#she’s always been that type of mother who wouldn’t let you help because she ‘didn’t want you to waste your time doing dishes’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xoxomoonlightxoxo · 3 months

Text

The Girl That Disappeared | Suspect #2 JJK

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

✧ Synopsis: It was a gloomy Friday evening when you felt the mists of melancholy pulse through your veins, aching body floating above the deep water. Squeezing your eyes shut, your lips trembled with fear. You didn’t want to die, but you sure as hell didn’t want to live. Not in this town. Not with the people in it. So, why don’t you just disappear? Leave them to search for the remnants of who you had been before you realised that life is more painful than death. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook. Best-friend, step-brother, and an ex-lover. Although their paths had never crossed before that gloomy Friday evening, their names, printed in bold, now remained on the top of the suspect list. Stories entangled in your mystery.

✧ w/c: 6.1k ✧ a/n: a lot is going on here but please let me know what you think, mwuah 💓 ✧ taglist: @kookieandjoonberries @whoa-jo @taevestr @smoljimjim @kookxin

@11thenightwemet11 @xumyboo @kingofbodyrolls @jksusawife

“Y/n-ah! I’m leaving, please turn on the security,” your mother’s voice echoed from the entrance as you heard the front door close. She was working on-call today, and while it seemed like you finally had an opportunity to spend some quality time together, the hospital rang her in for an emergency operation at the last minute.

“Okay, love you,” you yelled from your room, picking up the laundry off the floor before heading downstairs. No one was home. Mr. Kim had a night shift and wouldn’t be back until later and only God knew where Taehyung was.

Scrolling through your phone, you smiled at the photos Jimin sent you from his parent’s ranch house. It’s been a week since he left, and you couldn’t help but miss him. The two of you haven’t gone this long without seeing each other, so it felt weird not being able to call him over.

“Y/n, it’s so nice here, you would’ve loved it,” he smiled through the phone, resting his head on the soft pillow.

“I bet,” you whined.

“Next time, you’re coming with me, okay? There’s this waterfall I’ve been dying to show you,”

“Okay … I missed you Jimin-ah,” your voice broke, glossy eyes looking down at the teddy bear he got for your birthday.

“Y/n-ie, you know I missed you more,” Jimin moved in closer, placing a kiss on his front camera as you glanced up.

“Now, get some sleep, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, mmhm,”

“Goodnight,” you whispered with a little wave.

“Sleep tight, angel,”

He never called after that. All your attempts went straight to voicemail. It was strange, Jimin always valued communication, and never was the type to let you wonder about his whereabouts. Kept you posted even with a little “k”, just to signify that he got the message. But, now, it felt like he was gone. Vanished into thin air, like nothing happened. And, it killed you knowing that you couldn’t do anything about it.

The clock read 7 am on the dot, which meant that you still had about two hours till the first bell. It was the first day of your period and your cramps were horrendous, to say the least. They’re usually a pain in the ass but never this bad. Looking through the medicine cabinet you rummaged past the bandaids and the gummy vitamins before remembering that Taehyung took the last Ibuprofen for his headache last night. It was ironic how little painkillers you had in the house, knowing that your mom was a doctor. But, it’s because she always preached the importance of letting your body heal naturally. Science could only get you so far, I guess?

Zipping up your windbreaker, you grabbed your wallet and keys before heading outside to the local grocery store until the sound of a slammed door left you frozen in your tracks. It came from upstairs. Looking up at the dark corridor you turned on the lights, following the breeze seeping through the cracks of your room.

“Taehyung?” you called, hands hovering over the doorknob. No one answered. Why would they? You were the only one in the house, right?

“Taehyung, if this is one your stupid jok-” you whispered again before facing the empty room.

No sight of Taehyung, but your window was open, which explained the door. The only problem was that you didn’t remember opening it in the first place. Nonetheless, you would gladly accept this version of the incident over the possibility of some paranormal activity. One problem at a time, please.

So, you shut your blinds and went back downstairs to turn off the security system before grabbing your bike from the garage. You didn't have a licence, and only got your learners about a month ago, so if no one was home you had to resort to another form of transportation.

You didn’t mind biking though. Found it rather therapeutic. Loved the alone time it allowed for without the bombardment of life and its constant obstacles. Just you and your thoughts. And, although there was a bit of a fog, it was clear enough to see where you were going. So, you buckled your helmet and went off on your journey to secure some Ibuprofen.

Exiting the gated community, you biked through the local primary school, passing by a parking lot of sleep-deprived parents rushing to work after dropping off their little ones. It was getting a bit chilly as the wind picked up, so you stopped to put on some mittens and a hat before glancing back at the rustling sound behind the corner.

“Hello?”

Again, no one answered. But, that didn’t stop the chills running down your spine, remembering the incident earlier at home. Looking down at your watch, you gasped at the 20 minutes that had already passed, yet, you were nowhere near the grocery store. So, it was time to focus.

Biking down the empty road, your eyes were scattered across the painted scenery. The old brick houses and the tall trees. The rusted mailboxes and the garden gnomes. It all felt so nostalgic. So close to your heart, as if tethered by the strings of your past. But, the feeling was short-lived. Consumed by the eerie melancholy inching up your skin as you felt someone's presence behind you.

This time, you weren’t wrong. Covered from head to toe, it looked like a man. Keeping a civil distance, he followed your turns. Left. Right. Straight. Right. Left. Straight. Coincidence or not, this wasn’t a common path that people took. Not many knew of the shortcut. So, you began to speed up, feeling the adrenaline kick in once he did the same. Now, it was a chase.

Pushing through the burning pain in your calves you picked up the pace, feet firm on the pedals. He didn't pity your fatigue, only fueled it more by inching closer before the two of you were riding side-by-side. Keeping an eye on his uncanny demeanour, you flinched at the sound of a car horn blast through your trembling state as a white Honda glared past you, pointing at the stop sign.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered under your breath.

“You're fast,” the man scoffed, tilting his head with a sly grin. That's all you could see.

“Who are you?” you yelled, voice trembling in panic.

“I’ll give you a head start, mmhm?” he sneered, changing the gears on his bike.

Feeling the tightness in your throat, you were gasping for air, dilated pupils scanning the surroundings for help. Unfortunately, as if praying on your downfall, the street was empty. Not a soul in sight. So, you pressed on the pedals, leaving the man in the dust as you prayed that the next turn led to people.

Gas station. Bingo.

Hoping off your bike you bolted towards the door.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the cashier yelled out, furrowed gaze searching the panic on your face. You could feel the flush rise up your cheeks, but the absence of Mr. X occupied your mind.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, clearly out of breath before dialling Jimin’s phone number. It was like second nature. You didn’t even realise it until your call went straight to voicemail.

“Oh, right,” a sigh escaped your lips, remembering that he was still MIA.

Looking through your contacts, there was only one more person you could call. But, the possibility of them actually agreeing to help you was as slim as your waist after all that exercise. Nonetheless, you took a deep breath and pressed the call button.

“Taehyung?”

“What do you want, y/n?” he scoffed.

“Right. So, potentially … if you could … would you mind picking me up from the gas station near River Banks?” you whispered, careful with every word as you anticipated his response.

“Potentially, screw you. What the fuck did you lose there?”

“It’s kind of a long story but I do need to be at school in about half an hour,”

“Can I even say no?”

“Last time I checked it was a free country but a dangerous one at that. So, if I'm kidnapped, my blood is on your hands,”

“You and that victim mentally of yours go way back, huh?”

“Please, Taehyung. I’ve never asked you for a favour before,”

“Fine, give me 10 minutes,” he sighed, ending the call before you could even thank the guy.

The car ride home was quiet. No radio. Windows rolled up. Silence.

“So, you’re really not gonna tell me?” Taehyung asked with an arched brow, glancing at your stiff form as the light turned red.

You’ve never been good at lying. Even if your mouth stayed shut, your face would’ve revealed it all. Essentially, there was no running away from the truth in your case.

“Well … no one was home and I needed medicine so I decided to bike to the grocery store,” you began explaining, avoiding his eyes.

“Mmhm,”

“And then …” you paused, hesitating the next part. What if Mr. Kim finds out? What if you were blowing this out of proportion?

“Y/n. You’re making me angry. Just say it,” he scolded, pressing on the pedal.

“Sorry. Um, so yeah … I was biking and then out of nowhere this man started following me. So, I tried losing him by taking different turns but … ended up getting lost,”

“You were followed?” there was a slight change in Taehyung’s voice. Less sarcastic, more intrigued.

“I guess?”

“Well, did you see what he looked like?”

“Not, really. He was covered from head to toe. Except …” you gasped, eyes shut as your brain scavenged through its short-term memory, recalling the moment at the stop sign.

“Yes?”

“The side of his mouth was … bruised like he got punched or something?” you leaned back into the seat, fidgeting with your rings while Taehyung merged onto the right lane. He was too focused on the road to hear what you said, but as you glanced at his face your eyes widened, spotting the same purple marks.

“What?” he growled, furrowed gaze glaring back at your parted lips.

“Nothing.” you chuckled awkwardly, reaching for the radio before his cold hand touched yours.

“Look me dead in the eyes and tell me.” he sneered, interlocking his fingers with yours. You’ve known each other for almost a year, yet, your shoulders have never even grazed past each other. So, this was strange, to say the least.

“Tell you what?” you said hushly, gulping down the nerves as he levelled his face to meet your scattering eyes.

“That you’re scared,”

“I’m not,” you scoffed, feeling the flush in your cheeks.

“Good. Because why the fuck would it be me, you dumbass.” his voice got louder with each word, throwing your hand back before rolling down the windows. Finally. Some fresh air.

Why would it be him, y/n? You weren’t his favourite but, this was too much. Taehyung was a straightforward person, if he hated you he would say it to your face. So, these mind games were really not his thing. But, then again, what’s up with the bruised lip?

Fixing your uniform you walked into the brightly lit classroom. First period. Physics. No one was in their seats, let alone bothered by the fact that the teacher was almost 10 minutes late. Placing your books on the desk you looked over at the empty seat beside you. Jimin was still gone. No one has heard from him in weeks.

Bing Bing

Rampaging through your backpack you searched for your phone. You didn’t have time to properly pack because Taehyung was counting down the minutes before he threatened to drive off, so you just threw everything in hoping to fix it during your free period. Scrolling through the notifications your eyes focused on the text message from an unknown number.

“I missed you.” you mouthed under your breath.

“Sorry everyone, the meeting took a bit longer,” Mr. Choi chuckled softly, speed-walking into the room before ushering everyone to their seats.

“I missed you?” you whispered again, eyebrows knitted with confusion. Was it Jimin? Did he change his number?

“Nonetheless, I am pleased to introduce our new transfer student …”

You couldn’t recognize the area code, so you tried looking it up on the internet but found nothing useful. Was this some kind of a scam? An innocent prank, maybe?

“Jeon Jungkook” Mr. Choi’s voice suddenly echoed in your ears making you glance up at the dark-haired boy standing in front of the class. Interestingly, he was already looking at you. Hooded gaze focused on the way your demeanour changed completely.

“Jungkook, feel free to take any empty seat,”

Bowing to the man, he did exactly that. Slowly passing by the first three rows before stopping by the seat next to you. Nodding his head, he seemed pleased with the pick.

“Oh, no sorry, Jungkook-ah, that seat belongs to another student,” Mr. Choi called out with a smile that quickly faded as he watched him sit regardless.

“There’s plenty of options. I’m sure they’ll find another one,” Jungkook muttered with a sly grin, taking out his books before turning his attention to your widened eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, y/n,” he rasped against your hair, gently tucking it behind your ear to fix the back of your collar. His dark orbs flickered down to your parted lips, sending shivers down your spine.

The first kiss you shared with Jungkook was between your eyes. The way his furrowed gaze softened upon seeing you walk down the wooden stairs of your childhood home, in the lavender dress he bought for your birthday. The way he nervously nibbled on his lip ring before caressing the back of your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. Everything about him was gentle when it came to you. The way his warm embrace moulded into yours, as you grew to share the same breath, the same heartbeat. One singularity in the form of two lovers.

He filled the void your father left as you failed to please his expectations. The ones only a son could bear. The nights you spent crying in your room, wishing that your mother didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of raising a daughter, Jungkook was there. Like a knight in shining armour, he always saved you. Hoped to give you the future you deserve if you promised to share it with him. The two of you were inseparable. Attached by the hip.

Until, one day, you weren’t.

It’s been a week since Jungkook transferred schools. His seat still next to you. Inches away from the past that tethered your souls. You didn’t talk much. Mentally exhausted from the consequences. But, his eyes. They never lied. Sneaking glimpses across the room, watching your every move. He wanted you to give in, to tell him why you left. Help him understand how someone so close could betray his trust, his loyalty, his love. Jungkook didn’t hate you, wouldn’t let anyone get too close, but he was hurt. You could see it in his eyes. The same eyes that onces sparkled under the shimmering lights of the night sky when you shared your first kiss.

Dipping your feet into the pool you wanted to test the water before running through the new drill your coach crafted for the upcoming swim meet. To put it lightly, it was freezing. Goosebumps all over your skin, nipples cut through glass type of freezing. You would think a school with such a budget could afford a heated pool but beggars can’t be choosers. So, you tucked your hair under the swim camp and started on some stretches.

“One … two … three …” you breathed out, counting the reps before glancing up at the flickering lights. School ended about an hour ago, so the place was pretty empty except for the janitors and a few teachers who stayed back to work on some grading. There was no practice today, but you had a spare key to the pool, so it was just you and the water.

“Hello?” you called out, covering yourself with the towel. No response.

“Sorry, this is a closed practice,” you shouted out again, hearing footsteps coming from the changing rooms.

“Hel-”

The lights went out. Goosebumps covered your skin, heart beat through the roof. Now what?

“This isn't funny. Turn the lights back on!”

No one answered, but the footsteps inched closer. You could sense that they were near but it was too dark to make out a figure. Then, he chuckled. Subtle but devious chuckle. Like it was all premeditated.

“Where is it?” a voice echoed, bouncing off the four walls. It was familiar.

“Jungkook? Is that you?” you gasped, looking over your shoulder, hands trembling in fear.

“Where is it, y/n?” his tone was firm.

“Where's what?”

“Don't act dumb, love,” he sneered, hands hovering over your waist making you flinch at the sudden feeling. The smell of his vanilla musk lingered in the air as you matched each other’s breathing, skin to skin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered, chest heaving up from the tension.

“Where’s my baby?” he rasped against your ear pushing your frail body into the water as his hold around your waist tightened. Eyes squeezed shut, you began to kick him off of you. But he was stronger, assertive, more needy. Gasping for air you felt the water seep into your lungs, nails digging into his skin as a warning to bring you back to the surface.

However, once you were up, he would have more questions. Questions you didn’t have the heart to answer. But, Jungkook deserved to know the truth, even if it hurt. Because, deep down, your father’s abuse wasn’t the only reason you left.

You didn’t remember much of that night thanks to the five whiskey shots that pulsed through your veins. Intoxicated your system till you became numb. Unaware of the dangers around you and vulnerable to those with bad intentions. Until it was too late.

“Stop … please …” you whimpered, flinching at the feeling of his tongue on your breast. Parted lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, wrists red from his tight hold as your arms stayed pinned over your head. But your cries for help were as worthless as the consent he never got.

Until the door slammed open and Jungkook’s irate gaze saw your lifeless body buried under the weight of another man. No amount of restraint could hold him back. He was flammed with rage.

“Y/n!” Jungkook growled, pushing the guy onto the floor as blood covered his fist. And, as the four walls caved in, your world fell apart.

But, you could barely open your eyes, let alone get up. Too ashamed to move anyways and the migraine only made it worse. Searching for your top your heart ached with pain once you saw Jungkook’s hollow orbs swelled with tears as he wiped the blood off his face. He looked defeated, almost as unconscious as the man on the floor. Stepping over the body with one hand on his side he whimpered, biting down the pain in his ribs before covering you with his jacket.

“We have to go.” he muttered, picking you up bridal style.

“Koo, we can’t just leave him,” you yelled out, worried gaze searching his pale face.

“It’s nothing fatal, he’ll be fine,” Jungkook scoffed, feeling the tightness in his throat as he glanced down at your saddened eyes.

Tension consumed the air. It was suffocating.

“Jungkook, please slow down.” you exclaimed, tightening your hold on the seatbelt. And, although his glare was focused on the road, he couldn’t hear you. Too occupied by the burning pit in his stomach. It didn’t take long until the dashboard flashed warning signals as his speed reached 200 km/h. You were virtually flying. Yet, there was no end to his high.

Reaching for his cold hand you tried to snap him out of it before the car suddenly stopped.

“Oh, shit!” Jungkook yelled out, protecting you from the impact, as your body swung forward.

Eyes squeezed shut, your hands trembled in fear. He hit someone. You hit someone. Fidgeting with your seatbelt you desperately tried to get out and help the crouched man on the ground. He wasn’t bleeding but his skin looked burnt.

“Y/n!” Jungkook jerked you back, tightening his hold on your arm as he pressed on the pedal.

“What are you doing? We have to go back!” you yelled with a furrowed gaze.

“Jungkook!” you threw a few hits at his chest, reaching for the steering wheel as the car swerved along the bumpy road.

“Enough!”

You couldn’t recognize him. He never raised his voice at you. Barely ever argued. But, now, Jungkook felt so distant. So cold.

“Fine.” you whispered, digging your nails into your palms. It felt like a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from. Stuck in a maze of despair, robbed of peace and the possibility that it was all in your head. That none of it was real.

But it was. And, it would only get worse.

Unlocking his front door, Jungkook stepped aside, letting you go first, hesitant with his touch. Furrowed gaze fixated on the ground, his head hung low, heavy with thoughts. Tucking onto the ankle straps of your heels you hissed out of frustration, vision blurring in and out of focus.

“I can do it myself.” you scoffed, as he bent down to help. You didn’t mean to sound rude but there’s only so much one can endure before the sun sets. It was exhausting.

“I know you can but let me,” he muttered softly.

And, for a moment there was silence. No words were exchanged. No one knew what to say. Feared that something else would go wrong. But your eyes, they were screaming.

“Koo?” you whispered, caressing his cheek as he inched closer, burying his face into the warmth of your palm.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Jungkook blurted, gripping your dress.

You weren’t his first love but you were his first love. And, he promised to always keep you safe, fight for the beating of your heart until the air was stripped away from his lungs. But, he failed.

“I’m sorry for letting you get hurt” his voice was quiet, shaky. Glossy eyes looking up at your trembling lips.

“Baby, you saved me.” you exclaimed softly, pulling him into your embrace, feeling the tension in his body slowly dissipate.

“Nothing happened, right?” he whispered into your skin.

“Nothing,” you said hushly.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

To be honest, you didn’t remember what happened. Only the scars remained witness, your body painted like a canvas with purple hues of abuse. But, nothing happened, right?

“How do you know about the baby?” you questioned with an arched brow, trying your best to stay afloat as Jungkook inched closer.

“Oh, y/n, you always underestimated the power of a small town. News here spreads faster than wildfire.” he grinned, resting his hands on your waist before your back hit the concrete.

That night, when you layed on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, the puzzle pieces began to come together. Something did happen. Something that didn’t belong to Jungkook. You were raped and on very thin ice with your father who was ready to kick you out of the house if you didn’t oblige his threats. The ones that entailed getting rid of the baby, and clearing up the family name. But, you couldn’t bear to lose someone so close, so innocent.

So, you didn’t. You hid the pregnancy from everyone. Of course, your mom knew but you didn’t want to risk getting her into trouble with your father, whose behaviour worsened with each fight. Completely unhinged, he couldn’t be stopped.

But, when he slammed you against the kitchen cabinet while you stood in front of your mother’s trembling body you finally felt it. The striking pain in your abdomen that travelled up your pelvis and into your back. The pooling of blood that rolled down your leg, marking your clothes with the loss of your baby. And every day since then, you wondered. Wondered what life would feel like without the constant longing to be whole again.

“And, hey, thanks for this,” Jungkook teased with a sly wink, parading the dove necklace Mr. Kim gifted you for your graduation.

“Give it back Jungkook, this isn’t funny.” you snapped, reaching for his hand before his hold on your waist tightened, pulling you in.

“You stole something from me, now it’s my turn,” he rasped against your ear, nibbling on the soft skin. Inches apart, his heavy gaze flickered down to your lips.

“Hmm, I haven’t swam in a while but I think I can make the team, right captain?” Jungkook glanced up, searching your furrowed expression.

Unfortunately, he did make the team. If you couldn’t tell already, he was a crowd favourite. Always managed to get what he wanted, even with minimal effort. Simply put, life just seemed to work out for Jungkook.

So, when the team went on to win the Nationals your coach decided to splurge and take everyone out for the weekend. Nothing special. Just a trip to the next town over. He rented a bus, but if you had a ride you could just meet everyone there. Sadly, both your mom and Mr. Kim were busy with work and Taehyung closed the door on you when you asked, so that seemed like a hard pass.

“Damn, Mr. Lim couldn't wait till sunrise?” your friend teased as the two of you waited by the school entrance. It was just shy of 7 am, but the sky was grey and foggy.

“That's what I'm saying. I couldn't even sleep yesterday,” you scoffed, feeling the puffiness around your eyes. Something about the little getaway fueled your nervous system to stay alert the whole night. Was it excitement? Fear?Anxiousness? Only time will tell.

“It's fine, in about 5 minutes we should already be hitting the road. And, hey, I brought the book you asked for,” she exclaimed, digging through her bag.

“Nice! Fair warning though, I will be taking my beauty slumber as soon as we get on or else I might just die,” the two of you chuckled before collecting your stuff noticing the bus turn into the school parking lot.

Heading up the stairs you were welcomed by an older gentleman.

“Hel-” his words were cut off by the shouting outside.

“Y/n!”

“Sorry, could you excuse me for a second?” you giggled awkwardly, turning back to see who was making all that noise.

“Y/n, get in. I'll drive.” Jungkook urged with no hesitation, patting the passenger seat.

“That's not necessary,” you scoffed, arms crossed over your chest.

“That wasn't a question.” a sly grin covered his face.

Parking his Mercedes in front of the bus, you looked back at the old man who was busy checking in the other students to notice Jungkook’s stubborn act. Well, shit.

“Fine.” you muttered, ushering him to open the trunk.

As promised, you fell asleep almost immediately, suppressing the daunting feeling inside your chest. Jungkook didn’t mind, and kept as quiet as possible, reclining your seat before covering you with his jacket. It was better that the two of you didn’t speak. This gave him the perfect opportunity to look at you without being threatened.

The drive was supposedly only 4 hours, but the rain lengthened the process.

“Hhmm?” you flinched from the sound of hail hitting the glass window.

“Sleep well?” Jungkook whispered, glancing at your drowsy eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, stretching your back.

“Are you hungry? We will have to stop at a motel, it’s too dangerous to drive.”

“Alright. Let me just text Yuri then,” you said, unzipping your bag.

“No need, I already let Mr. Lim know,” he winked, pulling into the parking lot.

Mother Nature was pissed and decided to take it out on all of us. So, it wasn’t long until the two of you were drenched from head to toe.

“Quickly, let’s go!” Jungkook exclaimed, grabbing your hand before locking the car.

The place wasn’t brand new, per se, but it served its purpose. As soon as you walked in, you were welcomed by what could only be described as a parade of taxidermy deer heads mounted onto the wall with a complimentary coffee station by the corner.

“I'll be right with you!” a female voice echoed from the back room.

Glancing at the water dripping down your face Jungkook chuckled, pulling you in to wipe the excess with his sleeve.

“You okay?” he hummed, levelling his head until your eyes met.

“Cold,” you muttered, nibbling on your lip before turning him back towards the front desk.

“Right, so sorry for the wait. What can I do for you, dear?” an older woman exclaimed with a soft smile.

“Oh, no worries at all! We’re just looking for a room for the night,” Jungkook explained, pulling out his wallet.

“Of course! Are you two a couple by any chance?” she giggled, dimples popping out on both cheeks as your mouth dropped.

“Oh, n-” you scoffed before his glare pierced through you.

“Shhh, let her finish, love,”

“Well, it’s just that Saturdays are usually our couple specials. You get a 30% discount!” she clapped, admiring what you assumed she thought to be the epitome of young love standing in front of her.

“Lucky us, then,” Jungkook clapped as well, inching your stiff body closer to make it more believable.

“Go us!” you smiled awkwardly, patting his chest before whispering something in his ear. Don’t get too excited.

Placing a gentle peck on your forehead he grabbed the bags, following the sweet lady towards your room.

“Alrighty, here it is! If you need anything I’m just a call away.”

“Thank you!” the two of you said in unison, unlocking the door.

One bed.

“So, how is it?” Jungkook asked, laying out his jacket on the cabinet to dry.

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” a teasing chuckle escaped your parted lips.

“The rain will stop soon. I doubt we’ll even need the bed,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“What? We wasted all that money for nothing?”

“Well, first of all, I paid. And, we got a discount, remember?”

“I'm sorry. I'll pay you back,” your gaze lowered from the sudden guilt, fingers fidgeting with your rings.

“Are you kidding? I would pay triple to spend more time with you,” his tone was genuine, pupils dilated at your timid state.

“Jungkook,” you whispered.

“If only you knew how much I missed it,” he tilted his head back on the wall, nibbling on his lip ring.

“What?”

“Hearing you say my name,”

“I thought we hated each other,” you muttered, folding your hands over your chest.

“You did. I just loved the thrill of it,”

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t miss it too. In hindsight, your feelings were always suppressed but obvious to the naked eye. To his eyes. However, just because you miss something, doesn’t mean you have to go back. Sometimes, the door is better off closed. Hidden deep in your subconscious mind, buried under a pile of broken promises.

“I’m going to shower.” you blurted in a hurry, walking past him to avoid the thoughts running through your head.

The water was cold no matter which way the faucet turned, so you had to be quick unless catching hypothermia was on the list of things Mr. Lim wanted you to experience over this trip. If so, then you were ahead of the game.

Wrapping yourself with a towel you washed off your makeup, combing your hair with a detangling brush before getting startled by the swinging of the door, hitting your side.

“Hey! I wasn’t done.”

“Sorry, it’s cold,” Jungkook whined, welcoming himself in.

“Did you try putting on a shirt?” you scoffed, eyeing his naked chest before his furrowed gaze caught you red-handed.

“It’s wet, smartass. And, I didn’t want to put new clothes on before showering.”

“Well, go stand over there and face the wall,”

“Are you shy?” he teased, leaning on the counter.

“Well, I’m not comfortable.” you hissed, tightening the fabric around your body.

“I’ve seen you naked plenty of times, y/n,” Jungkook grinned, eyes squeezed shut as if reminiscing the good old days.

“You don’t have to remind me. I'll be taking that sin to the grave,”

But it was too late. Lips inches apart, your chest heaved up from the intensity of his heavy gaze, eyeing your form from top to bottom. Tilting your chin with his fingers, he leaned closer.

“We can’t,” you blurted, hands hovering over his chest.

“No?” he glanced at your scattering eyes, pressing your palm against his burning skin.

“What about Soojin?”

“What about her?”

“Seems like you guys were hitting it off pretty well,” you hissed, looking past his glare.

“Meh … not my type,” Jungkook scoffed, eyes flickering down your lips.

“Oh, really?”

“Why? Was y/n jealous?” he said with a sly grin, tracing his fingers up your thigh.

“Soojin, is not your type? Ha! Hard to believe when she was all over you a few days ago.” your tone was low, annoyed at the whole thing. You were jealous. Fine. Whatever. Moving right along.

“Hmm, is that so? Then what does that say about us? If I leave a trail of kisses down your neck, does that mean you're my type?” he whispered in your ear, pulling your body onto the counter before finding himself between your legs.

“I'm not your type,” you chuckled, ignoring the obvious tension.

“I could've been a dad by now and you're questioning if you're my type? Really?” Jungkook teased, resting his forehead on yours.

“Jungkook, the baby wasn’t yours.” you said firmly, palms holding his face to make sure he was paying attention.

“But, it was yours. And, what’s yours is mine. Isn’t that right?” he winked, fingers intertwined with yours. Then it happened. The long-awaited kiss. And, although you knew this wasn’t the best of your decisions, you didn’t mind revisiting this door, at least for the time being.

Until that night. The night in the forest. When a locked door was the only thing separating you and Jungkook.

“Call him. Let's see if he actually cares,” you could see the grin smear across the man’s masked face, as your blood-shot eyes swelled with tears.

Hands tied behind your back, you watched him press the call button, turning the phone towards you before resting his knife right under your chin.

“Jungkook!” you cried out with a shaky voice.

Ring Ring

“Oh, shit, where’s my phone,” Jungkook exclaimed, patting his pockets before reaching for the glove compartment.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes widened. It was you. Rather, snapshots of you. One’s that he had no recollection of taking. But, they looked strange. As if you also weren’t aware of them being captured.

Call from 647-568-0349. Call from y/n-ie❤️

An automated voice broadcasted through the speaker system set up in his garage.

“Y/n?” Jungkook yelled out, bolting towards the locked door.

“Jungkook … please …” you whimpered, feeling the tip of the knife poke into your skin as your chest heaved up.

“What the fuck? Why won’t it open?” Jungkook growled, fidgeting with the knob before banging on the wooden door. But, no one was home.

“Please … please … pick up.”

Running back into his car, he turned on the engine, scattering eyes looking back at the empty driveway until the garage door began closing on its own.

And within seconds, he was trapped. No way in or out. But, the engine was still on, running inside the confined space. Gaseous fumes slowly intoxicating the air he was forced to breathe.

“Fucking hell.” Jungkook coughed, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Please …” you kept trying, hoping to hear his sweet voice on the other line. Completely naive to the carbon monoxide that was now spreading through his lungs.

“Help!” he cried out, feeling the tightness in his throat.

“Jungk-” you gasped, widened eyes glaring back at the masked man.

“Tsk … what a shame.” he sneered, ending the call abruptly before piercing through the phone.

“Oh, angel, it’s okay. We can wait if you wish. Hopefully, his lungs don’t collapse,” he rasped against your hair, cold touch sending shivers down your back as you felt your heart sink.

117 notes · View notes

probablyintensemuses · 1 month

Text

Hey Brother, pt 2

summary: in the present, you and Armando have an even rockier start.

authors note: read part 1 if you haven’t already. This one is mostly in Armando’s POV which I think is extraordinarily important.

Read Part 1 Here

Armando let the water run over him, each splash hitting a wound, causing him to wince.

The fight with McGrath’s people had been tougher on his body than he thought, and truthfully, on that tiny boat floating adrift, he didn’t think he’d make it here alive.

Luckily he had, trailing blood up the stairs and into your apartment as he waited for you to come home.

Mike had instructed him to come here and stay until things died down, until there could be some type of resolution for him, one that wouldn’t require more jail time.

He had said you would be fine with it, that you wouldn’t hesitate to help.

Armando wasn’t worried about that, he could see it in the way you’d placed a blanket over him, tucking him in, and stitching him together.

What he was worried about, truly, was facing you.

Yes, big bad assassin Armando was afraid to face his baby sister.

He couldn’t pin point why, exactly.

Maybe it was a mixture of fear, anger…guilt.

Guilt that you, his own little sister, almost died because of him all those nights ago.

Fear that you’d always be afraid of him and what he could do to you.

Anger that he even had to got through any of this shit at all.

Armando’s ran a wet hand through his sleek black hair, dragging water through his strands.

His fist shook and he wanted so desperately to punch something, but this wasn’t his place and he didn’t want to make things worse than what they already were.

So he took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then turned the shower off.

He climbed out of the shower, wrapping himself in the towel you had given him, walked out of the bathroom, droplets of water still coating him.

He tried to be as quiet as possible when closing the bathroom door as not to disturb you.

From the hallway he could see you sat on the couch, a bowl of cereal to your right, textbooks and pencils to your left.

You were studying with soft music trilling in the background, your glasses hung low on the bridge of your nose and your curly hair sprawled out.

Armando felt frozen in time as he observed you.

He hadn’t the slightest clue who your mother was or what she looked like, or the story between her and your father.

But from what he could see, you did look somewhat like Mike. Your brown eyes, thick, dark hair, warm brown skin and rotund face.

The only thing missing was his height, really.

Armando continued to watch as you turned a page in your text book, “you know staring isn’t polite, right?” You said, not looking up from your studies.

Armando coughed, adjusting himself. “I wasn’t staring.” He lied.

“Okay.” You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“Why would I be staring at you?’ Armando trudged on.

You raised a brow, snatching off your glasses. “I don’t know, you tell me? Perhaps you’re planning to drug me again.”

Armando huffed. “Trust me, princesa, if I wanted to do anything to you, I’d have done it already.”

You look up at him, your eyes widening and your mouth opening and closing like a fish. “That’s not comforting…at all.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Armando reassured again, a pang tugging in his chest.

You didn’t trust…and some part of him felt the same about you. What was to stop you from calling the cops on him right now? Especially since Mike dumped him on you without so much as an explanation.

But in another breath it somehow hurt that you didn’t trust him. Wasn’t that part of being an older brother, trusting that he’d never hurt you?

“Why, because we’re family?” You question.

Armando frowned at that word, his nose scrunching. “No,’ his next words were slow to come out. “Because you’re not worth it.”

You scoff, gathering your things. “Wow.”

Armando watches you gather all your study materials in a haste, not sparing him anything more than a cold shoulder.

“Have whatever you’d like,’ you brush past him. “Because you're right, I'm not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your bedroom door in his face, leaving Armando with his thoughts.

Armando threw his head back with a sigh before gathering the clothes you had laid out for him and slipping them on.

Of course they hardly fit.

But that was the least of his worries right now.

The FBI was undoubtedly after him, he had wounds all over his body, he was shaking with his long-lost little sister who hates him, and he hasn’t the slightest clue when he’d be free from all this.

All the lies.

All the trauma.

All the pain.

It be a miracle if he could shake it all.

You force captures his attention, washing over his thoughts and beckoning him towards your door.

Armando leans against the wood, getting a better shot of your conversation.

“Dad?” You whisper.

“Babygirl, are you okay?” Mike asks.

“Am I okay?’ You scoff. “No I’m not okay! You completely violated my privacy by sending him here, not to mention I had his literal blood on his hands and I’m complicit in a fucking crime!”

“Hey! Watch your mouth.” Mike said, sternly.

“Really, my language is your biggest concern right now? Not the fact that you are the one who’s being disrespectful by going behind my back and brining him here!”

Armando winced at the conviction in your voice, you really didn’t like him. And if he was honest, you had no reason too.

Mike was silent for a beat before he responded. “You’re right.” He sighed. “I was just trying to do right by him. Do you know how it feels, having missed out on nearly thirty years of his life, knowing he was lied to and mislead?”

“No, I don’t. But I know how it feels to be thrust into an impossible situation just to make everyone else feel better.’ You sniffled. “I mean dad, I get that he’s your son…but I’m your daughter, and you could have at least taken into consideration how much this sucks for me too! Or even the fact that I’m fucking terrified of him!”

Mike sighs. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“If you know, why couldn’t he have stayed with you and Christine?”

“It would have to much of a risk for us.”

Armando jumps at the sound of something crashing behind the door. “What about me! Do you even care about how I fucking feel!”

“I do baby girl!”

“No you don’t, ever since you found out he was your son, you’ve been obsessed with redeeming him because of your own fucking guilt. So much to the point where you’ve put me in the backseat!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is,’ you growl. “It was him, then Christine, Callie and Judie, and I just fall wherever else. If you feel all this guilt for all these people, you should have at least saved some for me.”

“Why would I save guilt for you, huh?” Mike said, clearly getting angry now.

“You know what,’ you took a deep breath. “I really hope your find a home for your murderous, bastard son soon, because I’m done being the pile you load all your shit on.”

“Don’t—,”

The line when dead before Mike could let out another word.

Armando swallows the last of your words a sharper knife than any he'd ever been stabbed with.

And maybe it wasn't exactly your words that hurt but the fact that you hadn't been lying.

Mike had been obbssesed non-stop with finding the good in all the bad things he'd done, like finding a shining diamond in a dirty, muddied pond; a miracle and an impossibilty.

Instead, he should have been focused on mending the fallout his actions left the both of you, in particular you.

Armando almost felt bad for you.

No, he did feel bad for you.

You were only seventeen when he kidnapped you, he and his mother threatening your life several times, only for you to find out it was all over a lie.

One big, fat fucking lie.

And instead of your father being there for you, shielding you from your greatest trauma, he exploited it by bringing Armando here.

It hit him then, maybe it wasn't hurt he felt when it came to you...maybe it was empathy.

He knew exactly how you felt.

Being exploited by a parent sucked, let alone two.

Armando wasn't sure what came over him, but he found himself knocking on your bedroom door.

It took a few minutes, but eventually you opened up the door.

Your brown eyes were swollen with tears and your bed was a clear mess of fustration and anger.

"I'm not apologizing for anything I said."

"I'm not asking you to."

"What do you want?"

"To apologize.' He swallowed.

You let out a low, sad chuckle. "For what?"

"I don't really know yet, maybe because I know no one's said it to you yet." He admits. "And if anything, you and I both deserve it."

Armando watches you straighten. "And why's that?"

"Because our parents suck."

You shrug. "That's true."

"So, I'm sorry."

"For our parents sucking?"

"Yes...no, I don't know. Look, I just don't want us to hate each other."

"I don't hate you." You say, using your feet to play with the hem of your pants.

"It sounded like you did back there." Armando nods to your cellphone.

"I was upset....I didn't think you'd hear all that."

"You were pretty loud."

"Well it is my house, and you did break in...so."

Armando sighs, "Touché."

"So now what?" You say.

"What?"

"You just say sorry and then what? Do we act like some happy family or do we skate around each other?"

"Up to you."

You sigh, playing with your nailbeds.

"Do you like ramen?" You eventually ask.

Armando shurgs. "I've had worse."

You leave your room. "I'll take that as a yes."

It wasn't much, but at least you were sitting across from him, enjoying a bowl of spicy ramen instead cowering away in fear.

For a moment, Amrando could actually enjoy some peace, a little calm before the storm.

He never imagined it be with the sister he never knew he had.

Life is really...something.

#fanfiction #armando aretas #bad boys for life #armando aretas x reader #jacob scipio #armando and mike #mike #mike lowrey #marcus burnett #bad boys ride or die

102 notes · View notes

chevelleneech · 3 months

Text

Not to make everything about Qimir or a ship, but holy hell was he also not lying about how the Jedi are not able to love as deeply as Osha wants them to, and ep7 is proof of that.

Sol killed Mother Aniseya and Mae out of fear of them being alive meaning he wouldn’t get to keep Osha, choosing to ignore the fact that… Osha was not his to keep. Yes, she wanted to go with the Jedi, but Sol didn’t tell Osha he stabbed her mother or that he let her twin sister fall to her death in order for that to happen.

And I know people want to say he didn’t mean for it to happen so we shouldn’t hate him, but idk man. I think he meant well, believing the coven was going to kill the twins, but at the same time… he had the choice to be honest and he chose to lie.

He put his own protection and desires over what was best for Osha, which was an act of selfishness. And you can’t claim to love someone in full, when you’re willing to withhold information from them that could cause them to walk away from you. Sol may have presented freedom to Osha, but he never truly let her have it.

She grew up thinking her choice to not follow in her families footsteps led to their death. She grew up thinking her sister burned to death, due to a fire she started as an angry child. She grew up believing Sol kept her safe, when he is the reason she lost everything, no matter how well intended he was. And I’m sorry, but having Osha forgive any of that would defeat the purpose of the show.

Sol took her mother, her sister, and her coven from her, then lied about how it happened. Left her believing her mother denied her freedom and her sister murdered everyone in an attempt to murder her. That is a villain origin story if I’ve ever heard one, because if I were Osha, I’d want Sol’s head on a platter.

You don’t get to make emotional decisions on my life to benefit yourself, proceed to ruin my life, then attempt to control my life under the guise of helping me learn how to be a “good witch” unlike the ones you stole me from, and then apologize (I presume he will try to apologize) and expect me not to want to seek solace in the man who has been telling me all along that Jedi aren’t honest.

Osha finding out the truth is going to body slam her into Qimir’s arms, because as I said days ago and up top… he is not lying to her. He is manipulating her, but only by telling a truth she doesn’t want to believe yet. Osha doesn’t want to believe the Jedi would lie to her or harm her in any way, and while ep7 showed us the Jedi Order didn’t, he still is right about how their inability to love the way she loves would always be an issue.

Because Sol didn’t love Osha right away. He supposedly felt a connection, but he was also feeling some type of way not having a Padawan. So it wasn’t his love that brought them together, it was his wants. His emotions being out of his control. And that’s what’s kept them connected all this time. Sure, he may have grown fond of her and doesn’t want to see her die or go to the dark side, but how can she ever believe that once learning the truth? She’ll only ever think he wanted to protect himself or relieve himself of his guilt.

This is longer than I intended, but this is me saying Qimir wasn’t wrong. He’s telling truths dipped in seduction, and he has his own agenda, but lies they are not.

#the acolyte #oshamir

118 notes · View notes

alwaysonf1 · 11 months

Text

beauty and brains?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: Mild Language.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

Though the game the night before had them arriving at their hotels late production had them up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn.

Charles fought for his life to wake up and was happy he’d thought through pre-ordering room service because it arrived not long after his shower. He ate his food in silence, sleep still clinging to him and the coffee they sent not doing much to help bring him back to life. A late night didn’t usually do this to him, but he thought maybe despite his early arrival to Louisiana the jet lag may still have gotten to him.

He tosses the covering for his breakfast back onto the plate and sits back on the couch. His phone vibrates and though he’s half asleep and wanting to stay that way he picks it up, barely noticing it’s a call before he puts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he asks, voice cracking.

“Hello?” Daniel mimics. “Open your door.”

If Charles had it in him, he’d roll his eyes, but he hangs up and pulls himself off the couch with a groan. He undoes the locks and the door swings open, nearly knocking him over as the three men walk into his room like it’s their own space.

Daniel takes his spot on the couch while Carlos and Alex take the other two. Charles gives them all a look, but besides Alex, who looks sheepish, they look as if they’ve done nothing wrong at all. It’s a losing battle, so he sighs and plops down into the love seat perpendicular to the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

Carlos shrugs. “We were up and restless, thought we’d come here and wake you up if you weren’t.”

“Well, I’m awake.”

“And we’re bored,” Alex says.

A second eye roll in what has been less than two minutes. He enjoys spending time with these guys, more so with how much closer they’ve become due to filming. But they were also annoying in the way friends could be.

“You cannot entertain yourselves?”

“We can, but we were talking, and we know you’re still as mind blown by this as the rest of us. Who knew Lewis had a secret sibling,” Daniel says.

Carlos nods. “And that she’s American.”

All of them nod in agreement, because even if that isn’t at the forefront of Charles’ mind it is something that they couldn’t have seen coming. They got to speak to her a little after the game before she was whisked off elsewhere and her accent threw him off. It wasn’t the one you default to for Americans, but it was clear that it belonged to some section of this country. Her mother’s was the same, which is why it was a little silly that they weren’t prepared to hear it come out of her.

To be fair to them there was a lot to keep up with this.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t have been a shock. But hey, there was a lot going on. That dancing though, it’s like things I’ve seen before, but not. Ya know? I asked Lewis and he said they’re called majorettes. I looked it up last night and it’s almost always this good. Especially since little Hamilton became captain, people sing her praises. There’s one that has millions of views on twitter alone. I’ll send it later.”

The others speak amongst themselves, and Charles feels his mind wander off. He thinks about how confusing and brilliant last night was. Every part of it. He’d never watched American football on a college level, and it was as entertaining as at a professional level. Then the band was in peak form. It got his brain working on music again in a way it hadn’t in a while. And of course, the dancing. If that was what the majorettes had to offer, then he was eager to see what else they had going on.

“I’m a little surprised that’s how they decided to let us meet her. Lewis seems to be the protective type and that could have gone either way,” Carlos says.

“He trusts us not to be weirdos, even if he didn’t, we wouldn’t have been stupid enough to say anything on camera for everyone to see. You know F1 will put out anything, even if they have to apologize for it later,” Charles says.

Daniel snatches a bottle of water from the table and nods. “Plus, I’ve seen that man win multiple championships and I have never seen him prouder and happier than that. He clearly supports her and would want to showcase her talent.”

“True, but I wonder what that means for today. I’m guessing it’ll be something school related. If they have me do school work under pressure,” Alex says.

“Like Carlos when he forgot that he should be able to drive an F2 car.”

“Hey!”

They all descend into laughter, while Carlos glares at them, arms crossed, and eyes clearly showing he’s not here. Probably imagining how he panicked himself so much it was like someone asked him to drive Nascar.

A knock on the door puts a stop to the laughter and without a word they all gather their stuff and head toward it. Their main producer, Anne, is there and she looks worried. Then she notices the number of people and Charles watches her relax.

“Time to load into the van, everyone.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel says.

They head out of the room, and with the weird speed of the elevator, are in the lobby in less than a minute. Lewis and Lance are huddled together laughing and some of the production crew linger around talking in groups. When everyone sees them, they head out to the vans awaiting them.

When they get in Daniel and Lewis take the first row of seats while Alex takes the front and the other three in the back. The moment the seat belts click the cars are moving and Charles watches Daniel lean over to Lewis with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Any clues?”

Lewis looks contemplative and then he laughs.

“Hm… prepare to feel dumb.”

Daniel laughs. “So regular day at work?”

“You have no idea.”

From there it’s silence, but the kind where you can tell everyone is still a little tired. All their starter energy exerted, so now they need a moment.

It’s being tired and wanting to prepare himself for Charles. He went in yesterday with so little and he knows it showed, but he wants it to be a little different this time. There can be shock, but he doesn’t want to seem like anything they do and what she’s there to show them is something he didn’t expect of her. He’d hate to seem like he has any preconceived ideas of who she is. People who don’t like him would latch onto that and misinterpret, and there’s a possibility Lewis might too, but mostly he doesn’t want to offend.

After twenty minutes of mindless scrolling, they pull up to a building. From their surroundings it’s clear that this isn’t where they should park, but it’s clearly been made so that if one needs to it can.

Everyone piles out of the vehicle. And despite being the one who should get up first of the three, his friends are children who push him down and get out before him. Charles is on his third eye roll of the morning and the last to get out. And just as he does Iman emerges from the building and stands at the top of the steps with a smile. Today she’s in utility pants and a shirt that has a familiar emblem on it.

“You're late,” she shouts.

“You told me eight, it's seven forty-five,” Lewis yells back.

“True, but I’ve had a man in here squealing about meeting a seven time champion and multiple F1 drivers. Have mercy on a girl who was forced to take an eight a.m. in her last semester will you?”

Everyone laughs at that, and they walk up the stairs toward her. She waits and then turns toward the building, but she pauses and turns around to face them.

“Where are my manners?” she asks, then points at Lewis, “And yours.”

“What did I do?”

She rolls her eyes and turns toward the other five drivers with a smile that makes Charles give her one of his.

“I know all of you know my name and I yours, plus we kind of met last night, but let me properly introduce myself. I’m Iman Hamilton, little sister of this dweeb, captain of the SU Dancing Dolls, and a college student on her last semester close to losing her mind.”

She steps toward Carlos, hand out, and she shakes his. He gives a small greeting, and she goes down the line to each of them doing that. As Charles takes her hand, he notes her hands are soft, but the shake is firm.

“I’m Charles, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You as well.”

She also greets all the staff individually and then retakes her position in front of the door.

“Are y’all prepared for the horrors and wonders of an eight a.m. hands on class?” Her voice is fake cheery, and it makes Charles and Daniel laugh.

“Speaking of what would this class be?”

Iman throws her head back and laughs, then glances toward Lewis. “He is smooth.”

“Don’t let him get you.”

“Ooh, they talked about me,” Daniel jokes.

That sends laughter through everyone, and it lifts a weight that Charles didn’t realize was there. He was a little nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. But at least he could feel with the shift in everyone that it was a mutual feeling.

Without another word Iman turns and pulls the door open. Charles ensures he’s in after Lewis and catches a glimpse of someone rocketing back into a classroom. It must be the man that Iman was talking about. The excitement is flattering.

As they walk down everyone, especially the cameras, take in the space. There are pictures and many didn’t contraptions lining the walls. Probably as a representation of what goes on in this building. There was a sign on top of it, but it was too high to see where they parked. So, Charles looks up at the wall at the end of the hall and there he sees: School of Mechanical Engineering.

His eyes go wide unintentionally, but he reins it in and nudges Carlos. It takes a moment before the Spaniard sees what he does, and his reaction is very much the same. The others have already seen the sign and they look from the sign to the woman leading them and back.

The smile that forms on Charles’ face reflects the pride he feels. Of course, he knows what it’s like to be happy and proud of his siblings' success in their fields, but in that moment, he understands why Lewis feels it. He understood last night, but when his mechanics and friends spoke about how engineering as a degree takes a lot out of you, he was sure. They spoke of sometimes struggling with it and normal life, so he couldn’t imagine an extracurricular that was probably as consuming.

The feeling dumb was definitely already starting.

When they reach the door to her class it’s wide open and in the center of the only space without tables stands a man old enough to be a teacher and students in similar clothing to Iman. Most seem giddy, some seem mildly interested, and there are one or two that look like they don’t care at all. Good for the ego.

Iman leads them to the center, standing directly across from her class and the drivers so she’s facing neither. Her hands go wide, gesturing to either group.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet drivers currently a part of the F1 grid. F1 drivers, welcome to Advanced Internal Combustion Engines. We’ll be here for three hours, so I’ll leave the more personal introductions to you.”

She pauses and there’s a chorus of greetings that come from both sides. Charles watches as her lips part to presumably say something else, but then the man who is obviously the instructor takes center stage with a giddy smile. It’s a little amusing, but mostly nice to see him so excited about this. Worry about how roping siblings in this would disrupt their lives, even for a short time, has been a thing since the beginning. Especially when they may not have people to work for or with that would love this kind of thing.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. My name is Dr. Malcolm Johsnon. I’m a big enjoyer of F1 and racing in general, just as many of the students in this class are. My industry background is predominantly in IndyCar, which is why this class focuses a lot on the types of engines used in those kinds of race vehicles. Today as much as you’ll be getting a peak at Iman’s life, you’ll see what the students learn here and a glimpse at the parts that make your cars go. I’m open to any questions you might have at any time.

Alex raises his hand. “Oh, if you worked or work for IndyCar, how did you end up teaching? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He hitches a thumb in Iman’s direction, “Her mother can be very persuasive. She’d also taken a stint teaching as a break from working with IndyCar teams, so she had much to rave about. Plus, she wanted me here to make sure they taught her child right.”

That earns a few laughs, but Charles sees the odd look from a few students who are displeased but already knew this knowledge. Though it doesn’t feel like they’re displeased with their instructor, just Iman. An expected response to someone who uses the connections she has or in this case the connection just stepped in for her.

Which makes Charles pause. Wait, did he say Sherri?

“Your mother works in IndyCar?” he asks, his eyes on Iman.

“Has since before I was born. Racing is a family affair. Though more of us are on the engineering side than in the driver seat.”

When she says it, a fist extends out toward her from the corner of Charles’ eye and she bumps her fist against Lewis, smiling wide and winking at her older brother.

“But enough of that, though we’ve all agreed to this we still have a project to work on. And surprisingly multiple three hour classes aren’t enough time.”

There are several mutters in agreement and with that students disperse to the tables scattered throughout the massive room. Iman goes to one in the back with three other people. They get to work without a word and production and Dr. Johnson step closer to the drivers, forming a circle.

“Our focus is Iman and her life and what she does, but we don’t want all of you to just crowd her. As much as we want shots of what she’s doing and your interaction, we want this to be a learning experience just like the other times were. Engage with the other students without crossing any boundaries and maybe even see if any of that knowledge you get from your own mechanics is familiar here, okay? We’ll move you guys if we feel you linger here or there too long, but just go where you feel pulled. Also, there are some students who have little flags attached to their tables to signal they are most comfortable with questions, so look out for those but don’t shy away too much from the others. Got it?” Anne asks.

Everyone nods. She then gestures for Dr. Johnson to take the floor.

“And things get a little hectic, so over there is some PPE for y’all to use. I want this to be safe for them and for you. Cool?”

“Yes, sir,” Lewis says, and identical sentiments follow.

“Then let’s get started!”

Lewis is the first to break off and head toward the table. He grabs the goggles, a dingy rag, some sort of apron, and a pair of gloves and then makes a beeline for Iman’s table. Lance follows suit and that makes the first decision for everyone else. Charles sticks with Carlos as they grab their PPE and then head toward the closest table. There is a flag over it, but neither of the men say anything. They watch as one of the students takes apart their engine. It looks around the size of the ones inside of their cars, but something is different about it. Something off.

“Wait, did you grab the wrong piece?” A man, whose shirt has the name Stephen on it, asks.

Everyone pauses and looks to him and then to the engine.

“Uh, I don’t think s… Oh for fuck’s sake,” says the woman, Jennifer.

The curse is said so softly that almost all of them have to stop themselves from laughing, Charles has to cover his mouth and Carlos turns away, but you can see his body vibrating with silent laughter. Jennifer catches all of them and glares before walking off toward what looks like a storage space at the back of the room.

When shes out of sight they all laugh out loud. It takes a minute to pull it together, but they manage it.

Stephen turns to Charles. “You noticed it too? I saw you looking at it weird.”

This isn’t really his wheelhouse, so Charles feels himself get a little unsure of how to answer, but he reminds himself that these are students, and they expect some sort of failure when learning so even if he sounded silly it wasn’t like they’d look at him too harshly. At least he hopes.

“Um, yes. It looks like the one we use, I’ve seen it a few times and though it may not be the same, something about it didn’t seem right. Though I’m not fully sure what.”

Stephen nods.

“It’s definitely something that would stand out if you’ve seen them enough. It’s why she’s mad, she’ll usually catch it when we do it. But if ya want we can walk y’all through it. This is just us kind of playing around with ideas at this point, so we have the time.”

Charles finds himself excited again and he takes a few steps closer to the table.

“We’d love that. It’ll impress and confuse our mechanics if we come back knowing more than we did before,” Carlos says.

All the others introduce themselves and when Jennifer returns, they dive deep into what they’re trying to do. Though they only planned to half take it apart they disassemble it completely and get Carlos and Charles in on putting it back together. How they explain it is half dumbed down and half with the understanding that the pilots would have some knowledge of what they’re doing. Though everyone else has rotated, an hour passes before a producer pulls them away from the table. It’s with a little grumbling from both of them, but they get why.

The rest of their adventure is much the same, though for shorter bursts. Even the tables without the flags are more than open to answering questions they may have and as time goes by Charles realizes that with each table, he’s able to understand what the hell they’re talking about. And it makes him think back to all the times he’s been confused listening to his mechanics about a million things. It’s all clicking for him.

“Hey Sharl!”

The voice startles him, and he turns toward it to see Lewis back at his sister’s table. The man is waving him over so Charles excuses himself and walks over. Daniel is making the table he’s at laugh at something and it’s probably some off the wall joke that sometimes has Charles looking at him like he’s lost it.

“Hi,” he says once he reaches the table.

“Hey. Saw you haven’t been here yet,” Lewis says.

“It was the next stop.”

“Mhm.” When Lewis says that there’s a look in his eyes that Charles can’t quite decipher so he doesn’t try to. He’s used to him keeping things a little close to the chest.

“Are you harassing that poor man, Lew?” Iman asks, without looking up.

“I’m not doing anything?”

“Mhm, sure you’re not.”

“I’m not! Tell her I’m not harassing you, Sharl.”

Charles finds himself laughing at the two. It’s like something he and his brother’s would do. High pitched voice while defending themselves and all.

“He’s not harassing me. I promise,” he says.

Iman finally looks up, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

“You sure you’re not just taking up for him, Charles? He’s not that big and bad, I promise.”

“I’m sure.”

“Let me know if he does, I’ll deal with him.”

She winks at Charles and then gets back to her work, explaining why she felt the need to lubricate a piece more than is usually called for. Her partners look unsure, but they go with it. As she does it, she explains out loud what it should do to the two pilots and Charles is having a hard time splitting between Lewis’ pouting - which is losing steam by the second - what she’s explaining and watching her. She’s so focused and even when the piece gives her problems she keeps going, barely getting frustrated.

And when she works, her smile is genuine and bright.

#charles leclerc x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

224 notes · View notes

softxsuki · 1 year

Note

Heyy, I have an urgent request. So I have an eating disorder (restrictive type anorexia) and it was caused because of my mom and how obsessed she was with my weigh and what I ate. I’m getting help but I’m relapsing so can I request Dabi x fem teen! Reader platonic who is struggling with this? Ty in advance! Have a nice day!

Dabi With Anorexic Reader (Platonic)

please don't read if you struggle with and E.D and reading about it will do you more harm than good. thx

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of anorexia, food, being thin, unrealistic weight goals, unhealthy relationship with food, some aggression from Dabi, toxic parents, mental health, trauma

Genre: Comfort??

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 630

Summary: In which Dabi finds out you've been starving yourself and tries to help you out in his own way

[A/N: Helloooooo. This was a tricky one because I can't imagine Dabi being soft and truly very helpful especially since he has his own issues, but I tried my best. Still not that great at writing for Dabi though, so if this triggers you or anything let me know and I'll delete it right away. Hopefully you enjoy it though :) ]

Dabi:

Dabi is blunt, he says things as he sees them and he doesn’t hold back

Having his own problems though, he’s definitely not the person you should go to for help about anything

But you were friends and after noticing how thin you were getting, he had some suspicions

“What’s up with you?” He’d gruffly ask, noticing how sickly you looked

You’d try to play it off, but he pushes you for an answer, he’ll make sure he gets one

You were like a little sister to him, someone he wanted to protect, yet you looked like you were going through a tough time

Knowing he’d never relent unless you give in and express what you’ve been going through, you tell him

“Just trying to lose some weight, no need to be worried”

Yeah, telling him not to worry isn’t gonna cut it. He’s flabbergasted that as thin as you are, you’re saying right to his face that you’re trying to lose weight

For the first time in his life, he tried holding himself back, not wanting to blow up at you because of his worries and possibly make you feel ever worse

But he can’t help it, what exactly is he supposed to do in this situation? Force you to eat? Wouldn’t that make things worse?

He was stunned in silence for a while, trying to collect himself before he said anything he might regret

But like I said, this man is blunt, and as someone who’s younger than him, and treated him like the older brother he always wanted to be, he can’t help but act accordingly

He’s furious as soon as you say you felt this way because of your mother. Why couldn’t parents mind their own business? He sure had his own struggles with parents, not that he wanted to get into that…

But he’s also upset at you for doing such a disservice to yourself, how could you let it get this far? How could HE have let you continue right under his nose without saying anything?

All he knows is he isn’t letting it continue

He’d do whatever he can to help you, which may seem aggressive at first as he refuses to allow you to leave his sight without eating something

He wanted you to know there was a difference between starving yourself and eating healthily

Being thin was one thing, but he wanted you to be healthy yet still being able to fill whatever body ideals you had for yourself in your mind

Perhaps those standards were warped, then he’d try and convince you to be healthier and to aim for a weight that was deemed healthy for someone your age and height

The last thing he’d want if for you too take it to far and to keep lowering your ideal weight since he knows that mental health issues like these get worse over time as you’d never be satisfied with any weight you reached

He hears out your concerns, knowing you’d fight him on a lot of things, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting you healthy. He didn’t care if it led you to hating him for the rest of your life, he was used to being alone and hated anyway

But for your sake, he takes things as slow as he can, slowly helping you improve and making you see that there are better ways to stay healthy and have a body that you’d be happy with without putting yourself at risk

So have a little patience with him, he means well. He’d never put this amount of effort in helping anyone, so that just goes to show how precious you are to him–his friend, someone who accepted him as he was, he’d make sure to protect you

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (i accept the ones that inspire me to write)

Posted: 10/1/2023

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #mha comfort #bnha comfort #dabi comfort #touya todoroki #touya x reader #mha headcanons #bnha headcannons #dabi headcanons

101 notes · View notes

deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

Note

Yandere Hercules, Jack, Buddha, Loki, Hades, Indra, Rudra, Ares (Target of her light teasing and playful flirts), Shiva (She basically adopts Ganesha) with Platonic Zerofuku (She adopts him) and Adam (Papa Mode: Activated!) with a Bell-mère Reader?

She was a Marine that retired to raise her 2 adoptive daughters after saving them, and raised them with the best of her abilities (Though she passed down her flirtatious behavior to them), she’s known to be a trouble maker, yet very loving and self-sacrificing towards her daughters as she was willing to only eat the fruit from her grove to have enough money to feed them, and in her final moments she was willing to sacrifice her own life to save them

She had enough money to save herself, but she used it to save both her daughters instead and believed this way she can ‘finally’ become their actual mother, as they’re a family, despite none of them sharing any blood (And in her final moments she smiled at them as she told them she loves them before being killed)

Now she’s resting in Valhalla, tending to her Tangerine Orchard with her newly adopted son Zerofuku, who she won’t hesitate to throw hands for him, because that’s what mothers do (She’ll also throw hands for Ganesha)

I love Bell-mère so much, she was such an amazing character and anyone in the world would be lucky to have someone like her as a mother (Nami and Nojiko are still alive so they’re not in Valhalla)

-You were one hell of a woman- you knew how to fight, you had a heart of gold, but you were also funny and flirty, and you wouldn’t hesitate to put anyone in their place.

-Many admired you around Valhalla, as you would always be willing to help someone out and children loved you, mainly because they liked listening to stories of when you were in the marines- sailing the oceans and fighting bad guys- it was so much fun!

-You didn’t talk much about any other aspects of your life, after you retired and how you had died, you would just smile but anyone could see the pain in your eyes.

-You spent your time tending to a large tangerine grove, something that you were given when you arrived in Valhalla, and while there were bittersweet memories attached to it- you grew to enjoy it again.

-You lived alone most days, as you did have one frequent house guest who sometimes brought another one along with him, but Zerofuku had been adopted by you the first day you met up- the child was just so bright and lively, and you loved to hug him.

-You surprised many when Zerofuku changed into his envy form for the first time around you, the negative emotions becoming too much for him, when you were able to calm him down and let him sob into your shoulder, holding him.

-Another guest that you’ve basically adopted was Ganesha, who had wandered into your grove and was amazed, and you greeted him warmly and he almost instantly attached himself to you- you just felt so warm and you always shared your tangerines with him.

-Shiva was another of your frequent guests, being dragged by Ganesha and you and him were very similar in personality, fun loving and cocky, but you could both back your skills up and you found a good friend in him, in both of them and the day you met his wives, you couldn’t help but tease Shiva, which instantly got his wives laughing and you all became good friends.

-You all flirted with each other, but it was more of the friendly type of flirting, where you all knew there would never be any romantic affections between you, but you were fine with that.

-Adam gave you the father figure you had always wanted, as you grew up in the marines with good role models, just nothing closer and you had always longed for a family.

-You had a family of your own, later in life, but nobody knew that, except for Brunnhilde, who brought you to Valhalla, and Adam, who is the father of humanity and knows all.

-Adam was… to you, besides your daughters, was the best thing that happened to you in life, he was not only a mentor, but he let you be weak, he let you cry into his shoulder, letting your emotions out because you knew he would protect you, and he would visit often, telling you how proud he was to have such a strong daughter.

-You had, somehow, managed to get the attention of several men in Valhalla, either with your cheerful nature, your shameless flirting, or that you could go toe-to-toe with them in a fight when you needed to let loose, or a combination of everything that made you… well you!

-You were a little hesitant about dating, when (Love) approached you with some flowers, asking you out, and for such a confident woman, he was surprised to see that you were rather shy about the idea of dating.

-It’s not that you were afraid of ‘dating’ you were afraid of losing everything again, you didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak of losing those you loved.

-(Love) was heartbroken when you told him, the first person you told in Valhalla, about your daughters, finding both of them in a war-torn country, orphaned, and you quit the marines shortly after to raise them, giving them a real family, on a tangerine grove.

-You swallowed, taking a drag of a cigarette, as you were trying to quit, before you told him of your death, how the pirates took over your island, and to live there, you had to pay for each resident, you had managed to raise enough money, but then the leader turned cruel, saying it was enough for either you or your two daughters.

-Since you couldn’t pay and you weren’t going to risk their lives, you paid for them instead and he shot you right in front of them after you called him a coward to his face.

-(Love) was amazed how strong you were, as anyone losing their family like that, in such a cruel way, would have been much colder to others.

-You just grinned, poking his cheek playfully, “I wouldn’t change the past for anything. My daughters were for the most part safe, so that’s all that matters to me!” he smiled softly before letting you lean into him, finally accepting his affections.

-Adored everything about you, didn’t care if you occasionally smoked, enjoys your playful teasing and it keeps things interesting, but also loves how kind and gentle you are, despite being capable of putting anyone in their place. Has learned not to flirt with you first, because you can and will have him folding in on himself as you shamelessly flirt, but you enjoy seeing him try. Helps out in your grove and doesn’t mind that you’ve basically adopted Zerofuku, he finds it cute actually, because he can see how happy the boy makes you and he knows it reminds you of your daughters because every now and then you will smile sadly. He knows how to solve this easily- with a huge hug and plenty of kisses!

-Hercules, Buddha, and Rudra

-Admires your strength, seeing how strong you are even in the face of heartbreak and anguish, seeing you smile and doting on other children, like your adopted son Zerofuku. Admires your warmth, your gentleness- he finds you to be a safe space for him, just like how Adam is with you, he can just relax and let his walls down around you. He tries to pretend that he’s not bothered by your flirting, but when you see him starting to get flustered you crack your knuckles and double down. You’re not bothered when he yells at you, you only laugh, when he tells you to give his heart a break, but how can you? He’s just way too fun to tease! Romantic with you, bringing you flowers or other small gifts, as you don’t need anything fancy, and neither one of you would trade this simple yet gentle feeling for anything in the world.

-Jack, Hades, and Indra

-Has learned not to flirt with you because not only will they lose- they will lose badly and you won’t stop until they are steaming from the head and unable to form a coherent word. You enjoy teasing him since he is so fun to rile up and he will try to flirt back (fight back) but it always ends in your victory. Does care deeply about you and wants nothing more than to make you happy and keep you happy- especially after learning about your past. He admires your work with children around Valhalla and had no issues with your adopted son, Zerofuku and he has actually come to become a father like figure to Zerofuku and sometimes they will sneak off and get into trouble. He adores you and wants nothing more than to stand by your side, but his main goal is to be able to beat you with flirting for once!

-Ares and Loki

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror zerofuku #ror adam #ror heracles #ror buddha #ror rudra #ror jack the ripper #ror hades #ror indra #ror ares #ror loki

146 notes · View notes

farvann · 7 months

Note

what are the main trios home lives like? do the masks in the art in your background photo symbolize Lila’s attitude towards connor and Vincent or their attitude towards Lila? What’s the monster-human relationship like? Or is Lila not human?

Lila lives her father. Her mother is estranged and her older brother has been away for awhile doing his own thing but he calls and visit occasionally. Her father is a master of hand to hand combat and has trained Lila in many different pratices (tae kwon do, martial arts, etc) so she’s strong and able to defend herself against anyone or anything. He worries and cares about her deeply but she barely has a social life because of it.

Vincent has two dotting snake mother who love him deeply and baby him a little. He’s never left his angsty teen phase and is always embarrassed by them in a “Moooooom stoooOOP” kinda way. They’re the type to whip out the baby pictures minutes into coming over. His older brother constantly in trouble as his main source of income is in shadow market potion dealing. He picks on Vincent constantly but he wouldn’t let anyone else pick on him. He’s also a gorgon like one of Vincent’s mom’s.

Connor has a very nice home life, the closest thing you can get too a suburban family if they were all blood thirsty monsters. He’s an only child and has two loving parents that want the best for him. Unfortunately he’s been homeschooled most of his life due to his lack of control over his true form so he’s a bit sheltered and it definitely didn’t help his social anxiety. They love him dearly but worry and maybe even scared of what he’s capable of.

Can’t answer those last two questions just yet BUT the drawing in my header is from an old amv I started 4 yrs ago but never finished.

22 notes · View notes

my-castles-crumbling · 7 days

Note

Hey, cas!

I think I need some advice. Apologies in advance if this sounds too urgent or something. I know one of your boundaries is to not feel pressured to answer immediately and I don’t want you to feel like that’s what I’m doing.

So school started again about three weeks ago but I was sick the entirety of last week, so I’ve only actually been to school for two. Where I live the school system is a bit different from America, but you could say that this is my first year of high school, only that I didn’t have to change schools.

Even though it’s only been two weeks, I’m already immensely stressed out. Now that I’ve been sick for a week, I’m scared I missed too much stuff, especially because the level of things we need to do has doubled since last year. I’ve always been pretty lazy and never really studied for anything except sometimes math. I never needed to because I got Bs and often As anyway. Now however I’m completely overwhelmed.

Last night I panicked so much about having to go back to school today, that I almost threw up. When I realized, I found myself thinking about forcing myself to throw up to prove to my mother that I was still sick so I wouldn’t have to go to school.

When I realized that that was what was going on I had another breakdown and didn’t do anything. I felt almost disgusted at myself for even thinking about that.

This morning I wanted to fake a headache, but ended up not because my mother kept insisting I go to school.

When I was on my way to school, my bike had issues, so I asked my mom to come help me. I had a breakdown before she even arrived. When she did, she tried to help me and understand what was going on, but I couldn’t really speak or listen to anything she told me. I think I may have had a panic attack of some sort.

When I’d calmed down enough to explain what was going on, she tried to reassure me that everything would be alright and that my grades didn’t matter to her. I knew all of that already, but it did calm me down a bit.

After we agreed that I can stay home today as long as I promise to go tomorrow, no matter what, she suggested that I go to therapy, which I was planning on asking for anyway.

All in all it doesn’t sound as bad anymore now that I’ve typed it all out like this. The only issue is that in my country Therapy waiting lists take an average of 6 months. I don’t know how I’m supposed to wait that long.

Do you have any advice on how to get my anxiety under control until then. Or how to feel less stressed about school in general. I can’t talk to my teacher because she’s very strict and her method of teaching people who don’t know stuff yet is to repeatedly call on them and throw them in ice water basically. I’m sure she means well, but it only increases my anxiety by a tenfold. What would you tell your students if they were having trouble with something?

I definitely struggled with this when I was younger, so I completely get it. I think one of the things about feeling overwhelmed like this is you feel like you have to get it all done in one day. So instead, could you maybe make a list of the things you need to get done, but then separate it into manageable chunks? Like Make up all your math work on Monday, science on Tuesday, etc? You could even show your teacher your plans to let her know you're working toward getting caught up.

Honestly, I would tell my student that you need to go easy on yourself. If you push yourself too much, you're going to end up learning less because you're too stressed! The people what expect you to be perfect aren't worth it. Take breaks, do a little at a time, and remind yourself that it's just as important to take care of yourself as it is to catch up <3

Sending love and naming you catch up anon!

#ask #asks #ask cas #catch up anon

7 notes · View notes

callmesel · 2 months

Text

Okay, after writing that sapphic Perciver au I’m still obsessed with that idea so

SaPe AU Percy

I feel like Percy would like her hair braid by Ginny (sister bonding!!) so it’s helps with her wild curly hair, ponytails is not really hers style. She feels like she looks bald with a ponytail and that is going to pull her hairline back and she doesn’t want that. When her hair is loose, normally when she sleeps, it goes around her waist, maybe even longer but it’s not too long that is uncomfortable. She has a 8 step hair care routine that she follows every single night and te twins have pranked her with one of the bottles making her hair neon blue. ( she cried when they told her she had to have it for a few days, they apologised with chocolates, she forgiven them but prank them back and blame it on Charlie because little Perfect Percy would never do such a think)

She is the cute and pretty type of girl. Not really sexy nor attractive. She is like the girls other girls complement and probably get the “I don’t know if I wanna be her or be with her”, normally the second one.

She is tall for a girl but still really skinny. Like, 1’70 m or 5’7”. Not the tallest but still tall.

Her hips and chest are average. Not too big but not too small. But she sometimes feels that she would look better if she was curvier but she doesn’t think about it too often.

She has pretty hands. She takes care of her hands and have gotten compliments for them by the old lady at the library. The does her manicure and sometimes do it with Ginny at the Burrow and do a girls night at her room. Her nails are always a pale pink and if they’re not is because someone else painted them, she let Ron paint it for her and he choose a bright orange with yellow, she never let anyone do her nails again.

She has big blue eyes and long eyelashes and pretty pink lips and in Olivia’s opinion they are very distracting

She likes pretty things and pretty dresses but because her family is poor, she has to use her older brother’s trousers that are too big for her. Penn and Olivia spoil her with candy and clothes and books and what ever she wants or likes. She blushes every time they give her something but she is grateful. Ans she bakes and cooks for them as a thank you and they love it.

I think she would be like the shy nerd kid on the outside but if you met her she is really to be around with and she also goes into a lot of trouble but thankfully she has the twins as her brothers so she just blame them for anything and no one questions her. And other classmate once caught her doing something against the rules and told Mcgonagall but because they didn’t have any proof they got a talk from different teachers about spreading lies and that sweet Percy wouldn’t do such a thing blah blah blah. The classmate was, to say the least, annoyed.

Something about being the good student that always does everything right and never cause trouble that helps her a lot.

Who have stolen some ingredients from the potion room? Sure wasn’t Percy, no need to check her purse that sure isn’t full of those stolen ingredients. Who put glue on Snape’s chair? And there is an orange hair on the side! It must have been the twins or Ron and the Potter kid! Even though the hair is curly, but it can be Percy, her brothers must have wanted to incriminate her!

I feel like she is really talkative if you give her the chance to speak about topics she likes, like how pretty Livvy’s eyes are

Penny and FemPercy would have been the best of friends and they would have a girls night out every Saturday. And watching muggle romance movies and cry to Lalaland. She would have loved it.

She is the mother hen, how wouldn’t she? Oldest daughter and older sister of four, she has to take care of her children.

I also have the idea that she could be mtf, that would explain why Molly keep having children after her first daughter was born. She transitioned before Hogwarts, (but I feel that would have been too rush as at 11 y/o you wouldn’t really understand how you feel and in the 90’s you don’t really have that posibility in your head but it can be!) and she feels that she has to prove her mother that she is worthy of her love because I’m sure Molly would have tried to tell her that she was just confused and Bill and Charlie would have to protect her from the harsh words she was telling Percy.

I think that would be an interesting dynamic and imagine how she would reacted after telling Olivia who she was before and she just kisses her and tells her that not matter what, her heart it will be always with you. Or something like that. And she just cries because she is really happy that someone she loves so much fully accepts her and love her just the same or even more.

I also feel that people like to gossip about her, idk. She looks like someone that if she was in high school, nasty rumors would be circulating around her. Like “teacher’s pet” or “she can’t be that good, she must have dones sometí g to get that grade”. But after a while it just disappeared but in 3rd and 4th year it was really bad. But I also think that no one would really care abo her? Like, she is liked by most people but they are not friends. She kinds of sees to me like the type of classmate you think they’re cool but you don’t actually talk to. She is popular in her own way.

I also feel that many people (boys and girls) had a crush on her but never made a move because number 1, her siblings are scary and 2 she doesn’t seem interested. She have gave Hermione the butterflies, (that girl had a crush on every Weasley and you can’t convince me otherwise)

She also has a teddy bear, (Mr Tallyton?? Is that you?) that she brings everywhere and Olivia thinks that is super cute by Percy keeps the teddy bear in a special drawer that it’s decorated as a bed.

She is sweet, attentive, caring, intelligent, funny, charismatic in her own way and really pretty.

I think that it’s all. Olivia is going next 😈 also I’m making art for them because I can’t sleep as I keep thinking about them.

#percy weasley #fem percy weasley #mtf #trans Percy Weasley #sapphic perciver au #perciver

8 notes · View notes

aylacavebear · 6 months

Text

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 24

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 2838

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst, Self-deprecating thoughts, Insecurities, Depression, Past Traumas, and Insecurities come to light. (Please, if you suffer from these things, seek someone trustworthy to talk to. You really aren't alone.)

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic. This one is taking on a life of it's own in a turn I hadn't anticipated, so adding a new tag.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 24

Dean lay in bed, lost in his thoughts. He wasn’t feeling the amount of emotions he had been the night before, which he figured was because she was sleeping. Again, he glanced over at the clock; after seven. He rested his arm on his forehead, staring at the ceiling.

How the hell am I supposed to even talk to her with as upset as she seems?

That was the main question that kept circling back in his mind. The others concerned things beyond that. He groaned before climbing out of bed, getting dressed, and going into the kitchen for coffee. There, he found Maria, Sam, and Bubbles sitting at the table. The mood of the room didn’t seem tense, but it wasn’t jovial either.

“Mornin’ Sweetheart,” he told her with a soft smile, sitting next to his brother, who was across from her.

“Morning,” she somewhat mumbled, not looking up at him, making his smile fade.

Dean sighed silently and then went into the library. He was beginning to feel like he was the reason for her down mood. So, he did the only thing he could think of: not be around her.

“Why do you get like that around him?” Sam asked curiously after Dean had left.

She shrugged slightly, still looking down at the table, “I’m scared,” she answered so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her.

“What are you scared of?” he asked, keeping that soft, comforting tone. At least she was opening up a little.

Bubbles climbed into her lap, and Maria rested her hand on her back, not looking up at Sam. He took note of how she wouldn’t look at him, had barely drank any of her coffee, and how she looked utterly terrified.

“Okay, let me try that again. I know Rowena probably said a lot of things to you, things to make Dean and me look like bad people who couldn’t be trusted,” he paused, carefully choosing his next set of words. “Dean and I have had to make some hard choices in the past. We lost people, good people, in the process. The two of us have even been killed a few times along the way.”

She looked up at him, “You died before?” she asked, seeming confused.

He chuckled a little, “Yeah. Somehow, Dean and I have always managed to find a way back, though.” He let out another sigh, “When it comes to Rowena, she’ll tell you what she wants so that she gets what she wants. She’ll even pretend to be your friend and care about you.”

She just stared at him for a few minutes, although he could see so many emotions flash in her eyes before she looked back down at the table. “I guess I just don’t know what to think or believe,” she mumbled, making him sigh again.

He noticed how she almost seemed to shy away, “I’m not upset or mad at you. I just don’t know what to say or do to help you believe me. Dean and I just want to keep you safe. That’s our first priority. We’d also like to get to know you, outside of keeping you safe.”

Again, she wouldn’t look up at him. That was when something hit him, and he had an idea, “Okay. When Dean brought up bringing you here that night at the bar, did he just make you go, taking you against your consent, or did he ask you if you’d come here?”

Sam noticed how she looked to think about his question, “He asked me,” she replied quietly.

He breathed in a breath of relief. At least he’d gotten her thinking, “He left the decision up to you. Now, when Rowena wanted to talk to you, did she do the same?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, watching her carefully.

“No, she didn’t,” she answered, still quietly, but at least it looked like she was thinking about it.

“That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. We’re not going to force anything on you, including staying here. If you’d rather be at your home back in Arizona, we wouldn’t stop you,” he told her gently.

That was when the tears fell, and she looked away from him completely, trying to wipe them from her cheeks as fast as they were falling. Sam didn’t think twice. He got up, sat next to her, and pulled her into a hug. Whether she was going to admit it or not, she needed one. He felt her lean in and bury her face in his chest, gripping his shirt as she cried. Sam gently rubbed her back. Her body shook with her sobs. Bubbles woke up but didn’t move from her lap.

Dean had been watching some of the interactions from the kitchen doorway. At least she was letting someone comfort her, even if it wasn’t him. Sam did notice him. The two of them nodded slightly before Dean returned to the library, feeling somewhat relieved.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam told her gently, “You’re not alone in all this crazy mess. I know it might feel that way and it’s scary to let people get close, especially a couple of strangers as weird as me and Dean are. But, I can promise you that you’re safe here with us.”

She almost seemed to sob harder at his words. He could only speculate on what had gotten her to the point of not trusting people, or perhaps it was just men, but he wasn’t sure and had no clue how to get her to open up.

He let her cry for a bit longer before he spoke again, “I know you’re probably having some trust issues, with Rowena just taking you yesterday. I had wanted to give you that hex bag earlier, but you were sleeping when I finished making them. We had been worried she’d show up and try something. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it sooner.”

Again, she cried harder, and he gently rubbed her back and held her. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she finally started to calm down, but he’d chosen to stop talking. He felt terrible that she seemed to cry more every time he said something.

“I’m sorry,” she finally mumbled but hadn’t pulled away.

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. After everything that’s happened to you in the last week, I’m surprised you aren’t worse off,” he told her, still gently rubbing her back.

She sniffled a little and pulled away, mostly to dry her eyes and cheeks, “I’m sorry I questioned you and Dean. I didn’t think about it the way you brought it up,” she told him quietly. “I feel bad.”

He gave her a compassionate smile, “You still don’t have to apologize. We honestly just want you to feel comfortable while you’re here if you want to stay.” Sam thought momentarily before continuing, “Is there anything you want me to tell Dean? I understand you’re scared, and I don’t want you to feel obligated to talk to him if you don’t want to.”

That made her look up at him, and Sam could see just how sad she was really feeling, “I’m scared because Astaria had told me that I met my soulmate recently. It’s you, Dean, or Crowley. And that… terrifies me,” she whispered.

“I can tell you that it’s not me. And I can prove that if you let me touch your hand. It might help you not be so scared,” he offered, again being gentle and trying to coax her a little.

When she nodded her head, Sam moved his hand from her back to the hand she had on his shirt. She probably hadn’t even realized that she was still holding onto it. He gave her a soft, reassuring smile as he gently squeezed her hand. Both of them missed Bubbles smile.

“See, no reaction. That’s how you find out, letting someone touch your skin,” he explained softly, “There’s no rush, though, if you want to find out about Dean. When you’re ready, okay?”

She nodded a little before she got up, Bubbles flying so that she was next to her, “I think I’m gonna take a nap,” she whispered.

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” he replied, giving her another soft smile before she and Bubbles headed out of the kitchen.

Dean watched from where he sat in the library. She barely glanced at him as she went down the hallway to her room, and Dean sighed. Sam joined him shortly after and explained what happened in the kitchen.

“She’s just gonna need some time, but at least now she knows how to find out who her soulmate is,” he tried to reassure Dean.

He sighed, “At least she was talking, even if it’s not to me.”

Sam felt for his brother. They hadn’t found much information on soulmates, and it wasn’t like they could just talk to Astaria to get more information on the topic. Neither of them realized that because Dean felt the pull toward her first, he also felt part of what she was going through.

“Dean,” he began sympathetically, “I already told you, she’s terrified that her soulmate is Crowley. At least try to understand that.”

“I do, Sammy. I just wish I could show her she’s wrong,” he said sadly.

A half-hour later, Bubbles came out of her room and joined the two in the library. Sleeping. The word flashed through Dean’s mind, and he nodded his head. Then, she flew a few feet from the table, reached out, and “drew” a line as tall as the brothers. A golden line appeared that also pulsed slightly. Bubbles looked over at the brothers and motioned them to go over to her.

The two shared a look, and Bubbles rolled her eyes. Astaria. Dean raised an eyebrow before he looked back over at his brother, “Well, you want to talk to Astaria?” he asked.

“Wait? What?” Sam asked, somewhat confused.

“Bubbles apparently wants to take us to see her,” he answered before he got up and took a deep breath.

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what to think, but they hoped it might help, so he, too, got up and followed Bubbles and his brother through the dimensional opening. Both of them looked around in utter awe. The trees and plant life were massive.

“I feel like an ant,” Sam said as he looked around.

Bubbles had already begun flying down the path they were on but stopped and turned to them, “You coming?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“Dean,” Sam said, smacking his brother on the shoulder, trying to get his attention, “it talked.”

Dean laughed hard, then shook his head in amusement, “At least I don’t have to play middle man,” he replied, still chuckling some. “Come on, Sam.”

He began following Bubbles, and Sam reluctantly followed him. It was a short walk before the path opened up to what looked like a little village. Bubbles kept flying, though, so they kept following. The people there looked at the brothers following the little purple dragon, but that was considered normal to them. The brothers weren’t sure what to think of the friendly smiles and waves they were given, so they just returned the smiles and waves.

Bubbles finally stopped in front of a large tree that looked like it had been turned into a home inside the trunk. She knocked on the door, and a woman opened it. She had long black hair, light blue eyes, a petite figure, and a soft smile.

“You’re back,” she said to Bubbles, who nodded her head and gestured to the brothers. She tilted her head a bit, looking them over. “Well, you aren’t Pari, and neither of you carries the gene. She clearly brought you here for a reason, and it must have something—” she stopped. A look of realization hit her: “OH MY GOD! You’re her soulmate.”

“Finally,” Bubbles said, rolling her eyes before she flew over and landed on the table where Maria and Astaria had sat and talked before. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Can you help us understand soulmates a little more?” Sam asked a little hesitantly.

“Of course,” she replied kindly, gesturing to the table where a third chair appeared.

The brothers sat across from Astaria with Bubbles seated on the table near Dean, “I’m Astaria. I’m going to guess you’re Dean and you’re Sam. Maria has told me about the two of you. It’s nice to put faces to names finally,” she said with a soft smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Dean said, finding it much easier to smile and relax now.

“Did you believe in soulmates before you met her, Maria?” Astaria asked.

“Honestly, it’s come up a couple of times, but neither of us took any stock in it. We’re hunters. Having a normal life and relationship isn’t something we put much stock in given how dangerous our job is,” Dean replied, almost surprised at how easy it was to just talk to her.

“It wasn’t that we believed or didn’t believe. It’s not something that happens often where we’re from,” Sam added, relaxing more.

“Well, that explains why you were able to hear her familiar before she could. You didn’t have any bias on the topic,” she stated.

Astaria then went on to explain soulmates to the two of them. Every Pari has a soulmate; sometimes, it can take lifetimes before they find each other. Soulmates share a connection and if it’s strong and welcomed, they can even go as far as talking telepathically to each other through that connection. They can feel each other’s emotions, physical pains, and sensations, as well as find each other if they are separated. In order for a non-believer to believe, skin-to-skin contact must be made for the connection to begin. Then, the non-believer has to be open to explore the connection further.

The brothers sat and listened to her. Dean wondered how the hell he was even going to be able to get close enough to her to attempt that or if it was even a good idea to initiate the contact.

“Right now, she’s overwhelmed and terrified. I don’t know how much she shared with you about her life. The dimension you all are from doesn’t welcome those that are different. After her accident, when her powers started, she figured no one would ever want her,” Astaria explained, then sighed, “She figured she’d always be alone.”

Dean felt a tear slide down his cheek, then Bubbles’ hand on his, which was resting on the table in front of him. He quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath. “So, how do I even get close to her?” He was always suave when it came to women, but Maria was different. He wanted more with her than he’d wanted with any woman, and it scared the hell out of him.

Astaria thought momentarily, debating how to answer his question, “Well, just be yourself. That really is my best advice. I did make it clear to her that she’d have to make a choice. It really is up to her, no matter how much being apart from her is hurting you. The dragon will be there for you, let her. It won’t be the same comfort, but the more you let her in, the easier it will be for you.”

That wasn’t the answer he hoped for, but it gave him a starting point.

“Dean, we should get back, before she wakes up. I told her we’d be there,” Sam told his brother, wanting to ensure he kept his word to her, especially after the Rowena incident.

“Well, it was nice to have met the two of you, and I’m sure I’ll see you again,” Astaria told them with a soft smile. “Dean, just be yourself, honestly. I can see the kind of heart and soul you have. You’re too hard on yourself. You aren’t why she’s sad, so stop thinking that.”

Ouch, Dean thought to himself, but he just gave her a friendly smile, “I’ll remember that.”

“Nice to meet you too, Astaria,” Sam replied.

The brothers followed Bubbles back to the dimensional portal, both lost in their thoughts. Dean even chuckled to himself, having the moment from the Disney movie Aladdin play through his mind, where the genie had told Aladdin to be himself.

Once back inside the bunker, Bubbles closed the rift and flew to Maria’s room. Dean double-checked the time. They’d been gone a couple of hours, even if it hadn’t felt that long. He just kept reminding himself, to be himself around her. Although now, he needed a drink, so went for the whiskey. He felt like all his nerves were on edge. Give him monsters any day of the week. Ask him to be himself around his soulmate, who doesn’t believe in soulmates, and he turns into a nervous wreck on the inside.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 25

Tag List: @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you

#spn #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural oc #dean winchester x femaleoc #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #soulmates

13 notes · View notes

gottamarauder · 2 years

Text

Cosmic Dancer (Part 2)

Word Count: 4,630

CW: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, eventual smut, strangers to friends to lovers, drug use.

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged Part 1! Here's Part 2, once again not proofread, because I will analyze it to death and never post again.

Part 1

The next day, Colette found it hard to concentrate on any of her tasks. Her mind kept wandering off into what might happen that evening. While she had definitely been anxious the first two times she had spent time with Eddie, it was nothing in comparison to how she felt that Saturday. Without some form of schoolwork to keep them preoccupied, Colette wasn’t sure how the evening would go. And she desperately wanted it to go well.

While it was the right thing to do, Colette hadn’t offered to tutor Eddie purely out of the goodness of her heart. She had harbored a small crush on him since they sat a few seats apart in a typing class when she was a sophomore. The first thing she noticed about Eddie was his hands. The way his fingers moved with precision across the keys, which considering he’d already taken the class before wasn’t a huge feat, but she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking peaks.

From then on, she would always look for him in the halls at school, and would catch herself looking over at the table he ate lunch at. He spoke and laughed loudly and without regard to what the people around him would think. He was completely, unabashedly Eddie. Something that had never come easily to Colette but something she admired all the same.

Colette had just copped it up to a silly school girl crush, until the past summer when she saw the way he looked at her at Lover’s Lake. While she was definitely no Elle McPherson, this wasn’t the first time someone had looked at her in that manner. For the past couple years, once she learned how to dress in a way that accentuated her body type, rather than trying to get her body to look good in the current fashions, Colette would get the occasional once over. But it was never more than that. Even when a few guys had approached her, they didn’t ask her out on dates. They wanted to meet under the bleachers, or at Benny’s to fool around. She wasn’t the girl they would make their girlfriend, she was the fat girl they wanted to fuck for fun.

When Mrs. Dodson asked her if she would tutor Eddie, she thought maybe if she got him to like her as a friend first, maybe something could happen. Maybe her crush wouldn’t be so silly anymore.

Once he arrived, Colette lead Eddie to the back porch looking over her mother’s garden full of sunflowers and sweet alyssum. He made himself comfortable as he sat in one of the rocking chairs and set up shop on the glass side table.

“Looks like a picture from Good Housekeeping back here.” Eddie commented as he shred the herb with his fingers.

“Yeah, my mom’s really into it.”

“You're not much of a gardener?”

“Ha! No. My mom won’t even let me help her pull weeds anymore.”

Colette watched as he expertly filled the rolling paper. Interested, she grabbed the baggy and saw letters written in black marker. “What’s GSC?”

“Girl Scout Cookies. It’s the name of the strain.” Eddie explained without looking up. “Was probably named after what the person who first smoked it ate afterwards.”

“Is that how most strains are named?”

Eddie rolled the joint tightly in his fingers, “Some, there’s Bubble Gum, Peaches and Cream…” he brought the paper to his mouth, “Cherry Pie.” Eddie’s eyes met her’s while his tongue glided across the joint to seal it.

The pinkish hue kissed her cheeks and Eddie laughed while she buried her face in her hands. “Why are you like this?” She asked unable to stop herself from giggling.

“I like to make you blush.” He answered simply as he lit the joint held between his thumb and index finger.

“It’s not exactly difficult.”

“Yeah, I noticed. But just because something’s easy doesn’t mean it’s not fun. Take Savannah Sawyer for example.” Eddie laughed which turned into a disgruntled pout when the girl next to him kicked his shin. “Hey!”

“That’s not nice, Savannah was always really sweet.” Colette scolded, taking the joint from his fingers like a cigarette. “Either way, why is it okay for guys to sleep around but when a girl does, she’s a slut?”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being slutty. Freaks like me wouldn’t get laid if there wasn’t slutty girls.”

“You shouldn’t call yourself that. Self-deprecating isn’t a good look on anyone.” Colette tried her best not to look disheartened. Of course a guy like Eddie would be into girls with experience. Colette took a long hit off the joint, holding the smoke in her lungs for a while before exhaling. “So you and Savannah…?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at the question as he tried to keep himself from smirking.

“I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. I don’t know why I eve—“

“An Eddie never kisses and tells.” He teased. “But I will say that you were right…she was sweet.”

Colette scrunched up her nose and passed the joint back to a laughing Eddie. “I didn’t ask for explicit details. Jeez…”

“That? That wasn’t explicit, that was alluding.” He took a hit from the joint. “However, I have no shame in asking explicit questions.”

“You have no shame period.” Colette was already feeling heavy in the rocking chair.

“Fair enough. Did you bone Adam Del Rossi last year?”

Colette coughed loudly, surprised at his bluntness. “Oh my god, no! Why would you even ask that?”

Eddie shrugged, “I just remember seeing him hang around you and Vickie and her boyfriend…” He snapped his fingers, “What’s his name?”

“Dan?”

“Yeah, Dan! So what happened?”

“Nothing… Adam was a fucking creep. He always asked me to pose for him.” She replied her face scrunched up in disgust.

Eddie’s eyes widened, “Like pose nude for one of his paintings?”

“Yeah! He said something about wanting to challenge himself by using a less conventional model and he really liked to paint cellulite. ”

“Man, that’s fucked up. What a piece of shit… Well I’m glad it wasn’t him.”

“What wasn’t him?” Colette asked, not sure if she was just high or if he wasn’t making sense.

“You know, the guy you boned.” Eddie explained poorly, waving the joint in his hand.

Colette laughed, “What are you talking about? I haven’t—“

“Haven’t what?”

“Haven’t anything, I— Nevermind, I don’t even know why we’re talking about this.” Colette was flustered and Eddie’s mind was reeling.

“What do you mean anything? You have to have done something!” Colette shook her head as she leaned against the porch rail. “Come on… You’ve kissed someone.”

Colette smiled a little then, “I kissed a girl at camp on a dare, but I don’t feel like that really counts. Because it was a dare, not because it was with a girl.”

Eddie knew that he shouldn’t have liked that no guy had ever touched her before. That was some gross alpha male bullshit that he didn’t buy into. But as he tugged at his tightening jeans, he knew that her supposed virtue would somehow bleed into his late night fantasies.

“I don’t get it, are you waiting for marriage or some shit like that?”

“No… I just. I dunno…” Colette trailed off with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Just a hopeless romantic waiting for a white knight to come riding through, huh?” Eddie teased.

“No.” She playfully swiped the joint from his fingers and brought it to her lips thoughtfully. “I think maybe… I don’t want to be an experiment or a novelty. It should just be like how real people get together. I dunno, I’m probably not making sense.”

“We’ll just chalk it up to you being baked.” Eddie replied, despite her making perfect sense to him.

“Pfft, I am not baked.”

“Look at me.” Eddie ordered.

Colette turned and tried to look at him with a serious face, but immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” Eddie ashed the joint and packed his lunchbox before leading a still giggling Colette into the house. “Come on, it’s my turn to pick the movie.”

After about 20 minutes of convincing Colette that he wasn’t too high to drive, in fact, he’d been more high driving to school the morning before, they took his van to Family Video. For a Saturday night, it was fairly slow, only a few cars loitered around the parking lot.

Once they were inside, Colette made to follow Eddie, who shooed her off.

“Nuh-uh, I’m picking the movie Princess. I don’t need you batting your lashes at me to get me to change my mind.”

Colette giggled, “I’m not batting my lashes, you just rushed me to the van before I could get to the Visine.”

“Regardless,” Eddie regarded her thoughtfully, her eyes were red and her appearance less tidy than usual, but he relished in the relaxed air about her. Eddie had yet to see that side of her, the side that wasn’t afraid to take up the space she inhabited. Her normally tucked in wings loosened up around her, giving him a better view of the shimmering plumage. Eddie bit his lip and shook his head once, before continuing, “you’ll just have to trust the process. You had your movie, now it’s my turn.”

Colette pouted before relenting with a roll of her eyes, “Fine but nothing too scary.”

“Of course,” he called over his shoulder as he went straight to the horror section, a Cheshire Cat grin across his face.

Colette made her way in the opposite direction toward the new releases where Robin Buckley was shelving the latest returns and talking quietly to no one in particular.

“Yeah, I really like your new skirt. It’s uh— really green…” Robin let out a frustrated groan, lightly smacking a copy of He-Man and She-Ra to her forehead.

While Colette witnessed all of this, the only thing she could focus on in her inebriated state was the tone of Robin’s voice. “Wow.” She accidentally exclaimed aloud.

Robin turned to her, face like a deer caught in headlights, “Oh—uh hey! Colette. How’s it uh— how’s it going? Did you need some help?”

“No… I’m so sorry it’s just— you have a gorgeous voice!”

The tall blonde blinked twice, “I— what?”

Colette shook her head and laughed nervously, “Vickie had brought it up the other day that you have this sweet, raspy voice, and I guess I just never noticed.”

“Vickie said that?”

“Oh yeah, well you guys are in band together and everything” as Colette trailed off, Eddie appeared at her side.

“Whacha doin’ over here, Princess? Trying to sell Buckley some Girl Scout Cookies?” He casually wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“Nope, I’m on the verge of asking her to read the telephone book to me though.”

Eddie looks exasperated, “I was only browsing for a few minutes, you can’t be that bored already.”

Colette waved him off, grabbing the video without looking at the title, “Nevermind you wouldn’t get it. Robin can you check us out?”

“Sure.” Robin was quick to wave them off, ready to find Steve in the back to relay the conversation she just had. “Have a good night guys! Enjoy your movie!”

Colette let out a sigh, as she and Eddie turned to the door, “Sweet and smoky just like Vickie said. Ooohh! Like Smoked Honey Butter!”

“What are you even talking about?”

“It’s between me and Rob—“ but as Colette turned to look at the blonde, she was already gone. “Yep, definitely Smoked Honey Butter.”

“Now you’re just making me hungry.” Eddie whined as he opened the passenger door for Colette.

“We’ll feed you when we get back to the house.” She soothed easily. Hmm, Colette thought, this must be what all the fuss is about.

After making snacks, Colette was comfortably nestled on the couch as Eddie put the tape in the VHS player. As he rounded the coffee table to sit down, Eddie grabbed both of Colette’s legs lifting them up as he sat in the space they previously occupied. “Ladies and Gentleman please lower and secure the lap bar in front of you.” Eddie lowered her legs making mechanical sounds as Colette put her hand in front of her mouth the keep from laughing. “Hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”

“You are a child.” Colette smiled. She liked how the pleasant haziness of the second‘Girl Scout Cookies’ joint made her feel. Otherwise she knew her brain would be hyper analyzing every movement Eddie’s hands made. At this particular moment, everything new felt natural.

Eddie’s voice joined the narration in a mock serious tone as the movie started, “The film with you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths…”

“Oh no!” Colette hid her face in a throw pillow. “I should have known you’d pick a slasher film.”

“Hey, I suggested The Shining first! You’re the one that called it a ‘dark comedy’.”

“Because it is! Not the book, but the movie is!” Colette insisted.

Eddie took the pillow from her hands, and replaced it with the bowl of popcorn before continuing the last of the narration. “The events of that day were to lead to the discovery of one of the most bizarre crimes in the annals of American history, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

Colette kept her eyes glued to the screen, occasionally making a face when something particularly gruesome came on the screen. Meanwhile, Eddie was having a hard time focusing on the movie at all. His attention mostly fixed on the plush thighs laid across his lap. He kept one arm casually draped crossed the top of the couch and the other resting on Colette’s left knee. Eddie’s hands itched to be buried in the thick flesh of her creamy thighs. Once he noticed her shorts riding up a little in between her thighs, Eddie groaned audibly.

“Hey, you’re the one who picked this.” Colette chastised, her face scrunched up as Leatherface plunged his chainsaw into Franklin’s chest.

Eddie pulled his eyes away from her thighs to focus on the screen while Colette readjusted her legs in his lap. “You’re right. I did.” Not at all amused by the irony of watching blood on the screen, while he found himself willing the blood in his body not to rush straight to his dick.

Eddie finally found himself immersed in the last act of the movie, watching as Leatherface and Nubbins dragged Sally over to Grandpa, Colette jumped, the empty bowl of popcorn clattering to the floor while she hid her face in the cushion close to his shoulder.

“It’s not funny!” Her words muffled by the cushion as Eddie let out an unattractive snort at her expense. “I didn’t think he was alive, I thought that was a corpse!”

Once Eddie’s laughter died down he looped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. “I’ll protect you from old Grandpa, I promise.”

Colette felt her heart flutter in her chest, she’d never been held like this before. The violent acts of the movie were lost on her as she soaked in every aspect of him. She breathed in the scent of him, warm amber mixed with a small hint of smoke from their earlier excursion. Reveling in this new feeling, she mumbled into his t-shirt, “Yeah, you better.”

For the next few weeks, Saturdays were for Colette and Eddie. Sometimes they would work on school work, sometimes they would just watch movies and enjoy being together. But there would be times in the warm, comfortable state of her resting her head on his chest, or him laying his head in her lap while she played with his hair, that the tension was no longer just tangible but suffocating.

The trouble wasn’t the tension, it was the people who sat on either side of it. Colette too afraid that she would just be a ship in the night for Eddie, she didn’t want to be someone’s way to pass the time. And Eddie, too afraid of getting too comfortable with someone that could leave and take that with them. In short, they were both stubborn little shits who wouldn’t budge from the ledges they stood on in fear that the other person would merely watch as they fell into the depths of whatever came next.

On the last Sunday morning of October, the phone rang twice in the Turner’s kitchen before Colette grudgingly made her way to it. The previous night, Eddie had cancelled on account of feeling sick. Colette, ever the optimist, immediately assumed he was no longer interested in hanging out with her anymore and all the instances where she thought maybe he would kiss her were purely a result of her projecting her feelings onto him. She never changed out of her pajamas that morning, and hadn’t even thought about taking her long hair out of the bun she put it in before bed the night before. She was planning on wallowing in self-pity for the rest of the day and the phone ringing so early in the morning was not fitting into her full schedule.

“Hello?”

“Hey…” Eddie coughed his voice sounding tired and hoarse.

Colette perked up immediately, “Oh no, you sound miserable.”

“No need to sound so chipper about it.”

“I’m sorry, I just thought… Nevermind. What’s up?”

Eddie didn’t press her, which was a testament to how bad he really felt. “I was hoping you could do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Anything?” Eddie could somehow hear her rolling her eyes through the phone.

“Anything within reason.”

“Could you maybe come by and pick up my paper for Mrs. Click’s class? She doesn’t take late work sick or not.”

“Of course, do you need anything else?” Colette asked concerned.

“No, that’s all. I’m just going to try and sleep it off. Wayne’s sick too but he won’t miss a day of work for nothing.”

“That’s too bad… I’ll head over this afternoon to pick up your paper.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Colette hung the phone up and without missing a beat yelled across the house, “Momma, do we have any chicken?”

Colette arrived in Forest Hills trailer park around five that afternoon with a giant Tupperware container full of chicken noodle soup, a cake carrier with a pound cake, and a small Tupperware container for Wayne to take to work along with a large piece of cake wrapped in tin foil. As she parked next to Eddie’s van, Wayne Munson stepped out the door dressed in his work clothes

“Mr. Wayne?” Colette asked before he made it to his truck.

“Yes?” He sounded just as bad, if not worse than Eddie had.

“I’m Colette Turner, I’m Eddie’s…” She wanted to say friend, but she wasn’t sure if that was the correct term, “I’ve been helping Eddie with some schoolwork.” Wayne nodded for her to continue, “Anyway, Eddie wanted me to pick up some work to turn in for him tomorrow and I brought some soup and yeah…”

“Door’s open. Eddie’s asleep but he left his paper on the coffee table.” Wayne started to walk away.

“Hold on!” She handed over the smaller containers, “Eddie told me you were still goin’ to work, so I went ahead and set these aside for you.”

Wayne looked down at the containers she had passed him before asking, “Where you from?”

“Um, we moved here from South Georgia when I was three.”

“You must sound like your momma then.” He surmised.

“Yes sir. Sometimes I’ll answer the phone and her friends will start talking to me thinkin’ I’m her.”

“What’s in the tin foil?”

“Sour Cream Pound Cake.”

“Hmm… Well, thank you. This is all very nice.”

“Yes sir.” Colette knew he was doing his best not to sound suspicious, but that only made Colette all the more sad. People shouldn’t have to question kindness.

Wayne drove off as Colette opened the door to the Munson’s trailer. Black Sabbath was playing loudly in what Colette assumed to be Eddie’s room down the hall. After setting down the soup and cake holder she should have just grabbed Eddie’s paper and left. But looking around the trailer, not filthy, but definitely in need of some attention, she couldn’t help herself.

Eddie woke up to hear a loud sound coming from the living room. He checked his watch for the time. 06:46. Wayne should be gone for work. He took his time getting out of bed, everything hurt. When he opened the door, he saw Colette vacuuming in the living room. I must have a fever. Or maybe this is an acid flashback. But as the sleep started to fade from his eyes and she continued, he realized that fever dreams and acid flashbacks were usually much more creative than the girl he liked cleaning up his living room.

Colette looked up just as she was finishing to see Eddie, clad only in his boxers, looking at her very confused as he leaned against the wall panel. Her face immediately turned red. “Hey, I’m sorry I figured if you could sleep with your music that loud you wouldn’t hear the vacuum.”

“What are you doing?” He asked groggily.

“Well, when you asked me to come pick up your paper, I thought I’d make you some chicken noodle soup. And my mom is really insistent on making things a certain way, so it was taking a while for everything to simmer so I thought, ya know, who doesn’t like pound cake? So then I barely caught your Uncle on his way out. I was just gonna pick up the trash and take it out, but then I saw that the counters should be wiped down. So when I went to do that I saw the dishes in the sink, but there was no soap. So I went to check the laundry room to see if there was any in there and someone had forgotten to turn on the washing machine… And I’m an insane person who doesn’t respect people’s boundaries… I’m so sorry. I’m gonna go.”

Eddie could barely keep up with all she was saying, his head was already aching without her rambling. But as she grabbed her keys and the paper he had left on the coffee table, he found a word, “Wait!” He bounded over to Colette, eyes wide, and pulled her to his chest. His nose was stuffy but he could still smell the floral scent of her shampoo when he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Thank you. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Soooo… Not too over the top?” She said against his naked chest.

“Oh definitely over the top, if I didn’t like you so much I’d be calling the guys at Pennhurst to come get you.” Eddie teased.

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re the best.”

“You need to take a shower.”

Eddie laughed and pulled away, “And here I was thinking we were having a nice moment.”

“We were, but you still need to take a shower. Go on now. There’s some clean clothes in the purple laundry basket. I didn’t fold them because I thought touching your underwear might be crossing a line.”

“Be careful, you know how I feel about you bossing me around.” Eddie stated.

Colette was unable to flush any more red, “Go, I’m gonna heat up some soup and put some clean sheets on your bed.”

Eddie walked obediently to the bathroom, when he had turned the water on he heard Colette through the wall.

“Hey!! There’s only sixteen Letters to Penthouse under here!”

“Check by the nightstand,” he yelled through the wall.

“Oh… found it!”

When Eddie made his way back to kitchen, he found Colette pouring steaming hot soup into a bowl. When he sat down at the small formica table, clear of its usual clutter and wiped down, she placed the bowl in front of him. He glanced from the contents of the bowl back to her face. She was excited for him to try the food she had worked on all day, he could see it in her expression.

“Why is it green?”

Colette scoffed, “Because it has seasoning other than salt.”

“Is the seasoning arsenic?”

“You are such an ass, no it has thyme.”

Eddie looked puzzled, “What does how long it took to make have to do with it being green?“

“Oh my god!” She leaned across the small table and spooned some soup into her mouth. “Mmm..Tasty… See? Not poisoned.”

He swiftly grabs the spoon from her, still giving her a shifty look as he prepares to take a bite.

She scrunches her nose in distaste, “No wonder you’re sick.”

His eyes close involuntarily as the hot soup slides down his sore throat. “Wait… Is this what soup is supposed to taste like?”

“If Campbells has been your standard, then yes.”

He was all but shoveling the soup into his mouth, as she got up to wash the pot and put away the Tupperware container.

“Wait! I’m not done!”

Colette laughed, “Don’t you want to save some room for cake?” She opened the cake carrier to reveal a cake straight off the cover of Country Living. She placed a large piece of pound cake soft and moist in the middle and a flaky crust on top. Unable to stop her eyes from rolling as watched him take a bite. The look on his face was bordering on pornographic, she was pleased.

Later after everything was put away she followed him to his bedroom. He immediately climbed into bed and reveled in the feeling of fresh sheets around him.

“Okay, I’m not ungrateful or anything but you know you didn’t have to do all this right?” Eddie asked as

“I know, it’s just… my mom always does this for me when I’m sick.”

“Oh, you wanna be my mommy…” He teased, waggling his eyebrows.

“No, obviously not. I just… I care about you.” He smirked at her ready to take a jab before she interrupted. “Shut-up! I care about you, and I like doing things for people I care about. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

Her sincerity made him a little uncomfortable in the way new things always do. He wasn’t used to anyone doing something kind for him, aside from Wayne. But even then, his uncle never explained his motive. Whether it be love or obligation, that was for Eddie to figure out for himself. He was having a hard time forming words, only able to find one. “Why?”

Colette smiled and let out a small laugh before stating simply, “You make me.”

Eddie had no quick remark like he usually did. He didn’t know how to respond at all, so he didn’t. He only nodded, with a sheepish smile creeping up his cheeks.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?”

“Will you lay down with me for a while?” He asked tentatively.

When he asked like that, there was no way she could say no, germs or no germs. She nodded, kicking off her shoes before climbing in next to him. There was no space between the two of them as Eddie tucked his head below her chin resting on her breasts. Wrapped in each other’s arms, there were no more words to be said.

After she was sure he was asleep, Colette climbed out of bed, grabbed her things and Eddie’s paper and drove home. She came down with the flu the following Wednesday.

Taglist: @mystars123, @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice, @babeyglo

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #strangers to lovers #friends to lovers #eddie munson x plus size reader #pervy eddie #slow burn

90 notes · View notes