitely violent person, he can’t hold out. He nods.

“Dammit,” Dean mutters. Just then, the first siren wails in the distance, growing louder by the second.

Finally.

Dean groans and rushes over to his duffel bag, throwing the can of gasoline back in and grabbing the crowbar off the ground to toss that in, too. “Leave the keys, Cas,” he snaps at the trenchcoat man, who still has Jerry’s key ring dangling from his fingers. Cas drops the keys on the ground.

“Can you zap me to my car?” Dean hoists the duffel over his shoulder and faces Cas. “I won’t make it if I run.”

Cas steps closer to Dean, until he’s right in front of him. Their noses are just a few inches apart. Jerry, with nothing else to do but wait for his rescuers, watches them. Dean takes what looks like a shaky breath. His eyes flick down to Cas’ mouth. “You gonna stare, or you gonna help?” he asks, but it comes out small, a weak attempt at bravado.

Cas reaches out and places his hand over Dean’s left shoulder. “I’ll go with you,” he says, deep and measured, and in the next second, they’re gone. Just gone.

Jerry could swear he heard the flapping of wings. He sits there, numb, staring at the spot where they vanished.

Eventually, the yellow beams of flashlights dart across the front of the mausoleum and voices break through the fog in Jerry’s brain. A hand lands on his shoulder. “Sir, are you all right?”

He’s saved.

There’s a lot of questions from the responding officers, a lot of Jerry having to recount what he saw, picking and choosing details — which of course renders his story utterly implausible — and a lot of nobody believing him; there’s a breathalizer test — humiliating — that of course comes back clean (whether that’s better or worse for him, Jerry’s not so sure), and a round of paperwork, and finally, finally, Jerry is allowed to go.

He stumbles down the cemetery path in a daze, passing his long-cold cup of coffee, still perched on its headstone. He snags it and throws it away in the trash can at the cemetery gates. The officers said they would lock the mausoleum and the security station; Jerry was supposed to go home. He stops briefly at his station, though, to grab Andrew’s book.

He’s not quite ready to go home yet. He’s not sure what to say.

Jerry makes himself comfortable in the front seat of his car, overhead light on, and cracks open his book. He starts to read.

#suptober21 #this was fun to write #have some silliness #i enjoy imagining what regular citizens think of the winchesters #poor jerry #he's just doing his job #early seasons destiel #pre-destiel #fanfic #ficlet

19 notes · View notes

css1992 · 4 years ago

Note

could u do more high school au's pls? I was thinking maybe rich popular peter who seems untouchable and then grungy tony who just doesnt care for appearances and hes been pining after peter his whole school life

could u make it so that tony is rich and everyone knows it but he just doesn't care about his money and doesnt act rich so it's one of those things that u know but dont acknowledge. also if tony's daddy issues made an appearance id be so happy ty.

I’m so sorry for the delay, but I really do hope this scratches your itch!

***

He had that sort of beauty that almost hurt to look at. So pure and soft. Pink cheeks, small eyes that squinted when he laughed – which was often –; brown, wavy hair, so shiny and silky-looking; thin, pink lips, always stretched in a smile. He had the most beautiful smile Tony had ever seen, too. Honest and wide, happy.

He was never alone. Of course he wasn’t. He was too magnetic, there were always people drawn to his light, following him around, laughing at his jokes, making him laugh in return. Everyone seemed to want a piece of him, a scrap of his attention. And he, being the lovely human being that he was, made room for anyone who wished to bask in his light.

Jocks liked him. Peter was great at team sports, he was light on his feet and good with his hands. He wasn’t in any teams, though, claimed he didn’t have the time, but he was always picked first in P.E. group activities. Tony knew, watched him at practice way too often – from a distance, of course, as he did his stretches and sit-ups with Rhodes.

Nerds liked him, too. He was really smart, an asset to the Decathlon team, and was always willing to help anyone having trouble in class. Even the weirdos from drama club, glee club and the school band loved him – he never made fun of them, on the contrary, he was always very vocal about how talented they were and how he wished he could be a part of their clubs, too.

Girls swooned at him. He was kind and sweet, a good listener, and gorgeous. Guys weren’t immune to his charms, either. The ones Tony knew for a fact that were gay or bi didn’t even try to pretend they didn’t watch him when he walked down the halls, but even supposedly straight guys, like Steve Rogers, sneaked a peek now and then, face flushed, if he was wearing specially tight jeans.

Tony was jealous of all those people, but he learned to deal with it. He’d been, well, admiring him from a distance for years. He was used to seeing people make passes at him, ask him out. Peter was discreet, though. If he ever dated anyone, nobody ever heard anything about it. He was a mystery, Tony wasn’t even sure if he was gay, straight, bi or whatever – there were rumors that he had made out with Wade Wilson in freshman year, but neither of them confirmed or denied it. Tony hated the guy anyway.

“If you keep staring, people are gonna know you’re in love and not actually dead inside,” Rhodey spoke up right next to him, taking a huge bite of his tuna sandwich. Tony averted his gaze from Peter’s table for a minute and looked at his friend, annoyed. “It’s gonna ruin your whole aesthetic.”

“Very funny,” He rolled his eyes and looked back at Peter. There were so many people around him he could barely catch a glimpse of his smile, which was annoying.

His dad’s company, Parker Innovations, had just released a new phone a few weeks earlier, it was ridiculous how many people thought they could get one for free if they kissed his ass hard enough. At least Tony didn’t have to endure that kind of nonsense anymore. People in that school learned very early on that even though he was related to Howard Stark, he wanted nothing to do with the guy – or his company, or his money. They also learned sucking up to him did nothing but annoy him, so they kind of just forgot he existed over time and he blended right in with everyone else – a blessing in its own right.

“Rhodey is right, you’re drooling, it’s a little embarrassing,” Natasha looked at him with boredom as she nibbled on her fries. “You should just ask him out, you’ve been pining for ages.”

“I’m not pining,” he huffed, irritated, and the redhead smirked, raising a perfectly manicured brow.

“Right, yearning might be more accurate. Bruce?” She glanced at their other friend who scratched his chin, pretending to think about it.

“I think obsessing sounds more like it. Rhodey?”

“Fuck you guys,” he barked before they could keep the game going, and all three laughed at him. Someone got up from Peter’s table and he caught a glimpse of his beautiful face, their eyes made contact for half a second and Tony looked away.

“No, but seriously, Tones. Just go talk to him, he’s a great guy, I’m sure he wouldn’t be an ass about it.” Bruce adjusted his glasses and said that like it was simple. Like he would have the guts to do it if he was in Tony’s position – he wouldn’t, he’d pined for Thor, an exchange student, for a year, and never worked up the courage to ask him out. The guy went back to Norway or whatever and Bruce never even said hi to him.

“I know, of course he wouldn’t, but I don’t wanna be one of those people begging for his attention, just look at that.” He pointed at the little crowd around him, people were almost literally fighting for his attention, the poor guy could barely finish his lunch. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you’re not them,” Natasha said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Tony frowned.

“How am I different?”

“You’re a certified genius, you and him have similar interests and you look hot in a ‘I’m gonna fuck you raw in the back of my car’ kinda way. I don’t know, maybe he’s into that.” The redhead shrugged, again, saying all that like it was obvious and an unquestionable truth.

“Yeah, right, sounds just like him,” Tony scoffed.

Peter was perfect in so many ways – perfect face, perfect body, perfect grades, Tony was sure he pooped out candy or something – of course he wouldn’t go for a guy like him. He had a bad reputation, he was in detention more often than not and people in general considered him an asshole – all because he didn’t partake in their little games of social climbing or whatever. No, Peter wouldn’t go for his grungy ass. He’d probably go for all American, apple pie, boy-next-door Steve Rogers.

“No, she’s right, I’ve seen him looking at you several times.” Bruce pointed out, not for the first time, and Tony scoffed.

“Oh, yeah? When?”

“AP chemistry class. I’m his lab partner, remember?” How could Tony forget? As Mr. Erskine called out their names, Tony prayed to a God he didn’t even believe in that he’d be paired up with Peter, but no such luck. “He stares at you whenever he has a chance or an excuse. You know, when you blow things up, for example.”

“Yeah, which is why he must stare, he must be afraid for his life.” Tony hated to admit that he was way more prone to causing explosive accidents when Peter was in the room. It was fucking embarrassing.

He sighed, drinking the last of his coke. No matter what his friends said, he knew he didn’t stand a chance with Peter. He was… Untouchable. He was too good for him, Tony wasn’t even sure he’d want to taint him if he had a chance – no, scratch that, he definitely would.

He chose to watch him from afar, allowing himself a few fantasies and daydreams. He had this really stupid and lame one, where he walked up to Peter in the hall, people just parted to let him through, then he gave him his trademark, lopsided grin and asked him out. Peter smiled brightly up at him, holding his books to his chest, cheeks flushed, eyelashes fluttering as he whispered a shy “yes” and leaned up to kiss him. Yeah. That was the whole fantasy.

Peter was so untouchable to him that he didn’t even dare to dream further than that. Of course when he was alone in his room, late at night, relieving himself, a few… less pure fantasies popped up unsolicited, but he felt so guilty then, dirty even, like he was disrespecting him somehow. It was all very confusing, but he still came, shamefully, to the thought of his beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure as dream-Tony fucked him.

The bell rang and everyone hurried to get to their next period, Peter was no different, he gathered his things and stood up, looking around the cafeteria like he was looking for someone. Their eyes met again for a second, but Tony quickly looked away, grabbing his backpack in a hurry to leave.

It was Thursday, the worst day of the week for him, none of his friends were free to hang out with him until later, so he either had to head home and deal with Howard or he had to find somewhere to be for a couple of hours, until Rhodey was done with football practice so they could go to his place. That day, Tony decided to just stay by his car, smoking a cigarette and singing along to Black Sabath’s Iron Man, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. He was so distracted watching the smoke dissipate into thin air that he didn’t notice when someone approached, and jumped almost a foot in the air when they spoke.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught smoking on school grounds?” Tony almost dropped dead when he registered the angelic voice. He was already having a heart attack as it was, but the boy was so close and he had that beautiful smile in place, blushing cheeks and all. It took almost a full minute for him to calm himself down.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” The older teen answered when he finally found his voice and got his breath under control enough not to make a fool of himself. Peter smiled wider, biting his lower lip.

“Your secret is safe with me.” He fake whispered, leaning a little into the older boy’s space and he almost choked on nothing. Peter’s smell was inebriating, expensive and sweet, but not overly so – perfect. He recomposed himself quickly, though, and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t sure why Peter was talking to him and, frankly, he was too fucking nervous to think of anything cool to say. The younger teen deflated a little faced with Tony’s silence; he looked around, seeming a little lost. “You’re Tony, right?”

Fuck, the way he said his name. His name. It was fucking music to his ears, the most beautiful tune. But how did he even know his name? Sure, he was Tony Stark, so not really anonymous, but people often forgot about it.

“Yeah. And you’re Peter.” Tony didn’t play games, he didn’t even try to pretend like he didn’t know who Peter was. It would be dumb anyway, everybody knew him. The other boy nodded shyly, it looked like he wanted to say something else, but he kept biting his lips and looking around nervously. Tony frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“No. I mean, yeah, sure, it’s fine, it’s just, uhm. I have a flat tire and the wheel bolts are really tight and I couldn’t get them off, so I thought – I mean, could you, uh –“ He gestured wildly as he stuttered out his answer, looking in the general direction of his flashy, cherry red sports car. “I mean, it’s okay if you’re busy, but I –“

“Sure, I’ll help, don’t worry.” Tony threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it. He was a little more at ease now that he knew why Peter was talking to him – he just needed help – and the best thing was, Tony was really good with cars. Of course, one didn’t need to have a PhD in mechanics to change a tire, but it still made him feel really good that he would be able to help properly.

“Thanks, you’re a life saver.” The chirpy attitude was back, as well as the smile, it made Tony’s heart flutter. He nodded sharply, looking away from his face, and gestured for Peter to lead the way.

When they reached his car, Tony whistled lowly, crouching down to look at the completely flat tire, as he tried to find the source of the problem. He was surprised to notice a two-inch cut on the surface of it, and it didn’t seem accidental.

“Fuck, Peter, it looks like someone sliced your tire.” When he looked up at the younger boy, he didn’t look surprised, but nervous. It was an odd reaction. Tony wondered if Peter already knew that – maybe he knew who did it and was scared of them? It made Tony’s blood boil. Why would anyone do that to Peter?

“Wh-what? How do you know that?” He bit his lower lip nervously, scratching his arm, and Tony frowned, worried.

“Here, look.” He gestured for Peter to crouch down next to him and pointed at the cut. “This is clearly a stab mark. Judging by the size and shape of it, I’d say this was probably done with a pocketknife.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Clearly.” He face-palmed, like he felt stupid, maybe for not seeing it before, but Tony still worried.

“If you want, I could go with you to the administration. We can ask them to check the security cameras. I think that one might have caught whoever did this.” He pointed at a security camera nearby, Tony knew where all of them were in the parking lot area – he’d been caught smoking way too many times not to know.

“What? There are –? I mean, look, it’s okay, it’s probably just someone trying to play a prank, it’s no big deal, it’s fine.” He stood up quickly, shaking his head, and Tony was positive he felt threatened somehow, he was acting so weird.

“If you’re sure… But if you change your mind, I’ll go with you, ok?” Tony stood up and took off his leather jacket. The weather was nice, just a bit chilly, so he was wearing a thin, white t-shirt with short sleeves underneath. He thought he heard Peter’s breath hitch for a second, but it was probably just his imagination. “Can you hold this for me?” He held out his jacket and the boy blushed, blinking rapidly.

“S-sure.”

Tony bit his bottom lip to refrain from asking, again, if everything was fine. Peter looked so freaking nervous, he was even sweating a little at the temples. Tony was positive he knew who did that to his car, but didn’t want to tell him for some reason. Maybe he wanted to protect whoever did it, maybe it was a boyfriend, or an ex. He gritted his teeth, hands closing in fists, but didn’t say anything, just crouched down and got to work.

The first bolt came off easily, it wasn’t tight at all, so he thought maybe Peter had already loosened it when he tried earlier. The second and third ones came off just as easily, though, only the fourth one was a little trickier, but nothing the younger teen couldn’t have handled himself. Tony thought maybe he hadn’t tried too hard, maybe he was afraid the person who did that would show up or something. He was so glad he was there to help, he wondered if Peter felt safe with him around, and the thought made him feel oddly proud and protective of him.

He made quick work of changing the tires, making sure not to screw the bolts too tight, then put the sliced one in the trunk of the car. When he turned around to look at Peter, he was looking intently at him, almost hypnotized, holding his jacket close to his chest like it was a puppy.

“All done.” Tony smiled and the boy seemed to snap out of a trance.

“Oh, thank you so much, really, you’re too kind.” He smiled broadly and the older teen scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Don’t mention it.” They were silent for a few seconds after that, but Peter kept holding his jacket and didn’t make any move to give it back to him. “Uhm, could I–?” He gestured towards the jacket and again the boy jumped up in surprise.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, here.” He handed it to him and quickly crossed his empty arms over his chest. “So, uhm,… Your dad is having a gala this weekend, right? Are you gonna be there?” Ah, so Peter did know who he was, not just his first name. The older teen leaned against the car and stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging.

“Not if I can help it.” He smirked, trying to act cool, but now that he didn’t have anything to do with his hands, he was growing nervous.

“Oh,” Peter looked… disappointed? He dropped his gaze to the floor, shuffling his feet, and Tony stood up straight, frowning.

“Why?”

“Nothing, it’s just – my parents are going, so I thought I’d tag along to, you know... but it’s okay.” He kicked an imaginary rock and avoided Tony’s eyes. The older teen stared at him with wide eyes, heart beating fast – what was the end of that sentence? Peter couldn’t possibly mean–

“I don’t – what, you’d go to, like, hang out with me or something?” He felt stupid when he stumbled on the words, but Peter didn’t seem to notice, his cheeks were burning red and he was looking anywhere else but at Tony.

“I mean, you must have much better things to do, of course, I was just –” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head, finally looking up at Tony. “Sorry, just forget about it, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, wait!” He rushed to interrupt him and Peter looked back at him with huge, Bambi eyes. Tony coughed awkwardly, blushing a little. “I mean, like, uhm… If you – would you wanna go as my date? To the gala?” He blurted out, finally, because what the hell. The worst that could happen was Peter say no, and he could deal with it. He would survive, for sure. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Really. It wouldn’t.

But he didn’t say no, he smiled broadly, eyes twinkling in excitement.

“I’d love to!” He answered quickly, and Tony’s heart fluttered, Peter looked genuinely happy. “Could you – uhm, text me what color of tie you’ll be wearing? If you want! I understand if you think it’s lame, but I thought–”

“No, it’s fine.” His heart was beating so loud, Peter Fucking Parker wanted to coordinate ties with him, it was fucking corny and cliché and he loved it. “Uhm, here, give me your number.” He fished his phone from his back pocket and gave it to the younger teen.

“Cool.” Peter typed in his number and as soon as he gave his phone back, Tony sent him a smiley face so he would have his number, too. “Cool, cool, cool...” He rocked on the balls of his feet and looked around, like he was looking for something else to say.

“So… Do you have to be home soon or…?” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets again, wondering if maybe he was pushing his luck, but Peter shook his head quickly.

“Not really, no, my parents don’t really mind what time I get home as long as I let them know. You?”

“They don’t really care.” He shrugged, taking one step closer to Peter. “So… are you hungry, by any chance?”

“I’m starving.” He nodded, looking up at Tony in anticipation. It drove the butterflies in his stomach crazy.

“I know a place where they serve great burgers. We could go in my car and I could drop you off here on our way back, I’m just a little worried someone is gonna try to fuck up your car again. I mean, what if they’re targeting you or something?” Just the mention of what happened earlier made Peter nervous. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket and shook his head.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.” He didn’t look worried, though, at least not anymore.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, trust me, I am.” Tony found the sudden change odd, but thought maybe he was just trying to play it cool, so he let it go.

“Okay, then, c’mon, my car is right there,” Tony gestured to his car and Peter smiled, taking his hands off his pockets. When he did, though, something slipped out and fell to the ground with a metallic noise. Tony quickly crouched down to get it for him, when he noticed what it was. “Wh – is that…?” He frowned, examining the pocketknife as if it was alien material. He was confused at first, because Peter didn’t seem like the kind of guy to carry one around, but then it dawned on him. When he looked at the younger teen, his face was so red it looked like he was about to explode.

“Uhm… If I told you I’ve never seen this before in my life would you believe it?” He chuckled nervously, scratching his arm, as Tony stood up. The older teen raised a brow at him.”Sorry, I just – I wanted an excuse to talk to you.” He said quietly, dropping his gaze.

“You know, you could have gone with the weather or whatever.” Tony answered, amused, and it made the younger boy look up at him.

“You’re just very intimidating,” He looked at him with huge, scared eyes, and Tony cocked his head to the side.

“Me?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah.” Peter answered pointedly, and Tony smirked, offering him his knife back.

“You do realize you just sliced your own tire so you’d have an excuse to talk to me, right? And I’m intimidating?” He joked, but Peter didn’t seem to find it funny. He winced and covered his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed.

“You must think I’m such a freak,” He groaned, voice muffled by his palms.

“Hey, hey, yes, I do think you’re a freak.” He grabbed Peter’s thin wrists and marveled at how perfectly they fit in his hands. He definitely saved that thought for later. “But you’re a really cute one.” He grinned and Peter chuckled, a delicate flush rising onto his cheeks.

“I feel stupid.” He admitted, worrying his bottom lip, but Tony shook his head, working up the nerve to cup Peter’s face in his hand.

“I feel flattered,” He said, honestly, and Peter’s breath hitched. He stared up at Tony, eyelashes fluttering, moist, pink lips slightly open. The older teen leaned down slowly and when the Peter closed his eyes, their lips touched. Just like in his fantasies, Peter tasted sweet, his lips were soft and his arms circled Tony’s neck in a warm embrace. When they parted, Tony smiled down at him, stroking his blushing cheek. “Just promise that if this doesn’t work out you won’t, like, key my car or something.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned, but they both laughed out loud, as they walked hand in hand across the parking lot.

#starker #high school au

240 notes · View notes

hyuniepot · 4 years ago

Text

the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I’ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

66 notes · View notes