#AH MY ANXIETY IS SPIKING UGH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sleepysnk · 3 years

Note

Hey love! Ur fav requester here! Jk XD Anyways I thought of a cool request idea but how about a Levi x female reader where the reader is in Levi's squad and both Levi and reader have feelings for another. But they end up getting in some kind of argument and reader runs away outside when it's storming to go cry. Some people heard the argument and go and help find her uwu Plus that good TLC maybe where reader wears Levi's clothes too. Thank you sm for dealing with my requests 😭 love u!

AH YES MY TOP REQUESTER IS HERE 😭. don't hesitate to ever send me one! i enjoy your requests! i hope you enjoy this! ♡

Levi x Fem!Reader: The Storm

Warnings: None

"Will you just stop complaining (Y/N)? I already told you no" Levi said and crossed his arms.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not complaining! I'm just saying what is the obvious" she replied.

Levi and (Y/N) were having a heated argument about something that occurred during the day. She was not happy about what was going on, and she was trying to point it out to him. Levi thought she was just complaining.

Truth is, Levi and (Y/N) both had strong feelings for one another, but both were too scared to admit it. People noticed it, and even pointed it out, but the two of them would just shrug it off.

"Ugh! (Y/N) just shut the hell up already! You complain too much and it's so annoying" Levi snapped and looked at her.

She went silent.

What he said kind of made her upset. She never thought she was annoying before, she didn't really know what to say to him now.

The cracking of thunder broke her out of her thoughts. "Oh... well I'm gonna go now" she said and stood up.

Levi noticed her tone and the way her whole mood changed. "Wait (Y/N)..." he said.

She didn't listen and slammed the door to his office. Levi rolled his eyes at how stupid he sounded, he really said that to her. He didn't mean to call her annoying, it sort of slipped out, he was upset.

The loud claps of thunder and the sound of pounding rain was making it difficult for him to focus. Levi hated storms for very specific reasons, and it bothered him to the point where he couldn't do his paperwork. He was also very worried about (Y/N). He cared a lot about her ever since she was promoted to his squad months ago.

Levi decided to go and find her to talk. He didn't want her going to bed upset. He exited his office and was faced with Hanji.

"What do you want?" Levi asked and crossed his arms.

She nodded. "Um.. I wanted to check in with you. I heard you arguing with (Y/N), and so did the others" she replied.

He sighed. "It was nothing huge... did you see where she went?" he asked and nodded.

Hanji looked at him. "She went somewhere, I didn't see her. Most likely to her room, but I don't know Levi, that sounded really harsh" she replied and shrugged.

He looked back at Hanji. "I'll find her and make sure she's fine" he said and walked away.

He began to make his way to her room. She most likely was in there, hopefully no one would think he was a weirdo. He was just making sure she was in her room safe.

He opened the door and looked around. It was dark except for the lightning that would frequently flash across the sky.

"(Y/N)" Levi whispered and waited for a response.

It was silent.

He nodded. "(Y/N)!" he whispered this time a little louder.

He was super confused and decided to go by her bed. That's when to his surprise, she wasn't in her bed. The lightning made this clear now, she wasn't in her room, and his anxiety began to spike.

Where the hell did she go?

Levi quickly exited her room, and went to go and find Hanji. If (Y/N) wandered off somewhere, he wanted to know where.

"Hey Levi, did you-" Hanji was cut off by him.

"Where the hell is (Y/N)?! She's not in her room, and I don't know where she could be" Levi said and looked up at her.

She nodded. "She's not there? Oh God... she probably went outside. She has a tendency to wander off there when she is upset" she replied and rubbed her head.

"Come with me to find her! Gather my squad" Levi said and went to grab his cloak.

He hated going outside in the rain. He had his reasons, but he wanted to make sure she was safe. Being out in a storm isn't ideal, and it's super dangerous.

Hanji got his squad together to go and search for her. "Everyone is ready Levi" she said.

He nodded. "Alright... let's move out, she can be anywhere. Check absolutely every corner" he replied and began to make his way outside.

The lightning shot across the sky, and thunder crashed above him. The rain hit him quickly making it difficult to see.

"Oluo and Petra! You two go together, Eld and Gunther, you two stay together as well. I'll be on my own! If you find anything meet back here" Levi said and began to ride his horse around.

The rain made it hard for him to see. Levi hated storms, and being out in one made his anxiety spike through the roof. He silently prayed (Y/N) was fine, and she was just sitting somewhere safe. He didn't want her wandering around in the rain.

"(Y/N)! Where are you?" Levi yelled and waited for a response.

Nothing.

Shit. He kept thinking to himself she wandered very far. If she did that'd be bad, he'd spend all night looking for her. He wasn't going to give up so easily on her.

(Y/N) was under a tree crying as the rain came over her. No one knew she was there, but it wasn't the safest. Being under a tree during a thunderstorm was not a good idea. She was cold, and wet which wasn't good either.

That's when she saw a figure in the distance. "(Y/N)!?" a voice called.

She recognized it to be her Captain's voice. Did he figure out she went outside? Levi hated storms, so why would he be out looking for her?

(Y/N) stood up and looked around. Levi saw someone near a tree, and decided to make his way over there. With the lantern light, he knew it was (Y/N).

"(Y/N)! Are you alright?" he asked as he got off his horse.

She sniffed. "Yeah.. I'm fine. I'm going to go" she said and tried to walk away from him.

He grabbed her arm. "No. Why the hell are you out here? It's dangerous, you should know better. You had everyone worried" he said and looked at her with seriousness.

She crossed her arms. "I just wanted to clear my mind" she replied and tried to walk off.

Levi didn't let her go so easily. "Look (Y/N), you're a shitty liar. I know you're upset with me, and I'm sorry for making you upset. You're cold and wet, so come with me" he said and held his hand out to her.

She felt a blush spread across her cheeks as she took his hand. He guided her onto his horse, and lead it back to the stables. The rain was still pouring down. (Y/N) was shivering on the horse.

"Captain!" Petra called as she saw him return with (Y/N).

He looked at her. "I got (Y/N), you guys can head back to bed. Thank you once again" he said and hopped off his horse.

The rest of his squad left, and Levi took her back to his room. They both were drenched as water dripped off of them, and (Y/N) felt extremely cold and uncomfortable in her wet clothes.

"Don't just stand there... here" Levi said and tossed her a towel.

(Y/N) took it and began to dry herself off. "I-I'm cold" she said and looked at him.

He nodded. "I can tell... here take these" he replied and gave her some clothes.

They were his clothes, she had not much of a choice but to change out of hers. Levi began to dry his hair which was also wet from the rain.

"Where should I change?" she asked and stood up.

Levi looked over at her. "In the bathroom obviously, I'm not gonna force you to strip in front of me, unless you want to" he replied and crossed his arms.

She began to blush at his words. "Uhh..." she said and quickly went to the bathroom.

(Y/N) began to remove the wet clothes that clung to her body. She put them in the bathtub, because she knew Levi would throw an absolute fit if she left them on the ground. His clothes actually fit her pretty well, so she wasn't really uncomfortable.

She exited the bathroom and saw Levi standing in his room. "Huh... they fit" he said and eyed her form.

She looked at him and blushed. "Y-Yeah.. they do" she replied and stood there.

Levi came up to her. "You know... I was worried about you. Being out in the rain isn't a smart thing, so don't do it again" he said.

She nodded. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to cause trouble" she replied.

"I may never get the opportunity to say this, but (Y/N)... I have feelings for you. As much as you may be a brat, I still care a lot for you" he said and looked down at her.

(Y/N) felt herself blush, and her heart beginning to race. He actually liked her back? She never really thought he would.

"I like you too Levi" she said and smiled a bit.

His eyes were wide and he was speechless. "Ah, so you must have ran out there on purpose, so I would save you" Levi said and smirked.

She hit his arm and rolled her eyes. "I did not!" she said.

He found amusement in her cuteness. "I'm messing with you... but seriously, never do that again" he said and pulled her into a hug.

She buried her face into his chest. "I promise" she said and smiled.

#anime #attack on titan #aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #levi x reader #anime fanfic

308 notes · View notes

titilationexpress · 3 years

Text

Sweet Dreams are Made of Screams Ch.3

You awoke with a start, gasping as you found yourself back in your bed, heart racing and sweat beading down your forehead, yet you were clearly where you had last been when you fell asleep.

Rising from your mattress, you looked down at yourself, seeing that you were back to your human self. Or...were you your human self in that...dream?

You couldn’t really remember, suddenly feeling quite tense. “God, what WAS that?” you said aloud, rubbing your temple.

You checked your phone and saw yet more requests for Starscream popping into your messages. You flopped back on the bed with a groan. It seemed that you wouldn’t be getting away from him, whether it be your dreams OR wide awake!

Yet what you had experienced…

Throughout the day, you found yourself unable to focus on anything. Whether it be at school/college/work or in your free time, the Decepticon would not leave your brain. That wasn’t really new, the constant requests for him made his presence in your mind a regular, yet this was different. You didn’t know how to explain it, but Starscream seemed to make his presence known. As in, ridiculous as it sounds, like he’s always over your shoulder, watching you.

A fictional character was somehow transcending reality and subtly manipulating you into doing his bidding. Or was it yours, as, despite the feeling of eyes on the back of your head, you have been wanting to write about him for some time.

Yet unlike before, something had changed. True, that dream you had left you rather flustered (not to mention quite wet that morning), but also...inspired? Was that the word? Well, whatever it was, it eventually managed to get you going on churning out more reader insert entries. You went through your requests, going down the list of bots and scenarios when finally, one snags your attention.

Vampire!Starscream X Reader.

Well, that was quite the challenge, wasn’t it?

Sure, you had experimented with that in the past, yet once again, Starscream seemed to haunt you everywhere you went. Just what was it that...that made him so difficult for you? Why couldn’t you just write something?!

It was then though that your mind went back to the dream and your...intimate encounter with your favorite version of the character. His words regarding your doubts, your insecurities regarding your ability to write for him….how all of it was true. And how, to overcome it, you had to cast aside your inhibitions.

You just had to “do”.

It was an hour later or so that you were still at your computer/laptop, trying to figure out where to go from here. You had the scenario in mind, now to build a plot off of it. So far, all you had was that it was in G1 (or at least some version of it at least. Hey, headcanons and AUs were serious business, you had learned), and that you somehow became Starscream’s vampire bride in the end. It was kinda stupid, but hey, G1 was known for equally crazy shit.

The only problem was where to start.

True, you knew what the end result would be, but how to get there was the question. Better yet, how the hell do robots turn into vampires?! Ugh! You couldn’t do this! You just couldn’t! You were doomed for failure! You slapped your hand against your head, trying to keep yourself from getting too frazzled. But how were you going to do this?

It was then that you heard something. Or rather, thought something.

‘Shockwave this, Shockwave that. All I ever hear about is how great Shockwave is!’

You knew that quote! Starscream’s brigade! It grew to be one of your favorites of G1! But what did that have to do with…wait a minute. Shockwave...Shockwave was left on Cybertron but was also somewhat of a scientist. And there had been references to other planets and aliens in the series (hell, Season 3 had barely anything to do with Earth at that point), and there were such things as Petro Rabbits, so why couldn’t Shockwave have a collection of live specimens to study?

And you, the Reader, we’re going to be his assistant.

From there, more and more came to you, you typing like mad as you clicked and clacked the keyboard, everything just pouring out of you at once! You were doing this, you realized. Holy shit, you were doing this! On and on you wrote, getting the outline and first part done. Then came the second, third, and so on.

And when you finally gained the courage to post them (you had not submitted them quite yet, having held back), you saw that the reception was...good.

It was good.

Sure, the first part only had a few likes so far, but it seemed to be ok. Still, you didn’t get your hopes up too high. But it wasn’t long after that you found yourself aboard the abandoned ship again, only this time, there was no one in the cell. You knew well who should’ve been in there.

“S-Starscream?” You stammered, voice echoing off the walls. It was then that you felt a servo trail it’s way up your spine, causing you to nearly leap out of your skin. Turning, you saw the amused, chortling form of your favorite Starscream, clearly pleased with himself in having given you a fright. “Don’t do that to me!” you held your chest, feeling your heart beating.

“Welcome back.” The Seeker greeted. “It looks like we’re in for another eventful night.”

Your eyes widened. “We are?” You remembered last time well. How bizarre the whole situation was...but also how good it felt. How good he felt.

“Yes, you’ve been aching for another night with me, haven’t you?” He whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your back. “Don’t bother denying it. I can see into your thoughts, remember?” His eyes then began to glow red. “And I also know what you’ve written about me recently.”

“Oh, that.” Your cheeks grew red. “Yeah, well...it was my first time writing for you, and...well, I’ve never done anything with vampires before, so…” it was then that you noticed Starscream’s eyes seeming more...red than you remembered. And...and since when did he have fangs?! “The hell?!”

Starscream only chuckled. “Don’t you remember? This was from what you had written but a short time ago.”

Oh, right. “It’s…kinda stupid though, the story I mean,” you shifted nervously. “I mean, it’s not really meant to be taken seriously.”

“But,” Starscream approached you, holding your chin gently. “You DID finally face your fears, right?” You nodded. “But yet, you’re still unsure.” Sighing, you nodded. “Well,” his optics glimmered. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”

You stiffened, knowing where this was going. The environment around you changed to that of the Nemesis’ brig, you in a cell with Starscream. The same position the Reader was in near the end of the story. You knew well what was about to happen, Starscream slowly backing you up against the wall. And yet not once did you tell him to back off. True, your heart was racing, yet it wasn’t entirely out of fear. No, you feared what would come next.

“Relax, my dear.” Starscream assured you. “I’ll be gentle.” He opened his mouth, revealing pronounced canines on his upper set of dentas.

You released a heavy sigh and let it happen. The Seeker bit down on your neck and into your flesh. There was slight pain, yes, yet you could stop this anytime you wanted. You let it continue. The sting from his fangs entering you lasted only a few seconds though, as there was a rushing warmth that overtook you.

“Ah, found your courage, have you?” Starscream questioned. “Well then,” he lowered his hand to your lower regions, lightly stroking it. “Shall we take things one step further?”

Honestly, you didn’t see why not.

That night, you two had another session, the Decepticon exploring and driving you crazy with his methods, you, in turn, responding in kind. Turns out a tongue savoring his spike was one of the things you did that could make him, fittingly enough, scream. And then, you woke up, a kiss bringing out of the dream once again. More requests, and yet...and yet, this time, you felt somewhat more...confident.

You decided to try out another scenario, taking your time with this one, yet not allowing anxiety to have as much of a hold over you. And, to your surprise, this Starscream x Reader fic got good reception too! True, you still wrote for all the other Autobots and Decepticons, yet the Seeker, whatever incarnation he was, proved to be some of your most popular.

Which, in turn, led to you getting more and more visits from him.

It wasn’t each night, yet sometimes, especially when you were either in the midst of writing one, or were struggling to come up with a scenario, he would appear. Luring you into the darkness to join him, allowing yourself to cast away the chains that once held you back.

And thus, you found yourself here again. The same ship, and same voice calling you. It seemed he wished to repeat how you two had met the first time.

“I know, I know...you belo-o-ng to so-omebody ne-e-w,” you heard his voice echoing all around, you recognized the song. It was an older one, one that your mother liked, remembering it from your grandmother’s vinyl collection. What was it called? Patience and Prudence’s…

“But toni-i-ght, you belong, to me…”

Ah, yes. How...oddly fitting. You followed the Seeker’s surprisingly bearable singing, listening and taking note of which direction it was coming from. What would it be tonight, you wondered. A dive into a new situation for the Reader, aka yourself, or something new? Sometimes Screamer himself came up with ideas, of which you would do, if not just to allow him to let you finish. Though you did get your revenge mostly, there were times where you were just wanting some smooth pillow talk. Starscream frankly made you exhausted. In a good way? Honestly, even now, you weren’t sure.

And yet, here you were, about to indulge him yet again.

“My honey I know, I know,” the source of the voice was close. “With the da-a-wn, that yo-o-u, will be go-o-ne,” you saw the cell, yet Starscream wasn’t confined. You couldn’t confine him now, even if you wanted to. “But tonight…” and, if you had to be honest, “You belong,” you didn’t want to. “To me.”

#starscream x reader #starscream #prime #g1 #animated #transformers animated #transformers #smut #first lemon

45 notes · View notes

maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

205 notes · View notes

theodora3022 · 3 years

Text

Love You To Hell And Back(Yandere Claude)

Pairing: Yandere Claude Faustus x F!reader

Summary: Upon running away from home due to an unwanted arranged marriage, you took up a maid position in the Trancy household. You thought it would be simple, lay low for couple of months then the other family would cancel the engagement. Being a maid should be easy right? Just wash and clean the house and saying yes to their lords. You never thought you would end up in such a bizarre and dangerous household.

Notes: I am a Claude simp. If you do not know before, you do now. Do not get the wrong idea, Sebastien is handsome alright, but there is just something about those golden eyes makes me shiver in the best kind of way. (Also I love the French pronunciation of his name but whatever)

Word count:2k

Warning: Non-con touching, coercion, possessive behaviour, general Yandere content

SFW

As a lady on exile, you do not have many options. Your relatives were out of the question since they could inform your parents of your whereabouts, and so does all of your friends. Luckily, you figured out the perfect solution: disguises! And who is more unnoticeable then a maid? They blend naturally in the background of drawing rooms and parties, no one will bat an eye if there happen to be an extra one. Nobles do not care for servants, so a forged name and documents would get the job done.

Answering advertisements seems to be a good way to start. Ah, there is one right here. The Trancy Estate? To your knowledge, there is only one young lord there, and you are not acquainted with the family. Seems the ideal choice: “Only for two months, as a replacement.” You know being a servant would be unpleasant, compare to your noble lady life now, but you had chosen between this instead marrying a man you despise.

Packing some essentials, you thrown on a simple cotton dress borrowed from your maids and sneaked out. You thought you had escaped from hell, not knowing you are better off staying. Because, you had quite literally, walked into a spider’s trap.

A dark-skinned maid welcomed you, explaining how she has to leave the household for some personal business while giving you a small tour of the building. She seems nice enough, although you were curious why her right eye is covered by bandages. The manor is dead quiet and empty, giving you an illusion of how you can hear your own breathing.

“Miss Hannah, where are the other servants?” You shiver, tightening your clock just a bit. Although it is only autumn, the winds are chillier in this house, or so you felt.

“There is only five of us. Me, the triplets, and Sir Claude the butler. Our master can be...difficult, one could say.” Handing you a basket of maid attire, Hannah seem to be terrified of this master she speaks of.

I wonder why he is so difficult. You thought as you thanked her and settled down in the little servant room you were given. Better put on these maid clothes soon, getting use to them as fast as possible. Blue and white does not look so bad together.

Kitchen duties are not so bad since all you need to do is chopping up vegetables and wash the dishes while the triplets took care of the cooking. Dusting is a nuisance, but with enough efforts it was taken care off. The triplets are an odd flock, as they never speak unless necessary. All your befriend attempts had failed miserably, you felt as if they look down on you somehow? Since you only do backstage work, you had yet to meet the master and his butler. Not that you mind, you want to kept your existence covert, after all!

You were trying to dust off the chandelier in the drawing room when you first met Claude. The stairs you use are a bit unstable, which causes you to have major anxieties about falling.

“Ahh!” You squeal as your staircase finally deciding to let you fall. Closing your eyes in horror, you were certain you are going to suffer at least bruises. But the expected pain never came. Instead, you felt a strong set of arms had caught your body mid-hair.

Gazing up, what did you see?

Oh did that gorgeous face make this fall worth it. The tall man in black reminds you of those flawless Roman statues, of King David. You never thought humans can be this magnificent.(Well you are still right, as he is no human)

Gently placing you back on your feet, Claude started to examine you behind those clear glasses. You quickly smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt as you dip your head for greeting.

“Greetings, kind Sir. You must be Sir Claude. My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am (y/n), the new maid.” Gods, he is handsome. You were not even sure words can describe how those golden eyes made you feel. Are you blushing? Ugh, get it together, self! He is only a butler here. It is beneath you to swoon over him. You put on a smile, then courtesies to the stoic man in the most elegant way possible.

The lack of callus on your fingers and your sophisticated manners informs him that you, are no ordinary maid. As a servant to his lord, Claude needs to make sure no sketchy individual can harm him. Some investigation would need to be done.

How interesting...Why would a high-born lady such as yourself ran away from your prestigious noble house, only to serve as a humble servant here? Just where did Hannah dig you up? Ah, that is no matter at present. Surely your cheerful spirts can light up the dull days of this mansion. The only thing Claude need to ensure is you do not expire as quickly as others. Alois can be such a spoiled brat; however no harm should befall to you as long as he can help it.

Your voice reminds the demon of little birds of forest mornings, chirping delightfully to a new day no matter how horrid the night before was. The way you thank him stuttering then trying to go back to your duties are just adorable, and amusing. It is clear as day:you are fascinated by Claude’s pretty face. Quite bold for a lady to do so. Claude had met a lot of people in his long life, but none of them intrigues him so as you do. He cannot grasp what exactly, but there must be something enchanting about you, that makes him want to pull you close and do unspeakable things to your good, pure body.

Tender and cautious, that is what the knocks on his office door suggests. It is late, way past Alois’s bedtime. Who could have business with him this hour, apart from his demanding lord? “Come in.” Claude’s curiosity had spiked up.

It is you, still dressed and with a plate in your hands. What a pleasant surprise. And are those pastries?

“I...baked these for you, Sir. I want to thank you for your help earlier today.” Looking away, you quickly remind yourself how you should never indulge too much. However you had already spent two hours of your free time trying to bake something decent.

Did your parents taught you it is improper to visit a man’s quarters this late at night, alone? How rebellious of you, not that Claude minds anyway. You might appear to be demure and good at first sight, but under that nice façade is a bold maiden who does not care for modesty, how complex.

Chocolate chip biscuits, but with distorted shapes. “I am not very good at this, so I totally understand if you do not wish to eat them. I jus want to properly show my gratitude, that is all.” Nervously fidgeting your apron corner, you bit your lip when he raises one of them to his lips and took a small bite.

Edible, but has lots of room for improvement. Claude can practically taste your eagerness to please from the chocolate spheres. Seeing your gaze fixated on him, expecting his comments on your work, Claude let out a quiet laugh. Which made heat rush up to your cheeks. Is that a good or a bad response? It cannot be that terrible can it?

“Come.” He signals with a hand wave, and you hesitantly walked beside his chair. How cute, the butler and the little maid. It would be a shame to just give you some half-hearted praises and send you out, wouldn’t it? It is what a gentleman would do, of course. Claude on the other hand, has never been one. He could entertain that appearance for his lord’s sake, but in this little room with just you, there is no need for charades.

You were shocked when one gloved hand pulled you swiftly onto his lap, with the other locked around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Of course, you fantasized the idea of being the lover of such a fine specimen of mankind, but only the idea of it. Even though you are nothing more then a lowly maid now, you are still a lady of nobility with conducts of propriety.

Your shrinking pupils made Claude realize he might be pushing a bit too fast. But human lives are so fragile, so short compare to demon ones. If he does not seize this opportunity, who knows when is next one going to arrive? Whether it is your intention or not, Claude is now mesmerized with you. Now that he is holding you this close, breathing in your intoxicating sweet scent, the old demon had his first epiphany of a millennium: you are lovely, and he intends to keep you this way, one way or the other.

Squirming with protests, you tried to get out of his suffocating embrace. “Sir, this is not proper, please let go of me.” Yet you achieve no results, those iron grips still hold you firmly in place, those same arms that spared you an embarrassing fall this morning.

“Little bird, finally thinking about propriety? You should know better then coming to my office this late unless you want something to happen.” Claude is close, too close, you can feel his breath fanning your ears gently. Gloved fingers trace down your jawline, making you tremble with fear. “Am I right, Lady (family name)?” You froze. What how did he-how do he know you are not a mere commoner? Had he already done a thorough investigation on you?

“Now, repeat after me, little bird.” His golden eyes shifted its color to pink, round pupils bending into a thin line. In normal circumstances, you would be terrified of how his features suddenly changed, but now you are too possessed by his intense gaze to think of anything else. Those eyes, you felt as if you could drown in those two magenta pools.

“I love Claude Faustus forever and I would do anything should he asks of me.”

“I-I love Claude Faustus f-forever...and I would do anything should....should he-e asks of me.” It is still your voice, although those words are defintely not your own. What is happening? Why do your tongue just moved on its own like man possessed?

“Perfect.” Running his bare fingers through your hair, Claude left a light kiss on your forehead, ignoring the horrid expression you are wearing. “You will behave, right little bird?”

“Of course, Sir Claude.” You did not just say that !There is no way. What has this evil man done to you? You never should have come here. Your terrible fiancée at least could not cast spells on you!

“I’ll take good care of you, my dearest little bird. After all, your fate is defined since the moment I lay my eyes on you. We are destined to be together.”

“Oh, do try to behave. It would be a shame if something should happen to your dear family. I would hate if you end up like your other human predecessors.” His lord, despite his young age, is a master at torture and inflicting suffering. There is a unfortunate reason why there is only a few servants in this manor, and the fact that they are durable demons too. Claude knows exactly where you would end up had he not intervened. Do not worry, he would never let you go. Demons mate for life, didn’t you know that? Why resist?

“I love you my dear, to the hell and back. We shall stay together until the end of time.”

#black butler #black butler imagines #black butler fanfiction #yandere claude faustus #claude faustus #yandere black butler

135 notes · View notes

cheesydoesitstevie · 3 years

Text

🎄Merry Christmas 🎄

Just something that has been living in my head.

Warnings: some angst, fairly fluffy. Mentions of sex.

Bucky and Natasha sat against the bar. The stools kept them slightly apart. They still managed to be as close together as they could be. Nat had her back leaning against the bar’s rim, her elbows propped on the edges. Her long legs were straightened out in front of her. Bucky was sideways with his outer knee bumping against Nat’s leg. His metal hand rested on his glass of whiskey while his other hand boldly rested on Nat’s thigh. They looked so relaxed and happy with each other.

You wanted them to both be happy but the bile of green envy bubbled up inside of you. It left a burning sensation in your chest and a sour taste in the back of your throat. Tony waltzed out enjoying himself a little too much the stupid santa hat on his head slid to the side bobbing everywhere. He blocked Bucky and Nat momentarily.

Tacky and over done Christmas decorations litered the entire Avenger’s compound. Tony made his way to Pepper who was adjusting some ornaments on the tree and sipping on her eggnog. Tony spun her, eggnogg sloshed over her hand as they continued to dance.

Ugh everyone had someone, you stood a lone in the doorway like a creepy stalker. Bucky had never been that comfortable and open with you in public. He generally had favored finding you alone in bed late at night after a bad dream or when he wanted to be grounded after a rough mission. A lump of spikes nestled itself in the pit of your stomach. He was in love with Nat while you had been the disposable quick fix. You knew deep down Bucky hadn’t meant to treat you like that. Still it didn’t hurt any less.

Sharon and Steve joined Tony and Pepper in dancing around the room. Sam and Clint chatted about who knows what over on the couch while Thor hadn’t shown up yet. Most likely he would arrive with Jane.

You couldn’t help but look down to see your green dress with gold bells going down the middle. It was like an ugly sweater turned into a cute tight little dress. It was festive, soft, warm and hugged your curves beautifully. You had loved the idea of wearing it tonight until you realized you had no one to wear it for.

“What a sad bunch.” Loki’s smooth voice cut through the tension of your thoughts. It startled you because he suddenly just appeared next to you.

“Typical Stark party. Don’t you know its all the rage!” You hadn’t meant to let so much disdain fall from your lips. Suddenly the chipped nail polish on your nails seemed like the safest place to look.

Loki studied your features for a moment. Your body was tense and pressed against the wall, as if you let go you would fall. You had barely even glanced at him after he initially spoke. Loki began to wonder what had your attention so coiled around it. He turned to follow your gaze was burning holes into the back of Bucky and Nat.

“Ah, troubles in paradise.” Loki spoke softly leaning against the other side of the door frame.

You looked up at him, Loki saw the sadness in your eyes. No matter how hard you worked to mask everything behind subtle features. If you over did it, Bucky or Nat would undoubtedly see through it. They were experts on reading faces and seeing into lies. At this point you either prefected each expression or they truly did not care how you felt. The latter was too much to bare so you knocked it off as having a talent for masking.

Although when you looked into Loki’s eyes there was no chance of hiding anything from him. His face was blank while his eyes held yours delving deep into the pools of them. A tingle spread through your finger tips, making your whole body shiver with anxiety. You wanted to look away, but something was so captivating about Loki’s eyes. It was rare that you got to see them like this.

Your tongue poked out to wet your lips Loki broke the stare by looking down to your slightly glossy lips. This gave you the chance to look away. It made your heart skip a beat. The feelings of jealousy was now replaced with a fluttering tornado of invisible butterflies swarming the pit of your stomach.

“There’s only one thing I like about this Midgardian holiday.” Loki spoke in a softer tone. He kept his eyes trained on you.

“What all the green?”

“No this.”

You turned to look at what he was referring to. His long slender finger pointed upwards to the door frame. A perfect placed mistletoe hung neatly just above your heads. Your eyes went wide, and your heart hammered inside your chest. Had that been there before? You didn’t think so but it was definitely there now!

You quickly lowered your head and tried to think of an escape plan. What did Loki mean by pointing that out, surely he did not want to kiss a common Midgardian girl. Loki had made it very clear he wasn’t interested in long term friendships or relationships. Perhaps he meant for you to trick Bucky into getting underneath the mistletoe.

You swallowed nervously and tried to back up, your back connected with the frame and you jolted in place. Loki grinned at you, his finger tips brushing softly along the under curve of your lips. His fingers curled under your chin he tipped your head back as he tilted his head and leaned down. His lips were cool and soft. It was not the kiss you expected. Loki parted his lips waiting for you to allow him access. You parted your lips and he deepened the kiss.

His hands wrapped around your waist pulling you in closer to his body. He smelled of pine and fire kindling. His lips tasted like fresh mint. Not candy or gum but a crisp pure mint leaf. You lifted yourself on tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck. Loki shifted wanting to pull you up around his waist. Yet he controlled his urges. Giving a quick side glance to make sure non of the Avengers were privy to the mistletoe encouraged lip lock.

Loki was the first one to break the kiss a small mist of crystallized air left your lips causing you to quietly whimper, not wanting Loki to stop. He grinned at your greedy little eager lips waiting to have more. In that moment you realized for the first time in months that Bucky and Nat were evicted from your thoughts. All that remained was the taste of Loki and how his tongue felt dipping between your lips.

“All you need is a distraction.” He whispered his lips grazing the shell of your ear sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

Loki weaved his fingers with yours and turned making sure you were in tow as he lead you to his own quarters within the Avengers compound.

Never would you have believed Loki to be an option for a lover but tonight, even if just for one night. You wanted him to unravel you piece by piece until you forgot everything. Everything except his name.

#Loki #loki x reader #the avengers #avengers x you #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #tom hiddleston #tony stark #thor #steve rogers #clint barton #sam wilson #pepper potts #Christmas #Christmas at the Avengers #mistletoe

47 notes · View notes

duskowithapen · 4 years

Text

Of Flowers And Tattoo Needles Chapter Three

Read on Fanfiction

Read on AO3

A Resolution

“Don’t you dare tell her, bug!”

Luka wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Adrien had walked into the tattoo parlour proper, standing toe to toe with his fiancée, having a full argument in front of them. If Adrien is in a relationship with this Kagami, then what was up with the pet names and the forehead kiss?

“Why are you so intent on keeping this a secret?!” Kagami demanded, waving her rapier under the blonde’s nose threateningly.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“You know that I hate surprises!”

“But this is a good surprise, I promise!”

“Adrien, I swear if you got a dragon tattooed onto your chest I will do something drastic!”

“C’mon Kagami, like Marinette would let me get something so obvious-OH-GODS-DON’T-IMPALE-ME—”

Much to Juleka’s displeasure – she was watching the argument with one of her signature ‘ah yes, chaos’ smirks – Marinette intervened before blood could be shed. “Maybe we could all calm down and talk this out like rational, non-violent human beings. I don’t think bloodstains will do anything for my shop’s reputation.” She pressed a hand to her hip and started Adrien down. “Unless you want to keep playing the scaredy cat, chaton?”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. A hand was held dramatically to his chest. “So cruel m’lady!”

Kagami huffed and lowered her weapon, turning to give Marinette a bow. “My apologies, Mari-hime. I shall eviscerate him outside.”

“Let’s just not eviscerate anyone, hmm?” Marinette sighed.

The pout that appeared on Kagami’s face made Rose giggle, and it seemed to remind the swordswoman that yes, there were other people in the store. In the back corner, while the redhead was intent on his work, the client was watching them. Kagami bowed again. “I did not realise you had other clients, Mari-hime. Was this a bad time?”

Marinette waved a hand towards the couches. “It’s okay, Gami-chan. I was about to get Luka’s tattoo started, but I should probably help my idiot of a best frien before he gets himself killed.” Adrien visibly wilted at the look Marinette gave him. She turned an apologetic smile onto Luka, and he blinked at the full force of those beautiful bluebell eyes focusing completely on him. “Are you okay if I postpone your tattoo for a little bit? I promise this won’t take too long.”

Luka shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was really missing his guitar now. “I’m fine with that. You’re not the only one wanting to know about someone’s tattoo,” he directed at Kagami, who hummed questioningly. “My sister and her partner have been pestering me about my tattoo all morning.”

“See!” Adrien burst out, “Keeping your tattoo secret until it’s finished is normal Kagami!”

A loud clap stopped the argument from restarting. “Alright! If everyone could just sit down, we can get this cleared up,” Marinette said in a tone that demanded total obedience. There was a glint in her eyes that suggested great violence on those who did not comply.

Luka was very lucky that he was standing in front of one of the couches in the first place. That tone of voice, that look on her face… he dared any man not to get a bit weak in the knees.

“Sounds like a plan,” Juleka murmured as she brushed past, shooting him an uncomfortably knowing look as she sat by Rose’s side. “Considering that Luka thought you and Adrien were together. Care to explain how he could have come to that conclusion?”

There was a moment of silence. Luka and Marinette’s faces flared up in identical blushes. Adrien’s face reddened slowly as he bit his lip. Kagami’s eyebrows rose past her fringe. In the back corner, the client was still watching like the whole situation was a soap drama.

Then laughter.

Luka’s head snapped up as Kagami of all people started giggling, stern face crinkling into a smile as she tried to smother her amusement behind one fist. Adrien finally took a breath, losing his battle with the laughter he’d been restraining. His tugged his fiancée down onto the other couch with him. “Oh god, really?!”

Marinette dropped into the seat beside Luka, face hidden behind her hands. He leaned in a little. “I feel like I’m missing something?” He said lowly.

A blush still stained her face when Marinette looked up. Despite their closeness, she didn’t shift away. “Just a little, yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “I just feel so stupid. There I was, practically throwing myself at you, and you seemed interested, and then Adrien walks in, and oh god, you must have thought I was some floozy, that I was flirting with you despite having a boyfriend – which we’re not by the way, I swear I’d never cheat on you – I mean, if we were together I wouldn’t cheat – not that I’d cheat on Adrien if we were together, which again, we aren’t – but I wouldn’t have said those things or done anything if I was with someone else, but you didn’t know that, and ugh it’s all just a great big fucking mess –” Marinette stopped with a sudden inhale as Luka pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he whispered, ignoring their avid audience. “I admit, I was confused, but I figured I could try and clear it up today anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a wrong assumption,” he said with a self-depreciating chuckle, “I’ve never been all that good with people. I find it easier to communicate through my music than anything else.”

Marinette opened her mouth to reply, and Luka had to restrain a shiver at the feeling of soft lips against his guitar calluses. “I really am sorry, Luka. I keep forgetting how mine and Adrien’s… dynamic can be seen by other people.” She paused for a moment, looking away, before continuing, “And I think you communicate pretty well like this. Better than my anxiety-fuelled rambling anyway.”

Luka leaned in a little closer, drawing his finger down her chin and barely brushing her neck before pulling it away. “I thought it was kinda adorable,” he whispered.

Adrien coughed, pulling the two out of their haze. “Uh, I just wanted to apologise, Luka. I’m a very touchy-feely kinda person, and I keep forgetting that not everyone, y’know, hugs and kisses and just generally touch their friends as much as I do. I was… isolated as a kid, and I never really got the concept of personal space.” Now, didn’t that sound concerning?

He waved a hand at the nervous looking blonde. “That’s okay Adrien. I can get a bit touchy too – I shouldn’t have made assumptions. People have thought the same thing about Juleka and I before.” That had made for a very awkward conversation as they explained to the landlady no, they weren’t teenage lovers, but siblings who had decided to move in together.

“It’s all the nicknames,” Juleka said with a smirk, “Wasn’t it your dad you asked if he needed to design two wedding dresses, Adrien?”

Marinette groaned deeply and twisted to bury her face in Luka’s shoulder, hand grasping his jacket just in front of her face. “Don’t remind me,” she said, words half-muffled, “I can’t look Mr Agreste in the eye anymore!”

“Out of curiosity, where did the nicknames come from?” Luka asked, trying to keep a straight face as he wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist, holding her to his side. Based on Juleka’s fake retch, he wasn’t very successful.

It was Adrien’s turn to blush, as he grabbed Kagami’s hand. “Well, like I said, I was an isolated kid. The only kind of unsupervised social interaction I got was when I played Ultimate Mecha Strike online. When I was thirteen, I met a player called Buginette03 – who tuned out to be Marinette – and we got pretty close, despite not sharing our real names. I’d ask Bug for advice when it came to my father, or later on, social stuff, and then she’d ask me for help when her anxiety spiked, or she started catastrophising.”

“And he’d use me as a sounding board for his awful pickup lines,” Marinette cut in, finally pulling her head away from Luka’s arm. It suddenly felt very cold. “You are such a cat-ch is a horrible excuse of both a line and a pun.”

“Hey! It worked with Kagami, didn’t it?”

Both Marinette and Kagami rolled their eyes. “Obviously, she took pity on you, kitty,” the tattooist said, deadpan.

“I found your determination in finding a successful line pitiful enough to be amusing.” Was Kagami’s response.

“Meowch!” Adrien said, insulted. “So cruel, ganging up on a poor cat!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and turned to face Luka properly. “Anyway, after almost a years worth of playing with each other and chatting, we decided to… reveal ourselves, I guess? I was so surprised when I realised that the snarky, goofy LostKittenOnTheCatwalk was actually in my class.”

Adrien slapped Kagami gently when she scoffed at his username. “Hey, I thought it was funny! I was thirteen!” He shook his head for a second. “But yeah, I was both surprised but not when I found out that Marinette was Buginette. Like, once I knew, I wondered how I could have thought it was anyone else.”

“We tried to date for a little bit,” Marinette said, taking up the narrative. “We thought that it was a ‘meant to be’ kind of thing, but it didn’t really work out.”

“We’re partners, but not? We work better as close friends, or siblings, rather than lovers,” Adrien looked at Marinette with a small smile. “I’m just glad that Marinette chose to remain friends with me. Probably not her smartest move,” he said with a shrug, “But oh well.”

Kagami flicked Adrien in the shoulder as Marinette pulled a pencil out nowhere and threw it. “Don’t get started on that again, chaton,” The tattooist said sternly. “We were both young, and stupid, and made you, stupid mistakes that we both learned from. And I will get Kagami to bash that into your thick head if I have to!”

Adrien waggled his eyebrows halfheartedly. “Not wanting to bruise me up yourself, m’lady?”

Marinette’s response was a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “I think I’ll leave that dubious honour to Kagami. Besides, I already got to stab you.”

“Indeed,” Kagami said with a frown, “I am still waiting for an explanation of your tattoo, Adrien.”

“Well-look-at-the-time-gotta-GO!” Adrien was on his feet in an instant, sprinting out of the store. “See-ya-later-guys-bye!”

Kagami followed suit with a low bow, a murmur on how nice it was to meet them all, and then she was gone, smirk crossing her lips and sword held firmly in one hand. Luka wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Adrien’s safety or not.

His attention was pulled away when Marinette patted his arm. “They’ll be alright,” she soothed, “Kagami’s been stressing out over a fencing competition for a while, so Adrien’s been drawing out the whole ‘no you can’t see what my tattoo is’ thing so that she’ll actually take a break. Pretty sure this is the first time she’s left the dojo for something other than food or sleep for a week.”

“What is Adrien’s tattoo?” Rose asked, leaning forward.

“I’ve still got the concept page, if you’ll just give me a moment…” Marinette jumped up and rifled through her desk, returning with a thick, tattered at the edges sketchbook. She flicked it open to a drawing of a curled up dragon the size of Luka’s palm. It was Chinese style – all long body, short legs, fur crest running down it’s length, flowing whiskers – in various shades of black and red. The crest was a pale shade of yellow, contrasting with the dark gold underbelly. Lighter gold made up the claws and teeth. The eyes were, surprisingly, a rather normal brown. The dragon was curled into a circle, with it’s jaw open. Interestingly, it wasn’t breathing fire, but rather a stream of what appeared to be wind, portrayed in curling lines of grey that created clouds around the dragon. Scattered throughout were tiny gold stars.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette,” Luka breathed, glancing up at the blushing artist. “You’re incredibly skilled.”

Her stammers were covered up by Rose’s squeals. “It’s so detailed Marinette! I take it that the dragon is meant to be Kagami?”

“Ye-yeah. It’s inspired by a story about the dragon of the stars, which was one of Kagami’s favourite when she was little, and Adrien wanted to have it curled up over his heart to show how she both owns his heart and protects it – thus the clouds and kina scary expression.” Marinette traced over the drawing slowly. “Definitely one of my best works.”

“Just one of your best?” Luka asked lowly.

When Marinette looked up, a blush still tinted her cheeks, but there was a determined spark in her eye. “Yeah. There’s this messy haired florist who’s getting my best tattoo at some point, if he still has time to have it done?”

“I’m all yours Marinette.” And oh, how Luka hoped he could make that literal.

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Juleka said with a smirk, grasping a protesting Rose by the shoulders and pushing her towards the door. “I expect progress photo, big brother!”

He just waved a hand in her direction, not taking his eyes off Marinette’s. “Yeah, yeah, I will, you impatient brat.”

When the door shut behind them, Marinette extended one ink-stained hand. “So. Ready to get stabbed?”

Luka took it. “By you? Always.”

A few days later, after tattoos were drawn, inked, admired, wrapped and cared for, Luka appeared outside Charmed Ink. In his hands was a large bouquet of flowers – Pink orchids, larkspur, daffodils, cherry blossoms, blue morning glories and hyacinths. In the very centre was a single lilac.

For love beginning.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #of flowers and tattoo needles #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #marinette x luka #tattoo artist/florist au #tattoo artist marinette

57 notes · View notes

ladylofspades · 3 years

Text

Splatted (Splatoon 2 OC Story Piece)

Thanks to my best friend, I've been getting into Splatoon 2! I think I'm late into liking it? But nonetheless, I'm super thankful she gave me the game for my birthday last month! For now, I shall try to write again; but this time, it will be my first story for my new deaf Splatoon OC named Ashlei.

It was the nth day of summer and, like the past consecutive days, the proud sun beamed in the cloudless blue sky -- its rays spreading heat waves across Inkopolis. From the city center down to the peaceful docks of Sturgeon Shipyard, one can faintly see waves in almost every look and turn. Here, the city folk would most likely either stay indoors with all air-producing electronics switched on, or take a drive out of town to the sea -- all this just to keep themselves cool amidst the merciless heat.

But like most days, this could mean one thing ---

"Booyah!"

"This way!"

That's right: a summer splat battle! Team Pink vs. Team Orange.

After being hit by the same perpetrator from Team Orange five times in a row, Ashlei decided to remain within the perimeters of the team base, covering that portion with his team color. Every time a teammate insists that he must push on and paint across the docks leading up to their opponent's base, he politely refuses and insisted too that he stayed behind.

They respected his decision, much to their dismay. But to his relief, they understood why, and let him be.

Ashlei watched each one of them off, as they sped through different paths until they disappeared into the distance. With his Carbon Roller Deco, he pushed his weapon forward, meticulously covering every inch of the base and contemplating on who would attack him so much.

The overhead monitor flashed on, announcing the nearing loss of the Pink Team. With few seconds remaining, the tension and desperation to win dangerously spiked. Luckily one of his teammates nearby pointed him to the screen, with Ashlei now sharing the same anxiety of their incoming loss.

After a few hand signals, the teammate sped off, leaving Ashlei to paint over the rest of the orange-stained docks. He saw something move at the corner of his eye and decided to follow, completely unaware of the one after him, hidden under the orange ink. Taking a U-turn, Ashlei accidentally rolled over a Team Orange member and went over to the orange-stained base. In a panic, he desperately covered as much space as he can... not realizing a head slowly emerging from the orange puddle few feet away from him. The perpetrator quickly pulled up their Heavy Splatling and fired directly at Ashlei on the back, sending the latter flat to the ground, his roller sprawled a few feet away. Even with the time up, the perpetrator smirked dangerously as they continued to fire at Ashlei until he was knocked unconscious, his teammates already subdued.

What... What just... happened....

Something ice-cold splashed on his upper body, causing him to jolt awake. Ashlei shook the excess water off his head before squinting at his surroundings.

Sturgeon... Shipyard...?

Ashlei turned to the blurry figure in front of him. His vision improving, the blurry figure distorted into one of the players he recognized from the orange team: Ven, a red-headed Inkling with an infamous reputation of beating up his opponents with his Heavy Splatling after every victory. As to how officials sponsoring every battle would qualify someone like him in matches was unknown. He was a tall, slightly buff young man with a bragging scar on the side of his cheek. He donned a Toni Kensa biker jacket, a pair of navy blue jeans and a pair of black Inkle army boots. On his left hand held his well-renowned weapon, while his right hand rested on his hip.

But he wasn't alone. On his right, Ashlei recognized, was his right hand man known as Anjel; someone whom Ashlei couldn't recognize was on his left.

Ashlei's heart throbbed more rapidly than ever as he struggled, then he realized that he was tied to the pole. The realization of getting out of the thick ropes being futile caused him to stop, tears now forming at the corner of his eyes. With a pained pleading expression, Ashlei looked at Ven.

"Wh-Why..." Ashlei choked out, tears trailing more freely down his cheeks. It was against his principle to not speak in front of strangers, let alone those who he trusts. But he was desperate: he wanted to know what was going on, and he would do anything just to get out of the ropes.

Ven walked over with his weapon, his right hand stroking it as if it was a cat. He bent over on the same eye level as Ashlei, who's already on the verge of hyperventilation. He smirked at his captive's condition. "Just tell me where he is, and we'll let ya go. Whaddya say?" he said slowly, emerald green eyes piercing at Ashlei's aqua ones.

Though he could not hear his captor's voice, Ashlei can read the movement of his lips. The pink-headed Inkling shook his head in response.

"No?" Ven was rewarded with another shake of the head. "Tsk."

Ven turned around and walked away from Ashlei until he was a few feet away from the latter. Ashlei's eyes widened and struggled more as he helplessly watched Ven load his weapon, turning him into a hyperventilating fit.

"Won't say it?" He asked again with an unamused smirk, earning him another shake of the head. He sighed.

"Ah well." With a loaded Heavy Splatling, he open fired at Ashlei, hitting directly at the torso.

His tearful eyes wide, pupils shrunk and his mouth agape at the impact, Ashlei let out a pained cry that echoed across the docks. It was a relief to the orange team that there were no witnesses within the vicinity.

After a full minute blast with his weapon, Ven held back, and nodded to Anjel. The latter walked forward to Ashlei, whose upper body was slumped forward, clearly exhausted from the blast. With a harsh tug on the boy's bangs, Anjel forced Ashlei to look at him. An emotionless expression crossed Anjel's features.

"Tell us now?" He asked, earning him a weak shake of the head.

Anjel released the bangs, and turned to Ven with a shake of the head.

"Hold him up! Make sure he stands straight!" Ven called out, receiving a nod from his minion.

With a handkerchief, Anjel secured Ashlei's head to the pole, forcing the boy to stand up straight. Ven reloaded his weapon and pointed at Ashlei. He tilted the gun slightly to signal Anjel to move away, which the latter complied, before his boss fired again at the boy.

Now with something covered on his mouth, Ashlei's screams were mercilessly muffled, a faint outline of his gaping mouth embedded on the cloth.

Ven turned up the pressure of his gun, the paint blast pinning the boy's body deeply against the pole. The blast boomed throughout the area it muffled up Ashlei's already weakening screams.

"Ugh, great!" Ven groaned, shaking his weapon to find that it ran out of ink. A tap on the shoulder prompted him to turn to Anjel, whose face paled in horror. With a shaky finger, he pointed Ven to the boy whose body slumped forward. But that was not why Anjel was horrified about.

Panning from the boy's head down to the puddle at his feet, he noticed a deep dark-blue substance dripping from (what Anjel assumed) Ashlei's mouth, mixing in with the colored paint below.

"Cut him loose," Ven instructed his other minion, which they complied and cut the rope with a pocket knife, allowing Ashlei's body to fall forward into the puddle in a loud plop.

Letting down his weapon, Ven walked over and lifted a foot to flip the boy over to get a better look. Eyes shut, mouth slightly agape, a thin stream of dark-blue ink flowing down from the side of his mouth... a picture of an ideal brutal paint bath -- much worse than the regular battles anyone has done.

The minion took Ashlei's wrist and felt a faint pulse. Thankful that his back is facing Ven, the minion was implicitly relieved AND shocked that Ashlei survived the torture. He turned to Ven and shook his head. "Wasted."

Ven side-smirked at the satisfying result, before picking up his weapon and walked away, with two of his minions tailing behind him.

It was at their departure when the fingers started to twitch, his eyes struggling to open but to no avail, save for a thin stream of tears. With his remaining breath before falling into a rest, and with a hope that he would be found, he called out in a breathless whisper:

"B... Blaze..."

#first story #for my Splat oc #Blaze is my VBFFs OC for Splatoon #amaedraws writes #my writing is rusty #need to write more

3 notes · View notes

thedeadwritinggod · 3 years

Note

'You made a promise to yourself you'd finally do it on the first day of spring. Today was the day.' I'm pretty sure you know what couple I want with this and what it's implyinggg

Nsfw under the cuttttt

I pace outside the door to our room, I know he’s in there, waiting-for me- Ugh...

Okay, okay- Look Selena, you made a promise to yourself you’d finally do it on the first day of spring. Today is the day. I take a deep breath and shake off a bit of the anxiousness.

I go into the room and he is, indeed, waiting for me.

“Ev?”

“Yes, dear?” I go and sit across from him on the bed and end up shyly confessing that I have a heat...

He kisses my head and-“when does it start?” He doesn’t mind?

I blink a few times, “A few days...”

“Okay, I’ll take care of you.” He kisses me and I smile a little, trying to trust him.

We go over what needs to happen and the requirements-I make sure to stress that I only need it once per day...

“How will I know when it’s started?”

“I-...you’ll know, honey.”

He nods and it’s a few more days of anxiety and his gentle, loving comfort...

The night before I really don’t wanna get in bed with him... he realizes and- “Sweetie, it’ll be Okay...” he holds his hand out for me

After a deep, deep breath I put my hand in his, his warm palm incompasing wrapping around my whole hand and gently pulling me to bed.

I lay with him and take a deep breath, getting a mix of strawberry and that smell that’s distinctly him and that’s what I’m surrounded by as I drift into dream land. Safe in his arms.

I blink awake in the dead of night, whining and burying my nose into his neck-god he smells so good...

I only know I’m pressed against him because of how my tits squish against his chest...I moan out and quickly realize my legs are wrapped around one of his, his thigh presses to my pulsing entrance.

God he’s not even awake yet why can’t I stop thinking about his cock-

After a while, it’s taking everything in me not ride his thigh, I know my underwear is soaked but I can’t really bring myself to care. I-I just want him...

I press my nose into the little area between his jaw and his neck, squirming a little as I imagine his soft, warm hands on my hips. My breathing is shaky and I’m accutely aware of my trembling body.

“Mm...Sella...” he mumbles and my vision blurs a bit, imagining that as a groan from those pretty pink lips of his... I sit up a little and run my thumb along those pretty lips...

Wanna kiss him...wanna take these stupid clothes off and bounce...bounce...wait-what-

I blink a lot and pull away, I need to move away from him. I need to stop- I roll away from his body but since I’m laying on his arm he rolls me right back. Closer in fact and everything spikes.

I get hotter and I can feel my entrance pulsing around nothing in my shorts, I swallow and squirm a little-my shirt feeling deeply uncomfortable against my nipples.

I pull my shirt up over my chest and get right to tweaking and pulling at them, mewling and squirming as pleasure shoots through me. They’ll be squirting milk for his baby soon, I lick my lips as I fall deep into the rabbit hole of being his little breeder...

By the time I reign my mind back in, I find myself straddling his lap, panting, near drooling but I can’t really tell if it’s over his body or because I’m physically on fire...so much so that just his skin soothes the feeling.

Honestly, it feels kind of weird to really...fantasize about somebody, like I’ve imagined getting it but there’s never been a name or a face to it.

I’ve imagined hands on my body but they’ve never felt warm like his, I’ve imagined lips pressed to mine or to my skin but they’ve never been so soft. There’s never been a voice to the moans or words...or a name for me to say...

“Evan~” I purr softly, cupping his face gently, “Sella...” he smiles a little in his sleep...

I lean down and sigh softly at the feeling of his bare skin on mine...wait-I glance to my side of the bed and y e p I took my shirt off.

Fuck it-

I wake him up and he catches on fast and drags me into a hard kiss, I absolutely melt and moan against him-

I cannot describe how he went from making it better to making my body burn~

He sits up and I drag him further into the kiss, wrapping my legs around him and moan out again at the pressure, light as it is...

He pulls away and I whine softly chasing his lips but his hands find my hips and I shiver and melt, god his hands feel so good-

“Wha-what should I do-?” It’s soft and meak and I’m so glad I’m there enough to tell him, “Kiss my neck...”

His lips touch my skin and a moan is ripped from my throat-eve-everything feels so good c-can’t th-think-

“Ev-Evan~” I can feel his kisses trail down to my chest and he takes my nipple into his mouth and- “Ah~! Fuck me please~!” I feel him squeeze my hips gently and slip down to pull on my shorts

They come off and so does his underwear and I don’t remember anything after the pure stretch, overwhelming pleasure and the relentless feeling of everything...

Not until the warmth my body had been craving flooded into me anyways...

Th-there was so much-I think I blacked out a little-

Though I could still feel everything...when he layed back and kissed my hair, when he moved my head so I could hear his heart, I attempt to mumble ‘thank you...’ but I don’t know how well it gets across.

I end up being lulled back into sleep by his heartbeat...

#selena rathmore #evan rathmore #AU #naughty things

5 notes · View notes

veridium · 4 years

Text

fake happy

Well, whaddya know! The College AU is back, baby! Unfortunately June was pretty much hell in a handbasket, so writing took a backseat. But, we are far from done. Thank you to everyone for sighting tight, and to @bitchesofostwick for being a very patient co-author.

So, where were we? Ah, yes, the holiday weekend from hell. On with the show! Title bought to you by a great Paramore song.

masterpost // last chapter

“Hey baby cakes!”

The moment she hears the shrill greeting whilst getting out of her car in the sandstone-colored driveway, Olivia knows she’s in a chapter of Dante’s Inferno. All the calmness she had with Ellinor earlier that day is gone; it is easier said than done enduring four days in the house of Paula Sinclair.

“Hey,” she rushes over her shoulder, pulling the side lever to release the trunk where her bags are kept. Just two, one of clothes and toiletries and the other books and supplies to do assignments. She’ll need the preoccupation as an excuse for the gauntlet of trials her Mom will invite her to.

As she’s filing her luggage out onto the driveway, she sees her Mom’s shadow approaching. She glances and sees her in all her glory: an olive green sundress with one of those straw pool hats. She was probably out basking in the sun all afternoon before this. Olivia is surprised she thought to put down whatever spiked beverage she must have had with her to come outside and greet her only child.

“Did you have a safe drive? You certainly did not rush to get home safe,” Paula says, halting and crossing her arms.

Olivia slams the trunk closed and huffs, slinging one bag’s strap over her shoulder and the other on her opposite forearm. “I woke up late, and had to help Ellinor pack.” Sorry, Ellinor.

“Ellinor! I will miss her this year.” A lie said out of convenience. The whole time Ellinor stays with them, Paula shoots her peculiar questions about her personal life or her political views. Ellinor knows better now after these last couple of years how to play them off, but Paula can’t help but size people up. It’s how she cultivates all her complaints.

“I will, too,” Olivia lets out as she makes her way to the front door, past the splendorous potted plants and fake green grass turf. Her Mother saunters behind her through the open door.

Once inside Olivia notices what’s missing, and sets her smaller bag down.

“Wh--”

“No no, do not just leave that there! Take it to the mud room or your bedroom.”

Olivia bites back a groan and turns around to face Paula as she shuts and locks the large-ass, gaudy-ass front door. “Fine. Where is Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

“...the dog, Mother.”

“Nemo! Oh, psh,” she waves her acrylics. “He is off in the yard. I kept him outside because the carpet steamers came this morning. You know how his muddy little paws are! Now, do I not get a hug?”

Olivia tenses up from head to toe, seeing her Mother coming in for the hug she didn’t wait for permission for. At least Nemo isn’t mysteriously gone -- she’s read too many horror stories online of people’s parents being complete monsters about their old family pets dying, and not telling the children who live elsewhere -- but Paula keeps Nemo out in the yard for days at a time when she gets the carpets cleaned. He will need company, and not just the husband going out and practicing his golf swing adjacent to him.

Oh, right, there’s a husband around here.

Paula hugs her with her arms draped over Olivia’s shoulders, rather than around her waist like a good bear hug. Something Dad would know how to do.

“I imagine Fred is off shooting, stuffing, or smoking something,” she mutters over her Mother’s shoulder, to which Paula gently swats at her shoulder and guffaws.

“No, silly! He’s in the yard with Nemo, your fellow prisoner,” she teases, picking up on Olivia’s dread with her trademark passive aggression. Only three minutes in the door, a new record.

“I didn’t say he couldn’t do those things out in the yard.” Lord knows he has before.

“Where do you think our holiday meal comes from every year?”

“COSTCO, like God and Uncle Sam intended, right?”

“Ugh, Olivia, your humor changes every year you’re at that College. Don’t be so morose.”

She takes a breath and picks up her eyesore of a bag so that it does not further desecrate the sanctity of the foyer, and makes for the curved staircase just across the pristine hardwood. “I’m just tired from the drive, Mom. I’m going to go upstairs and get settled.”

“Okay, and come downstairs soon! I wanna catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay!”

She glances behind her but her Mother is already vanished. Sure, catch up, but not too quick! Releasing her bated breath she lurches up the rest of the stairs. The place is heavily renovated from the home it originally was when her parents bought it. In the beginning they didn’t have much -- well, much compared to what Paula has now -- and so their first nest was a fixer upper. Year after year, corny wallpaper became fresh painted walls, and thick upholstered couches handed down from in-laws became brand new installations from the boutiques downtown. Two additions to the place upgraded it from a modest family home to a wannabe mansion. Olivia grew up in this ever-changing little kingdom of improvements, but only when she was a newly-minted adult did she realize she was one of its fixtures.

The one comfort had always been that her Father dwelled there with her. He brought heart and humanity to the kingdom of objects: his muddy shoes by the front door, not the “mud room.” His fishing rods hung up on the garage rack. His barbeque out in the yard. They weren’t all state-of-the-art, but they were his. But, by now, they, too, were all gone. ‘Improvements’ in every stead, including his.

Olivia had one sacrosanct place left, and that was her childhood room. Walking down the hall decorated with big, framed portraits of the family -- none of her Father, though, to be sure -- she found her door, the second one to the right in the west hallway. “West” being the original upstairs hallway, the only hallway, before construction added the one referred to as the “East.” She pushed the ajar door open and slid in to see it as she remembered: the bright lavender purple walls strewn with posters, pictures, and a tapestry up behind her bed. The pearly purple carpet smelled of the carpet cleaner, but it did not mask the smell of vanilla she expected. On the opposite wall from the door, her princess bed complete with ivory white canopy was freshly made. Her bedspread was white, with pillows in alternating shades of green and lilac. Years ago she fought endlessly for her Mother to let her paint her room a darker color than the baby pink it was first. Thanks to her Dad, they “compromised” with purple. Sadly, Paula took that as “the lightest shades of purple” and so it was.

In the details, though, there was Olivia’s rebellion. The posters, Paramore, My Chemical Romance, and an old one from a Sheryl Crow concert she found on Amazon, contrasted the brightness with a grit. To the left by her small balcony doors, her vanity mirror and stool were covered with polaroid pictures, concert tickets, movie ticket stubs, and bracelets. She had taken all of her incriminating, “immodest” makeup with her to college, so all that remained were an old bottle of sunscreen, some pastel eyeshadow palettes, and lip glosses. So many lip glosses.

Olivia dropped her shit in the middle of the floor and made for the reading chair in the far corner, where she collapsed into a curled, reticent ball of conflicted emotions. She predicted this -- she dreaded this -- and now, here she is. The first day is always a test of anxiety, more so than enduring mistreatment. Paula is always good on the first day -- great, sometimes. She is generous, and outgoing, and doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The grueling part comes after the first night ends and she realizes she has to do something with her daughter who isn’t just in for dinner and giggling. That’s when she remembers how she actually feels, and who she actually is. And with no one like Ellinor to buffer and provide excuses for her not standing in one place for too long, it’ll be particularly concentrated.

She slides limply against the plush chair and closes her eyes. It was a stressful drive full of hasty college kids getting home to their more harmonious families. Olivia was in no rush, though. Three trips through various drive thrus surely added time.

Her phone goes off, and she slips her phone out of her back jean pocket.

Ellinor: You ready to walk the plank yet?

Smirking, Olivia replies:

-- I am already keeling over the edge. How is your family?

Ellinor: I nearly did a drop and roll out of Lyssa’s car on the way here, but they’re bearable. They are who they usually are. No surprises, this holiday season!

-- One of these years we’ll be successful enough to buy everyone therapy for Christmas.

Ellinor: No shit, I’m making them pay for mine first.

Olivia is replying when another notification comes up, an instagram like this time, from Maryden. Grinning she taps on it. Maryden finally saw the group pic they all took at the fair: her, Ellinor, Cullen, and then Olivia and Cass in the bottom corner. Olivia had made Cass hold the phone due to height advantage. Her grin expands before it sinks fast.

Ah, fuck.

She pulls up her messages again and sees the one Cassandra sent her while she was driving and unable to check.

Cassandra: Text me when you arrive safe. ❤️

The heart emoji. Olivia’s cheeks turn hot, and she hastily types.

-- Here in purgatory!

The sound of a man shouting something, and then laughing, rings from the balcony windows. Fred must be huffing and puffing about something amusing, like meat or guns. She can’t wait for all his odd comments and attempts to “relate” that almost always devolve into him talking about whatever season of sport he’s onto and her nodding along. Poor man. He makes sea sponges seem like sophists.

Soon after sending, Cassandra replies, an opportunity Olivia doesn’t predict:

Cassandra: Awesome. my Uncle has stopped us for gas, still about 40 minutes out.

-- That’s good. Hopefully you won’t get stuck in rush hour.

Cassandra: My Uncle sucks at navigating traffic, so I wouldn’t bet on it.

-- Lol

Cassandra: You alright?

Olivia is sort of surprised by the question and its sensitivity, albeit direct.

-- Just tired from the drive, that’s all

Cassandra: You love driving. You would drive the entire stretch of the coast highway without blinking once.

Damn, Cassandra. A bold insight. A correct one, too.

-- 🤷🏼‍♀️

Five seconds after she hits send, Cassandra calls her. She nearly drops the phone on the floor, and her slack posture goes full vertical. She checks that the door is closed, only to decide to leap, rush, and lock it just in case. Then she hurries to the farthest corner of the room and hits answer right on the last ring.

“No, Detective, I will not submit to the polygraph.”

Cassandra’s voice rings almost playfully. “Very well, we have other ways of making you talk.”

There’s the hot blush again. “Uh, a-alright, who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” She hushes a bit, and hopes Cassandra doesn’t notice.

“Nothing! My Uncle is in the gas station doing who-knows-what, so I’m stuck in here, boot and all.”

“I’m not kidding, I saw that Liam Neeson movie, I know how this goes. I have a special set of skills--”

“What do I have to do? Express my distaste for something? Quote Plato?”

“...It would be reassuring.”

Cassandra laughs coyly, and despite everything, it livens her spirit. She didn’t expect Cassandra to be in so playful a mood traveling back home. She was cool but unhappy about it that morning when they parted ways, entertained only by Olivia’s presence and a strong cup of coffee. Without the ability to drive due to her ankle, her illustrious but mysterious Uncle had to be the one to pick her up and take her back to her family.

“I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I thought that was what the texting was for,” Olivia replies more curtly than she intends. She gnaws at her bottom lip.

“Sometimes it is worth the extra effort to call.”

“That is very un-millenial of you, you know. Horrifying.”

“Maybe so. Ugh, what is that man doing?” there’s sounds of Cassandra rustling against the leather seat, probably checking in through the window. “Probably searching for that expensive jerky he gets at Trader Joe’s like it will just magically turn up at an ARCO.”

“Who’s to say it won’t? People of all walks of life can enjoy finer things.”

“Yes, but not just the ‘finer’ things,” she then huffs. “Look, I don’t have much time, so if you aren’t in the mood to talk about what is bothering you, I can let you go and we can talk later.”

“I don’t know if I will be able to. My Mom wants to ‘catch up,’ which in her language means I get a hundred questions and the occasional asinine one from Fred.”

“Fred’s your stepfather, right?”

“He’s...my Mother’s husband.”

“I see.”

She mulls her teeth and looks around aimlessly. Cassandra goes ‘hm’ but nothing else.

“How are you able to talk so much?” Olivia asks, diverting the subject. “Aren’t you worried your family will pry?”

“The good thing about holidays in my family is there are so many people around, you can get a great deal of private time if you are smart enough. Which is exactly what I intend to do. Ugh...he...oh, sorry. I thought my Uncle was coming back, but it was just another man.”

“Yeah, but you said they have superhuman abilities for nosiness.”

“They do. And I have superhuman talents of evasion. They’ll peck and prod about the ankle boot, though. Usually I can slip away to the gym or for a run to get away from them but...of course...can’t do that. Doctors don’t trust me to set foot in a weight room and it’s been weeks since my injury.”

“Cass, it’s been two weeks, almost precisely.”

“I said weeks, didn’t I? Look, overextending is not the same as knowing my limits. They’re the medical professionals, but they don’t live in this body 24/7.”

Olivia grimaces with sympathy, though she can’t say she agrees given how easy it is for Cassandra to throw herself into things without caution. “Uh huh.”

“Ugh, forgive me. I won’t be able to talk everyday, but I would like to try sometimes, okay? I promise it won’t all be about my messed up ankle.”

Olivia smirks. “You’re being very…”

“Very…what?”

Olivia stalls. Is it an asshole thing to do, saying your girlfriend is being more sensitive and caring than usual? Maybe not “more,” but in a different way. An unusual way. She could have really taken Olivia’s hurt feelings over how she acted about her injury. She could be really trying. But now, in the lion’s den, Olivia’s unsure about whether the timing of it is...well, ideal.

“Nevermind, I lost my train of thought,” she excuses. “I appreciate you.”

“It’s no trouble. Now, I think my Uncle is coming back. Ugh, he got a whole bag of things...probably for me. Seeing me with my boot triggered his overprotective nerve extra hard.”

“Oh, no, sour patch kids! The torture!” Olivia teases. An ounce of her regular self bleeds through.

“Very funny. I will text you later. Be safe, alright?”

“Alright. You, too.” She then remembers and slips it in before they hang up: “L-let me know when you get home, too, okay?”

“...O-okay.” There’s a pause, the kind of awkward pause when the thing you say -- the particular thing -- happens. But since they aren’t there yet, it’s full of pause and anxiety.

“Okay,” Olivia takes her turn to smooth it over. “Bye!”

“Bye.”

Hanging up kills the feeling of safety. She looks into the big oval mirror at her dresser vanity and watches her grin crack, then disappear all-together. The scene in her reflected surroundings loses its luster. Even with all the impossibilities, she kind of wishes Cassandra was with her. It almost makes her laugh at herself: what, would she have driven up with her in the passenger’s seat, hear “hey baby cakes!” and smile, saying “hey Mom, here’s my girlfriend! You’re suddenly not biphobic, right? Oh and by the way she’s a Pentaghast, so, there’s that!” and they all retire to the sitting room for tea and introductions. Right.

She turns and sees her unpacked bags, her only company. She rubs her forehead slowly with the back of her hand. She has experience being left to her own devices with her Mother. Hell, she has a lifetime of it with her. A long weekend won’t be anything particularly gruesome, and if it is, well, she’s survived them before.

Fifteen minutes later she has everything organized and put away -- she won’t unpack much, anyway. A quick change into some leggings and a t-shirt, a toss of her hair into a ponytail, and she’s ready to face the music. She’s careful to shut her bedroom door before she descends down the hall and the stairs, betting that her Mother is out in the yard on one of the lounge chairs. She finds her there, indeed lounging, with that missing cocktail restored to her.

Unmoved but always observant, her Mother inquires: “Settled in?”

Olivia puts on her best polite grin and sits down on the lounge chair five feet away. On the grass, Fred is dressed in pastel blue polo and cargo shorts like the overgrown fraternity pledge he is, throwing a frisbee for Nemo. Nemo, the 10 year old yellow lab, who can scarcely go up the stairs without being winded these days. Too bad for Fred the minute Olivia shows herself, the grey-faced dog bounds in his own way over to the long last playmate.

“Nemo! You little prince!” she smiles, crouching down to embrace him. His tail is wagging a million miles per hour, and he fills her face with old dog breath. His tickling gets her to finally laugh.

“Good grief,” she hears her Mom say, “Olivia, don’t let him lick your mouth!”

“I’m fine!” she says through her giggles, rubbing his chest and back as she stands upright. “It won’t kill me.”

“Ugh.”

That joy was short lived. She returns to the chair she chose and does her best to make as little eye contact as possible as she sits and sprawls her legs out. Nemo follows circles around her, tail still going.

“Do we know what the plans are for Thanksgiving?” Olivia asks, expecting the same answer as always. Dinner at home with Fred’s relatives and those in Mom’s family who she isn’t on the outs with, all above the age of 35 for the most part, and vote like it. Another dinner she’ll have to dress way too modestly and matronly for her age in order to fit in for the group photo.

“Well, that is what I wanted to surprise you with,” Paula answers.

Olivia side-eyes her Mom, and delays opening up her phone to scroll through Twitter. “What?”

“We will be having dinner with the family as always, but earlier this week we received a surprise invitation for us to attend a holiday party later on this weekend.”

“You aren’t going to spend the holiday campaigning, are you?”

“‘Campaigning’ has a broad definition, Olivia, and it is never a bad idea to become more familiar with one’s community constituents.”

Olivia frowns and resumes scrolling. Great, likely another fundraiser or gala, not something substantially humble like volunteering time with those genuinely in need, who are also her “constituents.” She saved the label for those she could depend on to write a donation check -- the other 80% of society barely existed.

“I assume then you are expecting me to go?”

There’s a sound of Paula’s magazine of choice turning a page. “What do you think the surprise was?”

“That as much as you would like me to come, that you respect my choice not to so that I can have a quiet, restful weekend at home before Finals are in full swing?”

No response for going out on that limb. The proverbial crickets chirp, and Olivia knows her point was deliberately missed.

“Or,” she corrects herself, “that you want me to go.”

“Yes, silly girl. And for your information, even if I didn’t want you to come, the invitation specifically noted you.”

“P-pardon me?” She looks up.

Paula shakes her head and smiles. “When were you going to tell me you were making friends with the Pentaghast family?”

“I...I-I’m not!”

“You must be, there was a handwritten note in the card, your name and all.”

Olivia can feel a stroke coming on. The heat of the day now feels like a vise around her throat, a semi-truck on her chest. She jerks up and turns to look at her Mother dead on, who is still flipping through her latest issue of Vogue, sunglasses and sunhat and all.

“So...so they wrote me in? Me, specifically?”

“Yes, that is what I said! Goodness, calm down, you’ll give yourself a heat stroke.”

Too late. “Why? Aren’t they one of the big blue families? Why would they want to invite y--”

“Are you insinuating that I do not belong in a bipartisan space? Olivia, I work in one for a living. This whole business of networking is par for the course. In fact, it is a long time coming. The Pentaghasts should be taking the ‘other side’ more seriously. I have been in this town’s political realm for seven years, now. They cannot always hide behind their old money and liberal hypocrisy of “inclusion.””

There is that rhetorical savvy and venom. Quintessentially Paula. Olivia falls back on the lounge chair and stares out into the lawn, mouth open and words lost. Where to begin? Hey, Mom, don’t think so highly of yourself, they’re only inviting you to get to me! Because they want to sniff me out as one of their many daughters’ lovers! You’re full of shit!

“Do I have to go? I am serious about wanting rest. This semester has been a lot, an--”

“A semester that I paid for,” Paula cut in, turning yet another page. “It is restful to be with your family. You should consider yourself lucky, Olivia, that spending time with us is so comfortable. You have this nice home to come back to, and good people to spend time with, and beautiful parties to go to. A girl your age in a lesser position would claw someone’s eyes out for the chance to live the life you get to. Is it so really so demanding?”

The shots to the gut have started early. So much for the easy first day. She wishes even more she could pop her Mother’s balloon, but it would mean ultimate disaster for her in the end. Out in the open Fred is still trying to get Nemo to chase the damn frisbee, clearly aware that he should stay away from the two debating blondes. Olivia rolls her lips shut and tries her hardest to swallow the hunk of pride at the back of her throat, but there’s no room in her stomach. It’s completely filled to the top with anxiety about what it means to be going to this party.

Then it hits her: Cassandra is going to shoot through the roof.

“Fine, Mom. I’ll go.” The clock then starts ticking for her to find a covert way out of it beforehand. She’s dove deep into her head, and only catches half of her Mother’s pleased response.

“--something classy, the party is black tie optional.”

“Okay.”

“I also have an appointment for us to get our nails done tomorrow at 11, so do not sleep in too much.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. She does another fake smile as she pulls up her messages on her phone in order to deploy the distress signal:

-- Change of plan, I need you to call me as soon as you are able. Your family sent an invitation to mine for their big party this weekend. My Mom is insisting we go. Code red.

#fic update #college au #modern thedas au #college!olivia #olivia sinclair #ellinor trevelyan #day & age #WE'RE BACK BABY

13 notes · View notes

tera-91 · 4 years

Text

Birthday Dread .. Maybe?

Hope everyone likes this! Please feel free to give any feed back I love hearing from you 💜

Summary: It’s Virgil’s birthday he is dreading the attention. Will he get his soul jewelry or will he left without anything? He’s too afraid to look.

Word Count: 2294

Warnings: Remus being not PG

Pairing: Royality, hints of trashnoodle (I changed Deceit’s name to somewhat reflect on the now revealed name but I have left it out to avoid spoilers for those who haven't seen the newest episode)

Virgil walked down the sidewalk. He had walked down this particular sidewalk easily a million times before as he made his way to the store. Today was not a typical day, however. Today was his nineteenth birthday. He didn’t feel any different. Was he supposed to? He wasn’t sure.

A shiver ran up his spine. He looked around to see most of the people out and about staring at him. It being a small town, everyone knew it was his birthday, they all wanted to know. Virgil ducked and pulled his hood up over his head. As much as he wanted to just stand in front of a mirror and stare at his body to find out what kind of jewelry he would get all day long, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

It only took him five minutes to get to the store. His hands twitched the entire, agonizing five minutes. He wanted to look at his hands as they were the only body part he could see if he tried. He refused to look at his hands or feel around his neck or ears until he was no longer in public. He grabbed a shopping basket without looking. Luckily his sleeves were excessively long as he grabbed the few items he needed and made his way to the checkout. He simply placed the basket on the belt and refused to make eye contact with the cashier.

“So it’s your big day huh Virgi.” The cashier giggled as they peered over their sunglasses and gave him an up down look. Virgil rolled his eyes. He should’ve known better than to go to the register with Remi working it. He simply nodded and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Have you seen it yet hun?

He shook his head and handed Remi his card. “I haven’t looked yet. I wasn’t born until the afternoon anyway so I doubt it would be wherever it’s going to appear.” He said as he took his card back. He was glad his voice didn’t waiver or break. His anxiety was through the roof.

“Alright but don’t push yourself. Last thing I need is to get a call from poor Remus that you’ve hyperventilated and passed out again.” Remi giggled as he handed Virgil his bag

“Haha, it was one time and you know that trash panda found it amusing.” Virgil said sarcastically as he refused to even try to look where the bag was. Of course, he completely missed the fabric handles.

“I wouldn’t-“ Remi began as he put the handles against Virgil’s fingers so the poor guy could actually take his bag.

“He drew on my face while I was unconscious.” Virgil deadpanned.

“Uh huh, girl listen tell me all about it later ok?” Remi said with a smile.

Virgil simply grunted and made his way out the sliding door and back up the sidewalk. Ugh he wanted the attention off of him, he could still feel the eyes on him. He was just glad he didn’t have a long way to go, that meant the less time people could stare at him.

He walked into his small apartment and kicked his shoes off and made his way into the kitchen to put things away. Virgil went into his bedroom. He needed a nap, his nerves were fried.

He plopped himself on his, still unmade, bed and put his headphones in. He laid there for a few songs when the volume dipped, an indication that he had gotten a text. Virgil gulped; did he want to pick up his phone? He might see his hands. He sighed and kept his hands in his sleeve and pushed the button on his phone to see who texted him.

The screen brightly displayed it had been Roman who had texted him. Virgil sighed, Roman was a whirlwind of a friend. Both in a good and a bad way. Roman usually texted him to rant when he just couldn’t form words, to find Remus, or he was drunk. Virgil chuckled as he thought of how a drunk Roman was equally as boisterous, but he was also a bit more openly affectionate. With a swipe of his finger he unlocked his phone.

Princy: Virgil! Happy Birthday! Hope you are having the most enchanted day! – 4 hours ago

Oops.

Princy: V something crazy happened!! My ring changed! - now

Virgil tilted his head. Roman’s soul ring changed? He had never heard of that happening. Virgil tapped the talk button to text him back. He was glad he lived alone.

V: What do you mean it changed?

Princy: I looked at it like an hour ago and the baby blue in the middle has a metallic purple swirl in it now! V I’m freaking out here!

Virgil sighed as he rubbed his temple. Roman was always one for the dramatic reactions. Then again, his brother was just as dramatic but less PG about it.

V: Have you talked to Patton?

It took several minutes for Roman to reply. For a moment Virgil thought the other might have thrown his phone and bolted out the door to find said cinnamon roll.

Princy: He’s here. The wings on his heart pendant changed from clear to purple!

Virgil fell back onto his bed. Those two would probably work each other up.

V: I’ll be over there soon.

He walked out of his room into his living room and froze. There was someone on his couch. It took him a second to realize it was Remus. “Hey trash panda! How many times do I have to tell you not just pop over like that.”

“Virgil! Where’s your birthday suit?” Remus asked as he draped himself over the back of the couch. A chill ran up Virgil’s spine as he realized Remus was shirtless. He hoped that was the only clothing he lacked. Virgil sighed, he knew Remus was just trying to get a reaction out of him but where was Jay when you needed him.

“I’m going over to your place. Apparently, your brother is freaking out about something.” Virgil said as he reached for his keys.

“Ah yes. Him and the blushy one.” Remus said as he put his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned on his hand. “They were getting loud so I went to see if I could join the fun.” Remus grinned at Virgil. Just as quick as the smile came, it fell. “They were in the kitchen and the blushy one was covered in flour and they were staring at Roman’s hand. No blood, no clothes missing, no fun. So, I left.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “Just make sure you lock the door if you leave.” He walked down the sidewalk for the second time that day. Luckily Roman’s house was right up the road and one block over so there was no point to drive and it wouldn’t take him too long to get there.

He barely made it to the porch and up to the red door before it opened up and he was pulled in by his hood. “Roman! You know I hate when you do that!” Virgil said as he fixed his jacket.

“Virge it’s an emergency!” Roman practically yelled.

Virgil sighed and looked around to see if he could see Patton. He didn’t. “Ro, where’s Patton?”

“He – uh.” Roman looked around and rubbed the back of his neck. “He may be in the bedroom, hiding under the blankets.” Virgil wasn’t sure what to call the feeling but something akin to anger and frustration spiked through him. “We were watching for you to walk by.” Roman seemed to read Virgil’s mind and the feeling vanished as quick as it came. He swiftly made his way to the bedroom. He wasn’t shocked to see all the pillows and fluffy blankets on Roman’s bed but it made it difficult to immediately spot Patton. He cautiously made his way next to the bed and reached to pat around to make sure he didn’t accidently sit on the other. He barely made contact with the blanket before a tanned arm reached out and pulled him down. He braced himself for the contact, but the blankets were softer than he imagined. A warm weight settled against his side.

It took Virgil a few moments to get his bearings but once he did, he realized that Patton had snuggled up to his side. Virgil looked down at the smaller one. Patton had his head on Virgil’s chest and soul pendant in his hand. He could see the pretty, once white wings now turned an almost amethyst purple as Patton rubbed the candy apple red heart of his pendant with his thumb, clearly lost in thought.

“You ok Pat?” Virgil asked softly as he shifted himself slowly so they both would be comfortable. He had a feeling they were going to be like that for a while, well unless Roman crawled in too.

“I’m confused.” Patton admitted. “I don’t know why it changed.” He paused as he resettled once Virgil was done getting comfortable. “I feel bad this happened on your birthday. We should be having fun, not whatever this is.” He said.

“It’s ok Pat.” Virgil said as he rubbed his hand up and down Patton’s arm. He knew the contact would sooth him. “Roman’s changed too. Has anything changed with you two?” Virgil asked lightly, careful to not make it seem like he was implying anything. Patton was silent. Virgil was beginning to get nervous. Had something really happened? He had heard of rare cases that people accidently got together with the wrong person because both their jewelry coincidentally had the same colors. Could it be that they had gotten into a bad enough argument that their jewelry changed? He had never seen Roman and Patton fight before. He could feel his breathing become shallower as his anxiety started to sink in. Patton lightly patted his chest to rouse him out of his impending spiral.

“We didn’t have a fight or anything.” Patton said as he ducked his head. Virgil thought he might have been seeing things as he though Patton’s face seemed to be a little more red than normal. Virgil took a deep breath and relaxed as the smell of sandalwood and citrus filled his senses. The two laid there for a long time, Patton periodically shifted and hugged Virgil. At some point Virgil accidently fell asleep.

A hand on his shoulder made Virgil jump. He looked around and saw Roman standing over him with a concerned look on his face. Virgil looked down at Patton who was looking up at Roman with bleary eyes. Virgil couldn’t figure out if he had also fallen asleep or he had been crying but he looked back at Roman.

“Everything alright Roman?” Virgil asked as he reached up and rubbed his eye with the heel of his left hand.

Suddenly a green blur entered the room and slammed against the bedroom door. Virgil instinctively grabbed Romans arm, pulled him onto the bed, and pulled Patton closer to his side. After a moment he realized it was just Remus.

“Birthday, birthday, its your day.” Remus began to sing with a shallow bow. He straightened and twisted his mustache, not too dissimilar a villain. “Look at this mustache!” he almost bellowed as he pulled a cake from behind his back as if performing a magic trick. “Look at this cake wouldn’t you say that I have come to slay?” He continued as he placed the cake on the desk before he started to unbutton his shirt. “Now the serenade is done it is time to-” A pillow, thrown with scary accuracy and hit him in the face.

“Out trash panda out!” Virgil said as he grabbed another pillow. Remus ran out of the room cackling.

The three sat on the bed in stunned silence for a few moments before Roman reached out and touched Virgil’s shoulder. “I – I’m sorry about my brother.” He said as he scooted behind Virgil and Patton. Faintly they could all hear the sound of someone else’s laugh. Great Jay was in on it too. At least the pair knew well enough to not come back in the room.

Virgil sighed and ran his hand down his face. “It’s fine, I’ve known him for what close to ten years now. He’s eccentric this isn’t exactly new to me Ro, but Jay really should get control of his boyfriend.” He vaguely registered a sight cold feeling on the back of his hand, but he just chalked it up to his hand slipping from his hoodie sleeve. He froze as he suddenly felt eyes on him. Virgil hesitantly glanced over at Roman and Patton. Patton’s eyes widened in surprise as his hand quickly covered his mouth, Roman just sat there as if he was a stone statue.

“Wha-what?” Virgil asked, suddenly very interested in the doorway that Remus had just exited through. He cautiously followed their gaze to his hand. At first he didn’t see anything but then he noticed something shiny around his wrist.

Patton reached out and gently grabbed Virgil’s hand. As he gingerly intertwined their fingers, he turned their hands so that Virgil’s hand was palm down as Patton rested their hands on his knee. Virgil stared at his hand. A thick black metal bracelet with purple metallic moons wrapped around his wrist and a black metal ring with purple stripes encircled his middle finger. The two were connected by a comparatively dainty chain. On the chain was a metallic purple moon, robin egg blue star, a metallic red star, and a third black star that matched the bracelet and ring.

@tinkslittlebelle @teacupfulofstarshine @random-name-here @kindly-falling @xx-fandom-potato-xx @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @sandersfander1820 @downrightdanny @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @princeanxious @sammys-ghostz @nope-not-more @moltengoldenstardust

@coolerthan-a-vintagecassette @j-d-lightful @could-always-be-gayer-2 @altruistic-skittles @c4t1l1n4 @dutifullystrangequeerdom @i-read-by-lamp @thatcacidork @bigfirecreator @badluckkaren @eternal-optimists-world

@ironwoman359

#Sanders sides #Sanders sides fic #Roman sanders #Virgil sanders #Patton sanders #deceit #remus sanders #human au #soul jewelry #tera-91

7 notes · View notes

forkanna · 4 years

Link

[AO3 LINK] [WATTPAD] [QUOTEV]

WARNING: This chapter is mildly NSFW.

NOTE: Apologies for the delay! I had to go to bed extra early last night because I had a busy, dizzy day today. Hopefully you enjoy this update regardless!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"HemmmMRPHLG!"

That was the best description of what came out of Anna's mouth. Worse yet, Elsa could feel every vibration in one of the most sensitive areas on her body. She squeaked and scrambled down into the water as quickly as was humanly possible, but it was too late. Far too late.

"I… I'm sorry, Anna, I'm so clumsy, what- I normally can handle myself! I'm a runway model, for God's sake! UGH! What is wrong with me?!"

But Anna was still dazed. Just sitting there with her glittering emerald eyes blinking at the tiles opposite herself, not even looking at Elsa. And the star understood; she had a lot to process now.

"Anna? Are… you angry with me?" She swallowed down the spike of pure adrenaline. "You are. I'm… I am so sorry. Maybe I should go."

"Go? It's… your room." Then she finally let out a weak little laugh. "Wow, so… that was… super unexpected; I'm stunned over here. Like, you glow up like whoa. So gorgeous!"

The actor wrapped her arms tightly around her body, as she normally did in these situations. Not that one quite like this had ever happened before. Blood rushed in her ears as she shrank in on herself, chest tight, literally shaking. Craving a way to dive down deep into the bubbling waters. "I… I should have told you, I… you…"

"Oh, no, no, it's cool! Woke, remember? I'm not gonna judge, no way." There was that word again. When there was no response, she tried, "Elsa?"

But she couldn't speak. This was a nightmare. She had never accidentally come out to someone before; it was always a choice, and she had a speech lined up, and steps she could take. Plans to ease her anxiety. And now it was all coming apart, her world was-

Trim arms wrapped tightly around her, squeezing tight. Elsa thrashed for just a second before she registered a cheek rubbing her shoulder and remembered it wasn't someone trying to hurt her. It was Anna. A friend.

"You're okay. I got you."

Still trembling, she slowly began to nod. "I… was going to tell you. Right now. I just… didn't mean to-"

"No big. Like I said, I'm no Boomer; you're whoever you are in your heart. But damn, girl, you look so good. I'm losing my shit over here!"

"Thank you," she sighed with a weak smile. Here came this part; it was unavoidable. "I just… want to be taken seriously based on my talent alone. Honey and the casting director, and my agent, and um, the guy who plays my romantic interest are the only ones who know on set. Funny, Brixton took the news a lot easier, but he still… freaked out a little, and then overcompensated by flattering me a lot. That's why I'm not out, why… I don't do swimsuit calendars, or nude scenes, or… it's just going to draw attention, and then I'll be Laverne. She's so gracious about being a poster child, but I just have never had any desire for that to define me, or… all that attention focused on my private life instead of my career."

"No, yeah, I kinda get it. Like… I'm never gonna know what you're going through with either thing, the acting or, um, that." She pointed down toward the surface of the water, and Elsa sank lower in embarrassment. "But I mean, I told you I'm bi. So that part doesn't matter to me. If you're a woman, you're a woman, y'know? And if you're a woman who's packing some heat, well hey, I know how to handle one of those so it's definitely not a dealbreaker for me!"

Elsa chuckled and flashed her a morose smile. "I suppose that makes sense."

"And this is still gonna be my first real lesbian thing, if we go past sitting in a tub together," she laughed. "Besides one girl I made out with at a frat party. And she had braces, so I can totally strike her from the record."

"Ew!" she laughed. "I hope they were clean!"

"They were, she's a good brusher. Just like, the metal… it felt weird, couldn't get past it. Maybe that makes me a dick, I dunno."

"A dink?" They shared a knowing grin. "Thanks for being so good about this - all of it. And I know, I'm not supposed to be grateful, since my gender is valid and so on. But I still can only think about how bad this would go if you weren't so progressive."

"Progressive? Like I'm a name-your-price tool? Dude, I'm just normal. It's the douchebags who wouldn't accept you who are, like… what's the opposite of progressive? Regressive? They're that."

Finally, Elsa felt the knot of anxiety ease… and elation took over. Everything was fine. She had come out to Anna and she wasn't rejected, she wasn't being viewed as a monster. Christmas had arrived a little late for her but it was just as welcome as if it had been on time.

"Soooo. Just to get this big ol' elephant outta here, you did sit on my face. Since we're gay does that mean we did it?"

"BLRPHG!" she burst out — being that she had tried to shout something while also ducking her head low enough the water covered her mouth. Then she started coughing said water up, and Anna had to pound her on the back. "Ah! Oooh, that… that did not feel good."

"Didn't sound good! Sorry… I'm just trying to lighten the mood or something."

"Right! Of course. But… for that to be true, I would have to have gone through with bottom surgery. And I haven't yet."

"So? Like, I still got a mouthful of your ballllllgina!" she hastily amended, wincing and grimacing hard after she finished the fused word. "That. Um, I… yeah, that was super fucking dumb, I don't know what I'm say...ing?"

She trailed off because Elsa was laughing. Really truly laughing again, rocking back as her ruddy cheeks bunched, arms still clamped tight around her waist. Anna merely sat there with a raised eyebrow until she burst out, "Ballgina!"

"Okay, okay," she giggled weakly, ears reddening. "S-sometimes I sound like a doof, I know this."

"You're utterly adorable." Then she leaned in, intending to hug her.

Instead, her lips found another set and they shared a very unexpected first kiss.

To Be Continued…

#Very Important Person #elsanna fanfiction #forkanna writes #elsanna #jess the writer #nsfw--text

7 notes · View notes

neko-shinigxmi · 5 years

Note

For the F/O Love Tropes ask meme, how about all of 'em with Wrench? 😸

F/O Love Tropes Asks || You’re the maddest of lads...

Aborted Declaration of Love: How long did it take for you to finally confess to your F/O? How did it go? Were there several attempts, or was it just The One?

Well, definitely a few months with the crew... It started around the time of me joining, with Wrench having some interest and vice versa, but it was far MORE time before all that tension could bubble up into a, “Hey, you wanna go out with me?” That, and some meddling on Retr0′s part to make it happen faster, LMAO!

As for how it went... Heh, well, he made his point known, y’know~? So I’d say it was to the point...and I guess “several” attempts were made, but it was all super subtle stuff, y’know? Wordplay that could go any number of ways, so who knows, at the end of the day?

But we made it! Hooray!

Accidental Hand Hold: When did you first hold hands with your F/O?

Hmm... If I remember right, it was because I almost thoughtlessly walked into the street, freaking Wrench out. He grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go! (It was on one of the “dates” Retr0 set us up on, btw.) I do remember wondering for WEEKS what was going through his head when he did that, though... Aside from “sweaty.”

Wrench later told me “sweaty” was a good summary of his emotions, but also a mix between freaked out and elated beyond belief... So that’s super cute~

After-Action Patch-Up: How does your F/O react when they see you got hurt? How do they tend to your injury?

Predictably, he flies off the fucking handle. Asking how hurt I am, who did it? Does he need to go kick their ass? Does someone have to die??? I have to calm him down before he gets too livid at anyone or anything (yes, thing) and fly away from the handle completely.

After which, he’ll tend to the wound however works best. Grip might be too tight if he’s still worried, but otherwise has a really gentle hand, despite how rough they feel. (It’s really nice, though...)

Almost Kiss: What was your first kiss with your F/O like?

....I think the first time Wrench kissed me, I ascended to nirvana and never quite came back... Cause keep in mind, I didn’t see his face for the LONGEST time. The fact he kissed me at all was the highest honor I could’ve been given...

So anyways, I’m a sap. But what’s new?

Beautiful Dreamer: Who’s usually the first to fall asleep while the other stares and admires?

It all depends on the day, really! Sometimes he goes to bed early and I have some time to admire him... Other times, I go to bed and he stays up a little later, so then he’s the one sparing a few minutes more looking at me while I sleep. Probably half-clinging to a pillow because he wasn’t there for me to snuggle with.

Other times, we’re both in bed and- if we don’t fall asleep at the same time- then it’s one of us trying to get into dreamland to catch up with the other.

Bodyguard Crush: How does your F/O make you feel safe?

Honestly... I guess it’s his superior knowledge of weapons and degree of possessiveness. (That isn’t overwhelming.) I’m definitely a feral little gremlin when it comes to fighting, but that can’t save my ass all the time; being in or thinking we might get into a dangerous situation helps when Wrench knows what he’s doing, no matter what he has on him. (Typically a knife or two, along with a pistol/handgun of some kind.)

For the latter- possessiveness- I’m anxious a lot. There’s no weapon on Earth that’s gonna make me feel safe when I’m getting paranoid or having a panic attack... But you know what does help? Having a husband who’s protective of me. If he sees or overhears me being too trusting of someone who wants to abuse my kindness, he’s on that. He’s the one who reminds me to never return to a forgotten drink or would slap the hand of an offered drink to make sure I’m safe.

If anything happened to me- no matter what my brain comes up with- I’m assured that Wrench would be there in a moment to make sure I’m safe and having fun. If not, then we can go, no pressure.

...I love that about him. It’s nice to not feel pressured by my own anxieties or fears. To feel safe.

Caught In The Rain: How does your F/O react if a sudden rainstorm interrupts your date with them?

He’d probably read my reaction to it. I love rain, but if there were a lot of outdoor activities planned, I might be temporarily bummed about it... Though he’s been with me long enough now to know that I love rain!!

So we’d probably just go outside and play in it until we’re freezing and soaked~

Grow Old With Me: How long have you and your F/O been together?

We’ll have been together 2 years this coming February 15th!

Laugh Of Love: What are some things your F/O does to make you laugh?

All of the ridiculous jokes he makes. He makes so many of them, too!!! Ugh, it’s ridiculous...but I love it. Just as much as he makes dirty jokes or teases me about something or the other; I giggle when I’m flustered, so that fuels him all the more. Wrench is also the classic “class clown” type, so he’ll go to any lengths to get a smile on my face, especially if I’m feeling down...

His recent favorite is to shove his thumbs into my mouth and pull my mouth up. We love our references and though it’s a little creepy (because, y’know....Joker), I still laugh cause at the end of the day, he’s only doing it to be a nerd. I appreciate that. (It’s the same deal as when he says “I know” when I try to tell him I love him; just being a nerd and making references. Besides, if it makes me smile or laugh, why not?)

Love Epiphany: When and how did you realize you loved your F/O? When and how did they realize they loved you?

I think it’s fair to say we realized it pretty early on, just didn’t realize the magnitude of how much we loved each other until far later. Because when Wrench finally asked me out? All those months later? That was the crux of him realizing how much he liked me and how he really wanted to be with me.

...And despite realizing we’re this in love..... I think it’s actually a term that doesn’t quite apply to us, in a way. Because we’re still falling for each other all over again, in different ways. Me initially falling for him was so different compared to when I saw his face for the first time! And when we got married!! It’s been stages of falling in love and I don’t think it’s going to ever stop~

....Cheesy as that all sounds!!!

Marry For Love: Are you and your F/O married? If so, how was the wedding like? If you aren’t, do you plan on getting married, and if so, how would you like it to be like?

Yes, we did~! Almost been married for a year now already, as of December 16th. We had this small, official wedding, then a larger, still-private (friends and my cousin only) deal that was a bit more of an “average” wedding... Complete with playlist as debated and worked on by the both of us!

Post-Kiss Catatonia: How did you and your F/O react to your first kiss together?

Well, I mentioned my side (absolutely starstruck), so for Wrench... Heh, just as elated, if not with more anxiety!! He told me waaaayyy later that- had he more confidence back then- he definitely would have tried to make out with me, but... The prospect was terrifying at the time, so he bailed, of course.

Not that I minded!!! Even just that had us both sitting on cloud nine for a good while...

Sickeningly Sweethearts: Do you and your F/O engage in PDA? If yes, how do the surrounding people react?

Ooooohhhh, you bet we do...not that it’s always tasteful PDA when it’s Wrench, I tell you what.... But ah, what else do I love him for, if not for his best and most perverted of moments? Besides, either way, we make people pretty sick.

There’s passing PDA (giving quick kisses on our way out or as we pass each other by), but if one of us has time on our hands... That’s where we get gross. Cause then it’s a wild card between us being sappy and domestic as hell (petnames and all) OR it’s Wrench getting handsy, eager to get back home... This is usually where food being thrown comes in. On occasion, plastic cutlery.

Either way, nobody’s winning...except us~!♡

You Must Be Cold: How does your F/O keep you warm when it’s cold outside?

Easy. Many blankets, our extra pillows, and maybe a soft, warm sweater if it’s particularly freezing that day/night. We hog the couch in a wrap of warmth, and cocoon like that! Anyone with cold hands or feetsies must warm up quickly or be tossed to the floor in a heap if said cold limbs touch the other!! XP

...Winter’s a fun time. (But this also why I got wool socks the last time I was forced to visit family. Take that, cold weather! I’m onto you!!)

Zip Me Up: Does your F/O help you get dressed for the day? Do you help them?

We usually don’t need to, since we dress pretty casually...but sometimes I help Wrench with his vest. I can do it myself, but if we’re in a rush, then Wrench puts on my spiked choker for me. (Which is fine anyways, since he got that for me. It’s only fitting, right?)

If we get dressy, though... Then it’s basically law. :3c I learned to work with ties for him! And damn, does he look good in a vest and rolled up sleeves...... Mmph~♡

#supernaturalcat98 #Aki answers #self insert #self ship #self insert community #self ship community #otp; purrfect anarchy #HI I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH DID YA'LL KNOW THIS???#surprise bc it's STILL true!! wrow!#dkfghfjdk but seriously Elo you're the MADDEST of lads #only you would look me in the metaphorical eyes and go #'answer all of them with Wrench' like.....nani #you mad lad I'm so proud of u

4 notes · View notes

aleenya · 5 years

Text

first date / / hinanami prompt 01

@hinanami-week

First date prompt! <3 I love these babies from my childhood skghj. This is a bit of a long rambling mess but I hope someone finds enjoyment in it!

There was a reason Chiaki failed at dating sims. Beyond the obvious fact of how she was a girl of very little romantic experience, there was also the dilemma of just how frustratingly confusing people could be. Yes, even the weird 2D ones. Whilst the fast pace of arcade fighting games or the tricky logic riddles of puzzle games had her barely breaking out in a sweat, there was something profoundly next-level about taking someone's future - their happily ever after, so to speak - into her own hands and bringing about the optimal result. It was a responsibility she couldn't be trusted with. Kind of like how she couldn't be responsible for her own breakfast in the morning. Or for a healthy sleeping schedule. Oops. So, it was rather ironic that she'd somehow ended up with a boyfriend, even with her notoriously bad track record at breaking hearts and peeping on girls in the bathroom. (Hey, anime always did it, how was she supposed to know that was an automatic hit to the relationship flag she was trying to trigger?) With how constantly she failed at first dates in video games, the dreaded real-life first date of her own seemed like a loss just waiting to happen. Which was why, the week before it was due to occur, she'd holed herself up in her room with nothing but her trusty DS and PSP, five dating sims of various length and quality, and a copy of Animal Crossing - for when she inevitably needed a break, of course. The plan was this: she'd pour hours, hours, into clocking all five dating sims at nothing less than a 100% completion rate. No guides because that was cheating, and it wasn't like there was some walkthrough for her own date that she could keep checking throughout, though that would be ideal. Even if slightly under-handed. Oh well. She was snuggled up in the thick fluff of her weighted blanket; a bag of crumpled chips and five soda cans perched precariously on a pillow; she was ready for anything the next grueling week might throw at her. With the determination that only a true Ultimate Gamer could possess, Chiaki puffed out her cheeks in defiance of fate and set about her quest. Day one was easy enough. She'd managed to get around six hours into her first play-through with minimal errors. It was only once she'd chosen a girl to "seduce" (these games really were weird) that problems started to arise. Multiple choice questions of the proper conversational avenue to travel down never failed to muddle up her brain. Three choices were hard enough - how was she going to cope on her own date when there would be an endless array to choose from? The very thought sent anxiety swirling into the pit of her stomach. Maybe this was a good time to take that Animal Crossing break. The Animal Crossing break lasted two days. Day four was when Chiaki got serious again - and also when a pesky knock on the door interrupted her intense train of thought. "Come in," she called without taking her eyes off the screen. Yellow light pooled in from the hallway and cut through the stale darkness of her room. If Chiaki had been a vampire like the one she was trying to chat up in her visual novel then maybe she would've hissed and retreated further into her blanket cove. Which she did. Maybe she really was a vampire. That would explain the anemia. "Ugh. It reeks." A familiarly squeaky voice shattered the comfortable silence Chiaki had worked so hard on establishing. Saionji strode in pinching the bridge of her nose with Sonia and Akane at her tail. "Congrats, you've officially become a basement dweller." Chiaki peeked out from her cave of blankets, drawn like a moth to flame by the wafting scent of fresh food. "Oh. Hey guys. Long time no see." "We brought food," Sonia said with a lift of her arm to reveal the picnic basket dangling there. "We figured you might appreciate something of more ... sustenance." Akane then switched on the light, which summoned stars to glitter and dance within Chiaki's vision. All three girls let out audible gasps. "Chips? Seriously?" Akane again. Chiaki had burrowed deeper into her blanket fort in order to grant her throbbing eyes some small amount of reprieve. "Chiaki, you seriously can't have been living on cola and a bag of potato chips for the past four days!" Suddenly, the blanket was whipped out from over her head. Hiyoko plucked the console out of her hands before a very sleep-deprived Chiaki had a chance to react. "My Vampire Girlfriend? Okay, I was joking before, but you really have become a virgin basement dweller." Chiaki pointedly decided to ignore the mischievous young girl and directed her attention onto the basket that Sonia placed in front of her. Opening it up, she was greeted by a bento box ripe with fresh sushi, fluffy rice and spring rolls. "Courtesy of Hanamura," said Akane, "but don't worry, I can guarantee it's not spiked this time." Saionji huffed and dropped the DS. Chiaki was tired, but not tired enough to fail at catching her baby mid-air. "What's that look for?" "Don't act like you don't know!" They were a pleasant, albeit distracting, surprise. And so, for the rest of the day, Chiaki found herself unwillingly placed on a side quest. Sonia, Akane and Hiyoko had taken it upon themselves to clean her room up, with the latter grumbling and complaining but ultimately putting in the most work out of everyone. Sonia ended up at Chiaki's side, badgering her with questions about what game she was playing and, when Chiaki answered, why. "A practice run," said Chiaki simply, barely reacting as an empty cola can bounced off her head. "Sorry," Akane called sheepishly, "that was meant for the rubbish bin." "A practice run ...? Oh!" Sonia's face lit up. "Don't tell me! Do you have a date?" "Maybe. Tomorrow." Saying it out loud, the passage of time sunk into Chiaki with a force she hadn't expected. In a rare show of defeat, she allowed the DS to slip from her hands and topple to the floor. "But it's no use. I haven't learned anything. What am I even supposed to do?" Sonia picked up her DS, glanced at the screen, then dropped it in a striking flash of surprise. "I'm guessing not that," she said. Hiyoko peeked over her shoulder. "Aw man, even pixelated you can tell it's small." "Give me that!" Akane snatched up the console and showed the screen to Chiaki. "Seriously, this is like the worst guide you could have for this. It's not gonna teach you anything because it's not real." "That's not true," Chiaki quietly countered, "just because games aren't real doesn't mean they can't teach stuff." "Maybe, yeah, but not this type of game. You want advice? Then here's the best I can offer. Just be yourself!" "Myself?" Chiaki tilted her head. "But ... what if he doesn't like myself?" "Oh for the love of - he wouldn't be going on a date with you if he didn't, numbnuts!" Hiyoko gently thumped her fist down on Chiaki's unruly mop of hair. "That's true," Sonia said, "besides, who wouldn't like you for who you are? We certainly do!" When the trio had finally left with good luck wishes and pleas that she at least eat half the bento tonight, Chiaki found herself alone in a spotless room with a less-than spotless mind. They'd given her a lot to think about, more than the dating sim had in three days in fact. Just be myself. She didn't sleep that night. Chiaki kept powering through her dating sim, the four others still lying in a dejected heap at her side. Even if she wasn't taking strict lessons from it anymore, the idea of giving up and never completing it felt like a cardinal sin. She'd come this far; what was another twenty hours of gameplay in the grand scheme of things? On the dawn of the fifth day, there was another knock on her door. When they didn't come in upon her calling out that it was alright to, Chiaki was forced to untangle herself from her nest and answer it. Even though it was to be expected, the very image of Hajime standing in her doorway sent a jolt to her heart. "Ah, sorry." He threw up his hands in an apology, perhaps thinking he'd woken her up from a nap. Chiaki wasn't one to lose her cool. This definitely stood true now, but still, she couldn't help flushing slightly. She'd been so engrossed in her game that she'd nearly forgotten all about what she'd spent all week preparing for in the first place. "You don't have to apologize," she murmured, turning her back on him and retreating into the familiar darkness, "come in. You're very welcome." Hajime seemed a tad nervous as he slowly slipped his way inside. "What's wrong? Have you never been in a girl's room before?" It was supposed to be a joke, but it provoked a flustered reaction from Hajime and a stream of fumbled failed sentences. "Kidding." Chiaki flopped back into her blanket nest and patted at the crumpled spot at her side. Glancing side to side, Hajime made his way to where she'd made herself comfortable and collapsed in turn. "I've been worried about you," he began as he pulled at the cuff of his shirt. "You haven't replied to any of my texts. You've been eating, right?" "Sorry." He'd sent texts? Chiaki hadn't looked at her phone since the start of the week. "I've been really busy practicing." "Practicing? For what?" "For today." She showed Hajime her screen. He recoiled. "Oh ... I didn't realize you were into those kinds of games, Chiaki." "I'm not," she replied, shoulders slumping and a sigh floating off her lips, "can you keep a secret, Hajime?" With how serious she said it, Hajime's expression turned grave. "Sure, I guess?" Chiaki threw him the most serious look she could muster, complete with her cheeks puffed out in a pout and eyebrows furrowed tightly into creases. Her hands unconsciously squeezed at the console she still held. "Dating sims are my kryptonite." "Oh ... Dating sims are your - wait, what?" "I'm really bad at them," Chiaki said. She was unable to keep a tinge of sadness from her voice. "Not that I usually mind. But ever since last week, when you said you wanted us to go out somewhere, I thought that I should be prepared. It's no use though. I guess, on the bright side, I did make it to the H scene." She flashed her screen again, to which Hajime, with a sheepish smile, pushed it back down. "How about we don't take advice from porn games, yeah? They're not exactly the real deal." "Huh. Akane said the same thing." "She did?" "She said I should just be myself. But I don't know if myself is all that much fun to be around." "Why wouldn't it be?" Hajime scooted closer. "If I wanted a 2D girl, I'd just play ..." He picked up one of her strewn dating sims at random and pulled a face at the title, "Sexy Magic Witch School - seriously, Chiaki, where do you get these?" "I have my sources." "I'm not sure if I want to know what those are ..." Chiaki had to admit, with how natural their conversation was flowing, she could get used to this. She hadn't even hit her pause button yet. Unable to keep the smile from her face, Chiaki turned back to her DS and asked, "so what would you like to do?" "As in?" "You know. Dating. That kind of stuff. We're supposed to go out, yeah?" "We're not supposed to do anything," Hajime replied. "Really, I'm ... as good at these types of things as you are. But we don't have to go anywhere if you don't want, or do anything that you don't want. That's not what dates are about." "They aren't?" Why did everything have to be so complicated? Her dating sims had explicitly said otherwise, yet Hajime was saying they didn't have to do anything. Before she could formulate a proper response, Hajime changed the topic unexpectedly and asked, "have you slept?" Oh. Sleep. "I've had one or two naps," she mused, thinking back on her five days of intensive training. She'd been so caught up and involved in what she was playing that she'd barely allowed herself the luxury of sleep. She was definitely starting to feel it now. Chiaki rubbed at her sore eyes and swallowed a yawn. Hajime's flustered expression gave way to amusement. He sighed, but Chiaki didn't miss the smile on his lips. "Seriously, what am I going to do with you?" "Hopefully not this." She flashed her DS screen again and Hajime spluttered in embarrassment. "I like you, Hajime, but you haven't triggered that relationship flag yet." "You know that's not what I meant!" She laughed. Hajime climbed to his feet and extended his hand; she took it, stumbling upwards on wobbly knees and feeling the ache in her legs that could only accumulate from five days of non-stop sitting with only the occasional bathroom break. "But is it really okay?" she asked as he guided her to the bed and tossed her blanket back over her body. "I know you were really looking forward to this all week." "Who's to say this isn't our first date now?" said Hajime. "Ah, but, if you'd rather I go ..." She grasped his hand and tugged him down onto the bed. Hajime let out a less than manly squeal and fell down on top of her, which Chiaki recalled was a very common trope in My Vampire Girlfriend that signaled she was on the right romantic route. So she'd done something right after all! This was definitely a romance flag trigger. Chiaki could almost see the achievement popping up on Steam. "Path unlocked," Chiaki said cryptically, with a teasing smile. Hajime scrambled off, face red, and Chiaki twisted around onto her side. "You can sleep next to me, if you'd like," she said. "I can't think of a better way to have a date." Though visibly embarrassed and tense, he did lie down to face her. Chiaki grabbed his hand and intertwined her fingers with his own. "Jeez," he said, "why am I not surprised that napping is your idea of a perfect first date?" "It's not yours?" she quizzed, voice thick with the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. "I'm not opposed," he hummed. "Good." Pause. Save progress. And take a screenshot - just for good measure. At least, that's what Chiaki would have done if this were a dating sim event with a cute CG. But it wasn't. And that was for the best. Chiaki had decided that in this case, nothing could beat the real thing.

#hinanami #chiaki nanami #hajime hinata #hinanami week #hinanamiweek2019 #i love them so much skhgj

18 notes · View notes

magicallygrimmwiccan · 5 years

Text

Don’t Listen To A Word I Say

Summary: Who cared that it looked like Virgil didn’t have a soulmate who wrote to him? He had Logan, and that was enough.

Notes: Happy New Year and late Yule, Daniel! My wonderful QPP, I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting, but I hope you like this, @quoth-the-sparrow!!

Virgil sighed and bashed his head against his desk, sick and tired of all life already, and it was only 9 in the morning. His classmates were all horrible and he wanted to just leave.

“So, your soulmate wrote back yesterday?” one of the popular girls squealed at her friend. Virgil gritted his teeth and tuned them out. He knew what was coming next.

“Yeah! So I’m not the last one in the class! That’s…” and then she trailed off. Virgil didn’t need to look up to know that both girls were staring at him. He didn’t mind, really. He was happy. No one needed to know.

Virgil? Are you alright? Logan’s soft voice rang through his skull. You sound… distressed.

Oh, it’s nothing L, Virgil shot back, Just my usual shitty classmates thinking I’m a freak. Logan made a concerned noise. L, I’m fine, it’s not like I’ve never dealt with this crap before.

The fact that you think that this behaviour from your classmates is normal disturbs me, Logan replied, tone dripping with sarcasm and undercurrents of concern. Virgil grunted, accidentally out loud, and flipped off all his classmates who had turned around to stare at him.

I know, L. Only 1 more year. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Virgil didn’t even wait for a response, simply blocking Logan from his thoughts in order to concentrate on the start of his calculus lesson. He always felt guilty blocking his soulmate like that, but what else could he do?

Everyone thought Virgil didn’t have a soulmate. They couldn’t be more wrong; he did, just not in the conventional sense. See, Logan and Virgil couldn’t see each other’s handwriting on their skin. Logan had no idea why, Virgil had no idea why; all they knew was that this was the way it was. They could, however, hear each other’s thoughts. Virgil didn’t mind how different they were. He liked it. It felt… right, for him and Logan.

Who cared if Virgil was mercilessly outcasted because everyone thought he had no soulmate? What if Logan obviously lied about having friends? What if both boys cried to each other every other night over how cruel the world was? Who cared? They had each other.

“Storm, Virgil?” his new professor called, looking up from his clipboard. Virgil internally snorted. His new professor for his first class of college was so old-school; it was adorable.

“Here, Professor,” Virgil drawled, firing off a two-fingered salute. The professor glanced around for a few minutes, his brown eyes lighting up when they finally land on Virgil.

“Ah! Mr. Storm! Thank you!” The Professor scribbled down a couple notes and continued on with roll, and Virgil relaxed against the table in front of him. He hated attention on him.

Virgil? Are you quite alright? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, Logan called. Virgil rested his chin in his arms and sent back, Just first-day roll call. Nothing too bad.

Ah. I am glad. Logan’s voice was tinged with relief, and Virgil cracked a smile. Logan always had that effect on him. Patton always teased him about how he was obviously in love but didn’t have a soulmate, but Virgil had to agree with him on half of that statement. He was certainly in love.

The professor finished roll and spun around to face the whiteboard, already jotting down the word PSYCHOLOGY in big, bold, neat letters. Virgil sighed, pulled out his notebook, and began to write, determined to not let his bad study habits come back to bite him this year.

“Now, we’ll be studying the work of all of these famous psychologists,” the professor announced, jotting names down on the board. Virgil saw the name of a certain German psychologist and mentally groaned.

Ugh, Freud. The man can fight me, Logan thought. Virgil frowned. Wait a minute…

Logan? Are you currently in a psychology class? Virgil asked. A pause, and then Logan cautiously replied, Yes. What of it?

Because I too am in a psychology class writing down notes about the bastard known as Sigmund Freud. Is the professor wearing a cream sweater and a pink tie? … Yes. … Oh my stars, we’re in the same class.

Virgil started looking around frantically. His soulmate was in this very room. He was about to meet his soulmate.

He noticed another boy looking around, blue eyes flashing behind his thick-rimmed black glasses. Their eyes locked, and Virgil felt his heart speed up to ludicrous speeds in his chest. This, he knew, was Logan. This was his soulmate.

Virgil? Are you, perhaps, wearing a black hoodie with purple flannel patches and wearing eyeliner like a raccoon? Logan asked, tentatively.

Yeah, and are you wearing a black shirt, a blue sweater vest, a blue tie, and glasses, like a nerd? Virgil asked back.

Yes I am, Logan answered slowly, a smile splitting across Nerd Boy’s face as he answered. Virgil giggled slightly in return, a big smile so unlike him lighting up his face. There was Logan, in the flesh, just as nerdy and perfect as he’d always imagined him to be.

“Mr. Storm? Mr. Sinclair? Are you quite alright?” Virgil snapped back to reality at his professor’s call, breaking eye contact with Logan.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Virgil drawled, his smile still refusing to leave his face. After class, he determined. After class, he could talk to Logan face-to-face for the first time. After class, he could finally kiss his soulmate.

For now, though, he had to pay attention to his professor drone on and on about the different milestones of psychology and the important people who had brought those about. It would be worth it, though. Logan would always be worth it.

Notes: Hope you liked it~ Happy New Year, everyone!!

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #soulmate au #fluff

48 notes · View notes

gaiyofanfiction · 6 years

Text

Misfortune Chapter 1

Prologue - Prologue Pt. 2 - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Idol!Jaebum x Solo Idol!Reader

Drama/Slight comedy

A/N: YAY FIRST CHAPTER! We’re so sorry it took so long, but were finally posting! We hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. The name of the idol (reader) as well as the fandom name are fake and made up by us. The real life idol’s personalities portrayed in this fic are also made up by us. To our knowledge, the idols in real life are total sweethearts. We do NOT condone fandom wars or trashing idols in the SLIGHTEST. We are hoping this story will bring awareness to how stupid and toxic fandom wars can be.

Trigger Warning: Anxiety attacks, flashbacks and depression for the most part. Toxic fandom wars and bullying (Which we’ll explain further into the story). May be something later.

~~~

“Alright! Did everyone enjoy VAV's performance?!”

The crowd goes wild in response to Mark Tuan’s question. Jackson cheers next to him before speaking into his microphone.

“They did an amazing job, as always! Up next we have JYP’s own Rookie Group, Stray Kids!”

“Let's KCON!”

You hear the crowd grow louder for Stray Kids who you watch walk out on stage. You hear the beginning of Jisung and Changbin’s rap.

Your breathing grows heavy, knowing you're up soon. You practice your vocal exercises backstage, thinking about your lyrics and dance moves.

“I still can't believe you're actually here, in the same place as Got7. Who thought that was a good idea?”

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the snooty sounding voice from behind. ‘Lyrics and dance, Y/N. That's what you need to be focusing on’

“I mean, she did try to ruin JJProject's image all those years ago. That little liar was probably brought here as a publicity stunt, not actually because she has any talent.”

“Lord, help me,” you breathe out quietly before turning to face the nasty commentators, who just happen to be Nayun and Daisy of Momoland.

“Anything else you have to say to me, you better spit it out now. I have better things to be doing.” You cross your arms.

Daisy raises a brow. “Oh there's a lot I could say.”

“Do you two have anything better to do than bring up seven-year-old bullshit?”

You hear a voice coming from behind you, making you sigh with relief. Jimin walks up next to you, leaning an arm into your shoulder.

Nayun glares at the 15& member. “You're part of JYP and you're still on her side?”

Jimin grinds her teeth, trying to keep her temper. “Well, unlike some people, I listen to all the facts before jumping to conclusions. She also happens to be my best friend and I believe her.” She smiles sarcastically.

Before one of them can say anything else, you see Mark and Jackson walk up, joining your little powwow.

“Don't you two have a fan meet in an hour to get ready for?” Mark tilts his head, unimpressed with the current issue at hand.

Knowing they're outnumbered, Daisy and Nayun scoff and walk away. You sigh with relief and lay your head onto Jimin's arm.

“Thanks guys. I just don't have the energy to argue about this subject right now.”

Jimin pats your head with a frown. “No one messes with my wifey!”

Jackson slaps your back harder than he meant to, earning an ‘ow’ from you. “We got you, Y/N. Don't worry.”

“I still don't understand why at times, since your leader and I have the biggest rivalry in kpop history.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “We’re grown ass men who can decide for themselves who to befriend. You never did anything to us, why should we hate you?”

You smile at your old company friends, happy to still have them in your life. You hear the crowd cheering, signaling the end of the performance.

“Oh shit, Jackson, we gotta go. Cya Y/N! Can't wait to see you perform!”

Mark waves to you, pulling a complaining Jackson along with him. You hear a faint ‘Ugh, why did we agree to MC, again?’ coming from the Chinese boy, making you chuckle.

You notice Stray Kids exiting from on stage. You wave to your old friend, Bang Chan.

“Chris! You guys did amazing as always!” you yell with a smile.

The boy stiffens at the sound of your voice, turning his head slightly to make eye contact. He gives you a half hearted, closed mouth smile before quickly turning his attention elsewhere. Minho and Changbin shoot you a glare before ushering the rest of the group the opposite direction.

Your hand drops to your side as you groan. “Oh yeah, I forgot he hates my guts.”

Jimin hooks her arm with yours, pulling you in close. “Well, honey, you did kinda leave the company with no word. He probably felt slightly betrayed.”

You mumble at the response. You remember that day seven years ago.

You and Chan were pretty close during your last year as a trainee. He had come to the company in 2010 and you had taken him under your wing, being a trainee for three years prior. You both became pretty close friends, along with BamBam, Jimin, Mark, Jackson and JB.

After the incident at the showcase, you had left the company the next day with no word, no warning. The only people you stayed in contact with was Jimin, Mark, Jackson and BamBam. You didn't say anything to Chan, fearing he would hate you after what you had accused JB of. He must have felt betrayed by one of his best friends, because he hasn't talked to you since then. Every time he sees you, he avoids you like the plague.

“I was afraid of him not believing me about what happened. He looked up to JB and Jinyoung as mentors, I didn't want him to hate me.” You sigh, watching Stray Kids hurry themselves out from backstage. “Guess he ended up hating me anyway. And now the rest of them do too.”

Jimin pulls you in for a hug, trying her best to comfort you. She squeezes you tight. “It'll all work out in the end, sweetie. I promise.”

She pulls away as she receives a text message. “Looks like I'm going on stage soon. I got to go get ready. Just remember to hang in there.” She raises a fist in the air. “I'll be cheering you on while you're out there. KIT and Kittens, fighting!”

You give your best friend a smile, happy that she's here with you. She blows you a kiss as she walks back to her manager who's waiting for her.

“Y/N noona!”

You turn to see BamBam running towards you with a smile. Despite being fairly hated throughout the industry, you’re surprised so many people were happy to see you.

“Hey Bammie!” you open your arms to receive a big hug.

“Ah, I'm so glad you're here. We haven't seen each other in awhile.” He squeezes you so tightly, you could hardly breath.

“BamBam-ah, if you squeeze her too tightly, she might pop.”

Your entire body freezes as soon as you hear his voice.

You slowly turn around to see the reason for your last seven years of misery, the handsome face of your nightmares.

JB smirks at you, giving you the once over. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in. If it isn't the infamous Y/N. Or should I call you KIT?”

You set a hard glare on your face. “Or you could not talk to me at all, that would be good too.” You raise a brow. “If that was your attempt at an insult, it was pretty shitty. Try again.”

BamBam gave JB an awkward look, “yeah, even I didn’t find that good.”

You scrunch your nose at BamBam’s comment. “Um, thanks?”

JB chuckles coolly. “Damn, you're as cold as ever, aren't you. I remember the days where you were such a sweetie.”

You take a step towards him, poking a finger into his chest. “Yeah, all because of you, ya ass. If you didn't do what you did seven years ago, maybe I'd still be a nice person.”

JB glares at the finger in his chest. He takes a step forward pushing you a step backwards. “Don't go around lying like that, Y/N. It's not good for your image.” His glare turns back into a condescending smirk. “Well, what's left of it anyway.”

The two of you are almost nose to nose. As beautiful of a face that he has, the love you once felt for him is long gone. Everyone around you could feel the resentment and hatred seeping from the two of you.

BamBam laughs awkwardly before pulling you away from the smirking boy. “Alright, let's not do this here. Y/N, you should probably go and get ready. You're up soon.”

You let BamBam pull you back, but your icy glare stays glued to JB. Quickly you look at the lineup posted on the wall. You relax a little bit and nudge BamBam to let you go.

“It looks like I’m performing before you. It’s just ‘cause I’m better.” You chuckle as you lean against a pillar like you’ve won this argument.

JB slaps his knees and bursts out laughing. “Oh ho-ho-ho. You are sadly mistaken. Sweetie, you are the opening act. Got7 is the main act of Kcon this year. Did you oversleep again and miss the announcement?”

Everyone around you giggled quietly. BamBam put a hand on your shoulder, but you immediately pull away from his attempt at reassurance. Completely embarrassed you didn’t know what to do. It was like a scene from your nightmares. Everything staring at you, laughing. ‘Not again, god not like this.’

You became overwhelmed with emotions; so much anger and resentment. You bare your teeth and growl at him like a wildcat that’s ready to pounce, both fists clenched. You realize though that this isn’t you. You wouldn’t hurt him even though he’s done so much to you. This realization makes you feel completely vulnerable.

“What? You going to punch me little KIT?” JB mocks you with a condescending tone of voice.

‘Why does it have to be me? What have I done to you?’ You bite your lip trying to hold back the angry tears.

Suddenly you hear your name on the loudspeaker, making you snap your attention away from the situation at hand. Your anxiety spiking, you grab your headset and make your way to the edge of the stage.

“Don’t choke!” JB winks and leave, laughing on his way out.

You do your best to ignore him, knowing if you dwell on it, you really will choke. You take a deep breath and focus yourself. You hear Mark and Jackson from out in the audience.

“Up next, we have miss KIT herself! Please give her a warm LA welcome! Let’s KCON!”

‘Alright, Y/N. It’s your time to shine.’

~~~

[Masterlist]

100 notes · View notes