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five-rivers · 3 years ago

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While You Still Can

For Ectober Day 2: Scream

Warnings: Accidental self-injury, repeated injury, minor blood, muteness.

The first time Danny got laryngitis was the day after returning from the bad future. He’d been a bit of a baby about it, too, because not being able to communicate effectively while already feeling like garbage and being depressed wasn’t great. Jazz had been very understanding about it all.

He got it again the next time he used the Ghostly Wail, and resigned himself to the inconvenient side effect. The Wail was sort of a last resort power to begin with, since it drained so much of his energy and left him vulnerable. He hoped that with time and practice it would get better.

He hoped in vain.

The day after Tucker's resignation from the student body presidential race, Danny, Sam, and Tucker splayed, exhausted and still slightly sandy, in Sam's basement. They'd settled on watching a nature documentary at some point, although none of them were really paying attention to it.

Tucker sighed heavily and readjusted himself so that his legs hung over the arm of the loveseat he’d commandeered. “So, I’m tied with Danny for most frequently possessed,” said Tucker.

“Seems like it,” said Sam, lazily twitching her foot to kick Tucker’s. “Unless mind control doesn’t count as being possessed.”

“Ugh. I hate this. Do you think we should try to practice throwing off overshadowing again? I hate that, too.”

“Dunno. Danny, do you think that would do any good?”

Danny, because he had the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel, tried to answer verbally. This was painful and did not work well.

The sound from the documentary briefly dissolved into something that wasn’t quite static. All three teens sat up, straight and wary of any ghostly intruders.

Danny’s ghost sense did not go off. Danny, who hadn’t been looking forward to how his ghost sense would feel against his abused throat, sighed in relief.

“Wait,” said Sam, “the static- Danny, was that you?”

Danny shrugged. If it was, it wasn’t on purpose.

“Maybe… Can you try to talk again?”

That would hurt. He made a face.

“I know,” said Sam. “But if it was you, don’t you want to know?”

“Could be the start of a new ghost power,” said Tucker, lying back down.

Danny rolled his eyes, but once again tried to speak. Once again, the sound of the documentary cut out, replaced by something else. Something that wasn’t words, but also wasn’t just random noise.

“Weird,” said Tucker. “So. New power, I guess. Do you think you’ll be able to do that without your voice gone?”

Danny shrugged. It wasn’t like these things came with a guidebook. Also, this didn’t seem particularly useful for anything except getting his friends’ attention when he was temporarily mute.

“I wonder if it works on recordings,” mused Tucker. “It’d be useful for making sure no one catches you transforming on film.”

Ah. That was true.

“We’d have to test it,” said Sam.

Danny dropped back onto the floor. He didn’t want to do anything today.

“Later?” suggested Sam. “Maybe once your voice is back?”

Danny gave her a thumbs up.

Danny’s voice came back the next day, as usual. Trying to mess with audio electronics had no effect, so they sort of forgot about it and ignored it. It wasn’t important.

They didn’t think it was important.

Danny kept using his Ghostly Wail as a trump card. His voice always took a vacation afterwards, but never for too long. Never long enough for Danny to worry. His parents were making noises about bringing Danny to the doctor, maybe a throat specialist. But they were ridiculously easy to distract.

Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

Until Technus came by with a massive upgrade, courtesy of Vlad, Danny suspected, and Danny had to use his wail twice in a row.

He managed to cap the thermos before he doubled over, coughing. Blood speckled the asphalt below him. Which was disturbing for a number of reasons, not least of which being that he was in ghost form, and shouldn’t be bleeding red at all.

He heard a gasp, and twisted in a way that probably would have broken a normal, human spine.

Sam and Tucker were looking at him with a great deal of consternation and worry.

“Dude…” said Tucker, softly.

Danny winced, and his rings flickered.

“Don’t do that now,” said Sam, scoldingly. “Shoot. We need to get you to Frostbite or something. That’s- Oh my gosh. Frick.”

Danny grimaced. They’d seen him more beaten up, but this amount of blood from the mouth probably was a more disturbing image than bruises and random cuts.

His rings flickered again.

Tucker swallowed hard. “We’ve gotta… Um. Somewhere to transform. Yeah.”

“Alley,” said Sam, pushing.

Danny let go of his transformation as soon as he was out of sight, and leaned against Tucker. He was so incredibly tired. He coughed, lightly, and more blood dribbled from his mouth.

“Oh, gross,” complained Tucker. “Are you, ah, jeeze, you’re not okay.”

No joke.

“Frostbite,” said Sam. “Danny, you up to- What am I saying, of course you’re not. Tucker, you’re going to have to drive.”

“Uh,” started Tucker.

“Since I’m going to be dealing with first aid stuff.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, I can drive.”

Danny wheezed as Tucker made another wrong turn and almost plowed them into a half-melted wall. Sure, the Speeder could phase through just about anything here, but that ‘just about’ was a significant concern.

Plus, going too far that way would put a lot of extra time on their journey. Like. A lot. Some kind of fourth spacial dimension nonsense.

“Sorry!” said Tucker. “Did your parents update the controls or something?”

They had, but Danny couldn’t exactly explain how at the moment. He shrugged.

Eventually, they did arrive at the Far Frozen. The yetis took one look at Danny’s pale face and the blood dripping down his chin and rushed him away to their hospital. Frostbite arrived, and the next hour or so was a whirlwind of tests and scans, particularly of his neck and throat.

They… looked worried. Which made Danny worried.

They gave him good painkillers, though, and lying on the ice bed did wonders for his tension.

Frostbite came back. “Great One,” said Frostbite. He settled himself, fur shifting. “Your Wail is an amazing power. From our scans of your core, it looks like you are also going to develop other vocal powers.” He paused. The silence stretched long and deep. Normally, Danny would have tried to fill it. “But,” said Frostbite, finally, “those powers are not compatible with your human vocal cords. Using them damages your human vocal cords.”

Danny nodded.

“Your ghost half will replace them,” said Frostbite, “but they… they would not be at all the same.”

Danny tilted his head.

“You are probably confused, because you speak in your ghost form, but the structures are very different. You… You would be unlikely to be able to communicate in a way humans would understand, without significant practice. Not while you were in your human form.”

That… didn’t make sense. He communicated with people now. Frostbite and the other ghosts communicated just fine.

“It’s just the type of ghost you are,” said Frostbite. “You are… powerful, Great One, bound to a powerful and painful path. I am sorry for that.”

There was something so pained and apologetic in Frostbite’s tone that Danny started shaking his head. He hardly knew what he was saying, and he still couldn’t help but reject it.

“I am sorry, Great One,” said Frostbite, “but if you keep using your Ghostly Wail, your human half will become mute.”

Frostbite knew, then, just like Danny knew. Danny wouldn’t be able to stop using his wail. Not while people were in danger. He couldn’t abandon people he could save.

Tears collected in the corners of his eyes.

It made him want to scream.

(While he still could.)

#danny phantom #ectoberhaunt trick #ectoberhaunt 2021 #ectober 2021 #ectober #fic #fanfic #ectober day 2: scream

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halstudandruz · 4 years ago

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Research Purposes ~ Part 3

*Gif: Not mine; credit to @thompsonconnors

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader/ Adam Ruzek x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happened after Adam catches you and Jay? Part 1 (18+) here /// Part 2 here

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I used some dialogue from S6E10, but the rest of the episode doesn’t pertain

A/N 2: Wouldn’t you all be pissed if I ended up putting the reader with Ruzek 😂

You and Jay were on his couch silently eating pizza and watching Hulu. Not having said very many words to each other in the last two hours.

“I didn’t want him to find out that way.” You eventually broke the silence. Jay reached for the remote pausing the show to turn and face you as you sat up away from where you were cuddled into his side. “I mean I wasn’t ecstatic about him sleeping with Hailey, but if he would’ve just told me and been upfront about it I think I could’ve handled it better.” You admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have slept with me in other words?” He joked making you chuckle.

“Oh I still would’ve done that.” You smiled.

“I think he just didn’t want to hurt you. You know Adam. That would have never been his intention.” Jay replied.

“Well no I don’t think he did it on purpose, but I just turned around and did the same thing to him. What if he thinks it was out of spite?” You sighed.

“You don’t have any obligations to each other any more, [Y/N].” Jay shook his head.

“I know it’s hard for you to understand, and it’s hard for me to explain to be honest. You have to remember we were engaged. It wasn’t some fling. Our relationship was serious. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to have a family with him, and when it ended it hurt like hell. I know I don’t have any obligation to him, but in order to see him everyday. Work with him everyday. There has to be a different kind of respect, a different kind of… regard for each other than we have with everyone else or it won’t work.” You tried to explain.

“Then why didn’t you just tell him about us?” Jay finally asked.

“Because I don’t even know what’s going on here.” You laughed, “I mean are we just fucking? Cause if that’s the case we should be doing a lot more of it.” You pointed out, reminding him how more and more nights have ended in just a cuddle session in his bed.

“You know I’m not good with emotions and saying how I feel, [Y/N].” He sighed, “I honestly didn’t expect for this to happen. One night of fun turned into wanting you here every night. Ya know? Regardless of whether it ended in us sleeping together or you just... in my arms.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Jay, if they go up in flames and Hailey comes running to you where does that leave me?” You eventually asked the question that had been pegging you for the last few weeks.

“You know that’s not fair to ask me when I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“You don’t think I know that?” You questioned, head falling into your hands, “I don’t know, Jay. Okay? I-I don’t know!”

“What are you saying?” He pushed.

“I’m saying maybe it shouldn’t be this hard.” You shook your head, emotions running through you, tense silence falling between you two again. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, leaning your head against the back of the couch.

“Alright come on let’s go to bed.” He stood up turning the tv off and moving to clean your plates up.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” You asked, biting at your lip and he turned to give you an incredulous look.

“Why would you think I would want that? You know I sleep better with you beside me.” He replied making you smile, body feeling just a little bit lighter.

“Yeah me too.” You agreed, helping him clean a little before going through your bedtime routines comfortably. Sliding naturally into his body once you laid down.

“Goodnight, baby.” Jay whispered into your hair laying a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight.” You said, returning a light kiss onto his chest, nuzzling further into his arms.

“Come on [Y/N] you gotta get up.” Jay tried to wake you with soft kisses across your neck and shoulder. Groaning you didn’t move, “I promise I let you sleep as long as possible.”

“Can we just get my car registered for a spot already?” You whined.

“You’re the one that said that was and I quote “testing our luck and a waste of money.”” He teased.

“I will give my life savings for ten more minutes of sleep.” You replied, sinking further back into Jay’s warm chest.

“No, no, no!” He lectured rolling away from you.

“Ugh, fine.” You grumbled pulling yourself out of his bed turning to see him lying in only his boxers, “Are you trying to provoke me?” You gestured to his body causing him to chuckle.

“If I wanted to provoke you I could do a hell of a lot better than this.” He smirked, “Plus I already got my own shower this morning so no go.” He shooed you away getting up to riffle through his dresser. Rolling your eyes you trudged to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The ride to the district was filled with a comfortable silence, the tension from the night before gone. He put his truck in park after pulling up behind your car.

“Just so you know I’m gonna stay at my place tonight.” You informed him, reaching for the door handle.

“What? Why?” He practically whined, but a nervous tone seeped in as well.

“Because I see you all day everyday and I would like to binge a carton of ice cream without your judging eyes on me the entire time.” You joked.

“I do not judge you.” He defended.

“Uh huh of course not babe. See you in a few.” You leaned over to give him a quick kiss before climbing out of the truck.

When you got to the district Trudy whistled to you summoning you over. You stood in front of it, hands clasped together on her desk. “Goodmorning.” You stated cautiously.

“Wanna tell me why rebel without a cause looks like someone pissed in his coffee this morning?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“No, I do not.” You replied.

“Well then just a friendly warning to step cautiously today.” She looked back down at her desk nodding her head towards the steps.

“Yeah..thanks Sarge.” You sighed moving to buzz in. You could feel the edginess when you entered the bullpen, but you couldn’t tell who else had noticed it. “Goodmorning.” You mumbled passing everyone on the way to your desk. Luckily everyone was able to work normally despite the obvious agitation in Adam’s demeanor, but per Platt’s advice you stayed out of his way as much as possible.

“Alright so we do it the old-fashioned way. Farm it off. Every beat cop and CTA worker, get every gang and tact unit across the city. If someone knows this guy, that picture’s gonna be enough to spark it. Ruzek, you run it past Mark.” Hank ordered before moving back into his office. Everyone nodded moving towards Jay’s desk to make plans. Adam moved off on his own and out of the corner of your eye you watched Hailey follow behind him. Sighing you looked back to Kevin making mental notes of the plan he was laying out to Jay.

“Alright let’s roll.” Kevin shrugged on his jacket when you heard yelling in the distance. The three of you exchanged confused glances before you easily picked up Adam’s voice.

“It’s Adam and Hailey. They’re downstairs.” You informed the two men, detouring your route to hurrying down the steps, their voices only getting louder as you made your way towards them.

“I’m not gonna talk about policing with you again!” Adam’s distinct voice carried.

“I care about you, I care about you and I-“ Hailey fought back, stopping to turn when she noticed the three of you enter the room.

“We can hear you guys in the stairwell. What the hell are you doing?” Jay asked, looking between the two. Hailey looking guilty and Adam standing at defense, restlessness clear in his frame, from more than just the conversation you were guessing.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.” Hailey cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“You cannot be having this conversation here. It’s not the time or place.” Jay warned, glancing back up the steps.

“Oh but it’s a perfectly fine place for you to stick your tongue down [Y/N]’s throat?” Adam bit back and you watched Hailey’s eyes go wide flicking between all of you.

“What?” She asked and the look in her eyes at the information pinged a feeling of jealousy deep in your stomach.

“Oh yeah you didn’t know?” Adam took a step towards Jay, anger radiating off of him.

“Watch yourself. Who do you think you're talking to?” Jay straightened his body, jaw clenched.

“I’m not scared of you, Halstead. I’m not some rookie straight out of the academy anymore.” Adam pointed out.

“All of you, cool it.” Kevin whispered harshly stepping between the two men, ”unless you want Voight to find out whatever is going on here I suggest you all get back to what you were supposed to be doing.” He ordered. Adam threw you a cold glare before maneuvering around Kevin and heading up the stairs.

“We’re supposed to be out securing an ID.” Jay grumbled stalking out of the door, Hailey following behind slowly.

“To be a fly on the wall in that car.” Kevin winced looking back to you.

“Yeah.” You laughed dryly. Starting to walk towards the parking lot.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” He tried to reassure you once he slipped into the driver's seat, starting the engine. Kevin knew more of what was going on then anybody else did. You and him had been partners in crime since your first day at the district and even before that in the academy. Your partnership was comfortable and he knew you better than most people. You had each other’s backs always, and even though he was best friends with Adam, who had without a doubt been chirping in his ear about his discovery the night prior, Kevin always remained neutral. So, you knew he would lay it straight for you. He found out about you and Jay the Monday after it had happened. You were pretty good at hiding stuff, but not with him. He could read you like a book.

“This is such a fucking mess.” You huffed watching out the window.

“Well I’m certainly not going to tell you you’re wrong there.” He agreed blatantly, “You should’ve been more careful.”

“You don’t think I know that, Kev? But it’s done now. He knows and I have to find a way to deal with it. I don’t even understand why he’s so mad. He’s doing the same thing with her, and I didn’t act like a jealous teenager when I found out. What he just did was unnecessary.” You sighed heavily knowing that there was more to the story. “I know he’s going through more than just this. I can tell this case is getting to him and he’s struggling and honestly it kills me that I can’t be there for him. It kills me every time I can’t help him through it. I miss him and what we had, but maybe it is for the best. But.. I don’t fucking know! How am I supposed to know?” You slammed a fist against the dashboard and Kevin didn’t even flinch. Adam was impulsive and had a short fuse, but what had happened a few minutes prior was not something Adam would do on a normal day.

“So, what are going to do about it?” Kevin asked looking over at you expectantly, but all that came was silence. You didn’t know. Did Adam still want to be with you? Was that why he was so angry or was it just a lingering reaction? If he was jealous, if this thing between you the two of you was still a possibility then what? Plus Hailey knew now. What if that pushed her in a direction you didn’t want her to go? Maybe it opened her eyes. Maybe she was confessing her feelings to Jay right now in his truck and that scared you. An uncomfortable selfish feeling radiated through your body at the thought. The unknown was starting to terrify you. The possibilities, the factors, all of it was too much and you weren’t sure how it was going to play out.

You had finished the case getting out of the district at a decent time that day. Which you were glad for. The room was starting to feel too small. You needed space to breathe and room to think. Which is exactly what you did. For hours until you came to a conclusion. You loved both of them, but in the end you knew who you wanted, who you needed.

You couldn’t keep dragging them around like this. Dragging yourself around like this. You were going to figure it out and you were going to face it head on. Walking up to his door your heart was racing. You had already made up your mind, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared to actually face it. Taking a deep breath your knuckles lightly rapped the door. How were you supposed to tell someone you loved you didn’t want to be with them? Shifting on your feet you couldn’t help, but chew on your lip, anxiety only heightening when the door swung open.

“We need to talk.”

All Taglist:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3 @wanniiieeee

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda @sofferderynnp

Taglist for series: @miranda0102 @5sos-imagine @5hundreddaysofsummer @a-f-f-a-n-c-u-l-o

#jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #Chicago pd #one chicago #adam ruzekxreader #adam ruzek x reader #adam ruzek imagine #Adam ruzek

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littleoddwriter · 3 years ago

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Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

#murder tw #vampire #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader fic #reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction

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liminalbookshop · 2 years ago

Text

Workflow Tips for Writing

sooo I’m working on a writing project but since I’ve done a lot of project management for creative teams in classrooms and I have pretty severe executive function issues (ADHD) so I thought I could provide some Workflow tips rather than specific writing tips.

0. ***STARTING is it’s own skill!*** Have an empty word document open on your desktop. Or a new page open in your notebook open on your desk. Use your notepad or an app like Bear, Ulysses or Scrivner (all of these can be opened on your computer and phone.)

Challenge yourself to write for 30 seconds to a minute everyday. It can be anything. Sometimes I just write out two characters discussing who needs to pick up laundry. Sometimes I write out “I don’t wanna write.” for five minutes straight. Doesn’t matter.

You’re building the muscle of “Showing Up”.

***Starting is the most difficult and important habit to establish. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. It is completely different from every other skill.

1. There’s a difference between Brainstorming and Drafting

Brainstorming = Pinterest, Image, Searches, Sketching, Quick Scenes, talking into a recorder, Whatever

Drafting = Writing or Drawing your Scene

Know when you’re DRAFTING as opposed to BRAINSTORMING. You might be very good at brainstorming from 1 am to 4 am, respect that. You might have an idea (brainstorm) while working a draft, put it on a page titled “Brainstorm/Cool ideas!” and revisit it. You can switch--- just recognize that you’re switching.

Sometimes you’re not getting any new ideas - don’t trip --- just draft.

2. The only job of a first draft is to exist. Memorize this. Please make it shitty. The point is to get it out of your head and stop using your brain as a storage receptacle. Your brain is not a shelf ---- it’s a desk. You need it clear.

3. You need to get through the whole process. Take a full lap. Eventually you will figure out the end of your story. Practice paraphrasing from start to finish. As you think of new scenes you will realize what has been missing from earlier ones. You won’t fill those holes until you finish that lap.

Brainstorm -> Draft -> Launch/Steep -> Edit/Rewrite.

You can’t get good at editing if you never finish a draft of a scene

You can’t get good at drafting if you only brainstorm

Sometimes we keep doing something because we feel like once we stop we can never come back.

But we can-- it’s a cycle.

Only doing one part of the cycle is like skipping “Leg Day”--- it shows.

4. Let it sit or ‘steep’

Leave the scene alone for a few days or a month. When you go back to it you can see weird holes that you missed. I usually do this for scenes rather than full stories.

5. Rewrite over editing.

It’s best that you just open a new page right next to the old one and retype. You will naturally self-edit as you go. When you rewrite you can lean in on your instinct rather than working within the grammatical confines of your earlier draft. Pretty much every writer recommends this from James Baldwin to whoever. Just do it.

5.a. If you hate the scene re-write from memory. You’re only gonna write what’s important. Or you’ll catch what you missed.

5.b. Re-read a scene from a book you like then immediately rewrite your scene. For some reason tones and methods from books will stick in your brain like a sweet drink in the back of your tongue. Usually I’d say worrying about copying but honestly no matter how you try you’re not going to be able to write the scene the way another writer could unless you’re stealing phrases outright. No one can write like you. You can’t write like anyone else.

You probably gotta cut it out. Less is more. Readers usually like less words and less double negatives. (This list of tips is exempt lol)

6. You won’t write your story in order. Don’t expect to. Writing is mostly seeing a cool scene and then doing everything in your ability to get the reader to it.

7. Because you won’t write your story in order you can use one of these to indicate you’re jumping scenes...

“something happens”

“Unfinished dialogue with an open/missing quotation mark

line break, “---”, line break

line break, “idk”, line break

double/triple break line

There’s no need to even take you hands off the keyboard. Just use a way to indicate within lines that you’re jumping scenes

8. Learn to paraphrase your story from start to finish. The more times you cycle through your story the easier it will be to find hiccups and holes. You cannot pre-empt or prepare the reader for scenes that you haven’t realized are going to happen.

8.a. Try pitching your scene. Ask a trustworthy friend, patient family member if you can pitch a scene to them, let them ask you obvious questions. Practice answering them and learn what’s not as obvious as you thought and how to communicate it quickly. This is helps make ideas seaworthy. Stories can’t only be prose.

If you don’t have anyone use voice recorder app and listen back.

8.b. Read your shit aloud. Even if you’re exceptionally bad at reading aloud. You’ll get a better sense of flow and tone when you do. You will get better at this. It will become more bearable.

8. An Act 3 problem is an Act 1 problem.

Same for lines. If you’re having a problem put it in [brackets] and head back ten lines, or three paragraphs and try it again.

9. Mapping out your plot IS work. Make sure to give yourself credit. There’s a reason that people say Jack Kerouac’s “The Road” is just typing.

10. Establish tone and POV in your character sheet. I make all of my characters respond to the same question. “Can you tell me the story Little Red Riding Hood?” Some of them do. Some of them muddle it. Others forget it outright or tangent.

11. Don’t Break The Chain. Get a Calendar and a Sharpie. X out your days.

We need ways to visualize our progress. Sometimes writing requires a lot of front-loading and esoteric nonsense. It helps to just [x] out a calendar space every day you do something for your book. Try not to break that chain.

These tips are compiled from years of me helping an endless flow of groups working on creative projects. I find that a lot of the issues people have with creative projects aren’t issues of skill but issues of workflow. I hope these can help you.

#writing tips #writing help #refashion #tips

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

Training Day

AMHL – Masterlist

WARNINGS: PTSD, domestic violence & abuse, panic attack, anxiety

“I feel like you’re torturing me now,” Y/N groaned as she put the bar back down on the bench press.

Dick chuckled. “You gotta gain some strength before I teach you, otherwise you’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“You callin’ me fat, Grayson?”

His eyes grew three sizes and his jaw dropped in shock. “No, no, no, no, no. I would never!”

Then he jumped into a tangent about how beautiful he was and he loved her for how she looked and never wanted her to change, unless that’s what she wanted. And it went on and on and on.

Y/N finally took pity on him and started laughing.

“Dick, I’m just fucking with you.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That was cruel.”

But she only laughed more.

“10 pushups for that,” he demanded.

Her jaw dropped. “Noooo!”

“Yeah. Come on.”

She did as he instructed, knowing she did kind of deserve it.

Afterward, he led her to the training mats. They had done weight training for about 30 minutes or so, and Dick insisted that was going to be a big part of all this. He was right: some of the self-defense moves would only hurt her if she didn’t prep her body.

But when Dick turned to find Y/N standing at the ready on the other side, his tough-love coaching style disappeared.

She looked so small and fragile, clearly nervous for the actual fight training.

Sometimes Dick forgot that Y/N wasn’t like his family or his teammates. She didn’t graduate from field work to sitting behind a computer. Hacking and computer science was her first and only exposure to this life.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing. You just…look nervous.”

“I am,” she admitted.

With that, Dick walked across the mat and planted a kiss on her lips.

He stepped back with a smile, “Ready?”

She beamed at him and nodded.

For the next half hour or so, Dick taught Y/N all the basics of self defense: how to get out of holds, where to hit an attacker for the most impact, and how to prevent herself from getting injured in the process.

“Things are going to be quicker in real life. You’re going to have to get over the feeling of panic and calm yourself down enough to properly react,” Dick explained.

Y/N nodded with her back to him as she returned to her spot on the other side of the training mats.

But she didn’t reach it before Dick surprised her with a chokehold from behind her.

Before now, Dick had been walking her through moves step by step. But he clearly was trying to prove the point that she would most likely not be expecting these attacks. And he wanted her to get used to reacting to the surprise of it all.

Except…Dick didn’t think this training tactic completely through.

Dick hadn’t taken into account that his student and girlfriend was also a victim of domestic violence.

Since she first escaped from underneath her parents’ roof, Y/N’s had improved a lot when it came to treating and handling her PTSD.

It used to be so much worse.

Loud noises would throw her into panic attacks. People just lightly touching her without her expecting it made her jump feet away. Anytime she got a whiff of alcohol that smelled even a little bit similar to her father’s preferred brand could set her off.

Over the years, it got better.

Therapy helped. Dick helped – his whole family had helped.

But Y/N knew it would always be there, waiting inside her.

And in this moment, it decided to reveal itself once again.

Y/N’s vision blurred. All she could hear was her heartbeat making its way to her ears.

It wasn’t until her entire body was trembling that Dick realized something was wrong.

He let go.

But before he even completely let go, Y/N dodged away so quickly that she almost tripped over her own feet.

She whipped around, eyes so wide. Like a deer facing a hunter, fully aware it was about to be slaughtered.

And Dick realized how much he just fucked up.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Y/N slowly lowered herself to the ground, not trusting that her knees to not give out at any moment.

“Y/N,” Dick whispered desperately.

It was hearing how sorry he was already that made Y/N’s eyes fill with tears.

As soon as she was shakily lowered to the ground, she hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in them.

“Can we stop?” She begged, as if she had no choice and Dick had complete control.

Her voice and sob was muffled by her knees.

“Yes, we’re stopping,” Dick immediately answered with a clear voice. "You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

But Y/N only nodded, not helping to convince Dick that his words comforted her in the slightest.

Her entire body was trembling as she continued to squeeze her knees as tightly as she could.

Dick kneeled but didn’t move any closer to her.

“Can I…Please…Can I touch you?” He whispered.

But she shook her head.

Not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt like she had no control over her body right now. And she had no idea how it was going to react to being touched again.

And she was already mortified and confused and terrified.

“OK,” Dick sighed as he lowered himself to the mat as well. “I’m just going to sit here. OK? I’m not going to get anywhere near you.”

Y/N didn’t respond. But her body was still clearly trembling.

“Can you just breath for me?” Dick asked softly. "Deep breaths in, slow breaths out.”

She still doesn’t respond. But he can hear her trying to do as he asked.

Dick didn’t think he should say any more, worried that his talking was just making the whole situation worse. But then he remembered a tactic Bruce had taught him to console victims who were going into shock or scared of them.

“Can you count backwards from 100 with me?” He then asked.

“What?” She sputtered out, confusedly.

But it was good that she was clearly able to even process that he was talking to her.

“Countdown from 100,” he repeated gently. “100, 99, 98,” he started.

She eventually joined in.

When they reached 1, Y/N went quiet again.

It seemed to have worked.

After a few minutes, Y/N finally stood up.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” she whispered quickly, but it was so quiet that Dick almost didn’t catch it.

The next second, she rushed out of the cave.

Now that her PTSD had calmed down, she was clearly embarrassed.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dick called after her in a panic and jogged after her.

When they got to the main part of the manor and Y/N reached the stairs to go to the second floor, she had flown past a very confused and concerned Bruce Wayne.

Dick paused when Y/N sprinted up the stairs with her eyes blood shot and cheeks tear stained.

“What did you do, Dick?” Bruce grunted, not even considering that it could also possibly be Y/N’s fault.

Dick sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I was showing her some self-defense…and I…I trigged her PTSD and she had a panic attack.”

“You need to be more careful,” Bruce reprimanded.

“I know, I know. It was stupid.” Dick already knew he messed up.

Bruce remained disappointed by Dick’s mistake.

“I’m going to go check on her,” Dick mumbled and passed Bruce with his head hung.

Dick returned to his childhood room, the one they always stayed in while visiting.

The shower was already running.

He figured he should give her some time to herself and not rush into the bathroom.

Y/N was most likely crying and wanted to hide it from him. Even though she already realized Dick would know that’s exactly what she was doing.

10 minutes later, Y/N came out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam and a white towel wrapped tightly around her.

Dick’s heart broke even more when he saw her red, bloodshot eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, desperate for her forgiveness.

He should’ve realized that certain things in typical self-defense training could trigger her.

Bruce had taught him to always expect the unexpected. And Y/N’s PTSD should’ve be expected while he put her under such a tense and rigorous circumstance.

Y/N hung her head in shame. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dick.”

Her voice was so small, so vulnerable. Dick had to hold his breath to hear it.

“Y/N, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he insisted and he slowly stood up from the edge of the bed.

Dick wanted to go to her, but he was so scared of making things worse.

“Will you please come here?” He finally asked in a whisper.

She practically tiptoed to her boyfriend, while she held her towel tightly to her body as if it were some kind of armor.

As soon as Y/N was a few inches away, Dick gently tugged her onto his lap.

He was a very tactile man, and not being able to give her physical comfort was slowly killing him. And he felt utterly useless to help her.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed or sorry. I knew better than to surprise you like that. I was an idiot. What happened was my fault, OK?”

She nodded slowly.

Eventually his words would get through to her.

“Can you still train me?”

Y/N finally shocked Dick with her question.

“Of course, Y/N. Let’s just take it slower next time. I promise to be more careful.”

She nodded quickly, fully believing him and trusting him.

Now he put his arms around her, holding her to him tightly.

Dick had always been protective over her. But when she showed signs of being triggered, he went full mama bear on her. But that was also Dick as a person. He was so caring of everyone in his life. He was a big brother, a leader, a stand-in father sometimes even.

But it often led to Y/N’s guilt when Dick felt the need to treat her like a piece of glass. But sometimes…she was. And that was OK.

“Wanna get to sleep?” He muttered into her hair.

She nodded again.

Dick carefully moved her from his lap and placed her on the bed before he stood.

Y/N watched with love in her eyes as Dick moved around the room and grabbed some of his clothes to give to her to sleep in.

What had she done to deserve him?

“I’ll give you a minute,” Dick told her as he handed the clothes to her.

Not that he hadn’t seen her naked hundreds of times before. He was just treading carefully now.

“Want some tea?” He asked as he walked to the door.

“Sure,” she agreed quietly.

When Dick returned with two cups of tea, Y/N was already underneath the covers of their bed.

Dick watched Y/N as she took her first sip.

“You want to talk about it?” He was ever so careful in his tone, making sure it was obvious that Y/N didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.

“There’s not much to tell,” she admitted with a shrug.

“That’s alright though.”

Y/N sighed. “As fucked up as it sounds, I sometimes forget about all the things he used to do to me.”

She chuckled darkly, “Guess that’s repression for ya.”

Dick winced slightly.

“He used to grab me by the throat. Constantly. Because he hated whenever I tried to talk back or fight him with words. So he made sure I couldn’t talk at all. It was all about control.”

Despite being trigged and having a panic attack earlier, Y/N talked about her tragic past without any emotion, and it sounded so casually. She was numb to the memories, but the scars manifested themselves in different ways now – and that was proven today.

Y/N looked up when Dick hadn’t said anything.

She was taken aback by how he looked as if he was going to be sick.

“I’m fine, Dick. Really.” She insisted as she cupped his cheek.

It hurt Dick to hear these things more than it hurt Y/N now.

“You were dealing with your past all by yourself long before you met me,” Dick answered. “But I just need you to know I’m never going to let anything like that ever happen to you again.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Even if – fuck – even if something happened between us, and we weren’t together…I’d still keep you safe. Do you understand?”

Y/N smiled.

Oh, Dick. His gentleness never stopped amazing her.

“I know that, Dick. I’ve always known that.”

Before he could answer, she added, “Now enough talking. Can you just cuddle me now?”

Dick laughed at her demanding and teasing tone.

“Get over here,” he pulled her into his chest.

Soon his grasp was so soothing to Y/N’s body that she reached the ultimate level of relaxation, especially after being drained from her earlier panic.

Y/N felt Dick kiss the top of her head before she fell asleep in his arms.

–––––––––––––––––––

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#AMHL bonus content #all ment have limits #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #batman universe #dc

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sakuatsutingz · 4 years ago

Note

Sorry for being specific but Can I request Atsumu and Kageyama with a fem!crush who is the top female highschool volleyball player and is the only female invited to the National youth training camp and basically they were paired together for training or something? Thank youuuuuu 💞

hand in marriage anon ?? also the trainings mentioned below were from my own experience in vb training camp !! enjoy bbies <3 aLSO ATSUMUS PART GOT SELF INDULGENT SORRY YALL - jamie

atsumu & kageyama with a crush who was invited to the youth training camp

masterlist here request or talk to us here

atsumu

before we start can we appreciate the photo of tsumu like bc THATS MY MAN -jamie

you were a second year volleyball player in itachiyamas girl vbc

and it just so happened you were the top highschool female ace and server in all of japan !!

but atsumu’s never heard of u because he was too focused on his own competitors

and so when you walked through the doors of the gym, he was confused

everyone was confused

why is a female here ?? in a training outfit ??

answer was the female’s youth training camp was canceled due to the lack of eligible female players

and it just so happened you were the only one eligible for a youth training camp so you were redirected to the male’s youth camp

and thus u were the only female invited to the camp

searches how to be a y/n ...

let’s just say you were friends with sakusa and komori and they were the only ones in the camp informed of you being a part of it

and when you entered komori jogged up to you with a wave and greets u !! <3

“hello everyone !! im l/n y/n, i look forward to training with you all !!” “wAHH A GIRL IS WITH US ??” “WE GOTTA IMPRESS HER GUYS HOLD UP”

when atsumu saw u something inside him just felt good ??

like why does he suddenly feel like the world got just a bit brighter whenever he sees you

inwardly panics in jealousy when he sees u with sakusa and komori during lunch

he assumes you must be rlly good in vball because how else would one girl out of all be invited to a national camp meant for boys ??

the first time you guys talked was basically in a practice match

you were the temporary captain of your team and he was the temporary captain of the other team

before the match started you both shook hands like the good captains u both are lowkey wheezing abt how that was a fat lie

“let’s have a good match now, miya !” “u-uh, yeah- same for yer’ team.”

he wasnt his usually flirty self around you BYEHAHHABDBF

he was trying his hardest to actually look smooth and talk to you

but he fails 99% of the time and his crush for you just grows even more

but on the last day of training, the serving practices basically required a partner on the opposite side of the net

your mental list of desired partners slowly narrowed as they all got their own parters, leaving atsumu for you to ask

when you went up to him with a smile he short circuited

pls help him he’s malfunctioning

“oi, miya, do you wanna be my partner ?” “yeah, yeah.”

DONT BE FOOLED BY HIS OUTER SELF HES LITERALLY DYING INSIDE

as the practices started he didn’t know what this boy has gotten himself into

atsumu is the top male highschool server

and he just so didn’t know his own partner was also the top female highschool server so it turned into a competition REAL QUICK

god damn this boy needs to read the volleyball magazines more ..

“hA YOU WERENT ABLE TO RECEIVE THAT BEAT THAT LOSER” “iTS JUST A FLUKE ILL BEAT’CHA JUST YA WAIT”

you guys turned into best friends real quick bye

sorry not sorry komori

after a long day, you were already in the bus station abt to go home

it was basically atsumu’s last chance to actually talk to you before he has only luck to see you again

so he went up to you in the bus stop like the smooth boy he is

spoiler, he wasnt. he looked real awkward tryna sit next to you

you were just scrolling on your phone until he asked u out which made u choke on AIR

like dude r u fr ??

“so um, y/n.” “yeah ?” “go out with me.”

he’s literally a blushing mess good bye

you smile bc u were literally hoping he would ask u out before u went home

you kiss him on the cheek and say yes <33

HOW TO GET AN ATSUMU MIYA IN YOUR LIFE ??????? THIS IS FUCKINMG UNFAIR

a bonus “why do you have l/n as your phone wallpaper, ‘tsumu ??” “SHUT UP ‘SAMU”

kageyama

okay so youre a first year and still the top ace and server in highschool ykyk

but this time you were on shiratorizawa’s girl vbc !!

you got invited to the camp cause they needed another person for an even number but couldn't find a male

so you got invited

kageyama would probably know who you are already

he’s been to one of your games in the nationals and that’s where his crush started <33

like he seemed to pay much more attention when it was your turn to serve !!

he wasn’t exactly oblivious about his own crush on you but he is definitely confused on why does he look at you like you’re the only player on court

it was kinda obvious so when hinata pointed it out to him it just clicked

oh shit ,, he does have a crush on y/n l/n

literally panics on what to do with it but honestly he doesn’t see you much unless you guys are on the same court

which is exactly what happened in the national youth training camp because you guys are ON THE SAME COURT

he got really flustered about it, thinking that he was to spend the next few days with you

when you get partnered together he got very quiet at first

ya'll got partnered because kageyama didn't want to ask anyone so the coaches put you together

"why did it have to be her?" "she's going to find out ,,"

very shy around you at first

but eventually once you two get comfy he becomes more like his usual self

he's a lot more caring and observant when it comes to you

i mean a lot

he would offer you to join his table during lunch

your both very good servers, so you help each other practice serves

you would need to be the one to ask him out

probably would be second to last day of camp or the last day

"hey kags? would you wanna meet up after the camp ends? like a date or something."

boy would malfunction right then and there

it would take him a moment, but would eventually accept <33

doesnt talk about it when he gets back to karasuno

but the others on the team can just s e e somethings different

he seemed happier and more motivated then usual

we all know hinatas gonna spill about his crush on u tho just saying

cause u both made a promise to see each other at nationals finals !!

and he wanted to keep that promise <33

a bonus “kageyama-kun, was that l/n from shiratorizawa you were talking to ?” “wAIT WHAT I DONT KNOW HER UM” “but you even hugged her ..”

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petals42 · 4 years ago

Text

been so long and now...

Alright, not writing the fic but this is the fic I want to read for julie and the phantoms (okay updated note: I wrote it basically). Going to try to keep this quick (LOL it’s 7k). We’re starting after season 1 here.

[7k, Reggie-centric, Julie POV, child abuse mention, Ray is a good dad.]

Alright, the boys can now touch Julie (sometimes) and can still be seen when playing music, but other than that, it’s not super clear how much actually changes. And after that day in the garage, life seems to even out a bit. Which means Alex is off looking for Willie and Luke and Julie are spending a lot more time writing music together (and okay, maybe that’s new but if both of them ignore it, it's fine) and Reggie is back to hanging out with Ray.

Ray can’t hear him or see him and the conversations are by necessity very one sided. Either Reggie filling Ray in on his day slash his ideas on ghosthood or Ray talking to himself/the computer but somehow it becomes fairly commonplace for Julie to walk downstairs and find her dad talking to (around?) her dead teenage bandmate. And there are times, sure, where she is like is this weird?? Should i say something about this??? But Reggie is kind of being left on his own a lot and she never really wanted to listen to her dad mutter about cameras and if that’s how Reggie wants to fill his days then… well that’s not her business. Neither party seems to mind. Probably because her dad doesn’t actually know.

Of course, the Julie-magic power does eventually start working more and more and then Carlos knows they are ghosts and then her dad hears them talking in Julie’s room when Luke accidentally starts humming and then catches a glimpse of them in garage when there’s no lights on so he doesn’t see how the hologram is working and--

“It’s time to tell him, I think,” Julie says to the boys and Luke nods and looks excited and Alex twists his hands around his drumsticks the way he does when he is a little anxious (but mostly okay) and when Julie glances over at Reggie, she expects that large megawatt smile that he directs at Flynn or Carlos but instead, he looks even more uncertain than Alex.

“I dunno,” he says, one shoulder raised. “I feel like we have an okay system?”

His concerns get drowned out by Luke and Alex and Julie herself pointing out that her dad is in photography, at some point he is going to realize that this hologram technology does not obey the laws of physics and/or light, plus he keeps almost seeing them just around his house and…

They play a song to tell her dad and lately, the boys have been able to be seen longer and longer, especially when they are just in the studio and don’t officially bow so once her dad gets over the initial shock (which, admittedly, takes him a little longer than Flynn or Carlos), there are introductions and--

Julie finds herself glancing at Reggie the whole time. Waiting for him to bound forward and say that actually he knows all about Ray and actually they’ve hung out quite a bit and actually, it was him that’s been slowly doing the puzzle with Ray in the corner room and maybe the other boys do too because there are a lot more awkward pauses that she thought there would be but Luke seems to realize it halfway through so suddenly he is taking the lead (and maybe trying to impress her father like omg what???) and so it kind of gets forgotten. (especially afterwards, in her room, when her dad lowkey tries to grill her about her relationship with these boys and she doesn’t have good answers and ugggggh maybe they should’ve stayed holograms).

Anyway, things are still mostly normal after that. The boys are not often seen or visible (except more and more to Flynn and sometimes Carlos) and so Reggie is often back to hanging around her dad and one time Julie does ask him “Do you let him know that you’re here?” and “Oh no,” Reggie says. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.” And Julie guesses that’s true, Reggie is normally chilling with her dad when he is editing photos so, alright. Again, she has lots of other things going on. There isn’t much point in digging into this.

Except then-- then the boys start being seen more and more around the whole house. It starts in the studio and then sort of spreads and it’s a weird new normal for sure, them still walking through walls whenever they want so you can’t forget they’re ghosts, but you sure can see them around a lot. And if Julie is around and can make them solid, they can eat and so it become a not rare occurrence to have the boys come eat dinner 2ish times a week or at least try to (Julie’s “powers” only work about a fourth of the time, to be honest, but they can be seen so they usually hang around.)

And right around when that becomes common place, suddenly Reggie stops hanging out with Ray.

I mean, it’s not something that Julie notices right away but suddenly Reggie is around the studio a lot more and sometimes she assumes he is in the house only to find out he has been hanging by the beach or with Alex and Willie and there’s no real reason for worry but it sort of… lurks in the back of Julie’s mind. A weird sense that something isn’t quite right there, that Reggie used to love hanging around her dad and giving her dad full reports of their days and, okay, maybe it was weird but still… it bothered her. Now that it was gone.

And then, her dad asks her about it.

Not directly, but he comes sort of frowning into her room, asking if the boys are okay, and “yeah, why?” Julie says and..

“Oh, I dunno,” her dad answers, looking over his shoulder and drumming his fingers against his thigh. “It just feels… I don’t know, the house feels empty? Like… sometimes I think there should be someone and-- you know what, nevermind. It’s probably in my head.”

“No, no,” Julie says because she’s lied to her dad enough. “You’re right. I mean, Reggie used to hang out in the house all the time.”

“Reggie,” her dad says. “The bassist. He did?”

“Yeah, he was probably… what you were sensing.” and Julie has an awful moment of wondering if her dad thought that presence around him was her mom and if Reggie being more busy with other things was like losing someone all over again and--

“That’s what that was!” her dad sounds happy. And relieved. “Sorry. Who. Who that was. I thought I was going crazy.”

“No,” Julie shakes her head. “He’s real. And he was around a lot.”

“Hm,” Ray says and turns to leave. Then turns. “You know… he’s still welcome, you know? Unless you guys are practicing more…”

“I’ll tell him,” Julie laughs. And then shoos her dad out because she has got to work on this chemistry homework and sometimes it sucks -- having three ghost bandmates who should be in high school but who never have to do anything and don’t even try to help her and--

*^*^*^

“Hey,” Julie says, plopping down next to Reggie on the couch. It’s a few days later but this is the first time they’ve been alone-- Luke and Alex, realizing they were solid enough to go eat and running for the kitchen, Reggie opting to stay behind.

“Hi, Jules!” Reggie says and he doesn’t seem any different. With her and the band, he talks just as much as always, big bright smile, whining about the need for a country song, laughing at all their mishaps.

“I have a question.”

“What’s up?” He twists to face her, giving her all his attention. He does that, she realizes. Focuses on her. All the boys do, to some extent, but with different energies. Reggie’s is the biggest, she thinks. Honest and open.

“So… I’ve sorta noticed that you haven’t been hanging out with my dad as much anymore?” Julie tries to keep her tone casual. She’s not accusing him. She’s just… curious.

“Oh,” Reggie says and his head tilts as if confused by her confusion. “Well, yeah.”

There’s a beat. Julie thinks Reggie is going to keep talking. Reggie does not. Reggie turns back to where he was tuning his bass. “Uh, why?” she finally asks.

Reggie frowns at her. “Well, he can see and hear us now,” he says, as if this is very obvious.

“So?”

“So like… I don’t want to bother him,” Reggie says. “He does a lot of work during the day. It was one thing when he couldn’t hear or see me but now you know… I’m annoying.”

It’s Julie’s turn to frown, even though Reggie is already looking down again. There’s something about the way he says it, I’m annoying that bothers her. He says it as if it is an obvious fact. As if everybody knows it. As if it’s true.

“You’re not annoying,” she says. “I don’t think you’re annoying.”

He blinks at her. “Well, no, you don’t,” he allows. “And Luke and Alex don’t. Most of the time.”

“And Flynn and Carlos,” she adds.

“Most of the time. But still, see, all kids. Teens,” Reggie says. “But old people… parents are different. You have to--”

He cuts himself off and for a moment, his hand grips the neck of his bass tightly and there is a tension in his shoulders and suddenly Julie thinks she maybe is in a little too deep here. She doesn’t want to upset him.

“You’re dad is really nice but he still… It’s different,” he says and he shoots another smile at her, but it’s tight and fake and he jumps up the moment Alex and Luke burst back into the studio.

“So close,” Alex mutters as they come back in. “I had the sandwich IN MY HANDS.”

“Dumb choice,” Luke says, mouth still clearly full of something. “You gotta just hit the snacks, my friend. Focus on what’s quick and easy.”

The boys all head for their instruments and the moment is passing, Julie knows, and she also knows she now has clues that maybe she should put together but she doesn’t have time and why couldn’t her powers last just a little longer this one time? But-

“You should still go hang out with him again,” she tells Reggie as Luke starts tuning up and Alex gets settled behind his drums. “He misses you.”

There’s no time for Reggie to ask any questions but his frown of confusion as she turns away says it all.

*^*^*^

It grows, this curiosity and she realizes she doesn’t know much about Reggie’s parents. Luke’s, she obviously knows very well and she knows the story very well and she has heard enough about Alex’s to know that they are not worth seeking out but Reggie’s…

She’s never even heard him mention them. Not even in all their conversations about Luke’s. And this is a sensitive topic for all the boys and she doesn’t know how much to push or even whether to push so--

“What were Reggie’s parents like?” she blurts one day. Luke startles and looks up at her and that’s fair as they had been in the middle of writing a song and there was no reason for her to ask.

“What?” Luke says and she gets to watch as he tries to switch his brain over from music-mode to conversation-mode.

“Reggie’s parents,” she repeats. “What were they like?”

And she knows she’s hit on something when Luke’s head goes down and his shoulders come up and “I dunno,” he says. “It’s… we didn’t hang out there that much.”

“But you must know something?” Julie presses. “Like… did they ever come to see you guys play?”

“No,” Luke says and he’s leaning further away, eyes cutting to the door. “Look, I--”

“Were they against him playing music?”

“Uh- I don’t… Why are you asking?”

The question forces Julie to pause. And she chews her bottom lips as she tries to figure out the answer. Why is she asking? What does she think? What does she actually need to know?

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just… he’s never even mentioned them.”

“Well, then… we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” Luke says and that’s fair, she knows it is, but she can’t help if she doesn’t have some information. And going to Luke was at least better than just googling.

“So there is something to talk about,” she says softly.

“No, I don’t… look,” Luke says and takes a breath. “Reggie never…. He never said anything about them, really. Not even when we were alive. He just… I don’t know. I told you, we never hung out at his house.”

“So you think they were…?” Julie lets the sentence dangle. Luke glares at her a little. Then takes another breath. Fiddles with something on his pants. Doesn’t speak. “You know I’m just trying to help, right?” Julie asks. “I just--”

“Reggie was really quiet,” Luke interrupts. “When we met him, I mean. He was… he was really shy.”

“Reggie?” Julie asks and she can’t help the disbelieving tone. That doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah,” Luke says. “He was a great bass player, obviously, and nice enough but… really quiet. He… didn’t even laugh really. He just hung back a lot and… it’s weird to think about. Now that I know him.”

“You think he was that way because of his parents?”

“I mean… I dunno. Maybe?” Luke shrugs. “The few times he met my parents, he was… really weird.”

“Weird?”

“Just… weird.”

Julie opens her mouth to ask more questions, to say that that answer wasn’t specific enough, but Luke finally meets her eyes and suddenly she knows that this conversation is going to end.

“Look, if you want to know more, you can probably ask him,” Luke says. “Or like… don’t. It’s not like it matters anymore now, right?”

And there’s a trace of bitterness in that and a trace of please stop and more than a trace of I am uncomfortable with this conversation and so Julie lets it go.

“Yeah,” she says, worried she pushed too hard. “Yeah, you’re right.”

*^*^*^

The clues are all there and Julie isn’t sure what they point to, so she tries to listen to Luke’s advice and remember that it doesn’t really matter. Reggie doesn’t have to see his parents again and it doesn’t matter and he continues to seem absolutely fine with the band. Fine and happy and--

“Helloooo?” she hears him call from the front door, just as she’s hitting the top of the stairs. She turns, a bit confused because the boys never bother announcing themselves but she opens her mouth to tell him she has to finish homework before rehearsal today and then closes it when she says that he is not looking at her at all, but towards the kitchen.

She walks down a few steps. Bends over so she can peer down and see what he’s looking at.

Her dad is sitting at the counter.

“Hello!” Reggie is louder this time, and then waves his arms a little bit for good measure and her dad doesn’t see him, she realizes, doesn’t even flinch at all the noise and the arm flailing and she is about to tell Ray that Reggie is there when suddenly, Reggie’s face bursts into a grin and, seemingly satisfied that he is undetectable, the teenager plops himself down in the stool next to Ray.

Julie watches as her dad continues muttering to himself for a minute and then he pauses, and shifts, and glances, and she doesn’t know if he caught a glimpse of Reggie or if he can just sense it but his mouth quirks into a slight smile and he talks more now, at maybe a higher volume, but still to himself and Reggie doesn’t seem to notice the change, so she leaves them to it.

Reggie is still there when she finally finishes her homework two hours later.

*^*^*^

It doesn’t really get that much better. Reggie still avoids the house when he is visible and, when she catches him with her dad, she somehow knows that he had made sure he was undetectable before risking it and he doesn’t talk as much now, not when he’s learning from conversations with Flynn and Carlos that sometimes it’s part way through a conversation that they are suddenly audible, but she hopes it’s a little bit nice, at least, that Reggie is there at least part of the time.

*^*^*^

They play a particularly good show and the boys stay visible for 5 straight days. Reggie avoids the house the whole time.

*^*^*^

It’s a Friday night when Julie finally gets her biggest clue. It’s a rare quiet Friday. They don’t have a gig all weekend so there’s no rehearsals and Carlos is home and the boys aren’t visible or audible to anyone but Julie so most of her time is spent laughing at what they say and then having to explain to her dad and brother and she thinks they are going to try to play a game, maybe like Clue? Something all the boys can play, though Luke is pushing for twister even though the boys can literally go through people so that doesn’t seem fair at all and--

Something (a ball) whizzes past her head as she and her dad are bent over trying to remember the Clue rules and then she jumps as there’s the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.

There’s a moment of stillness and then it makes sense. There’s a vase broken on the ground and a baseball rolling under the kitchen table and she turns to see Carlos, looking shocked, mouth already open to apologize.

“Carlos!” her dad says, standing and moving, doubtlessly to go get the broom. But there is glass everywhere and his voice comes out angry because this is not the first kitchen object Carlos has broken by a longshot. “How many times have I told you not to play--”

Things move very fast then.

Her dad is moving towards Carlos because that’s where the broom is and Carlos is standing still and looking down because he already knows he’s going to get in trouble and then just as suddenly, Carlos is sort of stumbling back because he’s been pulled back and Reggie is standing where Carlos just was.

Squarely between her dad and her brother.

“It was me,” Reggie says. And he sounds sort of breathless but also certain and he’s not moving from where he stands.

Carlos is still sort of gaping that he was just pulled back by a ghost and Julie can see the other two boys processing that fact, the fact that Reggie just managed to touch another person and Ray jerks to a stop because a full teenage boy has just popped into existence in front of him. So no one says anything.

“I threw the ball,” Reggie repeats. More firmly this time. A lie, Julie knows, because Reggie had been on the couch with Alex. Nowhere near where the ball had come from. “It was my fault.”

His voice is still firm and his eyes stay on Ray’s for a second before looking down and his hands tighten into firsts before going slack and he swallows and--

He’s scared, Julie realizes. Scared, but still.

“It was my fault. So--”

“Reggie!” Her dad exclaims and he’s beaming, she can already see it, and then without a thought to whether Reggie is still solid or not, her dad is throwing her arms around Reggie as if he is a long lost friend

(Which in a way, maybe he is)

Reggie stays solid and his arms are pinned to his side and Julie sees him stiffen, sees his face frown in confusion.

“You’re here!” Ray says, still grinning. He leans back and slaps Reggie on the arm. “And solid, I see. Thank goodness. Come, come help me on this puzzle. You’ve been slacking and I swear this dark spot near the left corner is driving me crazy and-- Oh, Carlos, go get the broom and clean this up. No throwing balls in the house! Honestly, you’d think after the last time-- Reggie, wait, whatever happened with that telenovella you guys were watching, you haven’t updated me in forever.”

And then her dad is dragging Reggie away, who still looks shell-shocked, still looks like he was expecting something different, and Julie hangs back, partly to help Carlos clean up, partly to enjoy hearing Reggie slowly start to stammer out answers to her dad’s many, many questions.

*^*^*^

“Oh shoot,” her dad says an hour later, when family puzzle night is brought to an end because the three boys have abruptly vanished from existence. He looks at where Reggie had been sitting (roughly). “Well, we’ll finish next time.”

*^*^*^

What happens next, Julie calls in her head, the Period of Cautious Testing.

She sees it play out.

Reggie comes into the house, waves hi to her, but doesn’t say anything and then he goes and sort of… lurks near her dad, watching carefully and if her dad seems to be in a good mood (which he is often, to be honest), Reggie will either say hello or obviously pull out a stool to make it clear he is there and--

“Are you free?” Reggie asks. Or “Do you mind?” or “Hey, can I--?”

He says it when Ray can hear him and writes it if there is pen and paper nearby and even when there’s not, he stays tense and ready to fly if he’s not wanted, but--

“Of course!” her dad says. “Sit down.” “Come look.” “Oh, Reggie, check this out--”

And Reggie stares and listens and there’s this smile he has, not his usual huge grin, but a smaller softer sort of wonderful-filled smile and he pays attention to her dad as if he might be quizzed on the information later, still starts out not talking as much but--

“Okay, well tell me about,” her dad says. “Oh, do you think--?” And “Wait, I want to hear what it was like to--”

*^*^*^

“Your dad is really nice,” Reggie tells her one day. He says it right as they are starting rehearsal and doesn’t really look at her when he says it, looks more somewhere over her left shoulder and he is basically running away towards his mic stand but still…

It makes her smile.

*^*^*^

“Come play with me,” Carlos asks her, throwing his ball in the air.

“Where’s dad?” Julie responds. This is usually her dad’s territory. Whatever talents she had in singing and music and sort of dancing do not translate into sports.

“With Reggie,” Carlos says, throwing the ball up, tilting his head up to watch as it comes down and catches it. “They are talking about… I don’t know. Something. He said he’d be out but you know how they get.”

Julie does. And it doesn’t bother her but..

“Are you mad?” She asks, just to be certain. Carlos had been the only son. Still is. But also… “That they are hanging out so much?” Her brother is still young. Her brother maybe doesn’t--

“No,” Carlos says. “Not like I want to learn about cameras at all.”

Julie laughs.That’s true. And her dad sure can ramble.

“Also,” Carlos starts…. And then he is glancing at her and he is young and stupid and her ilttle brother, but when he looks up at her, he looks older and serious.

“Also, I think It’s nice. Reggie hanging out with Dad. I think he…”

He fiddles with his ball, but doesn’t throw it. “I think he probably needs that, you know?”

Julie did know, she just didn’t know that Carlos knew. And understood. And was willing to share Dad like that because he knew. She feels her face start heating up with pride.

“How did you--” she starts. Then stops. She knows how she figured it out and she had mostly relied on being able to see when Reggie was around and how he tried to stay away for so long and her conversation with Luke.

“Oh. Uh. Well, he started a stash of food in my room,” Carlos says. Julie blinks at him. “I went up there one day and he was shoving granola bars in a box in the back of my closet. That was already filled with other stuff.

“He was acting really weird. I mean, nervous and I dunno. I asked him why and he said it was always a good backup in case you couldn’t go downstairs and then I asked why I wouldn’t be able to go downstairs and I think he was embarrassed but still insisted it was safer and--”

Carlos shrugs. Flushes because he realizes he had been talking a hair too fast.

“I don’t know. It made him feel better so I kept it. And it honestly is sometimes easier than going all the way downstairs.”

“Carlos!”

“He has one in your room too!’ Carlos says, laughing. “Basket tucked under your bed, I think. I’m telling you, once you get used to access to rice krispy treats in the middle of the night…”

“Oh my god,” Julie says and they are laughing about this, because what else is there to do but…

“So it’s really okay,” Carlos says. “Plus I figure now you and me can play catch?” He turns on those big brown eyes for that last part and he is so good that Julie can barely stand it.

“Oh alright,” she makes sure to roll her eyes so he knows that she is not falling for him for a second. “Let me put my bag down.”

*^*^*^

The boys are not supposed to be on her computer (there has actually been talk of getting them their own computer to uphold this rule, but none of them really seem to have much interest in technology (besides TV) given that they can always just poof to whoever they need to talk to and force Julie to do the research for them) so it’s a surprise when Julie walks into her room and finds Reggie, glaring at the screen.

“Reggie!” she says, fully intending to yell at him. She has private things on there!

And then he looks up at her. He looks dark and serious and--

“Will you help me?” he asks. “I don’t know how-- this thing is so complicated.” And Reggie isn’t the one who will get frustrated-- that’s Alex when his anxiety gets to be too much or Luke when a song isn’t going well or even herself when having three rambunctious boys who can pop in on her literally any time gets to be a little much-- but he’s frustrated now.

“Okay,” she says, her earlier rant about privacy flying out of her head. “Okay, yes, let me help. What do you need to do?”

With the boys, it could be anything. Alex wants to watch videos of skateboarding so he can pretend he knows something about what Willie talks about, or there was the week he discovered Sense8 and then Luke really just wants to google guitars or also there was that week Julie tried to get him on music producing software and then he just wanted to read articles about how digital music was destroying the industry (like some old grandpa).

“I’m--” Reggie stops and stands. Takes a breath and blows it out. Julie waits. He looks somewhere toward the ceiling. “I’m trying to find my parents.”

Julie stills.

That is not what she was expecting.

“Oh,” she says and it’s a struggle but she keeps her voice carefully neutral. She also takes the moment to look down and see that Reggie has type “goo-gull” into the windows search bar.

He doesn’t add anything and so she sets herself to opening the real google and seeing what she can do. Contrary to popular belief, it can be a little hard to find people if they aren’t famous and have fairly common names.

“What are their names?” she asks and instead of answering, Reggie just passes her a piece of paper. It has their names on it. And what she assumes to be his old address. She senses the mood and doesn’t say anything else. At least he comes and sits next to her to see the search results pop up.

There are a lot of them.

“Don’t worry,” she says when she sees his eyes widen. “Even if I can’t do it today, I can put Flynn or-or my dad on it and I’m sure one of them can--”

“No,” Reggie says. “I don’t want-- not them.”

Julie nods and keeps scrolling. She doesn’t know what Reggie’s parents did for a living so she doesn’t know if some of these websites apply but she scrolls slowly and hopes he’ll tell her if he sees something.

After two pages, “Let’s switch to images,” she suggests. “Maybe you’ll see them.”

Reggie hesitates but then nods.

After some more silent scrolling, the silence gets to be too much -- “Why do you--?”

“There.”

Julie stops scrolling and, yes, there-- there’s something slightly familiar about that woman’s nose and the darkness of that man’s hair. She clicks to enlarge it, but it’s still a blurry picture, pulled onto google search from Facebook, if she had to guess and--

And she knows that you can’t really judge someone off of a photograph, especially not one that’s older and blurry but she…

They don’t look nice, she decides. Even though both of them are smiling. The smiles look tense and forced and they are standing a hair too far away from each other to be called close.

“That’s them,” Reggie tells her needlessly.

“Oh,” Julie says again. He doesn’t sound excited. He sounds… she doesn’t know what he sounds.

She waits, risks glancing at him to find he is still just staring. And the silence drags and then right- right as she knows she’s got to say something, anything--

“I thought it was normal,” Reggie finally says softly. “They. I thought they were normal. I mean… I thought everyone’s parents were that way.”

He’s still not looking at her. Still just staring at the screen.

“I mean… Luke fought all the time with his parents and Alex’s were just… always too religious and a bit off even before they knew and so I just assumed that everyone… you know.”

Julie did not know. Not really. Not at all.

“I knew they hated me,” he says and he finally glances over at her. He’s not crying, but his voice is tight and the nod he gives her is jerky. He looks away quickly. “For forcing them to get married. And for forcing them to stay together too, I guess, though… it wasn’t just…”

His leg is bouncing now. Jumping up and down even as his fist clenches and presses on top of it.

“It’s not even just that though,” and his voice rises now, almost desperate. “They hated me. They said I was loud and annoying and stupid and I… I thought that was normal. I thought they were right.”

He shoots up now, solid enough that her little table gets pushed back when his shin hits against it, but he doesn’t seem to notice and he swipes at his eyes, but he’s not crying. Just red and Julie’s almost crying, she realizes, but she’s also tense and her stomach hurts and she doesn’t know what to do.

“They were my parents and they hated me and I thought-- I thought that was normal. That everyone would always hate--” He cuts off and Julie opens her mouth again but she doesn’t know what to say. The boys… the boys are young and happy and they are all an open book, even when they try not to be, but now… Now Reggie clenches his jaw and stops himself. The boys never stop themselves.

“It wasn’t right though,” Reggie says and he’s angry now. More angry than Julie’s seen anyone. “It wasn’t fair. What they did. Making me feel… yelling at me all the time and-and sending me to bed without dinner so often that I- I fucking thought everyone snuck snacks into their room and shoving me around and even when they were happy, I just knew it could turn so quickly, that even one mistake could just ruin everything and I- I-”

He cuts off, breathing hard.

“Reggie--” Julie starts. She stands but he takes a step away from her so she stills.

“It wasn’t fair,” he says and he’s quieter now but it doesn’t feel calmer. He meets her eyes and his are wet. “I just don’t get how they could-- why they--”

“It wasn’t fair,” Julie agrees and this time when she comes closer, he doesn’t move. So she gets to put a hand on his shoulder and breaths a small sigh of relief that he is solid right now.

“I had to die, Jules,” he says, looking at her again finally. And this is… being dead is something the boys rarely acknowledge in a real way. It’s usually a joke or an offhand comment or their comeback for why they shouldn’t have to help her with calculus. It’s not this. Soft and serious and then followed by a dark chuckle. “I literally had to fucking die to figure out that they were bad parents. And I bet-- I bet they were glad.”

Julie opens her mouth to say that of course they weren’t, that any parent would be heartbroken, that he can’t know that but--

But she doesn’t know them. She doesn’t know if that is true.

“Well,” she starts but Reggie backs away and cuts her off.

“I have to go,” he announces. And then he glances at her and realizes she’s crying and maybe realizes what just happened because he runs his hand through his hair and guilt enters his eyes but “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry about-- You weren’t supposed to-- I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Julie tries, but he’s already gone.

*^*^*^

Her first instinct is to run and get Luke and Alex, to tell them to poof to all the most likely spots for Reggie to be, to tell them everything that had happened and then maybe run and tell her dad too for good measure and to probably cry a little more but she--

She doesn’t.

She doesn’t know what stops her or why instead of yelling and rushing down the stairs, she takes a breath and falls back onto her couch, but… that’s what she does.

She falls back and stares at the picture she’d found a little longer and--

I hate you, she thinks. You didn’t deserve him.

And then she closes the tab without saving it.

And she doesn’t tell anybody.

*^*^*^

Reggie is a little late to rehearsal that day, but not enough to attract much notice.

He comes in cautious though. Julie sees it, since she knows to look for it.

He poofs up outside the garage and then slowly walks in and he’s waiting, she sees, for someone to say something or act weird or for them to all stop talking at once in an obvious display of “we were just talking about your breakdown earlier.” He’s tense and cautious and--

“Dude, awesome,” Luke says in greeting, waving a hand at him. “You’re here. We can get started. I think I have a killer idea for a harmony echo thing in the chorus of--”

Reggie looks suspicious for a beat longer, eyes flicking between Julie and Luke and then Alex, but Alex is too busy trying out a new spin move with his drumsticks to really be paying much attention and Luke is still droning on about his latest idea and Julie just gives him a smile. And a nod. And hopes that her eyes convey she didn’t actually say anything.

She knows it was the right call when the tension leaves Reggie’s shoulders.

Reggie gives her a smile and a nod and then they all do what they do best.

They play.

*^*^*^

That night, Julie spots her dad alone (actually alone) on the couch, fiddling with something on his laptop, and when they were playing music together, she didn’t think about it but now it all comes rushing back.

The hurt and the anger in his voice and the fact that she didn’t know what to say or do and it was the right call, not to tell anyone Reggie’s private business, she thinks, but she suddenly feels very sad again and the only thing for it is to plop down next to her dad and curl into his side.

He hums in greeting and keeps his eyes on his screen and she just enjoys it. His warmth and smell and marvels in the fact that he is always there. That she can always do this. That she has a dad who will always let her sit with him and who has to be coached into being angry and just loves her so damn much.

“Honey?” he says and he’s closing the laptop to twist and look at her. There is concern in his eyes. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and trying to ignore the heat behind her eyes that tells her she might cry. “Nothing’s wrong. I just-- It’s been a long day.”

“Too much practice?” he says.

“No, not that. Just… you know. One of those days.”

“Oh okay,” he says and then he’s lifting his arm so he can wrap it around her and squeeze her more firmly into his side. “Okay.”

They sit for a long moment, just breathing and Reggie should do this, she thinks, just sit and be calm and be held and she hopes one day, he does. That he is solid enough and comfortable enough and maybe he can’t tuck all that way into her dad’s side like she can but he should still… he should still try. One day.

She knows her dad would let him.

“Thank you,” she says. “For being such a good dad.”

Her dad’s soft laugh answers her. “Well, you know that’s my job.”

“Yeah, but… also for everything else too. With the band and the music program and for-for being so good to Re-- the boys. All the boys.”

She doesn’t know if he hears the name she almost said, but he tilts his head as if he knows. He probably does somehow.

“They’re great kids,” is what he says instead.

“Still,” she insists. “I know it’s a lot. But they- he- just thank you.”

He looks at her for a long moment and finally nods.

“Anytime.”

*^*^*^

“Thanks,” Reggie says, the next day, drifting over to where she is resting on the couch while Alex and Luke get into a semi-argument, semi-productive debate on a certain rhythm. “For not saying anything to the guys.”

“No problem,” she says. “But if you want to talk more or--”

“No, no,” he says, waving a hand as if that is going to make her forget the entire thing. “It’s not a big deal. It’s--”

“Reggie.” She says it firmly. She says it and then waits until he actually looks at her. “It is a big deal. Your parents were-- They were wrong and mean and fucking horrible and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your right and I won’t say anything. But it is a big deal. Your feelings are a big deal. You are a big deal. So talk to me or to my dad or to no one but don’t tell me it’s not a big deal.”

Reggie blinks at her and Julie flushes. But doesn’t back down. Keeps glaring at him.

“Uh. Okay,” Reggie says. “I- I will. Or I won’t. Tell you that.”

“Good,” Julie says, nodding once. And then Alex and Luke turn back to them and it seems they have compromised (Or maybe Alex won and Luke is just saying they compromised) and they’re back to it.

*^*^*^

As far as Julie knows, he doesn’t talk about it. At least, not with her.

But, gradually, he stops hesitating before announcing himself to her dad and he starts buzzing with the same kind of energy that he does in the garage in the house and, then later, she goes downstairs for a late night snack and Carlos is there too, half-heartedly complaining that his stash has run out and he had grown accustomed to a certain style of living and--

“Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray Ray RayRay,” Reggie says, running into the house, tripping over his own feet somehow and skidding into the counter, knocking over the fruit bowl in the process. Her dad idly straightens it with one hand, the other reaching out to collect the apples and oranges that had rolled everywhere but Reggie grabs it and pulls. “You gotta see this, there’s a bird and the light-- bring your camera!”

“A bird?” her dad says, and he sounds a bit doubtful but he is already grabbing his camera.

“Huge bird,” Reggie says, waving his hands as if to indicate. “Biggest bird ever. I think it’s a condor!”

“A condor! A California condor??” her dad’s eyes go huge and then he’s throwing one camera at Reggie and grabbing another out of a drawer and there are apples and oranges everywhere and her dad almost brains himself stepping on one and flying forward but Reggie catches him and suddenly, Julie is in the kitchen by herself, surrounded by fruit, staring at a pancake her dad was supposed to flip.

She rolls her eyes and smiles to herself and grabs the spatula.

She doesn’t think they’re coming back any time soon.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fanfiction #my fic #reggie #ray molina #julie molina #fanfiction #bullet point fic #but it is 7k #also yes i just pulled the title from finally free #it seemed to fit

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danteinthedevildom · 4 years ago

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So, talkin abt multilingual Mams,

I was gonna make this post anyway but then I saw @cheerypining put this in the tags of my post re: Mams’ English in his character song:

I would like to hollar out a hell yes!

The thing with Mams is that he isn’t stupid. He’s smart as fuck, he’s just motivated by self interest and fixation. It’s easier for him to learn things that are of interest to him, or that expand his interests. He’s got that sweet, sweet ADD brain.

So, if language helps him spread out his influence, make money, expand his contacts? It’s gonna be that lil bit easier for him to figure out. It might even be a fixation of his. Learn a language; open opportunities in the place that language hails from. Gain an interest in how language works. Learn other languages bc it’s fun.

Consider, then, if you will, for some of that tastey lore-building,

Mams starting out learning the languages of the most influencial/opulent human powers. It’s beneficial for him to figure out how to speak their language if he really wants to get at their pockets, and you can’t really smooth talk someone if you barely understand the way their haggling works. How is anyone going to trust you if their idioms go over your head, or if you miss some slang that marks you very starkly as an outsider? It’s a lot easier if they think you’re like them; if you know the little things that’ll get them lowering their guard around you.

He’s great with dialects, too. With differences between the upper and lower classes. It only takes one slip-up using court language around the common folk, or using the dialet of the north in the south, for him to recognise how important those divisions are. He works with trust, and the eventual corruption of that trust, and it becomes pretty clear to him pretty quick that trust can only be attained the more like his target he sounds.

Dead languages still live on in Mammon’s brain. He’s fluent in them, and even though he hasn’t really had to use them in some time, for some reason they’ve just never faded away. You can pretty much use him as a way to track how languages changed over time, how regional variants were influenced by other languages or cultures, when various languages died out and what replaced them.

It’s not something that he really thinks about. It was beneficial for him, so he learnt it. Beyond that, it was fun, and he enjoyed it. He doesn’t really give himself credit for just how much linguistic history he has stored inside his head, and he really doesn’t put much credit into how goddamn useful it is - or would be - for modern historians. That’s not what he’s interested in. He’s content to leave Satan to the books, to the past; he’s got more of a propensity for the practicality, anyway.

Listening to him talk is actually pretty astounding. The ease with which he slips into each language, the depth of his understanding for even the slight nuances between regions, makes him seem like a native speaker. The speed, too, is absolutely stunning; you’ve never seen a more baffling sight than Mammon, speaking mild-mannered in Russian to a witch, switching mid-sentence into heavily-flirtatious French to order from the waitress that came to their table. It’s like he doesn’t even stumble between the two, both as natural to him as breathing.

He has his preferences, of course. When he’s not using the language for his own goals - doesn’t need to, for instance, be careful about his word choice to ensure a bond of trust is made - he quickly slips into a dialect that is most comfortable for him. He might use ‘watashi’ or ‘ore’ when he’s on the job, might tack on the ‘gozaimasu’ to his greetings to make them polite, but when he’s just generally speaking Japanese? That’s when he starts using ‘ore-sama’, when he drops all the humble or stilted phrases; uses ‘ja ne’ instead of ‘sayounara'. That’s when, in English, he stops making sure to enunciate fully; starts shortening ‘you’ to ‘ya’, cuts off the ‘g’ from ‘ing’ words, starts peppering in ‘crap’ instead of ‘stuff’, lets his words slur together to make ‘whaddaya’ out of ‘what are you’.

He’s naturally an informal guy! It’s just the way he prefers to talk. He hates the pompous lingo, even if it’s usually the most beneficial to learn for what he does. If the language he’s speaking has a way to show belligerent informality, he will absolutely use it whenever he can. It’s a choice, make no mistake; he can arguably speak better in most languages than the stupid high academics. He just doesn’t enjoy that crap when it’s not immediately useful to him.

(Yes, that does mean he can comprehend even the most pompously written academic papers. No, that doesn’t mean he wants to read them. He would much sooner stab a fork into his giblets than sit down for any period of time and read that wordy bullshit. Same goes for a lot of Satan’s literature; it’s just not enjoyable for him to read, even if he can perfectly understand it.)

Sometimes a word works better in one language than another. It can get extremely frustrating for him, if he has a very specific point to get across; unless someone knows both languages, they’re never going to fully understand. And why use five words in the inefficient language when one in the efficient language would have been even better for his intent? ‘Fernweh’ works much better than ‘imagine being homesick for a place you’ve never been’, after all.

Mams has a tendency to drop in words he likes from other languages, which makes some of his speech sound a little confusing. He doesn’t think it makes him sound smarter, and he’s not doing it to show off; just, sometimes, he thinks ‘hey’ sounds better than ‘ohayou’, or that ‘ciao’ is cooler and more aloof than ‘au revoir’. Plus, it’s kinda funny when you’re talking to someone Lucifer and you insult them in a language they don’t understand.

(I mean, in English, we literally say stuff like “it has a little je ne sais quoi,” [it has a little something that I can’t adequately express] so we merge languages into our own in order to better express ourselves. Mams does the same. He just does it with words and phrases that aren’t always naturally used together within that language.)

Do you understand the amount of skill that comes with being able to do this without even stopping to think? He somehow manages to do it in a way that makes each sentence still perfectly fluent and understandable in translation. It’s a little incredible, actually, considering he doesn’t put any stock into this ability. It’s just natural for him. Why’s he gotta think on it more than that?

(This does mean, the few times someone points it out, that he gets incredibly flustered. Especially if they say it in awe, or in praise. It really is just second nature to him, not even something he’s putting on for show or something that he’s trying to be good at, so being given so much positive attention for it is... well. It’s surprising, and a little nice, actually. But also genuinely embarrasing. It’s perhaps the only time he’ll struggle to find words in any language.)

In conclusion:

Hell yeah I love reinforcin the idea that Mams ain’t stupid and that there’s a lot of goddamn skill that comes with learnin languages and learnin them to such a degree you can accurately pepper their words into your speech without stoppin to think.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me mammon

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enamoured-x · 4 years ago

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Happy Ending

Summary: You give Angel some much needed tlc after a long week apart.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Cock warming

Word count: 1.9k

a/n: this came to me randomly so i decided to write it. enjoy! ;)

When Angel said he had to leave for a week with the mc, you were worried for him. Not because of the inevitable trouble he always got into, but because these runs would have Angel coming home to you all worn out and exhausted. You knew he never slept great to begin with on these little trips but without you in his bed, well, Angel hated it. He was so used to sharing your bed every night that these runs would have him up all hours of the night smoking because he couldn’t sleep comfortably. He had become dependent on you being there and he didn’t care how needy it sounded.

Throughout the week he kept up with you. You weren’t the type to need to speak to him everyday but you both definitely couldn’t resist, even if only for a few minutes. Eventually the week was over and Angel was quickly on his way home to you. You knew you were both lovesick with how much you missed each other from just one week away, but neither of you cared. You loved him. And you wanted him back home with you, wanted him comfortable and well rested. Which is how you came up with the idea to give Angel some much needed relaxation.

It was a Sunday evening when you heard the loud roar of Angel’s bike coming down the street. You smiled to yourself at the thought of finally having your man back home. You waited patiently as he pulled into the driveway and walked up.

“Baby, I’m home!” He called out as you made sure everything was set up in the bedroom. You heard him coming up the stairs.

“In here!” You yelled. You heard him making his way down the hall and then he was in the doorway. You couldn’t help the smile that took over your face as you practically ran over to him and pulled him in for a kiss. He was happy to oblige as he grabbed onto your waist.

“Hey, baby.” You whispered into his mouth and he smiled.

“Damn, I missed you.” He said and placed a kiss on your nose.

“Not as much as I missed you. Now go hop in the shower, I got a surprise for you.” You pulled away from him and lightly pushed him in the way to the bathroom.

“In the shower?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes. As much as you wanted to jump Angel, you also wanted him to relax. He was home now, you had all the time in the world.

“No. Just go get washed up.” You told him, he didn’t argue although you knew he was confused. He placed a kiss to your forehead before entering the bathroom, leaving the door open and sending you a wink in the mirror. You huffed out a laugh. You continued getting oils and lotions out and placed them on the nightstand. You turned on your oil diffuser, causing the room to start to fill with a lavender and honey scent. Next you laid down a towel on the bed and took off the pillows. Angel was quick with the shower, probably excited about your surprise. So you hurried down to the kitchen to warm up the oils and then returned just as he was getting out. You tried hard not to get distracted by the steam wafting behind him as he walked out, droplets of water running down his bare chest and underneath the towel at his waist. He smirked and was about to say something until he looked around and noticed not only the set up on the bed but the oils and the scent now filling the room.

“What’s all this?” He asked, pointing to the bed. You finally took your eyes off his chest and walked over to him.

“I know you’ve been stressed with the club and then going out of town. And I know for a fact you didn’t get much sleep,” you swiped at the crows feet at his eyes. “So I’m going to give you a massage, get you relaxed. Because you deserve it.”

“Shit, querida. You’re so fucking sweet, so damn good to me.” He pulled you in for a kiss that had your head spinning. You gave in for a few moments, letting him lick into your mouth until you pulled back.

“Come on, lay on your stomach.” Is all you said before tugging at his towel and letting it fall to the floor. You peeked at his package but had enough sense not to get distracted again, at least not yet.

“Yes, ma’am.” He said and walked toward the bed. When he got settled you took in the sight of him. Naked and waiting. Fuck, you wanted him. But he needed this and maybe after you’d get the release you wanted after a week.

You climbed onto the bed and straddled his thighs. You then reached over to grab the warm oils and lather your hands in it. Once you placed your hands on his back he let out a groan. And when you started rubbing and kneading, he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He mumbled, eyes closed, tension slowly ebbing away at the touch of your hands. You found that his neck and shoulders were where he appreciated your hands the most if his groans were anything to go off of.

“I love you.” He moaned out. You laughed and leaned down to place a kiss at the nape of his neck.

“Love you too, baby.” You said and then got back to work. Switching to a lotion and then a warm oil again.

You were happy to see Angel so relaxed, you were happy you could help him.

“Alright, gonna do your chest. Turn around.” You said as you moved yourself to the side of the bed. He turned over and you straddled him again. This time his semi hard length nudged your core and you let out a little gasp.You were dressed in one of Angel’s old shirts, nothing but a thin pair of panties on underneath. Angel smirked, lazy and eyes hooded.

“Could just move your panties to the side. Let me slide in, stay there like that while you work on me.” Fuck. The idea of having him inside you, not to have sex but to just keep him warm. You were surprised at how hot that made you.

“You like that idea, huh? Sitting still on my cock while you run those hands all over me.” He trailed his hands up your thighs and to your hips. You rolled your hips at his words, not able to stop the needy sigh that came out of your mouth.

“Go ahead, mi dulce.” He urged you. You quickly did as he said, lining up his member as you pulled your panties to the side. You threw your head back as you slowly sunk down on him. You were surprised at how wet you were already, how easy it was for him to slide into you. Angel gripped your hips tighter, hissing at your tight heat.

“This helping you relax?” You teased as you finally bottomed out. You were so full of him and so damn needy for him, and to think that you weren’t even done with the massage yet.

“Mmm, fuck yeah.” He groaned. You closed your eyes. You took a moment to settle down, but that was hard to do when he was so deep. God, it felt amazing. You took a deep breath and then opened your eyes again, only to be met with Angel’s smirk. He lifted off your shirt and was pleased to see your bare chest.

“Continue.” Is all he said. You bit your lip and started to run your hands down his chest. Trying to keep your hips still, the more you moved the more you wanted to say fuck the massage and ride him. But you wanted to do this. Wanted to keep him warm while you finished his massage.

You rubbed down his stomach and across his chest. He closed his eyes and let out a groan. Both the massage and feel of you wrapped tight around him, it was pure bliss.

“Feels good, mami. So lucky to have you.” He said, rubbing your thighs a bit before placing one hand behind his head, watching you. You bit your lip and tried to concentrate on anything other than his cock filling you up, fitting you nice and snug.

“Missed you. Missed this.” He babbled on.

“Missed you too.” You moved down to press a kiss to his chest. Your hips coming off him slightly causing you both to moan. You got right back to rubbing your hands up and down his front, and getting his shoulders again.

“Damn, you’re gonna make me come just like this.” You giggled at his words. You’d barely done anything but here he was not able to control himself.

“Yeah? Wanna come inside me? You can if you want, just let go. This is about you, baby.” You said, running your nails down the sides of his stomach. He groaned and bucked up, making you gasp, nails digging into his skin.

“Yeah? Gonna let me come inside while you just sit on my cock and take it?” You whimpered at his words and nodded your head, slowly rolling your hips.

“I’m not coming unless you do, mi dulce.” Is all he said before he sat up and took a nipple in his mouth, his thumb moving down to rub on your clit. You cried out as he started to thrust up into you and you quickly started grinding down onto him. You were embarrassed with how close you already were.

“So good for me. Always giving me what I want, well I want you to come on my cock so I can fill you up. Can you do that for me, querida?” He mumbled against your nipple, then taking it back into his mouth, sucking and biting. You cried out as his thumb rubbed your sensitive nub faster.

“Yes! Yes, I can. Fuck, Angel, I’m close.” You grabbed the back of his head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, trying to pull him further into you. You were both ready to come.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby. Gonna come with me?” He asked, trying to pump his hips faster and deeper, trying to get more friction.

“Yes! I’m gonna come, Angel.” You bit down on his shoulder as he grunted, and when you felt him yell your name and release inside of you, you were done for. Your orgasm slammed through you as you arched your back, and clinged to him. You rolled your hips, chasing the last effects of your high until finally it left you. Angel kissed the tops of your breast and then looked up at you. You leaned your forehead against his and he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth.

“Welcome home.” You said, still trying to catch your breath. He laughed and then kissed your nose.

“Shit, that was some welcome home. But I ain’t done with you yet.” He said, rubbing his hands down your sides. You hummed and kissed him again.

“I would hope not.” You said and rolled your hips again, already feeling him harden again inside you.

“Gotta whole week to make up for. Gotta start somewhere.” He said and then flipped you over so he was hovering over you.

Angel kept you up into the early hours of the morning and you only woke when you felt his tongue between your thighs. You definitely made up the week that you spent apart.

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #mayans mc

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frostahesmegabite · 3 years ago

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DWC - Romance

@daily-writing-challenge - Day 3 - Romance It wasn’t always easy to surprise Naturasu with a romantic evening. The troll had a habit of showing up suddenly, as if by magical summoning, any time Mega thought about her and so he made it a point to not think of her name during tonight's preparations. Ya know, just in case that was an actual thing. Tonight he wanted to do something special, not necessarily just pounce her for a hard night of bloodletting and fucking… Albeit, he wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how it ended anyways, it was usually a safe bet unless one of them was horribly injured in some fashion. Still, tonight he wanted something different, so he set out to work on everything! He wasted no time in calling in small favors to have food brought in for him to cook and prepare while Nat was away at The Knot in Booty Bay, doing one of her ‘New Toy/Most Popular’ showings for the members who came to watch them all get tested and reviewed. He knew she’d be away for hours, putting on a proper show for everyone and this was the perfect chance while she was distracted! It was moments like this that he was thankful for the heavy modifications they made for their kitchen. Sure, the counters and island, everything was to height for Naturasu, but when you’re an interracial couple with size differences, tasks like food preparation become such a chore that it’s near impossible without some effort. Their solution? Retractable cabinets that allow Mega to use as stairs or platforms to walk and stand on that effectively allow him to cook shoulder to shoulder with his fiancé without having to constantly drag around step ladders, stools or making her kneel, hunch or squat just to get to his level. It’s these very things that allow him to move back and forth between Island and Counters or Island and Stove, transporting various foods and ingredients around. Shrimp Scampi. Lemon Pepper Bush Chicken, Rotisserie style of course. Gilnean Clam Chowder. Filet Mignon with Garlic Butter. Those were just the main dishes as Mega wanted to make sure Nat had plenty to choose from! The ovens are in overdrive with an assortment of baking breads and desserts while in his hands he slices and dices at various fruits and melons in an effort to create a tray for nibbles to start them off. Of course, Mega couldn’t help himself from time to time. What chef could with all these scents bombarding his senses?! Black and Gold painted claws skewering the occasional piece of Pineapple just to flick into the back of his mouth before his long teeth make light work of their form. Hours were going by and thanks to a couple of magical items on top of Naturasu’s ‘Tupper’s Wares’, he was able to keep the food that was completed that needed to be kept hot or cold without drying out or their temperature changing, everything was coming along smoothly! So smoothly in fact that Mega was practically dancing as he sprinkled fruit chunks with sugar, cinnamon or even a bit of whipped topping. Tonight was meant to be a bit more of a romantic and sweet night thanks to the Kids being back with their Aunt… or was it their Uncle's turn tonight? Mega lost track thanks to the efforts of his romantic planning, but either household he knew they’d be well taken care of and that they’d end up coming back in a few days with all sorts of new stories about which kids beat up which, who was mean and what all they did. Mega’s hand comes into his shirt pocket, retrieving the chain watch to gauge the time. His eyes bulge and he heads to the window, looking outside to see where the sun was at and it was already dark. “Fuckin hell, where’s tha time gone?” He mutters out. Crunch time! He begins to move quicker now! He double checked the meats and seafood, making sure they were still nice and hot, the fruits cold and still moist and then the topper… Which he didn’t make cause baking definitely wasn’t his forte, cookies with little dollops of chocolate dropped right in their centers. Sure, a nice little sugar rush at the end never hurt anyone! That’s when he realized one important thing

was missing. “The booze! Fuck my life.” Alcohol, Nat’s primary source of… Well, anything. If she was a fish, Beer would be her water. But, tonight was a different night, romance called for more than just standard brewed beer. Nope. Mega pushes on the Island, causing it to roll and swing away and he rushes down into their cellar and begins to rummage and walk the wall, looking for a particular set of bottles. “Ahh, here we go.” He takes out a bottle of aged Arc-Wine. Something largely for himself as it didn’t take much of it’s alcoholic and magical properties to tear him the fuck up. On the other hand, Mega stops and grabs the equivalent of a Mini-Keg of Mak’gora; a Raspberry Honey Ale. He never tried it himself, but it was supposed to be hellaciously strong for an Ale. With the drinks selected, he runs upstairs and pulls the Island back in place, laying everything out and getting classes and mugs ready. “Alright, food’s prepped, just gotta remove the lids for when she gets in and time for a quick shower so I can be clean and ready for when she gets here!” He does a mixture of a sprint and skip down the hallway, throwing off clothes along the way until his naked ass cuts the corner and runs into their khorium tiled bathroom where he proceeds to lather himself up with soap that smelled of Dragon Fruit and shampoo that smelled similar to coconut. While he knew his natural minty scent would intermingle with these eventually, for now, they’d at least provide a respite to his usual. Mega was quickly throwing on his clothes, a white button up shirt, gold vest and tie along with matching white pants and shoes to match. Sure, it might have been a bit much for an in-home romantic night, but Mega knew what he looked best in and he’d be damned if he didn’t try for that tonight! With a quirky pep to his step, he heads out back out to the dining room to wait on Nat’s arrival home. However, the night had other plans and a moment of shock hits him as he comes to a complete stop and freeze frame. Upon the island wasn’t just the food and deserts he had spent the entire day and evening preparing, but a completely naked Naturasu who had taken it upon herself to adorn her body with the many bits of food he created. “I heard ya in tha shower sugah and I didn’t wanna disturb you, so… I thought that since ya spent all this time preparing to romance me, I’d offer you something back in return.” A wry, wide brimmed smile slowly begins to creep over Mega’s face as his fingers begin to loosen his tie and undo the buttons to his vest and shirt while he slowly closes the distance just to walk up the stairs to top the island (and maybe Nat in short succession). He picks up the bottle of Ale he had chosen for her and pulls off the cork topper with his teeth, spitting it across the room before smiling down at her. “And here they say Romance is dead.” He takes a hefty drink of her brew, letting it linger before leaning in to smash the food between the two of them just so he can kiss her and share the taste. “Long live romance.” He beams between a few soft, teasing kisses and lip bleeding induced love nibbles. <Fade to Black>

#dwc2021 #Day3DWC #Romance #Megahes #Naturasu #Steamy Ending #fade to black

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mortal-kombat-stuff · 4 years ago

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¤Cuddling HC¤

Baraka:

When you first bring up the idea of cuddling the Tarkatan crossed his arms and eyed you in suspicion, but with enough explaining and pestering Baraka finds himself curious about how human mates show affection and agrees. He expects you to take the lead for this one since Tarkatans don't exactly cuddle (y'know with the spikes and all). When he lays down he's as still as a plank and doesn't make a move unless you instruct otherwise, since he does not wish to harm you accidentally. Eventually, with lots of position changes, Baraka favors having you lay on his chest with his hands at the small of your back and waist. The feeling of you in his arms and the warmth of your body soothes him in a way he has never experienced before. In short, He definitely could get used to cuddles.

Erron Black:

To Erron cuddling is something that allows you to be vulnerable, so for Erron to even consider asking he's gotta trust you a heck of a lot. However, when he does ask it's without words as he wraps his arms around you one night and things just go on from there. This cowboy is a big spoon, no exceptions, he loves the feeling of you in his arms and it gives him a better position to protect you if need be. Be warned though, once he settles into the feeling he never wants to let go. In other words, you're pretty much stuck in whatever position the two of you fall asleep in until he wakes up because good luck getting out of his grip.

Fujin:

Fujin is an overall friendly guy, he's not someone that steps over other boundaries without permission, especially his S/O, so when you bring up the idea of cuddling he's pretty ecstatic. After living among Mortals for quite some time, he found himself fascinated with human courting rituals so he knows a bit about cuddling but has never experienced it firsthand. So when you get to cuddling, you two tried many different positions to see what you both liked. Fujin doesn't have much of a preference, so long as he can see your lovely face and hear your wonderful voice he doesn't care. Having you there with him is all he needs to feel satisfied.

Kung Lao:

Kung Lao has never had much experience when it comes to the romantic aspects of a relationship, especially since you would be his very first relationship. However, once you bring up the idea of cuddling his eyes light up instantly as he's practically dragging you to bed once the words leave your mouth. He's a sucker for physical affection, so Lao doesn't have a preference for little or big spoons. He loves to have you in his arms as much as he loves being in your arms. To him, whenever you hold him or vice versa, Lao feels secure and bathes in the affection of you nuzzling your head on him or dragging your fingers along his back while you hold him in your arms.

Raiden:

Similar to Fujin, Raiden knows a bit of mortal custom but also understands that courting rituals have changed over time so he is fairly open to trying something new with enough pestering. As a God, Raiden doesn't need much sleep, he doesn't mind being the little spoon every once in a while but he prefers being a big spoon, he loves the feeling of you cuddling up to him as he shields you from the dangers of the world for a bit.

Dark Raiden is a big spoon all the way, there is no negotiating or bribing, His favorite position is when you face him with your arms on his chest, and insists that you both take that position whenever you cuddle because he can shield you both easily this way (definitely not because he thinks you look adorable whenever you nuzzle into him at night). Overall, Both see cuddle time as something intimate and to be cherished, which makes them all the more glad to be able to spend it with you.

Scorpion:

Hanzo was hesitant when the idea of cuddling came to light, don't get me wrong it has nothing to do with you, it's just that after losing his family he has always been hesitant when it came to getting close to others. When it does happen, it's unplanned, after waking up from a nightmare of his past he immediately turns and places a hand on you to reassure himself that you were there and very much alive. Afterward, he just pulls you to his chest and holds you for the rest of the night finding comfort at the sound of your breathing and warmth. Since then Hanzo goes out of his way to initiate cuddling. Of course, he's the big spoon since he finds it to be both comfy and convenient in case he needs to protect you.

Sub-Zero:

Kuai started a bit awkward when you first started cuddling, He grew up around people that believed love and affection to be a weakness, so he doesn't have much experience when it comes to relationships in general. This does however mean that Kuai is touch starved, whether or not he admits to it, so whenever he gets any form of physical affection from you he melts instantly to bathe in your warmth. But when it comes to giving affection, he comes off a bit awkward but always makes up for it by praising you and holding you closer to him. He knows he's not an ideal cuddle buddy since his hands are quite cold, but he always tries to wear warm clothes to make you comfortable.

#mortal kombat #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #mk scorpion #mk sub zero #lord raiden #mk fujin #mk baraka #erron black #kung lao #mk11 #kuai liang x reader #hanzo hasashi x reader #raiden x reader #baraka x reader #fujin x reader #kung lao x reader #erron black x reader

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blueberry-sunghoon · 4 years ago

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"#welovejay" | jay park

*in this story, you are also a member of enhypen. you and jay are the main characters (though the other members are there as well). minor swearing warning (one "hell", one "ass", one "shit"). the story is 4,357 words long. i really hope you like this story. if you do, leave a comment if you want😊*

The time was 8:45 PM. You and the other Enhypen members were at the dorm, sitting around in the living room. You were all exhausted after a particularly long day of practice.

“I’m starving but I’m too lazy to get up,” Ni-ki groaned.

“I’ll make us some ramen,” said Heeseung as he got off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

~~~

At 9:05, all of you were eating the ramen Heeseung made and you had broken off into conversations. Jake and Heeseung were talking to each other, Sunghoon and Sunoo were talking to each other, and you were talking to Jungwon and Ni-ki. In the middle of your conversation, you realized that Jay was the only one without anyone to talk to. Not only that, he wasn’t eating; he was just staring at his food and picking at it.

You tapped on Jay’s shoulder. “Jay,” you said. No reaction. You tapped his shoulder again. “Jay?”

“Huh?” he said, startled, and turned to look at you. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Are you going to eat?”

Jay sighed. “I’m not really hungry.”

You could sense that something was wrong with Jay, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t want to pry any further. “Okay then. Let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

After that, the mood was somber and quiet for a few minutes, but eventually you all returned to your conversations. You were still worried about Jay, but you pushed your worries to the back of your mind.

When all of you (except Jay) finished eating, you decided you would clean up today since everyone was tired. As you started to collect everyone’s bowls, Jungwon stood up and said, “I can help with that.”

“No, that’s okay,” you said. “I can do it myself. You had a long day; you should rest.”

“But you’re tired too. You also had a long day,” Jungwon protested.

“Rest or I’ll take your elbows,” you said finally.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. “I guess if you put it that way. Are you sure you don't need any help?”

“Positive.”

~~~

Some time later, at 10:30, you were still cleaning up and washing the dishes when everyone (again, except for Jay) walked up to you. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can help with?” said Jake.

“100%. I’m completely fine,” you answered.

“Okay. Well, in that case, we’re all going to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone waved to you, said goodnight, and walked out.

“Wait, Jungwon,” you whispered to him before he could go anywhere. He turned to face you. You motioned for him to come over and he did. “Have any of you tried talking to Jay? I think something is wrong and he isn’t telling us,” you said as you kept your voice at minimum volume.

Jungwon sighed. “Yeah, I thought so too. Sunoo and I tried talking to him but he wouldn’t even look at us. I think it’s best if we leave him alone for now.”

“I think so too,” you said defeatedly.

The room went silent for a few moments. Eventually Jungwon broke the silence and said, “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Jungwon walked out of the kitchen and you kept cleaning the dishes. Eventually you finished, but you looked over at Jay in the living room and sighed in frustration when you realized you had forgotten to take his dish. You walked into the living room and you found him sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. You then went to the small table where his food was and quietly asked, “Can I put this away?”

He didn’t look up from his phone; he just gave a silent nod.

So you took his dish back to the kitchen and put it in a food saver. Then you washed the bowl and went back to the living room to retrieve your phone. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jay didn’t acknowledge you, and you felt absolutely defeated. You were about to head to your room when you heard Jay say something.

“I can’t do anything without being made fun of.”

You paused for a moment to think about what he could have meant. Who was he talking about? You sat down next to him. “Was it something I said?” you asked softly.

Jay shook his head. “No, it wasn’t you.” Jay handed you his phone and said, “Look.” Confused, you took his phone and you saw the selfie he had posted on Twitter earlier that day. He was in the practice room and he was making a peace sign. “You see it?” he said.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Look at the comments.”

You realized what was making him so upset when you scrolled through the comments. All the comments were making fun of his double-jointed fingers. “Oh my god,” you said in complete disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

“Whatever,” Jay huffed. “It is what it is.”

You were at a loss for words, so the room went silent for a few moments. “I mean, does anyone take me seriously at all?! Literally everything I do, they find something to laugh at. I really spent three years as a trainee just to be someone’s meme.” Hearing his voice laced with sadness and anger broke your heart.

“Jay, you can’t focus on those comments; those aren’t real fans,” you tried to encourage him.

“I don't see anything else to focus on,” Jay said as he continued to scroll through the comments. “Do I even have real fans?”

“Jay, of course you do-”

He didn’t bother to let you finish your sentence. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. Jay’s voice was shaky and you could tell he was about to cry. He didn’t want you to see him shed any tears, so he said, “I gotta go.” And just like that, he left.

The living room was now empty except for you, and all of a sudden your emotions hit you like a truck. You felt mostly angry, though. You were angry at those commenters, angry at the fact that Jay felt like he had no real fans, angry at yourself because you didn’t know how to make Jay feel better… tears formed in your eyes and you didn’t try to stop them. You just stared into space as they fell down your face.

You had to prove to Jay that he had real fans. Did you know how? No. Were you going to rest until you did it? Absolutely not.

~~~

The time was now 1:28 AM. Following the vow you made yourself that you wouldn’t rest until you found a way to make Jay feel better, you were still wide awake, laying on your bed in your room (you had a separate bedroom from the boys). Your mind was racing trying to come up with an idea, but unfortunately you were in a constant cycle of coming up with a new idea and then throwing it away once you saw a flaw in it.

“It’s useless,” you thought to yourself. You took your phone from under your pillow and logged in to your secret Tiktok account. Belift let you have a secret Tiktok account, and you were grateful for that. Your page looked like a fanpage like any other, but being able to communicate with your fans without them knowing it was y/n from Enhypen, becoming mutuals with them, and participating in the trends they made really made your day. These days, the Sunoo cult was going around, and it was funny to see that pretty much everyone had the same profile picture.

All of a sudden, a lightbulb went off in your head. What if I started something similar for Jay? You ran to Twitter to find the selfie Jay posted that day and downloaded it. Then you opened a photo editing app, added heart stickers and sparkles all around it, and put some text that said “We love Jay”. Going back to Tiktok, you switched your profile picture to the one you just made.

It looks good, you thought, but how am I going to spread it? It wouldn’t be an easy task, especially since the Sunoo cult was still raging in popularity and you didn’t have much of an audience on Tiktok (71 followers to be exact). The only way to quickly spread the word was to post a Tiktok and expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen… expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen? said your head. No way. You’ll get in hella trouble and you know it. You probably wouldn’t be allowed on your secret Tiktok anymore.

Do you have any better ideas? said your heart. This would be the fastest way to spread the message. You’re y/n from Enhypen for goodness’ sakes, the fans would listen to you in a heartbeat. Besides, you aren’t doing this for yourself. You’re doing it for Jay.

What your head said made sense, but you would rather help Jay than help yourself. Like you did most of the time, you took your heart’s word for it.

You tried to think of where to film your Tiktok. Your room was definitely not suitable. Unless you wanted to film yourself whispering, the boys would definitely hear you. Your room was adjacent to theirs, and the wall between the two rooms was thinner than a piece of paper… well, not that thin, but thin enough.

You also considered the living room, but that was also a no-go because anyone could just walk in and see what you were doing. Eventually you decided to film it outside on the porch. There’s no way anyone would be going outside at this time (except you, of course). You slowly crept out of your room, into the hallway, into the living room, careful so as to make as little noise as possible, and eventually out the front door. You took a deep breath of relief and waited for your pounding heart to return to its normal rhythm.

You turned on the light next to the door so you could see, and then you pulled out your phone and started to record. “Hey everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen,” you started, but before you could continue you heard the front door open and there was Sunghoon.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

You panicked and your heart started to rush again. “I think the real question is, ‘What are you doing out here?’” you said, trying to laugh it off.

“I asked you first though,” Sunghoon said with a smirk. “But I’ll answer your question to humor you. I woke up and I was thirsty, so I made my way to the kitchen to get myself some water. But then I saw that the light outside was on, and I went to check it out. Then I saw you and asked you what you were doing out here.”

“Oh.”

“So what are you doing out here?”

“Well, um, I, you see, see I couldn’t sleep, right?” you answered, stumbling over your words. “So I came out here and started to record a -note video.”

You were sweating bullets and you could feel your heart going 100 miles per hour. By some miracle, though, Sunghoon couldn’t see how anxious you were and he said, “Okay then. Don't stay out too late. Don't forget we start shooting our music video in the afternoon, and we have to get some practice in before then.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“See ya,” said Sunghoon as he waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

That was way too close, you thought to yourself. I should hurry up and get this filmed before someone else sees me. Even though you were a K-pop idol and you were constantly in front of cameras, you still sometimes felt weird about recording yourself. It took a few takes, but you finally finished filming.

You turned off the light and quietly made your way back to your room so you could edit the video before posting it. You plopped yourself back on your bed and added subtitles to the video. Then you went to add a caption and some hashtags including #welovejay. Your thumb hovered over the “post” button and your head tried to interfere once again. y/n, before you post that, think! is it-

But you didn’t care for any of that; you posted the video without hesitation. Feeling better than you had all day, you decided it was time to get some shut-eye. You put your phone back under your pillow and let your eyes drift to a close.

~~~

Your alarm, which was “Fairy of Shampoo'' by TXT, went off at 7:15. You groaned because you didn’t want to wake up, but you liked the song so you didn’t turn off your alarm. Instead, you laid there with your eyes closed because you didn’t feel like opening them.

Then, all of a sudden you remembered the Tiktok you posted five hours earlier. You opened your eyes and feverishly opened Tiktok to see how the post did. You gasped when you saw that your Tiktok received 150,000 likes and over half a million views. Still in shock of how well your post did, you scrolled through the comments.

“changed my profile picture! #welovejay”

“OMG ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN MUTUALS WITH Y/N FROM ENHYPEN”

“b00sting so more people see this!!!”

You also saw that many of the people in the comments had the same profile picture you made. And #welovejay was used in over one million videos. It worked, you thought to yourself. It really worked! You were so happy that you started doing a little dancey-dance around your room. I can’t wait until Jay sees this.

~~~

At 10:45, all eight of you were in the practice room, taking a short break from practicing. You watched as Sunghoon and Sunoo made a Tiktok. They were doing the dance of “Me gustas tu” by Gfriend (Sunoo wouldn’t leave Sunghoon alone until he agreed to do it with him).

“Do you like this take?” asked Sunoo.

“It’s definitely better than the last one,” answered Sunghoon, “I think it’s okay to post.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Sunghoon wrote the caption for the video (“Just so you all know, Sunoo made me do this”) and posted it.

“Did you post the video already?” said Jake. “I want to see the comments. Engene's comments crack me up.”

Sunoo motioned for him to come over. “Yeah, we just did. Come and see.”

Jake walked over to where Sunghoon and Sunoo were. Sunghoon pressed the “comments” button, and all three were shocked by what they saw.

“How come everyone in the comments has the same profile picture?” asked Jake.

“I don't know, but it spread pretty quickly. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since he posted this picture,” Sunoo remarked.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked. You walked over to where the three were standing and looked at Sunghoon’s phone, and then you realized what they were talking about. A smile came across your face. “Wow, that’s really cool,” you said as if it wasn’t your doing. “Guys, you gotta come see this, this is really cool.”

“What is it?” asked Heeseung as he walked over with Jungwon and Ni-ki.

“Everyone has the same profile photo here,” Sunoo beamed.

Jay didn’t even bother walking over. If everyone has the same profile picture, there’s no way it’s me. It’s probably someone cute like Ni-ki. I’m the last person it could be. He stood aloof as he watched the seven of you gush over the picture.

“Jay-hyung, come see this!” said Jungwon.

Jay sighed and he reluctantly walked over. At least he could be happy for whoever’s picture it was instead of standing there jealous. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see. The second he did, his smile was so huge and it wouldn’t come off his face even though he tried to hide it. “Oh my god,” he said in utter disbelief. “Sunghoon, can I see your phone?”

Sunghoon handed Jay his phone, and Jay kept scrolling and scrolling through the comments. “This is insane. Everyone really made me their profile picture.” Maybe I do have real fans.

“The text on the picture is so small though, I can’t read what it says,” said Jungwon.

“Me neither,” said Ni-ki, and everyone else agreed.

Without thinking, you blurted out the answer. “It says ‘We love Jay’.” The seven boys immediately looked at you, and you realized your mistake.

“How do you know? That text is way too small and none of us can read it,” Jungwon inquired.

You hesitated for a moment, and then you replied, “Well if you click on one of the profiles and click on the picture, you’ll be able to zoom in and see what the text says.”

“Is that how you found out what it says? Because none of us clicked on any of the profiles.”

Oh. You didn’t think about that. There was no way around it now. Guess it was time to tell them the truth. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you heard the sound of your least favorite manager storming through the hallway and screaming, “PARK Y/N!!!”

“Holy shit, y/n,” said Ni-ki. “What did you do this time?”

You knew exactly what was about to happen. The manager burst through the door, anger scribbled all over her face. She walked over to where you were, and she pulled out her phone, revealing a screenshot of your Tiktok. She pointed the screen in your direction. “Park y/n,” she yelled in lower case, trying to calm herself down, “What. Is. This.”

The other seven pairs of eyes in the room were on you, expecting an answer. But you stayed silent.

The manager couldn’t keep her cool anymore. “Do you not understand Korean?? I asked you WHAT IS THIS???”

“A Tiktok,” you mumbled.

“Oh my goodness, y/n,” she started as she took a deep breath. “I’ve known you for eight long years, and of all of the ridiculous things you’ve done, this is by far the most audacious! What possessed you to do this, huh?! Do you remember the day I agreed to let you have a secret account?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Last I remember, the secret account was to be SECRET! Not known or not seen by the public. How could you go directly against our agreement?? Look at this - 700,000 likes! This was when I screenshotted it. Who KNOWS how many it could have now!”

700,000 likes? Wow, it blew up so much since I last checked. When I woke up it only had 150,000. You were so excited that your plan worked, and you didn’t realize that a tiny smile crept up on your face.

“YAH!” screamed the manager. “How can you be laughing right now?! Is that what you have to say for yourself?! Why did you even do this?!”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before you spoke. “Mrs. Choi, did you watch the video?”

“y/n, I don't give a rat’s ass what’s in your video. It's probably something stupid. There’s no reason you couldn’t have posted it on Enhypen’s official Tiktok.”

“I believe if you watch the video, you’ll understand why I posted it.”

“Nonsense,” she huffed as she opened Tiktok to find your video. “Let’s hear it.” The video started as she turned her volume all the way up.

“Hey, everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen. Um, this has been my secret account for a while. I guess it won’t be much of a secret anymore after I post this, and I’ll more than likely get in trouble for it, but I don't care. What I need to say is that important. You guys know Jay. Well, he’s having a tough time and I really wanted to encourage him. Do you guys see my profile picture? I made it myself. If you guys want to do me a favor, you can change your profile picture to this so we can show Jay how much we love him. I’ll put the picture at the end so you can crop it. If you don't want to change your profile picture that’s completely fine; you can also help by boosting the video so more people see it. Like, comment, share/copy link, use the hashtag #welovejay, whatever you need to do. If I don't post again on here, it means I got in trouble. Engene, I’m counting on you. Hwaiting!”

As the video ended, Mrs. Choi’s anger faded away. “Oh,” she said softly. “Did any of you know about this?”

“Yes and no,” answered Jake. “Sunghoon and Sunoo just posted a Tiktok, and we saw that all of the commenters had the same profile picture, but we didn’t know that it was y/n who started it.”

“I need to see this,” said Mrs. Choi. She searched for Enhypen’s most recent Tiktok on her phone and looked through the comments. “You know what y/n?” she said as she looked up from her phone to face you, “I respect you for this. I’m sorry that I got so angry at you.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“While I respect what you did, that doesn’t change the fact that you broke the agreement you and I had. I can’t let you go without consequences. Consider the secret Tiktok thing over. From now on, the only one you use is @enhypen. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said.

“Good,” she said. She took a deep breath. “Well, I’ll see the eight of you later at the music video shoot.”

You all bowed as you said bye, and Mrs. Choi took her leave.

After she left, the room went silent. You could tell that everyone else was thinking about what just happened and you tried to divert their attention to something else. “Well, we should get back to practicing.”

“Not so fast,” said Heeseung. “y/n, you’re the one who started the Jay profile picture thing?”

You looked at him and nodded.

“Respect,” he said. He extended his fist and you gave him a fist bump, and you smiled.

Out of nowhere, Jay gave you a back hug and rested his head on your shoulder. “Guys, can I talk to y/n alone for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course. Take your time,” said Heeseung. At that, the boys left the practice room, leaving you and Jay alone.

“You really did that for me?” he said softly.

“Of course,” you said without hesitation as you turned to look at him. “That’s what friends are for. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw all those comments. That moment was priceless. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

“I suppose so.” You noticed that Jay’s voice was a bit shaky. Then you realized why when you saw tears roll down his face.

“Jay-ah, why are you crying?” you said as you wiped his tears away.

“It’s my fault your Tiktok got taken away,” he said regrettfully. “I remember how excited you would get when you made a new friend on there. I really took away your greatest joy.”

“No you didn’t, Jay. I got my Tiktok taken away because I broke a rule,” you assured him.

“But you wouldn’t have had to if I-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupted. “You’re being too loud. I don't listen to Jay slander.”

Jay laughed a little and tried to hide his smile by looking away. “I see you smiling, Jay, don't try to hide it,” you said playfully.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are!”

“Okay, you got me,” Jay said as he pulled you in for a hug. “You best believe I’m going to bug Mrs. Choi until she lets you have your account back.”

“You can try, but don't be surprised when it doesn’t work.”

“It will. I’m her favorite, so she’ll have to listen to me,” Jay said confidently.

“Boy, since when are you her favorite?”

“Since forever.”

“You wish.”

“No, you wish.”

~~~

Two weeks later, you knocked on the door of Mrs. Choi’s office.

“Come in,” she said.

You walked through the door and bowed.

“You needed to see me?” you said. She was sitting in her desk and she didn’t look at you.

“Yeah,” she said. “Take a seat.”

You did as she said. Her eyes were still glued to the computer and she was typing something. You were worried because you had no idea what she was about to say, so you sat there nervously as your hands started to sweat.

Finally Mrs. Choi looked away her computer and turned to face you. She took a deep breath and said, “I regret to inform you that I’m allowing you back on your Tiktok account.”

“Regret to inform you”? You wanted to ask why she would regret that, but you didn’t want to say anything that might change her mind, so you simply said, “Thank you.”

She turned back to typing on her computer. “You should be grateful your friend is so annoying. Jay would not leave me alone until I agreed to let you have it back.”

“Oh,” you said. You had completely forgotten that Jay had said he would do that.

“Know this: you are on very, very, very thin ice. One more slip-up and it's over, no matter how much your friends annoy me. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. That’s all I have to say to you. Go back to whatever you were doing, and don't you dare forget what I said.”

Standing up to leave, you said, “I won’t. Thank you, Mrs. Choi.” You bowed once again and left her office.

Once you closed the door behind you, the first thing you saw was Jay across from you in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

“I told you it would work.”

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen timestamps #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen scenarios #enhypen writers #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay x reader #kpop #enhypen angst #enhyphen #belift

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watermelonlipstick · 4 years ago

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Dreams, Chapter 4

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

If you have been reading this series....things are going to start happening....

Title: Dreams, Chapter 4

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3773

Summary: For Sam and the reader, a winter night working together leads to an uncomfortable confrontation and a confusing dream.

Warnings: angst, fluff?, alcohol, swearing, slow burn, I think that’s it!

The tree was still up a few days later when you were throwing together sandwiches. It was a gloomy afternoon, stealing from the already meager offering of sunlight you got each day, but at least you could see the Christmas lights as you worked in the little kitchen and listened to Me Talk Pretty One Day. Brushing crumbs off your hands, you ducked your head into the bedroom to tell Sam lunch was ready.

He was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed under him, looking surprisingly young with his long limbs folded. He glanced over at you briefly with a noncommittal nod before turning his gaze back to the wall. You walked into the room when you understood; following his eyes to the photos where you’d taped them up. Toeing off each of your boots, you climbed onto the mattress with him and gently put your arm around his broad shoulders. “He would’ve loved this,” Sam murmured, and it was almost too low for you to hear.

“Which part?” you asked, trying to match his tone.

“This cabin, the bar, Christmas.”

“I think you’re right.”

You looked over at the pictures, a tight row intentionally placed a little too low so you could see them as you fell asleep. Sam tilted his head to rest on yours.

“We had a lot of fun though, didn’t we?”

You considered the memories and the heat coming off of him under your cold fingers. “Yeah, we did.” After a beat you opened your mouth again. “Getting that tree was fun.”

Sam pulled back and you looked up at him. A sad smirk was tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”

You curved your head back into him. “Dean would’ve liked that too.” He was silent for a moment.

“There’s no way he would’ve worked at the bar and not made every night a party.”

He was right. Even just passing through, bars like the one you worked at were Dean’s favorite—no frills, honest people, décor not so nice it couldn’t tolerate some spills in the name of a good time. In the right mood Dean would’ve been everyone’s best friend in an hour, taking shots with the owners and playing pool with anyone who had a spare minute.

You sat upright and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay, then tonight’ll be a party.”

Sam looked at you in surprise. “Uh, what?”

“You heard me. Tonight, we’re doing tequila shots and dancing on tables and talking to people longer than to take their orders.”

“It’s a Monday.”

“Wouldn’t have stopped Dean. Now come eat this sandwich I slaved over, you’re a lightweight on an empty stomach.”

Sam’s smile was tired, but he obediently untangled his legs and got off the bed to head to the kitchen. You padded after him, letting a deep breath out through your nose. Dean would be so pissed if he saw you weren’t being strong for Sammy, just a little tougher, come on. By the time Sam sat down at the tiny breakfast bar to eat, you’d screwed your face back together.

In some ways, it was better that you’d had this sudden change of heart on a Monday, when there weren’t so many customers to watch you crumble if it came to that. You had a propensity for being a sad drunk even in the best circumstances, and this first time truly drinking around people since losing Dean was about the worst circumstance as you could imagine.

A few shots in Sam’s cheeks were flushed and you could feel the heat in yours as you sucked hard on a lime wedge. He was pretending to know about some football controversy with the over-shoulder towel that was ever present when he worked, his legs crossed and accentuating the long, relaxed line of his body. It was an especially cold night and condensation clouded the windows of the bar where hot air met the freezing glass. You watched as a woman about your age—you were pretty sure her name was Megan but had only served her a handful of times—traced lazy shapes in it before replacing the moisture with a hot breath and starting over. It was almost hypnotic and you didn’t know how long it was until you snapped back to reality when Sam’s warm hands wrapped over your shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, low and private, straight into your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you lied.

Sam gently and half-consciously kneaded the muscles in your shoulders. Before you realized what you were doing, muscle memory bobbed your head to the side, kissed his rough knuckles, and pressed your cheek to his hand. You both froze.

“Aw, so cute,” Steve sang out from across the bar top.

You took your chance to step forward out of Sam’s grip. “Yeah, yeah. Refill?” Steve nodded, and you snatched another Miller High Life out of a mini fridge under the bar and popped the cap with a fluid practiced motion. About a week ago you’d realized that the twist-bottle callus you had just below the first joint of your index finger had come back, a recurrent souvenir that had lasted years after you’d quit bartending last time. You were thankful for it as much as the distraction from your bizarre reflexive step over the unspoken boundary between you and Sam. It wasn’t that the contact was unprecedented, obviously, you could only catch even chunks of sleep tightly wound around Sam and kept your fingers wrapped around his forearm as he drove, but Dean was the last person whose skin your lips had touched. Until now, you corrected yourself. It was a very specific kind of closeness in a relationship already stretching the limits of what appropriate intimacy could possibly be.

You jammed a cold metal scoop into the ice machine to break up chunks and buy some time. The same grief-hungry part of your brain that searched Sam for facial tics and habits that Dean had couldn’t stop repeating how much those hands felt the same, dry and warm and firm under your lips, under your cheek, and you wanted to clutch at them, a phantom of Dean’s that first stitched you up in Bobby’s kitchen all those years ago when life was easy and bloody, so nervous to touch you his hands shook and the scar still remained to this day. You crashed through those thoughts with a solid thump of This Is Sam Not Dean Sam Your Friend Sam The Only Thing You Have In This World, and how cruel it was to triple distill him down to only the parts that were reminiscent of someone else. Sam, who chopped wood to keep you warm, who restocked beer in the little life you’d created here. Sam, who in his own unfathomable sadness let you latch onto him as a steady point in a storm and kept you afloat just as you had him.

“Hello?” Joe repeated, a touch of concern peeking through his annoyance.

“Yeah, sorry! What’s up?” you asked, hearing the shrillness of your voice as you tried to overcompensate.

“I’m trying to buy you a drink, hon. 5 shots, dealer’s choice.”

“You, me, Jake, Steve and who?” you asked, racking up 5 sturdy shot glasses.

“Your Paul Bunyan over there, unless you’re trying to take his too. I’ve never seen you guys really drink before, gotta jump on my chance,” he winked.

“Oh, okay. Uh, Sam—” you called out across the bar. He was wiping up a spill you knew didn’t exist from the way he focused too hard on the bar top, trying to look busy. He looked up at his name and walked over with his hands jammed in his pockets. His unease was palpable, and your heart sank as you let go of any possibility that he wouldn’t have registered the fleeting kiss and the shift was only in your head. “—Joe’s trying to get you drunk.”

“Careful, Joe, you think you can carry me home?” Sam joked, and you thought you would be the only one who’d be able to detect the tightness in his throat underneath it. He rubbed a lime wedge on the web of his thumb and poured salt over it before handing you the shaker. You almost dropped it when your fingertips grazed his.

“To the only people dumb enough to move up here in the winter,” Steve proclaimed, touching his glass to the counter before shooting it. You all followed suit, politely chuckling at the teasing. When you took the lime wedge out of your mouth, Sam had his palm open in front of you. You dropped the rind in his hand and let him take the stack of glasses to the sink.

It didn’t get as crazy as Dean likely would’ve gotten which was probably good for the bar’s bottom line and your drive back to the cabin, but Sam did end up somewhat accidentally hustling Jake for $100 over a game of pool and singing along to Shania Twain when you put it on. You were careful not to touch him or stare too long the rest of the evening, and by the time you were flipping chairs up for the night you had almost convinced yourself that nothing was different save for a little softness around the edges of the ever-present bolus of sadness in your stomach.

Sam had two cases of Miller Lite from the basement in his grip, the veins on his forearms popping out as he set them on the ground in front of the beer cooler and crouched to replace the ones that had been drunk that night. You double checked that the cash drawer of the register was even and hopped up to sit on a spare spot of counter.

“That’s the last one?”

“Yeah, I already did the Coors and Bud.”

“Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” You wiggled your toes in your shoes, feeling the ache of standing for hours in the balls of your feet.

“No, I’m good to drive,” Sam said, shaking hair out of his face. He looked up at you, hazel eyes hard to read with fatigue or fear or pity or some murky combination thereof. You drew tight spirals over orders you’d taken that night, feeling the pen press impressions into the small notepad. The absence of words spread out to close the distance between you, feeling cloying and claustrophobic even as the Nate Bargatze standup you’d cued up piped out through the bar’s speakers.

“Hey, I—”

“Are you—” Sam started at the same time. You held out a palm to signal for him to continue, not truly wanting to speak yourself. “Uh, sorry. I just…I—I’m not Dean. I can’t be Dean.”

The words and deflation in his shoulders made you wish you’d been set ablaze. Stunned, you felt your mouth open and close around words that weren’t materializing, just collecting in your throat and hardening there, the backup starting to choke you.

“I, uh—I know,” you finally managed to squeak past the lump.

And part of you wondered if he was right in thinking you were using him as a stand-in. As atypical as the whole situation was, you couldn’t imagine that it was normal to sleep in the same bed and spend virtually every minute together. You began to feel sick at the thought that Sam would be out living up to his potential somewhere if it weren’t for you, back to law school or righting the wrongs of the world rather than in a Northwoods dive bar restocking domestic beers at 2:30 on a Tuesday morning. The selflessness of it seemed unfathomable and yet so entirely something Sam would do. Suddenly it felt like the walls were collapsing around you.

The moment stretched out and Sam stood up, leaning on the counter across the bar from you. His jaw was set hard and he tilted his head the way he did when he was trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge of tears. “Sam, I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He cleared his throat but looked down at the nonstick mats on the floor. “No, ah, you don’t need to apologize. I just need you to know I can’t be him for you.”

You didn’t dare look up in case you met Sam’s eyes as you nodded, so eviscerated and humiliated you were having a hard time taking a deep breath. After a long minute you heard the clink of bottles as Sam finished restocking, grabbed your coat to mumble something about warming up the car, and went to the small parking lot. You managed to make it into the Impala before your vision started swimming and the potential enormity of the situation crashed against you; was this the end of your carved out hideaway, full of grief and memories and comfort and little moments of affection and joy you had just barely started to accept? All for some stupid thought that Dean would be happier if you were out getting wasted, an idea that reduced him to a drifter barfly instead of the complex man who’d been more loyal and loved more deeply than anyone you’d ever met. The tears dried up quickly as self-disgust rolled over you and started ringing in your ears. You didn’t hear Sam coming and jolted when he opened the door, recoiling against the passenger side to give him as much space as possible. He glanced over at you with eyes so pitying that you couldn’t bear to look at them, staring out the window at the abject darkness the rest of the drive home.

Sam didn’t turn on the stereo.

Back in the cabin, you quickly shucked off your coat and snatched what you needed out of the bedroom before barricading yourself in for a shower. You didn’t bother taking your makeup off first, allowing the sting of mascara to get washed away in the water. It was too hot and you didn’t care; you only came out when you realized you were going to leave Sam in a cold shower in the last week in December.

You brushed your teeth in the mirror and took a few deep breaths before sliding out, heading past the open bedroom door straight to the kitchen in order to gulp down a panicked glass of water. Mercifully, you heard the bathroom door lock when Sam entered it quietly. You took the opportunity to grab your pillow out of the bedroom, tossing it on the couch and pulling the throw off the sofa’s back to cover yourself. Your eyes were closed tight and ramming up against your racing mind when Sam came out.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he said softly from behind you.

You opened your eyes but didn’t move your head to seek him out. “It’s okay.”

Sam appeared in front of you, legs bending severely to perch on the short coffee table. His bare chest still glistened a little from the shower and you knew the green flannel pants he was wearing were soft and thick to the touch. Earnest hazel eyes meeting yours, Sam braced his elbows on his knees.

“Sam, I’m really sorry. It was a weird reflex and it was unfair for me to—”

“No, I, it—it wasn’t that. It’s just like, sometimes when you look at me, you look like you’re seeing a ghost. I’m just—I need to know you’re not staying here because I’m the closest you can get.”

If your heart hadn’t been shattered and re-shattered over the last almost- two-years and today, the fear and resignation in his eyes would’ve sent you to pieces. You pushed up to sitting in order to give Sam the respect he deserved.

“I can’t—I won’t lie and say you don’t remind me of him, but you’re my best friend—been my best friend since I first met you guys—and I am so, so, sorry I made you feel…I could never try to replace him, Sam.” You were barely making sense, having a hard time stringing together how you felt. “The only place I want to be is with you. You’re all I’ve got.”

It felt desperate and needy but it was true and Sam deserved the truth. You didn’t shy away from him, stayed there holding his gaze until he seemed content having searched your eyes for anything hiding from the light. After a moment he nodded tightly against lips pressed in a firm line. “Okay.”

Sam stood up, the broad planes of him catching the glitter of the Christmas tree lights. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and tentative. “Can you, uh, can you come back?”

It took a moment to process before you nodded, standing up and snagging your pillow before following Sam into the bedroom. You climbed into your side of the mattress, close to the wall and your tiny precious gallery, and Sam folded around you, his warm skin seeping through your t-shirt onto your back. You felt tense and comfortable all at once, safe and uneasy. The two of you sat there for a long time, the relatively light weight of Sam’s arm over you betraying that he wasn’t asleep either. When drowsiness finally began to tug your eyelids closed, he pressed his lips to a spot on your shoulder exposed from the looseness of its sleeve. The last thing you remembered was his arm going heavy like an anchor across yours.

The sun is hot and delicious on your cheeks, baking the cotton of your jeans and t-shirt into you and turning the roof tiles under you into a frying pan. Wispy clouds move with no urgency across the sky above you and you can’t think of anything better than this, glancing down to worn laces on Dean’s boots undone to give his feet some air as his t-shirt clings half-humid to him. You know his freckles are going to be darker by dinner and it makes you smile to think about it but you’ll never tell him—it makes him shy to be reminded of the spray of pigment that makes him feel alternatively feminine or juvenile but never stunning the way you think it should. You press up to your elbows, barely registering the sting of heat and grit of the roof underneath you and kiss the spot on Dean’s arm where his shoulder slopes into his bicep. He smiles down at you, a lazy half-open smirk perfectly framed by the blue sky behind him like a painting.

“You’re so weird,” he chuckles. “Who kisses someone’s arm?”

“Then come down here,” you toss back, exaggerated pout ready for him. He ducks down to you, the warmth of his lips on yours like a cookie fresh out of the oven, like sliding down the hallway on new fuzzy socks, like the summer’s first plunge into water.

Sam’s head peeks out from under the gutter. “Bobby’s putting brats on the grill, do you want any?”

“Hell yeah, extra onions,” Dean yells down, grinning smugly when you make a face.

“Me too!” you call out, watching Sam squint up at the roof.

“No onions though, right?”

“You’re the best, Sam.”

Sam beams up at you, dimples almost high enough to reach the squint-crinkled skin around his eyes. He nods and ducks back out of sight.

“Come on, I’m thirsty,” Dean says, standing up. He reaches a hand down to you and takes a half step back to brace himself, stepping on the lace of his other boot. He stumbles and it’s a quick shuffle and you realize he’s too close to the edge his next step is into thin air like Wil E. Coyote and you’re grabbing at that same thin air and you can see his face change when he realizes and some part of your subconscious that’s even deeper than this can feel it’s happening again and the sound is so final, such a wet crack but you scrabble to the edge anyway because you have to see and Dean’s lying there.

He’s clutching his left leg bent against his chest like a stretch. “Son of a bitch, what the fuck!” he mutter-yells, and you hear the thump of Sam and Bobby running through the old house and skittering to a stop in front of him as you carefully shimmy down the porch post with your hands tearing on the gutter’s rusty edge, jumping down when you feel the railing beneath you.

“Dean! Are you okay?” Sam yells over Bobby who’s cursing out the goddamn idjit told you not to climb up there it’s like having a bunch of teenagers in this goddamned house and Dean winces and nods angrily.

You’re lifting up the hem of his jeans and gingerly taking off his boot and Dean hisses when you peel off his sock, but nothing is poking through the skin and that’s better than you expected. “Can you stand up?”

He nods again and you can practically taste him biting back the string of expletives when you and Sam each take an arm and lift him to standing. You snake a hand into his pocket and grab the keys to the Impala, leaning behind Dean to say to his brother, “I’ll take him to the ER.”

Dean doesn’t argue and it’s yet more evidence that it’s pretty bad, but you feel fine, elated almost, that he’s still warm under your palm and against your side, that he still smells like fresh laundry and domestic beer and a little bit of salt and engine grease. Sam’s long arm opens the door when you get there and slides Dean in and you promise to text when you know how bad it is as you round the car and get to the driver’s side. You turn the key in the ignition and throw your arm around Dean’s seat to reverse out of the driveway. Dean’s looking at you as you throw the car back into drive, staring almost, and his face is soft even around the broken ankle.

“I’m always going to love you,” he says, smooth and sure of himself. You tug your eyes away from the road with half a question on your face but Dean doesn’t explain why he’s saying this now. “I’ll be okay and I’m always going to love you, no matter what.”

It doesn’t make any sense and you open your mouth to tease this unexpected sappiness, remind him the ankle is just one more in a long string of injuries he’ll owe you for, and then Dean’s gone, the car’s gone, and the heat is coming from Sam’s chest in front of you.

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 5

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hankwritten · 3 years ago

Text

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

#dnadprideweek2021 #engiespy #tf2 fanfiction

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radiantroope · 4 years ago

Text

Something More || Topper Thornton

pairing: topper x reader

mentions: the pogues, rafe, kelce

requested: yes; anon asked “hi! can i make a request for a topper imagine. something like after sarah breaks his heart and you try to be there for him even though you’re a pogue so he’s an ass at first but then he just wants someone to listen to him and eventually he’s all crazy for you. fluffy? maybe a little smutty?”

warnings: angry!topper, verbal abuse(?), slight violence, angst, swearing, fluffy soft topper, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT AT THE END, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), spanking

author’s note: this is unedited because it’s long as hell and i’m lazy but yeah, hope you enjoy🤪 i also think i went a little off from the request but i tried to keep it as close as possible!

masterlist | add yourself to my tag list

* this is not my gif! if it’s yours, please let me know so i can give you proper credit!!

You were at work when your phone started ringing in the break room. You were sat at a table, munching on a salad for lunch. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw Kiara’s name across the top. The Pogues and you had an agreement not to call each other work unless it was important. You slid your finger across the bottom to answer and swallowed your bite of food.

“Kie? Everything okay?” you said as you held the phone to your ear.

“No everything is not okay!” she exclaimed loudly on the other end. You pulled the phone away from your ear in shock before bringing it back. “John B just brought Sarah Cameron over here. They’ve been macking behind our backs and he lied about it!”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you dropped the plastic fork into your bowl. Topper and Sarah had just gone to Midsummers together. You’d just seen them at the country club the other day because, as fate would have it, they got sat in your section. You had to watch them disgustingly flirt across the table the whole time you tried to wait on them.

“She was cheating on Topper?” you more so stated than asked in realization.

“Yes! He broke the most sacred rule, Y/N. Pogues don’t lie to other Pogues!” she shouted. You understood that she was more concerned with their friendgroup, but your mind traveled elsewhere.

You remembered seeing Topper arrive at the club shortly before you went on break. He met up with Kelce and Rafe to golf for the day. You needed to talk to him - make sure he was okay. He was supposed to be your sworn enemy by most standards, but you hated that damn rivalry. You didn’t understand why you all just couldn’t get along.

“I’ll deal with John B later,” you reassured the raging girl on the other end of the phone. Being one year older than them all, you’d been made honorary ‘mom friend’ of the group. You typically handled drama amongst the teenagers. “I gotta go, Kie. I’ll call you when I get off.”

Kiara bid you goodbye and you quickly hung up. You stood from the table and tossed the rest of your salad in the trash; it wasn’t that great anyway. You exited the break room and made your way to the dining area of the club. It was fairly empty, only a few tables occupied by club members. You spotted the back of a frosted tipped head at the bar and made your way over to him.

Topper was getting a few beers for him and the guys before they headed out on the course for the day. No one ID’d him, of course. The members of the club paid enough money to oversee this type of thing. Everyone just looked the other way.

“Hey, Topper, can I talk to you?” you asked as you came to his side.

He glanced at you with a furrowed brow and scoffed, turing back to the bartender, “Do I have a choice?”

You ignored the question and way he tried to brush you off. You shifted your weight on your feet and said, “I heard about Sarah. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

Topper froze completely in his spot. He knew word was going to get around eventually, it was inevitable and obvious. Though, he wasn’t expecting you to walk right up to him and say something about it - putting salt in an open wound. He slowly turned to look at you with a stone cold expression on his face.

“Why would you ask me that?” he practically growled, handing shooting out and gripping harshly onto your upper arm. “Did you come over here to gloat? Make fun of me? Rub it in my face that your little friend’s been hoeing around with my girl?”

“No I-” you winced as Topper squeezed your arm harder, “Topper you’re hurting me.”

The tall Kook released your arm, realization crossing his face but it was quickly replaced with a scowl again. The bartender put the beers on the bar and he practically threw the cash across the bar at him. He grabbed the beverages and turned to you again.

“I have your job in the palm of my hand, Y/N, don’t ever talk to me about that again,” Topper spat before walking away.

You had a frown etched into your features as you watched the blonde go. Your hand massaged the spot he’d grabbed subconsciously. When he was out of sight you dropped your hand to your side and sulked back to the break room. You were going to spend the fifteen minutes left of your break wishing you’d just kept your mouth shut.

•

The next time you saw Topper was at a Boneyard kegger. You hadn’t seen him at the club since that day. You hoped you never did. You desperately needed that job to keep you and your mom on your feet. You’d never be able to find another job that paid that well, especially if your boss spread word that you messed with the Thornton boy.

You made your way towards the kegs for a refill when a group of guys turned with freshly filled cups. You’d had your eyes cast downward on your feet as you tried not to trip in the sand. You nearly ran into someone’s chest when you looked up into the face of the boy you were trying to avoid.

“T-Topper,” you stuttered, taking a step back when you realized how close you were. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” Rafe snickered to your left, sauntering off with Kelce somewhere. Probably to find their next innocent and oblivious hookup to add to the notch on their belts.

You ignored the self proclaimed ‘Kook King’ and stared up at Topper. His jaw was set as he stared down at you. His eyes were swimming with something you couldn’t pin point. Regret? Guilt, maybe?

“You come over here to try and get me to talk about my feelings again?” he mumbled, raising the cup to his lips to take a large drink.

“No.. I just- Look Top, I’m sorry.”

Topper scoffed and rolled his eyes. His shoulder bumped yours as he walked past, but not before adding, “Stay the hell away from me.”

Pope, who’d been at the kegs handing out beers, came to your side immediately upon seeing you frown. The two of you watched the boy make his way to his friends and other Kooks.

“You okay?” the dark skinned boy asked, now looking down at you.

“Yeah.. Yeah, I’m fine,” you forced a smile to your lips and handed your empty cup over to be filled.

Unbeknownst to you, Topper watched you all night. He didn’t understand why you cared. He didn’t understand how you could still be so nice to him with the way him and his friends treated you and your friends. It was frustrating, really, this feeling in his chest that was pulling him towards you. Something about the way you looked at him, the way you were soft spoken but strong willed at the same time. He couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to let you in.

•

It was a gorgeous morning. The sun had just completely revealed itself from the horizon, not a cloud in the sky. The waves were especially good. That’s how you found yourself down at the beach on Figure Eight. Their beaches weren’t as crowded since, let’s face it, the Kooks didn’t give a damn about surfing. You had a whole mile stretch to yourself. The only people you saw were a few joggers and dog walkers.

Your surf board glided through the waves effortlessly. You practiced some of the tricks JJ had been teaching you, nearly losing balance a handful of times. One wave took you by surprise and you tumbled through the water. You came up for air, choking on sea water, lungs burning. You could feel your muscles screaming at you despite the saltwater making your body feel exceptionally light.

You climbed back up onto your board, wiping your eyes and try and rid them of the burning sensation. You blinked away the mix of tears and seawater, looking towards the beach when you saw a familiar frosted tipped head. He stood shirtless, arms by his sides as he stared at you - a small smile on his lips that you couldn’t see from so far away.

As you slid onto your stomach and began paddling back to shore, you were half expecting Topper to leave. You were surprised when he didn’t, instead walking closer to you as the waves crashed around your legs when you stood.

“Didn’t know you were so good at that,” it was a half-assed compliment, but you still smiled.

“You wouldn’t know, it’s a Pogue sport,” you teased breathlessly.

Topper rolled his eyes, this time playfully as a smile again tugged at his lips. He watched as you stuck your board in the sand and undid the ankle strap. You sat down to take some relief off your aching legs and leant back against your palms.

“What’re you doing on this side of town?” he asked as he came down to sit beside you, keeping a good amount of distance between the two of you.

“The beach is less crowded over here. It’s easier to surf without worrying about getting run over by someone else,” you replied, looking over at the dirty blonde.

Topper’s skin was glistening with sweat and his muscles looked taught - not that you were paying attention. You figured he’d been on a run before stopping to talk to you. Only God knows why after the way he’d been treating you.

“You know, I didn’t mean the things I said to you,” his voice was softer now. His blue eyes met yours for a moment before he was looking back out at the water. “I guess.. I was just so angry at Sarah and John B. You’re his friend so I took my anger out on you.”

“Apology accepted,” you replied with a smile, even though he hadn’t outright said he was sorry. Topper’s gaze locked on yours and a genuine smile crossed his lips.

The two of you sat on the beach for hours, time slipping away from you as you talked. He opened up to you about Sarah and how heartbroken he was. He told you how his attachment to her was unhealthy and he wasn’t even sure if he was truly happy with her. He told you how he’s just ready to move on and figure out what real love is.

He opened up about his mom and how she expected so much from him. You realized the boy boy had a lot of pressure on him. He was going through more than a lot of people knew about, even his own friends. But you noticed how he sat up straighter and seemed more relaxed the more he talked. He was smiling and laughing with you, something you never thought you’d be able to say. You saw a twinkle in his eye that hadn’t been there before and it made your heart swell.

•

You and Topper had been hanging out quite regularly. He’d meet up with you after you got off work and you’d grab lunch or take a walk on the beach if it was late. You’d take long drives on your days off, windows down with music playing softly as you talked about everything - or nothing at all. He’d even helped your mom fix her car when it broke down on her way to work. It surprised you that he even knew anything about cars, thinking he just threw money at someone to fix whatever problem he had.

The Pogues didn’t know about your newfound friendship with the Kook. They assumed you were busy with work and your mom. Occasionally you had to pick up some extra shifts so your absence was nothing new to them.

The Kooks heard you’d been hanging around with Topper but no one had really seen it with their own eyes. They were whispers of gossip in the dark started by older folks seeing the two of you at the club or on the beach. Rafe had tried to ask his best friend about it but was brushed off as if he didn’t know what he was talking about.

When you showed up at the Boneyard for - yes, another party - with the blue eyed boy, everyone’s attention was on you. You were linked arm in arm as you treaded the sand down to the crowd of people. The whispers and quiet murmurs started. It was eerily quiet - those parties were never quiet.

The Pogues were by the kegs, staring wide eyed and mouth opened at the two of you. You could practically feel the uncomfort coming from John B and Sarah. If looks could kill, Rafe would have killed you both, Kelce stood beside him with his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“Well this couldn’t be any more awkward,” Topper muttered, trying to stifle a laugh.

“It was your idea to come together,” you whispered back, glancing over at your friends, “They’re looking at me like I just killed their puppy.”

The two of you erupted into a fit of giggles, making your way to the kegs. Pope filled up a cup and hesitated as he handed it over to Topper. You kept the smile on your face as you looked between the Pogues. You took the next cup and took a sip as the tall boy unlinked his arm from yours.

“I’m gonna go talk to Rafe before he has an aneurysm,” he muttered in your ear, hand lingering on your lower back.

You hummed in response and nodded, watching him walk over to the Kooks before you turned back to your friends. Still, they were staring at you. Mixed looks of surprise, disapproval and betrayal.

“What the hell was that?” JJ was the first to open his mouth.

You shrugged a bit and smiled around the rim of your cup as you took another sip of the bitter liquid.

Kiara sat herself on one of the kegs and added, “Dont play coy with us, Y/L/N. What’s going on?”

“We’re just hanging out! It’s not a big deal,” you exasperated, free hand slapping against your thigh after you threw it up.

“You’re fucking Topper now?” John B asked, standing behind JJ with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s why you’ve been so MIA lately?”

You turned to the curly haired brunette and raised an eyebrow. A sarcastic smile painted itself across your lips and you tilted your head. “I don’t think you have much room to talk, do you? We’re not fucking. Don’t be an asshole,” you retorted.

A silence fell over your group, an uncomfortable one. You weren’t one to talk to friends in such a way but they’d backed you into a corner. They were trying to interrogate you, but John B was also running around with a Kook and even helped her cheat. You weren’t going to let them judge your choices when they weren’t much better.

As soon as Topper walked up to his friends, Rafe couldn’t help the words flying from his mouth, “So you hang out with Pogues now?”

The shorter male scoffed and shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He brought the cup he was holding up to his lips to keep himself from spewing a harsh remark in return.

“I mean, if you’re just fucking her, it’s cool bro, do what you want. But you two sure did seem coupled up. You don’t want some Pogue slut ruining your reputation, Top-”

“Don’t talk about her like that, man,” Topper snapped, staring his friend in the eye. Rafe raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. Kelce stood awkwardly to the side, not wanting to include himself or pick sides between his friends.

“She’s not a slut and she’s not just some Pogue,” Topper continued to defend you, turning to look over his shoulder at you. He could tell your discussion with the Pogues was heated by the way you were talking with your hand and the clench of your jaw. “She’s a cool girl. She takes care of her shit and doesn’t let people’s opinions of her, change how she carries herself. Maybe if you actually got to know her instead of judging where she came from, you’d see that too,” he continued, looking at Rafe again.

The brunette Kook held his hands up defensively and muttered something like okay man, whatever. Topper turned to look at you once more, catching your gaze. You sent him a small smile and a single nod. He did the same. Despite how your friend’s felt from both sides, the two of you didn’t care. You were like two magnets being drawn together, a feeling neither of you had ever experienced before.

•

Your shift had just ended and walked out the doors to see the familiar Jeep parked out by the curb. You smiled and walked over, pulling the passenger side door open and climbing into the vehicle. Your hair had started to fall out of the ponytail you were wearing and you probably smelt of all the food you’d been handling all day. You rubbed a hand over your face tiredly and leant back in the seat.

Topper sat in the driver’s seat, taking a moment to stare at you before driving away. He had a small smile on his face when your eyes met. You let out a soft laugh and covered your face with your hand, mumbling, “What?”

The Kook shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat up at being caught. He bit the inside of his bottom lip as he pulled the car away from the curb and started driving. You turned to look out the window and noticed he was taking you farther into Figure Eight instead of the usual way to your house.

“Where are we going?” you asked and turned to look at him again. The sun was setting and casting a beautiful glow over Topper’s face. His tan skin being illuminated by the orange light made his eyes impossibly bluer.

“My mom’s on the mainland for work so I figured we could hang at my place,” he responded, glancing over at you. “If that’s okay! I didn’t even ask.”

You hummed and nodded, eyes drifting back out to the houses flying by. You’d only been to Topper’s house one other time since you’d started hanging out. You knew what it looked like though. The Pogues liked to crash house parties often and his had been one of them many times.

You arrived at the large house fairly quickly and Topper let you inside. You kicked off your work shoes by the door and followed him up the staircase. He opened his bedroom door and walked in ahead of you, quickly picking up some of his discarded clothes and tossing them in his hamper in the corner. The room was very minimalistic and tidy, probably his mother’s doing.

You walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the sea foam green colored duvet. He wiped the palms of his hands on his shorts and turned to you. Your hands were clasped together in your lap as your eyes traveled around the room. You looked so tiny compared to the large mattress and he could tell you were a bit uncomfortable - not wanting to dirty his space.

“You can take a shower. I know you probably want to,” Topper suggested, walking across the room and opening the door to his attached bathroom.

“Oh I- uh, I don’t have any clothes.”

Topper waved his hand in dismissal and opened up the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulled out a pair of old basket shorts and a t-shirt. He put them on the counter in the bathroom and turned to you with a raised brow.

“I guess I don’t have an excuse now, huh?” you chuckled and stood up, entering the large bathroom.

“If you need anything just gimme me a shout,” he told you with a smile before stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door.

You turned on the shower and got it to the right temperature, taking off your clothes and slipping under the stream of water. You let out a content sigh and basked in the warmth for a minute. The water pressure was so much better than what you got on the South side.

You quickly washed your hair with some of his shampoo and shockingly, conditioner. Most boys wouldn’t have that product. His body wash was sandlewood scented and you used your hands to clean your sweaty skin. You took an extra minute to make sure you were rinsed completely before turning off the water.

You grabbed a towel and thoroughly dried your body before stepping out and slipping on Topper’s shorts. They were big on you but thankfully didn’t fall off your hips. You slipped his shirt over your head and smiled softly as his scent swirled around you. You skipped out on undergarments - considering you didn’t have fresh ones, but you were comfortable enough around the Thornton boy to go without.

You opened the door while towel drying your hair and found Topper sat against his headboard. He’d changed into a pair of grey sweatpants and one of his old Kook Academy t-shirts. He was scrolling through Netflix, trying to find a good movie to put on when his eyes traveled to you. His breath hitched at the sight of you in his clothes, wet hair dampening the maroon colored material.

It’s as if his eyes were glued to your body, frozen on the bed with the remote clasped tightly in his hands. You tossed the towel into Topper’s hamper and made your way to the bed. His gaze was still on you as you stopped at the end and you chuckled.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you teased, climbing up onto the bed and crawling towards the pillows.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You were still on your hands and knees when you looked to the tan boy. He was staring back at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes were a darker, stormy blue. His eyes flickered between yours as he had an internal battle with himself. They drifted to your lips as you pulled your bottom one between your teeth.

“Can I kiss you?” Topper’s voice was softer now, eyes meeting yours once again.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you replied through a grin and shuffled closer to him.

The Kook’s hands dropped the remote, one finding the back of your neck and the other meeting your waist. Your lips met awkwardly at first, noses bumping. You pulled back with a soft laugh and tilted your head, leaning in slowly this time. The kiss was soft and tentative. Your lips moved together in synchronized motions.

Topper’s hands pulled you closer until you were sitting on his lap. The room was heating up by the second as your hands roamed the toned planes of his chest over his shirt. You tongue swiped at his lips while tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His large hands wrapped around your hips before sliding up and feeling at your waist.

You hadn’t realized you’d started to grind down against the Thornton boy until you shifted and made contact with his half hard cock. He gasped into your mouth and pulled away from your lips. His pupils were blown wide and his cheeks were pink. You looked something similar, lips swollen from the pressure of his against yours. He had grabbed onto your hips tightly and held them while his chest moved with his soft pants.

“Y/N..” Topper hesitated. He didn’t want you to feel like this is all he wanted. The two of you had spent so much time together, he felt so stupid to shut the idea of being with you down all those times just because you were a Pogue. You knew him better than his own mother at this point. You helped him get over Sarah and learn to love himself again - and in turn, start to fall in love with you. He didn’t want you to feel like his rebound or a fling. He wanted you; all of you.

Your read Topper’s thoughts through his eyes, feeling your heart swell. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks and bent down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Your mouth trailed down his jaw until your soft breath was at his ear, making a shiver run down his spine.

“I want you, Topper,” you whispered, a hint of desperation laced in your tone.

The sound of you saying those words alone had his cock fully erect. A low growl sounded in his chest when you ground your hips against him once again. He flipped the two of you, your head nestled in the pillows as he hovered over you. Your legs were bent at the knees at both sides of his hips and his pressed his length against your clothed heat. You mewled at the touch, fingers sliding into the frosted tips of his hair.

He dipped his head and attached his lips to your neck, sucking dark marks into your delicate skin. Your head tilted to him better access fingers tugging as his soft locks as he found your sweet spot. Topper groaned softly, one hand sliding under your - his - shirt. His thumb and pointer finger rolled your perked nipple, causing your back to arch.

“Stop teasing,” you whined as he lifted his head and smirked down at you.

“Patience, babygirl,” Topper muttered, pushing himself up onto his knees. He pulled his shirt off your body and hummed as he took in the sight of your exposed chest.

The obvious tent in sweatpants made your mouth water. You reached down and wrapped your hand around his clothed cock, palming him through the garnments. He let out a strangled groan as he twitched in your hand. He quickly ripped off his own shirt, giving you a chance to admire his muscular body as he worked on getting your shorts off.

Topper couldn’t hold back anymore. He’d been longing for this moment since he realized his feelings for Sarah had diminished. You’d been waiting for this moment since he apologized at the club. You’d always found him attractive and as the two of you got closer, your feelings for him only intensified.

“You’re already wet and I’ve barely started,” he breathed as he spread your legs open for him and admired your glistening pussy.

You bit your lip and tried to get Topper’s sweatpants down his legs but from your angle, it was almost impossible. You huffed in frustration and laid back against the pillows.

“Topper, I’ve been waiting for this for too long. Please, take your pants off and fuck me already.”

The Kook didn’t argue. He wanted nothing more than to lay down and devoure you of everything you had; make you cum repeatedly on his tongue. But with the way you were practically begging for his cock and dripping arousal on his duvet, he couldn’t wait to fuck you into next week.

He pushed his sweatpants and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free, not even bothering to take them off completely. He hooked one of your legs over his forearm and tapped the head of his length against your clit then dragged it through your folds to your entrance. The corners of his lips twitched up as your juices coated him. He guided himself inside of you slowly then put that hand on your hip.

A soft moan left your lips as Topper filled you up, sighing in relief when he bottom out and held your hips as close to him as he could. He had his jaw clenched, eyelids fluttering as your walls hugged him perfectly.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned softly as he began thrusting slowly. He’d pull back until the head of his cock was the only thing inside of you, then press the whole length of himself back into you.

You whimpered in response, displeased with his slow pace. Your hands traveled up the expanse of his abs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When you reached his pecks you dragged your nails back down.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Top, please. I need more,” you begged the gorgeous boy above you.

His eyes left where the two of your bodies met and locked on yours. They were cloudy with arousal and a smirk spread across his lips, replying, “As you wish, princess.”

Topper’s hips snapped forward as he started fucking you faster. The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room as well as your moans. The grip he had on your hip was bruising tight and his cock was brushing your g-spot with every thrust. He grunted as he moved your leg and put your ankle over his shoulder, bearing his weight on his free hand.

You brought your other leg around his hip, crying out as he started pounding against your g-spot now. The coil in your stomach was winding up fast. Topper felt your pussy clenching around him and he moaned.

“Gonna cum on my cock already, baby?” he asked, bringing his hand off of your hip to rub quick circles against your clit with his thumb. He watched your eyes roll back, mouth falling open as pornographic, sinful moans escaped you. “That’s it, cum for me, Y/N.”

Your legs shook as the euphoric orgasm wracked your body. Topper slowed his thrusts as you road out your high bending down and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You whined and arched into his mouth, nails scratching at his shoulder blades.

He pulled out suddenly, leaving your body cold and empty. You opened your eyes to see him shimmying out of his sweatpants and boxers. He was lazily stroking himself with one and the other grabbed your leg to turn you over.

“Hands and knees, babygirl,” he demanded, pulling your hips up once you were on your stomach.

You had barely gotten your knees situated before he was plunging his length back inside of you. You propped yourself on your elbows and gasped as he set a brutal pace, one hand pressing into your lower back on the spine. Watching your ass bounce with each of his thrusts had Topper in a daze. He couldn’t take his eyes off of your bottom half and his other hand came down on one of your asscheeks roughly, causing him to groan as he watched it shake.

At this angle you could feel him so much deeper than before. All of your senses were on overdrive after your first orgasm, now he was slamming against your g-spot at an ungodly pace. Your second orgasm was approaching faster and faster and you couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching right around him.

“Yes, fuck yes! Right there, Topper, don’t stop!” you moaned out, the side of your face pressed into the bed and muffling your voice slightly.

The Kook let out an animalistic moan, hands gripping tightly to your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. They were getting sloppy, but he tried to keep his pace the same, letting his head fall back as he felt his own release approaching.

“F-Fuck,” Topper groaned, squeezing onto your hips, “I’m gonna fill up this tight pussy, baby. Shit, I’m cumming.”

The two of you released almost at the same time, you reaching your second high just before him. A cry of his name left your lips as your juices coated his swelling cock. His hips stuttered as thick ropes of his cum filled you up. He slowed down, using your tight walls to milk himself as he chanted your name like a mantra.

You fell limp on the bed, causing Topper’s softening cock to slip out of you. He watched his cum slowly drip out of you, making a mess onto your abused cunt and his bed. He got up from the bed and went to his bathroom to grab a washcloth. He came back and gently cleaned you up then himself.

The Thornton boy helped maneuver you under his sheets, smiling at the dazed look in your eyes. He stripped the comforter off his bed and made a mental note to wash it in the morning before climbing under the sheets beside you.

He pulled you into his side and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head when you rested it on his chest. He brushed your hair off your shoulder and let his fingertips trace gentle patterns onto your bare skin. The silence didn’t bother either of you - just content being in each other’s embrace.

“Hey, Top?” you muttered sleepily into the golden skin of his chest. He hummed in response and you continued, “I really like you.”

Topper couldn’t hold back the grin that invaded his face, throwing his head back for a second in joy.

“Hey, Y/N?” he copied you, waiting for you to hum in response before he tilted your chin up. He planted a loving kiss against your lips then the tip of your nose and whispered, “I really like you too.”

tagging my ✨rafe sluts +1 topper slut✨: @letsgofullkook @sortagaysortahigh @queenk00k @jjmbanks @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @jjmaybcnks

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