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minty-playhouse · 2 months ago

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Casper Meets Wendy: A Review/Essay

Or: How to make a decent Wendy movie and save Josh's character

So, recently I joined a club dedicated to trash movies, kinda like a book club, where we pick a movie and then discuss. The first on the chopping block was Casper Meets Wendy, and for fun and whatnot, I decided to write down my thoughts on it.

I had no clue I was gonna get this angry, frustrated, yet invested (I went into this movie fully blind, aside from the fact that this was Duff's debut movie? at least that's what I was told). Follow the read more for the full thing, 'cause it's gonna get long!

So, the start of this movie? Disorienting.

We land smack dab in the middle of a baseball game, and they show us a climatic win with no set up. nothing. I had no idea how I should feel about it because hm, I don't know anything that's going on here?

Then aliens show up.

Confusion intensifies because not only we are getting witches and ghosts but also aliens???

Then wow, surprise, Casper's ghost uncles were the aliens the entire time.

AND I GOTTA A BONE TO PICK WITH THESE GHOSTS!! Like, I already hated these guys from the OG CG Casper movie, like the OG movie was nothing to write home about already, so really they just made them that much more worse. Not to mention that they are less "ghosts that scare people" and more "absolute assholes who cause harm and havoc whenever they fucking go". Like they invaded a perfectly good baseball game where kids and their families were just having a good time, unwinding at night after like, work and school, made them all panic, caused a goddamn explosion (and honestly at this point these people aren't scared because they are ghosts, they're scared becuase they are shapeshifting assholes who are terrorizing them) and just generally made everyone have a hella traumatic experience.

The only redeemable part of this whole ordeal is the hot dog cart having the word "Hotdogalicious" on the side of it.

And yes, all of the scenes with the ghosts feel like they last 5 million years when they barely reach the 5 minute mark. Get used to it.

Either way, we jump from the ghosts ruining people’s lives to a businessman wizard type character, and lo and behold, I lay my eyes on a beautiful sight: GEORGE HAMILTON!

Now I don’t think I saw a movie go from a zero to a perfect ten this fast! Almost makes it worth it to endure those damn ghosts just to see him (but not really, but I’ll tell you about a version of this movie that COULD be worth your time later on). Heck, I can’t even be that bothered by Pauly Shore’s Shore-ness as the mirror because they’re usually on the same scene together so George balances it out.

He plays Desmond aka a character that’s a bit too good for this movie and also a character that I could 100% see Vincent Price play and have an absolute ball while doing so.

He hears from the mirror that Wendy, the young good witch, is super close to surpassing him in power, and in a move that was waaaaaaaay creepier before it was explained to me later on, Pauly pulls out the entire profile on this like 8 year old complete with her FULL ADDRESS. (it was later revealed that Desmond has a tracker that can detect when other witches use magic and uses that to pinpoint their location, so Shore just pulled from Desmond’s own database, but they could have explained that first and not make him look like a creep who knew every detail about this little girl)

Desmond concocts a potion (with a nice nod to Snow White’s Evil Queen in the process, which I thought was nice because he is also an evil magic user who’s jealous of a younger, better person and has a magic mirror, I see what you did there movie) and I dunno if I wasn’t paying attention, or if the movie just didn’t explain, but at first I thought he was gonna use the potion to like, go to where Wendy was, or maybe just disguise himself like the Snow White queen to knock on her door unsuspectingly…

But no. He just straight up materializes two hitmen so he can send them to this little girl’s house so they can kill her.

Because yes, fuck you.

They also have very MIB-esque guns that do big damage. Remember that.

Anyways, we’re FINALLY introduced to Wendy (played by baby Hillary Duff) and her aunts, whom at first sent some really mixed signals and I thought they just wanted to make Wendy’s life miserable but quickly showed they genuinely cared for her (unlike those damn ghosts with Casper). I’m telling you right now that the witches’ plotline is LEAGUES better than the Casper plotline and the ghosts had ZERO need to exist in this movie (more on this later).

The hitmen knock on their door soon enough, and despite having guns that OBLITARED a door at Desmond’s place, they do litte to no harm to the witches’ house. Not sure what their home is made of but it’s some hella sturdy material.

A very bad fight ensues until Wendy disarms them and puts them in a cell.

And now is time for Wendy to be under witness protection service, so they just go to a resort to lay low for a while.

And goddamit, the ghosts are back! And they’re on the resort too because these plotlines gotta merge at some point and after they ruin the honeymoon – and very possibly the entire foundation of a whole marriage – of a poor couple that just wanted to have a good time, they stay in one of the cabins for a “vacation” and it made me SO ANGRY that they like, asked Casper to carry shit for them for this because what the fuck, these guy never ever use anything they literally just float around and harass people, they just make Casper carry shit because, as previously stated, they’re assholes and just wanna make Casper’s life harder.

And like, OK, cool, they’re like family because they’re his uncles, but why can’t Casper just… not hang out with them? It clearly makes him miserable and he’s just a ghost anyway. It’s not like he’s a real, living kid that needs to be taken care of by a guardian or something. He can just find a nice place to stay and do “nice” hauntings and such. Are they chained by some after-life blood relation? Because unless that’s the case there’s zero reason for Casper to even bother being with them (and they clearly dislike him so it’s not like they would care???)

We’re finally back with the witches and OK, if they needed to lay low and whatnot, why didn’t they magic up their clothes to blend in BEFORE going inside the resort/mingling with the humans? Like they did it later once they realized they were standing out and the fits were kinda nice but they could like, have a scene where they were studying the humans for a second and go “OK, we need to dress more like that!” and then conjure up wacky outfits because they just got a passing glance at tacky vacation clothes so that’s what they’re working with (with Wendy having the more sensible outfits because she actually knows what humans wear).

And then we are introduced to the movie’s biggest wasted potential: Josh.

Josh had EXCELLENT opening lines, and a very cheeky attitude. The whole “How are things?” “Kinda boring… until now!” exchange is very cute and honestly at first I thought they were setting up them being friends/vague crushes because there was a previous scene of Wendy trying to give a gift to this very lame paperboy, so I was like “Ah, the aunts were saving her from the boring, almost dead paperboy so she can hang out with a cool kid, I see…”

But more on Josh later, we’re unfortunately back with the ghosts (after a brief scene with Desmond that shows his tracker and redeems Pauly’s character a bit) and there’s an awful scare scene with a chef so they can get food and

WHY 👏 DO 👏 THEY 👏 NEED 👏 TO 👏 EAT?

I hate everything about them.

Thank God the scene is over and we’re back with the witches, who realize they can’t use magic or Desmond is gonna track them, and honestly every time they talk about Desmond is about how strong he is, and if he’s so strong, why did he like, summon hitmen to do the job for him? Gabby (Shelley’s character) even mentions that if he comes knocking he can turns them into “pumpkin guts” like, what was stopping him from dropping by at their place at the start of the movie and just do it himself?

Back with the dang ghosts, they’re eating, much to my increasing anger, which just escalated even more because LOOK AT THIS!

They were eating stuff like pastries, and grapes and juice what the hell kinda leftovers are these? WHY ARE THERE COCONUT HALVES? Also like there's more food NOW after they ate than before like... I hate every scene with them I wish they didn’t exist.

Then we’re back with Josh and that’d when all my hopes and dreams were crushed because Josh was just an asshole to everyone around him + Wendy and? The reason? Motivation? None. There’s a shoehorned reason that she “messed up his game” and from that point on he’s super dick-ish to her because apparently the plot needed an antagonist besides the all powerful warlock that can turn them to putting and wants to throw Wendy into a magical abyss where she’ll be disintegrated. That wasn’t hardship enough for Wendy she needed a boy to treat her bad so she could, I dunno, fall in love with fucking Casper, who at this point hasn’t done anything besides whine and allow his uncles to keep terrorizing and ruining people’s lives.

I refuse to talk about the Wendy/Casper romance subplot thing once they finally meet (at the 30 minute mark no less) because it boils my blood to epic proportions so we are skipping the dumb montage of them “bonding” because not only I hate it but also because they do like 300 million things and by the end they’re like “Wow, today was great!” like TODAY?? It looked like a couple days passed with all you did what??

Either way, Wendy and Casper are told by their relatives earlier in the movie that ghosts and witches/magic users don’t mingle because ghosts are scared of witches since they can cause harm to them, unlike regular humans, and witches don’t like ghosts because… I actually forgot but honestly, it was just so we could set up two seconds of “tension” in the first meeting between Casper and Wendy. They could very well just be OK with each other because hey, we’re both supernatural beings, cool.

But this feud inspired them to trick their relatives to meet and then maybe see they don’t need to be mortal enemies or whatever. And to do so they tell their aunts/uncles that there’s a dance and hey, maybe you could score a date.

Also the least we talk about Josh trying to force Wendy to go the dance with him the better, all his scenes make me sad and mad. Smad.

Also, color me surprised when the guys who pulled over at the dance who were already acting weird weren’t already possessed by the ghosts/the ghosts in disguise, because I could swear. Specially that damn mirror scene I thought it was to show that they were “in disguise” as humans but they had to avoid mirror because their reflection shows them as ghosts and that could set up something interesting but no. This movie hates anything interesting.

The one redeeming thing about the dance? The guy playing “human” Stinky ate the physical performance of the role. He did good and actually made me not hate the ghosts during this one scene.

As expected, the witches find out the guys they were flirting with were the ghosts in disguise, and things just go up in flames, in a matter of speaking. No one gets along and they advise Casper and Wendy to stay away from each other and yadda yadda.

Then Casper is a pos who talks about how the witches can’t use their powers because they’re being tracked by Desmond so the ghosts go to their place to just fucking annoy them and make their life hell, so Wendy just uses her magic to put them in casts and they buzz off. Unfortunately that display has set off Desmond’s radar and he’s now on his way.

Also Josh is being a dick and stole Wendy’s wand during the commotion, so they can set up the “Casper scares Josh to help Wendy” scene that was telegraphed five hundred years ago. Whatever, the only thing Casper hammers on about is how “pretty” Wendy is so he’s a shallow bastard.

Knock knock, it’s Desmond and he’s here to open the mystical portal and send Wendy to like, witch hell. She gets her wand back from Casper, does her darn best to fight back but nope. Desmond is just too strong. And honestly, a the start, I thought they were setting up a “Wendy’s magic is boosted by friendship and love aka something Desmond does not know and that’s why his magic will never be as powerful as Wendy’s” which like, could be a cool message.

But no, he DOES throw her into the portal and Casper needs to go inside it to bring her back (using the longest red velvet rope I’ve ever seen in a film) and the dang uncle ghosts FINALLY do something useful and scare Desmond so he falls back into the portal himself and they have a chance to pull Wendy and Casper out. A very “eh” ending that could have been much better, but then again, I guess I was expecting much from this whole thing. I’m just glad they didn’t make it so Casper and Wendy are now living together or some bullshit like that.

Good riddance you damn ghosts!

Now, because I wrote about that in my notes a lot, how to make this a Wendy solo movie and fix this mess:

Use the first part of the movie that you used with damn ghosts shenanigans to set up Wendy and her aunt’s better. Make it seem more obvious from the get go that they want to protect Wendy from humans, but because they’re isolated witches who are prejudiced against humans they come off as dick-ish, which bothers Wendy but she knows they are at least meaning well. Also give Shelley Duvall a better character she’s just the “gross witch” because we needed a gross character to pair with the ghost. She could just be a cooky one who’s just a little “weirder” than your regular witch. I think she would be good at that.

Desmond’s character remains unchanged except he doesn’t have the hitmen. Heck, you could even keep Pauly Shore as the mirror. He could play the mirror part like in a Snow White deal like they were setting up (yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice they totally dropped the premise and used Shore like only two other times during the whole movie lol). Perhaps Desmond shows up at their door in disguise as I mentioned, but Wendy is not only strong, but also smart, so she manages to trick him and escape with her aunts, but now they’re on the run.

You can also drop the resort thing. Again, they’re only there so their plot can merge with the ghosts. They could infiltrate a neighborhood during like summer break and all the kids are out and about and that’s why Wendy wants to go out and mingle. And when they arrive like they’re “moving into the neighborhood” she meets Josh, which the aunts do not approve.

From this point on it’s all about Wendy and Josh bonding. It doesn’t even need to be like a long period of time. They could bond over a week or so, kids make friendships easy and fast. But it’s pretty obvious that there’s something off about Wendy because she doesn’t know what a bunch of regular stuff is and strange things are always happening around her. But cool, Josh just thinks her and her aunt are from the countryside or something so that’s why they’re a little strange.

Then Josh catches Wendy doing magic and is like “Wow, cool” because he’s a fucking kid and has whimsy. But the neighbours and the other humans living around are probably not gonna be very thrilled about witches being in their small town. Human vs. witches is a feud that has existed for eons now, and it’s a safe dynamic everyone is familiar with.

Maybe a dance still happens, perhaps Josh also has annoying but well meaning relatives that he tries to introduce to Wendy and her aunts, and things can go wrong and they’re exposed as witches. But the people are scared of confronting them because damn, witches can turn them into mush but also why are they in our neighborhood? Then Josh, who’s just a kid, gets frustrated and let’s slip that they’re there because they’re hiding and can’t use their power, and the people are like “sweet, let’s go hunt them!”

They go there, and while the witches can’t use magic (and you know, don’t wanna kill these people) they need to use it to protect themselves or like, die, and that sets off Desmond’s radar who’s there in no time and is like “Yo, very cool, now I’m gonna destroy Wendy, you three and also all these lame-o humans”. Because he’s evil you see.

Wendy and Desmond could end up dueling, and at some point Josh + her aunts give her strength so she can overcome him and protect everyone and they can go “See Desmond? Your magic will never be fully unlocked because your heart never felt true love from friends and family!” and they don’t even need to kill Desmond because children’s movie. He can just go “Hmph, you bested me, but I’ll be back >:(” and leave.

And then the humans are like “Damn, these witches saved us from doom, maybe they aren’t all bad.” And Josh going “I’VE BEEN SAYING!” and the witches are welcome to stay in the neighborhood because hey, you should accept people even if they’re different because they’re likely nice people and so on and so forth…

So yeah, this is my essay/review on Casper Meets Wendy.

#JusticeForJosh

#casper meets wendy #trash movie essays by minty #I can't promise I'll do one of these for every movie #but this was hella fun to write lol

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peytons-depression-land · 2 years ago

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Welcome to the Embarrassment Zone: A screenwriter trying to write prose

I’ve always struggled with forcing myself to create and share prose and non-narrative writing over my preferred format of screenplays. It all comes down to a deep rooted fear of being accused of pretension and self-obsession.

See, with screenplay writing every word and every character is at risk of being superfluous. That shit has to be lean, mean, and tight as possible - every ounce of fat trimmed away, every darling not only killed but buried and forgotten. Sure, you can break the “rules” when you think it’s worth it and include extra detail or descriptive flourishes (god forbid you hold Blake Snyder and his Save the Cat method gospel) but if your screenplay read like a novel its probably never going to get read, unless it’s really really good from like the very first word (and even then they’ll probably just hire a screenwriter to re-write it and just give you “story by” credit). At least that’s what I’ve been taught/what my experience as a young entrant into the world of Hollywood/screenwriting profession has been thus far.

But with prose writing or non-journalistic nonfiction (ie journaling) there’s not really as many overall boundaries or rules. Like, sure, narrative conventions exist, but you have far more room and space on the page to use. You’re not writing a eye-catching piece of blue-print work that’s intended to set a whole artistic process of making a movie/TV show in motion, never intended to be itself read by general audiences. With prose your writing is the main attraction, and so you can add all the detail, all the flourish, all the eccentricities you want: and therein lies the issue for me. When I write prose I’m always paranoid that the literary devices, details, and narration I’m providing are overwritten, pretentious, and self-obsessed.

When I write out some metaphor or lengthy description of a character (or in this case my own) internal feelings, I just feel so conflicted over the necessity of it; are these words and ideas providing substance or am I just jerking myself off artistically? How much is too much? How much is too little? There’s no definite answer and the possibility of fucking up scares me. The possibility of creating art or writing that is embarrassing in its flaws or unearned pretension has always been one of my biggest fears. I don’t want to be the fool who doesn’t realize that their work they regard as good is actually laughable. The thought of lacking self awareness is to me about the most humiliating thing I can think of.

But I need to get over my petty fears of failure. These obsessions with not taking risks when writing are what make my creative process so glacial and bound by anxiety and procrastination. I gotta start writing more - both my screenplays and just experimentally, with things like this. So I’m starting this blog and I’m gonna start using it on as frequent of a basis as I can make myself. Maybe I’ll recount my day or random stuff I’ve thought about. Maybe I’ll try to write some short stories or something. Maybe I’ll just write a lot about how depressed I am. Regardless, I just want to get myself writing more, embarrassment be damned.

One thing is certain: there will be lots of typos. I always miss something. And I ain’t got the time to just sit around and proofread over and over. Plus probably no one is gonna be reading all this anyway, so who cares.

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pogueswrld · 3 years ago

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*•.¸♡ perpetual booms ♡¸.•*

pairing: jj maybank x fem!muslim!Arab! reader

summary: moving out of New York seemed to be a good idea to y/n's parents, thinking that moving to a small island was much better and safer after the incident. She was proven wrong anyway.

warnings: language, school shooting, death, unresolved trauma, spiraling mental health, mentions of a hot shower (I think that categorizes under self harm?? Idk), fear of loud noises, panic attack, mutual pinning, jj likes reader and he's not ashamed to admit it, 'I wish you were sober' moment, 'who did this to you' trope, the pouges being completely oblivious to reader's trauma and jj apologizing for triggering her. unedited :)

note: okay so I made this with an incredibly detailed idea of the reader but please feel free to adjust it to whichever way you want, it can also be poc!reader cuz I never mentioned reader looks but don't pm me telling me that you don't like the idea or the writing of it or the concept overall I really dgaf what you think :) anyway!! this was kinda intense 🧍‍♀️ HELP I WROTE SOME SCENES THEN I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY.... smfh

This whole thing was inspired by the movie 'the fallout' I 100% recommend watching.I am grateful to have never experiencing a school shooting seeing that I am not American but if I portray anything wrongfully please tell me, I would love to be educated on the matter :)

The weather was the first indicator of how the day would go, with the sun completely gone from the sky are massive clouds floating about carrying forming water droplets, y/n knew she was going to have her mood bummed out.

First of all, it was windy. Which meant she was going to have to wear a cotton hijab and a shitton of bobby pins to secure it in place. Secondly, she's probably going to have to walk to school, which is awful as it is.

With a sigh, she walks away from the window in her bedroom, making sure the curtains cover the glass before changing into her outfit for the day.

She was wearing a long-sleeved black turtle neck and matching cargo pants, an ivy green button-up over the long-sleeve shirt to cover her chest and she made sure to tuck the ends of her hijab into the shirt and use bobby pins to secure it to her clothes just to make sure it doesn't get in the way── or so people don't try to tug it off her head.

She wears silver jewelry to add a simple touch to her look before grabbing her bag and making it down the stairs to meet up with her parents in the kitchen.

They seemed to be in a rush, and that was all the confirmation she needed about walking to school.

"Morning," Her mother greeted her, she too was in her hijab, and she looked like an older version of y/n. She sips on her coffee as y/n father smiles at his daughter, "Ready to go?"

y/n hums, grabbing a vegan energy bar from the cabinet before stashing it in her bag. "Will one of you be driving me?" she already knew the answer, but she didn't want them to worry.

Her mother tilts her head apologetically, "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I got this deal with a landlord on a house off the coast and let's just hope everything goes smoothly." she rolls her eyes, y/n had no doubt it's the same guy that claimed her mother tried to 'burn down the house' he had put up for sale, ridiculous.

"Dad?" she tried not to sound too hopeful, but her voice betrays her. "Sorry kid, I gotta drive your mom to her office and get to work, we're already running late 'cause she doesn't want to finish the damn coffee."

Y/n shakes her head and giggles at their banter, then she's pressing a kiss to their cheeks before heading out the door. "Do you have your pepper spray on you?" Her mother calls out just as she reaches the door, "Yes, I also have my teaser. I'm gonna be fine mom, I promise. Love you!"

"Love you too! Be careful."

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y/n was scared shitless. It was like all the civilians of New York choose today to go out and about like it's not six am on a damned Tuesday.

One of the main things the hijabi girl dispised about living in America, in general, was the fact that she's unable to walk down the street without feeling a stranger's eyes pour into her figure, either in curious stares or hateful glares, it didn't matter.

She manages to keep to herself though, her eyes never making eye contact and always looking sharp. She never stopped for anything and didn't check her phone as it dings with notifications from her friends. She couldn't afford the luxury of walking freely like everyone else.

Another thing y/n hated was school. She genuinely believed that she was better off without and the only reason she was attending in the first place is just to see her friends. That's kind of sad but it's the truth, she's never been allowed to see them anywhere other than school. It's one of her parents' many, many rules.

Her shoulders relax when the educational building comes to view and she hurries towards the entrance, eager to get off the dangerous New York streets.

She's twenty minutes early to the first class bell, so she makes it to her locker and pulls out the notebooks and textbooks she would need for her first three classes, it makes it a lot easier for her this way, she gets to spend more time with her friends and less time roaming the halls by herself.

When she closes her locker a familiar friendly face meets her with a grin and she had to gasp to bite down a squeal of surprise. Her best friend, Viola, laughs loudly and shamelessly at her and y/n rolls her eyes at her. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that!"

"You still make that face!" the brunette girl cackles and y/n breathes a light chuckle, her hand slightly nudging Viola's shoulder in a teasing matter.

"So, what are you doing later today?" Viola asks as she pulls on her bag's straps and y/n sends her an exaggerated stare, "Really?" Viola purses her lips and holds back another laugh, "Right. Okay well, how about this? I come over tonight and we can study for that chemistry quiz coming up next Friday, yeah?"

y/n only shrugs, "Sure, why not?" the girls share a brief hug before separating ways to their assigned classes, promising to meet in between classes to walk to their next shared class.

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y/n hated it when classes dragged on, and she hated it even more when the teacher kept repeating the same part of the lesson over and over again. She felt like her head was about to explode from boredom.

With a deep silent sigh, the girl pressed on her black pen and sketched a little spider web to the top corner of the textbook's page, she was so focused on it that when the paper that rested on her table came into view, it took her completely by surprise.

Her head shot up to the general direction it came from and her eyes met those of Avron Blake, the captain of the athlete team, and he smiles at her with a slight wave of his hand. She doesn't respond, only glances back down to the paper and sees her name written on it in awful handwriting.

Her hand clutches around the piece of paper, crumbling it into her fists and she brings it below the table, she quickly opens it and her eyes scan the words and then she's quickly crumbling it back into a ball and stashing it within the drawer in her desk.

You got my homework?

She doesn't meet his eyes for the rest of the period, and when the bell rings she's bolting out of the class before he manages to corner her or catch up with her.

Y/n had no recollection of ever agreeing to do Avron Blake's homework for him, so she guesses that Viola got in trouble with him again and she promised him that y/n would do his homework for him. Even though Viola never told her about that.

she sees her best friend by her locker and she's pursing her lips at her with a mean glare, "You told Avron I'd be doing his homework for him?" realization quickly flashes behind Viola's eyes followed by guilt, "Oh my God, did he talk to you? Y/n I am so sorry-"

"You can't keep doing this Viola!" y/n groaned, her eyes repeatedly glancing down the corridor to see if Avron or his group of jocks would chase her down or not. "I know, I'm sorry! I didn't tell you about it because I did his homework, I just wasn't expecting him to actually talk to you about it." Viola holds up a stack of four or so pages in her hand as she smiles apologetically at her best friend.

Still pouting, y/n shakes her head at the girl. "Whatever, give it to him before he comes back hunting my ass down for this shit."

"Yes ma'am."

Viola walks down the corridor and y/n rolls her eyes, then she's going through her bag as she heads for her second class of the day.

She pauses outside the cafeteria door when she realizes her physics notebook is not in her bag and y/n squeezes her eyes shut in annoyance before sending a silent curse in Viola's name. Throwing her head back in an exaggerated sigh, the girl looks into the cafeteria to catch glimpses of kids who are already in their spare classes. A slight twinge of jealousy erupts through her and y/n presses her lips together into a thin line.

Then she hears it, right from within the room, she was looking into right now. A loud bang echoes through the halls and everyone freezes for a moment, "What the fuck was that?" it was a simple question passed between them, and then another bang erupts and someone starts screaming somewhere.

The confusion that filled her was quick to wash off when y/n realizes just exactly what it was. There was a guy in the cafeteria, and he was holding up a gun. He repeatedly pulled at the trigger and she could see the kids flying out the doors as some others bled on the floor. Her mind raced and her body froze, but as the kids pushed out of the door in front of her, she was encouraged to run down the same corridor she just came through.

Remembering that Viola was also walking down this exact hall, y/n's face paled. She frantically looks around and calls out for her best friend, but then another bang comes from somewhere nearer. Except for the ones at the cafeteria never stopped.

Her heart stops when she realizes; there was more than one guy.

The reality of the situation was extremely difficult to grasp, and y/n struggled to breathe as an injured kid crawled back to the hall she stood in in hopes of hiding from his murderer. Tears roll down her face as her entire body trembled and a soft clank from the door beside her made her jump.

The shots from the hallway grow closer and y/n was certain this was her end. She was going to die here, in school, in the hallway, at the hands of a boy that couldn't possibly be any older than she was. But her body moves quickly as it jitters, and it pulls open the door to the room before pulling it closed behind her. She made sure to close it as quietly as possible and then click the lock on it.

Whoever she was stuck with now was going to have to bare her broken-down presence.

When she looks behind her at her hiding spot companion, y/n almost wishes she never came in. But then the thought disappears as quickly as it forms because a choked sob makes it out of her throat and she muffles it with her hand.

It was Viola, on the floor, with tears running down her face and her hands holding onto her torso, her clothes and floor and body covered with the crimson liquid that once gave her life, now draining her of it.

"Oh, my God? oh my God. Oh God- Viola?" Her voice represents the state of her mind and body, it felt like the whole building was shaking, but it was actually just y/n's entire body. From her wobbling legs to her heaving gasping chest, the teenager swallows whatever noise threatens to come out of her throat as she kneels beside her best friend, the girl that stood beside her through thick and thin, her best friend. Her only friend.

She has no idea what to do. As her mind blanks out and every rational thought escapes her, y/n is left to cradle the girl and whisper sweet lies into her forehead as the shots ceased and the screams quieten, until sirens fill the air and orders were given.

y/n keeps a hold on Viola as they get pulled out of the room and into safety, she keeps a hold on her best friend as people in blue try to talk to her, as the warm welcome embrace of her mother and father engulfs her and tries to soothe her, but it didn't matter.

It didn't matter because y/n had witnessed the life in her best friend's eyes disappear as she lay in her arms, her ears still ringing from the gunfire and horrifying screams of kids dying or being shot at left and right, of the gasps and cries of Viola as she took her last breathes.

y/n got so overwhelmed that nothing mattered anymore.

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Whatever happened after she was pulled out of the janitor's closet was a complete blur to y/n, she doesn't remember being separated from Viola, she doesn't remember anyone trying to talk to her, she doesn't remember her mother's relieved cries or her father's thankful's embrace. She doesn't remember making it home or getting clean off the blood that was stuck to her like a second skin, but she does remember laying in bed, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom as everything came crashing down onto her like waves of anguish, one furious roll after another pushing her under.

Her chest clenches and she wants to scream, she wants to cry and hyperventilate and tear out her hair, she wants to cut through his throat and pull the gun's trigger, making him feel exactly what her best friend felt in her last moments of this earth beside her, in her arms.

Instead, she lays awake at night, the familiarity of her sheets itching disgustingly at her skin but she doesn't move, she lets the uncomfortableness sink within her as a single tear rolls down the side of her face.

Her mind was hazy, still unable to completely process the traumatic events inflicted upon her when Viola's mother came knocking at their door two weeks later. She was broken. An absolute wreck as she did her best to put words together that meant an invitation for her family to attend Viola's funeral and memorial.

When her mother told her about it, y/n blinked at her. And it was the first emotion she's seen in her daughter in three days. Her mother almost burst into tears right there, but the quiver of y/n lip told her that this wasn't the time for her feelings, it was a chance for her daughter to display some of her own.

"Y/N? Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Suddenly realizing that Viola, —sweet, radiant, lively, lovely Viola— is dead had y/n glancing down at her hands. It's like she can still feel the dried blood on her hands, damping her clothes, she can still hear her silent cries and dying gasps, she can feel her warmth disappear and her heart freezing.

y/n's chest is heaving and her mother is near tears again, she sits beside her daughter and pulls her closer to her chest as she cries and sobs through the night.

────────────────────────────

y/n wishes she could say that attending Viola's funeral gave her some sort of closure, but if anything it fueled her already distraught state.

She stood beside Viola's mother, giving hugs to condolence women and shaking the hands of absolute strangers, people sympathizing with the family and sending pitty stares to the girl in the hijab after learning that the girl in the coffin died in her arms.

It was hell, absolute torture, and when she was offered the chance to leave and go home, y/n didn't hesitate.

Sitting at the dinner table with her parents couldn't be more awkward, not like she even noticed. They share worrisome glances with each other as y/n pushes her food around her plate absentmindedly, and when she was tired of it, she gets up to seclude herself in her room.

They don't move, they don't speak, they just hold hands and pray that their daughter will find a way to come back to them somehow, someday.

The shower water was burning, steam flowing in the bathroom and fogging up the mirror, y/n doesn't seem to notice, or maybe she does but she chooses to ignore it. She's sitting on the ground, her knees pressed to her chest as best as she could, the hot droplets meeting her bare back causing her skin to turn a painful red, but she doesn't mind it.

She's grown accustomed to the emptiness within her, within her chest and her mind, the four walls of her bedroom are all she's comfortable with and she realizes that every time she leaves the front door of her house, there's a silent prayer leaving her lips, one that she repeats at least five times a day with each Salah.

She's fully aware that this isn't something praying would fix, it's not something she can manifest away, so she was stuck in this repetitive loop of feeling everything, crying, then immediately going numb.

It was better than feeling absolutely nothing all of the time.

────────────────────────────

A few days later, y/n knew something was up with her parents when all they did was share glances and drink their coffee in silence.

They were generous enough to allow her to not go back to school immediately, but she knew it was coming up eventually. It had already almost been a month and the only time she ever left the house was when she was taking out the trash or for Viola's funeral. Every day other than that was spent in her bedroom.

She puts down her mug of fresh juice and folds her arms, "What is it?" she asks, her arm movement causing the hijab thrown carelessly over her head to expose a bit of her tied-up hair. She pulls the fabric over her head again and keeps a steady stare at her parents, her face completely emotionless.

Her mother was the first to open her mouth then close it, then open it again. "Your dad and I have been thinking—"

"No. I'm not going back to school."

Her dad shakes his head, "No of course not honey, that's not what we wanted to talk to you about." He glances at her mother and gives her a meaningful stare and she sighs, placing her mug on the table.

"Your father and I wanted to tell you that we... Are moving."

The news didn't seem to faze her, she simply blinked and furrowed her eyebrows, "To where?"

y/n's mother holds her daughter's shoulders and smiles softly at her, "Remember that deal I told you about? With the mean landlord?"

The teenager hums and her mother grins, "I got it and we bought it, it's a little house, perfect for the three of us, away from New York. What do you think?"

The girl shrugs, "Okay but where?"

"On a little island in North Carolina, Outer Banks. Life seems to be pretty cheap there and you get to be away from... All of this mess." his finger carelessly points at their house.

Very aware of the fact that she doesn't really have much of a choice as they've already made up their minds and started preparing for the move, y/n nods. She tries to pass it off as a happy nod, but truly she feels nothing, she just wants to give them a bit of peace of mind.

She had another nightmare that night, except it was one of the shootings instead of Viola this time. Her heart hammered within her chest as her lungs begged her to breathe, her hand slamming against her mouth to muffle whatever screams wanted to escape her to not wake up her parents as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

Nightmares were a reoccurring event but it was completely out of y/n's control, so all she could be go to bed and pray that she makes it through the night without having to scream or better yet, not have to wake up at all.

At least in this dream, she wasn't the one left to the very end to die.

────────────────────────────

Outer Banks was so much different than New York, y/n's first giveaway was the humid weather that caused her to wheeze with each step she took further into the island.

The house her mother managed to get for them was small, it was built more like a cabinet, with three bedrooms and a bathroom, a kitchen, and a small living room. It was very different than the large two-story house she's lived in New York, but it'll have to do.

The bedroom her parents assigned for her was already furnished, with a soft earth colors theme and a white bed, y/n presses her lips together when she realizes that it doesn't make a difference to her.

It's truly upsetting, she wished she was more excited, she wished she was at least a bit upset that her desk wasn't the same color as the shelves on her wall, she wished she was embarrassed about the stuffed animals decorating her bed, but she really felt nothing at all.

Putting on a forced, fake smile, the girl walks back out to her parents and gives them the most enthusiastic thumbs-up she could master.

Another thing she's been so off about is hugging or touching anyone, especially those she cares about. She hasn't been able to bring herself to hug or leave a kiss to either one of her parents so she settled on distant approval.

"Can I check out the beach?" It was right in front of the house, y/n counts it as a perk. New York didn't have beaches, and this gives her the perfect opportunity to wear a silk hijab and a head cover underneath it.

The request took her parents by surprise and they were nodding at her, almost pleadingly, and she smiles at them.

She doesn't bother to change out of her clothes, simply pulling on her shoes before walking out and heading towards the warm sand and massive waves heading towards the shore before her house.

It was beautiful. The sun was out and about, sending waves of warmth and calm to everyone it came across, the waves of the ocean gathered as it neared the shore and then crashed down onto the sand, rising towards the girl but barely touching her bare toes.

She takes a deep breath and the scent of salty water and beach floods her senses, for the first time in weeks, an emotion passes through her. It makes her gasp and snaps her closed eyes open, then she's taking another deep breath and letting it come back.

Calm. She was calm and stress-free exactly where she was. In here there was no shooting, and there was no death. In here she can pretend that she's on the phone with Viola and the girl was talking about her newest obsession, she can pretend that her life wasn't so plain and that she wasn't so trauma inflicted.

But then there's the anxiously loud sound of laughter, and her happy little bubble is bursting. She opens her eyes and glares at the group of teenagers that walk past her. Three boys, one girl. They're all shirtless, and the girl is in a bikini. Suddenly y/n is reminded that she doesn't belong here, or anywhere for that matter.

Her oversized clothing looked like they were about to devour her, and still clad in black she was. Nothing colorful felt right at the moment, so she settled into whatever called for her. Black.

Her eyes snap away from them when the blonde boy catches her staring at them. He mutters something to his friends and they all laugh, they all turn towards her and she wishes she could disappear.

They don't approach her, but they're fully aware of the fact that she was still watching them. They talk harshly to one another for a minute, then the boys are rushing into the water to chase a wave with their boards.

She doesn't pay them much attention as her eyes are diverted toward a little crab walking the length of the beach.

She's almost tempted to reach out for the sea creature, letting its club at her hand, but she pulls her feet towards her when he passes by her and she watches it walk away.

"Hey," a voice calls out and y/n looks up to the source, it's the brunette girl. She presses her lips together and gives her a short, quick wave. She wasn't in the mood to talk.

The girl doesn't seem to get that as she approaches her, her eyes squinting against the sunlight and her skin glows a golden brown. "I'm Kie."

Feeling extremely awkward, the hijabi girl smiles at her. "y/n."

"It's nice to meet you, y/n." with furrowed eyebrows, y/n tries not to make this interaction any weirder than it has to be. "Nice to meet you too?"

Finally picking up on the uncomfortableness in the air, Kie points at the boys in the water. "They saw you staring earlier and wanted to impress you," She laughs and y/n's cheeks flush, suddenly her neck and ear heat up and she chokes on a forced laugh, "Um- okay? I'm sorry, I'm not really interested. They seem good though."

Kie nods and takes a seat beside the girl but purposefully giving her space, she glances at the blonde boy riding a wave and points at him with her chin. "That's JJ, he's the best surfer in Outer Banks."

y/n follows her eyes sight and finds the boy with the golden locks on the water, he's bent over as he balances himself on his board and rides out a large wave.

"He's pretty." Kie laughs, "Yeah he thinks he's pretty too." and y/n chuckles.

She doesn't notice, but this is the first time she's laughed since the shooting, and it makes her heart warm.

Kie keeps her eyes on the girl, then she's tilting her head. "Are you new around here? I don't think I've ever seen you around these parts before."

y/n nods, her bottom lip caught between her teeth nervously, "Yeah, my family and I moved her just this morning."

"Really? Where from?"

"New York." y/n cringes and Kie's eyes widen, "New York?! That's awesome. I've never seen a New Yorker before, that must be so cool."

A hesitant chuckle escapes y/n, "I'm not- I'm not from New York, I just moved here from there."

A soft 'oh' leaves Kie, "Where are you from?"

"Uhh, Middle East. It's somewhere between Europe, Asia, and Africa. Like right in the middle." Kie grins at the girl, suddenly a million times interested in her. "That's so cool, why'd you move to America? It's not the best country in the world."

y/n shrugs, "Parents got job offers, it be like that sometimes."

It was silent for a moment, then Kie scrambles off and y/n pressed her lips together, frustrated with herself. Great, she thinks to herself, can't even make friends anymore.

"Dr. Pepper or Pepsi?"

her head shoots up to meet the curly-haired girl's eyes and she smiles a genuine smile, her chest warms and her shoulder relax.

Maybe moving out of New York wasn't a bad idea after all.

────────────────────────────

The temperature outside was hot as hell, so y/n was forced into some light-colored clothes to relieve her of the heat. She wore a short-sleeved beige t-shirt with a brown striped flannel on top and beige pants that tightened her waist and ankles. She matched her silk brown hijab with them and pulled on her vans.

She would have successfully managed to leave the house without getting yelled at had she not tried to grab her purse from the living room.

"y/n?!" her mother's voice called for her from deep in the living room, she walks in with wide unreadable eyes, and y/n cringed into herself, "Yes?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To meet up with a friend?" she would hardly call Kiara a friend, more like the only person she knows on this whole island, but she'd do whatever just to leave these confining walls.

Her mother hesitates for a moment, "You've made a friend already?"

With raised eyebrows and pursed lips, y/n nods. "Mhm, we met just the other day. On the beach. She's invited me for lunch so," She points a thumb at the door behind her as she slowly steps towards it, sneakily trying to leave her mother's grasp before she tells her that she's not allowed to leave at all but what she does surprises her.

Her mother asks her to wait then she's rushing into her room, then she comes back a few minutes later with her wallet. y/n's eyebrows almost hide in her hijab from how high they've risen as her mother places a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. "Have fun and please be careful."

She doesn't reply, only turns around and rushes out the door. She feared if she stayed a moment longer she might break down and cancel leaving altogether.

Kiara didn't actually invite her for lunch, but she told her to meet up with her in a seafood restaurant. y/n didn't question her, seizing whatever opportunity thrown at her to leave her house.

It wasn't difficult to find Heyward's, seeing as it is literally the only restaurant on the island that provided seafood to the people. The smell of fish, both raw and cooking, invaded her nose and she almost gagged.

Her eyes scanned the crowd and settled on the head of tied-up curls, Kiara notices her presence and calls out for her to join her. Except she wasn't alone.

y/n walks over to her table, both her hands clutching to the strap of her purse as she pressed her lips together and gave a short-lived awkward wave to the boys manspreading on their chairs. She wasn't comfortable, not even a little bit.

Kiara stands up, "Hey, uhh— these are my friends! You know JJ," she points slightly at the shagged haired blonde boy who raised his eyebrows in surprise at his friend's statement, then she points to the other two. "That's John B and Pope."

John B had a backward cap on his head and an overused shirt on his body, and Pope wore a navy blue shirt with a light blue flannel on top. He sends her a soft wave with a welcoming smile and it puts her at ease, just for a moment.

"What's with the..." JJ trails off as he points to her hijab, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion and Kiara widens her eyes at him dramatically, "JJ!" she turns to y/n, "I am so sorry, please ignore him."

y/n chuckles silently, "It's okay, it's my hijab, does it bother you?"

JJ shrugs carelessly and shakes his head, "No it's just weird."

"You're weird." she turns to her friend, "I told my mom I'm having lunch with you so I guess you're stuck with me for the rest of the day." she smiles sheepishly and Kiara, "That's totally fine, my parents are at work today so it's just gonna be the two of us."

"Can I join?" JJ pipes up and both girls turn to him with sharp eyes, "No." he jumps back slightly and blinks at them once, "Jeez, fine. No need to be so aggressive about it."

y/n rolls her eyes at him and grabs a chair from a nearby table and sets it right next to Kiara, making sure to put a noticeable distance between herself and Pope.

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Being friends with Kiara and her 'pogue' friends was so much fun y/n realized, she's been spending a lot less time at home huddled by her parents and more with Kiara, either by the beach or near John B's house.

y/n made it crystal clear she wasn't going to his house with them under any circumstances, no matter how hard they tried to sway her, she had her feet planted.

They respected that enough to spend time with her by the lake where their boat was. The pouges spent most of their time drinking beer and getting high while y/n sat a bit away with her favorite soda and a bag of fries. It was the next best thing.

She couldn't mingle with them, and she couldn't risk the smell of alcohol and weed getting stuck on her which would eventually lead to her parents believing that she was going down the wrong road and hanging out around the wrong crowd.

She was getting better mentally, her desire to spend all day in bed was slimming as her need to disappear was barely making an appearance in her head. She didn't want to face her parents, and the idea of going back to school kept her awake at night, but at least her nightmares weren't as intense as they used to be.

It's been weeks and school ended, summer break gracing everyone with its presence but it was passing rather quickly. y/n had managed to spend a few days in the beach water while the rest of her days were spent in Kara's house or by John B's.

The light difference about tonight is the fact that she was, indeed, in John B's backyard. How'd she ended up here? Kiara dragged her.

The boys told them that the drinks container was broken which meant that their beers and her sodas were going to be hot by the time they get to the lake, so they were forced to go to John B's Cheatu.

"Ayyee," the tanned brunette greeted the girls with a wide grin, "Bienvenido a mi casa!"

y/n pretended to cringe at him, "Your Spanish is horrible," she let out a breathy giggle, leaning on the door frame as they settled in the living room. "Where's the soda you dragged me all the way over here for?"

John B's house was an absolute mess, the living room was trashed with clothes, cans, beer bottles, and leftover food packages.

Not wanting to be rude, y/n diverted her gaze to the boys taking up all the space around the room; JJ lay on the couch, leaving zero room for anyone else, Kiara sat on an armchair while John B and Pope shared the other couch.

John B raised his arms exaggeratedly, "Oh come on y/n! Stay a little while, would it really hurt?"

She raises her eyebrows, "The fact that I'm in a dude's house without an adult's supervision? Yeah actually, it would."

Kara's shoulders dropped at her gloomy mood, "Oh y/n, please? We'll tell your parents you've been with me the entire time and that you're safe."

"That won't bring them peace of mind, Kie. They will hunt me down and keep me in the house for the rest of my life, are you ready for that?"

She shares a look with JJ and he sends her a pointed glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "That will happen if they find out, which they don't have to." The mere suggestion almost made y/n turn around and leave altogether, "You want me to lie to my parents?"

It was JJ the turned to her with surprise, "You don't lie to your parents?"

"No! Of course not, because if I do they won't trust me, and if they don't trust me then I'm grounded for the rest of my life over inconvenient shit."

Pope was nodding in understanding and Kiara walked up to her, holding her hands, "I promise you won't be grounded. I promise you, okay? I'll beg your parents if I have to but stay a while, y/n. You're so hard on yourself with these things, it's literally nothing."

She had her reasons, but they wouldn't understand because they weren't raised the same way she was, she knew that. And she knew she should plant her feet and turn around and walk home, but as she glanced outside and noticed the setting sun, a shiver ran down her spine. y/n faced Kiara and nodded hesitantly.

She'd have to call her dad to pick her up in an hour's time.

────────────────────────────

It wasn't as bad as she thought she'd be, they gathered in the Cheatu's backyard when she agreed to stay, and that's where they lit a fire and shared jokes and tales. John B opened up to her about his missing father and Pope talked to her about his desired academic future which she related to on many levels.

It's funny, she really wanted to have a bright future but the mere thought of going back to school made everything that would come after it ridiculous and totally not worth it.

She never told him that of course, she didn't tell any of them anything, and maybe she should've, but she really couldn't bring herself to even think about that day nor care enough to let them know about it.

Maybe she should've focused more on her surroundings but after the long conversation with Pope, y/n started feeling tired so she pulled out her phone and texted her parents if they were free to pick her up from a 'friend's gathering', her father was the one to reply and ask her for the location.

When she looked up from her phone, trying to seem unsuspecting, she noticed just how close JJ sat to her, his blue eyes unblinking as he stared at her, his beer long forgotten but she can still smell it on him.

Her relationship with JJ was a strange one, although she kept her distance most of the time, it didn't stop her from joining their conversation or flirting with him specifically.

And even though he flirted back with her, she always made sure to let him know that they were all simply just friends and they could never be anything more.

It never stopped him from trying though.

She raises a single brow at him with a smirk pulling at her lips, she sinks deeper into her chair and leans her head on the edge of the chair, "Whatcha starin' at Maybank?"

He shrugs, "You." She hums, "Do you like what you see?" He nods shamelessly and heat rises up her neck to her cheeks, she prays it's dark enough to cover it. She removes her eyes from his, too busy trying to bite back a smile to keep eye contact with him.

"I like you, y/n." the words caused her to bark a laugh, "Woah there, you don't even know me JJ." He shrugs, "I know some things about you, and I'd like to get to know you better if you'd let me."

"And if I don't let you?" He shrugs again, "I'd still try to get to know you." y/n fakes a gasp, "Without my consent? That says a lot about JJ." He almost rolls his eyes but smiles at her, "I like the way you say my name."

Not saying a word, y/n realizes that this isn't really him, that's the alcohol boost in him. She presses her lips together and sighs as she gets up, her hand almost reaches out for him but she holds back, eventually, she lets her fingertips brush against his shoulder as she walks away.

"Get some sleep JJ."

Her words, along with feeling her touch for the first time, sober him enough to stare after her retreating figure, JJ furrows his eyebrows with parted lips at the realization of his fast-beating heart. He blinks once, twice, three times then turns to his friends. They're all busy chatter between them about something he couldn't bring himself to get invested in so instead he sinks into his chair and rests his head on the edge of it, repeating the girl in the hijab's actions, he releases a breath into the night.

"Holy shit y/n."

────────────────────────────

She almost did get grounded for staying at the Cheatu but when she brought up Kiara's presence, all was forgiven. Her father told her that if she ever did want to go back there, Kiara would have to be with her at all times.

She agreed of course, which is how she ended up at the Cheatu this afternoon. It was a few days after her interaction with JJ and the blonde boy doesn't seem to even remember it happening, it stung just a but what was she really expecting? A seemingly perfect American blonde boy to be actually interested in her? A dream. Nothing more nothing less.

She called Kiara and told her that she was at the Cheatu, waiting for them. Kiara informed her that she, Pope, and John B would be running just a bit late because Pope's father insisted that he finishes his chores before tagging along. She let them be, of course, telling her that she'll be waiting for them when they get back.

She wanders around the Cheatu, checking every room, and admiring the mess. John B's was a bit more put together than the guest room she'd grown to learn that it belonged to JJ most of the time. She never really knew why JJ spent most of his time at the Cheatu and she didn't bother to think too much about it, instead, she continues on her way and pauses in front of Big John's office door. Not wanting to invade her friend's privacy, y/n turns around and walks out to the backyard.

She hears the roar of an engine and her head shoots up in surprise and worry, Kiara said they'd be home late so there shouldn't be anyone here yet.

She gets up and walks towards the house but hides beside the door, glancing inside, y/n holds back a gasp at the sight of JJ walking in with a limp in his step and groans spilling off his lips as he lays on his couch. One of his hands rests on his ribs while the other slightly caress his bruising cheekbone.

Recognizing that she is in no danger, y/n opens the screen door and stares at JJ with concern, "JJ what the hell?"

At the sound of her voice, JJ jumps. He looks at her with surprise and then groans when another wave of pain washes over him. She's quick to react, her hands reaching out to him and gently pushing him back down on the couch.

He's beyond surprised, and he keeps glancing between her hands on his skin and her face confused, concerned face. "Who did this to you, Jay? Did you get in a fight with someone?" He doesn't reply, he can't, not with the way she pulls up his shirt and inspects the damage done to his ribs. Her fingertips trace the blueish-purple bruising and he hisses, she goes to pull away her hand but he's quick to hold it.

She gulped when she realizes he was holding her hand, then she meets his eyes and he was smiling at her ever so slightly, "You touched me," he stated matter-of-factly, "Because you're hurt, why are you hurt JJ?"

He ignores her question completely and repeats himself. With a sigh, y/n pushes herself away from him and walks deeper into the house. For a moment JJ thinks he might have fucked up and scared her away, but then she walks back in with a first aid kit and his heart runs with the wind.

She's cursing under her breath in a language he doesn't understand, and she forces him to stay still as she cleans off the blood of the cuts on his lips and forehead, then she proceeds to put a bandaid on them and try her best to ease the pain in his bruises, but she was no nurse and all she could offer was pain killers and pray he didn't break anything.

He sits up beside her and she's got her arms folded, still staring at him with a stoic face. "You're gonna tell me what caused this?"

He shrugs then winces, "My dad." he says simply and she presses her lips together, she doesn't need any more explanations, this was more than enough. Then she feels bad about asking in the first place and she's apologizing. "It's fine, you didn't know."

It was silent for a moment, then he's grinning at her like a fool, "You touched me." knowing she was never going to hear the end of it, y/n gets out of the couch and sits in the armchair across from him, "Don't flatter yourself Maybank."

He leans back and keeps his grin in place, "I meant what I said, you know," her heart almost skips a beat but she keeps her stare steady on him, "When I said I like you, I meant it. I do like you, and I would love to get to know you."

She shakes her head, "To what end?"

"What?" He asks, confused.

"To what end? I let you get to know me, and then what?"

He takes a moment to think about it, "What do you want?"

"I can't have what I want, not with you at least." It hurt the both of them, for her to say that and for him to hear it, but it was necessary. She knew he needed to hear this before he got any ideas before he got bolder with her before he thought about doing anything.

But what y/n didn't know about JJ, is that he's one stubborn man. "Why not?"

She scoffs, "Because, we're different, we're too different. Knowing guys like you, you wouldn't dare try to change yourself for me JJ, and I wouldn't ask you to because I wouldn't change myself for you either. That in itself should be enough."

He stares at her, unmoving and without a word, and when the engine of John B's car rings in their ears, JJ shrugs, "You don't know that."

────────────────────────────

The school was less than a month away and y/n was trying to come up with multiple different excuses to not attend the first week but so far she's come up empty, she knows her parents know she's going to try to talk them into not letting her go but they have their reasons ready too.

You've been doing so good, I think you'll be alright, you're being dramatic, it won't happen again, and you'll be fine.

She wasn't going to be alright, and she wasn't doing fine. She's been ignoring the dulling ache by making new friendships and filling her time with pointless tasks to not think about anything from before Outer Banks.

It was Viola's eighteenth birthday and y/n couldn't bring herself to leave her bed, not after receiving her first notification for the day saying 'it's Viola's s birthday! Make sure to say hello <3', the reminder she made a couple years ago making her curse her entire existence and wish it to go away.

Kiara tried calling her but she simply asked her to leave her alone, politely telling her that she hasn't been feeling well and that she will be spending her day indoors today. Kie understood of course, and she let the hijabi girl have her space.

JJ thought it was his fault, that what he said had pushed her away and it was his doings that causes her to not hang out with them today, especially since she's been looking forward to this boat ride for a while now.

By noon, y/n was barely holding it together. She sat on her bed with her knees pressed to her chest and her phone was across from her, her eyes glaring at it like it might go up in flames and it will save her the pain of going into Viola's contact and risk scrolling through their conversations.

She almost tears up at the idea, she's forgotten the last text she sent to her best friend before she died. It was the day of the shooting and y/n couldn't bring herself to open the app for days after, not until she received a text from Kie.

She almost burst into tears at the thought of texting her dead best friend happy birthday but she doesn't, instead, she rolls to the side and buries herself under her covers. For now, that's the best she could do.

────────────────────────────

Kiara called her later that evening inviting her to a keg party on the beach that John B was hosting, pulling the 'you're gonna be with me and the boys and I promise it's gonna make you feel so much better' card, she couldn't deny her because she needed something to get her mind off of today, so she dresses up in black jeans, short-sleeved navy t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, matching her black hijab with them.

The location of the party was close, so y/n had no trouble walking to it. By now she's learned all there is to know about living in Outer Banks, how she and the pogues lived on Th Cut side of the island while the richer people were living on the other side, Figure Eight.

She was able to hear the loud music playing up ahead, but then she pauses when the party comes to view. She didn't expect it to bother her so much, but seeing the huge amount of teenagers at the place, made her skin crawl with the urge to turn around and run.

And maybe she would've done exactly that, had it not been for Kiara and John B to call out for her. She groans silently and smiles at them, Kiara was quick to hug her and the smell of beer and alcohol overflowed her nose making her almost gag, "I'm so glad you were able to make it! I'm so sorry about the alcohol, do you want a Dr. Pepper? JJ got you some."

Another wave of the urge to run out of there washes over her at his name and her eyes immediately meet his, he shows her the red drink in his hand and she smiles at him gently. "Thanks."

She was restless, from sipping at her drink to keeping her eyes on all the people around her, making sure to not stand too close to drunken boys and walk away when a girl with a joint walked her way and she jumped every time the kids around her cheered 'drink! drink! drink! drink!' at some guy that wanted to get wasted.

Kie notices and pulls her away from the crowd, "Hey, are you sure you're okay?" y/n chews at her bottom lip and nods, "Mhm, like I said, haven't really been feeling myself." Kie didn't believe her, but she frowns anyway. "Do you want me to walk you back home? You can totally leave if you want."

"No it's fine, I'll leave when I'm ready to go, don't worry."

Before she gets to reply, loud cheers wave through the crowd and they've pulled away from their conversation, their attention focusing back on the party they both gasp when some rich dude had John B by his head in the water, drowning him.

Kiara was quick to run towards them, yelling and begging Topper to let John B go, then she was trying to yell at his girlfriend to let him go, y/n just stood aside as her chest tightened and her body started to shiver, her eyes watered and her body froze.

Suddenly she's not at the beach in Outer Banks anymore, she's standing in the hallway. The cheers around her weren't shouts of encouragement to finish a fight, they were screams of horror and fear.

Her chest closes up her throat and tears prick at her eyes, her vision glosses over and her hearing fades. For a moment, she thinks she might faint, but then a loud, painfully familiar bang goes out and she gasps. One gasp and she's falling apart.

A scream tips off her lips and she's scrambling to get away from the violence, if it was in her head or in front of her she didn't know, she couldn't tell. But all she saw was JJ with a gun pointed somewhere and his fingers repeatedly pulling at the trigger.

Her throat was raw, scratched from her screams of absolute terror and deeply struck trauma. She tries to get away from him, from everyone, tries to crawl away unsuccessfully and then a pair of slender arms pull around her and keep her close, Kie's voice asking her what's wrong and telling her that it was alright barely makes it through the fog around her mind.

Her screams stop, but her trembling and tears don't. Kie helps her up to her feet, barely, and walks her towards the Twinkie. She helps her settle in the very back of it as her chest heaves and gasps leave her, her chest tightens on her and she tries to tell the brunette that she can't breathe.

But then JJ comes in view and she almost screams again, almost tries to crawl away from him, the image of him with a gun burning very vividly in her mind but her throat is too raw, in too much pain to allow her to do that so she whimpers and cries some more.

"What the hell happened back there?" Kie was shouting at JJ, scolding him as Pope tried to drive reasonably fast to the Cheatu, trying to keep their friend alive and well. "What's happening to her?" JJ completely ignores Kie and asks about y/n.

"She's having a panic attack because some fucking dumbass shot a fucking gun right next to her!"

Another whimper and Kiara wraps her arms around her, her tight hold brings her enough comfort to calm down as Pope and JJ make sure that John B was alive and well and warm within the walls of his home.

When her breathing got back to normal, when she felt like her heart wasn't seizing within her chest, y/n told Kiara to go check on John B as she is unsure if she was even able to walk right now. Kie hesitated, not certain y/n was even in the right mindset to be left alone, but then JJ comes into the van and tells her that he will be looking after the girl.

When Kiara leaves, y/n almost calls out for her and begs her to stay, but she doesn't. Instead, she pulls her legs closer to her body and avoids eye contact with the blonde boy across from her, she's fully aware of the horrible state her hijab is in and how it's probably showing a few strands of hair, but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

"Are you okay?"

She breaks down at the question, tears immediately pool in her eyes and she couldn't help the single broken sob that left her, JJ doesn't hesitate in his action. He takes Kiara's place beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, gently bringing her closer to his body for a hug and allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

She knows she shouldn't do this, she knows she shouldn't let him touch her, but his arm was only on her shoulders, he didn't dare rub her back, he didn't dare try to remove her hijab, he just kept a gentle hold on her as she cried onto his shoulders. He gave her the chance to pull away if she wanted to, and she didn't.

Her hands gripped his t-shirt, she tried to calm down and not cry too much, thinking it might make her look like a child or a whiny crybaby. She pulls away after pulling herself together and covers her face with her hands, "Can you please turn around for a minute?" her voice is hoarse and dry, he nods and quickly gives her his back, giving her all the privacy she needed to undo her hijab and redo it.

"Thank you." he took it as his cue to turn back around, he also copied her position by pulling his knees up to his chest and he didn't even have to ask for her to know what was roaming his mind.

She sees the question in his eyes and she asks him one of her own, "Why did you—" she choked on words, then she takes a deep breath and tries again, but he's already replying. "We found a sunk boat this morning, we found a hotel key inside and we checked out the room. There was a safe with some money inside and the gun, I took them."

His trust in her was eerie, but she appreciated it. "Why did you have it on you at the party?"

He glances down, almost ashamed, "I couldn't just leave it at the Cheatu, I didn't mean to actually use it, I'm so sorry for scaring you."

The reality of the situation almost drowns her, "You had a gun, at a party full of teenagers. JJ what- what did you even want to do with that?!" she almost starts crying again, but she brushes away a stray tear frustratingly.

"I know you think this is bad—"

"Think?! It is bad! It's horrible and terrifying and heartbreaking," she snaps, "And it's even worse because you've probably never held a firearm a day in your life and you just went swinging it at a high school party!"

JJ knows better than to reply, he knows her frustration and panic at his actions from deeper within so he stays quiet and listens to every word she has to say.

"What if—" she cuts herself off, the image of a dying Viola in her arms invades her mind and attacks her, causing another wave of tears to pool at her lashline. "What if you accidentally shot someone? You know you could go to jail for that right?"

His jaw clenches, "Topper was drowning John B, what did you expect me to do?"

"Tackle him to the ground or something! Don't fucking shoot a gun at kids!"

JJ remains silent, and the silence almost kills her. A few minutes pass and he sighs, "Why did you move to Outer Banks, y/n?"

"What?"

"We asked you once why'd you move to Outer Banks and you said 'circumstances led us here', why did you move to Outer Banks?"

She stares at him, blinking repeatedly, wondering if he was playing tricks on her or if he was actually genuine with his question. She decides that it doesn't actually matter, "There was a shooting at my school," JJ was taken aback, he wasn't really sure what to expect, but it wasn't that. "I lost my best friend," remembering what day it was caused a tear to roll down her cheek, "She died in my arms because a guy with a gun decided to shoot at some kids."

He was apologizing before she even finished her sentence, JJ couldn't believe something so horrible happened to the girl that laughed at his sex jokes and helped patch him up after a fight with his dad. She seemed too pure to see such darkness, and he was beyond sorry for being the reason that darkness came loaming over her again.

He was tempted to hold her again, but the way she cradled herself told him that she wouldn't let him, so he settled on sitting across from her, continuous apologies tumbling off his rosy lips.

"JJ," his name with her voice pauses him, and he looks up at her with those gorgeous icy eyes. She sees it in his orbs, how truly sorry he was, how awful he felt, and it makes her feel bad for the way she reacted, although she's fully aware that it wasn't something she was able to control at the moment. "You didn't know, it wasn't your fault. I just hope you don't carry a gun around where you went."

He nods quickly, "I won't." y/n stares at him, trying to read his face or his body language, then she notices him hesitating. She tilts her head in confusion and he raises a hand facing her, his fingers parted and almost aching to feel her touch once again. She glances at his face and sees the pleading look in his eyes and then she's doing the same, the tips of her fingers meeting his own large ones and JJ lets out a breath.

He glances between her and their touching hands and she almost melts at the hearty eyes pouring out of him, "Thank you." She doesn't ask for what, she doesn't say a word. Just rests her chin on her arm as her hand fights the urge to intertwine her fingers with his.

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj obx fic #jj obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #obx jj #obx

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venicebixch · 3 years ago

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Do It For Me part 2

a little bit of angst in this one but not bad. it’s mostly just building the tension. this was fun to write though. enjoy! i’m very excited to keep writing this story.

It’s been a few days since I met everyone at the hype house, and today I’m meeting up with some of them again. We have plans to go to the movies.

I pick up my phone to call Nai to get some details.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Hey, what movie are we going to see?”

“I wanted to watch ‘Last Night in Soho’ but the boys are insisting on this weird movie called ‘Lamb’ so I guess we’re watching that,” she says. I swear I can hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Oh, I heard about that one. It’s not even in English,” I say laughing.

“That’s what I’m saying, but whatever.”

“When does it start?”

“10:15,” say says. “I’ll be there to pick you up in about 45 minutes if that’s cool?”

“That’s perfect, I’ll be ready.”

“Alright I’ll see you. Bye.”

“Bye,” I hang up the phone and head to my room to get ready.

She texts me she’s here and I head down to her car. It’s her, Vinnie, Jett, and Jack. Jett is up front and Vinnie and Jack are in the back.

I let out a small sigh of annoyance when I see the only seat open is next to Vinnie. I never replied to him so I hope this isn’t awkward.

I climb into the car, and everyone except Vinnie greets me. I ignore it, even though that kind of got under my skin. Then I remember I can’t be too mad, I left the guy on read for 4 days.

I can’t help but notice he looks especially good tonight. A black turtle neck sweater with some writing on it, but I can’t stare long enough to read it. Khaki style pants and a nice combination of earrings, rings, and necklaces.

“So are we gonna stop at the gas station and get snacks before?” Nai asks.

“Please, they don’t have the sour gummy worms I want at the theater,” Jett says.

She pulls into the gas station parking lot. Jett and Jack get out of the car immediately.

“Are you coming in?” Nai turns to ask me.

“No, I don’t need anything.” I say.

“What about you?” She turns to ask Vinnie.

Please go inside.

“No I’m good,” he says.

Shit, now I’ve gotta sit alone with him.

She shuts the car door and Vinnie and I sit in awkward silence for a good 30 seconds.

Suddenly he looks over at me. “How have you been?”

Seriously? Small talk? Okay.

“Um, I’ve been okay,” I say, shrugging.

“Good,” he says. “I’ve been good too.”

I giggle a little bit.

“What?” He asks, confused.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

We sit in silence again before he says, “I feel like you don’t like me.”

“Why?” I ask, obviously knowing the answer already.

“I don’t know, you just seem like you don’t like me.”

“I have no problems with you, Vinnie.” I say in the most monotone voice I can muster.

“Okay,” he says, sounding unconvinced.

Finally the others come back out and get back in the car. We head to the movies, and I order my popcorn and drink. It’s unusually quiet for this movie theater, they’re usually packed here.

We head to the theater room and walk up the stairs until we find a row we want to sit in. I try to let everyone find their seats before I do so I can avoid sitting next to Vinnie. I don’t care to keep feeling the awkward tension between us for the duration of this movie.

But of course, Vinnie lingers back trying to let me sit down first. I sigh quietly and finally give in, having a seat next to Nai with Vinnie sitting down next to me on the other side.

The movie starts and it’s ridiculously weird. I have no idea what’s even happening, the damn thing is in Russian or something, with subtitles. I can’t focus on reading them with Vinnie constantly fidgeting next to me. Shaking his leg, patting the armrest with his hand. And he keeps staring at me as if I don’t have peripheral vision.

I notice him looking at me again and snap my head to look at him trying catch him in the act. His head shoots forward, his eyes on the screen trying to act like he wasn’t just staring into my soul. I stare back at him long enough to make him a little uncomfortable. He shifts in his chair, glancing at me.

“I have to pee,” I finally say, sighing.

He nods and stands to let me out of the row. I shuffle my way down the stairs and head to the bathroom.

Once I’m finished, I come out from the stall and start washing my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vinnie walk in.

I scoff, throwing my paper towel away. “You know this is the women’s restroom, right?”

He rolls his eyes and makes his way over to me, stopping inches from my face. I step back trying to keep a little distance between us but he follows. I’m against the wall now and can’t move back any more.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, annoyed.

He leans in a little closer.

“I don’t know what your fucking problem with me is but you need to knock it off. I didn’t do a damn thing to you and you’ve been rude as hell to me from the moment we met,” he says. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my face.

“Oh please, you’re so full of yourself,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“You,” I put my hand up to his chest. “You are so full of yourself you think just because I’m not tripping over myself trying to suck your cock that I must hate you.” I laugh.

He looks angry now.

“What? You’re gonna tell me I’m wrong?” I say.

He shakes his head. “You’ve just been rude to me and you know it.”

“No, you’ve been rude to me since I turned you down the other night. Ignoring me, acting cold toward me. What, did I hurt your ego or something?”

He narrows his eyes and scans my face for a moment before letting out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, so that’s what you think this is?”

“That’s what I know this is,” I say.

“You know you left me on read for days, right? I reached out and you ignored me.”

“Did it occur to you that I was irritated at the fact you were rude to me the rest of that night before I left? I didn’t care to talk to you.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever you say, y/n. I know what you’re doing.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, sounding confused. I know exactly what he’s talking about.

He leans in a little closer, putting his mouth up to my ear. “Keep up this little act. I think it’s exciting,” he says softly.

He leans away and gives me a coy smile. “Nice perfume by the way,” he adds before walking out of bathroom.

#vinniehackerfanfic #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie fanfic #vinnie hacker #vinniehacker #vinnie #vincent hacker #vincenthacker #vinnie angst #vinnieimagines #vinnie imagines #vinnie x reader #enemies to lovers trope #enemies to lovers #fanfic

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bi-bard · 3 years ago

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Please Say That You're Joking (Pt.1) - Chuck Shurley Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Please Say You're Joking (Pt. 1) [You can read part 2 by clicking here!]

Pairing: Chuck Shurley X Winchester!Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 2,930 words

Warning(s): mentions of sex, threats of violence

Summary: (Season 4; Season 11) (Y/n) had a single one-night stand while coping with loss in a not healthy way... if only they had a clue about the weight of their actions.

Author's Note: I was recently going back through some of the "lighter" episodes of Supernatural because I wanted to watch something I could chuckle at. That's where this came from.

This might be the most crackheaded thing I've written in a while.

Also, the amount of things I had to bullshit my way through this is actually ridiculous.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Sam, Dean, and I walked into the motel room. We were all confused and slightly scared.

We had gone to a comic book shop to do some work on a case. However, we were then called fans.

Fans of what?

Well, fans of a series of books about our lives.

I was the middle Winchester child. Two years younger than Dean, two years older than Sam. I was beyond confused when I saw some weird, romanticized version of me on the cover of a book.

"This is so weird," I mumbled, plopping onto one of the beds in the room.

Sam jumped onto his laptop and started researching. Dean was holding one of the books, reading through it. I didn't even want to touch it.

"I don't like how he describes (Y/n)," Dean commented. "It's weird. It's like he's in love. Listen to this..."

Dean dramatically clears his throat and starts to read in an even more dramatic voice, "'Even after a hard hunt, (Y/n) could easily be seen as the most beautiful of the siblings. They mimicked the beauty of their mother more than their brothers. There's no bruise or cut that could take the loveliness away from the natural curves of (Y/n)'s face. If only they could see how everyone else would stare-"

"Okay, ew," I muttered, walking to the table. "What'd you find?"

"Well, it seems like Carver Edlund is a pen name," Sam shrugged. "And the fans are intense."

"As in," Dean asked, closing the book and joining the two of us at the table.

"Well," Sam handed me the laptop so Dean and I could look at it, "there's fanfiction. About all of us."

"What's this, 'Sam/Dean'," I asked.

"It's... me and Dean... together."

"They just don't care that we're related," Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"God, this is so weird."

"So, how do we find this guy," I asked.

--time skip--

We managed to find the publisher of the novels and found her house.

"So, you published the 'Supernatural' books," I asked as we walked in.

"Yep," she nodded. "Yeah, gosh. These books... they never really got the attention that they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap."

"Could not agree with you more," I said. "We're hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we can start publishing again," she replied excitedly.

"No, no, no," Dean immediately shut her down. "I mean, why... why would you want to do that? It's such a complete series with Dean going to hell and all."

"Oh my god, that was one of my favorite ones," she rambled. "Dean was so strong and sad and brave. And Sam... I mean... the best ones are when they cry... like in 'Heart' when Sam had to kill Madison; the first woman since Jessica he'd really loved. When Dean had to call John in 'Home' and ask him for help. Or when (Y/n) went back to the motel room after getting kidnapped and just had to sit in their own head and had to truly process not only the death of their mother but now their father. The mixed feelings were amazing."

"You're a really big fan," I noted. She nodded.

"Gosh, if only real men were that open about their emotions."

"Real men," Dean asked.

"I mean, no offense," she replied. "How often do you cry like that?"

"Well, right now I'm crying on the inside," he muttered.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

"How am I supposed to know this is legit?"

"Oh, trust me," Dean mumbled. "We're legit."

"Well, I don't want some smart-ass article making fun of my boys," she snapped as she sat in her chair.

"Oh, never," I replied quickly. "We actually are big fans."

"You read the books?"

"Cover to cover," I promised.

"What's the year and model of the car?"

"1967 Chevy Impala," Dean smiled proudly.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my- uh... Sam's birthday," Sam replied.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?"

"Umm... 174," Sam said nervously.

"(Y/n)'s first hunt?"

"Vampire in Washington," I answered. "Dean was at the motel sick and (Y/n) almost chopped John's head off when he scared them."

"(Y/n)'s favorite memory that's not related to hunting?"

I smiled, "Helping Sam get ready for a date when he was a teenager because Sam didn't trust what Dean had told him."

"Dean's favorite song?"

"It's a tie," Dean replied. "Between Zep's 'Ramble On' and 'Traveling Riverside Blues.'"

She finally laughed and smiled again, "Okay, okay. What do you wanna know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name," Sam asked.

"Oh, no. I can't," she shook her head.

"We just wanna talk to him," Sam continued. "You know, get the 'Supernatural' story in his own words."

"He's very private," she shrugged. "Like Salinger."

"Please," Sam tried again. "Like I said, we're um... big fans."

Sam unbuttoned his shirt enough to show his anti-possession tattoo. Dean pulled his shirt to the side to do the same. I rolled my eyes and yanked the arm of my jacket down and pulled up the sleeve of my t-shirt. I don't wear as many layers as them and I had opted to put the tattoo on my upper arm because I thought it looked nicer.

"Awesome," the lady mumbled before standing up. "Y'know what?"

I looked away as she pulled her pants down.

"I got one too."

"Wow, you are a fan," I slapped Dean's arm. The lady fixed her clothing before grabbing a pen and paper.

"Okay," she said. "His name's Chuck Shurley-"

And I stopped listening after that. I knew that name... why did I know that name... oh... oh no. I'm gonna kill him. We're going to meet this man and I am going to end up killing him.

I followed Sam and Dean as they started walking out of the woman's house.

"Excuse me," she called as we reached the door. We looked back at her. "I'm sorry, but you look exactly like how I picture (Y/n) when I read the books."

I chuckled, "Thanks."

"He describes (Y/n) with so much detail," she smiled. "You could play them in a movie."

"Thank you," I waved as we walked out.

"'You could play them in a movie,'" Dean teased.

"I know who Chuck is," I said, ignoring him.

"What," he asked. I nodded. "How?"

I pointed to get into the car. I got in the back seat and Sam and Dean sat upfront. Dean started driving to the address the lady gave us before I started speaking.

"Okay, when you went to hell, Sam's not the only one who ran off," I explained. "I wasn't gone for four months... just two weeks. In those two weeks, I got involved in a single one-night stand. The name he gave me was Chuck Shurley."

"You screwed the man who wrote books about us," Dean asked, sounding angry.

"Do you think I knew he was writing books based on our lives?"

"He had to have known who you are," Sam added. "This isn't an accident. He has to get visions or something."

"Yeah, I know," I nodded. "He made money off of my name and then screwed me."

"Damn," Dean mumbled. "I missed a hell of a lot."

I rolled my eyes.

--time skip--

I knocked on the door loudly. Sam grabbed my arm, shaking his head at me. The door was opened and I smiled obnoxiously as Chuck. He was in a robe, his boxers, and an old white shirt. He looked tired and like he hadn't had a goodnight's sleep in days.

"Chuck Shurley," Dean asked.

"Chuck Shurley that wrote the Supernatural books," Sam added.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "This is Sam... Dean... and I'm (Y/n)... the ones you've written books about."

Chuck sighed and went to shut the door. I stepped in, stopping it with my foot.

"Listen, I appreciate the enthusiasm, I really do and I remember you," he motioned at me, awkwardly grinning before seeming to shake the memories out of his head. I almost slapped him right then. "But please... go get a life."

"You see," Dean followed me, helping to force our way inside. Sam made sure the door shut behind us. "We have a life... and you're selling books about it."

"Okay, this isn't funny," Chuck mumbled.

"You're right," I said. "We just wanna know how you're doing it?"

"I'm just a writer, I'm not doing anything."

"Then why do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of 'Misery' thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a 'Misery' thing!"

"No, it's not," I shook my head. "Believe me, we're not fans."

"What do you want then," he asked.

"I'm Sam... and that's Dean and (Y/n)," Sam tried again.

"Those are fictional characters," Chuck yelled. "They aren't real!"

Dean grabbed him and pulled him outside.

"Wait, wait-"

"We aren't kidnapping you, calm down," I rolled my eyes. Dean opened the hidden compartment in the impala's trunk.

"Are those real guns?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And real rock salt, real fake IDs."

Chuck let out a laugh at it, "Well, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number-one fans. That... That's awesome. So, I-I think I've got some poster in the house."

"Chuck, stop," I rolled my eyes, grabbing his arm as he went to walk away.

"Please don't hurt me," he begged.

"How much do you know," Sam asked. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Have you not been listening," I asked. "The real question is how do you?"

"Because I wrote it," he explained.

"You kept writing?"

"The books never came out because the publisher went bankrupt," he furrowed his eyebrows.

I stepped back, letting go of his arms.

"Okay, wait a minute," Chuck crossed his arms. "This is some kind of joke, right? Did Phil put you up to this?"

"Oh my god," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. I grabbed his robe. "I'm sorry but I'm really tired. Nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n) Winchester, these are my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. You wrote and published books about us, probably knew who I was, and then you still slept with me."

He stared at me in shock.

"What," I asked.

"The last names were never in the books," he mumbled. "I never told anyone about that. I never even wrote that down."

"Then I guess we have a lot to talk about," I let go of his robe.

The three of us followed him inside.

--time skip--

"I got a visit from Cas," Dean explained as he walked in. "I've some important information."

After talking to Chuck and getting a draft of what was supposed to happen, we were all panicking. Dean told us to wait here. Lilith was going to come for Sam and we both thought it'd be harder if there was more than one of us here at all times.

Now, Dean was coming back from seeing Chuck.

"And that important information is...," Sam trailed off.

"He's a prophet of the lord," Dean said, smirking at me.

I shut my eyes, letting my head fall forward.

"Please say you're joking," I mumbled.

"Nope," Dean replied.

Sam looked over at me. He only started chuckling after his brother broke.

Dean was laughing his head off within seconds, "You screwed a prophet!"

"Shut up," I groaned. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Archangel will kill you."

"I'll happily pay that price," I muttered. "I slept with a prophet."

"At least that means he didn't write himself to sleep with you," Sam tried to comfort me.

"Yeah, God just decided I was supposed to sleep with the guy publishing books about my life," I replied sarcastically. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Come on, it could be worst-"

"Sam, love you, but don't finish that sentence if you even kind of value your life," I muttered.

I was desperate for this conversation to just end.

--time skip--

After all was said and done, and Chuck accidentally helped us chase Lilith away for a while, we gave Chuck a lift back to his place.

I followed him up to his door, offering to look around and make sure that he's safe. He shook his head.

"I have an archangel protecting me," he reminded me. "Can't get any safer than that."

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, by the way," he said. "About us. I didn't recognize you until after... it all... and I didn't say anything because I didn't really know how to explain it. The whole event makes me feel all scummy."

"It's alright," I replied with a chuckle. "It's fine, I promise."

He offered me a nervous smile, "Y'know, in all of my visions, you're the most vivid thing."

With a grin, I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. I stepped back and headed back toward the impala. I made sure to take note of his nervous and flustered face.

"See you around, Chuck!"

"You... You too," he called after me. I got in the backseat and got comfortable.

"So... screwing the prophet wasn't that bad," Dean asked.

I just rolled my eyes, waving through the window at Chuck as Dean pulled away from the curb. Leave it to a Winchester to end up in a situation like that.

--time skip (season 11)--

Sam and I followed Dean with our guns ready. Dean was following the amulet that he had owned for a long time without even knowing it could show us where God was.

Everyone had been infected by Amara only minutes ago but now it was okay and Dean's amulet was glowing.

"Holy shit," I mumbled, seeing who was walking over to us.

Chuck.

He was supposed to be dead. That's why Kevin's prophet powers had been activated.

"No way," Dean said.

"Hey," Chuck... or God said. "We need to talk."

Despite our understandable hesitation, Chuck reached forward, teleporting all of us back to the bunker. I stepped away from him, slightly overwhelmed.

"(Y/n)," Chuck walked over and tried to grab my arm. I instinctually slapped him. I was nothing but confusion and anger. "I deserved that. Just, please?"

I stepped away again.

From behind Chuck stepped Kevin's ghost. My breath caught in my throat. The poor boy had been through so much shit because of us.

Kevin told us about how we looked stressed and that we should listen to Chuck.

Then, Chuck waved his hand. Kevin turned into a ball of white and blue light before ascending beyond the bunker.

"Where'd he go," I asked.

"Heaven, where he deserves," Chuck promised. I nodded.

I listened to the rant about how Chuck had abandoned us all and how awful things were. Then, the conversation turned to the plan to stop Amara. The boys talked about needing Lucifer and Chuck got incredibly upset. In a fit, he went to leave. I stepped in front of him.

"No," I said bluntly. "Even if you want to avoid the subject of your estranged son, you can't just leave."

"(Y/n)-"

"Sam, Dean," I looked at them. "Give us a minute?"

They both nodded, glaring at Chuck on their way out. I tried to ignore the instincts that were telling me that Chuck was just selfish.

"(Y/n)," Chuck mumbled.

"Just answer my questions," I said. "Then we can discuss what to do with Amara without you storming away recklessly. Okay?"

He nodded.

"Have you been God the whole time," I asked.

He nodded.

"You wrote all of our stories?"

Another nod.

"Did you write that I was going to sleep with you?"

I felt manipulated and angry. I was desperate for an answer. I knew that this could've made me feel like dirt, but I needed to know.

"No," Chuck said. I clenched my jaw, ready to call him a liar. "I told you. I had been pretty much hands-off for a long time. Did I know who were? Absolutely. I'm sorry I lied to you about that. But I didn't plan anything between us. We weren't some divine plan."

I nodded, looking down.

"You know how Dean and Amara are connected," he asked. I nodded, looking back at him. "We're like them."

"And that's not a divine plan-"

"I'm not doing a good job explaining this," Chuck shook his head. "It feels like we're like them. Like there's this bond that just happened as soon as we met."

"You lied to me, for years," I said. "Saying we have some bond isn't gonna fix that."

"I know."

We both fell silent. Slowly, I started laughing. Chuck furrowed his eyebrows, "My only one-night stand... and it was God."

Chuck started laughing with me while I really processed what I had done.

I slowly stopped laughing.

I didn't notice until it was too late that Chuck had slowly gotten closer to me. As soon as his lips brushed mine, I pushed him back. Not hard, but enough to get him to step away.

"No," I mumbled. "Not that, no."

Chuck nodded, "Got it."

"Now," I sighed, "we need to actually plan to stop Amara, and if we need Luci-"

"We don't," he said bluntly. "We can do something else. We don't need him. Okay?"

I nodded. In my gut, I trusted him. Maybe that was me being an idiot but I did trust him. For now at least.

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 3 years ago

Text

popcorn & pronouns

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Remus, Roman Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Dukeceit, Creativitwins Warnings: Not much to warn for in this one. Language, a little bit of suggestiveness, vague non-detailed descriptions of a horror movie. Word count: 3402

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

Dukeceit Week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: A movie night date leads to an important conversation. Already being t4t makes it a lot easier. Or, in Remus's own words, “This is just, like, going to be a week of people coming out to me, I guess. Huh.”

Notes: Day 6 of Dukeceit Week 2021! Almost there! @dukeceitweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, where each piece can be read without any context. Takes place 9 months after college; at the start of the story, Janus uses only they/them pronouns.

“Ooh, popcorn! Can I have some?” Roman popped his head into the kitchen of the apartment he, Remus, and Logan had shared in the nine or so months since they had all graduated college.

“No, Jan and I are having a date in twenty minutes,” Remus said, waving Roman off without looking away from the air popper.

“Okay, I don’t see how that’s relevant to my question.” Roman pushed himself to sit on the counter by the sink. “I mean, that’s really cute, I hope you have fun. But can I have some popcorn?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Make your own when I’m done.”

“But you make it better!” Roman pouted overdramatically.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “All I do is plug in the machine?”

“Right, which is better than me doing it.” Roman grinned at them. “Less work for me.”

“Hey!” Remus swatted his arm. “The transphobia, honestly—”

“Well, if you making it for me is transphobic to you, then you not making it for me is—” Roman broke off quite suddenly, his expression undergoing several shifts very fast that Remus could not make sense of. Which was… unusual, to say the least. Roman was normally the one person they could always count on understanding. They didn’t like this new development one bit.

“Ro?”

“Iiiiiit’s… queerphobic to me,” Roman said at last, a worried pinch to his eyebrows. He laughed, and it almost didn’t sound forced. “So we’re at a tie, so you should just make me popcorn.”

“First of all, I’m queer too, make your own damn popcorn. Second—” Remus turned away from the popcorn machine and gave Roman his full attention, leaning back against the kitchen island and tilting his head to the side. “Do you wanna talk about whatever the fuck that was?” So far as Remus knew, Roman was bi; that was the label he’d been using for years and years, so long that it practically felt like forever. Since almost the very beginning of high school. Since before Remus had questioned their gender, even. Only last week, he’d called the light switch biphobic without hesitation when it broke.

Whatever had happened to make him so very deliberately not call himself bi just now, it was new.

Roman’s expression closed up very fast indeed, but not before Remus caught a flash of something he was almost certain was fear. “No.”

“You know it’s okay to question, right?” Remus inquired awkwardly. “No matter what specifically, and no matter what the outcome is? Yeah?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know I’d still love you no matter what, right? Even if you were, like, a straight man—like, I would make so many jokes about not agreeing with your lifestyle, but—Ro, you know everything is always gonna be okay, right?”

Roman glared at him. “Remus, I don’t want to talk about it.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I’m definitely not straight.”

Remus blinked and raised their hands. “Alright. I didn’t mean literally straight, I just meant—you could be literally whatever, and it would be cool. That was—like—the most extreme example I could think of, you know?”

Roman let out a slight huff of laughter. “Thanks,” he said reluctantly after a pause. “It’s nothing, though.”

“Bullshit,” Remus said immediately.

“It—” Roman swallowed. “I need it to be nothing, okay?”

“If anyone’s making you feel shitty, I’ll beat them up,” Remus said immediately. “Even if it’s Patton. Just drop the names. I’ll do it. I’ll—”

“Remus, it’s fine. I want to stop fucking talking about it now!” Roman snapped.

Remus hesitated, fumbling for what to do or say next, everything about the conversation feeling just a little wrong and sideways.

Roman sighed. “Sorry.” He pushed off the counter, went to the fridge, and stared into it for a solid thirty seconds, then took a cheese stick out of the door. “I’ll make my own popcorn later,” he mumbled and retreated back to his room.

“Damn, alright,” Remus said to the empty room. “Be like that, I guess.” They flung their hands into the air and went to get the butter they’d been melting in the microwave before Roman’s appearance.

Roman would talk to them about it, whatever it was, eventually. He always did. And whatever was bugging him, Remus would figure out a way to bug it back until it stopped and Roman was all happy and bubbly again. Because that was what Remus always did. It would be fine. It was just a waiting game.

Remus sighed. He always hated waiting.

***

“Mmkay,” Remus said, when Janus had arrived, and they had worked together to move the TV out of the living room and into Remus’s room, and they had settled in on Remus’s bed—Remus sitting up against the headboard and Janus half-laying in Remus’s lap with their long thin legs stretched out along the bed and their head on his chest—and the popcorn had been set beside them where they could both reach it, and the blanket nest had been fluffed once more. “What shall we watch?”

Janus was silent for a long moment. Actually, come to think of it, they had been quiet since they’d arrived at the apartment—even more quiet than usual. But Remus was almost certain they weren’t nonverbal, seeing as they had exchanged a few fond words with him. It just hadn’t been very many words.

“Janny, baby?” Remus leaned forward, over their shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of their face.

Janus had their fingers knotted in the blanket that was spread over their lap, fidgeting with it anxiously, a thinking-hard expression on their face.

“Baby?” Remus curled one hand lightly around theirs. “You good?”

“Choices are too hard right now,” Janus said at last.

“Okay, that’s okay. Do you know what you need?”

“I want to watch a movie.” Janus frowned. “I just can’t choose.”

“Gotcha. No problem.” Remus pressed a kiss to their cheek. “I’m really good at choosing.” He threaded his fingers through Janus’s long hair, scratching soothingly at their scalp in just the way he knew they liked, and pulled up the library of movies, switching from Roman’s profile to his own.

“How’s some really cheesy horrible horror film we can make fun of sound?” he asked, scrolling with the remote and still playing with Janus’s hair with his other hand. “I know we have a bunch of those, I loved ’em when we were kids and I think they’re funny.”

“That sounds fine.” Janus nodded and relaxed a little further against Remus.

“Good.” He kissed the top of their head. “Do you need anything else?”

Janus shook their head. “I’ve just been kind of stressed lately. Work’s been shit, and all that. It’s fine. I just want to cuddle and things.”

“Ooh, ‘and things,’ I like the sound of that,” Remus teased, sliding his hand gently to their chin and drawing them to twist around far enough that he could kiss them soft and slow.

“I didn’t say what kinds of things,” Janus said innocently, their eyes still closed and so close to Remus that their lips brushed against his as they spoke. “Perhaps I could be persuaded later.”

“I’ll be sure to prepare my best arguments,” Remus said, leaning slightly up to kiss their forehead and then back down to their lips for another lazy kiss, taking his time and exploring Janus’s mouth until they sighed and melted against him.

“A compelling preview,” they murmured, their eyes still closed and the slightest smile curling at their lips.

Remus meant to make some kind of witty quip in return, really he did, but all that came out of his mouth was a quiet, awed, “Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful, Jan.”

Janus’s eyes opened and met his for a moment, soft and vulnerable, before they turned and hid their face in his neck. “Love you,” they whispered against his skin.

“Mm, I love you too,” Remus said happily, wrapping his arms securely around Janus and kissing the top of their head. “Love your pretty eyes and skin and hair and body, love how clever you are, love your scary goth clothes, love your snark, love your stims, love you—”

Janus whined wordlessly into his neck, pressing kisses to it and fisting their hands in the front of his shirt.

Remus chuckled, taking a handful of their hair and gently tugging until they looked up at him once more. “Do you want to watch a movie at all, or do you just wanna make out? Cause I’d be good with either, but if you wanna do a movie, we should get on that before we’re too distracted.”

“Oh.” Janus leaned their head back a little until it was resting against Remus’s hand. “Not that I don’t want to make out, but—”

“Nah, I gotcha. Gotta at least get through the popcorn, am I right?” Remus cast about for the remote, lost in the blanket pile, as Janus shifted about until they faced the television again.

“There it is!” Remus snatched the remote up, clicking through the library on the television until he saw the particular film he was thinking of and pulled it up. “This look good?”

“‘When moving into their new house, little do our protagonists know it is haunted by a demonic serial killer. Will they get out in time? Or will they be his next victims?’” Janus read the summary aloud. “Sounds absolutely thrilling. Extremely original. Love the bad Photoshop on the cover. I’m sure the acting will be of the highest quality.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s so shitty, I love it. So many cheesy effects and fake blood, it’s the actual stupidest shit,” Remus assured them. “I love it, though. Went as the demon thing for Halloween when I was nine. Nobody fucking knew what I was, but I had the time of my life. And got fake blood on Roman when he wasn’t looking. It was great.”

Janus chuckled, reaching up to brush their fingertips against Remus’s cheek. “Well, with such a glowing review from someone so attractive, how can I resist?” they said fondly.

“That’s the spirit!” Remus hit play.

Remus had watched this particular movie more times than they could count over the course of their childhood. He peppered commentary throughout the film:

“This is my favorite part, if you pay attention you can see her real fingertips holding onto the fake hand she’s about to get chopped off!”

“There’s a jumpscare in this scene, I know you hate those—okay, hit the skip-ten-seconds button in three, two, there. Perfect. Dumbass demon movie can’t even trust itself to be creepy without cheap scares.”

“Look, I know the mom is supposed to have some kind of hot blonde thing going on for the horny straight men in the audience, but she’s got nothing on you.”

“For some reason they made a director’s commentary and it actually includes the fake blood recipe they used, I’ll show you sometime!”

Janus, in turn, provided brilliant, extremely snarky roasts, mostly of either the actors’ absolute lack of skill or the gaping plot holes:

“Oh, yes, going alone to the attic at midnight without so much as a candle is a fantastic idea, nothing bad could possibly happen in this scene.”

“Listen, I can excuse the children because they’re about eight years old, but do you think this man has ever even heard of acting? Or even, like, speaking in a non-monotone?”

“I am truly fascinated by the special effects department’s understanding of human anatomy.”

“So, the demon feeds on misery? Why hasn’t it taken up residence in a large office building? I mean, come on, hundreds of souls in an environment designed to grind out constant levels of misery? It’s perfect. The poor thing must be starving out here in the two-point-five-kids-and-a-dog suburbs, every meal it gets is tiny. I would be so much better at its job than it is.”

At last the credits rolled.

“Wanna see pictures of the costume I made?” Remus asked.

“Sure.” Janus sounded amused.

“Lemme just—” Remus scrolled through their camera roll for a minute. “Oh, here they are.” They displayed their phone to Janus; tiny nine-year-old Remus, who sported long tangled brown hair in two ponytails, was draped in a black curtain, donated by his great-aunt, that he had very enthusiastically taken a pair of scissors to to create a tattered effect; the curtain was splattered with bright red goo, and tiny Remus had a pair of plastic knives in his hands, which were blurry in almost every photo because they’d hardly stopped making stabbing motions all evening. To their right, their little sister Gabby, who’d been six at the time, was dressed as Elastigirl and making a punching motion; to their right, Roman—who had already been a full three inches taller than Remus, even at nine—was wearing a Belle dress with a poofy skirt and a sword strapped around his waist and a huge smile that was missing one front tooth.

Remus swiped through the photos; a delightful scene unfolded, as tiny Remus posed for a few pictures, then in one was blurrily turning towards Roman, then dumping something on him, then Roman was screaming and Remus was laughing as red goo dripped down the poofy yellow skirt; Gabby watched with both hands clapped over her mouth, eyes huge.

“You two really have not changed at all, have you?” Janus asked, stifling laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Remus agreed with an answering laugh. “I think the most that either of us ever changed was when I chopped off all that hair and dyed it green.”

“When was that?” Janus asked.

“Sophomore year of high school. I did not have permission to chop it all off, but I did get permission to dye it afterwards, so that was pretty sick.”

“And that didn’t go against dress code?” Janus inquired.

“No, actually. Not sure how. But I bet my parents would’ve kicked up a big stink about it if the school tried and made me change it; they were always super big on self expression and shit.” Remus gestured towards the picture, indicating tiny Roman in his princess dress. “We always got to wear whatever we wanted, and shit like that. It was nice. Made gender shit way easier when that became a thing for me, you know?”

“It sounds nice,” Janus said softly. “I’m happy you had that.”

Remus nodded and pressed a kiss to their forehead, reaching for a handful of the popcorn dregs in the bottom of the bowl.

Janus shifted in their arms, rolling over to face Remus and propping themself up on their elbows. “Actually,” they began.

Something on their face told Remus that whatever this new topic of conversation was, it was important. He swallowed the half-chewed popcorn in his mouth. “Yeah, baby?”

“Speaking of gender.” Janus picked at the edge of the blanket.

“I love speaking of that, go on.” Remus tousled Janus’s hair fondly.

Janus took a deep breath, staring at the blanket in their hands. “I want to start using he pronouns again. In addition to my regular ones. Or.” They wrinkled their nose. “My current ones, I guess. So, he/they.”

“That’s great, he/they pronouns are very sexy,” Remus said at once.

Janus laughed, looking up at him at last. “That’s true, you are the sexiest person I know,” he said fondly. A shadow passed over his features. “But,” he went on slowly, chewing on the inside of their lip and picking at the blanket once more.

“Yeah?” Remus encouraged.

“I really don’t like the idea of telling anyone else about that.” Janus grimaced. “I keep worrying I’ll get asked stupid questions about ‘oh, so are you a man again now?’ when—like—no, and I never was one in the first place. So.”

“Oh, that sounds gross,” Remus agreed at once. “I can see why you’d be worried about that.”

Janus nodded. “I just—I don’t want to explain. And I don’t want people to ask questions. And they might. And I just—I don't want any of it. I want to skip to the part where they know and it’s all how I want it to be.”

“That’s reasonable,” Remus agreed. “But, I mean, if they can get me using he/they pronouns and being nonbinary, they had better fucking wrap their minds around the concept of you doing it too. Yeah? Or I’ll make ’em. Violently, if you want.”

Janus snorted. “I appreciate the offer, darling.” They reached up and touched his cheek. “I… don’t know if I want to tell anyone else yet. But I did want to tell you.”

“You got it, cutie.” Remus booped Janus’s nose once. “Just let me know if anything changes. I’ll punch people for you. Anytime. They don’t even have to have done anything. Just point me at them and consider it done.”

Janus did laugh at that, outright, scrunching up his face and burying it in Remus’s chest. “I should not be this into you offering to punch people for me,” he said wryly.

Remus grinned and flipped their hair. “Nah, I think it’s definitely very sexy of me and should absolutely turn you on.”

Janus smacked Remus’s arm. “I did not say that!”

“You implied it.”

“Not… necessarily. That was one possible interpretation—”

“Oh, right, I see, mmhm, very interesting.”

They smacked his arm again. “You’re teasing me.”

“Only a little bit. You’re so pretty when you get all flustered.” Remus bent their head at a somewhat awkward angle to kiss Janus’s lips gently. “Are there any new words you want me to use, by the way?” they asked. “Besides updating pronouns?”

Janus tilted his head to the side, considering. “I think… I still like all the sorts of things you call me already. Pretty, and partner, and—and baby, and so on.”

Remus smirked. “That’s good, I like calling you baby.”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Janus hid their face in their hands.

“Why, baby?” Remus asked innocently.

Janus made a strangled noise, and after a pause carried on. “I do think I wouldn’t mind adding a little bit of… masc terminology? I guess? If that makes sense? Adding that into the mix. Not all the time, and not as much as the things you already call me, but… just a bit would be nice.”

“Gotcha.” Remus nodded. “I can do that. So, like, my baby is very pretty and handsome?”

Janus’s cheeks went bright red in an instant, and he hid his face in Remus’s chest again, letting out a tiny wordless scream. “Yes. That. That—that’s nice,” they managed after a pause, sounding almost entirely composed.

Remus chuckled and ran their fingers through Janus’s hair. “Good to know,” he said teasingly. “I will definitely keep this in mind.”

“Oh my god,” Janus mumbled. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Absolutely, but only in a sexy way of making you happy.” Remus kissed the top of their head. “This is just, like, going to be a week of people coming out to me, I guess,” they mused. “Huh.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, something’s clearly eating at someone else we know, and I think they’re going to tell me about whatever it is within the week. That’s all. It was just funny timing.” Remus kissed the top of Janus’s head again. “So, the movie’s over,” they noted, which, sure, was a blatant and deliberate change of subject, but he felt this was justified, both for avoiding-speculating-about-Roman’s-personal-information purposes and, more importantly, for fun-after-movie-things purposes.

“That it is,” Janus said, a particular innocent tone entering their voice. Excellent, he was of a similar mind to Remus, then.

Remus grinned and drew them up for a kiss. “So, what does the very pretty and handsome and lovely human in my arms want to do now?” he inquired.

Janus made another small, wordless, flustered noise and promptly dragged Remus into another kiss. “You can’t just say things like that!”

“What, about how you’re the loveliest—prettiest—sexiest—” Remus pressed tiny kisses to Janus’s lips with each word, until at last they caught his lips with their own in a proper kiss to shut him up. “Pretty sure I can say it, actually,” Remus murmured against his lips. “Cause it’s true.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Janus said, sounding very pleased indeed, and kissed them again.

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld @peruviandesertfox

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slasherhaven · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! Could you please write an Otis x reader one shot where the reader is into him and doesn’t think he knows but he totally knows and he’s kind of thrown off because most girls find him disgusting and just idk I’m really in the mood for some good Otis content 💕💕💕

Of course!

Why Does he Hate me? (Otis Oneshot)

Word Count: 2425

You had been a friend of the Firefly family for quite some time now, knowing all the dirty little details of their lifestyle but you still hung around. Baby had become your best friend quickly, Mama treated you like one of her own whenever you came round to the house, but it was Otis that captivated most of your attention.

Something about him just pulled you in.. You couldn’t even explain it but it was killing you because he seemed completely oblivious and you wouldn’t dare approach the subject with him when you were so sure he wasn’t interested.

"I'm out" Baby pouted as she tipped her beer can back, quickly realising it was empty. "Mind grabbing me another one?" she asked you, batting her lashes as if that would convince you.

"Aren't I supposed to be your guest? Shouldn't you be getting us the drinks?" you raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh please you pretty much live here. I think Mama might even like you more, she won't yell at ya for drinking the beers" Baby scoffed, waving you off dismissively.

"Fine" you chuckled as you rose from the couch, stretching your back before placing your own empty beer can down on the coffee table. "Could you possibly throw these in the trash?" you asked.

"Sure" Baby nodded, her attention focused on the old horror movie playing on the Tv. You laughed again and shook your head before leaving for the kitchen.

Stepping into the kitchen, you teased for a moment when you saw Otis at the fridge. The effect he had on you was ridiculous but you tried to push it down every time you saw him, reminding yourself that he was not interested in you.

"Hey Otis, you mind passing me a couple beers?" you asked as you walked up behind him.

Apparently he hadn't heard you enter the kitchen because you caught the small flinch before he turned to you. "You got hands, get them yourself" he snapped, making your eyes widen. He must have been in a bad mood...

"I would but...you're kinda in the way" you pointed out, gesturing to the fact that he was standing right in front of the refrigerator.

Otis huffed, glancing back at the fridge before turning back to it properly. He grabbed himself a can of beer before slamming the door shut. "You're just always here aren't ya?" Otis turned back to you with a glare.

"Uh..." you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond.

Sure, Otis could be really unapproachable and definitely knew how to make you nervous. You were used to his short temper and bad days but that didn't make it hurt any less when it was directed at you.

"Sorry" you whispered as you shuffled around his figure, pulling the fridge door open.

You only heard him mutter something under his breath before leaving. You sighed to yourself as you grabbed the two beers, closing the fridge door before returning to the living room.

With a huff you flopped down onto the couch beside Baby, handing her one of the cans and noticing that the two empty cans were still sitting on the coffee table.

"What's wrong with you? You only went to the kitchen?" Baby asked as she took the drink, laughing softly but you knew that she was genuinely concerned. She could sometimes come across as a little insincere but you knew her well enough to know how she really felt.

"I think your brother hates me" you mumbled as you popped your can open, bringing it to your lips for a quick gulp.

"Why ya think that?" she opened her own can, sparing you a small glance.

"He's just always glaring at me or snapping at me. He just did it in the kitchen because he was in the fridge and I asked him to pass me some beers. Seriously, what's his problem?" frustration was clear in your voice at this point, "I ain't done nothing to him!"

"He don't hate ya" Baby shook her head as she drank from her can.

"Yeah well tell him that" you rolled your eyes, unconvinced.

"He's an idiot, don't let it bother ya" Baby knew that you had feelings for Otis, she could see it on your face whenever he was in the room.

She also knew that your feelings weren't unreciprocated. Her brother was stubborn and hard headed but she was one of the people who knew him better than anyone, and she knew that he liked you more than he let on. If he really didn't like you, you wouldn't be welcome in the house, he wouldn't let you go out with him and Baby, you wouldn't just be frustrated by his difficult personality.

-----

The next time you visited the Firefly residence was only the next day and, as usual, you were visiting Baby but when you knocked on the door Otis answered it instead.

"Oh, hi. Is Baby here?" you asked, quickly collecting yourself to not make a fool out of yourself in front of this man.

"Nah, thought she would've told ya that" he shrugged, sounding completely disinterested in the conversation.

"Did she say when she would be back? Y'know what, never mind, I'll just come by later" you shook your head, turning to walk away.

"Shit, hold on" Otis huffed as he caught your arm in his hand, making you turn back to him. "C'mon, you can wait inside" he offered, releasing your arm and stepped to the side to let you through the doorway.

"Thanks" you smiled politely as you walked into the house, realising just how quiet it was as Otis shut the door. "Is anyone home?" you glanced back at him over your shoulder.

"Everyone's out" he told you simply. You nodded, nervously picking at your fingernails at the thought of being home alone with Otis. "You're going to make yourself bleed" he chastised, staring at your hands. You instantly stopped picking at your nails and folded your arms to resist the urge to keep doing so. "See ya later then" Otis nodded before beginning to walk past you, apparently just planning to leave you alone in the house.

"Otis" you spoke before you could stop yourself, making the man turn back to you. "...why don't you like me? I mean obviously you don't have to like me, I just...have I done something to you?" you asked, glancing around the room to avoid looking at his face.

"I don't...not like you" was all Otis said but that just confused you even more, making your gaze snap to his face.

"Then why do you always seem mad when I'm around?" you asked.

"Why are you always around?" he responded with another question rather than giving you any clear answer.

"I...I don't understand..." you shook your head.

"You're just always...here. Always around with your damn smiles and stares" he began to walk towards you with a slight glare, sounding like he was annoyed at you.

"Otis...I'm sorry if I-" you began to apologise as you stepped backwards and away from him.

"Baby said I should apologise" Otis cut you off as your back hit the wall behind you but he still stepped closer to you.

"What for?" you asked, watching him carefully.

"For upsetting you. I told her to fuck off because I didn't upset you" Otis scoffed, making you chuckle a little as you imagined the argument that must have broke out between them. "But I did upset ya, didn't I?" he asked, earning a slightly confused look from you. "Yesterday when I snapped at ya, I upset ya" he reminded you.

"I...just want to know why you always seem so annoyed when I'm around" you sighed, remembered how he had snapped at you. You weren't mad about it but you did want to know what his problem with you was.

"'cause you frustrate me" Otis told you but that just made you look away from him, you still didn't know what you had done to him to frustrate him. "I just don't get it" he moved closer to you, now being far too close to be considered a friendly distance.

"Get what?" you asked quietly.

"Why you're at all interested in me. You should want to put as much distance between me and yourself as possible but you don't" he squinted at you.

"I'm not scared of you, Otis" you told him honestly, your voice soft as you met his gaze. Even if he should, he really didn't scare you.

"Shit, I can see that" he scoffed.

"And...that frustrates you?" you asked, trying to understand but only feeling more confused.

"It confuses me!" his voice raised, making you flinch a little but only from surprise not fear. "Ya ain't scared of me, ya ain't disgusted by me, ya just ain't like anyone else" he seemed to move closer to you but you could have been imaging it.

"I've known the family for a while now...kinda takes a lot to freak me out these days" you shrugged.

"Obviously so. Instead of being disgusted by me, ya have damn feelings for me" Otis muttered, making your eyes widen in shock.

"What? Did Baby tell you that?" you were going to kill her!

"She didn't need too. I ain't stupid and I ain't blind, I see how ya look at me, always smiling at me no matter how much I push ya away" he shook his head, seemingly unfazed by your reaction.

"I'm sorry" you hung your head, embarrassed that he had been aware of your feelings this whole time. For some reason you just felt like you had to apologise for that, maybe that was why he was so bothered by you all the time.

"You ain't gotta apologise, I've already said that I'm the one apologising for upsettin' ya" Otis sighed.

"It's fine" you assured him quietly.

"It ain't but I'm good at fuckin' up. Would like to make it up to ya though" he admitted sincerely.

"You don't have too. It's fine, really" you repeated.

"I want too" Otis insisted, his finger hooking under your chin before lifting your head and making you look at him.

"Otis?" you whispered, caught off guard by the gentle action and trying to supress your blush.

"Y'know...not many women would look twice at a man like me. And any that do realise their mistake once I open my damned mouth. You ain't like them though, are you?" you weren't sure if you were supposed to answer so you just shook your head, hoping that was the right thing to do. "Y'see, that's why I like you" he hummed.

"You do?" you asked as you found your voice again, looking up at him curiously.

"Always have. But havin' those sorts of feelings was overwhelming enough, and then you had to go and throw me off by returning them. Not many people surprise me but you did, you always do" his fingertips trailed up the side of your jaw, making sure you kept looking at him.

You had seen this side of Otis before. The soft side, the more normal side, the human part of him. And that had played a large part in your feelings for him, knowing that there was so much more to him, and all of him you loved, even the sinister parts.

"Well...I do like you, Otis. I like you a lot, I just thought you'd never feel the same" you confessed as you timidly rested your hands against his chest.

"Now, how couldn't I feel the same about someone like you" he smirked slight as he fully cupped your jaw in his hand.

"I'm not too boring for your tastes?" you asked a little playfully, making Otis chuckled slightly.

"You know exactly what is hiding in the basement and you're still here, you are far from boring, darlin'" he assured you, making you smile.

You watched him carefully, gaze scanning his face, as you waited for him to make a move. He had you between a wall and his body, his hand was still against your jaw, and he didn't look like he planned on moving anytime soon so surely he was going to kiss you.

You finally had him so close at last, knowing that he felt the same about you, and you needed him to kiss you but...he just wasn't moving.

So, taking matters into your own hands, you slipped your hands up to the back of Otis' neck and pulled him down until his lips met yours.

Once again, Otis was taken back by you. By how much you genuinely wanted him, cared for him, and felt for him.

But he quickly took control of the kiss, the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your head to hold you in position. His other hand found your hip as he pressed you up against the wall, hand sliding up your waist as he slotted a leg between yours.

Your fingers tangled in his long hair as he pressed himself closer to you, feeling you arch into him as he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand landing on the small of your back to hold you even closer.

"Otis!" Mama's voice rang through the house, neither of you had heard the back door open and close. You braced your hands against Otis' shoulders as you pulled away from the kiss, both of you turning see the woman stepping into the room. "Oh...well, don't you two mind me. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me, alright?" she smiled kindly, looking between you both, making you blush before slipping right back out of the room.

"C'mon" Otis snatched your hand in his before tugging you towards the stairs.

"Shouldn't Baby be home soon?" you asked, glancing back at the front door but didn't fight him in the slightest.

"Who cares?" Otis asked, muttering slightly, probably already annoyed by the possibly of somebody else coming in and disturbing you both. You just shrugged and smiled, letting the man guide you up the stairs as if you hadn't been in the house so often.

"Glad you two finally got together!" Mama called from the kitchen when she heard footsteps heading up the stairs.

"Fuckin' hell" Otis rolled his eyes, making you laugh. You liked these moments in the Firefly residence, the moments were they really did just seem like a somewhat normal family. And you were happy to be a part of that family.

#otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

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alirhi · 3 years ago

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okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

#fan rant #ragepost #long post #bucky barnes #mcu #captain america #the first avenger #the winter soldier #civil war #tfatws #mcu spoilers #stop victim blaming #victim not villain #never a fucking villain #bucky deserved better #fuck marvel #fuck disney

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superworldunkown · 4 years ago

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You’re My All Might

An: Daddy Bakugou x Kiara is back! I needed it after looking at that potential manga cover, ooof!!

Summary: Kiara is sick and Bakugou ain’t having it, someone get me All Might!!

Kiara was home sick. Her normally glowing brown skin that matched the beauty of her mothers was a greenish hue, and just like her father when he was under the weather, Kiara wasn’t happy about any of it.

“I wanna go to pweschool mommy.”

“You can’t baby,” You hushed while taking a tissue to your daughters dripping nose, “You don’t want to get all your friends sick do you? Besides, you get to spend the day with Daddy, how fun!”

“Daddy’s cranky!”

“Hah? And what are you! Damn brat.”

“Katsuki!”

“What!” He huffed while stuffing a piece of pancake into his mouth, “My only damn day off in weeks and you gotta go to work and Kiara’s sick as shit...” He grumbled something neither you or your daughter could understand while shoving more food in to his mouth.

You creeped up to your husband, placing gentle kisses on his cheek, “Please be good with her today. Maybe when I get home I’ll,” You whispered the rest into his ear, still delighted that after all the years you two were together you could still make your hotheaded husband blush like he did back when you were teenagers.

“Fine.” He grumbled while placing a peck onto your lips, “I get to pick the outfit though.”

“Deal.” You smile sweetly before walking over to your daughter and kissing her on the head. “Be good, Kiara. Don’t put Daddy through too much trouble today.”

You gave both of them one final rundown of Kiara’s medicine schedule, the dos and don’ts of the day, and a small chore list (much to Bakugou’s disliking) before you were out the door and off to work. Bakugou let out an annoyed sigh, staring at his daughter who was currently glaring daggers' in his direction. What happened to his sweet little three year old that was obssessed with him? Who the hell was this sick little monster in front of him?

Trying to appease his daughter he said, “Let’s eat breakfast in front of the TV.”

Kiara let out a growl of approval.

Setting his daughter down in the living room he brought her her breakfast and rested on the couch while she ate against the coffee table.

“Not hungry.” She groaned while pushing her plate across the wooden table and dramatically throwing her head back to stare at her father.

Bakugou let out an equally irritated groan while flipping through the channels, “You need to eat Kiara. You aren’t going to get better if you don’t eat your breakfast.” Was that true? He didn’t care. Maybe if she ate something she would be less of a pain. He loved his daughter, there as no question to that. But damn, she was really started to pick up on the bratty attitude he had as a kid. Maybe he should write an apology letter to his parents in hope to reset his karma before his daughter became a teenager.

Teenager?! He shuttered at the thought.

“I want Ice Cream Daddy.”

“Tch, thought you weren’t hungry.”

“Pleaseeee. I’m sicky.”

Bakugou smirked, “That shit may work with your mother but not with you, kid.”

Kiara let out another whine of disapproval. This one with the caliber to really do a number on Bakugou’s ear drums. Before he could respond his eyes snapped to the attention of the television. A familiar, jovial theme song of a former hero coming from the speaker.

“Don’t forget, this weekend is the All Night All Might Movie marathon, where we will be celebrating the former symbol of peace on the tenth anniversary of his retirement! Tune in at 8:00pm with all the details....”

“Daddy, whose-whose...All Might?”

Whose All Might?

Whose All Might?!

What the hell...

Bakugou turned to look at his daughter who seemed absolutely capivated with the former hero on the TV screen. Her face, despite the sickness coming from puffy cheeks and nose was glowing in awe as the highlight real of the hero’s glory days played on the screen. It was almost nostalgic; a mirror image of himself as a kid taking in the greatness that was his favorite (and still favorite) hero.

Her face dropped when the segment switched back to the regurly schedled boring programing.

“You wanna know who All Might is?” He asked. His daughter turned to him with a smile and a ferocious nod of her head.

Sitting upright from the couch he eyed his daughter, “Finish your breakfast. I’ll be back.”

He returned a few moments later with a box labeled, ‘Katsuki, keep the hell out!’ in bold marker. Kiara scooched over towards her father as he opened the box and pulled out a variety of All Might merchandise from his childhood. A blanket, a few action figures, and most importantly, DVDs. Taking one of silver disks he placed it in the device next to the television before settling back down on the couch. Kiara let out a high pitched squeal of delight as the all mighty All Might appeared on screen, flashing is smile and laugh as if he was speaking directly to her.

Kiara clutched the All Might action figured she now claimed as her own as she and her father watched the footage of All Mights most heroic rescues.

“Did you see that Daddy! He saved them!” Kiara pointed to the screen of a daring rescue while looking at her father.

“Mhmm, I see it.” He mused, trying to play down the stirring emotions of how absoltely thrilled his daughter was watching his idol while clutching the same action figure he held so closely as a child.

As the video ended Kiara looked back at her father, “Is there more Daddy?”

“Tch, is there more? He was the Symbol of peace for decades.” Noticing the confused face of his daughter he simply answered, “Yeah, Kid. There’s a lot more.”

Switching out the DVDs he scooped up his daughter and placed her on his lap while the two of them spent the morning watching the old videos. Kiara was enamored to say the least.

Bakugou decided to hold back on sharing that he knew All Might personally and was a mentor of his during his U.A years. He feared the small child would implode at the news her new favorite (second to him, of course) hero was her fathers mentor.

It was a fun time reliving his favorite memories with his daughter. However, when the video switched to All Mights final battle as a hero, the battle in Kamino, his body began to sink further in the couch.

“Daddy! Daddy! That looks like you!”

Bakugou didn’t even notice he was on the screen. He only appeared for a brief moment, blasting The League of Villains before the camera switched to All Might’s arrival.

The memories flooded back with a heaviness Bakugou was not prepared to wade through on his day off of all days. His breath hitched slightly, as he watched the flame of One For All slowly diminish in his mentor’s body with each passing hit and blow to that damn Boss Villain All For One.

“Daddy?” Kiara’s voice was soft, but strong enough to shake Bakugou out of the darkness of his mind, “Why are you sad?”

He hadn’t realized he was on the verge of tears until his daughter pointed it out. Making a stern face he reassured her, “I’m fine, kid. I’m just,” He didn’t know how to formulate it, nor did he know why he was telling his three year old daughter who was entirely too young to understand feelings like shame, guilt, and mourning, “He was a damn good hero, Kiara...He always won, he always saved everyone. I’m just...sad he’s not here anymore.”

Kiara looked deeply into her father’s sad eyes. Her own young mind attempting to put the pieces together in a way that she could articulate and understand, “But, you save Daddy. You win too.”

He looked up at her, tears still welling at the corner of his eyes as she continued. His little girl gave an enormously big smile, the smile she got from her damn mother. The one that swelled his heart so big he felt it was going to rip out of his chest in the most amazing of ways, “Daddy, you’re just like All Might,

You’re my All Might.”

Fuck.

His tears now fell freely from his red eyes. And he was positive his heart had moved up to the top of his throat. Pressing his daughter into a tight hug he rested his head on the top of her curly blonde hair.

“Fuck.” He breathed, still choking slightly on his words, “How the fuck did I get such a kind, kick ass kid like you baby?”

“Because Mommy.” Kiara answered simply, causing Bakugou to let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

He held his daughter for some time, not bothering to change the video as the credits rolled. Eventually he let his daughter loose enough to allow her to poke her head up from his chest.

“Still want that ice cream?” He asked while tenderly poking at her dribbling nose.

Her red eyes lit up again. Deciding to press her luck she asked, “Can I get two scoops?”

He smirked, “Sure kid. Whatever you want.”

“And, and...can I get the Deku Mint chocolate chip-”

“Don’t push it.”

#bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugo #Kiara bakugou #domestic bakugou #bakudad #my hero academia #bakugou poc

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a-bang-for-your-bucky · 4 years ago

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Playin' With Fire: Frankie's Secret

Playin’ With Fire: Frankie’s secret

Summary: Dani and Frankie have been friends for almost two years now. While at a party, Dani learns Frankie’s darkest secret. Will their friendship surpass this hurdle? WIll they finally cross that line they have been teetering on? Or will this be the wedge that drives them apart?

Warnings: DRUG USE (straight up use of cocaine), ANGST (It starts it off), explicit language, a heated make out session, implication of smut (but no details because I suck at writing smut), Hurt!Frankie because it breaks my heart. I hurt my own heart writing this.

Pairings: Dani x Frankie, Frankie x ofc, Dani x Santiago

Word Count: 4,280

A/N: Part 2! Y'all this story is a wild ride. I am not responsible for any tears that are shed while reading this.

Tags: @221bshrlocked @danniburgh (if you want to be tagged, LMK)

It wasn’t often that Dani went to a party that wasn’t being hosted by a Miller brother. Yet, here she was at some random house with a lot of random people. Will said it would be fun, that she needed to relax. Benny said that she wouldn’t be alone because Frankie would be there. So how in the hell did she find herself standing around with none of the guys in sight?

Dani wandered aimlessly through the crowd of people, looking for someone she knew. She came across a door, and it seemed to be quiet on the other end. She quickly turned the knob to see that it was unlocked. Pushing the door open, she revealed her best friend, with a half naked brunette in his lap, snorting what looked like coke.

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. Dani couldn’t tell if it was because of the girl or the drug. “Tequila.” Frankie whimpered, but didn’t move a muscle. The girl in his lap twisted to see who opened the door.

“Either join in or get out.” The girl demanded, and Dani slammed the door shut. She knew she probably looked crazy; Tears running down her face, smearing her makeup, frantically looking for Will or Benny. She found the youngest Miller first, who immediately left the woman he was chatting up upon seeing Dani’s distressed state.

“Tequila, what happened?” He asked, wiping tears from her face. She tried to tell him, but it only came out in broken sobs. Benny was able to pick up “Frankie” and “cocaine”; After that, she was incoherent. Benny wrapped his arms around her, trying to give her some comfort. “Come on, let’s find Will and go.”

It took twenty minutes for Benny to track down Will, who was hooking up with the party host, Sara. Benny explained that Dani came up to him, sobbing and mentioned Frankie and coke. Will rushed to get dressed, apologizing for his hasty exit.

Dani was standing outside by Will’s jeep, eyes swollen and face red. Will rushed over, “Teq, I’m so sorry.” He comforted and placed a kiss to her head before ushering her into the car, just in time for Frankie to come running out the door. Benny took three large strides toward him before throwing a right hook that connected hard with his jaw.

“The fuck were you thinking, Fish? I thought you quit that shit!” Benny yelled at his friend who clutched his face where a red bruise was already starting to form, struggling to get up off the ground.

“Please, Benny.” Frankie started as he stood up, gesturing to the girl crying in the front seat “Let me talk to her.” He begged, trying to move toward the car. Will stepped in.

“You’ve done enough, Catfish. Leave her alone.” Will growled at the man before him. Frankie, exhaled a shaky breath and took a step back from his friends.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I’m so sorry.” He yelled a little louder, hoping Dani could hear him through the window. She turned her head just in time to see the same brunette that was seated on his lap, start dragging him back inside.

Dani didn’t leave her room for three days. She barely touched anything Will or Benny brought her to eat. She barely slept, the image of Frankie doing lines of the white substance haunted her dreams. She tried to focus on the crappy ‘B�� rated horror movie playing on Netflix.

A knock on the door drew her from the screen. “It’s open.” She said numbly. It was Will. He came in carrying a tray of food and a few water bottles. Dani noticed and gave him a quiet ‘thank you’, before turning her attention back to her laptop.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will asked her just like he had every day before. Today she seemed ready.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She whispered, still looking at the screen. Will took a seat next to her on the bed.

“It wasn’t our story to tell. As far as we knew, he cleaned up after being discharged. Tequila, I promise you, if any of us knew, we would have told you.” Will tried to explain to her, knowing that his words weren’t going to help much.

Tears slowly started to trickle down her cheeks. She felt so stupid, letting herself get so close to him. Will pulled the computer away from her lap, sitting it on her bedside table. She instantly curled into him as sobs wracked her body. Will felt so helpless. On one hand, he has his best friend who has a drug problem and on the other, his best friend who has a broken heart. He didn’t know where to begin to fix either. Will noticed that the sobs finally stopped and her breathing evened out. She was finally asleep. He could have wiggled out from her hold, but instead, he made himself comfortable and fell asleep, too.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Frankie?” Benny’s voice stirred Will awake. He shot up off the bed and ran to the living room. He found Benny holding Catfish back from entering the doorway.

“I need to talk to her, Benny. I have to- shit, I have to explain myself.” Frankie begged his friend.

Will could see his brother getting angrier by the second, so he intervened. “Go check on her, make sure she’s still sleeping. I’ll handle this.” Will prompted his brother. Benny relaxed, moving away from Frankie. Will slid into his spot, blocking him from coming inside.

“Will, please.” Frankie begged. “I just want to see her. I’m sorry for this. I never wanted to hurt her.” All Frankie wanted was to make sure she was okay. He was about to speak again when Dani’s voice broke through the silence. Frankie took in her state, hair in a bun, eyes rimmed red and puffy.

“It’s okay, Ironhead.” She murmured, arms wrapped around herself in mock comfort. Will turned himself to face her. He brought a hand up to caress her face, erasing stray tears. He gave her his best ‘are you sure?’ look. She nodded, “I’ll be okay, Will. I’ll yell if I need you.” She tried to give him a smile, but she was so damn tired.

Will looked back at Frankie, “I love you, man, but she better not need me." The blonde threatened him and Frankie knew he meant it. He shook his head in agreement; Frankie would gladly let Will hurt him. He just wanted to make this right. Will moved over, letting Frankie pass him into the living room. Frankie looked around. Out of all the times he sat in the room, he never imagined himself sitting here because of this.

Dani moved to take a seat across from him. She gave Will a look to let him know that she was okay, and he left the room. She focused her attention back to the man in front of her. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark circles under them, which didn’t complement the five o’clock shadow that dusted his face. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her or the drugs.

Frankie noticed Dani looking over his features, and he felt ashamed, like he didn’t deserve to have her look at him. He hung his head low, trying to avoid making eye contact with her. He knew he couldn’t hide his face forever, but for now, the floor was looking pretty good.

Dani shuffled in her seat, trying to get herself comfortable before diving into a conversation she really did not want to have. As she thought of what she was going to say, Frankie started to apologize.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Teq.” He raised his head, tears chasing each other down his face. “I know that sorry doesn’t mean much, but I am.” Frankie wiped his tears away as he finally made eye contact with her.

“Why, Frankie?” Her words were barely detectable, but Frankie heard them. Those two words put a vice grip around his heart and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know why. Why did he let himself fall off the wagon after so long? Why did he let Vanessa back into his life when he could have had Dani? He didn’t have any answers for her.

“Can I start from the beginning?” He asked her, hoping they could talk things out. Dani thought it over. Did she really want to hear this? The choice was obvious. she needed to know and gave Frankie a curt nod.

Frankie moved to the floor in front of her chair, sitting crossed legged, looking up at her. “It started after my first helo crash.” Frankie began.

“This is gonna be a bumpy ride boys,” Frankie yelled through the headset. He was maneuvering the helo through gunfire, trying to find a safe place to land.

“Fish, we got smoke back here!” Pope bellowed, hanging onto the doorway of the cockpit. Frankie looked back at his friend. How was he going to do this? He looked back down to the earth, and all he saw was desert sand. “Fish! We gotta land, man. Or this thing’s gonna blow!” Santiago reiterated.

Frankie found a spot far enough away from the flying bullets, that he could try to land as safely as possible. When he started to bring it down, alarms started blaring, lights flashed. “Fuck! Guys, buckle up. This isn’t going to be good.”

“That crash broke Benny’s arm. Since then, I was a nervous wreck behind the controls. I almost got everyone killed because I couldn’t land the damned helo. My mistake almost killed my friends.” Frankie paused to compose himself. “At first, I only did it to calm my nerves, then I just lost control of it, using whenever I could. I was discharged with my license suspended. I did a rehab program and luckily, I was able to get my license reinstated.”

Dani tried to comprehend what he was telling her. All of her medical training told her that he had a disease, an addiction. She wanted to reach out and console him, but he kept this from her. She had shared all of her secrets with him and he kept this huge one from her. “What about the girl?” She asked, knowing she had no right to be jealous. Frankie wasn’t hers.

“Vanessa was a fling, someone I would get high with. She was just there.” He gulped, “I wasn’t looking to get high. It was a moment of weakness. I hadn’t used it in almost thirteen months.” Since he met her. He was laying everything out for her and he was praying she would still accept him.

Dani sat there, staring at the man in front of her. He was unrecognizable. He looked sad, broken. Nowhere near the happy, flirty, person she met on Benny’s birthday. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to understand. She wanted to help him past this, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she was strong enough.

“Please say something, hermosa. Lo siento mucho.” Frankie apologized again, reaching to grab her hands. She didn’t pull away like he thought she would. Instead, she moved to kneel on the ground with him.

She released his hands to pull him in for a hug. The gesture was enough to completely destroy Frankie’s resolve. Frankie sobbed into her. “Lo siento mucho. Lo haré mejor, lo prometo.” Dani held him for what felt like forever, stroking his hair.

“I want to help you, Frankie.” She whispered into his hair, still holding him close. “But I need you to want to help yourself.” Frankie’s head bobbed in agreement. He needed this.

The following weeks were hard on Frankie. Detoxing off the drug was a lot harder than he remembered, but Dani was there every step of the way. The exhaustion, shakes, and cravings were tolerable, but when the nightmares started, Frankie didn’t know if he would make it.

Dani let herself into Frankie’s apartment after her shift at the hospital. “Frankie?” She called out but did not get a reply. She moved further inside, making her way to Frankie’s room. She heard the shower running as she walked into his bedroom. “Frankie?” She called out again.

As she got closer to the bathroom, she could hear Frankie’s broken sobs over the shower. She rushed in to see him sitting in the corner of the tub, knees drawn to his chest. He raised his head when the door slammed into the wall.

“Dani?” He choked out, like he was surprised to see her. She rushed over to him. Feeling that the water was freezing, she quickly turned it off. She grabbed a towel, throwing it over him to give him some form of cover.

“Fuck, fish. What’re you doing? Trying to give yourself hypothermia?” Dani moved to grab more towels. She was able to get him to stand up and move into the bedroom. She searched his room for warm clothing. “Here.” She handed him the sweats and hoodie she found. “I’m gonna make you something to eat while you get dressed.” She exited the room and closed the door behind her. She felt her own tears threatening to fall down her face. It was hard to see her friend like this. She wiped away the drops that strayed down, trying to compose herself.

Frankie emerged from his room and followed the savory smell coming from the kitchen. “Hermosa.” His voice cracks a little, but she still hears him. Smiling, she turns to see him, arms wrapped around himself. “Shit, Teq.” He walks over to her, bringing a hand up to caress her face. “I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” He whispers, pulling her in for a hug.

“I’m okay, Fish.” She mumbles into his chest. “I made bacon and eggs.” She wasn’t going to say that was all she could make with the contents in his kitchen because the man was already down.

“Thank you, Dani. For everything. I think the worst has finally passed.” Frankie told her as they sat down at his tiny dining table. She handed him his plate before placing her own in front of her. The two ate in a comfortable silence.

“You wanna talk about it?” Dani asked as Frankie cleared the table. Frankie placed the dishes in the sink and turned back to where she sat at the table.

“I keep having the same nightmare. I’m in a helo and it's going down. It’s just like that first crash, except you’re there. And there’s nothing I can do to save you.” Frankie describes his dream, fighting back the emotion that is pouring through him.

“I’m here, Frankie. I’m here.” She tells him as she walks over. Taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Feel that? I’m alive.” She moves it over his own, “You are, too. We are going to figure this out together.” The tension between them is palpable. Frankie looks down at Dani, her blue orbs staring back at him and all he can think about his pressing his lips to hers. Instead, he pulls away. She deserves more than a fuck up like me, he thought.

“Thank you. For dinner, fuck, for everything. You should go home and get some rest.” He practically pushed her out the door. “I’ll be okay.” He reassured her one last time before she said good-bye. He watched her walk to her car, climb inside, and drive away.

After the almost kiss, Dani did her best to give Frankie space. She knew he was going through a lot and he was probably having a lot of conflicted emotions. She stayed away from his apartment for about a week, checking in via text. He always responded immediately.

It was Saturday evening, and she had just finished her ER shift. She had sent a text to Frankie earlier in the day and still had not heard from him. Deciding that a trip to his apartment was warranted, Dani made her way over.

She knocked on the door three times before it opened. “Vanessa?” Dani choked out as the brunette stood there, wrapped in a towel. “Where’s Frankie?” She asked, her voice a little shaky.

“He’s busy, sweetie. Go home.” Vanessa snarked with a smirk on her face. Dani rolled her eyes, before storming past her toward Frankie’s room. She all but kicked the door open, sending the handle smashing into the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Frankie yelled, coming out of his bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. The angry look on his face dropped as soon as he saw her. “Fuck.” He whispered, dropping his head. Dani knew immediately what was going on.

“Frankie, tell me this isn’t what it looks like.” She wished, pointing to the powdered substance on his dresser. He didn’t answer. “Frankie, please.” Her voice cracked, “Tell me you aren’t doing fucking coke again.” She pleaded. He raised his head to look at her, but did not answer.

She shook her head in disappointment before walking out of the room. “Dani!” Frankie called as he chased after her. “Dani, please, don’t go.” He begged her. She stopped in her tracks before she reached the door. Vanessa scoffed, muttering under her breath “to let her go”.

She slowly turned around. “Fuck you, Frankie Morales. Fuck you and fuck her.” She spat, pointing to Vanessa who was sitting on Frankie’s couch. Dani focused back on Frankie. “Thank you for wasting my time, my effort, my love. I told you when I started to help you that you had to want to get clean. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t. So, fuck you.” She blubbered, tears of regret and hurt welling in her eyes, spilling over her lashes.

She didn’t wait for a reply as she walked out of the door. It closed behind her with a loud thud. She got to her car and let out the sobs she was holding in. Dani had never felt anything like this. Even when she caught him at the party, it didn’t hurt this bad. She felt like some punched her in the stomach and could hear her heart pounding in her ears. What was she supposed to do now?

Dani pulled into her driveway to find Santiago sitting outside on the porch, like he was waiting on someone to come home. She put her car in park and he’s there to open her door. “¿Estás bien?” He asked as she stepped out.

She didn’t dare to look the brunette in the eyes, because she knew she'd break. “I’m fine.” She replied curtly, looking at the ground, walking toward the house. He followed quickly behind her. Once inside, she threw her bag onto the couch, going straight to the kitchen. She poured a shot of tequila, offering one for Santiago. He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Shit, Teq. What’s wrong?” He asks again, worry laced in his voice. He can tell she’s been crying. Her eyes are red, and her face is blotchy. She downs the alcohol and pours another.

“He’s doing coke again.” She rasped out, throwing back the second drink. Slamming the glass on the counter, she left Santiago and walked to her room.

He ran a hand down his face before tailing her. What the fuck have you done, Catfish. He thought. He found Dani laying face first into her pillow. “What do you mean he’s doing coke again?” He questions, sitting next to her legs.

She rolled over and sat up. “I mean, I hadn’t heard from him all day. I was worried. I got to his apartment and Vanessa was there.” she hiccuped, falling back on the pillow again. “There was coke on his dresser.” Dani sniffled, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Dani.” He whispered, not really sure if she heard him. He is sorry. He’s sorry that Frankie is being an idiot. He’s sorry that she’s hurting. And he’s sorry that all he wants to do is make it better.

Dani fought to push her sadness down. She wiped her tears away and moved to sit up again, so that she’s looking at him. “I’m sorry, you looked like you had something you wanted to say.” She apologized and gave him her full attention.

Santiago nodded. “Yeah. I’m um, I’m going to South America. Colombia. I got a contract with the military.” He told her. “I’m supposed to leave in a month.” Her face dropped, and for a second she wonders how much heartbreak a person can take.

“South America? For how long?” She asked in disbelief. How could Santi be going to a different country? She just lost Frankie, she couldn’t lose him, too.

“I’m not sure.” He was being honest. He didn’t know when or if he would be back. It wasn’t going to be the safest contract. Dani sat there staring at him, speechless. “Teq?” He said, and she lifted her sad eyes to his. Almost as if he could read her mind, he promised, “I’ll come back.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t know that, Santi.” She mumbled, “What if you don’t come back?” The brunette shakes his head, telling her that she can’t think like that.

His cedar brown eyes met her blue ones. He reached out for her, pulling her into his embrace. He had an internal debate on whether or not he should say anything. It would be completely selfish of him, especially since he knew how Fish felt about her. That didn’t stop him from saying, "I have a contact down there who can get you certification to practice there. You could come with me, work in a hospital there."

Dani's body stiffened. Go to South America with Santi? She couldn't, could she? Santi could practically see the gears turning in her head. "It's not a marriage proposal, babe." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Dani let out a breathy laugh, "Yeah, like I would ever assume you are proposing marriage." Santi rolled his eyes, squeezing her tighter.

"I could settle down for the right woman." He rebutted, and they both burst into laughter. They knew Santi wasn’t the ‘settle down’ type. His arms relaxed around her and she wiggled her way out of his hold to sit back down on her bed.

"Seriously though, Tequila. If you want to come, the option is there." He offered her again. She could look into it. She could help so many less fortunate people, the whole reason why she wanted to become a doctor. After tonight, maybe it would be for the best.

"Okay." She says and his eyes go wide, like he didn't hear her correctly. "I want to go." She reiterates. Now he knows he wasn't hearing things. A huge smile crossed his face and he scooped her up into his arms again. Dani sighed in contentment. He smelled like mint and leather, even though he wasn’t wearing any, with a hint of whiskey.

She leaned her head back, so that she could look up at him. She was surprised to find him staring back at her. Her eyes subconsciously flickered to his lips as his tongue swiped out to dampen them. She didn't know if it was the buzz from the alcohol earlier, but she pushed forward to crash her lips into his.

Santi froze at the feeling of her lips on his. It was if he had fallen into one of his dreams, where the blonde woman had been running rampant. His hand found purchase at the back of her head, pulling her closer as their lips moved in tandem.

Dani's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers playing in the curls growing at the base of his head. She felt his tongue dance along her bottom lip, as if to ask for permission to enter. She parted her lips, finally tasting him as their tongues met. He even tasted like mint and whiskey.

Santi nibbled her bottom lip, which drew a low moan from her. He knew right then that he wanted more sounds from her. He tightened the grip on the back of her head, pulling it to the side, so that he could have access to her neck. He broke the kiss unceremoniously, before attacking her neck, finding her sweet spot immediately.

"Santi," Dani whimpered with need. Santi groaned at the sound of his name coming off her lips. She sounded like an angel. He wanted to hear more.

He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes so dark with lust, Santi could barely see the baby blue. Her hair was a mess where he buried his fingers. She looked absolutely beautiful. "Fuck, Tequila." Santi said breathlessly. His hands caressed her face, one thumb swiping over her bottom lip. "Fuck, as much as I want to do this. I can't." He said as his hands dropped and he stepped back. "I'm sorry, Teq. You would hate me in the morning."

Dani, brain still fuzzy with need, nodded, "Yeah, yeah. You're right. It's best that we stop now." She hesitantly agreed, when really what she wanted was for him to make her forget. Make her forget Frankie. Make her forget work. Make her forget her own name.

Santi took a deep breath, running a hand across his face. His eyes met hers once more, trying to find any signs of regret. There were none. "We really shouldn't do this." He said one more time before connecting their lips again.

Translations:

Hermosa- Beautiful

Lo siento mucho- I’m really sorry.

Lo haré mejor, lo prometo- I’ll do better, I promise.

¿estás bien?- Are you okay?

#santiago garcia #frankie morales #will miller #benny miller #santiago garcia x ofc #frankie morales x ofc #frankie catfish morales #santiago pope garcia #will ironhead miller #triple frontier #frankie morales fic #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia imagine #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fic #frankie morales angst #angst #kat writes

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zankivich · 4 years ago

Text

An Unexpected Romance: Chris Evans x Black! Female Reader Part 2

a/n: this one was really fun to write. I’m back in my bag tbh. These are some cute characters if I do say so myself. Like everything I write I feel like this could be a fully blown multi-chapter fic. Also it’s finna get smutty so I hope you’re prepared for that. Let me know what you think? K bye.

WARNINGS: Smut, softness, too much cuteness?

Part 1 Part 3

The call comes two days later. Not that he leaves any room to be forgotten. No, Chris had texted you bright and early the next morning to thank you again for giving him a chance, and to apologize if he’d been in any way aggressive. You were quick to reassure him there’d been no aggressiveness on his end, certainly not any that was unwanted. He was a good texter, happy to provide details about himself, and to notice the details you, yourself, provided.

Chris: What are you up to this morning anyway?

Y/n: I had an early meeting with the company I just signed on with for a project I’m spearheading, and now I’m in my office preparing the debrief on that meeting which will be presented at another meeting.

Chris: Wow. Sounds intense. What do you do for a living?

Y/n: I’m a senior level consultant at a consulting firm. I basically just get hired to tell folks what they’re doing wrong and how to fix it. Then I leave before they fix it.

Chris: Ah so you liked to be in control huh?

Y/n: I...trust my gut, and my gut has yet to lead me astray. I only make decisions I believe in.

Chris: And what is your gut telling you about me y/n?

Y/n: It’s telling me to keep texting you even when I shouldn’t. Even when I’m busy. I like the things you say.

Chris: I like that. My gut is telling me you’re important. I can’t really explain it further than that. I just think we could be really good together.

You bit your lip, eyes roaming over the words in the message a few times. It was sweet. Damn him all to hell.

Fast forward to the next day where you’d spent all day outside of the office meeting with clients. He caught you in the middle of your lunch break between bites of sandwich that wasn’t very good. You’d put his name in your phone as just Chris, and yet when his name flashed across the screen the letters may as well have been hieroglyphics. It took you ten seconds just to get your shit together.

“Hello?” You swallowed into the phone, trying to manage an up-beat cadence.

Chris was like honey through the phone, as if the weight of the conversation was nothing to him.

“Hello. God, I gotta tell you it’s good to hear your voice. I thought I was starting to lose it in my memory for a second.”

You chuckled. “I’m sure it’s been exceptionally trying for you.”

“It has, it has. So perhaps you won’t think I’m being too pushy by asking you out tonight?”

You moved the phone just far enough away from your ear to wordlessly praise the lord to the air. Or whoever was up there.

“Um...tonight, huh?”

“Yea do you already have plans?”

“No, no. I just have a pretty long day ahead of me. I might not be able to make an early dinner.”

“Well that’s okay. Dinner isn’t even what I had in mind. What if I picked you up at, say eight-thirty? Would that be enough time?”

You bit your lip. “It would...Can I ask, if we’re not going to dinner, where are we going?”

“Now that....is a surprise. Send me your address, I’ll be there at eight-thirty sharp.”

“Oh lord. Okay I guess I’ll see you then.”

“I look forward to it.”

It took you a moment to remember to put the phone down. Men were usually very simple. Dinner, usually somewhere they can order a steak. They like to do dinner on the earlier side, give them ample time to order drinks. The more drinks they order the higher they believe their chance of sleeping with you goes up. In all your years of “grown up dating”, you could count on one hand the amount of men who had offered to take you somewhere other than dinner on the first date, and never had that place been alcohol free.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was more that understanding men; their preconceived notions, their inadequacies, their mentality etc. was about safety for yourself and for others who may fall victimized. The patriarchy was toxic afterall and perhaps no one knew this better than Black women.

And yet Chris seemed to be evading your expectations, and not for the sake of keeping you on your toes. It was as if his aura existed outside of your expectations all together. He didn’t need to trick you, or convince you. He was just himself, and that self was perhaps better than the vast majority of men you’d met in your life. Could that be? Was it really possible? It seemed like you’d find out regardless.

***

Large hoop earrings are truly a staple piece for any iconic outfit. Without the dread of a formal dinner, you were excited to play with your wardrobe a little bit. There was a beautiful pastel pink camisole that matched a floral set of pumps quite perfectly. The slicked back ponytail and the knitted cardigan are simply added bonuses. Ya girl looked good as per the usual is the moral of the story.

By the time he knocks on your door there’s a giddiness to you. Grownup dating seemed to lack a certain excitement at that point in your life. Oftentimes priorities didn’t match up, men didn’t say what they really wanted, or truly were after. But it really did seem like Chris just wanted to show you a good time. And as much as you were trying to keep the walls up and stay smart, you couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might prove you wrong.

“Hello.” He smiled warmly at the threshold. “You look beautiful.”

Your brain had short-circuited. This was basically nuclear warfare and you were not having it! He was wearing a thin black sweater that stretched tightly across the firmness of his chest. There was a level of scruff that was absolutely tantalizing, and the way his eyes were one step away from twinkling like an anime character was a reality that suffocated you with the weight of it. It was truly too much. This man looked straight out of a factory. The wind had been zapped from your sails. Dammit.

“You look...really good yourself.” You hummed. “Like, unnaturally good actually.”

He only laughed wild and carefree arms coming up into a shrug.

“I gotta keep up with you somehow, right? So you ready to go?”

“Yes actually, let me just shoot a quick text…” You mumbled, swiping your fingers across the screen.

y/n: Okay we’re leaving the house. Remember if I don’t text back for an hour without stating why to track my phone.

Raya: don’t worry girl ain’t nobody gone call the police on captain america. Yo black ass wouldn’t make it a second

Jesse: Me and my cousins will ride up there swinging if need be. You just say the word mija

Tanya: or not word….cause the girl might be dead????

Jesse: Oh...you right

Y/n: okay BYE NOW

Usually the group text for dates was centered on safety and precaution. You had a feeling this one was going to be fully for them to clown your ass for the rest of the night.

Chris gets the door for you, and it’s easy to note immediately that you’re sliding into a tesla. The fact that it looks like a spaceship on the inside is a dead giveaway. But the car is warm and the second he slides into the driver’s seat, his large frame takes up precedence in the vehicle. His non-driving arm lands on the middle console sending parks of heat over to your seat with stark intensity.

“So, you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re going? You know that’s like prime serial killer talk right?” You noted.

He smiled again, this wide grin that seemed to transform his entire face. It seemed infectious just to look at him.

“Gosh you’re totally right. I’m so sorry. If it makes you feel any better, we’re heading towards the city and not away from it. It’s a public place, I promise.”

“Okay Chris. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt...for now.” You teased.

He looked over at you instead of the road.

“I like the way you say my name.”

Oh chile….

“Mmm. Noted.”

There had been a certain energy the night you met. It had existed in the non-existent space between your bodies as he held you against his chest. A sort of aura that pulled you, pulled the both of you in. It had felt a little overwhelming then, but to know that it existed now within the small confines of the car was another thing entirely. Your body tilted in the direction of his unconsciously, your elbow propped on the console directly next to his. You were drawn to him. And the good news was he seemed to be too.

You were both confused and happy to see him steer clear of the usual Beverly Hills or Hollywood spots. Where does one such movie star as Chris Evans take a woman on a date anyway? Your girls had discussed everything from WolfGang Puck to the Rosevelt. The sun was sinking low and heavy in the sky as night began its arrival. As he navigated you to the Santa Monica Pier you felt the giddiness from early wreck havoc in your belly. It was so far from anything you could have ever expected in the best way possible. All the nerves of being with this guy you really liked sort of melted away and gave way for excitement.

“The boardwalk huh?” You grinned out the window.

“Yea. There’s great street food, games, views. I figure it’s pretty tough to have a bad time here. Increases my chances of you agreeing to a second date.” He smirked.

You laughed a little louder than your flirting giggle and turned to face him straight on.

“Oh so you already plotting the second date now!”

He laughed right along with you.

“Sweetheart I’m on date number four up here.” He pointed to his forehead.

“Sheesh! Well I don’t want to disappoint, but I played point guard in high school so if we find some hoops I’ma have to put your ass to shame.”

“Oh she’s trash talking me already ladies and gentlemen!”

You were already taking your seatbelt off and reaching for the door handle. It was the most excited you’d ever been on a date, couldn’t even remember the last time someone took you some place to be goofy and play games. You typed your destination into your group chat and told your girls not to bother you. It was finna be a night.

It comes to no surprise that you end up at the arcade. He buys the tokens, you buy the beers. And then...it’s on.

“I want to start by saying that I am firm in my masculinity. Basketball is not my game, and I stand by that.”

You rolled your eyes around your beer and quickly took off your cardigan to free your arms.

“Boy, put the tokens in the machine and quit playing.”

He only grins at you so sweet it makes your teeth hurt.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Side by side in front of the basketball arcade game, you each take shots at the swinging net. Unfortunately there are no bonus points for fine looking biceps while missing shots. This leaves you to crush your opponent--date, whatever--by over twenty points. Though Chris was “firm in his masculinity” this did not stop him from being competitive, so he quickly threw more tokens into the machine and tugged the sleeves of his too-tight sweater up his arms. He makes a shot while you just stared at him, a little dazed. You only beat him by eight that time. Rude.

“Okay,” Chris panted. “I lied. I do play basketball. I like to think I’m pretty good at it too, but you definitely just kicked my ass.”

“I was MVP all three years I played. It’s not your fault.” You giggled.

“You play in college at all?” He asked as you took your beers and moved on to a new game.

You shook your head. “I went to Howard for both undergrad and my masters. We’re D1 and I wasn’t that good. I got an academic scholarship instead.”

“So brains and a killer arm? Anything else I should know?”

“Hmm...I have an irrational fear of mice? I found a mouse once in my kitchen when I was a little girl. I got so scared that I literally fainted.”

“Brains, killer arm, faints at the side of mice. So, I guess Cinderella for date number two is out.”

You placed your arm on his shoulder as you laughed. The sheer volume of muscle was not lost on you, nor the way your mouth salivated in response. Woops.

“I’d be down to watch Ratatouille. That’s my favorite food movie ever, I think. I guess animated equals not so scary.”

He smiled and let you keep your palm on his shoulder for much longer than was necessary.

“Duly noted. Shall we?”

Chris beats you in skee ball, and you beat him in some random zombie shooter game. Eventually he lets you lean on him to take your shoes off so that the two of you can do a dance revolution game. It’s silly and awful, and you laugh the entire way through it. There’s more arm touching and at some point he finds an excuse to touch your waist again. The way you bite your lip and stare up at him is only interrupted by the squeal of children’s laughter. There’s an increase in your heart beat that can’t be explained by the physical activity of the game alone, and the heat in his eyes is not nearly PG-13 enough.

“Should we uh...go get a snack or something?” You mumbled still peering up at his lips.

His grip on your waist only grows tighter, and you swear it’s past them kids' bedtime.

“Sure, why not?” He grins before slowly letting you go.

Sweet jesus.

It’s only when there’s a foot of space between the two of you that you can breathe normally again. But then he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers. Breathing is clearly overrated.

You buy two different flavors of icecream to split and find a bench tucked away in the lights of the pier to keep talking.

“So what about you?” You asked between globs of cookie dough.

“What about me?”

“I know what you do for a living obviously but like...Where are you from? Do you have siblings? What’s your favorite food? How do you take your coffee? That kinda shit.”

He beams at you and holds a spoon of his rocky road to your lips. You hold eye contact as your lips wrap around the spoon. His lips part just barely and you know you’re not the only who can’t get a grip tonight. Good.

He clears his throat. “I’m originally from Boston, but I grew up in a town like thirty minutes away called Sudbury. I have two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and an older sister. They’re all much smarter than me I promise. My uh father remarried so I’ve got some half-siblings too. I can break out the family tree sometime if you want. I really enjoy seafood. I think it has something to do with where I grew up. I take my coffee black.”

“Boston, eh? LA must have taken some getting used to.”

He chuckled. “I still don’t think I’ve gotten used to LA. I have a place in Massachusetts. It keeps my mom happy, and makes it easy to go home. I’m between projects for now, but its easier sometimes to just be here for the talk shows and the meetings and what not. I’ll be honest it’s been looking up lately though.”

Damn him and his ocean eyes and his dumb dumb smile and his stupid facial hair. And...now he’s putting more ice cream in your mouth. Diabolical.

“What about you? From DC to LA?” He asked.

“Ugh it does feel pretty cliche, I know. I never in a million years though I’d live out here. It’s tough cause all my family is east coast as well. When I was fresh out of grad school I got offered a job at a firm out here. The salary and the benefits were some of the best of my class. I couldn’t really say no. And now I mean...you saw me and my girls. I found community out here. It’s scary to think of losing that.”

“Hey that makes sense. You’ve made a life for yourself here. That’s really admirable.”

“Yea I guess. It helps to live away from the worst of it all. And I suppose LA does sometimes come with perks.” You smiled in his direction.

“I could not agree more.”

*Meanwhile in your phone*

Raya: what do we think? Is she still alive?

Tanya: Girl please. The only thing that girl is at risk for is a good dicking.

Raya: sljgdlkfgjkl you goin to hell

Jesse: Should we take our bets now?

Tanya: I’m putting five on the captain throwing her back out TONIGHT

Raya: I’m putting ten on y/n holding out just to be stubborn af

Jesse: I’m with Raya on this one.

You walk through the sand together with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. There’s everything from playful jabs to probing questions to heavy flirting. At some point it transcends the innocence of a first date. Perhaps it's the moment when he offers to carry your heels so you can feel the sand between your toes. Or the moment when you tell him something funny and he laughs into your neck till all you can feel is the rumble of his chest and the warmth of his skin. Maybe it’s the feel of his fingers untangling your hair from your cardigan when the wind traps it. There’s a softness to him in all his overt physicality. He thumbs at your chin playfully and smiles down at you. It’s not just softness then. It’s tenderness too. And you melt into him.

“Hi.” he whispered till you smiled.

“Hi.” You whispered back.

“Can I kiss you by chance?”

Your arms slide closer wrapping firmly around his neck.

“Absolutely.”

If his chest is rock-hard muscle then his lips are the antithesis of that. The kiss is soft and yearning when he wraps them around your own, and his hands ain’t bad either. Before you know it you’re wrapped up in him and he in you until there’s no clear discernment of where one begins and the other ends. But it doesn’t matter when his tongue is just as teasing and probing at his personality, and you fingers scratch roughly through the strands of his hair.

The only thing that could possibly bring such a perfect moment to an end is the need to breathe. You pull away with a stuttering gasp, and he hides his face in your neck with a whine that awakens a whole new fire with you.

“Wow.” He sighed.

“Yea...Wow.”

You blinked a couple of times to try and bring yourself back to reality and out of...whatever the hell that was.

“I should uh--I should get you home right? You had a long day.”

He squeezed at your shoulders before pulling away and you swore it was colder without him near. As the night suddenly hurdled towards a close, you felt a sense of longing. You weren’t quite ready to let him go yet, and the anticipation of being without him was already wreaking havoc on your nerves. The only good news is he holds your hand the entire walk back to the car, and his shoulder makes for lovely resting space.

The car ride feels like a fraction of the time it took to get there. Perhaps it's because you know each other better now, have a taste of what it’s like to be next to one another. Like a junky you were hooked. White, Black, or green, there wasn’t anything that could stop you from wanting to be near him. He was infectious, and he’d gotten himself directly under your skin.

“Could I walk you to the door?” He asks.

“Please.” You nodded.

You take smaller steps as if that will make it all go slower. And a grin forms slowly on your lips when you notice his much lengthier legs attempting to do the same. It’s the kind of PG-13 shit you’d never really experienced before. How pathetic that the second you got just a tiny bit of it you were practically begging for more.

The light beneath your door illuminates the movement of your bodies. You turned with your back to the door to face him, aware for the first time that you’d been smiling for a while, that you had no idea how to stop smiling.

“I gotta say I had a really great time.” You murmured. “Thank you for the effort and the fun and...the kiss.”

“That means the world to me. All I wanted was for you to have a good time. Honestly I think that was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“You know, I think that was the best first date I’ve ever been on as well.”

He smiled widely at you. “Good. So now we’ve set the bar so high that it really only makes sense for us to go on another date right?”

“I think I could be up for that, yea.”

“Could you be up for another kiss?” He teased.

“Could you be up for coming inside?” You countered.

His eyes widened at that, the intricate game of you both keep each other on your toes unfolding. You weren’t even sure where the idea had come from. You certainly hadn’t planned it. At some point you realized you had to go inside, and the thought of him being on the other side of the door just didn’t feel right.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose if you’re tired. I know your work day was long.”

You nodded eyes skimming from his ankles to his hair.

“Suddenly? Not so tired.”

“Me neither. Let’s go inside.”

That’s what you thought.

You unlocked the door to your place leading him into the living room.

“Um make yourself comfortable. I just gotta let my girls know I got home alright. Do you want anything to drink?” You asked.

“I better not. Still gotta drive home.”

There was something about his lack of confidence about getting laid that had you pausing in the kitchen. Few men had ever made it past the threshold on the first date. The threshold may as well have been a neon arrow towards your vagina. Not that you’d decided to have sex with him. Of course not...

Y/n: I know y’all are not placing bets that center around my pussy. Get a life.

Raya: Girl I’m married with two kids and you just went out with Chris Evans. Your life is my life. Don’t take that from me.

Tanya: Now sis, why are you texting us when there is some red, white, and blue DICK to be had.

Jesse: djdflkjgdf

Raya: lmao. She got a point. Did he drop you off?

Y/n: He did.

Tanya: Annnnnnnnnnnd?

Y/n: Annnnnnd my date ain’t over. I simply must be going. Night night!

Your phone began to erupt with buzzes in your palm. You quickly set it to silent to ignore the peanut gallery and headed back to your date.

Chris was in your living room staring at a photo you had set up on the wall. It was you, your mother, and your little brother all wrapped up in each other from your graduation the second time. The fact that his ass was poised like a piece of fruit begging to be plucked from the tree is a secondary detail.

“Is this your family?” He grinned. “You look just like your mother.”

You stalked closer, ready to be in his space again, and smiled.

“This was for degree number two. I’m the first to ever get a master’s, and my mom couldn’t stop crying the whole day. This is the only picture I had where she wasn’t obviously in tears.” You hummed.

“That’s beautiful. She’s got so much to be proud of. You’re clearly an amazing woman.”

Most may have tilted their head in shyness, maybe looked at the ground and ignored the compliment. Such a cliche. You had learned long ago that the most radical, most self-loving thing you could do was believe your own hype. Others will rarely do it for you. Chris seemed to be the exception to many rules.

You raised your chin proudly. “Thank you. Every ounce of it, I get from her. I can assure you of that.”

“I believe you. Mothers really are the superheroes of the world, no pun intended.”

You reached for his hand slowly, heart warming at the way he instantly went to intertwine your fingers. He was truly nestling himself inside your head, your walls coming down one by one. Silence pursued as you led him towards the couch, his eyes raking over every inch of you as you moved. As his back hit the couch, you stepped out of your heels. His legs were deeply parted and the thickness of his thighs looked like the perfect seat. It didn’t help the way his hands were gripping his thighs like an invitation. That knot that sometimes appeared in your belly when he was around tightened.

“Can I sit with you?” You hummed.

“You can sit anywhere you’d like.”

His voice had suddenly gone husky and deep, your eyes fluttering wantonly at the sound. You were mostly definitely going to take him up on that.

You placed your foot on the space of the cushion right next to his thigh, and used the leverage to climb yourself into his lap. His hands immediately came to rest on the small of your back pulling you close, close, close.

This kiss is better. Much better.

Whatever gentlemanly urges he’d proudly displayed throughout the night, quickly gave way to a new urge, a hunger that boiled hot for each of you. It was the same feeling you’d felt when he first caught you at the bar, multiplied by a million. His facial hair rubbed tantalizing along your jaw as he kissed and bit and marked you with reckless abandon. Your fingers turned to fists in his hair and tugged sharply. The moan he released in response had your hips bucking up against his.

“God, come here.” He muttered against your throat.

His too-large palms went from your back to your ass and suddenly he was tugging you rougher, firmer, right against something firm of his own.

“Oh shit.” you whimpered thighs tightening around his waist. “Touch me.”

His lips began a trail from your neck down your cleavage, beard scratching up the flesh until your back was arching in lust.

“Take this off.” He demanded with a tug to your cardigan.

No problem there.

“You next.” You whined and reached for the bottom of his sweater instead.

Your camisole joined the rest of the pile on the floor and suddenly his tongue was finding the patch of skin right between your breasts. Wet didn’t begin to describe what you were experiencing in that moment.

“You’re fucking gorgeous you know that?” He huffed.

Your fingers gripped at his knee for leverage and you leaned back just enough to give your hips room to breathe. And move.

“Fuck.”

You giggled at Chris, your hips sliding against his in the most amazing rhythm.

“I like it when you lose that little nice-guy thing you got going on. What else do you got hidden from me, Chris?”

His hands moved to the thick of your thighs and squeezed hard until you lost your own grip of self-control.

“I think you like to take the reins. I think every part of your life is carefully constructed to your liking. But I’m starting to wonder what it might look like if you lost a little control, y/n. Do you think I could make you do that?”

Your eyes, though hooded with the overwhelming emotions he was making you feel, found a way to burst open at his words. Because in just one single night he saw you. Saw you in a way that you had not willingly given out. There was an armor that you put on to walk out into the world, something intentionally crafted to keep you safe. How had he disabled it in just one night? As sexy as it was, it was also scary. Were you ready to let him take control?

“Look if you wanna make me lose control? You better have something damn good to show for it, sir.” You grinned.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay.”

And just like that you were being lifted into the air like a spaceship taking launch. A man had never lifted you with such ease since you were a child. A grown ass woman of your size wasn’t just thrown around like a rag-doll. Dainty had certainly never been used to describe you. And yet, Chris had managed to stand with your legs and arms wrapped around his like a kola to a tree. His hands on your lower body only throw you further out of whack. This shit was insane. And your pussy was transcending physics with how wet he’d manage to make you.

“Can I take you to bed?” He panted, breath harsh against your lips.

You groaned. “God, yes, boy scout. Please take me to bed.”

Your bed seems perfectly crafted for two, or maybe that’s just the feel of him sucking at the skin of your pulse point. His tongue is suddenly everywhere. On your neck. Below your sternum. At the jut of your hip. He strips you of your jeans and falls victim to the slim space between your thighs. His palms now work on mapping them expansively but not without exploring the thin piece of fabric that separates him from the wetness of your inner folds. All it takes is the tip of his nose to rub against the pubic mound, right above your clit, and you just kind of lose it.

“Holy shit! Please. Just please.” You whined, hips bucking closer to his mouth.

A grin descended upon his face that held all of the cockiness of a man who was sure of himself. It was the first time he’d ever looked like that to you. And lord was it hot.

“Sweetheart listen to me.” He said smoothly. “I’m gonna make you cum now. But you gotta be good for me. Can you do that?”

Your lips parted in shock. What does one say to such a thing?

“Okay.”

He’s not interested in torturing you, at least not this time. As soon as you promise to be good, his tongue snakes out of his mouth and he’s on you. Firm flicks of his tongue and hard sucks of his lips quickly leaves your underwear sodden. It appears he has no interest in taking them off, and you might just care if it weren’t for the way he was rocking your body. Most men couldn’t find a clit if there was a neon sign pointing to it. Chris finds it like it's his damn address. He sucks and licks and drools until your thighs pulse, until your back arches, until your body feels poised like spring begging to break.

Your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders trying desperately to pull him closer. You’re not gonna make it.

“I--I gotta...I gotta cum.” You huffed.

He nods while he’s eating you out and takes your statement as a direction to slip his fingers between the soaked material of your underwear. You’re so wet that there’s barely any hit of tension as his finger slides deep inside of you. You can hear it now right beside the desperate pants of your mouth, the crude slip of his fingers digging into you, searching and pumping. He curls it just right, touches that place, until you can’t breathe, until your bursting for him like an overripe fruit.

Your body throbs and pulses as the orgasm rocks its way through you and he never moves, just licks away your release with the same intensity. When you collapse, he lays his head against your thigh and grins up at you with wet lips and a wet beard and eyes completely void of anything but tenderness.

“Oh fuck off.” You whined pushing your hand tiredly against his face.

He chuckled but absolutely did not fuck off. Instead he took to placing kisses along the skin of your inner thighs as if he was rewinding the coil inside of you so that he could make you come loose all over again.

“You done?” He hummed nosing at your pubic bone. “We can be done, just let me know.”

“Really?”

“Of course, really.”

You bit your lip and watched him for a few minutes. His fingers were drawing patterns on your leg, his lips feeling like they shot sparks all across your skin. You wanted him bad. Whoever said consent wasn’t sexy hadn’t had Chris Evans in their bed obviously.

“Come up here.”

His eyes finally left the dream of your thighs and locked with yours. He trailed slowly up your body, thighs and arms bracketing either side of you. Your back arched involuntarily until your chests touched. He kissed you long enough for the taste of yourself to get lost in your own mouth. His facial hair still scratched hotly at your flesh.There wasn’t anything you wanted more than for him to destroy you in that moment. So that’s exactly what you said.

“Chris?” You mumbled against his lips.

He immediately backed away. “Yea?”

You reached over to the drawer of your bedside table and grabbed aimlessly for protection. The condom wrapper fell into his hand and your legs came naturally around his waist.

“I’d like for you to wreck me...please.”

It didn’t sound like a question. It was much more a demand than a plea. But your boy scout aimed to please. And please he did.

“I can do that.”

Suddenly when Nicki Minaj said You’ll never catch me in a light-skin nigga’s bed, it took on a whole new meaning. Surely she meant light skin like Drake, and sis definitely had a point. But... surely Nicki couldn’t hate you for the choices you made that night, and all the ones you’d go on to make for this man in particular. After-all, it was technically your bed.

buy me a ko-fi?

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iwaisa · 4 years ago

Text

request. Hi! I'm pretty new here and i really love your witing! (I hope to find time soon to binge your masterlist!) I saw you wanted some requests so i was wondering if maybe i could request a oneshot with akaashi x fem reader in which they are out at night and she's cold so he gives her his hoodie? They are best friends crushing on each other and maybe end up confessing? (I hope i requested this ok, i'm sorry if it's too specific 👉🏻👈🏻) Thank you so much!!💕 stay safe and have a good day/night!!✨ - @greywarenns

a/n. i had so much fun writing this ugh. i love akaashi with my whole ass heart. i hope you enjoy ! <3 also, this was my first time using text messages in my fics! it was super fun to make even if the characters might be a little ooc lol.

► now playing...

- pairing. akaashi x female reader

- genre. best friends to lovers

- warnings. there’s one failed confession + angst, but it’s a happy ending :))

- word count. 2.3k+

movie nights with akaashi weren’t uncommon, so why were you damn nervous?

almost every friday since your second year of junior high, the two of you continued the tradition of walking to your house after school and watching movie after movie until the two of you fell asleep on the couch in your living room.

however, as years went by, you began to change. and so did akaashi.

the first time you encountered him in your second year of junior high, you took note of his chubby prepubescent face and short black locks of hair that seemed to frame it perfectly.

at the time, you weren’t aware of how beautiful akaashi really was, but as you watched him grow, you came to the conclusion that you began to have a crush on the boy.

now, his face was no longer chubby. instead, it was thin, and his cheekbones were more prominent. his hair had grown out as well. he was taller, and because of volleyball, his muscles were a feat you couldn’t miss.

another thing that solidified your decision in liking the raven-haired boy were the mannerisms that akaashi portrayed.

whenever he was nervous before a test or a volleyball game, he would shake his leg in an attempt to get rid of the invasive negative thoughts that plagued his mind. in class, he would twirl his pencil in between his fingers, and occasionally tap the eraser end to his temple as if he was attempting to knock his thoughts onto the paper in front of him.

in the midst of your movie marathons, you would glance over to see akaashi wringing his fingers together, and over time you grew accustomed to the sudden sound of him cracking his knuckles.

you would be lying if you claimed you didn’t find these fidgets endearing. you found yourself carrying out these mannerisms as well, which did not go unnoticed by the black-haired male, who would tease you for copying him.

akaashi too kept note of your mannerisms. he watched with piqued interest as you paid more attention to what was going on outside of the classroom than inside, which always earned you a scolding from your teacher. during his games or practices, you would bite your lip in concentration, making akaashi smile.

“if you bite your lip too hard, it’ll start bleeding,” he teased. you swatted his hand away from your head as he reached down to ruffle your hair.

he loved your hair. in fact, he loved everything about you. akaashi was never one to fall for girls purely based on looks, but you seemed to have it all. you were gorgeous to him, and not to mention incredibly hilarious.

akaashi never had an interest in memes until the two of you exchanged numbers at the beginning of your friendship, leaving him confused when you texted a meme that had absolutely nothing to do with the current conversation. laying in his bed at an ungodly hour of the night, he found himself unable to stop his laughter as he read the same meme over and over. your voice on the other end of the phone was addicting, and he found himself wanting to call you whenever he could.

akaashi also found himself wishing to be around you during any free time he had. the two of you ate lunch together, studied together, had classes together, and you hung out around the gym to walk home together. hell, the two of you even had sleepovers every friday.

this was another thing akaashi grew to be extremely nervous about. if he told you how he felt, would you stop being friends with him? that would mean awkward classes, no more eating lunch together or studying, he wouldn’t see you around the gym anymore, and he would lose the only thing he was looking forward to at the end of each week.

the bell signaling the end of the day was the only thing that could snap him out of his intrusive thoughts. he began gathering his books and turned to where you were standing a few feet away, a fake frown plastered on your face.

“you were so deep in thought, keiji. even when i was throwing eraser bits at your head you still wouldn’t snap out of it,” you crossed your arms.

what you said was true, as he looked at his desk to see bits of pink rubber strewn across his desk.

he clicked his tongue, “you gotta clean that up now.”

you skipped past him towards the doorway, “nuh uh. we have to get home. that new movie you mentioned last month came out a few days ago, and i wanna watch it.” he sighed while chuckling, as he swiped the remainders of your pencil erasers into the palm of his hand, walking to the bin.

another thing akaashi loved about you was your impeccable memory. not only did you remember his birthday each year, but you remembered every minuscule detail about him. small things about how his favourite food is nanohana no karashiae, to something he had texted you months ago.

each birthday gift he received from you he kept in the bottom left drawer of his desk. one year, you remembered his favourite author, and ended up buying him a signed copy of a book that had just come out.

he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s read that book a total of seven times, just to reach the message at the back of the book that read, ‘happy birthday, keiji! love, f/n.’

akaashi loved your name. he loved the way it sounded as it rolled off your tongue when you first introduced yourself to him, and the way it remained in his head days and weeks and even months after.

although, he hated how quick he was to snap his head up whenever your name was called in class. he hated the uncomfortable feeling of his palms growing sweaty and his mouth becoming dry whenever he heard your laugh echo throughout the classroom.

most importantly, keiji akaashi hated how he couldn’t tell you how he felt. so, like any person with half a mind, he continued on as if nothing changed. he continued making weekly trips to your house, only to grow increasingly nervous whenever he would walk down your street.

he continued having these sleepovers with you, even though most of the night he would spend staring at the ceiling. he knew that if he turned his head even a tiny bit, he would come face to face with yours, which was something he would not be able to handle. occasionally, he would allow himself to drink in your sleeping appearance from across the couch. you looked so peaceful while in a deep slumber, which was quite the opposite of what akaashi was feeling at the moment.

little did either of you know, you both hated the same thing; not being able to confess to your crush of five years.

“ready to go?” akaashi called out to you as you fell into step with him. you hummed in agreement, and the two of you started down the path to your homes.

the two of you bid a temporary farewell before making your way to your separate streets. you didn’t waste any time in bursting through your front door and running to the bathroom to wash your face. you threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and continued to spiff up your living room while playing soft music from your phone.

your music was soon interrupted by a ding which signaled akaashi’s arrival. you took a deep breath in through your nose and exhaled through your mouth before turning your music off. you quickly ran to the front door to let him in.

“hey. come here often?” you lightly punched akaashi’s stomach as you chuckled at his god-awful pickup line.

“it’s my house, idiot.” he made his way into your house and slipped off his shoes.

“oh. guess i was too lost in your eyes to remember.” you smacked his shoulder as he laughed at your flustered expression.

“by the way, we ran out of popcorn and i’m craving ramune right now, so do you want to head to the store?” he smiled and nodded, following you to your front door.

even though it was still technically summer, it was pretty chilly. you were quick to rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“that’s what you get for wearing shorts and a t-shirt,” akaashi sighed. you were about to retort, but you were quickly confused as akaashi began taking his jumper off.

“wear this,” he mumbled as he slipped it over your head. you giggled as you waved the extra-long sleeves around.

“come on, stop being childish,” he smiled.

he grabbed your wrist and began rolling the sleeve until your hand was freed. he continued to do so for the other sleeve, but his movements were slowed as he looked up to see you staring at him. he let his hand linger on yours for a moment, still keeping eye contact with you. neither of you said anything, but your eyes said it all. you watched as his gaze flickered down to your lips and you felt yourself leaning closer to him.

his thoughts of doubt became too suffocating for akaashi, and he quickly pulled away, leaving you confused and a little heartbroken.

“we gotta get back quickly to watch that movie,” akaashi mumbled as he cleared his throat. you nodded slowly, continuing to walk behind him.

the two of you grabbed your fair share of snacks from the convenience store and you hesitated before stepping outside to meet up with akaashi. were your feelings not reciprocated? is the rest of the night going to be this awkward?

the five minute walk back to your house seemed excruciatingly long. you continued to walk behind akaashi, and you watched as he typed away on his phone. you sighed louder than you meant to, earning a glance from akaashi.

he quickly slipped his phone into his pocket and slowed down to walk beside you. neither of you said anything until you walked into your house.

“i’m going to use the restroom,” akaashi excused himself, leaving you to set everything up. you slumped down onto the couch with a frown etched onto your face. you heart was breaking with each second akaashi kept giving you the silent treatment. you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore.

“boo,” akaashi whispered into your ear, his lips grazing your skin. you jumped, earning a laugh from him.

“d-don’t do that,” you pouted. he sat on the seat next to you, eyes searching your face.

“if you keep frowning like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles,” he jested, making your heart ache more.

“how can i not frown,” you retorted.

you stood up to walk to the kitchen to begin popping the popcorn. you hoisted yourself up onto the counter and waited for the microwave to beep. you watched as akaashi entered the kitchen, his eyes looking at everything but you.

“y-you know...i didn’t mean to… uhm…” he trailed off, rubbing his temples. you tilted your head as you watched him pull his phone out of his pocket. he handed it to you, his eyes still glued to the floor.

“the chat explains everything...i can’t seem to find the words i want to say right now,” he stepped back, twiddling his fingers. you held your breath as you watched akaashi. he was nervous. why was he nervous?

you glanced at the phone and began reading the texts.

you snapped your head up to look at akaashi, who’s gaze was still fixed on the floor.

you placed his phone next to you and hopped off the counter, leaning down to look up at akaashi. he continued wringing his fingers as he made eye contact with you, a look of worry etched onto his face.

“do you really feel this way about me? did you really want to...kiss me?” you asked slowly. akaashi sighed and stopped wringing his hands, bringing them up to rest on your shoulders.

“yes, f/n. i’ve liked you for so long but...i never wanted this friendship to end. i’ve been dreading the day where i let my crush on you slip and you would never want to see me again, and it just broke my heart. i really hope this doesn’t affect anything,” he finished quietly.

“keiji...i...i really like you. i’ve liked you since junior high,” you smiled up at him, cupping his cheeks.

the two of you stood in comfortable silence as you grazed your thumbs over his cheekbones, letting out a sigh of relief.

“that’s good to hear,” he chuckled, with you humming in response. “will you let me do something?” you nodded.

you held your breath as akaashi moved his hands to rest on your hips and leaned down. you two tapped noses and chuckled, before he grazed your lips with his.

“i really like you, f/n.” he mumbled before pressing his lips to yours. it was a sweet, quick kiss. you felt yourself smile into it, and you moved your hands to cup the back of his head.

the two of you pulled away, and he softly bumped his forehead with yours. you chuckled, earning a smile from him.

“that was amazing, keiji...” you whispered.

he used one hand to pull you closer, and he reattached your lips. you hummed in surprise, and melted into the kiss. you moved your hands to tug at his hair, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. he nipped at your bottom lip before pulling back, keeping eye contact with you.

“the popcorn is burning,” he quipped.

you pulled out of his embrace and ran to the microwave, pulling the bag of burnt popcorn out. you turned around to watch akaashi laugh, and you felt your heart flutter.

“be my boyfriend?” you blurted out.

he stopped for a moment, before walking over to press a kiss to your temple. “yes please.”

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#keiji akaashi #akaashi

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