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starrygalaxy04 · 4 years ago

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The MLQC Boys and Squirting Headcannon+Drabble (NFSW)

Victor

At first, he didn't really think much of it

He's 100% a giver and wants to make you feel all the good feelings

He knew how to pull orgasms from you as well as he knew how to tie a tie, so there was no doubt you would have many

But what he didn't expect was for you to gush all over his face while he was nose-deep between your legs

He doesn't actively look to make you squirt after that, but it is a major turn on for him and if you do it once, there's a very good chance he'll get you to do it again

Victor laid hot, wet kisses down your stomach as he made his way in between your legs. He had made sure you were absolutely soaked before even letting a finger slip down there, gently making out with you as his fingers rubbed gentle, slow circles on your clit. It was enough contact to make you squirm, but it was too slow and not exactly firm enough to get you to the peak you wanted.

He hushed your whining with a kiss before slowly picking up the pace, bringing you to one of the many earth-shattering orgasms Victor consistently gave you when the two of you made love. He was nothing if not thorough, if you didn't like something he was quick to stop and move on to something else. And when you tugged at his wrist after your orgasm, a small whine leaving your lips, he got the hint.

Which is how he found himself nipping at your thighs, patiently waiting for any sign that you were ready for more. He didn't like to overstimulate you unless you were bouncing on his cock. Foreplay was very important, a necessity that was taken very seriously when you were under Victor Li.

Your fingers tangling in his black locks and tugging is what brought him back to the present, smirking as he trailed his kisses higher until his breath was ghosting over your clit, warmth radiating against his lips as his tongue flicked out of his mouth experimentally. The low moan that left your mouth and the insistent tugging against his scalp was all he needed before he had pressed his mouth against your folds. His tongue lapped languidly against you, occasionally venturing up to circle your clit before trailing back down, collecting more of your sweet-tasting slick on his tongue.

The sounds of him licking your folds began to fill the room the wetter you got, low moans leaving your lips as Victor groaned against your folds. Without warning, he slipped a finger inside of you, rubbing against your gummy walls as he focused his attention more on your clit. Soon, a second finger joined the first, and the pads of his fingers found a spot that made your moans grow much louder.

He kept a slow, steady pace, sucking and licking your clit as you clenched on his fingers, heavenly moans leaving your lips as your grip on his hair tightened. Your hips bucked once, twice, and Victor used his free hand to pin your hips down, his deep purple eyes watching as your expression contort into one of pure ecstasy. He could tell you were close, and couldn't help but smile against your clit, his teeth gently rubbing against it as his fingers continued to move.

Before long, you were gasping, begging him not to stop. He obliged, sucking hard on your clit before your orgasm rocked through you. Your legs closed around his face, plush flesh pressed against his cheeks. He closed his eyes, prepared to diligently work you through it. But what he didn't expect was a gush of fluid to coat his face and splatter onto his neck. He paused for a brief moment, eyes wide, before he began massaging your thighs, waiting for you to come down.

When you finally released him, he slowly moved away, letting you take in the mess on the lower half of his face and around his prominent Adam's apple. His narrow purple eyes caught yours, adoration, love, and lust mixed together into one picture you wouldn't forget any time soon.

"I didn't know you could do that."

Lucien

This man is actively looking to make you squirt

He's into both overstimulation and edging, and he can read your body like a book

It was a matter of time

The first time he got you to do it, he made sure to forever engrave it in his memory

He loves to take pictures of you, innocent or naughty

He didn't think a simple picture would do that beauty justice, though

If you consented to it, he would definitely take a video of it for his personal enjoyment

It wasn't uncommon for Lucien to tie you to the bed with the light purple silk wrapped around your wrists and ankles. And it also wasn't uncommon for Lucien to hold a vibrator to your clit, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you until you were in tears, begging for him to stop. But it also wasn't uncommon for him to do the exact opposite, pulling away when you were just about to cum, making you whine and moan for hours until he finally let you cum.

Tonight was a more merciful night.

You had a hard day today, which meant Lucien wasn't going to be as hard on your body. You liked both sides of him, the ruthless hard dominant and the softer dominant that still held a guiding hand in every move you made in the bedroom.

Lucien sucked on your collarbone, leaving a hickey that would just barely be covered up by the clothing you would wear to work the next day. He had been teasing you for the past hour, his large hands roaming over the expanse of your body, squeezing, massaging, pinching, kissing, and licking everywhere except where you wanted him most. Hickies littered your upper thighs and hips along with some bite marks. Lucien had already made a mental note to take a picture of them later, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his right hand trailed lower. His middle finger made contact with your slit first, completely soaked. He trailed further down, his fingers coming in contact with a damp spot on the sheets.

A smile made its way onto Lucien's lips as a pleading moan left your lips, and he shushed you quietly, resting his head in the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He was still fully clothed, his lab coat and shirt rubbing against your heated skin as his hand trailed back up, coating itself in your slick.

"Just relax, little butterfly. I've got you."

Lucien gently kissed your shoulder before slipping his middle and ring finger inside your sopping, gummy walls. Your head tilted back and another smile graced Luciens lips as he pumped his fingers at a slow pace, making sure to rub that one spot that drove you wild.

"If you want more, all you have to do is ask, butterfly. Today is all about you." Lucien cooed in your ear, watching you squirm.

"More, please more," were the only words that left your lips before Lucien had obliged you, his fingers knuckle-deep inside you as he thrusted them at a moderate pace, listening to your moans and whines.

His thumb trailed over your clit, rubbing the nub gently as his fingers were getting coated in your juices. The sound of squelching could be heard only if you listened close. Lucien didn't want anyone else to hear the sounds your decadent pussy made within the walls of his apartment.

When your moans grew louder, his thumb rubbed more generously on your clit, his fingers pressing up against that one spot with more vigor. He pressed gentle kisses on your neck, praising you with gentle hums as he worked on getting you to an orgasm.

When your gummy walls began clenching on his fingers, he rubbed your clit just a slight bit faster, encouraging words leaving his lips without him even thinking.

"Cum for me, my butterfly. My beautiful, lovely butterfly. Let it go, I'm right here."

You came with a squeal, your walls clamping down on his fingers as he watched the clear liquid gush from your cunt. His pale eyes were locked on his wrist, his lab coat soaked from the ejaculate.

You were still coming down from your high as Lucien slipped his fingers out of you, removing your bindings so that you could move freely. He laid back down next to you, a smile on his face as he watched you roll over to face him.

"It seems like we have a new result to look forward to."

Kiro

Kiro, the poor baby, didn't even know what squirting was

He had just gotten back to the hotel from shooting a promo for his newest movie, but because he was in another country he couldn't release the pent-up horniness like he wanted to

So what was better at that moment than some phone sex?

He knew you had the day off, so he didn't hesitate to video call you after he had crashed in his bed

You answered immediately, and the rest was history

It takes him a while to get the gist of it, but thanks to his skilled fingers he finds all the right spots in no time

If you feel up to it, he will happily give you a squirt orgasm that will leave you boneless without his dick going inside of you

Kiro couldn't stand it anymore. He hadn't had you in his arms in a month, and it was really starting to take its toll. He had a boner at almost all times now, which was very inconvenient considering he had many shoots to do. So as soon as he got back to the apartment, the first thing he did was call you.

You had a day off, and were watching Netflix when he called. He had greeted you happily, and you two talked for a while before he brought up the real purpose of his call. Normally he had no issue about asking you to have sex with him, but his flaming red cheeks gave away a hint of embarassment. You agreed with a chuckle, assuring him that you missed him that way too.

Since you were on video call, he came up with the idea of a mutual masturbation on camera thing, and while you had gone to get some things he had pulled his pants and boxers down, sighing in relief as his achingly hard cock was finally released from the confines of his tight jeans.

But what he hadn't expected was for you to come back in lingerie with a weirdly shaped glass dildo and lube. His blue eyes watched in amazement as you smiled at him through the camera, pushing your laptop far enough away that he could see all of you slumped against the headboard of your bed.

You wore his favorite set, a bra and panty ensemble made of chains of golden beads, leaving little to the imagination. His cock twitched as he watched you pull aside your panty, running a finger along your folds tantalizingly as you stared directly into the camera, lust clouding your gaze.

Kiro let out a sigh as his hand gripped around his cock, fighting back the urge to lean his head back as he watched you through half-lidded eyes. You had moved to open the bottle of lube, pouring some of it over the dildo. He got a better look at it. It was narrow and curved, as if it were meant to stimulate a certain spot inside of you. He watched eagerly as you slid it in after spreading the lube around generously, mouth open into a perfect "o".

Slowly, you began moving the toy inside you, and Kiro stroked his cock at the same pace, the head flushed a bright red as he spread the pre cum leaking from it over his cock with his hand. You slowly began moving it faster inside you, and as you did Kiro's pace picked up as well. Before long, the both of you were panting, moaning messes, watching the other pleasure themselves through the screen.

Kiro's cheeks were flushed a deep red, sweat pouring from his brow as low groans left him, the rings on his finger a sharp, cold contrast to the warmth of his hand, which he was currently picturing as the soft, sopping warmth of your cunny.

A particularly loud groan left him, a sign that he was close, and you picked up the pace dramatically, knowing it was what he needed to push him over the edge. Kiro came with a loud groan, his cum coating his hand in thick spurts. As he came down from his high, he watched as your face contorted, and then you were cumming, clear liquid spraying from your cunny. Some of it landed on the camera, and Kiro felt his refractory period become non-existent as his cock hardened again.

Your body slumped against the pillows, your thighs closed tightly together, the toy lay forgotten next to you.

There was only one thought on Kiro's mind after that.

"How did you do that?"

Gavin

This man was a pure virgin baby, hadn't watched anything more than a couple creampie compilations in his free time

So he also knew nothing about squirting

He knew that the calluses on his hands felt pleasurable to you, especially when he was prepping you to take his cock

And while he couldn't quite get the spot you wanted him to get with his fingers, he certainly could with his cock

You had asked him many times if he was sure he hadn't had sex before because God sex with him was heavenly, but he vehemently denied it (it was the truth after all)

So when he was balls deep inside you, with those slow, deep, hard thrusts, he knew you were in ecstasy

But he didn't expect when you came for his dick to literally get forced out of your cunny as clear liquid gushed from it, coating his hips and thighs

He's been entranced with it ever since

If you're feeling up to it, you'll squirt at least once when you two have sex

Its how he knows he's making you feel good

Gavin's fingers slid out of your sopping cunny, moving to undo his belt as he kneeled in front of you. You were laid out on his bed, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He had just gotten back from a mission and with him uninjured, neither of you hesitated to jump each other's bones.

In your haste, you had completely ignored each other's shirts, instead immediately ripping down your shorts and underwear, Gavin apologizing with a deep blush on his face as he pulled you in for a kiss full of tongue and passion as he massaged your aching cunny. Then he slowly slid the first finger in. Prepping you for his cock always seemed like the most torturous teasing, especially when he had been away on missions long enough for him to have to prep you all over again. You'd much rather him be able to get you sopping wet, effortlessly slipping those two fingers inside of you, confirming you were ready for him.

But right now, the stretch wasn't something you were used to, and stung slightly as he had scissored the long, thick digits inside of you, hitting spots only your toys could reach. And even then, it wasn't near as good as what was happening now.

Gavin had pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to release his stiff cock, leaking pre cum as he stroked himself once, twice before pulling your hips towards him. He lined his thick cock up with your hole, coating his tip in your copious juices before his golden eyes met yours. His brunette bangs hung low in his face, his golden eyes smoldering as he waited for your confirmation. You nodded once, and he pushed in.

The stretch burned, but God did it feel good to have him inside you again. Gavin groaned, bottoming out inside of you, head thrown back as he tried to hold onto any self-control he had. He really wanted to rail you at that moment, but he knew if he didn't want to hurt you, you needed the adjustment period. Plus, staying still would keep him from cumming too quickly.

He kept still until your hips began moving, wanting him to move. Watching you grind on him gave him an idea. Without warning he pulled out then flipped the both of you over, holding your hips above his aching cock.

"How about you ride me tonight?" He asked, a smile on his face.

Without thinking you nodded, sliding his cock back inside you with a bit more ease this time. After finding a comfortable rhythm, you began bouncing on his cock, grinding on him in a way that made you see stars and made him audibly groan.

Gavin watched in awe as you worked yourself on him, using his body for your own pleasure. You looked beautiful in his eyes, the amazing warmth around his cock an added bonus as he watched your lips part, a series of low moans leaving you as you began to grind on him. He groaned as you clenched on him, and without warning he flipped the both of you back over, whispering a quiet "Sorry" before delivering a slow, hard, deep thrust in your cunny.

Your moans became exponentially louder, each thrust hitting every perfect spot. Your gummy walls drew his cock in further, and before long he was humping you like there was no tomorrow. Without warning you came, the squeeze forcing his cock out of your warmth as clear liquid gushed from you, coating his hips and cock as he watched your hole flutter and your clit throb.

At that point, he had forgotten entirely about his own orgasm as he watched you slump against the sheets, trying to catch your breath.

"Can you do that again?" Gavin breathed.

Shaw

Another one actively looking to make you squirt

He's got an advantage here- in small doses, he can use his Evol to stimulate you

He might pinch your nipple then give you a small shock, rub your clit and do the same, or even give you those delicious shocks while he has two fingers knuckle-deep in your cunny

With the massive sex appeal oozing from this man, it's not surprise he's got a high sex drive, meaning he's horny almost all the time

But when he got you to squirt, oh boy

He got even more addicted

He has a slight sadistic streak, and no matter what if you two are having sex he's going to make you squirt

Most of the time, it's going to be more than once, too

Shaw had already sent you over the edge twice just from rubbing and shocking your clit alone, and now he was going for a third. Your legs clenched in protest. He had given you no breaks from the moment your first orgasm hit until now, his fingers furiously rubbing on your clit as you pleaded with him to stop.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm not stopping until you give me what I want," He cooed, a smirk on his face as his sweat-soaked lilac locks fell into his face. His golden eyes drank in your sweat-soaked and overstimulated form hungrily, an idea slowly forming in his head as his eyes trailed to your weeping cunny.

"In fact," He said, his smirk growing wider. "I'll help you out a little."

Before you could get anything else out, he had shoved his middle and ring finger of his other hand knuckle-deep in your cunny, probing and searching for that one spot he knew would give him what he wanted. And when your back arched, a tell-tale sign that he had found it, his pace became ruthless.

Squelching filled the room as he quickly thrust his fingers in and out of you, rhythmically shocking you as he did. Your moans quickly got louder, as well as your pleas for respite as another orgasm began brewing.

"I'll let you rest in a minute, darling," Shaw smiled at you, shocking you again. "You're close, aren't you? Such a filthy slut, getting off on a few shocks." He slapped your clit before going back to abusing the nub. "C'mon princess, cum for me. Make a mess all over."

And that was all it took for the band to snap. You came around his fingers, hard. The clear fluid Shaw had been searching for gushed from your cunny as you coated his fingers, which were thrusting at a slightly slower pace. He praised you throughout the orgasm, managing to pull just a little bit more of the fluid from your sore cunny before you slumped, boneless and in need of a nap.

Shaw slowed his pace down gradually until his fingers weren't moving at all, slowly pulling them out before licking up the copious amounts of fluid coating his hand.

"Good girl. You can rest, for now."

#mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc gavin #mlqc lucien #mlqc #mlqc shaw #mlqc kiro x reader #mlqc victor x reader #mlqc lucien x reader

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sunflowerim · 4 years ago

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I LOVE YOU 3000!

-PART 42

Weekend 8

When you want time to slow down, it happens to roll faster. Saturday had arrived in the blink of an eye.

"As much as I like having you, don't you think you gotta talk to Lou?" Niall said Saturday morning, handing Harry his cup of coffee. Harry had taken to crash at Niall's place random times of the day since the uneventful incident on Wednesday. Not a single text exchanged with Louis. And lots of media training.

"And say what exactly?" Harry replied coldly, taking the cup from Niall, "that I have to stoop so low for the publicity of my movie?"

"First of all, stop that. Celebrities need publicity and you're new to this field and it'll do you good with the general public. But yeah I don't consciously agree with the whole "stunt" thing," Niall frowned, "and that's why I want you to talk to Louis. Explain stuff to him before he gets the wrong idea."

"No Niall you don't understand."

"Then enlighten me."

"It's all very new to me okay. My feelings for Louis. Me coming to terms with my sexuality. It's all new. And I'm scared Ni. I really am."

"H, but you told me Louis likes you too right? And I know him man, he's a good friend before everything else. He'll understand."

"Louis didn't have a very good image of me okay- and it took me some time to make him trust me, and to low-key make him believe that my media image isn't me. Trust me, I don't have it in me to tell him that I'm a guy who fakes a relationship for the sake of promo. I value relationships man and he does too. So if it's making me angry, rest assured he'll be pissed too."

"God Harry you're overthinking. You never cared what people thought of you."

"Louis isn't people Niall."

"Then TALK TO HIM."

"I don't want him to hate me."

"He will not. Trust me."

"And it's not just that," Harry fumbled with the coffee cup, "Taylor is involved too. And you know how Louis worships Taylor, I don't want him to think less of his idol either. It'll crush him."

"But it's not your fault Harry, and I think it'll be easier for you guys if he knew it was for show."

"I suppose you're right Niall, but I don't have it in me to tell him. He'll think of me as a shallow spineless celebrity. Again."

"You're being paranoid."

"And you're not being a good friend," Harry said, setting down the cup rather too hard.

Niall softened at that and said soothingly, "ok how about this, today's a Saturday. Go to Louis', spend some time with him and just skip this topic. You're missing him. I'm sure he's missing you too."

"How will I face him after what I did last time?"

"Just go on with whatever story you made up that day, since you don't wanna tell him the truth," Niall said, sounding a little disappointed.

"I hate lying to him," Harry replied sadly.

"Ok I'm running out of options here. Just go meet him alright, everything will be fine."

"Fine," Harry sighed, "if you say so," Harry said getting up.

And he drove off to Louis'.

Back in the apartment, Louis was distractedly stirring his fourth cup of tea. It was 11a.m. and he hadn't had any breakfast owing to the fact that his helper was on a sick leave and he didn't feel like ordering either. Clifford was kept prodding his knees, probably sensing Louis' sad demeanor.

He was wondering whether he should just visit his sister for lunch when the bell rang. Louis' heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be Harry could it, Louis thought with a start. No that'd be absurd. Harry had possibly lied to him, abandoned him and ignored him for three days. Why would he come here now.

With his heart in his throat, Louis opened the door. And there standing with his silly gorgeous green eyes and stupid beautiful curls was Harry.

Louis' heart sank to his stomach.

"Hi Lou," Harry said slowly, eyes struggling to look into Louis'.

"Um hi?" Louis asked still standing at the door.

"Can I come in?"

Louis was so lost in his thoughts that he missed the question. His mind was burning with questions. Why was Harry here? To apologise probably. He surely had a reason for his behaviour last day and Louis will listen to whatever Harry has to say.

Harry cleared his throat and repeated, "Will you not let me in Lou?"

Louis' mind came back to the boy in front of him and he moved aside to let Harry in without saying a word.

Clifford leapt up to Harry and barked madly with joy. He was clearly missing his friend.

"Ah good to see you too Cliffy," Harry said, bending low and scratching Clifford's fur.

He stood up again, facing Louis, "I'm really sorry for the other day Louis. It's just I couldn't find a way out." Harry's eyes kept flickering down to his hands, which he was nervously wringing. Still lying, Louis thought.

"Are you sure it wasn't something else?" Louis asked in a calm voice.

"No," Harry replied, still looking down.

"Okay then," Louis said, walking over to the couch and picking up his cup of tea again. "Make yourself comfortable," he said before sitting down himself.

"You're having tea now? How many cups have you had already?" Harry asked.

"This might be my third one." Louis wasn't looking at Harry either. He kept his attention on his phone.

"I'm sure you haven't had any breakfast."

"And?" Louis looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I'll make you some," Harry said, walking over to the kitchen.

Louis didn't find it in his heart to stop him. Maybe if Harry was trying to fall back in their normal habits, he'd eventually talk about whatever the fuck was going on.

Louis didn't join him in the kitchen where Clifford kept running around Harry. He stayed in the couch listening to Clifford and Harry's conversation. Clifford had missed him. Louis had too, but he'd eat avocados sooner than admit that.

Harry made a quick breakfast and called Louis over. Louis ate in silence, aware of Harry's intense gaze on him but every time he looked up, Harry would look away.

"Okay, are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?" Louis snapped.

"Wha- nothing. Nothing." Harry stammered.

Louis took a deep breath to calm himself. "Sorry for that. You know what, take your time. I'm here. I'll listen whenever you're ready."

And Harry could've kissed him, but he kept himself in check. He'd probably had lost his privileges. Louis was so understanding, Harry didn't deserve him.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you and maybe watch a movie."

"Oh yeah," said Louis, remembering something, " the last one's left, I'll put it on."

Louis didn't set up the projector this time. He simply connected the player to the television and settled back in the couch as Avengers Endgame started playing.

Harry didn't know about Louis, but he could hardly focus on the movie himself. His mind kept replaying his previous visits to the apartment, to various funny incidents, to some heart warming ones, to last weekend-

No. Harry couldn't think about it. That hurt. He couldn't imagine how Louis must be feeling at that time.

The movie was showing Iron Man tucking his daughter in bed and his daughter saying, 'I love you 3000'.

Harry glanced sideways to see that Louis had a little smile playing on his lips. Harry made a mental note to remember that it probably held importance to him.

Harry kept fidgeting in his place and in a few minutes, Louis had paused the movie.

"What's wrong Harry?"

Harry didn't know what to say so he kept staring at the motionless character in the television.

"Is this about last weekend?" Louis continued, "Did I cross the line? Do you regret it? Because if so I'm really sorry about that."

Harry looked at Louis with a horrified expression on his face, trying to ignore the pang of sadness it was causing him to know that Louis thought that way.

"Regret? What? No Louis. I don't regret anything. I could never," Harry said earnestly, hoping Louis would understand.

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not-" Harry replied, sounding unsure.

"You are Harry. You're making me feel like I was some random hookup for you and trust me, it doesn't feel good." Louis' voice broke.

It made Harry miserable, seeing Louis like that and he wondered for a brief moment if he should take Niall's advice and tell Louis everything. Louis' presence made the decision easier. He was ready to blabber everything to Louis when his phone rang. Fucking Manager.

"Hello," said a gruff voice from the other side.

"Yeah?" said Harry irritably.

"Where are you?"

"That's none of your business it is?"

"Turns out it is. Did you forget about your outing with Taylor?"

"Ofcourse I didn't. It was on 3rd of July," Harry wanted to punch his manager.

"Which happens to be today."

"Wha-" Harry quickly moved his phone from his ear and checked the date on the lockscreen. July 3rd, 2021. Harry wanted to punch himself. "Okay yeah, um, I didn't notice the date, so uh, is there any way we can postpone this? I'm really busy right now-"

"Taylor is already here. The car is waiting outside your house. So, no."

"Damn it. I mean yeah-"

"Hurry up."

"Yeah I'm coming."

Louis obviously could hear only one side of the conversation and he clearly understood that Harry had to leave. Again.

Harry turned to look at Louis, his eyes apologetic, but Louis looked away.

"Lou-"

"It's alright, just go okay."

"I'm sorry about this."

"Sure you are," Louis replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What- what's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you sure you're not doing this intentionally?"

"How could you even think that?"

"I'm trying to understand the situation Harry. In two months we became closer than ever, so what exactly did I do in the last few days for you to avoid me. I'm sure it's not work related problem, because then you'd have told me."

"No Lou you don't understand-"

"I think I do."

"Lou please, you have to believe me, whatever I'm doing, it's because I don't wanna hurt you."

"Well, guess what, you already did."

Harry tried to reach out for Louis but he moved back a few steps, away from Harry's touch. "Just leave Harry."

Harry's face fell at the last words. He tried to speak again, to make Louis understand, but no words came out and eventually he thought it best to leave. With great difficulty he made his way towards the door and left.

And after a while, Louis left for the gym to channel his frustration to someplace useful. He didn't let himself feel sad about the fact that him and Harry were no longer close, that some unknown barrier had introduced itself in between.

The Next Day

Zayn was overjoyed to see the mail. He could actually see Louis' face as he told him about it. Louis would be thrilled. And his designs on Harry! He had some amazing outfit ideas for Harry. Zayn remembered that the first time he'd heard about Harry being his client he'd refrained from telling Louis about it because back then Louis wasn't exactly on pleased at Harry's existence in general. But now that he was absolutely smitten by Harry, this was going to be nice.

He set off for Louis' at once deciding to surprise him with the news being oblivious to everything that was going on between Louis and Harry.

He stopped by McDonald's drive-thru to grab Louis' favourite milkshake and hash browns.

Harry knew what was coming and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Louis would be seeing the article soon. He couldn't imagine what Louis was going to think about him. Once again, he felt courage build up in his stomach. He was gonna tell Louis. He dashed to his car and drove off before his paranoia returned.

Back in Louis' apartment, things weren't looking that good. Louis had forgotten that he'd turned on twitter notifications for Harry's update account. So, when his phone vibrated with a notification, he clearly wasn't prepared enough to absorb whatever he was seeing. He hastily clicked on the notification and froze at the contents of the screen.

Louis was stunned. He waited for a few seconds before he clicked on "undo retweet". No he wasn't gonna mope about Harry, Harry who simply didn't ever care about Louis, Harry who kept lying to him. Louis shuddered to think about all those times he thought him and Harry actually had something. Was Harry lying through it all? He couldn't think about it anymore. No,no, no. He won't think about Harry. He won't let him affect him. Enough of all that shit. He sat frozen in his spot in the couch when the bell rang.

Louis absent-mindedly made his way to the door. His heart sank when he saw who was standing outside. Harry.

"Louis believe me! It's not what it looks like," Harry said, panic stricken.

"Get out of here," Louis' ocean blue eyes bore a thunder like expression, his voice steely.

"Lou I'm sorry."

"As you should be."

"Louis, pl-"

"You broke my heart Harry Styles."

"But-"

"Good. Fucking. Bye." Slam.

Louis shut the door in Harry's face and slowly made his way back to the couch. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

No sooner did he fall back on the couch than Clifford came running to him. He leapt up on Louis' lap and Louis broke down.

"Harry broke our heart Cliffy," he said between sobs. "He never liked us. It was all a big lie."

Clifford lapped up the tears keen on making Louis stop crying, but Louis went on and on. "We shouldn't have made friends with him. Such a waste!" Louis hugged Clifford tightly and Clifford made a sad whimper and settled his head on Louis' shoulder.

For a few minutes, no other sound could be heard in the apartment other than Louis' sobs and hiccups.

Suddenly the bell rang again. Clifford jumped from his lap and began sniffed around the door. Thinking it was Harry, Louis decided to ignore it but then the bell rang twice again and Clifford started to bark happily. Louis wiped his tears and walked up to the door and there stood Zayn grinning ear to ear and holding a McDonald's pack, but his grin faded when he saw Louis' tear stained face and red-rimmed eyes.

Louis flung himself on Zayn and began crying again. Zayn hugged back the shaking sobbing mess in his arms and asked slowly, "hey hey Lou, what happened? I'm here. Tell me."

"Harry-", that's the only word Zayn could make out from Louis' muffled sobs.

"What about Harry?"

Louis stepped back from the hug and pulled out his phone. He showed Zayn the tweet and Zayn was equally shocked. "What the fuck is this? What? No this can't be true. I'm sure this is some rumour. Remember he told you once, how he's set up with every girl he's spotted with."

"It's not just that-" Louis replied before breaking down again.

"Hey ,hey please don't cry. You know what, let's go for a drive. Let's get you out of here and you can tell me everything that happened."

Louis silently nodded and bringing Clifford out of the house, locked the door behind him. Dropping Clifford off at the dog park, so he could play with his friends, Zayn drove off with Louis.

Zayn offered him the milkshake and and hash browns and let him eat in silence as Louis slowly regained his composure. One by one, Louis told Zayn everything that had been happening, from the day out with Harry, Theo and Lux, to the sudden change in behaviour two days later, to yesterday's almost argument to Harry showing up today after the article was dropped.

Zayn listened in silence and tried to make sense of what Louis was saying. The incidents didn't add up. He'd really taken a liking to Harry and he couldn't process that Harry would do something like that.

But then again, the sight of his best friend sitting miserable next to him, was making his heart harden towards Harry. He tried to reason with Louis, who refused to listen to anything. Zayn sighed and asked, "music?" hoping that'd calm Louis a bit and help Zayn think.

Zayn tuned in to the radio and a soft melody sounded,

"I want her long blond hair

I want her magic touch

Yeah, 'cause maybe then

You'd want me just as much

I've got a girl cru-"

One look at Louis' face and Zayn slammed the music shut.

Why was everything so difficult?!

Zayn had driven them to a club on the outskirts of the city. The club was pretty famous but owing to it's high maintenance, was mostly accessed by celebrities or people connected to celebrities and was much less crowded compared to the other. Well, a quiet cafe would have been nice too except, now that more people knew Louis and connected him to Harry, if anyone spotted Louis like this, it'd raise an issue. Hence, a club with dim lights and loud music it was.

Zayn led Louis to booth and after making sure Louis was a bit stable, went off to buy drinks.

Zayn didn't drink because he had to drive Louis back but after 3 rounds of drinks Louis was feeling lightheaded, but at the same time, it was very distracting. Zayn kept talking to him about different topics, not bringing up Harry until Louis did that himself.

Eventually Louis started talking.

"I don't understand one thing Zee," he slurred, "that if this was indeed some rumour, why didn't he talk to me? He was clearly avoiding me this week."

Zayn knew whatever he said won't have much of an effect on him, so he just kept rubbing soothing circles on Louis' back. Talking for so long had efficiently tired Louis out and he asked to be taken back home when suddenly,

"Louis! Zayn!"

The duo looked up see a blond haired someone walking towards them, but they couldn't make out the face. It wasn't until the person was right in front if them and the lights fell directly on the face that they made out who it was. Taylor Swift.

Taylor smiled down at the two boys who stared unblinkingly at her, unable to say a word.

"Hi? You guys okay? Can I join you?"

Zayn came back to his senses and smiled, "yeah sure."

Taylor joined them in the booth and looked at Louis again, who was still staring with a blank expression at Taylor.

"What's up with him?" Taylor asked Zayn.

Zayn looked at Louis and then back again at Taylor, "uh, nothing, just work stress. We just came to get some steam off." There's no way he could tell what really had happened.

"Huh, tell me about it. I'm so tired with all the promo work," she replied.

And that's when it hit him. Taylor was dating Harry too. Up until now, he was just thinking about it from Louis' point of view and thinking about how Harry broke Louis' heart but now it dawned on him that it meant Taylor was involved too. Taylor, the person Zayn had liked for quite some time and had to bury his feelings for the sake of his profession.

Here he was, consoling his friend, trying to mend his broken heart, when the reason his own heart ached had decided to grace them with a visit. Things couldn't be worse. Zayn pushed down the pang of sadness he was feeling and tried to think of something to say when Louis started sobbing again. Taylor's presence seemed to have reminded him about Harry.

Louis didn't take Harry's name but went on and on about a certain someone who'd broken his heart. Taylor listened with interest and tried to console him best as she could. Her words were actually effective on Louis who had eventually stopped crying and was listening with rapt attention to Taylor. Zayn himself tried to take in some of the advice, and surprisingly it was good. Taylor really had the magical ability to comfort sad people.

After a while Louis got more drunk and insisted on taking a picture with Taylor and Zayn happily complied because Louis' mind was finally off Harry's.

Soon they bid their goodbyes and left the club, and Zayn drove back with a less sad but slightly drunk Louis.

---

When Louis shut the door on Harry's face, he didn't see how crestfallen Harry looked. He didn't see how Harry ran to his car, barely able to control his tears, which had started falling incessantly thinking that Louis hated him. Harry drove to his apartment, not wanting to face Niall. He knew what Niall would say, I told you to talk to Louis. You should have listened.

No, Harry needed to be alone for a while.

Dave, Harry's personal assistant, noticed something was off and made a whole flask of hot chocolate for Harry and quietly slipped it in his room.

Harry spend quite some time drinking the hot chocolate and thinking about the good times he'd spent with Louis when his phone rang with a notification.

Harry was taken by surprise. What on earth was Louis doing with Taylor? Especially today? What could have possibly happened for them to hang out and for Louis to even post a picture?

Probably Harry was the only person he hated, probably he adored Taylor way too much to think bad of her. Whatever might be the case, Harry was sure of one thing- Louis hated him and Harry had lost his chance at love. Yes, love.

At this point Harry knew, that he was head over heels in love with Louis and he had ended up hurting him.

He'd lost Louis, probably forever.

PREVIOUS / NEXT [ note ]

INTRO

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lafiametta · 4 years ago

Note

‘Braid’ for the helnik prompts?

Modern AU, mostly based off of this SAB promo video where Danielle admits she doesn't know how to ride a bike. Hope you enjoy!

After the seventh time, Matthias told himself he wasn’t allowed to check his watch again.

She’ll get here when she gets here, he repeated like a mantra. Besides, he knew she wasn’t standing him up, at least based on the text he had gotten a few minutes earlier.

sorry running late c u soon nina xo

Fifteen minutes later and he was contemplating sending a reply—definitely something casual, maybe a touch concerned, if only to see if she was alright—when he saw her coming down the sidewalk, a warm smile of recognition on her lips.

Matthias had met Nina Zenik three days ago at his neighborhood coffeeshop. He had gone in to grab his regular before heading to work, but somehow hadn’t managed to notice the person beside him at the pick-up counter, or foreseen that she would turn and run straight into him, spilling his coffee all over his Italian loafers and the floor. She was immediately apologetic, offering to get him a new drink to make up for it. Under normal circumstances, Matthias would have declined and simply written the whole thing off as an irritating blip in his morning routine, but then she looked at him, emerald-bright eyes under dark lashes, and he found himself nodding in agreement, his shoes—and his morning routine—forgotten entirely. He had ended up joining her at a table while they sipped their drinks—his dark roast, her caramel vanilla latte—and eventually exchanged numbers, along with plans for an afternoon date this coming Saturday.

(When Matthias finally made it to work, he tried to sneak in quietly, hoping no one would notice that he was almost two hours late.)

Nina looked just as beautiful as he remembered: freckled skin, full lips, curves in all the right places. Matthias wasn’t necessarily one to notice women’s outfits, but she was dressed perfectly for the summer afternoon in jean shorts and a striped t-shirt, leather sandals on her feet and a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. As she came closer, he could see she had even braided her hair—one of those complicated French things that seemed impossible to create with only two hands—although a few wisps had come loose, forming a soft dark corona around her head.

“Hey, there,” she said. Her smile grew wide and warm, and his heart stumbled for a second, like it had tripped on some invisible curb. “So, what adventure do you have planned for us?”

“How do you feel about picnics?”

“Number one fan. I’m also partial to brunch and happy hours and any other combination of sunshine and food. You know,” she added, arching an eyebrow, “just for future reference.”

“Noted.”

Matthias began to steer them down the sidewalk, just to the corner where a rack of identical bikes sat waiting. The city had installed them a year or so ago as part of a ride-sharing program, and while he would often see people on them, zipping down bike lanes and park paths, he had never had an occasion to try one out before—until today.

“So I thought we could bike down to the city gardens and maybe do a little loop around the reservoir. After that, we can go find a good picnic spot.” He turned a little so she could see the backpack he had strapped to his shoulders. “I brought sandwiches and fruit and cold drinks. And a blanket, of course.”

Nina’s expression had gone blank, a dark little cloud beginning to form across her features.

“That all sounds great, really—except there’s just one small problem.”

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t ride a bike.”

Matthias paused, thoroughly perplexed. “Wait, you can’t? Or you won’t?”

“No, I just—” She shrugged, her mouth tightening in resignation. “I never learned how.”

“You never learned how to ride a bike? Not even as a kid?” he asked in apparent disbelief. Her green eyes flashed with irritation, prompting him to quickly backtrack. “Sorry, sorry.”

Matthias could feel his heart sinking; he had been fairly proud of everything he had planned for their outing, and now he could feel it all slipping away due to some ridiculous twist of fate he couldn’t have possibly been expected to foresee. Didn’t everyone know how to ride a bike? He had been seven when his dad taught him, brought him out to the sidewalk in front of their house and held the seat upright as Matthias did his best to pedal and stay balanced at the same time. Suddenly, the idea struck him, making him feel even dumber for not having come up with it sooner.

“Hey, look—” he said to her, “why don’t I just teach you right now?”

Her brows narrowed doubtfully. “You want to teach me how to ride a bike?”

“It’s not that hard. Little kids do it all the time,” he added, offering her a teasing grin. He could feel her being won over, the hesitation in her gaze slowly disappearing. “C’mon...”

“Okay,” Nina said, eyeing him carefully, even as the corners of her mouth began to curl upwards. “But there better be some spectacular sandwiches stowed away in that backpack.”

It took them a few minutes to get two bikes off of the rack—there was some business with QR codes and an app—and then Matthias walked them over to a little alleyway that seemed fairly safe to practice in. There weren’t any cars and the only possible thing she could possibly run into was a metal dumpster about fifty yards away. He leaned his bike up against the wall of the adjacent building and then went to help her with her own.

Before they could get started, though, he zipped open his backpack and handed her one of the two items tucked right on top.

“A helmet?” she scoffed. “Really?”

“It’s required, you know. By law.” He tried to ignore how ridiculous he sounded—like a safety-obsessed killjoy, no doubt—and proceeded to give her his most serious-looking expression. “Also, head injuries can create a lot of blood.”

Nina rolled her eyes at him, even as her voice turned playful. “I bet you say that to all the girls...”

Before she could strap on the helmet, though, she had to slip her sunglasses off her head. She folded them up and tucked them into the front of her t-shirt collar, the weight tugging a little on the scoop neck, while Matthias did his best not to stare at the shadowy hint of cleavage now visible at the bottom of her neckline.

He helped her adjust the seat down and then test out the brakes, until she was finally ready to get started. She swung a leg over and found a seat, her hands tightly gripping the handles.

“Start by putting one of your feet on the pedals,” he told her, watching as she followed his instructions. “Okay, now take your other foot—the one on the ground—and push off. Just coast for a few seconds.”

Nina nodded, then turned forward with a sharp look of determination. She was bigger than a child, so it wouldn’t do any good to hold the seat for her; instead he stood alongside, his arms braced to catch the handlebars and the seat if it came to that. With one foot, she pushed herself forward, wobbling just a bit before she came to a stop.

The grin on her face was nothing short of triumphant.

“That was great!” he said, wanting to do anything he could to keep her smiling like that. “Want to try again?”

This time, she didn’t hesitate, pushing off a bit harder against the ground. She must have started pedaling a little too, because she started going faster, and suddenly she looked over at him, eyes widening with alarm. The handlebars turned with her gaze and all at once she was swerving, the bike seemingly ready to topple.

Matthias did the only thing he could do: he caught her in his arms.

It took them a moment or so to recover—a long moment where all he could think about was how warm and soft she felt, the way her ribcage was gently expanding under his hand, the sweet flowery scent of her shampoo—and then he quickly swallowed and took a step back to help her right the bike. He could hear the waver in her breath, no doubt due to her near-fall.

“Good thing I was wearing that helmet, huh?” Nina teased, warmth edging into those bright green eyes.

“Yeah... lucky,” he stammered.

“So—” She glanced down at the bike underneath her. “Third time’s a charm?”

After a steadying breath, she pushed off again, letting her balance keep her upright before she began to pedal her feet. The handlebars trembled, but she did her best to hold them steady as she traveled another few feet.

“Keep looking straight ahead,” he said encouragingly, keeping his hand along her lower back. “It’ll go in the direction you look.”

With a burst of confidence, she picked up speed, fast enough that he let go and just looked on as she moved further into the alleyway. Matthias found himself smiling as he watched her, observing proudly as she turned the bike a little to the left and then to the right, eventually swiveling back to go in the original direction. After a few seconds, she swerved again, this time in a wide loop, pedaling until she had completely turned around and was coming towards him once more.

She laughed as she passed by him, a sound of pure delight. “Matthias!” she squealed, her feet moving faster. “I think you’re going to have to come catch me again!”

Eventually, he thought, she was going to have to stop—but she didn’t, not even when she was coming close to the end of the alleyway.

“Wait, Nina!” he yelled, and suddenly he was scrambling for the bike he had left against the wall, barely managing to get it upright before he took off after her.

And as he sped up, he could see her half-silhouetted in the distance—her body moving in sync with the wheels underneath her—a joyous smile lighting up her face, the tail of her braid fluttering in the warm afternoon air.

[send me a one-word Helnik prompt]

#helnik #nina zenik #matthias helvar #shadow and bone #six of crows #fanfiction #helnik fic #karis-the-fangirl #this one turned out longer than i had originally intended #but i'm sure none of y'all will mind :)

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dreams-of-wings · 5 years ago

Text

Daughter of the Devil

Imagine: Being Hades Daughter and meeting Carlos for the first time.

Small warning: So from rewatching D3 about 5 times I realized while I was writing this that Hades never actually used his powers on the Island, nor does the Ember actually glow either till it gets past the barrier - even though the promos that showed Hades in his hideout did in fact have him burst into flames. So for the sake of my sanity, let's say the barrier effects him a little differently because he is infact a god so I would like to think that the majority if not all of his powers do not come from magic, but also for the sake of him not being OP - it does hold him back like a lot.

It was a stupid move, Carlos would admit that. Some punks managed to corner him and hustled him for anything valuable he had on him. They let him go after they took his shoes, a couple nice shiny things he managed to snag, and the jacket off his back, but they said something and he just got so angry. He mouthed off to them and now he was running for his life, ducking weaving, jumping over obstacles. He was scared to look back, worried that if he did it would just allow his pursuers to catch up faster. He huffed, and wheezed as he ran through the tarnished, dirty alleyways of the Isle - knocking over a few garbage cans and unsupported stands. He hadn't noticed he was running out of things to help protect himself till he frantically looked from side to side and noticed there was nothing, and no one he could use as a shield. He went for the only thing he could - an old abandoned warehouse. Maybe he could find something there he could hide in.

Carlos could see the silhouettes of the thugs chasing after him, and he stumbled to quickly open the large sliding metal doors before turning around and closing them behind him in a desperate attempt to put up a barrier between him and them. When he turned around his blood ran cold, and his face paled. There was absolutely nothing here for him, no where to hide, nothing to defend himself with - just some large support columns and beams that were sturdy enough to keep the building standing for a few more years. There was an old red, rusted, metal staircase at the back but he couldn't see what it lead to since the top was covered by thick plastic and tattered cloth.

Carlos gasped when he heard the large door rattle from behind him, and he jumped back a few steps, almost falling onto his rear end from lack of coordination.

"We know you're in there twerp!"

Those kids were messing with him. Rattling the door and banging on it just to scare him.

"Go away!" Carlos screamed at the door, half knowing it was a pathetic attempt at getting the bullies to back of. He really did fall back when the steel door flew open, "No, no, no!"

"Just who do you think you are?!" The one who was obviously the leader of the group stomped a few steps forward. He was large, granted Carlos was pretty small compared to most of the kids his age. The salt and pepper haird boy panicked and tried to crawl back and away from the approaching group, "I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, your gonna' be!" The stocky boy to the right baited Carlos, moving toward him like he was going to lunge and causing him to flinch.

"I already gave you everything I had!"

The three larger boys were about to go for him when they heard an unfamiliar voice, "Hello?"

Carlos hadn't heard the voice over the sound of his own rapidly beating heart and labored breaths. However, the lack of punching and kicking got his attention, and he quieted long enough to hear the sound of metal 'thumps' and creaking under footsteps. He risked a peak through his arms towards the staircase he had seen earlier and saw what looked like a little girl with long, wild, vivid blue ombre hair. She wore tattered cloths and a well worn denim jacket that was definitely a few sizes too big for her. Before he knew it, Carlos had unfurled himself from the fetal position and now laid flat on his stomach on the cold cement.

"What's going on?" You stood at the bottom of the stairs, head tilted slightly to the right in confusion.

"None of your business," the leader of the thugs spoke up.

"Well you're in my house, so that makes it my business," you were quick to snap back. You had a short temper, just like your father.

Carlos' mouth dropped open, you looked like a harmless little girl, but your attitude seemed to suggest that you could handle yourself.

"We're just trying to get back what this twerp took from us!" The slightly lankier thug who had remained silent till now spoke up, and the stocky one backed him up, "Yeah, and he thought he could hide here so we followed him."

"Really?"

"Yeah," the leader smirked. Maybe they could get you on their side, then they could add getting beat up by a girl to the list of things they pick on Carlos for, "So you see, he's the one really trespassing. We're just trying to make sure he pay's for it."

Carlos swallowed thickly, looking back and forth between both sides as the exchange happened and he frantically shook his head, "N-no!"

"Cause it doesn't really look like he has much on him," the curious look on your face contorted into an angry frown - with your brows furrowing and your previously wide-eyed gaze turning sharp. The three thugs felt a chill go up their spine, as did Carlos.

"Look, girly," the leader took one step back as you took one forward, "If you're not going to help then beat it!"

"Who are you to tell me to leave?!" Your long tresses bursted into blue flames that extended down your arms. All four of them flinched back slightly both from fear and shock. How did you have magic on the Isle?

"This is my house," you took a couple more steps forward, "You don't have a say in what I do!"

Carlos practically lept to the side and out of your path as you continued your way towards the three burly boys, causing them to stumble back before they practically tripped over eachother to get to the warehouse entrance. Never had you heard such large boys produce such shrill screams.

"You're gonna' regret this!" The largest one had the nerve to turn around once he had crossed the entrance threshold and shake his fist at you.

"Try me." You watched them as they disappeared from sight through the alleyway they came from, all while your flames slowly died down to nothing. You almost forgot Carlos was there till you heard a quiet 'thump', and you whipped around. He had been trying to get up, but in his haste to leave before you could see him he slipped on a damp spot of old oil mixed with water. Carlos flinched when you turned to look at him, but quickly averted his gaze to the ground, "S-sorry," his voice was small, "I didn't mean to trespass."

You quickly made your way to him, causing him to flinch as you rapidly closed the already small distance between you and him, and for a second he cowered- afraid of what you would do to him with your flames. A moment passed, and when he felt no kicks, punches, slaps, or searing flames he looked up, eyes immediately landing on your extended hand.

He sat there for a good few seconds, mouth agape in awe. Were you helping him? His brows furrowed in confusion before he dragged his gaze upward, "What do you get out of it?"

"I was hoping a friend."

What?

"A friend?" Now he was definitely confused. No one on this island tries to make friends, just allies -if you can even call them that- relationships where both parties benefit, and there was no way you thought you could possibly benefit from having him as a "friend", right?

Before he knew it you crouched down to his level and gently took a hold of his hand - his still open mouth snapping shut at the action before he allowed you to pull him up. You took this as more of a 'yes' rather than a 'you know what you're right, I should at least get off the floor', and proceeded to drag him towards the red staircase, "C'mon!'

Carlos was still trying to process whether or not this was actually happening, and it nearly made him trip over the steps as you lead him to the top, "Hold on!" The platform the metal stairs led to was surrounded by those thick plastic bags and tattered fabric he had noted earlier, but now he would see that they hung and were tied to some lower beams - effectively shutting the world out. He didn't really have time to inspect any further as he was pulled through some makeshift curtains, and into a room that must have previously been some sort of office.

An old desk laid against the wall to the left, decaying wooden book shelves were huddled and grouped to the far right, and any other mesilanious items that would make an office an office lined the walls - all to make room for the mountain of torn blankets and patchy pillows that were in the center. How long had you been staying here? It was normally hard for kids yours and his age to keep a mildly decent place like this, usually the older residents of the island would have chased off anyone else from a place like this.

"Sit, sit!" Carlos was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice. He glanced around the room one last time before cautiously making his way to the pile of fabric at the center of the room and sitting, watching as you walked over to the fallen over desk.

You shoved off the large piece of damp old wood that you had haphazardly thrown over the opening where someone would normally put their legs, and pulled out a black garbage bag. Carlos' brows furrowed as he watched you struggle with it for a moment, and he was about to go help you move it when you finally managed to pull it out of your little hiding spot before dragging it over to him.

What was in it? Stolen knickknacks? A dead body? Several dead bodies?

The trash bag rustled as you opened it.

Food?!

Carlos forgot his manners for a moment and snagged the loaf of bread that was at the top of the pile. He briefly wondered how you were able to get such a nice looking piece of bread till he turned it over and noticed it was burnt. Oh. Still pretty good though as far as Isle of the Lost quality is concerned. He rubbed off the chard flakes that created a shell over the bread, tore away the inedible portion, and was about to take a bite out of it when he paused and looked at you.

"Sorry," Carlos moved to hand the bread back to you, but you shook your head and sat down cross legged.

"Eat," you lightly pushed the bread back over to him.

He looked concerned for a moment, looking down at the loaf of bread before breaking it in half as best he could, and handed you the slightly large piece. You smiled and happily took it, placing it on your lap before rummaging through the bag.

The bag was full of food. Mostly canned goods that were past their expiration date - but that was the good thing about most canned food: they had a long shelf life and should be fine so long as they're sealed properly. You saw what you had been looking for and smiled with glee as you pulled it out. A quarter wheel of cheese. It had a bit of green mold beginning to grow on the corner, but you simply broke up that bit and tossed it to the side to let it be forgotten. Such a waist of food - figures those Auradon pansies wouldn't know that cheese wheels are dense enough to allow you to break off molded pieces and still have it be edible. Or perhaps they did know, but threw it out anyways because it wouldn't fit their 5 star standards.

You break the cheese in half and pass one half to the frost haired boy before you.

"I dont even know who you are..." Carlos felt a bit guilty. Maybe he shouldn't be taking your food. So far it seemed like you had no one, while he still had a mom to go home to. Sure she was terrible. But parenteral issues weren't exactly rare on the island. Still though, here you were- living in an old abandoned warehouse, sleeping on a pile of old, torn, smelly blankets, and scavenging for something to eat that wouldn't give you food poisoning. Carlos had gotten lost in thought again, and hadn't realized you said something.

"Huh?"

You introduced yourself again, leaving out the part about how your father is Hades, the God of the Underworld before asking him what his name was.

"Carlos," he smiled, watching as you took a bite out of the bread before taking one out of the cheese. He took that as his cue to eat as well, "I don't think I've ever seen you around?" Which was odd because this was a small island and there really was nothing to do other than wander and steal.

"I keep to myself," you shrugged, "I stay in the places where their aren't very many people."

He nodded and continued to eat, causing a silence to fall over the both of you. How does one make friends?

"Do you get picked on a lot?"

Carlos was caught off guard by that question. He wanted to lie and say no, but something told him you would know it wasn't the truth, "Sometimes," now it was his turn to shrug, "but I try to keep my head down," he said through a full mouth, "keep to myself and avoid trouble. Trouble kinda seems to find me though..."

"Those guys were jerks who obviously have nothing better to do," you interjected.

"What else is there to do?" Most of the youth on the island spent their free time engaging in gang activity.

"Nap," you answered simply. It was you and your father's favorite pastime.

Carlos snorted at this, "Napping is for babies."

"Napping is for everyone," you defended, "Napping helps you grow." You paused to look out the window towards the back of the room, "Shoot!"

Carlos looked back as well and furrowed his brows in confusion. The sun must have been going down. It was hard to tell on the Isle of the Lost due to all the clouds, but the sky would turn a dreary, muggy, pinkish-orange color around sunset.

"What," he turned back to look at you, but you were already tying the plastic bag back up and stashing it back in the desk before quickly tossing your half of the food in his lap.

"I have to go, or my dad's gonna kill me!"

Wait so you did have you parents?

"Your dad?" He sounded confused. He thought you lived by yourself, he thought this was your home.

"It is my home."

Oh, did he say that outloud?

"My home away from home." You dragged the plywood back onto the desk to keep your stash of food hidden, " if it were up to my dad, I would never leave our home."

You patted off your clothes before making a beeline for the entrance to your little den.

"Wait!" Carlos staggered to his feet, almost dropping the cheese and bread as he stood and by the time he got his bearings he could hear you making your way quickly down the stairs, "Hold on!"

He ran for the doorway, food still in his arms, "What about your half?!" By the time he got to a point on the steps where he could see you, you were half way across the warehouse.

"Keep it!" You called without looking back. You could hear the squeaking of shoes with crappy grips accompanied by the rattling of metal mesh as Carlos tried his best to catch up to you, "Hey!"

You stopped when you were at the entrance to the warehouse and turned to look back at the boy, "What?"

"C-could I maybe stay here a while?" He looked down at the ground, glancing up at you for a brief second before returning his gaze to the cement floor - like he was ashamed of asking, "I'm worried those guys might be waiting for me on my route home."

"Sure!"

He quickly looked up at you, slightly gobsmacked. You nodded and smiled, opening the sliding door, exiting the building, and then closing it behind you before you headed home.

Once you were sure you were out of earshot you let out a giddy giggle, happy you may have made a new friend.

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calpalirwin · 4 years ago

Text

Meddling

Summary: Every story’s gotta start somewhere

A/N: The (way more detailed) origin story nobody asked for because after reading @cxddlyash‘s spin on the end of this story, I wanted to rework some of it on my end.

Content: Take a wild guess

Word Count: ~4k

And away, and away we go!

Caroline Bennett placed a sneakered foot on the rung on her dolly cart, shifting the weight so she could wheel it into the venue. “Merch booth, merch booth, merch booth,” she muttered under her breath as a way to keep her focus on the task at hand rather than how weird it felt to be walking through an arena meant to house far more people than it currently did. If she had to take a guess, there were maybe 50 people or so in the building, compared to the 5,000 that would be pouring through the doors in a matter of hours. But she didn’t care about the 5,000 people because she’d be long gone by then. Right now, her only focus was finding 1 out of 50, because god damn it, how hard could it be to find the fuckin merch table?!

“You’re not Nate,” an accented voice questioned, almost making her lose her grip on her cart with how close it was to her.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed, hurrying to adjust so the boxes didn’t go flying everywhere. Because that would be what she needed, to spill merchandise all over the place on her first day.

“Somehow I doubt that,” the voice said again, and she could hear the smirk before she saw who it belonged to- a boy, well man, she supposed, of about her age and about a foot taller. Soft brown curls were tightly contained by a bright-red bandana he had plastered to his forehead. If that wasn’t a dead-giveaway as to who he was, the drumsticks in the back pocket of his black skinny jeans sure were. Know everybody’s name, from the top to the bottom, her dad had taught her. “Wanna try again? It’s simple really. I say ‘hey you’re not my regular delivery guy.’ And then you go, ‘No, I’m,’ and then, here’s the crazy part. You tell me your name. And then I tell you mine, and well… you do know how meeting people goes, I hope.”

“Just point me to your promo team,” she scowled.

“Ashton Irwin, at your service.” He did a mock bow, somehow smirking even wider.

“You’re not the promo team.”

“And you’re not Nate, merch girl. But you clearly do your research.”

“I’m good at my job, you mean.”

“That’s still to be decided. Seeing how it’s your first day and all. C’mon, follow me.” He started to lead her towards what she assumed would be the merch table. “So, how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Oh, so you’re the same age as my bandmates. Well, almost. Two of ‘em are nineteen. Luke’s still eighteen.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Ashton laughed. “You’re smart. I like that. You single, merch girl?”

“How is that any of your business?”

He held up his hands defensively. “Just making conversation, shit. If you’re in charge of our LA deliveries, then you’re gonna be seeing an awful lot of me.”

“I was told I wouldn’t be dealing directly with bands.”

“Yeah, normally. But we like to make a lot of our merch so I try to know as much about it as I can.”

“Mmm, and the rest of your band?”

“They’re around. Why? You happen to fancy one of them more than your dear friend, Ash?” He pouted his lips at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know which is the bolder assumption. That I fancy you, or that we’re friends when you don’t even know my name.”

“I would know it if you told me, merch girl.”

“It’s Caroline.”

He grinned, and if he wasn’t so infuriating, the dimples in his cheek and the lights bouncing off his hazel eyes would be downright swoon-worthy. But good God, he was annoying. “You can drop this stuff right here, Caroline.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, setting her cart upright and reaching for the top box.

“Not a problem,” he said, grabbing the box underneath hers to help her unload faster.

“Did I make you mad or something?” he asked after they unloaded in total silence.

“What?” she asked, as she double checked the order form against the boxes. “No, I’m not mad.”

“Okay. Cuz I wasn’t joking earlier. Like if you’re on our account now, you will be seeing a lot of me. And I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything. But stiff professionalism never really spoke to me. So I’d much rather if we could try to be friends, you know?”

“I can be your friend, Ash. I just can’t be more than that.”

Ashton chuckled, “Damn, you sound a lot like Luke.”

She arched an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Not that way!” he rushed, his cheeks flaming. “I meant that he’s also told me he doesn’t want to focus on a relationship right now. Which kinda sucks cuz thinking about it, you two would work really well together.”

“You hardly know me…”

“Call it instinct then, Miss Skeptic.”

“I think I liked ‘merch girl’ better. Here,” she thrust the order form in his chest. “Sign this.”

~~~

~Three Years Later~

“You seriously want more of the black hoodies than the white ones?” Caroline asked as she looked at the computer screen.

“Yes,” Ashton told her and she could hear the eye roll. “People like black.”

“People are also gonna like the white ones, especially when they see you modeling it,” she told him.

“Aw, you flatter me,” he deadpanned. “Who calls the shots here?”

“Fine, fine,” she said, punching in the right number for his order. “But don’t come crying to me when you get stuck with shit you can’t sell.”

“When have I ever?” he gloated.

She sighed. He was right. The drummer knew his audience in terms of what they liked and which items were more popular. And all she had was a hunch.

“Hey, how’d that date with… uh… fuckin hell what was his name…” Ashton fought to remember the name.

“Brandon,” Caroline reminded him. “We broke up like three months ago. Guy was a dumbass. Where have you been?”

“Making an album and planning new merch for a tour. Why was he a dumbass? I thought you liked him.”

“I did, up until he turned into every other guy, Ash. He thought my job is so fuckin sick until he saw that I’m actually friends with you other dumbasses, and then I turned into a groupie all of sudden.”

“That’s fuckin disgusting.”

“Yeah, tell me about it…”

“So what you need is a guy who gets it.”

“Ash, for the last time, I’m not going out with you,” she joked.

“Okay, 1.) Ouch. 2.) I’ve never asked you out so what the fuck do you mean ‘for the last time’? And 3.) I don’t mean me, although I’m flattered you think of me that way.”

“I don’t think of you that way. I don’t think of you at all actually.”

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious. I see why all the guys are beating down your door.”

“Oh, fuck off!” she laughed. “But yeah, you’re right. I do need a guy that gets it. Problem is, I keep ending up with guys who are only pretending to get it.”

“Well… I might know a guy.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Yeah. Luke. About giraffe high. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Killer front man.”

“You mean the one who wasn’t looking for a relationship because he was working on himself?”

“The very one!” Ashton applauded her memory. “Look, I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it would work out. I wouldn’t fuck with you both like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Ash. And I appreciate you looking out for me, I do.”

“So…?”

“You know me, Ash. If he asks me out, I’ll give him a fair chance.”

“Cool. You’re still making deliveries right? Or did they finally get wise, and promote you?”

“They promoted me. I’m in charge of your account now, along with a few others.”

“Nice! Although, that kinda puts a damper on you and Luke meeting. I was counting on that delivery next week. Damn…”

“Oh, I’m still making deliveries. It’s weird though. See, I got the promotion, but then my boss said I was still requested to do deliveries for one of my accounts. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

“Not a damn thing,” he lied through his teeth. “But, that’s good. Must mean the promo team likes you.”

“Yeah, ‘promo’ team.”

“So, see you next week?”

She laughed. “Yep. See ya Ash.”

~~~

“Luke, mate, you gotta sign those posters,” Ashton said, stirring Luke in the direction of the merch booth, knowing Caroline would be there any minute.

“Alright, I got it!” the blonde huffed at his friend, stepping to walk beside Ashton so he’d stopped getting shoved forward. “Geez, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is, there’s a girl coming later and if you don’t ask her on a date, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Luke stalled, turning to face his friend, eyes wide. “You promised someone I’d ask them out?! Without checking with me first?! Ash…”

“Relax, mate. You’ll like her, I promise.”

“I’m gonna fuckin kill you, is what I’m gonna do,” Luke threatened.

“Kill me, and you’ll have to find another drummer. And that would suck on such short notice. Might have to cancel a show, maybe more, while you guys get a replacement. Really bad for business.”

Luke glowered.

“Just trust me, okay? Just ask her on one date. One single date. That’s it.”

“This better be one hell of a girl…”

“Oh, she is. Don’t worry.”

As Luke stomped off to sign posters and await this girl he was supposed to ask out, Caroline walked confidently through the near empty amphitheater, a feeling she had really come to enjoy. There was something calming about walking silently through a place meant to be packed tightly with bodies with music so loud you could feel it in your bones. The calm before the storm, as she’d come to view it.

“Merch order,” she said, walking right up to a booth with a single man behind it. His blonde curls covered his face, a stack of posters beside him and a Sharpie resting delicately between his fingers. She rolled her eyes immediately. Ashton was going to pay for this one way or another.

Luke didn’t look up as he scrawled a loopy autograph across the poster at the top of the pile, setting it aside before repeating the same practiced scribble. “Can leave it right there,” he said, curls shifting across his forehead as he nodded over his shoulder in indication of where she could put the boxes. “What’s the order?”

“You don’t know what you ordered?” Caroline asked, grabbing the top box from her dolly cart and dropping it in the ground with a thump! She knew he didn’t. In three years, she’d never once crossed his path. God, what had Ashton been thinking?

“Not part of the promo team. I just get told to sign the posters.”

“Careful not to get a hand cramp there, rockstar,” she teased, dropping another box.

Her comment was enough for the blue eyes to snap over in her direction. He swore under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up to his full height. “Shit, here. Let me give you a hand with those.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Caroline tried to brush him off, but their hands were already knocking into each other as they both reached for the next box. Caroline’s cheeks flushed as she dropped her hands, letting Luke grab the boxes as she instead busied herself with the itemized order form on her clipboard. “So, it’s a box of extra large shirts. 1 box of large. And a half and half box of medium and small. All men standard sizes.” She could hear the slight shake in her voice and she was definitely going to murder a certain drummer for this occurrence.

“A box of the black hoodies, in various sizes, and then a last box of random odds and ends. Keychains, pins, CDs, the sorts,” another voice finished as a man with brown curls cut closer to his head than the blonde’s spoke up behind them. Just the man she was looking for. “Thanks, merch girl.”

“It’s Caroline, Ash. How many times do we have to go over this?” Caroline said as she turned on her heel, arms opening to hug the man. “I’m gonna fuckin kill you,” she whispered low in his ear.

“Good to see ya too, love,” Ashton chuckled, accepting the hug.

“You two know each other?” the blonde man asked, an eyebrow arched in confusion.

“Yeah, Care’s been handling our merch for years. Have you two not met? Luke, Caroline. Caroline, Luke.”

The pieces clicked in Luke’s head, and he would have loved nothing more than to wipe that all-knowing smirk off Ashton’s face. He noted the way Caroline’s own fingers curled, like she was itching to do the same. And damn it all to hell, wasn’t she cute with her polo work shirt tucked into her blue jeans, and her brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, with little escaped strands framing brown eyes that snapped like fire as she glared up at Ashton? If this was the girl he’d be promised a date with… well shit… to say the pressure was on was definitely an understatement.

“Yeah, I know who he is, Ash. I’m not blind. But nice to officially meet you, Luke,” Caroline spoke first, opting to be polite. After all, Luke had helped her with the boxes. And he was pretty damn cute up close and in person.

“Pleasure,” Luke smiled, extending out his hand.

“Alright, if I can just get one of you to sign off on this…” She switched back into work mode to distract herself from how pink her cheeks were under Luke’s gaze.

“I got it,” Luke said, holding up his Sharpie as evidence.

“And maybe you can convince this one to order more of the white hoodies because those are going to sell better than your black ones,” she joked to Luke.

Both of the men laughed while Ashton scoffed, “Is that so?”

“Yep. Matter of fact, grab me one in medium.”

“Small,” Ashton corrected as Luke started ruffling through the stack of white hoodies.

“Lady said medium, Ash,” Luke said, handing Caroline the hoodie.

“Ooo, I like this one. He listens,” she smirked at Ashton who rolled his eyes playfully in response. “How much are you charging for these things?”

“$55,” Ashton answered.

“Highway robbery!” Caroline told them, digging into her back pocket anyway.

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke said, his fingers brushing against her arm as he tried to stop her. “It’s on us.”

“Yeah,” Ashton agreed. “No one’s gonna notice if those ones go missing anyway, cuz I’m telling you, nobody’s gonna want one.”

“Well I want one, and that should count for something. I’ll throw an extra hoodie in the next order, and we’ll call it even. How’s that?” Even though her words were directed at Ashton, she looked right up at Luke, almost daring him to ask the question all three of them were waiting on.

“How about a date instead?” Luke blurted out the magical words, and Ashton had the nerve stifled a laugh at his friend’s outburst, like he hadn’t orchestrated the whole thing.

Caroline kept Luke’s gaze, pushing a copy of the itemized order form into his chest. “You’re on, rockstar.”

~~~

“You know, I’m really glad you said yes. I didn’t think you would,” Luke confessed, fingers tugging nervously on the curls at the back of his neck. “I mean… I know Ash sort of forced both our hands. But you still could’ve said no, ya know?”

Caroline smiled over at him. “And miss out on all of this?” She gestured out to the city lights blinking in the distance. “A midnight picnic overlooking the city. Gotta say, this ranks pretty high on my list of first dates.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Plus my date’s pretty fuckin’ cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Luke chuckled. “You look stunning by the way. Don’t know if I told you that.”

Caroline blushed. “You did, when you picked me up. But, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Shit, sorry I’m so nervous. I just… I’m having trouble getting out of my head I guess.”

“Because of Ash?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m glad we’re here and all. Like you seem really nice. And you’re really cute. But…”

Caroline’s heart dropped. She had just been on the brink of forgiving Ashton for his meddling in the first place. But if his friend left her crying on the cliffside, she’d put that man six feet under if it was the last thing she did. “But what?” she forced herself to ask.

“Was worried you’d say no. Ash meddling or not, you’re still a woman with free will. You didn’t have to say yes.”

“Just like you didn’t have to ask me.”

“Why wouldn’t I ask you out?”

“Why wouldn’t I say yes?” she countered.

“We talked for maybe like what? Two minutes? And… I dunno. I know Ash is the one who pushed us both into this, but… you guys seem close. Shouldn’t this be you guys?”

Caroline shook her head. “Nah, Ash and I get along, sure. But no. I, uh, have that problem a lot, actually. A lot of rock bands are made up of men, and I supply a lot of rock band merch. People, guys especially, seem to take that the wrong way a lot of time.”

“N-no, I- I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not… I don’t see a problem with…” Luke fumbled over his words.

She laughed softly, moving one of her hands to rest it over his. “No, I know what you mean. Ash is your boy. You didn’t want to feel like you were swooping in on his girl, even if this was his idea. And that’s sweet of you. But, I am a free agent who can go on as many cute dates with as many cute boys as she likes.”

“How about as many cute dates as you like with only one cute guy?”

“Ooo, I dunno. He’d have to be pretty fuckin’ cute,” she flirted.

His eyes were soft, his touch softer as he leaned in for a kiss that sent shivers down her spine. “I’ve been told I’m pretty fuckin’ cute,” he murmured against her lips, his own quirked up in a smile.

~~~

“Merch girl!” Ashton chirped over the line. “You coming to the party on Friday? Lover boy misses you something awful.”

“Of course I’m gonna be there, Ash,” she laughed. “Lu asked me last week.”

“Well damn. What do I bother calling you for anymore now that you have him?”

“To bother me because that seems to be your favorite pastime? And you can’t be mad that your meddling worked, Ash. Wasn’t that the point?”

“Yeah, I’m happy for you guys, truly. But also kinda scared because now there’s two of you to plot revenge.”

“Oh, no fair! I didn’t know plotting revenge was an option!”

“Ha-ha, hilarious. Seriously, how high should my guard be up for this party?”

“If you want me to return the favor of meddling in your love life, all you need is ask.”

“See, I’ve seen the people you pick out for yourself… so, lemme think… yeah, hard pass.”

“Suit yourself. I’m still bringing my friend along. If I can persuade her to come, that is.”

“Ooo, shy friends. Those are always fun.”

“Oh, so you do want to be set up!”

“I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is that I happen to be a very, terribly so, single man. And if I so happen to be introduced to a pretty girl, I’ll take it from there.”

“Well I’ll see what I can do about getting that pretty girl to the party, then.”

~~~

“Oh, will you come on?” Caroline asked, exasperated as her friend Britt sat on the edge of her bed, picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“I don’t want to be a third wheel, Care.”

“You’re not gonna be a third wheel.”

“Is Luke going to be there.”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m a third wheel.”

“Oh, c’mon! There will be plenty of other people there, too. Maybe even the man of your dreams. But you won’t know that if you sit here, so c’mon!”

“I’m not like you, Care. I don’t go to work and come home with a husband.”

“Okay, 1.) Luke is not my husband. We’ve been on like maybe four dates. And 2.) it’s a good thing this is a party then, not a delivery.”

Britt let out a long sigh, weighing her options. “Better be some cute fuckin guys at this thing…” she muttered finally.

“Oh, there will be,” Caroline smirked. It wasn’t technically meddling if she just introduced Britt to Ashton. Wasn’t like she was promising Britt a date with the man or anything crazy like that.

~~~

“Merch girl!” Ashton greeted, spotting Caroline as her and Britt walked in.

“Hey, Ash,” Caroline said, giving the man a hug. “Missed ya guys.”

“Missed ya too, Care. But not as much as lover boy, over there.” He jerked a thumb over at Luke who was quickly pushing past people to get over to where they were. “Who’s this?” Ashton’s hazel eyes flickered over to Britt.

“This is my best friend, Britt. Britt, this is Ashton.” Caroline matched Ashton smirk for smirk.

“And I’m Luke,” Luke said, wrapping his arms around Caroline and pressing a big kiss to her cheek. “Missed you, baby,” he whispered low so only she could hear.

“Let’s get you girls something to drink. C’mon.” Ashton led the way deeper into the party. “So, how’d you meet Care?” he asked Britt.

“Kids,” Britt squeaked.

Caroline laughed. “We’ve known each other since we were kids,” she elaborated.

“Mmm. Well, any friend of Care’s is a friend of ours.”

Caroline wasn’t sure her friend’s cheeks could get any darker under Ashton’s gaze. She had to hold back bewildered laughter of how well this was going already, while wondering if this was how Ashton had felt watching her and Luke interact for the first time. Like you had inside knowledge on a love story that hadn’t been written yet.

“So, what’s the deal with your friend?” Ashton asked Caroline later on in the evening.

“Why? You interested?” Caroline teased.

He scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve heard her speak, she’s too busy blushing.”

“I told you she was shy. And she’s also out of her element here. But yes, she is single, if that’s what you’re asking. Which it is.”

“I said I didn’t need to be set up, Care.”

“I never said I was setting you up, Ash. I just happened to introduce a pretty girl to a very, terribly so, single man.”

Ashton chuckled. “You’re devious, you know that?”

“That may be so. But you’re both my friends. All I did was introduce you guys to each other. Something that was bound to happen sooner or later. What happens next is up to you and her. Although, for the record, I think you’d be pretty cute together.”

“So you admit you’re setting me up with your friend?”

“Just like you set me up with Luke?”

“Oh, I fully accept responsibility for that one. Worked out great, don’t ya think?”

She laughed. “So clearly you’re the one with the matchmaking abilities. So go on. Go make your match. Get out of here, and go talk to her!” she laughed more, pushing at his chest.

“Tell that to Britt,” he called out over his shoulder.

“What was that about?” Luke asked, coming up with new drinks and handing one to her.

“Oh, I was just telling Ash to go talk with Britt some more.”

“Mhm, cuz you're setting him up with her just in a less in-your-face way.”

“I am not! I brought Britt along because I thought it’d be fun for her.”

“Sure ya did.”

“Okay, maybe I did mention something about there being cute available guys to persuade Britt to come with me. And maybe I did mention to Ash I was bringing her. But, you gotta admit that they would make a cute ass couple.”

Luke nodded in agreement. “But not as cute as you and me.”

“Thank God for Ashton Irwin, huh?”

“That meddling bastard.”

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24

#meddling #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #also a friend!ashton fic #5sos #galcal irwin

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snowbellewells · 5 years ago

Text

Self-Promo Sunday: I’d Know You Anywhere

This one has been on my ff.net account for some time, so I apologize to anyone who’s gotten this far thinking it’s a brand new story. It's much longer than any fic I've posted on here before, other than my CSSNS werewolf fic, more involved, and has a completely AU non-magic setting, somewhere around the timeframe of the season two premiere. It's meant to be intense and suspenseful with some slow burn romance building as it goes along. There are elements of different movies I love, from 'The Bodyguard' to 'Sister Act' in here, and most of the police/FBI knowledge I'm using comes from television, but I hope it still melds into its own unique thing and that readers will enjoy it. Definitely still CS, and I'd definitely still love to hear what people think as it goes along.

** It seemed like the perfect time to bring it back though, since @sherlockianwhovian gifted me this stunning fic cover art as a Christmas present!! Thank you so much! I’m just thrilled and really can’t stop looking at it!! :)

Can also be found on A03 and ff.net

Prologue

'Keep going…faster…don't look back,' her mind repeats in terror as her feet hit the pavement over and over. Emma Swan clutches her son's small hand in hers even tighter. She is desperate, knowing he is stumbling, tired, and confused, but not daring to slow down or stop. "Just a little further, Henry," she breathes, trying to comfort him, though her mind is its own horrified blank, and she doesn't know what she's doing or where she's going.

'Think Emma,' she orders herself, forcing a deep breath and trying to focus.

People call out bets, various machines ring and whir, coins rattle and clink, men and women push in all around them until she and Henry are like salmon swimming upstream. All Emma Swan can do is keep looking over her shoulder, praying they haven't been followed, praying they won't be caught.

She had only wanted to ask a question. Things had been routine, normal. She had gone to Spencer's office, wanting to make sure she had the correct job assignments for the day. As head of security at The Kingdom, Vegas' ritziest hotel and casino, and proud of the position which was admittedly an unusual one for a woman, Emma liked to make sure the owner, George Spencer, was pleased, and that she and her team were aware of any new problems or red flags which might be on her boss' radar. She had given her customary curt knock, thought she had heard no answer, and stepped in – as she often did. What she had seen instead shattered her reality in one sweeping moment.

Where she had been expecting Spencer's aged but still imposing figure sitting behind his rich, mahogany desk, Emma had instead seen him holding a revolver against the temple of a very familiar figure, held in place by two of his henchmen, Greg and James.

Emma is no naïve innocent; she'd always known there were shady dealings at her place of employ – though she had never been involved in any of them. Walking in on cold-blooded murder, however, is still a nightmare she can hardly believe. She had frozen for a second, thankfully making no noise, and she honestly isn't sure if she was seen or not. She had quickly backed out, and let the door close silently, then she was running to she, Graham, and Henry's living quarters.

Tears keep streaming down her face, and Emma can only hope that Henry doesn't see; she doesn't want him to be any more traumatized than he must be already. Her hands shake beyond her control, no matter how valiantly she fights to stay calm for her little boy. She simply can't stop seeing the blood, hearing Graham's body thump against the floor, and the horror of that silent moment, viewing her boss' evil look of self-satisfaction and fearing she had been detected. It had taken her only seconds to reach the elevator up a floor, mere minutes to slip into the room she had left Henry contentedly playing in, and scoop all the clean clothes in her dresser drawer and then Henry's into a large duffle, tell her son (with what she'd attempted to make a look of bright-eyed excitement) that they were going on an adventure, take his hand, pull him to the door, scan the hall, and then slide them both into the elevator again unseen.

"What happened, Mama?" Henry looks up at her now, confusion plain in his open, trusting gaze. She doesn't want to frighten him, but she can't risk slowing down to explain, or for them to be heard, so she leans down to give him a quick, gentle squeeze and rub his arm.

"It's okay, Baby," she whispers, looking him right in the eyes, willing her little boy to believe her. "Mama won't let anything happen to you. It's gonna be fine. But we have to be very quiet right now. Can you do that for me?"

Henry nods seriously, as sweet and agreeable as always. For a second, Emma is unnerved once more by the feeling she sometimes has, that her child is a small adult trapped in a five-year-old body. At any rate, Henry says no more, simply holds onto her trembling hand, clutching his beloved Snow White and the Seven Dwarves picture book under his other arm.

The elevator pings as they reach the lower basement level of the casino and the employee car park. Emma debates frantically for a moment whether she should try to find Graham's battered Jeep or not. 'He certainly can't need it anymore,' her tangled thoughts weep bitterly. She decides against the search though, realizing that the parking garage is large and full, and she will waste valuable minutes hunting. Yes, they can make better time driving than on foot, but only if they get into the vehicle and away before someone finds them. Instead, she pulls Henry at her side up out of the lower level onto the packed city street.

Rushing, but not running conspicuously, down the Vegas strip, the night drapes around them in flickering shadows lit and spun by the dancing lights of casinos, quickie chapels, all-night diners, and hotels. Henry trips and nearly goes down, only the fact that she's clutching his hand so tightly prevents his fall. Crying out sharply, he forces Emma to stop for a second, seeing that he has dropped his favorite story. She stoops to grab it before some passerby can knock it away, then scoops both it and Henry up in her arms and keeps going.

She still glances behind her constantly, praying she won't see the known faces of any of Spencer's goons. There have been no running feet following them or angry voices shouting for her to stop, but Emma can't slow the racing of her heart or shake the sense of being chased, of not being far enough away to be safe.

Seconds, minutes, and then nearly an hour slide by. Emma is almost stumbling from exhaustion as well, exertion from hurry, fear, and carrying Henry nearly pushing her beyond the limits of her endurance. Her little boy hasn't made any more noise; she knows he is trying to do as she asked, but she can feel his slender little shoulders shaking beneath the hand she rests on his back, and feels his silent tears wetting the skin at her neck where he has buried his face. "It's okay, Baby," she soothes in a panted whisper. "We're about to stop and rest."

Emma feels his nod, agreeing with her as he always does. Her heart breaks a bit more for her little boy. How is she going to tell him that "Papa" is gone? That they no longer have a home to go to? That she is as lost and scared as he is?

They are nearing the edges of the gaudily-packed street now; there are still bars and restaurants and motels, but the whirl of beckoning bulbs and cacophony of sounds have faded a bit. She stumbles into the most nondescript – and admittedly seedy – motel in sight and makes her way straight to the check-in desk.

"Single room for one night," she states simply, keeping her head down and face partially hidden behind Henry's body. The clerk doesn't ask any questions, simply takes her cash, hands her a key, and slides a clipboard with the sign-in sheet across the desk to her. Thinking quickly, Emma writes 'Mary White' as her name, hoping it's much more common than 'Emma Swan', though she doesn't quite know how the alias comes to mind so quickly.

Nodding to the clerk, she turns away and heads down the hall, letting herself and Henry into the simple room at the far end. She bolts the door firmly behind them and tries to quell the fear inside her insisting they can't stop, they aren't far enough from danger yet. 'Henry's only five,' her mind berates. 'You have to let him rest. And you have to make a plan, calm down, regroup. They didn't see you leave, they can't trace cash, and you used a false name. You don't even know that they're after you.'

Sighing tiredly, Emma lays Henry down on the bed, takes off his sneakers, and then covers him up warmly. She slides out of her own boots and work blazer, leaving her tank and slacks on, in case they have to leave suddenly. It is nearing midnight, but she sets her alarm for four a.m. anyway, wanting to be moving on again before the rest of this nocturnal pit stirs. She isn't at all sure she will sleep anyway – not without sickening images replaying in her head – but she can push her body no further tonight. Where they go from here is a question she has no answer for yet.

Tagging: @kmomof4 @laschatzi @therooksshiningknight @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @whimsicallyenchantedrose @hollyethecurious @killian-whump (it takes a bit to get there but there is some real whump eventually) @sherlockianwhovian @thisonesatellite @profdanglaisstuff @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @optomisticgirl @effulgentcolors @let-it-raines @gingerchangeling @carpedzem @teamhook @revanmeetra87

#self promo sunday #cs ff #cs modern au #cs FBI au #witness protection au #cs mc au #i'd know you anywhere #prologue

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particularnervous · 5 years ago

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Welcome Home

summary: Shawn and Ella have been dating for a few months and he comes home after being away for a bit

a/n: This is a continuation of Crowded! To read part one, click here

----

Ella cursed as she almost dropped the eggs she was carrying, arms full as she tried to open the condo door. She had forgotten a bag when she went to the store, and in an attempt to do the right thing had declined a plastic bag and opted to carry her groceries a block to Shawn’s condo. It didn’t seem that far in distance, but with about a dozen things cradled in her arms, it was definitely an adventure. Ella was aggravated for many reasons though, not just the pile of food she seemed to be dropping. She was attempting to do something nice for her boyfriend who had been out of town on a small two-week promo trip in New York and LA for his newest song. She had Brian expedite ship her his key to the apartment and decided to bake Shawn homemade cookies for when he got back. His mom had been there an hour before to drop off soup and had texted Ella that she had left a cookie sheet and parchment paper. As she made more and more steps in this plan, however, Ella felt extremely stupid. What is Shawn didn’t want to see her right away? He probably just wanted to shower, change, and chill before their plans later in the evening. He was due home at 6:30 and they had planned that he would be over to hers around 9:00.

“I wish I could just fly the plane right to your house. Parachute out of it and be at your front door. I miss you”

That’s the text Ella had received a few days prior, to which she had replied that she’s working on a teleportation device.

Shawn: I’ll be over around 9:00 on Sunday? We can watch a movie or just sleep

Ella: Sleep sounds good, I know you’ll need it. Can’t wait to hear all your travel shenanigans though

Shawn: Can’t wait to tell you them. It’ll be late when I finish the show tonight, will you be up?

Ella: It’s live, I’ll be watching on the corner of my seat silly

Shawn: I’ll call you on my way back to the hotel then. Talk soon, sweetheart.

Now, around 5:00 on Sunday, Ella was second guessing their entire conversation. On the phone that night he had gotten slightly emotional, the lack of sleep and home-sickness catching up with him. Ella had tried her best to console him, her heart aching from not being with him. He had told her probably one million times that night, and since, that he couldn’t wait to see her. But now, as there were only hours until he was home, she wondered if he wasn’t feeling that way anymore. Maybe it would be like when you black out at a club and do some dumb shit and wake up the next morning hungover and guilty wishing you hadn’t done any of it. Not to mention, they had only been dating for close to three months and she had basically broken into his condo without his knowledge.

Ella went about her plans, though, and when the cookies were finished and cooling on a plate she sat back and texted Shawn. She saw she had a few messages from him saying that he had landed and was almost home. She replied, and opened her twitter to look at pictures of Shawn with fans at the airport. Before Shawn, she had followed a few stan accounts, but ever since pictures of them kissing at the club leaked, their entire relationship had been fairly public. It had taken a bit to get used to the hate in the beginning, but she usually stuck to twitter where things were usually nice and mild, and made her Instagram private. She loved interacting with fans now, it made them happy and Shawn loved it. “My favourite people talking”, he would say, “I should bring you on tour with me, they’d want to see you more than me.” She would laugh, but truthfully as much as his fans liked her, she was in awe of the way they cared for her boyfriend. For some, it may be annoying to see girls and guys fawning over your partner, but for Ella it filled her with pride. He was the greatest guy, and she was so happy that everyone saw that. Plus, the stuff that they would say about him physically made her laugh. It wasn’t uncommon for her to reply to a tweet about how hot he was with a witty remark about how she doesn’t know how to control herself around him. Seeing him with fans at his hometown airport, though, brought her another level of happiness. He looked so happy and relieved with his arms around the people in the pictures. She grinned when she saw a tweet with a video of him, the caption ‘oh my god, I love them so much’. She opened it and her heart squeezed listening to him. A fan had asked if he was going home to Ella, and he had replied “I’m seeing her later tonight, I can’t wait to hug her”. Her nerves calmed a bit and she continued to scroll, saving a couple pictures of just him.

Shawn: Just getting home, I’ll text when I’m on my way xo

Ella’s heart started to beat faster as she heard the lock click and the door swing open. Shawn walked in, and it took him a second before he noticed her. He messed with the key, grumbling something about it never cooperating, and put down his guitar, before he turned and finally noticed her standing in the hallway in front of him. The look on his face was priceless as he stared at Ella, mouth wide open.

“I hope this is okay. I wanted to make you cookies because I know you said you were craving the ones I made you that one time, and Brian sent me his key so that’s how I’m here, but I can leave if you want.” Ell rushed out, wringing her hands together in front of her. Finally, Shawn moved, rushing forward and grabbing her into the air. With a shriek, Ella wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him. She inhaled his familiar scent, her favourite, and felt tears spring to her eyes. It was only two weeks, but she had missed him so much. Pulling his face out from the space between her neck and shoulder, he grinned at her in awe. “Ella,” he breathed, before kissing her hard. He pulled back quickly, placing jer on his kitchen island and stepping away to admire her. She was wearing leggings and one of his sweaters, her hair braided behind her head, but she looked gorgeous. If he could have framed that view right then and there he would have.

“You’re not mad?” She asked, quietly and he shook his head wildly. How could he be mad? He had wanted nothing more than to take an Uber right to her apartment from the airport but he figured he should bring his stuff home first. He wasn’t expecting this at all, but now that they were here, he realized that it’s exactly what he had wanted. It was something he could get used to, coming home to her.

“Not mad, princess. How could I be? This is the best surprise, you’re the best surprise.” He stepped forward again and wrapped her in his arms, holding her there for a minute.

“Well, in that case, I made you cookies and the soup your mom brought over smells so good.” Shawn laughed, and pulled away, helping Ella down from the island. He went over to the cupboard and grabbed two bowls while Ella took two spoons out of the drawer. Sitting down next to each other, Shawn began telling her about his flight and the airport.

“I saw the video of you saying you were excited to see me, very cute.” Ella teased, and a blush appeared on Shawn’s cheeks.

“Shut up, I wasn’t even that excited.” He muttered and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, okay Mendes. You’re the one that said you wish you could parachute to me.”

“I said to your apartment, not you. What if I really missed your roommates?” He said, defensively, and she laughed. He had a great relationship with my roommates, and it was something Ells was thankful for. She wouldn’t be surprised if he missed them.

“I’d say, if you missed them so much go hangout there and I’ll enjoy these cookies myself.” Ella huffed, and Shawn laughed, pulling her stool closer to him so that he could wrap his arms around her.

“I think I’ll stay here with you and the cookies.”

A few hours later, they were quietly getting ready for bed in Shawn’s bathroom. Ella had left a toothbrush here officially a month ago, as well as her face wash and moisturizer. When Connor and Brian saw, they made fun of Shawn for a good ten minutes before Connor cracked and told him honestly that he was happy for Shawn. Brian continued to make fun of him.

“I love doing this with you, babe.” Shawn admitted, watching as she ran his brush through her hair. He had finished his routine before her, as usual, and was sitting on the toilet trying to memorize her routine. Hair up, wash face, brush teeth, moisturize, hair down, brush hair, lip chap. It all seemed so domestic he thought his heart might burst. He loved just watching her live her life and do the normal, small things. He was so enthralled.

“I do too,” she replied softly, knowing exactly what he meant. “Makes me feel safe.” She muttered, voice shy. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into him. Their eyes met through the mirror and Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. “You make me feel the same way.” He told her, kissing her neck softly. Ella closed her eyes and leaned back into him. They stayed like that for a moment before he pulled away and made his way into the bedroom. She joined him a minute later, having changed into a t-shirt of his. She climbed into bed as he stripped down to his boxers and he stopped short when he turned around and saw her in his bed. This wasn’t a new sight, she had spent the night more than once, but after two weeks apart she looked like a new type of gorgeous all wrapped up in him like that. His shirt, his sheets, he thought he could cry. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and stood at the end of the bed in the middle, snapping a picture of her. He took a moment to admire it, how soft she looked in the light, the way her face lit up in the smile she always has behind the camera, shy but happy.

“You’re so beautiful, Ella, I’m so lucky.” Ella felt like she might pass out, so overwhelmed with the sweetness of their evening. She couldn’t believe she had been so nervous earlier that night, it seemed pointless now. Shawn tapped away on his phone for a minute, and Ella’s own phone buzzed from beside her. ‘Shawn Mendes as made a post’ her Instagram notified her, and then ‘Shawn Mendes tweeted: I’m in Toronto and I’ve got this view’. The picture he had taken moments before was attached. Ella grinned, commending Shawn on his caption skills. In retaliation, she climbed on top of him and snapped a picture of him looking up at him. She posted it to her own social media, captioning it ‘my view’s better’. They giggled over the replies and comments together, liking and replying to a few of them before putting their phones down.

Shawn turned on his side and pulled Ella into him, kissing the back of her head. “Goodnight, honey.” He whispered, and Ella squeezed his hand as her own goodnight. The two of them slept better than they had the past two weeks.

#shawnmendes #shawn #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Try (branjie)- dexx-ss

a/n: Hi, hello, how are ya?

(SPOILER-Y A/N AFTER THE JUMP)

Sooo most of us are probably feeling a little sad after last night’s events. So I put together this little fic inspired by P!nks “Try” to feed y’all sadness even more. It is kinda sloppy at the end and i’m sorry about that :P (She/her for Vanessa; he/him for Brooke*it might be a little messed up at some places and I’m sorry*)

***

Ever wonder ‘bout what he’s doing

How it’s all turned to lies

It had been 4 months after they had finished filming and Vanessa for the first three of them had been on cloud nine. Was it exactly like she’d hope for it to be? No. But right now she felt happy-ish. Yes, the last few weeks had been kinda rough. She hadn’t seen Brooke and because all the traveling Vanessa was doing they didn’t get to call each other also that often. And most of the times when they were texting or calling or whatever they got into arguments over the dumbest things.

But tonight was their lucky night. Vanessa was tired as hell but talking to Brookes was exactly what she needed. “Hey, twinkle toes!” V smiled when Brooke picked up her face time call “How are you?”, “You know, busy, like always,” Brooke said looking at the ground not meeting Vanessas eyes. “Brooke, is everything okay?” Vanessa asked with a lot of worry in her eyes. She knows Brooke wasn’t really the one to talk about his feelings but right now he looked like something was really bothering him “Tired,”, “No there is something else.” V called him out. “Jose,” Brooke calling Vanessa by his boy name was never a good sign so immediately V tightened up “this is not going to work?”. Brooke said it heavy heartedly and you could tell he had been thinking about saying it for a hot minute. Right when those words left his lips his eyes filled with tears and so did Vanessas. Neither of them said anything and the silence was killing Brooke. “I love you,” Brooke said but was immediately cut off by Vanessa “don’t do that.”, “I love you and you know that. But right now the timing is the worst.”. Silence. Brooke just saw tears running down Vanessas cheeks. All he wished he could do was go there and clean her tears away, kiss her like nothing mattered and act like he hadn’t said anything. But he did and he knew he just couldn’t take it back.

Sometimes I think that it’s better, To never ask why. It’ has been a few months from their breakup and they were on good terms. The time had gone by faster. They often still called each other and when they hanged up Brooke imagined what would his world be like if he still had Vanessa in it and Vanessa smiled at the ceiling and let her tears fall(They weren’t exactly sad tears but they weren’t happy either). It was the day of the promo shoot and they haven’t seen each other personally for a little while. When Brooke got there he didn’t see Vanessa right away but he did hear her. Even hearing her voice brought a smile on Brookes face. When he finally saw V she was surrounded by Silky and Akeria. So instead of interrupting Brooke went to get ready. V hadn’t noticed when Brooke got there but now she was looking at him through his mirror. “You know you can and go talk to him right,” A’keria punched V playfully “he ain’t gonna bit, ya. Unless that’s what ya into.”. Vanessa just rolled her eyes and told A’keria to shut it. “Hey, stranger,” Vanessa said approaching Brooke from the back. Nina who was sitting next to Brooke and talking to him got up and told V she can take her place. Brooke stood up and they hugged for a minute or two. The hug was powerful, tight. It felt like home. When they both finally sat down V just looked at Brooke and all she could say was “Why?” Brooke was surprised by the question. They have been getting along so well after that messy facetime and V has never for once asked why. He but his makeup brush down “I told you the timing wasn’t right.”. Vaness shook her head “I,” she paused for a moment “I miss you.”. Brooke took her hand “I miss you too but,”, “I’m not sure I wanna hear the end of that sentence,” V interrupted, placed a kiss on Brookes hand and walked away tears filling her eyes.

Funny how the heart can be deceiving More than just a couple times The cats out of the bag. The episode of them kissing has aired. Vanessas phone is blowing up with notifications. So is Brookes. Vanjie just ignores everything and tries to get herself together for her gig. She doesn’t know how much of what happened between her and Brooke they’ll actually show but she’s not sure she is ready to go through that and more. There probably will be interviews. Maybe they’ll make merch. And as she thought that she got a message about the #Branjie hats. Brooke gives an interview after interview and everyone keeps asking about Vanessa. How is she? How are you guys? And you’ve been getting these cookies? Brooke is a firm believer that everything happens for reason. But maybe this time the reason was that he is stupid and made a bad decision. He misses Vanessa but he knows that it wouldn’t be fair to her to tell her. She doesn’t deserve this. She is the most amazing person ever in his eyes. But Brooke can’t have a relationship. He can not factor someone elses needs in his life right now. As the episodes go by they miss each other more and more. But neither of them wanna do anything about it. Maybe sometimes it’s better to bottle your feelings up(like normal people). Yes, they text. Sometimes call/facetime. They are still friends. It feels wrong but there is nothing they are going to do about it. One night V gets really drunk with Silky and post some shit and a song on her story. But takes it down immediately cause Silky says “You need to realize, HE, DOES, NOT, CARE! And if you keep being hung up on him you might miss out on someone who does.” these words sting but only because Vaness has been thinking about it too.

Why do we fall in love so easy Even when it’s not right. They are spending the day together. It feels nice, feels right. It wasn’t until later they are in some club with friends. Both drinking. Vanessa starts an Instagram live and Brooke stands to her side. They have a soft moment. V kisses his forehead and forgets everything else around her. Why can’t they just go back? A warm feeling goes through her body as she watches Brookes smile while snuggling more into V’s side. She closes the live and looks at A’kerias disapproval. She goes to talk with Trixie and A’keria grabs Brooke and pulls him to the side. “Dangerous game you are playing, miss Brooke,” she says. “What?” Brooke asks with a puzzled look. “Moving on from someone you love is one hell of a battle. Vanessa has been fighting in that battle for months. You are not making it easier for her you know.” Akeria said with a sharp tone. Brooke looked at Vanessa and then back at A’keria. What he wanted to say would have been something along the lines of ‘But what about how I feel. Yo think it was easy to make that decision? Do you think it has been easy not seeing her beautiful smile every day? Do you think it has been easy living with the thought that I broke her heart? No! But why would anyone care? Storys never have two sides, right! Wrong. I��m also hurt. I also need support.’ but what he said was just “Oh” and nodded. What else he could’ve said?

Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame Where there is a flame, someone’s bound to get burned Vanessa is sitting across Brook. Looking on the ground and Ru asks “Are you two still a couple?”. Vanessa feels like Rajha would say. Some type of way. She doesn’t wanna feel anyway. But when Brooke says “No, we are not.” Vanessa doesn’t float like a butterfly and the words sting like a bee. She feels pain in her heart. Literally like something just stinger her. Brooke explains his side. And Vanessa talks her talk. “I’m a romantic at heart…”, “I love that about you!”, “don’t play it,” V says. It stings Brooke a little. Cause that’s really one of many reasons why he loves Vanessa. Then Ru asks a question that neither of them knows the anserw to. “Do you want to get back together?” Mama Ru asks again. Brooke thinks for a moment but says what he feels. He still has feelings for Vanjie and he knows Vanjie feels the same way but only time can tell. They go on with the rest of dramas. Wigs are thrown. Libaries are open and closed. But Vanessas thoughts are only on Brooke Lynn. It’s a wrap. But just because it burns, doesn’t mean you’re gonna die You gotta get up and try, and try, and try V gives away her mic and starts walking away quickly. Where to, she has no idea but just away. She hears Someone yelling her name but she doesn’t turn around. She is hurt and now the whole world will see that. Her head feels dizzy. She keeps walking until she feels too dizzy and just closes her eyes and stands there tears rolling down her cheeks. She is angry and sad and confused. She feels someone wrap their arms around her. And she doesn’t need to open her eyes to know who it is. The hug feels familiar, it feels like home. They just stay there for a little while. Vanessas head buried in Brooks embrace. She hears people passing by and asking if everything is okay, feeling Brooke nod in response. They finally let go and Vanessa takes a few steps back eyes fixed on the ground. Brooke cups her jaw raising her eyes to meet his. “Sometimes people need to fall apart to fall back together” Brooke whispers whit a smile. It is the cheesiest thing Vanessa has heard Brooke say but she doesn’t care. She grabs his face and kisses him.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #silky nutmeg ganache #akeria davenport #nina west #rupaul #canon compliant #angst #dexx ss #try #on set fic #s11

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mythiica · 6 years ago

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Reader x Shingen Takeda - By Your Side

Title: By Your Side

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Shingen Takeda

Genre: angst, romance, fluff, fucking slow burn and im proud of it

Warnings: Minor spoilers

Intended Gender Audience: Female audience

Word Count: 3097 words (holy shit)

Shameless self promo: My dA has a lot more than my tumblr... I’m working on it

Other comments: Slight spoilers if you havent been up to chapter 5 of his route ; some of it is fictional and idk if it happens in his route, but i will specify that in the description ; don’t read if you dont want any spoilers

Shingen reacted faster than you did, jumping in front of you at the last millisecond so that the arrow landed in his shoulder rather than in your heart. He crumbled before you nearly immediately, clutching the arrow by the hilt to pull it out.

You screamed and fell to your knees, trying to slap his hands away. “Stop it! If you take it out, it’ll bleed.”

He grunted and pushed you away once he saw the blood on your hands from trying to help. “It’s poisoned, if I don’t take it out, I’ll die slowly. Would you rather me die slowly and painfully, over the course of a month? Or quickly but with mercy?” With a guttural groan, the yanked the arrow out but immediately covered the wound with one of the piece of fabric dangling from his uniform.

“You’re already dying!” you scream at the top of your lungs.

His eyes flashed open, regret and sadness pooling in his charcoal eyes.

You ripped the sleeve of your kimono and wrapped it around his chest to stop the bleeding as much as possible. “Yukimura told me… you have pneumonia. And it’s killing you.” Gripping his arm, you helped im up slowly to get him on his horse.

“(Y/n)...”

“Don’t say anything. You’ll just kill yourself faster,” you scold him firmly. You’re very angry with Shingen, but above that, you just want him to be okay.

He gives you a flirtatious smile when your hand lands on his thigh after you help him onto the horse. “Wandering someplace when I’m partially immobilized? Not that I’m complaining… I just didn’t think you’d be so forward.”

“Shingen” you warn.

“Maybe I should have revealed of my sickness earlier… you’d have cared for me like you are now…”

When you shoot him a glare, he only laughs, but then clutches his side and begins coughing violently. He slumps forward with a moan, not able to sit up straight anymore. You kick off your slippers as you remove the outermost and thickest layer of your elaborate outfit.

Shingen watches you from the corner of his eye, struggling to find a witty comment to make about you removing your clothes. “Maybe save that for another night? I wouldn’t usually decline a beautiful goddess as yourself, but I’m in a bit of a-”

“Shut up already,” you scoff as you put your foot in the stirrup and swing your other leg. With one hand holding the reigns, you force Shingen’s semi-limp arms around your body so that he doesn’t fall off the horse on the way back to the castle. You don’t need to tell him to keep his hands above the equator, because he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with every passing moment.

The forest scenery whizzes past you, but you pull back sharply when you see a shadow to the right. You’re worried that it’s Nobunaga or someone else that would try to stop you. You weren’t exactly in the shape for fighting off a feudal warlord, especially with an injured one to protect as well.

“(Y/n)!” a familiar voice called. Yukimura appeared out of the trees, his clothes saturated with blood – hopefully not his. “I saw you flee with Lord Shingen!”

“How much farther to the castle?”

He turned around and motioned. “Not much, come on!”

You’re relieved to see the faint glow of the castle, and arrive only a few minutes later. As you dismount, a few vassals lift Shingen from the horse and rush him to a nearby room to tend to his wounds. He groans and shifts, making the bleeding suddenly worse as it soaked through the dirty layers of stained fabric. His arm fell limp as a soft breathe escaped his lips and his eyes closed.

He melted into unconsciousness and you found yourself crying for his safety. You took a step forward to follow them, but Sasuke held you back.

“Let me go! We can help him, we know things from the fu-”

But Sasuke covered your mouth with a hand. “If this is history repairing itself for the damage we have already done, then we cannot interfere or we might cease to exist,” he explains solemnly.

You choked back tears, not completely understanding how concerned you were about him. “H-He can’t die…”

Sasuke pulled you into a hug to calm you. “He’s strong. He’ll be alright…”

You sat at the door of Shingen’s room for probably an hour until Sasuke forced you to bathe and change your bloodied clothes. You only ate under the circumstances that someone tell you immediately when Shingen was stabilized.

Despite being very tired, you did not dare go to sleep.

After eating, you sat in front of Shingen’s room and waited for any news. Another two hours crawled by before Keshin slipped out. He nearly stepped on you, but then apologized immediately.

“Yukimura told me what happened… He protected you, and he’s there because of you now.”

You wiped your eyes and stood up. With all the conviction you could muster, you pointed an angry finger at Kenshin and scolded him. “I didn’t ask him to catch an arrow for me! But I did what I could and I immediately brought him back here so that he could get the medical attention he needed. I couldn’t bear to watch him die, so he is in there because of me! You were busy fulfilling your blood lust on the battlefield that you didn’t arrive until an hour ago. Don’t lecture me about Shingen, because I already feel guilty about it.”

Kenshin’s eyes widened at your words and felt bad about making you cry again. He pulled out a small cloth from the depths of his uniform and offered it to you.

“Don’t cry over Shingen. He might think that you’re in love with him…” He turned away to leave, but then called over his shoulder, “You can go in and stay with him. For now…”

You nearly ran into the wall, forgetting that a door separated you from Shingen. Inside though, you found wads of red towels, needles scattered over the mats, and fresh bandages.

Shingen was still unconscious, but his breathing was laboured and sweat glistened on his skin. You sit on your knees and take his hand in yours – Shingen’s breathing slows down, and he mumbles something you can’t hear.

The moon waned slowly, and before you knew it, morning arrived. You tended to him throughout the night, rewrapping his bandages for him when someone would come to check on him. The doctors were rather surprised by how nimble you were with your hands were.

As dawn’s light filtered through the doors, you curled up next to Shingen as he shivered from running a fever. He trembled uncontrollably, so you placed your hand over his broad chest, directly on his heart. It seemed to comfort him, as his breathing once again steadied to a normal beat.

A gentle sleep claimed you without protest, and you had awful nightmares of waking up to Shingen dead.

You shot up abruptly at one point, and after coming to your senses, you immediately checked on Shingen. He was right next to you, breathing shallowly like he had been a few hours ago.

It’s night again, which meant you had slept through an entire day without being disturbed. His hair was matted with sweat, but his eyebrows were relaxed and made him look younger in a way. You took a moment to admire the soft bend in his nose that contrasted from his sharp jawline. He looked so handsome, even if you tried to deny it.

“Shingen?” you asked softly.

He did not respond, meaning he was still unconscious, or really good at pretending to be asleep.

You tapped his arm gently. “Shingen?”

But he still did not reply.

A sigh escaped your lips as you settled your head back down in the crook of his arm.

But you don’t remember his arm being extended when you went to sleep. It was next to his body… had he moved it subconsciously because he got a cramp?

Shrugging it off, you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep, slightly comforted by the sound of his breathing and heartbeat.

When you woke up again, it’s not sudden. Your eyes fluttered open and immediately met Shingen’s half-lidded eyes. He wore his infamous smile, but did not say anything.

You spent a few minutes, just staring at each other.

You didn’t want to ruin the moment, and neither did he.

But you cleared your throat and scooted back from him a bit. Cold wrapped around you immediately, no longer close to his warm body.

“You’re awake… thank goodness…”

Shingen tried to sit up, but winces as he bent his body.

“S-Stop, you’ll break the stitches!” You sat up and placed a firm hand on his chest to keep him down.

“Princess…”

You gaze relocked with his.

“You saved me.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you with an arrow in your chest in the middle of a battlefield.”

He laughed, but it came out strained. “You very well could have. And you could have run back to Oda, or someone else from there. Why didn’t you?”

You struggled to reply. “I… uh…”

Shingen cupped his hand over yours as it still lingered on his chest.

Part of you wanted to continue to deny everything you feel for him, but a voice protested at that thought. How much longer could you resist him? You’d basically given yourself up when you took it upon yourself to stay by his side for two days after he was injured. Even if Shingen did not know that, it was only a matter of time, and it seemed like Kenshin and Yukimura already knew your feelings.

“(Y/n)?”

His voice made your heart melt, and tears prickled in your eyes. Gripping his shirt, you let your hair fall over your face to obscure the fact that you had again started to cry.

“I couldn’t lose you… I don’t know what type of Stockholm Syndrome voodoo you’ve done to me, but I can’t explain it… I just know that I couldn’t leave you there. I had to make sure you were okay…”

Shingen looked at you, confused by some of the terms you used, but his hand migrated up to your cheek as he tucked your hair behind your ears. “It makes me very happy to hear that, (Y/n).”

The tenderness in his voice was nothing like his flirty personality. This was genuine, as if you were the only person in the world with him.

You completely burst into tears. “But you didn’t tell me you were sick! Why do you push yourself?” you demand, wringing out the fabric in your clenched fist.

“I’m a warlord, we are defined by our territories and by our powe-”

“But what if you die?!”

You were leaning over his chest, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks and splattered onto him. He lifted his other hand to cup your face, and his thumbs gently stroked away the tears as they fell.

“Would be sad if I died?”

You open your eyes and freeze.

Yes.

Where is the will to voice it though?

You want to scream it, but something holds you back.

He sees you, troubled by this, and pulls your face down slightly, closer to his. “(Y/n)?”

The way he said your name – the sadness in his voice made the reality of the situation so much more clear to you. Even if you were from a different time, and even if he was destined to die, you couldn’t hold back anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of you at this point. Shingen had invested so much in you, and you in him.

“Y-Yes,” you confess. “If you died…”

Shingen waited eagerly for your words, his heart racing furiously.

“If you died,” you choked back more tears at the thought of it, “I’d never leave this room again… I’d never sew again, and I’d never smile again!”

“But you have a beautiful smile…”

You felt a grin tugging at your lips as you scoffed. “But you’ve never seen m-”

Even with a high fever from a poisonous arrow, immense blood loss, and with a terrible case of pneumonia pushing him closer to death, he still managed to trick you and win his age old bet. You had completely forgotten about it in the moment.

His smile returned and his hand reached the back of your neck. “There... it is…”

“I suppose that means you’ve won-”

“I suppose it does.”

You bit your lip slightly, but were taken aback by the next thing he says. “I only made that bet because I wanted to be the only person your shared your smile with.”

“What about the kiss?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a pervert. I would never force a goddess as yourself to kiss a broken and beaten human like myself. I’m not worth your lips.”

You released his shirt and place a hand on his jaw.

Shingen’s eyes lit up with hope. He meant what he said, but that didn’t mean you can’t find a loophole.

“I’m no goddess… You just say that to tease me.”

“You’re the most beautiful goddess, (Y/n). And you’ve saved me so many times without knowing it.”

His words pained you deeply, but also made your heart flutter. You leaned forward, until your face was only a few centimeters away from his. You felt his hot breath on your lips, as if he were continuing to tease you.

You tugged on his lip gently, closed your eyes, and let yourself kiss him.

The kiss was slow at first, the two of your savouring the moment before your hands tangled in his hair and you pulled him closer to you. Despite lacking much energy, Shingen matched the passion in the kiss, his arm snaking around your waist to grip on to you tightly to ensure that you wouldn’t disappear suddenly. His tongue pressed against your lips and pried your mouth open until it wrapped around your own tongue. You moaned into the kiss, the vibrations making him taste better somehow.

He sat back slightly to catch his breath – in the moment you completely forgot that he was sick. You wanted to continue kissing him; you wanted to kiss his beautifully sharp jaw, and that soft bend in his nose. You wanted to bless the sad bags under his eyes that take away from how handsome he is, and you wanted to kiss his hands that feels so perfect on your waist.

Shingen licked his lips, relishing in his victory silently before turning his head slightly to smile at you. “A kiss from a goddess… better than I could ever dream…”

His muscles relaxed slightly, but he still kept a protective hand on you.

You’re not worried about him, he’s just exhausted his energy because he’s still feverish. So you lie with him, cupping your hand over his chest like you had earlier. As he drifted off to sleep, you kissed his cheek and jaw gently for good luck in a way. You knew that everything would be alright.

The next morning, you woke up to Kenshin’s worried face. “For a minute, I thought that he might have given you his fever, but good thing you’re awake. Shingen’s doing better already, and as much as he didn’t want to leave you, I thought it was unfitting for him to continue to sleep drenched in sweat and blood.” “Where is he?”

“In the garden, waiting for you. I’ve brought a change of clothes as well, so you may go and see him.”

Kenshin seemed more relaxed, so you assumed that Shingen had said something.

As if he read your mind, Kenshin cleared his throat. “I heard some of your conversation last night.”

You immediately blushed.

“I apologize for being harsh on you. I can see now that your relationship with him is pure and makes him happy.”

“Thank you,” you said as you accepted the clothing.

“Best not keep him waiting though.”

As he left, you called out. “Is he going to be okay though? I doubt that he would tell me the truth if I asked him.”

Kenshin smiled. Genuinely. “He calls you a goddess… and there may be some truth to that because he’s doing quite well. The signs of the pneumonia are fading rapidly, and he seems to be breathing clearer than before he fell ill.”

With an elated heart you changed as quickly as you could so you could see him sooner. The kimono was beautiful – so you tied your hair up and pinned with an equally gorgeous clip before applying the slightest bit of rouge to your lips and cheeks.

Gathering your skirt in your hand, you ran out of the room and down the open corridors to the garden. You heard Shingen’s laugh before you turned the corner, and it only made you run faster.

He sat in a chair and conversated with Yukimura and Sasuke. With the beautiful scenery behind him, your heart swelled with happiness – to see him laughing and smiling so carelessly with his friends. There were two empty seats; one for you and one for Kenshin.

Shingen saw you from the corner of his eye and then turned to face you. He stands up slowly from his chair as you jump off the few steps and walk quickly towards him, not wanting to run and trip. His arms were stretched outwards, and you basically leaped onto him.

Just like Kenshin has said, he seemed like a changed person – no illness to hold him back. His strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground slightly.

Just like last night, you wanted to kiss him ridiculously, but decided to restrain yourself in presence of others.

Kenshin cleared his throat, and Shingen set you down gently. The three of you took your seats and began to eat the lavish food sprawled across the table.

Sasuke and Yukimura talked about what to do about Nobunaga and the others with Shingen inputting every so often. His hand fell under the table and caught your own hand before he locked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t know what the future would hold – with Nobunaga or with returning home to your own time period.

All you knew was that everything would be alright, as long as Shingen was by your side.

#ikemen sengoku #readerinsert #fanfic #takeda shingen #ikesen #ikesenshingen

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b-bail · 5 years ago

Text

Hunting The Shield Part 1//First Day Jitters

Dean Ambrose×OC

The Undertakers daughter joins the main roster of Monday Night Raw. Does she get in way over her head when she gets involved with the shield? Let's find out!!

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

Ana-Lucia Calaway, born October 31st 1990 started training at the young age of 13. 5 years later she was in NXT fighting alongside some of the best new talent the industry has. Having gotten training from Jeff Hardy she was known for a high flying risk taking style which separated her from the rest of the women. She didn't have many friends in NXT mainly for the fact that a lot of them seemed fake and she hated drama.

Ana stood at 5 foot with light skin, long black hair and pale green eyes. She is the true definition of an underdog. The constant judgement of in ring ability based on her height only caused her to fight harder and train longer. One of her more popular moves which people don't see often is the bait and switch. All it is, is when she is knocked onto the mat or fakes taking a long time to get up and the opponent puts space between them to taunt or set up another move she quickly gets up catching them with a super kick.

Only certain situations she can pull it off making it a rare move but when she does pull it off she does it quickly. Her other finisher is a moonsault off the top turnbuckle. One thing her father and Jeff had taught her was to constantly alter your moveset. Learn new things to catch your opponent off guard but never forget your origins. Ana’s ring name is Ana Hunt and the catchphrase the fans gave her is ‘When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted.’ And ‘Don't Hunt What You Can’t Kill.’

——

Ana had just finished a match against Baylee who in her mind is one of her more tougher opponents. Drenched in sweat and a few bruises here and there she made her way to the Gm’s office having gotten word that they needed to speak with her. Honestly it worried her because she was never called into the office so she hoped she wasn't getting in trouble.

Once she reached the office she knocked hearing a ‘come in’ she quietly opened the door freezing when she saw who was present. “Uncle Hunter? What are you doing here?”

There stood Triple H and Stephanie McMahon. They were rarely seen down in NXT unless they were scouting during practices. Pulling her into a hug he chuckled. “What? I can't visit my favorite niece?”

Hugging back she laughed. “You only visit when you need something.” Scoffing at her answer he playfully shoved her away.

“Fine I’ll just take my offer and leave.” That confused her. What offer did he have and how did it concern her?

Curiosity was getting the best of her. “What's the offer?”

Stephanie stepped forward with some papers in her hand. “This is a contract for you. We would like you to join Monday night raw.”

There was no way they were serious? They wanted Ana to join the main roster? She knew her uncle there was a catch involved.

“What's the catch?” They explained to her that she would be in a storyline maybe a rivalry that will make the fans go insane. Most of it would be improvised and to make things more realistic the other person will start it. Agreeing with the terms Ana eagerly signed the contract. She had some packing and arranging to do then she would head to New York for Raw.

—-skip to Monday night raw—-

Walking into the arena with her duffel bag over her shoulder Ana looked around happily considering she’s here as a wrestler and not a guest of her fathers. Sadly all the years away made her forget where everything is. Not really paying attention to where she was walking she accidentally bumped into someone.

Ana recognized the women as Eve Torres. “I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention.”

Scoffing she rolled her eyes. “Yeah you should have been. Wannabes should know their place.”

Who was she calling a wannabe? Ana never really bragged about it but she is a 2nd generation wrestler. A little respect would be nice. Or at least common decency to not be a bitch. Not wanting to deal with her attitude Ana walked away in hopes to find catering because she was starving.

Walking into catering Ana smiled seeing some familiar faces. She was pulled out of her trance by John Cena yelling her name.

“Is that little miss Calaway i see?” Smiling he brought her into a hug.

“John I love you but your muscles are suffocating me.” He chuckled then let go. He was a little confused as to why she was here but happy nonetheless that she was.

“What are you doing here kiddo?” She glared at him for calling her kiddo. Knowing he says it cause of how short she is.

“Well i debut tonight.” This surprised John. Very very few people knew she was debuting. Wrapping an arm around her John led her to catering to introduce her to some new faces and surprise older ones.

She met tons of new faces and from what she could tell they liked her. John’s little tour was brought to an end when Ana was pulled away by the Bellas.

“Oh my god Ana we’ve missed you so much!” They squealed as they hugged her tight. At this rate she wasn't gonna make it to the end of the show because she was gonna suffocate. But she didn't have the heart to tell them to let go. They watched out for her back in the day and were practically her sisters.

“I've missed you girls too!” She said hugging them back before John pulled them away.

They all grabbed some food before sitting down to catch up. They had some time to kill since the show didn’t start for another hour.

“Can i get your advice on something?” Ana asked out of the blue. To be honest she was a little nervous with this storyline. Not knowing who it was with gave her anxiety. At first she thought it was a rivalry storyline with Eve but she just hates everyone from what she heard.

“I'm in this storyline possible rivalry but i don't know who its with and i won't know until they start it. And its all improv.”

The trio could tell why this worried the girl. Getting called up is an exciting and emotional moment. Add an improv storyline into that and that can cause emotional overload. Plus if its improv they could build up an alliance just to make it a betrayal.

“Well kiddo the best thing you can do is take a deep breath. Relax. And take it day by day. Stressing won't help you. This is your first day here. Take some time to get familiar with the arena, the superstars, and the crowd.”

The advice made her feel a little better. Nikki perked up like she always does when she has an idea.

“John you have an improv promo tonight at the start of the show. Why not take Ana out with you? Get the good vibes from the crowd. It might help with the nerves.”

Ana actually quiet liked that idea. It would help get her mind off of everything and she would get used to how many fans are here.

“Sounds good. Why don't you girls show her the locker room and help her get used to backstage?”

Agreeing with the plan the girls took Ana away from catering. First they stopped at the locker room so she could get ready and drop her stuff off, then they showed her were hair and makeup was, gorilla, trainers office, boss mans office, and knowing Ana, a nice quiet hallway to get away and prep for matches.

By the end of the tour it was almost time for the show to start so the girls handed her off to John before walking away to get ready themselves.

“You ready to do this kiddo?” He looked down at the nervous girl.

She had no idea if she was. Honestly she was freaking out. But she smiled and nodded anyway because she was excited as well. Listening to Raws theme and the fireworks they waited patiently for Johns music. He instructed her to wait until he called her out. There was a brief pause between Raws them and Johns so the commentators could recap important events to hype tonight.

Johns music was met with a mixture of boos and cheers just how he liked it. The crowd got more vocal as he ran out on stage. Ana watched on the tv next to the curtain with a smile on her face. Once he entered the ring John requested a microphone. He waited for the crowd to die down before talking.

“St. Louis is a lively town tonight I tell ya!” He paused letting them cheer.

“Now i know you all are expecting me to sit out here for the first half hour of the show making jokes about people backstage or somehow manage to get myself in trouble or address the attack from the shield. I was but things change. Tonight has been flipped upside down because of one person.” The crowd replied with ‘what?’

“They are surprised me enough i had to come out here and address it. This person has had a very special place in my heart for a long time. They are constantly breaking boundaries you wouldn’t believe they could without seeing it in person. So please let me introduce to you. The Hunter. Ana Hunt!”

‘I'm taking back the crown

I'm all dressed up and naked

I see what's mine and take it (Finders keepers, losers weepers)

Oh yeah

The crown

So close I can taste it!’

Ana’s theme blasted throughout the arena causing the crowd to go crazy. Which was a normal reaction for an NXT call up. But when Ana left NXT she was fave so it looks like that was carrying over to Raw. Ana walked out on stage doing her normal gimmick. (Her entrance is like paige's) waving at fans as she walked down the ramp, John held the ropes open for her causing her go roll her eyes. Walking to the corner she grabbed a mic, waving at Jerry in the process.

“Hey St. Louis!” The crowd cheered causing her to smile. Once the crowd calmed down John went to speak but was interrupted by music.

‘I hear voices in my head

They council me

They understand

They talk to me.’

The pair looked to the stage. Ana was slightly worried that Randy was the one she was doing a storyline with. Walking at a slightly faster pace than normal the crowd watched in anticipation as Randy got into the ring and in a blink of an eye engulfed Ana in a hug. This caused the crowd to go wild because its slightly out of character for Randy.

“I've missed you so much bug.” He whispered in her ear. And it was true he missed her more than anything.

“I missed you too Randall.” That caused Randy to groan he hated when she called him that. Letting go of each other. John stepped forward with a serious look on his face.

“I'm only gonna say this once so everyone in the back listen close. This girl right here is like our sister. She is family. You come after her you have me to deal with.”

That was the same little speech he gave everyone down in NXT which he found ridiculous. She can handle herself but she knew he was worried because WWE has been more like the attitude era these days which the company has slowly been trying to lean towards lately.

Once again music blasted through the arena but this time boos mixed with it causing Ana’s blood to run cold.

‘Sierra

Hotel

India

Echo

Lima

Delta

Shield

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

This is my first post on Tumblr I hope everyone enjoys it and hopefully my posts will get better with time. I hope y'all enjoy

#wwe the shield #dean ambrose #jon moxley #monday night raw

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mendes-musings · 6 years ago

Text

So... just a little something inspired by this guy going out and living the typical 20 year old life👌🏼

Warnings: smut

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~

Want You.

Shawn had been on a short promo tour and hasn’t seen his girl in just over a week. He missed her so much his chest hurt. He wanted to race to her apartment as soon as he got home, but it was a friends birthday and they had to go out to celebrate.

The flight home from LAX had been delayed so he didn’t have time to see Y/N. They had to organize to meet at the club instead.

When he got to the club he found his boys first. They all pushed shots of Cuervo into his hands, urging him to catch up. Shawn took every shot glass, downing one after the other, till the small table was littered with empty glasses. The liquor burned his throat and he felt the heat reach his stomach and his head started spinning not long after.

The music sounded muffled and his body felt relaxed. Shawn’s eyes scanned the crowd for his girl, god he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. A few buddies came over and started up a conversation, his eyes still darting around the venue trying to find her till he felt a set of hands wrap around him and run up his chest. He melted at the contact, closing his eyes at the feel of her fingers as he laced his in hers. He pulled her left hand and spun around to face her.

“Y/N,” he breathed, leaning down and pressing his lips against her ear, “fuck, I missed you baby.”

He pulls back a little and aligns his head with hers before placing his hands on her cheeks and kissing her hard on the mouth. She moans against his lips. “I missed you too. So much.”

Shawn’s mouth pulls up at one corner into the smirk that drives her wild. He can tell she’s drunk and the lust in her eyes speaks volumes.

The club is so dark but she takes his large hand in hers and drags him to follow her. They snake through people and walk down a hallway.

“I want you,” she tells him simply.

Y/N pushed open a door Shawn hadn't realized they were standing in front of and she leads him inside. He looks around as two girls stand at the sink chatting and fixing their hair – it took him a minute to realize it was the girls bathroom.

The girls looked over at him awkwardly, it was so dimly lit he was sure they wouldn’t recognize him. They didn't say a word; they then grabbed their purses off of the bench and walked past him out the door. Y/N checked the stalls and then took his hand.

"Come here," she called, standing in the door of one of the stalls.

He smirks and walks over to her without even thinking, and she grabs him by the belt and drags him into the stall, closing the door and locking it behind her.

“Baby?” he asks, his voice lower than usual. “What are you doing?”

The cubicle was dark and there was very little space for his giant frame, but it meant he was pressed up right against her. It was perfect.

Her fingers climbs up his chest to his neck and she lightly drags her nails down over his bare skin, knowing it drives him fucking crazy.

Shawn leans up against the cool tiles, swearing profanities at the feel of her nails, and lets the temperature soak into his heated skin. He watches Y/N intently as she lifts the hem of her dress, slips her thumbs into the elastic of her panties, and tugs them down her tanned legs.

He swallows thickly at the sight before him. His brain screaming at him to take her in my arms, but he just can’t seem to move. He continues to watch as her fingers inch closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and loosening it to make way for her fingers to undo the zip and buttons.

She raises one hand and the backs of her fingers graze over Shawn’s cheek before she cups his face and pulls him down to look at her. "Shawn, I need you right now."

In the same instant, her other hand dives into his boxers, and her small fingers wrap around his cock, freeing it from the confines of his jeans. A rush of excitement and pure passion courses through him like a tidal wave.

“Jesus fucking Christ babe.” He groans at the contact, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, sucking in a hard breathe.

Shawn’s hands greedily reach down behind her and follow the curve of her ass. He hikes her dress up over her round hips, pushing his jeans down a little with his free hand, and he lifts her up against his waist. He can feel her wetness pressing against him, and it spurs him on so damn much he can barely see straight.

"So fucking wet," he mouths against her chest as his cock throbs painfully against her center, begging to enter her fully.

Her long legs are wrapped around his hips and he turns around and crashes her back hard up against the tiled wall, and she moans at the impact. "I wanna fuck you so hard right now, baby," Shawn growls into the swell of her breast.

Y/N arches into him, her head dropping backwards as a sigh escapes her lips. “Oh God, Shawn, please.” She’s a begging mess and he reaches down between them, takes his cock in his hand and glides it over her slick folds before just barely pushing the tip in.

"Oh fuck! Please," she moans shakily. Her nails dig into the flesh of his shoulder blades as she clings to him. Her breath is coming in fast pants now, sounding like a song in his head.

Shawn lifts his face to look at her, and presses his forehead against hers, their eyes having their own secret conversation. He tilts his hips up and pushes into her hard in one swift motion. She gasps loudly in response, and her nails rip into his skin. Shawn studies the expression on her face as he fills her: the tiny wrinkles by her eyes as she winces, the way she clenches her teeth together, and the exact way her lips mouth his name over and over. Perfection.

His chest presses against hers so hard their beating hearts feel like they are exactly in sync. The feel of her tightness wrapped perfectly around him makes his head spin.

Shawn collides his mouth against Y/N’s, swallowing her groans of pleasure as his tongue dances over hers like it has done some many times before. The pressure of their fervent kissing so firm that he feels his lips swelling in an instant, the stinging pain bringing forth new arousal.

She angles her hips up slightly to meet his thrusts with as much impact as she can take. His hips pounding against hers, every motion pushing her harder and harder against the tiles. Shawn was certain she'd have bruises over her tanned skin tomorrow. But all he cared about was losing himself in her warmth in this very moment.

One of her hands dips down between them, and he follows its path with his gaze. When she reaches her destination, he moans muffled profanities into her bare shoulder. “Fuck baby! So fucking hot.”

Her fingers begin circling over that sweet spot where he longed for his tongue to be. Shawn’s hips pick up the pace, matching the rhythm of her nimble fingers as he looks down between them and watches how his cock enters her. The visual stimulation stokes the fire slowly raging on the inside, dying to break free and he doesn’t know if he can hold on much longer.

Shawn wraps one arm firmly around her waist and holds her tightly as he shoves into her, making sure there is no resistance. He looks up at Y/N’s face and sees her mouth open as she gasps his name over and over again. He swears he’s never seen a sight more beautiful than moments like these. He knew she was close – he could feel it too - she clamps down around him as her fingers work faster.

He hears the door open and the voices of girls in the bathroom, so he covers her mouth with his hand; her hot breath tickling his palm. She‘s so fucking close, her hips began to buck against him erratically, and he bites down on his lip, trying to suppress his own urges till she is satisfied. Shawn thrusts up over and over, harder and faster till he pushes her over the edge, stifling her moans with his palm as she shatters in his arms. He bites down on her shoulder to muffle his own cries of release as he comes hard inside her.

“Oh fuck!” he whimpers.

His knees go weak with exhaustion as he leans against her, clinging to her. He kisses her softly, every inch of skin that he can reach - his silent apologies for being so rough. But Shawn couldn't help it; he wanted her so badly and he greedily took whatever he wanted.

Shawn set Y/N down on her feet, giving her a moment to clean up, then takes her in his lap as he sat them down on the closed toilet. They don’t exchange words, just gentle kisses and a warm embrace. He lays his head against her chest and listens to the beating of her heart - music to his ears.

When her breathing becomes normal, he lifts his face to hers, his eyes are soft and he smoothes her messy hair. "I love you, baby," he whispers against her flushed cheek before kissing her swollen lips.

"Me too. I missed you so much. Don't ever leave me again, okay?"

He grins like an idiot, he adored being reminded how much his girl misses him. "I won't, I promise."

#shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawnmendesimagine #shawnmendesfanfiction #shawnmendesfic #shawn mendes #shawnmendes

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lovelylapins · 6 years ago

Text

au august day 1

day 1- soulmate

a few days late but we are writing for @auyeahaugust !!! a little out there with this one, i won’t lie lol

“Soulmate markings first appeared in late B.C., rising in numbers after the Roman Empire fell. The marks would be undetected until those two confessed their feelings and were originally seen as a gift from the Roman gods. At first limited to solely that part, they traveled out of the Mediterranean Sea and consumed Europe, then led to the Americas and Asia by the mid-fifteenth century. Now, can anyone tell me the chance for soulmates in today’s world?”

A hand jumps up, arm straight and sure.

“Max, go ahead.”

“A one in a hundred chance,” he says, hand lowered and pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Correct. Now, has anybody found their soulmate, or knows of someone who did?”

“My parents found each other.”

“So did mine!”

“Same over here!”

“That’s great to hear. Anybody else?”

“I did,” Mylene says, blushing. She shows off the small swan decorating her wrist, with Ivan close by displaying the matching mark on his wrist as well.

“Good for you,” Miss Bustier says, beaming at the couple. “You and Ivan must be happy to find each other so young.”

Alya nudges Marinette, who’s hand is quickly moving down the page and jotting down notes as Miss Bustier continues on with the lecture.

“Hey girl,” she whispers. “Do you think you and Adrien could have matching marks?”

Marinette blushes, pencil dropping and cheeks flushing.

“W-What! Of course not!” she exclaims, dropping her voice to not get in trouble. Her eyes flicker over to Adrien, cheeks continuing to warm up at even the thought.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” she teases. “C’mon, what hormonal teenage girl in Paris hasn’t?”

“Uh, you. You have Nino.”

“Oh yeah,” Alya says, rubbing her elbow where the mark lay. In front of them, Marinette catches sight of Nino’s as well, noticeable from a mile away. “I still can’t believe we got a phone for our mark. Doesn’t make Gen Z look any less tech addicted.”

“I think it’s cute,” Marinette defends. She looks at it closer, wishing she had a mark of her own. Darting away, her eyes land on Adrien, just for a second.

Alya picks up on it almost instantly, slapping Marinette’s shoulder.

“I knew it! You do think about it,” she says.

“Only sometimes. But can you blame me?” Marinette sighs. It would be a dream come true, but to even have it come true would mean she’d have to try and confess her feelings for him, and well, Marinette can’t even speak a sentence near him without malfunctioning.

“One day girlie. Until then, we’ll just have to break you outta your shell around him. He’d be a fool to not have you as his soulmate.”

Marinette laughs, finding it quite impossible to even think that she’ll be able to manage more than a sentence in his direction even by the time they graduate, much less let out a confession.

“Let’s get back to our notes. You know Miss Bustier is having a quiz next period on the basics of the marks.”

“Yeah, right. You know she’s bluffing every single time she says that.”

Hours later, she finds herself on top of a billboard, legs swinging to feel the emptiness under her. It’s just past sunset, and Chat’s expected to meet up with her at any minute for their patrol. It’s been peaceful so far, and she takes this moment to gawk in peace.

She’s staring across the street, hearts in her eyes as she gazes at the newest billboard on the building over, which has her classmate and crush Adrien Agreste plastered on it. He’s smirking at the camera, hand poised to rest on his chin and eyes twinkling. It’s an ad for some facial cleanser, but even without the editing he glows and shines like a child of the sun.

Marinette feels her heart swirl, cheeks already warming just by looking at him. She leans forward a bit to get closer, only realizing she’s perched on a goddamn billboard.

“Having a nice time?” she hears next to her, and Marinette nearly jumps off the billboard in that very second. Startled, she looks and catches Chat Noir only a few inches away from her, poised like he’s ready to pounce on any villain. He’s smiling at her, two rows of blindingly white teeth beaming down at her.

“Oh, you silly cat,” she says. She turns back to look at the billboard, admiring the features and wondering if it’d make a perfect new lockscreen. Marinette fumbles, trying to make up an excuse. “I-I was just looking at him because I… I wanted to buy some new face products!”

“Really? Then you might just want to clean that drool on your face,” Chat comments, raising a hand to gesture at her.

“I don’t have drool on me!” she exclaims. Marinette’s hand comes up to her mouth, touching around just to make sure there’s nothing there. Chat laughs, clearly enjoying this. Strangely, his cheeks are slightly red, something Marinette racks up to the sunset’s lighting on his face.

“Sure, sure…”

“I don’t!”

“Oh, you don’t have to deny it. There’s nothing wrong with liking a model, you know,” Adrien says, looking at the billboard of himself. He remembers that ad. He hadn’t even tried the product, just went in for some quick shoots and left with a basket of promo objects in his arms.

A part in him wonders what she’ll say, heart pitter-pattering in the hopes Ladybug, the Ladybug, might have a crush on him.

“I don’t like him,” she says, voice strong. His heart plummets off the billboard they’re on, splattering on the pavement below.

Oh.

“That much, at least.”

Oh!

“Really? So would you say you have a… a crush on him?” he suggests. He moves a bit closer, peering at her face for any signs.

“Why do you care so much?” Ladybug asks, eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Adrien blinks, forgetting for a moment Ladybug doesn’t know he’s Chat.

“Oh what? Of course not!” he exclaims, pulling back from Ladybug.

“I find that hard to believe,” she scoffs. She stares at him for a minute longer, then turns to look at the sunset, fading away into darkness.

“You wouldn’t need to be jealous anyways,” Ladybug lets out. “Like he would ever like me.”

“What are you saying! You’re Ladybug! Of course, he’d love- like you.”

“But would he like me?” Ladybug laughs, hand fiddling with her hair. Adrien perks up at this, noticing Marinette usually does that too when she gets nervous. He hadn’t suspected it was a thing all girls did.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m telling you this only because I trust you.” She takes a deep breath. “I… I know him in real life.”

Adrien almost falls off the billboard, eyes widening. Ladybug doesn’t notice, eyes still trained on the sky.

“I’ve liked him as long as I can remember, but no matter how much I want to, I’ll never be able to confess to him I like him. Something’s holding me back, I guess. Isn’t that funny? Ladybug being nervous?”

“Ladybug, I- “ he starts, trying to interject. Oddly, he feels a slight tingle on his neck, something warm. At the same time, he feels a sudden realization come over him, developing faster and faster the more that she talks he wants to confirm his suspicions.

She continues on, Marinette finding a strength she hadn’t felt before surge through her. It’s like something’s compelling her to spill all right now, before she loses her courage. A soft tingle, starting out from her neck and running down her body.

“In a perfect world, I’d confess, and he’d confess back, and we’d be soulmates and live a happily ever after. But, we don’t really have a perfect world now, do we?” Marinette stops talking. The sunset’s disappeared now. She turns back to Chat, wondering what he’ll say in response to her sudden confession.

Oh, if only Adrien had been here to hear it, she thinks wistfully. Then, we could see if we were actually soulmates.

He’s still red, she notes, looking at his cheeks. A soft look has gone over his eyes, something Marinette remembers from somewhere, from someone else. He’s been biting his lip too, she notes, the normally smooth lips cracked and bleeding now from biting down so hard. And then, in a brief state of curiosity, she looks down at his neck.

Right there, almost hidden by his high collar, is a mark.

Looking back up at Chat’s face, she catches his eyes trained on something on her, the same area she had looked at. Pulling out her yoyo, she opens it to gaze into the mirror, angling it to her neck.

A mark, same as his.

“A… Adrien?”

“Marinette?”

#au yeah august #adrienette #adrien #adrien agreste #ml adrien #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #adrien x marinette #miraculous ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #les adventures de ladybug et chat noir #fic #ml fic

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5sosdrfluke · 6 years ago

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Ghost of You

So I actually wrote this pretty close to when Youngblood came out, and I’m now realizing that I never shared it with the Tumblr fam. I hope you like my interpretation of Ghost of You xx

Words: 4.6k

Description: While listening to the song, these were my ideas for a music video or just an imagine in my head. All of the boys have their own section. In his P.O.V.

Warnings: Sad, Angsty, brokenSOS, and a mention of death.

Ashton:

Two months. It's been two months since she walked out. Two long, overbearing months since my heart was ripped in two. But who cares right? I certainly don't. Who needs a full heart? I sighed and unlocked the door to the place she abandoned. Stepping inside, I had that feeling of dread seep into my bones like it does every day. Ever since she's been gone, the whole house has gotten darker, the air heavier.

I threw my keys down on the coffee table and ran a hand through my unwashed hair. She used to be there. Waiting for me when I got home from rehearsals and promos. She'd be with her book and her cup of coffee, too distracted by the writing on the page to notice me walk in. But once I set my keys down, she'd glance up from her book and give me the heartwarming smile that made me fall for her. She'd ask how it went. She'd ask questions. Then she'd ruffle my hair and get up to get more coffee.

That's just a memory now.

I shook my head, trying to expel the thought, but she's stuck there. I kicked the coffee table and winced, hoping the pain would comfort me. It didn't.

Grumbling, I grabbed my fifth pair of drumsticks in two days. I fiddled with them on my way to the drum kit I bought recently. I needed my escape in this house.

As I sat down on the stool, I felt the strength return to my hands and arms. Twisting a stick in my fingers, I hit the snare as hard as I could. The vibrations climbed into my veins and gave me a sense of belonging. But slowly in the back of my mind, thoughts of her came swimming back.

So I drowned it out. Like I always do.

I hit, smashed, banged, and crashed my drums. Each movement got angrier and angrier. All of my frustrations and lost dreams flew out of me like sparks.

"Ash! Stop!" Y/N giggled, protecting her sides.

"And why should I? You've got a lovely laugh." I grinned, tickling her mercilessly.

She squirmed and laughed, throwing her head back in defeat. "Ashton! Please!"

I gave in and pulled her close. "As you wish, love. But you gotta understand how much I love to hear your laugh. It's music to me. It helps me write songs."

She smiled at that and tangled her fingers with mine. "You don't need me to help write music. You do it very well without me."

But I don't. Not anymore.

I cried out in frustration, hitting the cymbal too hard. The drumstick snapped and smacked into the wall behind me. I breathed heavily and glanced at my hand. Calluses and scars decorated my palm and now a newly opened gash. I didn't care.

I rummaged around for another drumstick, cursing under my breath at the contact of it against the wound. I held the stick in my hand and tightened the grip. Pain shot through my hand, but I needed it to clear my head.

I started drumming slowly at first to get acclimated to the new pain.

"I can't do this Ashton. We've been fighting constantly and you're always gone. There's no room for me in your world anymore." Y/N said, tears in her eyes.

"You can't seriously think that. Y/N I'm doing my best to give you a life you deserve! But I have to be gone to do that! Don't you understand? I can't just drop everything to be with you all the time!" I yelled.

She set her jaw and shook her head. "The life I deserve is with someone who's there. Someone who holds me at night and someone who comes home every night."

My heart sank. "Y/N this is my job. I have to leave. I tour. I write music. I can't be home every night. Why is this such an issue to you now?"

"Because I'm lonely Ash."

I grunted and played a little faster, shaking my head. Get out. The pain in my hand wasn't lessening, but I welcomed it. The rhythm flowed through me once again and I played harder.

I paid attention to where my movements were, and to the sounds I was making. It was my art was it not? It's what I did for a living. It's what I did to escape. Escape her. Escape heartbreak.

I hissed in pain and stopped to stare at my hand. Blood coated my palm and the stick. It wasn't the first time I'd done it. And it certainly won't be the last.

"You were drumming so hard that you made yourself bleed? That's talent." Y/N laughed and helped dress my wound.

I grunted in protest as she shushed me.

"Why do you hit it so hard? You only end up hurting yourself." She wrapped a bandage around my hand and sealed it with a kiss.

"Because it gets my frustrations out. It's therapeutic."

She chuckled. "Ripping your hand open is therapeutic? Why don't you just use a knife? Or a really sharp piece of paper? It would be faster."

I kissed her cheek and thanked her for tending to me. "I do it because I love it. It's a part of me. I feel it. Sometimes too intensely."

I feel everything intensely. It took her leaving to completely prove that. Now I wish I didn't feel anything.

I ripped a piece of cloth from an old linen towel and wrapped it around my hand. I picked up the stick yet again and pounded away. I let out cries and yells of hurt and heartbreak as I drummed. Don't. Please. I can't handle it.

"Ashton I'm leaving." She interrupted me.

I stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean you're leaving?"

"I mean, I'm not staying with you anymore. It's causing me too much pain." She said, her voice wavering.

"Y/N." I whispered. "No. Don't do this. Please. We can make this work. We have in the past. We can get through this. It's a minor setback."

"A minor setback? Ashton. You're being difficult."

I felt like she had just slapped me. "Baby. Please. I love you. Don't leave me."

She looked me in the eye and grabbed her bag. "You'll be just fine."

I hit the drums harder and harder, faster and faster. The room filled with noise, my thoughts invaded my brain and it suddenly just stopped.

I dropped the sticks and looked at the figure in front of me. "Y/N?"

She smiled and motioned me close.

I stood from my stool and stared at her. "Y/N," I spoke, "Let me explain." I moved away from my drums and started towards her.

She held out a hand for me as if to say, "It's alright. I'm here."

I moved closer and reached out, but her hand disappeared. Her legs. Her body. Her arms. Her face smiled once more before she was ripped away from me.

I fell to my knees and let sobs wrack through my body. She was just a ghost that will forever haunt me.

Luke:

I woke up to the sun gleaming through the curtains. I opened my eyes and squinted in the sunlight, covering my face with my hand. I let out a sigh and sat up, glancing over at the other side of the bed.

Still can't sleep on your side.

I felt like the sheets and the pillow were mocking me. Saying "She's not here! Get over it!"

I rubbed at my eyes and yawned, letting my muscles wake up from the very little sleep I got.

When I dropped my hands and opened my eyes, I nearly had a heart attack.

"Y/N?"

She took my hands and helped me off the bed, pulling me close.

"Am I dreaming?"

She didn't answer. She only placed my hands on her waist and moved her arms up around my neck.

I looked at her, puzzled.

She gave me her famous Y/N smile and started dancing. She moved to the nonexistent music, taking me with her.

I followed her lead and held her tight, dancing to her own rhythm. She ran her fingers through my hair and danced to the hallway.

I bent down to kiss her when her form shimmered and evaporated.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" I whipped my head around, looking for the girl I loved.

Nothing.

I ran out into the hall, breathing heavily. What was that?

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I spun to see Y/N holding her hands out.

I stared at her long and hard. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

She took my hands in hers and swayed back and forth, moving closer with each step. Her eyes found mine.

I sucked in a breath and felt my heart beat faster than normal. Those were her eyes. She had to be here. I couldn't make that up. Could I?

She rested a hand on my shoulder and held mine in her other one. I followed her example and placed my free hand on her hip. It felt natural.

She danced, twirled and spun with me down the hall. I swore I could hear music this time. It was playing just for us. I concentrated on her face, letting my feet take me wherever she went. I didn't want to blink and have her disappear again. I couldn't.

Y/N reached up to touch my face and her touch sent memories flooding back.

She used to hold my face in her small hands and tell me she loved me. I could tell when she meant it because she would hold my face do gently. Like I would break if she held on too tight.

I gasped and looked at her eyes. They were no longer there.

I ran down the stairs, searching desperately for her. My heart was pounding out of my chest and my breathing was erratic. I glanced at the living room and saw her coffee cup. It still had lipstick stains that will only fade with time.

She used to drink out of that every morning. We'd have coffee and laugh about the things we'd said when we were tired from the night before. Her lipstick would always stick to the sides of the cup, but she didn't mind. It was part of her.

I blinked the memory away and a flash of movement caught my eye. I turned to feel her hands on my chest.

I grabbed at her hands and they passed right through mine. My blood bubbled with anger. "Why are you doing this? What did I do to deserve this pain?"

Her hands appeared once again against my chest. Her expression was calm and her lips turned up into a slight smile.

"Y/N please." I grabbed for her hands again, and this time they held mine. "I'm going crazy. You're not here. You can't be."

She brushed a curl from my forehead and the music that she brought started playing again. I leaned into her touch and closed my eyes. It felt so real.

Her hands wrapped around my waist and she swayed with me, dancing through the living room and the dining room. She rested her head on my chest and my eyes flew open.

She was holding on to me like I was the one who was disappearing.

I lifted her chin to look at me and pulled her close. "You're not leaving me."

I danced with her through our house, keeping my eyes on hers. I spun her and then kept her against me. She moved her hands down to mine and she slowly started to fade away.

"No. Y/N you're not doing this," I said desperately, "You need to stay with me."

She smiled sadly at me and vanished right in front of my eyes.

I angrily wiped at the tears that were starting to stream down my face.

I stormed to the kitchen and saw her sitting on the counter, her legs dangling off the edge.

"What do you want from me?!" I yelled, my voice cracking, "Why won't you speak to me?!"

She waited patiently. No anger. No frustration on her face. Just patience.

I ignored her and threw open the fridge, looking for a beer or something to distort my reality. As I grabbed for a drink, a hand took mine and pulled me away.

I looked and her fingers intertwined with mine.

"Why am I dancing with you? You're not real." I sniffed.

She hugged my neck and I thought I felt her breath on my skin. I shivered softly and held her hips. I could dream long enough to think she was here.

We danced. We danced until she disappeared again. I ran after her, searching for her touch. Her music. But every time I found her, she'd leave so quickly afterward. I couldn't keep up.

I eventually stopped at the backyard and stood on the deck, letting the wind crash into me, washing me of her touch.

I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the wind through the trees. My muscles began to relax and my heartbeat calmed.

Hands touched my face and I jumped, opening my eyes.

Y/N's fingers held my face gingerly and she made me look at her face.

I let her. I followed her hands and I looked into her face. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I started crying and hugged my stomach, begging for it to stop.

She wiped away my tears and I swear a tear escaped her eyes too.

I stood there for a long time. Crying and holding myself. I didn't notice when she had gone for good.

I would never dance through our house with the ghost of you ever again.

Calum:

I carried the box from my closet down the stairs to the main landing, setting it down on the hardwood floor.

"Alright, Duke. Let's see what we've got here." I scratched Duke's ears and smiled when he sneezed at me.

I sliced open the box and sat on the floor beside it. "I don't think I've ever cleaned that closet."

Duke huffed at me and nudged the box with his tiny head.

"Yes, I know. You've gotten lost in the closet several times. I know. That's why I'm cleaning it out. This is the last of the mysterious boxes OK?"

Another huff.

"Yeah well you don't have to go through it do you?" I shook my head and started pulling the contents out.

Pretty normal stuff. A few books, some old trophies and the embarrassing picture of me at the age of 3. I was wondering where that shoe went.

I pulled everything out and glanced at the bottom of the box. There was black fabric that was all wrinkled, smooshed into the corner of the box.

I pulled it out and my heart did a back flip. It was Y/N's old Zeppelin shirt that she wore the night she ran away to my house.

Duke tilted his head and sniffed at the shirt in my hands.

"No bud. It's nothing." I set it aside and tried to control my emotions. "It's just an old shirt. There's nothing important about it."

Duke barked at me.

"It belonged to a girl OK? If you must know." It was so much more than that. My heart ached.

Another bark.

"Duke I was too young and way too dumb to know anything about love OK? I know better now." I folded the shirt and shoved it back in the box, hoping to get rid of it.

Duke became very aggressive and began growling and barking, looking away from me.

"What are you...?" I turned to see what he was getting upset at and I choked.

There stood Y/N. She looked anxious and upset.

I stared while Duke continued to bark at our unexpected guest.

"How did you get in here?" I asked, standing up from the hard floor.

She didn't respond. Great. The silent treatment.

"Look. It's already weird enough I found a shirt that belonged to you, but it's especially weird that you show up out of nowhere. And in my house no less."

She rolled her eyes and pulled on my hand.

"What?"

She tugged harder and pointed at the time.

"It's 4:30. So what?"

She pulled me with her, setting Duke off again.

"Duke stay. I'll be back."

I think he cursed at me in dog language.

Y/N rushed me to the door and opened it, dragging me after her.

I ran with her, debating my sanity. "Where are we going?"

She let go of my hand and ran ahead of me, going suddenly into ongoing traffic.

"Y/N!" I ran faster, swerving through cars and trucks, getting complaints from honks and expletives.

Y/N kept running and dodging obstacles that I could never do in a million years. She didn't move like a human. More like a ghost.

I almost smacked into a man and his dog, but I quickly corrected myself, only to get hit with a flying disk.

"Shit!" I tripped and fell to the sidewalk, holding my head where the plastic hit.

"Sorry, bro!" Someone yelled, grabbing the infernal disk.

I almost had some very colorful words with him before a hand pulled me up.

Y/N looked worried and she pulled me after her again, slowly starting to run.

"Y/N! I can't keep chasing you! You have to tell me where we're going!"

She disappeared into an alleyway that looked less than inviting.

"You've gotta be joking." I breathed.

I felt a push from behind and I spun around, but no one was there.

"This isn't funny you know!" I shouted.

A poor mother and her young daughter quickly changed course after hearing me.

"I'm not going in there." I crossed my arms.

Another push came from behind, only this one was harder and caused me to stumble a bit.

I looked around again and no one was anywhere near me.

I grumbled and stalked towards the alleyway, shoving my hands in my pocket.

It was much colder in the alley. There was barely any light and it smelled of things that aren't pleasant.

I stepped over, hopefully, what were fish bones and kept wandering through the alley. That's when I saw her again. She was waiting for me at the end.

I quickened my pace and as soon as I got close, she ran again. I sighed and jogged after her. My mind wandered to that day she showed up at my house in her rain-soaked Led Zeppelin shirt.

A knock sounded through the house and I pulled myself up from the couch. I walked to the door and swung it open to see Y/N. The girl I was hopelessly in love with.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

Tears stained her cheeks and she sniffled. "I ran away."

I helped her inside and grabbed a towel to dry her off. "What do you mean you ran away?"

"I ran away Calum. That's what it means," she sniffed, "I couldn't be in that house anymore. My parents don't understand my hurt. No one can feel it. Only me."

I listened to her, holding her close to warm her up from the cold night. She confided in me and fell asleep in my arms that night.

The next morning would be when I told her how I felt about her. She didn't feel the same way. That is, until about a month later. She reciprocated my feelings and we were unstoppable.

I kept running after her, remembering the strong feelings I used to have for her. They bubbled up inside me and filled me with the longing that I had for her for months after we broke up. It hurt. A lot.

Y/N ran through the streets, not looking where she was going. But she didn't get hit or anything. She just effortlessly avoided everything.

I barely survived the next street. I tripped over a dogs leash and stumbled right into the path of a motorcycle that screeched to a stop, just inches from my face.

I apologized profusely and continued to follow Y/N, not knowing why I was still going.

"I'm in love with you Y/N. I always will be." I whispered against her neck, holding her tightly.

"I love you too Calum." She said back, running her hands over my bare chest. "Can we stay like this forever?"

I smiled and nuzzled her neck, feeling her soft skin against my cheek. "Forever and ever babe."

I panted and turned the corner, having lost Y/N completely. "Shit."

I stopped to catch my breath and try to get my bearings. I had no idea where I was. Houses and businesses surrounded me, but I felt alone.

Movement came from my right and I turned, seeing Y/N double back for me.

I held up a hand and panted. "I'm not used to running marathons. Give me a second."

The invisible force pushed me again and I groaned. "C'mon Y/N. Stop. I don't know why I'm following you in the first place. I'm just chasing ghosts."

Y/N stood in front of me and placed her hand on my cheek softly.

I glanced up at her and my heart squeezed. "How can I still be in love with you?"

She smiled sadly and started to lead me again.

I sighed and followed her.

"It ended badly. That's it." I told Mali, stopping her questions. "She decided to go a different way. One that didn't include me OK?"

After running another mile I almost collapsed, sucking in breaths. Y/N slipped down the next street without me.

I forced myself to go down the street and stopped dead in my tracks.

First of all, Y/N disappeared altogether, but that wasn't the part that stopped me. It was the fact that she brought me to the place we had our first date.

It was a small cafe with two awnings that protruded from the front of the building. We sat under them on the date. She looked beautiful. I was nervous. All of it was rushing back.

I stared at the building, wondering why she brought me here. I started to tear up and watched people come in and out of the cafe.

"Calum your phone's going off," Luke said, setting his guitar down.

I saw her name flash across the screen and I hesitated before answering.

"Is this Calum Hood?" It wasn't her voice. It was her mom's voice.

"Yeah, this is him. What's going on?"

She choked back a sob. "Calum. She's gone. She loved you so much. Even after the breakup."

I listened to her mom tell me about the accident. She had been running while it was raining. The truck didn't see her. She couldn't dodge it.

She pulled me out of the house at 4:30. The exact time she left. I didn't realize. I stared at the cafe and wished for the ghost to come back. To comfort me. To show me she was alive. But she wasn't.

Michael:

I took another swig from the bottle and started another game. I purposely had the room dark and cold because of the amount of alcohol I planned on drinking tonight. It was going to be a lot.

I played and drank, watching the lives of characters on the screen come to life. I hit buttons quickly and avoided death more times than I'd like. But that was the name of the game. Surviving pretty much.

I glanced at the team chat and scoffed at the mention of Y/N. It was a low blow.

I typed back a strongly worded message and went back to playing the game, trying to ignore the thoughts creeping into my head. I wasn't going to be thinking about her tonight.

The screen showed my death and I cursed, taking another drink. I needed to close my eyes for a moment.

"You're still playing that game? And drinking? Is that really what you're doing right now?" Y/N's voice was loud and clear in my mind.

"I'm having fun. That's why. Leave me alone."

"Michael you shouldn't do this to yourself. Please."

Her face came into view and I gripped the beer bottle.

"But you won't stay with me if I don't. I have to Y/N. It's the only way I can see you." I said, holding her hands.

"Michael."

I opened my eyes and everything faded away. She wasn't really here. I knew that. But I could simulate her being here.

I grabbed a shot glass and poured me a shot of whiskey. I downed it quickly and hissed. C'mon. Work.

I felt a little lightheaded and closed my eyes again.

"Michael please stop." Her sweet voice and face appeared to me. "You're going to harm yourself if you keep doing this."

"But..."

"No buts. Open your eyes or I'll open them for you."

I opened my eyes and mumbled, "Big bully."

"A bully? Hardly. I'm just looking out for you." Her voice came from the right.

I looked and screamed. There, seated on my couch was Y/N.

"How did you get in my house?!"

She smiled and took the bottle out of my hands. "I'm magic. That's why. Now pause the damn game and talk to me."

I did as she told me and paused the game, getting complaints from my teammates.

"Good. Now, why are you cooped up in here, drinking yourself to insanity?" She asked, resting her head on her hand.

"I miss you." I breathed. "I only see you when I'm like this."

She frowned and brushed the pink hair out of my face. "I'd rather you just dream of me. Or draw me horribly on a piece of paper."

I chuckled and held her soft hand. "But it's not as real. I know even now you're not really here."

Y/N squeezed my hand. "But you have to move on. We had good times, yes, but we've also been apart for a while now."

I didn't want to move on. She was the love of my life. But we broke up. We couldn't help it. Being away for so long and us both working, it wouldn't have lasted anyway.

"I still miss you though." I murmured.

"I know. I miss you too. But the drinking isn't gonna fix that. Think of me as an angel who came down to help you."

I snorted. "An angel? I don't know about that."

"Still the same old Michael." She smiled and started to fade away, along with the effects of the shot.

I sighed and started up my game again, trying to distract myself from taking another drink.

I played and sent messages until I eventually died again.

I ran my fingers through my hair and reached for the bottle.

A hand stopped me and softly smacked it. "What did I say?"

I looked at her again. "Do you just appear and disappear whenever you want?"

"Pretty much. Yes." She gave me a stern look.

"Why do you care if I drink or not? You're not my girlfriend anymore." I spat.

"I can still care for you. You know that. You obviously still care about me." She said matter of fact.

"You're mental," I muttered, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I'm mental? For trying to keep you safe? Sure, Mike. Maybe you don't need me. Maybe you're right. I'm not real. I'll leave you alone." She whispered, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stared at her place on the couch and grabbed the whiskey anyway. I poured myself a shot of truth and chased it with the memories of Y/N.

(A/N: Every time I listen to Ghost of You, these scenarios pop into my head. I’m happy with the way I wrote them, but I’d love any feedback. Also, I’m sorry for the emotions. Whoops. If you have any ideas for me to write, please let me know! I’d be happy to write for you. Thanks for reading -Kenzie xx)

For more lighthearted 5SOS;

Bubble Bath Series

Ashton Calum Luke Michael

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 7 years ago

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Fate Diverted - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Damian Wayne, bits of Dick and Bruce Summary: Robin died, but Jon didn’t know him anyway. A/N: A kind of what-if-ish au, on if Jon was in the continuity when Damian died, or something like. Whether Damian still has his powers upon resurrection is up to the reader. Jon is probably 8ish in this fic? (Also, small self-promo: I wrote an original short story and published it on Amazon, and if you like my fics, it’d mean the world if you checked it out too!)

He came home, and found his mom crying.

“Mom?!” He asked, dropping his bag by the door. Lois jumped and looked up at him, and her tears seemed to fall faster. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Is…is Dad okay?”

As Jon neared her, she sniffed and held his face between both of her hands.

“Your father’s fine.” She whispered, trying to smile. “Just…ah, something’s happened. Something…something incredibly terrible, and he’s trying to help deal with it.”

“What happened?” Jon asked, holding her wrists. “Can I help him…?”

“Nothing…nothing you need to worry yourself with. Just. Something with an old family friend.” Lois still tried. She dropped her hands, and Jon reluctantly let her go. “Now, don’t worry about me. It was just some hard news to hear. Go on upstairs and get your homework started, okay?”

Jon watched his mother for a moment. Watched as Lois dabbed at her eyes and tried to regain some composure. Eventually he sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else out of her. He turned back to his bag, picked it up, and slowly made his way upstairs.

And he stayed there, even when he heard his father return. Silently crept to the top of the steps, and listened to his mother’s still-watery voice.

“How’s he doing?” She whispered.

“He’s…a wreck.” Clark returned. “I haven’t seen him this…bad since Jason. And even then, his grief made him shut down. This time, he’s…he’s angry and guilty and…’a mess’ doesn’t even seem to be the right word for it.”

“What about the others?”

“God, Lois…” Jon heard a sigh, and now his father sounded upset too. “Dick won’t leave the body. He won’t eat, he won’t sleep. He’s just standing there holding his hand. Any time Bruce or Alfred try to get him to do anything, he screams and fights them. If they can’t get him to do anything on his own soon, they’ll have to forcibly sedate him.”

“Oh, Jesus…”

“Tim…honestly, I had to keep checking to see if he was breathing. He just sat there, staring into space. Wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t look at me. I had Conner send him a text, and he wouldn’t even look at it. I don’t think he still has.” A pause. “And Bruce is going to burst. He won’t let himself grieve right now. He’s barely taking care of his other children, the ones who are there or the ones who aren’t. Cassandra and Jason didn’t return afterwards. Alfred and I couldn’t get a location on them, or anyone else in Bruce’s circle. And Bruce is just…running on rage. Going after the one who killed his son as opposed to mourning him.”

“Does he know who did it?” Lois asked. “I mean, this wasn’t Joker or anything like that, so…”

“It was Talia.” Clark breathed. Lois audibly gasped. “Damian’s mother.”

“I…no way.” Lois tried. “I know she’s a bad person, I’ve heard the stories, but. To kill her own son?!”

“I think that’s what makes this whole thing even worse.” Jon heard movement, and the plop of someone sitting down on their old sofa. “…The kid was almost cut in half, Lois. That’s how big the stab wound was.”

Jon heard his mother sit down next to his father.

“And…for a few seconds, I even questioned if the sword was the cause of death.” Clark’s voice was muffled, like his face was in his hands. “He had so many injuries. Arrows sticking out of his back. Bruises, cuts. The sword made it an instant death, but even without that, he could have died from the attacks he’d already suffered alone, if they didn’t get him to a hospital in time.”

Silence.

“Eleven. Bruce told me he was eleven years old, Lois.” Suddenly Clark sounded wrecked, and Jon wanted to run down the stairs and hold him. When his father let out a sob, Jon physically jumped at the sound. “Damian was only eleven years old.”

Jon didn’t want to hear anymore. He’d gotten the facts. Some kid his parents knew named Damian had died. Horribly, apparently, and at the hands of his own mother. And there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing Superman could do about it. Nothing he could do for Superman either.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and stood, quickly going back to his room and closing the door.

They were on their way out of town, on a father-son trip, when, as they passed the Gotham limits, Clark suddenly turned the car, mumbling about making a quick stop.

Jon didn’t mind. He hadn’t been to Gotham many times, let alone such a huge, sprawling house. So he just hung on to his dad’s hand as they walked up the front stoop, and were led through the house, and past a secret clock door, by an elderly butler.

Batman was there, at a computer. His cowl was back, and it revealed a tired-looking older man. There were bags under his eyes and scars across his face. He barely turned when Clark, after telling Jon to stay back, approached him.

But Jon didn’t much care about his dad’s ‘work friends.’ Really, he was more interested in the cave around him. All the technology, and even the rocks themselves.

He was just looking around – but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned towards a series of cases, some holding costumes, some empty.

There was a man sitting on the ground in front of one, leaning against it, his cheek smushed against the glass as he stared blankly inside. He was in a black and blue uniform – Nightwing, he recalled his father telling him.

Nightwing’s uniform was a wreck, exposing bruises and gashes all across his body. He didn’t seem to mind them, though. Seemed more focused on the bloody costume inside the case.

The uniform was small, and it took Jon longer than he’d have liked to admit to realize it was Robin’s. The kid who died a few weeks ago.

“He wouldn’t want you to be like this.” He heard his father gently telling Batman. “He wouldn’t want any of you to be like this.”

There were tears on Nightwing’s face. And by how puffy his eyes were, it looked like there’d been tears on his face for a while.

Jon took a step forward, but stopped immediately. Should he go comfort him? Would he be accepted? Nightwing didn’t know him, and he didn’t know this man. Didn’t know what he’d been through. A child had died, Jon knew that objectively, sure, but he wasn’t necessarily sad about it. He didn’t know the child either. So could he truly comfort a man who was still in mourning after losing his eleven-year-old brother?

It turned out – he didn’t have to. Clark was there instantly himself, crouching in front of the younger man, Batman basically abandoned, though probably by the Dark Knight’s order, not his father’s choice.

Silently he put a hand on Nightwing’s shoulder. Nightwing didn’t react at first, kept staring at that bloody uniform. After a few seconds, he only moved his eyes, to look up at Superman.

Clark smiled, and said something short. It’s okay, probably. Nightwing’s tears seemed to just fall faster, and he began to shake his head, keeping his cheek painfully tight against that glass.

But his father just kept that smile, even when it turned sad. Gently reached out and gathered Nightwing into his arms. Nightwing fell into his chest, clinging to his shirt, as sobs wracked his shoulders. Clark just held him, rubbing carefully at his injured back.

Jon glanced at Batman. He hadn’t turned away from his computer, but he did stop typing. Listening to his partner’s cries.

Jon just tilted his head and curiosity, and waited.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, Jonno?”

Jon stared out the window at the receding manor. “I’m…confused.”

“About what?”

“Nightwing seemed more upset about losing Robin than Batman did.”

Clark paused for a moment. Remained silent until they got on the highway a few miles away.

“…Things aren’t always as they appear, son.” Clark said quietly. “Batman and Nightwing loved Robin equally. They just show their grief…differently.”

“…Oh.” Jon hummed, staring at the trees passing outside. “Robin was Batman’s son, right?”

“Yes.” Clark said. “However, there was a time when Robin lived with, and was raised by, Nightwing. And the two of them became incredibly close.”

“So…they were almost like father and son too?”

“You could look at it that way, I suppose.” Clark sighed. He went quiet again for a moment, like he was debating himself in his own mind. “…Robin died for Nightwing.”

“What?”

“Robin died protecting Nightwing.” Clark explained quietly. “Nightwing blames himself for their loss. So, even if they weren’t as close as they were, Nightwing would still have that extra guilt on his shoulders.”

“…Oh.” Jon repeated, but sadder this time. “Does Batman blame him?”

“Oh no, never. Batman blames himself too.” A bitter chuckle. “The Bats are all good at that particular skill. Blaming themselves.”

“…Would Robin blame either of them?”

“I didn’t know the boy well, but I don’t think so. He loved them too much to blame or accuse them much of anything.” Clark explained. Another long sigh. “You were supposed to meet him, you know.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. When your mother and I thought you were ready to meet folks in the hero community.” Clark mumbled. “I’d…hoped you two would have become friends.”

Jon didn’t know what to say to that. Me too? That’s cool? Sucks he died first?

So in the end, he said nothing. Just kept staring out the window.

Jon had always been bullied. He was used to that. Goody two-shoes, dweeb, loser, brown-noser. He’d heard it all, it never much bothered him.

It did make him lonely, though.

Because, yeah he had friends. But his friends didn’t – and couldn’t, he didn’t blame them – always come to his aide. Normally, he had to deal with these on his own, and afterwards, his friends would hide in shame.

Not to mention, no one else knew what it was like, having Superman as their dad.

This wouldn’t happen if I was friends with Robin the Boy Wonder, he found himself thinking after a while, bitterly. Robin wouldn’t take any of this sitting down. Robin would know what it’s like, having a superhero as a dad.

That bitterness turned to downright anger after a while. Because it wasn’t fair. Jon didn’t have many friends. And one of his potential future ones got killed before they could meet. What’d Jon do to the universe to make it do that to him?

One day, after a particularly bad bout with the bullies, he returned home and glanced at the fridge. There were family pictures there, of various life events. One in particular, though, showed his parents with Bruce Wayne. All in fancy suits and smiling for a pose. Around them were Bruce’s children. His older sons on the edges, his daughter and youngest son in the front, cocooned by the three adults. He was smirking, hands in his pockets.

Damian, his name was.

“I hate you.” Jon decided, poking harshly at Damian’s face. He thought of Nightwing, sobbing at the uniform case, and poked Damian’s face again. “This is all your fault.”

Damian just kept smirking, even as Jon stomped out of the room.

His powers started to develop. Lois went back to working full time at the Planet. Superman was needed more and more every day.

Jon felt more alone than ever.

It was a call in the middle of the night. And with his super-hearing coming in at random times, the phone’s ringer was a surprise fire alarm inside his head, even though – he realized after near jumping out of his skin – it was in his parents’ room.

His hearing dropped out, but he could still hear his father’s voice. The creaking of his bed. His mother’s questioning voice, his father answering.

Suddenly, the whoosh of Superman flying from the house, just as Jon got to the hallway.

“Mom?” He could see her still lying in her bed, looking after where he husband had just disappeared from. She glanced at him. “What’s going on?”

“Call from Batman.” She said gently, then smiled a little bit. “There’s been an…update.”

“Update?” Jon asked. “On what?”

“Robin.” Her smile grew, like it did when she was proud of Jon. A ‘mom thing,’ Clark called it. “…He’s…he’s back.”

Jon didn’t say anything. Just slowly turned back into his room, ignoring the excitement swirling in his gut.

When they got to the Batcave, Jon almost went in search himself, like he was Krypto on the hunt. Clark must have known that, because as soon as they settled on the platform, he put a strong hand on Jon’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Bruce?”

Batman was where he always seemed to be, at that computer. He perked at Clark’s voice, but didn’t turn.

And that was all the attention Jon gave him. Instantly let his gaze wander around the Batcave, bypassing the tools and technology. Looking for another sign of life.

There.

He was on what appeared to be practice mats, in training gear. Lanky, but bright-eyed, and clearly breathing. Clearly alive. He wasn’t practicing or training, though. Rather, he was playing with a cat. Dancing around with a ribbon toy, laughing as the cat jumped and twisted between his legs.

A dog and a cow were relaxing in a corner nearby.

He let the cat catch the toy, and plopped down on the mat beside it. The cat curled into his side, kicking at the string. Damian kept smiling, but closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh.

And Jon couldn’t contain himself.

He slipped out from underneath Clark’s hand, and went slowly walking towards the practice area. Damian didn’t stir, but Jon had a feeling he heard him anyway. After all, the cat and dog sure did. Their ears perked and they looked straight at him.

Still, he stopped when he reached the edge of the mat. Watched for a moment, then softly called: “Hello.”

Damian slowly opened his eyes and glanced over, face blank. The cat rolled onto its back, rubbing its nose at Damian’s chin.

“Hello.” Damian said coolly. “And you are?”

“Jon.” He offered. “Jon Ke-”

“Superman’s son.” Damian cut off, eyes glittering in interest. “Superboy.”

“Ha, not quite.” Jon laughed. “But you’re Robin.”

“When my father will allow me to be again.” Damian huffed, rolling to his side and sitting up. The cat meowed in loss. “Or perhaps a little sooner, if I so choose to.”

“Well.” Jon hummed, watching Damian stand, stretch, and then start towards him. Hesitantly, though, like he didn’t trust his visitor. But still trying to keep that cool façade. “I could ask my dad if you could patrol with him. I’ve been begging for him to take me out for ages.”

“Me, with the Supers?” Damian raised an eyebrow at him, eyes glancing down his body before frowning. Jon was taller than him, and he could see it bothered the older Bat. “My mother would be appalled.”

The mother who killed him, was the only thing Jon could think. And that made him angry, and selfishly so. Not so much because a mother killed her son, or that someone killed a child. But the woman killed his friend, before he could even be so.

Damian’s eyes suddenly shot past him. “…You’re not supposed to be over here talking to me.”

Jon glanced back. Both their fathers were watching them. Clark looking disappointed, and Bruce straight up glaring at him. Protective, Jon figured. He didn’t want anyone near his newly resurrected and returned son. No threats, no unknowns. Jon got that. He could respect that.

…To a point.

“I know.” Jon sighed, looking back. “I just…needed to.”

Damian looked back at him, eyebrow still quirked. “Needed to?”

“…Yeah.” Jon murmured embarrassingly. “…My dad said we were supposed to be meet. You know, before you died. He hoped we’d have been friends. I guess I kind of did too.”

“Did he?” Damian asked quietly. Thoughtful, more than surprised. “Interesting. I was…unaware of that.”

“Me too, until it was too late.” Jon pursed his lips. “I hate when they do that. Keep secrets and stuff?”

“I do as well.” Damian nodded with a smirk. The same smirk as that photo on Jon’s fridge. “Never pegged Superman to be that kind of man, though. I thought that was more of a thing my father did.”

“Well, they do hang out all the time. Maybe they rubbed off on each other.” Jon shrugged. “…Think we could hang out, like they do?”

“I don’t hang out.” Damian sniffed haughtily. “…But I wouldn’t be against patrolling with you and your father some time, if your offer was genuine.”

“Sure.” Jon grinned. “I’ll ask my mom.”

“Your mom.” Damian snorted, glancing back to where his cat was still on the mat. “…You own a farm, correct?”

“Yup.” Jon nodded. “My dad does most of the work, though.”

Damian hummed. “…Would you like to meet my cow, then? I rescued her from a slaughterhouse. Her name is Batcow, and she’s a better crime fighter than two of my brothers combined.” He glanced away awkwardly, looking almost sheepish for the first time since Jon’s ever known of his existence. “I mean, if you are supposed to meet me, then it’d only be correct for you to meet all of my associates as well.”

He turned away before Jon could answer, walking royally across the cave, but Jon didn’t care. Failed in hiding his sudden smile as he trailed after Damian.

“Unless you’d like to remain here by yourself and be bored to tears by our fathers, of course.”

After his friend.

“Nah, I’ll.” Jon jumped up even to him, and he caught another one of Damian’s smirks out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll stick with you, if that’s okay.”

(Even if Damian refused to admit that title for a few more years.)

#jon kent #Damian Wayne #clark kent #Lois Lane

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howsmyhairlook · 4 years ago

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Texts From Last Night Writing Prompt:

•Brand hosted events. When a baby influencer gets the invite to their first ever event, with all the swag and monogrammed gifts, that was when you knew your clout was climbing in the right direction. All those over-staged flat lays and maintaining the grid aesthetic had finally proven worth the effort.

My first brand hosted event was in NYC. I’d been invited to a few, but I still had some dignity, and took my desire to be a well respected influencer seriously, and so I had declined the ones that simply didn’t make sense for what I was trying to accomplish with my account. I was no sell out, Mr. Mhmm was not an easy buy bitch willing to promote shit I didn’t actually like. Flat tummy tea? Pfft. Hair gummies? Please. My locks were natural and salon maintained like they should be. I didn’t mess with the work of my stylist. He’d cut my ears off if I did.

I knew holding out on accepting events that didn’t necessarily match my vibe would delay the instant gratification everyone craved, but I actually wanted to stay true to what I had been building. It was a slow process and one that wasn’t without blood, sweat (ew) and a few tears. So when an up and coming clothing brand, owned by someone who was out and proudly queer invited me to a fashion show during Pride, I RSVP’d faster than I could deny the squeal of delight upon reading their email.

Attending an event like this was not just a fun weekend away, it was also work. Having my flight, hotel and of course all the food and drinks when I attended their events paid for wasn’t exactly “free”, I was expected to in return post no less than twenty stories highlighting the goings on through the weekend. At the time, I thought it was an easy price to pay. My insta was going to be a three day weekend promo. I had it all planned out, I’d be the best attendee they had ever extended an invite to.

The night was going perfectly. The food was delicious, drinks were flowing, and the first of three fashion shows scheduled for the weekend had me doing multiple double takes in the best possible way. I made sure to snap a photo of each piece I loved and gushed appropriately about it on my feed. My followers were loving it, and the brand had shared my stories on their stories. It felt like the perfect execution of how an influencer and a brand could collaborate together.

The second night was an early evening show that delved into menswear and BOY was I feeling it. This particular fashion show had the models mingling among the crowd allowing everyone to get a more up close look at the clothing. Let’s be honest, though, the man candy was where my eyes were landing. And, because I’m me, I dressed to impress.

Once or twice I was confused for being part of the show. It was quite the ego boost. Not to mention a compliment to the designer that my vintage Gucci suit jacket fit into the vibe well enough to have me being confused for a model. The only difference was that instead of wearing any kind of slacks like the models had on, I was wearing tailored shorts to show off my argyle socks which were being held up by leather garters. I never skipped an opportunity to show off such an underrated accessory.

I also didn’t skip an opportunity to enjoy the free drinks each time one of the waitstaff would pass by with a tray. Selfies were being taken, numbers were given out. People were telling others to slide into their DMs. I’d given my number to more than a handful of people I’d had conversations with. It was exactly as you’d imagine a gathering of tipsy people might progress.

When the evening seemed to be winding down and the room had thinned out, I decided it was time to head back to my suite for the night, grateful the fashion show had been held in the same hotel the brand had booked my room. As I waited for the elevator to arrive, my phone, which had been buzzing most of the night buzzed again, only this time, it vibrated in my pocket to indicate I’d received a text from an unknown number.

Swiping it open with my thumb I smiled upon reading the words.•

(870) It was great chatting with you tonight. Too bad you decided to leave…

•I’d spoken with so many people this evening, and given my number out to the majority of them, I had no idea who was on the other side. My response was a polite thank you before asking who it was. The speech bubble popped up, then disappeared for a couple of seconds before another text came through.•

(870) Also, wanted to tell you, I really liked those socks you were wearing.

•An odd compliment but I was happy to take it because I loved my socks. Then, another text came before I could reply to the still nameless person.•

(870) There’s something sensual about taking off a pair of socks.

•Um.

What?

The elevator had arrived but I ignored it, instead turning around and looking throughout the lobby to see if anyone had followed me. I wasn’t lucky enough to find my mystery texter giving me the obvious sock lover vibes so I replied again to ask who it was. Instead of an answer, another text came through.•

(870) A bunch of us have headed to the club down the road, you should join. I’ll tell you who I am if you show.

•I hesitated, but not for very long. The mystery was too much, I HAD to know. My reply was quick, telling them I was on my way. I kept my eyes on my phone as I made my way through the hotel lobby, but my unnamed texter left me on read. Tempting me even further to get there as quickly as I could. I didn’t even know the gender of the person I was going to meet, not that it mattered to me.

Maybe I was being foolish going out on my own to meet some person at a club in a city I didn’t really know that well, but my fearlessness was fuelled by alcohol and I’d most likely realize the error in judgement in the morning. For now, I was hailing a cab to take me a mere couple of blocks just so I could meet this person sooner, walking would only delay the reveal of what I was anticipating to be an Ah Ha moment. Any amount of patience I normally possessed had vacated my faculties quicker than my followers had liked my posts from the show earlier in the evening.

My arrival at the club was anti-climatic.

Nobody was waiting outside for me. Rude. Then again, I wasn’t some Pretty in Pink girl who was coming of age, I was a grown ass man following the request of a semi-weird text just to learn who the sender was. For the record, though, I could totally rock the colour pink, if I wanted. I wasn’t biased when it came to colours I’d wear.

By some kind of luck. No, actually, it was by the grace of New York clubbing standards, it was still early despite the actual time, and there was no line to get in. I found myself taking in the atmosphere and sounds while eyeballing every group of people I passed on my way to the bar, staring a little too hard at their faces, hoping one might strike as familiar. They didn’t.

I placed my request for a drink with the bartender, my buzz was fading and with it, my gusto to see this through. His smile was easy and friendly as he spoke.• “One Last Word for the dapper dresser.”

•He winked and I slid him some cash with one hand while the other lifted the glass so I could down the entire drink in a couple of gulps. The gin flowed effortlessly down my throat, and I tapped my fingers on the bartop, trying to decide if I wanted a second. As I was deciding, a deep raspy voice sounded from behind me.• “I’ll take a Pussyfoot, please and another here for Mr. Mhmm.”

•I froze. His voice. Oh my Gucci. My body had a visceral reaction to it as I felt the rumble along with the sound of it. I wanted to hear more, I didn’t even care that he had ordered the strangest sounding drink I’d ever heard. He moved to stand next to me, and I turned to get a look at who I assumed was my mystery texter.

He had been at the event earlier in the night, and we had spoken, though I didn’t recall giving him my number. My eyes scanned over his body and I could feel them growing wider the further they travelled. Long gone was his suit and tie. He’d made a costume change, and was now in full leather gear. Where his hair had been artfully tousled, it was now slicked back. More than all of that, which was QUITE the sight to behold on its own, from the lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows, I realized he was at least twenty-five years older than me. He chuckled deeply at my reaction and didn’t that sound just hit me right in the groin. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to shake off the reaction my body was having. It didn’t work.

I was TRULY speechless and this leather daddy was letting me suffer. He said nothing until our drinks had been made and delivered. I wanted to ask what was in his, but I was pretty sure I’d caught a glimpse of an egg yolk being dropped into his glass so I took my own and swallowed half before I could get my tongue to form proper words.•

I don’t remember giving you my number. Also, thank you for the drink. How did you get it?

•He grinned at my jumbled thoughts but seemed to make perfect sense of what I was trying to say. He took his time sipping at his drink before speaking, and I got the distinct impression he enjoyed making others squirm. The silence was killer but I resisted the urge to fill the space, willing to wait to hear his voice again. He didn’t disappoint.• “You’re welcome. A friend of mine passed your number on to me after I wouldn’t shut up about your garters.”

•The reminder of my beloved accessory had me looking down at them, and I laughed as I realized they were leather, no wonder he liked them so much.• Oh yes. Nobody likes slouchy socks, right?

•I snapped my mouth closed when his grin turned slow and lecherous. I’d said his magic words, apparently, and most likely reminded him of his text about how sensual sock removal could be. I held my breath waiting again for him to deem enough time had passed before he was ready to speak some more.• “I prefer them to be pulled as high as they can go so I can take my time removing them.”

•Yep. Definitely my mystery texter. But now what?!• What do you want with me? What’s your name? Do you have some kind of sock fetish? I’m not judging if you do, honest. I just can’t seem to shut my mouth up, this kind of thing has never happened to me.

•Instead of answering my twenty questions, he nudged my drink closer to me, picking up his own and then stepped away from the bar. When I grabbed the glass, he nodded his head for me to follow. OF COURSE, I was hot on his heels. I wanted all the answers. For how much he had no problem doing all the speaking during the text exchange, he was unsettlingly silent.

And yet, I followed him all the way to a curtained off area that was entirely private. There was a small table that sat low to the floor in front of a leather sofa. He sat down first, the leather of his pants creaking against the sofa. Then, he placed his drink on the table before tapping the spot beside him. I moved to sit, leaving some space between us. He grinned, not seeming to mind that I hadn’t landed my ass right where his hand had indicated I should be. Once I was seated did he decide to speak, answering only the questions he wanted to.•

“My name is Charles. You can call me Charlie. Or Daddy if you prefer.” •He winked at me before allowing his eyes to sweep over my body the way I had done to him at the bar. His eyes stayed on my socks as he continued.• “I really do love your socks. Can I see them closer?”

•My head tilted in confusion, first because I was not the type of person to call anyone daddy regardless of my wide open sexuality. Second because I was not really sure how much closer he wanted my socks to get when we were already only a couple of feet apart. He took my silence as hesitation and reached down to grab one of my feet, putting it in his lap and holding it there until he was certain I wasn’t going to pull my foot away.

Charlie began to run his hand up my shin, his fingers were light and gentle, tracing over the different coloured shapes. When he got to the top of the sock, his index finger dipped below the elastic, pulling it away from my skin and allowing it to lightly snap against my leg. Such an innocent act felt obscene and dirty.

I didn’t know whether or not I was turned on or off. I did know I wanted to see where he was going with this. Next his fingers moved to the garter at the top of my calf, he traced over it the same way he did my sock. Taking his time, studying the details. I took his low grunt as approval. I knew the leather was soft and supple, not to mention high quality and by the sound he had made, he knew it, too.

His other hand had moved to the lace on my shoe, pulling the bow loose and grabbing ahold of the heel to slip my shoe off completely. I thought maybe I might be getting lucky with a foot rub...

I was wrong.

SO very, very wrong.

I found myself full of shock when he leaned forward and put his mouth on my foot. Not a kiss, or anything sweet and simple, but completely wrapped his lips around my toes and filled his mouth with my foot. I felt his tongue through my sock trying to push between my toes, the fabric growing wet with his efforts. He moaned around my foot and I felt the vibrations all the way across my sole.

That was the moment I decided any chances of being turned on were long gone. Not even alcohol could help me be okay with this. I was not into this the way Charlie very clearly was. I pulled my foot back and sputtered as I shook my head.• Nope. No way. No. I’m sorry but no matter how hot you are, and how much my dick loves the sound of your voice, can I get on board with toe sucking.

•I stood, and stepped backward, abandoning my unfinished drink. He seemed to be expecting my reaction and I watched in horror as he grabbed my shoe and began to smell the inside of it. That definitively answered the fetish question he had ignored.

If anyone noticed I was all but running to the exit, they didn’t say anything, thankfully. I probably could have walked at a normal speed but I was not looking to find myself a new hook up or have any more drinks, and I certainly was not going to wait around for Charlie to finish enjoying himself with my shoe. Absolutely not.

As I settled into the cab, and gave the name of my hotel to the driver, I decided the separation of such an amazing pair of shoes was worth the loss just to bring the entire foot blowjob experience to an end. This was what I deserved for attempting to mix a working weekend with someone else’s pleasure. With a relieved sigh, I resigned myself that next time I received a mystery text, I was going to ignore it the way I had ignored all the signs Charlie had been giving me to indicate he had a foot fetish.•

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