#two was probably happy just to stay on the island and work his odd jobs helping out in the community etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laketaj24 · 3 years

Text

Single in Staten Island: Tattoos & Kisses

Author’s Note: This is a three-part series I am going to do on Pete!! I am going to use the prompts I got in the second part! I talked with a friend about him—he does truly deserve a good girl or someone who won’t fuck him over. Taglist is here! Reqs are open, but I’m slow, no lie.

Warnings: None, just language.- Smut in the following parts.

Pairings:Pete Davidson x Reader

Masterlist

“What’s your order?” The chipper attitude they were supposed to have had left the day you turned in your two-week notice. This coffee shop had been the bain of your assistance. Fuck this place. Fuck these people and fuck their fancy, overdone ass orders. You leaned on the counter, giving the man in front of you a stern look.

He looked around. Clearly, you didn’t have an attitude with him. He’d just walked in the fucking place. “Uhm—,” his eyes found the menu, but there was an aloofness in him that triggered you.

“You’ve been in line ten minutes, and you don’t know what you want?”

“Yep.” He nodded and shot a smile. “Ten whole minutes. Still a fuck up.” His finger tapped on the counter, and he looked up at the menu. Nothing here looked worth seven dollars, especially not a coffee. “What’s good here?”

“Look, I don’t know. ”You sighed. “I’m about to go lunch, and you’re the last order.” You flourished the lack of customers behind him.

“You from around here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Your attitude is pretty fucked up; I figured you lived up the block.” He took a pregnant pause and chuckled. “An Everything Bagel, jalapeño cream cheese, and a grande black coffee.”

“What’s the name?”

“Pete.”

“Spell that.”

“You can’t spell Pete?”

“You from around here?” You quipped.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I figured your name is probably spelled all fucked up and shit.”

He laughed, which was not what you expected; you just knew this was the gasoline added to a shitty fire. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Kinda weird.” He shrugged. “You wanna go somewhere better than this on your lunch break?”

“Unless you have a gram and a beer, no.”

“I have a gram and some black coffee if the barista doesnt quit before she puts my order in.”

You snickered. “That’ll do. Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but fucking Staten Island.”

The ferry. It hadn’t been in the plans, but you were happy you said yes to the lean stranger. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette in one hand a flask in the other. It wasn’t precisely beer, but you had no complaints. “You want a sip?”

“Sure,” You took the flask without hesitation and chugged down three gulps before passing it back to him. It was gin, dry grade A gin. “That’s the kind of shit you bring on a ferry?”

“I thought I grabbed my tequila, but I must’ve drunk it all.”

“Drunk at 2pm on a Tuesday?”

“I’m not drunk; I’m enjoying a drink. Judge much?”

You shrugged and turned, resting your back on the railing beside him, feeling the cool breeze run through your hair. “So why did you invite me out here?’

“You looked like you needed saving, and I’ve been there. Shitty job with shitty people.” He flicked his cigarette ashes into the water below him. “Plus, you cussed me out on the job, which means your kinda badass.”

“I like to think I am.” You admit and nod your head. “You ever get tired of doing the same old shit?”

“yep, that’s why I get tatted.”

Then you noticed the tattoos spackled across his body in random places, and they were once more in a random fashion. Yet, you liked them; they matched him, odd and somehow insanely attractive. “Pete, I want a tattoo. Take me to your guy.”

“What do you mean to take me to my guy? Does it look like I have a guy?” Pete laughs. “I’m like a god damn coloring book; let’s find the first shop and just do it. I pick yours… you pick mine. Stranger tats.”

“Why not?”

“Your boyfriend won’t appear and try to beat my ass?”

“Unless you’re imaginary, too, I think you’re good.”

‘Fucking Brickhouse like you, single in Staten Island?”

“Single in Staten island is not a rarity.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It’s the only way to be.” He said with a bit of sarcasm.

The conversation was random the entire ferry trip; you made wisecracks and rebutted, flirting with you but keeping his distance. “Tell me three weird facts about yourself.” You twiddled with your fingers and looked up to meet his brown eyes. “I’m sure you have more than three, but spare me the rest.”

“I like to be alone.” Pete looked back. “But I love a good party, but when I go, I hang out alone and watch people. People are interesting as fuck.”

“I find them to be boring.”

“That’s because you’re not looking for the right things.” He pointed to the woman about fifty feet away from the two of you. The older lady sat tired, sunglasses covered her face while the gray hair blew wild in the wind. “See Gladys there; she’s about to go home to a man she’s been with for thirty-five years. The best dick she ever had.”

Your face radiated with heat as you suppressed a chuckle. “Has to be to stay with it thirty-five years.”

“You haven’t had someone dick you down that makes you want to stay thirty-five years?”

“Not even make me want to stay a week,” You answered.

“That’s fucked up.” Pete smiled.

“That’s life, Pete. Unfortunately, people don’t always get good dick like Gladys.”

“Yeah, lucky bitch.” His phone rang, and he shifted, digging in his light denim jeans to retrieve his iPhone and answer the call. “It’s Pete.”

You turned, giving him some privacy and taking it all in. You didn’t plan to return to work, fuck that place and everything it entailed. You started a new job in three days; you’d take these three days to not give a fuck. That feeling started today; it started with your new friend Pete and this tattoo. The call ended after a few minutes; he didn’t talk about much, just a conversation with a friend and plans he had for a party later tonight.

“The shop is about five blocks from where we get off. Have you decided what I’m getting?”

“I want to see the designs first; I want it to be memorable.”

“Make it your number.”

“Is that your coded way in asking for it?”

“Not coded, I swear.” Pete leaned closer to you. “I kinda think if we are gonna get stranger tattoos, we should have each other’s number.’

“We won’t be strangers then.”

“Call them something else then.”

“I’ll let you know if you can have this number later… I haven't got an invite to this party yet.”

“You're totally invited.” Pete tossed his hands up. “Give me three digits.”

“847.” You snickered.

“Good, I guess I can work for the next seven.”

The shop was grimy, with dark walls and low lights. The smell of weed and liquor hit your nose, and you felt at home for some reason. Your legs ached; the walking didn’t bother you usually but pairing it with walking didn’t do much good for you. You sat in the chair across from Pete. “Don’t make this a dumb tattoo.”

“You’re talking to the king of dumb shit.” He pointed to the small elephant; it wasn’t dumb, though. It had a feminine line design, and it was petite, adorable even. “I’m sparing you today. You’re getting this,” He smiled. “An elephant, not dumbo but a distant hot cousin.”

“I like it.”

“Good.” His smile was sincere. “I hoped you would. When is she up?” He asked the artist.

“I can get her now.” He answered as he started to sketch the elephant onto the transfer paper. “Hop up, sweet cheeks, and it’ll be about ten minutes.”

Pete extended his hand like a gentleman and led you to the red leather chair. ‘Ever had one before?”

“I have three.” You admitted.

“I see none.” He looked you over quizzically. “Not a one.”

“They are hidden….” You answered, choosing not to tell him they were down your chest and down your thigh.

“Secret tattoos. I like it. I can dig it.”

“Sure. Where is this party tonight?” You asked.

“Back in Staten Island.”

‘Can I trust you, Pete?”

“I hope so; I feel trustworthy?”

“You answered that like you didn't know the answer.” You shifted in the seat and pulled your shirt over your head. You revealed the tattoo of the moon phases going down your chest. “Just because you can't see something does not mean it isn’t there.”

“They're fucking awesome, like the person they are on.”

“You only think I’m awesome because you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.”

It was not like you to kiss a stranger because instead, you wanted to admit it or not, Pete was a stranger to you; you didn’t care. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, and he responded immediately, kissing you back eagerly. His lips were soft, full, and applying just the perfect amount of pressure to yours.

“You two want to fuck or get this tattoo.”

You exhaled, pulling away from him. “Can we do both?”

To be Continued.

@honestsycrets @pyschiccreationtaco @opalsandlacemain @battbeans @placeoffreedom @daddyavesxx @niamandthings @honeyel @locht3ssmonster @itslovengie

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson x you #pete davidson x black!reader #laketa j writes

342 notes · View notes

battybatzgirl · 3 years

Text

Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary:

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

---

Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

58 notes · View notes

platypanthewriter · 3 years

Text

The Tanning Rock

Harringrove April prompt 28, Tanning--Creatures!AU (This one grew to nearly 6k and I’m so sorry) @wasting-time-again HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, HAVE A MERMAN! XD

The lawyer who summoned Billy—about an inheritance, he said—was...weird. Straight out of a movie, with long incisors and a cravat, and he steepled his fingers as he talked.

Max said he was probably actually a vampire, and Billy agreed—which was weird, because as far as Billy knew, his mom’s family wasn’t exactly old money, and it was hard to imagine a vampire getting on a plane to fly clear to California and summoning him to a crypt full of file cabinets, all just to read a will about his mom’s collection of surfing stickers and pile of old National Geographics.

Billy knew his father had disowned him, so he bit his lips together, waiting to hear that his mother had died.

“I am here about the estate of your grandmother,” said the vampire lawyer, and Billy drew a shaky breath of relief. “Your mother was disowned—” he said, and Billy almost snorted a laugh—like mother, like son, he thought, “—and so her domicile has passed to you.”

“Wait, what,” Billy breathed, wide-eyed.

“It is an unusual case,” said the lawyer—Fangun and Stayk, est. 986, read his card, but Billy wasn’t sure whether he was speaking to Fangun or Stayk, or whether the whole thing was a joke yet, so he kept his mouth shut. “You will take ownership of the house and land, however, you may not live there—that is, not year-round, not unless you are given an invitation by a resident. It is a closed community.”

“...can I sell it?” Billy asked, and the deepset eyes of the lawyer stared back at him, bloodshot and dry.

“At well below market value,” he said, steepling his fingers again. They made a dryish noise. “As I said, they dislike outsiders. And a stranger will be even more of an outsider than you, in whom runs...the blood of the place.”

Billy wondered, dully, whether he’d inherited a haunted graveyard, or a den of werewolves, and groaned into his hands. Maybe he was part zombie somehow. Just his luck. “Where is it,” he sighed.

“It is not on commonly available maps,” said the vampire, and Billy nodded. It figured, he thought, though his ears perked up considerably when his grandmother’s lawyer laid out a map of Hawaii.

They got a ride from the shore on a fishing boat at four o’clock in the morning. “It’s barely tourist season yet,” said the fisherwoman, showing Max how to steer. “There will be a ferry, in a week or two, but I can give you two a ride out the day your visa’s up if the ferry quits sooner.”

“We want enough time to look around,” Max said, glancing at Billy. They’d let their lease run out, and sold most of their things, because a few orange crates of records were a small price to pay for never running into Neil Hargrove around town. “You could get a job on one of the normal islands,” Max had suggested, quietly, over and over. “If they don’t like us enough.”

Billy’d never suggested moving Max so far away, but she’d assumed they were going, and after a while he went along with it. It wouldn’t be so bad, he thought, getting a job in a hotel somewhere after the islanders threw him out. Max would probably love it, in Hawaii.

A fresh start, she had said, and it sounded good.

He and Max were greeted by a woman in a wheelchair, who stamped their passports. “Technically, we’re a different country,” she said, smiling. She had very brown skin, and looked contentedly half-asleep in the sun. “You’re the only visitors on the island, for a week or two,” she said, cocking her head. “We’re not always in a big hurry to scrub up the ferry for the summer. We love the money, but the tourists...” she laughed, shaking her head. “Three-month pleasure trip visa. Have a nice summer,” she said, waving them away.

Her benign lack of interest lessened Billy’s initial fears that he’d inherited membership in some rich, yoga-pants-wearing, white Human Superiority cult.

The house was traditional-ish, with a grass roof and walls, big open windows with no glass, only shutters, and a wide shaded veranda all the way around. It looked over a beach with rolling waves, and Billy couldn’t wait to get his board out there.

“I’m gonna look around the house,” Max said. “See if I can find any neighbors. Maybe I can bring them cookies.” She set her jaw, frowning around at their luggage, and the scattered pillows. “Maybe we can buy some furniture somewhere.”

“...we can always just come here for summers,” Billy told her, breathing it in.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have a great time getting a tourism job where you don’t work summers,” Max said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, and Billy realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that she expected him to figure it out. Find someone who wanted him to stay, here, on the island, at his grandmother’s house.

“I’m no good at making friends, Max,” he reminded her, and she snorted.

“Better get out of my hair, then.” She folded her arms, taking another deep breath of the smell of grass in the sun. After a long moment, she looked back at him again. “...we’ve got a little over three months, Billy.”

He suspected it sounded longer to her.

When he wandered down to the beach, Billy could see someone’s tanned shoulders lying across a jutting rock about fifty feet out, and he paddled a ways towards it on his surfboard, getting the lay of the ocean. There was a rip tide, dark and eerily quiet, to his right, but the rest of the beach had shallow, warm, clear waves over white sand and coral until a dark dropoff about fifty feet out where the rolling waves began.

As he paddled closer to the rock, he could see the man on it—asleep, Billy thought, just lying in the sun as the waves lapped at his skin. As Billy drifted closer, paddling with his hands, he could see a long-fingered hand hanging in the water, and he paddled faster, suddenly wondering whether the man wanted to be out on a rock, or whether he was a Dude In Distress, his leg cramped, needing a ride to the beach on Billy’s surfboard and a trip around the boardwalk, and maybe some shaved ice.

As Billy approached, the guy opened his eyes, frowning over at Billy with wide, half-awake brown eyes. He pushed himself up on the rock with his arms like the goddamn Little Mermaid, Billy thought, amused. His throat went dry watching the flex of muscle, and the water droplets where the dude had lifted himself out of the bay.

Billy paddled at random, a little, unable to tear his eyes away. He cleared his throat. “Just, uh, making sure you didn’t need any help,” he said, staring at the tanned arms and swimmer’s chest in front of him, nearly triangular, like a superhero. “I, um. Guess you’re fine.”

The guy raised his eyebrows, starting to smirk, and then his eyes widened, and Billy realized in a flash of blue and foam that he’d drifted right into the fucking rip tide. Right in front of the gorgeous dude on the rock, Billy thought in the back of his mind, trying to hold onto his surfboard and let the rip tide take him wherever it would. Just his luck, he thought, dying because he was so damn gay he saw nice shoulders and his brain switched off. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to breathe before he got sucked down, and his lungs and sinuses were starting to ache worse than the rest of him, even as he was buffeted around against his board, when an arm slid around his waist.

He wanted to yell at the guy—and he did, in an explosion of bubbles—because what the hell good was it gonna do, swimming into a rip tide, but the muscles against his back and butt flexed, and they were moving sideways out of the rip tide, and then Billy’s head was above water. He gasped and choked, coughing up half the sea. The ocean moved soothingly around them, as this dude had no trouble holding Billy up, and Billy tried to clear his throat and eyes.

“Have you seriously never seen a tail before,” the guy groaned, hauling Billy along like he was no more effort to lift than a little kid at the pool. Billy felt rock against his thigh, suddenly, and scrambled onto it, coughing and wiping his eyes to see he was on the jutting rock the dude must have jumped off of, to save him.

“How-how fucking humiliating,” he gasped out loud. “Can’t believe. C-can’t believe I fucking p-paddled into a rip tide.”

“You drifted back into the...yeah,” his hot rescuer said, still in the water, with one hand on the rock to hold him steady as he frowned at Billy. His voice sounded a little odd—Billy was reminded of the Chinese grocery by his house, where their English was perfect, but they had a lilt as they tried to speak an atonal language with a tonal ear. Up close, he was even prettier, with moles Billy wanted to track down his neck and shoulders, and a doubtful, scrunched-up mouth Billy wanted to kiss.

“Sorry,” Billy wheezed, still coughing. “Sorry, I’m such a moron, sorry.” He tried to keep his eyes above the water level, but some part of his brain kept looking for tanned legs kicking under the surface, and he suddenly registered that the moving colors weren’t just fish and anemones. “Holy shit,” he coughed out. “You have a tail.”

His rescuer frowned harder, probably worried Billy had brain damage. “I figured that’s why you swam into the rip tide,” he said slowly, and Billy shook his head, groaning.

“No—fuck, I’m sorry, you—you’re just hot as fuck, I’m just a moron, I’m—damn it,” he sighed. “Sorry, jesus, I’m so fucking rude, sorry, I just didn’t notice, I was like ‘How the hell did he get me out of there? OH!’, sorry,” he muttered, sighing. “...drown me.”

“I am though, right,” the merman said, grinning, “—hotter than you,” and Billy realized he’d found the only person on the island more annoying than he was.

“Yeah, yeah, just laugh at the poor gay moron who nearly drowned staring at you, that’s nice,” he huffed, lying back against the warm rock to catch his breath.

“Was it love at first sight?” asked his rescuer, and Billy opened his eyes to glare.

“Shut up, asshole,” he grunted.

“Just asking,” his tormenter asked. “Are you gonna pine away, sighing over me? Hey, d’you think you’ll always do that? If I swim over in town, you think you’ll fall off the boardwalk?”

“Fuck you,” Billy told him, leaning his face in his arms and laughing. “Yeah, probably, you shithead. Are you gonna...follow me around? So I can look like more of an idiot?”

“Mmm, can you though…” the gorgeous merman asked thoughtfully, and Billy growled into his arms, feeling his whole body warm. He blamed it on the sun. “Why,” his rescuer asked, pulling himself up to laugh against Billy’s ear. “—you want me to follow you someplace?”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, laughing harder. “Are you afraid to leave me alone now? What if I try and eat my surfboard?”

“...are you gonna?”

“Maybe?!” Billy told him, then pushed himself up, frowning around to look for it.

“I’ve got it, it’s right here,” the smug asshole told him, waggling the surfboard in the water. “Want me to take you back to shore?”

“No!” Billy laughed, sighing. “I’m going surfing, just because I nearly died making an ass of myself doesn’t mean—”

“Hrm, maybe I should keep an eye on you.”

“Why,” Billy asked, then pitched his voice just a little lower. “You like what you see?”

“I could get used to it,” the merman said, and Billy started to preen, but the dickhead finished with “—kind of a comedy special, kind of thing,” and Billy reached over and smacked a big splash of water at him.

He laughed, his throat arching back, the gills along it thin dark lines that Billy fantasized kissing around.

Just as Billy was considering grabbing the surfboard and using it as a weapon of blunt force trauma, the merman leaned in close, his smirk widening around pointed teeth, and his cool, salty lips pressed firmly against Billy’s. Billy made a weird gulping noise in his throat, and the asshole started to pull away, but Billy leaned in, and fell clean off the rock. His weight dunked them both, and they rose sputtering and laughing, Billy held securely in his merman’s arms as his surfboard floated away. He couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“...my name’s Billy,” he panted.

“...Steve,” the mer-dickhead said, raising his eyebrows, like it was weird to want to know his name.

“...I inherited a house here,” Billy told him in a rush, drunk on kisses. “I’m from California. My mom used to talk about this place when I was a kid. Surfing here. With her mom.”

“...is she here?” Steve asked, steadying them with one hand on the rock, and glancing back at the beach.

Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Fuck, sorry, you don’t need to know my shit. We can make out. You’re short-circuiting my brain.”

“...I should probably get your surfboard,” Steve told him, grinning, but he leaned his head in again, gentle with his sharp teeth, and Billy inhaled shakily as the points grazed his lips and tongue.

“Jesus,” he whispered, once he could talk, and then he licked his lips and wrenched himself away to swim after his surfboard, just so his smug rescuer wouldn’t have to fetch it for him. The waves got bigger as he got out to where the trees weren’t acting as a windbreak, and he clambered up on his board, glaring back as Steve wolf-whistled.

When he let the tides pull him back towards the gorgeous merman on the rock, he lost his mind again, telling him his tail looked like a peacock butt, and Steve cracked up, grinning at him.

“...so, neighbor, you have to win someone over enough to invite you to stay,” he said, cocking his head.

“Yup,” Billy told him, pointing up at the house he’d inherited, built into the hill, the old grass vacation cottage blending in with the trees.

“And your method is to tell me I look like bird ass,” Steve continued, and Billy grimaced, waving his hands.

“No! No, I don’t—I know people have to get to know you. Here. I’ll…” he sighed. “I’ll try for a few months and see what happens. If nothing...clicks, maybe I’ll try again next summer,” he said, grimacing, and wondering what Max would do, if they weren’t allowed to stay. Leave, maybe, he thought—she was seventeen, and she could get a job herself.

He ended up teaching Steve to surf, after showing off his best efforts. When he swam back, panting, Steve looked properly impressed, and even more tanned. “Teach me,” he said, and Billy leaned in to kiss him again, nodding.

“That gonna get you to like me enough to let me stay?” Billy asked, and Steve frowned at him, but Billy laughed, and leaned in for another kiss.

“Tomorrow?” Steve had whispered against his lips, and Billy got no sleep at all that night, he just rolled over every couple hours to check the clock, and see that another two minutes had passed.

Steve was fascinating to watch on the board, his tail trailing as he controlled it with his hands around either side, his abs flexing as he held himself in a kind of plank pose with the support of his tail. Billy watched, and realized he was drooling.

“You like me enough to keep me?” he asked that night, teasing, and Steve laughed.

“Ask me again tomorrow.”

Merpeople—or at least, Steve, Billy corrected mentally, realizing he was dealing with a sample size of one—loved bread. Like a cat, Billy thought, watching Steve eye his croissant, or bagel. He started just bringing one every morning for Steve, and some coffee, and it was hilarious watching the fluffy flesh of a croissant dangling between Steve’s shark-like teeth. He waited every morning, and even though Billy wasn’t sure whether Steve was waiting for Billy or the bread he was carrying, he got heart palpitations every time he came down the ramp to the dock, and he could see the little lump of Steve’s head on his folded arms, the rest of him hanging off into the water.

“A few bagels aren’t enough to win me over,” Steve told him, and Billy’s stomach twisted, a little. He wished he hadn’t brought it up, kind of—the knowledge that he might have to leave hurt, like a sore tooth he couldn’t stop worrying at in his mouth. “Maybe more croissants,” Steve said, smiling, and Billy brought him more croissants.

When they’d arrived, they’d discovered the town was filled with mermaid stuff, and at first, Max and Billy had snickered at it, because surely even if there’d been a merperson or two living near a human town once, they’d died decades ago, or they just traded with fishing boats, far out at sea. They hadn’t considered the amount of people in wheelchairs, or the spray bottles close to hand.

When Billy suggested he bring lunch down from town, Steve swam over to haul himself up—his tail flashing in the light—through the bottom of one of the little sheds on the dock. Moments later, he banged the door open, wheeling out in an old rusty wheelchair. He spun it in a circle, waiting for Billy to climb out of the water, and then zipped ahead up the ramp to the path.

“Wait up, jesus,” Billy yelled after him, and Steve laughed, the muscles in his arms mesmerizing as they spun the wheels. He slowed down eventually, panting, enough for Billy to jog and catch up. “...lemme know if you want me to push,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted.

“Touch my chair and die,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Billy said, holding his hands up, and Steve laughed.

“It makes me…” he squinted, thinking. “...seasick…?” he offered, and Billy nodded, trotting along next to him.

“Motion-sick, probably,” he suggested, and Steve mouthed it as he rolled along.

The lady at the shaved ice stand leaned out and folded her arms on the edge of the little window, laughing at Steve. “You know they make those that work!” she called, and he flipped her off. “They don’t have to be electric! They make ‘em that just move smoothly.”

“It’ll just rust in my shed,” Steve told her, shrugging. “It’s fine.” As they waited for their tacos, Steve pulled up to a table, and his rusty, janky wheels kept rolling backwards, until Steve sighed and bent down to stuff some rocks under there.

“My friend Robin and I went in together on a nicer one,” he said, “—but I can’t park it in the shed. This one’s not so bad,” and Billy’s perception of it shifted a bit—maybe it was more like getting stuck with an old beater car occasionally, instead of something Steve needed help with. “...want to wander around, after?” Billy asked. “I haven’t got any souvenirs yet.”

Steve paused, then licked his lips. “Planning your trip home already?”

“...dunno yet,” Billy said, the invitation unspoken between them. It seemed ridiculous to want to stay so badly just because he’d met a pair of gorgeously tanned shoulders and a teasing smile, but it also wasn’t...hard to imagine, lingering on the island to go snorkeling with Steve, and learning about the reefs—he’d absorbed enough for a few semesters of marine biology, he was fairly sure, but told as stories, just off-handed things Steve had seen—and Billy was already wanting a drysuit, so he could go in the fall. Maybe Billy could get a job on a fishing boat, he thought vaguely, or help out in one of the shops.

If Steve would invite him.

Steve had slid his hands under Billy’s swimsuit a few times, pressing him back on their rock, or on the docks, rocking into him as Billy panted and gasped and fell apart under his hands—but he never said anything, after, and Billy hesitated to ask whether it was...anything, to Steve. Maybe he picks an idiot every summer, he thought, watching Steve smile at the depictions of mermaids on every surface of every shop on the main street.

“You all spend so much time keeping everything dry and dead,” he said, grinning over at Billy, who’d been anticipating a comment on the mermaid’s hourglass-like proportions, not her lack of water damage.

“...oh,” he said.

“I have a figurehead like that, but covered in anemones,” Steve said, cocking his head. “It’s beautiful.”

“I mean...you could...plant a vine on it, maybe?”

Steve nodded. “Put it outside in the rain, let it grow.” The lady behind the counter sighed, rolling her eyes, and Steve laughed.

“There’s a whole movement to ‘preserve’ our art,” he whispered to Billy. “Which mostly means they don’t let it become our art.”

“Huh,” Billy said, wondering whether human houses looked like museums, or mausoleums, to merpeople.

“Not to say that I’d pour water on your television set, or drop your mattress in the bay,” Steve said, grimacing a little, and watching Billy’s face. “I get that much.” He looked kind of uncomfortable with the lady behind the counter glaring at him, ducking his head.

Billy leaned to kiss him. He nearly steadied himself on the chair, and then remembering it would roll, and just held his hands away. Steve grinned up at him, particularly at his outstretched hands, and yanked Billy down on his not very much of a lap, hurriedly curling his tail up and around Billy’s waist as Billy threatened to slide down the smooth scales to the ground. Billy threw his arms around Steve’s neck, wide-eyed, as Steve held the wheels firmly, keeping the chair from rolling backwards under the weight of two grown men.

“Let’s go,” Steve whispered, and Billy nodded, breathing Steve’s sun-and-salt smell, and wondering whether it was okay to ask whether Steve would consider inviting him to stay—just until the next season, Billy thought, as the chair and Steve’s tail moved under him. Until the next summer, when he could ask whether Steve wanted him to stay again, or whether he wanted Billy gone.

After staying a whole year, Billy thought he might not have it in him to ask whether Steve was tired of him yet, but the thought of waking every morning to run down to the docks with coffee and banana bread was addictive, and he tried not to think about the end.

Billy ran into the lady who’d stamped his passport, and caught himself staring at her tanned legs propped up on the railing. “Oh, I’m human,” she said, laughing. “But I love it here. I can even shop in the little bookstore, imagine,” she said, and now that Billy thought about it, he realized it had an elevator in the back, and little lifts for the walkways along the higher shelves. “I’ve never had someone offer to lift me into their cafe, here,” she said, her nose wrinkled, and Billy nodded slowly.

“Shoot that thing!” she yelled, when she saw Steve’s awful old wheelchair, and he flipped her off.

“We can only invite a few people,” Steve told him, as they ate noodle bowls. “It’s for somebody you marry, you know, their family, maybe. Or if you leave the island, and have a kid.”

“Yeah,” Billy said softly, hearing the message clearly—invitations were not to be wasted, and Billy wasn’t special enough to keep. He finished his lunch, trying not to feel all butthurt about it. Max would probably understand.

Steve kissed him again, on the docks, and Billy leaned into it, feeling the familiar pressure of tears in his sinuses, and behind his eyes. He had three weeks left, he told himself. Three more weeks. Steve slid a hand up the back of Billy’s head, humming against his mouth, and Billy let himself go soft in his arms.

When they returned to the docks, Steve dug a big beach blanket out, and they spread it out on the sand, and Billy stayed out that night, losing himself in Steve’s warm hands and mouth, under stars like he’d never seen before.

Steve was watching his face the next morning, with a little frown, and Billy pulled away, sitting up.

“Better than croissants?” Billy asked, smirking a little, and Steve sighed.

“Was that what this was? Fucking me won’t make me give you an invitation,” he said. He didn’t look amused, the way he had over the bagels, and Billy wondered whether it had worked, a little. Billy’d always had a talented mouth.

“I won’t know if I don’t try, will I,” he said, laughing. “Maybe another round will help?”

“...I have to go,” Steve said, and he didn’t even fold up the blanket, just pushed himself off the edge and slid over the wet sand into the water, gone in a flip of tail. Billy watched for long minutes to see whether he’d come back—they’d been spending every day together, but probably Steve had stuff he needed to do, all the things he’d done before Billy had shown up at the island, easy with his body and his affections.

Billy folded up the blanket, and sat it in the shed, looking around. There really wasn’t much in there—it was the size of a small bathroom, with some knives for fishing, and a frayed net, and the beat-up wheelchair.

It smelled like Steve, and Billy stood and breathed, his eyes blurring with tears.

Steve didn’t come back, and after an hour or so Billy walked home, and ran into Max returning. “Billy!” she said, with a wide grin. “Nice night? I was out getting breakfast.” She told him about somebody named El, and somebody else named Lucas, and a Dustin.

Max was making friends too, he realized, which kind of made everything worse—she was doing her best, and Billy was just mooning over some guy who thought he was barely good enough for a fuck on the beach. She’d even met their families, he realized, listening, and registered that he hadn’t met any of Steve’s friends. He groaned into the pillows tossed around on the mat floor, and sighed.

“Should I stop seeing him?” he asked, mostly at the ceiling.

“I dunno why now,” Max said. “You’re not gonna find somebody else in a couple weeks.”

“Shit,” Billy groaned again.

“We can try again next summer,” Max said. “I like it here.”

The idea of returning the next summer, once Steve was bored, was enough to make Billy clench his jaw tight against the pillow he was hugging, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. “...yeah,” he said softly.

“God, you sound tragic,” she sighed, wandering over and dropping to sit on his butt. He grunted. “It’s fine, jesus. Worst case scenario we have a, like, vacation home. The vampire dude said we didn’t have to pay taxes on it.”

“Yeah, just pay for plane fare,” Billy sighed.

“He’s out there, y’know,” she said, “—tanning,” and Billy scrambled up so fast he dumped her with a drum noise on the taut mats.

When he swam out, Steve just stared out to sea, and Billy clung to the edge of the rock, biting his lips.

“I’m not giving you one of my invitations,” Steve said. “So stop trying to manipulate me into it.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, kind of wishing they’d never met. “Yeah, okay. Do—is that all, or are you sticking around?”

“I’ll stay,” Steve said, frowning at him, “—if you still wanna waste your time on somebody who’s not—how do you say it? Putting out?”

“...it’s not a waste of time,” Billy told him, swallowing hard. “I just wanted it to last longer, is all—” and Steve’s eyes narrowed intently. He grabbed Billy around the back of the neck, and yanked him into a kiss.

The remaining weeks, he took Billy snorkeling, and they had sex every night under the stars, Billy panting Steve’s name, and Steve holding him so tightly it almost hurt. Billy took him to meet Max, and she eyed him warily, but Billy fought and succeeded at securing Steve a plate of brownies, and he was vocally appreciative. She softened a little, at that.

Two days before they had to leave, Steve was lying next to Billy on the wet sand, the waves lapping up nearly to their waists. His shoulder was warm under Billy’s head, and smelled like the high ocean waves.

“...d’you think you’ll come back next summer,” Steve asked, and Billy snorted.

“Depends on whether I can afford airfare,” he said, sighing. “Depends on whether I can get a job somewhere that doesn’t need me in the summer.”

“...so I might just never see you again?” Steve asked flatly, and Billy laughed, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” he said, “—do you want to?”

“...fuck you,” Steve sighed, and Billy pushed himself up to frown at Steve’s face.

“I don’t know what you want,” he said, glaring back at Steve’s narrowed brown eyes. “You wanted me to shut up about staying. What am I supposed to say?”

Steve bit his lips together, and looked away. “...you know I’m gonna give you an invitation. You can just tell me.”

“What,” Billy whispered, scrambling to sit up, his heart pounding as Steve flopped over to scrabble around under his wheelchair, his tail flapping around a little in concentration, like a cat’s. He held an envelope out to Billy without even looking over.

“There,” he said. “All yours.”

“What,” Billy breathed, and then he half-crumpled it, opening it clumsily. “You—you’re giving me one?”

“Two,” Steve said, flatly, frowning down at the sand under his hands. “You and Max, right?”

“Holy shit,” Billy whispered, scrambling over to kiss him, once, then twice, relishing the little noise Steve made in the back of his throat when his lip slid between Billy’s teeth. “I have to go tell her,” he said, half laughing, his vision blurring with tears.

“Okay,” Steve said, quietly, and Billy hugged him before scrambling up and running back to the house.

Max stared at the two calligraphed invitations on the odd plasticky “paper” the merfolk used, written in Sharpie, and shook her head slowly. “You did it,” she said, and Billy laughed, nodding.

“He wanted me to stay enough,” he said, wiping his eyes, and desperately wanting Max to offer to handle the paperwork, so he could run back and kiss Steve.

There was a knock on the door. Max ran and opened it, and a short-haired woman wheeled in in a rainbow overall dress, and a small, fancy electric wheelchair, her tail the reds and oranges of a sunset. Billy never quite stopped being envious of how pretty the merpeople were.

“Steve gave you his invites, didn’t he,” she said, and Max slid them around her back, her eyes narrowing.

“...yeah,” Billy said, warily.

“Give them back to him,” she ordered, glaring between them. “He’s been saving those a long-ass time. He’s got plans for those, and he doesn’t need guilt-tripping by a pair of manipulative orphans, jesus.”

“I didn’t guilt-trip him,” Billy said, feeling guilty, suddenly, and remembering Steve’s stiffness as he handed them over. “I didn’t,” he said, less certainly. “...he...he just likes me, he wants me to stay—”

“He’s known you three months, and you told him you fucked him to get someplace nice for your sister to live,” she said crisply. “Give them back.”

“He’s not giving them back,” Max hissed, but she was staring at Billy in horror.

“I didn’t say that,” Billy said, waving his hands. “I didn’t! Not...exactly.”

“Fuck you,” the woman said, glaring. “You pressured him.”

“Fuck,” Billy agreed, his eyes tearing up again. “Lemme—lemme go talk to him. Max, give—give ‘em here.”

“No,” she said, sounding choked, but he walked over and grabbed them, and hugged her.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said under his breath, for her ears only, and ran back out.

Steve was perched up on his rock again, and Billy grabbed his surfboard and sat on it to glide out, paddling with his hands. The water was clear under him, his shadow passing over the anemones on the reef, and he watched the fish darting around, swallowing repeatedly.

“Hey,” he said, when he got close enough, and Steve’s head jerked around, glowering warily.

“...you came back,” he said.

“...you want me to stay, right,” Billy said, cutting straight to the chase. “You gave me these because you want me to stay.” Steve frowned back at him, and Billy’s heart sank. “Answer,” he said, his throat closing around the word.

“It’s what you wanted, isn’t it,” Steve said, reaching out, but he just grabbed Billy’s board before he could drift into the rip tide again. “You wanted to stay.” He was tense, and he wouldn’t meet Billy’s eyes.

“What do you want,” Billy asked again. “...because I think your friend Robin’s in my house, and she says I guilted you into it, talking about Max. Do you...if I didn’t need an invite. Would you want me to stay?”

“...I guess,” Steve sighed, and Billy swung his leg over the board, dumping himself straight down in the water, because he was definitely about to make some kind of awful noise, and the sea felt good on his hot, wet cheeks. Steve couldn’t see him crying underwater, he thought, grabbing a jut of rock to keep himself from floating back up.

He wished he could take a few slow breaths, he thought, closing his eyes, and then something brushed his arm. He opened his eyes on Steve’s wide-eyed face, his hair swirling in the water. Billy bit his lips together harder, his hands clenching on the rock, and Steve shook his head, pointing up.

“Up,” he mouthed. “Come on.”

Billy let himself be hauled upwards, and pushed up on the rock again, like when they’d first met.

“What are you doing,” Steve asked, hanging on to Billy’s surfboard.

“Nothing,” Billy said, keeping his voice level. “I thought you wanted me to stay. For me. You can have your invites back. I didn’t—” he took a deep breath, hearing Steve’s voice say stop trying to manipulate me, and Robin’s guilt-tripping. “I fucking know I’m pathetic, okay, you don’t have to pity me. Sorry I—sorry I fucking tried, jesus, I just—” he shut his eyes tightly again, laughing as he imagined Robin’s disgusted look knowing Billy’d gone out and cried.

“Wait, fuck,” Steve whispered, clambering up next to him, where Billy barely fit by himself, since it was high tide. He was warm from the sun, his tanned skin gleaming with water droplets, and Billy salivated, because his dick obviously hadn’t gotten the message it wasn’t wanted. “Wait,” Steve said, half on top of him, his weight grating Billy’s shoulder blades against the rock. Billy didn’t really mind. “You only want to stay if—if I want you, what—what does that mean—” His brown eyes were huge.

“...don’t really know how to be clearer,” Billy told him, unable to pull his eyes from Steve’s mouth.

“You don’t want to stay unless I’m happy about it,” Steve said, grabbing Billy’s hands.

“Yeah, that’s kinda how it gets, when you fall for somebody,” Billy told him, raising his eyebrows, and Steve took a shuddery breath and kissed him again. He didn’t stop, though, he just kissed Billy and kissed him, laughing shakily, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, as Billy clung to him and the rock, trying to keep them from tumbling off. “I want you here, I want you. Stay with me.”

“I’m what you want?” Billy asked, startled, his brain hazy from warm kisses, and the scrape of pointed teeth. “‘M yours then,” he whispered. “All—all of me. S’yours.”

They laid there so long, whispering and giggling, that Billy had tan lines of Steve’s fingers on his shoulder for months.

Here are the other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done!

#Harringrove April #Mermay #Almost #Harringrove #Steve's got a tail #Billy's got a surfboard

51 notes · View notes

ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

two peas in a pod

summary: you and rafe have a peculiar friendship.

warnings: mention of drugs/alcohol and typos. probably.

notes: umm i don’t know why i wrote this but i wanted to read a platonic relationship with rafe

also @socialwriter is responsible for picking out the title ✨

add yourself to my taglist!

“Rafe, I’m not doing that,” you said as you threw the dress down on your bed.

“Come on,” he whined. “I don’t want to with some chick I don’t even like.”

“And that means I have to go with you, why?” Rafe smirked.

“Remember when Kelce pushed you into the water and--”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”

Your friendship with Rafe was a very unlikely one. It hadn’t occurred to him that you were a Pogue until Sarah had made a comment about you working at The Wreck. Upon speaking you for the first time beyond acknowledging your presence in his home, he thought you were undeniably cute and there was no doubt about that. But as you raised your eyebrow and laughed at his pathetic attempt to flirt, Rafe cowered in embarrassment and Topper couldn’t help but find the humor in his best friend being rejected by someone who couldn’t care less about his reputation.

Somehow, the two of you became two peas in a pod despite different upbringings and it would seem that the two of you beat the odds. People were betting left and right on the circumstance; perhaps you two were sleeping together or in a secret relationship, or maybe you two were friends who were pining after one another.

None of the above. You two were just really good friends.

It was the first friendship of its kind but everyone learned to stop questioning it when Rafe threatened to punch a guy who had showed up to a Boneyard kegger, making comments about how you had to be a good lay for Rafe, of all people, to consider a Pogue a friend. Despite any questions or confusion others had, neither of you bothered to entertain them. You two had an honest friendship.

You were almost positive Rafe couldn’t keep a relationship with a woman to save his life given his reputation and apparent hatred towards anyone who was a Pogue but you found his company to be genuine and quite lovely. It helped that he offered to take you on boat rides every once in a while. So when Rafe asked you to be his date, you didn’t have to think twice about saying yes.

“I feel like a fairy threw up on me,” you said, pulling at the long gown that touched the floor.

“Sarah picked it out,” he explained. “I asked her to pick out a dress for you.”

“You knew I’d say yes, didn’t you?” Rafe looked at you with a “duh” expression.

“I’d go with you if you asked me to.”

“I don’t have anywhere fancy to go, moron.” Rafe smiled and sat on the bed in the guest bedroom as you stared at yourself in the body length mirror. “Huh. The more I look at it, the hotter I look.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” the boy teased. “I’m still gonna be the hottest one at the party.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” you said, looking at him through the mirror. You turned around and pushed Rafe out of the room so that you could change and you were quite happy that he didn’t make a joke about wanting to watch.

Your friends were quite reserved for a while. JJ, especially, had many doubts about your blossoming friendship with the Kook because he had a bad relationship with him and you knew it all too well. Part of you felt guilty for entertaining a friendship with Rafe but a positive outcome was convincing the boy that the Pogues weren’t all bad as he had been taught. The reconciliation was gradual. There were feelings of doubt on the Pogue end and Rafe, at first, wasn’t too keen on dropping by The Cut. But you talked his ear off and he decided this game of who’s better than who wasn’t worth it if you were going to yell at him every time he opened his mouth.

Rafe never listened to anyone who said he was whipped, lovesick, or anything of the like. He respected you in a way he hadn’t respected anyone else before. You were the first person he knew who was so confident in themselves that you could embarrass yourself in front of the entire island and brush it off without blushing. You could fall on a surfboard a million times and will yourself to get back up and try again. You could cry in front of him without thinking you looked like an absolute maniac (you sometimes did but Rafe considered your ugly crying a sentiment because you trusted him enough to let him see you like that). Rafe wasn’t following you like a puppy; he genuinely respected the person he saw in front of him.

You pulled him out of some bad habits he had begun to develop. You made it clear that you were not going to be the person he could rely on if he wanted to be fixed because that wasn’t your job and it never would be. You never wanted to put yourself in a position where you could get hurt and despite Rafe being out of his mind, he respected it. But you cared and came to his beckoning when he asked you to pick him up and three in the morning from a random house party when he caved to his vices. You let him cry on your shoulder when he had an argument with his father. You pulled the red solo cup away from his mouth and let him be angry at your mothering gesture. When he had yelled at you the first time upon you seeing a cloud of white dust on his nose, you hadn’t begged him to stop raising his voice nor tried to call him down. You met his rage and told him you were not fixing him and losing what he had for a little high will never be enough to fill his personal empty void and that his pathetic attempt to cope was going to end up hurting him more than he thinks.

Rafe listened. He learned it the hard way when you wouldn’t open your door after he had come drunk and high out of his mind, begging for a little comfort.

“I told you this wouldn’t end well for you,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said, “I’m freezing and so just want your company.”

“I told you I wouldn’t be your crutch if you decide to get cross faded. I’m not here to serve you, Rafe. This is the third time you’ve come to my house and I’m not letting you in because drugs and alcohol are dangerous, especially in the state you’re in.”

Rafe was angry. “You don’t know shit about what I’m doing through, Y/N.” You raised your eyebrow.

“I don’t need to know shit to tell you you’re ruining your life. But have fun making this choice and savor all you have before you lose it.” He was quiet. You disappeared briefly before tossing him a sweatshirt.

“What’s this for?”

“Wear it,” you said. “It’s cold outside. Give it back to me when you’re sober.”

You closed the door and watched as he sat outside your porch. You weren’t evil — you called Topper and asked him to drive Rafe back to his side of the island and waited until he arrived before you went to sleep. Rafe had given up on being awake and passed out cold on the bench beside your door with the sweatshirt you gave him and you thanked Topper for helping you out, promising to bake him your infamous peach cobbler for the next time you’d see him.

When Rafe came to his senses a few days after, he swore off drugs and came back to your doorstep with the sweatshirt cleaned and folded neatly, asking you to forgive him. You only smiled and told him you’d support him through whatever he needed as long as he tried to stay sober.

You kept your word. When he talked about how he was craving another high, you’d distract him by suggesting a movie marathon or cooking together. When he felt anger bubble inside of him, you’d force him to listen to calming music in an attempt to slow his heart rate. Rafe never verbally said it, but all of these small tricks were helping him in a way he hadn’t considered before. But he didn’t need to say thank you yet; you knew it by the look he’d give you when you left his house. His eyes were back to that bright blue and his mouth never seemed to stop smiling.

So seeing him in that baby blue suit that complemented your dress made you smile. He was slick and ready, smiling like tonight was going to be the best night of his life. There was no reason, no drug nor any mishap. There was just him feeling excited about spending time with his friends and getting to experience his life without feeling like he needed his vices to get him through the night.

And it was all thanks to you.

***

taglist:

@princessdolan @ashyramblings-ficrecs @fanficscuziranout @caswinchester2000 @jellyfishbeansontoast @simonsbluee @karleeluv @briannarto @pogue-h @hyluas @angelic-ashleyaileen @mfmaddyperez @sspidermanss @outerbankslove @bxbyyyjocelyn @jjsbxtch @rudethchalamet @srirachibi @shawnssongs @shoppingcarthappiness @calumbroutledge @jayjaymaebank @goldenpogue @harrysbbby @copper-boom @void-maybank @rudys-pankow @x-lulu @rudyypankow @serrendipiity.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurbs #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey blurbs #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey imagines #obx #obx x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #my writing #rafe cameron

520 notes · View notes

male-reader-requests · 4 years

Text

Light Night Love

Requested by: Me

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x M!Reader

Word Count: 1785 words

Warnings: It's soft, implies some sexual stuff but it's never stated. There's basically no dialogue so sorry, and I haven't slept in like 48 hours so sorry if it's bad. Also grown up characters!

Shoto sighed as he turned over in bed, looking at the bright digital numbers next to him. It was bordering on 3 in the morning, this was supposed to be his day off, but he couldn't sleep which meant no sleeping in.

He knew why of course. He knew why he was tossing and turning in bed, why he had gotten up more times than he was proud to admit to use the bathroom before getting back in bed with a lightly depressed sigh.

Turning over again he looked at the light trickling in from his partly open door, a vain attempt to draw his husband into laying down for a while. (M/N) had been working himself to the bone lately, and Shoto understood why, truly he did, but he missed him.

(M/N) worked as a first response coordinator for a few different agencies but he was also Shoto's manager and secretary. Unfortunately, this meant that they'd been hit with a lot of ridicule when it came to light that they'd been since their first year in high school and married for 5 of the years out. People didn't think they'd be able to stay professional but was a bit impossible not to be when they only saw each other at home.

And now the two of them were home, were going to be for the next 72 hours or so, and (M/N) was still working.

With a sigh that rivaled his old homeroom teacher the half and half male forced himself out of bed to pull on a pair of sweat pants before wandering out to look in the kitchen. (M/N) was a man of habit, doing the same thing pretty much every day, which meant that he was either already in the kitchen or would be soon to get a cup of coffee.

The first time Shoto had spent a prolonged period of time with (M/N) he'd gotten concerned over the amount of caffeine he'd put in his system, but it was to be expected with a quirk like his.

(M/N)'s quirk was generally called "Sleepless". He didn't sleep, he didn't need it, in fact, he couldn't sleep. He could fall unconscious, he could pass out, he could faint, but he couldn't sleep. The issue about this though was that while he didn't need to sleep he still needed rest, needed to stay calm for a period of time so his muscled could relax and his mind could settle. He hadn't done that in a few days.

True to habits though when Shoto found his way to the kitchen (M/N) was already there. He looked like hell to be kind about it, and the sight made him sad. (M/N) was dressed in a long sleeve shirt that was probably Shoto's, a pair of sleep shorts that had probably been marketed to women more than men, and mismatched socks. His skin was paler than normal, unhealthy and his eyes looked sunken in, the large bags under them not helping and his hair was a greasy, tangled mess pushed back by a pair of bulky headphones.

He seemed happy though, Shoto noted. He was swaying, dancing with slight jerky movements that screamed of exhaustion to whatever was blaring through his headphones. This meant that he was done, or at least almost done, but since he was pouring coffee into a cup Shoto would guess it would be a few more hours at least.

Leaning against the wall behind him Shoto watched as the smaller male moved around the kitchen, pulling creamer out of the fridge along with a bag of grapes. He ate a few while he stirred in sugar and creamer before putting all of it away. He then grabbed a plum, ate that, then another, and Shoto realized he was getting to the end of his rope.

The longer (M/N) went without giving his body rest the more stuff he needed to keep functioning. The longer he stayed up the more water he had to drink, the more food he needed to eat, the more caffeine he needed to keep his mind in the game. With the way he was puttering around the kitchen Shoto knew he'd been working for more than 72 hours straight then, so he'd started long before he'd even gotten home from work.

A light huff made it from the taller male before he made his way actually into the kitchen. He got close to (M/N), close enough that normally he would have noticed, but he hadn't so when he went to step back he ran into Shoto, tearing a less than dignified yelp from his throat.

Immediately Shoto wrapped his arms around (M/N), one hand gripping the opposite shoulder while the other sunk under his shirt, rubbing at the smaller male's stomach. No matter how much he drank (M/N)'s body didn't like caffeine, it generally gave him a stomach ache, so with how the shorter male practically slumped in his hold, he decided to call it a day.

With gentle fingers, Shoto took the coffee cup and set it on the kitchen island, burying his face is messy hair as he held smaller hands in his own. (M/N) made a light sound of displeasure when the coffee was taken away but Shoto knew it would be fine. He wasn't worried about it being on the counter for long, considering (M/N) would drink day-old coffee without a care in the world when he was busy.

He pulled (M/N) phone out of his pocket, pausing the music he was listening to before setting it next to the coffee and next came the headphones. Large (E/C) eyes blinked up at him, squinting in confusion and Shoto melted on the spot. A light smile found its way to his face as he took (S/K) cheeks into his hands, placing chaste kisses along (M/N)'s hairline, over his eyebrows and eyes, over his nose and cheekbones, and his chin. His face was heating up under his hands, embarrassment and sleep deprivation making him pliable enough that Shoto could pick him up without much complaint.

(M/N) had his legs wrapped loosely around Shoto's waist, hands under his thighs to keep him from falling while his own were digging into the half and half males back in embarrassment. Shoto, feeling pinpricks in his skin finally realized that he was dumb and had forgotten to put a shirt on, which was probably why (M/N) was so embarrassed.

Despite that they'd been together for years now, married for part of it for Christ's sake, (M/N) was always too easy to embarrassed. If anything Shoto would chalk it up to the fact that the (H/C) haired male didn't leave the house very much so he got overwhelmed easily, but that was alright. To him as long as (M/N) was happy he was fine with it.

When they'd gotten back to the bedroom Shoto dropped (M/N) on the bed without much thought before moving to shuck off his sweats again. This is how nights normally went, (M/N) would either already be in bed or Shoto would have to track him down, the smaller putting pajamas on before getting in bed and waiting. Shoto would strip down to just his underwear, he was in excellent control over his quirk but sometimes he still overheated, set an alarm if they needed it before just... laying on top of (M/N), pulling the covers over both of them.

The two of them had found out early that in a relationship where only one of them needed to sleep there was going to be some odd things. Shoto, despite the nightmares of his early childhood, tended to sleep as much as possible, and (M/N) didn't need sleep at all. This had lead to the discovery that if they were to sleep together they needed to figure something out for (M/N) or else he'd get out of bed, and Shoto, asleep or awake, didn't like that at all.

So they'd found out that if Shoto laid on (M/N), like on top of him as in all his weight pushing the other male into the mattress, he'd stay and be calm. This was the closes (M/N) would ever get to actual sleep, it was relaxation and just pure affection thrown into a human weighted blanket.

Shoto had his hands under (M/N) back, rubbing his fingers into his greasy hair without a care in the world. Very early into their relationship Shoto had gotten over the greasy hair thing. Yeah, it was kinda gross, but he didn't mind, it made (M/N) calm down so it was worth the gross residue.

They laid like this for who knows how long, Shoto altering between rubbing at (M/N) scalp and lightly scratching it with blunt nails. His arms were starting to fall asleep though, the entirety of both his and (M/N)'s weight starting to cut off his circulation. He wouldn't move though, he'd been through worse. He was willing to sacrifice a bit of his comfort for (M/N)'s happiness.

After a while though (M/N)'s hand found their way to Shoto's hair, tangling into the two-toned locks, and Shoto let out a breath he'd basically been holding the entire time.

It took (M/N) a long time to calm down, his brain didn't shut off so it was hard for him to relax, but the second those fingers found his hair he knew he'd done his job right. His lips found their way to (S/C) skin on (M/N)'s neck, soft and gentle and he knew it wouldn't lead anywhere, (M/N)'s body was too tired to do anything let alone have sex.

So Shoto laid there, his lips brushing against skin as he whispered into the night.

"I love you," (M/N) said, the first thing Shoto had heard him say probably 2 days. (M/N) was pressing kisses to his shoulder, sleepy and slow despite that their owner wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

"I love you too", Shoto whispered, as he was right next to (M/N)'s ear, and he finally let himself start to drift off, his dreams a black void except for the warmth he felt below him.

#anime #bnha #mha #mha todoroki #bnha shoto todoroki #todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki x male reader #x male reader #fluff

142 notes · View notes

thatwirddemonhunter · 3 years

Text

Bager in the Light, by Lucifer Buitrago part 1

Tage Hopp was not a particularly religious man, but that morning he thought "maybe there is a god, and I made him mad." He had a badger face! He didn't feel that strange, but he looked strange. He always had a beard and his face was almost always covered in dirt and grime, his long brown hair was still there although a little thicker, the fangs he gained didn't sit very well in his mouth and his hands had long nails or claws, what's the difference? In short, he felt hairier than normal; and hungry. "I should get some food before I fully become a badger," he said.

The weather outside was cold and dark, the sea was roaring loudly and dangerously. The day was like any other at the lighthouse and the tiny island it resided on.It was a small island situated off the coast of Wick, though the men that Tage worked with did not hail from the small fishing town.

The men that he worked with were very loud and annoying. He came to the island to get away from folks like them and instead is put with them, on a secluded hellscape. There were four: Erengisle Laxman,Oren Bloom,Xavier and Kohen Gill. The Gill brothers were the rowdiest in Tage's mind since he shared a room with them. Laxman was the second loudest, though a happy and joys kind of loud, and he was the most knowledgeable on account of his age; though he is more aware of other people then the other three, and always soft spoken when he talked to Tage. Bloom was a large and booming man, and his voice reflected that, always barking orders, speaking with his mouth full of food and yelling when something was not done his way, normally Laxman would intervin and calm him down. The only one Tage liked to be around was Olga, an old russin hound, no one knows where she came from, not even Laxman, but she is vital to running the lighthouse. Why you may ask, and I shall repeat this once more, no one knows. The only reason Tage really stays is if he goes home it will be worse. At least you can reason with a person that is not related to you, well for the most part.

As Tage was thinking this, Bloom came into the room, booming voice and everything. Lucky for him did not see Tage in his badger from due to the curtain dividing the room.

"Hopp, get up! Now!", it was a miracle the twins didn't wake up.

"And wake those two.I got a bone to pick with them" he said

"I'll get to it sir" Tage responded.

"AND-"

"I know what to do sir"

"Watch your mouth young man!"

BOOM, went to the boor as Bloom left the room, as he did every morning.

After sitting still for a little bit, he got up and checked if the other two were awake and not to his surprise they were fast asleep.The Gill brothers came from a large family like Tage, so they could sleep through anything. Sadly,Tage did not learn this trick;instead he had to learn to sleep anywhere quiet and secluded, like the top of the lighthouse. So instead of following Bloom’s orders, Tage left the twins alone and got ready for the day.

Now normally he gets dressed quickly, mostly due to the cold, but with the new fur that had grown overnight it felt like he did not need to dress but did either way. As soon as he finished clothing himself he left the room to do his morning chores. Hopefully with no one seeing him. Laxman was still asleep, and waking him was the first thing he needed to do.

Laxman was a deep sleeper and Tage knew he had to go in and physically move him.That made him have to think through his next move, as no one had seen him yet and he was not too sure that their reaction would be as calm as his.

The plan he concocted involved Olga and some very sneaky hiding since Bloom was already awake. As Tag went out, he took off his shoes to make his step much quieter.Once outside, he went looking for Olga, and it did not take him long. Tag had thought that she would growl and snarl at his new looks, but he had worried for nothing, she knew him immediately. Tag loved Olga’s company, he had promised that once he got a better job that he would take Olga with him but always got stopped by the old geezers, Laxman and Bloom.Mostly Laxman. Always Laxman, Bloom just stood there looking menacing.

As he got Olga through the house and toLaxmans door he got her level."Now listen Olga, I need you to do something for me" he said at the derpy borzoi."You're going into Laxman's room, and jump on him, got it" he got no response but knew by the look in her eyes she understood the plan.Tage let Olga in the room through a sliver of the door opening then closed and waited. Not for long though, as he heard a very loud but happy "OLGA?!".

After that, he went to check the chores list and in big booming letters after his name "WAKE XAVIER AND KOHEN" followed by a small polite "please". Now there's no point in avoiding it, Bloom was probably mad now and for the next couple of days too. Seeing this made Tage realize that Bloom might of unitentiely woke them and he had to go back either way to get his tools for the fog horn.Now this time there was no Olga to send in. He went back to his room to see if the Twins were awake and as he neared the door he heard them.

"Where do you think that little imp went, any who?" said Xavier, with his gruff voice.

"I don't know, but when I see him, he going to get an earful, he is!" Kohen said, clearly angry.

The Twins were from Leeds and never spoke proper English, Bloom didn’t either but that was because he spoke Yiddish and Laxman claims he hails from Bristol but his Scottish accent betrays him.The Twins were from Leeds and never spoke a proper English, Bloom didn't either but that was because he spoke Yiddish and Laxman claims he hails from Bristol but his Scottish accent betrayed him. Tage was the odd one out with his "proper London '' as Xavier called his accent; and because of it the brothers push him around, making him out to be a weak noble or something and Bloom belittles him with every word.

Hearing them made Tage want to throw them off the light, straight into the water, maybe the sirens will get them, after this morning anything is possible. But why was he thinking that he's got a job to do, just ignore them. Tage went in without thinking, got his coat and tools and left. He just marched out, ignoring everything and went to fix the horn.

After an hour or so he heard some barking and turned to see Olga with Erengisle Laxman, staring at him with a mix of shock, confusion and a little bit of fear. Olga was just happy to see him, and she came to him looking for treats as always. Seeing her come up to Tage made Laxman snap out of his shock.

“H-hey Tage, can we talk to you?” the terrified voice of Laxman followed. No one had seen him all morning in his new badger for, with the exception of Olga, but she made no fuss about his looks. Laxman was being cautious around him but Tage assumed it was because of the badger face. He sat next to Tage and started to speak again.

"So... it is Tage under there... still, right?" he asked

"Yeah. Just harrier." an awkward silence followed.

"This isn’t the first time appears with an..." he jesters to Tages head "an creater of sorts."

"I'm having a hard time believing that Eren."

"No really, where do you think Olga came from?"

"WHAT?" Tage yelled.

“No no no no no, I've realized that was a bad joke. Sit back down lad.” he said to Tage making the motion to sit back. Tage had a feeling that this was his way of coping with the fact his co-worker had the features of a badger. Olga just rested her head on Tages lap.

#if this sounds familiar #Congratulations #you have read the horrific story that is Metamorphosis #and if not #go read it you uncultured swine

13 notes · View notes

kibybun · 4 years

Text

Animal crossing au!

Yandere Hawks x reader headcanons

Tw: Yandere, stalking, murder

Enjoy!

🍑You were over everything. You parents had kicked you, you had just found out your boyfriend was cheating on you with your bestfriend, and your job had just let you go. You were so over it.

🍑You storm to your small apartment to see a tiny piece of paper attached to the door. Eviction Notice. Great.

🍑You slam the door shut and go to pack your things. You were tired of living here and needed a new face with new faces. Luckily you saw an add about a special get away package.

🍑You make it to the airport and thankfully your tears were dried. Upon arriving you see two cute little kids who had raccoon quirks.

🍑They ask you many questions but you didnt mind, it helped you calm down.

🍑You answer all of the questions then you're escorted to a boat. There you meet Kapp'n. He was an old man with an odd mutation quirk but he was really friendly and even sang songs for you and the twins.

🍑You bid Kapp'n goodbye and step onto the docks. There you see a little blue goat named Sherb and a hollow bunny named Coco.

🍑You get to know them more as Timmy and Tommy lead you to a plaza where you meet Tom Nook. He also had a Raccoon quirk.

🍑He explains some stuff about the island and how it's your guy's job to make it a home. He hands you tents and off your journey begins.

🍑You set your tent up by the water and help Sherb and Coco set their's up close to yours. You then help them collect peaches and sticks for Tom.

🍑The sunsets and the campfire is lit. You enjoy your peach juice and help come up with the island name. You already feel so at peace.

🍑You retire for the night and when you wake in the morning Tom Nook asks you to be the Resident Representative. You accept excited to help everyone out. And so your work begins.

🍑You happily pluck all the weeds, help build the stores, build unforgettable bonds with your villagers, and help form the island in your view.

🍑Today you were planting some coconut trees when you saw something in the sky. It was red so you didnt think twice before hitting it with your slingshot. You were very shocked when a man with wings fell to the ground.

🍑He looks at you confused as you apologize profusely. He probably didnt know it was you who knocked him out of the sky.

🍑You introduce yourself and so does he. You're shocked to find out that he was the number two hero who disappeared a few years ago. Either way that doesnt stop you from offering him an island tour.

🍑He seems happy that you dont pester him more about his old career as you show off your island. You hadn't had anyone visit your island so you were excited to see his thoughts about your decor and favorite spots.

🍑You even introduce him to your villagers though, something seemed off by the way he watched you so intently as you interacted with them. It was like he was angry but hid it so well.

🍑You quickly move on and he stops you in front of your orchard. He asks about your native fruit and you say you have peaches and that you're missing pears.

🍑He happily offers to bring you pears in a week or so and you accept hesitantly. This was your island and you wanted to build it all by yourself but you know that it would be really hard to find pears for free.

🍑The sun begins to set and you bid Keigo farwell, being left with an unsettling feeling.

🍑For the next week you felt like you were constantly being watched. Even when you knew for sure your villagers were away from you. It bothered you so you started doing more work at night and staying inside during the day. Your villagers were obviously confused but they simply thought you were sick, sending you medicine, gifts, and get well soon cards.

🍑One night, a week exactly since you met Keigo, you see his vibrant red wings in the sky. You didnt shoot him with a sling shot this time.

🍑Once he lands he happily hands you a box of pears. You take them and ask why he's up so late. He claims that it was really hot on his island and that he had a feeling that you were awake.

🍑You brush past the weird feeling that was brewing in your gut and try to start conversation with Keigo. Everytime you spoke he watched you so intently and was too eager to reply back.

🍑After an hour or so you try to convince him to leave. He was rather reluctant but left nonetheless.

🍑Slowly, overtime it seemed your villagers were avoiding you. You were definitely hurt but you could understand how they feel. You've been hanging out with someone else and it probably seemed like you were avoiding them. You try and apologize but they seemed annoyed that you tried. You settle for sending letters.

🍑At the same time Keigo's visits grew more frequent and lasted longer and longer. It also got harder to try to get him to leave.

🍑You and him were sitting and watching the ocean around 11pm when he asked if he could move to your island. You were shocked and confused. He had his own island.

🍑You decline. You wanted privacy and frankly you were seeing so much of him lately it was tiring. Plus you didnt want to force one of your villagers to love just for him.

🍑He was more than furious that you said no. He stands and starts yelling at you asking why. Did you not want him? Hasn't he been so nice to you? What's wrong with him that you dont want him to live there?

🍑You try to calm him down but he just angrily flies away.

🍑The next morning you wake up to see you have mail. It was from Sherb. It explains that he left and how everyone else was going to leave you. What was odd was how everything was spelled right and grammatically correct.

🍑Either way you fall to the ground and cry. Why? What have you done?

🍑You run and knock on all the doors of your remaining villagers but none of them open their doors for you. Then you see Sherb's empty plot. There, on a sticker, read a new name. Keigo.

🍑You storm over to Tom Nook and ask him what's this all about. He seems startled when you ask but explains how you written a letter to Keigo asking him to live here. Tom slide a paper towards you.

🍑It definitely looked like your hand writing but you can tell the difference.

🍑There was nothing you can do now, he was already moving in. You slump and hide in your house, savoring your last moments of privacy.

🍑You were startled by urgent knocking on your door. You jump up and swing the door open in panic only to see Keigo smiling at you. You were so tempted to slam the door shut.

🍑He eagerly enters your home and plops on the couch. You awkwardly stand and watch him. He notices and pats the spot next to him. When you dont move her angrily stands and pulls you into his grasp.

🍑You endure this, waiting for the perfect opportunity to leave. Once you're free, you run to Dodo Airlines with a spare nookmiles ticket to escape Keigo further.

🍑Once there you have a very pleasant conversation with Wilbur as you sit at the docks of a foreign island. You were later able to sneak back into your house without Keigo finding you.

🍑When you wake up you find a single blue and bloody feather laying upon your pillow. Having a bad feeling about it you leave your house and head to the airport. When you arrive you instantly get chills by how quiet and empty it was. You couldn't find your favorite Dodos from that day on.

🍑Slowly your villagers start to disappear. They didnt leave kind notes either.

🍑Soon after them everyone else was disappearing. First it was Redd, no longer showing up. Then Gulliver. All the people who visit your island had stopped. Then the Able sisters closed their shop one night and it never opened again. You were heartbroken when you saw the Raccoon family and Isabelle nowhere to seen.

🍑You were alone with him.

🍑You tired so hard to escape your little island paradise but everytime you left he found you and brought you back.

🍑You carved any interaction with someone other than him. You missed your villagers and everyone. You just wanted to be held.

🍑And he held you he did.

🍑You didnt want him to hold you but you didnt fight it. He felt real and helped numb the feeling of abandonment you felt from everyone you held dear leaving.

🍑He made so many promises saying he'd never leave you, how he loved you so much, how he'd take such good care of you.

🍑You believed him.

Kiby~💚

#bnha hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo tamaki #mha hawks #my hero academia keigo takami #yandere hawks #hawks x you #boku no hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #bnha keigo #keigo x reader #mha keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere x reader #yandere

217 notes · View notes

jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Double Trouble

Bastien’s foster parents come to meet the twins, and he receives a gift that brings back painful memories...

Word count 2774

A/N You may need a tissue at hand for this one, Bastien is reduced to tears himself. There are a few Greek words here, but I’ve tried to make them obvious or translated immediately afterwards. My favourite was the word for grandmother, which is pronounced ‘ya ya’. You may notice I’ve chickened out from writing a chapter devoted to their wedding - at least for now...

5 Parents, old and new...

‘They’re here – the guards at the gate just rang through’ Bastien announced. Sophia cast an eye around the apartment to check all was spick and span.

‘Does it look right?’ she queried. ‘If it’s too tidy it will look like we’re not taking enough time with the twins, but if it’s untidy it looks like we can’t cope.’ Bastien walked over to her and kissed her forehead.

‘Don’t worry, theà mou’ he soothed ‘Althea will understand. She’s fostered plenty of babies as well as older children. She knows a little disorder isn’t a bad sign’

‘Did you ever get drafted in to looking after any younger ones?’ she asked.

‘One or two, but she never left me alone with them. Being totally responsible for small babies is a task for an adult.’ He went to the door just as a wail started up on the baby monitor. Sophia grimaced.

‘They certainly have a good sense of timing’ she said ‘I’ll go and see who it is and what they need.’

‘I’ll go down and greet our visitors. Don’t be worried about feeding them, they wouldn’t bat an eyelid, but if you want to stay private, stay in the nursery and I’ll check with you.’ He kissed her again and went to greet his foster parents, there to see the twins for the first time.

They lived only a few hours drive away in Greece but said they’d wait until the couple had settled into parenthood. Sophia’s parents had booked their flight from the Channel Islands and would be there the next month. If it hadn’t been for various video calls, her mother might well have demanded that she and Bob move lock stock and barrel to Cordonia, but Sophia had told them they weren’t sure they would be staying in the tiny European country for good. She had received a job offer from Edinburgh and had deferred it until the twins were older, and there was a lot of support at the Palace. They didn’t have to worry about cooking, laundry or cleaning, and Hana had volunteered to help too. She had experience with Savannah’s children, and would most likely go on to help the Queen when she gave birth to the heir.

She went into the nursery to discover that Theo needed a nappy change, and she was in time to get that done before his wailing woke his sister, who was a determined and deep sleeper. Changing him was an easy task compared to his sisters indignation at being messed around.

As she worked, she remembered that the last time she’d seen her own parents was at their wedding. It was a small affair, and her mind went further back to when they’d discussed getting married, some time after Bastien had proposed. They were taking a break at the villa in Greece that Costa and Althea owned, this time entirely on their own. They lay out in the sun after a swim in the clear blue sea.

‘Mum asked me when we’re getting married.’ Sophia said, reaching for a cool drink.

‘Then we should probably set a date’ Bastien replied. ‘That is, if you think we should do it’

‘It’s odd’ she said ‘I like the idea, but we’ve made our commitment to each other already. I don’t need a ceremony to know we intend to be together for the rest of our lives’

‘But perhaps other people have to acknowledge it’ Bastien pointed out ‘Plus it’s better legally, if anything should happen to one of us’

‘I could never understand my friends who started planning their weddings when they were teens’ she had said. ‘My best friend had a scrapbook and she’d collect pictures of dresses, think about venues and colour schemes and so on. I don’t think she cared who she married, and she expected it to happen before she was twenty’

‘How did that turn out?’

‘She did actually find a really nice guy to marry, but she was the original Bridezilla. He got fed up with her tantrums and stood her up at the altar – or in her case, at the beach. In Jamaica. He’d never even got on the plane to go there. Her family and friends had a wonderful holiday, but she spent the whole time crying and cursing him until one of the waiters caught her eye’ Bastien sucked his breath in between his teeth.

‘Did that put you off, theà mou?’

‘Just a little. But my wedding day wasn’t the apex of my expectations. I wanted to find someone to share my life with – and I have’

‘So what do you think we should do? What do you want?’

‘I don’t want a big wedding. A registry office would do – and a minimum of guests. In fact, just you, me and a witness would be enough. But my mother would never forgive me’

‘May I make a suggestion, then?’

‘’Of course, Bas. Fire away’

‘Why don’t we get married in Guernsey? That would please Edith, and it would keep the guest list down. We could always have a reception back here after a short honeymoon’

‘That might work. Wouldn’t Costa and Althea want to come to the wedding though?’

‘Hmmm. They’d understand if I told them we’d want to keep it small’

‘We, Bas? Are you happy with that?’

‘I think the same as you. It’s a formality – a legal piece of paper. It doesn’t compare to what we already have together. I’m happy to do whatever you want’

‘Well aren’t we a pair’ she had laughed ‘The reluctant bride and groom’

‘But enthusiastic lovers’ he joked, and swooped down on her, kissing her and picking her up to carry her inside.

So it was that they travelled to the tiny island where they had a small ceremony at the registry office with a reception at a four star hotel, arranged by her father. Some of his work colleagues attended as many of them had been impromptu Uncles when she was growing up, and a few of her school friends went too. Drake went as Bastien’s best man and representative of the Crown, being the third party in King Brad’s Cordonian marriage. It had been decided that he and Lucy would not attend, to keep the wedding low key. They had a short honeymoon on one of the smaller islands, and on their return King Brad had insisted on a lavish reception party in the Palace Ballroom. He had flown the happy couple back for the occasion in the Royal jet along with Bob and Edith.

After that, they had briefly discussed having children and decided to try as soon as they could, due to their age. Bastien had visited a sperm bank when he had a vasectomy on joining the Guard, and they were advised to try using that whilst waiting for his medical procedure to heal and his count to go up. Despite being told it would most likely take a few tries, the very first treatment worked, and Sophia had to defer taking up a job offer at Edinburgh University.

As she buttoned up Theo’s romper suit she heard the apartment door close and there was the babble of conversation in the main room.

‘You don’t look hungry, little man’ she cooed to the baby ‘Come and meet your pappous and giagià’ She picked him up, peeking into Beatrice’s cot, but she slept soundly. She resolved to come back for her, to keep the twins in synch with their naps. She had barely entered the lounge before Althea had plucked Theo from her arms with cries of delight.

‘Oh, mikros’ little one she gushed ‘I giagiá sou eínai edó’ your grandmother is here ‘Aren’t you such a delicious creature, I could eat you all up’ She turned to her husband ‘See how he looks like his father’ Costa nodded gravely, pursing his lips.

‘He does’ he said shortly, leaning over to appraise the baby. He looked up at Sophia.

‘And here is his mitera’ he smiled, and walked over to kiss her cheek. Althea only had eyes for Theo, rocking him and speaking in rapid Greek. Theo was mesmerised and gazed at her, entranced. ‘You look well, Sophia’ he said ‘I hope our Antras is looking after you and his mikra’

‘He’s very attentive. It’s good to see you, Costa. I hope the journey was okay’

‘It was very quiet – when Althea fell asleep’ he said, dropping his voice to a stage whisper.

‘You think I don’t hear you, old man?’ Althea cried ‘You’re lucky I’m holding our foster grandson. And where is his sister?’

‘I’ll get her’ Sophia said.

‘Let me come with you.’ Costa offered, and she led the way.

‘I’m sorry you can’t stay with us’ Sophia said as they went. ‘As you see, our spare room is occupied.’

‘Don’t worry my dear’ Costa boomed in his deep voice. ‘I know better than anyone how tiring Althea is to have around. We won’t stay long, we have friends to visit in the Capitol.’ As they entered the nursery Beatrice was stirring. Costa made a cooing noise as soon as he saw her.

‘Oh mikros – little princess.’ he clucked ‘Here, come to Pappous.’ and leaned over the cot, tenderly picking her up. Sophia held her breath, not knowing how she would react. She made little squeaking noises as she woke, her eyes opening to an unfamiliar face. She squinted and opened her mouth to protest but the sound of his voice lulled her as he crooned to her. He turned to Sophia.

‘They are both so dark.’ he said, referring to the shock of black hair that both children sported. ‘Your lovely blonde hair has not come through.’

‘It’s only natural.’ she smiled ‘We knew they would probably take after Bastien.’ They returned to the lounge, where Althea declared she would have to split in two in order to make the most of the babies. Costa stood facing her, and they rocked and sang to them together, doing a little dance. Bastien looked over at Sophia, whose face had lit up with joy to see the charming interaction. Theo gazed at his entertainers with fascination while Beatrice made odd little expressions and noises, waving her little starfish fingers randomly.

‘This one is musical, see?’ Althea said ‘She has a sense of rhythm. She will be a great singer or a concert pianist, just you see.’ Costa laughed.

‘Theodore is quiet and stoic like his father. Perhaps he too will be Captain of the Guard’

‘It’s a dangerous job, Pateràs. I wouldn’t wish it on him.’ Bastien commented. At that moment Beatrice decided she’d had enough of being joggled about and started to grizzle.

‘Your little princess needs her materà.’ Costa said, handing her over carefully. She made a face as if she was searching for a nipple.

‘Do you mind…?’ Sophia asked.

‘Go right ahead, I may never have fed one myself, but I would have if I could.’ Althea replied, so Sophia settled down to nurse. Theo remained in Althea’s arms, sucking his fingers and gazing back at her. ‘You need your strength, Sophia, so I brought some food for you.’ Althea sat close to her. ‘I know the palace kitchens cook for you, but I don’t think they make proper Greek food. It’s like medicine – my pastitsio will cure anything, and my moussaka would satisfy a giant.’ She nodded toward Bastien’s broad frame ‘Even our àntras there. How do you think he grew to be such a mountain of a man?’ Bastien rolled his eyes.

‘I think we might have to get a freezer of our own to store all the food Althea brought for us.’ he said drily. She turned toward him.

‘Look in the cooler bag – there’s Greek salad and dolmades and olives, and bread I baked this morning.’ Bastien shook his head, smiling.

‘You shouldn’t have, Althea’ he laughed ‘But it’s very welcome’

Before too long the dining table was set with a Greek feast, and Costa sat with Beatrice resting on his chest, making little circles on her back to bring up any wind, and Bastien had given him a napkin in case of accidents. Sophia sat nursing Theo, and Althea hovered over her with a plate full of finger food.

‘Eat, eat’ Althea urged her ‘The babies will grow fast. Start getting bigger clothes for them, you will see’ Soon it was Bastien holding Beatrice to wind her while Sophia sat at the table to eat, and Althea fussed with plates and food as if she was the host, not her foster son and partner.

At last they had done justice to the food, and Costa was the one to wash the plates while Althea played with Theo.

‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ she said suddenly, addressing Bastien. ‘I brought you something.’

‘Althea…’ he protested, but she had already handed the baby to Sophia and was rummaging in a bag. She brought out a small package and handed it over. Bastien took it curiously, and carefully unwrapped it. It was a small piece of fabric – a flowered pattern with a satin edge. He stared at it for a moment, and Sophia was shocked to see his eyes watering, hand resting on his cheek in shock.

‘Materà.’ he said, choking with emotion, struggling to keep his composure ‘I didn’t know you still had this.’ Althea went to him and put her hand on his arm. He grabbed it and kissed her fingers, tears running down his cheeks.

‘We found it when we cleared out some old boxes. I knew you’d want it.’ Her usual brusque tone was soft and tender.

‘I thought – I thought it was lost’ Bastien choked. Sophia was baffled, and she suddenly found Costa at her elbow, patting her arm. She put her hand on his, looking up in query. He spoke quietly as Bastien covered his face, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

‘It’s from a dress that his mother wore.’ he said in a low tone. ‘He kept it under his pillow until it got lost – we’re not sure exactly when. It’s the only thing that belonged to her that he had.’ Sophia already knew that Bastien had been fostered when his mother had become a drug addict and died tragically when he was a teenager.

Bastien got to his feet and shakily left the room. Costa went on to tell her that Althea had made the keepsake for him and quietly left it in his room when he was a surly and unruly teenager. They had noticed an improvement in his behaviour soon after, even though he had never acknowledged her kind action.

‘Go, he needs you.’ Althea said softly ‘The twins will be fine with us.’ Sophia handed Beatrice to her and got to her feet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sat holding the piece of fabric, tears still silently flowing down his cheeks. She sat next to him and handed him a tissue. He slowly calmed and mopped his eyes, taking a shaky breath.

‘I hated her when I was younger.’ he said hoarsely ‘But later on I realised it was a sickness that changed her, bad people who made her make the wrong choices. She never meant to hurt me.’ He turned the fabric over in his hands. ‘I wish every day she’d been stronger, been around to meet you. Now I feel as if she’s here.’ She took his hand and squeezed it.

‘She’d have been proud of you, I’m sure. I’m only just starting to understand what it’s like being a mother. I know if anyone tried to hurt our babies, I’d go out of my mind.’ He nodded.

‘Not everyone can cope with being a parent, even with the best intentions.’

‘You never had any doubt about whether you’d be a good father?’ she asked gently.

‘Of course I did, but I had Costa and Jackson to emulate’ He blew his nose. ‘And you had good examples, so I never had any doubt about you.’

‘Althea should have been more sensitive.’ Bastien smiled weakly, his eyes red but dry.

‘It’s okay Sophia, it needed to be done. They’re here to look after the twins while I process it’ He took her hand and squeezed it ‘and while you support me. It was a good time to do it’ He got up and held out his hand. ‘Speaking of which, we should get back before they need a nappy change’

‘Something tells me that wouldn’t phase either of them’ she smiled, and rose to embrace him and kiss his cheek.

@sirbeepsalot @katedrakeohd @fluffyfirewhiskey @kingliam2019 @rainbowsinthestorm @camillemontespan @texaskitten30 @bascmve01 @nomadics-stuff

#trr bastien #bastien lykel #Bastien x OC #sophia x bastien #bastien x sophia #double trouble

18 notes · View notes

minourp · 3 years

Text

Mermaid Au

I know I said this would probably be a one off idea but it invaded my dreams the other night so I had to write it out. It ended up being much longer than I expected.

Quick background: Most people avoid the sea because it's dangerous and unexplored. Rey is seen as an outsider because he doesn't stay away. Ty and the trux teamed up before meeting the others (for the same reason though).

~~~

It was a dim night, no moon to illuminate the inky waves. The boat rocked and swayed beneath Rey’s feet, a storm approaching. He hadn’t meant to stay out so late but there was this fascinating coral reef he had been cataloguing and lost track of time. He had hoped he could make it back before the storm arrived but the clouds seemed faster than him.

The wind picked up outside the cabin, salty mist spraying the windows. Rey steered the boat back towards the town. He knew exactly where he was going, he was practically his own compass. But something was fighting the rudder. Of all times for it to break, he thought.

The dark storm clouds began to block out what few stars were visible above. The only light now came from the small boat, though it did little to cut through the encroaching darkness. The waves were higher now, washing over the deck as the boat tilted back and forth. Anything not tied down was rolling around on the floor behind Rey. Fortunately that wasn’t much: It paid to be prepared.

It was a fight to keep the boat straight. Straying from his course now would mean being parallel to the oncoming waves. Being parallel meant capsizing. Capsizing meant… well, you know.

He heard a thunk below the ship. Now normally in a situation like this you pay little attention to “thunks”. It could be a number of things: something heavy fell over in storage, debris hit the underside, etc. However, when the “thunk'' is immediately followed by the boat course correcting itself, you stop and think twice.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Rey kept his focus on leading the boat back to dry land. Or at least he tried. Who wouldn’t be intrigued? Of course he couldn’t leave the wheel now so he was left to speculate.

And speculate he did. He couldn’t have hit a reef, this area was quite deep. Had he hit an animal? But that wouldn’t explain the ship steering itself through the storm. It just didn’t make sense. Rey loved a good mystery.

As if to interrupt his thoughts, the lights of the town dock broke through the rain. Rey quickly pulled up to it and wasted no time hopping out to tie the ship down. As he looked up, he saw a dark shape in the water. It disappeared before he could make it out. He shook his head and went to grab his bag before departing. The others wouldn’t be happy.

Within a couple minutes, Rey arrived back home. “Home” was relative of course, he considered the ocean his home. But for now, this apartment was where he resided with his friends. Speaking of, he hoped they had already gone to bed and wouldn’t notice his late return. He opened the front door.

“Well well well,” greeted a condescending voice. Waldo’s voice.

“Hello,” Rey greeted, stepping fully inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Where were you? We were so worried!” Conner cut in, instantly hovering right next to Rey. Ace also stood nearby, behind Waldo’s chair. So everyone was here.

“Nothing to worry about, I just stayed out later than planned,” he explained, taking off his jacket and boots.

“But the storm!” Conner objected, a clap of thunder punctuating his point and making him jump.

“I made it back safe. I told you, it is fine.”

Rey walked between them and headed for his room. Technically it was a shared room but they’d leave him alone in there.

“Those are dangerous waters.” Waldo’s voice followed him.

Once in, Rey shut the door behind him and turned on the lamp. He set his bag next to his bed and began to unpack. Today's research was the first to come out, the photos being carefully tacked onto his map and the rest filed in its place.

The map was of the local seafloor. Rey had taken to cataloguing and studying the various plant and animal life. Most people in town believed the nearby ocean was dangerous and mysterious but that’s what interested Rey! So much to explore and discover! He knew no one understood.

As he moved on to pull out some of his equipment, there was a soft knock at the door. He looked up as Conner entered slowly, closing the door behind him. A moment of silence passed.

“He’s right, you know.”

“Oh not you too,” Rey sighed, setting down his camera on the nightstand.

“Tonight you were lucky! What if you’re not next time?” Conner said, wringing his hands anxiously.

“I know what I am doing. Today was a fluke,” Rey assured, sitting on his bed to take off his damp socks.

“Well I still think you’re crazy.”

“I am? Conner, you are afraid of pinecones.”

“Everyone’s afraid of pinecones!”

“No one is afraid of pinecones.”

“Well they should be.”

“Goodnight Conner.”

“G’night.”

With that, Rey flicked off the lamp and laid down. He could hear Conner do the same across the room. On the far wall he could see his map, dimly illuminated by Conner’s nightlight. His eyes settled halfway between the new reef and home. Whatever had happened out there, he considered a mystery. And mysteries need solving.

~~~

The next morning, Rey got up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. Careful to not disturb Conner, he changed clothes and exited the room. Once out, he could see Ace in the kitchen. That’s a little… scary.

“Good morning,” he greeted, walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat.

“Hey. I was just making some toast. You want some?” she asked, holding up the bread bag.

“Sure, thank you.”

“Yeah, just don’t tell Waldo. He’s convinced I’ll burn the place down.”

“To be fair, there was that one time--”

“That was an accident! I’m never gonna live that down.”

She facepalmed exaggeratedly, giving Rey a chuckle. He noticed today’s paper on the counter and picked it up, skimming through.

“So… find anything cool yesterday?” Ace asked, waiting for the bread to toast.

Rey paused for a moment. “I was checking out a new reef to the northwest. It’s ecosystem seems quite vibrant in contrast to the one closer by.”

“Probably from not being overfished.”

“Perhaps, but I would like to study it more.”

“You’re going back out there?”

“Well yes, there is… I do not know.” He tried to busy himself with the paper.

“What is it?” Ace pressed, suddenly intrigued.

“Nothing. It was probably nothing.”

“Probably?”

“It was nothing. I am sure of it,” Rey concluded, setting the paper down.

Just then the toaster went off, saving Rey from this conversation. Ace turned and plucked the hot pieces out, dropping them on two plates. She brought both plates to the island and grabbed some butter and jam. She took a seat next to Rey, drawing her plate closer.

They both dressed their toast and ate in silence. It wasn’t long before Conner came out and joined them for breakfast, choosing a plain bagel. With the counter full, he sat on the couch, legs carefully tucked underneath him. Before long, Ace started to rave about her latest project. Eventually Waldo emerged too, groggy as usual.

It wasn't long before it was time for Ace and Waldo to head to work. They both worked at an auto repair shop, owned it in fact. Waldo stopped on his way out and turned to Rey.

“You’re not going out again,” he started.

“Of course not. I am going job searching again like I told you,” Rey answered.

Waldo seemed unconvinced but left anyway. Rey watched him close the door and heard the footsteps fade out.

“You’re going back out, aren’t you?” Conner asked.

“Absolutely.”

~~~

As Rey arrived back at the docks, he could see his small boat still in place. It looked so dingy in this lighting. Still, it had gotten him through so much. He boarded and set his bag down in the cabin. Stuff was still strewn across the floor from last night.

Despite the unruly appearance, everything seemed in good condition. Everything but the rudder. How could he forget? He grabbed a pair of goggles and went to check it out.

He had put on a wetsuit before he left so he simply slipped into the water. He made his way to the back and found… seaweed? It was tangled around the rudder, restricting its movement.

It didn’t make sense. He had made sure to avoid the boat getting too close to shallow areas where this would normally grow, so how did it get here? Maybe it was floating along and just got stuck. That must’ve been it.

As he worked it off the poor rudder, he noticed it was a single length of seaweed. The two ends almost looked like they had been connected together in a loop. Odd. Maybe some kid on a beach had been playing with it before it drifted away. It certainly didn't seem native.

After successfully detangling it, Rey surfaced and climbed back in the boat, taking the plant with him. He didn’t want it getting lodged back in again. He untied the boat and made his way to the cabin to start it up. Moment of truth.

It started like normal and he was off. The small town disappeared behind him as he made his way to the open ocean. There was no evidence of how hostile the sea had been last night.

It wasn’t too long before Rey made it to roughly where he had been yesterday. He stopped the boat and let down the anchor. He stood on the deck, looking out at the open waters. Now what?

Honestly he wasn’t too sure how to proceed. It’s not like he could recreate the scenario. Something was telling him to come out here though. Maybe he should just have a look around. This area was mostly unexplored by him so far, as he normally stuck to more shallow waters.

Rey got out his diving gear and brought it to the deck. He began to put it on when he stopped. He felt like he was being watched. Out in the middle of nowhere though?

To be safe, he took a look around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something dip below the side of the ship. Was he not alone out here? He approached the other side of the deck carefully, looking around. Nothing seemed out of place.

He heard an abrupt squelch and turned around to see the seaweed chunk slide over the side through the scupper. Something had pulled it over, it wasn’t near the edge before.

Rey slowly came back over and called out, “Is anyone there?” He was met with silence. “Hello?”

It’s probably just an animal, he told himself. Nothing to worry about. If it took the seaweed, it’s likely herbivorous, right? Perhaps it was a seal. That would be the first he’s seen around here. He needs to see this!

Rey quickly grabbed his camera and finished putting on his gear. He still couldn’t shake that feeling of being watched. Hopefully that meant it was still in the area. Once done, he sat on the wall and let himself fall backwards.

Now in the warm water, he looked around… and saw nothing. Had he scared it off? Disappointed, he began to rethink his plan. That’s when he noticed movement. Something was on the other side of the boat, its tail just visible beneath the hull. The tail did not resemble any seal Rey knew of. It was thick, pale red, and rubbery. In fact, it looked more like that of a… shark.

Okay, stay calm. Sharks don’t typically attack people unless threatened. Just get out of the water before it approaches you. But… sharks don’t swim vertically like that.

Against every instinct, Rey let himself sink deeper. The tail disappeared behind the hull. In its place was a face. A human face. The other person stared upside down at Rey with wide eyes. Rey froze. There was a person with the animal… shark… thing?

But wait, how was he breathing underwater? He must’ve just ducked under. Rey decided to swim around the short end of the boat and approach him. As he rounded the back of the boat, he saw the man had moved to the far end and was peeking around the side.

Head now above the water, Rey took his mouthpiece out. “Hello there.”

The man had risen to the surface as well, though still around the far end. Whatever creature was with him seemed to have swum around the far side too.

“My name is Rey,” he tried again, approaching very slowly.

The other thought for a moment, then answered, “Ty.” He had a slight accent Rey couldn’t place.

“Nice to meet you Ty,” Rey said, setting his stuff on the deck and hoisting himself up to sit on the edge where there was no railing. “You are welcome aboard if you like.”

“No thanks, I’m in a lot of trouble already.”

“What trouble?” Rey asked, suddenly concerned.

“I’m not supposed to talk to… you guys.”

“Me? Why not? Did Waldo put you up to this?”

“Who?”

“You are serious?” Rey asked. He nodded. “Then who told you not to talk to me?”

“My friends say you are dangerous. I don’t think so though.”

“I’m not dangerous though…”

“And I’m sorry about last night.”

“Last night? What--”

Rey heard something breach behind him and turned to look, seeing an unusually blue dolphin’s tail land back in the water. When he turned around again, Ty was gone. Rey stood up, looking all around.

“Ty? Where did you go?” he called, but to no avail.

Maybe the others were right, he concluded. Being out here is frying my brain.

[1,897 words]

#dinotrux #mermaid #fanfic #debating maybe continuing this or also rewriting the same events but from Ty's pov

8 notes · View notes

mini-moongi · 4 years

Text

For Rent || Jin

Genre: Fluff, angst, comedy(?), Jin x asexual!reader

Warnings: mentions sexy times and multiple funky fresh sex themes but no actual frisky actions cause I ain’t about that,,

Summary: Bts is a line of men who can be rented for various sexual activities. One night, Kim Seokjin hits the jackpot of being rented for a whole month. When he shows up with all of his “gear”, the last thing he expects is to become a live-in fiancé with a girl who isn’t into sex.

This is a Fem!reader

A/N: This was supposed to be a quick oneshot drabble, but it’s 3.6k words..... anyways, Happy Birthday @ahgassok !! this is for you :)

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

Seokjin get’s called into the office after his latest gig. He walks in, still dressed up in a suit and tie because his client requested it, and takes a seat across from his boss.

“Seokjin, you’re really moving up the ladder these days, aren’t you?” His boss smiles warmly at all of the attention Jin has been getting. Seokjin does have to admit though, he wasn’t a popular choice on the roster when he first joined, but that doesn’t quite mean his ranks have been smooth sailing either. “I have very exciting news for you, kid.”

“What is it, Boss?” Seokjin questions. This could go in two very different directions. He was either getting promoted, or he was being sold to a bigger company.

“A client wants to rent you out for a whole month.” The big boss man is beaming to high heavens when he announces it to Seokjin. Jin’s eyes widen at the thought of someone wanting him for a whole month, let alone the sheer thought of how much that costed them was enough to send shivers down his spine.

“...what?” Jin responds as an afterthought. Most people would rent by the hour with him. This was the most common and usual source of income; Clients want a one night with no guilty conscience of the other party, and that was fine. Being rented for a few days or even a week, however, was a big deal within the group. Seokjin hadn’t ever had a client for a whole week, but his much more popular and younger coworkers had. He remembers the story Jungkook told him about being rented out to a sorority group for a week, and then being called back by them for another fun weekend in Miami.

But being rented for a whole month? And it wasn’t an already existing client, it was someone entirely new to him. The Head Honcho gives him a rundown of company manners, and Jin can only nod dumbly as he tries to soak up all of the new information. He receives the client’s list of likes and dislikes, and in a blink of an eye, he finds himself walking back out the way he came.

Taehyung is the first to approach him; it’s the next day when Jin is packing all of his clothes from the company dorms. “I heard the big news, Hyung!” Taehyung exclaims. Out of all of the members, Taehyung was the only one who’d get rented out by the months. People requested odd jobs from him. Once, he got called in to model for a magazine company and then have sex immediately afterwords with the manager. “I’m so proud,” Taehyung feigns a sob-like expression,” My Kim Seokjin is finally getting the kind of work he deserves.”

“How do you do it, Taehyung?” Seokjin continues to fold his clothes neatly into a suitcase. “I don’t even know who I’m going to be spending all of this time with. What if.. what if they turn out to be some secret trafficking network? What if I get thrown into an underground mafia cult?”

“You’ll be fine,” He pats Jin on the shoulder. “Our company holds strict regulations and runs background checks on every client. I do admit, though,” Taehyung lulls his head to one side,” clients like these are always unpredictable.”

A good night’s rest and suddenly he finds himself standing in front of the client’s door. He didn’t really know what kinds of sex toys to pack since their form was answered in the most unconventional way possible. Instead of a list of kinks and turn ons, there were written-in answers, so he only knew that she:

1. really enjoyed baking, but isn’t very good at it. He wasn’t sure if this person had a sweets kink or something, but he wasn’t going to complain about whipped cream foreplay.

2. liked a more domestic approach to love. Want’s to be called Love, Honey, sweetie, baby, etc.

and that was it. Other than her name, age, and birthday, that was it. It did say that she wasn’t a virgin, but maybe she wanted to have the “first time” experience with someone again? Jin decided to pack more normal toys, vibrators, dildos, condoms, and whatnot. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

When it opens, he sees the girl from the profile picture he was given. The reality was closing in on him that he was really going to spend a month with her. “..uh, hello, my name is Kim Seokjin, and I--” He’s caught off guard when she wordlessly takes his hand and gently pulls him inside.

Her home is relatively small, but it’s so minimalistic and clean that it looks like it came straight out of ikea. “Your profile said that you majored in acting, right?” his client asks him, and he’s suddenly scrambling to make a good impression.

“Yeah, I... I was an acting major.” He smiles at her.

She doesn’t say anything else, so he comes up to the kitchen island. Jin watches as she busies herself in the kitchen, making a milk tea of sorts. Your initial impression on him was calm and collected: you seemed neat and organized like your living space. What he notices however, is the way her hands are trembling ever so slightly as she pours the drink into two glasses. He realizes that even as sweet and pretty as she was, there wasn’t a smile. You were biting the inside of your cheek, and trying to take subtle deep breaths.

“Your name is y/n, right?” He waits for you to nod before he continues. “I don’t want to overstep any boundaries here, but,” Jin looks into y/n’s eyes,”....is there something bothering you?”

Immediately, the illusion that y/n worked really hard on started to crumble. All of the composure she had completely left her body in one shaky sigh. “I’m.. I’m so sorry I have to drag you into this.” She slides him one of the drinks as she perches herself on a nearby stool. “I know you’re supposed to be like my sexy fun time man, but I’m ace, so that’s kind of out of the question.” Y/n stares into her cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“....Then why am I here?” Jin wonders aloud. He doesn’t mind the fact that you’re not into intercourse like he is, but then again, doing the do is kind of his job.

“My dad,” y/n swallows the lump forming in her throat. “he’s started bothering me with questions about my love life. I felt bad, being in my late twenties and all, so I told him that I was engaged. Last week, he told me he wanted to meet my fiancé and that he was going to stay here for a few weeks starting next week.”

Jin stares at her in disbelief, what has he gotten himself into? “And you’re telling me that I’m.... I’m the fiancé?”

A dry laugh escapes her lips, and if it weren’t for the absurdity of the situation, Jin would tell her how pretty she was. “Yeah,” She looks at him, finally letting herself take in his features. An oversized hoodie was draped over his large body with black ripped skinny jeans hugging his legs for dear life. There isn’t a hint of anger written on his face, only a comforting (albeit a little shocked) smile. “My dad owns a pretty big company, and he recently had a near death experience. Ever since then, everyone’s been breathing down my neck making sure I was stable in every way possible. And I mean every single fucking way. ”

“Why?” Jin quips. He takes a sip out of her concoction, praying that she didn’t slip him a drug of any sort. Holy shit, it was the best thing he ever came across since discovering Jungkook’s fursona. It takes everything in him to not make some weird howl of pleasure at the utter euphoria his tastebuds were experiencing.

“So, when he inevitably passes,” she grimaces,” I’ll be able to take over. I love my old man, and I was hoping that he could retire before I see him drop dead in the middle of his office one day. He always tells me it’s harder to fall in love after people learn about what position you’re in. Hence this weird must-already-have-a-fiancé rule.” A smile barely ghosts her lips before she takes a sip of her drink,” Sorry; I’ll understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with my soap opera-esque situation.”

He quietly sips his drink, lost in this pool of new information. Surprisingly, he’s been calm this whole entire time. If he’d been thrusted into this situation years ago, he’d have flipped out in a not so good way. Thank god he found his big boy pants before this; he genuinely wanted to help y/n. She seemed to be really considerate, and he wanted to stay. At the very least, she’d probably be able to make a killer margarita with drink skills like these. “Out of the whole line-up, why’d you choose me?”

She’s stunned for a moment before replying,”Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just,” Jin swirls the drink with his straw,” I’m sure I wasn’t the first name to pop up on our page.”

“Oh,” Y/n tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. A light blush sweeps across her cheeks, and she clears her throat. “..Is it weird you somehow fit my ideal type? I guess if I had to pick something, it’d be the way you smile.”

The reply was so simple, and yet it struck a chord with him. Usually when he asks, they say they like his plump lips or his feet, and if he was unlucky enough, they’d tell him he was convenient. Jin chuckles,” Y/n, are you trying to flirt with me? I’m already yours, but knock yourself out, baby.”

The first few days were awkward, to say the least. Jin on the job, but not doing his job, was hard to get used to. He’d often wake up and wonder where he was, only to remember the agreement he made days ago that started it all. This morning was much like the other ones: brief seconds of confusion followed by acceptance. Y/n’s house was nice, but after his conversation, she grew a little distant; the house felt emptier when she didn’t talk to him.

Jin rolls out of his bed, and trudged into the kitchen. This morning, he woke up earlier than her. Deciding that if he was hired to be a fiancé, he was going to be the best damned fiancé that she’d ever have.

That morning was different from your usual mornings. You woke up to a sweet smell lingering in the air. In the early morning haze, you half dress yourself and wander into the kitchen area. The low sizzle of the pan greeted your ears, and Jin’s broad shoulders stood hunched over the stove. He notices your presence, and turns around with a smile, the pan still in his hands.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He says.

“...good morning?” Your brain is still trying to wake up and process what’s happening. “Am I dreaming right now?”

The response is just lighthearted chuckle. “I’ve made pancakes, do you want some?”

You nod without hesitation. The smell had your mouth watering, and the thought of its taste was like music to your ears. He slides a plate in front of you and pulls the syrup from the fridge. You both dig in, savoring the fluffy taste of pancakes.

“You know, I’ve got to ask,” Seokjin starts,” what about the rings? We’re supposed to wear some, right?”

If you weren’t awake earlier, that question really woke your stupor. “oh.” was all that came out of you for a painfully long time. “...So you’re really okay with this?”

“It might be the weirdest job I’ve taken on, but yeah. I’m ready to fuck around if you are--- but not literally, I promise. I know how to keep my dick in my pants.” He laughs.

You’re relieved that he’s actually okay with this. The past few days, you were waiting for your proposition to sink in and see him leave whilst waving around a middle finger in the air. A breath you’ve been holding in finally came out. “Okay, I’ll go get the rings. I’ll be back in a sec.”

When you return, he’s still sitting there at the counter, patiently waiting for you. A part of you wished your past lovers were like this in real life: someone who’s this patient and kind can only be bought, you suppose. You open up the velvet box, revealing the two rings that were a part of your elaborate plan.

“May I?” Seokjin breathes out. You nod and watch him carefully pick up the ring meant for you. He stifles a laugh and clears his throat. “Miss Y/n L/n, will you marry me for like, a month?”

“Yeah,” you smile. He slips the ring onto your finger, feeling the cool metal against your skin. It’s shiny and beautiful; it’s the perfect wedding ring. Of course, you did pick it out yourself and vividly recalling sweating bullets when asked any questions regarding your marriage.

You pick up his ring and giggle a little to yourself; by Monday, you’d have to play the biggest game of pretend in your life. “Mr. Kim Seokjin, will you marry me for a month?” He gasps and fakes a shedded tear.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

------

You go on multiple dates and try to fabricate your story before Monday arrives. He’s much funnier than you anticipated him being, and he’s really good company to be around. “I almost choked Jimin out for not cleaning my fucking dildos. Like, who does that to a guy who lets you borrow them in the first place?”

Your stomach hurts so bad from how much you’re laughing. Shrek 2 is playing, but it’s long forgotten as it turns into background noise. Jin relays his very bad experiences on the job, and his stories are so outlandish that you sometimes question the validity of it. “Are you kidding me? Remind me to never let him borrow my socks. I don’t trust him after everything you’ve told me.”

Jin his desperately holding back his laughter, but the dam breaks soon enough. Monday morning arrives, and exactly at 10 in the morning, the doorbell rings. You make eye contact with Jin,”It’s show time.” You whisper.

You open the door and greet your father. “Y/n! I’ve missed you so much,” he hugs you closer than before, and you can’t help but smile at your dad’s affection.

“Dad, this is my fiancé that I’ve told you about, his name is Kim Seokjin.” You watch as your old man’s face lights up, and he eagerly rushes over to him. Your father takes JIn’s hand in his and shakes it with enthusiasm. “You’ll have plenty of time to say hello.” You giggle.

After you and Jin get your father’s things settled into the guest bedroom, everything starts to sink in a little too well. Earlier you agreed that it’d “be weird if you didn’t sleep in the same bed together” and so, all of Jin’s items moved into your room, sex tools included. “What should we do about dinner? I feel like it might get weird at the table together.” He whisper-yells to you. Fear gripped onto his body,”What if I accidentally talk about Yoongi’s butt plug accident?”

It takes everything in you to not bust out in giggles right there in the guest room. “You’ll be fine, Jin,” You set the last of his things by the bedside table. “Just please, watch your mouth.”

Just as you both suspected, dinner was very awkward. “So, how did you meet my daughter?” Your dad asks as he picks away at his food.

“Oh, uh,” Jin glances over at you. There was no way to really know what you were thinking, but a subtle thumbs up soothed his worries a little. “We met at a mutual friend’s party. Yeah,” he smiles,” It was at Namjoon’s book club celebration when we first met.”

“You should’ve seen it dad. I’d have never thought that book clubs were so wild before,” you absolutely sell it to the big guy. Your elaborate stories and too accurate to be fake details worked.

The rest of dinner went smoothly, in fact, the rest of your dad’s stay was absolutely fucking perfect. Jin was able to use his PG 13 humor (re: dad puns) and fortunately, your dad likes stale jokes. Everything was going great, and you’d even convinced your dad that retirement was a good idea.... that is, until today.

“....but didn’t you say that you met at a book club?”

You looked over at Jin like a deer caught in the headlights. Crap, you just told that you two met online. Jin notices your panicked expression. If this mission fails, Jin will have been royally fucked sideways like a sock puppet. “We first talked online, but we met in person during the book club meeting!!” He stammers out.

The tension built up inside of you faded away, and you make a note to remind yourself to tell Jin how big-brained he is. You don’t really know what’s happened to you and Jin, but all morning there have been slip-up after slip-up after slip-up. (after yet another slip-up.)

Your father isn’t fully convinced though, and you fear that he’s caught on. “...I don’t know if I believe you right now.” uh oh. He squints at the two of you as you both sweat profusely with nervous smiles upon your faces. “Seokjin, why do you want to marry my daughter?”

Jin looks at you, but your dad keeps pressing on. “How can I be sure that you love her, and this isn’t some big ruse to run away with all of our money? I can see that y/n loves you to death, but for some unknown reason,” He stops to cross his arms. “I just feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. I don’t want to have to do a background check on you, so your best bet is to come clean.”

Jin takes a deep breath. “Sir, with all due respect, I think that if we told you how we’d actually met, you wouldn’t take our relationship seriously. I love y/n, I love her absolutely to the moon and back.” Jin grabs your hand firmly in his and gives it a gently squeeze. He looks at you and the soothing words part from his lips. “Even after you fly back home, I plan to spend my life with her, regardless of what you say.”

At this point you’re not sure where he’s going with this. The longer he talks, the more it sounds like the words are directed at you. “The truth is, we aren’t really married.” Jin looks back at your dad, who furrows his brow at the complex lie he was told the past month. “--But if this is what it’s like to be married to y/n, I think it might actually happen.”

“What? Jin I--” You’re unbelievably shocked. He just revealed to your dad that no, sorry pops, your only child isn’t married to a super cool guy. The possibility of actually being married to Jin perplexed you, though. Is this still the actor in him talking, or is he saying the truth?

“Look,” your father sighs,” I don’t know what situation you’ve put yourself in to pretend you’re married, but damn it all to hell if you don’t actually marry this boy.” Your dad breaks out into a grin, signifying that Jin has passed the test. “If you don’t make him my son-in-law, I’ll find a way to do it myself.”

You’re still paralyzed as you watch your dad engulf Seokjin in a hug. Your dad looks happy to have met Seokjin, and vise versa. They get along better than peas in a pod, you realized. When this mission is over though, will you ever see Jin again? Already you’ve begun to miss his laughter. The way he sings in the shower, the way he pushes up his glasses while he’s reading, the way he says I love you; you’re going to miss it. All of it.

Like a final curtain call, the deal is over. You hand Seokjin an envelope containing the cash you owe him for his service. He takes it, and he places it onto his packed suitcase. Your eyes never leave his figure, and you watch as he gets up to be more leveled with you. “Y/n,” He says. “I meant what I said the other day; we may not be married now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t propose in the future.”

“This is your job talking right?” You laugh, but it lacks the usual give of happiness. “Don’t think it’s going to give you a bonus, hot stuff.”

“I’m serious.” He looks at you tenderly,” I actually really like you, you know. Hoseok regularly fucks a big corporate guy, so I have discounts at every Starbucks location if you wanna go out somewhere.” His thumb glides over the ring on your finger, lost in thought for a moment. “Call me a pool noodle and ride me backwards, but I think I’m going to miss you too much to actually leave.”

“...Besides, I think the ring on my finger is stuck so--” he drawls out.

You snort in surprise, giggles bubbling from inside of you. Genuine ones this time. “I was going to miss you too, but I won’t have to if you’re not leaving.”

“I never really planned on it, sweetheart.”

────── ☽. ✧₊∘ ──────

A/N: my brain..... ‘tis empty...

78 notes · View notes

betterthebest · 4 years

Text

Here We Go Again | An MJF Fanfiction

Status: *Not requested* Description: Bella was a teen wrestler working in the Indy circuit until an injury cost her her short career. She and MJF were friends turned lovers, turned strangers and friends again. What happens when she joins AEW to lead a faction with her ex? Will their history jeopardize their rekindled friendship?

A/N: This is an alternate universe (no covid :p) where MJF didn’t earn a spot in the inner circle. Hope you all enjoy my original story!

See also: (Part 1) ___________________________________________

Part 2 October 2020

Max called me out of the blue almost four years to the day we broke up. “I’m coming over, I have a plan.” He hung up before I could say anything. He came over with a plan, a contract, and Tony Khan. “You’re coming to AEW and we’re creating a faction,” Max grinned. “Wait, what?” I looked at him like he was crazy. This was the last thing that I thought would ever happen. “You heard me,” he held out a contract. I took the piece of paper in my hands and looked over at Tony. “Is this a prank?” He laughed. “In two weeks, you’re coming out to Jacksonville. Put in your two weeks if you have a job” Tony said firmly. All three of us went over the plan. Being the leader of the faction is what convinced me to come back. I was apprehensive only cause I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I went to work that night and did as Tony said. The next day Max came back to my house and we wrote out a promo. I had a talent for writing and any time I wrote a promo for myself, people loved it. I only did a few promos during my career since I’ve only been in one major company. We went over what I wrote three times that day.

I had to rehearse for a few days at least to memorize. Two weeks passed and on that Monday, Max and I flew out to Florida. I ended up meeting with everyone I used to work with and it felt amazing. It was like time didn’t even pass with some of them. I ended up staying with Britt and Austin at their place. I didn’t want to intrude on them, but they both insisted I stay instead of paying for hotels. They were always the type of friends I could count on for anything. When Wednesday came, Britt and I drove to the arena. I prepared for the show by saying my promo to Britt to get her opinion. She loved it and said she was excited to hear it tonight. I dressed in black leggings and a black cropped long sleeve shirt. I changed out of my sneakers and borrowed black booties from Anna Jay in the locker room. She suggested I wear them. She’s the type of person that made anyone feel like a close friend. We talked by catering as the show went on. Later that night I met up with Max in the hallway before his match with Jericho. “You ready?” He said excitedly, trying to hype me up. “I’m nervous, but I’m ready.” Millions of people were about to watch me live. The most I’ve talked to was an auditorium of 85 people. “You got this. Just focus on me, okay.” He placed his hand on my shoulder. He knew more than anyone that my anxiety could get the best of me. I nodded with a smile. “Oh and wear this.” He took a necklace out of his sweatpants pocket. It was the necklace he gave me for our six month anniversary. It had a single diamond on the chain. “You kept it.” I gave it back to him after we broke up. I wore it throughout our relationship, never taking it off until the day we broke up. “I did and I want you to have it back. I know we’re not together anymore, but you are my best friend.” I smiled a those words. He was still my best friend too and to hear him say that, made me so happy. I took the necklace from his hands and put it around my neck. “Looks great” Max said. He had to get ready to go to gorilla. He slipped his sweatpants off and tossed them onto a crate. “See you in 20 minutes,” he winked. I let out a chuckle and watched him walk away. I watched the match on a monitor in the back with a bunch of other people. My cue came when Max was about to hit his finisher. My music from 2016 played through the speakers. No one would recognize it besides Max which was the point. Max was distracted which caused him to lose. I stood on the ramp, arms across my chest. I got a mic from a stage hand. “Hi Maxwell, my love. Surprised to see me?” I paused, smirking. “You know, when I broke your heart...I felt nothing.” I chuckled. We wanted to pretend like our breakup was pure drama. I wanted to be seen just as heartless as his character is portrayed. “But now, looking at you in the ring, you look pathetic. I’m feeling very sorry” I said sarcastically. He stood up, Wardlow holding him up. “I have a proposition for you Maxwell.” I took small steps toward him. With my free hand I pushed my long black hair to my back. “I know you want to join a stable. We’ve worked so well together since we were 16.” I placed my hand over my heart. “Join me Maxwell, we’ll assemble a great team. Be my right hand man, what do you say?” He got a microphone. He pulled away from Wardlow and stepped outside the ropes, a couple feet from me. He leaned on the ropes before gaining his footing and takin a few steps forward. “On one condition.” He held up his finger. I nodded firmly. “We’re 50/50. You don’t control me, and I don’t control you. We both have a say in who is worthy to join. Deal?” He raised his brow at me waiting for my answer. I paused for a moment before answering. “50/50 you say?” He nodded and said yeah, but not into the mic. “You’ve got yourself a deal!” He smirked, “and Bella... Don’t interrupt my match again.” He was now inches from my face, bending slightly to look in my eyes. “You don’t control me,” I smirked. He nodded his head with a smirk of his own. Our foreheads touched. All of a sudden he grabbed the back of my head and went in for a kiss, but faked me out. I didn’t even pucker my lips. I was surprised since we didn’t go over that in our script. He walked away, laughing. Wardlow followed close behind. I turned and watched as he went up the ramp. The camera was behind me, closing in on the shot as that show faded to black.

Once it ended, I went backstage running into Max’s arms. The adrenaline rush felt amazing. “That was awesome, I feel so alive.” He picked me up, spun me then put me back down on my feet. “You were so good. I’m proud of you for getting back in the game.” “All thanks to you.” I smiled. We stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. That faded when I heard Tony’s voice behind me. “Miss promo, that was great!” I turned around to see him and Cody. “Glad you’re here” Cody shook my head. I had to control myself not to absolutely fangirl over him. I used to have a crush on Cody when I was 11. “Thank you. it felt amazing to finally do it after all my practice.” “I’m excited to see what you come up with next week,” Cody said and Tony nodded in agreement. Max put his arm around me, “she has a lot of ideas.” I looked up at him and smiled. He always knew how to make me feel important. He would go out of his way to lift my spirits whenever he could. And for the next few days Tony, Max and I consulted on the weeks to follow. Right now I have a year contract, but if all goes well I can sign more. I wanted that to happen for sure. I didn’t know what else I could do once this was over, but I tried not to think about it. I had to take it a week at a time and next week, I wanted to do something fun for the promo. I planned to find three pictures of Max and I when we were younger. One when we trained, one as close friends, and the last one during our relationship. “He’ll probably kill me, but it’s worth it,” I told Britt. I found the pictures on my phone in a backup folder from my old phones. I deleted a lot off of social media when we broke up. I deleted most of my wrestling pictures in a fit of rage one night. That was one of my regrets in life. It may seem small, but when wrestling is your life, it’s important. I went back home to New York that Thursday night. Max drove me home where I still live with my family. “Wanna come in?” I asked Max before getting in the car. "Your food will get cold before you reach Long Island.” We picked up dinner on the way back. He laughed, “you’ve convinced me.” We got out of the car and got in the house through my separate entrance. We started eating right away, silence fell over us. He looked over at me when he finished. “Bold question,” he said out of the blue. “Go ahead,” I finished chewing my food. He never asked when he had a bold question, so this was odd. “If we were to, you know, would that ruin things?” I swallowed hard. “Um, well it hasn’t ruined things before. We used to, you know at least once a week.” Max chuckled, “fair enough... But then again it took some years.” “But not because of that.” “Right, right.” We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Wanna do it?” He shrugged. My eyes widened, “right now?” Max nodded, “I mean, we can wait.” “Sorry, I’m just shocked.” I let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind,” I said softly. “Are you sure?” “Let’s go,” I stood up. Max stood, his eyes widened this time. “Really?” I walked towards my bed and sat on the edge. “You coming Friedman?” I don’t know what I was thinking. Is this a good idea? Probably not, but I wasn’t thinking with my brain. He most likely wasn’t either. He came over to me and took off his shirt. Seeing him with no shirt and sweats on did things to me. He reached out and grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. “I don’t have abs anymore,” I said softly. He ran his hands up and down my sides, “still perfect.” He bent his head and brushed his lips against mine before locking them together. It felt nice to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around my body and he lifted me a little to push me back on the bed. He broke the kiss, “I missed that.” “Me too,” I smiled. That night was amazing. Memories flooded back. It was like we hadn’t missed a beat. Our bodies just molded together perfectly. We laid in bed, wrapped in blankets. Max held me close, his body heat radiating off on me. He would kiss my shoulder randomly from time to time. I always loved when he did that. “That felt great,” he said for the third time causing me to giggle. “It really did.” He spent the night with me. We went again before falling asleep. I fell asleep right away while in his arms. I will never forget that night.

#mjf #mjf fanfic #mjf imagine #aew imagine #wrestlingfanfiction #here we go again

26 notes · View notes

alpaca-writes · 3 years

Text

Mystics, Chapter 10

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] [chapter five] [chapter six] [chapter seven] [chapter eight] [chapter nine]

Tag list: @myst-in-the-mirror

CW: misgendering of a nb character, creepy/intimate whump, psychological whump, shipwreck mention.

CHAPTER TEN: GEMINI PT II

Charlotte would not hesitate to speak up when she found herself uncomfortable. Usually.

Shortly after Arch had left for their meeting, Charlotte tidied around. She was left to clean up the discarded rompers around the living room and as she repacked on of the many clothing store bags she had brought home, there was a knock at the front door. She opened it, expecting a politician to be making their rounds or a band group from the high school to be asking for donations. Instead, she found Lyrem, smiling back at her with his unique charm. He was a bit red in the face, possibly from spending too much time in the sun.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, already finding herself with a sickening feeling in her stomach from being near this unholy man.

“Looking for Arch, of course,” he replied, “Are they around?”

Charlotte paused, looking for any sign that the man might be joking with her.

“No, Lyrem. They left a half hour ago to meet with you at Mystics,” She said unamused. “… Like you had asked them to.”

Lyrem lifted a hand to his mouth, realizing something.

“Oh dear. Oh dear…”

“What?” Charlotte asked, becoming impatient.

“Well, I had sent two messages,” Lyrem pulled out his phone, scrolling through their conversations. “One to say that there was a store meeting, and a second telling Arch that I would come by for a chat instead of-

Oh… It seems that I had forgotten to send it.”

Charlotte huffed, rolling her eyes at the old man. “Go find her then!”

“Them.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, them.” She corrected. “You know I’m getting a little tired of you demanding so much out of them. Who runs a store downtown past nine o’clock on a Sunday evening, anyway?”

“Someone who is desperate to stay out of a church I suppose.” Lyrem looked up from his phone. “There, I sent them a message to come back.”

“What? Why? Go out and meet them. They’re probably downtown already!” Speaking sense to this old man was becoming more than a chore.

“I would but to walk that far is not something I can manage anymore. Old bones, you know,” He smiled kindly at Charlotte. “Would you mind if I came in for a sit down?”

Sit in your car, she thought.

He was an old-fashioned sort, obviously craving human connection in the oddest of ways. What Arch saw in him as any sort of mentor, she would never understand. Reluctantly, she nodded, leading him through Arch’s sprawling makeshift bedroom and into the small kitchen where sunlight was still peeking through the trees by the window.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be lovely.”

Charlotte couldn’t help but smile patronizingly as she handed his glass to him. Tap water. He set it down on the table in front of him.

“Would you like to hear a story while we wait for Arch to arrive?”

Charlotte leaned against the refrigerator with arms folded. She cocked her head at him. She really didn’t care what he had to say or what stories he wanted to tell.

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Ah, wonderful. I love telling this one.

The year was nineteen seventy-two. I had been travelling Europe for several weeks, however, for what particular reason I ventured out there for, I can no longer recall.” He cleared his throat, sipping the water from the glass on the table, taking his time. “I came upon a lovely town on the Grecian coastline. I had found a little place to stay there and enjoyed my time immensely with the local people. I stayed with a family who offered me a small room of their house for only a few pennies a night, and word eventually got around that I was looking for work in the area, seeing as I was too content living there to leave anytime soon.

It was one cloudy morning when a man woke me from a slumber; said that he had a job for me and would pay me quite well if I dared accomplish the task for him. He was in the delivery trade, you see; he would connect like-minded collectors and clients and deliver the items as a third-party investor that would keep both sides happy.”

Charlotte had already lost all interest in the story, resorting to rub the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes.

“The package he had for me to deliver was none other than a statue of Perseus to be signed to a buyer on a remote island several knots out from shore. It was odd to me that he would not do the deed himself since it seemed simple enough, but alas I was not willing to miss my chance to collect on a decent paycheque.

Out on the water, I followed his map. I took the necessary precautions, found my bearings, and yet being out there for an entire day I still could not find the island that this man had spoken of. It was marked clearly on his papers for me, and so I sailed throughout the sea until dusk, searching for it. In the evening of that fateful night, unwilling to turn back as I was quite stubborn; I had encountered a freak cyclone on the water. A fearsome storm that roiled in the abyss of the deepest parts of the sea. The wind and the rain blew so hard into the boat that it felt like I was being shot with thousands of miniscule ice pellets. I couldn’t see a damned thing out there. Water tornadoes threatened to capsize the boat more than once and left me to drown in the torrential depths of the Mediterranean.

Then, I awoke, washed ashore the next morning. The man who had hired me to take the statue out stood over me as I opened my eyes on the rocks. I didn’t feel as though it was something I should have survived, and yet I did. Content with the job I had done for him he presented me with a large envelope containing over six hundred Drachma, and then he simply went on his way. At the time, it was a tremendous amount of money to me. If I could go back now, I think I would have demanded more for the risk it took to my life.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, thankful that the story had come to its end. But then she couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

“What happened to the statue?”

He lifted his gaze to her. “Hm. What about the statue, dear?” He asked.

“Did it break? Did you lose it, and the boat in the storm?”

He shook his head. “Oh no, no. The statue was delivered.”

“You said you washed ashore after the storm”-

“I had done what he had asked of me,” Lyrem explained, drinking more of the water down. “I came to accept that the statue was more valuable in the bottom of the sea, than on the surface of Earth. That must have been what the man also thought. That is what I believe of many things these days as well. Some things, some people, just belong under the ground.”

Charlotte side-eyed him.

“Right,” she said, checking the time on the oven. It had only been fifteen minutes.

Lyrem checked his pocket watch. It was hidden away beneath his jacket, and he clicked it open checking it briefly before folding it away again. He made a humming sound. If Charlotte was familiar with the Spanish Guitar, she might have recognized the tune as Sevilla- Suite Espanola No. 3 as played by his favoured guitarist, Andrs Segov-

“Where are the hell are they?” Charlotte walked across the small house, and peered out the front door, worriedly. “I don’t see her-them coming up the walk. They should be back by now.”

“I’m sure they are being well taken care of,” Lyrem appeared behind her, causing her to jump in place and flip around.

“But, I, myself, seem to also be running out of time.” Lyrem continued hauntingly, looking past the woman, over her shoulder.

“Did you have something you needed to get back to?” Charlotte inquired. “I’m sure Arch can reschedule a meeting with you.”

“Fortunately,” he sniffed, addressing her once again. “that won’t be necessary. I am exactly where I need to be at this moment.”

With lowering brows, Charlotte backed up, keeping her hand on the doorknob.

“What is wrong, Charlotte?” Lyrem tilted his head, in feigned concern.

She couldn’t stop staring at him, frozen in place- wondering if she was being silly, acting crazy, or just reading all correct the signs that told her to run.

She shook her head, heart pounding. He was merely standing there. Maybe a bit close for comfort, but he wasn’t threatening her. Not outright.

“I- I don’t know…” She answered hesitantly. “But… I don’t think I want you anywhere near me… or my child.”

“Arch will always be safe with me. Of that, I can assure you. As for you, though,” Lyrem admitted, caringly. “You won’t have to worry about me being anywhere near you, at all, ever again.”

Charlotte was backed against the door now, turning the knob to the front door, intent on running out.

“I mean it, Charlotte. You are far too disrespectful to be in my company. And I feel bad for Arch. How they put up with you for so long... well, that requires a modicum of patience that I have never once possessed. Never fear, my dear Charlotte. I am doing this for their sake. It really is better this way.” he explained. “That is why I plan to…”

“’Plan to’ what?” Charlotte asked, fear rising in the tremors of her voice.

“Well, I suppose you’ll see when you open the door,” he rushed his words, ushering her to leave as she wished to do.

Charlotte bolted around. The front door opened to a pool of darkness. There was no light, no sound, no nothing. She had yet to step forward. She didn’t say a word and only stared into the beckoning void

“Just remember to breathe,” she was advised in a whisper from behind.

Then, Lyrem pressed a firm hand against her back. Into the darkness Charlotte was shoved forward, until she was utterly gone- swallowed up into the shadows where the light would never reach her.

Lyrem closed the front door. The light from outside returned as he opened it again- the Labyrinth now missing. Cars drove on past, children rode their bikes, chickadees and jays cheeped in the bushes, and the breezes signaled early summer as the aspens trembled along the boulevard. It was the sound of life.

Still, there was no Arch to be found. Not down the street.

Not yet.

A soft purr sounded by Lyrem’s feet, then he felt the warmth of a cat curling around his ankles. He looked down, and picked Maleficent up to hold her close until she was just beneath his chin. Her long gray fur tickled the side of his face.

“Do you want to be a part of my family too?” He asked, looking down at her sweetly. Maleficent purred on, as Lyrem’s index finger stroked the side of her cheek firmly. “I’m sure we can make room for you.”

#whump #mystics #Mystics by Alpaca #Lyrem #Arch #Alpaca OCs #writing blog #whump writing #creative writing #writing #whumpblr #writeblr #poor charlotte #just when everything seemed to be happy again #she gets tossed to the Labyrinth

5 notes · View notes

bxthharmon · 4 years

Text

Just Friends || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 1299

Warnings: underage drinking / smoking weed

Summary: They’ll only ever be friends. Based off Just Friends By Amy Winehouse

A/N: yh i hv no clue where this angsty shit came from, but whatever. i love amy winehouse. peace out yall

“masterlist”

When will we get The time to be Just friends?

He couldn’t remember a glimpse of life without her. In every memory, even the ones before he met John B, before the Pogues had even entered his mind, before it all went downhill, she was there. In her humorous, charismatic, glory, she’d drag him into all kinds of trouble.

He never stopped her. He encouraged it, enjoying her lack of consequence, just as she enjoyed his willingness. She loved that he would let her get them into trouble, because he wanted to live his life recklessly, and she loved that about him. She loved everything about him.

When he thinks about it, she’s the reason he is who he is. She ignited the rebel in him, the untamed desire for pulling off the most vexatious of deeds. Without her, he’d probably have a good GPA, sensible friends and college plans. But he doesn’t, and while it feels unfair to blame her for that, he wouldn’t have been as happy. Without him, she knows she would have spiralled a long time ago. She was known to the police, sure, but without JJ, she would have been in Juvie a long time ago.

But since the pogues were devised, they’ve missed each other. Sure, they hang out everyday, but it’s never just them. Kie’s always dragging her off for a water fight, Pope’s always exchanging film recommendations and John B’s always getting them caught up in some drama or another.

He wants to hang out with her again, for real.

It's never safe for us

Not even in the evening

'Cause I've been drinking

Not in the morning

When your shit works

It's always dangerous

When everybody's sleeping

And I've been thinking

Can we be alone?

They take the opportunities when the come, because they never know when the moment will arrive again.

It’s another day, and this time, he has a plan. She’ll stay over at the Chateau - she always does, on days like these - and he’ll stay too (he’s not ready to face his father, yet). They’ll share the bed, an act they’ve done ten thousand times before, because, well, they’re friends.

The difference is, this time, they’ll put on a film, and they’ll talk and laugh and it’ll be like they’re twelve again, talking their way through Finding Nemo because they’ve hardly spoken all week and Oh my God, JJ, you’ll never guess what Helena said to Sienna. They’ll spend the next day tired, but happy because they’ve remembered that they’re best friends.

But he forgets his plan, one beer turning into six. She almost has to carry him to the spare bed, because he had the stupid idea of having a blunt as well. She enjoys putting him to bed, the Before he’s even remembered Finding Nemo, she’s telling him she’s sleeping on the pullout couch with Kiara and he’s too inebriated to stop her. She lets him sleep, knowing he’ll be a pain in the ass when morning rolls around, but excited to spend another day with him. He falls asleep to the muffled sound of a giggly conversation between the two girls.

Two nights later, she’s staying at the Chateau again. This time, neither of them have been drinking, and they’re sitting in the spare room, smoking one of his finest hydroponic blunts and talking about politics, pretending they understand more than they do. She’s ranting, talking and talking about something she doesn’t understand, stumbling over her words because the chemicals are starting to alter her coherence. For once, he is silent, because he’s wondering how they’ve gotten so far from where they were, no longer just friends, even if they wanted to be.

She pauses her rant to look at him, the shared adoration unnoticed because there are chemicals clouding their lungs and as far as they’re aware, this is how friends look at each other.

When will we get

The time to be

Just friends?

When will we get

The time to be

Just friends?

He wants to know if she feels it too.

Is it a true rapacious need for her? For their friendship? Or is it a sense of homesickness, because he misses his innocent naivety of simply being a child?

He understands that the world will not stop turning, no matter how much he wants it to. Time doesn’t stop for them, even when they get their precious moments alone. Wishing was never really what he did, but when it came to you, he had one simple wish; let us be.

She wonders, from time to time, if he’ll ever kiss her. He’s her friend, and they have a dynamic that just seems to work but that doesn’t stop the thought from working its way into her mind. Will he kiss me tonight?

He never does.

And, no, I'm not ashamed

But the guilt will kill you

If she don't first

I'll never love you like her

Thought we need to find a time

To just do this shit together

'Fore it gets worse

I want to touch you

But that just hurts

He does though.

It happens once, with the worst timing. They’re drunk, but not drunk enough to make stupid decisions. And this decision, while reckless, isn’t stupid.

He has a girlfriend.

They’ve been together for three weeks, and JJ can’t understand why Y/N is so pissed about it. After a huge argument, they’re finally talking again. She’s pushing away all the pain because he deserves to be happy, and if this girl can do that for him, then so be it.

Until he kisses her.

She kisses back, ignoring the idea that she’s screwing with her own girl code, and finally lets herself feel what she had denied all along. They make it back to the Chateau, and it only really dawns on them in the morning.

She knows he feels terrible, not for sleeping with her, but for doing it while he had a girlfriend. What frustrates her, is his refusal to come clean to the girl. She can feel his guilt just from being around him, and knows it’s tearing him apart. But she also knows that the girl is catching on, and he’s about to get murdered (figuratively, she hopes) by his girlfriend.

When will we get

The time to be

Just, just friends?

When will we get

The time to be

Just friends, just friends?

Him and his girlfriend break up, but he never makes a move again.

She wonders how much the Pogues know, if anything at all.

They continue with their lives, spending less and less time together, the realisation dawning on them that they have never been, and will never be, what the group needs them to be. It will never be platonic, and it never has been. There is never a conscious decision, it just kind of happens. Even when they think hard, they can’t remember the last time they hung out, alone.

When will we get

The time to be

Just friends, just friends?

When will we get

The time to be

Just friends, just friends?

She leaves, a natural ending.

School’s over, and she flies to California to leave a dramatic and beautiful life. He knows she’ll thrive, the fast pace and never ending drama providing a strange sort of comfort to her. She never like the slower pace of the island, and he never blamed her.

He works on odd jobs, staying in touch as each of his friends leave for college or careers.

Whenever they’re asked about high school sweethearts, the answer is the same.

“There was someone,” a sigh, “But nothing really happened. In the end, well, I guess it wouldn’t have worked.”

After all, they were just friends.

#oops #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #jj x you #jj x y/n

68 notes · View notes

rymndsmth · 4 years

Text

ordinary life

a little something for @meadapple, i hope you enjoy it 🥰

a/n: ray’s been acting distant. she’s had enough of it.

The light streaming through the cracked blinds created ribbons across her eyes as the sun rose. She groaned, nuzzling her head under the pillow. Her back arched absentmindedly, reaching for the source of warmth that seemed to pull away over the course of the evening.

Miles stretched across the other side of the bed and all of them were cold. It didn’t surprise her. Mornings had been like this for the better part of their relationship. The nature of his work kept him coming and going at odd hours. But that only occurred when absolutely necessary. Now, it seemed like he could barely stand sharing the same duvet as her, holding her.

She removed the pillow from her head. It made no sense keeping it there since she wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. Her feelings being hurt were more effective in waking her up than any amount of sunlight or endless cups of coffee. With a long exhale, she sat up and rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes.

Once all of her senses returned to her, she realized that the shower was running. The noise offered an odd comfort. At least he was still in the house. Her feet carried her to the kitchen where she put the kettle on. The fabric of one of his few t-shirts grazed the middle of her thigh, and her heart squeezed.

So many happy memories revolved around this one spot. The first time she came over being one of them. God, she was so intimidated just to be in his presence. Ray quickly eradicated that irrational fear by offering her a cup of tea from the same kettle that whistled today. She thought that maybe the moment their fingertips brushed was the one that set everything in motion. That time he cooked her the most delicious eggs benedict was a close contender too.

All of that, the endless kisses, caresses, and moans shared in their kitchen paled in comparison to one memory. Ray had just returned from a particularly difficult task. He sat at the island, looking the most disheveled she’d ever seen him-hair falling into his face, shirt almost entirely unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled to his elbows, the blue cotton dotted in what was unmistakably blood.

“The only thing that keeps me going.” He looked at her. “The only reason I care to fight this fucking hard anymore is because I have you to come home to.”

Tears fell then, just as they did in the present. The two reasons couldn’t be further apart though. Back then it was all eyes bleary from the fullness in her heart, and how he’d made a liar out of her by proving that there was still more room available in her to love him. Now it was the opposite; she felt empty. There was a gaping abyss between them that started with simple silence that quickly evolved into avoidance.

The slim appetite she had diminished, leaving her not even wanting to drink the tea she’d just made. She felt sick to her stomach that this was what she was thinking about the first thing this morning. There was nothing more she wanted than to be in his arms, to be the subject of his gaze and the taste on his lips.

A spark lit in her, the origin of it being the anger, fear, desperation, or desire she felt-or a mixture of them all. It didn’t matter what the catalyst was, the only thing that mattered was that she was tired. Fed up at how they’d gone from heated debates to hmm’s in response. She couldn’t tip toe around whatever the hell was going on anymore.

Ray’s back was to her as she entered the bathroom. He stood unmoving under the shower head, letting the beads of water bounce and traced the lines of his strong body. His head fell back slightly, letting the droplets run through his beard.

She removed his shirt, nearly throwing it onto the floor in her state of heightened emotions. They didn’t get the best of her in that regard, the fabric dropped from her hands as she passed by the hamper on the way to the shower.

The suction released from the door, steam floating out as she stepped in. Ray obviously knew she was in there with him, he probably made her as soon as she crossed the room’s threshold. However, there was no movement on his behalf that gave that away.

Her hands reached out slowly, steadily, fingertips brushing the muscles of his upper back. She flattened her palms against them, feeling their expansions and contractions as he breathed. Still, he remained as he was.

But he didn’t pull away. Her touch navigated around to settle just under his chest. A sigh bypassed her lips as she rested her head between his shoulder blades.

It was impossible for her not to tremble when his hands traveled along her forearms, stroking the soft skin back and forth. She bit her lip, trying to shove away the second wave of tears that threatened to spill. When Ray laced his fingers in hers, she was done for. A small choked sob left her, and once she realized she couldn’t take that back, everything spilled out.

He spun around almost too quickly for her to register. His hands became a cradle, holding her head to his chest. Like all the times she’d broken down in front of him before, he gave her a minute to let out as much as she could before speaking. After her shaking subsided to a mere tremor, he cupped her face and looked down at her.

“What’s wrong, love?” His voice was even, but tinged with concern.

“Are we-” She sniffed. “Are we okay? I mean it’s clear that we aren’t because it’s been so shit between us for weeks now, but I just have to know. Are we going to be okay?”

Ray closed his eyes, jaw ticking twice. Had he not been holding her, he would’ve been pinching the bridge of his nose. It was his go to when he was fed up with himself, but that confused her. Why would he be upset, what did he do?

“I’ve been thinking about something for a while, but I couldn’t find it in me to speak to you about it.” Ray’s thumb swiped across her cheek.

A sharp pain hit her in the chest, mind immediately going left. “Why’s that?”

“Nerves.” He smiled.

At first she thought he was fucking with her. Never in the entire four years that she’d known him, three of those being in a relationship with him, did she know Raymond to get nervous. It was like the earth actually being flat, or the Catholic church not being more shady than the mafia. Impossible.

But then she looked at him, really. He appeared almost to be in pain with the amount of discomfort that was broiling inside of him. She took his hand in hers, and brought it to her lips. An unspoken promise of non judgment.

“I’m done. I don’t want to do what I do anymore.” Ray admitted.

She gasped lightly, but reeled in any further reaction should he misinterpret their meanings.

“I want to be able to take you out to the park, and not have to look over my shoulder for threats. I want to stay in bed with you as long as I want, as long as you can bear looking at this mug, and to be home every night before the sun sets. I want to make you mine in every way possible, get a hideous van and fill it with mini versions of us.” He laughed. “But I can’t do that the way I live now, so I’m done. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t know how you’d feel about that.”

Her head shook, eyes rolling towards the unseeable skies above. She was, unsurprisingly, crying again. Though on this occasion, it was like that time from way before in the kitchen. Here she was once more with a heart so swollen it felt as if it could pop any minute, and yet again faced with the reality that she was a devilishly dishonest woman.

Each time she thought there was no humanly or otherwise way possible that she could love the annoyingly good looking bastard before her, she was proven wrong.

Admittedly, the things he’d spoken of hadn’t occurred to her as a possibility because she figured he’d be Mickey’s right hand until the wheels fell off. His job, the influence it had, all the nice shit it provided for her it didn’t matter. None of it mattered as long as she had him.

“The way I feel about that is,” She bit her lip. “How soon can we start on that mini versions of us bit?”

Ray hoisted her into his arms, making her shriek giddily. He backed her against the tiled wall, peppering her neck with kisses. His teeth grazed her collarbone before his mouth came to hover just a hair away from hers.

“I can’t wait to have a normal, boring life with you.”

#raymond smith x reader #ray smith x reader #the gentlemen #charlie hunnam #raymond smith #fics.n

141 notes · View notes