#or maybe there are potential notes but I’m on lunch break and my brain is Fried unfortunately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

salsdemise · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Sally face x reader fic? Possibly a confession and first kiss an da party or something like that, thank you!

Hey anon, sorry if this is bad, I'm assuming you meant sal, and if not just lmk and I'll re-write this for another character if you want.

Warnings: Underage drinking, underaged smoking, parties, y/n used in place of your name, really awkward with the confession part? idk how to write those

word count: 1479

other: gender neutral terms used, sal's speech is in blue bc sometimes its unclear whos talking bc i didn't know what to put between the words spoken lol playlist listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5SMv6Go27KIcbfL07wkQ4m

This party wasn’t where you wanted to be right now. Hell, you’d rather be at school, getting pushed around by the kids in the hall right now. Anywhere was better than this loud, flashy,party filled with the smell of cigs, weed, alcohol and sex wafting off of every teen you passed.

Why you had come to this party in the first place had slipped your mind, as now you were more focused on not getting backed into a corner with a potted plant by a group of your peers. Maybe it was because your friend Larry wouldn’t shut up about how fun it was going to be, maybe it was because you would have felt bad saying no, or maybe it was because you certainly weren’t going to pass up on an opportunity to potentially hang out with Sal Fisher, your long time crush and close friend.

Holding your now empty red cup, you navigated your way through the crowd of drunken and dancing teens, most who were nice and giggly as you passed, slurring apologies at you if they bumped you.

While you weren’t all sober yourself, you had enough remaining cognitive ability to form full thoughts, and the only one on your mind was finding one of two people; Sal or Larry. You had no doubt Larry was off smoking with gods know who, so that left one option, and if your brain wasn’t mistaking you, you had seen the electric-bluenette near the door to the backyard in the kitchen not too long ago. So that’s where you set your sights.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you were happy to know that you were indeed correct on where you had last seen Sal, just outside on the patio, sitting hunched over a cup, the bottom straps of his prosthetic undone and dangling. Murmuring a few ‘excuse me’s at the teens you passed on the way, you made your way out to the back, opening and exiting the door and catching the bluenette’s attention. Seating yourself next to him, you said nothing, not sure of what to say.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show. Lar said you were coming, but I thought he was bluffing again,” Sal spoke, sipping on his drink.

You laughed at this, “yea, no, he actually convinced me to come. Not sure how, but he did. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you here either. You always talk about how much you hate parties, especially ones that have inebriating drinks,” you set your cup down next to you, and a small breeze knocked it over as soon as your hand left it.

“I don’t, hate em. Managed to get someone to get me something non-alcoholic, though. What have you had to drink?” He motioned to your, now rolling, red cup to emphasize.

“Oh, nothing too strong. They had a punch bowl in there so I took some of that,” thinking back to it as you spoke, it was odd the hosts of this party put a punch bowl out at a party with no need for it. However, you and Sal both seemingly shrugged it off and continued talking.

Conversation between the two of you had always come so naturally, switching between topics and tones, talking about people, your home state, his home state, and the likes.

“Man, I cannot believe he did that! It was like, super awkward between us for a week,“ you laughed, finishing a story about how Larry had tried to ask you out when high. Luckily the guy wasn’t too upset and took no for an answer.

“Hey, y/n, about asking people out...have you ever done it?” Sal questioned, messing with his sweater sleeves now that his drink was gone and his cup had also flown off.

“Oh, uh, not like, here at Nockfell, but in the past I asked a guy in my grade to go to a valentine’s day dance with me. Why?” you responded, tilting your head at him.

“I want to ask this person out, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh. Well, what do they like? How long have you known them? And how close are you two? You can’t just ask out a random person you barely know, it won’t go well.”

“Well, they like a lot so it’s...kinda hard to put into words. I’ve known them for years now, and I’d like to say we’re pretty close.”

Thinking, you went quiet. As much as it hurt you to know your crush liked someone else, you were going to help him as best you could.

“Well, I’d give them a note, personally. I’d probably piss myself if I tried to tell them upfront. But it depends on how you wanna do it.”

Sal quietly thinks for a few seconds before standing up and fixing his mask, “Thanks for your help dude. We should get going, I’ll go find Larry and we can get out of here.”

You nod, standing and following Sal back into the house, heading for the front door while Sal went off to find Larry. With your mutual friend acquired, you all left for home, depositing Larry at his place and heading to your own beds, tired now that the social buzz had worn off.

Over the next week, you and Sal talked less and less, notes popped up in your locker, and small things like patches, stickers, pins and snacks appeared with them. You were confused to say the least. You loved everything this admirer gave you, and the notes were adorable, even if they were typed and printed rather than hand written, but you wondered why Sal had stopped talking to you as often as he did.

As the weeks progressed, you had started to like the secret admirer that was leaving you small gifts and notes reminding you how much they liked you. But the most recent note, which you had gotten on a sunny and warm Wednesday, really caught your attention. This time, it was handwritten in blue pen ink, the handwriting surprisingly neat, completely eliminating who you thought it was.

The note read: “y/n, meet me in the courtyard during lunch/break time. -<3”, and not wanting to disappoint, you waited with an uneasy shake until lunch came around where you went straight to the courtyard. Seeing no one, you sat on the ground by a tree to wait until your secret admirer got there.

10 minutes later, the heavy doors opened and closed with a thud, catching your attention and causing you to look up where you saw Sal, mask in hands, and looking down.

“Sal? Are you the one that wanted to meet me here?” You were..puzzled to say the least. Sal had hardly talked to you in weeks, and you thought he liked someone else like Ash, but it seems you were mistaken.

“Uh, yea, I am. I know you’re..probably upset at me for not talking to you in the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to say something stupid too soon. I hope you’re not too mad..”

“Sal, I’m not mad. I thought you were busy trying to get your mystery person to like you..and I guess I was right, but I didn’t think it’d be me..”

“Who else would it have been? You and I are as close as Larry and I are, we like the same things and I’ve known you since you got here. Hell, I’ve been pining over you for years now, but last year when Lar told me he was gonna try and shoot his shot, I tried to get myself to like Ash so I wouldn’t feel like shit if you said yes.”

“Oh, Sal. I thought it was Ash, you talk so much about her sometimes, I thought you actually liked her.”

“Oh, no, I don’t. She helped me with this, actually. Which reminds me, if its not obvious already, I really fucking like you. Like, you make me feel happy and just thinking about you makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Smiling at his words you stood to go over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders so he would look up at you, “I like you too, Sal. Like, a lot. I have for a while, and when you asked how to ask someone out,I..it hurt a little bit.”

Saying nothing at your words, Sal moved forward and wrapped you in a hug, his mask landing in the grass behind you two. Before you could return the hug, Sal backed up and his hands grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. Giving you time to react this time, you kissed back, your hands placing themselves over his.

Now, sitting at a college party with your boyfriend, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe parties aren’t so bad after all.’

#sally face #sal fisher #sally face x reader #sally face game #sal fisher x y/n #gn!reader

131 notes · View notes

sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

My Favorite Kind Of Night - 3.

Camboy!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Part 3 of this series

Run-through: On Friday nights, you are punctual to your virtual meet-up with your favorite camboy over a streaming platform, for your private stream session. You’ve known him for a couple of months now. He goes by the alias of ‘Winter Soldier’ on the platform, which is perfect for the kind of man he is; brawny and drop dead gorgeous. Over the past few months, he has become your favorite kind of night. And secretly, you became his as well. You two get closer over time, and things get interesting when your real, professional lives gets intertwined.

Themes throughout the series: sex worker!bucky, smut, phone sex, fluff, language, dirty talk

Through texts and phone calls and his livestreams, you got closer to your favorite camboy over the past couple of weeks.

Even if you and him went hours without texting each other during the day because of work, calling each other every night became sort of a ritual. You lived for those naughty phone calls with him. But also, in the meantime you got closer to James.

At work, even in the professional environment, a couple of flirty comments, frequent texts and stealing glances soon became a thing between you two. How could you resist him and his magnetic aura and charm, his stormy-blue eyes and his perfect face?

You were conflicted however. Because you didn’t know what exactly was going on with you and Bucky, but also whatever was between you and James was equally unclear.

You thought to yourself, if it came down to it, hypothetically – who would you choose? The online sex-god whose voice alone could make you cum multiple times in one night? Or the hot employee who made your heart race and flutter whenever he was around?

Bucky found himself in a similar case. Over the past few weeks, he had gotten so close to his favorite girl. Then again, he was also feeling all warm and tingly towards his boss.

Should it, let’s pretend, come down to it one day, who would he choose? The perfect doll who had the power to make him stutter with just one photo? Or the gorgeous, confident boss lady who made his heart race with just one look?

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he walked over to your office with a couple of interoffice memos and a file. He knocked and waited for the sound of your voice, before entering the room.

He found you standing by your desk, typing on your phone. Dressed in a dark grey sheath dress and black heels, you could bring a man to his knees in no time. But Bucky maintained his composure even though he kept thinking how much better you’d look on top of the desk instead of standing beside it.

“James, hi.” You greeted. And yes, you and him were on first name basis now. No more ‘Mr. Barnes’ and ‘Ma’am’ and you both preferred it this way.

He sent you a breathtaking smile. “Hi Y/N.” He walked over to you and set down the file and notes down and just gave you a slight nervous look.

You caught it. “Is everything alright?” you asked and he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah just…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Nevermind. We still up for lunch?” he asked. And yes, you and him often took lunch breaks together now.

You frowned a little before smiling again, “Yeah, of course.”

He nodded and said a quick ‘see you later’ before turning around and walking away. You called out after him right before he grabbed the door handle to walk out. “James?”

He concluded he would never get used to how his name sounded coming from you. It sounded so sweet and gentle which also made him want to figure out how his name would sound when you would be screaming in his bed while he’s just giving it to you raw-

“Yes?” he forced his thoughts to come to a stop so as not to torture himself any further.

You took a few steps and joined him at your door. “You seem a little off. Are you okay?” you gently placed a hand on his bicep and as soon as you did, his muscles flexed. You held back a smirk and he did the same.

You knew exactly the effect you had on him, and he did too. “I’m alright. Just… how about we talk about it over lunch? Sound good?”

You nodded and let him go. And as soon as he left, you heard your phone buzz on top of your desk. You picked it up and saw a message from Bucky.

Bucky: Do you happen to like someone in real life?

You stared at his text for a moment. What? Also, did you? And what a timing the man had, because just a second ago when you placed your hand on James’ arm, you could have sworn you felt a spark ignite deep within you. Was that because you liked James like that?

You: I don’t know the right answer to that right now. Why do you ask?

You waited for his reply.

Bucky: Don’t mind me. I’m just being stupid. Anyways, have a lovely day babygirl. And think of me.

You giggled at his message put down your phone and tried to get to work again but many questions still lingered in the back of your head.

Did Bucky ask you that because he liked someone in real life and wanted to know if you did as well so he wouldn’t feel guilty about it? Or perhaps he was just confused about the nature of your ‘friendship’? Or was that just a random question? And did you really like James, or did you just find him attractive? Was it wrong to like James? And even if you did, did he feel the same or is he just being nice and friendly?

You sighed and groaned and pushed the thoughts aside and resumed your work.

Bucky on the other hand, was a little more stressed out. Was it a mistake to text his favorite girl that? What must she be thinking? He hoped he hadn’t messed up. He liked his favorite, naughty girl and he had soon grown addicted to her. Her body, her voice, the sounds she made when she came… he couldn’t get enough.

But he also liked his boss. Her elegance, her politeness and her easy-going manner. Also why did he just make a fool out of himself in front of his boss – who is potentially the woman he’s developing a crush on – by being all awkward?

His brain definitely short circuited the moment you touched his arm moments ago though. He couldn’t help it, that simple touch from you sent electricity coursing through his veins and he stopped functioning for a moment there.

Initially, he came by your office because he planned on asking you a rather important question. But upon entering your office, he began second guessing himself. Should he have just asked you and put himself out of his misery?

He sighed as he sat back in his seat, he glanced at his watch and knew that one way or another he’d have to confront you and ask you his burning question at lunch.

Lunch time came by sooner than you expected. You had spent all morning drowning in meetings, calls, emails and overthinking. So when James showed up at your door telling you that it’s time to go out, you jumped from your chair in excitement.

You and James walked to a nearby, cozy and uncrowded little bistro and ordered your favorites. Once you sat down and faced him, you saw that same nervous or bothered look on his face.

“Okay. Spill, what is going on with you?” you asked, sipping on your drink.

He sighed and knew that there was no avoiding it now. “Uh, it’s… regarding the charity ball we’re supposed to attend this Friday night.”

You nodded slowly. The charity ball which was to take place two days from now was being hosted by a friend/business ally, and you and some of those who worked with you were invited, including James.

“What about it?”

He fought back a smile and said directly. “I was wondering, you know since we’re both attending, if you wanted to come with me. As my date?” he waited, gauging your reaction to see if it was tipping towards good or bad.

You gave him a bright smile. “I would love to!” you giggled as he immediately seemed much more at ease than a minute ago. “Is this why you were acting like that all morning?” you asked.

He chuckled. “I wasn’t sure what your reaction would be. And as much as I like you, I would never want to disrespect my boss and cross a line.”

I like you… His confession shocked both you and him. Oh well, he thought, there’s no going back now.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “You like me, huh?”

He froze for a millisecond because the tone you used resembled so much to that of his favorite girl whenever she asked him ‘You missed me, huh?’

Or maybe he was just way too tangled in the thoughts of both you beautiful women that he was purposely mixing up to avoid facing the fact that he would have to choose between the two of you eventually. Also, now that he finally confessed he liked you, does that mean he already made a choice and now he’d have to make sure that the relationship between him and his favorite girl is purely transactional – no cute and flirty texts, no more nudes, just private sessions on Friday nights?

Stop. He told himself. You’re overthinking.

“I do.” he replied confidently. Whatever follows, he’ll deal with it, he told himself.

You smiled at him, feeling that same spark ignite as it did this morning. “I think I like you too, Mr. Barnes.” And the smile and the look he gave you made your heart flutter.

After lunch, you sensed a shift between you and James. A pleasant one – which you would’ve enjoyed so much more if you hadn’t been overthinking ever since he confessed to liking you. You realized then, that you liked him as well.

But what did that mean for you and Bucky? Should things escalate between you and James, would that mean that whatever you had going on with your favorite camboy would come to a stop? No more texts, no more flirting, just Friday night sessions like before?

You’re thinking too much again. You reminded yourself that worrying and overthinking won’t do any good. You’d just make sense of it as you go. You decided that going with the flow for now would be the wisest thing to do.

When you stepped out of the elevator after lunch, to get back to work, James kept his hand very politely at the small of your back as he led you out of the metal box. You both paused outside his cabin, and shared a brief look and shy smiles before you walked away reluctantly to your office.

You felt giddy and warm, desperately awaiting for Friday.

---

The two days leading up to the ball went by swiftly. Casual, non-sexual, but ridiculously funny texts from Bucky and a lot of sweet tension between you and James at your workplace.

Your very traditionalist father had warned you against workplace affairs while he was mentoring you to become your own boss. But now, all his warnings were meaningless because things were just effortlessly comfortable between you and James.

You could tell something shifted between you and Bucky, even when you called him on Thursday night he sounded a little… more-friendly and less sexual. You didn’t engage in phone sex but just talked for about an hour about nothing at all. It was fun and light-hearted and not awkward at all.

You noticed something then. His chuckle resembled that of James a lot. Then you thought maybe you were going crazy, after all, most male chuckles sound alike. Correct?

---

The night of the ball, you were nervous as you awaited James’ arrival in your living room. You wondered if you should’ve texted Bucky to let him know that you wouldn’t be available for your weekly cam session today. Then you decided not to, you’d just make up an excuse later when, or if, he called.

The plan was that he’d drive to your house, leave his car there so that both of you could go to the ball venue in your limo. And as of right now, you were a nervous mess, pacing around in your living room and checking your appearance constantly in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors in the room.

Burgundy evening gown; low-cut, long-sleeved and a risqué slit. The dress showed just the right amount of skin. You wondered for a second what it would be like if instead of a gentleman like James, it’d be a reckless sex-god like Bucky who was to be your date on an evening like this. Would Bucky be playful and fool around even in a crowded room? Would James do something of that sort?

Thing is, the more you observed James, the more you came to the conclusion that he was so chivalrous, and well-mannered and gentlemanly. You couldn’t even imagine him trying to make a move on you tonight, even though you’d want him to. And just as your thoughts so effortlessly drifted to James, he walked into your living room. One of your housekeepers must’ve let him in, you figured.

But oh was he a sight! Lovely black three-piece suit, black silk tie, and a lovely brooch pin with a discrete chain. He looked so well put together, and so classy and mouthwatering. Like the kind you didn’t know whether you wanted to just admire like the masterpiece he was, or if you wanted to just get on your knees and suck h-

“Judging by your stare, I suppose I’m the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” he lightened up the mood and you giggled, pushing away all your filthy thoughts.

Thing is, he had to use humor to distract himself from staring at you for too long because not so innocent images began filling his head the moment he saw you standing there. The color of your dress looked great on you. Your hair was perfect. All of you was perfect.

Only upon looking at you did he wonder if he should’ve texted his favorite girl and told her that he wouldn’t be available for their weekly cam session tonight. Then he decided not to, he’d just make up an excuse later.

“You do look very handsome, Mr. Barnes.” You complimented the man and walked up to him, reaching out to straighten the knot of his tie but really it was just an excuse to lean closer and get a whiff of that delicious cologne of his.

His heart raced at the proximity. He gave you yet another breathtaking smile. “And you look as gorgeous as always.” He spoke, softly.

You pulled your hands away from his tie and looked up at him. The closeness was making your heart flutter. The more you stared into his eyes the more you wanted to just lean in just kiss his handsome face. You were so close you could feel each other’s body heat radiating off one another.

“We should get going.” You suggested. And he nodded, agreeing.

The ride to the ball was filled with sweet tension and flirty smiles and casual, light-hearted talk. You were amazed by how easy it was to be in James’ company. How easily the conversation flowed between the two of you. He was definitely your type; amiable,confident, really charming and something about his eyes gave away that he had a playful and naughty side to him as well – which you hadn’t seen yet, but wished with your whole being that you do soon.

You only thought of Bucky once or twice during that car ride. The resemblance between his laughter and that of James was almost uncanny.

Your evening at the ball was perfect. The auction was great, the ambiance was amazing, many of your work friends were there and James was the perfect date.

You danced at some point, to a slow and sensual song but James was nothing but a gentleman as he held you close to his body. He even complimented you on your skills at slow dancing.

You were having a great time, and surprisingly, you didn’t think of Bucky once. Okay that was a lie, you did think of him once when James laughed at something you said. His laughter was oddly familiar… but you refused to admit that it sounded like it was Bucky laughing.

You glanced at the golden, very large, vintage and grand clock in the room. It read ten forty-five. You let out a little sigh, normally around this time on Friday nights you’d be preoccupied with your favorite camboy. And for the past months, you hadn’t missed a session. This would be the first time.

You looked around at the room, then turned to look beside you. You frowned when you saw that James was missing. Weird. You could’ve sworn he was here just a minute ago. You looked over at the bar, but didn’t find him.

But then you felt him.

His large frame pressed against your back and you froze. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Follow me.”

You turned to face him, and he held a finger up to his lips; asking you to follow him with no questions asked. He held out his hand and you giggled as you took it, allowing him to lead you wherever it is he was taking you.

The dimmed lights masked the two of you as you made your way away from the party and the crowd. You followed James a hallways, at the end of which was grand French doors. The whole theme of the ball was quite extravagant, and so was the décor and the venue.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked in between giggles.

James looked down at you and smirked. “You’ll see in a second.” He led you down the hallway, and past the pretty doors and you two stepped into the prettiest garden you had ever seen.

Wide and open. Pine trees around the perimeters. A large fountain which made the whole space seem like it was straight out of a dream. You could see a section of the backyard had a very well-maintained maze of grass bushes. And the entire thing was dimly lit by garden lanterns.

“Walk with me.” James spoke again and pointed at something you hadn’t noticed yet – the lovely thatched gazebo in the corner. It looked magical, covered in vines and a couple of lanterns hanging from it; yet another thing which made this space look like it was a dream.

“Sure.” You replied with a smile, linking your arms to his as you two leisurely strolled around and talked. “How did you find this place?” you asked, after a little while.

He smiled as he looked up at the lanterns. “It was a bit too crowded in there, I needed a break so I wandered around and I found this. Then I thought you should see it too.” He answered.

Something about how he felt the need to show you his little finding made you feel all warm inside. You were in complete awe of the place as you looked around. “Well done on your discovery.”

He chuckled.

James held your hand as you stepped on the stairs which led to the gazebo. He watched how you admired the entirety of the vast garden from there. The gazebo provided a perfect view of its green and lush surrounding.

“It’s so pretty here.” You whispered and you leaned against the balustrade, looking around. The garden was almost enchanting, with the lanterns and vines and pine trees.

James’ reply made your heart skip a beat. “Not more than you.”

You turned to look at him and he had a soft look in his eyes as he stepped closer to you. Like he was being cautious, but wanted to be close to you at the same time. “Oh yeah?” you teased, and turned to face him.

He nodded and stepped even closer, trapping you gently between him and the balustrade behind you. “Oh yeah.” he confirmed. Then lifted his hand gently, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear – just an excuse to touch your face really. “Keep giving me that look and I might just cross a line.”

You shivered at the tone he used. You heart fluttered and pounded at the same time. Oh, that’s how it is? Okay then.

A sudden boost of confidence coursed through your veins. “Go ahead then, I assure you I wouldn’t mind it one bit.” You smirked at the pleasantly surprised look on his face.

He smirked as well as he slowly lifted his hands and placed then on each side of your waist. His touch was gentle, and careful but it made you all hot and bothered. He inched closer and his warm breath fanned your face, your heartbeats rang in your ears already and he had barely touched you yet.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered and his voice sent tingles down your spine. Your stomach flipped as your eyes dropped from his intense eyes to his perfect lips. You knew you wouldn’t be able to talk, so you just nodded. You don’t remember the last time a man made you this nervous by just standing close to you – probably never before.

James wasted no time in leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was gentle and sweet at first, he was testing the waters. And when you kissed him back, you felt him smile against your mouth and he deepened the kiss. Placing his hand gently against your skin, cupping your face with one hand while the other circled around your waist; he pressed your body against his.

You felt his body heat and smiled through the kiss. You gently wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and held on to him as he kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

James pulled away for a brief second, letting you catch a breath before he pressed his forehead to yours. Your hands rested at the back of his neck and you gently caressed his skin and felt the goose bumps which erupted at your touch. You giggled and he groaned.

“You’re making me all crazy.” He mumbled, looking down at your bodies pressed together. How he wished you were both wearing less clothing…

You giggled again. “You’ve been making me all crazy since the day I first saw you.” You finally confessed. James chuckled and pulled away to look into your eyes.

You looked back in his and saw a hunger. You were sure he saw the same in your eyes. An unspoken desire ignited in the two of you; you wanted him. Needed him. Bad, and right this instant.

He could no longer hold back either. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before he leaned in for another kiss. And he wasn’t so sweet and gentle this time. His kiss was needy and heated. And you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm.

He pushed you further back against the balustrade. Your hands slid into his hair, messing up his already messy man bun, and he held you tightly against him as his mouth moved perfectly against yours; driving you crazy.

Slowly, his tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan gently into the kiss as he slowly slipped his hand down to the slit at the front of your dress. He pushed his knee in between your legs. And caressed the exposed skin at your upper thighs with his warm fingertips. His touch was unfamiliar, but so good. You melted under his touch in no time.

His lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck; nibbling on your skin and making you sigh in pleasure. His beard scratched your skin deliciously; making you whine and giggle at the same time. You could feel him smirk against your skin as he gently slipped his hand in between your thighs and gently caressed the front of your clothed core.

You gasped and whined as he nibbled on your skin, surely leaving marks along your throat. “Can I touch you?” he asked, suddenly sounding all soft and shy rather than the absolutely confident man who was kissing you like his life depended on it just a minute ago.

Fuck… “Yes… please.” You whined.

He kissed along your jaw, and down your neck; nibbling on your skin and making you sigh in pleasure. He gently moved your underwear aside and ran his knuckles along your wet folds; smearing your arousal around in the process.

He groaned when he felt that you were wet and ready for him. You looked down to see his hand moving gently against your dripping core but you also noticed the growing bulge in his pants. You bit your lip at the sight of it.

Fuck…

Bucky pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which make you weak in the knees. Thrusting your hips against his hand involuntarily, you tried to get him to speed up, and he chuckled quietly in your ear as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“So needy, aren’t you?” he mumbled in your ear and kissed down your neck; nibbling on your skin around your collar bones. Meanwhile you slowly reached down and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants lazily. He smirked against your skin, it was nice to see that you were just as impatient as he was.

You palmed him through his underwear and felt his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him. Bucky pulled away from you for a moment, and you saw the hunger and desire in his eyes.

“Touch me.” He said softly; parted lips, chest heaving and hooded eyes. You didn’t have to be told twice. You reached down his underwear and wrapped your hand around his length. And you stroked him gently. He groaned and sped up his fingers inside of you.

You whined and gasped against his mouth as he leaned in to give you a messy kiss, probably smudging your lipstick a little but you didn’t care. He groaned as you touched him so perfectly, pumping his cock gently and making him lose his mind.

He touched you to arouse you more, but he didn’t plan on making you cum around his fingers. He had waited quite some weeks for this, and he just needed to come undone around his cock. So he pulled his fingers out of you and lowered his pants and underwear just enough to free his throbbing, leaking cock.

Then he hurried in parting the slit of your dress, picked you up by your thighs pushed you against the edge of the balustrade as he wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in to kiss you deeply again, holding you between him and the balustrade.

Your legs secured around his waist, and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. He needed to be in you already. He couldn’t wait to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your wet entrance.

“You okay?” he mumbled in a haze. And you nodded frantically, you were breathless already and he wasn’t inside you yet. Fuck… this man was going to be the death of you.

Bucky pushed himself into you; stretching you out deliciously. His nails digging slightly into your skin as he held you by your hips, and your nails scratched at his neck as he filled you up like no one ever did; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely.

He gave you a moment to get used to him. He grunted when he felt how perfect you felt around him, warm and wet.

All your sensed could pick up on were his body heat, his scent and his breathy moans, his heartbeats as his chest pressed to yours and his messy kiss as he coaxed you into surrendering to him and allow him to make you feel good. You gave in the minute his lips touched yours.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” he whispered against your lips and you melted right into his embrace.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, gently at first. He waited to see if you were comfortable, then sped up just a little. You felt all of him, snug inside you; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you.

He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time, pushing your face into the crook of his neck to keep yourself quiet and you were sure you would be leaving behind lipstick stains on his skin, but neither of you cared.

Each sound from your lips, each sigh from you, and each moan only fueled his desire and he sped up into you more and more. His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at your thighs; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you just how much he wanted you.

Moaning, he pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how good you feel wrapped around him; lust lacing his words. Your name sounded so good coming from him, especially when he was a little hazy and pounding into you.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, making you moan and whine with each thrust. Your body moved along with his perfectly, sensually. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other; it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. And you refused to think about how familiar that moan sounded.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.

Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his back and a loud moan erupting from your mouth. Bucky’s thrusts became irregular and slower as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls; moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him, both of you gasping for air.

Bucky didn’t pull away immediately, he wanted to relish your warmth and the feeling of you around him for a while longer. He leaned in for a sweet kiss; your fingers tangled in his hair and he gripped your waist, holding you carefully as he set you back onto your shaky legs. He moaned into the kiss, rubbing his tongue against yours before pulling out of you and pulling away to look down at you.

You took in his messy and rugged look as well. Messy hair, swollen lips, slightly hooded eyes and a satisfied look in them. You were sure you looked well fucked as well.

You smiled at you looked up at him. “We should do that again.” you whispered and he gave you a big smile.

“Sure boss. Whatever you want, I’m all yours.” He answered and you hid your face in the crook of his neck and giggled again. Just one round of sex and you were already light-headed. James wrapped his arms around you, sheltering from the slightly cool air of the night.

James ended up staying over at your place that night. Even at the back of the limo you two had trouble keeping your hands off each other, and when you finally made it to your bed – you two fucked until the early hours of the morning.

You debated whether you should text your favorite camboy, then decided not to. You could just text him in the morning, right?

Bucky was in the same dilemma as he spooned you from behind, your naked body pressing against his. He wondered if he should text his favorite girl. Then he decided not to, and just cherished this night with the woman he liked.

And you two fell asleep in each other’s arms, soundly.

---

You were reluctant in letting James go in the morning. And he smirked when you walked towards him while he was getting coffee in your kitchen, you came over and wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Don’t go yet.” You whined, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

He turned around to face you. “Please ma’am. I’m only a man, not a machine.” And those words earned him a gentle, playful smack on his muscular arm.

“I didn’t mean that.” You looked up at him and frowned. He set down his coffee cup and wrapped his strong arms around you.

“No,” he leaned in and nuzzled your neck, making you giggle, “But you’ve got that ‘fuck me’ look in your eyes.” You laughed and hugged him tightly. He hugged you back. And then out of nowhere he asked, “Will you go out with me? Tomorrow night?”

You pulled away and raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a smirk on your face. “Like on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Like on a date.”

You agreed in a heartbeat and eventually let him go home.

You had a silly smile on your face after he left. You went back into your room to clean and noticed that your sheets still smelt like him. You giggled to yourself and then a thought popped into your head. Maybe you should text Bucky now.

You: Good morning, soldier. And I’m sorry.

Not even a second later, his reply appeared.

Bucky: I’m sorry too.

You frowned. Huh?

You: What for? I was apologizing because I missed our session. Thing is, my roommate broke her arm and I had to rush her to the hospital.

You lied and waited for a reply.

Bucky: Oh… I was apologizing for the same. A buddy of mine who got shit-faced drunk and I had to go find him and picked him up from a bar and dropped him home and all that.

Oh. Well isn’t that an odd coincidence.

You: Crazy hectic Friday nights for the both of us then, huh? Maybe we should catch some sleep.

His reply came right after.

Bucky: I agree. Talk later, doll.

You didn’t feel one bit bad about this whole thing. Mainly because you had just spent the most amazing night with a man you genuinely liked.

Bucky stopped by a breakfast place on his way home. And as soon as he placed his order and sat down, his phone buzzed. It was from his favorite girl. But why was she apologizing? Bucky texted her back immediately and when her explanation came, Bucky was pleasantly surprised.

Well, would you look at that!

He admitted that lying was bad, but it was just one little, innocent lie in this case. It’s not like he ignored you or stood you up, because thankfully you were unavailable last night as well.

Last night… Bucky smiled to himself at the thought of you. And how pretty you looked under him and how warm your embrace was and how the butterflies inside his stomach went crazy each time he made you cum around him.

Fuck. He smiled to himself and shook his head. He could feel how hard and fast he was falling for you. And he didn’t want to hide anything from you. So he decided that he would tell you about all about the camboy thing over a date on Sunday night. He knew you would never judge him, but he just wanted to be truthful and build this new thing with you on a solid foundation of honesty and transparency.

But unfortunately, most of the times in life; things don’t go as planned…

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #camboy!bucky #marvel au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series

1K notes · View notes

sunnysviolin · 3 years

Note

High school Sunny enthusiast here! Would you mind sharing a couple more headcanons about it? I’m so glad you’ll be able to teach again this fall, you totally deserve to develop your passion at full potential 👏🏻

Am I showing up after forever of being gone? Yeahhhhh Sorry y’all got the brain sads lol but!! I’m back w one of my favorite little universes! I actually had a meeting for our teacher prep program on Thursday which is so exciting!! We’re being assigned our working teachers sometime this month which is insane to me.....Anyway today I’m gonna clean and write!! Take some headcanons nonnie you helped to make me feel inspired again!

This ended up being more Sunny and his Mom than Sunny and high school, but it gets there!! So Sunny’s mom used to make him and Mari bag lunches almost every day. The only day she didn’t was on Fridays, because those were pizza days, and she knew pizza was Sunny’s favorite

She made their lunches the night before and they sat on the back right corner of the fridge. She liked to keep it pretty standard- usually a sandwich (or leftovers from their dinner), a snack, a piece of fruit, and some sort of dessert. Sunny used to sit at the kitchen counter and watch her make their lunches right before he went to bed.

It was one of the special things that was him and his mom. He got to choose what they had for a snack, what piece of fruit the two of them had, even what went in their sandwiches. He was the one that chose Caprisun or water bottle. He got to help his mom write a little note for Mari to read on a sticky note when she ate her food the next day at school.

It started as a practical thing (Sunny was such a picky eater, it was best that he decided what they ate so he would actually eat his food) but then it was just their tradition

Sunny was never talkative per say, but during this routine of theirs Sunny’s mom could ask him about his day or his friends, and Sunny would do more than nod or shake his head.

After Mari died, after her husband left, they didn’t need bag lunches anymore. Sunny didn’t go to school, and Mari couldn’t. Sunny wouldn’t speak, not even his infuriatingly endearing head nods and shakes. He just slept. All day long.

But after they move, after those last three days where she left him alone, something changes. At first his mother is furious with herself. She left him alone and he ended up in the hospital, how could she do that? How could she do that to her last living baby? But Sunny is changed, and not in the bad way. He’s getting up, he’s going out, he’s even seeing his friends.

She had been treating him like her baby again. She had thought that’s what he needed. He needed someone to cuddle him close and tell him he was loved. He had needed someone to make excuses, to let him sleep and process. He had needed to be in the house where he was safe and not out in the world where he could get hurt. He needed his mommy

But....maybe that had been what she needed.

Admitting you got it wrong as a parent is not easy. It gets swallowed down like medicine and lemon rinds. It bubbles in the stomach and leaves you nauseous and unsettled. But seeing her son growing in front of her, seeing the shell she had left him in beginning to crumble shows her that yes. She did get it wrong. She had let them both stagnate.

When he tells her he wants to go back to school, she cries. She cries a lot. He is clearly very uncomfortable, but Sunny’s mother holds him tightly and cries. She calls the local high school that day and tries to explain their situation. Sunny had been doing some online classes over the last four years, but his grades were abysmal, and his mother is pretty sure he hadn’t learned a thing.

The school agrees to take on Sunny, but they put him in a grade below his own. He will graduate a year late, but he will for sure graduate. That they promise her. His last school just let him fall by the wayside. This school is already planning out special practices just for him. Sunny’s mother settles the fear in her. Her boy will be looked after this time.

They are worried about his socialization and ask if there’s any hobbies he has. She can only think of blank stares and sleeping, but she tries to remember the quiet sweet boy her son used to be. She remembers endless sketchbooks and colored pencils, and the oh so perfect melody of her children together. On a whim she enrolls him in Orchestra and Art with assurances that if he doesn’t like them he can switch them out.

The night before his first day of school, she walks into the kitchen and beckons him to follow her. They don’t have a bar counter space for him to sit at anymore, but Sunny hops up next to the fridge. Normally she would scold him for doing this, but she just asks what kind of fruit he wants.

He tells her peaches, and she carefully carves them into perfect slices the way her mother used to do for her. She and Sunny begin their traditions once more.

Sunny goes back to school and it is not easy. She doesn’t make it easy. Not on him, not on his teachers, and not on the administration. She calls at least three times a week, telling them that it’s too much. They tell her to back off, to let him stumble. It’s terrifying to do that. It’s worse than any fear to let her child fall and hurt himself. But she does. She does because she’s seen the changes since she left him alone those days in the beginning of the summer.

One full semester is what the administration asks of her. Just two quarters for him to find his footing without her influence. They will reconvene over winter break to make adjustments, but she needs to let him fail if that’s what’s going to happen. He needs a mother, not a mommy. They don’t know the knife they’ve twisted when they say those words, but that knife is exactly what she needed. She agrees.

Sunny struggles to adjust but he does. His failed tests and missed classes slowly disappear one by one. He brings home a practice violin she did not buy from him, and he plays when he thinks she’s asleep. It’s quiet and unsure, but the music is there.

He invites her to his concert. She does not hug him and cry again, even though she wants to. He isn’t a baby, he doesn’t need her to fawn over him. She agrees to come, and secretly begins to covert with Kel’s mother.

She waits outside Sunny’s school for them all to arrive. Hero has come home from college for a long weekend for this. She greets each of them with a firm hug, something she hasn’t done in years. Even Basil, although he seems slightly terrified of her. They sit together in the audience and watch Sunny perform.

She cries as she watches him. She doesn’t recognize this boy. This is not her baby, not the same child she loved and then lost alongside his sister. He’s changed, someone new is on that stage performing, someone for her to discover and love.

She had been so afraid of this, so scared for that change, so sure it would only end in another dead child. Now there’s a teenager, not a child in front of her. He’s not so tall and not so strong, but he is alive and real right in front of her, and she is growing.

She can finally start to let herself be his mother.

#asks #anon #high school sunny #violinist sunny #can't remember the tag i use #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #omori sunny #omori sunnys mother #omori sunnys mom #sunnys mother #She's just...struggling #but she loves him

118 notes · View notes

jackrrabbit · 4 years

Text

practice makes perfect /// Mitsuri x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Hey! I read your Shinobu NSFW thing. I was wondering if you could write a Mitsuri NSFW thing but not as intense? Like Mitsuri and her female S/o are cuddling and things get a really steamy so they start kissing and fingering each other? Please and thank you!

A/N: REPOSTING because when I posted this a few hours ago it was glitching and not showing up in tags and stuff :( sorry to anyone who has already seen it!

I love Mitsuri and I get so few f/f reqs so ty for the request 💕 Y’all know idk how to write true vanilla so this is a little more spicy (Mitsuri and reader are not in an established relationship), but I made it soft just for you anon

Summary: When the most popular girl in school offers to help you practice kissing, it’s not like you’re going to say no.

Tags/warnings: inexperienced reader, femme preppy Mitsuri, she’s a little soft dom? like just a tiny bit, mild orgasm control, fluffy smut, crushes, modern high school AU, heteronormativity, reader thinks she’s straight lmao, all characters are adults

Okay, Mitsuri isn’t just the queen bee of your school. She’s also the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. It shouldn’t be possible for a person to be that beautiful, much less fair—what was god thinking when he gave her that pink and green hair that would look clownish on anyone but her? Those thick, dark eyelashes framing eyes you feel like you could drown in? Those long, perfect legs?

(Not that you stare at her legs or something. It’s just—your school uniform skirts are kind of short, and she always wears those striped thigh-highs, and she sits next to you in senior Biology and sometimes she stretches her legs out in the aisle between your desks and flexes them while she sighs during long lectures, and seriously, her legs are perfect.)

Mitsuri is the kind of girl who gets asked out by a different guy every other day. She has a fan club. Boys write Mr. _____ Kanroji in their notebooks, circle it with hearts, and fantasize about marrying her. She has more ex-boyfriends than you have Facebook friends. So you’re really sure why, somehow, you two have become…close?

If you have to, you can trace your friendship back to that Biology class. The teacher has a bad habit of cold-calling students for answers to questions, which makes him pretty unpopular. You’ve gotten used to it over the months, deciding that rebelling is a less productive method of dealing with it than just making sure to review the textbook chapters at least twice before every class, but apparently Mitsuri isn’t quite as familiar with the material.

When the teacher calls on her (a bit vindictively, you think, probably because she’s chewing pink bubblegum and drawing cherry blossoms in the composition book she’s supposed to be taking notes in) to ask her something about determining whether an organism’s life cycle exhibits zygotic, gametic, or sporic meiosis, she just gapes blankly back at him.

You feel sorry for her. It’s always painful to watch when someone can’t answer a question in class—you might be a fairly good student, but you still sympathize with how embarrassing it is to be put on the spot like that. The teacher refuses to move on, repeating her name and prodding her until her face is flushed bright pink and her lower lip is trembling. You’re not trying to pity her, but you can’t help it, and before you can think better of it you’re writing ‘compare diploid and haploid forms’ in the corner of your notebook and surreptitiously sliding it her way.

After the class, she pulls you aside in the hallway to thank you, eyes bright, telling you you’re so smart and kind and thoughtful and wondering how come she’s never talked to you before. “What a waste! We sat next to each other all semester, and I’m only getting to know you now.”

No wonder she’s popular. Her exuberance is infectious, like her good mood is seeping into your skin from her hand wrapped around yours. Mitsuri isn’t just pretty, she’s the kind of person who makes you feel good about herself just by being near her.

You’re about 100% sure that’s the last time the two of you will talk (unless she needs help with Bio homework and decides you’re the best candidate to get answers from). But it’s not. Mitsuri insists on treating you to boba after class—you try to deny her but she refuses to hear it and you can’t say no to her when she looks at you with those pretty jade-chip eyes. You get milk tea with black tapioca pearls swimming in caramelized fried sugar; her drink is jasmine rose fruit tea with tiny cubes of green apple floating at the top. “It looks like your hair,” you tell her, motioning toward the pink-and-green drink.

“Really?” Mitsuri’s cheeks turn red, which you notice is a frequent occurrence for her. “That’s why I got it. Isn’t it cute? I love how pretty all of the drinks are at this teahouse.”

The two of you split a little matcha cake. And then a vanilla taro cake. And then Mitsuri orders sweet potato fries and gyoza and fried chicken and shrimp tempura and wow, this girl can eat. “I kind of have a big appetite,” she tells you shyly some time around her fourth order of hanami dango. “Sorry, is it weird?”

“Not at all! It’s cute,” you blurt out, and then immediately cover your mouth. Cute? Where did that come from? That’s not the kind of thing you’re supposed to be saying to a girl you barely even know, or is it? Maybe you’re overthinking this. Mitsuri is so beautiful it’s hard to think straight around her.

You’re so busy staring down at your lap and blushing that you don’t notice she’s doing the same thing.

Mitsuri seems to take that teashop date hangout as permission to pursue a full-fledged friendship with you. Before you know it, she’s inviting herself over to your house after school, dragging you to cafés and picnics to study together on the weekends, and begging you to sit with her at lunch. Her other friends don’t seem thrilled at your being her favorite new playmate, but she doesn’t mind it so you try not to, either.

Like right now. It’s a weekend, and she’s decided that her house is going to be the setting for an overnight Bio study session slash sleepover in anticipation of the test you have coming up. You’re scouring the textbook for an answer at her desk while Mitsuri lies on her stomach on her bed with her feet kicked up behind her and crossed at the ankles. Graded quizzes are spread out in an arc around her on the cotton candy-colored duvet, and the sparkly gel pen she’s using to write flash cards is poking out of the corner of her mouth. With her fair skin barely covered by a tank top and shorts, loose hair flowing over her back, and dark brows furrowed in concentration, she looks like the centerfold of a teen magazine from the 90s.

I bet guys have wet dreams about her, you think. Then you shut down that line of thinking, shut it all the way down because you’re not supposed to be thinking these things about a female friend, no matter how pretty she is or how glossy her lips look even though she’s just wearing chapstick or how good she smells (like strawberries? honey? or whatever sweet she ate last, you’re not sure). But you can’t quite tamp down the feeling that you’ve stumbled on some unbelievable luck to get close to her.

You’re not the only one having trouble focusing on your studies. “I’m done with this!” Mitsuri exclaims, throwing down her pen so it makes a stray line on the quiz she was reviewing before it bounces off the bed. “I’m so tired of studying, aren’t you? If I learn another thing about cell division my brain is going to explode. Can’t we take a break?”

“Sure, if you want to get another 43%. Didn’t your dad say he’s going to stop paying your snack food fund if you fail one more exam?”

Her pink mouth drops open. “Hey! That’s not fair, I didn’t tell you that to use it against me. Be nice.”

But after a second, Mitsuri’s pout turns into a giggle. She hooks her foot around the stem of the office chair you’re sitting in and pulls it toward the bed along with you. “Come on! Let’s talk about love. Do you have a crush?”

You roll your eyes but relent, sliding off the chair and onto the big, fluffy bed next to Mitsuri. You can always get back to reviewing after you take a short break, right? She gathers up the quizzes and notecards and dumps them unceremoniously on the nightstand by her bed to make space for you, all too eager to stop thinking about Bio.

“I don’t have a crush,” you tell her.

“Really? There’s no one you think is cute? No one you want to get to know a little better?”

Well…if that’s what she means… You glance sideways at her. There’s definitely someone you think is cute who you want to get to know better. She doesn’t have to know it’s her—not that you have a crush on her; that would be ridiculous.

If she’s going to get that excited about your potential crush, how are you supposed to tell her you don’t have one? You’ll just have to pretend, for her sake. “I guess there’s someone. I wouldn’t call it love, but…”

Long black lashes flutter up at you as Mitsuri blinks. “Oh my gosh, who is it?”

“It’s a secret,” you say quickly.

“Aww, but I wanna know who you have a crush on!” She scooches closer to you and pokes you gently in the side. “Do I know him? Is he a senior? What does he look like? What do you like about him?”

“Um yeah, you know…him. He’s a senior but you’ll never—seriously never guess who it is, so don’t even try. He’s…really good-looking, I don’t know. He has nice hair…and, um, nice legs. And he…” you trail off, wondering what you can say about your secret ‘crush’ that won’t tip Mitsuri off that you’re talking about her.

“…I like him. He talks a lot but you can tell he cares about what you’re saying when he’s listening to you. He’s kind of dreamy and self-conscious about dumb things but it just makes me like him more.”

Was that too much? Mitsuri is looking into your eyes in pure rapture, holding onto every word you say. Are you being obvious? But—no way. She’s so loved by guys that she’d never even suspect that a girl could like her too.

Not that you like her. Not like that, at least.

After a moment when you feel your heart beating so deeply that you’re sure she can hear it too, she smiles sweetly and pinches your cheek. “You’re really pretty when you’re talking about your crush, (Y/N). You look like a maiden.”

You bite your lip, not sure whether to be embarrassed or flattered. If any other girl as beautiful as Mitsuri called you pretty, you’d think they were being insincere, but she’s not like that. Her genuine affection shines through in everything she does. If you’re pretty, she’s Helen of Troy.

“What do you mean, ‘a maiden’?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” Mitsuri says, tracing invisible hearts into her bedspread with a fingertip. “You just look…innocent somehow? Like this is your first love.”

You duck down, blushing.

“Wait, really?” She sits up and easily flips you over onto your back (sometimes you forget that a decade of cheerleading has made her at least a dozen times as strong as you are) so she can blink brightly at you. “This is your first love? Ooh…”

“Is that so weird?” you ask a little defensively. “I don’t get a lot of crushes.”

“No, it’s not weird! It’s cute,” Mitsuri says. “But aren’t you nervous? What if you fall in love with him and you guys start dating and you don’t know how to do anything?”

“Do what?”

“You know. Like, kissing and stuff. Aren’t you worried that you’ll have your first kiss with him and he’ll be like, ‘oh my gosh, you can’t even kiss, I don’t like you anymore’.”

“No one would say that,” you reply, but the scenario does strike a pang of anxiousness in your heart. You’ve always been too focused on school and friends and family to bother worrying about love, but the truth is you have worried about the fact that you’re soon going to be a high school graduate who has never so much as kissed another person on the lips.

“You have no idea,” Mitsuri sighs. “Boys are so mean. But I can’t believe you haven’t had your first kiss!”

“That’s rude,” you say, wrinkling your nose.

She flaps her hands in the air frantically. “No, no I didn’t mean it like that! Sorry! I just meant I can’t believe you’ve never had a boyfriend when you’re so pretty and nice. The boy who locks you down is going to feel super lucky that he gets to take all of your firsts.”

You sit up next to Mitsuri and lean back on her cushioned headboard. “I don’t care about that. Honestly, I’d rather have some practice before I get involved with anyone.”

A beat passes. Then— “Really? You want practice?”

You shrug. “I mean, I guess? But it’s not like I can just pick up some random guy and tell him to let me practice kissing.”

Mitsuri cocks her head to the side and long pink fringe falls away from her face. “You don’t need to do that. Just practice with me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” What, is she going to give you tips on tongue technique or something?

“…Like this,” Mitsuri says softly—and then her delicate hand is stroking up the side of your jaw and carding into your hair, tilting your head to face hers and pulling you closer. She hesitates before she makes contact, looking in your eyes as if to confirm are you okay with this? But (maybe because you’re caught off guard, maybe because you think you do need the practice, or maybe because that angelic strawberry-honey smell is way too intoxicating up close) you don’t stop her, and she leans in and completes the kiss.

It’s soft. Smells sweet. Tastes sweeter.

Mitsuri’s lips are velvety and glossy-damp moving against yours. The scent you thought was honey is really honeysuckle—there’s a fresh floral quality to the taste as her lip balm is transferred from her mouth to yours.

The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but by the time she lifts back from you your lips are tingling. You cover your mouth with your hand like a damsel from a Victorian-era novel and stare wide-eyed at her.

“How was that? Your first kiss?”

“I—um, I liked it I think?”

Mitsuri smiles at you and it’s like a ray of sunlight falling down through a break in the clouds. “Yay! I’m glad.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and you wonder what you’re supposed to do now. Go back to studying? You’re not sure you’re capable of that when you feel like she’s…still kissing you. It hasn’t quite hit you yet that this is your first kiss—something special, something you’ll never forget. The feeling of Mitsuri kissing you is going to be written on your heart for the rest of your life.

What have I done? you think, but it’s not condemnatory. It’s a question, maybe neutral, maybe hopeful.

“Come on, come here,” Mitsuri says. “You need a little more practice.”

And then she’s kissing you again, all the while pulling you closer, closer, into her lap. She breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur to you to open your mouth. When you do, her tongue slips in, prodding gently between your lips and sliding up against yours. It’s a weird feeling—you can’t say with certainty that it feels good, but it doesn’t feel bad, either. It feels like something you could get used to.

This kiss is longer and deeper, and Mitsuri is sighing into the place where your lips meet. The kissing sounds are both embarrassing and thrilling. You can hardly believe that you’re actually doing this, kissing Mitsuri Kanroji in her bedroom and sitting in her lap with your thighs hovering over hers because you’re scared to let yourself press any deeper into her.

By the fourth kiss, you think you’re getting the hang of this. Your fingers are laced in Mitsuri’s hair, pulling her bangs out of the way so you can see her face clearly. Her eyes are hazy and intense, a warm glow suffusing her cheeks, and her lips are reddened. The feeling of not knowing whether you like having her tongue in your mouth or not is gone. You like it. You want more of it. You could do this all day.

…But apparently Mitsuri has something else in mind. She moves back and looks at you like she’s got a secret she’s dying to tell you. Her hands slide up your thighs, almost reaching the hem of the skirt you’re wearing—it’s knee-length, comfortable and practical for the weather—but with your legs spread over hers, the fabric is bunched up at the juncture of your hips and legs, exposing your thighs to view. Mitsuri’s fingernails (manicured, short blunt French tips, pale pink with stripes of gold near the nail bed) scratch painlessly into your skin. “You learn really fast, (Y/N).”

“Thanks…” you pant out.

“Can I do a little more? Just a little. ‘Cause, I mean, I don’t know if you’ve ever done this yourself—”

Oh. Oh? Mitsuri’s hand is creeping up under your skirt.

“—but it’s really good to have some experience with this, too, before you do anything with boys.”

She’s touching your pussy through your underwear. Those pretty manicured hands are stroking you through the fabric, fingertips sliding up between your lips with practiced precision. Oh god, can she feel how wet you are? You’ve felt that dewy heat growing at your core for a while, but you didn’t think she would touch you and feel it. “Mitsuri?”

“Are you already wet?” Two soft fingers pet your clit, moving over it side to side through your panties. “Did you get wet for me?”

“Mm—mm—Mitsuri…”

“Can I touch?” She pops her chin up and kisses you on the cheek, and then again on the other cheek, the side of your mouth, your forehead, all the while rubbing your pussy.

On the sixth teasing little kiss, you gasp and kiss her fully on the lips. “…okay?”

“Good…” Mitsuri smoothly pushes your ass up so she can hook fingers under the waistband of your panties and tug them down past your hips. You shift and let her do it—it feels like her touch is too hot, sending trails of warmth over every place where your skin meets. Her touch lingers even as you awkwardly straighten out of her lap for just as long as it takes to remove your panties and deposit them gracelessly on the floor.

Are you doing this right? Even with your shirt and skirt on, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been in front of another person. You’ve never done anything remotely like this before—how weird is it that the first person to touch you is going to be a female friend? That you’re not doing this for the right reasons (and what are the ‘right reasons’? love? intimacy? desire?), but for practice?

Mitsuri settles you back onto her lap and slowly drags your shirt up over your bra. When the undergarment is exposed, she bites her bottom lip and sucks in a breath, and you feel eternally grateful that you, by some coincidence or trick of fate, decided to wear one of your nicer bras today. She cups the side of your breasts and runs her thumbs over the lacy wine-red fabric. “Beautiful…you’re so sexy, (Y/N). I can’t believe I get you all to myself.”

Your cheeks feel hot. Maybe desire is part of the equation after all.

Leaving your shirt bunched up over your tits, Mitsuri returns to your pussy, petting over your thighs and stroking up your mound. Her index finger dabs into the wetness leaking out of you and then circles around your clit.

Around your clit, not on it. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she’s deliberately not touching the place where you want— need to be touched. Her fingers are light and fluttery, not forceful in the least but making you crave more anyway. You try not to let your hips move, but before long you’re twitching on her fingers, trying to get her to do what you want. Your hands are braced uselessly on the headboard, but you hesitantly pick up your right hand to replace hers and touch your clit properly.

She isn’t having it. Her free hand catches yours before you can do anything. “Arms around my neck,” she tells you.

It’s frustrating to be unable to touch yourself when she just keeps building and building with these little flutters, but you trust her. Mitsuri’s a lot more experienced than you are. Slowly, you wrap your arms around her neck and wind your fingers into her loose hair.

Whatever she’s doing, though, it’s working. Even if you couldn’t feel how wet you are, you’d be able to hear it, the slick sucking sounds of your cunt dampened with your arousal. You’d be humiliated by the way it’s so obvious that you’re turned on if you were cable of thinking straight. Besides, Mitsuri doesn’t mind—at least not judging by the way she’s looking at you.

“Mitsuri…Mitsuri, can you…” You don’t know how to ask her, but you need more.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Two fingers brush over your clit again and you almost flinch, the light contact sending a spark directly through you. “Tell me what you do when you do this by yourself.”

“I…um…it’s embarrassing…”

“It’s not embarrassing.” Mitsuri lays a short peck on your cheek. “Do you know how pretty you look? I could fall in love with you right now.”

It’s not serious. It’s just the kind of thing Mitsuri says without thinking, but your heart skips a beat anyway. “Touch—a little harder…”

“Where?”

“You know where!” you tell Mitsuri, with as much bite as you can muster.

Mitsuri smiles. “Here?” She pushes a finger into your pussy and you whimper. “Or…here?”

And she’s touching your clit, rubbing over it quickly and franticly, the first direct contact you’ve had since she started. The muscles in your back tense, legs stiffening, toes curling in your fluffy white socks. “Oh— oh, oh, oh— Mitsuri…”

“Does that feel good?”

After all her teasing, it feels more than good. It’s like you’re being filled up with something, some kind of heat that her fingers are bringing out in you, and it’s about to tip over and spill out. You rock your cunt against her fingers, trying to get her to go harder—but she’s already rubbing against you so quickly that you can’t think straight.

Two fingers slip deeper into your pussy, spreading you apart and pumping your slick cunt while her palm provides sloppy stimulation to your clit. You mewl and fall forward onto her, head thrown over her shoulder, so you can feel the vibration of her soft laughter in your chest. “Do you like it? I can tell…you know, your insides are holding me really tight….”

How does she say such dirty things with that pretty mouth? You’d tell her off if you thought you could speak without moaning. “Unff…mmm…”

“I’m going to make you cum, baby,” Mitsuri hums. “You’re going to cum on my fingers, okay?”

She’s right. You’re about to tip over that edge, overflow, get off with Mitsuri fucking you with two fingers twisting and hitting your g-spot and sliding over you so deliciously that you don’t even care that all of this is wrong. “I’m— I’m cumming—“

“Uh-uh.” Mitsuri’s hand stops, still touching but no longer moving, and the heat in your pussy plateaus and then dips.

You’re so frustrated you want to scream. “Mitsuri…!”

“Can you do something for me?” She resumes the teasing movements from before, edging over your clit but not finishing it. “Tell me who you really like.”

“What?”

“I know you like me.” Her free hand, around your waist, slides up and presses her thumb into the divot between two vertebrae in your spine. “When you were talking about your crush, I know it’s me. Tell me you like me.”

“I—I don’t—“

“No, you do. You like me. Say it. Say it, and I’ll let you cum. You want to cum, don’t you? You need it? I’m going to give you what you need, so tell me you like me…”

It’s not like she’s being cruel. Mitsuri’s tone is as sweet and kind and caring as ever. Her pace is agonizingly slow and she’s right, you need it. You’re lucky your chin is resting on her shoulder because you wouldn’t be able to stand it if she saw the look on your face as you choke out, “I like…I like you, Mitsuri! I like you!”

“I like you too, (Y/N),” Mitsuri gasps, and then her fingers are moving again, rubbing your clit, making you crazy, and it’s only a second but you want it so bad that you only need a second before you— you’re— you’re falling apart—

“Mitsuri!”

Oh god. Oh god. It feels good, it feels crazy. You can’t think. You can feel the muscles in your pussy squeezing down intermittently on her fingers. She holds you still as the shocks race up through you, letting you twitch and convulse in her arms.

“See now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Mitsuri sings in your ear.

It takes you a long moment to get the strength to sit up, flopping bonelessly backward on her thighs so you can look her in the eye. “I don’t know,” you sigh finally. “Wasn’t exactly easy.”

Her eyes close when she smiles. “Don’t worry about it. You just need a little more practice.”

#Kanroji Mitsuri x reader #Mitsuri Kanroji x reader #Mitsuri x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #Kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny imagines #kimetsu no yaiba imagines #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer x reader #Kanroji Mitsuri #Mitsuri Kanroji #smut

2K notes · View notes

hufflepuffhermione · 3 years

Note

86 j/d plsssss!!!

Prompt: I'll walk you home

“Think we’ll ever have the time to go out on a Friday night again?” CJ asks, downing the last of her grasshopper.

“I’m amazed we even managed to get out of there at all at a decent time on a Friday night,” Sam says. “A transition miracle, I suppose.”

The election was ten days ago, and since then it’s been a chaotic process of moving into their temporary transition offices in the OEOB, hiring, hiring, and hiring, and working out transition strategies for the next few months. But CJ had suggested they all go out for a few drinks on this, their first Friday night together in DC, and no one had the heart to refuse her.

Josh stares at his empty glass, contemplating a third beer before deciding that since he has to be in to help interview potential cabinet secretaries tomorrow, he probably shouldn’t. Donna, who he invited along because she was the only assistant left in the building at the time CJ dragged him away from his desk, seems to have no such inhibitions, and finishes her drink with a satisfied sigh before leaning her head on his shoulder.

She did this plenty on the campaign trail, falling asleep on his shoulder on long bus and plane rides, and he never complains, but in the booth of the Hawk and Dove is not the place for her to be falling asleep. “Donna, have you had enough?” he asks gently. Frankly, he’s ready to go since he’s already made the decision to not venture beyond buzzed tonight.

“I could do another,” she murmurs, not lifting her head. “I’m from Wisconsin, I could drink the rest of you under the table.”

“I’m sure you could,” Josh says, although he really doesn’t think she should have another drink. He’s never seen her quite this drunk, but he supposes that her exhaustion and lack of a lunch or dinner break probably contributed.

“They make them strong here,” CJ notes.

That too.

“Maybe that’s because you’re tipping five dollars a drink,” Toby remarks. “You’re not in California anymore.”

CJ shrugs and reaches over, unprompted, to take a sip of Toby’s drink. “Cost of living is similar, and I only had fives anyway.”

“What kind of person only has fives?”

“The kind of person who hasn’t lived a normal life in a year. Although whether this is normal is debatable.”

“I could get used to this kind of normal,” Josh says, and he’s absolutely not referring to Donna’s head resting on his shoulder, of course. He takes a look at his watch. “But I do think I’m going to head out. Leo wants me in on the meeting with the candidates for Secretary of Agriculture at some ungodly early hour.”

“Oh, I have to do one of the morning shows, don’t I?” CJ says with a groan. “I should go too.”

“Donna, we’re all going to head I think,” Josh says. Everyone else has headed for the door, but as he tries to stand up Donna refuses to move her head. “You ready to go?”

She finally lifts her head and looks at him. “I’m kind of dizzy,” she says.

“Yeah, you might have had one too many on an empty stomach,” Josh replies, holding out his hand as she slides out of the booth. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Happens to you most of the time. You’ve got a sensitive system,” Donna mumbles.

Josh chuckles and puts his arm behind her back to steady her. “Come on. I’ll walk you home. Where do you live?”

“I…” she scrunches up her face before sighing. “I don’t remember the address.”

“You don’t know where you live?”

“I don’t remember the address! I moved in four days ago. I could drive there, I know how to get there, but I don’t… I don’t know what the street’s called. My brain isn’t… it isn’t working right.”

Josh almost has to laugh at this; every time they’ve gone out on the campaign trail, it’s been Donna getting him back to his hotel room when he’s had too much to drink. In a way, he relishes this role reversal, not to mention that with her bleary eyes and messy hair she’s somehow still completely adorable. Not that he’d ever say that or anything.

“Come on back to my apartment, then,” Josh says. “You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch tonight.”

#anonymous #asks #josh x donna #josh lyman #donna moss #the west wing #tww fic #alli's writings

36 notes · View notes

lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

THE FORGOTTEN DAY. - AKAASHI, DAICHI, KUROO, ATSUMU.

@luveranime wrote : ❝Hey Nikki its me again lmao 😂. Could you do one where they actually completely forget your birthday? With Akaashi, daichi, kuroo, and atsumu? Make it angst please🥺❞

A.N: ❝dear reader,

thank you so much for trusting me once more with your request! i always love writing the requests even more so than my own prompts. i sincerely hope you’ll like these hc’s, i tried to make these as angsty as i could but atsumu has two braincells and i could NOT resist the temptation of doing something more lighthearted, i hope you won’t be mad at me! mwah! enjoy your promised letter!

sincerely yours, nikki❞

Genre: Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Warnings: Cursing, crying.

Now, Akaashi is not one to forget about dates and birthdays. I’m pretty sure he has a notebook filled with everyone’s birthdays written in a chronological order. Needless to say, he’s someone who is extremely organized.

He is the kind of boyfriend to remember all the slightest details you mention when you guys have a conversation. We’re talking about small details, pieces of informations that others wouldn’t necessarily pick up on except if your name is Akaashi Keiji. (I.E: he knows that Bokuto-san classifies his underwear according to each day of the week.)

The week leading up to your birthday, he makes sure to leave several notes stuck on your notebooks, laptop, mug, even your jacket to let you know how loved you are and how exceptional of a human being you are.

Unfortunately for you, your birthday has the misfortune of being set right during the revision week leading to the final exams. The latter are extremely important to Akaashi because missing his exams would result in him not being able to go to inter-school volleyball training held during the weekend.

Even though he’s in a relationship, he can be quite distant when something is bothering him because he refuses categorically to drown you with his problems, revisions being one of them. He’s so driven to study hard (although he’s already an excellent student), that everything else appears as a blur to him- he breathes revisions, eats revisions, lives for revisions.

The latter causes him to inevitably forget about your birthday. At first, you just think he’s playing along with you and he has this huge and sweet surprise in store for you which might explain why he hasn’t left you any love notes or sent you any texts, or even avoid you at school.

The evening of your birthday, you crash down at his place, a bit perplexed at his antics. But, unconsciously, you were still in denial, you knew or at least hoped that he was just purposefully acting as such because he wanted to surprise you for your birthday.

When he opens the door and sees you, he has a quizzical look on his face “Um, hello, Y/N? May I ask what you’re doing here, dove?”

Now, it was your turn to have a quizzical look on your face, “So you really don’t know? Isn’t it, you know, a special day?”

His mind is so coated by his obsession to study hard that nothing comes to his mind, nothing to answer to your interrogation and eventually, nothing to leave his mouth as a response. He could swear there’s something he has forgotten, it’s somehow on the tip of his tongue but no sound is echoed on his part.

“You know what, Akaashi, just don’t make promises you can’t keep. I hope these notes you left me will help you.”

First of all, you called him Akaashi instead of Keiji, meaning that there was something terribly wrong with him or his deeds.

Second of all, he looked carefully enough, there were pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes.

Third of all, he was so taken aback, as if all his memory had resurfaced in the blink of an eye that he still couldn’t find the strength to say something. Instead, his eyes wandered on your figure, his back facing you, already on your way home. The sole reflex he had was to raise his hand in your direction, as if he could catch your silhouette already long gone, hopelessly.

Daichi is already the (unofficial) dad of troublesome children (thank the heavens for mama Sugawara and uncle Asahi), which means not only he has to juggle between his duty as a captain and as a student, but he also must make sure of the stability of your relationship.

It’s really taking a toll on him. Seeing him come home late after late night practice is not even surprising anymore, he just comes to your place and crashes down for the night at unbelievable hours- sometimes ten, sometimes eleven.

His role of captain is so dear to his heart and he’s kind of an all or nothing kind of guy. But when it comes to the volleyball team, he pours every once of passion, patience and energy he has to offer. He knows that the first years have literally gifts when it comes to playing and he wants to exploit their potential at the fullest.

Nonetheless, when it comes to remembering dates, Daichi (being an unofficial dad) has the tendency to remember rather quickly common dates like birthdays, if not, he can always count on Suga to remind him in case he gets too hotheaded into what he’s doing.

On the day of your birthday, he sent you a myriad of texts, mini-novels if you will. All of them were the testimonies of the love he held in your regard, he was so thoughtful, each one of his word was carefully chosen to make you feel like the most loved person on the planet.

Starting the day off with a series of loving texts from your boyfriend is indeed the best way to wake up.

However, after close inspection, the last text he had sent you mentioned a date tonight at your favorite restaurant in town because, and I quote, “you deserve to be treated like the royalty you are.”

Focusing in class was almost impossible, the only thing occupying your mind was tonight’s date with Daichi, just the two of you on your birthday. And truth be told, there was no other way you’d rather spend this ever so special day.

Right after the bell rang, you made a beeline to your place to get ready as Daichi told you he would pick you up at 7, right after practice. Your heart was bursting with joy and impatience, a sweet mix of emotions which made you feel overwhelmed by love.

It was 7 already and your eyes were stuck on the alley of your house, waiting to see Daichi’s car arrive and admire the beautiful, lovestruck grin plastered upon his face.

Then it was 8, and suspicions started to arise in your mind. Your head was clouded by interrogations : “Does he not love me anymore?”, “Is this is way of telling me we should break up?”

Then 9, then 10 and eventually 11.

You waited four hours to hear a sign from Daichi, and you couldn’t keep up with the countless texts you had sent him, wondering where he was. But, you still had hope. Heart-crushing hope that is, or maybe you were just stuck in pure denial.

You were sitting on a chair, several stains of tears on your cheeks already, facing the window which offered a view outside your house because “You never know, he might show up...”

At 11, your phone rang and Daichi’s number highlighted the screen. You were so quick to pick up the phone, your quickness was almost inhuman.

“Baby? Hi, it’s me. Are you still awake?” You hummed in response, scared of the way your voice would break if you were to talk. “Listen, practice-...”, you cut him off : “Practice ran late again, I know, Daichi.”

There was a moment of silence on his end of the line, a moment of guilt.

“Baby, you have no idea how sorry I am. It’s just the team and the firs-...” - “I know, the gifted first years.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“We can reschedule tomorrow if you want, I’ll ask Ennoshita to take care of the training for me.” He sounded desperate, eaten alive by the guilt consuming him and the fragile tone of your voice, you sounded like a broken record.

“Tomorrow won’t be my birthday anymore, Daichi, you know that.” You knew that if you were to hear the sound of his voice again, you were bound to break in tears, and as much as he hurt you, you knew it wasn’t his fault and you didn’t want to make him feel even more guilty than he already was feeling.

Instead, you hung up while he was still rambling about confused apologies and you headed straight to your room, head low, fresh tears crashing on the stains left by the dried tears. Like an eternal circle, if you will.

Kuroo is someone who is extremely observant by nature, just look at the way he behaves around Kenma- he doesn’t need for you to talk to know how you’re feeling and can directly dissect what’s wrong with you.

So when he finds himself having a one-sided discussion with you, (or a double-sided conversation if you deem silence as a worthy response), his brain automatically goes on retrospection mode and he’s trying to reminisce absolutely everything that happened during the last 48 hours.

The science-related puns don’t work, the teasing is a crushing defeat, all his best aces fail to put a smile on your face or make you crack a laugh. You’re still silent, or if he’s lucky enough, he can hear the faint sound of hum leaving your lips.

His last option is to ask Kenma because Kenma appears as an omniscient point of view in your relationship. And although he’s not directly involved in your couple, he always seems to find the responses to the riddles left by the cons of being in a relationship.

Kuroo and Kenma are having lunch outside, as expected of the blonde individual, his eyes are solely focused on the device held between his hands, but Kuroo is used to it.

“Man, I just don’t get why Y/N is giving me the cold shoulder, it’s really weighing on my mind.”

“Are you sure you don’t know, or do you act as if you don’t know?”

“Ha? What do you mean?”

“Yesterday was Y/N’s birthday, just in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh... Oh! It’s time to panic, it’s time to leave his brain on overdrive and find a solution to make up for what he judged an inexcusable behavior.

What broke his heart even more is when he imagined to put himself into your shoes, how heartbroken you must have felt, how alone you must have felt, he even wondered if you wanted to break up with him.

Sure, Kuroo was observant, but sometimes being a airhead got the best of him. Or perhaps in this case, the worse of him.

He froze, his mouth was set agape and kind of like Akaashi, in moments of panic, he didn’t know what to do. He felt defeatist, he knew that forgetting your birthday was a dealbreaker. He already thought of all the consequences of his actions, and he knew that none of these consequences would turn out good in any way.

He ran through the hallways like a madman, yelling to the other students to step aside as he did so. He knew where you were, and he felt so stupid for knowing your timetable off by heart but not being able to remember such a simple date as your birthday.

You were having lunch in class with your friends, and when a hint of a roster’s head peaked through the door, making hand gestures to silently tell you to come see him, you excused yourself and left the class under the puzzling looks of your friends.

To say that Kuroo was sweating was an understatement, he was absolutely shaking to death and he exuded guilt by every pore of his body. Your gaze landed on his face, and your expression seemed lifeless- where did the usual gleam in your eyes go? The shine in your eyes he loved so much?

“You’re free to insult me for the rest of my days on this planet. I know I messed up, I messed up so bad and I don’t even know how to-... Hey? Oi, Y/N, please, please don’t cry.”

If he needed yet another reason to feel guilty, that was his cue. The tears falling in cascade on your face, the scarlet tones of your eyes, everything about you screamed pure sadness.

Both of your hearts broke in unison, and the motion of his hands to capture you and hold him close to his chest was so experimental, as if he’d never held you in his arms in his entire life.

“Why did you forget, Tetsu?”

“I swear on my life that it was unintentional. I know you won’t forgive me anytime soon and, kitten, you have every right to do so. I know it’s not an excuse but just believe me when I say that it was unintentional. I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”

“Just wish me a happy birthday instead of rambling.”

“Happy birthday, kitten, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

As the manager of the volleyball team, you were Inarizaki’s pride and joy. You were a literal ray of sunshine, the embodiment of a gem and you were always cherished by the entire team for helping them so much.

You always made sure they drank enough, prepped several towels in case they sweated too much (they always did), listened to their problems, eased their doubts- you were undeniably perfect to them.

So perfect that Osamu, as well as the rest of the team, always wondered how and why you ended up with his airhead of a twin, or rather, and I quote, “The useless piss-haired twin.”

To be frank, if it wasn’t for you, Atsumu would probably be dead by now. The cause of his death? Osamu himself? The whole team? His stupidity? We shall never know.

You cannot expect Atsumu to remember any specific dates, he even struggles to remember his own birthday which results in him asking when was his brother born and Osamu letting out a desperate sigh, wondering what on Earth did he do in his previous life to deserve such a twin.

Nonetheless, Osamu’s cooking skills came in handy. The whole team had agreed on celebrating your birthday, a kind of surprise birthday after practice if you will, because you were so good to them.

The divine smell of the cake didn’t go unsmelled (please help is that even a word?? no it’s not but i couldn’t say ‘go unseen’ because a smell can’t be seen like???) by none other than Atsumu himself. “Whatcha’ baking this for?” Osamu didn’t even bother to throw a glance in his twin brother’s direction “You should know, idiot.”

Safe to say that Atsumu got absolutely z e r o information from his brother whatsoever and was thus left in general incomprehension. He then figured that maybe it was someone’s birthday given how well looking the cake was, but whose birthday was it? Once again, z e r o idea.

After practice, the whole team gathered to show you the surprise they had in store for you- Kita had stuck some ‘happy birthday’ posters on the wall, Osamu had brought the cake and Aran had the gift from the whole team in his hands. The preparation was quick and efficient, all while you were changing in your more regular outfit in the locker room.

Needless to say, Atsumu still had z e r o clue to whose birthday they were going to celebrate but the grin on his face still testified of how happy he was.

When you exited the locker room to say goodbye to the rest of the team, you were absolutely overwhelmed by joy when you saw them gathered together, a radiant smile plastered upon their face, they were so proud of themselves and most of all, they were proud to be the reason of your happiness.

Reflex kicked, both of your hands covered your mouth and your vision quickly became blurry from the pearls of tears gathering at the brim of your eyes. To say that you were happy was an understatement, you felt so moved, so touched that this whole surprise was for your birthd-

“Hold up, I thought it was mom’s birthday? Who’s the cake for?”

The look on Osamu’s face screamed “Someone hold me back before I kill this idiot with my bare hands.”

Kita threw a volleyball at the back of Atsumu’s head.

Suna was crying on the inside out of desperation.

Hitoshi was holding Osamu back.

The rest of the team eventually ganged up on Atsumu for even daring to forget their sweet angel’s birthday while you were standing there, dumbfounded to say the least, torn between crying and laughing.

You didn’t even need to make Atsumu pay for his mistake, the team had made sure to make him pay for the next ten years (if I’m being generous.)

So... Happy birthday... I guess?

345 notes · View notes

m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x reader (fluff + angst) - (COMMISSION)

When I get a commission that isn’t Danganronpa related, I keep the client’s name private and switch names and some paragraphs around to fit a Danganronpa character so you all can enjoy it. This commission best fit Fuyuhiko’s personality, so here you are - Admin Kokichi

SFW, gender-neutral reader

I walked through the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy, still toweling off my scalp after a shower in the gym’s locker room. Heavily I sighed, thankful for the much-needed sustenance that was soon to come when I finally reached the cafeteria. Sport after sport, activity after activity, it really wore the body out. Hope’s Peak really stressed the importance of the Ultimate-level students honing their skills. That’s why we were there, after all. Yes, we took general education classes like any normal student, the basics like the many different types of mathematics, general art, history, government, sciences and all that, but each student in the Main Course had several hours a day blocked out of their schedule dedicated to their specific talent and that talent only. It was rigorous, obsessive, and exhausting.

At times like this, I envied those who sat down for their talent, like animators and gamers, for I, the Ultimate Athlete, was always on my feet. Not that I’m saying art and gaming don’t take a lot out of those students, I just wanted a break from physical exertion once and awhile. My brain wasn’t stimulated quite as much as I’d like. Even the other athletes, like Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer, and Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast, had one set training area, and trained one sport for long sessions during the school day. As the all around Ultimate Athlete, the administration of Hope’s Peak had me training lots of different sports and exercise methods in short bursts. This meant running across campus from the pool to the dojo, from the gym to the baseball field, from the wrestling mat to the biking trails. Every day, a different muscle was sore, but I suppose I can’t really complain. It is an honor to be selected to attend Hope’s Peak. I mean, there were hundreds of regular students paying extraordinary rates to attend, just to be mocked and berated for being Reserve Course students anyway. I was lucky to have been chosen as the Ultimate Athlete at all, considering they already had so many types of athletes here. I think the appeal of my talent was that instead of being the best at one sport alone, I was above average at every single sport there was. Well, there was no use wasting time dwelling on my burnt-out body, because immediately after lunch, I was expected back at the gym with no delay. The longer this walk took, the less time I had to eat.

Picking up the pace, I sprinted - something I excelled at - through the courtyard that connected the Reserve Course and Main Course wings for what was a well-known shortcut to the cafeteria. Reaching the other side, I slowed my pace, my eyes landing on a curious scene that caught my attention. Three Reserve Course girls - distinguishable by the ash-black of their identical uniforms as opposed to the customizable (and optional) Ultimate uniforms - were whispering in hushed tones in front of one of the cream-colored pillars of the courtyard surrounded by some well-tended flowers. They trembled slightly, a bit jittery it seemed, and were clearly gossiping profusely like the gaggle of hens they resembled. There was malice and fear in their expressions as they looked back and forth from the object of their scrutiny then back to each other to deliberate and discuss. My eyes followed their line of sight to the opposite side of the courtyard, where the pond and benches sat. Of course, it was him. How did I not notice him as I passed by from that end? I must have been in some hurry.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, sat on the ground leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the courtyard, scrawling notes into a notebook in his lap. His brow was creased, fairly engrossed in his studies. I could tell he heard the girls chattering, they weren’t being subtle and weren’t very far away, but Fuyuhiko was paying them no mind.

“Do you think his dad threatens the teachers if they give him a bad grade?” A blonde gasped, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

“Probably, I wouldn’t put anything past that clan of brutes,” another plain-looking girl whimpered in reply.

I stopped to watch the situation play out, hiding behind a nearby pillar and ready to step in if it continued, as rumor-spreading bullies were something that I just couldn’t stand by any means. I knew Fuyuhiko could handle himself… err… maybe I was just being a bit nosey to be honest.

After a few more minutes of the clique getting louder and bolder with their insultingly toxic babble, I saw Fuyuhiko’s head snap up, throwing them a pointed glare. The flock gasped in unison, with looks of horror on their faces, and scrambled away past me and into the hall. I smirked merrily: now that reaction was the more typical one. I was just thinking how brave these girls must have been to be provoking a Kuzuryuu in the first place. Many people in the school, and just the country in general were terrified of them. I myself felt a bit indifferent about Fuyuhiko. He was in my home room and never caused trouble.

The Kuzuryuu Clan was the largest and most powerful Yazuka clan in the country, with ties to national governments, huge drug rings, and a hand in many influential corporations throughout the country. People knew to fear them and not to mess with them, like any gang. Fuyuhiko was the only son of the head of the clan, and next in line as its leader, but if you’d spoken more than two words to the guy, you’d see that it was wise to respect him, but there was no need to fear him. In fact, his little sister Natsumi, who terrorized the Reserve Course girls, probably was the reason Fuyuhiko’s reputation around the school was smeared by association. People saw her bitterness, her jealousy, her need to harass or threaten anyone who she felt inferior to, her horrible attitude, and probably transferred that fear over to her older brother, thinking the siblings must be similar. It was just ridiculous. If anything, he was an asshole at times, but not dangerous.

Plus, how could someone be afraid of a guy who looked like that? Fuyuhiko was both adorable in some ways, and handsome in others. His cute side came out through in his meager height, the way his pale skin blushed easily when flustered, the softness of his blonde hair, the small pout he wore at times. He didn’t even have ink yet like most Yazuka. His skin was milky and untouched. On the other side of the spectrum, he was handsome and manly in the way he spoke, the elegance of his expensive suits and ties, his intelligence, the way he carried himself, his sharp and intense gaze. I always thought it was more reasonable to be attracted to him rather than afraid.

He did have a bit of an attitude problem, but I often felt bad for him because of it. The quipping, feisty exterior he presented was clearly a coping mechanism, a method of self-defense after years of pressure to be a pillar of his family and being misunderstood by his peers. It probably wasn’t easy to be expected to watch or even perform drug deals, interrogations, or even murders - who knows? Then after all of that, you come back into normal society and get judged for being tiny with a baby face behind your back while people are scared of you to your face.

He projected the anger he was taught was normal, and used the years of being raised in the Yakuza to adapt and mold his personality. He often cursed out or blew up at others, was stubborn and hard to work with, did his own thing, and despite how well he thought he hid her, his personal bodyguard being around the corner ready to kick someone’s ass at a moment's notice deterred many potential friendships. Most of our home room were friends with him, but I rarely talked to him. I really only made myself known to a few of the quieter kids in our class like Komaeda and Tsumiki, even Peko herself at times… but other than them I mainly kept to myself.

I just wished…. he’d talk to me first. I was desperate to get to know him without the fear of feeling like I was bothering him.

Ok, so maybe I wasn’t as indifferent as I let on before. Now that I’ve given myself away, I suppose I’ll just say it:

Yes, I was a bit biased on the topic of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu because… I had a massive crush on him.

And it was hard, so very hard to see him in class everyday, at the dorms, around campus, and not be able to make those feelings known. I couldn’t tell if it was fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of him just cussing me out until I pissed myself, maybe a mix of all three? But now we were alone… save for Peko, who was undoubtedly spying from somewhere close by. Why should I care what anyone thinks? I was sure he’d never tell anyone if he rejected me anyway. He wasn’t the gossiping type, and he only told people what he needed them to hear. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the decorative colonnade. As I shakily stepped across the grass, lunch became the last thing on my mind, and I approached him. He didn’t even look up until I began to speak, cowardice lining my tone.

“H-hey,” I mumbled, towering above him like some weirdo. He squinted in suspicion, a small pout settling onto his lips as he silently acknowledged me. “Are you studying?!” I yelled more than spoke, my nerves taking hold. He rolled his eyes, holding the notebook up with one hand. I couldn’t help scanning him, taking in the way the sun bounced off the yellow fluff of his buzz cut, the way his chest heaved slowly, the cute little mole under his bottom lip. I was sweating, wondering if Peko would knock me out for getting too close, but also entranced in his hazel eyes.

“What does it look like?” He huffed, irritated by my very presence. He probably came out hime to be alone, after all. Now he had to deal with me right after those insufferable girls.

“Ah, haha, yeah, well anyway, I wanted to say that those girls were obnoxious and wrong. You shouldn’t let their words get to you. They’re meaningless. Y-you shouldn’t care about what they think. I-” I spoke quickly, nervously, and he parried my words instantly, tired of me wasting his precious time.

“I don’t give a shit what they think. Since you’re such a fuckin’ creep and were apparently watching the whole time, you must have seen me scare them off, yeah? I obviously don’t care, and I don’t need some rando to come give me a fuckin’ pep talk! What do I look like to you, some fuckin’ kid that got his feelings hurt by some bullies? Fuck those bitches and fuck you! If that’s all you had to say, get lost,” he spat, and I flinched backwards. He was feeling vulnerable, and biting back was the only thing she knew, like an abused dog lashing out at its rescuers. I knew not to take it personal, that Fuyuhiko sometimes said things he didn’t mean out of anger. I knew all of this, but I was still taken aback and thoroughly intimidated. Almost as soon as he’d snapped at me, he settled back into his calm studying, opening the notebook again. That was Fuyuhiko, a little ball of rage that could be turned on and off like a switch.

“Well, I, um-” I cut off my own words, swiftly turning on my heel and marching out of the courtyard, clutching my bag like it could save me from this humiliation.

“Fuck… I’m such an idiot.” I shook my head, involuntarily replaying my blunderous attempt to ask Fuyuhiko out in my head over and over again. Could it even be called that? I mean, I didn’t even get to the asking out part before I made a complete fool of myself and pissed him off. I was now rushing through the corridors of the first floor, trying to make it to what was my last class of the day after a very short lunch and some extremely demanding training. The gardening class was mainly unsupervised and casual, but I hated the feeling of being technically late nonetheless.

The term “class” is used loosely hime. At Hope’s Peak, each student was required to choose an elective course that “gave back” to the community or school in some way. It was thought to boost the school’s reputation, along with the student’s resume. That was the sentiment the school held, anyway. Some students volunteered at local retirement homes, some, like the eccentric Gundham Tanaka, lead clubs that tended to rescue animals and raised them. Others tutored exchange students in Japanese, some did maintenance around the school to earn the credit. I chose the gardening club, where students would break up into little groups and tend to all the plants, flowers, grass, vegetable gardens, and courtyards on and around campus. Sometimes we even took “field trips” to tend to other local greenery. I found it to be the most calming and quiet option of all the electives. There was very little human interaction, and it was satisfying to see the (literal) fruits of your labor grow.

Today I would be tending to the garden in the secondary courtyard behind the school. This one was more hidden away, rarely ever used, and that’s what I loved about it. But… as I turned the corner, my box of gardening supplies in hand, I froze dead in my tracks, shuffling back to hide behind the cover of the wall.

Fuyuhiko was sitting there on his hands and knees, pruning weeds from the garden. The coat of his uniform was discarded, and she sat in only his slacks and a button up dress shirt with a tie. He had little towels folded up as make-shift knee padding, green gloves on, and was leaning into his work with such fervor.

What?! I screamed internally, panic taking hold of me. I had been a member of the gardening club for months, and not once had I seen him on the class roster or in rotation. I’d been to every station, been assigned every task at least once, and I’d never been paired with him. So of course, on the day I was thoroughly humiliated in front of him, here he was, ruining what was supposed to be the most relaxing part of my day. I considered leaving, simply lying about my hour of gardening time on the school’s check-in portal, but something in me told me to stay. I sat there, fighting with myself, nearly collapsing with anxiety, and then he began to speak, tearing my from my thoughts:

“Now now, how are you gonna grow big and strong if you keep lettin’ these little punks fuck you up like this…?” He huffed, almost fatherly in his tone. I peeked around the corner, wondering who the hell he was talking to. Maybe this shift wouldn’t be so awkward with a third party to distract me from him, I thought, but when I hazarded a glance, not a soul was in sight, save Fuyuhiko. Taking a closer look, I noticed his calloused hands nestled around the leaf of a plant, and he tsk’d, observing the bite marks left by pestiferous insects and small animals. He was talking to the plant?! My cheeks started to warm up, my heart melting at the realization.

Fuyuhiko began to hum, then to sing softly, a lullaby of sorts for this injured little green darling. Holding my breath, I nearly crumpled against the wall, feeling my flush spread from my cheeks to rush throughout my entire body. This is so fucking cute, I thought to myself, glancing once more, perhaps a bit riskily. I was getting greedy, greedy for even a glimpse of seeing him in the state of happiness I knew he deserved. I couldn’t care less if Peko was sneaking up behind me with a bamboo sword at the ready.

When I looked, he was smiling, truly smiling. I’d never seen him smile like that before, a smile birthed out of an innocent and serene joy, and now I never wanted it to stop. There was no way I was turning back now.

I took a few steps back down the hall, then stomped loudly toward the courtyard, allowing him to save face by thinking I had only just approached. I knew I would be in for quite the sour retaliation if he knew I had caught him singing. He may have even gotten up and left. He looked up, still leaned over his plants but now dead silent as I entered, and when he realized who I was, his breath caught in his throat. Another expression I rarely saw from him: one of being caught off guard.

“Hey… so, I didn’t know you were in the gardening club? I’ve been in it since the start and I’ve never seen you.” I set down my box next to him and pulled out some gloves. I was hoping that acting like earlier never happened was the best course of action. Something can’t be awkward if it doesn’t exist, right? Luckily, he played along… or rather, just didn’t bring it up, either.

“Uh, yeah. I was hoping to avoid all the bullshit of the whole, volunteer-but-not -actually-because-it’s-a-requirement class thing altogether. I just don’t have time for this shit, but my academic advisor caught on and forced me into gardening. It was the last one with spots left open…” he grumbled, as if he weren’t absolutely loving it mere moments ago.

“Huh… and they aren’t penalizing you for, you know, losing all those points from the first few months you missed?” I inquired bravely. Maybe those girls were right earlier about his father threatening professors…?

“Nah, I guess not. My advisor is super chill. She worked something out…”

“That’s lucky…” my words trailed off, and we both got to work. The longer the silence grew, the more the awkward energy imposed itself on both of us. I could tell that he was thinking back to our earlier encounter by the way he made eye contact and quickly snatched his gaze away, the way she would open his mouth then close it without a hesitant word.

Half an hour passed, and my nerves were beginning to stand on edge. What was more daunting than being alone with your crush? Being alone with your crush who verbally ripped you a new one that same day.

Now mere inches away from him, focusing in on the same patch of flowers, we both reached for a small watering can at the same time, and our hands touched briefly, fleetingly before he snatched his own back, a shade of pink dusting his soft cheeks. He turned away, embarrassed, but I couldn’t have been more excited by the small interaction. Still, for both our sakes, I felt the need to break the silence.

“You… you seem happier - now, I mean… as opposed to earlier today…” It was time to bring up the elephant in the room. I saw his body tense up, his spine stiffen, and he turned to face me, dirt staining his forearms and a swipe on his cheek where he’d scratched an itch earlier.

“Yeah… I should probably apologize for that, bein’ a dick and all. I was just, really pissed and stressed. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that… it’s just… those stupid, loud-mouth, air-headed-” I saw his fists clench, his gloves squeaking a bit under the pressure. I continued where he left off, not wanting him to force himself to relive the gossip or the anger attached to it.

“It’s fine, seriously. I get it. There will always be assholes like them in the world. I don’t blame you for being upset. Besides, I’m sure it was weird to have a stranger just approach you like that, trying to give you unsolicited advice and bothering you by-”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, are you? I’ve seen you around plenty of times… and you’re in my home room.” He spoke reluctantly, clearly fighting against the compulsory need to deflect and defend.

“O-oh, yeah, you are. I didn’t think you’d notice.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Of course I’d seen him many times in the back of the classroom, but I had no idea he’d given me even a first glance, much less a second one.

“Of course I noticed. Sports, right? Exercise, fitness, an’ all that?” He nodded, smirking. God, he was so hot… I didn’t know how to contain my excitement. I was trying my best.

“Yeah, exactly. Sports, exercise, fitness. That’s me.” I chuckled a bit, finding myself more and more drawn to him with every second spent in his presence.

“Shit’s cool. I can respect someone who’s disciplined and keeps in shape. I’ve seen a few of your games,” he let slip.

“You have?” I immediately picked it up, a shiver of anticipation running over my skin and setting my pores on fire. Fuyuhiko wasn’t on any of the teams I played for and his Ultimate talent had nothing to do with sports. He wasn’t the type to go watch a sports game for fun, and didn’t have the free time for it anyway.

My eyes widened slowly, and I’m sure he could see the moment I made the connection deep inside myself almost as soon as I’d made it.

That was the day I realized that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu liked me back.

An obscene shade of red flooded onto his face and his nose scrunched up, his voice cracking as he spoke:

“Stop starin’ at me like that! The fuck’s wrong with you?!”

216 notes · View notes

raysofcrosby · 4 years

Text

WHATEVER LIFE THROWS AT YOU – m. tkachuk

authors note: oh no, not me potentially starting another series while i have a whole bunch of other things to write!!!! but seriously, this is just something i’ve had sitting in my wattpad drafts for like a year [originally it was going to be a baseball fic, but like eh.] i haven’t decided whether or not i wanted to make this a full on fic, but like– i guess that’s why i’m doing this preview thing– to get everyone’s thoughts on it. oh well, here’s a horribly written summary and a small sneak peek!!! [also, matty would be 25 in this fic!!! just for time sake!!!]

| SNEAK PEEK |

SUMMARY: It’s been 8 years since Caroline Marsh watched Matthew Tkachuk pack up his old ‘96 dodge ram and drive away from their hometown. It’s been 8 years since she watched him chase his dream, all while leaving her behind to pick up the pieces. It’s been 8 years since her biggest kept secret, came to be. It’s been 8 years since life shot its biggest knuckle puck at her, changing her life forever at a time when she thought she had it all. And here he was...back in their small hometown. No longer the 17-year-old boy who she had loved more than anything, but a man who had accomplished one of his childhood dreams...and had unknowingly accomplished the other, 8 years earlier– becoming a father. There will always be a piece of her heart that belongs to Matthew Tkachuk, but she’s not the same girl he left behind all those years ago. A lot can change in 8 years, but maybe it’s true what they say. What’s mean to be...will always find a way.

[I SUCK AT WRITING SUMMARIES, BUT HERE’S A LIL EXCERPT OKAY BYE]

Her heart was pounding against her chest, aching with every beat. It was almost as if it was desperately trying to break through it’s confinements to jump and run across the floor to the one thing that had stopped it.

She had to be seeing things. It couldn’t be real, not after all this time..right?

It’s been 8 years.

So much can change in 8 years.

So much has changed in 8 years.

People can change in 8 years. They get older and grow out of the ways they carried themselves in the years prior. So it’s completely possible that this was just a false alarm– that since this moment was something that she’d been thinking of as a “what if” situation for the past near-decade...maybe her brain was just tricking her.

Like during a shoot out, luring the goalie out with no chance of recovery with a dangler and then scooting it right by him into the wide open goal– a game winner.

And yet here she was, standing dead-still in the grocery store where the milk and eggs section met with the cheese and packaged school lunches that Ethan loved so much.

Ethan. Oh God, what about Ethan?

Her brain was screaming at her body to move out of view, but her feet were like two cement blocks only sinking her further into the abyss that was about to be a total shit-show situation.

He picked up a pack of cold cut turkey and her brain started to ransack her memories, a million and a half springing up at the simple sight.

Their picnics in that old abandoned field.

How in elementary school he’d always make her laugh by biting three holes into his turkey slice and hold it up to his face– two eyes and a mouth, a smiley face.

“Caroline? Is that you?”

She was so lost in the moment that she hadn’t even been able to register his movement towards her. She wasn’t seeing things. This wasn’t her brain pulling a cruel false alarm on her.

This was real. He was here– life’s knuckle puck to her...and it’s a goal.

She’d never forget that voice or those eyes.

After all, they were the same eyes that her son has. Well, technically...his son has.

HAHAHA YEAH SO THAT’S IT!!!! IDK IF IT’LL TURN INTO ANYTHING BC IDK IF IT’LL WORK, BUT THAT’S THE GIST OF IT. IF THIS FLOPS, YOU NEVER SAW IT!!!! :)

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl series #matthew tkachuk series #matthew tkachuk writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #hockey one shot #calgary flames one shot #calgary flames writing #calgary flames imagine #HAHAH IF THIS FLOPS YOU NEVER SAW IT #IT NEVER EXISTED #my writing

213 notes · View notes

managedmischiefs · 3 years

Text

north//chapter seventeen

genre: angst and some fluff

warnings: prison, solitary confinement, stabbing/physical violence

word count: 5k

summary: spencer needs to protect himself and he knows exactly how to do that.

pairing: season twelve spencer reid x oc

SPENCER

I had a million ways of getting out of that situation and yet, I chose the one that would cause the most pain. I chose the option that would come back to cause me the most pain.

It was dumb. Really, it was. I admit that now. I shouldn't have poisoned those drugs. Calvin would know I did it. There's nobody else it could have been. He knew Malcolm, as much as he claimed he didn't, and Calvin knew that Malcolm wouldn’t poison the drugs. Calvin knew it was me and the moment he was released from the infirmary, he outed me. He told everyone he could get his hands on that I'm a fed and that's the worst thing that could happen to me. That beating I got before? I'm about to get much worse than that.

I've been outed as a federal agent and my mom has been abducted by a hitwoman working with Mr. Scratch. I didn't think things could get any worse.

I know what I need to do and it's not ideal. In fact, it's maybe the worst plan possible. It could backfire and maybe it could get me killed. But I need to do what I have to do to survive. And if I get killed in the process of trying to survive, then whatever. At least I won't have to worry about surviving anymore.

I wake up and make my bed like usual, lining up for breakfast. And in my head, I say goodbye to my cell. My plan will keep me from ever seeing this cell ever again. I will ensure I never come back here ever again. Just as the guards shout for us to line up, I slip my hand under my pillow and grab Amelia’s note, tucking it in the pocket of my jeans.

I don't intend on wasting any of my precious three minutes on actually eating food. I can skip a meal today. I’m on edge as I shuffle through the food line, my head on a swivel and staying alert for any potential attacks. I sit down at a table by myself, thankfully unscathed for this moment. But as soon as I spot Calvin a few feet away, I’m reaching into my pocket, past Amelia's letter, and to my sharpened toothbrush.

I keep my eyes trained on Calvin in front of me, who's chatting to someone else. Staring always gets his attention, and I know the longer I do, the more it will piss him off. So I persist, locking my eyes on his face and hoping to pull his attention away from the inmate next to him. And it works, because within the next few seconds, he's sitting across from me.

"You're gonna need to grow eyes in the back of your head because you'll never see it coming."

I lean in towards Calvin, and for some scary reason, I'm calm. I'm so calm and unfazed with what I'm about to do but I don't give it a second thought. "I have a better idea."

Calvin cracks the tiniest smile as he scoffs. "What's that?"

I rise to my feet at the same time Calvin does and immediately lurch for him. Correctional officers rush over to break us up, but I'm quick to act on my plan. I aim my self-made shank at Calvin and position it perfectly so that when he's blocking it, I twist it and plunge it into my arm and then my leg to make it look like he stabbed me.

I cry out in pain but Calvin tosses his hands up, proclaiming his innocence as a guard drags him away. A guard is at my side too, looking at my bleeding arm while yelling something to another guard. I'm not exactly sure what they're saying but I hear the word "solitary" and I smile devilishly. My plan worked.

///

I've heard stories about solitary confinement throughout my years at the BAU. It's common practice to throw inmates in solitary to see how long it'll take them to crack and give us the information we need. I've seen countless prisons and jails and cells and solitary cells. But being in solitary confinement is completely different than being a federal agent on the outside. I thought it would be silent. I expected my thoughts to echo off the walls. But the only thing echoing is the cries and screams and moans of the other inmates around me. They’re shouting for help, for attention from the guards, for common human decency. It's agonizing. This endless noise is more agonizing than silence.

I lay down on the bench and close my eyes. I figure that since it's relatively dark in here, I might as well try to sleep. Maybe, I think, solitary will miraculously make my nightmares disappear and I'll be able to sleep without reliving someone's death. But every time I close my eyes, I just hear the other inmates crying out for attention from a guard. But the guards don't come. They never do. They never will. I consider shouting to offer my help, but that won't work. I don't have the energy anyway.

You'll never see it coming.

He's right. If he wanted to hurt me, I'd never know. I didn't see it the first time. Calvin has so much power in here. It's scary how much he does. It's scary how many strings he pulls. He could snap his fingers and have the other inmates on their knees in front of him, begging for their lives before he even says anything at all. If he wanted me dead, he could have it done within an hour.

I roll onto my side and cup my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sounds around me. I try to think of something better. I try to remember my favorite Mozart composition, but the notes aren't making sense in my brain and the song sounds horrible. I try to hear Henry and Michael's giggles, or hear Amelia's quick talking, or a story from my mother about my childhood, but nothing works. Nothing can drown out the screams and cries.

I quickly lose track of the time. It's not hard to. There's no window in here and the only way to tell the time is when food shows up. So I eventually get lunch and then dinner, and then I don't get anything else. Not until a vaguely threatening note from Calvin is slipped under the door. I crumple it up and throw it under the bench. I read Amelia’s letter seven times to cleanse myself.

I'm left to another restless night. I curl up again but the screams are deafening. Why won't someone just help them? These men are in agony. They shouldn't be in solitary confinement, they should be in a hospital or a mental hospital. They shouldn't be locked up and screaming for help to officers who don't give a shit about them.

I keep pulling out Amelia's letter in my pocket but as the day goes by, it gets too dark in here and I can't make out her handwriting. Of course, I've read it once and I can recite it already but I want to see her handwriting. I want to see the tear stains and the pen smudges and the mistakes. I want to have her comfort. But I can't. So I keep it tucked away in my breast pocket, directly against my heart.

I manage to drift off at some point, but it's one of the least satisfying periods of sleep I've ever had. I'm woken up every half hour or so by screaming and screaming and screaming. My head is pounding and my neck is sore from this awkward position and I'm starting to think this is worse than being in general population. Much worse.

It's suddenly morning. There's food being thrown through the slot in the door and an officer clunking along the hallway, ignoring every single inmate he passes. I grab the lame tray of food and let out a yawn, rubbing my eyes and sitting on the bench again. I eat quickly, in just two minutes and twenty seconds, and then balance the tray in the slot so the officer can take it away again.

I just sit there. It's not worth it to work out to try to read Amelia's letter. There's nothing to do but listen to the sounds around me. I can't sleep, I can't leave, I can barely even move around this tiny room. I'll just have to sit around and stare at the black walls until my time in solitary confinement is up and then I'll have to find another way to get myself thrown in here. I have to keep myself protected. If I can't get in protective custody, this is the only place where I'll be safe.

The sound of keys brings me out of my thoughts, and when the door to my cell opens, I scramble to my feet. When I see Wilkins standing there, the panic sets in. Wilkins is practically Calvin's lapdog. He eats out of Calvin's hands. He’s probably scared of the power that Calvin has, even in prison, much less in the outside world.

Wilkins pulls handcuffs off of his belts and slaps them on me, tightening them as tight as they can possibly go, but I don't complain. Now isn't the time for protests or complaints. Once they're on, he gives me a stoic look. "Let's go," he grabs my arm and drags me out, slamming the door behind us.

Outside the room, the first thing I notice is two other guards following us. That's an awful lot for me to be transported somewhere else. Where am I going?

"You're gonna need to grow eyes in the back of your head."

Wilkins leads me away from the block of solitary confinement cells and up a flight of stairs. His grip on my arm doesn't let up. It's far too tight for any normal transport. Where am I going?

"They're gonna beat you again. Might even kill you."

I know, for a fact, that the fastest route to get from solitary to the interview rooms would be to go through the cell blocks as opposed to walking around the blocks. That's how the prison is set up to be. But Wilkins makes it a point to not pass through the blocks. He doesn't want me to see who is in their cells and who isn't. He wants me to be surprised about who is going to kill me.

"You'll never see it coming."

Wilkins shoves me into an interview room, one without any tables or chairs, and one without anyone in it. But just because it's empty right now doesn't mean the door won't open in just a few seconds and flood with the inmates I sent to the infirmary or any of the countless inmates who just happen to hate federal agents.

"I can get you anywhere."

Wilkins grabs the chains of my handcuffs and pulls me towards him, unlocking them. He tucks them back onto his belt, gives me that same stoic look, and then leaves. He shuts the door behind him and leaves me in this empty interview room. I start to panic. What's happening? Why am I here? What has Calvin arranged to happen to me? Surely, he's arranged for me to be taken out of solitary so I can be killed. That must be the only option.

"I own this place."

My body jerks forward as the door opens again. My first instinct is to reach for my hip, to reach for the gun that hasn't been on my hip for months. I expect the hallway to be crowded with inmates. But instead, JJ comes in. I barely even believe my eyes. My heart starts pounding because now I have an inkling of why she's here and why this situation is so odd, but having hope right now is the worst thing to have.

"We're taking you home."

I swear, my knees could've buckled right then and there and I could've burst into tears. JJ pulls me into a hug before any of that can happen, though, and she holds me as tight as she can. It's the first hug I've felt in months and it's euphoric. The affection fills me with a feeling that I can't quite describe as anything other than pure bliss and pure relief.

"Okay, come on, let's get you out of here." JJ says, rubbing my back as she pulls away. "Is there anything in your cell you wanted to grab?"

"No, god no," I shake my head quickly, my lips quivering as I hold back tears. "Just get me out of here, please."

JJ smiles, unraveling her arms from around me and leading me out of the room. She helps me through the paperwork that needs to be done and then she gives me a box with my name on it, containing the suit I wore in court. It's not my ideal outfit to be wearing right now, but it's better than the mandatory outfit I've been wearing the last three months.

"I'll be right here when you're done," JJ smiles, gesturing to the little area where I'm supposed to change.

It feels nice to finally have something other than this scratchy and smelly blue material, and the suit I have is heavy and is a bit big now. I hadn't realized I'd lost so much weight. But I knot my tie and return my blues to a waiting officer, and then give an expecting smile to JJ.

"There he is!" I turn at the sound of Luke's voice, turning just in time for him to hug me too. "It's good to have you back, brother."

"Thanks," I mumble into his shoulder with a heavy sigh. "Where'd you just come from?"

"Oh, I was just talking to Shaw," Luke smirks, shrugging his shoulders. "He'll enjoy his time in Michigan at FCI Milan. The Bratva will be happy to see him."

I should feel guilty about that, but I don't.

"Let's get going, there's some people who are very excited to see you," JJ puts her hand on my back and guides me along, out some more gates and into the blaring daylight. It's a painful contrast to the solitary cell I was in just a half hour ago. The sunlight burns my eyes but it's a welcomed feeling now.

I grin when I see Penelope approaching and I quickly sweep her into my arms. She hugs my waist tighter than I've ever felt her do so before, and I reciprocate around her shoulders. "It's so good to see you. I missed you," I tell her, and she's becomes the first person I hear let out a genuine laugh in over three months. Maybe four months. Maybe five months.

"I missed you too, Spencer," she beams, and pulls away, squeezing my hands.

My stomach tightens with excitement and my eyes tear up for the first time when I let go of Garcia's hands. I instinctively reach for my pants pocket and feel for the letter, just for reassurance. My eyes scan for the beautiful blonde that I've been craving to see more than anyone, but I come up empty. My chest deflates and I takes a step back, bumping right into Luke, who grabs my shoulder. "She didn't come?" I whisper, my voice cracking and shaking, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks.

I love my friends so much, but I’ve seen them all at least five times since my arrest. I haven’t seen Amelia since I was transferred from Mexico and put in jail. I didn’t see her at my arraignment and I didn’t put her on my list of approved visitors. I wanted to see her beautiful eyes and feel her touch and see her smile and hear her voice telling me that she loves me.

I glance between my three friends, lips quivering. “I know I told her not to visit but I thought this was different because--"

"She's here." JJ interrupts, putting her hand on my other shoulder. "Spencer, she is here. We picked her up but she got here and she was intimidated by the building so she didn't wanna come in. She's outside by the cars. She wouldn't abandon you like that."

She's here. She really did wait for me. Well, I never had doubts that she would wait for me. But after all the times she watched my team come to visit me and after I told her not to see me when she had chances to, she still came to my release date. She still stayed by my side. Metaphorically, of course.

I nod, and in my bleary, love-struck daze, Penelope grabs my hand and drags me away from the prison. She drags me right out of the gates. It's bizarre to me, it always has been, that there are only a few fences that separate the inmates from the free world. It's just some welded chainlink. That is it.

"We went to Amelia's apartment," Garcia explains as we walk closer to the parking lot, "and she wanted to take her own car. So I drove her car with her and JJ and Luke went in the SUV."

Garcia lets go of my hand when Amelia finally comes into my view. And seeing her, standing here as the sun rises, it's like I'm meeting her for the first time. I'm meeting her all over again.

She's just as beautiful as I remember her to be. I didn't expect her beauty to falter, though. She'll still be the most remarkably beautiful angel on the face of the earth to me. And in the rising sun, she looks perfect. I wish I had her camera so I could take a picture of this moment, of her beauty.

Her blonde hair is curly and a bit unruly, probably because she was woken up by the team far too early in the morning to get here. She's wearing the oversized sweats she usually wears on lazy Sundays and especially on rainy days. Her glasses are resting on the bridge of her nose and she's fiddling with something in her fingers. I notice that there's a new tattoo on her hand, but from here, I can't see what it is. All of her piercings are missing and she just looks raw and unfiltered and just plain perfect.

She looks perfect and gorgeous and beautiful and I want to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness for all the heartache that I've caused her because of this. Forget everything I've been through. I want to tell her how much I love her and apologize until the word sorry sounds wrong and swear that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to her. But I'm frozen in my spot, just admiring her and wishing I could touch her. After so long, it doesn't seem real. Part of me thinks that a guard is about to run out and tell us there's been a mistake and they're going to drag me back inside. Part of me thinks that my mind is playing a trick on me and that my girlfriend isn't standing just a few feet away from me.

Her chest heaves and it's then I notice that she's crying. She reaches her hand up to move her glasses and wipe her tears away, and that's when I notice something else. She's not even looking at me. She's looking up. She's staring up at the sky. Her gaze hasn't deviated and I'm not even sure if she's noticed my presence yet. If she has, she's done a good job of hiding it. I follow her gaze to the sky, and when I see what's so interesting up there, it brings the tiniest smile to my face.

I breathe in a new batch of fresh air and a step closer to her. I move until I'm an arms-length away, and when I'm close enough to touch, her breath hitches. I don’t reach out to touch her though, because I don’t think either of us is ready for that. As badly as I need her touch, I need her to be fully present. I’m not even fully present yet. My mind is still lingering inside those gates I just passed.

When I step closer, her hands stop moving, but she doesn’t make another effort to start. She doesn’t move at all. She doesn't look at me and she doesn't hug me and she doesn't kiss me. And for some reason, it doesn't hurt that she doesn't immediately jump on me. Maybe it's because I'm still wondering if this is reality. Maybe she's wondering the same.

I glance up at the sky before settling on her eyes that have always enchanted me. "I'm sorry," I say softly. I watch her lips start to shake, but she stands her ground, nose scrunching up in the cutest way. "I tried to see dinosaurs and cars and lamps like you told me about, but I couldn't. I need you to teach me how to see shapes in the clouds because I can't do it without you, baby." I pause after I speak, waiting for a reaction.

I’m not sure what reaction I was expecting, honestly. But she looks at me. She averts her gaze from the sky and locks her bloodshot eyes with mine, and it’s such a captivating sight that I never want to look away. I huff out the air in my lungs and I reach for her, but I don’t grab onto anything, because I retreat my hands before I touch her. Who am I kidding? I don’t even deserve to touch her anymore. These hands have committed so many sins inside those walls. I shouldn’t be allowed to touch someone as pure and innocent as Amelia. But she just stares at me, waiting, gazing into my eyes as her body starts to tremble.

“I-“ I stumble over my words, just like the first time I ever talked to her. I clench my hands into fists and I start to break. In the presence of the woman I love, in the presence of the woman who knows all my secrets, in the presence of the woman who has never failed to remind me that she will love me unconditionally, I allow myself, for the first time in months, to be vulnerable. “Lia, I need you.”

Amelia finally breaks with my words. She lets out a sob as she nods, throwing her arms around my shoulders. She throws herself against me, and out of the three people I hugged previously, they don't hold a flame to this hug. Amelia's body is shaking and trembling against mine as I hold her with a death grip, my hands grasping her clothes. Her hands have a hold on my suit jacket, and while I wish her hands could be on my skin, being as close to me as possible, I know that won’t happen for a while, I’m being greedy. I’m just happy to be holding her after so long.

"I love you," she cries into my shoulder, and I think my heart bursts at the confession. I’ve waited so long to hear her say those words. I’ve laid awake at night, trying to recall the way it sounds when she says those beloved words, and I could never come up with an accurate memory. I squeeze her tighter, hiccuping into her shoulder as I cry. "I love you so fucking much. If you ever leave me like that again, I'll-"

"I won't." I don't even let her finish her sentence, I just nod into her shoulder. She hums softly in response, and when I hear her take a deep breath and then release, her warm breath brings a type of goosebumps to my skin that haven’t appeared since we last laid in bed together. I squeeze my eyes shut and force a few tears to fall onto her shirt. "I'm never leaving you ever again. We're moving in together and we're getting married and having a family and I'm gonna make you hate me with how annoying my statistics are and you're gonna love it."

Amelia laughs, and I swear, the sound is more beautiful than any of those Mozart or Brahms pieces I tried to remember while in solitary. Amelia’s laugh is one in a million. I should have never taken such a remarkable sound for granted. "That sounds perfect, dove,"

She lifts her head and her ocean eyes connect with mine again. She places her hands on my cheeks, thumbs brushing over my skin. She leans in close, her nose brushing against mine delicately. My eyelids flutter closed at the intimacy, and I forget that we have an audience. I forget that we're in public and in front of the place that has been my living hell for three months. But Amelia's laugh makes me forget. Amelia makes me forget everything happening for a split second, and that’s all I need.

“You promised.”

“I did,” I whisper, brushing our noses together and holding back tears. “And I still haven’t broken a promise, right? I never will.” She suddenly giggles and the melodic, beautiful, familiar sound brings one of the first genuine smiles to my face. “What?”

She trails her hands down my cheeks and to my jawline. "I was right."

My eyes open again, and my brows furrow. "You were right?"

She smiles mischievously at me, and when her pointer finger presses into my upper lip, I understand. "Your facial hair is sexy." I toss my head back laughing, truly laughing for the first time in months.

Only this remarkable woman could make me laugh at a time like this. Only she could make me laugh after everything I've just been through. She presses her body flush against mine, and while just an hour ago, a body against mine would have made me panic, our connection makes me relax.

Amelia looks up at me as a tear drips down her cheek, and she smiles. Just a moment ago, she was teasing. She was happy and she was carefree, glad to see me. But now she’s tentative. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," I answer far too quickly, nodding eagerly "yes please."

With her hands now on my cheeks, she brings my lips down to hers. And whether she was intending for it to be a simple peck or not, it doesn't matter. Her lips are soft and smooth and warm and taste like strawberries and I wish I could kiss her forever. I never want this kiss to end. I want to lay in bed with her and whisper sweet nothings until the sun rises and we realize we haven’t slept yet. I want to kiss her until our lips are swollen and then go back for more. I want to make love to her like we never have before, bodies sweaty and pressed against each other under a duvet. I want to have her lay on my chest and count the freckles on my stomach until she loses track and has to start over again. I don’t want those moments to cease ever again.

I hold her waist in my hands as tight as I can, not wanting her to run away or leave me. It's cruel of me to think that she could change on me at the drop of a hat, but I guess that's what prison has done to me. Prison has made me untrusting. Prison has changed me, as much as I don’t want to admit it. But Amelia has never given me a reason to think that she would leave me because of this. She spent months following me through a false arrest and I still think she would leave me? How awful.

I pull away, breathless, eyes half-lidded. "I love you," I confess quickly. “I love you so much. Thank you so much for being here. I wanted to see you so bad- I needed to see you.”

“It didn’t seem real,” she admits, dragging her hands down my chest, straightening my tie. “I didn’t wanna get my hopes up. Penelope drove and I just- I’d gotten so used to getting bad news that I didn’t wanna be so heartbroken if it didn’t happen.” She brings her hands further down, and then she notices the letter in my inside jacket pocket. But Amelia doesn’t take it out, she just acknowledges its presence and smiles. She fixes my jacket and then flattens it out, resting her forehead against my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist, once again bringing her body flush against mine.

I sigh contently, resting my chin on the top of her head. "Did you read my letter?"

Amelia nods, laughing, her chest rumbling against mine. "I did and I cried. Dave gave it to me and I cried and I hugged him and I hugged Penelope and it was the happiest I’d been the entire time you were, um,” she narrows her eyes, figuring out her choice of words, “well, gone. So, thank you for doing that.”

“Thank Rossi. He’s the one who smuggled in the pen and flashed his badge to get the letter in.” I bring my gaze down to her, and she lifts her head. I move my hands up and down her arms, sighing. I let myself be vulnerable again. She’s the only one I’d only allow myself to confess such things to, and after months of holding my thoughts in, I’m scared to let them out, but I know I’ll need to eventually. "I didn't lie. I thought about you every single day and you're the only reason I'm standing here right now.”

"Spencer." She speaks my name for the first time and it sounds like music to my ears. Amelia drops her hands from my waist and intertwines our fingers, squeezing gently. "You're home now and you're not going anywhere again, okay?" I nod to her as if confirming her words. "Alright. Let's go find your mom."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @4x24 @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

kickingitwithkirk · 4 years

Text

Rain pt:I

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC! Lili

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: cursing, nervous Jensen, drinking, mentions of Holocaust, mention of divorce

A/N: This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

prologue

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Jensen had been sitting in his manager's office for twenty minutes having arrived early. He wasn’t gonna chance missing this meeting and seriously wished he hadn’t drank that third cup of coffee ‘cause his leg was getting sore from the relentless bouncing between the caffeine and his nerves.

After making Jared swear not to say anything he gave him what he knew. Davis didn’t have a clue what the film was but Zimmer wanted to personally meet with him and the man didn't do face to face with anyone unless he had already decided about casting them.

Davis emphasized even if it's a small part, just being in a Zimmer film could, no, would reinvigorate his career, sending it in a whole new direction, he’d be seen as not just a sci-fi/horror genre actor but one whose name was bankable, maybe even capable of opening a movie.

Jensen jumped up when the office door opened as Davis walked in followed by an older, slightly built, elegantly dressed gentleman.

***

Eban Levi Zimmerman, who only went by Zimmer, was the decedent of two Holocaust refugee families, one from Austria, the other from Hungry. Both sets of his grandparents immigrated to Israel in the nineteen fifties, his mother and father were their middle children. They met and married in fifty-nine and he was born a year later.

He was their only child and dotted upon by all his family. From a young age he fell in love with the movies, his youth spent endlessly watching the greats of the silent era to the in fashion Cinema Italiano.

After graduating secondary school he was admitted into the NYC film school. Two years later he transferred to and graduated from USC film department.

He spent the next decade honing his craft as an assistant director for the likes of Spielberg, Scorsese, and Merchant before independently making his first film, a documentary on his family’s Holocaust experience.

It earned him an academy award nomination for best short documentary and soon studios were vying for him.

Zimmer’s directorial style had been compared to that of (One take Woody) W.S.van Dyke, bringing in his films on time and under budget.

His specialty was taking period pieces based on classic works and modernizing them with the gritty realism he learned under Scorsese. The studios learned years ago not to offer Zimmer big budget films with mindless, watered down scripts crafted for mass box office drawings only.

He was notorious for utilizing the difficult to pull off, long track shots, also learned under Scorsese. Many found this exasperating and exhausting to achieve.

A-list actors publicly pronounced they’d love the opportunity to be directed by him and some had been..but only once. He was always curtious but they learned the hard way he has absolutely no tolerance for a dialed in performance from his actors.

Behind the scenes they ended up cursing his name, becoming quickly disenchanted when they found that once in Zimmer’s domain, they would not be toadied or pampered, their whines catered to on his sets.

He also keeps an eye out for new talent, having cultivated his own small stable of actors utilizing them in most of his films as they had not only proved their mettle but earned his personal respect.

***

“Mr. Ackles, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Zimmer said sidestepping Davis and extending his hand, his grip stronger than he appeared surprising Jensen. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

Zimmer softly humphs, waving a hand, “my father is sir, call me Zimmer,” he responds in a soft spoken accent more European than Israeli. “You’re taller than I thought, excellent. Of course, working alongside Mr. Padalecki would make most of us look short, I’m sure to appear as a midget next to him.”

Jensen chuckled, “Yeah, Jared has a lot of acreage. Please call me Jensen.”

“Won’t you have a seat…” Davis started and Zimmer gives him a do not interrupt me look.

“Jensen, would you please remove your hat and jacket.” He pulled off his ball cap and jacket as Zimmer walked slowly around him, sizing him up in an appreciable manner, “veuillez m’excuser,” and with his index finger poked at Jensen’s chest and abdomen.

“What the…” Jensen jerked in surprise as Zimmer smiled at him. “I’d appreciate it if you join me for lunch. I want to discuss the prospects of you joining my new project.” He turned walking out the office door without another word leaving the two men in shock.

“What’a you doing, waiting for an engraved invitation, move your ass!” Davis hissed at him.

Jensen grabbed his jacket and cap hurrying after Zimmer, suddenly feeling like a newbie chasing his big break instead of someone in the biz for over twenty years.

Zimmer was getting into his car as Jensen emerged from the building. Taking a deep breath to slow his heart rate and steady his nerves he climbed in the back of the limousine, sitting on the long seat on the other side of the limos bar. They drove in silence for a few minutes before pulling up to the Chateau Marmont.

Lunch turned out to be what in the fifties was termed a liquid lunch at the Bar Marmont. Zimmer orders a dirty martini with three olives and Jensen has a Chimay, figuring he better stick to something that wouldn’t muddle his brain today.

Zimmer takes a sip studying Jensen over the rim of the glass demonstrating his nervous tick with his tongue, slightly popping out between his lips licking at the bottom one but acting as if he’s not.

“You’re wondering why someone like me would contact you, am I not correct?”

Jensen fully licks his lips, “Honestly, yeah, I’m confused as hell. It’s not like we run in the same circles.”

“No, we certainly do not. I keep my eyes open for talent that has been, shall we say..overlooked, or in your case, underutilized. Casting picks up on your obvious qualities and misses the more subtle aspects.”

“Subtle aspects?”

“Yes, you’ve honed your obvious talents quite well. A long time ago Fellini told me a good director will only see the surface, a great one will seek out the untapped potential.” He paused to take sip, “I will admit I’m not a fan of your previous show but a close friend of mine is. I have always wondered why my friend had watched for years, what made your show so special. They told me to watch the nonverbal relationship between the Winchester brothers, how a glance, posture, a twitch even, expresses more than written words. I then saw it.”

“It?”

“I watched an episode with the deadly sins, the one with gluttony I believe, who found Dean hollow, it was the end that caught my attention, something in your expression when you were begging for help, I knew I found my Mr. Davidson.”

“Mr. Davidson.”

“Do you only parrot the end of sentences Jensen?” Zimmer teased, “Over a decade ago a spec script was being shopped around. It was an updated version of the 1928 silent film based on W. Somerset Maugham's short story Miss Thompson, which was severely edited due to objectionable moral content...language and reference to Davidson’s title as Reverend borrowed from the stage version. It’s rather amusing the censors found those things immoral considering the lifestyles in pre-code Hollywood.

This script was brought to my attention by a studio optioning it at the time. I agreed to direct if we came to terms on the stars. They were very specific about who they wanted to star, both are excellent actors but I believed they didn’t fit the roles and suggested two other leads. Well, long story short, it fell through.” Zimmer paused again to savor his drink, “I later found out someone had purchased the script and all rights to it produce it at a later date.” He stops to nibble on an olive.

“Preproduction is currently underway, the rest of the cast has been signed and I’m planning to start rehearsals in a few weeks. The only component missing is Davidson.” Zimmer pulls a script from his inner coat pocket and sits it on the table.

“There are two things I need you to consider before agreeing: you’ll have to lose a minimum of fifteen pounds, twenty five preferably, I have a nutritionist you can consult with to safely do it in the time since actual filming doesn’t start until October.”

Jensen never had to do extensive exercising to stay in his current shape but knew losing that much weight wouldn’t be easy with his solid build, “And the second?”

Zimmer tapped his slender fingers on the script a few times before opening it, “I am trusting your discretion if you say no not to discuss the scene you read,” he slid it across the table. Jensen picked it up and scanned through the script, reading the dialogue.

He shook his head and reread through it again slowly, paying closer attention to the directors notes. “Are you seriously shooting this?”

“Yes, this is my completed shooting script for the film. You’ve done some directing, that’s the reason I showed it to you. I wanted you to know what this part fully entails.” He retrieved the script placing it back into his inner coat pocket before picking up his martini glass studying Jensen over the rim again. “And before you ask, yes, the actress playing Sadie knows about the scene and I’m well aware this part is like nothing you’ve never done before.”

“I’m sorry but I really don’t get it, why me? I’ve done mostly television, what makes you believe I can pull off this role?”

“Instinct.” Zimmer clasped his hands together on top of the table and leaned towards him, “I don’t waste my time on anyone or anything I don’t have faith in Jensen.”

Zimmer reaches for his glass again, “Like I’ve stated, I see more in your acting abilities than you’ve tapped yet. You’ll be working with some of the best in the business, co-stars who will push you to reach for that extra bit. Say yes and I can help shape you into an actor who gets the coveted rolls most only dream of.” He finishes the last of his martini.

“I’m going to say this now, I’m not missing Christmas with my kids, I’ve already promised them I would be there, it's the first since my divorce. I also have to be in Toronto in early February.”

“I’ve cut out a week of rehearsals to compensate for the producer who insisted shutting down production from December twenty-third to January third. We are scheduled to wrap filming by the twenty-ninth, so there’s no conflict with your other commitments.”

Jensen mentally calculates actual filming time will be less than thirteen weeks, a tight shoot compared to some filming schedules.

Zimmer stares him straight in the eye, “I’ll apologize now for the time constraint, a decision such as this that will affect your career needs time to consider but unfortunately, I need a definitive answer by tonight.

Zimmer stood up, “Now, the driver will take you back to your management's offices. I have a currier waiting with a contract for you to look over, I’m sure you’ll find the terms more than applicable.” He extended his hand and Jensen got up to shake it, “I’m looking forward to working with you Jensen Ackles.”

tbc

Tagging: SPN @donnaintx

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

Rain @stoneyggirl

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x ofc #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles au #slow burn #rpf fanfic #rpf

29 notes · View notes

mrs-dr-reid · 4 years

Text

She Used to Be Mine

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: The reader finally left her scum of the earth boyfriend of a year and a half, and she finds out she’s pregnant with his baby when the team gets done with a case. She lets out her frustrations about the whole situation during an open mic night at a bar, not knowing the rest of the team is there, too, and has to explain what’s been going on with her.

Genre: Oof, this is some painful stuff here, buddy. Maybe a little fluff at the end? I dunno.

Warnings: Minor language, mentions of abuse, mentions of an unhealthy relationship, brief allusions to doing the do, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, slight mentions of normal Criminal Minds stuff

A/N: I’m gonna apologize in advance for this one, guys. I’ve had “She Used to be Mine” from Waitress stuck in my head for like two days, and this came to me in a dream last night, so allow me to write out my brain vomit and slap it on the internet. Enjoy. Just a note, I have never seen or listened to Waitress in its entirety, I just know what this song is about and am writing this solely based on that one song. (Also, Y/S/N means “Your Sister’s Name”. If you don’t have a sister, make one up if you’d like)

Word Count: 3514

———————————————————————

Y/N didn’t know how she let this happen. She kept telling herself that she was going to leave him. That their situation was only going to get worse. That if she didn’t get out of there soon she could potentially die, and she never did. She had gradually been transitioning more and more of her stuff out of the apartment and into the trunk of her car to make leaving easier, and she had packed up all her things of value into a suitcase and kept it stashed in the hall closet ready to go just in case, because the Lord knows he never even gave it a second glance. Then finally after two months of delaying the inevitable, a blow-out argument and a handful of shattered beer bottles finally gave her the push she needed, and she slammed the door of his apartment behind her and never looked back once while dragging her suitcase down the stairs and out the door of his building to her car.

Luckily Y/N’s older sister Y/S/N also lived in D.C., and she was more than happy to let Y/N stay at her place until she found somewhere for herself. Y/N didn’t even know how to tell the rest of the team about the breakup, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to cover up bruises with makeup and lackluster excuses anymore. Y/N decided to let them profile it out for themselves because she didn’t want to waste anymore time, energy, or thoughts on her ex ever again.

The next day at work, the entire team immediately picked up on a change in Y/N’s demeanor, but none of them acknowledged it and let Penelope present their latest case in Madison, Wisconsin without so much as a questioning glance towards her. Well, everyone but Spencer, that is. He had his head cocked like a confused puppy while squinting at Y/N the entire meeting. Emily had to snap her fingers in front of his face at least twice to get him to pay attention again, which made Y/N a little nervous, because she really didn’t want him to confront her, mainly because she knows it’s impossible for her to lie to him.

They got on the jet, and once they were in the air, Y/N suddenly felt really nauseous and made a mad dash for the bathroom, making everyone turn to shoot a confused and worried look in that direction. Once she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her, she threw open the lid of the toilet and had at it. After she had finished, she flushed away the vomit and reasoned that she probably had something past its date for breakfast that morning and brushed it off.

Throughout the whole case, Y/N had random bouts of nausea and had to excuse herself during really important stuff to go and find the bathroom. She even had to run out during a suspect interrogation leaving Emily to talk to the perp, and had to leave while they delivered the profile to avoid losing her lunch and crappy bullpen coffee all over the suspect and the local cops. The whole team was worried for her, but she insisted she was fine and kept working, much to Spencer’s chagrin, but he just let her do what she had to do, because he’d learned to not mess with Y/N when she’s on a roll the hard way.

After they had caught the unsub and saved the would-have-been victim, Y/N found herself fighting back her own tears as she comforted the poor, traumatized girl, which was weird because that had never happened before. Once the team had packed up and got in the SUVs to head to the airfield, they had to stop at a gas station right before they left the town. Y/N grabbed her wallet and said, “I gotta take a bathroom break before we get out of here,” and both JJ and Emily nodded before she got out of the car and went into the store.

Y/N went straight for the pregnancy tests and grabbed a box of three before heading to the counter and paying, because she had a hunch she needed to prove. She went to the bathroom, and took all three once she locked herself in a stall. She set them on top of the toilet paper dispenser thing and timed two minutes on her watch. Once the two minutes were up, she took a deep breath and grabbed the tests. Y/N almost passed out when she saw that all three read “positive”, but that’s when she realized her period was a couple of weeks late.

After that realization, she smacked her head against the wall of the stall, because she knew exactly how she’d gotten pregnant: Her stupid, lowkey abusive, borderline alcoholic ex had somehow convinced her to go with him to a sports bar to meet his stupid, annoying, borderline alcoholic friends and watch some sports game three weeks ago, they’d both gotten decently drunk, and she woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and without clothes.

Y/N took a picture of the tests on her phone in case someone on the team profiled it out of her and she needed receipts, then threw them in the little stall trash can before getting out of the stall, washing her hands, and going back out to the SUVs. JJ and Emily shot her looks as she climbed into the car because she was gone for a while, but they just assumed it was #1 and #2 and didn’t say anything.

She was silent and stared out the window the entire flight back, which didn’t go unnoticed by Spencer, who left his beloved jet couch to plop down across from her at the single seater table. She stopped looking out the window and saw him doing his signature awkward smile, which made a small smile spread across her face before she said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? You’ve been throwing up all week, and I don’t think that’s all that healthy.”

Y/N sighed and said, “I’m fine, Spence. I probably just haven’t been eating as much as my body would like me to, and the bullpen coffee agitated my stomach. I’m totally fine,” then reached across the table and grabbed his hand before saying, “Thank you for worrying, though. I appreciate you a ton. You know that, right?”, making him smile and say, “Yeah, I know. You’re welcome,” before getting up and going back to his couch, Y/N’s smile growing a little wider as she watched him go.

Once the team was back at Quantico, Y/N plopped down at her desk and started doing her paperwork, but Hotch came out of his office and said, “That was a rough case, everyone. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow, call it a night for now,” so Y/N shrugged and grabbed her bag off the floor and headed to the elevator, holding it open for everyone as the team piled in while expressing their relief at the early night.

Flash forward to the weekend, and Y/N is hanging out with Y/S/N (who is the only person who knows she’s pregnant) at their favorite bar in Logan Circle. It was open mic night, and Y/N decided that the best way to get her emotions out was to do a song. There was a piano, and she’d thankfully memorized how to play “She Used to Be Mine” from Waitress when she went on a musical theater kick. So she calmly sipped on a Shirley Temple and talked with her sister while she waited for her name to be called.

After about four people did what they wanted to do, the lady running the show called out, “Up next, Miss Y/N L/N who will be playing the piano and singing a song for us!”, so Y/N stood up and walked onto the stage before sitting down at the piano and adjusting the mic. She said, “This song is called ‘She Used to Be Mine’ from Waitress,” before playing the interlude and starting to sing:

“It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

That these shoes and this apron

That place and its patrons

Have taken more than I gave them

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

I was never attention's sweet center

I still remember that girl”

What Y/N didn’t know is that the team get-together Penelope organized she declined attending to hang out with Y/S/N was taking place at that exact bar, and they were at a booth right near the stage watching her performance. Penelope had instantly grabbed Derek’s arm in worry when Y/N had announced the title of the song, and when questioned about it, she said, “That’s probably the saddest song in the whole musical! In the show, the main character Jenna’s abusive husband takes all the money she’d been saving for the baby she didn’t want to have, and she sings this song because she feels like she’s lost complete control of her life and doesn’t know who she is anymore,” making everyone exchange looks before looking back at the stage to watch Y/N perform:

“She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N kept singing, and as she did, she felt just like Jenna did in the musical: critical of herself for allowing a person like her ex to keep her locked in their relationship for way longer than she should have, and scared because she was going to be a mother, and no way was she allowing her scumbag ex to be a part of her son or daughter’s life.

“It's not what I asked for

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door

And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true

And now I've got you

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two”

Spencer could hardly believe what he was hearing. If he had an inkling that she might be pregnant before, this all but confirmed his mind that she was, but she’d have given anything to not be, which broke his heart a little. He took another sip of club soda (designated driver), and kept watching Y/N as she sang her heart out:

“For that girl that I knew

Who’d be reckless, just enough

Who gets hurt, but who learns how to toughen up

When she's bruised and gets used by a man who can't love

And then she'll get stuck

And be scared of the life that's inside her

Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her

To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone, but used to be mine

Used to be mine”

JJ let out a tiny gasp at the “man who can’t love” line, and she whispered, “I knew she was covering bruises up. Why didn’t she tell us?”, but nobody had an answer for her. As Y/N sang the last part, all of her emotions came crashing down on her, and she barely made it through without bursting into tears:

“She is messy, but she’s kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N was met with a standing ovation, and when she stood up to take a bow, her blood went cold when she saw the team sitting at their booth with heartbroken looks on their faces. She pretended she didn’t notice, then went to sit down with Y/S/N again, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, especially Spencer.

Y/S/N noticed the team staring at them, and she said, “Hey, Y/N/N. I think your friends from work want to talk to you,” which made Y/N let out a tiny groan before saying, “Fine,” and getting up to go over to the team’s booth. She put on a fake smile and said, “Hey, guys! I didn’t expect to see you here! How’s your night been?”, but she could tell her attempt at dodging the bullet didn’t work because Penelope was still about three seconds away from crying.

Y/N let out a sigh, then said, “Okay, fine. I can explain everything. I broke up with my awful boyfriend, apparently I’m pregnant with his kid, yes I’m keeping it, and no I am not allowing him to be a part of this baby’s life because he was horrible to me and that wouldn’t change if he had a child,” leaving the entire team speechless.

Emily said, “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have done something to help you!”, so Y/N burst out, “Because I was embarrassed, Em! I was embarrassed that I let it get that far, and I didn’t want anybody to know. The only person I told about any of this is my sister because I’m living with her right now until I can find my own place, because I used to live with my ex,” making a single tear fall down Penelope’s cheek, and Spencer look at her with an emotion in his eyes Y/N had never seen before.

Everyone else shot her looks of both sadness and encouragement, so she nodded before going back over to her sister and saying, “Can we go home now? I think I’m all partied out,” so Y/S/N said, “Yeah, sure! I’ll pay our bill, you can go wait in the car,” making her nod and grab her coat before walking out the door, doing her best to avoid eye contact.

A few hours later, Y/N was hanging out on the couch at the apartment catching up on paperwork after her sister had gone in for a shift at the hospital when her phone started ringing. She picked it up to see that it was Spencer, which confused her because he’s more of a text kind of guy. She answered and said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Hey, Y/N/N. Can I come over?”, which made her say, “Yeah, sure! I’ll text you my sister’s address and apartment number, and I’ll stay close to the door to buzz you in,” before they bid their goodbyes and hung up.

About fifteen minutes later, the buzzer went off, so Y/N got up and pressed the button before saying, “Spencer?”, earning his reply of, “Yeah, it’s me,” so she said, “Come on up. The door’s unlocked,” before letting him into the building. Spencer came in the door, and before Y/N could even say anything, he snatched her into a tight hug and buried his face in her shoulder. Y/N didn’t really know how to react at first, but she accepted the hug and nestled her face into Spencer’s neck.

Spencer said, “I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you,” so Y/N released her grip on him and said, “No, I’m sorry I didn’t let you guys be there for me. I let my pride get in the way, and I definitely paid the price. I promise I won’t hide things from you guys anymore. It helps no one if I’m not honest with you,” which made Spencer smile at her.

Y/N said, “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”, so Spencer said, “Yeah, coffee sounds great,” making Y/N smile before saying, “You take your cream and sugar with a little coffee, right?”, and she heard him let out a slight chuckle as she went into the kitchen. She put on a pot of boiling water, then grabbed out everything she needed to make Spencer a cup of coffee as well as her favorite green tea, because she knew that she’d receive a lecture about drinking coffee while pregnant from her favorite boy genius and she didn’t want to deal.

Y/N got two mugs out of her cupboard, and after she fixed everything up, she brought the mugs into the living room where Spencer was sitting on the couch. They sat and talked about life for a while until Spencer finally said, “So... when did you find out?”, so Y/N said, “When we stopped at that gas station for a pitstop in Madison. I bought three tests, then took them in the bathroom. All three of them were positive, and while it shouldn’t have shocked me, it did,” making Spencer nod in understanding.

He was silent for a little bit, then he said, “Are you sure you’re gonna keep the baby?”, so Y/N took a long sip of tea before saying, “Yes. At the end of the day, this baby is still 50% me, and I want to give them the best life I can when he or she arrives. It may be the byproduct of one of the worst periods of time in my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna take this little blessing in disguise for granted,” and rubbing her tummy.

Spencer smiled and said, “Henry’s gonna be really excited about having a playmate,” making Y/n say, “I don’t doubt it,” before chuckling slightly. There was a comfortable silence for a moment or two, then Spencer cleared his throat before saying, “This is probably the last thing you want to hear after everything you’ve been through, but... I love you. I think I’ve loved you since May 21, 2009,” making Y/N’s eyes widen before she said, “That’s a week after I joined the team.”

Spencer said, “I know. I know, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. If I had, you wouldn’t have ended up with... him, and you wouldn’t be pregnant with his kid, and you wouldn’t have had to suffer at his hand for all that time without any of us realizing it, and...,” but Y/N put her hand over his mouth and said, “Spence, I’m gonna need you to shut up and listen to me for a minute, okay?”, making him nod and say, “Okay,” slightly muffled by her hand.

Y/N removed her hand, then said, “Spencer Reid, if you’ve loved me since May 21, 2009, I have to admit that I’ve loved you since May 22, 2009. The only reason I ever said yes to that... douche nozzle is because I didn’t think there was any chance in hell you’d be into me. Now that I know you have feelings for me, the only thing I’d want to change is instead of my ex being this baby’s father, I’d want it to be the scrawny boy genius I was lucky enough to be desk neighbors with,” making Spencer’s eyes well up with tears.

He scooted closer, and brought a hand up to Y/N’s cheek before whispering, “Can I...? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”, so Y/N whispered back, “Yes,” and Spencer leaned in before gently touching his lips to hers in one of the softest kisses she’d ever been given. Y/N’s hands found their way into Spencer’s hair, and she held him closer while scooting into his lap, making him smile against her lips and wrap his other arm around her waist.

When Y/N pulled her lips away, she rested her forehead against his and said, “When this baby arrives... If I asked you to be their father figure, would you do it?”, so Spencer’s eyes welled up again before he said, “You can ask me right now,” making Y/N smile. She said, “Will you be this child’s father figure?”, and Spencer said, “Absolutely,” before kissing her forehead and pulling her closer to him.

When Y/S/N got home, she stopped in the living room and had to pull out her phone, because Y/N and Spencer were fast asleep on the couch. Y/N was sprawled over Spencer’s chest and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, and Spencer’s arms were draped loosely over her back to keep her close. Y/S/N took a picture of the adorable scene, then grabbed a blanket from the wicker basket they kept by the couch to drape it over their sleeping forms. As she walked to her room, she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lovebirds,” a smile on her face as she did.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @agenthotchner, @hurricanejjareau, @xgoldentigerlilyx, @therestisconfettis, @less-intelligent-spencerreid, @aryaarathornson, @thomasgibsonfan01

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

#criminal minds #reader insert #one shot #dr spencer reid

58 notes · View notes

statticscribbles · 4 years

Text

Soul

Summary: Kurtz/Reader, Soulmate AU, you gain the injuries of your soulmate and can hear their voice when they sing

You’re watching unimpressed as Malachai throws you a plastic bag filled with clothes.

“Come on, we have to get to school in ten. Your bag is in the car and-Christ you get the bad send-off?” He watches as you move jerkily, deep purple smudging under your eyes, bruises on your wrists and your shoulders.

“You ever been slammed into a brick wall twice over, after getting used as a fucking punching bag, strung up on a hook and everything?” He swallows any comment, opening the bag and handing you your clothes, you tug the crop top on and the flannel over it, before he snorts gesturing to the faint handprints he can see against your hips as you tug the shorts up.

“Aww poor thing, are you sore?” He laughs.

“You owe me so many shakes from that place you brought me lunch from.”

“Pop’s. How hard is it to remember that name?” he rolls his eyes pointing to the back to show you where your bag is, you slide in next to it and buckle your seatbelt.

“Riverdale High, by the way. Southside got shut down while you were in the slammer.” You nod shouldering your bag as Lance starts explaining most of the students.

“Archie and his friends are the goody two shoes group, well besides Jughead, and his gang, although they’re much less violent then the Ghouls.They have some members to watch out for, Sweet Pea, Fangs, oh and Kurtz, although he’s not really a snake. And then Cheryl and Toni with the pretty poisons or whatever game they’re playing.” You nod letting him continue to explain how a few of them had found their soulmates. He continues to talk and fill you in more about the gangs and the tentative truce he’s formed with the Serpents. He parks two blocks away and you give him a two finger salute.

“Thanks for the lift, now I have to go meet Betty Cooper for my tour? The blonde one that’s with Lodge right?” You look to him for confirmation and he nods.

“Glad to see you were paying attention, do you have other clothes? You’ll get dress-coded in that.”

“You didn’t bring me anything else.” You hiss at him as you cross the street moving towards the school.

You’re letting Betty pull you around you can feel eyes everywhere and you wonder if it’s from the bruises peeking out or the clothes. Maybe it's simply because you’re the shiny new student, everyone unsure how you’ll act.

“Not now I’m giving a tour.” Betty breezes by a redhead boy, Archie, your brain supplies. You watch as Betty’s eyes falter at Veronica a blush rising as you spot the identical hickeys on their necks.

“People open about soul mates here?”

“Most are, everyone wants to find their one, ya know?” You nod pretending the anxiety in your chest is from the new school not the dread of someone rejecting you. She prattles on carefully explaining your schedule and is halfway through giving you dirt on your teachers when Cheryl walks up flanked by the rest of the River Vixens.

“You simply have to try out.” She smiles, eyes roaming down your outfit.

“You seem in shape enough, we can always use more trainee’s” You find yourself smiling up at her.

“I’d love to.” You swear you can hear Lance scream in the hallway. You laugh to yourself.

She beams and wanders off, you can see Ethel nervously talking to Chuck Clayton, he’s leering over her in a way that is making her uncomfortable, Betty smiles apologetically at you.

“Sorry let me just pop over and-“

“Hey, Ethel right?” You step forward waving to her slightly.

“We share history, I’m new, in case you couldn’t tell and I was wondering if you could lend me your notes Betty said you’d have no problem doing that and-“ You turn as if seeing Chuck for the first time.

“Oh hello, are you her soulmate?”

“No but I might be yours. Chuck Clayton.” Your eyes light up.

“Oh, Ethel would you excuse us for a second, Betty wanted to ask you something.” You wait till she’s safely out of the way; you can see the rest of the football team hovering you smirk, licking your lips.

“So since you’re new I’m guessing you haven’t heard about me and my-“ You grip his wrist, your nails cutting into the fleshy under part, digging them into his wrist as he jerks it back. You stumble back pretending to be shocked already feeling someone’s hand on your shoulder. Betty pulling you away from Chuck, who straightens up and glares at you.

“Of course you’re friends with Cooper; you should have seen-“

“Chuck, let me give you some semi-friendly advice, since I’m new, and you clearly haven’t heard of me, or where I’ve been for the past few months.” He arches an eyebrow and you can tell a small crowd is gathering.

“It doesn’t matter how well you think you’re hiding it, you hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it; I will rip you apart.”

“Oh really you and-“ You snort as he goes quiet feeling Lance glaring from somewhere, just enough for only Chuck to see.

“You think Betty has darkness, I pity when you meet mine.” You laugh and he turns away from you as you return to Betty and Ethel’s side.

“You two okay? You look a little shocked?”

“We’ve never seen him retreat like that, that was incredible.” You smile and turn your head to your schedule when the bell rings.

By the time lunch rolls around the news of Chuck’s retreat had spread.

“Talk of the town you are, no clue what you did but he’s freaked.” Veronica nods to you and you sit on the edge of the couch watching everyone settle into their usual seats. You stare shocked at Kevin Keller.

“Yes?” He tilts his head as you look away smile on your lips.

“That scar on your eyebrow isn’t yours... I didn’t think I was ever going to meet you, pleasure’s all mine Preppy.” You laugh when his head whips up.

“You know Joaquin?”

“Yeah we used to bunk together, he’s an angel, amazing talker got me out of soooo much trouble in, where I used to go to school.”

“Oh you’re from the Southside?” Kevin asks, just as Cheryl returns with the Vixens.

“Who’s from the southside?” You cringe at Toni and Sweet Pea’s voices.

“This one here and-“

“Never seen them before in my life.” Toni states, Sweet Pea looks at you, his eyes widening as he pulls Toni and Fangs behind him.

“Someone we stay away from. All of us.” You raise an eyebrow at him. You can feel a hand on your shoulder and sigh.

“Yeah coming, what’s up?” You mumble as Lance moves you away and towards the outside area. You don’t look back at the group hearing other voices joining in on the confusion as you walk away. Lance slams you against the wall smirking.

“Good first day so far?”

“With you dragging me off during lunch, no, but for the most part it’s been manageable.”

“What was with threatening Chuck, he do something bad?”

“Well he’s basically the head male; gotta take him down before I do anything else. Duh.” You slide out from under his arms that cage you; you don’t flinch when he slams them back around you.

“No. You are not in that yard anymore that shit will have consequences, they’ll want you to prove that you’re dark.” You look unimpressed and nod.

“Yeah and? I can doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to let them goad me into it. I’m not you.” You slip from under his arms, scowling as he catches your wrist tugging you back, you know someone sees with how they move slightly forward, black hair, potentially Reggie from the football team, one of the safe ones Lance had mentioned. You turn back twisting Lance’s own weight against him and pinning him against the wall, scraping his cheeks against the brick. You lean over your mouth against his ear.

“I am not your plaything, nor am I you. You want to try the usual shit, you’ll be getting my real response.” Lance coughs snarling as you walk towards the school once again.

You sit back next to Betty who frowns and looks to Jughead.

“Kurtz bailing on us again, said he got a lead to who his soulmate is and wants to find them soon.”

“Kurtz? He another Serpent?”

“No, our friend, his soulmate, well we all think they’re being abused, he gets bruises, cuts, and scars all the time, he’s really worried about them. He’s not exactly the friendliest but we still want to help his soulmate at least.”

“How can he hope to find them, like the world is pretty big?”

“He knows they’re here in Riverdale.”

“How?” You look confused and Josie, Archie’s soulmate beams.

“Me. My songs are pretty much only played around this area, he heard them singing once and knows they have to be around here. Hey Reg, what’s up?” Josie turns to smile at Reggie Mantle who walks up.

“You okay?” He nods to you and you turn smiling.

“Yeah I’m good thanks Reggie, I appreciate it.”

“You sure? Seemed like Lance has it out for you.”

“Lance was messing with you?” You watch the Serpent’s tense looking back to the voice that spoke.

“Hey Kurtz, guessing that lead was no good.” The boy nods as he sits next to Jughead.

“Yeah just like the others, now what is this about Lance causing havoc?”

“Chaos actually. It’s his thing, he likes to pretend he’s the new Malachai, mostly just a rip off to be honest.” Sweet Pea nods to Kurtz and you watch as he rubs his own wrist.

“You okay?” You can see a bruise peeking out from his collar, he nods shrugging.

“My soulmate, they get in a lot of fights.”

“Fights? You should probably have a word about that then.” You laugh a little and he scowls.

“Little hard when I can’t talk to them yeah.”

“You can sing right? Sing-ask.”

“Sing-ask?”

“Yeah like you don’t make up a song but you use an already existing song to form out a ‘letter’ of sorts, you can’t use it for places but its good for planning meet-ups. Where are you-“You look confused as Kurtz vanishes.

“He’s embarrassed of his singing voice.” You nod, frowning when you can hear your soulmate singing.

“You okay?” You tilt your head at Veronica as she asks.

“Yeah, my soulmate likes to sing on lunch break. It’s nice.”

“Do you do check in songs?”

“Oh yeah, I usually don’t get to sing much, my dad’s pretty strict.” You bite down the rule you want to spit up. Singing leads to identification; which leads to jail.

“Oh that’s so cute! Do you have specific songs for specific times of the day? Like Betty and I used to sing goodnight to each other.” Veronica places her hand over Betty’s who blushes.

“We have a couple, mainly just comfort songs, I think my soulmate deals with a lot. He's always sad.” You shrug listening to him start and cut off halfway through the song. You laugh a little.

“It seems like he wants to say something, but he’s failing I guess.” You laugh again closing your eyes and focusing on what he’s singing. You can’t help but smile laughing once again as the half song ends.

“What?” Betty and Kevin’s eyes spark.

“Apparently my soulmate wants to meet up, we’ve tried meeting up in the past but my dad found out and kept me home. He thinks I’m too young to find my soulmate; that I still need to mature and grow-up before we meet. I think he’s just scared about me dating.” You cover the truth, your father is scared, not of you dating, but of exposure, you know you can’t exactly bring your soulmate back to the house of the dead, back into the Ghoulies without him first being vetted.

“We can help you sneak out!! Just say you’re staying with me or Betty.” Archie nods excitedly and you smile.

“Alright, I’ll call him now.” You pull your phone out, calling your brother instead. You cringe when you can hear him outside the student lounge.

“Hey, uhh, can I stay over at a friends today? I have to work on a biology lab. Her name is-“

“Call him yourself.” He hangs up and you glare.

“Did he say no?”

“No, he said he was busy, I’ll call during Biology then.” You smile excitedly.

You’re working on the lab in Biology when you step into the lab closet after the teacher said you could call.

“Hey, I was just wondering if-“

“You wanna stay at a friends for the night right? Your brother called and told me. Fine. On one condition.”

“Of course.” You know well enough not to answer before hearing but the thought of meeting your soulmate has you willing to take whatever punishment he deems fit.

“I pick you up in the morning, now which house?” You suck in a breath.

“Let me get her address and-“

“Her name is all I need.”

“Betty Cooper.”

“Glad you’re making useful friends.” He drawls before he hands up, you retreat back to your seat shooting a thumbs up to Betty.

“He just said he wanted to pick me up in the morning.” Betty smiles.

“That won't be a problem we can just explain to your soulmate when you meet him.”

“We?”

“I’m not letting you go to meet your soulmate alone, what if they try to hurt you?” I can hurt them more. You smile at her.

“Thanks Betty.”

“Besides Veronica and I could use a date, where are we meeting?” You laugh a little as a chorus of Pop goes the weasel plays again as it had been for the past hour.

“Somewhere called Pop I think? Well Pop goes the weasel so.” You shrug and Betty laughs.

“Oh that’s clever, is there a time?”

-It’s a quarter after one I’m a little- Pop goes- It’s a quarter after one I’m a little- Pop goes-

“Quarter after one, no clue if its in the morning or not. Since tomorrow is Saturday.” Betty smiles.

“Well Pop’s it is, we can get a late night burger, hopefully he means one am.”

You’re trying not to fall asleep, Betty had insisted you both show up in your pyjama’s and you’d been thankful when she offered for you to change in the bathroom, you wipe the last smudges of the makeup from your neck hoping she wont comment on the lingering finger prints around your throat. She doesn’t as she pulls you to Pop’s mindful of your wrist. You try your best to bite down the tang of rejection, you know will bloom once your father picks you up tomorrow.

“So who’re we looking for?” You blink at her shrugging.

“Someone with this.” You tilt your neck up exposing the full handprint over your throat.

“O-Okay.” She chokes a little and you nod in understanding.

-You’re about to sit in a booth when a hand waves you both over.

“Kurtz, hey what’re you doing?”

“Following a lead, my soulmate kept singing Pop goes the weasel, either they were babysitting or were trying to respond to the message I left. Hey Veronica.” He nods as she walks up smiling.

“Betty I got us a booth so Y/N can wait for her soulmate, on her own.” She nods to Kurtz who arches an eyebrow.

“You’re waiting for your soulmate?” He leans forward slightly.

“Yeah, I’ve been listening to, it’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk and I need you now, on repeat for three hours, so I guess this was the appropriate time. God forbid my soulmate couldn’t just mean the afternoon.” Kurtz snorts.

“Your soulmate a night owl then?” You sit across from him shrugging.

“I’ve probably given him that impression of me. My dad’s super strict to say the least.”

“Strict is a funny way to say abusive, unless he didn’t give you that?” he tilts his head up towards your neck and you catch the hand print on his.

“Oh my god. Shit.” You shift in the seat looking nervously at him.

“What? Is it the Serpent thing?”

“My dad, oh my god.” You look up wide eyed once more.

“You’re the like gargoyle gang guy…...” He reaches out hand brushing yours.

“You don’t have a problem with that.”

“My dad, fucking- I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” You squeeze your eyes shut and can feel him slide over to your side of the booth, his arm wrapping around you.

“Hey come on, your dad won’t know I’m into gargoyles, it’ll be fine.”

“He adopted me when I was five.” You blurt out, and Kurtz smiles.

“See you’re not even related to him, you’ll be fine I promise.” He offers a crooked smile.

“My brother, well adopted brother, Lance. We grew up at the sister’s of quiet mercy, we-“ You cut yourself off shaking your head and curling into his side sighing.

“This is nice.” You let yourself stay curled in his arms trying your best not to think of the scars your father left marking you and Lance as his.

Support My Writing?

46 notes · View notes

ezgithechaotic · 4 years

Text

The Parent Trap | Chapter Three; bad to the bone

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

AU: The Parent Trap, dad!harry

series summary: Identical twins Benjamin and Edward, separated at birth and each raised by one of their biological parents, later discover each other for the first time at summer camp and make a plan to bring their wayward parents back together.

chapter summary; Benjamin and Edward discover what enemies mean.

author note; I don’t know why but it took very long for me to start to write this chapter but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, ı guess.

I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. My askbox is always open if you want to talk. Please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

Taglist is open. (10\20)

The Parent Trap Masterlist

Edward hated places full of people. He hated it. It was overwhelming and loud, and it made him sweat through his clothes. He liked being alone, spending time on his own. If he had to be around people, he would choose adults. Not eight to twelve years olds running around him, making him anxious. If it weren't for his mother's sake, Edward wouldn't be there. And it wasn’t really his priority to make friends either.

He never really understood the concept of having a lot of friends. He had Nate, his mother, his aunt, Becky, and his grandfather. He had his little family and was very happy with it. Meeting new people and making friends wasn't his thing, it had never been. But Edward loved making his mother happy. Seeing her smile was his only purpose. He knew Y\N only wanted him to have a good childhood. He understood that. But while sitting alone at the corner at lunch on the first day, he was starting to question his decisions.

He could feel his anxiety taking over his brain, starting to panic. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours, and Edward was already losing his mind. He had no idea how to handle the camp for six weeks, and he was far from making any friends. He felt like he was failing while he was supposed to have fun.

"Hey, buddy." When Edward looked up, he saw one of the counselors standing with a tray in her hand. "Can I sit?" she asked, and Edward slowly nodded his head.

An adult, finally.

Unlike the kids of his age, Edward loved adults. He listened to old songs, read the old books. Everything his mother knew, he knew. So that way, Edward felt like talking to an adult was easier. It was easier than talking to any kid at his age, hell, it was easier than sitting in a room full of kids at his age.

"Not any friends yet?" She smiled like she knew how hard it was for him.

"I'm not the social type, to be honest." He shrugged, wanting to show he was okay with it.

"You're not wrong," She looked over her shoulder, eyeing all the kids around them. "kids are scary. But, it's not that bad to have a fencing partner."

Edward's eyes shined as he heard the sport. "Wait, there are people who know to fence here?" He really couldn't see the potential in those kids.

"Not much, only a few. But I think you would make a good competition." The counselor's words were the only things that made Edward smile since he had gotten there. "Well, I could try," he said, and it made him remember Nate. Maybe you'll find somebody who can beat you at poker, Nate had said as he gave Edward a new deck of cards. He doubted it then, but maybe he could find a friend. If kids there knew how to fence, one of them surely would know hot to play poker, right?

"Excellent, Ben! The winner and still undefeated champion from London, England Mister Benjamin Styles!" One of the counselors whose name was Maggie said, as Benjamin defeated his last opponent at fencing. His smile grew behind the mask. At last, his father's weird interests were getting handy. He had never thought he would use fencing anywhere. Maggie, the counselor, searched through the crowd around them to find someone who would be a good competitor against Benjamin. And her eyes found Edward, who was standing at the corner with a few new friends, he discovered it was not that bad to have friends, watching rather uninterested. "Ed, why don't you give it a try?"

Edward couldn't understand what she had said for a second as he felt all the eyes turned to him. Chill, he thought to himself, it's just fencing. It was one of the few things he was good at, so he was determined not to screw. Edward nodded and left the corner to wear the white suit.

He thanked and took his weapon from his new friend and walked to his opponent. As he got closer, his confidence and courage grew. Now, he was standing face to face with his opponent, whose name he didn't know. "Fencers, ready?" They heard Maggie calling to them. Benjamin spun his weapon in his hand with confidence. "Ready," he said. Edward tossed the metal up with his foot and caught it mid-air. "All set."

They crossed their weapons. "On guard!" Edward tensed, and Benjamin strengthened his hold. "Fence!" Their weapons hit, and as Edward took a step forward, Benjamin took one back. While they moved with synchronization, the grass under their feet turned to sand. Boys dodged each other and got closer.

Edward felt like everything was moving around so fast. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. On the other hand, Benjamin was glad that he finally found someone who could fence but couldn't help feeling annoyed that his opponent was slightly better than him. They made their way's through trees. Clashing sounds were echoing around them, and the crowd, which was watching them, was getting bigger.

Kids ran away when they saw Edward and Benjamin coming towards them. Benjamin pushed Edward to a plank of carved wood and Edward dodged his weapon by turning around himself, and taking a step back. Edward jumped over a hay bail as Benjamin chased him. He rested against hay bails, and when Benjamin struck his weapon harder this time. As Benjamin tried to strike once more, Edward jumped on hay bails and caught his flying weapon mid-air.

"Nice catch!" Benjamin said.

"Thanks!" Edward was feeling more and more confident.

Benjamin saved his weapon, where it stuck and swung. Edward jumped not to get hit and landed in front of one of the cabins' veranda. Benjamin climbed the stairs to catch up with him. Metal clinking got more intense as Edward cornered Benjamin in the balcony. Benjamin took a step back to dodge his opponent, but Edward's weapon hit him in the chest. He rolled over the boarding of the veranda and found himself in the cold water.

"Sorry, let me help you!" Edward thrust out his hand to help him. Benjamin gripped his hand. "No, let me help you!" he said and pulled Edward to water.

"Why would you do that!" Edward yelled. Both of them drenched in water, now.

"Me?" Benjamin argued. "You pushed me in!"

"I didn't!"

"Okay!" Maggie chirped and boys got out of water. "That was quite a show. I think we got ourselves a new camp champion from California Mister Edward Y\L\N!" They took their mask off as the crowd around them clapped. "Alright, boys shake hands." Benjamin and Edward turned to each other with a sigh.

The moment Edward saw Benjamin, he felt like he was looking to a mirror. Benjamin stretched his hand out, and Edward grasped his hand. They felt the electricity going through their bodies, as they shook hands, it was almost magical. Benjamin was sure he had never felt this strange before. The kids, around them, gasped and whispered.

"Look at them!"

"They look alike!"

Both of them withdrew their hands as Maggie walked to them. Benjamin scratched his neck with a confused look on his face. "Why is everyone staring?" Now, with a few people around them, including Freddie.

"Don't you see it?" Edward asked.

"See what?" Benjamin shrugged, becoming more confused.

"The resemblance between us," Edward said as if he was stating the obvious.

"Resemblance," Benjamin smirked. "between you and me?" Edward nodded his head with his eyes wide open.

"Let me see, turn sideways." Edward turned to his left with a puff, so Benjamin could examine. "Now, the other way." Benjamin squinted. "Well, your eyes much closer together than mine. Your ears. Well, don't worry, you'll grow into them. Your teeth are little crooked. Oh, and that nose!"

When Edward attempted to talk, Benjamin stopped him. "Hold on, I'm not, quite finished. You want to know the real difference between us?"

"Let me see," Edward raised his eyebrow. "I know a defense, and you don't, or I have class, and you don't. You take your pick." Both of them took a step ahead with an angry look on their faces. "Okay, Ben, Ed, it's enough," Maggie said them, but the longer she looked at them, she felt like there was a mirror in between. "Sorry, Ed, Ben." Benjamin and Edward turned to her when she got their names wrong. "Wow, you guys look alike."

The pair turned around with a puff and walked away as their friends followed them. Both Benjamin and Edward had the same question in their minds, thinking how weird it was. Benjamin quickly threw the thought at the back of his mind, but it lingered in Edwars's for a long time.

A few days after meeting Benjamin, Edward was sitting in his cabin after lunch with his friends and the kids from camp, playing poker. He had been winning since the first round. Edward was loving being at camp more and more every day. He was glad he had decided to trust his mother. He found that having friend wasn’t really bad and unnecessary.

Edward smiled as he put the cards in his hand down. "Sorry, boys. Two pairs." And he collected all the money sitting on the bed, arranging them. "So, that's it?" He looked around. "No more takers?"

As everyone around him rejected his offer, he heard the door creak. "I'll take a whack at it." Benjamin came into view with a sock full of coins, wearing vintage sunglasses and a shiny bomber jacket. He poured the coins to bed, making everyone watch in awe.

Edward shuffled the cards in his hands without breaking eye contact with Benjamin. "Take a seat, Styles." Benjamin sat down across Edward, took his glasses off, and put them on top of his head while leaning to bed. "Deal me in."

As the game continued, the tension between the two grew more and more. Edward put more money into the pile, trusting the cards in his hands. The more money Edward put, the more money Benjamin put. Both of them had a smug smirk on their faces.

"Tell you what I'm going to do," Benjamin said as he put his last money into the pile of coins, cash, and coupons. "I'll make you a little deal. Loser jumps into the lake after the game."

Edward took one last look to his cards, smiling. "Excellent."

"Butt naked."

"Even more excellent. Start unzipping Styles," Edward put his cards evenly on the bed so everyone could see it. "Straight in dimes."

Benjamin shook his head as if he was shocked. "You're good, Y\L\N." He smiled as he continued shaking his head. "But, you're just not good enough." He turned the cards to him, making Edwards frown at the sight. "In your honor, a royal clash."

A minute after, Edward found himself walking on the deck, all the boys catcalling him, butt naked. When he reached the lake, Edward stopped and turned back to see everyone watching him. He faked a smile and made a soldier salute to Benjamin. Edward took a deep breath and turned to the lake again.

It's just water, he thought to himself, as his heartbeat fastened. It's just water. He took a deep breath and jumped into the cold water. "Grab his clothes," Benjamin whispered the boys around him. When Edward finally came out of the water, he saw everyone running away, leaving him behind with only his white sneakers.

He took the sneakers and covered himself as much as he could. Shivering from the cold, he walked to his cabin. Even though Edward was sure that he had social anxiety, he was too proud to let Benjamin win. So, the next thing he decided was to declare war.

Three days after the poker game, Benjamin was walking to his cabin after a basketball game with his best friend, Freddie.

"You're kinda becoming obsessed with this Edward guy." Benjamin had been talking about his victory for three days straight. So, Freddie was getting nervous about it. He knew Benjamin could be a total drama queen and do much sometimes. Maybe all the time. He didn't quite know when or where to stop.

"Don't be ridiculous, Freddie. I'm just having fun." Benjamin said, smiling to his friend.

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know Uncle Harry would be mad if he heard that you were involved in mischief, again."

"Well, he won't hear anything, will he? Plus, everything is under control."

Freddie took a deep breath. "I hope so."

"You're turning into my dad, relax a bit."

"Being your friends comes with a damaging side, you know?" Benjamin laughed at his friend's remark. "I can't wait to take a nap. I'm so tired after that game."

As their cabin came into view, Freddie's eyes expanded. "I don't think that's possible, mate."

Benjamin frowned. "What, why?" He followed Freddie's look and saw their cabin. Their beds were lying around in the grass outside the cabin with their bags and clothes. Their pillows and blankets were on the roof, covered in red paint.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

It was in the middle of the night when Benjamin decided to strike with his genius evil plan. Edward and his cabin mates were sleeping, as Benjamin and his friends coated one of them with honey and the other with shaving cream. They poured oil, syrup, and honey on the floor and hanged strings around the room.

The first thing Edward saw when he woke up was a fake spider attached to a string across to his face. Their cabin was almost like a spider nest. Edward jolted from the bed to only step into the weird mixture of syrup, oil, and honey. When he groaned with disgust, his friends woke up to the same sight around them. Screams and groans were echoing inside the cabin.

Benjamin, Freddie, and their friend were just outside the window watching them, as the chaos took over the cabin. Edward tried to step out of the weird mixture, but his feet stumbled a red string that was impossible to see inside all that mess. The moment his feet touched it, three little water balloons fell from the roof, exploding and making the floor wet. As soon as he thought balloons missed him, a bigger one hit him in the head and drenched him.

"That boy is without a doubt the lowest, most awful creature that ever walked the planet!" Edward yelled with frustration as Benjamin watched him with laughs. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Morning, boys!" Marcus said them as he made his way to the cabin with Maggie following him. "Morning, Marcus!" They said in unison. But the moment they realized what was about to happen, their faces changed and they panicked. "Marcus!"

"Inspection time!" Marcus said, holding his megaphone. When he realized there wasn't still anyone coming out of the cabin, he walked toward it. But Benjamin quickly crossed his way and made him stop.

"No, Marcus! Do not go in there. One of the boys got sick last night, and it's a big big mess. Save yourself the aggravation, it's disgusting." Marcus put down the megaphone he was holding while Benjamin explained. "Well, if someone's sick, I must go in." He tried to open the door, but Benjamin didn't let him because he knew that if Marcus opened the door, a giant vat of syrup was going to fall on his head.

"Move aside, Benjamin."

"No, really, I insist. You can't go in there," said Benjamin. "He's highly contagious."

"Actually," Edward stopped watching the mess Benjamin he got himself into and decided to do something about it. "we're all quite fine in here unless Benjamin Styles knows something we don't know. I insist, open the door and see for yourself."

"Stand aside, Styles." Marcus pushed him away, and the minute he pulled the door open, a giant vat of syrup poured down on his head. Maggie pushed him to save him, but she stepped right under the bucket. So, she hit him in the back again, and they fell into the room.

As Marcus helped Maggie to get up, she grabbed a doll swinging from the ceiling. The moment she pulled the doll despite Benjamin's yells, she pulled on the fan, and feathers fell from it like snow, sticking to them and making them look like chickens.

"I told you it was a mess in here," Benjamin said with an anxious look on his face.

"He should know, he did it!" Edward yelled.

"You and you," Marcus pointed Edward and Benjamin. "pack your bags!"

The next thing they were walking through trees with their bags thinking that their parents were on the way to get them. Benjamin could only imagine how mad his father was, and Edward was afraid that his mother was only going to be disappointed in him. When they finally stopped at the beginning of the stairs, both of them were confused.

"You two are going to spend your time in the isolation cabin for the rest of the camp," Marcus said with a smile on his face, and Maggie pointed the cabin.

Benjamin and Edward looked at each other with disgust. The only thing the pair wanted was to face the wrath of their parents rather than staying in the same cabin for four weeks.

The first night in the isolation cabin was a total nightmare. The only thing Edward could think of was how disappointed his mother would be if she heard everything. If he told Benjamin what he thought about, he would call him mother's boy. But he didn't care. His mother was his best friend, and Edward was terrified of making her sad. His mother was everything to him, and her every word, and every thought was precious. Plus, this camp was a golden ticket to figuring out how to make friends, but now, thanks to Benjamin, he had lost that opportunity, too.

Benjamin was honestly making him crazy. The way he talked, the way he acted, even the way he looked. They were so different from each other. He couldn't figure out if it intimidated him or annoyed him. They didn't have a single thing in common, not that Edward knew anything about Benjamin, but it still felt like they were complete opposites.

On the other side of the room, Benjamin was angry, annoyed, and anxious. And all those emotions were making him overwhelmed. First, he was angry, he didn't know if it was for himself or the boy across the room, but he was angry. He was annoyed because the reason he had gone to that camp in the first place was to have fun, but now Benjamin was stuck in the same room with the most terrible person he had ever met and was far from having fun. And he was anxious because all he could think about his father talking to the camp counselor and apologizing for the things he had done, more than once.

Benjamin could only imagine the look on his father's face. He would be so disappointed as if he weren't enough. His green eyes would pierce through his head, and he would lecture him until he apologized. Benjamin adored his father expect those times. They had a great relationship and a lot of common interests. Harry was a great dad, he was, but being a single father meant that he had to be both the bad and the good cop. And it was the hardest part.

Benjamin was so much like his mother, Harry didn't know how to tame him. Even though Benjamin looked exactly like his father, he was nothing like him. Every word, every gesture, every eye roll was like his mother, and it drove Harry crazy. But how much Edward was like Harry, drove Y\N crazy more. Not only with his long curly hair, green piercing eyes, and identical smile but also with his personality. Edward was everything Harry had ever been. Even the music he listened to reminded her of Harry.

It was disturbing how much they took after their parents, but both of them didn't know. Y\N sometimes thought what if Harry was the parent who raised Edward, not her. He loved music. Would he be more interested in singing, or would he still have social anxiety with Harry without all the paranoia Y\N had?

Questions made both Harry and Y\N wonder about things they could have had if they hadn't been stubborn. If Harry chased after Y\N, If Y\N stayed and talked instead of running away. Now, the only thing their children thought as moon lightened the room in their beds was, without knowing the other thought about the same thing too, if they hadn't been way more stubborn than their parents, would this feud could be a friendship.

Only if they knew how much time it took to build a fellowship.

TAGLIST; @yllwtaxi @meredithhuntt @soullessbabee @xoxoellll @2kayla64 @sometrueaffection @fromthedt @angelbabyivy @harrymarvel @kisskillstudio

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #one direction #one direction imagine #the parent trap #the parent trap au moodboard #harry styles the parent trap au #the parent trap au

135 notes · View notes