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stillebesat · 4 years ago

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Christmas Eve (4/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, Frogmin!Virgil, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk, Human-ish Creatures kept as Pets Taglist in Reblog

To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Roman regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

The Dameon he knew could spin the truth like a top. His stories sounding so believable that even now, years later, Roman still had very little idea what he actually knew about his Ex...besides the fact that he was a slimy no good lying viper. If he wanted to get a Frogmin for his kid, then Roman was sure Dameon could point to any cage on the shelf, and despite Roman’s years of experience, convince him that whatever cage he picked would be perfectly adequate to hold the Frogmin.

Oh Crofters, would the Frogmin they picked out be okay going home with them?! He couldn’t remember Dameon being cruel to animals, but the guy had never shown an interest in them either. Sure, Pattey seemed sweet enough but if Dameon was his actual dad then what if it was all just an act. What if--

Dameon huffed, running his fingers through his curly hair, messing it up in a way that Roman had never seen him do when they’d been together. He straightened, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes as he slipped a hand in his pocket, moving a couple of steps down the aisle to give his kid some space to interact with the Frogmins without them hovering.

Reluctantly Roman followed, his attention split between ensuring Pattey wouldn’t reach into the cage and terrorize the Frogmins...and watching his Ex’s every move.

“You and I both know that I could just point to a random cage and convince you I’d bought it elsewhere, but I hope that the picture I took will be more than enough proof that I have the proper setup?” He asked, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it before holding it out to him.

Well...pictures could be faked….but considering Dameon had obviously not expected to see him here...would he have gone so far as to fake a photo? It was possible. He’d done it before to fake several incidents at college parties they’d gone to...but a cage for a new pet for his son? Who would think to fake that?

Roman exhaled. No. He’d think himself in circles until well past midnight if he tried to read too far inbetween the lines. It was Christmas Eve. Dameon wanted a Frogmin for his son and Pattey seemed genuinely excited to have one. It had to be the truth. He had to believe that.

For now.

“If you’ve bought some dinky little hamster cage, Dae, I’m not letting you leave here with any creature until you have a proper setup.” He said, taking the phone from him.

Dameon’s eyes flashed, his mouth quirking up in a half smile as he glanced over to his son who’d somehow managed to cox basically every Frogmin in the cage closer to him.

Impressive for a child. It must be those soft honey eyes.

“I did do some research beforehand.”

“You know can’t trust everything on Google right?” Roman asked as he zoomed in on the image of the kid, Pattey, standing next to a cage as tall as he was. He had to admit. It was a nice setup. Not the most expensive home for a Frogmin he’d seen, but it was a good middling sort of cage. Multilevel, plenty of foliage, there was even a mister visible from the side to keep the place humid.

“I did ask multiple store employees as well...but I got differing answers.”

Typical. Ask more than one person and you’d get more than one answer. Still. It looked like Dae had managed to get the proper stuff. “What sort of pond do you have within? A bowl?” People always tried to use cheap tupperware to make a pond for their Frogmins, but it never worked out well in the long run.

Dameon scoffed, taking his phone back, fidgeting with it as he turned his head away to stare at a nearby cage of little Nagas. “As if. It’s a filtered thing. Not a waterfall, I couldn’t risk the splashing, but it has running water. Fresh. Takes up half of the floor of the cage, the rest is moss and dirt.”

Huh. Despite his reluctance to give his Ex any credit...he really hadn’t done half bad. Roman crossed his arms. “Hideout?”

Dameon shrugged. “There’s a rock cave on the ground, a wooden one higher up, and Pattey had me grab a moss hammock four stores ago. Just in case.”

Four? “....And just how many stores have you been to today?” On Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t he be like...going to some big fancy party or something? Or…at least getting ready for Santa’s arrival?

Dameon grimaced, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Fifteen.” He admitted, keeping his attention firmly on the cage in front of him.

Roman whistled. Talk about dedication. “Ouch.”

“Mmm.” His fingers twitched as he glanced to his son, wearing that half smile of his. “No one else in a hundred and fifty miles has them.”

Roman’s eyebrows shot up. A hundred and FIFTY miles? Dude. Good news. It meant there was a low chance of him ever having to encounter his Ex again after tonight if he drove this far. But Dude. He drove this far? For his son? The Dameon he knew wouldn’t have gone through half as much effort. He would have convinced someone else to do all the work for him instead and then take the credit.

“Talk about a Hail Mary then coming all the way out here without calling first.” Especially since his store was closing like...right now. “The Mythical Mins have been quite popular this year. You’re lucky my store had the foresight to quadruple our orders.”

“I did try calling.” Dameon said, holding out a hand to the Nagamins, a flash of wistfulness crossing his face as he watched the minis leisurely slither about within. “After the first two failures...I called the next--oh, six?” He grimaced. “Those who actually answered assured me that they had them in stock--only for us to find that they’d sold out by the time we showed up. I stopped calling after that point. Just looked up the next pet store and drove.”

Wow. That was--- “I didn’t think you’d ever be so persistent. Especially for some kid.” Wait. Roman blanched. That came out so wrong--

Dameon’s eyes flashed with all too familiar anger as he whirled to him, his hands clenching. “He’s not some kid, Roman, he’s my son. And as cliche as it is...I would move heaven and earth to make him happy.”

Roman jerked his hands up. “I didn’t mean--” Yeesh. And he was hoping to avoid triggering Dameon’s temper. He just hadn’t expected his Ex to be...that protective. Of course, he just hadn’t ever seemed the type to...settle down either. “That came out wrong.” His words were usually wrong in some fashion when Dameon was present. “Honestly, I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t.”

Dameon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, the anger unexpectedly vanishing as quickly as it had sparked. “The eyes right?” He raised a hand to his own golden ones.

“Well...yah. They’re practically the same.” Unfortunately. Though on the kid it was cute instead of terrifying.

He dropped his hand. “Yah...well you saw it quicker than I did.” He looked back to Pattey.

Roman blinked. “Wait. You--”

Dameon huffed, shaking his head. “It took me...a bit...to believe he was mine.” He said in a low voice.

Roman scoffed “You saw his eyes and you didn’t--weren’t you expecting him?! Weren’t you there for his birth?” Hadn’t Dameon just said he would move heaven and earth for the kid? He would have thought--

His Ex ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further before he gestured to himself. “Do I look like--No. I--I’d--I’m---” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how I was, Ro--I didn’t--”

Was. Roman raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard Dameon stutter this much since...well, their first meeting. “And you were always so eloquent.” Flowery words, hidden meanings, barbed compliments. He’d lost more sleep to figuring out just what Dameon had actually said to him and what potential meanings his words held during college than he ever had over studying for finals.

Dameon rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Those were fighting words, Roman knew.

Yet his Ex didn’t rise to the bait. He hunched his shoulders, visibly taking a deep breath before relaxing his hands. “I’m not like that anymore. I’ve chan--” He cut off grimacing.

“....You’ve changed.” He’d heard that particular phrase a dozen times in college. Yet this time...it seemed just a tad more...believable.

Dameon exhaled, giving a slight shake of his head before meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to be a better person...and even if I wasn’t,” he gestured to his son, “I would much rather walk out of here with a Frogmin than without one for his sake.”

Wouldn’t any parent? At least the ones who wanted to prevent a meltdown. Roman tilted his head to the boy. “He is a cute kid.” Despite who his Father was.

“He is.” Daemon said, that fond half smile appearing on his lips again without any sign of the malice Roman was familiar with. “Some days...I wonder how I got so lucky.”

Yah...karma had obviously gotten mixed signals there.

Mentally Roman kicked himself. And that was how he’d end up getting the three Christmas ghosts visiting him tonight. Sure. He was still obviously bitter about his Ex. But he knew people could change. Just because he couldn’t picture Dameon being a good Dad, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Not when the apparent proof was standing right before him. “Well...it seems like Fatherhood has done you some good.”

Red tinged Janus’s cheeks as he raised a single eyebrow. “Is it really that hard to believe? That I could be a good dad?”

Had he ever looked back on their college years? The list of why he wouldn’t be a good dad could easily fill three books.

But. Roman tilted his hand back and forth. “I only ever knew Liar Dae.” He said simply.

There was still a chance he was still talking to him right now, though from what he’d seen so far he’d like to believe otherwise.

Dameon grimaced. “Right.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Right. I--”

“DADDY!! PRINCEY!!!” Pattey squealed as he rushed towards them, his hands held up high to show them a tiny figure with purple and black spots hanging on to his fingers for dear life. “I GOT MY FROGMIN!”

Roman blinked, mouth dropping open as he recognized the rebelliously reclusive Frogmin who had sworn over a year ago that he would never go home with any human.

“Virgil?” He whispered taking a half step forward as Dameon dropped to his knees in time to catch his son before he could run face first into their legs.

“He picked me, Daddy!!” He picked me!” Pattey cried, practically vibrating with excitement as Dae quickly brought his hands up to surround his son’s, keeping the little emo Frogmin from being jostled further.

“That’s great, Pat!” His Ex said as his cool golden eyes gave the Frogmin a once over, his fingers twitching on his son’s hands.

Roman made a soft sound in the back of his throat as the Frogmin hissed, ducking down out of sight.

Yah. That was Virgil alright. The hiss was his trademark sound after he’d learned it from Roman’s own Min, Logan. But why would he come out of his dark little corner to--how had Pattey even convinced him?! Roman himself had tried every trick in the book to warm the dark and stormy emo of a Frogmin up to the idea of being owned by a human.

Nothing had worked.

Though Roman couldn’t remember ever offering spiders as a bribe before. Was that honestly all that it would have taken? A different food source?

“Virgil?” He asked again, biting his lip as his voice elicited another hiss from the Min and the unwelcome attention of his Ex.

Dameon looked up, eyes flashing. “Is there a problem?” He asked in such a Karen tone that Roman automatically bristled at it.

“Ye--No? NO!” He said slashing his hand across his chest in denial.

Dameon huffed, his hands remaining steady on Pattey’s as he half turned to him, giving him the look. “Roman.”

Roman glowered at his name, baring his teeth in what could barely be called a smile. “I said, NO, Dameon.” He said working to keep his tone even and obviously failing by how his eyes sharpened. “It’s just that Virgil’s never wanted to go home with anyone before. I’m--” Worried. Surprised. Concerned. Curious. The list could go on forever. He knew Virge after all. And there had been plenty of kids just like Pattey -besides the golden eyes- who’d wanted Frogmins before and Vee had never shown himself to them.

A variety of emotions flashed across Dameon’s face too fast for him to process as his Ex tilted his head, staring at him in such a way that Roman was sure he was analyzing every word he used and movement he’d made. “Worried he won’t be a good fit?” He asked, his tone more mild than Roman had been expecting as he dropped his hands from his son’s, though he could hear a hint of bitterness to it.

He’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. But--- Roman exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he held out his other hand, tilting it back and forth. “Honestly...Virgil probably likes me about as much as I like you.” He said, watching as Dameon winced.

“And that means...?”

What else did Dae expect him to say? Their relationship had been toxic. Before ten minutes ago, Roman would have said that all he felt for Dameon was utmost hatred.

Now though?

It was...it was all so muddled. He was seeing a side of Dae that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know what to think. “Soo--”

“It means we’ll be besties!!” Patton cried, honey eyes positively lighting up as he bounced in place, eliciting another hiss from the Frogmin. “I’ll be the Prince and Virgil will be the Dragon Witch and together we’ll defeat the evil Aaraog and we’ll all live happily ever after! Right Prince Roman?” Pattey beamed at him, holding his hands out, fingers uncurling so that he could see Virgil.

The Frogmin growled, dark hair falling in front of his mismatched eyes before he adjusted his legs, jumping to the boy’s shoulder.

Pattey let out a giggle, scrunching up his shoulders. “Vee, that tickles!!”

Roman let out a breath as Virgil ducked down into the collar of the boy’s jacket. A Happy ending huh? “...Right….That.”

Daemon’s own smile was rather brittle as he stood, ruffling his son’s hair. “Soo…” He said echoing Roman’s tone of voice as he looked up, eyes for once not looking cold and calculating, but...resigned? “It looks like Virgil here wants to come home with my son.” He said, gesturing to the Frogmin peering out from Pattey’s jacket. “Is there paperwork or something I need to fill out for him or--?”

Right. No need to drag out this conversation any longer now the kid had chosen his new pet. “Yes. You’ll need to fill out forms and Virgil--” He cut off as the Frogmin hissed giving him the middle finger. He tsked. Now that wasn’t appropriate for a child to see. “Virgil.”

The Frogmin shook his head, spots slightly glowing as he glowered at him. “No Box, Princey.” He said, with a slight echo to his voice.

Princey? Roman pursed his lips together. Of course the Emo Nightmare chose to finally speak to him now that he was leaving the store. Typical. A true Christmas Miracle. Logan would be so proud to hear that the little EmoFrogmare had finally broken his silence to Roman.

Pattey reached up, cupping his hand protectively around the Frogmin as he gave Roman the saddest puppy dog look he’d seen this holiday season with the watery eyes, trembling lip and everything. “Vee can stay with me right? I’ll keep him warm.”

Yes, but-- “You know that’s not our policy, Vir--” He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose as Virgil let out an even longer hiss sounding like an agitated rattlesnake. “Fine. Fine. But if you fall and break your leg it’s not my fault.”

Dameon coughed into his hand, doing a poor job of hiding his smile as Virgil flashed him a thumbs up, curling up against Pattey’s neck as the boy gasped, eyes going wide.

“No! No breaking! He’ll stay Safe!! Virgil is MY PROTECTOR!! He’s eating the spiders!” He said, shaking his head hard enough that the Frogmin would have fallen if the kid’s hand hadn’t been right there for him to cling to with his little sticky fingers. “Promise!”

And this was the boy EmoFrogmare wanted to go home with? Roman didn’t understand at all. He raised an eyebrow as Vee settled once more on Pattey’s shoulder. “That’s good. Just be careful alright?”

Virgil hissed in response, baring his teeth at them.

“He really doesn’t like you does he?” Daemon commented in a low voice.

Roman rolled his eyes, gesturing for his Ex to follow him to the checkout counter so he could grab the proper forms. “Nope.” He said, popping the P. It was kinda irritating too. He could charm all the other Mins in the store and get them more comfortable and out of their shells before going to their new homes, but Virgil had never warmed up to him.

Dameon gave him a crooked smile. “I’m sorry.”

Roman stiffened at the unexpected third apology falling easily from the snake’s lips. How could he say it now for something that wasn’t even his fault when he couldn’t even apologize for--for...everything that had happened between them back in college?

He shook his head, waving it away. “Don’t be--well you can be once you pay for him.” He said, jabbing a finger in his Ex’s direction before pulling out the forms and a pen. “Then his bad behavior is on you, not me.”

To Be Continued. Part 5

#Christmas Eve #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Roman #Janus #Patton #Virgil #Creativity #Deceit #Morality #Anxiety #Dad!Janus #Kid!Patton #Frogmin!Virgil #MythicalMin!AU #Frogmin!AU #past toxic relationship talk tw #manipulation talk tw #lying talk tw

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pilliepollie · 4 years ago

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Day6 react to you "calling” another guy

Thanks so much for liking it! I actually had a lot of fun coming up with these scenarios! (LINK for those of you who haven’t read it)

Jae

It was late into the evening and you and Jae are finishing up cleaning after dinner. Being the cheeky devil you are you decided to pull a little prank. Walking over to the couch you sat down and pulled out your phone, “Hey what’s up JUSTIN! You haven’t called me in a while and I just wanna know how you been?... Good good, oh me? I just ate dinner, yeah not much happening right now.” Listening from the other side of the kitchen washing dishes, Jae begins to get confused since name he hasn’t heard ever, Justin? Who’s Justin?! Y/n’s never talked about him before. That Justin guy better not get near Y/n. “A date? At the movies? Tomorrow at 7-”, interrupting your lil act your boyfriend comes storming in, “HEY WAIT A MINUTE NOW WHO DOES THIS CHUMP THINK HE IS?!” You laugh hysterically, wheezing while trying to capture this moment of him in his angry stance, “Babe it was just a prank 😂🤳.” You turn around to show him your phone, there was nothing on the screen except a cute photo of you two. Speechless, he still even had his bright yellow dish gloves on, holding a sponge in one hand and a spoon on the other, “Oh you are so done. C’MERE YOU😤 ” The night ended with Jae chasing you around the house trying to catch you with his wet soapy gloves still on, “COME ON BABE YOU AT LEAST OWE ME A HUG AFTER ALL THAT!”

Sungjin

My goodness, this man would just stop in his tracks as he listens to your so called conversation with “Kyle”🤭. Good thing your back was facing him, otherwise your wide grin would’ve ruined the whole thing. You planned on doing this prank as soon as he gets home from work. Hearing the keys entering the lock and the knob turning, you proceed with the prank. “Haha yeah I remember that... Me? KYLE you’re asking me if I’m free tomorrow?” Being the protective boyfriend he is, Sungjin starts to get a little mad, “Alright I’ve had enough of this.” he murmured. Walking over to you, Sungjin lightly taps your shoulder and motions his hand to let you give him your phone to give “Kyle” a piece of his mind, “Hey Kyle, this is Sungjin, I’m not sure if you know me or are aware of our relationship but I’m Y/n’s BOYFRIEND, I repeat, B. F. BOYFRIEND. So run along now and go ask out someone else because she/he’s taken buddy.” Hearing you giggle from his passive aggressive response to “Kyle”, he turns to you with a confused face, “What? I can’t just let some random guy take my girl/boy can I?”, “Babe look at the screen.” Looking over to your phone, he sees the notes app being opened up with the words, “Who’s Kyle? Sounds like a made up guy to me ;)” Congrats, your boyfriend is now jaw dropped, and eyes widened 😲. “You little-”

Young K

The only member to catch onto your little joke in my opinion. But before finding out, he’d just stare at you like “ಠ_ಠ... So you just gonna let this happen huh?” In between your guys’ dinner, you decided to pull the prank, needless to say, saying another guy’s name was all it took for Younghyun to completely stop eating. With a mouth full of spaghetti he continues to listen, *What’s he saying? Is he asking you out?!* he mouthed. You shook your head, *Not telling*, I guess that’s what made him think that it could possibly be a prank, which it was. Being the annoying Brian he is and wanting to test his so called “theory”, he did what any boyfriend would do, or any annoying, crazy, and out of their mind kind of boyfriend would do. Thank god it wasn’t a real call because it would have been a major rollercoaster trying to explain this man’s actions. “OHH Y/N! GOD THAT FEELS SO GOOD!”, “YOUNGHYUN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”, “YEAH JUST LIKE THAT BABY MMM RIGHT THERE YEAH THAT’S THE SPOT!” At this point you’d have to stop, god you could see the smug written all over his face, “You think you can prank me like that? I don’t think so babe 😘.” Needless to say, never make him suspicious during any REAL phone calls otherwise you’ll be in royally big trouble 😅

Wonpil

I actually think Wonpil wouldn’t do anything, he’d just sit there not knowing what to do and kinda just wallow in sorrow around the house all day until you’d have to tell him that if was just a prank. “Babe what’s wrong? You’ve been walking around the house and looking like someone sucked the energy outta you.”, “Well I don’t know.. just leave me alone and go over to TYLER’S place because he asked you to come over and it SEEMS like he’s a funnier guy than me. >:( ” Lowkey about to be on the verge of tears until you started laughing over his jealous and bratty state, you walk over to him and squish his cheeks, making his lips pucker out in a cute way. “It was just a prank Wonpil, a skit, a one man show. I just wanted to see how you would react if it actually were to happen.” This poor boy would just stay quiet for a few seconds, trying to put 2 and 2 together 😂, “So Tyler isn’t a real person 🥺️?” “No babe he is not.” You and I and the whole myday community both know that Wonpil is the crybaby in the group so you best believe the waterworks will start flowing. “WAAAAAGHHHHHH”, making ugly sobbing noises with a running nose starting to form. “OH BABY NO I’M SORRY I WON’T DO THAT AGAIN I PROMISE!” Looks like you’re going to him a coddle him up with lots of kisses and I love yous because the poor man just went through a whole set of emotions within those few hours. Lesson learned, this man’s level of emotions will be the downfall of him someday.

Dowoon

Chilling on the couch, Dowoon has not given you any attention what so ever this whole evening, instead he focused all his attention on his Nintendo switch. “Woonieee~ can we cuddle 🥺️?” Only to hear his response a few seconds later, “Sorry Y/n I gotta finish these last levels, I’m so close to getting to gold tier.” A few minutes later~ You come back to the couch with your phone in hand and up to your ear, “Yeah I could eat... Chipotle sounds great... see you in 10..JOSH.” Pretty sure it took him a few minutes to comprehend what just happened, when he did his fingers slipped leading to the game console to fall on his face. He gets up and goes over to you, mouthing the words *Y/n what are you doing 😕.* Ignoring him, you proceed with your act, “Oh are you on your way right now?” purposely smiling. Dowoon snaps and grabs your phone, lifting his arm way up into the air so you wouldn’t be able to reach it. “HEY DOWOON GIVE IT B-”, “I’LL CUDDLE WITH YOU FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT AND GIVE YOU FULL ATTENTION JUST PLEASE DON’T GO SEE A RANDOM DUDE OK!”, “Oh ok 😏”, “Wait what.” Confused over your quick response, he brings his arm back down and looks down at the screen, “Google search: Ways to get your boyfriend’s attention... Number 1- Pretend you’re calling another man.” Dowoon looks up at you like he’s just seen a dead man, “Y/n I lost all my progress because of you.” Giggling, “Yes I know,” you say, skipping happily to the bedroom, “Now quit standing around it’s time for cuddles 😊.” Laughing in disbelief over your whole act, “You’re lucky I love you.”, “Yes yes I love you too now get your cute ass over here.”

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soyouthinkucanwrite · 4 years ago

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Chapter 4 – A new day

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ��honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Chapter 4 - A new day

This is 1.8k words (approximately)

A while after overthinking it you closed your eyes and next thing you knew you were opening them at the sound of your alarm clock. Shit. ‘Should’ve sleept more’ was your first thought but then you remembered why you didn’t. You checked your phone. There was one text from “Tom Holland”, you just loved the quotation markes there, they reminded you of the mess it was your first interaction.

Did he really just Google-translated ‘beautiful’? And are you really swooning over that?

You got up from bed smiling like an idiot and went to get ready for the day. You were getting breakfast with David at the hotel so you had to hurry cause the Breakfast show begins at 7. It was supposed to be a bright sunny (and hot) summer day, which you knew was rare in London. But it was still a work commitment, so you decided on pants and maybe you could change before going to wherever you were going with Tom. Tom! Should you reply to him?

Ok. Play it cool. Now, focus on why you’re here in the first place, will you? You wore capri pants, a t-shirt tucked in with a belt and some stylish shoes. It looked cool, you were comfortable and that’s the best we can expect in a situation like this. No one’s expecting you to show up ready for a red carpet or anything like that anyway. You texted David and he was already downstairs getting some food, so you just went to meet him.

“Good morning” You greeted David at the buffet.

“Someone’s in a good mood. Good morning” He was in a good mood too, probably cause you’ll be going home today. Your good mood had nothing to do with that. If you’re honest, that was a reason for ruining your spirit.

“Uh-hum” You agreed.

“So, I was looking and I think I can change our tickets. You know, for earlier.” He told you as you were sitting in a table at the corner and you couldn’t help but look at him like he was saying something absurd. “Ok, you don’t look so happy about it.”

“No, I was just hoping to see the city today. You know, enjoy it a little bit before going back.” As you said that your phone lit up on the table, it was a text from Tom.

“The city. Right” David smirked at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed at him and smiled when you saw the texts.

“Is that ok?” You heard David talking.

“Hum? Sorry?” You were smiling.

“Gosh I can’t with you. I said I might just change my own ticket, would that be ok with you?”

“Oh yeah! Go ahead. I’ll be fine. I have all my flight info.” He looked at you suspiciously.

“Just…please be in New York next week? The meeting is on Friday afternoon”

“What?” You laughed. “Of course I’ll be there. Why wouldn’t I?” He just shook his head and laughed at you.

You finished your breakfast and went back to the room to brush your teeth and get your stuff. 15 minutes later, you were in a cab with David going to the Radio One studios. On the way, you snapped a pic to send him, you know, keep the conversation going.

You rolled your eyes at him but still couldn’t help but agree.

The breakfast show was from 7 to 10 am, but your interview was not until 8 am. So you and David just hang out in the studio in the meantime. “The first hour is mainly for music”, the girl that welcomed you guys explained. Soon after, Greg James walked out to the little reception and greeted you and David. “Hey guys! Thank you for coming! I’m Greg, nice to meet you.” He offered.

“Hi! Thank you for having us! I’m (y/n), this is David.” You replied and gave him a quick hug.

“Hey! How’s it going?” David said and gave him a man’s hug/handshake. Boys.

“So this is basically standard, since it’s a live interview, I like to ask if there’s any topic you want to avoid or something you’d like to talk specially about?” He asked you.

“Oh…I don’t know. No? Just…let’s talk about how great the show is so people want to watch it and we can keep making more” You laughed.

“And it IS great! I’ve seen it, really loved. Congrats!”

“That’s kind of you. Thank you!”

“No problem, so…I guess I’ll just direct it towards the interviews you did, you can tell me some funny stories? Awkward ones preferably.”

“You got it! I’ll give you my worst embarrassment stories, you know, for the good of entertainment” You laughed.

A little while later you were sitting in the studio with Greg on the other side of the table. You told him about the show and some embarrassing stories as well.

“So, what are the plans now? Will we be seeing more seasons of the show? Maybe in other cities, London perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t say”

“Oh come on! Is Netflix the next Marvel on terms of keeping secrets?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know. I literally can’t say because I don’t know what the future looks like for us. It’s been so great to go out and talk about the show, and see how much people liked it but I’m kind of just enjoying while I can.”

“No! Don’t say that! They won’t let you get away like that!”

“I hope not! If they want us, I’m all in! I’d love to make 10 more seasons and in other cities, even! Can you imagine?"

“Now that’s more like it! Let’s make a deal, if Netflix don’t renew with you, BBC will take it!”

“Ok! Sure! Are you in charge of it?”

“No really, but that’s just a technicality” He laughed. “Alright, so we’ll play some music and when we come back we’re going to hear some unpopular opinions! Are you ready for it Ana?”

“Sure, yeah! I love the theme song, let’s do it!”

“Do you really? You listen to the show?”

“Yes! I really do, I’m a fan since when I was learning English! I genuinely love Radio 1”

“No way! Just for that, I’ll let you choose the next song"

When the song died over it was time for the game.

“Hey! If you need a job, you can just come work here with us as international music sommelier, what you think about it?”

“Oh don’t even joke. That’s my dream job, honestly!”

“It’s settled them” The interview was going really well, and it was almost ending. “Alright, so our time is almost over. Shall we hear some unpopular opinions and send you all to the weekend with a pinch of wrath?”

“Yes please! Let’s hear them” The theme song started to play and you sang along. “Come and give us your unpopular opinion, something up to know you’ve been scared to say”

“That was great! And in the first try! You really are a listener!”

“Told you!”

“Ok so, first on the line we have Maya. Hello Maya? What’s your unpopular opinion?”

“Calling people bestie is cringe” The girl on the line said.

“Uh agreed” You said.

“You agree with her?” Greg asked you.

“Yeah. If it’s not ironically, it’s very cringe. Like calling your husband hubby”

“To be fair, most pet names are cringe” Greg offered.

“True, very true. Hey, love is cheesy. Nothing wrong with that. People in love are just not cool, have you ever met a couple that was genuinely cool?”

“No, I have not. Well, I mean…the Beckhams are cool.”

“Uh good one. I stand corrected. But can you imagine Victoria calling Dave ‘hubby’ or the other spice girls ‘bestie’?”

“Definitely not.” You guys laughed together, you were just being silly. “Good one Maya! Alright, next call is Kyle. Hello Kyle?”

“Hi! Flat watered down soda tastes good.”

“What?” You yelped. “Are you ok, Kyle?”

“And that’s why we call this segment ‘unpopular opinions’” Greg laughed. “Do you want to defend yourself there Kyle?”

“Not really, I just prefer it like that.” Kyle said and you and Greg laughed.

“You know what Kyle? You keep doing you. You might want to try some juice or iced tea, though. But you do you man.” You joked and Greg cracked up.

“That was great, I love it!” Greg said. “That will be all for today, don’t forget to check (y/n)'s new show this weekend and spam Netflix about how much we need more seasons!! And bring (y/n) to London Netflix!”

“Oh my god I loved it! Thank you so much for having me, I had the best time!” You thanked him. Music started to play and you took off your headphones. “Thank you, really. I was great!” You said directly to Greg.

“Oh don’t thank me! I really hope we’ll see you more! Come back always to promote the next seasons and projects!” He offered.

You got out of the studio and greeted David. “That was so much fun!” You told him.

“You’re killing it there ! Mission accomplished, finally! Are you coming back to the hotel or are you meeting with ‘the city’ from here?” He asked you using air quotes for ‘the city’ and smirking.

“I’m coming back to the hotel, thank you very much.” You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was just teasing you.

Chapter 5 it's fluffly london date and it was so much fun writing it, can't wait for you to read!

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland series #tom holland social media au #tom holland fanfiction

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hockeylvr59 · 5 years ago

Text

Wanting Whispers || Paul Bissonnette

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Needless to say I have been in a Biz mood and well certain someones have been talking innocent kink on my dash recently and that led to this. It’s a lot. Gif possibly by @plasticfilth but not sure because I found it on google? Also, this is probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written so...

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut

Word Count: 8,235

_________

It had happened so slowly but at the same time all at once. Months of chirps and insinuations ending with you flat on your back screaming his name.

You’d heard rumors that Paul Bissonnette lived in your building when you first moved in, but it had been over a month and you hadn’t actually seen him. That all changed on a Friday night when you heard music blaring in the apartment above you. Yes it was a Friday, but you had a paper for graduate school due Sunday night and you were nowhere near finished. This was possibly the absolute worst weekend for your neighbor to decide to have a party. With the help of noise-canceling headphones, you were able to block it out enough to spend a few more hours working but eventually, your body started to fade and as you gave up deciding sleep was in order it was clear that the party was raging just as much as before if not more. Though you didn’t want to be that person, you really needed some sleep so after slipping on a sweatshirt over your pajamas you threw on a pair of sandals and grabbed your apartment keys, making your way over to the elevator and up one floor.

Having reached the upper level of apartments, it was abundantly clear which one contained the party as the volume of the music increased. Knocking on the door you ran your fingers through your hair and waited for a response. By the time it was tugged open you were ready to give up but as the door gave way your eyes met the broad figure of the man you’d heard about. His eyebrows merely raised at your presence and you bit back your nerves as you looked up at him.

“Listen...I’m your downstairs neighbor and I’d really like to be able to get some sleep tonight so can you please turn the music down a little bit. I have a 30-page paper due on Sunday and I really need sleep if I have any hopes of getting it done.” Your ramble was met with a critical gaze but eventually the man in front of you nodded.

“We’ll turn it down.” He promised and after murmuring your thanks you disappeared back down the hall. By the time you reached your apartment again, the music was at a more manageable level, one that could be blocked out with some white noise finally allowing you to pass out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

~~~

Though you hadn’t run into Biz prior to the party, since then it seemed like you were bumping into him in the lobby every other day. The first time you’d thanked him again for turning the music down and he’d asked how your paper had gone. The second you’d bumped into him as he was bringing a woman home when you’d caught the elevator just before it closed. It wasn’t until you were inside that you realized your neighbor had his tongue down a woman’s throat and immediately your cheeks flushed scarlet. You weren’t sure he’d even noticed you but as you stepped out of the elevator you heard him speaking your name telling you to have a good night.

Eventually your random meetings became not so random. One afternoon Biz was showing up at your door to request you keep an eye on his place for him and bring his mail in while he was out of town. When he returned, he appeared at your door once more, this time a bottle of Pink Whitney in hand in thanks. Eventually payment for his favors progressed to dinners in his apartment and he’d become less of a stranger and more of a friend. There was an obvious age difference between the two of you and his latest hookup had pretty much become his girlfriend but you didn’t have many people in Arizona and while his cooking skills were subpar, he certainly knew how to make you laugh and could distract you from the pressures of school.

Nearly a month of this level of friendship continued before Biz started in on the less innocuous subjects. Though it was clear that he knew what he was doing, the way he slipped them into conversation was subtle. One night it was inquiring if you had a hot date for Valentine's Day, the next it was a casual mention of how tense you seemed. Each time he alluded to your personal life a flush covered your cheeks and you quickly changed the subject throwing the conversation back at him. And each time he complied, changing the subject but his expression furrowed as he did so.

Eventually things ended between him and the woman he’d been seeing and though it didn’t really change things, it did mean that you found yourself at Paul’s apartment more or that he was in yours. With more time in closer contact, there were more occurrences of innocent touches and grazes as you moved around your kitchen cooking dinner or as he tugged you down onto the couch to watch a hockey game.

It had been nearly six months since you’d met Paul and he’d invited you up to his place to celebrate finishing the semester of school. An incredible dinner had been picked up and though he was cutting back on his drinking, he’d opened a bottle of wine for the two of you to toast with. Dinner and wine had ended with the two of you settled into his oversized couch as he flipped through tv channels. Instead of settling on one, suddenly he’d turned the tv off and instead shifted his body to face you.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.” Confusion filtered across your face but after a moment you hesitantly nodded. “When’s the last time you got laid?” He inquired and immediately your cheeks burned red in response. At the same time, a low chuckle slipped from his throat and he shook his head. “Fuck I can’t tell if the flush just means it’s been a while or…” He trailed off and when your blush deepened he almost growled. “No...no fucking way.” He mumbled to himself.

Feeling yourself starting to shut down, you pushed yourself to your feet.

“I uh...I should go. Thanks for dinner, Paul.” You whispered, trying frantically not to cry as you started for the door.

“Y/N. Wait.” Paul stated, his fingers ever so gently wrapping around your wrist. “I’m sorry. That was invasive...I just...you’re always so tense and almost withdrawn around me and I just...forget it. I’m sorry okay.” Nodding, you sent him a forced smile before pulling your wrist back and grabbing your things to head home for the night.

~~~

With Paul once again leaving town, it was a few days before you spoke, though even that was through text messages. Feeling slightly guilty for just running out on him you sent a short apology. A little while later your phone buzzed in response.

PB: No worries. My question was invasive and I’m sorry it upset you. Not judging you for it...just a little confused.

YN: What’s confusing about that?

PB: I mean is it because you’re like saving yourself for marriage because I totally respect that….

YN: You can say you think it’s a stupid idea. Because I can’t say I disagree with you.

PB: So you’re not?

YN: No.

PB: Then what gives?

YN: Why don’t you just think on that for a minute Paul.

For a few hours your phone remained silent and you tried not to think about everything you’d just implied. Instead you’d reached for a glass of wine and by the time Paul did respond, you were just on the wrong side of tipsy and your tongue was loose.

PB: I got nothing. But if you want to explain I’m all ears, if not that’s ok too.

YN: I’m not waiting for marriage but I am waiting for mutual attraction and trust. Needless to say, I’ve found neither.

PB: You’re saying there’s never been a boyfriend you wanted to bone?

YN: I’m saying there’s never been a boyfriend.

PB: Girlfriend then?

YN: I’m exclusively into men Paul.

PB: Damn.

You really didn’t know what to say to that so you dump your phone on your bed and by the time you return after brushing your teeth and washing your face you find a second notification of a message from your neighbor.

PB: Another question you don’t have to answer. Have you even been kissed?

YN: No.

PB: Fucking hell YN. That’s just. That’s insane.

YN: Gee thanks, Paul…

PB: You know I don’t mean it like that. God is there anything you have done?

YN: Uh yeah...I mean. I’ve sent/received some risque photos, I’ve had phone sex, I’ve sexted. I’ve gotten myself off.

When you didn’t receive a response right away, immediately the fear of having said too much started pushing down on you. Suddenly your phone rang and glancing down at the caller id you saw Paul’s name. You couldn’t remember him ever actually calling you before but your thumb hovered over the button for only a moment before you accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear. Nothing but the sound of Paul’s breathing followed and for a moment you almost hung up figuring that it was an accidental dial. Then he spoke, his voice deep and throaty.

“Fuck YN. You’re killing me right now.” He said. The sound of your name rolling off his tongue in this tone of voice was not something you’d heard before but your stomach coiled unconsciously at it all the same.

“What did I do?” You whispered, biting gently at the corner of your bottom lip.

“You tell me you’ve never been kissed and then admit you’ve had phone sex and touched yourself. That’s so fucking hot y/n and I almost can’t believe it.” Though you knew Paul didn’t mean any offense by the end of his statement, he once again hit a sore spot and you felt your breath strain in response.

“Why is it so hard to believe that men have never wanted me? You’ve seen me.” You shot back, all of your insecurities of being 27 and eternally single crashing over you.

“It’s hard to believe because I have seen you and gotten to know you YN.” Paul declared his voice losing some of his deep tone only to be replaced with softness. “You’re fucking gorgeous for one. And you’re one of the best people I know. Any man that turned down a shot with you is a fucking moron.”

“Paul stop, please. I can’t...I can’t handle any more sweet words that have no real backing. I know you mean well but please...don’t just try and make me feel better.”

“Trust me sweetheart...I’m not just trying to make you feel better,” Paul said, his voice nearly sinking into a groan. “There’s nothing sweet about how much I want to use my mouth, my fingers, my cock to make you fall apart. To see you experience just how good being physical with someone can be.”

A gasp spilled from your throat and you found yourself breathing his name.

“Yeah? You want that beautiful? Want me to make you see stars, to shatter you with pleasure?” Once again his name slipped from your throat, almost in a plea. “Yeah, baby? Are you attracted to me? Do you trust me? Promise I’ll take good care of you.” Your skin was on fire at his words and your brain was foggy with the mental image of him on top of you.

You were just about to agree. About to give him anything he wanted when he spoke one more time. “How many glasses of wine did you have tonight baby?”

“Three.” You admitted almost instantly, your mind and body pliant to whatever he wanted to know.

“Then don’t answer me tonight. Sleep on it, think it over with a clear head, and get back to me.” For a moment you wanted to protest, you were plenty capable of consenting now, but Paul once again stopped you. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable so I really do want you to take the time to think about it when your head isn’t fogged over with booze and lust. Tonight doesn’t have to change anything between us if you don’t want it to.”

As the phone line went dead, you tugged your blankets higher on your body, your mind racing to process what had just happened.

~~~

It had been nearly a week since your phone call by the time Paul returned to town. He hadn’t reached out to you and though you wanted to, you hadn’t reached out to him. After spending a week lost in your own mind as you weighed the pros and cons of it all, you finally found yourself standing in front of Paul’s door, your hand lifted to knock.

Within a moment of your short knock, the door flew open revealing a shirtless Paul. At the sight of him all of the questions and thoughts that you’d had running through your head vanished...except for one. Before he could even greet you, you had pushed your way inside his apartment, your hands wringing nervously.

“I just have one question.” You exclaimed, your voice cracking. “Do you seriously want me?” You watched as Paul stepped closer to you, his hand reaching up to sweep a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Even that simple touch sent sparks through your body and you couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that you’d never felt safe when a man touched you, however innocently, until now. Any sort of touch had previously made you feel uncomfortable but right here and now you couldn’t help but want Paul to touch you everywhere.

“I seriously want you.” Paul insisted, his body moving a step closer to your own. “But more importantly...do you want me? Do you trust me?” Immediately you started to nod but Paul refused to take that for an answer, his gaze pressing you to provide him with verbal consent.

“I do.” You immediately breathed, Paul’s left hand settling on your right hip in response. Your pulse was racing, unsure of whether your consent meant anything was going to happen right now. With your gaze locked on his, you watched as Paul leaned forward, his eyes dropping to your mouth before his lips pressed gently down onto your own. Though you saw it coming, you still gasped in response and that action allowed Paul to deepen the kiss as his hands pulled you firmly against his body. Having never been kissed before, you tried to mirror his movements, hoping that that would be okay.

You were breathless when Paul finally pulled away and though his eyes were dark, he simply dropped a single kiss to your forehead before stepping backward.

“Just a little something for you to think about.” He teased. Your lips were swollen and your eyes blown as you gazed up at him and he only smirked in response. “We’re gonna do this right so be ready tomorrow night at 7 for dinner. Wear a dress or a skirt for me.” He instructed, and though you hadn’t expected any of this to include all of that, you found yourself nodding as you moved to leave Paul’s apartment.

You knew you should run errands or do laundry but instead you curled up on your couch unable to stop thinking about the way it felt to have Paul’s mouth pressed against your own.

~~~

Dinner the next night went far better than you expected it to. Conversation with Paul was as easy as it always was, but now there was an underlying current ready to light you up with a single spark. From dinner, the two of you returned home and sitting in his passenger seat, the anxious feelings of what you expected to come filled you. So when Paul simply walked you to your door, dropping another gentle kiss to your mouth before pulling away, you were slightly surprised. Sensing your confusion Paul chuckled softly before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“As much as I want to drag you to bed...especially when you look like this...I’m not going to.” He explained. “I want you to be completely comfortable with me and I get that means taking things a step at a time. I know you y/n...I know you’re freaking out and overthinking every single physical act and that’s not what I want. I want it all to feel natural and right for you.”

The fact that Paul clearly cared so much about even your unspoken needs reaffirmed that you were making the right decision.

“Come inside for a bit?” You questioned and after examining your body language Paul eventually agreed. Grabbing a few bottles of water from the fridge you met him over at your couch and settled yourself in beside him, tucked against his side. With his gaze heavy upon you, you took the initiative to make the first move and shifted to kiss him. As your mouths explored each other’s Paul’s left arm draped itself around you, securing you to him while his right slid just under the bottom edge of your dress. The heat from his body urged you forward and gradually the two of you settled into a steamy makeout session, one that caused your skin to tingle. The more you kissed, the more comfortable you became and by the time Paul pulled away, his eyes were hazy and dark.

“You’re getting good at that.” He teased softly. “A little too good.” He added, slipping his hand from where it was resting on your thigh to reach for the water you’d set on the coffee table. Watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, you basked in how his dress shirt clung to his skin, showing off just how strong and broad he was and as your eyes trailed down his body you noticed him straining against his pants. Watching you watch him, Paul surged forward with another kiss, the press of his lips against yours mostly sweet with a tinge of desire. “I should go.” He eventually murmured and though you didn’t want him to pull away, deep down you knew that he needed to because if he didn’t you’d be delving into waters deeper than you were honestly ready for.

“Alright.” You agreed. “Thank you, Paul. For dinner. And for this.”

“‘Course sweetheart. Anytime.” He replied and from your spot on the couch, you watched him leave, flipping the latch to secure your front door behind him.

~~~

One week. One week and a beautifully tailored suit. That was what it had taken for things to rise beyond the level of just kissing.

Paul had stopped by your apartment on his way home from a matinee game, just like he stopped by whenever he arrived home for the day lately, even if only for a few minutes. The moment you’d opened your door, you immediately felt your body respond because this was a suit you had never seen before and god did it do all the right things for him.

Tugging him through the door, you’d pulled him down into a kiss. There was a twinkle in his eyes when he finally pulled back, like he knew just how much he was affecting you right now. Which to be honest he probably did know. Still, even if he knew his appearance was affecting you, the words that left your mouth next left him speechless.

“Take it off Paul. I wanna explore you.” You’d been thinking about it for a while now and you knew that you needed this to be the next step. You were comfortable with your own body, you were comfortable with your own touch so you knew that his attention on you wouldn’t be that shocking. It was the male form that was new and you were certain that if you wanted to be comfortable having sex that becoming comfortable with all of him was key. Everything else seemed secondary.

When Paul didn’t respond to you right away, you felt a small smirk growing on your lips at the thought of throwing him off-kilter even a little. Stretching onto your tiptoes you kissed along his jaw and your fingers anchored themselves in the fabric of his dress shirt. Paul’s silence didn’t last long and eventually, he nodded, his lips capturing your own once more.

“Whatever you want sweetheart.” He agreed and immediately your fingers started fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt. The moment your fingers met his hot skin, everything felt a little foggier, like you were already drowning in him. “Easy baby.” Paul murmured, sensing your desire. His fingers worked to assist yours in undoing the rest of his buttons and it was only a moment more before both his suit jacket and shirt were draped over the back of your couch.

Tracing both your eyes and your fingers over his body, you focused on how tan his skin was, how the ink of his tattoos sprawled over his arms and abdomen, and how the hair on his chest felt under your fingers. He was all man and he hadn’t even taken his pants off yet.

“See something you like?” Paul teased and lifting your gaze up to his, you watched as he once again swallowed hard at the look in your eyes. “Fuck.” He groaned and hearing that sound only made you want to know what other sounds he could make. Your hands quickly fell to his belt and you bit your lip trying to focus on undoing the leather restraint. Before your hands could fall to the button and zipper of his pants however, Paul was lifting them away from his body. “Should we take this to the bedroom baby?” He suggested and though waiting even one more moment to continue undressing him seemed like too much you sighed in resignation.

The delay was made a little more bearable when Paul’s hands fell to the back of your thighs and he lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist. From this position you could feel him straining in his pants and you couldn’t help but moan at the thought of what was waiting for you, hidden from sight. Since the floorplans of your apartments were the same, it was easy for Paul to make his way back to your bedroom, not stopping until he had gently laid you back onto your bed, hovering over you to kiss you once more. With your hair sprawled across the pillows you felt him groan against your neck and in between kisses to your skin he murmured about how this could happen here but sex was happening in his bed because he wanted to see you writhing and shaking in his sheets. It seemed like a silly distinction to you but if that was what he wanted, you were more than happy to comply.

First though, you had some exploring of your own to do, so after kissing him for another minute or so you gently pushed him off of you, signaling for him to roll onto his back. And to be honest, it was almost too much just how large he seemed in your full-sized bed. Perching over him, you pressed another kiss to his lips before wandering down his exposed body, exploring everything your eyes and fingers had before in a new way. A moment’s pause was spent over each of his scars, though that moment was longer when you reached the scar on his wrist that nearly cost him his life. It was hard to think of a world without this man. It was hard to think of your life without him and for just a breath you gave into the tears forming before you kissed over the scarred skin once more and then pulled away.

Glancing up at Paul revealed a concerned gaze but after pressing your lips against his quickly, he relaxed, smirk returning to his face. Not once did he urge you for more, letting you explore him completely at your own pace but when your fingers finally found the button and then the zipper of his pants, his breath hitched. After a silent communication, he lifted his hips allowing you to tug his pants down over his legs and while you were at it, you slipped both his shoes and socks off of his feet leaving him in only his boxer briefs.

This was the first moment in which you’d felt even the slightest bit intimated, because while you’d watched porn and had previously been sent a few dick pics, this was your first time seeing one in person and even the outline of his penis through the thin fabric sent a wave of anxiety through you.

“C’mere.” Paul breathed, seeing your hesitation. Sliding back up his body, you accepted his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled your mouth down to his own. “We can stop whenever you want.” He reminded you and though your voice was tinged with a certain level of fear it was mostly defiant.

“I want to keep going.” You insisted. Nodding, Paul kissed you once more, deeper this time, and as he swept his tongue against yours, his free hand grasped your own, guiding it to touch him through his underwear. With your brain focused on the way he was kissing you, there wasn’t any room to worry about anything, though your body was quickly registering how hot he felt in your hand, how solid but yet soft he was at the same time. You didn’t even fully realize that your hand was moving at all until you felt the sensation of skin on skin as you slipped your hand under his waistband to stroke him.

“That’s it baby.” Paul groaned in your ear when your kiss broke and you turned your head to look down at where your hand was acting of its own accord. Though you could feel every bump and ridge under your fingers, it wasn’t enough and you pushed past the momentary anxiety to free him from his briefs, tossing them to the floor and exposing him to you for the first time. Initially you weren’t sure what you were thinking or feeling as you peered down at his solid length. You may have had small hands, but girth wise you could barely wrap your fingers around him and lengthwise he was longer than your palm from fingertip to wrist. In your mind it was a good size and the way his cock curved slightly leading up to the uncircumcised head was appealing. If you had looked up, you would have noticed Paul’s slightly worried expression but you didn’t, too absorbed in the sight of all of him spread out for you and only you.

The shifting sunlight through the window revealed a drop of moisture leaking from the head of Paul’s cock and instinct drew you to rub your thumb over the moisture, pushing Paul’s foreskin further out of the way. His only response was a hitch of his breath but you continued, trailing your short nails over his length lightly, almost in awe of the way he twitched against you. Exploring him was such an empowering feeling, knowing that his pleasure was entirely in your hands. You stroked him gently, let your hand drift down to cup his balls and even kissed your way from base to tip, your mouth feather-light against his skin.

Having completed a preliminary exploration you looked up at him to see his eyes dark as he watched you. Kissing his tip once more you watched his response, your own blood pulsing through your veins as you watched his arousal heighten.

“What do you need me to do?” You questioned softly. “Talk me through this Paul.” Your request drew a long groan from Paul’s throat.

“Up to you baby...I’m happy with either your hand or your mouth.” Growing low in your belly was the primal need to make him cum and it was all you could really focus on. The slightly salty taste of him lingered on your tongue and though you knew your gag reflex would likely be a problem, you wanted to blow him, wanted to feel the swell of him in your mouth. Licking over his head once more, you parted your lips and focused on keeping your teeth out of the way as you sunk down on him as much as you could. It was a strange feeling but you repeated that action twice before shifting your hand to stroke what you hadn’t fit into your mouth. Though you were certain this definitely wasn’t the best blowjob, Paul kept muttering praises, urging you to keep going, to stroke your hand against him in a certain way, to pull back and breathe.

You continued, doing your best to follow his instructions and feeling him twitch in your mouth as he groaned and grunted above you. Eventually though, Paul’s fingers in your hair drew you off of him and guided you up to kiss him again.

“Just use your hand sweetheart. I’m so close. Want you to watch me.” Your toes curled a bit hearing that you were close to making him cum and you nodded, resting your head against his shoulder as you slipped your hand back down his body to stroke over his dick. Once more he directed you to do more of this or less of that and after brushing your thumb over his head once more you watched as his body shook and semen spilled from him as he moaned heavily in your ear. You couldn’t explain the pride you felt at being the cause of his orgasm and though a bright flush littered your cheeks, you kissed him again before sliding off the bed to wash your hands and retrieve a warm, wet washcloth for him.

Letting him clean up, you settled back in bed next to him and let him curl you against his body as he napped for a few minutes while his body recovered. When he stirred he was eager to check in with you about what you were thinking, what you had enjoyed about that, ect. The way he was openly communicating with you and urging you to do the same with him only made you feel more secure and ready to share all of these experiences with him.

~~~~

When you’d met Paul, the last thing you’d expected was for him to be the gentle, caring, dare you say romantic man who put all of your needs above his own. But so far, you had yet to see him act selfish, yet to see him do anything that he thought would make you uncomfortable and because of that you were flourishing under his attention, growing in your sexuality and as a person generally.

You’d always thought that it would take you a significant period of time to open up to someone regarding being with them physically, but it had only been a couple weeks since Paul made his interest in you clear and you were beyond ready. Still, Paul had made no mention of anything further happening, continuing to let you set the pace. And you’d been dropping hints. Every single time you saw him. But he seemed to be completely oblivious.

Or maybe he was less oblivious than you’d thought. Because you’d come home today to find a box sitting outside your door and when you’d gotten inside and opened it, hidden underneath a layer of tissue paper was a satin slip with lace around the bust. It was mostly white with a floral print and it was both sexy but modest all wrapped into one garment. If finding lingerie outside your door wasn’t enough to make you blush, the note tucked inside the box was.

Clean yourself up, dinner will be ready for 7:30. I can’t wait to see every inch of you.

Paul

Following his directions, you rushed into the shower, taking the time to shave leaving your skin silky smooth. Applying just the faintest coat of makeup, you teased your hair into some loose waves before sliding on the lingerie and then slipping into a little black dress over it. By the time you finished getting ready it was almost 7:30 and as you peered at yourself in the mirror, you had never felt sexier. Making sure that you had taken your birth control for the night, you slipped into a pair of sandals and grabbed both your phone and your keys before heading upstairs.

Paul called for you to come in when you knocked on his door and you entered to find him pulling a dish out of the oven, snug jeans covering his bottom half while a white button-up was pushed up to his elbows. He looked incredible and you dropped your things in the entryway, slipping your shoes off before padding over to him barefoot. The moment you reached him he leaned down to gently kiss you and then murmured for you to go sit at the table. Shortly after, you had a plate of food in front of you along with a small glass of wine and a large glass of water. It didn’t take a genius to see that tonight was the night but while you’d thought you’d feel nervous, you just felt ready...that spark in your stomach just waiting to be lit.

You laughed at Paul’s stories through dinner before helping him clean up the kitchen. As you finished putting the last dish away you realized that Paul had disappeared and when you went looking for him, you found him finishing lighting candles in his bedroom, blankets pulled down to the foot of the bed for easy access.

“Paul…” You breathed, almost in awe that he was going to all of this effort for you. He cursed softly at the sound of your voice before turning, an almost sheepish look on his face. “What’s all this?” You continued, your body drawing you closer to his. As you pressed yourself against his chest, his right arm slipped around your waist and he bent to press his forehead to yours.

“I know you probably didn’t expect all of this...nor do you think you need it.” He murmured and you had to admit he was right on both accounts. “But…” He continued. “If I’m the lucky son of a bitch that gets a shot with you I’m gonna do everything I can to make it good for you.” Your heart swelled at his words, at the fact that he was honestly going above and beyond anything you could have expected.

“Can’t wait to see just what your definition of good is.” You teased, closing the distance between your mouths to kiss him. His lips on yours was definitely something you weren’t sure you could ever get sick of and while there was a nagging thought as to what would happen after tonight, you weren’t about to let that ruin things. What would come tomorrow was a problem for tomorrow’s version of you, tonight’s version of you was looking forward to having her brains fucked out.

You honestly weren’t sure how long you stood beside Paul’s bed kissing, but eventually his hands slid from their spot at your waist down to your ass and he gently lifted you to set you onto his soft mattress. Finally breaking away from your mouth he leaned back and you watched as his eyes took in your body.

“Give me a minute to memorize the way you look right now.” He mumbled and once more you felt your cheeks flush in response to him. You weren’t sure you’d ever get over being looked at like this. And you weren’t sure you wanted to.

After a moment, Paul bent back down and you felt his breath against the shell of your ear before his mouth dipped to kiss and suck at the sensitive skin along your neck. “So beautiful.” He murmured and with one hand sweeping light trails along your side and over your arm you already felt your desire for him growing. But as impatient as you were feeling, you let him take his time, the same way he let you take your time with him. Thankfully, Paul sensed your impatience and after the dancing around each other that honestly felt like it had been going on forever, even if it wasn’t long at all, it was clear that he was just as ready to move things forward as you were.

He’d thoroughly marked your neck up by the time his hands drifted down to the bottom of your dress and with a smile and a nod that layer of fabric was removed, leaving you in nothing but the slip and a thong you’d pulled out from the very back of your drawer. Paul groaned the second he saw you in the lingerie he had purchased and you saw the second his eyes darkened when he realized that your nipples were already pebbled through the thin fabric.

“See something you like?” You teased, repeating his words from the first time you saw him. Realizing that you’d just thrown his own phrase back at him, Paul laughed and your smile widened. You’d never thought intimacy could be so easy and comfortable but with Paul, it was all of that and more.

“I see things I more than like.” He finally responded and you moaned as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples through the thin fabric of the slip. In all the time you’d spent exploring your own body, you had never gotten as much pleasure from massaging your own breasts as you’d gotten from less than a minute of Paul’s attention on them. With your body arching into him, his large hands slipped behind your back for a moment to pull you closer to him. He continued, swapping to your other breast after a while until you were practically panting under him.

“Paul please.” You whimpered and he smirked up at you.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?” He teased. “Trust me baby...I’ll destroy you all in due time.” His words were only turning you on more and you reached down to fumble with his button-up again.

“Goddamnit Paul...take your shirt off.” You whined, wanting nothing more than to feel his bare chest pressing down on you. His smirk softened a bit and he rested back on his knees as he worked his shirt off of his body before laying back down over you, pressing some of his weight onto your body.

“That what you want?” He asked. Your fingers scraped along his scalp as you nodded before quickly dropping down to run over his shoulders. He was so sexy and there was still a part of you that couldn’t believe that you were getting to feel him like this.

After making out for a few more minutes, Paul’s hips rutting down against your own, he pulled back and started kissing down your body, flicking his tongue over your nipples once more before settling himself between your spread thighs. Just the sight of him there made you shiver but true goosebumps appeared over every surface of your body as he kissed from your knee to the crease of your thigh before repeating the action on the other leg.

“You’re so wet for me.” He commented, his thumb pressing over the lace of your thong right where you needed him most. “So wet for me.” He repeated. “But I’m gonna make you fall apart on my mouth and my fingers just like I promised.” His eyes sought consent once more as his fingers slipped under the edge of the thong and when you moaned his name the fabric quickly joined the other pieces on the floor and for the first time you were truly exposed to him, only the slip still covering your body. “Stunning.” He declared, his hot breath dancing across your skin making you more and more needy for him.

You’d thought you were prepared for this...but there wasn’t anything that could prepare you for the way Paul’s mouth felt as he dove into your core. It was obvious that he knew exactly what he was doing, but not only that, that he truly enjoyed it as well. His forearm draped across your pelvis to keep your hips in place as he worked your body over. You’d never orgasmed this fast before but within only a few minutes you felt yourself spiraling over the edge as his tongue fucked into you. He worked you through your orgasm, tongue soothing gently over your heated flesh while licking up all of the juices he’d drawn from you. Then for a moment, he kissed at your hip, letting some of your sensitivity ebb.

Your break had barely begun when he slipped first one and then a second large finger inside of you, curling them and flexing them to stretch you out for him. As he did so, he moved back up the bed to kiss you and for the first time you tasted yourself on his tongue. It was dirty but sexy at the same time and you couldn’t control the endless string of moans against his mouth as he pushed you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

“You’re so sexy.” Paul groaned and glancing over you could see just how much he was straining against his jeans. Reaching over you flicked open the button and gently drew the zipper down, hoping to provide him with some relief. The release of pressure was clearly appreciated because Paul’s fingers sped up inside you and you felt your second orgasm behind to crest. “That’s my girl.” Paul murmured against the skin of your neck. “C’mon baby. Come for me again. Let me feel you clench around my fingers just like you’ll clench around my dick. You’re so goddamn tight baby.” Whether it was his words or the way he curled his fingers to press against your g-spot, you were soon seeing stars and you cried out loudly as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through you.

When you finally settled, you found Paul gazing down at you completely in awe. “You didn’t tell me you’re a squirter.” He groaned and an embarrassed expression graced your face. Having wiped his fingers on the sheets, Paul’s hand slipped into your hair and he tugged your mouth back to his. “No...none of that. You don’t know how fucking sexy that is Y/N.” He insisted. Though your cheeks were still flushed you focused yourself on Paul’s kiss, moaning as he nipped at the skin of your lips.

“You’re so expressive, baby. I can’t get enough.” He assured you, his hands sliding to tug the satin slip up and off of your body. When he didn’t speak at first, you felt the nerves creeping back in but they were quickly silenced by Paul’s string of expletives as he eyed you. “You. Are. So. Sexy.” He repeated kissing each of your breasts and then down over the swell of your stomach before returning his mouth to yours. With the fire rising in your veins again, stronger than ever before, you slipped your hands down to push his jeans off over his ass before cupping him through his boxer briefs again.

“I swear Paul if you don’t fuck me soon…” You trailed off. Paul wore a devilish smirk and he trailed his hands over your body.

“What are you gonna do?” He teased. A frustrated whimper slipped from your throat and you squirmed against the sheets trying to quell the aching feeling that was starting to drive you crazy. “Answer me, baby.” Paul pushed, his thumb slipping down to put just the slightest amount of pressure on your throbbing clit.

“I’m gonna explode.” You whined. A second whine escaped you as Paul climbed off of the bed and he chuckled softly at just how desperate you were for him.

“Just give me a second sweetheart.” He insisted and you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor and a nightstand drawer opening before Paul was beside you again, his fingers brushing away the frustrated tears that had slipped down your cheeks. You were feeling so much and yet it wasn’t enough and you truly felt like you were going to burst if something didn’t happen soon.

Paul’s thumb lifted your chin, bringing your eyes to his own and then he guided your hand to help roll the condom down over his length. “You need to relax for me Y/N.” Paul directed. “This shouldn’t hurt but it might sting a little and I just need you to relax and focus on me. I promise you I’m gonna make you feel so good.” The sound of his words was grounding and you nodded, not sure whether to watch his face or the way his body connected with yours. Feeling the pressure of his cock head at your core had you choosing the latter and you gasped as he slowly pressed inside you, your body taking him eagerly. There wasn’t any feeling besides pressure, besides feeling full and you moaned at the knowledge that this was as close as you could ever be to another person.

When you looked up at Paul’s face you could see him watching you, could see the strain to remain still. Brushing your thumb over his cheek you nodded up at him.

“I’m good Paul. Promise.” You insisted. “Please move.” His shoulders slumped a bit in relief as he drew his hips back before thrusting forward again. The pace he set was slow and easy but it was already providing delicious friction. The way his body pinned you to the bed as he fucked into you made you feel so small and you were overwhelmed at all of the feelings rushing through you.

When Paul shifted your legs to wrap around his waist, he slid even deeper inside of you and you cursed, tears prickling in your eyes. Immediately Paul froze, scared he had hurt you but you kissed him softly in reassurance. The feeling of him that deep didn’t hurt, it was just more than you had expected and you were certain you were going to feel him for days.

As the friction built, so did the pleasure and gradually your moans grew louder and came more frequently. In turn, Paul’s pace increased just slightly and his grunts in your ear were swapped for the sound of his voice pleading for you to cum, praising you for just how good you felt wrapped around him. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Paul kissed you and though you hadn’t seen it coming, your orgasm hit suddenly causing your body to bow beneath him and a shriek of his name to spill from your lips. A low groan and a twitch of his cock inside you signaled that he had spilled into the condom and he collapsed half on top of you and half beside you as your bodies struggled to come down from their highs.

With Paul’s face nestled into your breast, you laid there for a few minutes before he gingerly pulled out of you causing you to wince. The bed shifted as Paul moved to discard the condom but eventually, he returned, gathering you in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. He instructed you to pee and then guided you into the shower to quickly rinse off. By the time you’d returned he’d changed the sheets on the bed, the candles had been blown out, and a t-shirt was laid out for you to change into.

Tugging the t-shirt over your body, you let Paul pull you back onto the bed and he tucked you into his chest.

“You were incredible.” He whispered. “That was incredible.” It was a relief to know that he enjoyed that as much as you had, but now that the deed was done you couldn’t help but wonder what, if anything, came next. It wasn’t that you would ever regret this, there was no way you could when it had been so perfect. If you had lost your virginity as a teenager there was no way you would have gotten three orgasms from the experience like you did now with him. It was well worth the wait in your mind and you could only hope that the delay in getting here had been worth it for him as well.

Sensing your mental turmoil, Paul groaned and shifted to tangle your bodies together further. “Turn that brain of yours off.” He grumbled. “I still have a million other things to teach you, don’t I?”

It was just like Paul to quell all of your worries with one stupid phrase. There were so many things he could teach you...about sex and about life. If he was willing, well, you certainly weren’t going to turn it down. Not when it felt like this.

#paul bissonnette #paul bissonnette imagine #paul bissonnette nws #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut #nhl smut #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes imagine #nws #lemon #029 #former player #former player imagine

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mcrmadness · 4 years ago

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Madness draws: Behind the Scenes of the Bela/Farin: “Widumihei” comic.

A few months ago I posted here this comic:

CLICK HERE for the original post about that comic where you can see it in better and bigger size, and also reblog it ;)

And this post is just a deep dive into how I plan, do and draw my comics.

Let’s start with sketchbook things...

So every comic needs a story, right? My comics usually are born from either some dialogue I imagine in my head or by an impulsive inspiration that happens when I see something or talk with people and a random idea is triggered. I’m very good at coming up with new ideas solely based on just one word or so which is why I often ask people if they have anything they would want to see/read because I suck at coming up ideas on my own. Or I do get ideas, but not as often as I’d want to.

This particular idea was very old and I have tried but I cannot find the piece that was my inspiration but it was in some of my old German books because I remember laughing at it with either my brother or even with the German teacher in 2011 or 2012. I was only able to find my first “sketch” of the story:

This is in the notebook I used for writing down some comic ideas and even had one comic in it, plus it’s also my fanfiction writing notebook. It has no date but I know for sure it was either 2011 or 2012 because that’s when I did my last Bela/Farin comic and pretty much started my (unintentional) 6 year pause from drawing altogether.

I have always been trilingual when I do these plans for my comics, often writing the “narration” in Finnish and the dialog either in English or German because I just cannot imagine them to speaking Finnish. The translation of that text goes as:

COMIC (sarjis = sarjakuva = comic book in Finnish)

1. The phone is ringing. 2. F: “Widumihei?!” B: ? 3. B: “Farin wtf?” 4. Farin walks from another room. 5. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “It means, “will you marry me?”“ 7. B: *wtf* REPLAY:

1. Bela is sitting/laying somewhere. 2. The phone is ringing. Reached with his hand? 3. Looks at the phone, “wtf?”, a thought: “von Jan: Widumihei?!” 4. Bela: “Farin?” / “Jan?” 5. F comes from another room, looks in from behind the door frame or something. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “Widumihei: “WIllst DU MIch HEiraten”“ 7. B: “WTF”

So when I then started to draw these comics again in 2018, I kept thinking about this one too and still wanted to draw it one day. If you have read the finished comic, you may notice something different in the old plot versus new: I switched Bela’s and Farin’s roles. Back then I didn’t know too much yet but over the years I have learnt much much more about them and I just figured that asking to marry him even as a joke would be too much for Farin and that it would fit Bela’s persona much much better.

***

I had a bit of problems with getting started with this one, mainly because the last times I drew a dä comic was in June 2020, in April 2020 and before those in October 2019. Because of so long time between the comics, I just always forgot about my methods and in which order I do things and what works for me the best. So every time I started to work on a comic, I had to start completely over because all I had was blank paper and I somehow needed to get my thoughts in order and out of my head, into a physical form aka as text and images on the paper, and it’s easier said than done.

So pardon me but from this on the text is going to get a little bit confusing for a little while from now on - but it’s also a very good look over how the life with my suspected ADHD be like sometimes...

I started working on the plot once again to my sketchbook... I think it was somewhere in the beginning of 2020. Because the next idea there is from the summer. This is what the plot looked like at that point - here I had already switched their roles:

Shortly, the texts go: 1. Farin is reading a book. 2. A phone makes a noise. 3. (Farin) looks at it/read the message. / 6. B appears into the doorway. / 11. F spits out the tea.

And underneath it you can see one of the stick figure storyboards I often do in order to kinda see the text in pictures better, and I will write down or draw important aspects like expressions (Farin’s eyebrows) or things like *facepalm’* or *eyeroll* so that I remember to add them.

Next I was struggling with the era. It needed to be an era with the old mobile phones with SMS options but still not too early because I feel that Farin would have not been the first in line to buy a brand new technology object, especially not when it’s a phone. I was even googling when did Germany get their first mobile phone - I remember I got my first phone aka Nokia 5510 in 2000 or 2001 after my mom got a new one and gave her old one to me, so the story shouldn’t happen too many years before the Millenium.

Originally I planned 1997 for that - I needed to think about that based on their styles because shorter hair is harder to draw. Here’s me trying out some hairs and how they’re to draw and which era would suit my needs the best. I actually find the text hilarious altho it’s mine but this is what it’s in English:

Time period -> 1996-1997? 1998 I’ve never drawn 1999 is not that much fun to draw 2000 is already a bit too late? Bela not that much fun to draw. -2001 moustaches are not fun to draw?

I think I was struggling with my thoughts because the next thing in that sketchbook is yet another storyboard:

Or actually I think this was just to see how many sheets I’d need and how many panels I could fit on one sheet.

Anyhow, I then did other things for some time before I got back to this project this year. Including finishing with the sketchbook I had been using since 2010 (and the half of it since 2018!) and I had to get myself a new one. So when I started to think about this comic again, one night I was just thinking about some Bela/Farin scenarios as usual and suddenly I just felt that I NEED to do the comic in the 1998 style!!! So suddenly we jump from the original 1997 idea to the new era, only because of the colors.

So asap I grabbed my sketchbook and started to look for the proper colors for the hairs:

This one I posted here before too as I was struggling a lot and just felt that I didn’t know how to draw, again. Sometimes when I feel like that, I start drawing with my non-dominant aka left hand because it doesn’t have all that in muscle memory so drawing and writing with it feels more free and it feels almost like pressing a refresh button in my brain. Suddenly the right one know again how to draw because left isn’t too well in control. The below part of the image is done completely with the left hand, including the coloring.

And because I had now a new sketchbook, I somehow couldn’t... deal with the plot and plans being in a different sketchbook than everything else so I had write the plot/dialog AGAIN, into this new sketchbook, along with the storyboards and everything:

Translations: kirja = book, puhelin = phone, oviaukossa = in the doorway, teet suusta = tea(s) out of a/the mouth. “Puhelin zoom” just means “close up to the phone screen” in Madness.

You can also see that I found out that I don’t need to do the stick figure storyboards to imitate a sheet when I can just draw this rectangle and smaller rectangles inside of it and write there numbers to match the things in the dialog to make it much easier for me to plan the pages. And here’s also a small easter egg: there’s 13 panels overall in this comic :D I almost did 12 but then felt that no, I really need to do 13 because, you know, the hairs, the era, the album title. And also because I like the number so much lmao.

So from there we get to the second storyboard which is not just stick figures anymore but just me planning how I want the panels to look like. To get the imagery of the rooms and facial expressions etc. out onto the paper so that I can see them in real life instead of my shady imagination that sometimes isn’t as vivid as what I could be.

Also have you ever tried to draw a beach chair? It’s more difficult than you’d think:

I tried to draw the same thing from the same reference photos so many times and still I always felt like I was trying to draw that impossible triangle or some other illusion image. And it just went on and on here:

Originally I also had planned the second panel to be a close up of the phone so that Farin’s face would be left at the background from the frog perspective. That’s what I was trying to with that weird-ass face on the left but turned out that I have never drawn these characters from such angle and I just... couldn’t see it in my head clearly enough to be able to draw it. So I dismissed that idea and that’s why the angle changed from a phone close-up to a side view to the room and at Farin.

As I was in the middle of planning the second page, I suddenly wasn’t happy with my original plot anymore. I wasn’t sure if it would work and needed to think about it one more time. So I wrote two other dialogs here, along with a storyboards for them both. I ended up choosing B from those two options eventually.

I don’t remember anymore if I had already done the first sketch of the comics or not but at some point I just felt that I no longer knew how to draw in my style. Sometimes you just draw and learn wrong things and wrong methods that you get used to and then you have to take a break and actually do a little bit of studying over your own style to find again the way how you want to draw, and get rid of the bad habits and find the good ones again. In my case it was to draw the eyes way way too big when they originally never were THAT big, so I had to learn how to draw them small and normal again. That’s why I did these, as I really needed to pay attention to the faces and remember how to draw them again:

The front-side views were another big readong for this “study” because I have drawn that perspective only once or twice before and I needed to figure out how I want to draw that. Also, I don’t know if it’s just me but for some reason the front-side Farin reminds me of one of the parent characters from this cartoon called The Rugrats which I watched as a kid. It was totally unintentional, but you can google The Rugrats if you don’t know how the charatcers looked like in the cartoon.

The things below are just me testing something. The red Farins were just to test how the colored pencils work on each other and how the fineliners work with the colored pencils, and which way is the better way to do the shading. And the red colored pencil was the only one available at the time so that had to do.

A little bit about the heads btw: You might notice some difference between the left and right faces. It’s because I have always, always struggled with drawing anything that is looking at right. Most of the animal portraits and all I have drawn so that they look at left because I just find it so much easier to draw. I think with comics it’s because I always start with the eye (and the eyebrows if I don’t forget it) and then do the forehead, nose, mouth and chin, and after that I either continue from the hair (from the front) or do the ear first. But when I am drawing them to look at right, I have to basically draw the mirror image and starting from the hair is not the key because it can easily mess up with the perspectives. I still usually draw everything in the same order but it really is difficult because I’m doing a mirror image and my own hand is on the way, too. Basically I’m drawing from right to left instead of left to right! (I think I should try drawing those with my left hand, then...)

And from here we get to the first sketch of the comic. From here on the images are from my phone’s camera so they are sometimes illegally bad but no can do, I again didn’t think I’d post these to anywhere:

Here you can see I was mainly just focusing on the shapes and the space inside those panels. Just trying to see the perspective and how everything is. The only thing that I drew more precisely was the third panel, with the hand and phone. I had quite a nice memory of old phones in my head but I still googled for some reference photos of Nokia 5110 phones as that was my first phone (as I mentioned earlier), and I also happened to have some of my other old phones on the table nearby so I took my own hand reference photos too:

They always say there’s a little bit of the artist in their art and this one literally has that - “Farin’s” hand is actually my hand! :D And I think the size is kinda on point too because this phone was like 2-3 times smaller than Nokia 5110 and I have small hands, and I believe Farin must have much bigger hands, so the 5110 probably would have looked about the same size in his hand.

After the first sketch, the next step was then - the second sketch:

I also wanted to add more action to the panels so that it’s interesting to look at and not just basically the same panel over and over again with just different speech bubbles, so I came up with the idea of Farin spitting out his tea not being as cartoony as it could be and that he would have to actually clean it up instead of just leaving it there just because in cartoons/comics everything is possible. That way I got more depth into the panels and it was also interesting for me to draw because I drew lots of new postures I have never drawn before, and I’m surprised how well it went despite me not even looking for any kind of reference photos! The only things I used reference photos for were the beach chair, and the phone in a hand. (I have actually always been quite good at drawing 3D objects and spaces, especially if they are rectangular.)

So yeah, this is the phase where everything is then finished with pencil and what follows next is drawing the lines with fineliners - I use Sakura Pigma Micron fineliners for everything else, and black Promarker for doing the lines for the panels (and also if I need bigger pitch black areas done).

Here are the panel lines done but I only had a photo of this first sheet.

And here are both sheets with the finelining done and all pencil marks etc. erased. I really like this part because it looks so clean when all those sketch marks are gone. It’s also crazy to think I literally spend hours drawing something in pencil only to erase it all away later :D

And here’s one photo of the coloring process, the first one has only the base colors done but none of the shadows yet (apart from the shirts), and the second one has some of the shadows done but not everything yet.

Usually after coloring, I will then go through everything with the fineliners one more time to make sure all the lines are dark enough as it just gives everything the finished yet a bit “sketchy” look that what I really like with my comics. The actual last detail is always adding my signature along with the date or year.

And here’s the finished comic one more time for comparison:

Don’t forget to check and reblog the actual post about this comic if you read this post all the way here. I’d appreaciate that a lot since art and artist on Tumblr are not really that much appreciated.

#mcrmadness draws #mcrmadness draws: behind the scenes #my comics #dä fanart #die ärzte

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas, obsessedbutonline!

For @obsessedbutonline, who listed fluff, angst, and ‘Derek giving Stiles gift’ as a few ‘Likes’. I hope I did those items justice. Hope you have a wonderful Christmas, Friend!

Read On AO3

*****

The Gift

The gift. He supposed it all started with the gift. Or maybe Star Trek. Derek wasn’t sure. It was Stiles, after all. One day, the younger man had been debating the cuddle rating of a Tribble, before diving into an analysis of The Voyage Home being one of the worst movies in franchise history (except for the whales, of course), and the next thing Derek knew, he’d found himself discussing how Moby Dick was one of his favorite books. The random jumps from one topic to another hadn’t been anything new for Stiles, but that had also been the year they’d legitimately gotten ‘together’ after their contentious circling of each other’s orbits, so when Derek had opened an inelegantly wrapped early edition of the novel on that first Christmas as a couple, he’d been rendered speechless.

He couldn’t remember how long he’d stared at the leather-bound copy exactly, but he did recall feeling a bout of inadequacy. He thought he’d hid it well though. “Stiles – “ he’d started. “I wasn’t expecting…This is too much.”

Stiles had shrugged like it hadn’t been a big deal, an eager grin on his face. “Nah, it wasn’t too bad. A classmate mentioned a prof who needed an assistant to help translate some Latin verses, and I thought I’d check it out. When I went, I noticed a copy of Moby Dick in his office, and you’d mentioned it was one of your favorites, so I offered my translation services for free if he would sell the book for a discounted price.”

Of course, Stiles had remembered that weird detail from a throwaway conversation. And of course, he’d been resourceful in procuring it. That was just who Stiles was. Now, Derek, on the other hand… well, he’d felt completely out of his league when he’d pulled out the gift card he’d picked up a day earlier from a comic book store. He hadn’t even known if that was a store Stiles ever visited. He really sucked at gift-giving. “Sorry, I didn’t …”

Stiles had yanked it out of his hands before he’d even finished. “I love it. Thanks, Derek!” The younger man had beamed excitedly, clutching that cheap piece of plastic in his hands as if he’d just received some personal heirloom. There had been no uptick in the man’s heartrate, so there’d been no lie in those words, but that hadn’t stop Derek from feeling bad.

And it was then that he had resolved to do better, that he would be thoughtful and meticulous in his gift selection the next time Christmas rolled around. Stiles deserved as much.

But he’d mentioned he was bad at gift-giving, right? As in, monumentally bad. Because the next Christmas, when they’d settled down on his couch after an intimate holiday dinner he’d prepared for the two of them, Stiles had presented him with a charmingly wrinkled gift bag. And when he’d pulled out a lovingly restored and framed photograph of his family from before the fire, he’d not only felt a slight lump in his throat at the sentiment, he’d also felt remarkably small and completely lacking in comparison. It was a good thing they’d come to a mutual understanding that their birthdays would be a no-gift zone, because Derek wasn’t sure he could’ve handled double the inferiority complex this time of year.

“I found a copy of the photo from the digital archives of the town newspaper. It was for some fundraiser committee your mom chaired, I think. I saved a copy, and googled around for some pointers on how to increase the resolution so I could print out a decent version of it,” Stiles had explained.

Derek had nodded absently, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of his mother’s face under the cool glass. His whole family had stared back at him, carefree and unburdened in the moment that photo had been taken, eyes all shiny from a sunny afternoon picnic. “Yeah, I remember. It was a Pets in the Park fundraiser for the local animal shelter.” There had been an ache in the pit of his stomach at the reminder of everything he’d lost, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had once been. Now, it had been dulled by time, and tempered by the meaningful relationships he’d found, foremost of which was the one with the man beside him. “Thank you,” he’d said slowly, slightly surprised that his voice hadn’t cracked at the pool of emotion swirling within him.

“Anytime, big guy.” Stiles had leaned in, his weight and warmth freely offered as a source of silent strength.

But when he’d pulled out his gift for Stiles, he had had that sinking feeling of failing an important test. He hadn’t even had time to wrap it properly, opting to place a haphazard bow on it instead. “Sorry, I didn’t know …”

Stiles had grabbed the cellophane-covered box with a puzzled expression. “A bath set?” he’d asked slowly. “Is this your way of telling me I stink?”

There had been amusement in the younger man’s tone, devoid of upset or disappointment, but that hadn’t stopped Derek from feeling upset and disappointed in himself. After Stiles had gone through all the trouble of giving him such a personal and meaningful gift, he’d reciprocated with … soap. “Remember when you were on break during Thanksgiving,” he’d started to explain. “That necromancer problem we had?”

“Oh, damn, do I ever! We spent the whole night trying to wash zombie goo out of bodily crevices I never knew I had!” Then, realization had set in as those rich brown eyes widened. “This is perfect, Derek! Thank you!” And just like that, Stiles had fallen on him with his usual gracelessness, and proceeded to express his ‘gratitude’ properly.

That had been last year. But this time around, right before Stiles had returned to campus for his final two semesters of college, Derek had stumbled upon the ideal Christmas gift, while they were cleaning, of all things. They’d been packing up and storing some of Stiles’ stuff before the younger man headed back to school when they’d gotten diverted by some dusty, old boxes in the Sheriff’s attic. Somehow, in the way of procrastination, they’d ended up flipping through old photo albums when Stiles had paused to tell him about a picture of his mother.

“Oh, there’s the locket my dad helped me buy for Mother’s Day when I was eight,” Stiles had said as he’d pointed to a picture of Claudia Stilinski, vivacious and beaming brightly at the camera. Anyone could see where Stiles had gotten his smile. “I didn’t have the greatest taste in jewelry, so it doesn’t look like much, but she was so excited when she got it. She wore it all the time.”

“It’s nice that you have a memento to remember her by,” Derek had supplied.

Stiles’ shoulders had slumped a little at the comment. “Yeah, I think we accidentally sold it during a garage sale not long after she died. Dad wasn’t exactly in the best place, and he just wanted to get rid of the memories because they hurt so much back then. Lots of regret now. Who knows? It might’ve found another home, or it might be in a garbage dump somewhere.”

And that comment had led him down the winding, convoluted path to where he was now: standing in front of a teenage girl with bright blue hair and an eclectic ensemble of a loose plaid shirt, artfully ripped leggings, and combat boots.

“A hundred bucks,” the girl re-stated, her tone indicating that this wasn’t a negotiation.

“One hundred? The pawn shop owner said you only paid five dollars for it.” He could be stubborn too, though deep down, he knew he wasn’t really in a position of power in this situation, much as that rankled him.

Ms. Blue-hair shrugged. “So? If you want it that bad, then you should be willing to pay for it.”

She had him there. Three months of diligently interviewing the Stilinski neighbors, and following a trail of multiple goodwill and pawn shops had led him to that very locket hanging from the girl’s neck, that very locket Stiles had shown him in that old photo of his mother. He gave the teen what Stiles had laughingly termed his ‘murder-brow’ look and pulled out his wallet. Of course, he would pay, especially after all the work he’d put into tracking it down, and because this was for Stiles. He didn’t have to like being swindled like this though.

“That’s a nice jacket, by the way.”

Derek looked up from pulling out the cash and froze. He glared at the girl, hoping the intensity of his stare would deter whatever she was about to insinuate. It didn’t work.

“No,” he said flatly as she watched him expectantly.

“Okay, I guess we’re done here then. Nice meeting you.” And with that, she turned and started to walk away.

Derek ground his teeth together to keep from outright growling and fought hard to not wolf out. He hated being bested like this. Life would’ve been so much simpler if he could just take the damned piece of jewelry by force and run off with it. Stupid morals.

“Fine,” he conceded with a clenched jaw after she’d managed to walk several feet away.

She turned with a triumphant smile as he started to shrug off his leather jacket. When he held it out with the wad of cash, she unclasped the chain without any further objections and handed it over. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

(***)

Stiles’ name flashed on his lock screen just as he was pulling up to his loft.

“Hey, you back already?” he answered as he shifted his car into park. His regular visits to Stanford notwithstanding, he’d been anticipating Stiles’ winter break for a while, and the timing couldn’t have worked out any better with him finding the locket when he had. “I was going to pick you up tonight after you’ve had a few hours with your dad.”

Several seconds of heavy breathing greeted his words, and almost instantly, he was on alert, muscles tensing and heartrate increasing. “Stiles?”

“Yeah, Derek, I’m here,” a familiar voice sounded through the phone. “Sorry, just had to get around Scott to check something out. But no, I’m not home yet. Got sidetracked on my way into town. Can you come to the preserve right now? The trail just off Parsons. We’ve got, um, a problem.”

Since his return to Beacon Hills, the supernatural activity in the area had decreased significantly, especially with a solid pack established in the area now, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional run-in with creatures bringing in death and mayhem. This sounded like one of those times. Shifting gears into reverse, he responded without hesitation, “On my way.”

The trip to the preserve was quick, the route having been travelled so many times that he could probably drive it eyes closed. After parking in the lot off Parsons, he picked up Stiles’ scent almost immediately, along with a few others of the pack, and had no problems tracking the source down a few hundred feet off a popular running path.

Not surprisingly, Scott noticed him first, looking up from a patch of tall grass and nodding in greeting as Derek silently approached. Stiles stood more out in the open, back turned and head down as he tapped busily on his phone. Once upon a time, his quiet ‘stalking’ would’ve caused a flailing of limbs and a high-pitched yelp from the younger man, but of the familiarity borne from the years of closeness, Stiles simply turned, smiled, and greeted him with a warm ‘hey’ as if he’d known he was there the whole time. And all things considered, he probably had.

They’d never been a couple for overt displays of affection, but the way Stiles unconsciously leaned toward him, trusting and open, worked just as well in telling Derek how the other man felt. He usually did the same, subtly breathing in the scent of his boyfriend and feeling more settled in his presence. They hadn’t seen each for a couple of weeks, and he’d missed having Stiles near.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking around for the rest of the pack. Their scents were fainter, which meant they had been here recently, but had likely wandered off or left altogether.

“It’s Christmastime in Beacon Hills, so the usual. Y’know, carolers, Santa parades, sleigh rides, tidings of comfort and joy, and oh yeah, witches.”

Derek had never been bothered by Stiles’ sarcasm, though he wouldn’t openly admit that if asked about their first encounters with each other, but now, he found the trait rather endearing. “So, we’re dealing with a witch. How bad?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I was driving back into town when I saw a kid running across the road. Freaked me out, and barely stopped in time. When I went to check on him, he was crying and said an old woman had tried to take him. At first, I thought it was an attempted kidnapping, but then, he said that there was a lot of screaming coming from her big bag, and he was scared of getting stuffed in there with all the other kid. For this town, that triggered alarm bells. Stuffing kids into bags and lugging them around is not your regular run-of-the-mill kidnapper MO. I called my dad, and he came out here with a few units, but is running interference on the supernatural front. He’d mentioned that this was the third attempted kidnapping this month, so the deputies are on high alert. They still think it’s a regular human predator, so they’re canvassing the other side of the preserve right now, which means we can do our own investigation here. I called Scott, and the others are now fanned out, doing a search to see if we can catch a scent.”

“No luck yet,” Scott added as he strode over to join them. “Just a whole bunch of the usual smells, and with the people that use the running trails, it’s hard to pinpoint a specific one. We’re not exactly sure what we’re looking for.”

“I think I have a lead though.” Stiles held out his phone to show an etching of a stooped crone with a large sack. “We might have an Icelandic witch in the area, one that kidnaps and eats children, but I’m not a hundred percent. I hope I’m not right because … well, children! But she’s supposed to be active around Christmas. I need to double-check some books at my house to make sure though.”

Derek nodded, not surprised that Stiles had pretty much figured it out already. As human as Stiles was, he was arguably one of the pack’s most valuable assets, and truth be told, Derek felt quite proud of the other man’s quick wit and life-saving accomplishments. “So, you need to go home then?”

Stiles made a sound of agreement as he tucked his phone away and gave him an apologetic look. No words were needed to communicate how sorry he was that their reunion wasn’t what they’d planned.

“Okay, call us with any info,” Scott chimed in. “Derek and I will probably be more useful if we keep scouting the area. This is children we’re talking about. I don’t want anymore of them put in danger.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Alpha leader, sir,” Stiles replied jokingly, giving his friend a mock salute.

The years had matured Scott somewhat, enough that the erstwhile werewolf took his role and responsibilities somewhat seriously now. And for this, Derek was grateful.

Scott gave Stiles a shove to get him on his way, before shaking his head with a laugh and started to move back to the tall grass he’d been searching through earlier. “Go, you idiot.”

Stiles responded with the very mature gesture of sticking out his tongue. Then, Derek felt the younger man’s arm wrap lightly around his waist and pull him close for a quick kiss. The motion was casual, natural, and one that Derek returned without thought. “Sorry, not what we’d planned when I got back, huh? Let’s catch this witch fast so we can start our Christmas cuddle session, ‘kay?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at the comment. His boyfriend sure did have a way with words sometimes. “Christmas cuddle?”

“Hey, it is what it is.” Stiles shrugged innocently as he started to move away.

“I’m not calling it that.”

“Suit yourself, Sourwolf, but I’ve officially labelled it, and you can’t take that away from me,” Stiles said as he walked backwards toward the nearby trail. Derek half-expected him to trip on some invisible rock in the next few seconds. “Gonna say it all I want!”

He rolled his eyes as the younger man’s antics. “Go.”

“Christmas cuddle! Oh, and far be it for me to complain about seeing you in that t-shirt, but you do know it’s winter, right? We may live in California, and you may have some super-awesome internal wolfy furnace going, but I’m cold just looking at you. Where’s your jacket?”

“Go!” While he didn’t feel the chill as acutely, he didn’t need to be reminded about his fleecing by a greedy, blue-haired teenager.

After Stiles wave his acknowledgement and jogged out of sight, Derek turned back to join Scott. Their relationship may have started out roughly, but they’d fallen into a companionable pattern over the last few years. It was likely because of everything Scott had been through and his maturation, but Derek guessed part of it may have been out of respect for both their relationships with Stiles. Without much preamble, they quickly sectioned off their respective search zones, and fanned out into the thicker parts of the preserve. Derek had grown up here, had run and played amongst the trees and foliage so often that walking through it now stirred a sense of homecoming. Still, sometimes, there were things here that could still surprise him. Like the odd whiff of fear and panic he caught a few minutes after he’d split off from Scott. It was faint, probably non-existent for the newer wolves, but it was there, so out of place with the earthy scent of moss and soil. He started to follow it, his senses sharpening as he homed in on the potential prey. He hadn’t made much progress before he heard a howl off in the distance, and his entire body tensed, ready for action.

They’d found something!

Once he pinpointed the source, he was off, dashing through branches and over roots with a surety of stride that had been acquired from a lifetime of running these woods. He didn’t get very far though. He heard it first, a loud symphony of disembodied laughter all around him. Before he could stop and confront whatever it was, he caught a flutter of movement in his periphery, and then, he was flying, thrown through the air by an impact harder than anything in recent memory. He was out cold before he even landed.

(***)

He wasn’t unconscious for long. At least, he didn’t think he was, given that generations of werewolf evolution had refined his healing abilities to the point where he shouldn’t be. But however long it was, it was enough to find himself strapped to a board – or a crude table, perhaps – staring up at the flickering shadows of a stone ceiling. Or a cave? He honestly hated losing time like this and waking up in unexpected places, which, given who he was and where he lived, was an actual occupational hazard.

A whimper somewhere to his left drew his attention just then, and he tilted his head at an uncomfortable angle to take better stock of where he was, and with whom. Just within his field of vision, he could barely make out a small figure sat huddled inside a primitively constructed cage no higher than his hip. A wood fire burned beneath a big vat just a few feet away, thoroughly heating up whatever was inside if the bubbling sound was any indication.

“Hey,” he said quietly, if a little hoarsely, hoping the hunched figure would shift enough into the firelight for him to make out who it was.

The figure shuffled over, and Derek could see the tear-streaked face of a boy, probably no more than eight or nine years old. Stiles had said there’d been attempted kidnappings. It looked like one had succeeded.

“H-hello? You’re awake.”

“Yeah, I am.” He wasn’t good with children, barring the few cousins he’d played with when he was younger, yet that had been different. They’d been family. He knew this kid was scared, could hear it in the tremor of his voice and smell it in the dankness of the air, but he wasn’t sure what he could say to help with that. “I’m Derek. What’s your name?”

“A-Andy.”

“Well, Andy, if you give me a minute, we can get out of here and I’ll take you back to your parents.” He tried to sound reassuring, though he wasn’t sure it worked as well as he’d intended when he was tugging and testing the thick ropes tied around his chest, waist, and legs. They were tight, but he managed to slide a hand free enough to shift and start slicing away at the restraints with his claw.

“Just Mom,” the boy said quietly. “Dad left.”

“Okay, we’re going to find your mom then. I’m sure she’s really missing you right now.” He figured that keeping a calm tone and easy conversation going was as good a plan as any while he worked on the ropes.

Andy shuffled a little in his cage, his face dipping down again into the shadows cast by the nearby fire. “She’s working. She’s always working. She promised I’d get to see Dad, but she couldn’t take me, so I went to find him myself.”

Which might explain why the boy hadn’t been reported missing yet. There was some give to the rope by his right hip, so he tilted his head and tried to look over at the boy and hoped he properly projected the sincerity of his words. “That doesn’t mean she’s not missing you, Andy. I know she’s probably very worried. She – “

The stench assaulted him first, sour and rancid, before he felt the whole space shake with a reverberating thud. Andy quickly scooted back into the corner of his cage with a scared squeak, leaving Derek to turn and search out the source in the dim light. An old woman came into view near the foot of his table, posture bent and face haggard, each of her steps sending tiny shockwaves through the cave. Her long, gray hair hung in a greasy, unkempt mess, framing a crooked nose and a gap-toothed, mirthless grin. She resembled the picture Stiles had shown him on his phone, but the younger man had neglected to mention one thing. She was a fucking giant!

The whole cave suddenly felt cramped, and her looming presence caused his heartrate to spike. He worked faster on his ropes.

“Good dog. You’re too old and gristly for my liking, but if my lads want a pet, a pet they will get,” she said in a voice deeper than he’d expected. She patted his stomach dismissively as she passed, and he fought hard not cry out at the jarring, painful contact. “Now, where’s my little snack? Little boy for a little snack. Little boy snack.” She cackled at her own wit.

He heard Andy whimper again as the old, giant crone ambled her way over to the cage, and he wanted to tell the boy to be brave, to hold on because he was almost through his rope. Yet, as he was about to do just that, he caught the scent of metal and electricity in the air. It cut through the myriad of other unpleasant smells like an olfactory beacon, clear and crisp and a harbinger of something – or someone – familiar. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the arrival of the calvary, even as Andy shrieked when the witch pulled him roughly from the cage and shuffled over to the boiling pot.

Then, several things happened at once. First, voices that sounded like the disembodied laughter he’d heard earlier came from somewhere outside. This time, however, they were shouting out in distress, intermingled with the familiar voices of his pack. The cries gave the witch pause for a split second, just as he cut through the last of his restraints and pulled free. After that, he was up and leaping through the air, aiming to get Andy free of the old woman’s clutches and away from the fire. And he managed just that, wrapping his arms around the boy as he clawed at the large hand that held him. But he underestimated the reaction speed of the crone, and barely managed to turn his body to shield Andy before her other hand swatted his side. He landed with bone-cracking impact against the boiling pot, adrenalin enhancing his movements as he rolled quickly to avoid landing on the fire or getting splattered by the hot liquid in the toppling vat. He was pretty sure he’d probably cracked a few ribs, but they were already healing. Andy seemed none the worse for wear when he looked down, unhurt and safe in his arms still.

“My boys! What are they doing to my boys?” the witch wailed.

Derek tensed briefly, thinking the giantess would take her surprise and anger out on him. He readied himself for a fight, but instead, she turned and marched the other way, he and Andy seemingly forgotten. He eased himself up with a barely suppressed groan, and let the small body pressed against his chest slide down to his lap. He could hear the pack outside, the growls of the wolves and the foreign-sounding chants from Stiles, and he knew that they had it handled.

“You okay?” he asked as he gave Andy a good once-over.

The boy simply nodded, his whole body still trembling. Then, without a word, he leaned forward and hugged Derek as if his life depended on it. Not sure how else to respond, Derek hugged the child back.

That was how Stiles found them a few minutes later when he stumbled clumsily into the cave. After some coaxing, they both managed to talk Andy into finally letting go. Scott took it from there, coming in to take the boy away to find the Sheriff, who had been called to the area when Stiles had triangulated Derek’s location. Stiles waited a moment after Scott had left before he turned and threw himself into Derek’s arms.

“Oh, thank every deity I just prayed to you’re okay. Had me worried.”

Derek squeezed the warm, lithe body clinging to him like an octopus, and bent down to briefly nuzzle his partner’s neck. He breathed in the fortifying scent that was simply Stiles and used it to ground himself after the crazy events that had just happened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m fine.”

“I know. You’re one tough son of a bitch, but the uncertainty always gets me.” Stiles pulled away and gave him a look with those ridiculously wide Bambi-like eyes that made Derek’s insides go warm. “And of course, you would go all superhero and save a child while we saved you. With the way the boy was holding on to you, I thought you’d replaced me with a cuter, newer model.”

Derek quirked up his lip into a lopsided, half-smile. “Never,” he returned easily. “If I did, I would at least try to get a good trade-in price for you.”

“Smartass.” As his comeback, Stiles smacked his arm with the back of his hand. He then slipped said hand into Derek’s, intertwined their fingers, and started walking out of the cave. “See if I ever send baddies back through an intercontinental gate for you again.”

“So, she wasn’t a witch?” Derek asked as he followed Stiles’ lead out of the cave

“Oh, no, she was a witch. The giantess witch, Gryla, and her sons, the Yule Lads. I don’t know how they got here, but I was working off of some quick and dirty research, so the best I could do was track down caves in the area, which is what the literature says she tends to favor, and find a spell to send her back to her native Iceland.”

Derek silently listened as Stiles explained what had happened, both grateful and proud – and not for the first or last time either – at the quick wit and resourcefulness of the guy he got to call his. They eventually emerged from the cave, and he immediately felt lighter the moment he could smell the fresh earth and foliage again. The sun was beginning to set, creating lengthening shadows of the redwoods and the oaks that stood like sentinels around them. And with that came a distinct chill in the air. He felt Stiles shiver at the lower temperature, and wished he’d had his jacket around to offer the other man. The jacket that he’d exchanged for …

With his free hand, he reached into his jeans pocket where he’d tucked the locket earlier, and –

Shit!

Without another thought, he turned and sprinted back into the cave. He quickly scanned the area and did not see the locket anywhere. His eyes then fell on the overturned pot and the still-burning embers of the woodfire. A dash of panic began to taint his actions, but he didn’t stop to quell it. Instead, he rushed over to the dying fire and started digging through the ashes. His hands burned and healed almost simultaneously as he dug desperately through the charred wood, an odd combination of frustration and helplessness clouding his judgement.

“Derek?”

He heard Stiles, but didn’t answer, mainly because his fingers wrapped around a clump of metal just then. He looked down at what used to be Stiles’ mother’s locket, the piece now misshapen by the heat and bearing no resemblance to what it used to be. He dropped the thing, both dejected and angry. This was supposed to be the year. This was supposed to be the Christmas where he would show Stiles how much the younger man meant to him by putting the care and thought into his gift that Stiles had always put into his. But everything… everything had been for nothing.

“Derek? What’s wrong? You okay?” Stiles approached and knelt beside him, looking ready to join him in whatever he was searching for.

He brushed the soot and ash off his hands, shook his head, and stood up. “Nothing. I’m good. Just thought I dropped something but I was wrong. C’mon, let’s go home.”

Puzzled, Stiles stood too, though he didn’t pry, and together, they made their way out of the cave once more, but not before Derek threw one last, longing glance at the pile of ashes.

(***)

“Oh, my god, I’m so stuffed,” Stiles said as he plopped down on the couch and rubbed his belly. “I might have to be rolled off to bed later because there’s no way I’m standing up.”

Derek smiled softly at the younger man’s dramatics, and joined him on the sofa. Christmas dinner had been an intimate one again between just the two of them, with Derek doing most of the preparation, while Stiles had ‘helped’. He didn’t mind though. He enjoyed their time together. The way they fit together, their ease with each other … it had all been hard-won, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. The younger man had chatted animatedly throughout the meal and Derek had let him go on, wanting to prolong the whole thing because, if he was being honest, he was dreading what would happen afterwards: their gift exchange.

“Merry Christmas, Derek,” Stiles said, as if reading his thoughts. He reached over to the end table and grabbed an unevenly wrapped gift.

Derek stared at the thing for a moment, just knowing deep down it would be a typical Stiles present, all special and personal. Why did Stiles even stay with him? He must come across as an unthoughtful, unappreciative jerk. Slowly, he unwrapped the gift, and revealed a collage of artfully arranged photographs. There were trees and flowers and butterflies dancing on sunbeams across open trails. They were beautiful, more so in that Derek recognized where they had been taken: the preserve.

“You sometimes talk about how you grew up in the preserve,” Stiles explained. “How it’s a second home to you, and how you have all those memories with your family there. I know the memories are special, so I went and took some pictures during summer break. I hope these help you remember all those good times.”

Derek blinked away the prickling he felt in his eyes. Stiles may have assumed he was touched by the gift, which was fine. He didn’t need to know what Derek was really feeling. He didn’t need to know that in that moment, he thought Stiles really deserved so much better than him.

“Thank you. It’s perfect,” he choked out. “I – “ He didn’t know how to continue. What else could he say? “My present isn’t –“

He stopped. Stiles looked at him expectantly. Not finding the right words, he leaned over to the coffee table and grabbed the last-minute gift bag he’d filled the day before. “Here.”

He looked away while Stiles eagerly dug into the bag. He knew what was in there, and he didn’t need to see the lackluster reaction the younger man would have at the assortment of Reese’s candies he’d find.

“Oh, this is awesome, Derek!” Stiles exclaimed excitedly. “Holy shit, there’s a half pound peanut butter cup in here! Hello, Heaven!”

Derek felt Stiles’ arms wrap around him in gratitude, but he couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture. The younger man seemed to notice and pulled back. “Derek?”

He turned and took in Stiles’ questioning gaze. He couldn’t do this. They complemented each other so well in everything, but somehow, in this, they were completely mismatched. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked in earnest.

“What?”

“My gifts. Doesn’t it bother you that my gifts are so … so bad. Yours are always so … so perfect.” It felt good to get that off his chest.

Stiles gawked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. “Huh? But I think your gifts are perfect. And that’s not a lie. You can tell, right?”

True, Derek hadn’t heard any change in the other man’s heartrate to indicate otherwise, but no one could like his choice of gifts that much. “I just ... I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you, how much I care about you, the same way to do for me, especially with the gifts you give me. But I can’t seem to do that.” This was uncharted territory for him, this admission. He wasn’t used to revealing his insecurities like this. Yet, this was Stiles he was talking to, he reminded himself. Stiles, who never had any shame in revealing his every failure and weakness, and who gave his trust without fear of being hurt. Derek owed him the same. “I found your mother’s locket,” he finally said. “The one from the album you showed me. I found it, and was going to give it to you, but I lost it when we fought that witch last week. I’m sorry.”

He stared at the coffee table. He stared at the discard wrapping paper of the collage he’d just received. He started at everything but Stiles.

And then, “That’s what you were worried about? Not being able to show me you loved me?” Stiles’ tone was incredulous, and it was enough for Derek to turn his attention to the younger man again. “You’re an idiot, Derek,” Stiles continued. “For the record, your presents are awesome. But that’s not the point. You drive three hours each way to visit me on campus every other weekend. You cook Christmas dinner for us every year. You help me pack for college each fall. You drop everything and meet me in a forest, no questions asked, when I call. You even spent all night picking zombie guts out of my hair. If that doesn’t say ‘love’, I don’t know what does!”

To put an exclamation to his point, Stiles pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. “I love you, Derek Hale, and I know you love me. You don’t need to give me things to show me that. You show me every day in the things you do. And that’s more than enough.”

Derek looked at the man sitting beside him, stunned and at a loss. “I –“

“It’s more than enough,” Stiles re-stated firmly. “Now, stop your self-flagellation, and show me how much you appreciate my gift by kissing me.”

Stiles pulled him in again, and this time, Derek did put everything he had into that kiss because the weight of those heartfelt words were slowly sinking in. He loved Stiles. And Stiles … Stiles knew that. He groaned in appreciation at the true gift he’d been given as he pushed the younger man down onto his back, bracing his weight on his arms as he ground their hips together. Fuck it, he felt like he’d really won the lottery in finding Stiles … because Stiles was right, he realized as he deepened their kiss, tasting and teasing the smart, sarcastic, and silly man beneath him.

This … This was more than enough.

#obsessedbutonline #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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Are there any hobbies you have that you don’t perform in front of others? I like to do stuff like surveys, reading, coloring, scrolling through Tumblr, and watching YouTube videos by myself.

What’s one bad or inconvenient habit you used to have but no longer do? I can’t think of a bad habit I used to have, I still have plenty of them.

Do you find it difficult to kick a habit or a routine that’s detrimental? Yes.

When was the last time you had a particularly hectic day? My Disneyland vacation last year. I love Disneyland and had a good time, but the traveling part and spending all day at the park going all over the place is quite exhausting for me. That’s a lot of activity for me. Not to mention all. the. people.

Where’s one place you’ve spent a lot of time lately? I spend like all my time at home except for my once a month doctor appointment.

Is there anywhere you wish you could spend more time? I wish I could go on more vacations.

What do you do when you simply don’t know what to do? There are definitely days where I’m just really bored and my usual go-tos don’t cut it for me and the day just seems to draaag, but I end up still doing those things or mindlessly watching TV cause I don’t know what else to do. Or just take a nap.

When was the last time you felt you were in an impossible situation where, despite what you did, you couldn’t win? I’ve felt that way these past few years with health related things and other stuff in my life.

How did you find out about your current favorite band? I don’t have like a new current favorite.

Where are you most likely to go when you need clothing? Majority of my clothes are from Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

Is anything significant weighing on your mood right now? The usual stuff.

When was the last time you tried to do something yet failed? I feel like I’m just failing at life in general.

Do you think your life is comprised more of success or failure? Failure.

What’s one personality trait that’s not strong in you? Ambition.

Are you a difficult individual to get to know? I wouldn’t have said that a few years ago, but I would now. Well, unless you’re a follower of my surveys. I’m definitely not this open in person. Not that I was before, but what I think would make it more difficult now is the fact that I’m just so distant and withdrawn and have really just kept to myself the past few years. I’ve holed up at home and haven’t had an interest in socializing.

When was the last time you opened up to someone and about what? I open up in surveys all the time.

To whom do you feel the most important? My parents and brother.

When was the last time you changed your mind? Hm. It was probably recently, but I don’t remember right now.

Is there something you want but might not ever have? Better health.

What’s something you’re working to obtain? Nothing. That’s the problem. :/

How do you console yourself when you’re distraught? I cry and then try to distract myself.

Do you tend to enjoy your dreams? My dreams are just super random and weird a lot of the time.

What would you do if you did not require sleep? Gah. I’m glad we do cause I have no idea. There are days that just seem to drag and I want it to end and sleep is a great escape and passerby, so yeah I’m glad we require sleep. I need that time to escape myself and stuff for awhile.

Are there any projects or goals you’ve recently abandoned? I did that a few years ago and still haven’t gotten back on track.

What in life serves to keep you going? My family.

How frequently, if ever, do you want to give up? I feel that way often.

What was the last good news you received? Uhhh.

What’re some of the important things around you? My family, which includes my doggo.

How long has your favorite song been your favorite? I have numerous favorites.

In what ways does music influence your life? It doesn’t, really. Especially lately. I don’t listen to music much anymore like I used to. It’s weird.

Are you more inclined to appreciate sweet or savory foods? Savory. Lately I’ve had a serious sweet tooth, though. I’ve been eating sweet stuff a lot more often recently.

Do you prefer more hot or cold types of food? Hot.

How about hot or cold types of beverages? Hot and room temp.

Who last told you to do something and did you do it? My mom asked me to grab her something on my way by it in the kitchen and I did.

Have you ever felt as though you were unrecognizable to yourself? That’s how I’ve felt the past few years. I don’t know who this person is I’ve become, but I don’t like it.

Are you bothered by any of your physical features? Yeah, all of them.

Are romantic relationships important to you at this point in your life? No.

Who was the last person to apologize to you for something they did? I don’t recall.

Bruises and cuts everywhere? No.

Have you ever kissed someone with a tattoo? Nope.

What did you do today? So far I’ve just watched a few YouTube videos, scrolled through Tumblr, and currently I’m watching Sister, Sister on Netflix and doing surveys.

What did you do last night? Had dinner and watched the first two episodes of Wandavision and an episode of Dare Me with my mom and brother.

Last night, you felt? Alright.

Will you regret your next kiss? I hope not?

Ever had a guy best friend? Yeah, a few.

Is there a movie you’ve seen countless times? Yeah, several.

Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with? No.

How is your last ex doing? I don’t know. I haven’t seen or talked to him in almost 5 years and he’s not active on social media.

Are you wearing a necklace, who got it for you? Nope. Is there someone who can always make you smile? My doggo.

Are you excited for anything? No.

Anything you’d like to say to your ex? Nah, I’m good.

Do you give up easily? I’ve given up in a lot of ways over the past few years. :/

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Not of the romantic kind.

Did you deny or accept your last friend request? Deny. It was some random person and I only accept people I know.

Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight? No.

Are any of your friends taller than you?

How much money did you spend today? Zero as of now. I don’t plan on spending any money today.

Are you shy? Yepppp.

Are you completely over the last person you kissed? Yes.

Ever given your ALL to someone? Yes.

Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? That is how I feel.

Last thing you had to drink? Water.

Do you ever just lay on the carpet in your house? No. I don’t find sitting or lying on the floor comfortable at all.

Do you prefer ice or no ice in your drinks typically? No ice.

Are you a lazy ass sometimes? Yes.

What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done lately? Nothing recent comes to mind.

Do you ‘think out loud’? Yeah, I do that a lot.

Do you take gummy vitamins? I used to. If I took my vitamins like I’m supposed to that’s the kind I would take.

How do you know the majority of the people you know? They’re my family.

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? Nope.

Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Yes.

Do you use Google? Yeah, all the time.

Would you like to go swimming right now? No. It’s wintertime for one, but I don’t like swimming anyway so it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t.

Can you play electric guitar? No.

Do you have an HDTV? Yeah, I have a smart TV.

When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Just a bit ago. I always use a straw with my drinks.

Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? Yes.

How long was your last phone call? Like a minute.

Do you need to repaint your nails? I have’t painted my nails in years.

Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Possibly. I never followed that stuff closely or actually believed in them, I used to just read them for fun when I was younger.

Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? No.

Do you have a wall calendar? I do.

Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I kept a giraffe photo from an old calendar and hung it up in my room.

Can you handle the cold? A lot better than I can handle the heat.

Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.

When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? Several years ago while on a trip with a friend. It was before the days of Uber and Lyft.

Would you ever join the army, air force or navy? No. I couldn’t even if I wanted to because of my physical disability.

How old is the person you last kissed? He just turned 30.

Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? My mom.

Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? Yeah, haha.

Do you believe in ghosts/supernatural occurrences? I believe in spirits.

What was the most expensive thing you’ve broken? A laptop.

Has anyone texted you yet today? Nope.

Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? No, I was really scared about catching it. It’s crazy cause now looking back it wasn’t even close to the seriousness of COVID and how easily its spread.

Is there a light on in the room you’re currently in? Yes.

Are your feet touching the floor? No, I’m sitting on my bed.

Have you ever been in a car accident? No, thankfully.

Can you focus well in high-stress situations? No. I get very overwhelmed and frazzled.

Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? No.

Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? No. I don’t turn to music when I’m upset.

Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? Yes.

Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless?

Is there anyone you dread going into public with? No. I dread going out in public myself cause I feel I’m trash and I’m super self-conscious.

Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? It happens sometimes in a survey when I’m really going off in a rant or I’m rambling about something.

Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? It can be both, it depends where it’s done and the purpose of it.

Do you buy things online? I do a lot of online shopping.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years ago

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Under His Spell

Title: Under His Spell Pairing: Taron x reader Rating: M Warnings: Smut [fingering, unprotected sex] A/N: Wanted to write a fun little one-shot for Halloween. I’m a couple days late but who’s counting? Halloween never really has to end! There are no tricks, only treats for you in this sexy one shot, so enjoy! x

October 31: Your favorite day of the year. A day full of tricks and treats and pranks and spooks, where people let themselves have a little fun. All Hallow’s Eve wasn’t just for little kids, and everyone usually tried to get in the spirit somehow, whether it was just wearing a fun T-shirt or accessory at work or donning a full-on costume, decked out to the nines at a party. Either way, you loved sharing in the spirit of the day, and this year was no exception.

In fact, you were incredibly excited because this year you’d been invited to a somewhat exclusive masquerade costume party. Your job as an executive assistant meant you had worked for someone who knew someone, and you were pretty sure there might even be some celebrities in the mix at the event. You wondered if you’d be able to recognize them by their voice and mannerisms; it would be a fun night trying to guess. You had also spent a lot of time and money on your costume and were sure it would be a hit, so you were looking forward to the evening even if you’d have to schmooze with your boss.

As soon as you got home from work, you scarfed the Chinese takeout you’d picked up, stuffing noodles in your mouth even as you plugged your curling iron in, letting it heat up while you ate. You didn’t have much time to get ready, and you wanted everything to be perfect, from your hair to the makeup to the mask you’d spent many hours with a glue gun creating. The rhinestones had been a bitch to work with, but oh so worth it.

You finished your food and quickly curled your hair and did your makeup before carefully pulling on your stockings, boots and the dress you’d designed and sewn, inspired by Christine Daaé from the “Phantom of the Opera.” After graduating from college with a fashion degree, you’d found it difficult to break into the scene so you mostly used your skills for Halloween costumes while working as a personal assistant for your boss and his contingent of clients. You really didn’t mind that work; the pay was fantastic and the work relatively easy. Maybe someday you’d design and try to sell an entire collection to the fashion houses, but for now this sort of work paid the bills.

You affixed the mask on your face and took a look at yourself in the mirror; you were hardly recognizable as yourself. The bra you’d bought specifically for this costume gave you decolletage you normally didn’t have, and the dress was rather plunging though you’d sewn in a nude mesh panel to keep something to the imagination, but the slit along the side also went all the way up your thigh. It was sexy but tasteful, and that’s how you hoped to come across that evening.

You deemed yourself as ready as you’d ever be, took a couple of photos and texted them to your best friend for approval, and walked outside immediately to be blasted with a gust of cold air. “Nope!” you squealed, running back in and grabbing your winter jacket and gloves. You were just going to have to deal with your winter gear; it was far too cold to go bare-shouldered.

You took the tube across London, and many people were dressed up; you were pretty sure you spied a banana, a taco, and a handful of Spice Girls. No one else seemed to bat an eyelash, and you spent the ride across the city texting back and forth with your best friend, who had squealed at how gorgeous you looked. You normally spent your days in work slacks or leggings, but today you actually did feel pretty, and wondered if you’d catch anyone’s eye tonight. Not that you were necessarily looking for a hookup, but what happened on Halloween night, stayed on Halloween night.

You were actually feeling nervous by the time you reached your tube stop, and you followed the Google directions to the proper street, gasping at the size of the house; well, really it looked like a mansion to you. Whoever was throwing this party was exceedingly rich, and you almost turned away before someone you presumed was a valet approached you and escorted you inside. They led you to the coat check and you marveled at the architecture of the entrance hall alone, mesmerized by the place, which was decorated to the nines. You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Christmas; these were the kind of people who probably paid for it to be decorated for literally every holiday and season.

You wandered in amongst the crowd, most people already paired off in the groups they arrived with, and you quickly acquired a flute of champagne from one of the trays being carried about by servers. You knew what your boss was wearing, as he’d made sure you could find him, but you weren’t tall and so you had to weave yourself in and around people chatting animatedly, avoiding random flailing arm and stepping around already-tipsy masked men and women. The place was dripping in decadence and you felt slightly out of place, to be honest.

Suddenly a man swayed into your path and you jumped back in order to keep him from knocking you over, but you had backed into someone else on accident behind you. You spun around quickly to apologize, feeling embarrassed, but the apology died on your lips as you took in the costumed man in front of you.

“Ahhh, my Christine, I’ve been looking all over for you!” he grinned congenially, making your heart skip a few beats. The suit and cape he was wearing were sharp and fit his body well but that’s not what you noticed first. His green eyes peered out at you from behind a Phantom mask, but it had been done in an inventive way so the whole face was covered; the part that wasn’t white was done in glittery black. You had no idea who was behind that mask, but his smile was charming as hell.

“I, um, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Phantom,” you stumbled over your words as his eyes fairly twinkled at you, sweeping over your body and somehow making you feel exposed.

“The pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, taking your hand so gently in his and placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “What’s a Phantom after all without his muse?” he asked, his voice somehow familiar to you even though you couldn’t place it. You weren’t even sure how to respond when someone put their hands on your shoulders from behind.

“There you are! Glad you could make it!” your boss said as you whirled around a bit.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” you replied with a laugh, turning to say something to the Phantom but he had already melted back into the crowd, like mist in the wind. You frowned slightly to yourself but hoped you’d run into each other again, and then followed your boss back over to his group, sipping your champagne and having small conversations with people he introduced you to, people whose names you wouldn’t remember after tonight.

You did have a fun time despite yourself, snacking on hors d’oeuvres and imbibing even more champagne, feeling a bit tipsy and also trying to catch further glimpses of the Phantom, but he was proving to be quite elusive as the evening wore on. Your boss was kind and engaging with you, but at some point got suckered into a conversation about stocks and bonds and you were entirely bored to death, so you quietly slipped away from the conversation, taking a self-led tour of the place and snapping a couple of pictures to send your friend.

<Can you believe this place?> you texted, standing next to some kind of pumpkin display, festooned in black and orange and purple lights and ribbons and cobwebs.

“What’s a lovely woman such as yourself doing standing here all alone?” a voice asked you, and you turned around to find yourself face-to-face with the unidentified phantom again.

“I was looking for you!” you said in surprise, before you could think better of it.

“Were you?” he asked, and even if you couldn’t see his face, you could imagine him quirking his eyebrow up to match the crooked smile he gave you.

“Not for any particular reason,” you said, fidgeting with the sleeves of your dress slightly.

“Well, that’s too bad. I thought it’d be nice to get to know you better,” he said, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, a dark brown liquid swirling inside.

“Oh, I thought that too,” you said, almost shyly as he leaned in quite close to you. You were a bit overwhelmed with how beautiful he was, even though you could only see half his face. You resisted the urge to reach out and run your fingers along his sharp jawline; you were tipsy but not so drunk as to just randomly touch a man you didn’t even know. Still, the way he was staring at you made a thrill run down your spine.

“So what brought you here tonight?” he asked casually, both of you quite forgotten by the rest of the crowd in the little alcove you were standing in.

“Oh, I work for someone who was invited and I’m an exec assistant so I guess he just decided I should come along,” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“I … work in the entertainment business,” he hedged slightly.

“What kind of answer is that?” you laughed. “That could be anything at all.”

“Would you like to tour this house?” he asked suddenly, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his drink.

“Uh, sure,” you replied.

“Alright good, stay right here,” he said, squeezing your hand slightly before disappearing into the crowd again for a minute. You were confused but obliged, and when he returned he had two cold longnecks in his hands.

“Ahhh, good idea,” you laughed as he handed one off to you and you took a sip of the beer, which was surprisingly just a regular pedestrian brand. You giggled slightly as he took your hand again and led you toward the grand staircase.

“You sure we’re allowed?” you asked, and he just shrugged as you both nearly tripped on your dress on your way up the stairs, giggling and slightly out of breath when you reached the landing. It was much quieter up here, and you hadn’t realized how much the music had been making your head dizzy. Or maybe it was the alcohol you’d consumed. Or maybe just the close proximity of this handsome stranger beside you.

Either way, you followed after him, examining the massive paintings hanging on the walls along the plush carpeted hallway. “Imagine having so much excessive wealth that you could have a house like this. It’s practically like living in a museum,” he sighed. So definitely not rich then, you thought to yourself. Maybe some kind of production assistant? You were still trying to puzzle out who he was, still troubled by the fact that he seemed somehow familiar. But you were quite certain if you had known him from before, you would have recognized him immediately.

“What’s in here?” he said, just randomly opening doors, and you were mostly just amused at his antics. He was clearly way past drunk, but you were enjoying being in this space with him too much to point it out.

“Hey look, a study,” he said, pointing at it before pulling you inside and letting the door shut behind you. He searched for a desk lamp and found one, turning it on and illuminating the deep cherry wood paneling and burgundy carpet.

“Damn,” you commented. “Pretty sure this room alone is more expensive than anything I’ll ever own in my lifetime,” you laughed.

“Definitely more bougie than anything I’d ever own,” he chuckled as you walked around, checking out titles on the bookshelves.

“Must be a lawyer. That would make sense,” you said as you ran your finger over the spines of the books before turning around and finding him standing right next to you, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher thanks to the mask. He hesitantly reached out and then swept a lock of your hair off your shoulder, tilting his head and gazing at you.

“I’d quite like to kiss you,” he said, his voice a bit rough, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Okay,” you said, not even knowing why you had agreed, but something told you you wouldn’t be regretting it. He stepped in close, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it didn’t bother you at all. He placed a hand at the nape of your neck and after hesitating a moment more, finally pressed his lips to yours. You had no idea who he was, but damn could he kiss like no one else. You felt like you’d suddenly tapped into a live wire as one kiss turned into another and into another. It was like neither of you could get enough of each other, and suddenly his tongue was dancing in your mouth with yours, setting your body alight as the kisses deepened into something much more needy. When you both had to come up for air, he looked a bit taken aback with his actions, but all you wanted was more.

“I’m terribly sorry, I… I’m not exactly the kind of guy to just kiss random ladies in random places,” he said, but you shook your head.

“Tonight’s a night for mystery and mayhem. If there’s any better night to find that, well, I’m glad I’ve found it with you,” you smirked lightly at him. His hesitation was sweet and kind of adorable, but all you could focus on was the insistent throbbing between your legs that he had awakened.

“Mystery and mayhem, yeah?” he chuckled, taking a long drag of his beer before setting it down on the edge of the desk. You walked up to him and pushed him up against the desk lightly, peering into those green eyes, seeing the evident lust there.

“No one else here but just the two of us. Perhaps the phantom would like to live out his fantasy with Christine after all?” you smirked. You’d never really come onto a guy before like this, but something about the masks made you brave. You could walk away from this never knowing each other, and it would be nothing more than a drunken memory. You saw him swallow hard, his green eyes wrestling with something for a moment, but he must have decided “fuck it” because he suddenly wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you into him, attacking you with fierce kisses that took your breath away.

You moaned slightly into his mouth as his fingers grazed over your bare shoulders, goosebumps already standing out on your skin as he dropped his kisses to our neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, those velvety smooth lips leaving fire along your skin. He turned you both around until you were the one leaning against the desk, and his hands had found the thigh-high slit in your dress, pushing the material aside and seeking purchase even as he trailed kisses over your chest, yanking the bodice of your dress low but not completely undressing you.

When his fingers found your aching, wet core, he let out a strangled sound to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath that dress. You groaned at the touch of his fingers over your folds, dragging your juices over your sensitive nub even as he captured your lips in kisses again. You were completely at a loss for what he was doing to you, your head thrown back in ecstasy; it was almost as if he’d put you under a spell, a sexy one at that, and you were helpless to break it.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he slid two fingers into you, your fingers gripping his biceps for support as he started to pump them in and out of you slowly.

“You are so fucking hot,” he groaned, his voice deep and gravelly and full of lust for you. “I thought it the minute I saw you across the room. Never thought I’d get to have my way with you,” he growled, nipping your skin with his teeth.

“Oh god,” you gasped, trying to hold on but you could feel your muscles clenching, the spiral of your orgasm threatening to unravel. Suddenly he pulled his fingers away, leaving you wanting and desperate for more. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked your arousal from them, and you nearly came at the sight of that alone.

You immediately reached for the belt of his pants, undoing it quickly and then fumbling with the zipper before pulling them down, desperately needing more. He lifted you up slightly until you were sitting on the desk, then laying you down before lifting your skirt up and over your hips, spreading your legs wide. You whined in anticipation as he took his cock out of his briefs, stroking himself a few times before lining up with you and thrusting into you with abandon. You cried out, but it was more pleasure than pain as he filled you up completely, leaning over you and panting in your face.

“Fuck, darling,” he groaned, his hands splayed out on either side of you as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him in even closer. He took the hint and started pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the empty room. You tried to muffle your moans and groans but it was hard to do with this mystery man driving you absolutely insane. “That’s music to my ears, baby,” he spoke gruffly, his fingertips digging into your skin but you could care less. It was probably the hottest, craziest sex of your life, getting down to dirty business with a masked stranger in someone else’s house.

You didn’t even have time to reply as you started to cum around his length, your walls contracting around him, your entire body shaking as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. He soon spilled over into you, grunting as his cock twitched inside you and sent your entire world spinning. He pulled out quickly and looked around for something to clean you both up with, finding a packet of tissues in one of the desk drawers. You both quickly tried to put your clothes right again, giggling slightly together in your mutual drunk, post-sex haze.

“Do I...thank you now?” he chuckled, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair and messing it up a bit.

“You don’t need to say anything at all. Just shut up and look pretty,” you giggled at his bemused expression. You reached over to smooth his hair back down and in a rare stroke of courage, slipped your fingers under the band holding his mask on and yanked it off his face. Your hands flew to your mouth and you gasped as you instantly recognized the man who had just fucked you into oblivion as none other than the Taron Egerton.

“Oh fuck,” you said, unable to tear your eyes away from him, as you’d had a crush on him for an embarrassingly long time. Your brain couldn’t even reconcile what you’d just done with him and the fact that he was standing there in front of you. If this got around, if anyone ever found out, you’d be completely scandalized. You could never live this down, you could never tell anyone. You felt suddenly, painfully sober as you hopped off the desk and pushed him away from you, ignoring his confused, hurt expression.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” you gasped, turning and fleeing out of the room, chastising yourself angrily even though there was no way you could have known it was him. But hadn’t you recognized that sexy voice, that sharp jawline, those sweet eyes? How had you not put it all together?

“Wait!” he called down the hallway as you headed for the stairs, hoping all of your body parts were covered. You tore down the steps two at a time and grabbed your coat from the coat check. A few people threw glances at your haste but didn’t try to stop you. You threw your coat on, glancing over your shoulder to see Taron descending down the stairs after you, but you already had a head start. You pushed your way out of the doors and into the cold night air, fleeing down even more stairs as one of the valets yelled out “Have a good night, miss!” You were fighting tears that were blurring your vision and two steps before the sidewalk you managed to trip on your dress, missing the last step and scraping your knee as you fell to the concrete. The fall had knocked the breath out of your lungs and you laid there for a moment, staring up at the dark, cloudy sky, blinded by the lights of the mansion.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Taron asked, kneeling down next to you and helping you sit up.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing off your hands, your teeth already chattering from the bite of the air.

“Why did you run away from me?” he asked you, his eyes searching yours for some answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“I’m not some amazing actress or pretty woman you should be with. I’m just a nobody and… I’m not good enough to be with you,” you said, pulling the edges of your coat around you and staring at the blood welling up from the scrape on your knee.

“That’s bloody nonsense. You already told me who you were and I still chose to be with you. It’s not about money or fame or looks for me. You intrigued the hell out of me,” he said, gently removing the mask from my face and gazing at me fully. “ And you are absolutely beautiful, and I sure as fuck don’t regret what just happened back there,” he added softly. “But let’s get you back inside, and clean that up, and warm you up, and then you can tell me your name, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but nod at that; the way he was looking at you sent shivers of a different sort down your spine. He helped you limp back up the stairs and after making you sit on the toilet in the bathroom [which was as extravagant as every other part of the mansion], he went in search of some bandaids and returned after being successful, doctoring your knee up to the best of his ability. He’d also brought you a bottle of water and you took it gratefully when he handed it to you. “Y/n,” you said, as he took a seat on the edge of the tub. “My name is y/n.”

“Taron, but you already knew that,” he said, smiling at you a bit sheepishly. “And I really don’t do that, you know,” he said.

“I really don’t either, Taron. This was supposed to be no strings attached. I could walk away never knowing who you were.”

“But do you want to walk away, now that you know it’s me?” he asked quietly, looking vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. It was almost like he’d grown attached to you somehow, but neither of you really knew each other, and that was the startling reality of it.

“I don’t, but where the hell would we go from here?” you asked, watching as a wicked grin spread over his face.

“My place, for starters. We could certainly get to know each other better,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you couldn’t deny the excitement rising in your chest at the thought of that. “I might have more tricks and treats up my sleeves after all,” he said with a smirk, his eyes burning into you a bit. “So should we leave and see what else the night has in store for our long-lost lovers?” he said, his words tugging at your heart yet again. You were at his total mercy, it seemed, caught up in the spell of this green-eyed man who was no longer just a stranger.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said as he reached out his hand to you. You placed yours gently in his and let him escort you out of the bathroom. You had to laugh when the song being pumped through the sound system was appropriately “Music of the Night,” part of whatever spooky playlist someone had put together. The mood was fitting as you swept back out into the night, the cold wind making the edges of Taron’s cape flutter around you both. You would never have guessed when you’d chosen this costume that you would have been caught up in the magic and madness of the night.

But one thing that night was for certain; Taron had taken possession of your soul, and you were completely at his mercy. He was sweetly intoxicating, more than just a face behind a mask, and the best part was that he was all yours.

#taron smut #taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron fanfiction

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elleselanguitsansfin · 4 years ago

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Things to do in quarantine you might not have thought of

- Clean/polish your shoes, takes up to five minutes max - Go through any craft kits you might have lying around - Learn to press flowers, takes about a week - Write short/long stories from online writing prompts - Learn a song in a different language - If there is an instrument in your house you don’t know how to play, teach yourself a song (or make up your own!) - Draw out plans for your dream home - Purge your closet, desk, anywhere you keep things - Write letters to people of things you’d never say and then never send them - Try listening to new artists - Make food from a foreign country you’ve never tried before - Name all your plants (mine are Sylvester, Chloë, Tiffany, Jelli, Jenny, Jessie and Juniper) - Organize your files on your computer/laptop and Google Drive (if any) - Learn a foreign alphabet, for example Korean, Russian or Greek - Get in contact with a family member you haven’t talked to in a while - Become pen friends with someone in a foreign country using an app like HelloTalk - Learn pointless words (I am a sesquipedalian logophile who uses words like pneumonoultramiscroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis to torment those with hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia) - Eat a variety of cheese like Gruyere, Camembert and Gouda and drink wine (or grape juice if you’re underage like me) while pretending you’re in Paris or Rome - Draw on your face with eyeliner - Replace that one light bulb that you haven’t gotten round to yet - Learn about a religion you’re not part of (we’ve been looking at Islam, Judaism and Christianity in my history class at the moment and as a Christian I am finding this VERY interesting) - Go through Goodreads or something and make a list of books to read - Browse through your old exercise books (if you keep them) and make fun of your old self - Pick a random household product, for example dish wash liquid. Figure out how to make it better - Paint a friend via video chat or have them paint you - Use a video editor and edit a kids TV show for fun - Make a plant book containing information about all the different plants in your garden (their names, scientific names, soil/water/lighting preferences, etc) - Invent a new species of animal (on pen and paper) - Make your school notes ~pretty~ - Learn to name all the countries, capitals and flags of the world Short intermission in the middle of this post to let you know I just finished eating lunch and I ate way too much and now I feel sick - Make a wishlist - Dress up everyday even though you’re not going anywhere - Organize your cleaning supplies - Learn how something works (for example, a motherboard. That stuff baffles me) - Replenish tape dispensers and staplers throughout your house - Change the letters on the signboard in your room (if you have one) - Pick out new profile pictures, wallpapers, etc - Go through your candles and burn some you haven’t before Intermission 2.0 because I’m trying to join my History class meeting and it’s not working, are you kidding me- never mind it’s working now - Make jewelry - Become a master photo editor/photoshopper - Watch ice skating (I like Evgenia Medvedeva! Her Sailor Moon performance was so cute!) - If you’re into k-pop, stan a new group (I’d like to get more into MAMAMOO or ATEEZ) - Donate online, there are plenty of organizations that need your help (for example, the Red Cross for Lebanon is providing aid after the devastating explosion in Beirut). Remember to be careful about where you send your money, however, there are some organizations that use the money for themselves - Support writers online - Play Just Dance (let me know if you beat my high score, it’s 12,808 for Con Altura!) - Romanticize things

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exobyharu · 5 years ago

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PCY - Ch7

I just googled this gif and dug real deep. I’m sorry idk who the owner is :(

Chapter 7 - How many kittens?

(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6)

Summary: PCY obsesses, Junmyeon is suspicious, Jongdae is loud, and you’re not answering your phone. PCY’s sister discovers that you’re her cousin as of today.

⏰ 8:14 PM 🌏 SM Entertainment headquarters 🌝12 It’s a full moon and maybe that’s why 👥 YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongin, Kim Jongdae, Park Yoora

Notes: The series is not dead! I’m sorry to those waiting. Update soon! Happy Holidays!

Words: ~1,500

💙💙💙

“Biscotti Girl in the pictures… @real__pcy’s dear cousin is so popular! #chanyeol #biscotti #celebritti #confetti #spaghetti”

There were a hundred thousand retweets in eight hours. Where did Baekyun say he was going again? Because Chanyeol was thinking of tossing that jackhole’s damned phone into the trash, right after pushing its owner down the stairs first.

He was no longer summoned to the main office and that was something to be thankful for. But here he was, stuck in a random conference room, all by himself, and analyzing every possible way to get you out of the highly inconvenient picture that he’d put together to save his ass. He could not reach you – you were not picking up – and frankly, it was not your obligation to do so. This had you, leaving him staring out into a picture window that overlooked the busy boulevard outside.

There was only one word he could think of whenever he thought of you, and that was intensity. With you, he would always find himself in an intense argument or stuck in an intensely problematic situation, and without you, he would be just like he was right now – bothered by such intensities, all the while, intensely worried about what to do with himself and his thoughts.

Not cool, YN. Not cool.

He just wanted to fix things, but the last look he got from you made it painfully obvious that he achieved the exact opposite. You were avoiding him, and maybe it was for the better. Besides, there seemed to be nothing else he could do but pray for everyone to let the incident go. He hoped that you at least liked the free haircut from his stylist, as much as he hoped that it did the job in keeping your identity further from discovery.

He could not get it out of his mind. One problem that still bothered him was how you would keep yourself from being discovered, especially since the photographs had almost half of your face displayed to the public. What if your friends saw the photographs? And co-workers? Would you lie about being his cousin, too? How would you lie to your family about that?

And then there was the question about the flowers. He sent you, his alleged cousin, ten dozens of pink roses. What kind of distant cousin does that? Chanyeol’s lack of an alibi frustrated him, the only silver lining being: at least the roses weren’t red.

He was abruptly reminded of the way Junmyeon’s eye kept twitching as he told him about you. Their leader was suspicious and that was an understatement. He also knew that even Yixing’s brief DM asking how are you? was him, lowkey asking what the hell is going on? The odds were certainly against him. Even Sehun was giving him the stink eye.

Along with his own self-doubt, he decided to head out. Maybe a short walk and some fresh city air would make his worries lessen.

It did not.

A couple of hours later, the sight of the rest of EXO’s members gathered for a company-catered dinner was not comforting to see. Standing by the door, he looked around and caught a few staff members sharing a small table in the far corner of the conference room. This was in celebration of what again? The thought passed him by as soon as he saw, gathered at the center table, were all of the questioning faces that he least wanted to entertain.

Seven handsome faces, one whose perfect teeth Chanyeol wanted to punch in. His pal, Baekhyun, always finding creative ways to fuck things up for fun. When he met his eyes, the singer even had this insufferable are you proud of me look, written all over his face. He thought that it was time for this little shit to say his prayers because he was going to dig a–

“CHANYEOL-AH! COME BY TO FINALLY TELL US ABOUT YOUR COUSIN?”

In slow motion, Chanyeol’s head turned to face the owner of the voice that came from the opposite side of the table. The thing about Jongdae is that he is, ninety percent of the time, blamelessly loud. But the fact that he had to be among the most sincere people that he knew made it impossible to hate the guy. Consequently, it made it even more painfully annoying for Chanyeol. How thoughtful of Jongdae to put it out there just like that. Certainly what he needed right now was to be greeted by an ever-cheerful face when all he wanted was to brood over dinner.

Fuck this.

He left the room immediately.

Universe, one point. Chanyeol, zero.

And still no answer from you. He deserved this, he supposed. It was funny how one little mistake led to consequences that were way out of proportion. He realized that it was only actually funny until he was in trouble.

He took the stairs back to the third floor and to the conference room where you waited for him earlier that day. It was the same venue that Junmyeon eventually chose to broadcast live. Chanyeol’s cameos finally proved useful. Who knew that acting would end up actually saving his life one day?

“Yah! Cut it out! She’s just my cousin!” He remembered how his insides churned with his twisted lie. It was Junmyeon’s idea to hold a live stream with Jongin, and fish for comments so they could appear to address the issue incidentally in front of thousands of online viewers. They did not have to wait long. Ninety percent of the comments were downright all about it.

“You heard it. So what is everyone going crazy about, hm?” their leader teased, while Jongin in the background was bouncing on his seat, trying to contain his bout of giggles because of a pun he could not wait to deliver.

“It’s called Obsession, Hyung! Right? They’re obsessed!!”

That, along with other horrible puns from Jongin, happened in this room. He found himself glaring at the huge wall clock and wondering what you were doing at eight in the evening. It had been eight hours since you left. It did not sit well with him to not know how you were. Neither was it clear to him why it mattered so much – why you mattered so much. You were too quick to drop him, and he ought to do the same.

And yet… He clenched his teeth – a form of self-reprimand – while reminding himself what he was made of.

Determination. He was made of determination.

And he was going to have a method to this insanity: He was going to give himself one night of being a slave to his foolishness. Tomorrow, he was going to stop thinking about you. And screw the song. He was going to write another one. So he did not have single output after being away for a couple of weeks. It was no big deal. At this point, what was the worst that could happen?

In the middle of counting today’s misfortunes, his phone finally rang. He nearly dropped it when he frantically fished it out from his pocket. His hopes declared that it had to be you. His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw that it was not.

It was not the call he had been waiting for. In fact, in that moment, he realized that it was the call he dreaded most to receive.

It was his older sister.

“A little bird told me something today,” she started in a singsong voice. As if they were still children, she used the same tone to this day whenever she had something that she could use as leverage against him.

Chanyeol pressed his face to his palms. Of course. He ought to worry about his own family first. He was no stranger to his sister’s ways. This was going to be a brief, but exhausting conversation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, which made it plenty obvious that he knew exactly what she was talking about. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, though. This one’s just her classic style of interrogation.

“I’m talking about Biscotti Girl, of course. Or are you going to tell me that the guy in the photos isn’t you?”

How he wished he could tell her that and mean it. He told her anyway. “The guy in the photos isn’t me,” he copied sheepishly. She knew that he was begging her to let him be.

“It’s okay, little brother. You can talk to me anytime, okay? Trust me. I can understand girls better than you.” Again, this was her line whenever she thought he was having girl problems.

“It’s not what you think,” he reasoned. But she was not listening.

“I just wish that sometimes, you’d send me some flowers too.”

“Ya! I said it’s not even like that!”

“But don’t worry. I’m always on your side.”

“Would you listen to me?!”

She would not. “Consider it my apology for crashing your car. I love you!”

After finishing what seemed like a monologue, she ended the call without hearing him out at all. Younger brothers were supposed to annoy their older sisters. How many kittens did he leave in the rain in his past life to deserve the opposite?

💙💙💙 - to be continued -

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenario #park chanyeol #exo scenario #exo #park chanyeol scenario #exo fanfiction #kpop scenario

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hopesong7 · 5 years ago

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LENS Ch.3

Summary: Sometimes, the universe aligns, and you make friends with a stranger. Sometimes, that stranger is actually multiple people and life just got a bit more interesting.

Genre(s): Fluff, Comedy, lil bit of Angst (Maybe)

Contains: Things that make me feel fuzzy, photography, social media, things I know nothing about but have googled extensively, and the power of friendship.

Word Count: 1271

Note: Hello, yes, the other boys are (sort of) introduced. Yoongi is a mood, and Twitter is a thing. (For like 5 seconds, and it’s all Tae’s fault)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In hindsight, dubbing someone - a stranger no less - the God of Destruction was maybe a mistake.

On the bright side, Tae had absolutely lost it beside you, wheezing with laughter.

“Tae?” The confusion on the other end was palpable, and doing absolutely nothing for your nerves. The regret you felt made your face glow pink. You gave the laughing boy beside you a glance full of desperation.

“What do I say,” you hissed. Taehyung halted his laughter to stare at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think this far,” you defended. You hadn’t thought much past answering the phone if you were honest. Greeting the person on the other end with Taehyung’s name for them was as far as you’d gotten. He shrugged, motioning for you to give him the phone.

“Hey, Hyung,” he greeted. His ability to act as though he hadn’t been gasping for air only a second ago made you jealous. “No, that was-“ he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “A search party, really?” Your jaw dropped. “Jiminie and Kookie?” You watched as his face twisted, unbridled excitement fighting utter fear. You felt your stomach twist. Jiminie and Kookie weren’t the most threatening names, but Haru’s bodyguard was referred to as Muffin, and you’d seen the man in action.

Names meant nothing.

“I’ll let them know?” He glanced at you, a reassuring grin on his face, “It’s okay, Noona!” You both froze, Tae’s smile freezing on his face as your eyes drifted to the phone. You watched as he slowly lowered it, giving you an apologetic look as he put it on speaker.

“Noona?” Chaos announced itself.

“Yah! Who is Tae with?” There was the sound of shuffling, and then a chorus of things being knocked over.

“Settle down, you savages,” a voice ordered. You took the brief moment of silence to make yourself known.

“Uh, hi?”

Various voices returned the greeting, but the voice from earlier was the clearest, calling out, “Hello!”

“Hyungs, this is _____-noona. Noona, these are my Hyungs,” Tae introduced. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that the only thing you’d learned from that introduction was that he had multiple hyungs. Which was kind of a given, honestly.

His hyungs did not have this problem.

“Taehyung, what kind of introduction was that,” a voice chastised. “Hello, my name is Kim Seokjin, I am Worldwide Handsome, thank you.”

“My name is Min Yoongi and I’m surrounded by idiots.” You stifled a laugh. His announcement was accompanied by various cries of injustice.

“Kim Namjoon, nice to meet you.”

“He’s also known as RapMonster and God of Destruction,” Tae added, rather helpfully. Namjoon didn’t agree, if the sputtering defense was anything to go by, but it was ignored rather successfully. Although you made a note to ask Tae about the sunglasses incident?

“Okay, okay, okay. You all are lame! Here is a proper introduction.” You heard a throat clear and the rest of the boys settled. “I’m your Hope, You’r—“

“Yah, that’s cheating!”

“That’s your stage name, not your real name, Hobi.”

“Fine, fine. Hello, my name is Jung Hoseok! It is nice to meet you, thank you for taking care of Taehyung. He is young and gets lost easily–“ Tae refuted this with a vigorous shake of his head. “And he is terrible at keeping in contact with his worried Hyungs.” You couldn’t argue that.

“In summary,” Namjoon spoke up, “thank you for keeping an eye on Tae.”

“It’s really no problem. I was thankful for the company, and once I learned he liked photography, well,” you shrugged. “Also his puppy dog eyes are lethal.” The boys chimed in agreement, though Taehyung seemed delighted by the sudden revelation. His poor Hyungs wouldn’t know what hit them.

Oh well, not your problem.

“Anyway, I’m guessing he should probably head back to you all?”

“Yeah,” Suga agreed, “I would like to go to sleep. Tae, hurry up.”

Namjoon let out a huff, “Yes, you’re correct.”

“Ah, shouldn’t I walk you to your room,” Taehyung asked.

You waved him off, grabbing the rest of your gear, “No, my room isn’t far from here. If you want, I can walk you?” He shook his head. “Then I guess this is goodbye, my friend.” You gave a dramatic wave, watching as Tae clutched his chest.

“Noona,” he cried, “Don’t go!” He stretched out an arm to your retreating figure, trying to look heartbroken even as his eyes twinkled with mirth. You choked back a laugh.

“Remember me,” you called back, voice trembling. “We shall reunite one day, I swear!” With that, the two of you dramatically separated, fake sobs making your shoulders shake. You thanked the heavens that you both had to go different directions. If Taehyung had to turn and catch up with you, suddenly having to go the same way after such a dramatic departure- You giggled, the scene too funny to ignore.

The trip back to your hotel was filled with random laughter, especially when you saw two boys race by, one with cotton candy hair. Thankfully, your outbursts had receded by the time you reached your hotel, allowing you to fall into slumber with nothing more than a smile. Unfortunately, your phone went off way too early that morning.

“Wuh,” You answered, yawning. Your reflection gazed back at you as you blearily stared ahead. How you managed to mess your hair up so badly when unconscious was one of the world’s greatest mysteries.

“Oh man, did I wake you up,” Eun-ha asked. You heard her mutter under her breath, letting out a muffled curse. “Dang, I’m sorry ____.”

“Is cool,” you mumbled. “What's up?”

“Bangtan tweeted about the post you made last night!”

“Um, which post?” There were various, you remembered. The pleasant streets mid-day. The few you’d taken at the cafe. About three nightlife photos-

“The one with the guy, the silhouette against the city lights.” The one you’d snuck of Tae’s figure as he fiddled with the camera, aiming it at the sky. The one you’d commented, “Training my new protegee <3” and not told him about.

You hummed, “Gimmie sec.” You checked twitter and, sure enough, there it was.

bts_twt Teach me your ways~

Below it, they’d posted the photo and attached a link to your Insta. As a side effect, your twitter feed was filled with fans. They seemed pretty cool though. Shaking your head, you settled for liking their tweet and logging off.

“In my defense,” You explained to Eun-ha, “ I didn’t know he was an idol when I took that photo. You can’t even see his features because of the lighting in that one.”

“You met an idol and didn’t tell me?”

“Girl, you are a model. You hit on Jackson for heaven’s-”

“We don’t talk about that!”

“No, your Mandarin was awful and I will never let you live it down. He speaks Korean, Eun-ha.”

“I wanted to impress him,” she whined. She had impressed him, sort of. He’d been very nice about her utterly butchering her Manadarin, but at least she’d tried.

“Wait, doesn’t he have a friend named Namjoon or something?”

“Yeah, he’s in that Bangtan group that tweeted you and ohmyGod. ____, no.” You stared at your phone. On one hand, you’d already embarrassed yourself, calling him the God of Destruction with absolutely no hesitation. On the other, he’d probably heard about Eun-ha’s mess up and you could laugh about it. Giving up, you logged back onto Twitter, and ignoring the persistent dinging, you made a quick post.

_____Byeol Throwback to when my girl Eun-ha tried to hit on Jackson (GOT7) in the worst Mandarin ever. #whyareyoulikethis

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

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For Science 4/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 9.6k (im sorry its so long!!)

Warnings/Themes: definitely probably nsfw but purposefully not that many again. drunk jungkook being angry and then clingy, idiot kook, making out? ANGST?? Hoseok being the slimiest being on the face of the earth,

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I would like to thank @b-angst-tan for beta reading this series as it is so far. I also would like to tag @m-icdrop , @jiminslye & @ephemeral-mindset to let you know that i finally got my shit together and posted lmao. hopefully i didnt leave anyone out who wanted to be tagged. if i did im very sorry and if you want to be tagged for subsequent posts, just DM me and let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7

You wonder if maybe you should have chosen something more weather appropriate as the chill of the still early air nips at your stockinged ankles. It was a hard choice: The fleece-lined sweatpants with the dried tide pod stuck at the hip or something cute and feminine so you could play catch-up with whatever nice thing Yoori was wearing. The sight of Yoori in a slightly similar outfit of an elegant pea coat and demure pleated skirt convinces you that you made the right decision. But while your anxiety about picking the right clothes wanes, a sudden wave of exhaustion hits you. Normally you would be able to rest on a Saturday after 90 minutes of contorting yourself into endurance-testing positions, but today you had no time to untangle mentally—only physically—as you rushed through a shower to give yourself enough time to run to your apartment to grab a change of clothes.

Yoori looks up from her phone and sees you approaching her where she stands by a Starbuck’s storefront. A large grin splits her face, revealing a pair of adorable dimples on each cheek. You’re not expecting her to shove her phone into her coat pocket so she can run over to you and crush you in her arms.

“Hi, how are you!”

“Oh, uh, I’m good. How are you settling in?” Her grasp is fairly constricting , but you try not to appear shaken as you spit her hair out your mouth.

“I’m doing fine. I leased my apartment while I was away so, I’m still at the hotel until that contract ends. But that’s only for a few more weeks. After that I’ll move back in and really be at home. You smell lovely by the way. What scent is that?”

“Thanks,” you blink, “It’s just soap.”

“Mm, what kind of soap?”

“The dollar store kind.” She nods with a smile. “Um, where are we going?”

“Just to this little place up on Main Street. It’s called La Lune, have you heard of it?”

“Of course I have. They’re notorious for only ever being un-booked twice a year! And even then it’s just because they’re taking breaks so the owner can fly to her house in Paris.”

Yoori plays with the sleeve of her coat. “I suppose it does have a bit of a reputation. I must have just gotten lucky with their date book.”

“Don’t you need an appointment to get in?”

“Yes,” Yoori trails off.

“Will we be able to even get in? I-I didn’t call ahead to make a reservation since you said you’d take care of the plans for today.”

“They said they have an extra spot open for us today since they’re training a new technician.”

You don’t push because you know what they say about looking gift horses in the mouth. But you can’t help but wonder how you could have gotten so lucky on your first attempt to get seen at the nail shop. Any suspicion you have about Yoori’s methods of getting onto the appointment book evaporates when you step foot into the shop.

From looking at the pictures of the interior that you could find on Google images, you know that the design is based off of a bunch of spas that the owner herself went to during her many travels to Europe. All the décor is a novel twist of organic meets minimal with polished woods and metals and clean, sloping lines all existing harmoniously. You sit down in a plush chair in the waiting area while Yoori chats enthusiastically with the woman sitting behind the front desk. She does a little spin for her as they most likely talk about how much prettier she looks since the last time she came to the shop.

After confirming the appointment, Yoori makes her way over and sits next to you. She leans over the arm of her chair to peer over your shoulder at the vials of designer nail polish in your hands.

“Do you know what color you’re going to get?”

“Not yet. I usually just do black since it doesn’t clash and it doesn’t make my fingers look as stumpy”

“What are you talking about? Your hands are precious.” She reaches over to bring one up to inspect. “You have such a nice natural nailbed color. A nude would be perfect.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, I know what my hands are like. We can’t all have perfect OPI model hands, Yoori.”

She grins at your indirect compliment. “You think they’re perfect?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Some things are just objective facts.” She’s quiet for a bit, a small expression on her face as she looks at you carefully.

“I think this shade would look good on you”, she picks out a specific soft shade that highlights that mimics that pink tone of your nails. “Plus, its suitable for the winter and spring. So, you could wear it for a while.”

“It’s really pretty. Thanks.”

“I could buy it for you. If you like.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing so much for me today as is. I—“

“Too late.” She swipes the bottle out of your hand and gets up to go pay.

The guilt is too much for you to sit back and let it happen, so you launch yourself out of the chair and rush past her to the front desk, debit card out and ready.

“I’d like the buy the shade that Yoori has in her hand, please. Thank you.”

Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t argue, and lets you buy the shade. You give her a pat on the arm and accept the tiny satin drawstring gift bag and try not to think about the chunk of money that just left your account.

You can only assume the rest of the nail appointment is nice but you can’t know for sure. You do know that you must have enjoyed yourself because you promptly fall asleep two minutes into the hot rock hand massage that comes with every booking. Yoori snapped a quick picture of your lax dreaming face and woke you up when the technician asked her what shape you wanted your nails. Leaving the salon finds you refreshed and with a beautiful manicure.

“Feeling hungry yet,” Yoori asks after she catches you staring wistfully at a random pedestrian with a bagel. “There’s still time for it to be brunch at the place I was talking about.”

“Yeah. It’s just too bad my nails are all nice now,” you joke. “Saturday mornings are for ribs at my house.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. They don’t have ribs on their brunch menu, I don’t think. Do you want ribs? I can check and see if there are any barbecue places that are open for lunch.” She fumbles for her phone and types frantically like she didn’t just get a hundred-dollar manicure.

“Yoori, Yoori, hold on! I was just kidding. There’s no way in hell I’m messing these nails up. I’m almost considering just drinking water for lunch so I don’t have to use my hands.”

“Wow, you…really got me.” She lets out a breath of relief before side-eyeing you. “Are you sure you don’t want ribs?”

“Positive.”

“Good,” she chuckles.

The two of you make small talk about what brought each of you to engineering as you take walking directions from Yoori’s phone. The walk ends at a pretty looking place with a yet another French sounding name. It’s filled to the brim with fresh flowers, giving the air a sweet scent that has your mouth watering even more. You take a chance and allow Yoori to order for you, trying not to be suspicious of the strange cheese dish she orders as an appetizer.

“—And that’s how we met Tae. We didn’t meet Hoseok until about a month later when he spilled his drink on me in line for the comic book signing at the campus bookshop that one year.”

“I think I remember that day, actually,” Yoori blinks up as if sifting through the memory in mid-air.

“Oh! Did you go? I feel like I would have noticed another girl there. I think I could count all of us there on one hand.”

“No, I wasn’t there. I’m not a comic book person actually. I just remember seeing all the people coming back in cosplay. There was actually this one really beautiful green elf costume I saw on my way to class. There were lights woven into the fabric and everything—I almost took a photo.”

Your cheeks heat up and you duck your head to take a sip of your extremely expensive blood orange mimosa. “That was actually me.”

“Was it really? Did you make it yourself?”

“No—well, yeah, I did the bulk. But Jungkook helped me a lot and Tae helped me find the materials.”

“And Hoseok?”

“Hoseok scratched his ass and watched.”

“Wow, I can’t believe that was you. It’s like destiny. We must have been meant to meet,” she lays a hand next to yours. You can’t help but notice how well the color of her pastel nails goes with your nude.

“Yeah, I suppose so. But enough about me, I feel like I’ve just been blabbering on and on about my friends.”

“No, I love hearing about them. I always envy people with lots of stories to tell about their friends. I feel like I have to ask,” she trails off, a shy smile splitting her face. “What’s it like being the only girl in that friend group?”

“It’s…only mildly frustrating,” you say with a laugh as your food arrives. It smells wonderful and given the amount of truffle shavings, you’re glad you chose to come here on a day that you weren’t paying.

“How so?”

“I mean, you know how guys are and you know how STEM guys are. Add to that the fact that they aren’t getting laid and you have a very interesting strain of emotional constipation.” Yoori nods along understandingly. “And let’s not forget all the stupid questions they ask me since they can’t ask any other woman.”

“That sounds like it might be frustrating.” You chuckle at her diplomatic tone.

“I mean it is, but they’re nicer than most guys and they mean well.”

The sly smile appears again and she leans forward to create a bubble of privacy.

“Nothing more than platonic has ever happened between you and one of them?”

Thankfully, a waiter rushes by and bumps the table a little and you can use that as an excuse for suddenly choking on your food. You certainly weren’t expecting her to inquire about your sex life so early into the conversation, and the irony of the situation isn’t lost on you. Of course, the apple of Jungkook’s eye would ask you about which of your guy friends you’ve ever screwed around with.

You blot at your face with a cloth napkin. Luckily for you, the way you look when you’ve narrowly avoided asphyxiation and when you’re concealing guilt is very similar. “Oh my god, please. I’m trying to enjoy this food, not regurgitate it. But to answer your question, no. They’re not my type. They’re too…” you make some abstract gesture in the air with your fork and Yoori nods.

“What about Jungkook, then? Surely, he’s decent otherwise I’m sure you would have warned me by now.”

“No, he’s nice. He’s a little out of it sometimes, but that’s always been his thing, you know? But he’s really kind and warm and funny in his own way. Plus, he’s in love with you so I don’t think you have to worry about him doing the man-child thing too much.”

Yoori blushes and shifts in her seat, looking a little uncomfortable. “Yes, I figured as much.”

“Can I ask what took so long for you two to finally meet up? I just—I know he’s been contacting you for a while now.”

“It’s complicated,” she sighs.

“I can keep up.”

“You could say I’ve just always been very wary of the men in our department. They’re not your average guys, but they’re still men. They still want the same things from you. And,” she looks away from you to continue. “I wasn’t sure if Jungkook was that way as well. So, I kept my distance. This must seem pretty suspect to you. Especially since it happened after he got put on the department website. I’ve heard what some people have been saying.”

Your hands fly out to console her. “Oh my god, of course not. That makes total sense. You’re not obligated to entertain everyone who expresses interest in you. I get it.”

“Oh, gosh, I feel so bad.” She hangs her head in her hands and you watch helplessly as her hair nearly falls into her water glass. When you inquire why, she shakes her head with guilt. “Jungkook never outright expressed an interest in dating until a few weeks ago. All the times before that, he’d been a perfect gentleman via text. But it was the way he would stare at me in public with those…those moonpie eyes!”

“He does look like that sometimes. Especially with those glasses.” She points at you like you’ve hit the nail on the head.

After doing a cursory look around the restaurant to make sure no one around will be able to hear her confession, she elaborates. “It was just so obvious how he felt and I was so used to guys feigning wanting to be platonic friends only to corner me in the parking lot after what was supposed to be a friendly dinner out. I-I couldn’t trust him. But then I heard that you were friends with him and I decided I would give it a chance.”

“Why would you trust him just because of me?”

“I have my reasons. And I just figured if you were willing to be friends with him, he might not be so bad. Plus, my mom has been pestering me about getting married and I wanted to get her off my back.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. It means the world to him and he can finally stop pining silently. When is your first date,” you ask neutrally. Although you know that as soon as you get a date, you’ll have to terminate your weekends with Jungkook.

“Oh well we haven’t really discussed anything like that. I think he might ask about it soon, though. I’ll keep you posted.” The little eye roll and laugh she lets out breaks the heavy mood and you try to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

“Tell me about your friends, Yoori.”

“Me? Well, I probably don’t have as much to say as you do. Most of my friends have long since finished the program and I’ve been so busy with my dissertation that I just don’t have as much time as I used to for hanging out and stuff like that.”

“I thought you were friends with Sunyoung. The bio double major? Jungkook said you were pretty close.”

“Well, he’s right. At first, we were. She’s been really busy ever since she got engaged, so,” she trails off.

“To that Jaehyun guy, right? But, wait,” you drop your fork as the details fall into place. “Weren’t you guys all friends? And didn’t they get married like half a year ago?” Your heart breaks when you realize Yoori may have been alone for at least 6 months while working.

“I could tell I was making things difficult by third wheeling, so Sunyoung suggested I give them some space.”

You were pretty certain you saw Sunyoung and Jaehyun hanging out with a few of the other women in the engineering building on the regular when you went to print things for class using the department printer. Even with her indirect language, it’s pretty clear what happened between Yoori and her friend and you don’t push. Though you do feel bad for the animosity you felt towards her when she first introduced herself.

“Well, I’m glad we met. It’s nice to finally have a new girlfriend,” you say. She looks up at you with slightly dim eyes but perks up when you lace your fingers together briefly.

The smile she gives you is brilliant and infectious. “Me too. So much,” she says quietly.

When brunch ends, Yoori suggests continuing your stroll so you can walk off the post-food sleepiness. The weather is a bit brisk and there are unanswered texts from Jungkook on your phone, but you don’t say no and keep the notifications unread. Something about the fact that you’re in the shopping district with a pretty manicure and your pretty friend makes you feel good. Good in a way that you haven’t felt in a really long time.

You link arms and window shop for hours, though it doesn’t feel like it. She pulls you into store after store because she saw something that she thought would look ‘splendid’ on you. Somehow you manage to look past her imploring eyes and put the designer garments back on the rack, but not until after she’s made you try them on and spin around in them so she can sing your praises. While you browse each shop, you make comments about the other shoppers or the items that make her dissolve into giggles or make her cheeks flare up with a warm blush and a gaping, incredulous smile. By the time you finally part ways, you almost don’t want to get into the cab she’s called for you, but your feet are aching and the sun is starting to set. She blows you a theatrical air kiss and makes a surprisingly dorky ‘call me’ gesture with her hand that has you covering your face so she can’t see how hard you’re smiling. When you step out to face Jungkook’s building, the mood of the day’s outing lingers on you like a perfume. Or maybe it’s a halo. Either way, Jungkook notices something about you is slightly different when you finally arrive at his doorstep.

“Hey,” you greet him without looking and instead focus on getting your feet out of the little heeled booties you’d been wearing for so long.

“You changed?” His voice is muffled from where he lays with his cheek smushed into the sofa. The xbox controller in his hand dangles as he takes in your appearance. “When did you do that?”

“I went back to my house after yoga. I couldn’t go meet her in a rank t-shirt and the sweats that I slept in.”

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to see why he’s so silent. One look at the handful of empty beer bottles sitting neatly by the floor by his feet lets you know what the deal is.

“You been drinking, Jeon?” Jungkook when he’s drunk is quite the handful, but the owlish way he blinks at everything when there’s liquor in his system is almost funny enough to make the rest of his drunk antics worth it.

“Yep,” he hiccups. He tries to shoot finger guns at you but almost ends up flipping you the bird.

It draws a string of giggles out of you. He squints and takes in your frizz free hair, your glowy skin, your nice blouse and skirt, the easy way you walk over to the couch to sit by him. His stare is tangible.

“What?”

“You’re really pretty,” he rasps and his hand reaches out without his permission to trace the swell of your cheek.

His comment takes you by surprise and you can only laugh awkwardly and lean out of his reach, unsure of what to do with such a blatant compliment.

“Wow, I spend one afternoon with Yoori and you’re calling me pretty? She must have rubbed off on me real good.” You take the controller out of his hands to un-pause the game of Zelda he was playing.

“S’not cause of her. ‘S cause you’re not hiding,” he mumbles before picking up the other controller that was laying off to the side. His comment doesn’t reach your ears which he’s secretly glad for. “You want a beer?”

“Sure.”

He reaches over the arm of the couch to fish out one of the leftover full bottles and hands it to you. He doesn’t say anything while he watches you chug half of it, meanwhile nudging the inside of his cheek with his tongue. A classic sulking Jungkook pose.

“Oh my god, what? Are you mad I got to spend the day with her and you didn’t?”

He blinks, surprised, when he realizes that he’s actually not mad about that. Rather he’s mad you spent so little of the precious Saturday with him, though it wasn’t clear at first. To think that he’s jealous of Yoori is funny enough to break him of his brief pouting session.

“Yeah,” he fibs, “but it’s fine.” He scoots clumsily nearer next to you. “You’re here now and there’s still the rest of the weekend.”

“That’s true. But I don’t want to play Zelda. Let’s do Mario Kart?”

“Loser each round has to take a shot and winner picks the next course?” He’s already stumbling his way back to the kitchen to pull the tequila bottle someone left in his fridge a while back and a pair of plastic shot glasses.

“Is there any other way?”

It takes three rounds, the first two of which are Rainbow Road, but you quickly catch up to him in terms of tipsiness level. Your whole body feels like its vibrating, and the tequila makes it seem like your blood is carbonated. Like you could float away at any moment. By a streak of luck and then redirecting to Bowser’s castle, you manage to get in the winning position. You’re on a roll and get cocky enough to start gloating, egging Jungkook’s underlying competitive nature on.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath as you cross the finish line 9 seconds before him. His stomach feels sloshy after four shots and the bottles of beer he downed earlier. You slam down his, now full, shot glass in front of him, spilling some of the clear liquid onto the table.

“That’s like, what, your fourth one? No, wait, it’s your fifth one. My bad.” You stick out your tongue as you perch next to him, pressing yourself to his back and reveling in the way he grimaces at the shot. “If I had known you would make the game so easy, I would have stayed out with Yoori.”

You’re so busy teasing him about his slow gaming reflexes that you don’t notice the way his smile twitches after he downs the drink. He moves uncharacteristically fast and all you can do is sit there as he tosses the tiny plastic cup to side and then turns to lunge at you. Your back hits the couch cushion with a soft thud and your breath leaves you in a whoosh. If it had just been him caging you into the couch because he was fed up with your taunting, it would be fine. But the moment his fingertips dig into your sides, you lose it and start thrashing.

Jungkook knows better than anyone else that you’re a wild tickling victim, all flailing knees and elbows. Truly a danger to anyone who dares to tickle you. But he’s still smart despite being five tequila shots and a few beers in and uses his bulk against you to keep your movement to a minimum. Perhaps it’s a little cruel to take it out on you, but he still can’t get over the selfish simmering of regret at not suggesting you ditch Yoori in favor of letting him spend the day wrapped up in you. He missed you, is what it really boils down to.

“No,” you cackle underneath him, “No, please! Jungkook this isn’t fair. Please!”

He merely flashes you his teeth in a mean grin and continues until your eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and you’ve stopped squirming so you can keep your bladder in check.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg softly in surrender, toes curling.

Maybe it’s the angle. Maybe it’s the pleading voice you’re using, maybe it’s the sparkly quality of your eyes, or the fact that you smell like lavender. The color, not the flower, he notes. Whatever it is, his eyes fall closed automatically and he leans in to slot his mouth over yours. It’s a slow kiss and even though his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, it has a chaste feeling still. You wriggle your arms out from under his weight and push him off you slowly. Thoughts of Yoori float around in the back of your mind and you can’t turn them away without feeling awful.

“We can’t get into anything today,” you snap and smooth out your skirt. “I got my period while I was out.” You wince when the lie comes out, but you don’t know if there’s any other way to put enough distance between you so you can keep your head straight.

He watches you look around until you spot your overnight bag at the end of the room. “Are you leaving?” His tone bleeds annoyance and takes on a sharp edge.

“Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious. Because it kind of is and the longer you stay, the weaker your resolve gets. “We can’t fool around if I’m on the rag.”

“Just because we can’t fool around, doesn’t mean I want you to leave.” He’s thinks for a second. “Do you want to leave?”

“Well, if we don’t fool around, I should probably go. Otherwise, why the hell am I here?”

His frustration flares up once more and you’re surprised that he’s as upset as he is. “Because I want you to be? And because maybe you want to be here too? Is that so weird? You said yourself this wasn’t anything to make a big deal of.”

“It’s not. But—”

“Then why the hell are you leaving?” He rakes both hands through his hair until he looks frazzled and barks out a sarcastic laugh. You’ve never seen him so angry with you before and strangely your first instinct is to get angrier.

“As opposed to sticking around? To do what?”

“I don’t know. Anything? We could play Mario Kart until our eyes bleed. You could let me practice kissing you and feeling you up all night. Or we could just be silent and drink until we both pass out. I really don’t care just…tell me what you want. Just stay if you want to stay.”

Your cheeks warm at his blunt words, but you put your bag down. He lets out a sigh of relief when you don’t charge out the front door, but he tenses up again when you head out the living room and only relaxes finally when he hears the shower start up. After nearly half an hour, you emerge looking squeaky clean and a little guilty in sweats. He’s not sure what the cause of the guilt is, but he tries not push. You shuffle over to stand in front of him, the sheepish curve of your shoulders making you look tiny.

You hesitate for a second before planting a knee on either side of his thighs and seating yourself in his lap. Your arms come to wrap around the breadth of his shoulders and you rest your cheek on top of his head.

“How was your day,” you mumble into the strands of his shiny chestnut hair.

He preens silently at the affection that he didn’t realize he’d been craving all day and his arms mirror yours. They come up to snake around your waist as he reclines a bit and shifts so he can relax into the couch without jostling you. Out of all of the things you’ve started physically doing with Jungkook, cuddling with him like this might be his favorite thing to do. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting to bury himself in your scent and softness.

“Fine. Got my work done, skyped with RealiCorp. Met Tae for lunch. Tried to call you to see if you wanted to do dinner with us, but I guess you were busy. How was your time with Yoori?”

“It was,” you sigh, looking for the right word. “It was really fun. Honestly, its really nice to talk with another girl for a change. I’m glad we were able to.” He hums sympathetically and squeezes you a little tighter. “She’s really nice. You’ll be good together,” you admit.

He tenses a bit and changes the topic.

“I could fall asleep like this.” It’s the truth. The way your fingers run through his hair and the warmth of your breasts pillowing his head make him drowsy. Though he can’t focus on it as much as he’d like or else he’ll ruin the mood with an awkward boner.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, shifting so he can smile into your t-shirt.

“You’re so…” you can’t get the words out so instead you hastily smack a loud kiss onto his cheek.

It shocks both of you, but he doesn’t look put off. Instead, he merely adjusts his glasses, which you jostled with the force of your kiss. The gesture is so characteristically him that the floodgates open and you keep planting kisses on his face until he laughs and starts trying to catch your mouth with his own. He manages one or two cheeky kisses on your lips, but you swerve around enough to keep things PG. He huffs and keeps trying, one of his hands coming up to grab at your arm and keep you still. He leans forward, forcing you to lean back in his lap until you can’t anymore without risk of falling. When you clutch at his shoulders to maintain your balance, you’re right where he wants you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut as he brushes his nose against yours. It’s cute, he thinks. By now he knows in theory how you feel about period sex, but where’s the harm in kissing?

“Why are you being so shy? I just wanna kiss you,” he scoffs while attempting to nip at your bottom lip.

“Just kissing?” You open your eyes cautiously, lids at half-mast. He nods hurriedly, fingers drumming an impatient beat on the small of your back.

“O-Okay.” You barely get the word out before he’s swooping in with a low contented sound.

Making out just for the sake of making out reminds you of your time with your first boyfriend, the summer before college started. Only this is so much better because it’s Jungkook and because there’s no race to sex like there was when you were 18. Every press of lips is a deliberate choice and when you finally come up for air, somehow, you’re horizontal and are regretting the lie you told terribly.

He pulls away with a kiss-swollen pout and checks the time. When it’s an appropriate hour for bed and he suggests you both retire to the bedroom to watch TV before bed. You’re a little wary at first, but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t do anything untoward. He even lets you take control of his laptop and the HDMI cord while he writes continuously in his journal. You try to peer over at what he’s writing once you recognize it as his sex journal, but he pins you with such an offended look that you can only turn around feeling properly scolded without having actually been verbally addressed. You don’t think too much of the fact that he’s writing in it despite the fact that you haven’t done much in the amorous realm and he wrote on and off the entire day yesterday.

Even after you’ve watched three episodes of Elementary, he’s still writing. You unplug the computer and turn to look at him in his pretzel legged position. Every so often he’ll look over at you and then return to frantically writing in his journal. You try to engage him in an unspoken staring contest, but your eyelids drop closed and prevent you from winning. Only once it becomes clear that you’re trying to sleep does he wedge his journal underneath his half of the mattress and turn off the lights.

Passing through the weekend and into the next week doesn’t suddenly bring things back to normal. Instead it feels as though you’ve entered the twilight zone.

You and Yoori text on and off all of Sunday and into Monday to compare schedules and see when you can meet up for some quality girl time. This means that Yoori has started to come meet you outside your lecture halls when your classes end to walk to the library together and you arrive at your agreed meeting spots with her preferred coffee order. Your nails are holding up amazingly and you tell her so constantly while she smiles at how excited you are at something she often takes for granted.

Yoori suggested you have your your study sessions in the corner of the library coffee shop because the picture window shows all the light snow you’ve been getting and provides a nice form of visual ambiance to work to. Sometimes the guys attempt to crash the sessions. Often times you have to shoo them away by letting them take your ID card to stock up on hot chocolates with extra whip from the front counter. Your funds are depleting at an alarming rate, but it’s better to have the uninterrupted time with your first girl friend in a long time so you can get to know her better.

“So, are you going home during winter break,” you ask one day while typing away at the results section of a lab report. Yoori sits across from you in an oversized cashmere sweater you wish you could pull of half as well as she does. She’s been working silently for nearly an hour and you know she won’t take a break unless you distract her from the work.

At the sound of your voice, her head pops up instantly, her loose bun spilling out of its structure with the movement and cascading down her back. A freshman walking by the table nearly slams into a door trying to keep looking back at the same time. She closes her laptop, completely unaware of her effect on the people in the surrounding area.

“Yeah, I am. I haven’t in the past few years but my grandparents are coming from the countryside, so I should probably go this time.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you. I’m sure they’d all like to see you.”

“Are you going?”

“No,” you give a bittersweet smile as you play with the damp stirring stick next to your drink. “My family lives too far away for me to be able to go home and make the plane ride worth it. I’ll probably see them in the summer, though.”

“Won’t you be lonely? Do you want to come home with me?” Her brow furrows in sympathy and she reaches out to rub at your arm.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be fine. It’s not my first rodeo, you know. Plus usually some, if not all, of the guys stick around since they live nearby but still want a break from their families during the day. But thank you though.”

“Okay, well there’s still time if you want to change your mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you almost done?”

“Almost. I’m waiting on my VASP energies to come in and then I can update my poster and I’ll be all set.”

“VASP? Since when do you do chemistry,” you get up to peer at her computer screen.

Yoori pats the open seat next to her and let her explain the very quick favor she’s doing with a professor she’s been in contact with since undergrad when she thought she would be pre-health.

“—So basically, now she’s just waiting to evaluate grain boundary energies to see if the electrolytes we’re using actually have the right structure to make a difference in hydrogen atom velocities. And I’m just here to help with some minor calculations.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

A small ping from your phone alerts you of an incoming text from ~JK~.

Is Yoori with you?

“Um, I think Jungkook is trying to reach you.”

“Oh! I keep my phone on silent during the day,” she explains and hurriedly switches on the volume before opening whatever texts he must have sent her before he texted you.

“Really?”

“I have yours set on urgent, though.”

You grin. “And why’s that?”

“Because! What if you send me another meme about neural networks? I can’t just let it rot away in my inbox.”

“No one appreciates my memes like you do.”

“Aren’t I great?”

“So great,” you admit with clenched eyes and fists for dramatic feeling.

“I wish I didn’t have to go. I’m enjoying you complimenting me.”

“Oh. Are you headed somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The energy files just arrived and I’m about to finish entering them. I think Jungkook wants to meet up to discuss things, so I’m just going to pack up now and meet him at the dining commons before the dinner rush kicks in. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay, sure.”

After Yoori packs up to leave, you consider texting Jungkook to ask what he plans on discussing with her, but it feels so clingy and invasive that you’re ashamed of yourself and force yourself to dive into work. The lab report is nearly done, but there are a few articles you could read to get further ahead in your classes. It takes a long while, and you work through the usual dinner time to do it, but you manage to finish thanks to having turned your phone off as soon as Yoori left.

When you turn it back on there are a few recent messages from Taehyung and Hoseok inquiring about late night munchies plans. You figure eating with them is better than eating soup alone in the middle of the nearby convenience store. And better than ignoring the messages in favor of going home early to have pity sleep for dinner. You text them back saying that you’ll meet them in 10 and pack your things up.

You arrive at the smoothie place feeling haggard and not ready to balance Taehyung’s energy and Hoseok’s chaotic existence. The bright side is that there is a medium chocolate shake sitting in the empty seat at the tiny high table they’ve managed to save. You greet them with a tired smile and immediately suck down the drink, reveling in the way the chocolate is already lifting your spirits a bit.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok greets you. Taehyung slaps his arm, but turns to you with concerned eyes.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Why are you guys acting like you don’t see me passed out throughout random parts of the day 80% of the time?”

“Because you don’t look like you do,” Hoseok quips. At your blank stare, he goes back to innocently sipping his guava juice. “Just looking out for you, buddy.”

“Yeah, well I slept all of this weekend, thank you very much. What about you guys? You get up to trouble at the Dairy Queen again? Is that why we’re here this time?”

Tae nods somberly. “Hobi put lit firecrackers in their dumpsters again. But this time he almost caused their elderly delivery guy to go into cardiac arrest.”

“Something is wrong with you.” Hoseok merely winks at you in response.

“The worst part is that I didn’t even have anything to do with it, but they still wouldn’t let me in, even when it was just me and Kook,” Taehyung whines.

Hoseok snorts. “Ok, that’s on you. You were my accomplice even though you technically didn’t touch the fireworks but people remember your face better than they do mine. Should have waited at least a week before trying to go back in there.”

“Wait, this was all in one weekend?”

“Yeah,” Tae reaches over and dips a fry into your cup. “The fireworks were Friday, after game night. And then we tried to go in on Saturday, but they wouldn’t let us in. We tried calling you and everything.”

“You’re mad at me now? It’s not like I could have helped you.”

“Yeah, you could have,” Hoseok corrects, gesturing to your general chest area. “You’ve got the tits for that sort of thing.”

“Why are we friends,” you ask him with a soulless smile.

“Because you won’t let me motorboat you.” His response is immediate and just as dry. It spooks you a little.

“Well, I’m gonna go. I would say it’s been fun, but it hasn’t.”

“Wait!” Taehyung scrambles out of his chair and helps you back into yours. “You can’t leave. Jungkook might be done soon and said he’ll try and meet up with us. It’ll be the first time we’ve all been out together in such a long time.”

“We literally saw her on Friday,” Hoseok groans and tosses his head back in what looks like a mini tantrum. You roll your eyes.

“That was at Kook’s house, that’s not ‘out’. It doesn’t count.” Taehyung turns to plead with you, eyes big and starry, with a comical pout on his face. “Please stay? For me? Ignore him. I do.”

“Hey!”

“Fine,” you sigh before shaking your empty cup. “But I need another one of these. And Hobi is buying.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Do I have to remind you that if it weren’t for you and your whipped cream fixation, I wouldn’t be in the red for dining dollars and I might be able to afford my own drinks from time to time? You owe me, Jung.” You try to poke his sternum menacingly, but he moves to snap his teeth at your finger and you quickly pull back with a shriek. He agrees, though its reluctantly at best.

While Hoseok waits in the line to order your refill, Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours. Carefully, he attempts conversation.

“How are you holding up?”

“With what, work? It’s the same as always. Tedious.”

“No, I mean with…Did Kook not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he planned to officially ask Yoori out tonight,” his voice is quiet and uncertain.

“Oh. No, he didn’t tell me. But, it’s not like its our right to know. He’s an adult. H-how did you find out, though?”

“He told me.”

“And me,” Hoseok says as he sets down the second milkshake in front of you.

“I see.”

You start drinking on autopilot, too busy thinking about why Jungkook wouldn’t tell you such big news despite your being his best friend. You figure maybe he found out about your big fat crush on him and decided he’d rather tiptoe around you than have to let you down gently. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough about you enough to tell you these things now that Yoori was in the picture. What’s good is that the latter thought doesn’t make any resentment towards Yoori rise in your stomach. Instead you just want to curl up in a ball and wonder you did in your past life to deserve such a horrendous love life. Or, you suppose, lack thereof.

“He just shared his location. I think he’s on the way,” Taehyung tentatively disrupts you from zoning out any further.

If you hurried, you could probably take the campus shuttle home and be on your way home before Jungkook arrives, but part of you wants to see how he’ll explain his decision to you. You decide to stay because you don’t want to be anything less than supportive of his new relationship though it’s kind of crushing you in the process.

“Tell him to hurry up, then. You know what happens when I drink cold things,” your voice is light and a little bouncier than is appropriate and you know Taehyung knows what’s going on in your head. But Hoseok doesn’t and you don’t want him to.

Jungkook arrives 10 minutes later with Yoori in tow. She looks sheepish until she sees you sitting at the table and her dimples make an appearance. She runs ahead of Jungkook to envelope you in a hug. You’re still working on the physical boundaries of your friendship given that you’re not a huge fan of suffocation. Still, you pat her arm and let her get her fill before pulling back and offering up half of your chair. She gratefully accepts it and links arms with you immediately after settling down. Everyone scoots closer to open up more space and Jungkook pulls up a seat as well.

“It’s good to see you both, again,” Yoori chirps politely. Hoseok melts at the sound of her voice and beams at her. It’s gross.

“We’re good. It’s nice to see you so often now.” Taehyung chances a look at you. The initial shock of watching you and Yoori become fast friends apparently still hasn’t worn off. You don’t blame him but he’s so obvious about it.

“It is, isn’t it? You guys are just so fun to be around.”

“We like hanging out with you too, Yoori.” Hoseok’s voice climbs almost half an octave trying to sound so abnormally accommodating. Everyone else tries to contain their laughter. “You know, you still haven’t come visit me at the dance studio. I’m starting to get hurt feelings.”

“W-well, it’s just that I’ve been so busy and I still haven’t figured out a gap in my schedule when I can properly come see you. I’m very sorry,” she squeezes your arm unconsciously as she bows her head a little to him in apology. Your pulse picks up sympathetically for her.

“Hobi, if she wanted to see you do sweaty body rolls in an empty room, don’t you think she would have done it already?” When his smile twitches at your comment you add a quick, “I’m only trying to be realistic. I’m looking out for you, buddy.”

Yoori hisses your name in your ear, but you can tell that she’s trying not to smile at your sharp wit from her tone of voice.

“Anyway,” Hoseok starts up again, “Yoori, don’t you and Jungkookie have some good news to tell us all?”

Yoori’s cheeks redden at the sudden shift in topic and she looks to Jungkook for help. His face is similarly pink with embarrassment, but he still clears his throat like he’s about to make a toast.

“It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to say that I can’t do game night this Friday since I’ll be having dinner with Yoori in town.”

“You’re all welcome to join us, if you like,” she quickly amends. Your eyes widen and you swoop in to help Jungkook save face. You know it probably took him a lot to muster the courage to ask her out in the first place and if you don’t do anything, you know Hoseok will gladly wriggle his way in and ruin the date.

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude on your dinner. But, thank you, for the offer. Right Tae? Right, Hobi?” Hoseok sulks but wordlessly agrees to stay out of their date.

“Yeah,” Taehyung jumps in to help you. “We’ll just have the game night at my place. I want to play cards anyway, instead of console games this time around.”

Everyone nods until the awkward air dissipates and all that’s left is the background noise of the diner and the sound of people finishing their drinks. The cold from your shakes starts to seep into your bones and you decide to use this as your exit ticket.

“Hey, sorry to ruin the fun, but I’m freezing and I didn’t bring a real jacket, so I think I’m gonna head home. You guys have fun without me, though.”

“You can just wear my sweater,” Jungkook pipes up and begins to pull the thick, woolen pullover he was wearing over his head. But you hold your hand up to stop him as you get down from your stool and collect your trash.

“No, Kook, you’re fine. I’m just gonna use the cold as motivation to get to the bus quicker. Have a good night, everyone.”

“It’s colder out there. At least take his sweater,” Yoori calls out to you. “For me,” she adds when you look like you’re thinking about it.

“Fine,” you huff as you take the sweater from Jungkook. You slide it on in front of everyone so they can have their worries assuaged. It’s still toasty from his leftover body heat and smells like his laundry detergent. He might not get it back for a while. “See? I’ll definitely be fine now.”

“Why don’t I go with you? I’ve still got a robotics assignment I have to work on. Plus, we can split cab fare instead of waiting for the bus.” Tae shrugs on his own coat and goes to stand by you.

“Okay.” You ignore his probing look until you finish waving to everyone and leave the restaurant.

Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets as you request a ride home through an app on your phone. The silence is companionable, but the waves of pity and sympathy rolling off Taehyung are damn near palpable and you’re about to burst if you don’t address it.

“Just say what you’re thinking. I can practically hear it anyway.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not 12. I’m not going to be devastated just because they’re going out on one date.”

“Yeah, but,” Taehyung hesitates for a bit, trying to cushion the blow, “You know it’s just a matter of time before they become official, right?”

“I know that too,” you wince when your voice cracks a little.

“If you ever need anything, you know we’re here for you.” You raise an incredulous eyebrow at the implication that Hosoek would do anything less than laugh in your face if you came to him looking for comfort. “Well, I am, at least.”

“I know, Tae. Thank you.” You let him wrap you in a one-armed hug, but don’t let him pull away so you can steal his warmth as you wait for your car to arrive.

Yoori’s apartment is nicer than anything you’ve ever seen. So much so that you have a hard time believing that you even live in the same town. It’s technically not your first time visiting her building and you’ve called many a late night cab from her plush lobby. You’ve even started to make small talk with her doorman since you’re there so often. But something was keeping you from coming up and visiting her actual apartment. All the times you’d hung out off campus had been at your place or at Jungkook’s place. There had been a lull in all that since Jungkook announced that they’d be going on a date only a few days prior.

After that fateful day, it was hard to act like there hadn’t been subtle changes in the way people were acting. Jungkook was suddenly super busy or always at the gym and couldn’t ever pick up your calls. And when he did return them it was only when you were dead asleep and couldn’t pick up your phone. For that, you were actually kind of grateful because you were certain that the next time you saw him on your own, he would try to break it to you that he couldn’t return your affections and that you could no longer be friends.

Taehyung and Hoseok, on the other hand, were still somewhat normal, but Hoseok was too excited about Yoori’s unofficial entry into the friend group and Taehyung kept soft-touching you like he could take up your pain through osmosis. Yoori was the only one who hadn’t suddenly turned weird and it was only because she wasn’t aware of the chaos floating around you all.

When she’d asked you to come shopping with her on the high street, you had a hunch that it was so she could get some new outfits for the many date nights with Jungkook ahead. You didn’t expect her to try and rope you into buying things as well, though you managed to get out it by truthfully explaining to her that Taehyung and Hoseok were still using your student ID like it was a credit card in someone else’s name and you had to be frugal as a result. But just when you thought you were in the clear as you approached her building, she invited you up to help her style the stuff she bought and stick around for dinner. To keep from having to explain yourself, you said yes.

But you instantly regretted it as you stood in the middle of her chicly decorated bedroom with picture windows and realized that despite the fact that you were extremely fond of Yoori, there was still a very small part of you that wished you had her life. It felt juvenile and reminded you that even after you stopped being a teenager you still had a ton of self-esteem issues left to address. The sooner you finished helping her with her outfits, the sooner you could maybe curl up on her couch and down the bottle of wine you bought while you were shopping earlier.

“I don’t think I like this one as much now that we’re not in the store anymore.” Yoori frowns at her reflection from inside the walk-in closet. The fact that she had a walk-in closet did not surprise you, but your mouth still dropped open when you the little seating area and the full-length panel of mirrors inside of it.

You finish picking out an alternative and then call out to her. “Come out and let me see it?”

She emerges in a short and slinky dress that would be perfect if it weren’t for the way it slouched at the neckline. It seemed intentional in the store with the way the salesman was pushing hard for her to buy it, but now it looked oddly frumpy.

“I think I see what you mean. Turn?” She obeys and turns gracefully, the skirt flaring out around her hips. “Why don’t you try these? They’d look amazing with that red blouse you wore when we went to the movies that one time.” You hand her some satiny trousers that she picked up on a whim but ended up really liking. If she paired them with red, Jungkook’s favorite color, he’d eat his heart out.

“You’re right, I think this is the one,” Yoori smiles widely at you and comes out with two pairs of shoes in her hand. Silently you point to the pair that would go better with the outfit, the ones with a subtle gold traces etched into the stiletto heel.

“If you want, you can wear your hair in a ponytail. Show off your neck, he’ll like it.”

“Really?” She laughs, slightly bashful. “Is he a neck guy?”

“For you? He’s a neck guy, hand guy, lips guy, ass guy. You name it.” As soon as Yoori hangs up her outfit for the date and puts it on her closet door, you flop face first into her bed, exhausted in so many ways.

“Why do you know so much about his, um, preferences? Is he vocal about that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your voice is muffled by her bedspread.

“And are you not vocal about that sort of thing, then?”

Luckily she can’t see your face as you roll the question around in your head. You’re no prude and if it weren’t for the unfortunate series of events that is your life, you would love nothing more than to swap sex stories with Yoori as a form of bonding. But given that you can’t and you don’t really want to end up having to listen to her talk about sex with him when it comes, you decide one more white lie won’t hurt.

“I’m just a really private person, so I don’t really do that.”

“Good to know,” she chuckles and you miss the disappointed look on her face when she realizes she won’t be able to share with you. Although, it would make sense that you wouldn’t want to hear her talk about your childhood best friend like that. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Sleep.”

“Are you tired? How about we take a rain check and think about it again in a few hours? I’m gonna go come up with some slides for my coding class, but you’re welcome to nap in here and I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”

“That…sounds great. Thanks, Yoori.”

“No problem.”

You wait until she closes her bedroom door and you’re certain you’re alone. When the sound of the soft music that she plays when she works drifts through the speakers in her living room, you crawl up to the head of the bed, get under the covers, and cry into the pillow. The sleep that follows is amazing though and you think it’s half because your body was running on fumes and half because Yoori has the best mattress you’ve ever slept on.

#bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #networkbangtan #btswriters #bts scenarios #bangtan scenarios #bts fanfction #bangtan fanfic #bts imagines #bangtan imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine

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steves-on-a-plane · 6 years ago

Text

Grant & Ed

Words: 2018 Stony (Steve Rogers x Tony Stark) Reader Insert Main Character Coffee Shop AU (Kind of) MCU Timeline: Captain America: Civil War Prompt Credit: @dailyau & @mundej-deactivated2018528 Summary: Reader has been working at a coffee shop for nearly a year and grows increasingly curious about two of her regulars “Grant” & “Ed” who always come to the cafe together. That is until one day “Grant” arrives alone.

You hadn’t been working at the coffee shop very long. You leaned against the counter and did a rough calculation in your head. It had been about nine months. Though your tenure had not been as lengthy as most of your co-workers, you’d gotten good at your job quickly. You’d had to. People took their morning routines, and their coffee, very seriously. After about a month you’d gotten to know who the regulars were and their orders. You seemed to be generally liked among the customers and for the most part you liked them too. Eventually, your fake smile and cheery greetings came to be genuine acts of delight.

But there were two customers in particular that you always looked forward to seeing. One of them was a blonde with striking blue eyes. He always flashed you a warm smile when placing his order. The other seemed, at least to you, as his complete opposite. He had brown hair and brown eyes. Where the blonde generally looked put together at all times the other man had this air of always being slightly disheveled. His pockets seemed to be stuffed with old receipts, scraps of paper or loose dollar bills. Sometimes his tie was slightly askew or one of his suitjacket buttons would have gotten missed.

You’d come to know them as “Grant” (the blonde) and “Ed” (the brunette) though you’d always assumed those weren’t their real names. While they were always polite to you and your co-workers they preferred to keep to themselves. Generally, “Grant” would place the order, while “Ed” fumbled around his seemingly endless number of pockets looking for enough money to pay the tab. Their order was always the same too. A black coffee, a plain bagel with cream cheese, an iced Americano with whipped cream and three sugars and a blueberry muffin. After the coffees were poured and the pastries bagged the men would carry their order to a small table near the back of the shop.

They didn’t come in every day. Which to you was the most bizarre thing about them. They might frequent the place two or three times a day for an entire week and then two months might go by where you didn’t see them at all. Still, they always came back eventually. You couldn’t help but want to know more about them. Were they a couple? If so, how long had they been together? How did they make their conflicting personalities work together? Why did they disappear during seemingly random periods of time? You knew it would never be polite to ask, so you didn’t. That is until the day that “Grant” came into the coffee shop on his own.

“No, Ed today?” You couldn’t help but note as you already began ringing in the usual order of two coffees, a bagel and a muffin.

“No, uh not today.” He told you quietly. He seemed surprised that you noticed. “And just the black coffee for me.” He added.

“Oh?” You stopped what you were doing and looked up from the register to study him. He looked tired. His eyes weren’t shining like they usually did. Instead they looked red and irritated, like he’d been crying. His hair was sticking up as if he’d been running his hands through it. It wasn’t the way you were used to seeing him. The sight put you slightly off kilter.

“Coffee’s on me.” You said, clearing the order off the register without hesitation.

“No, please I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble…” He insisted uncomfortably.

“It’s the least I can do.” You told him firmly. “You’ve been very generous with your tips over the past few months.” (In fact they had tipped you $20 a day since you’d started working there. Not just you, but your co-workers as well. If they happened to be working when the couple came in.) You wouldn’t hear another word on the matter, turning away to pour his familiar order of a straight black coffee. You turned faced him again before sliding the Styrofoam cup across the counter. At the same time, you placed a hand over the top of the tip jar, preventing him from could slipping a crumpled bill inside.

“Coffee’s on me, remember?” You offered him a smile, and he just nodded in return. “Grant’s” mind was clearly on something else as he walked slowly to his usual table. You began to wonder once again what his relationship with “Ed” was. Had they been a couple? Had they had a fight? Were they breaking up?

There were no other customers in line after “Grant” So you decided to take advantage of the slow moment to bus and clean tables. You tried to turn your mind to other things. To focus on the cleaning and give “Grant” the space he probably needed. But even as you collected empty cups, and wiped table tops you’re eyes continued to drift over to the little table for two that was currently only occupied by one.

You saw “Grant” still sitting there, but now he was on the phone with someone. Could it be Ed? You tried to casually make your way to a nearby table so that you could overhear what he was saying. As you wiped your table down with a soapy rag, you strained to hear the conversation.

“Tony, I’m glad you’re back on the compound. I don’t like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours. Maybe more so than mine…”

“Avengers?” You repeated to yourself. No that couldn’t be right. You pretended to scrub a stain on the table that had been there longer than you and wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“I’ve been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith’s in people, I guess. Individuals. And I’m happy to say that for the most part, they haven’t let me down. Which is why I can’t let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn’t. I know I hurt you Tony. I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but can see now that I was really sparing myself and I’m sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you’re doing what you believe in, and that’s all any of us can do. That’s all any of us should…so no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I’ll be there.”

Finally your curiosity got the better of you. You sighed knowing full well what curiosity did to cats, but you just had to know what was going on. It was probably going to lose you your job, but you stopped pretending to clean the table and tossed any empty cups in your possession before circling back to “Grant’s” table.

“So, I wouldn’t normally do something like this.” You apologized, standing across from him. “But you and Ed always come in here together and I can’t help but notice the lack of bagel in your order or the fact that your usual dapper appearance is looking a little…” You paused trying to think of a polite word.

“Unkept?” He chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, but he hadn’t asked you to leave him alone yet. So you continued on.

“Yeah, I guess.” You nodded. “I just, wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m sure that sounds crazy because I don’t actually know anything about you but…”

“No, no.” He interrupted you with a weak smile. “I think it’s kind, but I’ll be all right. Thank you.”

“Um, okay.” You bit your lip. You knew that you should return to your place behind the counter, you were supposed to be working after all, but something told you to sit down instead. An instinct you would later be glad you didn’t ignore.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized again. “But I have a feeling this is probably the last time I’m going to see you, so I have to know, Grant’s not your real name, is it?” Again he laughed, but this one was lighter. It almost conveyed genuine humor.

“No, it’s not, but it’s not exactly not my name.” He explained. “The fake names had been all Tony’s idea. He’d wanted us t have somewhere that we could go, just the two of us. I guess now that everything’s over this is to.” He said, looking around the café sadly. “I’m Steve. Steven Grant Rogers.”

“You’re name’s Steve Rogers?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Hang on a second.” You pulled your phone out of your back pocket. You didn't know why, but that name sounded familiar. You opened your internet browser and Googled ”Steve Rogers.” Hundreds of thousands of results came back, but you were most interested in the top result; a Wikipedia article. You tapped the Wikipedia link and anxiously waited for the page to load. The heading on the next page read:

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

“Huh.” You laughed. “I knew it was familiar. You have the same name as Captain America. I wonder if you look alike.” Your finger moved across the screen so you could scroll further down the article. There was a photo of Captain America in his full costume, but what caught your attention was the small section under the photo. Wikipedia had Steve listed as a “historical Figure” while the second row of information listed his full name.

Steven Grant Rogers.

“No way.” You gasped looking up at Steve. “You’re…this is you?” You positioned the phone screen so that he could see the article you’d been reading.

“That’s me.” He agreed.

“And Ed?” You asked.

“Anthony Edward Stark.” He supplied.

“Oh.” You suddenly felt very stupid. You’d been serving Captain America and Iron Man coffee for the past nine months and never noticed. It was like being at the end of a Scooby-Doo cartoon. All it had taken to fool you was a set of slightly misleading names.

“Ohhhhhh.” You repeated, this time dragging the word out. You began to recall everything you’d seen about the Avengers in the news and on Social Media. They’d essentially been forced to break up because of the Sokovian Accords. It was relatively common knowledge that while Tony Stark had been a driving force behind getting the Accords ratified, Steve had been adamantly against them.

“I’m on my way out of the country.” Steve explained. “But I wanted to stop in one last time, since it was our place. You were right, you probably wont ever see me again.”

“Whoa. That sucks. For you, I mean.” You told him. “It’s awful that they’re trying to force you guys to sign something that basically gives the government total control over what you can and can’t do. Do you mind if I ask, I wont ever tell anyone else, but you and Tony…I sort of overheard your phone call. Were you…was he…”

“We never said as much out loud.” Steve admitted. “But yeah. For about five years.”

“Let me get you another coffee.” You offered, noticing his empty cup.

“No, it’s alright.” He waved you off. “I’ve got to be getting on my way.” Steve slid his chair back and started to get up from the table. “But if you could do me a favor…”

“Anything.” You agreed immediately.

“If he ever comes in, will you tell him…” Steve’s sentence trailed off. He couldn’t seem to get out what he wanted to say. So you nodded with understanding.

“I’ll tell him.” You promised.

“Thanks.” He offered you a mournful smirk. “Oh, and in case you ever need a favor of your own.” Steve reached for a napkin and quickly scrawled a ten-digit phone number down. He added the name “Grant” in the corner before handing the napkin to you. “It was nice talking with you, [Y/N].” With his smirk still front and center on his face Steve Rogers walked out of the coffee shop.

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storiesaboutcole · 6 years ago

Text

If You Want To

Description: You were locked out of your apartment and Cole randomly appears to save the night.

Your night just couldn’t get any worse. You lost your purse at the bar, your phone died and now you’re locked out of your own apartment. You kept on hitting the buzzer but to no avail. You groaned out loud, devastated, knowing that your roommate was not at home yet. You tried buzzing your neighbours too, but they thought you were just some random drunk who’s trying to enter the building.

“Fuck off!” the guy from unit 7A told you without even trying to hear you out.

With no money or whatsoever, you were beginning to accept the fact that the only thing that you could do was to wait out in the cold. You sat on the doorstep, admitting defeat. Then the most hopeful thing happened to you. You looked up and saw the window to your bedroom open. Your unit is just a storey up anyway. You could just climb up, you thought to yourself. Delighted, you began to study the surrounding as you slowly lay out the strategy in your head. You mentally thank yourself for wearing a pair of jeans instead of a dress.

“I can do this,” you told yourself as you take of your shoes, stepping on the handrail of the staircase. You tried reaching out to the window apron above you, but since you’re rather small, it was just too high for you. You quickly looked to the left and thought maybe you should try stepping on your neighbour’s apron first to give you the height you needed. And so you did, while praying that your neighbour was fast asleep.

“Yes!” you celebrated when your hands could finally reach the apron above you. You just needed to lift yourself up but it was so much harder than you thought it would be. You began to panic and struggled with balance a little bit as your feet wobbled on the apron below. You took a calming breath and recomposed yourself.

“You can do this, [Y/N]. You can do this,” you exhaled.

You tried lifting your weight again, and this time, you brilliantly placed your foot on the little space in between the concrete wall like how you would while rock climbing. It worked! You lifted another foot and almost screamed your victory when you suddenly heard a siren from behind you. You turned around to look and saw a policeman approaching the entrance.

“No! No! No!” you cried to yourself.

“Miss, can you step away from the window please,” the officer sternly told you. He was in his 30s, early 40s maybe.

Panicking, you quickly abide to what the officer told you to do.

“Miss, I believe you are trying to trespass,” he said.

“Me? No, Mr Police, sir. I was just trying to get to my room. You see, I’m locked out,” you nervously swallowed.

With his eyebrows all furrowed, he immediately asked for your ID. “Can I see some ID, please?”

“I don’t have it with me. You see, my purse got stollen in the bar. My phone is dead. And I’m freezing to death out here officer,” you explained.

The officer looked like he wasn’t buying anything you were saying. You just knew whatever he was about to say would mean you’re dead. Perhaps the earth would just open up and swallow to your death already.

“From what I see, you’re attempting to enter the premise without permission, Miss. I might need to bring you to the station. Maybe you can get a friend to come and help you out there,” he told you.

“What? No! I am not going to follow some stranger in a car. Especially a guy in uniform!”

“Miss, I am not going to allow anyone trespass this property without solid proof,’ he remained cool. “Now, would you please follow me to the station.”

You violently shook your head, nearly crying, thinking why on earth would you be arrested for trying to climb up your own bedroom window.

“Is everything alright?” A voice asked from behind. Both you and the police officer looked at the man behind you. He was flashing the biggest smile that you felt offended by it.”Did you get yourself locked out again, hun?”

You were puzzled by him. So was the police officer. You swore you have seen him somewhere before, but you just couldn’t wrap your head around it just yet, considering the fact that you’re worried shit about being taken to the police station.

“You know her?” the officer asked the guy.

“Of course. She is my girlfriend. We live here together. You have to forgive her because she can be a bit forgetful, sometimes. It’s not her first time,” he grinned, winking at you as he placed his arms around you, pulling you in closer. That caught you off guard.

The police officer carefully studied the both of you before he finally resigned.

“Alright then. I guess we are all good. Don’t climb the premise ever again,” the police officer scolded you. You turned bright red in embarrassment, as you watched the police officer returned to his vehicle.

“That was easy,” the guy next to you chuckled. His arm was still around you, so you quickly released yourself from him. “Oh, sorry!” he shyly smiled. “I’m Cole.”

“[Y/N],” you nodded. “Thank you for saving me.”

“So, are you really locked out or were you really trying to break into the apartment? I overheard you and the officer. Thought of helping.”

“What, you don’t believe what I told the officer?” you gave him a side eye.

“Of course I do,” he chuckled. “Just making sure.”

“Do you live here?” You asked him, hoping that he was so you could slide into the building with his help.

“Unfortunately, no. So, technically, you’re still locked out. Sorry,” he bit his lip.

“Damn it,” you whispered, but he heard you anyway.

“Do you want to go for a walk or something? I mean, it’s too cold and dangerous to wait out here,” he offered.

“No, thanks. How would I know if you’re not a serial killer or something?”

Your question made him laugh.

“Well, alright then. Waiting out here won’t guarantee you that you’d be safe from other serial killers, so...” he laughed. “Your choice. I won’t bite. I promise,’ he held his hands in the air.

You studied Cole for a minute. You began to think that he might not cause any harm.

“Okay, okay.” you sighed, as you started walking. Cole made a little run to catch your pace. He was obviously delighted.

“Do you even live around here?” you couldn’t help but wonder.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Then what are you even doing here?” you asked with furrowed brows.

“I mean, I used to live around here, but I moved away. I’m just mainly here for work nowadays,” he explained.

“Oh, really? What do you do? Sell drugs on the street?” you chuckled.

“Hey, do I look like I belong to a drug cartel?” he laughed.

“Maybe,” you chuckled.

“Let me remind you that it was not me that nearly got arrested,” he teased.

“Hey!” you playfully smacked his arm.

“Ouch!” he playfully looked over at you. You blushed when you realized that he he was actually really cute.

“So, [Y/N], what do you do?” You shook your head, and reminded him, “Uh-uh. No way. I asked you first!”

“Okay,” he nervously chuckled. “I’m... I’m a photographer.”

“Really? Wait.” you abruptly stopped your tracks and looked up at him so you could scrutinize his face. You were sure that you’ve seen him somewhere.

“What?” he flushed.

“I think I’ve seen you somewhere, but I just couldn’t remember where.”

“Probably my twin,” he scoffed, like he was telling an inside joke. “Your turn.”

“Don’t laugh, okay?” you warned him.

“Okay.”

“I’m a blogger.”

“Really? Are you one of those influencers they called these days?”

“Hey! I told you not to laugh!”

“I am not!” he chuckled as he took out his phone. You two were standing in the middle of the footpath as passersby walked pass the both of you. “What’s your Instagram? Let me add you up.”

You hesitated, but since Cole was really nice to you, you decided to give him the details he wanted. “It’s [your username]. I’d follow you back, but my phone’s dead.”

“Don’t worry about it, [your full name]. You’re a good influencer because you’ve influenced me to follow your Gram! And, whoa! 30k followers. So, you’re famous!”

“Ah, stop it Cole!” you rolled your eyes.

Laughing, he asked, “Hey, do you want to grab coffee or something? There’s a coffee shop downtown that I really like. On me. Given your purse situation.”

“It’s not like I have anywhere else to go anyway,” you shrugged.

The both of you shared more random stuff about each other as you made your way to the coffee shop. You really liked how warm and inviting Cole was. He made you feel like you have known him for such a long time.

Cole was about to open the door to the coffee shop when he was suddenly stopped by a couple of girls at the entrance.

“Cole! Oh my god!” one of the girls squealed.

“Hey ya!” Cole warmly smiled.

“I won’t take much of your time, but if you could, please. Can we take a photo with you?” the other one excitedly asked. You were puzzled by their reaction. And seeing how gladly Cole was to take a photo with the girls, you began to wonder if he’s famous or something.

“Thank you so much, Cole!” both the girls said in unison. They didn’t even realized you were standing behind them when thet walked away, still squealing in joy.

“Sorry about that,” Cole told you as he opened the door for you.

“Are you like famous or something?” you said mimicking him.

He hesitated to answer. He bit his lower lip and starred at you. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, if I were, then you’d recognize me. But, you didn’t.”

I heard faint whispers as we sat at one of the tables by the window.

“Oh my god, is that Cole Sprouse?”

“He’s so hot.”

“Who is he with?”

“Make him look here.”

You could tell that Cole was pretending not to hear.

“Cole, do you mind if I borrow your phone?” you asked.

“Yeah, sure,” he handed it to you, with no questions asked.

You began to google Cole Sprouse. And you’re instincts were right. Cole was indeed famous. Not because he was a photographer. But because he was a famous actor.

“Are you going to tell me that you’re an actor or not? Now I get why people are excited about bumping into you.” you showed him the search results on his phone.

“You googled me?” he tilted his head. “On my phone?”

“Yeah, I had to. I overheard they said your name and got curious. So, why lied?”

“[Y/N], I didn’t mean to lie. I mean, I really am a photographer. It’s just... it’s just awkward for me to tell someone I’ve just met that I’m an actor. I don’t want to sound like an asshole. I’m sorry,” he gave you a sad puppy face.

“Well, okay then.”

“Really? You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I? It’s cool that you’re not one of those hey I’m famous look at me, look at me type.”

“I don’t know. I have to be honest with you. This is probably the first time that I meet someone who doesn’t know who I am or what I do and I really like it. It makes me feel like you want to talk to me because I’m me, you know? Not just because you know me as an actor or something. It’s refreshing, to say the least,” he warmly smiled.

You started to feel bad for him. It must have been tough to be him.

“Is your hair actually blonde?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I had to dye it black for a character.”

“Oh my god! You have a twin brother!”

“Yeah, I do. I told you that before. Okay, enough with googling stuff about me. Now, let’s talk more about you.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Let’s play a game instead.”

“Okay?” he said, confused.

“21 Questions.”

“Really? That’s your game? You’ve been asking me tonnes of questions before we even play this game.” Cole looked around cautiously, chuckling.

“Are you afraid, Cole Sprouse? It’ll be fair for the both of us. You get to ask me questions and I get to ask you some. Fair, isn’t it?”

“Okay. Fine. Bring it on. You first,” he said as he stretched his arms.

“What was the last photo you took?”

“Good question. Hmm, a photo of my cast members. Okay. I guess, it’s my turn. If you couldn’t be convicted of any one type of crime, what criminal charge would you like to be immune to?”

“You just love to torture me, don’t you? Hmm. Probably trespassing,” you laughed.

“That’s a good answer,” Cole joined your laughter. “[Y/N], which celebrity do you think is the most down to earth?”

“Is that a trick question? You want me to say it’s you, don’t you?”

“I mean, is it not true?” he laughed.

“You’re impossible, Cole! Okay, okay. What do you need help with most often?”

“Shutting up, because I tend to talk a lot! What were you completely certain of until you found out you were wrong?”

His questions never failed to make you laugh. “Climbing my bedroom window apparently, without a doubt.”

The both of you ended asking more that 21 questions. It just went on and on, from politics, to entertainment, to your favorite cartoon characters. You then realized that it was really late.

“Okay, last few questions because it’s late!” you announced. “What topic could you spend hours talking about?”

Cole paused for a bit like he was constructing his answer. “I don’t mind talking about you for hours. I mean, technically, we just did,” he admitted. That made you flush. And awkward. He just sat in front of you, eyeing you from across the table. Not in a creepy way though. In a way that gave you butterflies in your tummy kind of way. He cleared his throat when he realized that you looked uncomfortable and quickly asked his question. “Do you like things to be carefully planned or do you prefer to just go with the flow?”

“Go with the flow, I guess. What’s something that you know is true, but you don’t like to admit it?”

Cole looked at you again and smiled. “Probably the fact that I kinda like bumping into you tonight.”

You didn’t say anything. Your heart was racing because you felt the same way, but was just too shy to admit it.

“Can we see each other again after tonight?” Cole asked.

“Cole... Are we still playing the game because it doesn’t sound like the right question,” you swallowed.

‘I’m sorry,” he shyly said, looking a bit disappointed. You kinda felt bad for making him mistook your awkwardness as disinterest. “I’ll ask a different question then. What’s wrong but sounds right?”

You eyed him before you answered. “That maybe, we can start exchanging numbers?” you boldly suggested.

Surprised, Cole smiled to himself like he was finally being asked the question he wanted to hear. He looked down at his cup, as a few strands of his hair brushed his face, before looking at you again. You were smiling warmly at him, patiently waiting for him to answer as he returned your smile.

“I thought you’d never ask. Only if you want to, [Y/N]. Only if you want to.”

#cole sprouse x reader #cole sprouse #cole sprouse fiction #cole sprouse imagine #jughead jones #bughead #riverdale

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movedto-dazaipositive · 7 years ago

Text

urban fantasy + jackparse

big thanks to @taggianto and @restfulinsomniac because they yelled at me when I asked them to I couldn’t have done it without you 💙 🌌brought to you by the parseposse 🌌

Bob was human before Alicia turned him

but she turned Bob only after Jack was conceived

so Jack is a halfie from the start

and in their real forms, vampires are unnerving. they have waxy, bloodless skin and sunken eyes but in artificial light they’re sparkling_heart

and Jack gets all his mom’s good looks and his dad’s love for hockey

but they know that putting him in hockey is unfair because humans just can’t compete

he never grows up with hockey as a burden on his shoulders. he’s allowed to be a geeky, chubby history nerd who loves taking photos of random stuff

Jack goes to samwell

the Samwell campus (since I can’t remember canon right now) is next to/in a lil town

right? and Kent is just this lonely sixteen y/o boy who has a little magic and he can talk to ghosts

and in Jack’s first year, this girl on campus and her boyfriend are found dead in the woods behind the Haus

and then weird shit starts going down near the Haus and their Captain, who is superstitious as fuck even by hockey player standards, is like. nope. we gotta do an exorcism

and he puts Shitty and Jack on the task because the frogs gotta be good for something, right? and so they ask around and someone gives them the game of someone who tells them about Kent

Kent lives alone. he got kicked out when he was 13 bc his dad was like, no fucking devils in my house. Kent finds this dilapidated cottage just a little bit into the woods on the other side and the ghosts there are friendly and kind and give him instructions on how to cook and which herbs to pick at what time for witchcraft and which herbs the florist will buy

and Kent survives and occasionally someone will ask him to do an exorcism and Kent will charge them to talk to some poor confused ghost who doesn’t know what’s going on

which is what Jack and shitty ask him to do, or so he thinks, so he shrugs and agrees. and I want it to keep in mind that this is Jack without hockey. he’s a slightly chubby, awkward history nerd who takes a camera everywhere and happens to be half-vampire by complete accident

he’s like, the last person you’d expect to have vampire parents

he’s adorable, okay? Kent can’t deal with this stupidly beautiful soft boy. he just can’t. he reacts in typical Kent fashion by being a jackass to Jack (ha!) who’s like ?? about it

(Kent is going to melt the first time Jack hugs him)

Kent is so going to melt, though. he’s been alone with nothing but ghosts for regular company since he was 13 and Jack is large and warm and he smells like maple syrup and almonds and he’s always wearing dorky sweaters and he’s got a slow, wonderfully calming heartbeat. Kent doesn’t stand a fucking chance

I think Jack doesn’t even need to be a vampire for this fic to work he just needs to not play hockey

anyway. Kent goes with Jack and Shitty to the woods behind the Haus and they a have a campout for 2 days where they toast marshmallows and wait for the ghosts to show up

Kent hears someone crying on the second night after Jack and shitty are asleep. he goes to investigate, like the entire dumbass that he is. who goes it turn out to be? the girl who was killed, ofc. and she’s all bloody and horrifying and shit and I won’t go into details bc I have to sleep in 15 minutes but she scary

but Kent is like, np. hey, can I help you out? what happened? starts talking to her in a normal person voice until she calms down somewhat. and she’s just getting somewhere when shitty pops up behind Kent with a really loud leaf cronch sound and the girl starts screaming again

Kent is like, good job, asshole. and they aren’t getting anywhere with the girl so they just go back to their tents, where Jack is taking photos of the fire and looking Hot As Fuck (ha!) and Kent is extremely flustered bc he is a smol teenagered boy. and they all go to bed.

Kent wakes up just before dawn, yelling. his nightmare is bad enough that he nearly strangles himself trying to get the fuck away from whatever it was and Jack and shitty don’t get what’s going on but Kent is terrified and won’t stop crying so they take him back to the Haus, where Drew, their manager, makes waffles for everyone but especially Kent

who is by this time wearing one of jack’s sweaters and also has their softest blanket draped over him like a cape

(interlude because I fell asleep)

so where I left off, Kent is sitting at the table, eating waffles courtesy of Drew, the SMH’s genderfluid manager and Lardo’s predecessor

Jack is hovering nervously bc Kent has been crying for half the night and vomiting for a quarter of it

but Kent insists he’s okay now, and Jack is hovering because he’s! worried! Kent is tiny and Jack doesn’t want anything to happen to him

Kent, between shoveling waffles into his mouth bc he’s only had them once before in his life, tells them briefly how the girl died

and the way she died is like, gruesome. it’s this horrible thing involving a high school cult and this girl was a witch with real power that got trapped in this thing and they tried to kill her but it didn’t work and it’s bad. let’s not go into too many details about it

and she told her boyfriend, who was a lax bro, and he was like, I’m gonna beat these people up, except there was a demon stuck somewhere that these stupid cultists set free and it killed her and her boyfriend

bad, long drawn out deaths

and once Kent is done eating waffles–which takes a while, because he eats a lot–he slams his fork down and says, grimly, “I’m going to kill them.” and Jack goes ummm? no? ur 16 u r a child?

they fight. loudly. there’s a lot of Jack yelling you are a child and Kent screaming, I’m the only one who can do this

Kent does not like Shouting he has a lot of bad memories of it.

shitty, walking in: we can,,,,,,all go,,,

Jack:

Kent:

and drew is like, the hell you guys are leaving me behind. I’m the only adult in this room and y'all all are kids

restful: (drew has adopted three children? somehow?? but they are all drew’s children and drew loves them)

restful: (one of them lives in the woods and needs more waffles in his life, another goes by the name ‘shitty’, and the third hangs around with the hockey team despite not playing hockey but they are all drew’s kids)

me: (the lax bro feud starts in jack’s sophomore year and it is 100% Drew’s fault. drew didn’t have to humiliate the entire team because zey were bored)

Drew uses zey/zer/zers

drew is a messy edgelord parent

so Kent and shitty and Jack and drew all go on an Investigation

(I feel like this fic should be written like an Enid Blyton novel)

so they around and ask people weird questions until Kent sees someone who has magic. people who have magic (and other supernaturals) show up in Kent’s vision with weird coloured auras.

and they go up to this dude, a Muslim guy in his third year who recognises drew, and this guy is like, yeah totally. I know about that cult of fucking weirdos that followed Allison around. I helped her get a restraining order on them

so they go track down the restraining order. the cop they meet first is this nasty cishet dude who refuses point blank to use Drew’s pronouns, casually calls Kent a slur, and won’t look at Ahmed and sideyes shitty suspiciously. this is where jack’s occasional vampire charm helps (or maybe it’s because Jack looks like a Fellow CisHet) and the cop agrees to dig up the file

Jack is not a Fellow CisHet and is very uncomfortable at being mistaken as such but he plays along because he Must

and everyone acknowledges the brave sacrifice that he’s making

restful: Jack, staring longingly at Kent’s every move. “Uh, yeah. Het. I can pretend to be that.”

me: [about Jack] me? heterosexual? yeah, uh, totally. I’m not. gay. or bisexual. *staring at Ahmed’s ass in those jeans * I’m Straight

Kent, also staring at Ahmed’s ass: I’m not

drew: you’re all dead to me except Ahmed, who can have my number whenever he wants

restful: Ahmed, wide-eyed and trying to decide which of them to stare at. “all of you can have my number, please use it.”

Ahmed: except you, Kenny. also, does anyone know to file for adoption?

the head of the (I had to google this) precinct is a butch Native American woman who shows up to ask them why they want records.

Captain: can someone explain?

Drew: please take me I’m gay

Kent explains the situation to her and she’s like, yeah totally. u can have the records. Allison’s restraining order was before i transferred here but totally

so they go thru the records and find the names of the people Allison restrained. and then they go track down those people

drew gets the captain’s number 'just in case we need some help’ but we all know zer True Motives

(Ahmed and Drew are gonna get together and work out a relationship where Drew gets to have as much sex as zey like and Ahmed gets to remain faithful to zer which is ideal for both of them, partly because Ahmed is just a lil grey ace? he’s uncomfortable calling himself that but he doesn’t like sex nearly as much as Drew does)

anyway, they have a showdown where Ahmed shows off his karate moves and Drew splits zer time between fighting (badly, needs to be rescued) and 😍@ahmed

drew is such a bad fighter because zer entire technique is to flail and screme

Ahmed loves his idiot person, okay? he’s made his peace with it

Kent meanwhile tries to exorcise a demon and he has no fucking clue what’s going on

or what he’s doing. but he cuts a deal with the demon that amounts to 'you can have the cultists but plz go from here, begone etc’. demon is okay with this, partly because Jack is being a threatening bloodsucker in the background and this demon isn’t that strong–demon boi might win. but he might not. boy ain’t chancing it

Jack and Kent become awkward friends who meet for dinner every week and they go trekking in the woods and pine horribly over each other. it’s gross. Kent is still living alone in a cottage in the woods and he still needs to be hugged about 6 times more than he is right now

but on the plus side, he has friends now! Jack and Drew and Ahmed (who’s teaching Kent magic !!) and *looks at smudged writing on hand * Skittles

and the entire hockey team.

and the Captain, who takes one look at this idiot boy and invites him home and feeds him and does it regularly enough that Kent is living there before he knows it

Kent goes back to school. he s t r u g g l e s to get grades good enough to get into samwell next year (he hasn’t been to school in 4 years ok) but he has Jack to help him study!

Jack kisses him at graduation

it’s just a quick little omg you made it kiss but Kent is! so happy! he feels like he’s bursting with it

he has everything he wants, he’s loved and hugged, he has a little kitten who’s his familiar, and even if he doesn’t get into Samwell he’ll still finds have magic and community college and he wants to become a teacher

the end

#pimms #jackparse #parseposse #parsepositive #omgcp #kent parson #jack zimmermann #carysfics #age gap /#there's a couple years between jack and kent but they don't do anything until kent is legal

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