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doctenwho · 3 years

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Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too!

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10 #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #dw #TARDIS #ten #writing prompt #writing requests #fanfiction #fanfic

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jayeray-hq · 4 years

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How He Shows You Affection: Tsukishima Kei

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: None All Fluff!

How He Shows You Affection Master List - Character Masterlist

This was requested by an anon who asked for both Tsukishima and Kita Shinsuke! I hope you like it anon. I have to admit I’m not the biggest fan of Tsukishima, but I hope I did him justice! 😭🥺, also huge thank you to @haikyuu-addict for beta reading for me you’re amazing!

He Teases You

You grimaced slightly as you stared up at the mug on the highest shelf of the cabinet pushed all the way to the back. It was going to be an incredible hassle to reach it, and a part of you wondered briefly if it would even be worth it to try. After all you had plenty of other mugs in your kitchen. It was just, that happened to be your favorite mug, it had actually been a gag gift from your boyfriend, and read ‘you’re my favorite pain in the ass’ written in his neat precise calligraphy.

However, to his shock you actually loved the mug, mostly because it was the absolute perfect size to make your favorite hot beverage in, something he’d later been smugly satisfied about as if that had been the intention all along even if you both knew it wasn’t. You’d been craving your favorite drink all day, and had been set to make yourself a nice hot cup when you’d gotten home from work, only to open up the cabinets and find your mug completely out of reach.

Staring at it you had to wonder if he’d done it on purpose. It was honestly a toss-up with Tsukishima, sometimes he did things like this just because he thought it was funny to watch you struggle, and other times he just genuinely forgot that if he put things on the very top shelves you wouldn’t be able to reach without some form of aid. Usually you’d simply ask him to get it for you, even if he would spend a good deal of time teasing you about it, he never actually said no, and you’d learned to put up with the teasing after years of knowing him and being in a relationship with him.

Unfortunately, Tsukishima wasn’t home yet, still at practice with the Sendai Frogs, which meant you were on your own. You considered going to get the step stool that was tucked away neatly in the hall closet, which was for these exact kinds of situations, but in the end decided you were too lazy to walk over and get it and decided to climb up on to the counter instead.

You were a bit precariously balanced, but you figured it would be fine as you leaned into the cupboard, your fingers scrabbling for the handle of the mug that was just barely out of your reach.

“Oya what’s this?”

You’d been so caught up in your quest that you hadn’t heard the door open or you boyfriend’s arrival into the kitchen. His words startled you enough to make you jolt slightly, making you lose your balance a bit, one of your arms pinwheeling to keep you from slipping backwards off the counter. Luckily Tsukishima had always had incredibly quick reflexes, and he immediately stepped forward, his hands finding your waist and steadying you easily.

“Clumsy,” he scolded, clear disapproval on his face as he gently tugged you backwards and helped you set your feet firmly back on to the floor, “Just what are you trying to do shortcake?”

“I was trying to get my mug,” you told him with a huff, even as some of the annoyance you felt for him startling you faded away with the familiar nickname, one that was part teasing you for being shorter than him, and another part fondness after his favorite food, though it didn’t keep you from pouting at him as you explained, “Someone put it up where I can’t reach it.”

“Oh?” he asked a teasing grin curling his lips, making his golden eyes glint in amusement, as he moved over to where you had been, easily plucking the mug from its resting place without even needing to stand on his toes to reach it before turning to you and asking smugly, “You mean this mug?”

“Yes, that mug,” you told him holding your hand out for it, fully expecting him to hand it over.

“I don’t know if I should give it to you,” he told you with a wicked grin, “After all you nearly broke your neck trying to get it, and didn’t even greet me properly when I got home I don’t think that kind of behavior deserves a reward.”

“Kei,” you whined at him reaching for it, only to have him hold it up out of your reach, high above your head, “I need it.”

He didn’t relent to your whining, only smirked in clear amusement as you stood on your toes trying to reach before eventually giving up.

“Mean,” you informed him with a huff.

“Calling me mean,” he goaded lightly, “And after I saved you from tumbling off the counter too. Maybe you should try asking nicely instead of just trying to take it from me hmm?”

You huffed a sigh, unable to help the slight amusement that curled your lips, well used to his teasing and with a pretty good idea of what he wanted, the same thing he always wanted when he teased you like this.

You stepped forward into his space and wrapped your arms around his neck and tilting your face upwards. He met you partway, his lips warm and soft against your own, even as they curled upwards clearly pleased.

“Please can I have my mug Kei?” you murmured against his lips nuzzling your nose affectionately against his.

He heaved a sigh as if completely put out by your request, but relented, passing the mug over to you, “Alright shortcake, but only this once and only because you asked so nicely.”

You giggled at that, both of you well aware he didn’t mean it in the slightest as you stepped away humming happily about finally being able to get the drink you craved. You made enough for the both of you, feeling warm under the amused, fond gaze of your boyfriend.

He Flicks/Pokes You in the Forehead

You frowned in consternation, your arms crossed across your chest as you tried to make your decision glancing back and forth between the two choices in front of you, running your fingers over the fine material, and eyeing the pretty patterns. You couldn’t make up your mind about which to buy, and couldn’t help fretting about it.

“Ouch!” you yipped in surprise your hands automatically dropping the scarves back on to the table and coming up to press to your forehead as you shot an indignant wounded look at your boyfriend who’d just flicked you right in the center of your forehead.

“Kei,” you whined at him unhappily gently rubbing the abused spot, “What was that for?”

“You’re worrying too much,” he informed you bluntly, a bored drawl to his voice, “Just pick one already.”

“I just want her to like it,” you told him with a slight pout eyeing the scarves again, “Why don’t you choose if you think it’s so easy?”

“My mother already loves you,” he informed you with a sigh, “So she’ll love whatever you get for her, because it’s from you.”

“Even if that’s true, I still want her to like it and be able to wear it,” you informed him obstinately, as you picked up the two pretty scarves you’d been eying again and held them out toward him, “And you could try being a little more helpful Kei, she’s your mom after all, shouldn’t you know her best? Why don’t you pick?”

Your boyfriend heaved a sigh that was half annoyance half exasperated fondness as he looked at you and drawled, “Weren’t you the one who said you could do it without my help earlier?”

You flushed at that. It was the truth after all, your boyfriend had been playfully teasing you earlier about getting his mother’s birthday gift for her, and purposefully wound you up to the point that you’d blurted out that you’d pick out and pay for the gift yourself and it would serve him right if you didn’t even bother to put his name on it.

As per usual he’d been deeply amused by this, and had insisted on accompanying you to go on your expedition to find the perfect gift. Unfortunately, it had been incredibly slow going, as while you did like his mother a lot, the woman was nothing but kind and welcoming whenever you saw her, you didn’t actually know her all that well. It was only pure luck that you’d remembered she had complimented your scarf the last time you were there and had vaguely mentioned wanting something like that for her own.

“Don’t frown so much you’ll get wrinkles,” your boyfriend told you gently poking you in the forehead, in a slightly softer version of the flick he’d used earlier. It was something he’d been doing since the two of you had started dating, gently flicking or poking your forehead whenever he needed to catch your attention or whenever he thought you were frowning too much.

He always teased that you were going to get wrinkles, or that if you continued to try to think so hard your brain would melt out of your ears. It never failed to distract you from whatever was worrying you, or upsetting you and he knew it. It was honestly probably the whole reason he did it in the first place, his own way of showing concern and taking care of you, that was rather cute, not that you’d ever tell him that.

“Go with the blue,” he told you tapping his finger against your forehead and pulling your from your thoughts, heaving a sigh as if incredibly put upon as he explained, “It’s her favorite color.”

“Thanks Kei,” you told him with a grin, unable to help yourself, in the face of his affection.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off with an amused smirk, “Just don’t forget to put my name on it too.”

You huffed a laugh at that but agreed, feeling pleased both with your gift and with your boyfriend, who really was sweet, even if he went out of his way to hide it.

He Seeks Out Your Company

You sighed quietly to yourself as you looked over your project. You weren’t quite finished with it yet, but you felt like you’d made good progress on it in the last hour or so. Feeling rather pleased with yourself, you stretched lazily, letting your eyes flick over the room, taking it in. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your lips as you saw your boyfriend sitting in the arm chair next to you.

He was fast asleep, his eyes closed and his head tilted back, his arms folded across his chest as he snoozed away. You could hear the faint, tinny sound of music from the headphones in his ears, clearly still playing something despite the wearer clearly no longer paying attention. It didn’t look at all comfortable, especially since he still had his glasses on, and his neck was at an odd angle resting on the back of the chair.

You couldn’t help the warm feeling that surged through you as you looked at him though. Tsukishima was a bit of an introvert by nature, despite how confident he acted around groups of people and his slightly caustic attitude. The people he was genuinely comfortable with were fairly limited and the people whose company he actually enjoyed could be counted on his hands with fingers left over.

You were among the privileged few whose company he not only enjoyed, but who he actively sought out. He never drew attention to it, and it was incredibly subtle, but whenever you were both home at the same time he was almost always in the same room as you. You didn’t have to be interacting at all, in fact most of the time you’d be preoccupied and would suddenly look up to find him in the vicinity, usually listening to music or reading a book.

It wasn’t just at home either. Whenever you happened to be in the same vicinity as one another Tsukishima almost always gravitated to your side within the first five minutes of your arrival. He tended to use you, both as a shield and a bit of an excuse to not speak with anyone he found distasteful, insisting that he preferred your presence to the rest of the unwashed masses.

It never failed to make you feel soft and utterly loved whenever he did it, though you would never actually point it out or draw attention to it, well aware it would only make him defensive and hissy. Honestly, he was a bit like a cat that way, something Yamaguchi had pointed out to you when the two of you had first started dating and you’d asked the other man for advice. He’d told you to let Tsukishima do things on his own terms, and to treat him a bit like a standoffish feline, and it hadn’t failed you yet.

Carefully you stood up from your spot, and made your way over, well aware he was a bit of a light sleeper. He looked far more innocent in sleep that you would’ve guessed when you first met him, without the flashing golden eyes and the ever-present smirk on his face. It was a vulnerability he only showed to a trusted few and you were honored to be among them.

Gently, you pulled his glasses from his face, folding them neatly and setting them nearby where he could easily spot them once he woke, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He may try to hide it, but he really did have a sweet side to him, even if he could be incredibly salty at times and you couldn’t be happier to call him your boyfriend.

#tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima fluff #haikyū!!#haikyu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #how he shows you affection #JayeRayWrites

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burning-the-write-oil · 4 years

Text

Dame un beso

Summary: Reader finally gets to visit Javier and have some much needed time together.

Characters: Javier Peña/F!Reader

Words: 1.7k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: explicit sexual references, swearing, established relationship, dirty talk, oral (f)

A/N: So this is very random and I literally got the idea the other day and wrote it all today. Thank me watching The Mandalorian, Narcos, and thirsting over Pedro Pascal. I get the hype now lol. I hope this isn’t too bad and it’s maybe half as hot as it was in my head. Enjoy! And please like, reblog, and comment!

Side note: Requests are open and I’m now accepting requests for Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) and Javier Peña (Narcos).

Masterlist

You glanced over your shoulder towards the bedroom behind you, the door open just enough that you could still see the man draped in the white, cotton sheets still asleep. His chest rose and fell steadily and you couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across your lips, before returning to your previous task.

You’d woken up before Javier and decided to make you both some breakfast; something you both usually didn’t get around to if you stayed in bed too long. And you figured he wouldn’t be up for at least a little while longer, considering the hour you both finally tired and fell asleep. The delicious ache could still be felt at the apex of your thighs, only further extending the sated feeling in your body.

You returned your attention back to the stove in front of you, cooking together some of the vegetables you found leftover in Javi’s fridge and a few eggs. The A/C in the small apartment wasn’t the best, leaving you in a clean pair of underwear and the button-down you had carelessly helped him take off last night, the shirt open and barely covering your breasts. You barely heard the sound of footsteps across the hardwood floor before a pair of arms wrapped around your middle.

“I’m a little hurt that I woke up to an empty bed,” Javi mumbled behind you, pressing your back to his bare chest as he leaned down to press kisses along the side of your face.

You hummed in agreement, continuing to mix the food together as the kisses began to move to your jaw.

“Thought I’d make us some breakfast since I was up.” You smiled, turning your head ever so slightly to meet his warm, brown eyes.

“I was planning on eating something else.” He gently bit at the skin on the side of your neck before soothing the spot with a kiss.

You’d be lying if you didn’t feel heat start to pool at your center and you scoffed with a smirk.

“Well, I at least made coffee that I know you won’t turn down.” You gestured towards the small dining table across the room that had two mugs of coffee on it.

“You’re an angel.” He leaves one more kiss on your neck before releasing you to go take a drink of the coffee.

You finish cooking up breakfast and turn off the burner before you turn around fully to face him, your eyes widening slightly to see him only in a pair of jeans. Unbuttoned. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before meeting his eyes. You’ve barely been up an hour and you already want to jump his bones again.

“What time is your flight?” You hear him ask as you walk over to grab your own cup of coffee to take a drink.

Your flight. That was the last thing you wanted to think about right now. Leaving Javi. Going back to work in Medellin. 8 hours too long to see each other every day like you’d prefer.

“Eight.” You answered shortly, setting your cup back on the table after taking a drink of the hot beverage.

“Plenty of time.” He teases half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

You nod and return the expression, walking back over to the stove to grab two plates from the cabinet.

“Hey.”

You turn around to look at him at the sound of his voice, closing the cabinet.

“Dame un beso.” He looks at you expectedly with a smug smirk.

“What was that? Sorry no hablo español.” You tease him with a playful grin.

He raised a brow, challenging you to deny him.

“Dame. Un. Beso.”

You grin, walking over to him and immediately pressing your lips to his. You pull away a moment later, looking up to him.

“Come back to bed, cariño…” His voice lowers and you shiver at his words and the intent behind them.

“No tienes hambre?” You ask, feeling your resolve beginning to slip by the second. You were ready to leave the food where it was and do whatever he pleased.

“Hambriento.” He growls, slowly moving a hand down your stomach and under the band of your underwear, fingers brushing along your folds.

You exhale shakily, leaning back into him as he teases you for a moment before pulling his hand away and taking your hand to pull you along with him back to the bedroom. You follow him without hesitation, entering the room and giggling as he immediately presses his lips to yours before gently pushing you back onto the bed and climbing over you. You lay back on the soft duvet, your hands finding Javi’s thick, dark hair and carding through it. You gasp as he starts kissing down your chest, softly brushing his lips over the tops of your breasts as he slowly opens his shirt you were wearing until you were completely exposed to him.

“Te quiero.” He groans as his lips encase one of your swollen nipples and his tongue flicks at the bud. “Eres tan hermoso.”

You bite your lip, arching your back towards him as your fingers pull his head closer to you. He gives the same treatment to your other breast before teasingly tracing his fingers across your lower stomach.

“Javi, please…” You breathe, your eyes flickering open to glance down at him.

He moves up your body, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and dragging his tongue along your lower lip.

“I want to taste you, cariño.” Your eyes meet his and you nod as the anticipation builds of what’s to come.

He moves back down your body to grip the sides of your underwear, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he pulls them down your legs and tosses them to the side. His hand lifts your left leg, trailing kisses from your ankle and up your inner thigh as your heart rate continues to increase. He does the same with your other leg before his hands move towards your center, his thumbs parting your swollen lips. It’s more than obvious that you’re wet.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper as he brings a hand up to move your hands to his hair again one by one before his tongue licks a line along your slit.

Your moans only increase in volume as he alternates with soft licks and suction around your clit, his eyes intently watching your expressions and occasionally closing as he groans at your taste. He would occasionally pull back, licking his lips and telling you how beautiful you were before continuing his assault. It’s not long before you can feel pressure building and your breathing turn to gasps. He notices your moans increase and slowly moves away from your center, placing one more soft kiss on your clit before sitting back up. You can see your wetness all over his chin and on his mustache. You pull him down to you and press your lips to his roughly, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Fuck me…” You whimper in his ear , pushing him to the other side of the bed so you can straddle him.

He watches you with a smirk, breathing heavily as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You kiss down his chest, your eyes drifting up to his as you kissed along the hair at his lower stomach to his hardened length.

“Stop teasing, baby.” He mumbles lowly, his eyes fluttering shut.

You kiss back up his chest, straddling him as you reach over to the bedside table to grab a condom. Opening the packet, you slide the latex over his length before shifting to position him at your entrance. You slowly lower your hips as he pushes into you, your mouth falling open as he releases a low groan. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes focused on him and to not shut them. Once your hips meet his, you begin to teasingly grind your hips, occasionally lifting them up and down until his hands roughly grip your waist. He helps move you up and down on his length, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Your moans increase in volume as you ride him, your hands resting on his chest to help give you some leverage and he leans up to encase his lips around one of your nipples.

“You’re so good, hermosa. So fucking beautiful. I love your pussy.” You whimper as he pulls you close to his chest, thrusting his hips up to yours as hard as he can, the sound of skin hitting skin even more apparent.

He carefully helps you move off of him, sitting up and moving to kneel behind you. He kneels between your spread legs, taking his length in his hand and thrusting into you a moment later, his hands gripping your hips and your hand reaching to pull his head towards you. If it weren’t for his tight grip on your hips, you’d fall forward as his hips continue to roughly smack against your ass. You try to move your hips back to meet his thrusts as you turn your head to the side to roughly press your lips to his.

“You going to come for me?” He grunts, continuing to pull your hips back to meet his thrusts as your hand tightly grips the back of his neck.

You feel your walls clench as you nod quickly, “You feel so good Javi, fuck.”

After a few more thrusts, you feel your walls tighten and you let out a loud gasp as you come. He feels his own release hit him a few moments later, coming into the condom with a few loud grunts and mumbles of your name.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before gripping the base of the condom and pulling out of you. He helps you lay down on the bed before getting up to clean up in the bathroom. It’s not long before he returns with a warm washcloth to clean your center and inner thighs.

“Thank you.” You smile softly, stretching your arms and enjoying the sated feeling that fills your body again.

“Por supuesto.” He kisses your thigh before setting the rag to the side and getting into bed beside you. He reaches over to grab his pack of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips before lighting it.

You glance up at the ceiling with a sigh before quietly watching the man beside you. You hated goodbyes.

#my writing #pedro pascal #narcos #javier peña #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal fic #smut #fluff

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

PSL - John B Routledge

Request: Could u do John b and perhaps “if i hear pumpkin spice one more time i’m gonna scream” and or “wanna go apple picking”!?

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You sat at the kitchen table, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pajamas still on. You were sitting in front of your computer, waiting for the zoom chat to start. All you wanted to do was climb back in bed with John B and go back to sleep. The coffee next to your computer was steaming but all you could focus on was how tired you were. And cold. North Carolina had a cold front that had moved in and John B’s Chateau lacked heating because he hadn’t been paying the bill.

And the water heater had burst.

The zoom window on your computer expanded, your teacher’s screen mirroring on your own and you couldn’t help being thankful that there was no camera necessary for this class. Especially as you felt John B press a kiss to the top of your head, his hands on your shoulders.

“You look ridiculous.” He muttered.

“I’m cold,” you whined, twisting in your chair as you felt him let you go and heard him heading across the creaky floor. “How are you not?” You asked, realizing he was in just a pair of shorts.

He shrugged, walking around the island to grab a mug out of the cabinet for coffee. “I swear to god,” he muttered, catching your attention as your teacher continued to drone on about some off topic subject.

“What?”

“Is this what I think it is?” He asked, holding the box of k-cups up for you to see. The box was orange, leaves on it to illustrate the autumn flavor, Pumpkin Spice scrawled across the front with the familiar starbucks logo beneath it. “If I hear pumpkin spice one more time I’m gonna scream.”

“Don’t say it out loud?” You suggested, biting your lip as you tried not to laugh at the annoyed expression on his face. If there was one thing that John B was slowly realizing about you it was your absolute love of all things pumpkin spice. Fall hit every year and pumpkin became the center of your universe.

“We have pumpkin spice creamer, a pumpkin spice candle,” John B held up the jar candle on the counter as proof, “pumpkin spice soap, pumpkin spice oreos, and now pumpkin spice coffee. I feel like I’m somehow trapped in some weird pumpkin spice psychedelic trip.”

“You’re over-exaggerating,” you stressed, turning back to your computer for a second to answer a question, holding your hand up to keep John B quiet, “cognitivism.” This class, and the quiz review that you were in the middle of, was important for your grade but finding motivation every morning to get out of bed was a chore. John B made it almost impossible on a good day and now he was distracting you so that you could have it out over your pumpkin obsession.

“I’m not over-exaggerating. There is pumpkin spice crap all over the house, it's insane.” He argued once you’d muted the microphone again.

“I put up with all your weird obsessions.”

“I do not have weird obsessions.” John B replied, still making the pumpkin spice coffee despite bitching about it.

“You’re wearing your bandana.” You point out, “I think you’ve taken it off like, twice since I met you.”

“Not the same. At all.”

“It’s pretty damn close JB.” You replied. The bandana in question was tied around his neck currently but you were sure it would migrate throughout the day. Tied up around his nose and mouth as a mask, pushed up to keep his hair out of his face, tied around his wrist, tucked in his pocket...it was like some sort of extra limb that he kept connected to his body at all times. “I don’t see why you have to make such a big deal over me liking pumpkin spice...it takes up like, two months of your life.”

“Normal people like pumpkin spice...you’ve adopted it as the only flavor that exists.” John B argued.

“Well, you’re drinking the coffee so stop bitching.” You didn’t complain about what he liked or didn’t like, you didn’t understand why he got to complain about your stuff.

“I’m just saying-”

“Well stop saying it!” You snapped, wrapping yourself further in your blanket and crossing your arms.

For a moment, the only sound was in the room was your teacher wrapping up the lesson for the day. John B stood over at the counter, drinking the pumpkin spice coffee that he had complained about in the first place, watching you pretend to focus on class. He was just venting really and he hadn’t meant to piss you off as much as he clearly had. Sighing, he walked over to you, leaning over you again and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re in a really bitchy mood.”

“I know...” John B sighed. He stood up but let his hands hang over your shoulders, allowing you to take his hands, leaning back in the chair and looking up at him. You knew he was stressed, you were too. “Let’s do something.”

“Now?”

“When your class is over.” He replied, glancing at the clock on your computer screen, five more minutes. “Wanna go apple picking?” He knew that you had been asking him for weeks to do anything that wasn’t just hanging around the Chateau, going to the Wreck or anything else you did on a daily basis.

“For real?” You asked. “We’ll have to take the ferry?”

“That’s fine.” John B replied. “I swear, I’ll get dressed, we can go.”

“Okay,” You agreed, kissing him this time when he bent down. “And just think, in like another month it’ll be peppermint mocha everything.”

“Can’t wait.”

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i-am-hagatana · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Pack

(It’s finally done, I feel so dumb for not finishing in October, but I hope you still enjoy it!)

Chapter 1 (Mistakes were Made)

The morning sun shines between the silky curtains, lighting up a small room with little furniture present. Ethan, lying in a bed under the covers, takes a deep breath and squints his eyes open. He slowly rolls from his side onto his back and brushes his blue hair off of his face while staring at the partially blurry ceiling. He blinks a few times to force the sleepiness away and the ceiling becomes clearer. He turns his head to his left to find his glasses resting on a small bedside table. He pulls his left arm out from under the covers, revealing a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his forearm, and grabs his glasses. Ethan sits himself up and puts them on. Wait… That’s weird.

Ethan squints in confusion and takes the glasses back off. Everything around him in the room looks as clear as day. He can see the uneven paint strokes covering the door. The bumpy texture on the walls around him was more prominent. He can even see the smudges and dust particles on the lenses of his glasses. He places the glasses back on, his vision becomes blurred. He takes them off once more and stares down at them with bewilderment. He then shifts himself to the side of the bed, drops his feet to the wooden floor, and places his glasses in his shorts pocket while sitting on the edge.

Ethan’s attention then switches to his left arm, more specifically, the bandage with a large bloodstain in the shape of the letter u. He studies it for a brief moment, his heart rate quickens and his lips slightly part as the memories suddenly begin to rush back. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. A memory appears in his mind, he remembers laughing to the point his chest got sore. Around him were his new friends, the whole gang was gathered. Amy, Kathryn, Tyler, Sean, Bob, Wade, and… Mark. They all hung out in the living room, drinking beverages and munching on some snacks, sharing multiple stories and jokes, but also doing their hardest not to choke from laughter. They all celebrated the new memories and videos they all made together, and their newest member of the group, Ethan, who had been working for Mark for about a month now. Ethan was then standing beside Mark, thanking him for everything and the opportunity, and emphasizing the joy he felt working with them all.

Mark gave him a big smile in return, then quickly looked to the right to notice Amy look over at him. The two exchanged nods, then looked around and did the same with the others, causing Ethan to raise an eyebrow. The room grew quiet.

“Ethan,” Mark spoke. Ethan turned his attention back to Mark and answered, “Yeah?” He watched as Mark’s expression became a bit serious.

Ethan suddenly shakes his head, snapping out of the memory and back to the bedroom he was sitting in. He looks at his bandaged arm once more with a scared shaky breath, his expression now filled to the brim with anxiety. His breathing gradually slows back to normal. He drops his arms to his side with a sigh and forces himself out of bed, not wanting to relive the rest of the night…

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Ethan exits the bedroom and stares down the empty hallway. He walks across to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. He flicks the light switch on and pulls his phone out of his other pocket. He presses the home button and the screen displays the time, 8:45 a.m. Underneath were a few notifications, but he lets his screen go dark as his attention switches to the mirror in front of him. Ethan notices his face and immediately freezes. His phone drops out of his hand, landing on the counter with a thud. One hand shoots to his face, feeling that his skin was smooth… he couldn’t believe it, his acne was gone!

“What the…” Ethan mutters to himself. How on Earth? No person’s face could just do that overnight… Not wanting to stress himself, and not wanting the memory to return, Ethan shakes his head with a sigh, leaves the bathroom, and quietly heads down the stairs, praying he could head out the door and away from this craziness without seeing Mark again…

Ethan enters the kitchen and turns toward the living room to see Amy and Chica chilling together on the couch and watching TV. Amy turns her head to him and sits forward.

“Hey!” Amy gets up from the couch and walks over to the now nervous Ethan, who could not make himself at least grin, and he was trying. “I was just wondering if I should go check on you, how are you feeling?”

“Uh… I’m ok…” Ethan absentmindedly looks at the floor as his right hand grabs his arm, gently gripping the bandaged area. Amy looks down at his forearm, her smile fades for a moment, but she forces it back on. She carefully grabs his bandaged arm, causing him to slightly jump and look at her with a bit of surprise.

“You know,” Amy tells him, “you don’t need this anymore.” Ethan raises an eyebrow as Amy begins to unravel the bandage. “If you've ever seen any werewolf movies, you might remember that most of them could heal fast. In the real world, though, that’s the case for all of them.” Within a few seconds, the bandage is peeled off, revealing a wound free arm, causing Ethan’s jaw to drop. He pulls his arm back to study it, his right hand up and down his forearm a few times. Not a single touch or squeeze causes any pain, his arm doesn’t even feel sore. It was as if he was never wounded, he wishes that was the case...

Ethan’s heart rate picks up, the word “werewolf” becomes stuck in his head... yet he also feels a bit confused why she sounds so calm? Does she not understand what happened last night? Pausing the questioning for a moment, he sighs, “This.. is really happening?... And Mark is actually…?” Amy sighs but looks him in the eyes with a reassuring smile.

“I know exactly how you’re feeling, I know what’s going through your mind. This is all really strange, and somewhat scary at first. But trust me when I say you don’t have to feel scared, you can trust us.” Meanwhile, Chica jumps down from the couch and walks over to them with a wagging tail. Amy turns to her and greets her with a grin. Ethan looks at her as well, but doing so causes her to freeze in place and stop wagging her tail. Confused, he holds his hand out to her, giving her permission to come closer for some head scratches. However, Chica’s eyes stare at him with a bit of fear and confusion. A small whimper escapes through her mouth as she backs away and goes to lay beside the couch and out of Ethan and Amy’s sight. Amy looks back at Ethan with pity, seeing him look down and pull back his now slightly shaking hand.

“You hungry?” she asks to temporarily take his mind off the situation. Ethan picks his head up to look at her.

“Well.. yeah, but-”

“Then come sit, I’ll make breakfast,” Amy cuts him off and leads him to the dining room table. Ethan tries to turn around.

“No, you really don’t have to.” Amy continues to nudge him towards a seat and urges “It’s alright, I insist. You’re gonna need food anyway.” Amy smiles at him, causing him to give in and sit in a chair at the table.

“Thanks, Amy…”

“Don’t worry about it.

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The kitchen and the rooms nearby are filled with a constant sizzling. The aroma of eggs and sausages fill the air, some slices of bread are toasting in the toaster as well. Amy works her way around the kitchen, grabbing plates and cups from the cabinets, using a spatula to scramble the eggs and rotate the sausages. Every batch in the frying pans and toaster are transferred to three large plates that are piled high with the separated breakfast foods and resting at the center of the table. Ethan is sitting at the end of the table, enjoying his fairly large plate of food. Amy quickly walks through one doorway with a frying pan filled with eggs and empties it onto the egg platter. Suddenly, in the other doorway that leads to the kitchen, Sean enters and greets the two with a big grin.

“Hey guys!” he says with slight cheer and walks over to them. The two return his greeting with quick smiles, then Amy returns to the kitchen and Ethan returns to his meal. Sean takes a seat in the chair beside Ethan, sits back, and rests an arm on the back of the seat.

“How’s it goin’, Ethan?” Ethan looks up from his plate and swallows the food in his mouth.

“I’m as good as I can be, I guess..” Ethan looks back down at his plate with a sad look and pushes his food around with his fork. Sean stares at him for a moment, seeing and sensing Ethan’s mental distress… Amy quickly comes back into the dining room and hands Sean a plate, utensils, and a glass of water, then heads back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Ethan.” Sean stares at him with a smile forming on his face.

“Hm?” Ethan responds and looks up at him while taking a sip out of his cup. Sean quickly giggles to himself, then looks up and leans in a bit closer to Ethan.

“Wanna hear a story?” Sean asks, hoping in his mind that a bit of humor would help. Ethan places his cup down, places his arms crisscrossed on the table, and leans in to listen closely. Through many occasional chuckles, Sean begins.

“This one time when I was at Mark’s, he was taking a nap in the afternoon. I decided to pull a prank on him, and boy was it pretty good. And you’d think that since he was in his wolf form, he would be able to sense me comin’. But luckily, the night before, Mark stayed up ‘til around 5 in the mornin’ to finish editing. I warned him not to ‘cause he had been workin’ all day, but he didn’t listen. Then at around 7 AM, he went outside to the woods in his wolf form for a bit of exercise, thinking it would give him energy for the day. When he returned, he had burned himself out, so he just frickin’ plopped on the couch and was out cold quick. So I decided to mess with him for not listenin’. I snuck to the kitchen and filled a bowl with ice-cold water. Then I snuck up behind the couch, yelled his name as loud as I could to make him jump and then I dumped the whole bowl all over him. He stood up shivering and growing frustrated. I was already laughing hard, but then he tried to run at me and ended up slipping on the water on the floor and landing on his face. It reminded me of a frickin’ cartoon and I nearly died laughing. I know it seems kinda cruel, but it was also sort of payback for him messing with me in a game a few days earlier”

Ethan politely lets out a fake giggle, he fins the story was funny, but picturing werewolf Mark destroyed his pleasure... His fake laughter quickly ceases as the image continues to haunt him. He quietly sighs and looks back down at the bit of food remaining on his plate to clear his mind. After Sean fills his own plate with some breakfast, he places his fork beside his plate and looks at Ethan.

“You wanna know somethin’ else?” Ethan looks back up at him and slightly tilts his head.

“Like Mark, I have a little secret too, but don’t go runnin’ off after I show ya,” Sean demands. Ethan lets out a sigh through his nose and gives him a nod. Sean grins at him, then turns his head to the kitchen and notices salt and pepper shakers sitting on the counter. Sean lifts his left hand in the air a few inches from his body. Suddenly, a green glowing energy surrounds them, lifting them off of the counter and into mid-air. Sean moves his raised hand slightly closer to himself in a pulling-like motion, causing the shakers to float towards him and land on the table next to his plate. The green glow disappears, Sean grabs the salt and sprinkles a bit on his food. With a small grin, he looks over at Ethan, who’s eyes are nearly bulging out of his head, and the fork in his hand falls and lands on the table with a clatter.

“Magic exists too?!” Ethan shouts with surprise.

“Yup. When I was young, my father taught me and my siblings magic he learned from his father. He told us that his side of the family possesses power, and he could sense a bit of it inside of all five of us. Then he trained us and taught us about everything else that exists” With that last sentence, Amy enters the room with her own tableware and sits in a chair across from Sean. She serves herself some food while Sean digs into his plate.

“Wish I knew some magic,” Amy comments, “it would make work a little easier.” Sean giggles in response.

Ethan, however, sits back in his chair with shock in his eyes, his mind flooding with questions that cause his head to ache. Was there anything else he didn’t know? Is anyone else that he knows keeping secrets from him? What’s going to happen now that he wasn’t human anymore?...

In the same doorway Sean walked through, Bob and Wade come into the dining room with upset looks on their faces.

“Hey, guys…” Bob says, obtaining the attention of Sean and Amy.

“Any luck talking to Mark?” Amy asks with some worry.

“He wouldn’t talk to us, and he wouldn’t let us into his room.”

“He’s not taking this situation very well, but I guess we can’t blame him…” Wade adds with a sigh.

As they talk, Ethan continues sitting there, lost in his thoughts and feeling overwhelmed with unwelcomed emotions. He unintentionally begins to think back to last night once again. He sees himself surrounded by the others, they were all silent as they watched him and Mark.

“Ethan,” Mark spoke, “we’re all just so grateful to have you with us, we’re really glad you’re enjoying time with all of us, and we really enjoy our time with you. I’m glad we became friends and that we’re able to make videos together.” Ethan showed him a big smile. Mark took a few steps away from Ethan but still faced him. “We really appreciate what you add to our group, and we trust you a lot. And because we do… There’s something I want to show you, something that I believe I can trust you with at this point.” Mark stopped a few feet from him and took a few deep breaths.

“Mark, what is it?” Ethan watched him with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, this is gonna be very weird,” Mark responds while he pulls off his shoes, “but please just stay calm.”

“I don’t understand...” Ethan looked around at the others, hoping someone would explain or at least give clues.

“You will.” Tyler stared at Ethan with his arms crossed and a calm, yet serious expression.

“Just trust us,” Amy added. Ethan’s attention returned to Mark when he took one last deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Ethan!” Sean exclaims, causing Ethan to snap out of the memory and look up at everyone in the dining room with a gasp. Ethan composes himself and sits up.

“Yeah?” Ethan’s voice cracks.

“You okay?” Bob asks with concern. Ethan clears his throat and stands up, grabbing his tableware.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just gonna.. go put my other clothes back on.”

“Hold on,” Amy tells him while getting out of her seat, “your other shirt got a bit of blood on it, I’ll lend you one of Mark’s.”

“..Ok, thanks...” Ethan walks into the kitchen, Amy follows behind him. The other three stay in the dining room and look at each other. Sean sighs, “Ethan isn’t doing very good either.. What’s Tyler and Kathryn up to?” Bob and Wade sit at the table.

“They wanted to try and talk to Mark too, not sure if it’ll work though..” Bob answers. The three sigh and look down at the table. Sean then suddenly looks up.

“I think Ethan needs somethin’ to temporarily take his mind off of this while the rest of us help Mark, and then we’ll figure out what to do, and quick. Tyler said the next full moon’s tomorrow.” Their faces become filled with concern, they occasionally tap their fingers on the table, trying to make themselves think.

“What if we take him out for a walk?” Sean and Bob look at Wade. “Maybe fresh air is what he needs, and maybe me and Bob can talk to him to help him feel better about this situation.”

“Alright,” Sean responds, “just be careful not to say anything that’ll freak him out more.”

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“What’re we doing?” Ethan asks in confusion as Bob and Wade lead him to the front door.

“We’re taking you out for a little walk,” Bob answers, “we thought it would be good for you since you’re feeling.. You know.”

“Just don’t go running off on us,” Wade comments as he opens the door. Ethan looks at them both, then heads out the door with a sigh of defeat. Bob and Wade quickly turn back to give Sean, who was watching from the kitchen, two thumbs up. Sean responds with a nod and a smile, then the two head out the door and close it behind them.

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“Mark’s still in there?” Amy asks when she comes across Kathryn and Tyler in the upstairs hallway.

“He’s really hard to talk to when he’s this upset…” Kathryn sighs and frowns.

“I don’t think we can convince him right now, it’s probably best to give him just a little more time. Sorry, Amy..” Tyler tells her and walks past her with Kathryn. The two head downstairs, but Amy heads for the bedroom with some determination. She stops at the bedroom door and leans against it. She lifts her hand with hesitation and lightly knocks.

“Mark?...” On the other side of the door, Mark, who is sitting hunched forward on the side of his bed facing away from the door, slightly picks his head up to the side and remains silent.

“Come on, Mark. I know this situation’s scary and stressful, but you need to talk to someone. Maybe let that someone be me?” A shaky sigh escapes Mark’s mouth as he turns his head away. He places his elbows on his legs and rests his chin in his hands, pressing his hands against his mouth as he struggles to hold back tears and avoid breaking down.

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“So uh, you heard about the new game coming out next year?” Bob asks the other two. Wade furrows his eyebrows and looks at him. “I dunno, which one?” Ethan, not paying them any attention, is walking in front of them, his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets and his eyes fixed on the ground. The three are walking down the sidewalk, Bob begins to explain with his hands while speaking.

“It’s the one where a group of alien warriors saves you, the main character, from the planet that went up in flames, they take you to their world and raise you to become a hero like them.” Ethan’s ears slowly tune their conversation out as he focuses on his thoughts and surroundings. He lifts his head up and watches a couple of small birds flies by. He looks at the trees along the sidewalk gently swaying in the breeze. Suddenly, a dog’s bark steals his attention. His head snaps to the left to see a woman walking a black german shepherd up the street on the opposite sidewalk. The dog stares at Ethan and lets out a few more barks before the dog and its owner are far behind them. That dog.. looked awfully familiar... Ethan looks back at the ground in front of him, his heart rate and breathing quickening as the memory continues in his mind once again.

He sees Mark closing his eyes as he takes one last deep breath. Ethan watched him with confusion, but suddenly… it started. Ethan looked at Mark’s hands in shock when he saw his fingers sort of stiffen as his nails lengthened and sharpened. He looked up at Mark’s face to see his face slightly scrunch with discomfort and his teeth lightly grit, only he saw fangs now in place of his canines. The stubble on the sides of his face thickened into sideburns as his ears grew pointy. Hair began to sprout on the backs of his arms and along the back of his neck. His muscles gradually grew larger as the hair continued to spread and slowly thicken into fur. There were audible cracks as his height began to steadily increase by a foot. His limbs lengthened a bit as well. Then his claws thickened and blackened as his fingertips and palms began to bulge into pads. As the fur covered his entire body, his clothes tore in some spots and a fluffy tail ripped through the back of his pants underneath the waistband. His feet stretched into wolf-like hindlegs as his jaw lengthened into a muzzle and his long ears moved to the top of his head. A relieved huff escaped his mouth, signifying the transformation was over. His eyes opened to reveal a pair of glowing amber irises that see Ethan standing frozen in shock with his eyes bulging.

Mark’s tail swished as he semi-nervously stared at Ethan.

“So yeah,” Mark spoke while taking a step forward, “this is it.” Ethan instinctively took a few steps back.

“Ethan?” Mark raised an eyebrow and walked a little closer. Ethan’s breathing picked up as he backed away faster. The others called out to him too, but he quickly spun around and took off away from them, heading for the front door. Mark ran after him, still calling out his name and begging him to stop. Before Ethan could reach the door, Mark suddenly tripped on a stray dog toy, lost his footing, and fell towards Ethan, who managed to spin around in time to see him falling. Ethan quickly held his arms up in front of his face in defense and Mark slammed into him, knocking him to the floor. Almost immediately, Ethan screamed out in pain and the others stared in shock. Mark noticed the taste of blood in his mouth, and he opened his eyes to see he had Ethan’s left forearm caught between his teeth. Ethan opened his eyes to see it too. Mark instantly dropped his arm, picked himself off of Ethan, and crouched a few feet away from him with ears lowered, allowing Ethan to sit up. Mark and the others were silent, some breathing and Ethan’s loud pained huffing were the only present sounds. Ethan grasped his wound, blood dripped between his fingers and splattered on the floor. His eyes grew red as tears welled up from the agonizing throbbing in his forearm. His stare went from his injury to Mark’s traumatized face. Ethan’s breathing endlessly quickened, but his vision began to blur. The pain consumed his mind, making him more and more lightheaded until... everything went black.

Ethan’s attention suddenly returns to Bob and Wade now crouching in front of him and staring with worry. Ethan’s body is tense and hunched forward while he sat on the ground with his back pressing against a tree. His breathing was now shaky and accelerated.

“Ethan, take it easy!” Bob spoke in an attempt to calm his hyperventilating. Ethan presses the bottoms of his palms into his temples and grasps his hair between his fingers.

“Just breathe!” Wade slightly shouts, causing Ethan to jump. Ethan forces himself to take a deep breath, followed by a set of deeper breaths that eventually slow his heart rate and allow his body to relax. Ethan slowly releases his hair and rests his forearms on his knees.

“There you go..” Ethan looks at the two, then lowers his forehead into his arms with a shaky breath.

“Ethan,” Wade says and places his hand on Ethan’s arm, “talk to us.” Ethan slowly lifts his head, his eyes growing pink. His expression becomes greatly saddened as a few tears escape his eyes.

“...I don’t think I can handle this.” Ethan’s voice cracks with panic as he pulls his legs into a tight embrace. “I don’t understand what the heck is going on, and why to me... Why did Mark do this?...” Bob and Wade look at each other with some surprise for a moment, then back at Ethan’s sorrowful expression.

“Ethan.. Mark never planned this to happen, he thought he could reveal himself and you would accept what you saw. But…”

“But he didn’t think you’d freak out like you did.” Wade cuts in, his comment earning him an elbow in the arm from Bob. Ethan watches the two, questioning whether to believe them as he still questioned everything else.

“Trust us, Ethan, we’ve been there. When Mark was still new to this, we were very skeptical when he tried telling us about it. But then the stress of college got to him one day and we witnessed him sort of freak out. Luckily, none of us got hurt, and no one else was around, but we were still really scared. But we knew Mark well, we knew if he were to ever hurt us, it wouldn’t be intentional.” Ethan stares up at Bob’s reassuring smile.

“The best thing you can do now is to try clearing the air, work things out with Mark ‘cause you’re gonna need to right away.” Bob stands up, holding out his hand to Ethan. He helps Ethan up after eventually, he decided to grab his hand. As Ethan stands up, they’re given weird looks from a jogger that runs by.

“Let’s just enjoy outside for a bit longer.” Bob grins at Ethan, who responds with a nod and another fake grin. The three once again head down the sidewalk, though some emotional pain still plagues Ethan’s mind...

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“Amy… please, I don’t wanna talk right now…” Mark hugs himself as he shivers from stress, unable to escape the thought of the pain he caused, and the pain he knows Ethan will go through soon...

“There’s no denying that mistakes were made, but we can’t change what happened. I’m not saying that what you did was ok, but I’m also not saying you should beat yourself up for it. Just.. just open up to me, please.” Mark stays sitting for another moment, then gets up and slowly walks to the door. His hand reaches for the doorknob, hesitates for a second, but then opens the door with a sigh and steps back, allowing Amy to enter. She looks at his hurt expression, his frown filled with pain, his eyes filled with sorrow and bright pink from the tears now building up. With a shaky sigh, his eyes shut, allowing his tears to stream down his face as he lowers his head.

“I don’t know what to do...” he says with a sniffle, “This is the worst I’ve ever messed up, I hurt him and I deserve to feel hurt for it… I never imagined this would happen, now it did and… he never deserved anything like this, he never should have had me in his life…”

Amy frowns and pulls him into a hug, resting a hand on the back of his head to pull it into her shoulder and gently rub his hair.

“No one deserves to go through this, but you both deserved to meet each other. You’re both good men, you’ve always deserved the best, no matter how many mistakes you’ve made. You’re his idle, and I don’t think anything in the world could change that. I know this is a very tough situation, but you can’t seclude yourself and drown yourself in this pain and stress for the rest of your life. Even if he never admits it, he needs your help to get him through this, and you need him to show that you can be forgiven.” Amy releases Mark and he looks down.

“But, he must hate me right now… He’s probably terrified just thinking of me…”

“Sure, maybe he is, but that isn’t going to last forever. Maybe soon he’ll realize he’ll need to forgive you, and that you’re not so scary after all. You just gotta take a chance and confront him.”

“I don’t.. I don’t know if I can talk to him…”

“Yes you can, because you’ll have all of us there to help you both get through this, no matter what happens.” Mark looks into her eyes with a grateful expression.

“You’re all too good for me…” Amy gently puts a hand on Mark’s cheek and wipes away the line of tears with her thumb.

“Everyone deserves good in their lives, Mark, especially you.” She quickly leans in and lands a heartfelt kiss on his cheek.

‘Now come on, let’s get you some breakfast.” Mark and Amy exit the bedroom together, happily holding hands.

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“You sure you’re doing ok for now, Mark?” Amy stands beside him, lightly hugging his arm, causing him to smile and finally feel at peace.

“I mean, yeah. You guys cheered me up a bit, and I think Ethan could be doing better too. All that’s left to worry about is tomorrow.” The gang’s conversation is interrupted when the front door opens, in walks Bob, Wade, and Ethan. Bob and Wade smile and laugh while Ethan is only showing a slight grin. Ethan spots Mark hanging out with the others in the living room, his eyes widen, fear consumes his mind as he freezes in the doorway. Silence fills the room as the others turn to the door, Mark’s smile slightly fades at the sight of a still scared Ethan. Despite the advice and reassurance from most of the group, Ethan still finds it hard to see Mark as the same guy. The kind legend he looked up to, the man he backflipped for despite the crowd watching. That man was replaced by a terrifying beast. Ethan’s mind still greets him with terrifying images of werewolf Mark knocking him to the floor, his open maw with large fangs growing closer with every moment. Mark opens his mouth to speak, but stays silent, not able to find any words. Even he still fears and finds trouble confronting his friend. Not knowing what to do and not having enough courage, Ethan rushes through the living room and up the stairs, avoiding looking at anyone’s face.

Mark’s face drops and his heart suddenly aches in a familiar way from the past. For a moment, Mark is also taken back to the night before. He remembers the fear he saw in Ethan’s eyes, a fear that he caused, and that causes him to feel like a beast. The cold pain grew in his heart knowing that moment changed Ethan, and no amount of wishing or regret could take that moment away... Mark lets out a shaky breath and walks away from the group, heading towards the back of the house.

“I need a moment…” he tells the others. Amy reaches a hand out to grab Mark’s arm but finds herself freeze before making contact, not knowing what words would fix this. Chica, who’s laying against the wall by the stairs, watches Mark walk and lets out a small whimper.

“So much for tomorrow being the only thing to worry about…” Sean comments while crossing his arms. A few others sigh, but Bob and Wade walk over to them.

“Alright guys, yes, it’s gonna be really difficult getting those two to talk to each other, but we probably can’t do much more to convince them at the moment. I think right now we should start planning what we need to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’ve already got some ideas. Once the six of us come up with a solid plan, I’ll talk to Mark about it. Ok?” Everyone responds to Tyler’s announcement with nods.

“I think we can all agree step one is hoping this all goes right…” Wade sighs.

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Chapter 2 (Everything Changes):

A single bulb lights up a small room, a window in the back wall lets in the darkness of the night, along with a bit of moonlight. A table sits at the center, surrounded by everyone, but Ethan. While he is resting, the group is gathered and looking around at each other.

“Alright,” Tyler announces, “let’s go over this one last time. Bob and Wade are in charge of fortifying. They’ll head to the nearest hardware store to buy some silver that’ll prevent Ethan from breaking out of this room. Mark and I are in charge of fuel. We’ll head out to the supermarket to buy plenty of groceries. Amy, Kathryn, and Sean will stay here. They’ll set up the tech and the room, and comfort Ethan if needed until we all come back. Once we’re all prepared, Mark, despite how they both feel, will have a talk with Ethan. Then Mark will comfort him through his transformation and leave the room before Ethan can attack. Then the rest of the night is waiting around or sleeping, depending on how we’re all feeling. Everyone got that?” Nods are exchanged among the group.

“I promise.. I’ll talk to him,” Mark tells them, “even if it feels impossible, and even if he keeps trying to avoid me.” Mark looks down at the table while the others show looks of concern. Tyler, however, raises an eyebrow.

“No matter what?” Mark looks up at him, hesitating to speak for a moment.

“..No matter what.”

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The morning sun pours into the house’s windows. Ethan continues to rest, being kept in bed by lack of sleep due to the remaining trauma. The door of the bedroom quietly cracks open and Amy’s head peaks in to find him sound asleep. She slowly shuts the door and turns around to face Mark.

“Maybe you should just let him rest, maybe that will help him a bit.” Mark nods in agreement and the two sneak down the hall, heading for the stairs.

“I was hoping we could work things out right away,” Mark sighs, “maybe this is better?...” The two head into the kitchen and walk over to the counter.

“Maybe I could try in the afternoon?...” Mark looks nervous and stares down at the counter with uncertainty. Amy moves closer beside him and gently rubs a hand on his back.

“Whenever you can, I know you can do it.” Mark looks at her with a forming grin, Amy gives one too as Mark tilts his head to gently rest it against hers, feeling a moment of relief.

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The day grows closer to noon, Amy and Sean are sitting together on the couch, desperately attempting to get a camera working. Kathryn soon joins them with a laptop. Mark and Tyler quickly pass through the room and head to the front door. They stop for a minute and turn back to the other three.

“We’ll be back in a while, good luck with setting up.” Tyler waves goodbye as he opens the door, Mark gives a wave as well before they both step out. Bob and Wade rush through the room as well, grabbing the front door before it closes.

“Same from us,” Bob says as he and Wade face the three. They quickly turn back, head out of the door, and shut it behind them. Amy and Sean’s attention return to the camera while Kathryn types away. Meanwhile, Ethan momentarily eavesdrops at the top of the stairs.

“I don’t understand,” Amy comments, “we filmed with this camera a week ago.” Ethan slowly comes down the stairs.

“Maybe check the batteries?” Sean suggests while pointing. Ethan reaches the bottom of the stairs, causing the other three to look up at him.

“Hey man.” Sean shows him a grin. “Uh, how’re you doin’?” Ethan walks into the living room while stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

“Well…” Ethan looks down and sighs. “You want it straight?”

“Yeah, just be honest,” Kathryn responds. Ethan looks up at their smiles.

“Alright. I’m still really terrified, kind of on edge, and pretty hungry.” The others stare with worry for a moment. ”Well, I can fix one of those,” Amy tells him, “Want some cereal?” Ethan looks at her with a nod as she puts the camera aside and gets up from the couch, leading Ethan to the kitchen. She grabs a bowl from a cabinet and a box of cereal from another. While she pours cereal, Ethan grabs the milk from the fridge and a spoon from a drawer. He pours the milk and places the spoon in the bowl. Amy gives him a smile and puts away the cereal and milk.

“Thanks,” Ethan says as he grabs the bowl and stands by the side of the counter. “So what’re you guys up to?” Ethan eats a spoonful of cereal while he watches Amy walk back over to Sean and Kathryn.

“We’re setting up this camera and laptop to keep an eye on you in the room tonight.” Ethan stops moving cereal around with his spoon and raises an eyebrow at Kathryn.

“... Keep an eye on me?” Amy’s expression slightly drops while Ethan takes another spoonful.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t really tell you about the first full moon yet…” Sean gets up from the couch, volunteering himself to speak with a partially nervous look.

“You see, every new werewolf turns against their will on their first full moon, and yours is tonight. I hate to be frank, but you’re not gonna be yourself. You’re gonna go through a lot of pain when you transform. And when that’s over, you won’t be in control. You’ll try to break out to attack and hunt for anything living you can find, and you won’t remember anything you did the next day.” Ethan stares with shock, his spoon drops out of his hand and into his bowl while he gulps the cereal in his mouth.

“... Well.. that’s relieving.” Ethan stares at the floor as he places his bowl on the counter. Sean walks over to him as he leans his side against the counter.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sean stands beside him. “I can’t sugarcoat it, it’s gonna start out really rough. But that pain won’t last forever, over time you’ll get used to turning. And ya don’t have to worry about hurting anybody tonight, we’re all making sure that won’t happen. If there was a cure, we would frantically search across the whole world to find it for you. But, unfortunately, you’re gonna go through this and all we can do to help is be there for you while you go through it.” Ethan nervously sighs and stands up straight. He slowly lifts his shaky hands, turning them to stare down at his palms, part of him wondering what he saw Mark do would feel like, but the rest of him fearing what’s to come.

“I know what I saw Mark do was real, but it’s still so hard to believe this is all happening. That I’m actually gonna… change.” Ethan places a hand on his head and lowers his other hand.

“I know, I know what you’re goin’ through. Trust me, my siblings and I felt a similar way when magic was revealed to us, and when we learned of what else exists in our world. But like I said, you will get used to it all after a while.” Sean gives Ethan a soft pat on the back. “Just try not to think about this too much, you can’t stop it from happening, you gotta try to accept it and let it happen.” Ethan stares down for another moment, then looks up at Sean’s reassuring smile.

“Ok…” Ethan sighs and walks over to the living room with Sean. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Sean sits beside Amy, who, with a bit of frustration, is fiddling with the camera.

“We can’t get this stupid camera to work.” Ethan sits on the couch and holds out his hands towards Amy.

“Here, let me see.”

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In the chilled fresh produce section of a supermarket, Mark and Tyler are in the vegetable section, searching around for ingredients on their list. Mark looks through the different bags of potatoes while Tyler places some green onions in the cart between them.

“It’s not too late to text Bob and Wade to add chains to their list, you know.” Hearing this causes Mark to pause for a moment before he grabs two bags of potatoes and places them in the cart.

“We won’t need that, Tyler.” Mark pushes the cart at a slow pace past several kinds of vegetables with Tyler following behind him.

“Mark, listen to me. Tonight is going to be a new werewolf’s first full moon, there’s no telling what will happen. For all we know, something could go wrong and then things will get really dangerous.” Mark abruptly stops walking, causing Tyler to stop too.

“I would appreciate it if you said Ethan instead of calling him a ‘new werewolf.’” Mark begins to grab some carrots while Tyler’s expression becomes a bit frustrated.

“And I would appreciate it if you weren’t stubborn for once. Just trust me on this!” Mark quickly drops some carrots into the cart and faces Tyler.

“Look, this is going to be extremely difficult and painful for Ethan, we of all people know that. Why should we take precautions that’ll add to his torment? I think that would make things worse.” Tyler huffs and turns away from him. “I want us all to get through this safely, and we will, as long as I can comfort Ethan without any problems. We can’t make this worse for him, just trust me a bit more to make this better for him.” Mark turns back to the cart and pushes it further into the vegetable section.

“You’re such a pain,” Tyler mumbles to himself with his arms crossed.

“And you know I heard that,” Mark said back to him.

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Hundreds of shelves stacked several feet high with hardware fill a warehouse-like store. Bob and Wade are walking down an aisle, the shelves stacked with different power tools. The two stop for a moment, Bob grabs a drill and places it into their cart filled with long screws.

“So that takes care of putting up the sheets, now we gotta actually find the sheets…” Bob says as his eyes start searching across the rest of the aisle. Wade joins in and spots a worker restocking a shelf. The two walk over to him and get his attention.

“Excuse me,” he says, “we were wondering where we could find sheets of metal, more specifically, silver.” The worker nods at them.

“Sure thing, just follow me.” The worker takes the two down a few aisles and into the back of the store. The three soon come across a few shelves filled with hundreds of different sheets of metal.

“You should find what you need right on these shelves.” Bob and Wade give each other relieved looks. “If you don’t mind my asking, I got a bit curious, what do you need this stuff for? I’m very interested in metalwork.” Their faces slightly drop as they frantically think of a lie.

“Abstract art,” Wade blurts out. Bob mentally facepalms but nods along with what he says.

“Yeah… We’ve been working on a special project and needed more supplies.” The worker stares at them for a moment, then gives a quick nod.

“Ok, good luck with that!” The worker walks off and out of sight down a different aisle, allowing the two to sigh in relief. Bob quickly elbows Wade.

“I hope I never have to lie with you again.”

“Hey!” Wade exclaims and elbows him back. Bob lets out a small laugh as the two turn back to the shelves.

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Kathryn, now in the small room, is standing at the table that was moved against the wall. She types into a program on the laptop and presses a few buttons on the camera that is sitting on the table. Ethan stands in the center of the room, looking around as his mind imagines several different scenarios, despite his efforts to avoid those thoughts. Outside of the room in the hallway, Amy and Sean are dragging a fairly heavy couch to the room.

“Do ya know if anyone’s gonna be back yet?” Sean slightly grunts as he gives the couch a shove. Amy takes a deep breath through her nose and pulls the couch as he does so.

“Mark texted a little while ago saying he and Tyler will be a little while. The checkout lines at the store are huge, just our luck.” The two stop for a breather when they reach the door of the room.

“Great…” Sean mumbles to himself and crosses his arms. Ethan turns to see them and walks over.

“Here, lemme help.” Ethan places both hands in the best positions possible underneath one end of the couch. With a few, almost effortless tugs, Ethan drags the couch into the middle of the room by himself. Sean and Amy stare for a moment with some surprise.

“Huh, looks like your werewolf strength’s already kicked in a bit.” Sean stands in the doorway while Ethan looks down at himself, feeling a bit surprised as well.

“I had been feeling a bit off, but I thought it was just my nerves…” The sound of the front door interrupts their conversation. Sean and Amy turn toward that direction.

“We’re back,” they hear Mark call out, “the store and traffic were brutal.” Mark and Tyler enter the living room while carrying multiple plastic bags stuffed with food. They head to the kitchen and place them down on the counter. Sean and Amy walk down the hallway and into the kitchen, leaving Ethan and Kathryn in the room. Ethan once again feels his heart speed up a bit.

“Ethan,” Kathryn grabs his attention, “could you help me real quick?” Ethan walks over to her.

Meanwhile, the four in the kitchen greet each other.

“You guys hear anything from Bob and Wade yet?” Sean asks with some worry. Mark and Tyler sigh.

“No…”

“Well, maybe they hit traffic or something. Just try not to worry,” Amy assures them.

“How’s he doing?” Mark looks at her with concern.”

“He’s already startin’ to feel some changes…”

“Ok… Then I’d better start making dinner.” Mark begins to empty out the bags of produce.

“I’ll help you.” Amy walks over to a cabinet and reaches for a large pot.

Large plates of meat and vegetables rest at the center of the dining room table. The seats were filled by the group who each have their own plate of food. Ethan made sure to sit as far away from Mark as possible. Mark couldn’t help but constantly look over at Ethan as they ate. Ethan, however, forces his focus on his plate, avoiding the stares he felt coming from Mark. The others occasionally look up at the two, feeling some awkward tension in the air but remain silent.

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An orange glow fills the sky as the sun begins to descend toward the horizon. Ethan is sitting on the couch in the middle of the small room, his leg nervously tapping on the floor and his hands fidgeting. The sound of drilling catches him off guard. He looks up to see Bob and Wade finish drilling the sheets into the inside of the door. As the two walk to the back of the room, Ethan’s attention shifts to Kathryn on a step stool mounting the camera in the corner of the room. Sean stands beside her, occasionally handing her a different tool. Ethan looks behind him to see Bob and Wade drill two sheets of silver over the window, only leaving a small sliver of space between them. In the living room, Mark, Tyler, and Amy are gathered, waiting for the others. Soon, Bob and Wade enter the room while giving the three a nod. Eventually, Sean and Kathryn join them as well.

“Everything’s ready,” Kathryn tells them, “now all that’s left is…” Everybody looks over at Mark, he stares at them for a moment. He lets out a nervous breath and looks down.

“Hey.” Tyler puts a hand on his back, causing Mark to look up at him. Tyler shows him a grin. “You can do this.” Mark stares with some shock, not expecting this after all of their disagreement, then he smiles back. They all come in closer for a quick group hug, then separate, allowing Mark to march off the room with a bit more confidence. He walks down the hallway until he reaches the room and stops just before the door. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling some sudden discomfort. It’s probably just his worry getting to him…

Mark spends a moment pushing away any remaining doubt and worry before he approaches the door and sticks his head in. Inside he finds Ethan sitting on the couch staring off into space while fiddling with his fingers. He suddenly notices Mark’s presence and jumps a bit when he sees him at the door. Mark walks into the room, Ethan stares and finds himself freeze in his place. His heart rate rises, the instinct to flee enters his mind, but remembering the advice his friends gave him, he forces himself not to move anything but his eyes. Mark senses the fear he still feels, Mark feels his own heart rate quickens a bit as well. The tension in the room thickens with every step Mark takes. Then Mark clears his throat.

“Uh, hey…” he finally speaks.

“Hi…” Ethan manages to respond, but still looks away as a bit of sweat builds upon his forehead. Mark stops a few inches in front of him, causing him to look back up at him.

“So uh… did you load up on enough food? It’s important to do that ‘cause-”

“I know, Sean told me about that…” Ethan cuts in.

“Well then… are you ready?” Mark awkwardly asks, unsure of what to say. Ethan furrows his eyebrows, suddenly becoming irritated from the question.

“What the heck do you mean? How could I possibly be ready for this?”

“No no, I mean, are you feeling ok? Ethan stands up, his expression growing angrier.

“I haven’t been ok for days, you should know that since you caused this!” Mark’s expression shows a mixture of worry and some sadness.

“No, Ethan, listen-” Ethan takes a step closer and stares Mark in the eyes.

“None of this is ok, especially with what I have to go through tonight! It’s all freaking me the frick out, and I still can’t understand why it happened, or what you were hoping to do. I’m never gonna be ok again because of you…” Ethan’s words felt like a punch to Mark’s face. His heart grows sore as he stands there, feeling so small and useless. Even Ethan felt slightly taken aback, but at the same time, a bit relieved from finally venting. He turns away from Mark and stares at the window, seeing outside slowly grow darker.

“Look…” Mark breaks the silence with a shaky breath, “I can't express enough how terrible I feel for what I did. I didn't imagine there being any consequences in showing you my secret.”

“Then why did you do it? Can you answer that?” Mark looks at the ground, trying his hardest to think of an answer. Before anything else is said, Tyler suddenly appears at the door, gaining the attention of the two.

“Guys, the moon’s rising. I know you both know that Ethan isn't gonna start feeling it until midnight, but I wanted to make sure you guys aren't losing track of time.” The two stare at him for a moment.

”Ok,” Mark breaks the silence, ”let’s get ready.” Ethan sighs to himself and moves himself a few inches away from Mark while crossing his arms.

Outside the room, Kathryn places the laptop on the table. With a little more typing, the camera in the room beeps once and an image of the room appears on the laptop screen. Many in the group let out sighs of relief, then they all walk over to the door of the room. They all show Ethan reassuring smiles and wave their hands goodbye.

“We’ll see you tomorrow…” Ethan forces a smile that quickly fades when the door is pulled close. Sean locks the door with a key and the waiting begins…

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The bright full moon rises in the sky, only a sliver of its light shines into the room through the window. Mark is standing near the door while Ethan paces around the back of the room. Sweat begins to form and coat his skin, due to his rising body temperature and mixed emotions. He occasionally huffs, forcing himself to avoid panicking, but partially fails all the same. The others are watching the laptop, most with looks of worry, others with calm looks, but they all feel equally nervous. The time in the bottom corner of the screen reads 11:50 pm…

“If you feel like it.. maybe you should tell me how you’re feeling?” Ethan looks over at Mark and stares, stoping his pacing for a moment. He lets out a huff and continues moving.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind, and it’s starting to get too hot in here…” Ethan wipes a bit of sweat off of his forehead and stands in the back corner of the room with his back to the wall and his arms crossed. Mark takes a step closer.

“Maybe you should-” Ethan quickly looks at him, causing him to freeze in place.

“Please keep your distance…” Ethan grumbles and turns his attention to the window.

“Ethan, I’m just trying to help you.”

“But I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want to talk to you. I just want this to end!” Ethan shouts as he slams a fist into the wall with a loud bang. He looks at Mark’s surprised, yet very worried expression. He had never witnessed another werewolf on the full moon.

“Try not to think about it so much, thinking will make it worse.” Ethan’s expression becomes even more irritated. Mark feels a little sweat drip down his own forehead and wipes it from his brow.

“You telling me to calm down is making this worse.” Ethan stomps over to the table while pulling his shirt off. He tosses it onto the table and wipes his forehead again. One hand grips the edge of the table as he hunches forward, his pulse and breathing quickening. His senses begin to act up, the constant thumping of what sounded like several drums fills his ears and strange new smells enter his nostrils. His panic continues to grow.

“I.. I can’t breathe…” Ethan manages to get out between huffs. Mark walks closer.

“Just take it easy..”

“Don’t come near me!” Ethan yells, causing Mark to take a step back and stare at him. With a pained grunt and his body now shaking, Ethan leans a bit more forward. His racing heartbeat fills Mark’s ears, along with his own rising heartbeat. Ethan’s expression becomes filled with trauma, he shuts his eyes tight as he feels his insides burn up. With a louder grunt, he drops to his knees. He presses his hands into his temples as he lowers his head and arches his back. His hands grow sore from his fingernails lengthening into claws. His jaws partially separate and stiffen from his canines forming into fangs. He huffs as the pain calms for just a moment, then he grunts, feeling his body begin to tense. He releases his head and sits up a bit while placing a clawed hand onto the table to keep his balance. While doing so, his ears slowly grow pointy and sideburns begin to sprout. His eyes open, revealing a pair of amber orbs in place of his once hazel irises. They look down at his now raised hand, staring in horror at the claws at the end of his fingertips. Ethan suddenly grimaces and curls his fingers, causing the hand on the table to leave small claw marks on its surface. Mark’s heart aches at the sight of his transforming friends, but he then feels a different ache begin to spread throughout his body. A sharp pain shoots through his torso, causing him to wrap an arm around himself. He feels his spine crack and shift around as he stumbles forward with a grunt. He falls to his knees a few feet from Ethan. His hands become tight fists as he lifts his head to let out a pained yell, his canines becoming fangs.

The others stare at the laptop in horror and confusion. Amy gasps “What’s happening to him?” They all watch as the two writhe around and transform, Mark’s wolf features appearing slightly quicker than Ethan’s.

“Why is he turnin’?” Sean asks with wide eyes. They continue to stare, but Tyler looks to the side with his eyebrows furrowed, then looks back with realization all over his face.

“I think I know why…” Everyone else turns to him. “When I worked at the facility, something important they taught us is with enough trauma, werewolves could lose control again, even if they have maintained the best control for years straight. It’s like hitting a restart button... All it takes is a traumatic experience or something that causes strong emotional stress, basically something that’ll mess them up mentally. They taught us this so we could use it to our advantage and come up with ways to expose them or capture them…” The group stares at him with shock.

“Could you tell at all that this would happen to Mark?”

“No, there was no way to tell. It crossed my mind once, but I ignored it caused I figured he would be fine...” They all turn back to the laptop with panic, Mark and Ethan’s screams filling their ears as their voices beginning to sound more animal-like. Ethan looks over at Mark with confusion, but it is quickly blinded by more pain. With fur starting to completely cover his growing body, Ethan shuts his eyes and presses his forehead into the ground throughout the rest of his transformation. Meanwhile, Mark lets out a loud roar as his jaws stretch into a muzzle and his lowered ears move to the top of his head.

Silence fills the house for a few moments. Both boys, now wolves, stay where they are taking in deep breathes as their pain completely disappears. Ethan then slowly lifts himself onto all fours. His chest expands, taking in a great amount of air, he tilts his head to the ceiling and lets out a loud menacing howl, signifying his presence. His howl fills Mark’s now twitching ears. Mark rises onto all fours as well and looks over at Ethan. Mark arches his back and lets out a vicious growl towards Ethan, curling his lips into a snarl to reveal his fangs. His head snaps up at Mark, they stare at each other with their bright yellow eyes. Mark growls once more, causing Ethan to take a step back and growl as well. Without warning, Mark tackles Ethan and they attack each other with their claws

The group stares in horror, Amy is on the verge of tears. The two wolves tear into each other all around the room, knocking the furniture around and filling the room with animalistic snarls. Their swiping claws send each others’ blood splattering around the room and leave claw marks just about everywhere.

“I gotta get in there!” Tyler announces as he grabs the key off of the table and heads for the door to the room. His arm is grabbed by Bob, stopping him in place and causing him to look back at the others walking up to him.

“No, are you crazy? That’s suicide!” Tyler pulls his arm back.

“I’ve dealt with werewolves before, I’ll be alright.” Sean grabs his arm.

”But have ya dealt with two at once, let alone by yourself?”

“We can’t just sit here and let them tear each other apart.” Tyler rushes to the door while Kathryn, Bob, and Wade go back over to the laptop. The others follow Tyler to the door.

“Is it possible to snap Mark out of it?” Wade frantically asks.

“There’s a small chance... but it’s still a chance.” Tyler bangs against the door with a fist.

“Mark! Listen to me, you gotta fight this before you do anything else you’re gonna regret. I know you, something like this can’t bring you back down to this level.” The three at the laptop watch as Ethan momentarily gains the upper hand and shoves Mark against the door. The loud bang causes the group to jump back a bit and the silver on the door burns Mark’s back with a quiet sizzle, causing a quick whimper to escape his maw. Mark stands up straight with his claws ready at his sides. He stares at Ethan with rage and lets out a loud deep roar.

“It’s not working,” Bob shouts. Sean leans against the door.

“Mark, don’t let a mistake you’ve made control you like this. You’re stronger than this and you know it. Come on, man!” Ethan goes to lunge at Mark, but he quickly catches him with his claws digging into his flesh. As Ethan yowls in pain, Mark picks him up and sends him flying across the room. Ethan’s body slams against the silver covered window, then he falls to the ground with a thud. Sean steps back with a sad look, allowing Amy to go up the door as she wipes a tear from her cheek.

“Mark… We can’t fully understand how much this affects you, but we’re still here for you. We hate seeing you go through this and we won’t let you continue to hurt. We know you and we know you can do this because you taught us to stay strong no matter what.” Mark’s snarl slightly calms as his ears twitch and his attention turns to her voice on the other side of the door. Amy presses her forehead against the door, shuts her eyes, allowing more tears to run down her face, and places her hand on the door.

“I love you, Mark… Please come back...” Mark fully faces the door and takes a step closer, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose twitching. Her words linger in his mind as he begins to remember who it is he hears speaking and crying. A woman who matters to him the most…

Mark suddenly grabs his head with a growl and places his other paw on the wall beside the door. He growls some more and shakes his head around, fighting the beast for control. After a moment of silence, Mark releases his head and opens his eyes. He looks at his paw with shock and looks around the room, quickly remembering where he was and what was happening.

“Amy, you did it!” Kathryn exclaims with a surprised smile. Amy pulls her head away from the door with a sniffle and smiles with surprise herself. Suddenly, Mark’s ear twitches when a low growl is heard from the back of the room. Mark quickly turns around to see Ethan rising from the floor. Ethan looks over at him with a vicious snarl.

“Aw man…” Mark says with pity, taking in Ethan’s new form and realizing what he just did to him. Ethan leaps over the couch and claws at Mark. Mark dodges his attacks, knocks Ethan to the ground, and pins him down.

“Sorry about this, bud.” Mark quickly, but hesitantly, raises a fist and punches Ethan’s head, knocking him out cold. Mark releases him and slowly stands on two legs, staring down at his friend with regret and his ears lowered in sadness. He carefully lifts Ethan into his arms and gently places him on the couch. Behind him, Mark hears the door being unlocked. He turns around to see everyone standing there, showing mixed expressions. Amy is standing in front of them, a few tears still left in her eyes. Mark keeps his ears lowered from guilt and turns his head to the side, becoming filled with shame from their shock. Amy walks up to him and gently puts her arms around his torso to hug him. He looks down at her with tears forming in his eyes and wraps his arms around her. Soon they let go of each other and walk out of the room. Amy shuts the door behind them and Tyler locks it up.

“So uh… what now?” Wade asks out loud. The group all looks at each other in silence.

“Now… we continue to wait until morning.” Tyler answers while looking over at Mark to see him nod in response. The group heads for the living room, bringing the laptop with them, already hearing more growls coming from the room.

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Sunlight shines into the room between the sheets of silver. On the floor in front of the couch, which was left torn apart from claw marks and lightly splattered with blood, Ethan, now human again, lies unconscious under a blanket. His body twitches and his eyebrows furrow. His eyes slowly open to see the wooden floor he is laying on. He carefully pushes himself into a sitting position and his eyes take in his surroundings. The claw marks in the walls, floor, and furniture. The occasional splatters of blood spread out throughout the room. The bits of couch stuffing scattered across the floor. He lifts himself off of the floor and shuffles over to the couch to sit, the blanket wrapped around him with only his head and legs sticking out. His attention suddenly fixes on the door when he hears it unlock. It opens to reveal Mark on the other side, with a new pair of clothes and a nervous expression.

“Morning…” Mark finally speaks. Ethan just stares with a slightly tired look, then turns his head away.

“Hey…” he responds. Mark steps into the room and stands in front of him. Mark stares while carefully figuring out what to say. Ethan avoids his eyes and stares at the floor, remembering the unbearable pain of transforming, but struggling to remember even a second of being a wolf.

“Are… are you feeling ok?...”

“Just.. sore, and kind of groggy…” Mark feels the tension that still remains and sighs.

“I.. I never wanted to scare you or hurt you, and I never imagined that you’d think I would…” Ethan’s eyes slowly go from the floor to Mark’s hurt face that is now staring at the ground. “I just wanted to show you how much I trust you by revealing my biggest secret to you, but I didn’t think it would backfire. I just didn’t think enough, and I hate myself for doing so... I never imagined anything like what happened would happen, and now you have to suffer what I went through years ago… I get it if you don’t see me as the same guy or you don’t trust me anymore.. but if it means anything, I really am sorry…” Ethan stares, feeling pity for Mark that he hadn’t felt for a while. Mark contemplates leaving the room and giving Ethan some space and time to process last night’s events.

“Mark… I may have overreacted a bit, but you aren’t wrong, what you did was kind of too much of a shocker for me. When you’re like me, and never once in your life did you actually question if something beyond your understanding exists, you don’t know what to think or what to do when it’s suddenly presented to you… And I just couldn’t react correctly, and basically, fight or flight kicked in...” Mark lifts his head to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot…” Mark looks away again.

“No.. you just… you made a mistake, and so did I.” Ethan immediately responds, a waving hand coming out of the blanket to stop and reassure Mark.

“Look, Ethan… I can’t do anything to cure you, but I can help train you.” Ethan slightly raises a brow while staring up at him. “You could stay here for a few days, or however long it might take. Sean, Tyler, and I know how to help you get through the nights and eventually get used to turning. And mostly everyone else will be around to comfort you. We can help you, but only if you want our help.” Ethan looks at the floor, thinking long and hard about his words. He then looks back at Mark.

“..I’ll stay, but it may take me a little while to get used to being around you.”

“I understand.. I’m just glad we can kind of make amends,” Mark says with a smile

“...Me too.” Ethan smiles back. Their attention suddenly turns to the door as the others walk in one by one with smiles and looks of relief. They all stand around the couch, Ethan smiles at all of them.

“Welcome to the pack,” Wade decides to joke. Bob quickly nudges him with an elbow.

“Shut up,” he says. The others respond with a bit of giggling. Ethan stands and keeps the blanket wrapped around him. Everyone stares at him for a moment.

“I’m just relieved that the full moon is finally said and done with,” Ethan sighs with relief, but the others’ faces sort of drop a bit.

“Well, ya did get through last night, but now you have to get through tonight as well..” Sean tells him. Ethan raises an eyebrow. “What?” he asks in confusion.

“You see, when you're a new werewolf,” Mark gets Ethan’s attention, ”after your first full moon, you're gonna transform every night until start to gain a bit more control. Even before then, you have to at least gain consciousness in your wolf form so you don't tear everything apart every night.” Ethan stares with wide eyes, then blinks

“...Is that all?” he fearfully asks.

“Not by a long shot, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, we gotta focus on the first few stages.”

“And we also gotta focus on you getting your control back, ” Tyler directs to Mark.

“Yeah, that too…” Mark sighs.

“Alright,” Amy announces, “we all have lots to do, but why don’t we all enjoy a meal first?” The group smiles at each other as they all exit the room.

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Hope you enjoy! =3

@markiplier @crankgameplays @paperbaghero @sandinthetardis @chainsthatbindthisrouletteofmine

#Wolfiplier #Wolftober #Markiplier #CrankGameplays #Mark and Ethan

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rpmemesbyarat · 4 years

Conversation

RP Meme from Netflix's "A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Reptile Room : Part One"

Woe is me. Woe is me.

The cry you're hearing is that of the broken-hearted crocodile. It is a rare species of reptile found in swampy regions that are particularly sad.

There is no reason for you to make yourself as miserable and melancholy as I am.

It had been a disaster. It had been a catastrophe.

It's ginger, I believe.

Well, this is perfect timing because I have just finished frosting this delicious coconut cream cake.

I don't like fancy titles unless they get me a discount at the movies.

Do you like going to the movies?

What is your favorite movie?

Would you like a piece of cake?

Well, that leaves one extra slice of cake.

I know. I'll eat it myself.

My screeching iguana clock does tend to startle some people. But then, so, of course, does the screeching iguana.

Frankly, that man ruffles my scales.

That is astonishing.

I can't believe your parents never told you about me.

I loved them dearly. Look, here's a picture of us.

Do you know what "herpetology" means?

Why, I'm so giddy having you here that I might as well be talking gibberish.

I am about to show you one of the most important scientific collections in the history of the world.

This door has been installed with top-of-the-line security system.

You can't get inside unless you have 19 keys, three combinations, two fingerprints and one optical scan.

Feel free to explore.

Can it really fly?

When it becomes absolutely overwhelming, it is useful to stop for a moment of contemplation, uh, with a cup of tea or some other powerful beverage.

Get the snake!

I told you we couldn't trust him.

You're laughing?

It's a misnomer. Do you know what that means?

Why would you give your own discovery the wrong name?

Payback for years of ridicule.

Are there any snakes in this room that are dangerous?

I have an entire cabinet full of venom samples from some of the most venomous snakes known to man. And woman.

The deepest secrets of the snake world can be found in these pages.

You are not only allowed, you are implored to read these books.

You know, I always wanted to have a family of my own.

Ah, thank you. I'm so grateful.

Well, I'm gonna go into town and pick up a few things that I like to keep in stock. Wasp repellent, canned peaches, a fireproof canoe.

What movie are we seeing?

I have a feeling there are many things that you're going to see that you've never heard of before.

Life is a conundrum of esoterica.

There we go. Come along.

Those hedges outside make up a labyrinth.

It's a mark of villainy.

Things aren't always as they seem.

Something strange is going on here.

You wouldn't dare.

Let's not discuss what I would or would not dare do.

Open this door!

We can't just stay here and wait for him to burst in and slaughter us.

He must have some scheme. I just don't know what it could be.

Well, that is an unusual and long-winded explanation.

Well, seems everything is settled, then.

Well, why don't you go upstairs and get yourself settled?

Are those suitcases alligator skin?

I really love reptiles

So, you see, there's nothing to be worried about.

I got all my shopping done and I even brought takeout for dinner.

I had no idea that our enemies would catch up to us so quickly.

It's clear now that I can't turn my back for a second.

He can wear as many lab coats as he wants, and present me with as many ridiculous papers as he wants, he's no more a lab assistant than I'm a three-mouth Brazilian waxed turtle.

A man that dastardly must be watched like a hawk.

That's all we're gonna do? Keep an eye on him?

I seem to have been very careless with the heavy glass reading lamp that was in my bedroom that fell out right when you were walking under it.

He wasn't being careless. He was being murderous.

I know what I'm doing.

I don't think I'll be joining tonight.

In all honesty, I prefer long-form television to the movies.

It's so much more convenient to consume entertainment

from the comfort of your own home.

Well, I insist you come.

I insist upon staying here.

With all due respect, I feel a little uncomfortable

I would like to make a brief phone call before we leave.

I don't know anything about mouth sores.

Oh! I love this song!

I just thought it might be nice to get out and see a movie.

I need more exciting things in my life. And I think it's because my life is boring.

I decided to treat myself to some popcorn because there is nothing exciting happening in my life at all.

Some popcorn actually sound delicious.

I get popcorn for me, for all of us. My treat.

Seventh row, right of center, that is the best place.

There's more to a movie than just a movie.

If the movie's in English, why are there English subtitles?

All the best movies have subtitles.

I'm watching the movie!

No! Where is your conscience?

You're a tasty treat

I promise this isn't goodbye.

Put on this warm scarf

You're blocking the screen!

Go that way.

I hope you didn't miss anything.

I think you-know-who is trying to send a you-know-what.

Is there anything else I should know?

You look handsome in that beard.

What did I miss?

Oh, boy, they're still singing.

I am going to need to excuse myself.

Pictures today. So violent.

Surely nothing can spoil this happy and festive occasion.

Well, that is where I shall bury you.

Things must be worse than we thought.

Well, wish me luck, old friend.

Whatever shall we do next?

It's been a long night and we have a very busy day tomorrow.

Did you enjoy the movie?

It was unusual.

Uh, it will require some further explanation.

I am your guardian.

It is my job and my delight, might I add, to keep you safe.

Do you think you can just waltz into my life, and the life of my children, and perpetuate this treachery?

You don't know my real name?

I don't need to know your real name.

Can you hear what they're saying?

You have found out my secret identity.

I've been outsmarted.

Now be gone.

I said be gone!

The authorities are on their way.

We are off to Peru.

It's a wonderful country

Well, once we disembark in Chimbote, you will have all the answers you need.

Well, it's a good thing I stocked up on peaches and canoes.

You never know when you might need to leave the country in a moment's notice.

First one to find one gets to name it.

We have a squidillion things to do tomorrow and a boat to catch.

#rp memes #rp meme #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #rp starters #a series of unfortunate events

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heythrrdelilah · 5 years

Text

Hot cocoa (Sam Winchester x Reader, Holiday)

Request: @winchester-fantasies says: Hey! I was just looking at your holiday prompts, and I was wondering if you'd do the one where your house gets robbed before the holidays with Sam? I don't care if he's a neighbor or friend or whether it's Thanksgiving or Christmas. I'm not picky!! As always, I love your writing!! ❤❤

A/N: first of all, thank you so much for saying you love my writing! That means a lot to me! Second, personally I love this prompt so I'm going to have a bit of fun with it, so it might be shorter than expected, I hope you do not mind. Why are all my story titles beverages? 😂 sorry this took so long it's the holidays and finals soon. Do you guys want mood boards?

Word count: 1, 175

Warnings/tags: fluff, robbery, crying

Pairings: Sam x Reader , Dean

The hot chocolate in your hand warmed up your entire world on a day like this. A day that began seemingly normal, even when the temperature plummeted. It was normal for your town to freeze over suddenly the day before christmas, this is what caused your splurge on a hot cocoa this morning before work. Normally, you would go for a coffee, but why not be festive? You were working on christmas eve, you deserved this. You agreed to finish editing the piece on town hall by tonight, otherwise you would have been bundled up at home.

On your way home, you gripped onto your hot chocolate with one hand, and the steering wheel with the other. You were excited to be home for the rest of the day. As you pulled into your driveway you fantasized about turning your heater on, sitting by the fireplace with more hot cocoa, watching the Santa Clause series on Disney+ for the 10th time in a month. You would be wrapped up in the fuzziest blanket you owned, fuzzy socks to pair. It was a fantasy you needed to become a reality.

You parked your car in your garage and walked inside your home with a hopeful mindset. This, however, was crushed instantly.

Your heart sank to your feet, which now felt like cement to the floor. Everything was empty. Your living room looked like it had when you moved in, empty. You hadn’t had any decorations up or anything special because it was just you, but you had furniture. Well, up until now. Your back door was the source of the sudden chill up your spine. The glass was broken clear off of the sliding door. Your couch was missing, however you could see the faint mark it left on your carpet, the bristles pushed down where it had sat before. The same went for your entertainment center. The stove had been ripped out of your kitchen, leaving dust and crumbs in its place. You managed to lift the dead weight of your feet long enough to place your cup on the counter. This gave you vision of the empty glass cabinet that used to hold your late parents china sets.

You felt a tear run down your ice cold cheeks, too shocked to feel the emotion yet. You picked up your phone, immediately dialling the police.

About ten minutes later, where you stood frozen in shock, a police car came knocking on your front door. You swallowed up the fear and smiled at the blonde when you opened the door. “Thanks for coming,” you stepped to the side, allowing him to pass by you. He was tall, in uniform, and shocked by what he had seen. This was a small town, this never happens. “Why didn’t you just call me directly? I called Sam by the way. He’s on his way,” Dean, the officer so happened to be your best friends brother, placed an arm on your shoulder before looking around your home. It was a small town, therefore, you should have known it would be Dean on duty at this time. “Dean, that isn’t necessary-” You were cut off by the front door opening once more.

The tall moose of a man you called your best friend walked right in, wrapping you in his muscular arms. They acted as a shield. Sam eyed the room around you, for a moment, you could see sadness in his eyes. “Listen, (y/n), you are staying with us until we get this figured out. This is not okay. We wanted you to spend christmas with us anyways,” The tall muscular man smiled down at you, trying to be comforting. You smiled up at him, “Well, it would have given me at least one day of peace.” Then a sudden realization came to your mind: The presents. You rushed up the stairs and to your closet. You threw the door open in a hurry and realized, everything was gone. Sure, you didn’t have any family to give gifts to, but you had the Winchesters, Jody, Bobby, and even people at work. You loved to give, however this was now ruined. You spend thousands on christmas this year because of your bonus. Now, everything was gone. In a blink of an eye, thousands of dollars were gone. You fell to your knees and let out a stream of tears, no one was up here to see, so you let it all out.

Footsteps came from the hall, so you quickly wiped your face and stood up. “y/n, you don’t have to hide your emotions all of the time,” Sam stated, placing a hand gently on your back. You turned to him and let yourself force a smile. “I’m fine, Sam. Lets just… go,” You would pack clothes, however the robbers took those too. It was unusual, but not uncommon, according to Dean.

“Get her home, I’ll be home in time for dinner,” Dean stated, pushing the button on his walkie talkie, calling in other officers. “We will find out who did this. You’re family,” He states before pushing you and Sam out of your door. You got in your car, following sam to the Winchesters home. When you got inside, you took in the warm air like it was a soothing blanket after a rough day like this one. You walked over to the couch and let out a sigh. You had been here many times before and felt just as at home here as you would at your own home. You kicked off your shoes and pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Sam walked in, carding the fleece blanket you claimed as yours from week one of knowing the Winchesters. He wrapped it around your shoulders before sitting next to you. He flipped the switch on his remote for the fireplace then turned on Disney+. "Listen, we don't have to talk about anything. Just… watch your Santa clause movies and then we can make hot chocolate, extra toasted marshmallows for you," Sam spoke, wrapping his arms around you. He was genuinely sweet.

After an hour of the Santa clause and being two cups of hot chocolate deep, regretting the calories, you and sam were cuddled on the couch. "Thank you, for everything. After my parents passed you and Dean became my family… you two are all I have now. I couldn't thank you enough," You spoke quietly, looking up at him. Sam put a curled finger under your chin and smiled down at you. Before he could say anything, you kissed him. Everyone knew that Sam and You had been flirtatious and liked each other, you were tired of holding back.

His returned kiss was intense and gentle all the same. He felt the same way you did. The way his soft lips moved in sync with yours became intoxicating. The only thing that separated the two of you was the door opening. "Fucking finally!" Dean shouted, throwing a boxed pie on the coffee table.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Échappé / Chapter 8 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon

A/N: So this is gonna be sexy times, mixed with sad times, aka regular lesbian hours. Yep. Okay.

AO3 Link

Chapter 8

Vanessa woke up in a bed that wasn’t hers. The cool duvet felt nice around her naturally hot body. The pillow, filled with some exotic bird’s feathers, was soft against her cheek. Her own bedding didn’t feel as comfortable. Those were definitely not hers. She was going to freak out, check her surroundings, find a way home; but not just yet. Her first instinct was to sink deeper into the gazillion thread count and enjoy the luxuries of a blanket that hadn’t become stiff with all the washing and drying, and a pillow that hadn’t deflated after being used for years.

Her limbs stretched in every direction, her lips stretching into a content smile. The smell of coffee reached her nostrils and a sigh escaped her softly.

It had been a long time since she found herself in a situation like this. She was pretty wild when she was a teen, and had woken up in strangers’ houses more often than she would like to admit. The mattresses had never felt that good, though.

Even if rusty, she still knew the procedure. First thing on the list was finding out where she was and who she had spent the night with, everything else would pan out after that.

She moved her eyes around the room. Everything looked clean and organized. There was nothing homey about it, no family pictures in frames or quirky decorations. It was most likely a hotel. That was when it hit her.

Brooke.

She had spent the night with Brooke, in the condo she had rented during her stay in Los Angeles. That was why the room looked so generic. Although, Vanessa had to wonder if that was how Brooke kept her own place.

Throwing the covers to the side, Vanessa allowed the slightly colder atmosphere, created by the air conditioner, to envelope her naked body. Small goosebumps appeared on her skin at the change of temperature. Her nipples reacted right away, growing hard immediately. She brought her own hands to rest on her breasts, trying to warm them up with her palms, unsuccessfully. They burned slightly, maybe from the cold, maybe from the harsh treatment they received the night before, or early morning, rather. Looking down, she noticed the red dots all across her chest, little love bites that marked her as Brooke’s. Vanessa had never liked hickeys, they were tacky and degrading. The need to flag someone as taken showed nothing but jealousy, fueled by insecurities. This time, she found them… erotic.

The burst blood vessels were right below the cleavage line, invisible to the world. Surely, they would heal in the next couple of days, when she had to go back to work. For the time being, they were just hers.

Pieces of clothing were scattered around the room; she went around picking them up, but she soon remembered the other garments that had been discarded on their way to the bedroom. There was a red robe draped on the back of an individual sofa. Vanessa figured Brooke had left it there for her. She put it on, the delicate fabric hugging her with its softness. Then, she saw the towel. She could use a shower.

The bathroom was big, probably as big as her room. It was nice. Once again, she made the decision to enjoy the moment and took her sweet time under the water spray. She tried every floral shampoo bottle on the shelves, and clean her body with bars of exfoliating soaps that hurt more than sooth her skin. Even then, she had a smile on her face. It felt good to treat herself like that, to rid her skin of all dead cells, to lather her hair with scented conditioner. She deserved that. She was worthy of a shower head with just the right amount of pressure, with water that reached just the right temperature.

She was worthy of being treated the way Brooke had intended to right from the start. Vanessa didn’t even know why she had rejected Brooke so much. Since the moment they met, Brooke offered to help her, to provide the financial aid she needed, and Vanessa had refused to even listen. She was too proud to accept the money, no matter how badly the center needed it.

They clearly lived in completely different worlds. Vanessa had lost count of how many times she felt like she didn’t belong. Whenever Brooke invited her to step into a small part of her life, Vanessa had immediately realized she didn’t fit. She didn’t want to fit. She liked her life, she liked being banjee. Because being from the hood meant no expectations. Nobody would want her to do or be more than the stripper that she was. She was good at it, she was praised for it, she could handle it.

Then came Brooke, who saw something in her, something she hadn’t even seen in herself. Brooke told her she was talented, that she could do greater things than taking her clothes off, that she was meant to be so much more. Vanessa hadn’t believed her, but because it was scary. Stepping into the unknown was not in her. She was okay with staying inside of her bubble, in her comfort zone, where she knew what she had to do and knew how to do it well. There was no need for more. And Brooke meant more. Brooke had made her feel more things than any other person. Brooke had walked into her life, literally out of nowhere, and turned it upside down in the best possible way. Vanessa could already feel her heart abandoning her chest and finding safety in Brooke’s soft hands. Hands and lips and legs that had made Vanessa touch the early morning orange sky. They hadn’t just had sex, they had made love in the only way that two souls meant to be together knew how to. She gave herself to Brooke fully and completely and, maybe for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid.

If the magical dawn they shared, if all those expensive bottles of soap, were just a taste of what being with Brooke could be, maybe she could give it a try. She felt ready to let go.

By the time she was done playing with the cleansing products, and the existential crisis had been tamed, she stepped out of the cubicle and into the warmth of a white cloud of steam.

She dried herself, placed the robe back on, and shook the water out of hair, leaving it to dry by itself.

Vanessa found Brooke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, elbow propped on her hip as she supported a cup of coffee. She wore a robe similar to Vanessa’s but in purple, it was mostly opened at the chest, revealing the valley between her breasts. The other hand held her phone close to her face. So close that her eyes squinted, trying to get a better view of the content in the device. First came a small smile and then Vanessa found herself giggling softly. If they had met in another life, years, decades before, Vanessa figured she would have found Brooke reading the newspaper, maybe a forgotten cigarette resting in an ashtray next to her.

“Hey, Mami,” Vanessa snaked her arms around Brooke’s waist, stepping right into her space and forcing her attention to abandon the phone completely.

“Hi, baby.” Brooke smiled sweetly, before reaching down to place a soft kiss on Vanessa’s lips. “Oh, I’m sorry about these,” she said as a finger traced the misshaped marks of her own lips on Vanessa’s chest.

“Nah, don’t worry about them. I kinda like them, actually.” She smiled up at Brooke, who didn’t miss the chance to kiss her again.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Okay?” Vanessa asked in mocked surprise. “The last time I slept that good was at the womb, bitch.”

Brooke laughed openly, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “We don’t have to do anything today but sleep, if that’s all you wanna do.”

“I have better ideas in mind. Thank you very much, Miss Thing.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Vanessa stretched her neck to fully capture Brooke’s lips with her own. She tasted the coffee and faint touches of that cigarette she had imagined. Brooke’s tongue wasn’t as smooth as the night before. The tiny buds scraped the inside of Vanessa’s mouth, after being struck by the hot beverage. It didn’t bother her. Vanessa was enjoying the mixture of the soft pink lips, and the roughness of Brooke’s tongue. A moan escaped Vanessa as she lost herself in the textures attacking her mouth at once.

Heads moved side to side as the kiss found a rhythm of its own. Their mouths knew exactly how to work together in perfect synchrony. Hands ran over the soft fabric of the robes, trying to make contact with any available bit of skin.

Suddenly, the sound of a cellphone, coming from the living room, stopped their hot makeout session.

“Leave it,” Brooke ordered in a soft whisper, recognizing the ringing device to be Vanessa’s.

Vanessa pressed her body hard against Brooke’s, trapping her between her tiny frame and the cabinets behind her. Taking advantage of the loose robe, Vanessa’s hand seemed to have a mind of its own and moved to cup Brooke’s breast. She pinched the nipple hard, forcing Brooke to stop the kissing to release a loud grunt. That gave Vanessa the green light to continue. She undid the poorly tied knot and pushed the robe down Brooke’s body.

Brooke was all porcelain skin and tight muscles. Vanessa let her fingers ghost across the protuberant ribcage, down the small waist and rested her open palms on the fleshy hips. She looked straight into Brooke’s eyes, the green crystal-like pupils pulled her like the weakest metal.

“You are gorgeous,” Vanessa whispered. “So stupidly gorgeous.” She connected her lips to Brooke’s neck as she complimented her beauty over and over, just like she had wanted to do since the day before. Her lips traveled down, dropping butterfly kisses on the way, until her knees hit the floor. “I think I’m gonna have a little taste of Brooklyn this fine morning.” She laughed against Brooke’s skin, her joke sounding hilarious to her own ears.

Brooke visibly went through several layers of sensual fog, until she was able to gather the strength to open her eyes and found Vanessa’s stare. “It’s Brooke Lynn,” she stated.

The look of surprise was surely written all over Vanessa’s face, because she had no idea where that comment had come from. “What you bitching about up there?”

“It’s Brooke Lynn,” the same words were repeated, as if the more Brooke said them, the more sense they were going to make. “You keep calling me Brooklyn, like the city, ever since the day we met. That’s not my name. I’ve been meaning to say something, but the time never seemed appropriate.”

“And you think this is?!”

Vanessa didn’t give her a chance to reply, her hands took hold of Brooke’s butt and pushed her towards her face. She immediately found Brooke’s most sensitive spot and ran her tongue against it. Just as expected, Brooke dropped the subject, nothing but groans of pleasure left her lips after that. Vanessa made sure to really take care of her, to treat her like the queen that she was. Her ears paid extra attention to every reaction, tuning into Brooke’s desires and pleasing her exactly the way she wanted to be pleased.

Soon, Brooke’s leg was up on the counter, giving room for Vanessa to move freely. Brooke was intoxicating, and Vanessa had already become an addict. The taste, the smell, the feeling, there was nothing about making love to Brooke with her mouth that Vanessa didn’t like. She kissed and licked and sucked, even after her lips went numb. Her mouth proved to be unable to separate from Brooke, not when she was responding so openly to her.

Brooke being so vocal about what she felt, about how much she liked it, about wanting more, only increased Vanessa’s want for her. She came first, without even being touched. Brooke’s hand pulling at her hair, the loud moaning, and the hips thrusting against her face, were enough to push her over the edge. She allowed Brooke to fuck her face for as long as she needed, until she found her climax. Vanessa pressed her tongue against Brooke as she came, and licked her clean of her orgasm, feeling her shake in the aftershock of pleasure.

Her joints cracked when Brook brought her leg back down, her sore muscles complaining at the uncomfortable position.

“That wa… Oh, God… I just, I don’t think I have ever cum so hard.” Brooke took hold of the marvel countertop, trying to find something to ground her from the spinning of the room. “I’m literally shaking.”

Vanessa stood up, chuckling, feeling proud of herself. She used the short sleeve of the robe to clean her face. She felt wetness all around her mouth, dripping down from her chin. “It was my ple–”

Before she could finish her sentence, the ringing of the phone found her ears again.

“Come,” Brooke took Vanessa’s hand, pulling her out of the kitchen. “Let me pay you back.” The look on her face left no room for interpretation, her intentions were as clear as the day outside.

The insisting device made Vanessa stop in her tracks. “Just lemme virtually flip off whoever the fuck is interrupting the sex fest.”

Brooke bit her bottom lip in anticipation. She made an act of dropping the robe again, letting it pool at her ankles, and theatrically lifting her feet to step away from it. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Vanessa watched the perfectly round ass swaying side to side as Brooke sensually walked into the bedroom. Vanessa felt a grunt coming out from the bottom of her lungs as she practically ran to the living room.

When she fished the phone out of her purse, it was no longer ringing. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the name next to the seventeen missed calls. She quickly swiped on the notification to return the call. Nothing could have prepared her for the devastated voice that picked up on the first ring.

“Vanessa, where were you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Elena, baby, I’m here. I’m here. ¿Qué pasó?”

There was silence on the other end of the line, she called Elena’s name but got no response. Vanessa looked at the screen, the timer of the call was still going, letting her know they hadn’t been disconnected. Then came a heartbreaking sob. Elena cried on her side of the line, no words would come from her, only heavy breathing as tears punched the air out of her. Vanessa didn’t know what to do, she kept requesting an explanation, whispered promises that everything was going to be okay, even when she didn’t know what was going on. She begged Elena to talk to her, as silent tears ran down her own cheeks.

“Elena, you are scaring me,” she finally confessed. She knew that, no matter what was happening on the other side of the call, Vanessa needed to be strong for the girl. She needed to become the pillar Elena could lean on and find unwavering support. “Talk to me, niña.”

A shaky breath answered her request before actual words were spoken. “It-it’s… my mom,” Elena exhaled with a struggle. “She– Vanessa, she wasn’t moving,” the tone of her voice when up an octave and, suddenly, she was spitting what happened in a freaked out rush. “I didn’t know what to do. She wouldn’t wake up. I called an ambulance, but grandma said we don’t have insurance so she cancelled it. Miguel drove us to the hospital. She’s been in there for hours, nobody tells me what’s going on or how she’s doing and my grandma is pissed for all the money this is gonna cost.”

Vanessa was already running around the living room, finding her underwear and tucking it under her arm. “Okay, don’t worry, baby, I’m on my way. Send me your location and I’ll be right there.” She entered the bedroom, not even glancing at the naked Brooke who waited for her spread on the bed, and went inside the bathroom. “Have you eaten anything?” She didn’t have to see it, she knew Elena was shaking her head. “Go to the cafeteria and get something, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Okay,” Elena whispered.

“Hey,” Vanessa called her attention, stopping in her own franatict state. “I’ve got you, okay? It’s gonna be fine.”

There was a sniff, and surely one more head shake, before Elena responded. “I… I don’t wanna go with her. Please, don’t let her take me away. I don’t wanna–”

“You won’t!” Vanessa stated firmly, interrupting Elena’s cries. “I said I’ve got you. Now, go eat. I’m on my way. Love you, kid.”

“Love you, too.”

The line went silent and the screen on the phone went black. Vanessa stood still, in the middle of the vast bathroom, trying to remember how to make air reach her lungs properly. She ran a hand through her hair, the tangled curls stopping her fingers from doing so. It was frustrating. She tugged at the roots, feeling the stinging of her scalp, her lips projecting an exasperated groan. Things simply couldn’t just be okay around her, everything had to get complicated, and twisted, and fucked up. Just when she had been able to find a peaceful moment in space and time, the universe had to find a way to laugh at her face and screw up her wonderful day with Brooke.

Brooke.

Vanessa turned around, her body shaking with uncertainty, but sure that she had to talk to Brooke. She was already there, wrapped in a thin sheet, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Is everything okay?” Brooke knew it wasn’t, she had gathered as much, but there probably wasn’t any other way to start the conversation.

Vanessa shook her head, allowing her body to fall heavily on the closed lid of the toilet. “Elena… her mom… she’s a drug addict, she parties too much. Elena found her unconscious and a neighbor took them to the hospital. A hospital that they can’t pay for. She’s there, confused, dealing with all of this, with her grandma that is a total asshole and abuses her every time she can.”

Tears ran down her cheeks again, her voice laced with pain, with helplessness.

Brooke walked to her, the sheet forgotten by the door. She embraced Vanessa in the warmth of her naked body, but there was nothing sexual in her actions. She allowed Vanessa to cry inside her arms, hot droplets wetting the skin of her breasts. It lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like hours, endless hours of Vanessa pouring her heart out in the shape of tears. Brooke held Vanessa as she crumbled down and turned into a big wet puddle of nothing; rubbed her back as she slowly took the broken pieces one by one and glued them back together.

“She can use my credit card,” Brooke offered once she felt Vanessa’s breathing stabilizing. “Put everything on it.”

She removed her head from Brooke’s chest, looking at her with big brown eyes. “The hospital prices are gonna be insane, child.”

“I don’t care,” Brooke assured her, her fingers working the knots of Vanessa’s hair. “I’ll call Ben, he can take you to the hospital, and bring you back. I’ll let the landlady know, both of you can stay here for as long as you need.”

Vanessa stood up, her hands extended in front of herself. “Hold it. Ben can take me? This means you ain’t coming?”

“I can’t. I have a lot of things to do, and I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Her bare feet stomped against the tiled floor in frustration, Vanessa suddenly growing angry. “You said we had all day just this morning, bitch. Oh-oh, I get it. You only have time when it’s sex time. You selfish like that. Alright, alright. I see it.”

Brooke let out a sarcastic huff. She walked back into the bedroom, Vanessa could do nothing but stare at the defined muscles of her back. “I’m willing to pay for all the medical bills of the alcoholic, drug-addict mother of a girl I don’t even know. Tell me how’s that selfish.”

“You do know her!” Vanessa yelled from behind her. “Her name’s Elena, you’ve had talked to her, you’ve had lunch with her, you even fucking danced with her. So don’t come to me and say you don’t know her!”

With the phone in one hand, and her credit card in the other, Brooke stopped cold in her tracks. She stood there with her mouth opened in shock. “Hey, you are not angry at me, remember? I’m just here trying to help.”

“You are trying to throw money at us, like you have been doing right from the start. We are not one more of your million charity cases, hoe.”

“This is unbelievable.” Brooke rolled her eyes, dismissing Vanessa’s words.

Fully clothed by this point, Vanessa stood right in front of Brooke, looking up at her with anger in her eyes. “Once you get your head out of your ass, you are gon’ believe it.” She shook her head before storming out of the room.

Brooke chased after Vanessa, her long legs allowing her to walk at a slower pace. “Hey, come back here. This is not over.”

Without stopping, Vanessa lifted her hand above her head and showed her middle finger. “Goodbye, Miss Brooklyn,” she said as she walked through the front door.

“It’s Brooke Lynn!” Brooke pointlessly yelled at the closed door of her rented condo.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #smut #lesbian au #dance au #echappe #dendenmonmon #submission

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

A Taste of Home

CHAPTER 2

Catch up on Chapter 1

(many hugs, and thank you's to @miidailyinspiration for the help on my face claim for Amelia. You’ve helped put my indecisive mind to rest, love!)

Casual, but not sloppy. Sophisticated, but not stuffy. This was no ordinary to-do, and you weren’t about to make light of the situation at hand.

To add to stresses of attire, your mother had found the whole thing to be so “cute,” and some twisted little cell of her excitement thought it a necessity to call his mother and cackle about the nostalgia of it all.

By some circumstances you were unsure of, your cell number had somehow fallen into his lap, and the day you were supposed to head towards to outskirts of the Boston tree line, he had texted you details.

C: Picking up a bottle of wine for tonight. Preference? You name it.

Y/N: How about a red?

C: Anything for the guest of honor. See you around 8!

Attached to his last reply, was a syrup sweet selfie that made you want to punch someone just to kill off some of the nauseating lovability, of he and the famous pup you’d seen often on his socials.

You didn’t know where to begin with preparation, nor exactly what to prepare for, and the day passed on like the speed of a changing season so your mental torture could lag on. A quick color and blow-out at the salon was never a wrong turn, and a trip to the mall couldn’t hurt matters.

Silencing your phone, and securing the doors of your car with two deeps, your knees wobbled like a feeble fawn towards the front steps. It was extravagant, but not in an “I’m better than you” type of way, and it’s woodsy endearment was the coziness your nerves needed.

Taking the steps one by one, hearing a dogs roaring bark behind the solid oak of his front door, a thought was conceived.

Was this… a booty call? Do people even know what that is anymore? Had you been invited to the quiet forest around his home, to glug too much wine, stroll down memory lane, and wind up on your back?

The more troubling conclusion, being you weren’t sure the idea sounded half bad….

There’d have to be some self-respect. Your shambling life left no room for any more error, and you wouldn’t fall into such handsome traps that easily.

Using the pane of glass that lined the entry as a reflection check, the door was pulled open, letting the interior nose of music and galloping steps of Dodger loose.

You cursed mentally when you stuck your hand inside the lining of your light jacket to feel the mint still wrapped that you had forgotten to chew on the drive over.

The handsome pups’ leash was held onto by an even more handsome man, and both of them seem quite eager to greet you. However, one more interested in sniffing around your shoes and backside.

“Woah, Dodge! Let’s mind our manners, boy.” His owner laughed with squinted eyes.

He met you with an unexpected, one arm embrace. His fingers snuck under the hem of your breezy springtime cardigan, and rested sprawled across the silk camisole covering the small of your back. Your cheeks brushed together at the ensuing of his gentle, platonic kiss to your face, and his beard felt softer than you would’ve imagined.

“Glad you could sneak away to hang out.”

“Thanks for the invitation. This place is stunning.” You barely recognized your own voice as it’s tone stuttered and dropped into some weird, sad excuse for seductive key.

Jealous at how effortlessly he could barely graze your skin and have you wanting to shout his name in an explicit context, you rustled your hair to swing its vanilla scented sweetness toward him, trying your own much more forced hand at seduction.

With smiling eyes, he gestured you through the front door, leading the way into the foyer. The simple brightness of its monochromatic scheme added an appealing cleanliness and homey feel. A grand piano was nestled near the fireplace, and a candle of spicy sweetness flickered on the white mantle as you heard Dodgers leash clang against a metal coat rack.

“Do you still play?” You asked running a finger over the glossy top of the black instrument positioned on a patterned rug.

His skinned turned red behind the protection of his grizzly beard, and he squeezed his palm to the back of his neck. The loose cotton of his shirt teased up his belly, gifting you with the sight of a meaty, perfectly exercised torso. Your eyes dilated with zealous desire at the way a trail of light hair trailed beneath the band of his relaxed blue jeans.

“I do, yeah. Badly, but I do. I don’t get as much practice as I’d like. Get me drunk enough & maybe I’ll play you something.”

Still the same old guy. The tortured musician with a home on the stage, and a healthy liking to beer.

“Speaking of, I’m heading to the kitchen for a drink. Glass of wine?” He walked in reverse down the hall, offering you up a beverage.

“Sounds perfect. It better not be the cheap shit either, Evans. I know how you operate.” You bit your tongue at the bold banter of your sarcasm. But, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know your true colors. He’d known you since school age, and if he was willing to still speak to your after your raging ugly-duckling stages of junior high, surely he could handle a witty tongue.

When he disappeared behind the wall of the kitchen and glasses clinked, and the cabinets slammed, you helped yourself to sight seeing around the empty den. Photos of he and castmates, his nephews and nieces school portraits, and some exquisite artwork decorated the walls, alongside the glorious steel shield you’d seen on the big screen. The life of riches, and fame hadn’t rotted through to who he really was yet it seemed, and you admired the simplicity of his private life.

“I’ll let you touch it for the right price,” he snuck in undetected from the left, long-stem swirling in one hand, and an already half-empty beer bottle in the other.

You eagerly grasped at the wine he had poured for you, desperately pining for something to center your weak knees from his closeness. Grazing across his full fingertips, your hormones began to dance.

“Excuse you?” For a brief moment, unsure of what exactly his cheeky comment suggested, you coughed in shock.

“The shield, Amelia. Don’t make me out to be an asshole here, kid.” Chris rolled his eyes with a faux grin, struggling to hide the slightest bit of insult from your insinuations.

Wait, kid? No, no, no. For one, 29, divorced, and your own insurance plan hardly classified you in the kid category. And the boobs. C’mon, Evans. Didn’t you see the boobs?

“However, I think the term kid need no longer apply…”

Did he hear your thoughts? Could he read minds now? He’s Captain America. Of course he could. Your thoughts heckled you.

Abruptly set on actual fire at the way his eyes painted over you like daggers memorizing your every curve, you choked up a dousing gulp of wine, and it dribbled down your rounded chin. He caught the beads of dark Merlot pooling at the corner of your lips with his thumb, then quite accidentally erotically, sucked the liquid from his finger with a pop of his half-smiling lips.

“Still as elegant as ever, I see.” Chris winked, and pulled an open-mouth sip of his sweating bottle of ale.

Bury your head in a hole full of poisonous scorpions, or plunge from a plane with no parachute? Both scenarios seemed like a fitting death for the embarrassment boiling throughout your pulsing veins.

“I resent that. I didn’t even trip up a single stair on the way in, thank you very much, sir.” Your hair toppled over your shoulder with your sassy, matter-of-fact head bob. The loose strand falling airily into your face.

“You’re so right. Seems little Mil is all grown up and coordinated now.” He reached for the lock of your hair in an instant, like he couldn’t resist its’ touch, and twirled it around his pointer finger only once, or twice before pushing it from your eyes.

The room went silent then, and spun with the drunken tension of unexplained passion. You wondered if this whole façade was some sort of sick way for his ego to get off, or had word gotten around to him about your less than happy fortune, and he pitied you, and old friend, in some way? Sure, you could put an outfit together in less then 5 minutes like nobody’s business, and you weren’t exactly a bore to be around. But you were such a… a simpleton compared to him in every sense. Often stringy, dull blonde hair no matter what “shine shampoo” you paid for. Your legs not even half the length of an average sized woman, and you were barely tall enough to reach the pedals of a car. A tiny, blonde, plain-faced woman with the occasional humorous comeback. Nowhere near the realm of anything he deserved.

He never broke his laser, blue-eyed stare with yours when he stretched blindly the empty his hand of the bottle, placing it to rest on top of the piano behind you. They color looping around his pupils was like your own lustful swimming pool where you wanted to float wearing nothing but a smile. The rounded point of your chest touched his when he leaned past you, and you prayed the thin lace of your unlined bra was just enough to hide the gentle bud of your breast. You were sure the news of the split with your husband was indeed knowledge to him, because he wasn’t the type to ever sink to the level of pursing a taken woman.

But, was this that? Was the closeness of his body, and his ruthless, studying stares his idea of pursuit? Or was your needy, wishful thinking playing tricks on you?

“I see the tan line on your finger, but the ring is missing?” You couldn’t make sense of his words as a question, or a statement.

“I’m sure you’ve heard more than I would have liked for you to, Chris…”

He gently squeezed at your teeny bicep, his head ghosting a nod just before you dropped to shamefully examine your feet.

“I did hear some stuff. But, it came directly from your moms mouth. Well, straight from your moms mouth, then my moms who she told.” He smiled to alleviate your stresses. “But, if you wanna talk, I’ll listen, Amelia.”

You wanted to. Oh, how curiously bad you wanted to. Something in the velvet ease of his voice willed you cry, and confess, and vent your broken hearts every desperate pain, and you had no idea why. He was a familiar face, but one from the past. You’d lived an entire life since the two of you had last seen the other, and yet something around his eyes hypnotized you to confide there like a terrified stow-away, running from the harshness your reality.

Just as your lips parted, and you’d carefully allowed only one tear to totter on the edge of your eyelid, the yelps of an observant dog startled you both. Dodger stood on his hind legs, peeping and panting as he stared out the open curtain of a bay window.

“Shit Dodger. Calm down boy, it’s fine.” Chris dropped his hold on you to settle the curious animal. “Everyone else is here. Late as usual.” He remarked.

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, some of the guys are coming to watch the game tonight. You’ll remember most of them. Their wives, too! When I saw you the other day, I knew I had to invite you out to visit with everybody since you’re back here now. Thought it would be cool for everyone to catch up, ya’ know?” The man casually explained as he strolled towards the entryway.

Stupid you. Always stupid, stupid you. Of course, this wasn’t a date. He didn’t want to date you. Not now, not ever. You fluffed your mess of curls, and paid for yet another outfit you didn’t need simply for nothing. But, the outfit was charged to a credit card in your wallet still under the name of your oh, so generous, soon-to-be ex-husband, who you were sure wouldn’t mind. So, that part wasn’t exactly a problem.

The signs had been all there though, right? The wine he’d asked you about. The sinful way he whispered and teased into your ear? It definitely seemed flirtatious in the most welcomed of manner. Or, maybe you just desperately wanted it to feel that way. Did your ego subconsciously create the boost it needed?

“Mills? Hey, you in there? Amelia?” He pleaded you from your daydreaming state as you swayed on your feet due to the thoughtful coma you were entranced in.

“There’s not a problem is there, sweetheart?”

“No, no. God, no! Not at all! It’s great, yeah. I’m excited to see them.” Your words wavered a little, battling the line of truth and lie.

It wouldn’t be so bad to see some familiar faces, and maybe rekindled some friendships now that you had waywardly returned. But, the scoop neckline of your slinky tank couldn’t hide the wave of blushing, blind disappointment climbing your chest. A result of how you felt about having to share him with others. As if he was yours to share.

People welcomed themselves in, some toting 6-packs, a brown sack marked with the logo of a bakery downtown that you knew created all things scrumptious, so you’d have to get into the good graces of the woman you didn’t recognize carrying it towards the kitchen. The faces had changed, but a handful of them still had those same smiles, or telling eyes from the past, and they appeared strangely excited to see you. Especially Tucker, someone closer to your age who had grown close to Chris through tap classes. The only other person on the planet who was informed on your most secret desires for the handsome Evans in question.

He nearly sprinted towards you, cradling your now squished, reddened cheeks in his hands. Your nose crinkled and eyes rolled with nothing but the truest joy at his fanatical greetings.

“Well, well. If our girl isn’t where all her little wet dreams from 15-years-ago unraveled, hm? Assuming you have been up to his bedroom already?” Tucker pinched your bottom playfully, murmuring into the hollow of your ear.

“Oh, give me some credit, Tuck! What kinda girl do you think I am?!!”

“One who has wanted a slice of that man since we were 13, Amelia. That’s who.”

God, he wasn’t wrong. He was the farthest left from anything resembling wrong, and it made the contents of your stomach swimming with the heavy red wine want to escape. You didn’t trust yourself to keep it together with Chris, and hold on to even the tiniest little remnant of your dignity. Your gut knew all he had to do was say the word, and you’d go skipping into his bed like most eager of beavers. But, God. You wanted him to say the word……

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying. This one is a bit unnerving for me, and my readers are used to Hardy content. Your feedback is always welcomed with open arms! Again, let me know if you'd like to me added, or removed from the tag-list! xx

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog

#chris evans #chrisevans #chris evans x ofc #chris evans fanfiction #fanfiction

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yoonseoksoftie · 5 years

Text

bonnie and clyde(s) | pt.ii

› pairing: min yoongi x original character x jung hoseok › 4.3k words. › criminal!sope › two petty thieves and a bartender in the search for revenge and money find something much more valuable with each other. › parts: i | ii

An involuntary grunt leaves the back of your throat while you help Hoseok hoist Yoongi’s unconscious body onto a beat up gurney. You quickly wipe the sweat clinging to your forehead with the back of your hand before zipping up the black body bag you’ve stuffed Yoongi into in an effort to portray the act of a couple of medics delivering an unfortunate bystander. The back entrance of the morgue reeks of rancid chemicals and waste, making it difficult to restrain yourself from gagging. The risk of bringing Yoongi to a morgue located in the heart of the city whilst he is indisposed is incredibly high; not to mention idiotic considering the building is attached to the police station. You almost injured yourself when Hoseok revealed where he’d be taking Yoongi, snapping your neck in his direction so briskly it cramped. There are numerous APBs alerting every cop in neighboring districts to be out in the lookout for the three of you. On one hand, you knew he was sticking it to the cops by encroaching their property right under their noses and on the other, you knew he had his reasons for choosing whatever individual was inside the morgue.

The morgue’s hallways are dimly lit by flickering lightbulbs located on the roof in rows of two, the air is impregnated with a stagnant smell that told you no fresh air has circulated through the building’s corridors for a very long time. Every hallway you step into is as dead as a burial ground, no sign of a living soul in sight as you maneuver your way through them. The squeaking sound of the gurney wheels rotating echo off the beige colored walls, reminding you of a bow gliding against the strings of a badly tuned violin.

“How do you know this guy again?”

Once Yoongi was safely laid in the back seat of his GTO, Hoseok had stepped on the accelerator, driving like a mad man on a mission. You’ve never seen a man break so many laws in a matter of minutes, you were sure his driving had earned him a spot in the world’s record book for worst driving in an urban area.

“I don’t,” Hoseok mutters nonchalantly, gearing the gurney into another hallway. You remain silent, waiting for him to offer any other form of information. You scoff when you are greeted with more silence, finding it completely ironic that he chooses to remain quiet at a moment like this when it is rare for him to ever suppress his endless stream of unsolicited facts around you but you know better than to push for information.

When you’d first met him, you had been intimidated by him, he was polite but somewhat aloof. Most men came into the casino in search for cash and perhaps a few women, Hoseok however, came to the casino three days out of the week, played for three hours, had three alcoholic beverages and rejected the advances of the many beautiful women that approached him. He was a challenge you gladly accepted. It took time before you could make conversation with him that didn’t consist of pleasantries. During the months he came in you learned that alcohol clouded his thinking and that he was a self-proclaimed prodigy. He reeled you in with his words and his impressive knowledge, making you addicted to everything he did. Without you realizing it, he became a huge part of your nights, some days you found yourself latently memorizing rare facts about the world in exchange for a few minutes of conversation with him. He was a drug you couldn’t get enough of, the more you interacted with him the more you wanted. Like an addict you came back for a hit, taking every crumb he offered you. It wasn’t until later that you understood that his aloofness was a default safety precaution rather than an actual disinterest in people, which made you want to uncover every layer he hid behind. Your interest only grew when you discovered that cards were nothing but child’s play for him. Winning was guaranteed attainment for a man like Hoseok.

“I am rather fond of the company this place provides me with,” he explained one night, a sly smile hiding behind the rim of his glass. Offering no further details when you’d asked what the point of playing was if he knew the ending result.

A set of grey double doors comes into view, signaling the hallway is coming to an end. You don’t know what to expect once you step behind the double doors. There are only two sequences of events in which this could end, one: Hoseok’s contact fails to mend Yoongi’s wound or two: his contact is successful in mending Yoongi’s wound but you find yourselves surrounded by pigs. For all you know, this is a trap that results in you spending the next seven years of your life in a six by eight.

The trolley comes to a halt and you look up to meet Hoseok’s unusually soft gaze.

“You trust me?” The words hang heavy in the narrow space between the two of you.

Do you trust him? Of course, you do. You trust him the way a child trusts its mother to care for it, he is the security blanket that fights off your nightmares.

You trust him blindly.

You nod.

“Good.” He nods back, pushing the double doors open with his back.

As soon as you enter the room your nostrils are bombarded with the strong stench of chlorine and what you believe to be formaldehyde. The room is big, white, and immaculate. Metal cabinets line the perimeter of the room, stacked with different colored chemical bottles and equipment. In the center of the room sit three long shiny metal tables. A blonde haired man is perched on the middle table typing away furiously at his laptop’s keyboard, too immersed in his task to notice the sweaty criminals that have entered his morgue.

He jumps at the sound of the double doors slamming shut, accidentally banging his head against the scale hanging next to him.

The man spins around rubbing at the side of his head, eyes wide in alarm as he eyes the both of you.

He looks at you, then at Hoseok, then back at you. The boy stands from the table reluctantly, mouth agape, unable to formulate any words as he takes in your appearance. You can only imagine the sight Hoseok and you paint for him. The lace one piece you are wearing leaves little to the imagination and you are colored red with blood. You hold back the urge to cross your arms and shield yourself from his gaze, instead you cock an eyebrow at him defiantly. Next to you, the blood on Hoseok’s black three-piece suit goes unnoticed but the fire in his eyes and the words that are about to fall from his lips are threat enough to warn the guy against any funny business.

“Stop fucking looking at her,” Hoseok snaps, causing the poor man to flinch. “Your name is Park Jimin, you’re twenty-six years old and you live in a shitty fucking apartment a few blocks north from here. You have a younger brother named Jungkook, he’s fresh out of high school and is currently attending the University of Daegu. You are behind three months in rent and are in deep debt with some really bad people back in your hometown.”

The information flows out of Hoseok’s mouth like the harsh current of a river, creating a maelstrom in its wake, leaving you to process the violation of privacy he is delivering. His words overwhelm you despite the various instances in which you’ve been a witness to the extent of his knowledge. He likes informing himself about every inanimate object he comes into contact with, you should’ve figured it’d be no different with people.

When they first taught you how to handle a gun Hoseok had gone into specific detail about the maker and history of the gun, stating that becoming acquainted with your weapon was an advantage your opponent rarely possessed. His interest went beyond understanding how an object worked, it was genuine curiosity that fueled him to expand his knowledge about the many creatures and objects in his environment. Being around him was like owning a never-ending fountain of information, spilling unwarranted facts left and right. Moments like these make you wonder if he is just as informed about you. A dark part of you relishes the thought of someone having a partiality this big towards you, interested enough to learn every aspect of your life, past and present.

Your joy is short-lived, that same thought making you realize how little you know about them.

Your knowledge of them is rather superficial. Like the scar Yoongi has on his left side, stretching from his armpit down to his hip bone or the many cigarette burns Hoseok has on his lower abdomen. They are physical scars that carry emotional damage but you know nothing of how they acquired them. From the months you’ve spent together you’ve noticed that Yoongi always has to face the entrance of any room he is in and that Hoseok despises the smell of cinnamon, perhaps there isn’t any correlation between those two instances but you can’t help your curiosity.

“You patch him up, no questions asked and you’ll be rewarded handsomely, understood?”

Hoseok’s thundering voice brings you back from your gloomy thoughts.

It is your turn to move. You walk towards the man, Jimin, slipping the bag off your shoulder and throwing it onto the metal counter, the harsh smack created by the weight of the bag against the lean surface echos throughout the silent room. You open the black bag to reveal stacks upon stacks of bills.

The man’s eyes widen even more at the sight of all the green paper.

Hoseok unzips the body bag, uncovering Yoongi’s bloody body. Jimin visible swallows when he sees the man laying on the gurney, blinking a couple of times unable to believe his eyes. His eyes roam every part of Yoongi, gasping when he notices the rise and fall of his chest.

He is used to working with dead people, not living.

“I-I,” he stutters, words failing him as he retrieves a pair of gloves from a plastic box next to the metal table. “I don’t think I can help him, I’m n-not a—”

“Think again,” Hoseok interjects, the sharpness in his voice sending goosebumps all over your body.

Jimin walks towards the gurney and pulls the opening of the bag apart from each other to get a better look at Yoongi’s wound.

“H-hello, my name is Jimin,” he speaks quietly to Yoongi. “I’m going to untie the jacket around your thigh to get a better look at your wound, p-please let me know if the pain becomes unbearable.”

The wounded man doesn’t respond, too far gone to formulate a response.

Jimin sighs and turns to the two of you.

“Help me get him on the examination table.”

Tick, tick, tick.

The sound of the clock’s hands is a deafening annoyance in his ears, ticking every second away. Your gaze is fixated on the translucent clock hanging on the opposite wall. He can tell impatience is eating at you from the way you chew on your bottom lip, coloring it a deep cherry red that will give away blood if you keep it up. You rise, untie your hair, run your hands through it, and gather it in a low bun. Your pacing back and forth creates a steady rhythm that increases with every second that passes as you wait on Jimin.

Jimin had asked for both of you to wait in his office. Hoseok agreed to step aside once he made it crystal clear to Jimin that any out of place movement would earn him a 12mm inside his head.

“Will you sit down for a moment?”

You halt and turn towards him.

“They’ve been out there for thirty minutes,” you state like it’s the most important words to ever leave your mouth.

He ignores the pointed look you give him.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he counters, looking down at his watch. “Ten minutes and twenty-five seconds to be precise.”

You huff at him, clearly annoyed at his response. You untie and tie your hair again before throwing yourself onto the couch.

Despite the blood on your clothes and disgruntled appearance, he can’t help but find you completely enticing. Perhaps it has something to do with the undisguised emotions swimming in your eyes. In his world, projecting emotion without restriction is a risk that more often than not follows with dire consequence. Granting a person the opportunity to witness such vulnerability is something he steers clear from but not you. You offer every bit of yourself with every word you speak and without realizing it you have become the most fascinating thing in his life. It is a foolish thing to do, giving a man in his position such sweet poison without thinking twice, no care for what he might do with it. He trades information, guns, drugs, and people for money. Blackmails when necessary with said trade yet, you never change the way you speak to them, and such innocence on your part only draws him to you and makes him want to protect you from men like him.

You’re concerned. Concerned about Yoongi, concerned that this might be the end, concerned about the unspoken drift Yoongi’s brush with death has brought to your relationship with them. He knows, and the dark and neglected parts of himself find your distress delightful. It means you care about them, about him. He’s noticed the way your hands linger on his body and the way you push his lips against yours at night when you think Yoongi is asleep, eager for another kiss. But he wants more than just faint touches from you, he wants hair pulling, skin ripping, eyes rolling into the back of his head touches from you. He wants you naked and sprawled out in front of him.

He wants you completely.

His seat offers him a beautiful side view of your face and he is everything but ungrateful as he takes in the elegant curves of your face, the outline of your nose and lips. Sometimes when he’s drunk out of his mind, you come to his aid and take care of him. In moments like those he believes you are a figment of his own imagination, a chimera he abuses to cope when the walls cave in on him and there seems to be no end to his pain. The kindness in your eyes when you look down at him is the light that guides him out of the dustiest places inside his mind, offering him a warmth he wants to submerge himself in.

“Hyung is a very strong man,” Hoseok drawls out, a few tears slip from your eyes and down the side of your cheeks.

He hates seeing you cry, even more so when it’s caused by him or Yoongi. They don’t deserve your tears. They are cheaters, killers, outlaws that answer to nobody but themselves. Although lately, he feels like he has to explain himself to you, make you understand why they did what they did. Will you damn them? Abhor them? He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you face the hurtful truth. There is no going back once the truth reveals itself, he knows that but he will walk the darkest depths of hell to keep you by their side.

“While the ratio of nerves to muscle in the human body is incredibly high, the strength harbored in our body allows us to have feats of super strength. For instance, a trained athlete can activate up to eighty percent of their muscle strength while a regular human can only activate sixty-five. Hyung is trained in these,” he pauses for a second, moving his spread hands in circular motions back and forth in search for the proper word, hoping the movement alone will bring the correct word to him. “…aspects of life. It isn’t the first bullet he’s encountered so his body is familiarized with the interaction. He will pull through.”

Your eyes remain closed but he can still see a few tears spilling from them. He retrieves a silver cigarette box from the inside pocket of his suit, pulling out a thin nicotine cylinder and placing it between his dry lips before lighting it. Taking a long drag, he lets the venomous fumes fill his lungs, holding them there until his chest burns and he’s forced to release them. He hates himself for not being able to comfort you in the way you need it. Unlike guns, bombs, or planning scores, human interaction does not come easily to him. He can’t walk over to you and wrap you in his arms the way he wants to because it doesn’t feel right to him. How could physical contact assure you of his hyung’s safety? There is no correlation between the two. Facts, in his opinion, are a better form of consolation because they can’t be denied. They are proof that holds no uncertainty. What better way to reassure someone than with the solid truth? And the truth is that his hyung is an incredibly resilient man who has survived crueler and severe situations. A simple bullet is nothing more than a scrape for him, or at least that’s what he wants to believe.

Between the two men, Hoseok is the weak one, and he is man enough to admit it. From the day Yoongi rescued him from the vicious and belittling hands of his father he has grown to rely on him. Yoongi is a resourceful man, from selling illegal narcotics and distributing them, to robbing warehouses full of merchandise, he always finds a way to provide for the two of them while Hoseok simply follows and tries to make himself useful. His thirst for knowledge was birthed out of incompetence. From his years in the business, he has learned that the most powerful man is always the most knowledgeable, not the one with the bigger toys. Knowledge is power and he is on a mission to become the most powerful man, that is the only way he can keep those close to his heart safe. He has trained his mind and body relentlessly for years, honing his proficiency under the false presence of self-reliance when in truth he is a hypocrite. Each day he fights to achieve perfection in hopes of running away from the very thing he chases. Deep inside he is still a beaten down good for nothing child, afraid of abandonment. No matter how much he trains and studies he will never escape the fundamental truth. He is as useless as an appendix, rotting away and bound to bring ruination to those around him.

“Princess,” he calls, lowering his legs from the desk, voice so hoarse it sounds like he hasn’t said a word in years. “Come here.”

You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the wetness in your eyes. Sitting up you turn to face him and the look in your doe-eyed eyes sucker punch him straight in the stomach.

A tender warmth spreads through his chest. Perhaps he isn’t all bad.

“Noona,” Hoseok calls for you again, his voice a soft caress.

He opens his arms for you, invitingly.

You shake your head. “I’ll get you dirty,”

He quirks an eyebrow, “So?”

“That’s a very expensive suit Hobi,” you point out.

“It’s just blood,” he shrugs, taking the dangling cigarette from his lips and putting it out on the desk. “C’mon now.” He ushers you, flexing his fingers back and forth to get you to hurry.

You walk towards him and lower yourself onto his lap, laying sideways and throwing your legs over the side rails of the chair. He cradles you in his arms like a baby, holding you close against his chest. You snuggle him, basking in his warmth. He smells of gunpowder, sweat, and cigarettes, a strange combination you have grown to love. The feeling of having you in his arms is something Hoseok will never tire of, it’s when he feels the most at ease knowing no harm can come to you. The slight bruising on your side sets his anger ablaze, if he ever gets his hands on the asshole that colored you black and blue he will make sure the man never takes another breath. He will tear the world apart if it meant his hyung and you will never feel any semblance of pain.

“Don’t you worry any further. Once he is well-rested, hyung and I will take you far away from this place. I promise.”

From the many stakeouts Hoseok had done in his life this one had to be the most entertaining and tedious one. His gaze drifted from the various waitresses walking across the crowded room, trays full of drinks and appetizers in hand, scanning for the face he had acquainted himself within the past two weeks. If he was being honest, the greed filled venture was not his scene. It was lost on him why men subjected themselves with blind abandonment to such an unfruitful vice. Their loss was much higher than their gain but he supposed that was the motivation behind such establishments. Despite not being an enthusiast of these sort of games he couldn’t deny the appeal, winning money out of sheer luck was, in fact, an attractive endeavor.

The fluorescent lights reflecting against every corner of the room strained his eyes, a dull ache pressed against the inside of his head. The waiting was the most wearying part about stakeouts, the lack of action made him want to crawl out of his skin, but it was a necessary strategy. He took a drag from his cigarette and tipped his head backward, closing his eyes and allowing the nicotine to run its course through him.

“Good evening sir,” a sweet voice resonated in his ears. “I will be your server for the night, would you like to order anything before joining one of our many gaming tables?”

Opening his eyes, Hoseok sees the outline of your frame out of the corner of his eyes. He angles his body sideways, releasing the fumes through his nose and lands his eyes on your figure. All his life Hoseok had to work hard in order to achieve his many desires but it seemed that the heavens were finally smiling down on him. Standing in front of him stood the key to the treasure of his life, you. He knew what he was there for, he walked into the casino knowing that you would be serving tables from eight to midnight and would then switch shifts to the gaming tables from twelve thirty to two. What he didn’t know was that you would come so easily to him. Releasing a dry chuckle he placed his elbows on the table, folding both of his hands under his chin.

“What does the house recommend?” He asked, scanning every inch of your face and then moving down to your attire. A simple black and white ensemble that hugged your curves amazingly, an invitation for the many drunk men to spend more money than necessary he was sure.

“Well,” You began, reciting the daily specials from memory. “Today our cuisine specials consist of Seoul Bristo and Ginseng. If you are not looking to dine, happy hour is about to begin, although you would have to sit by the bar for that, sir.”

He nodded approvingly at your waitressing skills, competence was a quality he admired and was fond of. You waited patiently for his reply, hands behind your back and the kindest smile he had ever seen plastered on your face. This was going to be an easy job. Not only did he know everything from your height, weight, academic history, who your best friend in high school was, all the way down to the color of your bedroom, but you were also an open book. Transcribing all your emotions onto your eyes, he could already picture himself surrounded by thick crates of money and diamonds.

However, there was something about your eyes that set his nerves on edge. He felt as if he were being dissected the longer you looked at him, no sign of annoyance at his silence.

“Would it be allowed for me to smoke at the bar?”

“Of course,” you asserted. “The left section of the bar is reserved specifically for customers who smoke. We also provide different varieties of cigars if you have a particular preference.”

He had never seen someone so well informed and enthusiastic about their job, you were truly something else.

“Particular preference, eh?” he offered you a small smile, cocking his head to one side. He was still unaware of what tactic he would have to use on you. Were you easily beguiled? He really hoped so, he didn’t want to lose the bet against his hyung, he’d lost plenty already.

“Y-yes sir,” you cleared your throat, meeting his eyes with a strange fire inside them.

“Would you like for me to…” you paused for a second, looking at him from under your lashes, a faint rosy color staining your cheeks. “escort you?”

Were you trying to flirt? Perhaps this was his lucky day. He couldn’t wait to snatch his money out of his hyung’s hands and watch as the arrogant smile fades from his face.

He truly applauded himself, tonight’s work proved to be nothing easier than stealing candy from a baby. Perhaps he’d reward himself with a few rounds of cards, although the competition would fall short against him. He sighed, easy money was always welcomed no matter how monotonous acquiring it may be.

“Please,” he stood up, retrieving his suit jacket from where it hung on the backrest of his chair. Across the room, a raven-haired man sat on a bar stool, nursing a whiskey on the rocks. Hoseok offered him a knowing look to which the man simply nodded. “Lead the way.”

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