#so odds are good this dude was wanting everyone else to meet a Christ that absolutely would not recognize him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojitiddies · 4 years ago

Text

✰ [GHOST] BUSTING MAKES ME FEEL GOOD

pairing ⋆ connie springer x fem!reader

synopsis ⋆ you don’t know who’s crazier. your ghost hunting boyfriend or you for even dating him.

warnings ⋆ paranormal encounters, slight ghost coercion, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie

ꔵ there was no doubt about it, your boyfriend connie was an oddball. like tin hat wearing, crazy conspiracist, dark reddit forum odd. his friends often asked him how he’d bagged a chick like you in the first place and honestly you were curious too. you’d met him at a halloween party your best friend mikasa had thrown. one wild night and two awkward dates later you both became that sickeningly sweet couple that everyone hated to love.

at this point in your relationship you had grown used to connie’s random 3AM messages about some spooky forum he’d found or him sending random true crime articles he wanted you to read. he and his roomates jean and sasha all ran a somewhat popular youtube channel — they called themselves “the phantom philosophers” — where they covered different cryptid and ghost stories sent to them by viewers. they also went on numerous ghost hunts to try and speak or communicate with ghosts. you were always curious about your boyfriend’s odd way of life and even appeared on one of his streams once — his subscribers couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend. so, when connie asked you if you wanted to come along with him, jean, and sasha for a ghost hunt you jumped at the opportunity.

that’s exactly how you found yourself in front of an abandoned church while your boyfriend and his friends began setting up their equipment. tonight they were looking for the ghost of a pastor who secretly ran his own brothel beneath the church. one of the women had turned on him and murdered him while they were having sex. the story seemed completely made up, but connie assured you it was legit.

you watched as connie started setting up his body camera and clipping it to his jacket. “so...anything i can help with?” you asked, rocking back on the heels of your sneakers. connie looked up at you as if he’d forgotten you were there. “huh? oh, no babe you’re fine. just stand there looking pretty.” he replied sweetly. you forced a smile towards him, letting it falter when he went back to messing with his equipment. you had only agreed to this because you wanted to spend time with him, but this entire trip he’d been so distracted. you were so used to having his attention all the time, it was starting to take you out of the mood.

you decided to go find out what sasha was doing. she had a boyfriend too, niccolo. he was really nice and an amazing cook. earlier you’d asked her why he didn’t come with you all, to which she told you that niccolo was secretly a huge fraidy cat. when you approached her she was sitting in the trunk of jean’s pick up. she seemed to be really focused on...some sort of device? “what’s that?” you queried, sitting next to her. sasha beamed and shoved it into your lap. “this, my friend, is a modernized proton pack like the ghostbusters use! i’ve been engineering this baby for a couple months now and this is gonna be its first field run!” she squeals as she begins to point out all the functions and uses of the device. it looked sort of like a portable cd player.

while sasha babbled on about her “precious baby” jean and connie approached you both, equipment and cameras ready. “here you are ____.” jean presented you with a headlamp and a frequency tuner. “now first rule of ghost hunting, do not be on your own. you’re always gonna want a buddy. i’m assuming connie will fill that role?” he asked, looking between the two of you. you were still annoyed with him but you nodded anyway. you’d bring it up when the two of you were alone. “alright then. sasha you’re with me. and don’t even think about trying to spook me this time, i took self defense lessons and i’ll definitely clock you this time.” he scolded, to which sasha responded by rolling her eyes. “oh please, it was just a joke pony boy.” she taunted. jean shot her a glare. “keep it up.” he warned before turning back to you.

“second rule, do not under any circumstances curse a ghost. not only will that anger the ghost and make it mad at you, it will also get mad at everyone else and we don’t want any part of your beef. so keep it to yourself.” it was your turn to roll your eyes. “jean you don’t need to mansplain ghost hunting to me, i’m not stupid. plus i watch you guys’ channel all the time.” you say, sliding off the truck and situating the headlamp on. “i’m ready to get to some ghostbustin!” sasha hops up and high fives you. connie laughs and wraps his arm around your waist. “ah don’t worry jean, i’ll be with her the whole time.” jean stares blankly between the three of you before shaking his head.

“whatever. connie go ahead and start your body cam. it’s time to head in.” connie chuckles at jean’s annoyance and switches on the camera, a small red light peeps out to signal it’s recording. jean has one on as well, tapping his slightly to test it out. “alright gang, buckle up. i’m trying to meet a horny ghost.” he said with a grin, beginning his march into the church, the three of you following close behind.

ꔵ inside the church it was dusty and reeked of mildew. you pinched your nose as you and the others switched on your headlights. “jesus christ, it fucking stinks.” connie remarks. sasha elbows him in the rib. “dude we’re in a haunted church, you can’t take the lord’s name in vain.” she scolds him before crossing her shoulders in silent prayer. you giggle as connie rolls his eyes at sasha’s ridiculous antics. a strong gust of wind blows through the church, causing the front entrance to slam shut. you shriek, grabbing ahold of connie’s arm while sasha laughs at your frightened behavior. “don’t worry ____, ‘s just the wind.” connie reassures you, rubbing your shoulder.

“alright guys enough fucking around. it’s time to split up and cover more ground.” jean says, taking charge. “sasha, you and i are gonna explore the chapel and the pastor’s office. connie and ____, you both are going down to the abandoned brothel in the basement.” he instructs. connie groans and folds his arms. “seriously? that’s probably where his ghost is hiding.” connie complains. you tense up at that. it was only your first ghost hunt and they were sending you right into the fire. “that’s the point dumbass? sasha and i will be up here gathering frequencies and seeing if we can find any phantom residue. if you two can get in contact with the pastor, we can probably record his frequencies from up here to listen back later.” he explains.

sasha pulls some weird tool from her fanny pack, holding it up. “this is mission is perfect for using my tuning fork! i’ve been wanting to try this for ages.” she squeals, her voice echoing through the church. “damn sasha, lower your voice.” jean mutters, to which she responds with another giggle mumbling out a quiet “sorry”. jean looks back to the two of you. “well we have our assignments, lets get this show on the road my fellow philosophers.” jean salutes you both and opens the doors to the chapel, sasha waves and follows after him before shutting the door behind them. “jerk.” connie mutters under his breath. you squeeze his hand and smile up at him.

“c’mon connie, i wanna see my boyfriend bust some ghosts.” you say, hoping to cheer him up a little. connie nodded, barely acknowledging your attempt before starting to head off towards the doors leading to the basement. “alright babe, stick close. i have no idea what’s down here.” he instructed. you hummed in disinterest and began to follow him in his descent. amazing! astonishing even! you were practically throwing yourself at him, yet your boyfriend was still more interested in some stinky old pastor ghost. as you traveled deeper downstairs, the air around you began to get warmer like a stuffy room. by the time you’d gotten down to the basement there was a humid temperature surrounding you.

“is it to supposed to feel so warm down here?” you asked, taking connie’s hand to be as close as possible to him. connie whipped his head around the basement floor shining his headlamp on all the different doors. “you would think it’d be cold with all this concrete, it’s weird.” he finally answered, switching on his frequency tuner. you followed his movements and did the same. “good weird or bad weird?” you asked again, growing a bit concerned. connie shrugged before making his way towards one of the doors, his frequency tuner picking up. you glared at him, having had enough of his nonchalant attitude.

seduce him.

you blinked as the thought came from seemingly nowhere. you shook your head, deciding to ignore it. you watched connie peak into the room that was making his frequency tuner go off the wire, letting out a gasp. “____! you’ve gotta come see this!” he exclaims, grinning back at you before making his way inside. you follow after him, curious to see what surprised him so much that he actually acknowledged your existence. when you stepped inside you were surprised to find the room...spotless? there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. the decorative rugs and tapestries that hung on the walls created an erotic atmosphere. the large bed looked clean and comfortable as well, an oil lamp sitting on the bedside. “i thought this church was abandoned, who’s doing the upkeep?” you observed, still taken aback by the surprisingly clean and crisp room. connie pressed his hand down on the bed, feeling it out. “no idea. even the mattress and blankets feel fresh.” he marveled.

seduce him and gain his favors!

this time the thought echoed louder through your head, making you feel a bit lightheaded. your knees buckled causing you to drop down to the floor. connie whipped his head around in shock, instantly rushing to see if you were alright. “you okay baby?” he asked, concern lacing his words. you nodded and took his hand to help you stand back up. almost as instantly as you were back on your feet you felt the pressure in your head drop to your chest and then to your arousal. you let out a small whimper at the sudden wave of pleasure that came out of nowhere. connie pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, his touch felt like lightning.

“are you sure you’re okay? maybe we should — “ the door to the bedroom slammed shut behind you, but you didn’t really care. all you could think about was satisfying the sudden hunger that had come over you. connie jiggled the doorknob trying to get the door back open, curses spilling out of his lips. you sauntered up behind him, snaking your arms around his waist, swirling them up to lay your hands on his pecs. “wha — ____?” he turned his head to his shoulder, trying to get a view of you. you giggled and kissed his shoulder. “awh baby, we can stay in here and get comfy.” you whine, pressing yourself against him. connie tensed up in your embrace, caught off guard by your sudden switch in attitude. the oil lamp beside the bed flickered on, casting the room in a warm dim orange glow. connie grabbed your hands and snatched them off his chest. he spun around to face you, cupping your face in his hands.

“____, hey get ahold of yourself!” he tried snapping you out of it, his fingers popping between your eyes. you leaned up and kissed him under his chin. “i want you to get ahold of me.” you murmured, grabbing his wrists to place his hands on your waist. you batted your eyelashes at him with those puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. connie gulped, his hand hands instinctively squeezing around your waist. “y-you’re not yourself, this isn’t right.” he muttered under his breath, more so talking to himself.

you snaked your arms up and around his shoulders walking back into the bed, flipping around to push him into the bed. “you made me very upset, ignoring me all night for your dumb ghost hunt.” you said, planting yourself in his lap, running your thumb along his lips. “how are you going to make it up to me?” connie frowns furrowing his brows. you don’t even wait for him to answer before letting your head fall to the side, kissing over the expanse of his neck.

connie shivered, falling prey to your advances. you snatched off both your headlamps in a playful demeanor while your other hand trailed down to the seat of his pants, letting your fingers splay out across his crotch. “____…w-wait a moment.” he breathed, letting out a slight moan when you squeezed your hand around his clothed length. you giggled softly, slithering from his thigh to between his legs. you nudged his crotch with your nose, looking back at up at him. his face was flushed and his eyes were glazed over with lust. that was all the indication you needed to begin to undoing his jeans.

your mind was clouded with thoughts of your boyfriend fucking your mouth and praising you with all the attention you’d yearned for. you pulled down his pants and boxers, licking your lips at his erect cock, leaking with precum. taking your thumb to his tip, you gently began to spread around the sticky substance. your tongue darted out to kitten lick the little mess you made, leaving connie hissing and squirming. “you’re such a tease.” he grunted. you grinned up at him knowingly before tilting your head to kiss along the length of his shaft.

connie desperately bucked his hips slightly as your kisses became wet and suctioning. done teasing him, you eagerly wrapped your lips around him sucking his tip before bobbing your head further. your tongue swirled around his shaft expertly, causing him to groan and buck his hips. you moan as his cock travels further down your throat, the vibrations of your voice stimulating him further.

“fuck baby…keep sucking me in just like that.” he huffs out, trying to keep his moans from pitching. his hands nestle in your hair, bringing your head down further. you relaxed your jaw as he continued to fuck your mouth, saliva collecting and dripping down your chin. connie bucked his hips into your mouth with fervor, you could tell he was close. “your throat feels so fucking good around me, keep swallowing me down just like that.” he praised, letting his head fall back against his shoulders.

he takes another deep thrust before you feel him spill his thick warm release down your throat. his cock twitches on your tongue as you slowly drag his length from your mouth. connie sits breathless on the bed, panting from the climax he’d just had, but you weren’t finished. you rose back up to your feet and stripped off your jeans and panties before crawling on top of him. with your hands slowly lifting your shirt over your head, you ground your wet cunt against the underside of his length.

connie stared up at you, his daze apparent on his face. “my turn.” you whisper, kissing the side of his mouth. you raised your hips slightly positioning his cock at your entrance before sinking down. you whimpered as you felt him filling you up all at once. connie took ahold of your hips, hissing as you clenched around him. “shit…your pussy loves sucking me in.” he groaned, bucking his hips again.

you whine, rocking your hips back against him. “it’s because i wanna feel you, right here.” you move your hand to your lower stomach, where you wanted to feel connie push against. connie smirked, lifting his knees up on and raising you up to hover over him slightly. “i can do that for you baby.” he growled into your ear before rapidly thrusting his cock into you. you grabbed ahold of his shoulders as he bucked into you, trying to keep your balance.

connie kept his word, fucking you balls deep with no mercy. you were so overwhelmed by pleasure you didn’t realize how loud you’d become. the oil lamp flickered as connie swiftly switched positions so you were on your back. he pushed your thighs back exposing your wet cunt that gaped for connie’s cock. he smirked and spit against you clit rising a whine from your throat. he chuckled cruelly before burying his cock back inside of you, his thrusts causing you to lurch up against the bed.

you clawed your hands over his his shoulder blades as he fucked you deep. “you feel so good, don’t stop!” you moan, arching you back as he hits your sweet spot. connie groaned from the way. you squeezed around him before leaning down to kiss you, his tongue swirling around yours. the sinful noises that came from between you both, echoing through the room. connie moved his lips across your jaw, praising you as he kissed and sucked your skin. you dazedly let your head fall to the side.

then you saw him.

a young man dressed in preachers robes, watching you both intently. you cried out clinging to connie — connie assumed it was a moan and continued to fuck into you. the preacher grinned at you and faded from your eyesight. just then connie let out a grunt. “shit baby, i’m gonna cum.” you were too dumbfounded to respond but it didn’t matter. connie had already grabbed your waist, pulling you down on his cock faster. the movement shocked you out of your mindstate, making you forget about the whole “pervy preacher ghost in the corner of the room” thing.

“fuck connie keep going!” you whine, your hand coming to grab your tits to keep them from bouncing out of your bra. connie fucked you like that until your legs became jelly and you creamed all over his cock. just as you were catching your breath connie came inside you, spilling his thick seed all over your walls. connie collapsed into your chest taking deep breaths.

“shit.” he breathed out, his hand squeezing your waist. “you okay baby?” he asked, tilting his head back to look at you. you smiled and nodded, massaging his short silvery hair. connie seemed to have a thought of realization and frowned. “i’m sorry ____. i should’ve done more to make you feel like i wanted you here. i must’ve looked like such an asshole. i was so focused on busting ghosts, i forgot the most important thing i wanted out of this was to introduce my girl to my uh…hobbies.” the sincerity in his eyes had you swooning. you cupped his cheek and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “you’re forgiven.”. you say, before sitting up.

not a good idea.

your head was spinning. you moaned and grabbed your head, massaging it. “____? baby, what’s wrong?” connie asked worriedly, sitting up as well. then just as quick as the dizziness came, it went. you blinked. “i have no idea. maybe you just fucked me too hard, hm?” you teased, poking his shoulder. connie pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. you couldn’t read his expression, tho it looked like a mix between a shock, confusion, and disappointment. in short, nothing good. “what?” you ask.

connie shook his head. “this is gonna sound crazy, but do you think you were possessed?” he blurted out. you bit your lip, remembering the preacher and the strange echoing voice in your head. “ah…maybe? but i wanted that, it was me no one was controlling me. it just felt more like someone was egging me on.” you explained. even coming from your own mouth it sounded delusional. “oh my god connie, did i get possessed?!” you squealed, snapping your legs shut.

connie laughed and leaned forward, pulling you into his embrace. “no it wasn’t possession baby. just a bit of paranormal influence, like in the poltergeist.” this did not reassure you whatsoever, but connie was already sliding off the bed. “c’mon let’s go back upstairs and see what jean and sasha found. don’t tell them what happened okay? jean’ll kill the shit out of me.” he chuckled, kissing the top of your forehead. you did once over of the room again to make sure there was no ghost priest hiding in here before starting to get dressed again.

ꔵ “finally you two are here! you’ve gotta come see this!” sasha exclaimed as she saw the both of you approaching. sasha and jean had hooked up some sort of computer and were huddled around it. “what is it you?” connie questioned, taking your hand and hurrying you towards them. you smiled, relieved that he had meant what he said and was starting to finally include you. “it seems like whatever you guys did down there worked! we recorded these weird frequencies and we think we might have caught the pastors attention.” jean said, clicking around the screen.

you and connie exchanged wide eyed glances. “uh…what did you hear?” you asked, instinctively squeezing connie’s hand. jean and sasha shrugged. “nothing, we couldn’t hear it until it finished recording.” jean grinned up at the two of you. “but you arrived at perfect timing, now we can play it back together.” jean pulled up the sound byte. “jean i don’t think — “ connie started to protest, but jean had already pressed the space bar.

the empty church echoed with the sounds of your lewd moans and connie’s sensual praises. the heat rushed into your cheeks as you looked down in shame. you didn’t wanna see anyone else’s facial expressions. after what seemed like forever sasha’s hand darted out to pause it. safe to assume you were never invited to go ghost hunting with you boyfriend and his friends again. however you and connie did some extensive research afterwards.

connie’s body cam had mysteriously became static when he walked into the bedroom, so there was no footage of the ghost — you were honestly just relieved the two of you didn’t film a sex tape. however, apparently the ghost of the priest wandered the church, waiting to lure couples into the brothel rooms so that he could gain pleasure from seeing his brothel still be put to use. seven other couples who had visited the church also reported a strange occurrence where they ended up having sex in the brothel as well. you wondered how jean had missed that key part of research about the ghost.

“we may not have busted that ghost, but he sure made us bust.” connie cackled, nudging you. you gave him a pointed look. “you make awful jokes.” you told him, nudging him back. though the experience was a bit of a mindfucker, it truly brought you and connie closer together.

author’s note: hello again! this took me a really long time to write and yet it still feels really rushed :( i tried to do what i could in the edits but this probably isn’t my favorite. i would appreciate feedback if anyone has any though and if you did actually like it, thank you! i promise i can do way better though lmao </3

#connie x reader #connie smut #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer smut #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot #snk smut #snk #x reader

79 notes · View notes

cherryrogers · 5 years ago

Text

➸ call me baby {2/3}

SUMMER NIGHTS

pairing: bucky barnes x reader | biker au

warnings: swearing, violence, implied smut, mainly fluff.

word count: 7.8k

synopsis: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker. And when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either. That was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

series masterlist

a/n: ok so this has turned into a three part series!! the next part will likely be a bit shorter, but i wanted to wrap up the story properly and i felt that needed it’s own separate part. i’m gonna post a masterlist for this series tomorrow, and i might write some drabbles for this fic to add to it once it’s finished if anyone has any hc/drabble ideas they’d like to send in?? i need to stop rambling so much lmao,,, please enjoy!!

Sunsets; consisting of an array of warm tones, reds and oranges bleeding into each other, casting a dim, natural light over cities before the artificial yellow beaming of street lamps lit up the world instead. A comforting reminder that every bad day eventually ends, but a sad reminder that every perfect day ends too.

In your case, they’d been unsettling ends to a continuous string of perfect days. And following those, a bright sunrise poured light through your windows every morning, indicating that you were one day closer to the end of the summer.

Currently, the deep, warm sky was the background of a blissful ride through the city. Perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle, your arms enveloping his waist, fingertips grazing lightly over his stomach through his shirt. No destination in particular; just an excuse to be close to one another.

Since the night at Wanda’s bar, the night where you simply let yourself begin to feel for Bucky, things had been different. Better.

Rides around the city were a frequent occurrence, usually happening when Bucky offered to take you home on his bike, but taking the long way back to enjoy the view and the feeling of you next to him for a short while longer.

It was therapeutic, tranquil. Well, until your road rage got the best of you.

“Dude, it’s a green light,” You shouted at the car in front you. “Green means go, didn’t you learn that in kindergarten?”

“Christ, you realise you’re yellin’ straight in my ear, right?”

“Sorry, Buck,” You patted his chest apologetically, before proceeding to yell once again. “Not my fault some people don’t know how traffic lights work!”

It was entertaining to Bucky, anyway. Even if it did earn you some middle fingers, which you gladly returned.

As the sky began to lose its vibrant hue, the two of you headed back in the direction of your place, definitely your least favourite part of the ride, but you savoured it nevertheless.

You were friends. Teasing each other incessantly because you just bounced off one another like that, but you often found yourself gravitating towards him. During meals at the clubhouse, you sat in the same spot as you did when you entered the place for the first time; right next to Bucky. While that likely meant for Steve and Peggy that they were in for a painful time, consisting of them slowly losing their patience with you both, they didn’t mind. Well, they did a little.

It’d been almost two hours since you started your game of Monoply. You weren’t sure if you were anywhere near the end of the game, but everyone was still pretty into it. Clint and Sam were paired up as a team, Steve and Peggy shared the little top-hat token, you and Bucky had the wheelbarrow, and Natasha had the car. She claimed she worked better when was on her own team, which was proved to be true by the fact she was winning.

It was Steve and Peggy’s turn to roll, and their top hat was moved to land on the ‘Boardwalk’ space.

“Oh, that’s our space!” You chirped. “Pay up, my dudes.”

“_____, you don’t have a house on that space.”

“Well, could you pass me one? I want this space.”

“You have to buy one.”

“Then I’ll buy one.”

Peggy sighed. “It’s not your turn, you can’t buy a house. Your token isn’t even on that space.”

You furrowed your brows, turning to Bucky. Maybe you should’ve read the rules before playing; you’d never actually played Monoply before. “Oh. That kinda sucks then.”

After a moment, Bucky reached over to the little bag of houses, picking one out and placing it on the Boardwalk space.

“Buck, that’s cheating.” Steve glared at his friend, who only shrugged innocently.

“She’s never played before, let her just have the damn house.”

“You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause she’s on your team, jerk.”

Bucky just shrugged again, turning to shoot you a wink as you smirked in satisfaction and placing your little house on the space, missing Steve and Peggy sharing a look of annoyance as they passed a pile of yellow bills over to you.

It was safe to say the two of you weren’t allowed to play as a team during board games anymore. Natasha always won the games anyway, so it’s not like you and him cheating made much of a difference.

You thought things were moving smoothly with Bucky. You knew that you liked him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew that — it was pretty fucking obvious at this point. But it would be a rather dumb move to escalate things even if you wanted to. The summer would be over in two months, one third of it was already gone, and you would be too by the beginning of September. Naively, you’d told yourself that you simply wouldn’t take things further. Easy enough, right?

Wrong; so very wrong. You’d proved to yourself that you seriously needed to stop acting impulsively on one fateful after a day spent at the clubhouse.

You’d been about to leave, but had decided to head off to the office where Bucky had been pretty much all evening while everyone else was out in the backyard, which was odd considering you would’ve assumed he’d be the last to not spend the night drinking beer and hanging out with friends over, well, anything else.

You knocked loudly on the door, hearing shuffling and the clicking of a computer keyboard before a quiet ‘come in’ followed. Furrowing your brows, you stepped into the room, eyes landing on the biker slumped in the chair at the desk, forcing a small smile. Did he really think your were that oblivious?

“You’ve been hiding in here all night,” You approaches the desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is there something you wanna share with the class?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered between the computer screen and your face, before he shook his head. “Just dealin’ with club stuff.”

“Hm, and what counts as club stuff?”

“It’s stuff you don’t need to worry about.”

You scoffed. “Huh, what happened to not doing stuff you shouldn’t be? Not getting into trouble?”

“Do you ever mind your own business?” Bucky questioned bluntly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

Mirroring his expression, you leaned against the desk next to him. “Not when someone is clearly trying to hide something.

The biker bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a few moments. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. Sure, he’d only known you around a month now, but you were... his friend. A good friend. He just didn’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. Steve wasn’t lying when he said that the club tried to stay out of trouble, because they definitely didn’t go out of their way to get into shitty situations. But if they needed to get their hands a little dirty to deal with clubs that thrived off trouble, then so be it.

Eventually, Bucky sighed, moving a hand back over his computer mouse and letting the screen light up again. Crinkling your brows, your eyes scanned the screen. He’d been looking at a map of Brooklyn, and the little red location pointer was pinned onto a warehouse downtown.

“Peter Parker, he’s just a kid. Parents died when he was barely five, lost his uncle a few years back. He lives at home with his aunt in Queens since he’s still in school, but we sorta took him in a while ago. The night after his uncle died, Tony found him on the sitting on the curb a few blocks away from here, completely distraught. He managed to talk him down though, and found out he was pretty good with engineering. We said if he wanted, he could help out with fixing bikes and cars at the clubhouse, and he comes by every so often since then.”

You didn’t know Tony that well; he was a little older than the rest of the club, and he lived outside of the clubhouse with his wife, Pepper. You hadn’t met Peter at all, but you trusted Bucky when he said that he was a good kid.

“Last week, he showed up to the here with a busted lip and broken nose. Said that Rumlow and his guys had jumped him, and that they wanted him to do a job for them — collect a weapon shipment from this warehouse.” Bucky nodded towards the screen.

At the mention of Brock Rumlow, you felt your jaw tighten. Thankfully, he’d kept his distance from Wanda’s bar since your last encounter with him, but you were still pissed off about the show he put on there, and there was nothing you regretted more than not jumping over the bar top and kicking him in the balls. Now he’d resorted to threatening a kid and making him do his dirty work?

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Peter’s meant to meet the guy delivering the weapons next week, so I’m gonna take Nat, Sam and Tony down to the warehouse and deal with any of Rumlow’s guys that are nearby.”

Upon seeing your face light up, Bucky chuckled, standing from his seat. “And no, you can’t come.”

“Bucky, I’m not a woman of many talents, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handing people’s asses to them.” You lifted your chin confidently.

“Baby—”

You held a finger up to shush him. “Okay, I know I said that I liked when you call me that, but not now. Brock is the guy that grabbed me, Buck. And the guy that punched you in the face!”

“I know, and we’ll deal with him,” A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Besides, I thought you weren’t part of any club. Can’t do club stuff if you’re not a member.”

“Well, not that I want to... but how would one go about becoming part of your little gang?” You weren’t lying; you definitely did not want to be a damn biker, but you did want the chance to boot Brock Rumlow and his group of dipshits in the face.

“You could become an old lady.” The biker cocked a brow, and you chuckled heartily.

Not that you were up to date with the biker lingo, but you could take a good guess at what being an old lady meant. “Hm, if only there was someone that wanted me to be their old lady.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky glanced over your features, waiting for you to laugh and brush the comment off as a joke since the majority of your vocabulary was sarcasm, but you didn’t. The corners of your lips curled up slightly, not teasingly, but softly...

...Until you became painfully aware of the silence that’d fell upon the two of you, and let out a sigh to break it. It was already late when you were supposed to leave, anyway. Now, the dim moonlight was casting shadows outside of the office window, the only source of bright light being the yellow streams from lampposts dotted up and down the quiet street.

“Well, I should get going.” You reluctantly stepped back from him.

“You don’t have to go, you know. Peggy stays overnight when it’s late.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, cause Peggy has a boyfriend that she can share a bed with.”

“Hey, I’ve got a double bed.” Bucky teased, and you’d be lying if you said sleeping next to him in his bed didn’t make you feel a certain type of way.

Though, you definitely wouldn’t let him know that. “You’re stupid, Bucky.”

He shrugged, following you as you continued for the door of the office. “I mean, even if I had a single—”

“I would still not be getting in your bed,” You deadpanned, finishing his sentence for him and promoting the stupidly hot little smirk of his to appear again. “Okay, now I’m leaving. Goodbye, Bucky.”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you will not,” You breathed out a laugh. “There are two bottles of beer on that desk and death isn’t on the cards for me tonight — can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A look of realisation washed over his face, a pink colour tinting his cheeks. Was Bucky Barnes blushing? That was certainly a sight, and what a sight it was.

“S’alright — I don’t wanna get rid of you,” The biker stepped in front of you, dangerously close as your back hit the door. “Not yet, anyway.”

You couldn’t lie; Bucky was hot, he was beautiful. Even when he was being a sarcastic ass, but he was just as much one of them as you were. God dammit, as much as you wanted to slap yourself for letting your insides melt for a guy you didn’t know all that well, you knew that if you didn’t fucking kiss him right this second that you’d regret the hell out of it later.

And so, you did.

You grabbed the collar of the leather jacket he never failed to make an appearance without— or perhaps he just had a lot of leather jackets, though leather jackets didn’t necessarily need washed so it was probably the same jacket— not the time, _____. Carrying on, you swiftly captured his lips with yours, relief washing through you as you felt him react almost immediately. Almost, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to do that.

The kiss was gentle; gentle enough so that you could simply savour the feeling of his lips on yours, the taste a mixture of smoke and minty chewing gum. It was slow, but quick. Bucky didn’t even have the chance to move his hands to your waist before you pulled back, raising your hand to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“You still planning on getting rid of me?” You grinned, amused by the biker’s dumbfounded expression.

He laughed breathily after a couple of seconds, nose nudging yours playfully. “Not if you keep kissin’ me like that, baby.”

“Hm, maybe you’ll just get lucky again.” You pushed at his chest softly, letting you step forward and open the door to leave the office.

Bucky let out a scoff. “You’re really just gonna leave? After that?”

You shrugged, cocking a brow. “I mean, I could stay if you let me come with you next week...”

“No chance,” He smiled smugly. “Shut the door on your way out, will you?”

“You know what? I’m never kissing you again.”

“Whatever you say, _____.”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, turning to make your way out of the room. “And I’m leaving the door open!”

“Hm, get home safe.” He called back.

Trying to bite back a smile as you looked over your shoulder back at him, you mouthed a final goodbye and left the office, a rush of feelings suddenly emerging as you stepped out of the clubhouse and onto the street.

You’d just kissed Bucky. You had kissed Bucky. And he had kissed you back. Well, shit.

Did you need to talk about it with him? What it meant for the two of you? Did he just kiss you for the fun of it or did he actually have feelings for you? Ugh. You’d always hated serious conversations, because apparently using sarcasm to cover up actually talking about your feelings was inappropriate and unhealthy. That’s what Peggy always told you, anyway. Perhaps there was no conversation to be had. Bucky could be your summer fling; a couple of months of fun before you were off on your travels again. The only reason he kissed you back might’ve been because he knew you were leaving eventually, which meant he didn’t have to commit to you.

Whatever — you were simply going to go with the flow. If you and Bucky ended up becoming... something more, that would be great. If not, you’d be slightly disappointed, but you’d be out of Brooklyn soon enough to forget about it.

And now, as you tightened your arms around the biker’s waist, you just enjoyed the moment. As someone that rarely stayed in a city for longer than a couple of weeks, enjoying the moment was all that you could do.

* * *

“Pegs, I am working. You can’t just call and ask me this kinda stuff during a shift.”

“I certainly can, especially when I had to hear it first from Steve.”

A strained sign fell from your lips as you leaned against bar, checking that no customers were approaching the counter before you turned your back. “I was gonna tell you, I promise. I didn’t think Bucky was gonna kiss and tell as soon as it happened.”

“I don’t think it was exactly a kiss and tell situation,” Peggy chuckled over the phone. “Steve said it was written all over his face after you’d left the clubhouse.”

Feeling heat rushing to your own face, you lowered your head, hoping no one was observing the bartender getting all embarrassed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell Peggy about your kiss with Bucky. She was your best friend, of course you wanted to tell her. But considering that you weren’t really sure what direction you and him were going in, you thought perhaps that it’d be better to just keep it between you and him, like a Danny and Sandy situation — if everyone had known about their summer affair, it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Can you... tell him to not question Bucky about it?” You asked. “You told me he’d never been in a proper relationship before and neither have I. I think we need to work out... whatever we are ourselves, you know?”

Since the kiss, you hadn’t had the chance to even see Bucky that much. Wanda had been asking you to work more shifts at the bar because one of your co-workers was going on vacation for two weeks, which you didn’t mind doing. Other than hanging out with Peggy and seeing everyone at the clubhouse, it’s not like you had much better to do. Plus, it meant more money to put towards your travels at the end of the summer. At the rate you were earning and including what you already had saved up, you’d be getting your dream London trip a lot sooner than you’d thought.

“Of course, I understand,” She replied. “_____, I— I don’t want to play devil’s advocate, but have you thought about what’ll happen when summer ends? When you leave Brooklyn?”

The thought had crossed your mind, yes, though it was also pushed to the back of your mind whenever it popped up. In all honesty, you had zero clue what’d happen when you left Brooklyn again.

“Nope,” You said defeatedly. “Do I need to think about that now? What if we don’t even last until the end of summer?”

From the pause in conversation, you could just tell that Peggy knew you were bullshitting. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you did not just say that. You don’t just kiss guys, _____. And Bucky doesn’t get all flushed from kissing any old woman. It’s obvious you two click easily, and I honestly don’t think it’s something that can just end once you leave.”

The girl was right, she was completely right, but you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do. It’s not like you could stay in Brooklyn forever and abandon your travels. That wasn’t who you were; staying wouldn’t be you being true to yourself. You couldn’t throw that away for a man you barely knew, a guy that possibly may not want you anymore after the summer ends, though there was a large part of you that didn’t believe that.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Peggy, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the kiss earlier, everything is just... it’s just confusing,” You rambled, wanting to steer the conversation away from your love life for the night. It was nearing nine o’clock, and with an hour still left of your shift, you didn’t want to waste your energy on a conversation that could be had another time. “Anyway, how is everyone? Has Steve heard from Bucky?”

This night was also the night that poor Peter Parker was meant to be carrying out Rumlow’s dirty work, and Bucky was going to get his club to back off. Well, hopefully. He’d already been punched in the face by that bastard once, you hoped that he’d be able to avoid having that happen again. You’d texted him earlier, telling him to let you know when he was home and safe because you would, in fact, worry about him. He teased you for your concern, but you frankly didn’t care. The fact they were having Peter pick up a weapon shipment implied that they wanted to use them to hurt people, and opposing biker clubs seemed like the type of people they’d target.

“They’ve been out an hour, so they should hopefully be back soon,” Peggy assured you. “We haven’t heard from them yet, though.”

“Right,” You exhaled, a little upset that there was no update from them. The sound of the door opening a few metered behind you reminded you that you were still at work, and that you should probably say goodbye to Peggy for the time being. “I’ve gotta go, Pegs — duty calls. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, darling. Be careful going home.”

With a quiet ‘will do’, you quickly ended the phone call and shoved the device into your jean pocket, turning around to identify the source of the footsteps getting closer to the bar. Well, fuck.

An ugly smirk, scruffy jaw, messy hair — Brock fucking Rumlow was standing right in front of you.

You could’ve laughed, in fact, you did laugh. He was back, even after the embarrassing show he put on last time he was at the bar, and this time, he was alone.

Putting back the glass you’d pulled out from under the bar on instinct, because there was no way you were serving him, you cocked a brow, waiting for him to make the first move.

He slid onto the stool in front of you, the same place he’d sat during his last visit. There was a short silence as his dark eyes roamed your face, before he exhaled heavily. “You not gonna ask for my order?”

“No.” You answered instantly. It looked like he was expecting the cold shoulder from the way he chuckled at your answer.

You wanted to ask what he was doing here, why he wasn’t down at that random warehouse making sure the teenager he manipulated was doing the job correctly, but you didn’t imagine it was a good idea to let on that Bucky was telling you about that sort of stuff. He’d probably try to hurt him as opposed to you, and you didn’t want to put Bucky in any unnecessary shit.

“You know, it’s against the law to refuse service to an innocent customer.”

Clearly, he didn’t know the law at all, but you found it awfully ironic that he was claiming that you were in the wrong side of the law. You cocked your brow higher. “And you’re always abiding by the law, Brock?”

“What makes you think I’m not?” The man narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged nonchalantly. “Last time you were here, you were the one assaulting an innocent customer, and me.”

Brock scoffed. “You’re calling Barnes innocent?”

You only stared at him, waiting for an elaboration.

“Do you know where he is right now?”

Yes — dealing with your bullshit and the rest of your gang.

“Enlighten me.”

“A dirty warehouse across town, meeting a dude that’s sellin’ him weapons. Rifles, pistols, you name it.” He leaned forward on his elbows, pursing his lips.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you met his eyes, dark and full of hope that he’d somehow miraculously turned you against Bucky -- he was going to have to try a little harder than that if he wanted to sell his lies.

“Where are the rest of you pals, Brock?”

He furrowed his brows. “Down at the warehouse, shutting down the deal.”

“And why aren’t you with them, hm? I don’t think it’s ‘cause you decided you wanted a drink over the chance to screw Bucky and his club over.”

The guy clearly thought you were oblivious, that you’d be naive enough to believe that Bucky was the one having Peter collect the weapons instead of him. Maybe he thought it’d turn you against him, and then you’d carelessly join Rumlow’s club without a second thought. Even if Bucky hadn’t told you anything, there wasn’t a thing that could come out of Rumlow’s mouth that could convince you Bucky’s club was doing anything of the sort.

Unfortunately, the comment seemed to tip the conversation in the exact way you hadn’t wanted it to.

Brock’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he sat up properly on the stool. “What’s he been tellin’ you, huh?”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Brock.” You glared at the man. There was no way you were letting him sit and annoy the shit out of you when you weren’t going to serve him.

“You see,” He laughed emptily. “If Barnes has been spillin’ things that he shouldn’t be, I need to know. Can’t have any false information spreading.”

“False information, right,” You muttered. In your defense, all you knew about his club was about them manipulating Peter. Though you could assume that wasn’t the only stupid shit they were doing, you didn’t know anything else for sure. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything, so get out of here.”

Brock tutted, rising from his seat and cracking his knuckles. “You’re a good liar, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”

“That’s not my problem,” You glowered, loving quickly around the bar to pace towards the door, opening it in an attempt to lure him out. “You need to go, or I’ll call Wanda over.”

Stalking towards you, the man shook his head. “If Barnes thinks he can tell his little girlfriend all of our business, he’s a fucking idiot,” He took a grasp on your wrist, his other hand curling into a fist. “Someone’s gotta show him what the consequences of that are.”

Anger flashed in your eyes as you struggled against his grip. “Get off me, dude. I don’t know anything.”

“Liar.” He murmured, before taking his fist and colliding it with your cheek abruptly.

A groan of pain left your lips as you stumbled back, the clutch on your wrist gone as Brock eyed you cautiously. Carefully, you brought your hand to where you’d been hit, blood quickly staining your fingertips as they grazed over the cuts on your skin from Brock’s rings. He’d hit you. That stupid, fucking son of a bitch had punched you. If there was any justifiable reason for you to kick him in the balls, this was it, and you were going to take advantage of the opportunity.

He definitely thought you were done with him for the night; you could tell by the way his chapped lips curled into a sick smile. He thought he’d won — how cute.

When your parents made you take self-defense classes ‘just as a precaution’ when you were a teenager, you thought it was unreasonable. Now, you’d never been more thankful.

Brushing your hair out of your face, your eyes flickered up to Brock, who was still staring down at you. Slowly, you moved so that your back was pressed against the closed bar door, clasping your hands around the long metal handle. The man assumed you were just catching your breath, and wasn’t ready for when you forcefully pushed your body forward, raising a booted foot and slamming it into his crotch.

A string of swear words fell from his lips as his upper body fell forward, Fuck it, you thought, striding over to his hunched over form and smashing your own fist against his cheek. He staggered back, just catching himself on the bar. Eyes wide, he raised his head to scowl at you, spitting blood from his freshly split lip onto the floor beside him.

From the other side of the bar, Wanda jogged over to the scene, an unimpressed scowl on her face. “What the hell is going on?”

The woman knew it wasn’t you causing the trouble, and there was even a smug smirk threatening to peak through her annoyed demeanor at the sight of Brock Rumlow with a split lip. She strode over to him, pulling him up harshly by the collar of his jacket.

“You’re banned from this bar. If I see you in here again, you’re getting a bullet straight through your gut, yes?” Wanda practically spat at the man, who nodded reluctantly and pulled away from her grasp. She turned to you, a small smile on her lips. “_____, you’re free to go early. Do you need...?”

Wanda eyed your cut cheek and bruised jaw, but you only shook your head. “Thanks, Wan, but I’ll just head home.”

The strawberry-blond nodded, sending a final glare towards Brock before heading back behind the bar.

Of course, your stubborn self wouldn’t let yourself leave without having the last word, causing you to approach him as he haphazardly stood from where he’d fallen. “If I ever have the displeasure of seeing you again, and you try to hurt me or anyone else, I’ll cut off your fingers and force them down your throat, you got that?”

Before you could wait for an answer, you were spinning around and heading out the double doors of the bar, ignoring the throb on the left side of your face as a satisfied smirk crept onto your lips. You’d never considered yourself to be a violent person, but when it came to assholes like Brock Rumlow, you didn’t mind getting your hands a little dirty. When you told Peggy about what happened, she’d likely scold you for even just mouthing back at him. You had zero regrets, however. You’d always wanted to experience a bar fight, and now you’d experienced one first hand.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Stretching out your aching knuckles, you swiped it from your jeans.

Back at the clubhouse safe and sound. You want me to pick you up from work in an hour?

You chuckled under your breath, typing out a response.

Can you come up now? Wanda let me off early.

Sure, I’ll be there soon. Did you do something special to get off at this time?

Pausing, you debated whether to let him know straight away about the incident. You decided against it; when he saw your face, he’d figure it out soon enough.

Something like that...

After twenty minutes of aimlessly standing outside of the bar, the familiar roar of a motorcycle engine caught your attention. As the bike came to a stop, the beaming headlights had you squinting to even make out the outline of Bucky in the dark. However, judging by the speed at which he was dismounting the bike, you were sure that the light had allowed him to see the state of you.

“Holy shit, _____,” Bucky paced over to you, hands coming to your shoulders. “What the hell happened?”

You let out a hesitant laugh. “Uh, rough shift?”

Scoffing, the biker narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, looks like it. What— are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You assured him, removing his hands from your shoulders and squeezing them comfortingly. “Trust me, you should see the other guy.”

“You were fighting?”

“Bucky,” You intervened, for now deciding against telling him that it was in fact Brock Rumlow you’d gotten on the wrong side of. It’d only result in him marching into the bar himself and starting another disturbance, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wanda pulled out her pistol again. “C’mon, can we go? My house, the clubhouse, wherever — I’ll explain when half of my face isn’t aching like hell.”

The man paused, eyeing you cautiously before a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” You patted his chest, plastering on a smile. “Now come on; I didn’t wait this long to clean you up when you got decked across the face.”

With an amused eye roll, Bucky tugged on your hand and led you to the bike. He’d never seen someone so calm after getting a punch to the face, but then again — as cliché as it was — he’d never met anyone like you before.

Half an hour later, the biker had you sat on the counter-top in one of the bathrooms at the clubhouse, standing between your legs and gently dabbing at your cut with a wet cloth. The bleeding had stopped by the time you got to the clubhouse, but it still needed cleaned up. You were holding a cool ice pack to your jaw, watching him intently as he took care of you. Might as well take the opportunity to stare at the guy, right?

“I’m gonna put some antiseptic cream on the cut, just to make sure it doesn’t get infected.” He muttered, reaching for the tub of it in the wooden cabinet above you.

“Are you getting a sense of déjà vu too?” You quirked a brow, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Hm, a little bit; I guess we both just can’t avoid trouble,” Bucky cupped your jaw as he applied the cream, chuckling when you mumbled a ‘motherfucker’ under your breath at the sting. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Well,” You sighed. “Long story short... Brock Rumlow happened.”

Pulling back, Bucky furrowed his brows and waited for you to elongate the story, but you only shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. You knew that Brock being involved would only fuel a rage that he couldn’t relieve.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a frustrated laugh falling from his lips. “Rumlow did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me at the bar? Was he still there? I would’ve went in there and—”

“I know exactly what you would’ve done; why do you think I waited until now to tell you?” Though you were smiling, Bucky was still understandably apprehensive. Pursing your lips, you grabbed one of his loosely clenched fists and held it in your lap. “I meant it when I said ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ — Brock’s face looks the same as mine and he got a boot to the balls. Plus, I think his ego was bruised enough without someone else going in there and knockin’ his lights out.”

Sighing, Bucky shook his head, unable to suppress a small grin. He never underestimated your power; anyone would be a fool to do so. When you were angry, you showed it. When someone hit you, you hit them back harder, metaphorically and literally. It wasn’t even that you had a short temper, you just didn’t put up with people’s shit, and Bucky highly admired that. “Well, I’m jealous of anyone that was there to see it — I bet it was damn hot.”

You scoffed, though seconds later you were shrugging in agreement. “It definitely was, you would’ve loved it.”

While he returned the first-aid stuff to their rightful places in the bathroom, you explained to Bucky what had gotten Brock so riled up. He wasn’t surprised that Brock tried to convince you that he was the bag guy in all of this; he’d tried to do it with Peggy too when she first started dating Steve. In his misogynistic mind, he thought that women were naive enough to be persuaded of anything that he wanted them to believe, and that by getting you on his side would mean he’d ‘won’ over Bucky. Perhaps he’d learned his lesson that night to not underestimate a woman’s power — dumbass.

Down at the warehouse, they’d managed to get Peter out of there before the person delivering the weapon shipment could arrive. There were one or two of Rumlow’s guys there keeping watch, but without him, they ran away like scared children. You teased Bucky about being a ‘big bad biker’ as he explained the night to you, but he insisted it was Natasha that had them crapping their pants; she never usually made an effort to hide the set of knives on her hip, and she apparently had a death-stare that could have anyone shaking in their boots. With him being banned from Wanda’s bar and unsuccessful with his plan of using Peter, they doubted Brock Rumlow would show his face around the area for a while. He’d only be embarrassing himself if he did.

Not long after your cut had been tended to and the pain in your jaw had subsided, you found yourself once again fighting the temptation to stay the night at the clubhouse — the temptation being a whiny biker named Bucky Barnes.

“But you’ve had a rough day,” He bargained, following after you as you made your way to the front door of the clubhouse. “It’ll save you the ride back if you stay.”

Chortling lightly, you turned around to face him. “A rough day? Buck, I gave an asshole a well-deserved kick in the balls, I’ve had a great day.”

“But what about your cheek? It might start bleeding again and—”

“Bucky,” You cut him off, biting back a smile. “Why do you really want me to stay?”

There was a short pause, heat pooling in the biker’s cheeks at the question as he raised a brow, silently asking you if he was supposed to actually answer the question. When you only quirked your own brow, he sighed, his lips curling into a fond smile. “...because I don’t like it when you leave? ‘Cause I like you a whole lot and I really wanna kiss you again?”

Slowly, you trailed a slightly bruised hand up his chest, stopping at the nape of his neck to tangle your fingers in the hair there. “You should’ve just lead with the kiss, biker.”

Before you could notice the doting grin on his lips, Bucky had looped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his chest, soft lips locking with yours tenderly. Your other arm was quick to wrap around his neck as you found yourself wanting to be impossibly closer to him. You tugged at his hair, eliciting a deep moan from his lips, and you pulled away with a satisfied smirk.

“So you’ll stay?” Bucky spoke against your lips, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you keep kissing me like that.” You imitated his words from your last kiss, to which he shook his head and clasped his hand around yours, leading you out of the hallway and up to his room.

You hoped the rest of the club were asleep, because from the thump of your body being pushed against Bucky’s bedroom door after he’d dragged you inside and shut it, you were sure that they could assume who was causing the racket at almost midnight.

Bucky’s mouth was on yours in a matter of seconds, hands cupping your jaw, carefully avoiding pressing against the side that was bruised. Meanwhile, your fingers gently traced across the hem of his t-shirt, riding it up so that the pads of your fingers came into contact with his lower stomach, ghosting over the waistband of his jeans. He stepped back momentarily, shoving his leather jacket down his arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your jacket,” You breathed. “It’s like you’re naked already.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” He teased, hands coming to trace over your own exposed stomach. “Someone’s eager.”

“You’re stupid,” You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a grin. “Coming from the guy who just said he liked me, sap.”

“Real mature,” He snickered, riding your shirt up to your chest and tugging it off when you raised your arms to aid him. His lips moved to the crook of your neck, trailing light kissed along the soft skin there. “I meant it, though. I really like you, baby.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his attached to a certain spot on your neck, your hand fisting his shirt in response. You didn’t even have to say it back; it was obvious that you felt the same way about him in pretty much every way. The way your body was reacting to his, the breathy way that his name was falling from your swollen lips, and the fact you’d kissed him the week prior was a good indicator too.

“And you said you’d never get in my bed.” Bucky smirked after helping you pull off his own shirt.

“Technically, I’m not in your bed yet.”

“Yet,” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your jaw, along the curve of your shoulder and down to the hem of your bra. “Can’t wait to have you there, moaning all pretty for me.”

Your face grew hot at his words, but his lips were on yours again too quickly for him to notice. When he eventually pulled back for air, you bit your lip in anticipation.

“Hm, let’s not wait any longer then.”

And he didn’t let you wait any longer, leaning down to kiss you with a passionate hunger as he dragged you by both of your hands to his bed. Maybe it was the way he didn’t rush, that he took time memorizing every inch of your skin with gentle lips and wandering hands. Maybe it was the sighs and moans of pleasure that he’d managed to draw from you so easily, or the way he whispered praises and sweet nothings into your ear as he positioned himself comfortably between your legs. But after the two of you had reached your highs and were left grinning like idiots and panting for breath, you realised how fucking hard you’d fallen for the damn biker who’d somehow gotten you in his bed.

* * *

Soft snores gradually drew you from your slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks before you eventually squinted your eyes open. It couldn’t have been any later than 5am; daylight was peaking through the curtains of the bedroom, but the world outside was still quiet. Quiet for New York, anyway.

Bucky had his arms tucked under his pillow, face buried into the cotton, lips parted, brown strands of hair falling in front of his face. Back muscles relaxed, shoulders raising slightly as he breathed quietly. He looked pretty like that, innocent even. Innocent in comparison to what occurred in his bed the night before.

As you idly observed him in his peaceful state, you couldn’t help but think about what Peggy had said to you earlier the prior night. She was right, as always. Especially after the night you’d just had with him, there was no way that your feelings for Bucky would just leave along with you leaving after summer. Perhaps sleeping with him was the stupidest decision you’d ever made. Perhaps it would’ve just been easier to not stay the night and pretend like you’d never kissed him in the first place. But you didn’t want that. You wanted him, even if you could only have him for the summer.

A muffled moan jerked your attention away from your thoughts and back to the man laying next to you, who was shifting as he began to wake, the muscles in his back flexing as he did so. It was a sight you could get used to for sure.

Soon enough, his baby blues met yours, a lazy smile overcoming his lips. “Watching me sleep?”

“No.” You denied, though he could see straight through the lie.

He hummed, reaching a hand out to trace over your bruised cheek. You leaned into the touch. “Still hurt?”

“Not really. Had a good doctor fix it up last night.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh. I mean, he slept with me afterwards which I thought was a little inappropriate...”

The biker scoffed, enclosing an arm around your bare waist to pull you closer. Sloppy kisses were planted down your jaw to your shoulder, ghosting over the dark bruises he’d marked you with only hours ago.

“I’ll miss you, you know. When you have to leave.” Bucky murmured, pulling away and laying back down against the pillow, his nose grazing yours.

You smiled sadly, pushing some of the hair away from his face. “Do you think this was stupid of us? To start something that’s just gonna have to end in a month?”

“Maybe, yeah,” He mirrored your expression, voice still a little raspy. “But I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither,” You twirled a lock of his hair sigh your pointer finger. “What’re you gonna do without me, huh? You might have to find another girl to take rides with you at sunset.”

Bucky shook his head, squeezing your waist. “Nah, I think I’d rather ride solo. Won’t be the same without you just over my shoulder.”

“Even when I get road rage?”

“Especially when you get road rage.”

“Well, we should probably make the most of the time we have left,” You propped yourself up on one elbow, a smirk playing on your lips. “How about a ride while the sun rises?”

“Sounds perfect.” He loosened his hold on you, letting you roll away from him and swing your legs over the side of the bed.

“Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mind if I take a shower with you?”

You thought for a moment. It’d be saving water, wouldn’t it? “Screw it, why not. C’mon, Buck.”

You scurried off to the bathroom, still naked as Bucky followed after you, suddenly not so tired anymore.

Perhaps the summer hadn’t went in the direction you’d been expecting, but you had no complaints about the turn that it’d taken. You’d never believed in fate or destiny, much like you’d never believed in love. However, you’d like to believe that you were meant to meet Bucky when you came back to Brooklyn at some point. You’d never met someone— someone so perfect for you, if you were being honest. He didn’t scold you for your sarcasm, or shame you for standing up for yourself. He responded to your teasing with his own, he knew how to make you laugh, how to make your cheeks hot and your knees weak. You were always on the exact same wavelength, always knowing how the other was feeling, being able to bring out the best in one another.

It seemed like a waste to spend the little time left at home thinking about summer ending, so you simply pushed it out of your mind. Enjoying the moment was something you’d learned to do over and over again, because that was all you could do in the life that you led.

The moments spent with Bucky Barnes were just going to be a little harder to let go of.

* * *

Taglist:

@domolovee @oplunket16 @barnestruck @igotkatiepowers

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #biker!bucky #biker!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes reader insert

840 notes · View notes

clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Normal ~ A.L.

A/n: Ah yes, this is going to be fun.

Request: “...Alec lightwood x male reader. Maybe the reader is mundane and shows Alec what it’s like being human for a day and then Alec shows him what it’s like being a shadow hunter. And maybe the whole time Alec is like o my word I love this kid...” by anon

Word Count: 5100+ (this is why it took me so long CHRIST I’m sorry)

MASTERLIST

You know, the thing that kept Mundanes seeing into the world of the Shadowhunters was a funny thing. It was supposed to always work, blocking humans from seeing monsters and those that hunted monsters. The problem was, nothing was perfect. Everyone made mistakes. Everything glitched from time to time.

I guess you could call Y/n a glitch.

The thing that kept humans from seeing things they shouldn't? It didn't work for Y/n.

When Y/n had first been seen facing down a vampire, it had seemed a little odd. The woman the vamp was going after seemed miffed that some dude was cutting in on her date, and everyone was confused. When they had killed the thing and Y/n had thanked them afterward, they'd all assumed he might have been like Clary - unaware of his Shadowhunter background somehow. But he had assured them he was human, and had proved it. Thankfully, since the plan had been to use a rune on him and if they had, he would have absolutely died.

Y/n was just immune to the magic that should have kept him far out of the knowing of what was really going on in the shadows of his town. Which left him unable to do anything, other than gather information and share it when he could. Y/n had no magic and no way to fight when he had no training or run protections, but he did have a talent for tricking monsters with their one weakness. He was human, and they were hungry.

Long story short: Y/n was really good at being bait, and he didn't mind it either.

Alec minded it a lot.

The two boys had gotten close pretty quickly. Alec refused to admit it, but Y/n was pretty charming. He had a nice smile and a contagious laugh, and a sort of lightness about him that was incredibly refreshing. It wasn't that he was untouched by darkness, or that he was fresh and innocent and waiting to be destroyed, like they all were before their line of living had ruined them. Y/n had been aware of monsters all his life, and being surrounded by people who could not see what he could see had landed him in either very near death situations, or mental hospitals a few times before he'd learned how to lie. He'd even been medicated really heavily a few times, but when that had done nothing, Y/n had come to terms that there was something going on that other people couldn't see. He had been in this business for a very long. No, Y/n was just the kind of person that refused to lose that inner child. He was soft and strong, and could make anyone smile and any situation bearable.

The way he made life so much more beautiful drew Alec in so aggressively, the Lightwood boy lost his breath every time.

Y/n was good at getting along with everyone else too. He wasn't good at much other than writing, leaving him to connect with Clary because of the similar vibes of their childhood, as well as their mutual passion for art. He and Simon bonded over poetry as well. Izzy enjoyed having someone who could keep up with her flirting, without it meaning anything or leading to something neither of them wanted. Even Jace was enjoying Y/n's presence when he proved that despite his lack of an ability to fight monsters and the such, Y/n WAS well trained in self defense. The two sparred while Y/n cracked jokes and made Jace laugh. Yeah, the blonde and brooding Jace was actually LAUGHING.

Having Y/n around was very refreshing.

So they all missed him a lot when he wasn't around.

Y/n attended college to chase am Arts History degree, and worked two jobs to keep himself afloat. The day Alec got permission to let Y/n move into the Institute was a great day for everyone. Now he was around a lot more- especially because now that he didn't have to pay rent, he could quit one of his jobs. In his free time, Y/n spent cleaning gear and learning how to hone his lame cooking skills. He wasn't great, but he was better than Izzy and was usually the only one with the energy to try it at the end of the day. When Hodge... went rogue, Y/n took charge of keeping up the Garden and learning all he could about how this world worked so he could take care of things and keep everything running smoothly. This left him spending most of his time in the library, reading up on history books.

One day though, Y/n needed Alec's help. Tensions between the two boys had risen almost to over spilling, but every time Y/n thought they were going somewhere, Alec stepped back. Y/n respected the boy's hesitance and never pushed, but the dragging was getting to everyone else. Izzy especially, who wanted the coolest mundane ever to get with her brother.

That wasn't why Y/n was bothering Alec now though. "Hey can I clean the glowing weapons things, or like... will those kill me?"

Alec couldn't help slip a small smile when he heard Y/n's voice. He turned around to see the boy coming in, a huge book in his hand but a confused look on his face. "Please tell me you're not talking about Seraph Blades."

"Those are the ones," Y/n confirmed without hesitation.

Alec shifted, raising an eyebrow. "They're just... fire."

"Well yes," Y/n drawled, rolling his eyes. "But the tubes. I mean, when they deactivate there's still something there, right? Doesn't that get covered in blood and stuff? Won't it getting all icky mess with the magic? And I've never seen any of them dirty. So do you guys have to clean them, or can I?"

That was very confusing to Alec. "Okay hold on. Have you never seen us kill a demon before?"

Y/n got rather sheepish then. "In my defense, I usually get in the way if I help, so I run unless there's someone in immediate danger. The last time, when I tried to help that girl, I almost got her, myself, AND Jace killed.

Alec flinched at the memory. "Jace is an idiot. Him jumping in when he did was his own fault."

"Wouldn't have been necessary if I wasn't provoking a damn vampire," Y/n mumbled.

"That girl probably would have died if you hadn't. We couldn't have attacked him with her there without chancing hurting her, or exposing ourselves. You saved her." Alec was ready to argue this, far too used to Jace's tendency to see the worst in himself despite the fact that he was actively a hero.

Y/n had to relent. "Fine, whatever. So, the blade?"

"Demons don't bleed," Alec explained. "They... well, it depends on the demons actually. Some turn to dust, or explode into fire. Some just kind of fade away. No need to clean blood off our weapons."

Y/n nodded, but obviously had a follow up question, so Alec waited for him to ask it. "Doesn't the dust get on your clothes? Does the fire ever burn you? Perhaps I should pick up some medical skills as well in case you guys come home hurt. Might make me more useful."

Alec rolled his eyes this time. "If you're seriously stuck on the idea of running this place instead of going out there and working in an art museum like you told Clary is your dream job, I won't stop you. That's not my decision to make." Y/n blushed, but Alec pretended not to see it. "However, if you're going to be one of us there are things you have to understand." He hesitated. "I want you to follow us around me around sometime. I can show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter. You can even come on a mission if you want, but I want you to stay FAR out of danger, do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Y/n was grinning, and between that and what he had said, Alec felt his chest heat up with a weird emotion he refused to address. "When do we start?"

A soft chuckle came from Alec then. "How about tomorrow? I'll wake you up bright and early, so be prepared."

Y/n nodded eagerly, already walking backward - presumably to return the book so he could head to bed. "Great! See you tomorrow, Alec!" He turned around and jogged away then.

Alec couldn't help himself but appreciate the view as Y/n retreated down the hall. He heard someone clear their throat and looked over to see Clary, whose smirk was so wide it wiped the smile off of Alec's face. He turned away from her and moved toward his own room. What had he gotten himself into?

When Alec got to Y/n's room that morning, he was expecting to have to wake the other boy up. Unfortunately for him, when he opened the door, Y/n was already awake. And getting dressed. He wore the long, dark pants a lot of the guys around here wore when they weren't in Mundane clothes. He did not, however, have a shirt on. "Oh, good morning Alec," Y/n greeted brightly.

Alec almost exploded right there. Y/n wasn’t especially muscly, but he was rather lean. Y/n did a lot of walking, running, and casual work outs every once in a while before meeting the Shadowhunters. He knew self defense after all, and liked that the occasional work out filled him with energy after a while, even if it tired him out at first. Since joining the Institute though, Jace had enforced a daily workout. Some days Y/n got even more done when the two boys sparred, or when he had to move things around for research (those books were a lot heavier than they looked) or rearranged his room again because he liked to have a new layout every once in a while. Y/n had become the extra pair of hands everyone was excited to have. He was strong enough to spot for a lot of the other Shadowhunters even, leaving him in that comfortable middle between ripped and soft. He had angles and lines, but plenty of soft edges too. He looked like he could pick Alec up and then cuddle him just as easily. It was a body type that looked very good on the boy, and seeing him shirtless did things to Alec that should not have been being done.

It was then that Alec realized Y/n was talking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Y/n laughed, shaking his head in amusement. He put a shirt on, leaving Alec wondering if the boy knew what had left Alec so distracted. "I asked you what was first on the agenda today."

"Have you done your morning workout today yet?" Y/n shook his head. "Then that's where we'll start." And they did. Alec pushed himself further usual, and he knew he was doing it to show off to Y/n, but he also knew a little part of him wanted to outshine Y/n too. The boy kept up pretty well, and Alec didn't want to have a Mundane do better than him. After, they got breakfast, parted to shower, and then rejoined again to head to the sparring ring.

"You guys do a lot of training here," Y/n realized aloud.

Thankfully Alec had caught it, because he was super distracted by the way Y/n's wet hair shone under the lighting of the Institute, and the way it made his eyes look brighter. He didn't need to get caught for staring again. "Yeah. It takes up time, but it also keeps us ready for any surprise attacks, and prepared for nighttime hunts." Y/n nodded but didn't say anything else as they reached the rings. Alec grabbed two long staffs, passing one to Y/n as they stepped up to spar. Y/n knew what to do - he did it often with Jace. Alec was sure he'd claim victory over the Mundane.

Which left him rather speechless when Y/n pinned him. They were both out of breath and Y/n loomed over Alec, his feet planted and knees trapping Alec as the end of Y/n's staff rested threateningly against Alec's throat. "You're dead," Y/n joked.

Alec looked at Y/n with new eyes. What was with this guy? Why did Alec have to try so much harder to end up on top? Mundanes were like Clary and Simon, before they'd been trained. Alec could still remember how long both of them had lost time and time again to even the newest and youngest Shadowhunters. How could Y/n win against Alec? "How are you so good at fighting? I thought your thing was writing stories."

Y/n moved back, letting Alec go. He offered a hand and Alec took it. He was once again knocked breathless when Y/n hauled Alec to his feet without seeming to even struggle. "I'm stronger than I look. And... when I was younger, I didn't have shadowhunters and parabatai to have my back. I had to learn how to defend myself. Whether it was running from monsters, or making sure I didn't get pummeled by bigger kids who called me crazy and laughed at me because of the stories I supposedly made up..." He shrugged.

That didn't settle well in Alec's stomach. "I don't think any of us know what it's like to live like that. Clary doesn't remember, and the rest of us grew up with each other. I... I'm sorry, that's terrible."

There was a second when Alec saw the heaviness that Y/n hid so well in the boy's shoulders. Suddenly Alec was stunned by how someone so burdened by pain and sorrow could still radiate so much light and joy and comfort. How did Alec only now know that Y/n was capable of winning against even a well trained Shadowhunter, if he was really trying? Why was it such a shock that someone who grew up with deformed nightmares roaming around, would be able to kick some ass and defend himself? Alec realized then that Y/n made everyone feel safe. Y/n didn't seem able to hurt anyone, even if he wanted to. It made Y/n even more amazing that he was capable of defending someone if he had to, but chose not to in favor of making people feel safe around him. I dare say it made Alec feel even more safe.

Y/n sighed, and the moment passed. He was smiling again and Alec felt his heart swell with a feeling that terrified the dark haired boy. A feeling that also made him feel... really great too. "So what's next on the agenda, Lightwood?" "Jace will have our goal for tonight. Come on." Alec lead the way as they both headed to where Jace was. Alec explained the situation, and with Y/n's assurance he'd be plenty safe, Jace agreed. Y/n had been around a lot, and Alec was right - if he was up keeping the place, he had to know what being a Shadowhunter was actually like. After that had been settled, the trio headed to track down Izzy and Clary for the mission tonight.

"First thing first, Y/n's joining us tonight. He won't be getting involved, and will only be tagging along for educational purposes so he can know what he's dealing with as he gets more involved with how this place work, as well as the people in it," Jace began. Izzy and Clary both nodded, no arguments to be heard. "Okay, now down to business." Long story short, there were two demons who had teamed up and they had to kill it. Usual stuff.

Since when had demons and murder become Y/n's normal? Yikes.

The kill went rather smoothly, just like it was supposed to. It was a nice change from all the odd things that had been rocking everyone's world since Clary, Simon, and Y/n had joined the team. Very good for teaching as well. Y/n stayed back as promised, taking notes mentally and internalizing it. He thought about his thought earlier on how murder and demonic beings had at some point gone from nightmare to reality. Normal, even. For Shadowhunters, there was no shift. They grew up and lived a life where monsters were more than nightmare and you learned to kill from a young age. Perhaps it was fair, since they were bad guys surviving off of killing humans, but still. Alec knew how to kill Y/n. He probably could, if it was required or just if he wanted to. He could do it and he would get away with it too. Shadowhunters leave no trace and no Nephalim was going to care about Y/n being dead.

As the dark thought started to rise, Y/n pushed it down. As much as he seemed a bundle of effortless happiness and light, even he had his moments. He was just better at keeping them in check.

Everyone came home and got ready for bed as Y/n made food. He finished up before anyone came to eat so he killed time by making everyone's plate and putting them on the counter. When he was still alone, he sat on the counter and let himself get lost in thought. Just as he was, Clary popped into the room. "That smells amazing."

Y/n smiled. "I hope it tastes as good as it smells then." They both chuckled as Clary grabbed her plate and began to leave. "Going so soon?"

She nodded. "I have this... it's sort of um..." she seemed to be struggling. "Drawing. Can I show you later?" It was a habit she'd gotten from Y/n, losing her words when she was excited. She had been a little like that before being a Shadowhunter, when it came to art. Y/n fueled it again and set off her fire. She was more into art than ever and Y/n loved to see it, even if it meant one less person at the dinner table.

Y/n had been trying to have family dinners, but most of the time his efforts dissolved. Rarely did he get everyone. Usually he only managed to wrangle a few, and sometimes he ate alone. When a Clary left, it wasn't long before Simon and Izzy meandered in, lost in conversation about something. Y/n wasn't totally listening, as they were obviously midconversation and Y/n was lost as to what they‘d said up until now. They each grabbed a plate and headed out. Y/n sighed and watched them, but still said nothing.

Jace came next. "What did you think about the fight tonight?"

Y/n jumped and then chuckled. Jace gave a sort of guilty look. The blonde tended to hide his emotions, but when it came to Y/n he was always sorry to disturb the boy. Y/n had just seemed very pensive - nearly sad - and Jace hated the expression on Y/n's face. He was too used to the others who were trained to notice other people in the room even if they were quiet.

Quickly composing himself again, Y/n responded. "It was... cool, I guess. You guys are incredibly talented and there's something aesthetic about watching demons vaporize. It gave me a lot to think about."

"Like what?" Have asked, eyebrow cocked.

For a second Y/n hesitated but then Jace doned a prying look and Y/n was a terrible liar so he gave in. "You guys don't know what it's like to be human." Jace's expression darkened and Y/n flinched. "I mean, you have this angel blood that puts you above everyone else. You slay demons and purify the world and handle the boosting power of runes that any other creature would be destroyed by. You know what it's like to be angel. Except maybe the flying." The joke lifted Jace's mood a little. "But you don't know what it's like to... I mean, you're half human. But I can't imagine any of you getting jobs or going to high school. Being vulnerable without the protection of your runes and the insane immunity they grant you. I mean- like earlier, I realized that Alec could one hundred percent kill me if he wanted to, and he would get away with it. No human would know, and no Nephilim would care so-"

"Clary, Izzy, and I would care." Jace seemed to have not meant to say it out loud. But he had and it stopped Y/n short.

He felt cared for and it made him uncomfortable. Jace could sense that. "Well that's... not the point." He blushed. "But thank you."

Jace nodded, then moved on to spare Y/n. The other boy obviously wasn't used to having people care about him. It made Jace remember that Y/n's life had been really hard. Y/n had spent almost all his life alone. Sometimes it was easy to forget with how kind and loving Y/n was. He was used to taking care of other people but being taken care of? Yikes. "Does it bother you?"

Y/n immediately shook his head. "Not at all. I don't feel in danger, at least. I trust all of you guys and know that none of you want to kill me. It does bother me though that you don't get to experience that normalcy. I mean does anyone here bake just for fun? Or have hobbies outside killing literal demons?" Jace went to speak but Y/n cut him off. "Clary doesn't count, she wasn't raised a Shadowhunter." Jace's mouth closed and Y/n sighed. "I just wish more... safe things for you guys. More fun and laughing and loving and less sneaking around in the shadows and killing. Thinking like that all the time... living a life where you only survive and hide and kill. I can't imagine it does good things for your mental health."

"I'm in perfect health," Jace reassured Y/n.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "No you're-" He stopped, shaking his head. He hesitated, perking up when an idea occurred to him. "What if I incorporated a little humanity into how we run things here? We can have like arts and crafts rooms and encourage people to utilize the library and the garden for things other than just necessities. I can enforce family dinners and we can congregate and have awkward family dinner discussions like normal people."

Jace smiled. "That sounds really nice actually."

That encouraged Y/n a lot. "Perfect, I'll start tomorrow."

"Start what?" Two sets of eyes turned to see Alec coming in the room. His eyes lingered on Jace, who seemed to be light on fire by the eye contact, as he was instantly on his feet, grabbing his plate, and heading out.

"Y/n can explain. He has a really great idea." He paused, smiling wider. "I'll see you at dinner tomorrow." Then he headed out, leaving behind a grinning Y/n. Alec snagged the last two plates, setting one by Y/n and the other on the counter next to him. He then pulled up a chair, turning it backward so the back of the chair was against his chest as he sat down, beginning to eat on the counter rather than the table to keep Y/n company. "What was that?"

Another idea hit Y/n then. "I'm going to bring some goddamn humanity to this Institute. You're all half human and you act like that's a bad thing or something! I'll start with a crafting room, and then using the garden and library for fun stuff instead of just what we need. We'll have a calendar with birthdays and celebrate each one with a proper little get together. AND, we're having family dinners from here on. Spread the word."

The authority in Y/n's tone took Alec off guard. "Will do." He found himself smiling a little. "I show you what it's like to be a Shadowhunter and you took from it that we need to be more human?"

Y/n mulled that over for a second, rather than letting it go as the joke Alec had intended it to be. "I don't want to erase your angel half. I know what you do is important, and that you guys save people and stuff. But even though you do good things for others, none of you do anything for yourselves. Self care isn't just staying in shape and getting food and sleep and healing yourselves when you get hurt. Do you have any hobbies other than fighting, Alec?" The Lightwood boy considered before conceding that Y/n had a point. "You showed me how to be a Shadowhunter. Now let me show you what it's like to be human." Alec's smile grew. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Y/n agreed.

The day started the same, with Y/n respecting that Alec still had a routine and also that said routine was one some people carried as well. The waking up early and doing a morning workout, more than the killing demons and keeping vampires, werewolves, and fairies in check, but still.

Next, Y/n pulled him over to his laptop where he was going to online school. As Y/n worked, he answered questions about high school and even middle school. The more he talked the more Alec's face twisted in a bitter expression, like he'd bit into a lemon. Y/n busted up laughing when he got to math and Alec moved away from the screen as if it had offended him. "Not as glamorous as kicking ass and taking names and saving lives and shit, but it's cool. I guess."

Alec shook his head. "Is this... necessary?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Y/n snorted. "Do you use math like this? Ever?" Alec shook his head no. "And you're far more productive than most people who graduate college- and debt free!"

There was a moment where Alec seemed speechless. When he spoke again, it was slow. "This is kind of nice though. Easier to.. handle." He eyed the math page again. "No, I take that back. This is much scarier."

Y/n laughed at that. "Less deadly though. I get it." Alec smiled at him. It was so small it practically wasn't there, but it was, and it was sweet.

After a while, Y/n put his homework away. "That's not due for a while. Having to balance the human world and the shadow world was difficult at first so one night I pulled an all nighter and got weeks ahead on homework. My teachers were a little miffed since thy hadn't taught me the material yet, but easy ones like English were easy to swallow. Just, read a book and write an essay. You know?" Alec did nod knowingly at that. "My point is, we've had enough of this and don't have to finish it for tonight, so now is a good time for a break." He hummed to himself, thinking. "Do you guys have a TV here?" Alec rose his eyebrows. "That's what I thought. Come on we're going to go to my place."

So they did.

Alec had never been to Y/n's apartment before. Y/n had been clearing it out slowly, but there were still some thing here. Things that he couldn't take with him to the institute. Things like the fridge and the big furniture and, yes, the TV. It wasn't that he couldn't fit his bed and couches in the Institute, it was just that it would make it official if he did, and things still seemed to be up in the air for him.

"It's nice." It was perfectly clean and bright. The curtains were drawn to let the sun in and the walls were painted a light baby blue. The whole place made Alec relax his body. He sat on the very comfy couch and practically melted. There was just a sort of ambiance here that gave Alec the impression nothing bad could ever happen here. Which went against logic and reason and experience and training... but I guess that programming wasn't enough to fight the way the couch dipping with Y/n's weight, next to Alec, felt like... safety personified.

The two watched a few movies Alec had never seen or even heard of. Halfway through the Lion King, Alec felt his body lean into Y/n's. Without missing a beat Y/n shifted his arm so Alec could lean into in more, even rest his head on the other man's chest. Every time Y/n moved or laughed or spoke Alec didn't just hear it. He felt it. It was amazing.

All too soon, the sun was down and it was nighttime. "Do you want to watch another one, or should you be heading to bed soon?"

Surprise overtook Alec when he realized what time it was. His body was completely undone and his heart rate had evened out. He'd never been this calm in his life. "I'm surprised Jace hasn't come hunting me down."

That made Y/n smile. "I told him the plan for today. Told him that I was commandeering you and if he showed up to steal you tonight I'd kick his ass personally. I may be a Mundane but that won't stop me from finding a way to knock the blonde out of his hair." A jerking laugh bubbled from Alec then at the mental image of Y/n doing such a thing. "Yeah," Y/n agreed, chuckling along. "Took some convincing to get them to all take the night off. Jace argued, but as much as saving people is important, taking care of yourselves is just as important. And after you showed me what you guys do every single day... Holy shit."

Weird feelings began to twist in Alec's stomach. He could lie very well, about a lot of things. He could lie so convincingly that Jace would back off, and Izzy would let it go. He could lie to his mother to meet her ever demanding expectations. Unfortunately, he could only lie to himself for so long until his realist side kicked in and demanded him to accept what was.

He was in love with Y/n.

Well, shit.

"What are you thinking about over there?"

Alec felt his stomach flip. Double shit.

"Just... uh." He flinched at his sudden awkwardness. Y/n frowned, noticing it since they were so close. "I just want to thank you. The way you've thrown yourself into our lives and way of living and have done your best to keep everything going and then improve upon it? It's amazing. You work really hard to make life better for us."

Y/n swallowed, his face relaxed but his eyes intense. There was something in those eyes that was begging to be seen and known, but Alec was too scared to acknowledge it. What if Y/n could see through him and wanted to just be friends? What if Y/n was trying to be polite? But if that was the case, wouldn't he have pushed Alec away? Why was he pulling him closer?

Then they were kissing and it was all because of Y/n and Alec didn't have any doubts anymore.

When they parted again, Alec's mind was racing and Y/n's voice was soft. "I'll always be here Alec. All I want to do is make your life better and easier and more pleasant. You deserve it."

This time Alec kissed Y/n, and it lasted much longer and was much more intense. When they parted for the second time, Alec whispered, "Will you move in for real? I want you around all the time. I want you close and safe and I don't want you to go anywhere else. I don't want you to have to."

Y/n smiled. "Anything for you."

Male reader tags: @sheepfather

#alec lightwood #male reader #shadown hunters #x reader #imagine #alec lightwood x reader #alec lightwood imagine #shadow hunters x reader #shadow hunters imagine

274 notes · View notes

thevodkadidthis · 5 years ago

Text

Hickeys and Sharpies.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Professor!Sebastian. College AU. Warning(s): some light smut, cussing, age gap and fluff(?) Word Count: 2.2K words Summary: when a supposedly one-night stands ends up with a twist. Note: some 3am ideas came in mind, lmao. pardon me for being t h i s lame, hope you like this anyway!

Cursing for what felt like the hundredth time even though you just got up from bed, you quickly paced around the room to pick up the discarded clothes that are scattered on the floor. You glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and frowned upon seeing that you are already a few minutes late for the first period.

Wearing nothing but your undergarments, you contemplated whether you should take a bath or run for class. Apparently, you still reek of alcohol, a bit of sweat and a bit of him. “Fuck it.” You muttered under your breath and went for the latter idea. You settled in wearing a printed over-sized shirt and denim pants, spraying a bit of perfume to try and hide the absence of a decent bath. You tried to comb your hair and fixed your appearance in front of the mirror. After a couple of attempts, you finally breathed a satisfied sigh and went on to attend the first period.

You didn’t want to be late, especially now that you are supposed to meet the new teacher for Linguistics. Throughout the trip to the campus, you couldn’t help but to visualize the things that had occurred the previous night, while trying not to mind the growing headache on both sides of your head.

Feeling reckless and adventurous, you and your friends decided to drink in a club that is a bit far from the dormitories, a bit far from the campus—to try and meet new people, and to try things out in other places. One of your friends recommended a certain place, and as you arrive at the front, you could already see the neon lights and other bright lights that seemed to shoot into the sky. You felt a wave of excitement in your gut as you entered the place; a crowd of dancing people drenched in sweat welcomed you, loud music boomed and reverberated from all places in the darkly-lit room. A friend immediately approached the bar and called all of you for a round of shots, tequila is always the best starter for a fun night, you thought, as you downed 3 shots of it. Quickly aiding the burn in your throat with a slice of lemon and salt that sits on the counter, you winced and closed your eyes as the familiar sensation caused by the alcohol slowly creep its way into your skin, and into your bones. Feeling a bit loosened up, you dragged one person from your group and headed to the center for a dance when one of your favorite songs plays. You swayed your hips and bobbed your head to the beat of the music. There were a couple of boys who started to dance around you yet you paid no mind, all of them looked wasted and shit-faced—you didn’t want that. After a couple of minutes, you approached the bar for another drink. Wiping the droplets of sweat that formed in your forehead, you asked the bartender for a tequila shot and fanned yourself using your hand to try and get some air.

“That dude right there wants to pay for your drink.” The bartender approached and handed you two shots of tequila, along with a slice of lemon and salt, like how you took it earlier. You glanced to the direction where he motioned and saw a man wearing black and tight sweater that obviously hugged his well-built body. You narrowed your eyes to try and get a better look, he certainly does not look like any college student. He was staring right back at you and raised his glass of beer, you mirrored his move and mouthed a thank you to him and drank the shot.

You entered the main entrance and checked for your schedule that’s in your phone, and started sprinting towards the room for your first class. Clearing your throat, you slowly opened the door in the back of the room and quietly settled into the seat on the farthest part of the room—however, everyone seemed to look at you despite of your efforts at trying to stay quiet upon entering the room, you even had your head down to pay some respect to the professor. Looking back at everyone, you couldn’t exactly decipher the expressions they have on their faces, they were simply looking, as if it’s the first time they encountered a student that is late for her class.

Then you stared at the front, where the professor stood, arms crossed on chest.

Jesus fucking Christ, you’ve got to be shitting me.

He didn’t try to stop the smirk that forms on his lips as he continues to stare at you, “Sorry I’m late, sir.”

“I was just discussing about the rules and regulations in the room, more specifically, how I do not encourage latecomers or tardy students.” He started to sit on the edge of his wooden table, your gaze dropped on his incredibly tight jeans that accentuates his thick thighs, your breath was caught on your throat because he knew where exactly you’re looking. “But I’m going to let you slide today, since you look like you had a rough night.” He continued, emphasizing the rough word and you felt your head spinning even more.

Everyone already stopped looking at you so you took that time to close your eyes and curse, again. Dropping your head low on the table, you mentally tried to remember the events again, as you try to come up with an explanation as to why you are stuck in a situation like this.

Once separated by a bar counter and a couple of tables, you and the stranger who bought you a drink somehow found a way to touch each other. You were suddenly back on the dance floor again, more loosened up than ever as you feel a pair of hands caressing your sides as he guides your hips and you just kept on swaying, you turned your back to him and danced harder, intentionally bumping your ass towards his groin and you heard how his breath got caught on his mouth, you smirked at him, feeling a bit more bold and confident, knowing you had that kind of effect over him. Reaching out to grasp a handful of your hair and tilting your head to the side, “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked and he didn’t need a verbal answer because you were already pulling his hand away and towards the exit.

You took out a notebook from your bag along with a black pen and started writing scribbles on the pages, momentarily looking up to the teacher and pretending to pay attention, but your mind is simply wandering away and into the memories from last night. You knew why his eyes always lingered on you longer, but you are always the one to break it off by drawing lines and odd shapes on your notes.

After a painfully long ride towards your dorm building, his impatience and growing desire was finally satiated as his lips crashed on you the moment your keys unlocked the front door. His hands were all over the place: one, it was placed on the back of your neck to press you more against him; two, he dragged it downwards to cup your breast; three, it was moving up and down on your sides while both of your tongues fight for dominance and power.

Deprived of air, he pulled away, and his eyes glistened with pure lust and desire under the dim lights of your room, “You’re wearing too much clothes.” He grunted, you pulled the hem of your dress upward and completely taking it off. He took a couple of seconds to stare at your body, drinking in your appearance.

You tried to pull his shirt away and you felt your thighs pressing against each other as you stare at his body, he had the most beautiful body you have ever seen and you knew you weren’t going to last long with him, you’d fall apart, almost immediately.

His lips found its way back to yours, with more force now and hunger, “I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

Chewing on the other end of the pen, you looked outside and at the windows as you keep on reminiscing. You really tried to pay attention and to listen to him, but your gaze kept dropping on his smooth and pink lips, the way his arm muscles flexed whenever he raises it, and how he lick his lips from time to time while speaking in front of the class. Then, you remembered the bitten marks on your chest and a bit on your collarbones while you were wearing your bra and the shirt earlier. You kept on looking down at your groin as the vision of your physical connection flashes by in your mind.

It felt good to be on top of him while his hands grip on your hips tight, you swore it will bruise the day after but you didn’t mind. He felt good inside of you as he fills you up and you continue to pound into him, your fingers made its way to your bundle of nerves and started to touch yourself but he was quick to spot the move and he swat your hand away, replacing it with his own.

Go on, let it all out

Moan my name

Come on, baby, you’re doing so, so good

That’s right, keep on doing that, just like that

His deep voice whispered, grunted and moaned into your ear as you felt a familiar pressure forming in your abdomen. You were trying to keep your voice down, at minimal level, or else everyone residing on the same floor as you will know just how loud you are during sex. But he wasn’t helping at all, he wanted to hear you, and he was either muffling your moans with his full mouth kisses, or he is urging you to moan out loud.

After a couple of thrusts, praising and moans from him—you fell apart, with shaking legs and labored breathing, you reached your climax and he was still going in and out of you in a dangerously slow pace, riding out your orgasm, when his movement shifted and got too fast again, you knew he was chasing his own. You collapsed on top of him, the side of your face resting on his chest and you tried to recover, to grasp for air again, as he did the same. He assisted you and laid you down on the space beside him, you were about to clean up but he draped a blanket over you and snaked an arm right at your waist, it was a very comfortable feeling, a safe one even, despite of how he is just a stranger and you literally met each other a couple of hours ago.

He kissed one shoulder as he hug you from behind, “You did well tonight, darling. Sleep tight.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the first period. You were quick to put your things away and shove them into your bag, ignoring the mess it would make on the inside of your bag, you didn’t care anymore, you just suddenly had the strong will to escape from this embarrassment.

“Miss? The one from the back.” You heard him call out, turning to his direction, you tried to know or to confirm if he was talking to you. And he was. With a sly smile on his face, “I need you to sign some papers here—attendance, since you were late.”

You swallowed hard, but continued to walk over him anyway.

You got into the wooden table and picked up the paper he was handing down, but you were surprised because it wasn’t a list of the class, there wasn’t any name printed on the sheet. It was a scratch paper, with words written in pencil.

Don’t go out yet, stay. Wait for the others to leave.

Your gaze immediately shot back to him but he was looking at the other students, bidding them goodbyes with the most polite smile he could ever give.

So you waited, until the last student got out.

“You didn’t send a text.” He started, with a hint of disappointment on his face.

Your mouth fell open, not quite sure what he meant, “What?”

He moved closer and reached out for your right arm, lifting the sleeve and exposing the skin on it. The way his fingers gripped you and how his skin felt hot against you sent shivers, but you looked at your own arm and you noticed the small numbers written with a sharpie.

“Oh.”

He smirked, “I’m surprised it’s still there, thought it got washed away.” He picked up his book and re-arranged the his stuff, “I could still smell the sex off of you.” Then it was followed by a chuckle, as he head towards the front door, about to exit.

“Call me when you want it to happen again, I’m Sebastian, by the way.” Were his last words before completely exiting the room, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.

#au:drabble #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan smut #marvel #school #professor #club #seb #sebastian x reader #thevodkadidthiswrites #smut #smut imagines #smut implied

339 notes · View notes

babyboy-bangtan · 5 years ago

Photo

By Chance Chapters 1-4

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

✚ Pairing: Sub!BTS/Female Reader ✚ Word Count: 3.3K ✚ Rating: M ✚ Warnings: None for now. ✚ A/N: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Before

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No.

Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

Absolutely not.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

Jesus Christ, fine.

You groan and grab your phone from your bedside table, turning off the alarm. It's not possible or even logical, but you really feel the big 5:00 A.M. on your lock screen is making fun of you.

You really want to die.

As you take a deep breath and pull the covers off of you, you get angry at your own stupidity last night. You had no business staying up until 1 a.m. watching Netflix knowing very well you had to be on the makeup chair at 6, but you went and watched a show anyway.

Actually, no, scratch that. This is Netflix's fault. It's their fault for making it so that you want to binge their goddamn shows. You're merely a victim of a very successful streaming platform.

You should sue them.

Well, once you're done filming your movie for them, that is. Once you're done with the movie and the promotion for it you'll sue them for robbing you of your precious sleep, because that's unforgivable, despicable, heinous, wretched—

Before you can continue with your methodical planning of the lawsuit you're going to throw into Netflix's face for making you stay up late at night and then get up early to film their movie, your phone ringing pulls you out of your angry thoughts.

It's your stylist calling.

Right, you asked her to call you because you were not sure you weren't gonna sleep through the five alarms you set for this morning— but against all odds, you actually woke up with the first one.

"Good morning. I promise I'm up." You reassure her before she can say anything. "I'm gonna shower soon."

"That's fine." She laughs. "I'm just calling cause you told me to last night."

"I knoow." You drawl out. "I was worried I'd ignore the alarms. But I'm up. No worries."

"Alright then. See ya in a bit, dude."

"Byeeeeeee!" You say, throwing your phone into your bed after hanging up.

Your bed, the love of your life. So soft, so inviting, so beautiful and ready to keep you comfortable for as long as you need it to. Except you need to be sitting on the makeup chair at 6, so no more bed for today. You take a deep breath and walk to the bathroom, as ready as you can be to star the day after only getting 4 hours of sleep.

"Good morning Timmy." You greet your costar with a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning to you too." He says, biting back a smile. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"

"I have a right to remain silent." You reply, taking a sip of your coffee before walking past him. He catches up to you quickly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I got up at 5 a.m. so, of course not." He says, rolling his eyes at you. "I got like 5 hours of sleep only."

"Ha!" You say, stopping as you grip the handle of the makeup trailer's door. "I slept 4. I win."

Once you're both on your makeup chairs, you laugh as quietly as you can when you notice Timotheé dozing off while his hair is brushed, and you grab your phone to distract yourself. You can't really sleep when you're sitting up even if the fact that your stylist is working on your hair is really relaxing you, so you might as well try to get a bit more awake than you are now.

While you're telling her about the interesting article you just read, your phone vibrates in your hand, interrupting you. You quickly open the text when you see is from one of your friends, thinking that if she messaged you at 6 a.m. then it must be something important.

Or... maybe not. What you got instead of an important text is what you're pretty sure is a screencap of a Buzzfeed headline.

DID [Y/N] REALLY MEET BTS WITHOUT ANYONE OF US KNOWING?

You absolutely did not. You'd definitely remember meeting the most famous boy band in the world.

You quickly type a response.

Lmao no I didn't What's that about?

It only takes her a moment to reply.

It's just clickbait but it's like a thing right now People went nuts thinking you'd met BTS Because someone uploaded a video to youtube called [Y/N] BTS But it was just a behind the scenes video But then this tweet went viral

She then sends you another screencap, this time of a tweet with over 100k likes that's quoting another tweet with a video you recognize as the behind the scenes video you filmed for your last movie.

When you think [Y/N] met BTS but the BTS actually stands for Behind The Scenes 🤡

You actually laugh at that.

😂😂😂 my god Thanks for keeping me up to date with news about myself

She quickly responds.

No prob, Bob. Also you were trending on Twitter on #1 and #2 because of it Now you're like below the 7th but i got proof

She then sends you another picture, this time of the trending topics list. There it is at number 1, "[Y/N] BTS" and at number 2 is just your name. Below that one it's BTS alone.

As far as you know, BTS and kpop fans have the power to make anything trend on Twitter, so you're not that surprised to see they got you trending because they thought you'd met them. You're a bit surprised about the fact that it was over a complete misunderstanding, but stranger things have gone viral in the past and they will continue to do so in the future.

You wish your friend good luck at work today before you start telling your stylist about what just happened, and she just rolls her eyes and complains about people making news out of literally nothing nowadays. You agree completely— this isn't even the first time you are trending on twitter because of something silly— so you just drop the subject and go back to talking to her about the article you read. However, the thought of meeting BTS stays at the back of your mind for some reason.

You've only heard a couple of their most popular songs, which were admittedly very good and enjoyable, but you'd be lying if you didn't admit you'd love to meet them soon. They're huge right now, and even though you wouldn't call yourself a fan considering you don't even know all their names, you still recognize how incredible their journey has been and how talented they are.

Well, that and the tiny detail that every single one of them is absolutely stunning.

Chapter 2: Jungkook

"Who's [Y/N]?" Jungkook asks suddenly with a little frown as he sits on the floor after dance practice, scrolling through his phone. He's sure he has heard your name before, but he doesn't really know anything about you.

"Uhh... isn't she an American actress?" Namjoon replies, downing half of his water bottle. "I think I saw one of her movies. A period drama. She's pretty good." He pauses. "Why?"

"[Y/N] BTS is trending on Twitter." He replies, reading through some of the most popular tweets about it. "Apparently there was a misunderstanding with a video." He shrugs, opening the video in question.

It's you wearing one of those 19th century dresses, but the effect is lost because the fact that you're wearing a modern coat and sunglasses. If he understood you correctly over the awful sound quality, you were on the first day of shooting.

"What are you watching?" Hoseok asks, standing behind him.

"The video people thought was of her with us. It's a behind the scenes video of her movie." He replies absent-mindedly, focused on his phone. "I think it's from the one you watched, Hyung." He tells Namjoon, looking up at him.

You seem to be at a dance practice now, with who he assumes was your costar. It looks like some kind of waltz, and you both seem to be already good at it— there's no way this is the first time you're rehearsing it. Suddenly, the man flips you around gracefully and presses his front to your back in what Jungkook assumes was meant to be an intimate moment, but only a second later you start twerking and then everyone is laughing.

Him, too.

"Come on, we have to go." Hoseok says, tapping his shoulder.

"I'm coming." Jungkook replies, still watching the video even as he stands up. "She's funny." He says to the rest, occasionally looking up to make sure he doesn't run into a wall.

"What did you say happened with her?" Jimin asks, massaging his shoulder with a grimace.

"Apparently someone uploaded a behind the scenes video of one of her movies but since it said BTS people thought it was about her meeting us."

If Jimin— or anyone else for that matter— cared about his response, Jungkook didn't realize. He clicks on the next suggested video and keeps watching, not paying attention to anyone else. It's during his viewing of that video that Jungkook decides he'll watch the movie Namjoon mentioned as soon as he gets free time to do so, and then he'll see what other movies you've done to see if anything interests him.

The fact that you're beautiful and when you smile his tummy feels tingly has absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

Chapter 3: Jimin

The thought of the video Jungkook mentioned at dance practice comes back to Jimin all of a sudden late at night, when his mind is restless and the painkillers haven't eased the ache of his shoulder just yet. He can't sleep, so he might as well distract himself a little until they kick in.

He doesn't remember your name correctly; he misspells it several times until he just searches "Actress behind the scenes video mistaken bts band" and several recent articles appear.

[Y/N], that's right. That was your name. The names he'd been trying weren't even remotely similar.

He opens one article just for the sake of it— it's a very clickbait-y one, but he figures it's likely all of them will be— and starts reading an unnecessary long version of what happened. The gist of the article is what Jungkook already said: people confused a behind the scenes video of your movie with a video that involved them, and it went viral.

There are other suggested articles about you at the end of the one he just read, and one specifically catches his attention.

"[Y/N] gets bold on new Vogue Magazine interview: 'Gender roles are such bulls**t.'"

He quickly opens the original article instead of the mess he's sure is the one on the clickbait site, and he can't hold back a gasp at the picture of you that appears in front of him.

He figures he shouldn't be surprised considering what year it is and how normal it is to see women in suits nowadays, but he can't help but get his breath taken away when he sees a woman wearing one. He doesn't know what it is, and it's not really every suit on every woman that does it either— but the one you're wearing on that photo definitely fits the bill.

Your hair is purposefully messy— the kind of messy that can only be achieved by having a hair stylist work on you for a considerable amount of time, he knows that very well— and your face is covered in natural-looking makeup.

Except for your eyes. They did a beautiful job with them.

You are most certainly not wearing a bra and he knows that the fact that it's just noticeable enough is also very intentional, and there's something about the pose you're doing that is making his palms sweat.

Chin tilted up.

Eyes half lidded, looking down.

Mouth slightly open.

White dress shirt, with just two buttons undone.

He almost wishes you'd gone for another one as well, so your cleavage would be visible.

Almost.

The picture is perfect as it is. Can't be improved by anything.

The quote on the clickbait site isn't even the most interesting part of the article; you talk about leaving social media because the pressure of making sure people liked you affected your mental health, about going to therapy since you were a teenager, and about how annoyed you were a couple years ago when the movement #AskHerMore was in full swing and you still felt reduced to only the way you looked at the Oscars, where a movie you were in was nominated. If Jimin understands correctly, a video of you looking very annoyed at the questions went viral.

"It was very frustrating," The quote begins. "because on one hand you had what was supposed to help the interviewers realize that you want to talk more about the movie you worked so hard on, but so many of them simply didn't care. I guess what really got to me was that there were people saying that women get asked about their looks because their dresses are so beautiful and of course people notice them, but I was wearing the most generic black suit you've ever seen. And still they kept calling me bold and chic and other things just cause I had fu**ing pants on."

He opens a new tab and quickly types "[Y/N] Oscars suit outfit" before he even realizes what he's doing.

And there it is: the same feeling he got a few minutes ago when he saw the first picture of you.

Breathless, palms sweaty.

He scrolls through the image results, opening and looking at related pictures of you in suits from other events. It seems that it's a preferred outfit for you along with jumpsuits, and there's an occasional dress now and then.

He sighs and goes back to the article to finish it and look at the rest of the pictures from the Vogue session.

"It doesn't just happen to me." You say in another quote. "There are other women who wear suits and it gets treated like some kind of big deal when they're just clothes. And men have it way, way worse. At least we can wear a suit normally but if men want to wear dresses or skirts or even clothes that deviate from what so many people consider masculine, they'll have people criticizing them and disrespecting them in horrible ways. They're just pieces of fu**ing fabric! Gender roles are such bulls**t."

Jimin smiles at that, and at the fact that the writer of the piece comments that you get very passionate when talking about such things. He likes it.

A big yawn interrupts his train of thought, and he realizes his shoulder hasn't been bothering him for a little while now. He leaves his phone on his nightstand and gets comfortable under the covers, thinking it would be nice if they had actually met you, instead of it only being just a misunderstanding.

Maybe one day.

Chapter 4: Jin

Because Jin is sitting next to Jungkook inside the van, he can't really help but be distracted by the videos the younger has been watching nonstop on his phone. As it has been for the past couple of weeks, he's watching another one of your interviews.

It's astoundingly obvious to everyone that Jungkook has developed a crush on you.

"You're still watching videos of her?" Jin asks, but the taunting tone in his voice goes completely over Jungkook's head. He's too focused on the video.

"Yes. Do you want to watch?" Jungkook asks, offering an earphone for him innocently. Jin finds it impossible to resist the cuteness so he accepts it, taking it from his hand and putting it on as he wraps his arm around Jungkook's shoulders.

It's an interview, and you're sitting next to an actor he doesn't recognize.

"Who's that?" He asks Jungkook, pointing at the guy.

"I don't know." Jungkook shrugs, truly not caring even a tiny a bit about who the man is.

"Okay." Jin replies, shaking his head at Jungkook with a smile. There's really good chemistry between you and the man— you laugh together a lot, and he feels a spark of recognition at the back of his mind when he sees your smile, but he can't tell where it comes from.

"Have you seen their movie?" Jin asks, returning the earphone to its owner. Jungkook nods as he puts it back on.

"It's very good. I liked it."

So he has seen the movie, but he still doesn't know who the actor is at all? There might be a possibility that the crush is a bit more intense than Jin previously believed.

"What else has she worked on?" He pries, wondering if he's confusing you with someone else or if maybe he did see something you were on, even if it was in passing. There's something familiar about you and it's starting to annoy him to not know what exactly.

"Lots of things. Several movies. She was on a show when she began acting. I think her first job was on CSI or one of those American crime shows with a thousand seasons." Jungkook focuses on his video again and Jin pulls out his own phone, quickly searching for your name.

He opens your Wikipedia page and goes straight to Filmography, where he can see right there on the Television section that your first credit is actually CSI.

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

2013.

Oh, no.

The name of your character. Jin knows it. God, he'd recognize it anywhere. The name of the episode right next to it only serves to confirm what he's fearing.

He immediately types "[Y/N] CSI" and swallows a gasp when he sees the pictures that pop up in front of his eyes, careful to not alert Jungkook or the others.

Oh god, no.

Jin knows who you are very well. He hasn't really watched the episode you appeared on in a while, but he used to do it so often that he memorized exactly what happens every single second you're on screen.

Your hair was a different color and you were younger— that's why he didn't immediately recognize you. Back when you were on that episode it was futile to try and search for more of your work; CSI was your first role and he couldn't find any information about you at the time. He didn't really search for you again after that; he was very aware that shows like that have hundreds of guest actors that sometimes end up reduced to extras for the rest of their careers.

Well, this was clearly not the case for you.

The memories of the scenes he knows so well flash quickly on his mind, and he swallows with slight difficulty as he feels his ears getting hot.

Your hand is wrapped around the guy who plays your boyfriend's throat— and without showing too much it's clear you're on top of him while you have sex. His hands are tied with a scarf to the bed, and he's blindfolded.

"You like that, baby?" You whisper into the man's ear with a smile, biting his earlobe.

Jin shakes his head, trying to get rid of the very intrusive thought of you lovingly choking a guy during sex. He's in a van with the rest of the guys, the last thing he wants is for them to notice something is wrong.

He closes all the tabs and puts his phone away, moving his head to look out the window instead, hoping the sight of the buildings and streets will distract him. He's glad the whole BTS thing was a misunderstanding and you didn't actually meet them, because he has no idea how he'd react if he had you in front of him in real life.

How do you possibly greet the person you used to masturbate to on a daily basis?

If you’ve made it here: thank you so much for reading!

#sub!bts #sub!idol #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #park jimin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #kim taehyung x reader #if you've read this on ao3 don't worry it's me lmao #my work

280 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 5 years ago

Text

Pour Some Salt on Me || Matty and Kaden

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Soul on the Rocks PARTIES: @likeamattoutofhell and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Matty meets Kaden at the bar and deals with some of his baggage. AKA: Did someone order a Margarita? Extra salty?

It wasn’t often that Kaden spent a free night at a bar that wasn’t the Silver Bullet but he was always up for something new and different. Plus, for all he knew, he could be walking into a prime opportunity for hunting. Not to mention, he could always use a few more drinks to deal with everything that had happened in the past week. Mimes. Wings. Banshees. Werewolves. It was too much. He could use a normal night. The bar was loud. Very loud. It was going to take a lot for him to concentrate on any conversation and not get overwhelmed. He took a deep breath. It’d be fine, as long as he was prepared. He saw a guy at the bar, pretty sure on the end he was supposed to meet him. “You Matty?” he asked. “Kaden. Aka that guy whose dog found a fucking head the other week.” He almost added ‘not a mime-fucker’ but then he thought better of reminding anyone of that before needed. “How’s it going?

So. This had been a day, hadn’t it? Or, well. A night. But, at least some shit didn’t change. Soul on the Rocks was still standing, and nobody gave a crap how you came. Which was good, given that Matty looked a little like a half-drowned poodle, his hair still damp and curling, crazily, from his make-do shower at the pool. Whatever it took. Bit into his budget a little - man, everything cost more, these days - but he was two rounds into the special, and had enough left over for a few more. Solid. He’d just raised a hand for another when some… guy, sleek, sharp-faced, dropped onto the stool next-door. Kaden? Right. Maybe into mimes? According to the internet, but. Couldn’t believe everything you read, duh. “Yeah, that’s - yeah.” The vibes, on this poor bastard. “It’s… going, alright.” Why not shoot the shit? There was plenty of it. “Pipes in my place are, uh. Under reconstruction? Got real messed up last week, full of something fucked, I don’t know. At least the neighbors aren’t, you know, weirder than usual.” Which had been saying something, alright. But he’d draw a line, sure, at suddenly taking up miming. At other people. In the hallway. Matty shrugged, vaguely. “Same shit, different day, around here. How about you, man? What’s up?”

Kaden raised a brow and gave the guy a one over. “I can see that.” The guy looked rough, alright. Soaked and a little bedraggled. “Bad pipes, huh? What happened? Do you live anywhere near the funeral home by chance?” He almost asked if it was vampires or necrophages since that always seemed to be the cause of leaky pipes in buildings. Occasionally pixies. Usually dead things. But he thought better of it. That joke only landed in a hunter bar, really. He waved down the bartender and ordered a beer, wasn’t sure he trusted the liquor to be drinkable let alone mid shelf. “I’m alright. Less severed heads in my life so that’s been good.” A lot more wings and banshees and death but it was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. He gulped down a sizable portion of his drink. “I mean, yeah. It’s been a fucking week. Got attacked by the wo-- an animal in the woods the other night. Nearly fucking died. So I’m sure yours is going better than that. Least I hope so.”

Funeral home? Matty frowned, faintly, not sure what that was supposed to mean. “Don’t think so?” Hopefully that was a no. Not somewhere he needed, or wanted, to hang around. With actual corpses. “Just some shithole, you know what it’s like.” Fuck, it was a shame you couldn’t smoke in bars anymore. Still had some of that good weed, from Margot, kicking around. And he was itching for something, anything. Matty gave the bartender a seriously grateful nod as the next Moscow mule landed, shaking off a sudden, cold shiver. A bad one. God, he’d have to get ahold of Felix. Soon.

But. A couple drinks wouldn’t hurt, and the company probably wouldn’t. Jury was out, as of yet.

“Solid.” Less body parts flying around in general, the better, yeah? Elbow up on the scratched-to-shit counter, he took a long, needsome drink, hearing Kaden out. The wo-what? His head tilted, there, doing some wo-wondering. Not too much. His week. Where to start? With the waiting to find out if a couple super scary motherfuckers were going to duke it out to the death over at Hanging Rock, come the weekend? Hanging around a psychotic old-ass leech with fancy tastes? Getting thrown out of a tree by a bloodsucking... monkey, with iron teeth, or some shit? No, thanks. “Oh, totally.” Matty tossed off a tired sorta smile, and raised his glass. “Here’s to - death-defying, huh? Life goes on.” Close enough. “The hell were you doing in the woods, anyway? Nothing but crazy and mosquitoes out there, seriously…”

Kaden nodded at his current companion’s words. “Ah, not related to that then. Nevermind. But yeah, I do know how that goes. Surprised I don’t live in a complete dump here, but I got paid a little more than I’m used to when I took the job at Animal Control.” Out of the sheer desperation they had to fill the position. He felt a chill run through him before taking another sip of his beer. Strange, was the door open or something? He looked back but that was stuoid, it wasn't even that cold out anymore. Odd. Must have imagined it. Or the beer was just really cold.

“To deth-defying.” Kaden raised his glass in a toast and gave a small nod. And a wince as he lifted his arm. Side still hurt, he almost forgot, despite toasting his near death. “I was camping. Didn’t want to stay in my apartment any longer.” He gave a shrug. The details weren’t ones he was ready to dig up so soon. Or share in a bar. At least not this sober. “I’m also in animal control so I’m there a lot anyway. Got attacked by an animal.” Explaining what it was seemed unnecessary. Most people accepted “animal” right off the bat, anyway. “You ever had any near death experiences?

Lauren Langley couldn’t stand to watch this any more, this fraternizing with supernaturals that her son kept indulging in. He'd made his choice to turn away from his duty. He didn’t even do a basic check on this man to see the glaringly obvious. The man at the bar was obviously undead. Kaden should have been able to listen and hear the hollow emptiness where his heart should be beating. And yet he sat there, toasting, making small talk. Disgusting. Disgraceful. She could no longer contain the anger raging inside of her. She pushed out her power, let her anger extend outwards and the lights started to flicker, the sound cutting in and out, as she floated towards the man in question, standing between him and her son, glaring daggers at him that she knew he could see, the blood sucking filth that he was.

Animal Control. Okay, then. Matty’s eyebrows slid upwards, but, hey. Whatever paid the bills. Not like he could talk. “Well, hey. Nice.” Did he want to know about… dogcatching, or whatever this guy got up to? Not exactly, but - he’d always been curious. “Seems like a rough gig. Especially in this town, fuck...” Christ knew what kinda freaky shit Kaden had to deal with, on top of bears, and cougars, and rabid raccoons. Had to feel a little sorry for him, yeah?

Cheers, anyway. To camping, too, sure. Whatever the dude was into. “Cool, yeah. I get that, man. Space. Nice thing to have.” Matty drank. And twitched, as the electricity fritzed. Weird. He blinked, throwing an uncertain glance over the rest of the Rocks, watching as the jukebox glimmered in and out, the static sneering into his too-sharp ears. Near death. With a shook-out laugh, Matty turned back to try and field that one - only to find some lady. Some ghost lady, all silvery; more substantial than most, though. Nobody he knew. Right? No. He was pretty sure. But that stare. The grin was staggering away from him, on its last legs. “A… a couple…” Leaning back on his stool, Matty cleared his throat. Took another drink. “Animals, yeah.” He was stumbling, quailing under those eyes. Maybe they weren’t, you know, familiar, but. If looks could murder. Violently. “Maybe we oughta take this outside?” Matty winced, suddenly, sliding to his feet. Ghosts got stuck to places, didn’t they? “Just, seems we’ve got some… fucky wiring, in here. I mean, this joint’s probably a total fire-trap…”

Kaden froze, glass at his lips, as the electricity cut in and out. For half a second he wondered if this was just a result of shoddy wiring. This bar wasn’t exactly high end or upscale. But the shocked looks and startled reactions from everyone around him gave him the feeling this wasn’t a typical occurrence. Putain. He really wanted a night off from the supernatural. Didn’t look like he was going to get it. It seemed like his present drinking buddy was looking through him or around him. Hard to say for sure, but it didn’t seem like his eyes were meeting his. Hmm, maybe his near death experiences were a hell of a lot worse than Kaden’s. Shit, might have hit a nerve. “You alright?” he asked, brow raised as the guy started to freak out. “Yeah, I noticed.” Kaden glanced around the place, didn’t see anything else strange, but there was a bit of a cold spot as he stood to follow. “I’m guessing this isn’t normal for here. Got any better suggestions?” Bullet was out so he supposed it was another night at Dell’s. He shrugged as they headed outside, could be worse.

He wasn’t going to get away so easily. Lauren knew he saw her; he must know her feelings as well. Or at least sensed them. And she hadn’t even spoken yet. “Leaving so soon, vampire?” she asked, smirk on her face. “I wasn’t finished here.” Her voice was laced with venom, but it was still and even all the same, cold and poisonous at the same time. Once again, she pulled into her anger and used it to send the unused glasses from the bar exploding out in every direction, but most of the glasses aimed at the vampire. Unfortunately, her son, too. But he could tolerate the pain. And maybe it would give him a hint to either leave this loathsome creature or, better yet, kill it. She disappeared a moment and then flashed back in front of the vampire, spectral face inches from his. “My son may not put a stake through your heart. He’s gone soft, you see, but I sure will. Better yet, I’ll make sure he does.”

“Me? I’m good, yeah, just...” Haunted. “Honestly, I…” Matty trailed off, a shudder creeping down the back of his neck, all the way. That kind, he realized, now. He’d met his fair share of ghosts. Or, well, his unfair share, depending on how you looked at it. This one was - well, bad fuckin’ vibes, all over, was what she was. Why the hell was the vampire thing her problem? Matty tried to pin his attention down to Kaden, hurriedly tugging his ratty denim jacket on. They’d just fuck off, and he’d try the Rocks again… in a week. Or two. A month from now. Oh, that would blow.

Not as hard as the fuckin’ rain of glass that shattered over them. Matty had heard them rattling just in time to turn, barely soon enough to drop, shoving Kaden by the shoulder, turning his back into a storm of smashing tumblers and sharp edges. Ears ringing, hands shaking - bleeding, somewhere, he could smell it already - Matty gasped out of it, and pushed away across the sticky, glittering floor as the ghost gathered in front of him, face to face. Son? His eyes ticked to Kaden, quick. Back. Yeah, around the eyes, he could see it. Just his fuckin’ luck. Getting in the middle of some kinda family drama.

Wait. Wait, wait. Gone soft? Too soft for staking. Shit. Slayer family drama? Just his fuckin’ luck.

“Listen, I don’t - I don’t know you, or him, or… what your problem is, I...” What he did know, was salt. Salt for ghosts. How, specifically, not so sure. But the salt would be behind the bar - he’d downed enough tequila here to know. Behind the bar, where he was going, fast.

“Shit!” Kaden shouted as he saw the glasses rumble. He raised his hands to shield his head and found himself shoved down out of the way of the oncoming onslaught of glass. White hot pain from his side flashed through him as he twisted and ducked. After the deafening crashes of glass came the screams as patrons started bolting for any exit they could find. Couldn’t blame them. As Kaden stood up straight, his brow furrowed, another wince of a pain, and yeah that was definitely blood dripping along his hands. Fuck. “You o--” He started to ask his drinking buddy as he tried to evaluate the extent of his wounds. Minimal, thankfully. But his words cut short as the other man started speaking to the air.

“Who are you talking to?” Kaden asked, brows furrowed, and stomach sinking. He had a feeling he fucking knew who the hell it was he was talking to. Putain. Also that meant this guy could see ghosts. Well that narrowed it down a little. Medium maybe? Zombie? Wait what was he going for behind the bar? Shit, time to pull a knife out, just in case. He grabbed a standard blade first but started rummaging in his pockets. Had to have an iron one on him somewhere.

“Oh, how cute. The bloodsucker found the salt,” Lauren smiled and shook her head, arms crossed in front of her incorporeal body. “Do you really think that will stop me?” Lauren disappeared and sprung back next to Matty’s left, voice slithering right into his ear. “I need you to tell my son something, you filthy animated corpse. Before you turn to dust.” She vanished again and reappeared on his other side, eyes fixed on Kaden even though he couldn’t see her as she spit more venom into the vampire’s ear. “Tell him he should have been better. And that he’s all but proven he’s no son of mine.” Her visage was gone one more for the moment. With a loud crash, half the tables in the bar burst, sending drinks and food tumbling to the floor and wood shards flying in every direction. If that wasn’t a hint for her disgrace of a son, nothing would be.

Shit. Pawing around behind the counter, Matty was doing his best to think, clearly, with blood on the air. Human blood. He’d eaten earlier, but - pig, or something, whatever Nic had drained into those juiceboxes. Not enough to keep the good stuff from being distracting. “Uh…” He stammered, hearing Kaden. Asking a totally sensible kinda question, in the middle of something not sensible at all. There - pinch-bowls of salt. A couple went spilling onto the counter as Matty flinched, that chilling, creeping not-breath riding up his spine again, that hiss an itch across the back of his neck. Tell him.

Oh, this cow could eat it.

“Fuck off, Jesus!” He rasped, flinging a handful of the stuff. Where she’d been, anyway. God, usually ghosts were chill. Why’d he have to wind up drinking with some hunter who had poltergeist-grade baggage? Snatching up another desperate handful of salt, Matty glanced Kaden’s way. Or, almost. Everything went to shit, before he got a good look at the guy. Again. Worse. The back-mirror splintered and sheeted apart as pieces of table and chair stabbed through, into the wall, quivering furiously. “Your mom!” Shouting over the noise, Matty cowered behind the bar, panting hard and panicky from where he’d hit the dirt. “I swear, man - that’s what she says...” Why she felt the need to let him know, well. That, Matty sure as shit couldn’t answer.

Kaden was still fumbling for anything iron when the tables exploded. He dropped down and ducked, once again using his arms to shield himself. Fucking shit. This had to be an angry spirit, right? Shit, he was so far out of his depths here.

He shot up at the man’s words. “My mom?” His brow creased and he looked around, as if he’d be able to see her. “Putain de merde!” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He had a feeling that was the case. He really wished it wasn’t. Fucking fuck. “Circle yourself in salt!” he shouted

Wait. Did that mean?

No. That. No. It couldn’t be.

As soon as her son froze, Lauren knew he’d figured it out. She’d hoped that he would, maybe a little sooner, but her faith in him had waned. “Do it, mon petitou. Do it.” She whispered in his ear as if he could hear him. All she needed was for him to stake one measly vampire and then she could move on. Maybe.

Kaden shook off his stupor as he felt a chill creep down his spine. There’d be time to evaluate this later. Right now he needed a plan. And to figure out how to stop this. “Want to tell me why the fuck you can see ghosts?” he shouted to Matty. “And why my mother is pissed as shit at you. And me. But you seem like the cause here, too.”

Lauren could feel the rage building up inside her again. Why was he talking? Why wasn't he acting? She threw back her spectral head and screamed, pushing her anger out to shatter all the glass and windows. It lashed out and added more scrapes and cuts to her son’s body. She didn’t care anymore if her son bled. Maybe then this vampire would show its true nature and Kaden would remember that he was meant to fight monsters, not protect them.

Circle of salt. Right. Ghosts, couldn’t cross. Only, then he would be stuck, here, in deep with Langley, who - who, whatever he might be, had shit going on that Matty wanted fuck all to do with, frankly. No offense to the dude, just. No. Kicking some of the wreckage aside, Matty scrambled to draw that circle out, wincing as his supply ran a bit thin. It’d be enough, right? Maybe. He’d stretch it. Did he want to tell Kaden why he saw ghosts? Like hell, if Mama Langley’s hate-on said anything about how she’d raised her son. “It’s, uh - genetic!” Matty shouted back, a little frayed about it. Seemed to work for Nora. Though, Nora was a pretty shit standard for what totally normal people would believe. Obviously. Fuck.

The hot, spattery smell of blood sharpened up, suddenly, tugging at Matty’s teeth until his jaw ached. “I don’t know, man! Maybe she’s just a raging bitch?!” No, the guy didn’t need to hear what mommy dearest was going on about. He shook his head, woozy - a sluggish lick of dark blood dribbled down the side of his cheek, dead and cold. And tried to fix that fucking circle.

Kaden was getting fucking sick of playing duck and cover with a poltergiest. The wounds probably wouldn’t take too long to heal but it still stung. In more ways than one. “Genetic?” Had to be a medium then. Why the fuck was she so mad about a medium? Then his mind jumped to Blanche. Whatever it was, it had to do with her, right? And certainly Regan. There was no doubt there. Fuck. They had to get out of here, but he knew damn well his mother would follow him if they just cut and ran. He had no iron on him. And funny enough, rock bars weren’t exactly filled with it. He looked around on the floor, between the shattered tables and fallen plates, he saw something. A fucking margarita glass. Rimmed with salt. Plastic. Never been so happy to be at a cheap fucking bar. He grabbed it and started swinging it wildly, wielding it like a weapon. “When you see her disappear, fucking run!” he shouted, whirling around the room and waving the salt rimmed glass around.

The hell was Kaden up to? Peeking out around the counter corner, Matty strained to keep his boots in the circle and his eyes on the action. Which was something to see, for fuckin’ sure: Langley, swinging like a drunk playing pinata. Right across his shrieking-mad mom, the spiderwebby substance of her rending apart. And not coming back. For a beat, Matty couldn’t believe it. But, he didn’t have to. Unfrozen, he lurched alive and out - the shattered front window, the shortest path to away from all this. Stumbling wildly into the parking lot, Matty hit the asphalt at a sprint, with a skitter of glass, and didn’t stop. Not until he was far, far away from the blood, and that mess of a bar, and Kaden Langley’s totally batshit mommy issues.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #writing #pour some salt on me #matty #likeamattoutofhell #lauren langley

17 notes · View notes

alittleoptimistic · 5 years ago

Text

Psychic For Hire

A Buzzfeed Unsolved Fanfic

Summary: Shane is a psychic for hire working in LA, and sure, he’s a fake, but at least he’s telling people what they need to hear! That is, he thought he was fake. But after a strange accident, he has the oddest dreams… Meanwhile his old friend Ryan is researching his next greatest supernatural horror novel in the underbelly of the LA psychic scene and wondering how on earth you convince someone they might be psychic for real?

Trigger warning: violence, car accidents, cussing, dead people.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 2

Sometimes you’ve got to just be like, ‘well, okay, this is how today is gonna be.’ Ryan dropped his fifth quarter into the vending machine and blinked, long and slow at the options. He got lost for a second, his eyes focused on the reflection of ceiling lights and the waverly look of his own face in the glass. He had a bruise just beneath his left cheek, (coffee cup, he was pretty sure), and a cut on his upper arm. Pick a snack, he ordered. His arm lifted up and tapped in the numbers.

Chips, a slim jim. They clunked at the bottom and Ryan wandered toward room 247 A, where Shane lay sleeping. Ryan felt an odd calm. He should freak out, but he’d gone beyond that and now he floated in this haze while he waited for Shane to wake up.

The hospital room had vertical fabric blinds that let in a dirty evening light. When Ryan entered, Shane was sitting up in bed, gingerly poking at the small bandage over his left eyebrow. He’d been smacked pretty hard. Scary, hard. Ryan had never seen someone that pale before. They were lucky. His chest shuttered.

“Hey, big guy, you’re awake.”

Shane blinked at him, no trace of confusion in his eyes. He knew exactly where he was. Which was very typical of him, to be honest? He relaxed into a smile, apparently unperturbed by the whole situation. “You totaled my car. It’s like college all over again.”

“Fuck you,” Ryan threw the slim jim at him. “Don’t stick your head out the window like a dog.”

“I was throwing up. Christ, my head hurts. Am I okay? I feel okay?”

Ryan nodded. “You flew out the window, so everyone is super shocked that you are. They think you probably have a concussion, though, which sucks. You’re supposed to rest or whatever. They’ll probably be in here in a few minutes.”

And they were. A few more hours of pandering around, being poked, asking and answering questions, and getting prescriptions, and then, remarkably, they were on their way out. It was… wild. He’d been so scared, and now here they were, catching an Uber.

“I wonder what happened to the people who hit us.” Ryan mused as they watched the animated Uber car on his phone get closer and then miss them entirely.

Shane huffed. “He’s fine. Won't try to change his shirt while driving again, I’m guessing. Don’t worry about it.”

Ryan glanced up. “You don’t even-”

“Is that our guy? I think I see it. Purple Toyota? Purple Toyota, baby!”

The night slipped into a darker, deeper purple as they arrived at Shane’s suburban fever dream of a house. The brightest light by far was Shane’s neon PSYCHIC sign on the front window. Ryan found himself staring at it as they climbed out of the Uber, saying their goodbyes.

He wasn’t sure this was such a good idea anymore.

He had four months to come up with the first draft of a novel about the LA psychics, according to his publishers. Ryan was thinking about some kind of mix of Dead Zone and the celebrity lifestyle… if that was possible. It made sense to stay with Shane, do research the way he always did. Part of his angle was always the real-life research he did before writing anything. He wanted to give people as much truth as he possibly could. Shane was his best friend (or was , ten years ago) and Shane was a professional psychic. It would be stupid to pass up an opportunity like it. This was a strange thing for Shane to be, of course. Ryan remembered first hearing about Shane’s job through a mutual friend and he’d laughed and told them they were confused. Shane, a psychic? Shane was goddamn Doubting Thomas reincarnate.

It made sense, now that Ryan was here, talking to him. Shane wanted to be a therapist in school, but he had to quit midway through after… something. Ryan couldn’t remember what had happened exactly. Shane had told him they couldn’t room together next semester, and just like that, he disappeared off the face of the earth. Ryan got the impression any questions about this were very off-limits, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. The point was, the way he explained it, Shane managed to find a way to be a therapist without technically having a license.

It didn’t make him any less of a con artist, obviously, and it put an honest horrible taste in Ryan’s mouth. He’d rather not know about any of it than have to recalibrate who he thought his friend was. He couldn’t tell any of this to Shane. And he needed the room. Not to mention, it was going to be great for his book. What better insight to this side of LA then through the eyes of someone who knew all the tricks. Then, Ryan could find the real ones, couldn’t he? Or, he could try.

Shane unlocked the front door. He was talking casually about nothing in particular and Ryan laughed in response without really hearing the words. Shane’s house was simply ordered, a single hallway down the center with a living room and open kitchen to the left, and the closed-off office to the right. Two bedrooms further down the hall, and a bathroom at the end. Apparently, Shane used the other bedroom to do video work? Editing had always been a hobby of his, something he and Ryan bonded over originally. “I’ve got a foldout couch in there you can use, ” he told him.

They met around the breakfast counter and Shane poured him a glass of something. Ryan frowned. “I don’t think you should drink if you have a concussion.”

“I’m going to have a headache tomorrow either way,” Shane answered.

“Wh- no, Shane, Jesus-”

Shane took a sip and gave him a put on look. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You drink. You’re all shaky still.”

Ryan wanted to tell him he was not shaky, thank you very much. Instead, he picked up the glass and did so. Surprised, he took another sip. “This is… really good.”

“Gift from a friend,” Shane hummed, sitting down on the tall chairs. His feet still touched the ground, and Ryan realized a moment later, his own did not.

“You have friends?”

Shane rolled his eyes, amused, and then winced. He could brush it off all he liked, but his head was definitely hurting him. “Got me there. A client, then. Lilly Keller.”

Ryan choked on the wine.

“Wait. Like, the Lilly Keller?” Lilly Keller, the famous actress, winner of multiple oscars at the young age of twenty-three. Lilly Keller, America’s newest heartthrob. Ryan’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t just- Frick, dude, you’re Lilly Keller’s psychic?” Shane gave him a cheeky grin. “She’s a sweet girl. You can come with me to a session if you like.”

“ If I like? Who else do you know? Do you know Leonardo Dicaprio? Please say you-”

“She’s the only celebrity, don’t get too excited!”

Ryan was about to reply when headlights shot through the room from the front window. They were inordinately bright, especially since he and Shane hadn’t turned on more lights than the small one over the stove. The car faced them, unmoving. The headlights flipped on and off and on again with deliberation.

Ryan held up a hand to squint at it. “What the hell?”

Shane didn’t say anything.

“Shane?”

Ryan looked at him. Shane was stiff, his face blank. He set the glass down with a clink on the counter. “...shit…”

Ryan’s breath caught. “Is something wrong?”

Shane raised his eyebrows, meeting his eyes suddenly. “Naw. Just something I’ve gotta do. You wait in here.” Without another word, Shane crossed the kitchen and opened the door of his office. Ryan stayed at the counter, too shocked to do anything but obey.

Maybe this really was a bad idea.

Shane cursed in the dark of his office as he pushed aside a few books on his bookshelf to reveal the safe hidden behind. He opened the dial quickly. Inside lay a pile of jewelry, some watches, other important documents, and piles of cash. It wasn’t all his technically. He got rent from several other psychics around the area and then delivered a portion of his and theirs to the person above him.

Shane counted the bills, fumbling. His head pounded like it was shrinking around his brain. There was no way he was going to get around avoiding explaining this to Ryan. With a sigh, he straightened, closed the safe, and walked to the front door. Ryan met his gaze and his eyes widened when he saw the money in Shane’s hand. Shane didn’t have anything to put it in or else he would have. Shane didn’t respond. He already knew Ryan was scared. It was bleeding off him like sweet sick. Fear and disappointment.

Shane had a knife in his back pocket just in case as he walked down his sidewalk. It was wet from the sprinklers. Just at the end of the driveway sat a black, shiny car, windows thick.

The moment he saw it, his headache pulsed worse. But he relaxed. His shoulders dropped and he picked up his pace. Thank God…

The window rolled down as he got closer.

“Good evening, Jack.”

Jack, a black-haired kid with a pointy nose and bruised eyes, leaned into the streetlight so he was visible. “How’d you know it was me?”

Shane handed him the cash. “The way you park? I dunno. Wasn’t expecting you tonight. I thought you guys weren’t coming till the twentieth? Where’s Hera?”

“She’s at a party. Apparently she has some big meeting in the twentieth. She told me to come collect early.”

“Well, you’re lucky I had extra meetings this week.”

“ You’re lucky.”

Shane wasn’t scared of Jack. He wasn’t a bad kid, all things considered. It wasn’t his fault his family was batshit crazy. Shane smiled and drummed his fingers on the top of the car. “Well, tell Hera I said hello.”

“Will do.” Jack turned the car back on, putting the money on the passenger seat. He nodded toward Shane’s head. “Someone get ya?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. Car accident earlier today.”

“Aw, that sucks. They give you morphine?” Shane blinked at him. “A little. Gave me crazy dreams.”

The kid grinned a wide, toothy smile. One of his teeth was gold. “Nice. Thanks, bitch. See ya. Hera said she wants you to start taking in the money yourself or she’ll kick your ass.”

Shane opened his mouth to protest. Then he shut it. He managed something like a smile. “Fine. Stay safe, Jack.”

“Whatever, voodoo man.” With that, Jack rolled up the window and slunk the car down the street.

Shane hesitated in his front yard. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was... so tired.

And Ryan was peeking through the blinds. Of course, he was.

Shane turned around and met Ryan’s eyes immediately, startling the man into dropping the blinds and disappearing. It would be funny in other circumstances. Suddenly, he didn’t want to stay up and drink with his friend anymore. His headache was only getting worse and Ryan was worry pacing in his living room like an anxious cat.

Shane made it back to the kitchen. He rubbed the back of his neck. His body ached. The pain medication must have been wearing off. “Well, you wanted to know what it's like being a psychic in LA...” He laughed.

Ryan stood stiff, his hands trembling. “Who was that?” Shane ignored the question. “My head is killing me. Can we… I'm sorry, can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Ryan wavered. “Are you in danger?”

Shane waved the question away in dismissal. “Naw, calm down. My boss likes me.” He knew Ryan was brimming with questions, but they had a whole two months at least to get answers to them, and Shane was having a hard time focusing now. He walked out, down the hallway. “I set out the blankets and pillows on the bed in there.”

Ryan didn’t have a choice really, but he relented and followed. “... Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow?”

Shane turned at his door. “Duh? Night, Ryan.”

“... night.”

Shane put the door between them as quickly as he could. He was being totally unfair, but he really didn’t have the energy to explain. He sat down on his bed, took his shoes off, and then lay flat on the covers for a minute, thinking he’d get up and change any second. His body was heavy, and he was very aware for no reason in particular that he was a creature inside it.

Shane sat in the passenger seat as the car whizzed the highway. The radio played Miley Cyrus’s ‘The Climb’. Shane turned his head. He recognized the feeling, the thickness of the air like moving through dough. In the driver seat, Jack sang not-so-well, but earnestly, as he drummed his hands on the wheel. The sight made Shane smile. Jack wouldn’t be caught dead listening to something like this.

Shane stood in a bookshop, looking up at the reflection of a book on the inside of a display. ǝɿiH ɿoꟻ ɔiʜɔγƨꟼ. A dark-haired man passed by.

Rapid images passed his eyes. A girl cried in her bathroom, a man and a woman fought in a kitchen. A plate broke. The images passed faster and faster until he couldn’t distinguish them. Everything was too quick, too much information all at once. His stomach began to ache.

Then he was laying on cold marble tiles. Heels clicked past his ear. Above him, marble arches stretched into a dome centered by a massive chandelier that shone like the damn sun. He tried to sit up and managed to turn his head instead. Gravity was too heavy. A familiar woman opened the front door. She wore a mink fur shawl over a nightgown, clearly heading toward the bed. “Jack. you look like shite, honey, why doesn’t your mama dress you properly.”

“Got the money, auntie.”

A pause. “Excuse me?”

Jack stepped back. Shane could see his sneakers. “I have the money, auntie Hera, Ma’am.”

He gave it to her and she hummed. “You told him to come here?”

Jack nodded.

“It’s about time we initiated that dry ass fucker… I’ve never seen a more well-behaved pet.” She leaned forward and pulled Jack down so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“Aw, ugk, auntie- auntie, he’s paying fine, I don't see why you’ve gotta-”

She grabbed his cheek, a little rougher than she ought to have. “How about you run along and let the adults do the thinking, Jackie dear. Have a goodnight, tell your mama she’s a whore.”

“Okay, auntie.”

Shane was listening so closely, he almost didn’t notice until it was too late. The stone crept around his legs and up to his body. He screamed as he fell into the marble.

Concrete surrounded him. He couldn’t breathe. Coldwater rushed at his back. Suddenly he dropped into water, tumbling, slamming into walls. It was so cold. He gasped and flailed and-

Jumped up out of sweat-soaked sheets.

Shane choked on nothing, shivering, breathing rapidly. His whole body hurt. He was battered and bleeding and-

No, no he wasn’t. What kind of nightmare…

Shane scrubbed his face and hissed in pain at the cut over his eye. Sunlight streamed in from the window. A few moments passed, and his heartbeat slowed.

The door rattled. Ryan poked his head in, hair tousled. “Yo, you want eggs?”

Yes, he did.

Man, concussions sure were weird.

________________________________________________________________

previous to be continued....

#buzzfeed unsolved #buzzfeed unsolved fanfic #bfu fanfic #ryan bfu #shane bfu #au #mob boss #psychic #LA #crime scene #ryan and shane #story #multi chapter #dreams #nightmare #fortune teller

21 notes · View notes

onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years ago

Link

Plea for My New Self

Sanders sides Vampire College AU - it’s gay - it’s full of fun fluffy tropes - a bit o’ hurt/comfort - mostly fluff

Words: 5,659 Warnings: Arguing, Violence, Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Thomas, Remy, Joan, Talyn Ships: Prinxiety, Anxceit, Roceit, Analogical, Remile, Joan&Talyn Universe: Plea for my New Self Rating: T Genre: Vampire Nonsense and Drama

Chapter 30: Full Moon in Scorpio

Chapter 1 for New Readers - ffn mirror

“Jesus Christ Superstar, is this whole thing our room?” Roman asked, stepping into the hotel room in awe, looking around and taking a spin on the polished floors.

“It’s just a step or two below a presidential suite or something. I don’t know the lingo, I just needed a place with a big enough living room,” Virgil shrugged. Roman called out to listen to his voice echo.

“Oh, my gosh, I have to sing in here,” Roman declared, spinning into the living room and started singing A Whole New World from Aladdin. It echoed off of the marble enchantingly. Virgil waited and in the doorway, holding it open for Patton and Logan who took the elevator. Patton smiled and waved at Virgil when they turned the corner and Virgil waved back.

“A whole new world! A new fantastic point of view!” Roman loudly crooned as he danced around on the glinting tiles.

“Oh, he sounds so good!” Patton cooed as they stepped in, making a bee-line to the table to put their takeout food down. Virgil offered his hand to Logan when he strode up and Logan took it. They walked into the hotel room together, and Logan looked around with interest.

“This seems a bit much just to watch movies in, Virgil,” Logan said after slowly examining the room.

“It’ll be more comfortable for me, there will be lots of beings here,” Virgil said and squeezed Logan’s hand. “I don’t suppose I can have a hug?” Virgil asked and Logan nodded. Virgil pulled Logan in and kissed the top of his hair gently. “You’re sure you’re okay being in the same room with all these vampires? I honestly don’t mind taking you back to the dorms,” Virgil reminded him. He was confused when Logan said he wanted to come. He’d be a lamb in a den full of super-powered wolves, but his curiosity was greater than his survival instinct, it seemed.

“I’m confident you wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I find the entire event intellectually fascinating,” Logan said, sounding excited and nodding brightly. Virgil heard Patton giggling and looked over to see Roman was dancing around the living room with them, now singing Once Upon A Dream. “I admit the concept is odd that I will be the only fully human person in the room, though,” Logan didn’t let go of Virgil and turned to watch the two dance around the suite. Virgil kissed Logan’s temple affectionately and Logan nestled in, looking amused at Roman and Patton’s antics.

“Let me go unlock the balcony and show them where to land. Feel free to claim a room, there’s plenty. Just put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and people should get the message,” Virgil pointed to a small pile of signs on a side table under an ornate mirror.

“I look forward to utilizing the hot tub,” Logan smiled and slid out of Virgil’s arms, squeezing his hand before heading off to explore the hotel suite. Virgil headed to the balcony, passing Roman holding Patton princess-style and spinning around the room while Patton squealed in delight. Roman’s voice echoing against the walls as he sang was captivating. He winked at Patton while he passed them and Patton giggled and stuck out their tongue playfully.

Virgil unlocked the large glass doors and stepped out on to the wide stone balcony. There was a sunken fire pit and a seating area out here, along with a small garden of flowers near the windows and a long thin pool. Virgil snapped a quick photo of the balcony and flitted up to the top of the hotel, taking a picture of the overhead. He jumped back down on to their patio and marked up the photo, then sent the two off to everyone else. The first one to come from above was Remy with Thomas over one shoulder and Emile over the other. He landed silently and put down Thomas and Emile, and Emile handed him a cup of iced coffee.

“Hecate, dude, you’re not worried about getting attacked or something with your arms full?” Virgil asked incredulously.

“I don’t need to worry about that kind of stuff, babe,” Remy set down a smiling Emile, and a very ruffled looking Thomas, who tried to fix his hair in the window’s reflection as soon as he got down. He had one of those pocket flip combs that were popular in the 50s.

“Nice to meet you, Virgil! I’m Emile!” He beamed, holding out his hand for Virgil to shake. Virgil hesitated before shaking his hand. He wasn’t used to doing it anymore. His old life was blessedly far away now. Emile’s smile was very reassuring, and he had a kind face. He also had bubble-gum pink hair, which Virgil did not expect. It suited him, though. He was dressed like a dad in slacks and a soft tan cardigan. This being Remy’s type was also something Virgil did not foresee.

“Hey,” Virgil said nonchalantly. “It’s good to see you again, Rem. I’m surprised we haven’t had to beat the shit out of each other yet, considering how close I am to Thomas,” Virgil motioned with his head to Thomas who was walking back over. He looked very put together and not like he had been lugged over a shoulder for a few miles. He wore a white button-down over a graphic tee and black jeans, which he admittedly looked fantastic in.

“I’m probably far enough from campus, we live in a condo downtown. We’re out of range of little Thomathy most of the time,” Remy shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “I’m still happy to for fun, though,” Remy winked. “We’ll have to tonight, anyway, with my other Blood here,” Remy mused and Emile moved to lean against Remy on the wall. “Do you only just have the one turned? That’s wild. I’ve got way more than Joan and Talyn, they’re just the only ones that stuck by,” Remy asked curiously, his eyebrow arched over his mirrored sunglasses.

“I don’t keep track of them if we weren’t romantically involved. I could have more, I don’t remember,” Virgil shrugged and shook his head.

“Are you feeding on your Brood yet?” Remy smirked. He dusted off his red leather jacket absentmindedly. Emile leaned affectionately into his arm and stole a sip of his coffee.

“Ro got me drunk and tricked me into it,” Virgil grimaced a little as he joked. He was still a little bitter about it he agreed that perhaps he was being extra again.

“Darling, that’s not what happened,” Deceit purred, pulling Virgil in from behind right after he landed.

“He’s right, Deceit tricked me,” Virgil laughed more genuinely and angled his head to kiss Deceit. Deceit hummed happily as he flipped Virgil’s hair out of the way.

“How’s business, Remington?” Deceit asked, wrapping himself around Virgil and rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. His cane held in front of Virgil, resting under Deceit’s hand with his normal level of class and panache.

“Very good, thanks. Made a shit-ton off your boy. You seriously wear a suit and bring a cane to movie nights?” Remy asked, motioning to Deceit incredulously.

“I’m not a savage,” Deceit smirked and kissed Virgil’s neck, tapping his cane on the ground dramatically.

“People think I’m batty,” Remy rolled his eyes and pulled his mouth to the side. “So, remember any fun memories now that you’ve gotten the good stuff?” He asked provocatively.

“Hmm, just some forgotten vocabulary and how to fish for some reason. I can’t believe I ever fished,” Virgil shrugged dismissively. He was hoping for something more fun, too.

“You were probably looking for an excuse to go out to sea and hangout with merpeople,” Deceit laughed playfully and kissed his neck again.

“They know how to rock, what can I say? Their instruments don’t work above water,” Virgil said defensively, flicked at Deceit’s side. Deceit dodged it with an evil grin.

“You might have been in a merperson band or something, I wouldn’t put it past you,” Deceit teased lightly. Virgil softened quickly as Deceit carded his fingers through Virgil’s hair affectionately.

“Oh, Hecate, girl, that must of fucking hurt to grow,” Remy said, possibly just noticing Virgil’s hairstyle.

“My clan likes to heckle me and bully me into things,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms and slightly motioning his head to Deceit.

“You look so good with long hair. I think you should grow it longer,” Deceit cooed and leaned in to press a kiss behind Virgil’s ear.

“It’s the least practical thing on the planet to have knee-length hair, D,” Virgil groaned in objection, shaking his head.

“I’ll get him to do it by the end of the night, just watch me,” Deceit smiled impishly and nibbled affectionately at Virgil’s neck. “Oh! Thomas! My Child!” Deceit released Virgil swiftly and picked up Thomas to spin him around in the air, holding him up with both hands.

“Did you adopt my omega without telling me?” Remy sipped his drink with a raised eyebrow, looking very amused at the baffled expression Thomas made.

“He’s just so young,” Virgil smiled affectionately. “We want to buy him things and spoil him,” Virgil rubbed his hands together mischievously.

“He is baby,” Remy smirked at Thomas knowingly and he turned a little pink.

“I’m not baby!” Thomas groaned, jumping out of Deceit’s arms and landing a few feet away from him on the patio.

“You have so many dads now, Thomas!” Emile clapped in delight. Deceit smiled wickedly and leaned against the wall.

“Emile, gross, don’t call Remy my dad,” Thomas rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, sticking out his tongue in distaste.

“Oh, daddy is okay, though?” Remy grinned darkly and winked at Thomas, who blushed wildly and shot straight in an instant.

“I’m saying hi to Roman now, bye!” Thomas ran inside in embarrassment, causing Virgil and Deceit to cackle.

“He’s so fucking cute,” Remy chuckled and shook his head affectionately. “Babe, you should order room service. Joan will be thirsty and Logan will make Thomas thirsty eventually,” Remy pat Emile on the butt. Remy cracked his knuckles. “We might also have a visitor,” He added cryptically.

“What? I don’t smell anybody,” Virgil said, looking around frantically for any sign of another vampire.

“Might, babe,” Remy smirked. “We’d win, it’s whatever. I just really want to crack somebody’s face in,” Remy motioned a punch with his free hand and flashed his fangs.

“I keep wanting to throw people off roofs, so I’d love to do that if you’ll share,” Virgil said sinisterly, silently cracking his knuckles in his fist.

“Don’t worry babe, I get it,” Remy nodded sagely and sipped his drink.

“What vampire would be dumb enough to go where there are obviously two clans congregated,” Deceit hissed, walking back behind Virgil and resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder. “The smell here is ridiculous,” Deceit said, and the repulsion in his voice was clear. It really was bad. Virgil was ready to snap somebody’s neck, the scent was so powerful.

“Maybe they want to fight and assume we’re fighting and not just watching humans get murdered for sport,” Virgil reached up to stroke Deceit’s face. “Speaking of, are Joan and Talyn almost here?” Virgil asked inquisitively.

“Yeah, they’re closing in,” Remy took a long sip of his drink and set it down on the patio.

“Do you feel like working a little of this out now before everybody’s here?” Virgil smiled viciously and flashed his fangs at Remy.

“Babe, you know it,” Remy chuckled darkly and came at Virgil without hesitation. Deceit cleared away in a shot and Remy picked up and threw Virgil into the air, trying to go in for a kick, but Virgil grabbed him in the leg and tossed him back down to the ground, landing a hit with his knee on Remy’s chest.

“Woah, woah, what the fuck guys?” Roman ran out yelling.

“They’re just playing love,” Deceit purred, pulling Roman into his arms and backing against the wall while Remy flipped Virgil and socked him right in the jaw. Virgil snarled and kneed him in the stomach, and Remy sent him flying again.

“That doesn’t look like fucking playing!” Roman shot while Remy landed a kick in Virgil’s back with a malicious laugh.

“I’m-” Virgil got hit in the chest and lost his breath, but punched Remy hard enough to send him sailing back in return. “Fine, Ro, we’re just-” Remy came back and flipped Virgil onto the patio, knocking the wind out of him. Virgil had to catch himself before breaking the stones and used the momentum to launch Remy off the roof. Remy hissed and flung himself back at Virgil, and they both went tumbling and wrestling for dominance again. Emile cheered excitedly with his arms in the air.

“The playfight is making it easier to sit in the same room together, dear,” Deceit kissed Roman’s cheek. Deceit paused, looking confused, and then grimacing. “… Roman, you didn’t tell Patton we are seeing each other, yet? They’re freaking out for two reasons now. Logan has the good sense to keep them indoors, at least,” Deceit sighed.

“Uh, whoops,” Roman muttered, rubbing his head sheepishly.

“Hey, Remy,” a person an orange knitted cap landed on the balcony while Remy waved and connected another punch to Virgil’s face. They were dressed casually in jeans and a black shirt with a big chunky watch. Virgil hissed and flipped Remy over, slamming his knee into Remy’s solar plexus.

“Are they giving you trouble or is that Virgil?” A smaller person with bright lavender hair landed next to the one with the orange beanie. They wore a crop top, asymmetric shorts, and high boots and looked very fashionable compared to the other.

“That’s Virgil,” Deceit provided, looking like he was keeping Roman safely in place. Roman was scowling and sometimes pushing at Deceit to move his arms, but Deceit held him firmly, which Virgil was grateful for. Remy was enough of a handful as it is. The fight was evenly matched so far. They were both holding back but keeping like that when his throat was right there was difficult and he didn’t want the distraction of one of his Brood in danger.

“Woah, Deceit? What the fuck are you doing here?” The person in the orange beanie asked, looking surprised and leaning back.

“I’m Virgil’s Blood. Don’t go advertising that,” Deceit said disdainfully. “Darling, you’ll need to stop soon and show Patton and Logan you’re okay or they might actually have a panic attack,” Deceit informed him plainly and motioned with his hand to the interior of the hotel.

“Shit,” Virgil hissed, punching Remy in the back of the head. Remy spun around and his eyes flashed brighter red for a millisecond.

“Boo!” Remy whined, grabbing Virgil’s shoulders and yanking him down over his kneecap. Virgil let that be the last hit and fell to the patio after Remy dropped him unceremoniously. He got up off the ground and dusted himself off. Remy laughed and patted himself off as well, going back over to pick up his drink. Patton came running out on to the veranda and immediately stared fussing over Virgil.

“Are you okay? Oh my god! Why did- Ugh! You’re a meanie!” Patton shot angrily at Remy and glared at him before grabbing Virgil and surveying for damage. Picking a fight with a rival alpha vampire was not the best idea, but Virgil appreciated their spunk.

“I guess I should have been more clear on the way here,” Virgil rubbed his head and pulled Patton in for a hug. Patton hugged Virgil tightly, pressing their face hard into his chest.

“Virgil, why in the world were you fighting like that? You terrified me!” Logan bellowed, pointing to Remy. Remy just rolled his eyes as he sipped his drink and Virgil cringed. Oh, he fucked up spectacularly.

“You didn’t warn them?” Emile asked incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows at Virgil. “Virgil, apologize to your friends right now,” Emile said angrily, motioning to Logan and Patton.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Virgil held up his hands, but Patton stayed clinging on. “I didn’t know my heads up wasn’t enough, I’m not used to talking to humans about this stuff. I didn’t mean to scare you. Remy and I are fine. Claws and fangs were not involved,” Virgil reassured them.

“I would have loved to sink my teeth into you,” Remy huffed, sounding disappointed and glowering at Virgil.

“Me too,” Another hiss broke out from Virgil which caused Patton to flinch slightly but not let go.

“Boys, I know the instincts are loud, but please focus,” Emile said firmly and Virgil fought back a snarl towards Remy. Remy looked like he was doing the same. They probably didn’t fight enough.

“Listen, Remy’s an alpha. We’re sort of wired for killing each other. It’s what the whole territorial thing is about. We were blowing off some steam. I promise we’re both fine. We didn’t want this evening to devolve into a deathmatch. I’m sincerely sorry I wasn’t more clear on what vampire instincts meant. I should have warned you more clearly we were going to fight to try to trick our wiring. I won’t do it again,” Virgil explained quickly, trying to apologize.

“Good job, Virgil. Patton, Logan? Do you have anything to say to Virgil?” Emile directed them.

“Don’t scare me like that again!” Patton sniffled and Virgil pulled them up into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Pat,” Virgil apologized sincerely.

“I accept your apology, Virgil. Thank you for understanding. I would appreciate further information for the future so we can avoid these misunderstandings,” Logan said, sounding stiff. Virgil grimaced slightly. He must have broken Logan’s trust for him to talk like that again. That hurt, but Logan was willing to forgive him. It was entirely Virgil’s fault, and he couldn’t blame Logan for being upset.

“I know. Sorry, Logan. I forget what is and isn’t common knowledge sometimes. Maybe you could prepare some questions for me?” Virgil offered sheepishly.

“I think that would be acceptable,” Logan nodded, crossing his arms. He at least didn’t look that angry, just upset.

“He is battier than me,” Remy rolled his eyes and gestured dramatically.

“Remington, you feed on me all the time. Virgil has been trying to respect his friend’s boundaries. It’s considerate of him,” Emile chided Remy firmly.

“No, no, I’m batty, I know I am,” Virgil laughed slightly, still too upset with himself to genuinely laugh.

“And Roman! When did you start dating D?” Patton said, pushing Virgil’s chest. Oof. Pat’s on the warpath. Virgil slid Patton down and Patton marched over to Roman sourly.

“Are they always like this?” The one in the orange beanie whispered to Thomas.

“I have no idea, but I’d kill for some popcorn,” Thomas whispered back behind his hand.

“I, uh, the night we got the dancing video we were going to watch. I’m sorry, I was drunk and kind of forgot about telling you,” Deceit smirked and kissed Roman’s temple, releasing him.

“You were drunk?” Patton yelled, perhaps even more upset now, and stomped right into Roman’s face. Roman held up his hands and backed up. Virgil was impressed at the amount of tiny fury Patton contained and was sincerely glad it wasn’t aimed at himself anymore. He still felt bad for Roman, who looked completely blindsided by the whole event.

“Holy shit, this is better than a soap opera,” The orange beanie-wearing vampire whispered.

“I know,” The one with the lavender hair whispered back, looking incredibly bemused.

“I didn’t get cast as Semptimus or Bernard because of some stupid rule about freshman not playing leads and wanted to have fun instead of moping all evening,” Roman explained himself defensively, holding up his hands. Logan also looked upset at Roman, which was surprising.

“Roman, you are eighteen, that’s illegal!” Patton shot, pointing a finger at him assertively.

“I’m pretty certain most of the people out here are illegal, that doesn’t make their existence wrong,” Roman said warily. Oh, wow, he could almost hear a sports commentator shout ‘powerful misdirection by the defense’!

“Huh,” Logan looked considerate for a moment. “I suppose you’re right,” Logan moved up one of his crossed arms to his chin with interest.

“Logan, don’t you agree with him!” Patton said angrily, shooting Logan a glower.

“Patton, the laws are created for those in power, not necessarily with the best interests of every being in mind. There are plenty of unjust rules. As long as Roman doesn’t make a habit out of it, I don’t think it’s significantly more objectionable than Virgil’s very presence in human society, which you are fine with,” Logan explained evenly. Oh, the misdirection landed! Fantastic play by the defense! Deceit arched his eyebrow curiously at Virgil who just shrugged. He had very little control of what was going on up there and had little explanation for it. Roman made him watch the Olympics recently, so that may have contributed, but he had long since accepted that he was batty.

“Thanks? I think?” Virgil responded, but he was not entirely sure what was happening.

“Damn, this kid should do law,” The one with lavender hair whispered in awe. Patton made a frustrated noise and Deceit pulled them close and spoke quietly right into their ear.

“Young man,” There was a chorus of sputtered laughter at that angry declaration from Patton. “Don’t think I forgive you for being an accessory to Roman’s crimes,” Patton huffed, sounding less distressed.

“His crimes? Darling, please, he had some whiskey. It’s a forgivable offense. You’re upset because you don’t want him to hurt himself,” Deceit corrected Patton and took their hand. That assuredly wasn’t the complete story, but Patton must want to keep it private.

“I-” Patton cut themselves off quickly. “I am,” Patton muttered, drooping slightly.

“It’s reasonable to be scared for your friend’s health, Patton. It’s okay that you’re angry at him for taking unnecessary risks. But Roman was with people who love him and surely made sure that he was safe, right?” Emile asked gently.

“Of course, we made him drink a ton of water and he had two dinners. Roman was barely even hungover the next day,” Virgil attempted to placate Patton. Roman really did have so many pancakes he hated himself and a serious amount of water.

“I wasn’t!” Roman piped up and corroborated Virgil’s story, sounding hopeful.

“It was a misunderstanding, but I think it would be healthy to apologize to each other, anyway,” Emile smiled reassuringly and nodded to Roman.

“I’m sorry I made you worry, Pat,” Roman apologized dejectedly. He sounded very sincere and looked down to the patio.

“And I’m sorry I yelled,” Patton muttered back, walking over to hug Roman. Roman wrapped his arms around Patton and pet their hair. They both seemed much better already, and that impressed Virgil. Roman was the type to fume, and Patton rarely let things go easily.

“Great! Let’s go watch movies, yeah?” Emile chirped brightly, motioning with both arms to head inside. Okay, wow, having him around was actually pretty awesome.

“Thanks, Emile,” Virgil sighed in relief.

“Anytime, Virgil! Especially during my office hours!” Emile chimed with a knowing smile aimed directly at Virgil.

“Ugh!” Virgil groaned loudly in objection. Hopefully, he’d drop it.

“Uh, well, that was a fucking event! I’m Joan,” The one in the orange beanie provided.

“I’m Talyn,” The lavender haired one added.

“I like your hair, Talyn,” Patton said shyly.

“Thanks, I think you’re rocking that pastel rainbow, too,” Talyn offered. Patton blushed slightly. “We both use they/them,” Talyn motioned between themself and Joan.

“I do too,” Patton smiled.

“Roman, he/him. Glasses over there is also he/him,” Roman said, holding open the door for everybody to go inside.

“My name is Logan,” he narrowed his eyes at Roman but seemed to let it go. “Virgil, are you feeling anything different today?” He asked mildly.

“I’m don’t have any feelings about it at the moment,” Virgil shrugged. “Whatever you want to call me,” Virgil walked in and settled on the floor in front of the couch. Patton crawled up behind him and started playing with his hair again. Deceit quickly claimed Virgil’s lap with a smug smile.

Roman examined a pile of movies left on the coffee table and Logan went to the dinner table and pulled out his food to eat, though he angled himself to watch the TV. Roman flipped through the movie cases with a disgusted look while Remy flopped on the couch, leaning against the arm and pulled Emile into his lap. Thomas sat next to Patton and Joan and Talyn claimed the recliners next to the couch.

“Pat, don’t you want to eat your pizza while it’s hot?” Virgil asked. He wasn’t bothered by Patton playing with his hair, but didn’t want Patton to forget about their food.

“Just let me do one hairstyle first,” Patton said, very focused and tugging at Virgil’s hair. Patton was excited about the pizza, so Virgil was vaguely flattered that they’d rather play with his hair.

“Did you want to watch one of these movies first or would you like a few minutes of Virgil and Deceit fancy-dancing? Patton and Logan have been wanting to see it. I only just finished editing it today,” Roman asked the room, holding up the movie cases and a USB drive.

“Show us the fun dance that Virgil’s so embarrassed about,” Remy smirked. Virgil shot Remy a glower, but he just looked amused. Emile looked very interested as well, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, that’s chill. Then I want to see the one with the ghosts,” Joan piped up and shared his opinion.

“Nice,” Roman nodded and slid the flash drive into the side of the large TV. “You think I can see the TV from the hot tub?” He asked curiously as he came around for the remote.

“Babe,” Remy said stoically, looking intense. “Yes. Let’s fucking hot tub,” Remy said keenly, picking up Emile. He put Emile down on the couch and headed over to the hot tub. Emile chuckled and scooted closer to Virgil.

“I will wait until an hour after eating,” Logan said, enjoying a slice of pizza.

“Will you be able to hear through the jets?” Patton asked as Roman trotted off to his bag.

“It’s fine if I can’t. I’ve heard the music before, I’ve watched it a million times editing it,” Roman said, pushing the big button near the hot tub and turning on the bubbles. Roman waved his swim trunks and disappeared into one of the doors in the suite. Remy just stripped down on the spot and climbed in, looking very satisfied as he sank into hot water.

“Did you want to play with some, too, Emile?” Patton’s bubbly voice came from behind Virgil, and it felt like they were offering a handful of hair to Emile.

“It sure does look fun. Would that be okay with you, Virgil?” Emile asked considerately, sounding fascinated.

“Sure, whatever,” Virgil shrugged. He felt Emile’s hand take a section of hair and it felt like he started working with Patton on a style. Patton would poke Virgil’s head sometimes and hair would tug near the last poke. He wasn’t positive of exactly what they were up to, but Patton seemed to be entertained, so he was happy with it.

“It would be more fun if you had more of it,” Deceit enticed him in a sing-song tone after pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Are we tempting Virgil out there? I want to join you!” Roman shot out of the bathroom and slid across the floor to lean against Virgil, looking extremely mischievous in his swim trunks. The smoothness of that move was for a human would have impressed Virgil if he wasn’t so annoyed. He narrowed his eyes at both of them.

“Virgil would look fetching with more hair, wouldn’t he?” Deceit said sweetly, stroking Virgil’s face.

“Oh, he would be dazzling,” Roman said affectionately and smiled flirtatiously at Virgil, fluttering his eyelashes playfully.

“You have the weirdest clan, dude,” Joan said, leaning back on the recliner, looking up from their phone. Virgil sighed and shrugged. “Put the fancy dancing on already,” They motioned to the TV.

“Virgil, can you turn it rainbow without feeding? The braids would look so cool,” Patton asked eagerly while Roman got up to grab the remote for navigating to the video.

“Yeah, hold on,” Virgil said, leaning forward to get up, but Deceit pinned him on the spot.

“Make it longer while you’re at it,” Deceit smirked, planting a small kiss on Virgil’s jaw.

“For the love of- Fine, okay? I’ll lengthen my hair. Ro?” Virgil gave up and looked over to Roman. He was participating in this ridiculousness and may as well help out.

“As if that wasn’t my plan all along,” Roman grinned impishly. Virgil got up, a very smug and satisfied looking Deceit clearing away so he could. Virgil went over to the mirror and turn his hair rainbow colors and grow it out with an exasperated sigh. The rainbows looked completely preposterous, and the length wasn’t rational in the least, but if it made them happy then he could get over it.

“You weren’t kidding about your clan heckling you, huh?” Thomas sounded bemused.

“Thank you, Logan, for not participating in Roman and Deceit’s evil nonsense. Roman, please order some room service with vegetables, no matter the amount of pizza you ate you’ll need nutrients,” Virgil exhaled with exhaustion as he pulled the last of the hair out he could manage.

“You’re welcome,” Logan smiled knowingly and tapped off his mouth with a napkin. “Can I take your spot, Deceit?” He asked genially.

“I suppose,” Deceit hummed, sitting up on the couch next to Patton instead. Virgil reclined back down on the floor in front of Patton and Emile. He tiredly motioned for Roman to press play. Logan relaxed into Virgil’s lap, much to Virgil’s surprise, as the video stared up. He was fiddling with his bracelet with one hand but latched on to Virgil with the other. It was nice that Logan was feeling huggy today. Virgil happily pulled him close and enjoyed Logan’s warmth.

Honestly, they did look good dancing, and Roman did an amazing job recording them. His dress was beautiful to see from another angle, too. It didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though. Virgil opted to close his eyes and just focus on the sensation of Patton’s fingers resting on his head while they watching the video. They were too enthralled to keep braiding and kept squealing with delight as Deceit threw Virgil around the room. Even Thomas gasped at one point. Deceit felt so proud Virgil could feel it over his shield.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed with your athleticism since you are literally another species, but I do compliment you on your skill,” Logan said, sounding somewhat mesmerized with the video.

“That was awesome,” Thomas said reverently. “Worth the wait!” Thomas cheered as the recording ended and Deceit requested Patton to thank him later.

“Thank you!” Patton rejoiced, raising their arms in the air.

“It was gay as fuck. I just want to take you dancing even more now,” Remy nodded, sounding hyped. Patton bristled much less than usual behind Virgil and hopefully was finally getting used to cussing.

“There was great on-the-fly choreography,” Talyn mused, and Virgil was surprised at the genuine compliment from a stranger.

“Uh, thanks,” Virgil mumbled. He wasn’t entirely sure how to process that.

“Why thank you,” Deceit bowed slightly on the couch.

“That was so cool! Can I have a copy of the file?” Patton asked enthusiastically, putting their hands back in Virgil’s hair.

“Indeed! you can borrow that flash drive,” Roman replied airily from the hot tub.

“Thanks again for editing, Roman. Please keep it offline, Pat,” Virgil said firmly, turning his head slightly to shoot Patton a glance.

“Virge, you just got to change inputs to the blu-ray and press play,” Roman explained quickly. “I already put in the thing with the ghosts on the player, it’s all ready,” He melted down a bit into the hot tub, looking very satisfied with himself.

“Woo!” Talyn cheered, holding up both their arms.

“Fucking nice,” Joan pumped their fist. “The dance was cool, too. All the flips rocked,” They nodded sagely and grinned.

“I want to learn how to do a ballroom dance now,” Thomas said dreamily.

“I have to teach stupid Anton, anyway. Maybe Virgil and I will just offer to teach whoever wants to learn,” Roman considered sourly. “Better than teaching Anton alone… Remy, are you naked?” Roman asked incredulously, looking over and shooting his eyes up quickly.

“You’re welcome,” Remy smirked. “Emmy, babe, are you joining me?” Remy flipped his hand towards Emile.

“I’ve never played with hair this long!” Emile said defensively. “And I didn’t bring my suit, and I don’t know half the people here well enough for that,” He added slightly more sheepishly. It felt like he kept going while talking. Emile must have been really into it. Logan leaned to the side to look at what the braiders were doing behind him. He seemed satisfied and nestled back in again, still fidgeting with his bracelet.

“I can’t resist, either,” Patton chuckled. Virgil’s head was being braided or plaited or possibly weaved into something by Patton and Emile together, Virgil couldn’t tell. But he was kind of too tired to care. He was very comfortable with Logan and everyone in his clan was feeling some variation of good, so even though he was exhausted he was extremely contented. He sighed happily as Logan leaned his head against Virgil’s to watch the movie.

personal taglist: @elizabutgayer@ollyollyoxinfree

the taglist repository (ask to be removed):

supernatural beings taglist: @callboxkat @legendsgates @nonasficcollection @rainbowbowtie @10moonymhrivertam

DLAMP taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @a-fandom-trashdump @averykedavra @notveryglittery

Virgil centric: @demoniccheese83 @thatgaydemigodnerd @arya-skywalker

literally everything sanders sides: @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

6 notes · View notes

javisjeanjacket · 4 years ago

Text

The Phantom Menace Drunk Re-Watch

A/N: y’all asked for more reviews and I am here to serve. :) also THE HORSE IS OUT OF THE HOSPITAL CAN I GET A HELL YEAH YOU KNOW I HAD TO CELEBRATE SOMEHOW!!

I am already regretting re-watching this god awful movie but i can’t do maul dirty

there are spoilers for phantom menace in this list but like...its been out for 21 years. if you havent seen it yet what the fuck are you doing

Jesus christ this thing is 2 hours long fuck me

Starting the opening crawl off with a bunch of high brow political information was a BOLD move at best

Obi-Wan "I have a bad feeling about this." Kenobi

YESS OBI AND QUI FUCK EM UP BOIS

Okay okay wait so around 7 minutes into the movie they have a standoff with two droidekas and the droidekas are kicking their asses and so they escape and then somehow just zoom out of the frame?? like they don't walk they're just pulled by some kind of force??? 1999, man

Obi: "The negotiations were short" what a smug ass bitch i love it

"A communications interruption can only mean one thing-invasion" dude what the hell that can not be the case. have you checked the wifi router my guy

Oh fuck I forgot jar jar binks is in this movie get me another beer

also who plays jar jar?? becauseeee I just want to talk. why would you do this to us

That cheek blubbering shaking he does?? JAIL. I AM ABSOLUTELY PUTTING YOU UNDER ARREST STOP RIGHT NOW

Do you think the phantom menace was for the prequels what rise of skywalker was for the sequels in terms of disappointment in the theater

So fun fact about me I have a horrible fear of the ocean and water in general so this whole underwater sequence is literally making my skin crawl

Naboo is vaguely reminiscent of rivendell from lord of the rings I said what I said

While I do respect how much effort they put into the political side of this movie's plot I feel like it's kind of getting in the way tbh

HELL YEAH FIGHT SCENE IN THE HANGAR BAY

"hello boyos." Me trying to flirt

What makes me emo is knowing that R2 was there for literally everyone's adventures and he saw it all and he knows it all but he can't tell anyone :(

MAULLLLLL HELLO SIR ITS V NICE TO SEE YOU

Jar jar is the 8th circle of hell

How tall is Natalie Portman?? because standing next to Liam neeson she looks like she's about 3 feet 4 inches

Anakin's first words to Padme: "are you an angel?" 🥺🥺 Oh-

Watto's neck beard makes me increeeeedibly uncomfortable

Also why doesnt Jedi mind control work on toyardarians?? I have questions

Jesus christ sebulba is terrifying

OBI'S CAPE IN THE WIND SO MAJESTIC I LOVE IT

Okay so at 38:38 into the movie r2 is going into Ani's bedroom and there's a wood carving that looks exactly like Maz Kanata??? 👀👀👀

🥺🥺🥺 3PO and R2 meeting for the first time!!!

Not jar jar eating his food from his plate like a fucking dog please just kill me

Qui-Gon: "I don't know there's just something about this boy." Me about literally anythinf with a pulse and floppy brown hair

C-3PO: "You know, I find that Jar Jar creature to be a little odd." Lol SAME

What is wild to me is that ani's midichlorian count is dummy thicc but it's not talked about enough to be something I remember

MAUL HAS ENTERED THE SCENE THE MAN IS HERE EVERYONE BATTON DOWN THE HATCHES

Qui-Gon to Watto: "Patience, my blue friend." Sksksksk Qui-Gon please

Wait wait wait one of the pod racer announcers is played by one of the guys who was on Whose Line is it Anyway? I just realized! What an amazing show I miss it everyday

That animal farting in jar jar's face lol he deserves it

Also lol why is sebulba so mean to Anakin?? Anakin is like 9 years old. Sebulba is definitely full grown. grow up you fucking loser

I've reached that point in my drinking adventure that I am get very tired so fingers crossed that I don't fall asleep 🤞🏻

Watching this pod race sequence as a child is part of the reason I have so much anxiety now

"Skywalker's spinning out of control!" Lol same

Anakin ate that race tbh

Has anyone written qui gon x shmii content?? because he just put a hand on her shoulder and 👀👀 I am thönking

MAUL V QUI FIGHT SCENE LETS GOO

Listen LISTEN Anakin is like what 9 or 10 in this movie and Padme is ?? 15? 16? No dude. No giving of a necklace and saying "I care for you" absolutely not. JAIL

Palpatine is so good at emotionally manipulating people he must drive a Honda Accord and his favorite movie must be Clockwork Orange

MACE WINDU I SEE YOUUUU YEEHAW

The reveal of Padme as queen doesn't make any sense. Like why?? You could have just waited until it was absolutely necessary bro no need for a dramatic entrace

Anakin too baby to be in battle

Wait is this movie the Star Wars version of the classic man vs technology?? because I'm thinking about the gungans which are very like organic and versus the droids

Also the gungans shield didn't stop the droids from just straight up walking through so like what the fuck is the point guys

YASSSS Maul and Obi and Qui-Gon here we go!!

Seeing maul bust out the double edged lightsaber really made me tingle when I was a young lass

This maul fight is incredibly extra but what else do you expect from the Star Wars franchise

Qui-Gon meditating while waiting for the barrier to fight Maul is absolutely too much

Yay!! the evil donut blows up

IN CONCLUSION

I did fall asleep towards the end there I'm not gonna lie, but ya know, we've all seen this movie before, so.

it was just as horrible as i remembered it but like....i did enjoy falling in and out of sleep as it played in the background so that counts for something right??

#the phantom menace #BIDEN IS PRESIDENT BABY #BOTTOMS UP LADS #drunk rewatch

2 notes · View notes

httphopewrld · 4 years ago

Text

hot summer (sneak peek pt.2)!!!

He was a boy across the street—no—an attractive boy across the street who happened to be a tattoo artist. You didn’t want to do anything about it, but your friends encouraged you to either stop sulking or make a move. And you chose the latter.

Pairing: tattoo artist/neighbourjungkook! x female reader

Genre: fluff and smuuuuuut

Rating: 18+ because there’s some smuuuuuutttt (it’s the most detailed I’ve ever written, soooo proceed with caution) and swearing

Warnings: smut, soft sex, dom!/sub!jungkook, dom!/sub!femreader, penetrative sex without protection (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), bullet vibrator, oral fem receiving, creampie, fingering, making out, and swearing. There are mentions of domestic violence, but it is not detailed. It is in the perspective of the reader, who is witnessing this from a distance.

Word Count: 9,000-10,000 (each because there will be 2 parts)

A/N: Uni has been a lot, so I will be post the full part 1 on Monday. Thank you so much for waiting, and for all the support and love I’ve gotten from the previous sneak peek! Here’s a little more to keep you on your toes ;)

Also, if you’d like to be on this fic’s (and future ones) taglist, comment your username, and I’ll update this fic and have your username in future fics too!

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You looked across the traffic, into the apartment building across from yours. A boy sat back into his chair, holding a book in his hands. He began to read, of course, in a simple manner. His eyes scanned the pages, imagining the words written in his mind.

He was man, most likely, in his early twenties, but referring to him as a “man” felt odd.

You were fascinated by him. He was good looking, even from kilometres away. If you leaned against your balcony’s rails, you could see his dark wavy brown hair, his slightly sun-kissed skin, and his all-black clothing ensemble. He wore no shirt, probably from the heat or being in the comfort of his own home.

You stepped away from the railing and back into your apartment, drawing back the curtain and turning your back to the balcony.

How long have you been gawking at this stranger? Had he glanced up from his book and saw you standing there?

You drew all your curtains closed, paranoid, and embarrassed.

People crowded the city’s streets.

The sun was out, which meant everyone became runners, joggers, and walkers. People, families, and friends came out from their hideaways and into the sunshine. You, on the other hand, sat safely on your balcony.

Crowds made you nervous. You liked meeting people, but the thought of pushing through a dense mass of strangers made you shudder.

So, you watched people push and brush pass each other from ten floors up, sipping at your iced tea.

You gazed at the apartment from the other night.

It was empty.

You could see simplistic black and white art and photographs decorating the walls and modern furniture. His bedroom is to the left, with a gaping window that allowed anyone to look in. The same applied to the rest of the apartment: big windows and no curtains.

You sipped your iced tea.

You could imagine this man’s wardrobe. Minimalistic shades, and maybe some pops of colour. Chunky black sneakers and dark accessories. He must’ve been an artist of some sort.

Your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Your friend, and roommate, Ashly, chimed on the other end. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not at all,” you replied, setting down your drink, “what’s up?”

“I was thinking of having a get-together. There’d be wine, snacks, and music. It’d be small, maybe five people, including ourselves?”

“You want me at your party?”

“Well, it isn’t a party—just a few girls and gossip.”

You pondered for a moment. “Where is it?”

“The get-together?”

“Yes,”

“It’d be at our place in two weeks.” Ashly sighed. “Is that enough time, mom?”

You chuckled. “Yes, my child.”

“Awesome! We can plan when I come back from work.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See ya!”

“Bye.” You hung up and looked back at the apartment.

The boy had come back. He wore a back cap, which he quickly took off and ruffled his hair, and, like a few days ago, adorned a full black ensemble. Despite the warm weather, he had worn a black leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers.

You watched him shuck off his jacket and toss it on the couch, and head to his bedroom.

He, with a lack of better words, flopped onto his bed and appeared to take a nap.

You chuckled to yourself—definitely a boy.

It had been a week since you looked back at the apartment.

You had just come back from work, and Ashly usually arrives back home an hour later.

The apartment you shared with Ashly was a carbon-copy of an IKEA display. You joked about it before, saying, “if someone were to flip through a 2019 IKEA catalogue, randomly choose a page, you’d probably think our place looked the same—or you’d find one of our pieces of furniture.”

It wasn’t a bad thing. IKEA was a popular place to shop at, and it was excellent quality.

Your furniture was various shades of white, navy blue, grey, silver, and light brown. The colour palette continued to your cutlery, kitchen items, and your bedrooms.

The place was cozy and didn’t leave room (pun intended) for a frivolous lifestyle.

The boy’s apartment was similar yet different. There was a sense of minimalism, like yours, but the furniture was dark—almost raven black.

As remarked before, there were black and white photographs and inky modern furniture. There were no colours in his home, just assorted shades.

His front door opened, and two bodies tumbled inside—his and a female.

Their bodies entangled with one and other and gripping each other’s clothes. The female’s clothes were the first to come off, exposing her bra and lack of underwear. The boy seemed pleased because he smirked before attaching his lips to her vagina.

You were shocked, scared, and worried all at once. You wanted to look away but found a curiosity within.

This man—boy—didn’t appear to have any desire to shut the world out.

You watched as this boy perform oral sex to this female—in the right way because the girl appeared to be moaning a lot—and you couldn’t look away.

It was like watching live porn, in a weird and public sense. It was, slightly, pleasurable too.

They took off their clothes shortly after the girl seemed to orgasm and engaged in penetrative sex. He took her from behind, against his couch. You, and whoever else stumbled upon this erotic scene, had a perfect view of their naked sides.

“Oh, my lord,” you gasped.

You felt the familiar tingle in your lower region.

Realizing this, you cursed under your breath and closed your curtains.

“What the fuck,” you exhaled, leaning forward on the dining table.

“I just watched my neighbour have sex,” you muttered, “and enjoyed it.”

You paced the room as if giving a lecture to a child.

“You were turned on by your neighbour having sex!” You shouted at yourself. “What the hell?! Were you fantasying? Him?! What the fuck, Y/N? Might as well be Joe Goldberg, and whip out your—”

“Y/N?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned to your front door. Ashly stood in shock.

“Are you alright?” Her Australian accent was thick with concern.

You smiled, “Never better.”

She let out a pulse of nervous laughter before tossing her keys in the small dish on the kitchen counter.

“What were you saying about Joe Goldberg? The guy from You? And why are the curtains closed?” Ashly leaned her hand against the counter, and her other on her hip. She resembled a mother about to lecture their kid about a text from a stranger.

You chuckled. “Nothing of importance—anyways, how was your day, Ash?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, Y/N. You’re not escaping this one.” She walked up to you and firmly placed both her hands on her hips. “What is all this that about?”

“Look who’s the mother now,” you muttered, making Ashly raise her eyebrow.

You inhaled a lungful of air. “The boy in the apartment across from us is having sex right now, and they’re bare-ass naked in front of their big-ass windows. I had to close the curtains because I felt like I was intruding on their sexual activity, and it was just weird that they didn’t close their own—but I feel like that boy doesn’t own any curtains—so I just closed our curtains.” You said in one breath.

Ashly’s eyes widened with shock, “What?” She walked past you and threw open the curtains.

“Ash, don’t just rip them wide open!” You rushed over and closed the curtains.

She glared at you before cracking the drapes a bit to take a look. “Oh, my God.” She gasped. “They are having sex.”

“Still?” You crouched down and peered through the break.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, “and harder than ever.”

You both watched, only for a few seconds before closing the curtains again, the boy drill into the girl. The boy faced the windows, leaving everyone to see his face and the top of the girl’s head as she tilted it back with pleasure.

“Well, he seems very good at what he’s doing,” Ashly commented, walking away as you closed the drapes.

“Ash!” You said in a loud whisper as if the boy across the street could hear.

“I’m just saying, the girl seems like she’s having the best time of her life, being pounded by that dude!” She defended.

“Jesus Christ, Ash, shut up!”

“I’m not wrong,” she shrugged.

You looked at her sheepishly, and you both burst with laugher.

Both of you spent dinner recapping your days: Ashly was currently dealing with an HR (Human Resources) problem in her company—she couldn’t go into details because of confidentiality, but it had to do with a problematic employee who was spouting racist nonsense online, which could affect the company’s image; and was immorally wrong because racism and any discrimination based on sexuality, race, religion, and so on, cannot be tolerated.

Your day and work-life were conversely dull.

You managed finances and taxes for your corporation, and the only exciting event to date was the incorrect money evaluation from a co-worker, which lead the company to believe there was wiggle-room for spending; when in reality, they were spending too much.

You pushed the pasta around in your plate while looking at the covered windows. You watched the curtains sway in the wind. Ashly had opened the windows a few minutes ago to let the hot air out of the apartment.

It was the hottest summer since you moved to the city five years ago, including the weather and the recently noticed neighbour across the street.

You continued to think about him and the way he had sex with that girl. It was romantic, yet aggressive and needy.

Fuck. You cursed.

“Hello?” Ashly waved a hand in front of your face. “I know that HR can be boring to listen to, but please try to look interested.”

You chuckled, “Sorry, Ash. I just zoned out a bit.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied, “but thank you for the apology.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m ready to watch some Netflix.” She looked at her watch, “And as it is almost eight o’clock, I think I’ll only be able to last for a ripe two hours until my old body starts to shut down.”

You laughed, taking both of your empty plates and cutlery to the kitchen. Ashly joined you, bringing the drained wine glasses.

“Care to join me?” She asked while you loaded the dishes.

“It’d be the highest honour, m’lady.”

⋅. ✯ .⋅

Reminder:

if you would like to be on my taglist for “Hot Summer” and my future fics, please comment something like:

(ex.)

Hello! I would like to be in your taglist. My username is _____. Thank you!

Thank you!

- Mae (httphopewrld)

#jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fuff #ficswithluv

181 notes · View notes

tessxomarie · 6 years ago

Text

Saving You - Part V

Trigger Warning - brief mentions of Self-Harm

*This part is almost 4,000 words. A lot happened...as always, let me know what you all think! I appreciate all the feedback & I love you all so much!*

It’s been almost a week since Tessa’s birthday party. I took a half day Monday because the emotions from Sunday were still weighing heavy on my mind.

Kendra invited me over to spend the night that night, and she came home with a new journal for me.

“Here. Write. Whatever is in that head of yours. Write.”

I used to keep a diary after my dad went to prison, a way to express myself in a positive way, before things with my mom got bad and the alternative options arose. Kendra found an old box of some old diaries Sunday night when I asked her to reach for some more blankets up in the closet and the box may or may not have fallen on her...oops.

Anyways, it’s now Saturday night. I picked up a shift at the clinic because Kendra was working there today.

Working with your best friend always makes work feel less like actual work. We both closed up the clinic at 8pm and ordered some carry out Chinese and headed back to my place for the night.

“What a day.” Kendra says as she plops down on my couch, and then just sprawls amongst the sectional.

I can’t help but laugh at her action.

“That’s why the Lord gave us wine, and lots of it.” I say as I bring out two wine glasses and a new bottle of our fav.

“Fill it to the top, I’m not even joking. Give it all to me.” Kendra demands as she motions for me to keep filling up her glass.

I fill up our glasses and hand hers to her, I then plop down next to her and we both let out a sigh.

“Cheers to us surviving psycho Maria and her demonic twins.” Kendra toasts, and we clink our glasses.

“Jesus and Jose are so cute but yet underneath those dimples and perfect smiles, they’re just the spawn of Satan.” I say staring blankly at the tv.

“Well the baby daddy is locked up for murder, so they basically are the spawn of Satan.” Kendra adds.

I give her a look, and she looks at me as if she said something totally normal, “What? It’s a fact! Speaking of Satan and their spawns, how are our favorite bikers? I haven’t heard from them this week.” She asks as she takes a big sip of wine.

I rub my temples, and I think to how I haven’t had to deal with any of them this week – it’s odd but not enough for a concern. When I have quiet weeks, it usually means there was a run and they were someone else’s problem.

“Bishop and EZ texted me this week, just checking in. They wanted to make sure I was alright and safe.” I tell her, shrugging my shoulders as it truly is nothing major.

Kendra then looks at me and nods her head, “Aww those bikers love their Lee Lee.” She says as she tries to grab my chin, but I swat her away.

“They love to drive me crazy.” I correct.

“I know they don’t know why they’re supposed to be protecting you, but they’ve never questioned it and they do love you, Lee. Every time I go there with you, they all rush to you and treat you like family. It’s beautiful in a very weird way.” She says with a laugh.

I laugh along because she’s right, it is weirdly beautiful.

“I want to agree with you, but not everyone there loves me.” I say, and before I can even explain what I meant Kendra finishes my thought for me.

“Okay, everyone besides Angel. That grump ass needs some good sex or something because that man never fucking smiles. Like dude, you’re a tall sexual biker, you got biker sluts all over you on any given night of the week AND a girlfriend or whatever the fuck they are; yet he never smiles.” Kendra rants, and I just sit there, with a flat grin on my face waiting for her to finish. She sees me starting at her and she stops and giggles, “What? You know I’m right, Lee.”

I take a sip of wine, “I didn’t say you weren’t. It’s just when you lay it all out like that, I now start to wonder if Angel is actually happy. Sex isn’t the only thing that makes men happy, right?.” I trail off.

“Umm that’s why I said he needs some good sex, I’m guessing Adelita ain’t cutting it for him. Even though he supposedly loves her...if the sex isn’t good, why would you stay? Like, that’s what I’d like to know.”

As Kendra rambles, she starts to get herself a plate of Chinese and I’m just looking at her confused.

“What?” She asks with a mouth full of an egg roll.

“Are you sure you’re not already wasted? You’re talking about Angel’s relationship as if we give a shit.”

Kendra scoffs, “Listen Aleeah, I know Angel is a prick. I know he loves Adelita but the boy has been in more scuffles this month than the last eight that you’ve been around. He’s stayed at his place here in Santo Padre than going across the Mexican border to his amor. Shit doesn’t add up. He’s not happy, and it’s not just the shit with him and EZ.”

“Have you talked to EZ lately?” I ask. Kendra and EZ, they’ve hooked up a few times over the last few months. I fully support that cause, I love Kendra and I love EZ, he’s a good guy that does bad stuff for a living but he treats women like queens.

“Eh, not really. It’s one of those things where I honestly have zero hard feelings towards him. I get that this brother turmoil is taking a toll so I’m not going to force anything. I don’t even like knowing half the shit I do but that’s all because of you. Now, if the man were to send me a Booty 911 tonight, you bet your ass I’d go fuck him. With. out. A. doubt.” She says clapping in between words at the end of her sentence, which causes me to laugh uncontrollably.

We finish our dinner and put on Mean Girls, the basic and easy go-to for girls night.

We both drift off after the movie on my couch, nurses in bed by 11 on a Saturday, what a life we live.

I wake up an hour later when my foot twitches in my sleep, and just as I start to come to it, my phone goes off.

I see EZ’s name flash across my phone and I pick up.

“Hello?” I say tiredly

“Leah we need you, now.” EZ says nervously.

“EZ, what is it?” I ask, and I nudge Kendra awake, and I whisper “Kenz, wake up, it’s EZ.”

“Is Kendra with you?” He asks and I’m confused. “Uhh yeah, she’s right here. EZ, what’s going on? You’re making me nervous.”

“Bring her with you and bring all medical stuff you two have. Meet at the clubhouse in ten minutes.” and the phone clicks.

“Kendra, wake the fuck up!” I shout.

“What, what what?” she shoots up from the couch.

“EZ just called, said for the both of us to meet at the clubhouse in ten minutes with all of our medical stuff.” I say giving her the look, the look that something bad has happened.

“Jesus Christ.” is all Kendra says.

I redo my messy bun and collect my thoughts. I go to my room to put on a pair of jeans and a tank top with a simple cardigan for this unusual cool night we’re having. Then I go into my bathroom and grab my extra medical bag and whatever materials from my own stock.

“Leah, I need a hair-tie.” Kendra shouts from the living room.

I throw her the one from my wrist and she sees as I do so, “I’ll give it back as soon as we’re done, alright?” She asks giving me her serious look – she’s been on edge all week watching my wrists like a hawk. I appreciate it, I truly do.

I nod towards her and look over our stuff.

“Your bag is in your car?” I ask.

“Yeah, grab your keys and I’ll drive.”

We both pile up the backseat of Kendra’s Wrangler.

“Let’s go see what trouble these boys have caused.” She says as she starts the engine.

Exactly ten minutes later, Kendra speeds into the clubhouse lot. Chucky was there awaiting our arrival.

Kendra is barely in park before we both duck out of the Wrangler.

“Chucky, what the fuck is going on?” I tensely say.

He looks pretty worried and that causes Kendra and I both to look at each other and give our best “oh shit” expressions.

“It’s Coco and Angel.” Chucky says and I slowly turn around and dart to the stairs, “Aleeah, it’s bad. I think they both may have been shot. Adelita brought them.” Chucky tells me and my eyes grow three sizes.

I look to Kendra and she catches up to me, “Let’s go.” She deems.

We barge into the clubhouse and Angel is on the table in the middle of the room. He’s screaming from his pain.

Coco is sitting in a chair across from the table Angel is on.

I see so many rags with blood, and everyone is in panic.

This can’t be happening.

“What’s going on?” Kendra asks before I can even fathom a sentence.

“Coco, he got beat up pretty bad and has a bullet wound in his thigh. Angel, he was shot in the back of his left shoulder, stabbed in the abdomen.” EZ explains to us, and I see Kendra rub his arm.

“It looks bad, girls.” Riz tells us, and I rush to Angel’s aide.

“Everyone take two steps back, now.” I demand, and the rest of the guys hold their hands up and move back.

Kendra goes over to Coco, he’s grimacing in pain, but it doesn’t look as awful as I first thought. I go look at Angel’s shoulder, the bullet is lodged in there pretty good. His stomach, that wound looks nasty.

“Okay, I need to know what was used. Someone spit out some details.” I say as I put on my gloves and Kendra is right behind me doing the same.

I look around at the guys, hoping for some answers. A woman’s voice then appears from the background and grows louder as she approaches within earshot. I turn to see her, Adelita.

“Angel was at my place, Coco had called him and said he needed to talk. Angel told him he could just come stay with us, we heard some noises and Angel went to check it out. Coco trailed behind. There was a guy with a mask on, he stabbed Angel. One of my guy’s thought Angel was the intruder and shot at him and shot back at Coco when he fired. I tried to see if I could clean and stitch it up, but I couldn’t.”

With every word that Adelita speaks, my blood boils.

“One of your guys shot him? And an intruder stabbed him with a mask on? You tried to clean these wounds out? With what? Mexican tap water?” I fire question after question. Adelita looks away from me.

“Kenz, how’s Coco?” I ask, but my eyes never tear away from Adelita.

“Stable.” She responds, “Vitals appear normal.” She adds on.

“Kendra, go to Angel, take over.” I order, and Kendra already gets the stuff together as I’m talking. I re-shift my body and take a step towards Adelita.

“You mean to tell me, you tried to fix him up with your make-shift products? You used tap water on his injuries? You’re not a fucking doctor, nurse or EMT Adelita! Jesus Christ. How the hell did you even get these two up here if you were at your place? Did you use your magical powers and transport them up here via spirit?” I say with sass laced anger, and the anger is pouring out of my pores.

“Aleeah!” Kendra shouts in a tone that tells me to calm down. I give her my death stare, I truly don’t give a shit about the words out of my mouth right now – what I care about is getting answers for Angel and Coco.

Adelita refuses to look at me, “Do you even know what stabbed him? Was it a knife? A blade? An old rusty tool? Do you know anything helpful?” I demand, and she still refuses to look at me.

I don’t know what comes over me, but with her lack of emotions and lack of answering questions, it pushes me over the edge.

“LOOK AT ME!” I scream.

I’m well aware of the capabilities Adelita has, I know who she runs with.

Gilly, Coco and Marcus have all clued me in. I know everything and this is one area where I wish I didn’t know everything. Adelita could blow my head off right here and now, and if Angel wasn’t laying on this table I’m pretty sure she would.

She finally looks at me and all emotion is gone, “This man on that table, the man that has risked everything for you…” I begin spitting off, “the man who loves you, he could die thanks to your poor choices.” I continue on, taking a step closer to Adelita, now her eyes are met with mine.

“You’re a rebel with no cause now, and you’re about to be a woman with no man to love. Get out of here, you are a waste of space at the moment.” I seethe. I’m pretty sure if I could spit fire, fire would have spread all over Adelita.

“Lee, this stab wound is bad. We need to call Shelby.” Kendra informs me – Shelby Pearson is the local ER surgeon. She’s taken Kendra and myself under her wing once we joined the hospital.

Before I can even think, Bishop announces he’ll call Shelby for us. I look back over to Adelita and I point towards the door, and she turns and leaves.

I rush over to help Kendra, and I see Angel is in pain. He’s an asshole, but I’d never wish this shit for him.

Kendra looks at me with concern about what I just said and did…in front of the entire MC. I give her a quirked brow and she matches mine, I then reply to her look.

“Save his ass first, ask for forgiveness later.” I say putting rubber gloves on.

Angel is in and out of it and I need to find a way to keep him awake.

“Angel, how are we doing pain wise?” I ask.

“Like I was shot and stabbed.” He replies with a bit of attitude, but I’ve never been so happy to hear his sass.

I grin and pause my movements, “You’re still an asshole so I guess that’s a good sign. Just stay with us okay? We’re gonna fix this.” I assure him.

“Kenz, let’s get him on fluids.” I instruct, and she already has the bag of saline in hand by the time I ask her.

“Shelby is on her way, she said ten minutes at max. She was with Franky, he’s escorting her.” Bishop announces.

“Don’t you just love how the surgical doc in town is fucking the local sheriff?” Kendra says to break the ice. “It’s like some dramatic yet predictable telenovela.” She adds with a smile while holding up Angel’s bag of fluids.

I end up letting out a laugh, and so does a few of the guys - we all needed it.

“Okay Kenz, I think this is all we can do until Shelbs gets here. Check on Coco, please?” I ask while I re-check Angel’s wounds.

Kendra then walks over to Coco sitting up in one of the chairs across from Angel.

“Coco Loco, how we doing Papi?” Kendra asks while examining his abrasions on his face.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Kendra.” I hear Coco tell her.

I look up and Kendra turns to me, big ole smirk plastered on her face. “He’s flirting, he’s fine.” She says as she walks back to me and Angel.

She lifts up the bandage on his abdomen, “Jesus Christ, Angel. Who the fuck stabbed you with a jigsaw blade?”

“No clue.” Angel whispers.

I do everything I can do make Angel comfortable. It seems like an entire week goes by before Shelby arrives.

“What happened?!” She shouts as she enters the clubhouse. Franky is right behind her.

“Stabbing and shooting. Looks like a damn jigsaw blade fucked him up.” I tell Shelby.

Kendra helps bandage up Coco, although he keeps flirting with her.

“One date Kendra, just one date. Por favor, Mami?” He begs.

“Oh Coco, those are the drugs talking, baby. I got you high as a kite to numb the pain. And even high as a kite, I’m going to have to politely decline. I love you, Coco, but more as in my weird cousin Pedro kind of way.” Kendra breaks it down gently to Coco, it makes me smile - hearing Coco beg Kendra for one lone date and how Kendra always uses her manners to let men down.

I’m snapped out of my daze when I hear a hiss from Angel.

Shelby was checking out his wounds, “You’re a lucky-lucky man, Angel Reyes. This is just going to make you feel extremely sore the next week. Tissue damage, nothing crazy. But whatever stabbed you, it should have killed you. By the way this person attacked you with it, they wanted you gone.” Shelby says as she dresses his wound.

I look at Angel, he looks like he’s been through a twelve- round match.

Over these last eight months, I’ve seen him beaten up and in rough shape, but this takes the cake.

EZ then comes over by me and puts his arm around my shoulder, “Is he going to be okay?” He asks with great concern for his brother.

“I think so.” Is all I can manage to say as I’m catching my breath for the first time since EZ called me.

EZ kisses my forehead and then makes his way over to Kendra and Coco.

It’s been an intense scene in here, so I tell Shelby I’m going to go outside for a quick breather.

“Just give me a few minutes, that alright?” I ask.

“Of course, Leah. I’m going to fix the stab wound first, then I’ll have you assist on that bullet unless you want Kendra to.” Shelby states.

I look at Angel, and he’s staring up at the ceiling, grimacing from the pain.

“It doesn’t matter.” I say. I go to turn to head out the door, but I feel someone grab my wrist – but not in a terrifying way, more as in a reaching out kind of way.

I turn back to see it’s Angel who had reached for my arm.

He gives me this look of defeat, and he takes a deep breath as if he’s trying to search for words.

For the first time in eight months, his eyes look as if a tiny spark– a tiny ounce of life is in there.

This side of Angel, I’ve never seen it. It almost feels as if I’m dreaming – you know those dreams where you see people the way you wish they were in reality, that’s how this feels.

No words come from Angel’s mouth yet his hand is still on my wrist, but I grab his hand and kneel to his level on the table.

“We got this.” I say giving his hand a good squeeze.

He gives me a simple nod as his eyes are locked with mine.

I drop his hand and I begin to move towards the front door, I hear Kendra faintly call my name but I ignore her and rush outside to catch my breath.

As soon as I’m outside, I see Adelita sitting on the steps.

“Shit.” I mumble under my breath.

I then go down the steps and turn to face her.

“How is he?” She asks quietly.

“He’s in pain, but he’s going to be okay. He got lucky, that’s for damn sure.” I reply, crossing my arms.

I study Adelita, to see if any emotions come back.

She rubs her eyes and stands up from the steps.

“Could you humor me and please explain how the hell you got him here when all of you were across the border?” I ask, because the more I thought back to the story that was told an hour ago now, I’m more confused as to why Angel isn’t on an OR table right now.

“Tunnels.” Adelita says looking me in the eyes. “Coco told me about the tunnels that lead to Vicky’s, I had one of my kids drive us to the location and we all helped get them through the tunnel and most of the guys met us there.” She explains.

Her story, although I believe it, I’m having a hard time processing it all. Why not take the guys to one of the local clinics across the border? Why not have me and Kendra come to Vicky’s?

My confusion must be all over my face because Adelita gives me a small laugh, “You want to know why we came here and not have stayed put somewhere to keep them stable?” She says, and I nod my head.

“What an excellent mind reader you are.” I spit, “But in all seriousness, yes I do want to know why because I’m about ready to go in there and yell at each of those guys and reteach them what to do if there is an emergency.” I say with sass.

Adelita takes a few steps away from me, almost as if she needed to gather her thoughts.

She takes a deep breath, “After he was stabbed and shot, the only thing Angel demanded was that we bring him to you.”

My face drops.

What does she mean? Angel demanded they bring him to me? What?

I’m so fucking confused.

“What?” I ask through my confusion.

Adelita nods her head, “Si, Aleeah. I tried to stabilize him myself and as you saw in there, it wasn’t good nor enough to help him. He knew that the second this all happened and kept telling us to get him and Coco to you.”

I take a few steps back towards the clubhouse.

“I guess he trusts you, given the fact you’ve had to clean him up a few times.” Adelita adds.

“Five.” I say quietly as I stop my tracks.

“Excuse me?” She says.

“Five. As in five times - tonight is the fifth time this month I’ve had to help him; saving him yet again.” I state with more sass.

Adelita goes to say something but I cut her off – “One more thing before I go back in there and continue to save his ass, do you have any idea who would want to hurt him like this? I’m not a cop Adelita, so you don’t have to hide anything but I’m sure everyone in the MC would like to have a heads up in case this leads to something bigger and more dangerous.”

She shakes her head, and I see some emotion finally come across her face.

“No, I don’t.”

I don’t believe that for a second, but for right now I’m going to let it go.

I nod my head and I turn to head back inside.

“Aleeah.” Adelita lightly yells.

I turn back towards her, “Thank you – for saving him again.” She says.

Rather than being sassy, I opt to be polite.

“You’re welcome.” I say and head back inside.

As soon as I close the door behind me, I take another deep breath and think to myself; Angel Reyes, you’re going to cause more chaos in my life than I could have ever expected.

#Saving You #My Writing #FanFic #Mayans MC #Leah Parker #Angel Reyes #EZ Reyes #Kendra Castillo

38 notes · View notes

bethhxrmon · 6 years ago

Note

All the odd ones 😘

Oooof of course you would do this. Soooo it’s super long so I’m probably gonna put a read more thingy so it’s not obnoxious.

1.What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

Annie’s actual name is Annika, but Annie’s super short and so is Ann which is sometimes used. Although, once he finally meets her, Tony Stark calls her Pikachu because of her powers and his need to make pop culture references.

3. How tall is your OC?

Since Annie’s faceclaim is Auli’i Cravalho and she’s 5′3, that makes Annie 5′3. Kind of short, but not as short as me so she’s a lucky gal.

5. What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

When there isn’t rehearsal to be done, Annie wears lots of hoodies, sweatshirts, and the occasional cardigan with a t-shirt under it and some jeans with either her brown or black combat boots. When she is rehearsing, just swap out the jeans with her assortment of leggings because she likes the stretchiness. Hence why the original White Swan costume involves silver leggings (silver because Harper’s extra and likes the theme). But for formal events, Annie goes with her favorite black and white polka-dot dress that cuts off just above the knee with flats. She also has a floor-length dark blue dress with silver flowers sewn in, but that was for a dance she never got the chance to go to.

7. Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar?

Considering she’s a superhero and has a death wish??? Annie has scars all over the place. Though they’re mainly on her legs from bumping into buildings wrong. Also, she has a deep scar on her thigh from a certain part in I wanna say chapter 12 but who knows, I sure don’t!

9. What does your OC’s bedroom look like? His/her living area?

Since Annie is a superhero trying to hide from her parents, her bedroom is her living space. She has a full-sized bed against one wall, all of them are a light blue color. Right next to the left side of the bed, which has a fuckton of blankets and a couple stuffed animals, is a large desk with her desktop computer and a spinny chair. Right next to that is her window (it’s plot convenience, but ya know what? fight me how else can she get out undetected???). She has a built in closet and it has all her hoodies and cardigans and also her Heather Macnamara costume from her freshman year’s Halloween party.

11. What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

Annie absolutely loves her mom. She’s always wanted Annie to do what was best for her. Whether it’s dancing or acting or writing, her mom’s the supportive one without a doubt. And while Annie knows she makes her share of mistakes, she’s able to let it slide because at the end of the day, Annie’s not dumb. She knows whether or not what someone did was selfish or not. And more often than not, her mom doesn’t have selfish intents.

13. How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them?

Annie has no siblings, but if she did, they would definitely know that she was a superhero and the whole plot of her story would be bribing them to keep their mouths shut.

15. What was your OC’s childhood like?

I answered this one here!

17. What is your OC’s imagination like?

Annie has a seriously great imagination. She kind of has to in order to be decent at acting. It’s super easy for her to think of a scenario or person and put herself right into the middle of it. Also, it makes her think of all the possibilities and that gets in her way because she overthinks some aspects of her life too much.

19. What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

Considering Annie’s only sixteen right now, she doesn’t want to have kids. Even in the future, she isn’t sure how practical having a kid is given some parts of her past that are kinda spoilery and she doesn’t wanna pass on her powers on accident. But she does enjoy talking to little kids. She thinks they’re funny.

21. Who are your OC’s closest relatives?

Annie rarely sees her extended family, so her closest relatives are her parents. Though she currently feels like her dad can go suck it. Which is fair, he sucks.

23. Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Before the fanfic, Annie was basically a knockoff Cady Heron and tried getting in with the popular crowd. But currently she surrounds herself with Harper, the fashion design genius, and her two favorite nerds Ned and Peter who are actually the sweetest people she knows.

25. If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

Everyone’s favorite Spider-Dude, Peter Parker for sure. It works great, they’re both superheroes. That’s not all, but I don’t wanna spoil stuff.

27. What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate?

Okay, if it’s physical, Annie is always going off about Peter’s eyes. Like, if she wants to get a real conversation done, she has to look at something that isn’t his eyes. And can you blame her? Those puppy dog eyes could work on anyone! She also really likes his hair, it just looks so soft. But if it’s not physical, Annie can’t get over how genuinely sweet Peter is. He just gives so many people so many chances and is literally one of the kindest and smartest people she’s ever met. And she does think he’s pretty funny too, which is always a plus for sure.

29. What is your OC’s level of education?

At the start of the fic, Annie’s a sophomore in high school, and at the end she’ll be a junior. Do with that what you will

31. What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student was s/he?

Annie likes school for the purpose of learning about different stuff. Even if she won’t use it, she doesn’t mind the random trivia. She’s always handing things in late, but she’s normally on the teacher’s good side so they tend to just let it slide because if she’s good at conversing then she must be a responsible student and working hard, right?

33. What subjects interested your OC?

Annie’s a huge theatre kid so she likes anything to deal with acting. English, history, and psychology are probably her favorite. The only subject she can’t get is physics, but she’s pretty solid in almost everything else.

35. How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession?

Theatre classes and trying to participate in the school plays and musicals is how she tries. Also, I’m only saying this because it’s not a serious spoiler with how things are going to go, Annie definitely gets into Julliard for acting. Just saying.

37. What is your OC’s biggest dream?

Annie would KILL to be Christing Daae in The Phantom of the Opera, it’s the ultimate dream come true.

39. How does your OC handle anger?

Poorly. Annie loses control over her powers when she’s extremely angry and what happens as a consequence, she can’t control.

41. What is your OC’s greatest fear?

Annie is terrified that her powers will scare away everyone she’s ever cared about.

43. What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

Being the regular Gen-Z kid she is, Annie has a pretty dark sense of humor, but she also likes puns and creating silly nicknames for people.

45. What are some things that annoy your OC?

Being told acting’s not a viable career, that she’s dumb, and that she’s a bad person (she can say it but will fight anyone else who says it).

47. How easily does your OC forgive?

It genuinely depends on what it is and how often the person’s screwed her over. If it’s the first time and Annie likes the person, she’s quick to forgive, but observant. If it’s a repeated deal, it wears on her and she has no qualms about messing with them.

49. If your OC experienced trauma, what was it?

I see you, trying to find out about the Fuckening™. That’s not gonna happen. You gotta read the fic to find out about all that, my dude.

51. What are some of your OC’s morals?

Don’t betray friends, don’t go down without a fight, if you know something and it’s potentially harmful then you gotta say something, and don’t leave people behind.

53. What is the health of your OC?

Physically? Annie’s pretty good except for sleep deprivation. Mentally??? Wellllllllp she may or may not have manicdepressionandanorexiai’mnotsureyet.

55. What are your OC’s thoughts on death?

Totally okay option for her, but definitely not allowed for her friends and loved ones.

57. What are some of your OC’s weaknesses?

Annie’s very critical of herself, sometimes overly competitive, she doesn’t always know when to stop, very impulsive and will do something stupid if she thinks it’s right for .5 seconds.

59. What does your OC think of him/herself?

Annie either thinks she’s the best person ever or she totally hates herself, no in between.

61. What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

Annie comes off with a bit of a resting bitch face. So she looks a little intimidating, but she’s also short so how intimidating is that really?

63. How does your OC display love?

Annie pays attention to little things and tries to do small things. Like if someone likes a certain type of tea, she’ll make it for them. Or she’ll compliment them while teasing them at the same time. That’s how anyone would ever know that she’s absolutely smitten.

65. What is your OC’s favorite drink?

Coffee, it lets her get away with sleep deprivation. Although her all-time favorite is a peppermint mocha. She would kill for it year-round.

67. What is your OC’s favorite sweet?

Annie loves anything that’s sour apple flavored. Not only because it matches her Hogwarts house and green’s her favorite color, but because the tartness is just so satisfying.

69. What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather?

Rainy, it reminds her of Seattle.

71. What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show?

Annie absolutely loves all the Harry Potter movies and will proudly display her knowledge of it at any time. She is a huge fan, but she also loves movie musicals to death. Except for the 1961 West Side Story movie. It uses brownface.

73. What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment?

Dancing around an empty room like an idiot to music. Either by herself or with someone close to her.

75. What is your OC’s favorite scent?

Rain mixed with fresh baked goods. It reminds her of the market and she would kill to go back.

77. What is your OC’s favorite sound?

Definitely the ukulele. It reminds her of some really good times.

79. What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream?

Green tea flavored. Ever had it? It’s so good and I recommend it hardcore!

81. Okay one thing you know about Annie that’ll never make an appearance in the story but is important to who she is as a person - whether it’s a little detail of something she experienced or a belief she has.

Alright, Annie definitely has or had a Captain America themed fidget cube that she keeps in her hoodie pocket because she used to play with the loose thread on the sleeve part and ended up constantly making thumbholes that Harper would have to fix. They got tired of it and gave her the fidget cube.

#answers #parkerpuff #hi mom

5 notes · View notes

sciencelings-writes · 6 years ago

Text

Heart of Gold-Titanium Alloy Chapter 4: Mandatory Revelation

Peter woke up in his bed. It wouldn’t have been odd if he actually remembered going to bed. He distinctly remembered falling asleep on the couch while watching Star Wars. He assumed that he had been woken up and was too tired to remember going to bed. He looked to his phone and realized that he had woken up only a few minutes before his alarm. He groaned and tried to pretend to sleep for two minutes before loud music exploded from his phone.

Living far away from his preferred school meant that he had to get ready much earlier than normal. It sucked but Peter would much rather be going to Midtown with his friends than some eccentric science school that was closer to the compound. Maybe he could convince Tony to get an apartment in manhattan…

Peter trudged out of bed and took probably too long fixing and gelling his hair down. He yawned every five minutes as Tony made him eat breakfast. He actually had to eat enough with the whole enhanced metabolism thing.

Harley just had coffee and surprisingly looked worse than Peter did. Of course, Pepper was up and perfectly put together as she too had to work before the sun came up. Tony was closer to the Harley on the spectrum of morning person. He did not look like he wanted to be awake or alive.

They were rushed into one of Tony’s Auti’s because he apparently wanted to make sure that the school had made all of the changes in person. Like no one was going to notice Tony Stark chilling out at a nerd school. Peter prepared to hear about the rumor at school and pretended that he wouldn’t be a part of it.

It was faster than Happy driving them and then taking the subway. By probably too long. They were at least forty-five minutes early and they gained a few stares after walking out of a fancy car and even more stares when Tony parked and got out of said fancy car.

Peter would’ve pretended not to acknowledge the famous Tony Stark™ but before he could, the billionaire did the half hug thing with him and Harley as if he were claiming them. It was kind of awkward and Peter knew that people were taking pictures. He knew even before Ned texted him with several emojis and a WTF dude. Apparently a picture had made it to the academic decathlon group chat. Peter said that he would explain everything when he comes to school. That was going to be an exciting conversation.’My last relative died then I went into foster care before my actual hero said fuck it and adopted me and my friend brother.’ After everything he’s been through starting with the spider bite, this wouldn’t be as ridiculous as it would’ve once been.

Peter decided to accept his fate and Harley still wasn’t awake enough to give a shit. Tony led them to the main office, needing only a little directional help from Peter. Tony confronted a stuttering secretary who helped him with the whole updated records problem. The whole process was pretty calm and no one else was freaking out so Peter felt pretty pathetic.

When he thought that it was over and Tony was starting to leave, Peter’s spider sense went off. It never went off for no reason but it wasn’t violent enough for immediate action. It just made him generally uneasy. Like he was being watched. He did the stupid thing and ignored it. He attributed it to the premunition of Flash approaching them. His spider-sense usually didn’t go off just when Flash was walking to him. He was just a little on edge.

“Hey Penis!” Flash shouted, obviously not seeing Tony only a dozen feet away. Harley managed to look less tired and more grumpy when Flash walked up to them.

“Flash I don’t want to do this right now…” Peter muttered as he instinctively backed away. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Flash, it was just instinct after being beaten up for years. He was more afraid of falling buildings than a kid that was shorter and more aggressive than him.

“Well that’s too fucking bad isn’t it! One of you little shits ratted me out so I have detention for the rest of the month!” Flash growled. This was when Tony heard and started walking calmly back as if he was waiting for the situation to escalate enough for him to be allowed to punch a child.

More people entered and more teenagers realized that Tony Fucking Stark was just chilling in a STEM high school. A few confident students walked up to him and he switched to the whole charming public persona thing. Tony did seem to keep a discreet eye on Peter though.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Peter said carefully. He knew that he and Harley avoided telling anyone and he really doubted that MJ had, Peter didn’t think she cared enough or that she was aware that no action was likely to be done. Ned probably didn’t tell as this has already happened so much that he knew that no one would listen or do anything about it.

“Don’t act stupid Parker, one of the losers in your group got the idiots that run this place to believe you this time.” Flash hissed furiously.

“Actually I did.” Suddenly, behind Peter, Tony snuck up on them and rested his elbow on Peters shoulder. He jumped a little. Jesus Christ, the guy was like fifty and he was still somehow able to sneak up on Spider-Man. When Tony came into view, Flash froze and could barely talk for a full thirty seconds.

Peter noticed Tony and Harley struggling not to smirk in satisfaction. But Peter’s spider-sense was still making him uneasy. Something bad was going to happen. Peter fingered the folded web-shooters in his jean pockets in an attempt to ease his anxieties. No one seemed to notice his distress so he hoped that he was just over reacting over nothing.

“Y-you’re… You’re Tony Stark.” Flash managed to stutter out in his shock.

“Yeah, nice observation short stuff.” Tony raised his eyebrows. “I am a lot of things and that is definitely one of them.”

“I- uh-I-” Flash tried to speak before Peter’s spider-sense started to peak.

“Tony, something’s wrong…” Peter muttered before a bit of strange movement caught his eye. It would’ve easily been mistaken for a fly. It was tiny and almost metallically black. But something about it was off. It was either it’s non-erratic flying or it’s complete lack of wings or legs. Either way, it was not a fly and it was setting off Peter’s spider-sense like crazy.

The bug landed on the ceiling where Peter noticed more of them start to configure. They were too small for anyone besides him to see and he didn’t even know what they were. They may not even be dangerous. They could just be weird cameras or drones.

Peter realized that he wouldn’t be that lucky when his enhanced hearing caught steady beeping coming from the bugs. In the movies that means they were going to blow up. Apparently, that’s what it meant in real life too. Peter took a fraction of a second to guess where the safest places would be then he realized that the tiny bombs were placed very specifically in the most important parts of the buildings structure. They were trying to bring the roof down completely.

Peter was glad that they were early enough for there not to be too many people at the school in the first place. Not just because of the imminent destruction but also because it was going to be hard to keep a secret identity.

The image of the building collapsing on them made Peter’s anxiety appear, One time was enough and now it was almost certainly going to happen again. Oh joy. For a moment Peter found it hard to breathe, A split second of his ribs being crushed and the phantom weight of a dozen tons of concrete piled up on his back. Peter motionlessly shook off the feeling. He didn’t have time to have a panic attack.

“Kid… You okay?” Peter was ripped out of his thoughts as Tony noticed him space out. Harley and Flash were staring at him weirdly while Tony seemed to have an idea about what was up. Tony was the only one who knew about the whole spider thing. Not everything though. He hasn’t had the chance to explain everything or even find out for himself.

“Uh, did you bring one of your suits?” Peter asked, hoping that the distant beeping of the tiny bombs would refrain from speeding up.

“I’m not going to bring a fully weaponized suit to visit a school… Why, what’s wrong.” Tony calmly demanded while reaching towards his watch that if Peter remembered correctly, turned into a simple iron man gauntlet.

“They’re going to try to bring the roof down…” Peter muttered as he noticed the pulsing noise speed up. They had seconds, if that. He didn’t have time to evacuate or warn anyone. So he did the best thing that he could think of. He yelled.

“HOLY FUCK THE CEILING IS FALLING!” He managed to scream immediately before the bombs went off. The blasts weren’t actually that impressive but it was easily going to bring the building down.

Tony pulled Harley and Flash to the floor as Peter slapped the web-shooters onto his wrists at the speed of light. A large chunk of concrete ceiling fell in slow motion at the small group and Harley was able to find the time to scream Peter’s name before he thought they would be squished.

Fortunately that didn’t happen. Peter managed to catch the debris and he only fell to one knee from the impact. There was a moment of stunned silence while Peter got back up on his feet and carefully placed the concrete away from them instead of taking the dramatic route and using the piece of ceiling as a frisbee.

“Are you guys okay?” Peter broke the silence and Tony was the first one to recover.

“We aren’t the ones who took the full force of the second floor kid. Are you okay?” His mentor asked while hiding his own marveling. The kid didn’t look even remotely hurt from the impact. Tony knew he was strong but holy shit…

“I’ve had worse.” Peter said carefully. Tony immediately knew that he was trying to hide something. Not because he was particularly good at identifying lies, but mostly because Peter was pretty shit at telling them.

“What the fuck Pete.” Harley spoke up. Flash seemed to agree.

“Not everyone can meet Tony Stark when he fakes his death and sneaks into your garage.” Peter sighed. “You have to be kinda special. My special thing just happened to be superpowers and non-violent tendencies.” He shrugged.

“You- You’re-” Flash stuttered, which was unusual for him. But being in a collapsing building, pissing off a superhero and finding out the main kid you bully is also a superhero was pretty unusual for him too.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter finished for him. “Surprise… I think there are more important things than my identity though. I mean someone just deliberately tried to murder us.”

“Yeah good point kid, was there anyone else in the foyer? It looks like this is where all of the explosions were… Not even the main office looks damaged.” Tony looked around.

“It was pretty empty…” Peter began to check under the biggest chucks of ceiling for anyone but was relieved to not find any bodies.

“Are we not going to talk about what the hell just happened…” Harley took Tony’s hand before the billionaire helped him and Flash up to their feet.

“Nope. Superhero karma. We could totally get attacked again as we seem to be in one piece.” Peter shrugged. “I’m guessing Friday already called the police?”

“Let me check, probably. It’s too bad my latest suit was in the car…” Tony sighed and put on a pair of glasses with the AI casually featured. “Hey Fri, did you call emergency services?”

“Of course. The authorities were notified as soon as the explosion went off.” Peter heard the quiet voice of the AI going into Tony’s ear.

“Good, you see any heat signatures in the debris?” Tony asked Friday while Flash sat on the chunk of concrete that had almost fallen on him. Harley walked up to Peter who was checking for trapped kids a few dozen feet away.

“So… Someone needs to stand up for Spider-Man huh.” Harley leaned on the chunk of concrete that Peter was lifting up.

“Well, I’m glad that it’s you. And Tony, and MJ, and Ned…” Peter chuckled. “What can I say, I’m a bit of a wuss. Even though I can bench press the Hulk with one hand, I seem to attract people who feel the need to protect me.” Peter was fully aware and usually enjoyed it when people cared enough to get protective of him. But it could get annoying as he felt like they didn’t think that he could take care of himself.

“That’s because you look pathetic and have puppy eyes. When you look sad, the world will want to hug you.” Harley snorted. “I guess that’s why you have a mask, you are as non-threatening as it gets.”

“I do not!” Peter dropped the slab of ceiling which made Harley tumble a little bit. The blonde asshole still grinned.

“Only Tony can get away with being that short. He has armor that can make him as tall as he wants and he wears lifts on the daily.” Harley grinned as Tony heard his name.

“You take that back you monster! I am not as short as the Spiderling!” Tony yelled from his position.

“You’re only one inch taller than me!” Peter shouted exasperatedly. “Are we really doing this now?”

“Isn’t the subject of height a normal family argument?” Harley genuinely asked. Both Tony and Peter stopped what they were doing and shrugged. None of them had much experience with family stuff. Or at least, normal family stuff.

This was when paramedics arrived and Flash’s mother got out of her car and launched herself at her son. Policemen walked up to Tony as Harley and Peter were rushed to an ambulance to check if they were okay. Peter was a little bruised on his back but he was fine. Harley just seemed shaken up so they gave him one of those panic blankets.

“Do either of you have parents that we need to notify?” A policeman asked both of the teenagers who both pointed at Tony without hesitation.

“We might need to call Pepper though.” Harley shrugged casually. Thankfully the police guy just went up to the billionaire instead of immediately doubting their situation. It took about fifteen minutes for the school staff to be saved from the wreckage, most of them were stuck in their rooms or offices and none of them were severely hurt. There was an english teacher with a broken arm though and Peter felt bad for her.

“I’ll do it, Tony looks busy…” Peter looked at his new dad and shrugged before taking out his remarkably intact phone. He saw that Pepper had already tried to call but his phone was on silent. He didn’t hesitate to call her back. She was probably worried out of her mind.

“Oh my god Peter, Are you guys okay? Friday told me what happened but I haven’t been able to get a hold of Tony yet.” Pepper answered urgently.

“I promise we’re okay, Tony is just busy dealing with the police. I think Friday is just offline or Tony’s glasses broke.” Peter reassured her. “I guess we get to miss school huh…”

“Jesus Christ now there are three boys ready to give me a heart attack. Can you give the phone to Tony when he’s not busy?” She sounded anxious and laughed nervously.

“We’ll make it up to you I promise. And I’ll try, but it could either take ten seconds or ten hours depending on Tony’s patience.” Peter said gently like he was trying to calm her down long distance.

“I bet ten seconds. He’ll want to get back to you two as soon as possible. Are you guys hurt at all? Even if it’s just a scratch I want to know.” She ordered.

“We’re fine, I caught the debris before it could squash us. Bruising will heal up in a few hours. I don’t think anyone got too seriously injured.” Peter started to think about the situation. The bombs could’ve been after Tony, then it would make sense for the people behind it not factoring in Peter’s super-strength, the bombs were mobile so they could’ve been following them for a while… On the other hand they would’ve been more effective if they had just gotten closer to the heroes. But making the ceiling fall was deliberate so it was probably someone going after Peter and not doing very well.

“I want to hear his voice… just please. Take the phone to him for a second.” Pepper said quietly.

“No problem. I’ll see if I can pull him away for a second.” Peter promised as he strolled over to Tony and prepared to be interrogated in his place. He threaded in between a handful of police who told him to be careful and he got close enough to hand Tony the phone.

“Tony, It’s Pepper.” Peter hissed as he passed his phone to his father.

“Jesus, Sorry boys, gotta console the girlfriend, you know? Hey Honey...” Tony said sweetly into the receiver of the cell phone. Peter decided to tune out Pepper’s relieved yelling.

“Kid, can you tell us what happened?” One of the cops approached him.

“Yeah, so We just got out of the main office so that Tony could finalize our documents, and these little bug things were on the ceiling which I thought was weird. They were black and super metallic and they flew but had no wings. They must’ve had some sort of miniaturized hover technology and they placed themselves at the strongest points of the building to bring it down.” Peter stated calmly.

“So they were probably the work of some villain with a personal agenda with Mr. Stark over there.” The cop motioned toward Tony who was talking in a very animated way to his worried fiance.

“That would make sense.” Peter shrugged and kept his mouth shut over suspecting it being his fault. Someone was after Spider-Man and they knew who he was. Tony being there was just an extra bonus. Probably.

“How did you manage to avoid the rubble completely?” Peter froze. He recovered as quickly as he could as he answered.

“I don’t know, we were lucky I guess.” He shrugged and glanced over at Harley. He gave his brother a look that tried to convey ‘save me’ and it seemed to work. Harley rolled his eyes and walked over.

“A building just dropped on us. We are traumatized.” Harley grabbed Peters shirt and dragged him away. Well, that was one way to get him out of the situation.

“Whatever…” The policeman reminded Peter why he was still a vigilante. New York just didn’t have people who gave a shit.

“Children of mine!” Tony yelled with his hand on the phone receiver.”We’re going home to recover from trauma, do you guys want Pizza or chinese takeout for lunch?”

This was when Peter realized how much time had past. They had literally just chilled there for hours while Tony had been talking to the police and Pepper.

“I don’t care as long as there is a lot of it. Trauma makes me hungry.” Harley said while Peter nodded. He had a feeling that he would be grilled during lunch anyway. He did just accidentally reveal his whole superhero thing.

Hopefully this time, they won’t be followed.

1 note · View note

dancingalone21 · 7 years ago

Text

Single - Part 2

Summary: Dean tries to plan a camping trip for his son and the reader doesn’t make it easy for him.

Pairing: Daddy!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,578

Part 1

"Dean!" Sam's been pounding on his brother's front door for minutes now but there's been no answer. Which is odd considering his precious Impala is parked right in the driveway.

Sam forgoes being polite and proceeds to barge in using his spare key. He's met with the sound of Metallica's Fade To Black blaring throughout the house.

The younger Winchester peeks into the backyard and he spots his nephew Drew running around. Sam decides to say hi first before tracking down his brother.

"Hey kid!"

"Uncle Sam!" Drew races right over with his large Rottweiler Spike close behind.

"What's with the music, buddy?" Sam wonders scratching Spike behind the ears.

"Dad's stressed out." Drew rolls his eyes making his uncle laugh.

"Over what?"

"Dinner I guess. He told me to play outside."

Sam nods his head in confusion before marching inside towards the loud noise. He enters the kitchen to see his brother looking completely overwhelmed.

"What the hell is going on, man?" Sam questions turning the music down to catch Dean's attention.

"I'm just getting shit ready for dinner. What's the problem?" He scowls, now searching for a big enough bowl for the pasta salad.

"I suspect your weird behavior has something to do with Mikey's mom..."

"Aunt. And no it has nothing to do with Y/N."

"Right." Sam quirks an eyebrow. "So is she hot?"

"Oh my god. So hot." Dean instantly growls realizing that he was just tricked.

"There are plenty of hot people in the world, Sammy." He snaps wanting to wipe away his younger brother's smirk.

"Uh huh."

"Jesus Christ." Dean groans opening the pantry. "Can baked beans be considered a vegetable?"

"Uh no. You want to have a vegetable?"

"Chicks eat vegetables don't they?"

"Yeah. Not always though. Corn on the cob usually goes well with grilled food." Sam replies twisting the cap off of a beer.

"Son of a bitch! I didn't think of that."

"I doubt anyone will care that there's no vegetables. Other than me." Sam jokes but he only gets an obnoxious scoff in response.

"Y/N must be special if you're putting in all of this effort. Especially when it's not a date."

"A date? Yeah right. I don't see that ever happening. There's just...there's something off about her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's completely immune to my charms!" Dean exclaims outraged.

"Holy shit. I never thought I'd see the day." Sam replies with a smile.

"Dude. I called Y/N attractive and she looked at me like I offended her. Then I continued to throw out more adjectives but I got nothing. Like no reaction. What the hell is that?!"

"She sounds like a smart girl."

"I hate you." Dean grumbles as he checks the silverware drawer to make sure it's all clean.

"The woman is feisty. And if she's feisty normally then in the bedroom she..."

"Shut up." Sam interjects, there's no way in hell he wants to get that visual.

"You don't even care if Mikey goes camping do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Nope. This dinner is happening because of Y/N. You can't stand that a girl you want doesn't like you back."

"Oh please, dude. The girl called me ancient and pointed out my gray hairs." Dean counters sending Sam into a laughing fit.

"I like her already." He gets out ignoring Dean's dirty glare.

"Whatever, asshole." Dean responds chucking a hot dog roll at his brother's head.

"What's for dessert...pie?" Sam asks with amusement.

"Of course."

"I hope you bought something else too. What if Y/N doesn't like pie?"

"Then she will get kicked out of this house. I'm not dealing with that nonsense." Dean declares firmly.

"You're such a catch. I can't believe Y/N isn't interested in you." Sam mocks him.

Dean flips him the bird, refusing to waste any more energy on his little brother. Besides, he has more important shit to worry about. Like that you'll be showing up in no time and he still needs to take a shower and get dressed.

Noticing the time himself, Sam sends both Dean and Drew upstairs to get cleaned up while he takes over in the kitchen. He's not a chef by any means but his wife Jess has taught him a thing or two over the years.

Drew and Spike suddenly come barreling into the kitchen, his nephew then focuses his big green eyes on one of his favorite things. Pie. Apple pie to be exact.

"Uncle Sam...can I please have some?" He asks drooling over the dessert on the high counter.

"You're definitely your father's son." Sam mumbles with a shake of his head.

"Huh?" Drew pulls his attention away for two seconds then settles back on the pie. He does his best to reach for it but Sam pushes it away from his grasp.

"Hey!"

"You can have some after dinner, man. You now the rules. If you're hungry, have a yogurt or something."

"A yogurt?" Drew pouts almost looking disgusted. Yup. Definitely Dean's son.

Sam's about to reply when he hears the doorbell ring. Of course Dean isn't finished getting ready yet, the dumb ass is taking his sweet time.

With a labored sigh, Sam swings open the front door to see a very pretty young woman and a kid around Drew's age.

"Hi. You guys must be Y/N and Mikey. I'm Sam." He greets holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." You smile before casting your eyes down to the heavy plate in your hand.

"Oh I brought chocolate chip cookies." You add softly.

"Cool! The Winchesters definitely like cookies. Come on in." Sam chuckles gesturing for you to follow him.

You and Mikey are barely in the house two seconds before Drew pops into the room to steal his friend away. You glance around the house and you're pleasantly surprised that it's very clean and impressively decorated. Dean is definitely gaining brownie points for this.

"My brother should be down any minute, he just jumped in the shower." Sam explains. "How about a drink?"

"Sure. I'll have a beer if you have it." You respond anxiously, you need to get some alcohol into your system. A strange smirk crosses Sam's face before he leaves and it makes you wonder what he’s thinking.

"Here ya go, Y/N." He strides fast in your direction with his long legs before plopping down onto the leather couch. You join him and curiously watch as he sips his beer.

"What was that?"

"What?" Sam repeats back.

"I don't know. When I asked for a beer, your reaction was weird." You chuckle nervously. Realization hits him and he shoots you a genuine smile.

"You're from Boston." Sam states. "I heard the accent when you said 'beer'. And I can hear it now that you're talking more."

"And that's funny..." You quirk an eyebrow.

"No. It's hilarious. You're gonna eat Dean alive aren't you?" Sam asks looking entertained.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You laugh before chugging down your drink.

"Dean said you didn't react to him like girls usually do. And now I know why. You're not a small town country girl from Kansas. You're a city girl who doesn't take shit especially something like his cocky routine."

"I see." You think back to earlier today and can't help but roll your eyes at the interaction.

"Well Romeo was overconfident at first and then he got kinda...awkward."

"How do I put this." Sam sighs. "My brother usually doesn't have to try with women. A wink and a smile is usually all it takes. So you're like unchartered territory. He doesn't know what the hell to do."

"You seem happy about this." You point out.

"Hell yeah. Don't get me wrong, he's a really good guy but the girls that come easy are clearly not working out for him."

"And you're just assuming that I like him back?" You counter with a crooked smile.

"Don't you?"

"I...I'm not sure. He's obviously cute but we don't know each other. And I've had my share of douchebags so I'm on the cautious side when it comes to dating."

"I hear yeah. I know..."

"Hey Y/N!" Dean swaggers into the living room and holy fuck does he look delicious. His crisp white t-shirt is showing off his muscles perfectly along with his sexy as hell jeans that fit him wonderfully.

"Hey, Dean. Nice of you to join us." You tease with a grin.

"Not everyone is naturally beautiful like you, sweetheart." He answers smoothly with a wink.

Before you can stop it, a giggle leaves your lips and you see Dean's handsome face automatically light up. He's beyond thrilled to get this reaction from you and it shows. You glance at Sam and he has a knowing smile plastered on his face.

"Let's head outside, guys. I can fire up the grill." Dean claps his hands together looking excited.

You and Sam both move off of the couch but Sam stops you from trailing behind. He quickly checks to make sure Dean is out of earshot before turning to you.

"Hey. Do me a favor." Sam says quietly.

"What?"

"When it's time for dessert, Dean will be bringing out an apple pie. When he offers it to you, tell him that you don't like it."

"But I do like pie." You raise your eyebrows confused.

"I just want to test something. Please?" The tall bastard uses some sort of trickery with huge puppy dog eyes and it makes you give in.

"I guess. Are you sure?"

"Trust me." Sam replies with a devilish grin.

Part 3

#sam winchester #sam winchester au #single #dean winchester #dean winchester au #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #supernatural au #spn reader insert #SPN #Jensen Ackles #supernatural fanfic

515 notes · View notes