#I’m disgusted because the guy i dropped LITERALLY would get ‘excited’ when he hung out with me and my ffiend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makncheese12 · 1 year

Text

Top Shelf pt. 5

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7

Masterlist

Summary: being the kid of a well-known book store owner was easy, so was running into famous people. But being book smart doesn’t make everyone people smart.

A/N: the location set for where they eat isn’t a place in New York I think but it is where I’m from so I’m using it🥲

You guys would be astonished if you knew who the characters I created represented

I had a hard time writing for the character I put in here because I’m still not sure how to write people like her🥲

Warning: my writing, language,

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

“I changed my mind,” Lyle says suddenly as you dry your hair off glancing toward him. Hair dye setting in hair that is now dyed half pink and half black as he smiles down at his phone.

The boy had an unhealthy obsession with dying his hair lately and you had to be the one to dye it.

“About what?” You ask tightening the towel around your body as you walk out of the bathroom and toward you closet. “This is my favorite.”

He holds up a picture of you and Jenna walking down the street from the last few days making you roll your eyes.

The two of you had hung out a quite a few times after the first time and you were starting to get used to the both her and the paparazzi’s presence in your life.

You were actually enjoying it. The scandal online of people thinking the two of you are dating with how much you two are together, not to mention the Instagram follow.

The photos that were taken of you both were decent.

It’s funny really. The pictures, the edits, being stopped suddenly in the street so Jenna could take a picture with a fan or sign something. You were enjoying seeing her interact with them and how different she acted with you.

The only downsides were the amount of threats and questions you were getting on Instagram. It got to the point where you had to turn off you messages.

Another being that when they took pictures of you it was always you looking at Jenna some type of way and it irked your nerves at how obvious your love struck state was.

“You just said that about the last one you saw.” You reply as you pull an outfit off the hangers.

“Yeah but this one is the one.” He says, rolling onto his back on your bed. “You two look so cute in it, plus your making lovey dovey eyes at her, as usual.”

You huff out before letting the towel drop and start to get dressed. “What’s you guys relationship, anyway?” He asks without looking up knowing you were changing.

What was it really? Truth be told, you didn’t know yourself.

“We’re friends, what else?” You say pulling your shirt over your head. He lets out a loud groan, plopping his phone down before rolling around on your bed.

“You cannot be serious right now.” He says now laying on his stomach and looking up at you.

You let out a huff pulling your pants up. You were just friends, friends who text and go out a lot. He was just jealous your time was being taken away from him surely.

You’d have to admit, spending time with Jenna was way better than spending time with Lyle. Not that you didn’t enjoy Lyle’s company it was just that Jenna gave you other feelings than Lyle ever could.

While Lyle made you feel disgust, happiness and frustration Jenna made you feel nervous, excitement and attraction.

The feelings were definitely different.

“You cannot be serious right now.” You repeat his words in a high pitch mocking tone before tossing your towel in the basket and making your way toward your desk.

“At what point will you take me seriously?” He asks as Achilles jumps on his back before settling into his new found seat.

“At what point will you be serious?” You ask. “Right now.” He replies, tossing his phone on the bed and looking toward you.

“You two are literally so cute together but very oblivious.” He says making you press your lips together and roll your eyes.

“I’m so serious, like,” he says sitting up and Achilles falls off before being picked up and put into his lap.

“I’ve seen the videos and pictures, one looking away while the others stares or the way you smile at each other.” He rambles as you let out a sigh.

It was true that you couldn’t deny your feelings for Jenna, Lyle knew that. The way she makes your heart beat faster at her unrelenting stare, the way her laugh makes you want to smile.

But you couldn’t assume her feelings for you, of course she wouldn’t have any other than friend ship.

“Just because you see something doesn’t make it real.” You reply, interrupting his list making him roll his eyes.

“I know what I see and I can see the attraction coming from both of you and onto the other.” He says menacingly stroking Achilles who purrs out closing his eyes.

“I never said I wasn’t attracted to her,” you argue shaking your head and he raises an eyebrow. “I just think she doesn’t feel the same thing.”

The man lets out a hum of slight disapproval. “Obliviousness is truly a torture.” He says clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

“You have to show your attraction, not that you already have with those looks but you also have to say and show it.” He finishes and you knit your eye brows together.

Did he straight up want you to confess without knowing if she returned the feeling?

“How exactly?” You raise an eyebrow at him and lean back into your desk chair.

“Allow me to demonstrate.” Oh god.

The man stands and grabs your arms to pull you onto the bed to sit next to him. He sits closer to you and makes sure to get into your personal space. “This is weird.” You mumble scooting away from him slightly.

He only responds by scooting closer to you and looking into your eyes. You look around for a moment, unsure of what he was doing.

He continues to stare and you continue to look away, avoiding his eyes. “There,”

“What?” You ask, now confused with the man who was supposedly trying to help you.

“You have this issue of not being able to hold eye contact, it’s a form of attraction through body language.” He says, smirking down at you as you roll your eyes.

“It makes you seem sexy and mysterious.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you before leaning in with a kissy face and you stop immediately with your palm. “You’re not sexy nor mysterious at all.”

“Yeah, but I try.” He shrugs leaning back slightly. “But it really should work if someone finds any attraction toward you.”

“Okay, cupid,” you snort before scooting away from him once again. “Only problem is is that I’m not attracted to you.” You finish as the boy scoots closer to you.

He once again ignores you as he yanks your legs to face him. “Pay attention, demonstration number two.”

He puts his legs in the same position as yours, along with his posture.

“What is this?” You ask, once again confused as the man copies your movements. “It’s a big sign mostly, copying the movement of the person you like or mirroring the position. you used to do it a lot in high school when you dated that senior chick.” He replies and you send him a glare.

“I did not date her.” You reply, crossing your legs. “Yeah,” he says copying your movements. “But you had sex with her it’s the same thing.”

“You and I have very different perspectives on dating— stop that!” You raise your voice slightly as the man uncrosses his legs along with yours.

“Demonstration number three!” He claps before leaning his shoulder toward yours, body very close to yours as you try to lean away from him.

“Let me guess,” you huff out pushing his shoulders away from your own.

The man never had any form of personal space, even in your early years or when you first met. He was always in someone’s bubble.

“They lean toward you while your talking to them, focusing only on you.” You say as the man leans closer with a cheeky smile.

“Ding ding ding.” The mimicked sound of a bell makes you roll your eyes. “And tonight I will be on the look out for those signs.” He says smiling to himself in thought.

“Speaking of,” you say standing up and grabbing a towel from a pile. “Let’s get your hair done so we can get ready to go.”

“Insta story!” He grabs his phone before rushing past you and into the bathroom. You shake your head and let out a quiet chuckle at his obsession with pictures.

You all had that obsession though. Posting pictures and moments you like to have for later and to look at when you got older or grew apart. Not that he’d ever allow that to happened.

But it got to the point where you were scared of the pictures he had, you knew he had bad ones but you didn’t know how many. The scary part was that he had the power to post it whenever he wanted.

He should be afraid of the ones you had too.

“Hurry, I need to get a good angle before you wash it all out.” He rushes as he holds in the camera to the mirror as you grab gloves and begin putting them on ignoring the clicking sounds.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only post the good ones of you so your boo doesn’t see your bad angle.” He says while scrolling through the pictures making you roll your eyes.

“She’s not my boo.” You mumble and he snorts. “Whatever you say.”

————

“Remember,” the man walking next to you says after pulling your head phones off. “Look for my three attraction signs.”

You huff out and nod while scooting closer toward him as more people entered the train.

“And if she doesn’t show any signs?” You ask, chest against his as someone bumps into you. You both send a subtle glare before looking back toward each other.

“Then you show them,” he smirks down at you, hair tied up in a half up half down style but still having some strands cover his face. “I’m sure she’s not as dense as you are.”

You now send him the glare as you glance down at your phone before smiling at the sight of Jenna’s double text before texting back.

Jenna -

We’re on the way now:)

My friend can’t wait to meet you!

You -

Lyle is just as enthusiastic about meeting you

We’re on the train about be there

Jenna -

Cant wait to meet him

“‘Love struck’ is definitely the word to describe you.” Lyle states and your smile falls looking up at him.

“Don’t hide it now, I’ve already seen you smiling at your phone like she’s there for real.” He rolls his eyes before checking his own phone.

“Whose her friend anyway?” He asks and you shrug. “She won’t say, says it’s a surprise.”

“Great, yet another sexy and mysterious individual in our lives.” He shakes his head and you hit his chest with the back of your hand.

The train comes to a slow stop before the doors open allowing you both to make your way out and toward the exit.

It’s a struggle though as you move past the many people in the train station trying to find a way out without pushing.

“Jeez, the tourist this time of year are always so annoying.” The man mumbles, grabbing your hand. He was right, people wanting to spend Christmas in New York was a hassle but it was worse after Christmas was over.

“Watch it!” A man calls pushing past your shoulder. “Sorry..” You mumble getting closer to Lyle as the man glares down at you before moving through the crowd once more.

“Asshole.” Lyle mumbles, wrapping his arm through yours to keep you close as you both finally make it out of the crowded staircase.

“Come on, before we’re late meeting your boo and her friend.” The man pulls you through the street as you groan.

“She’s not my boo! Stop saying that it’s so weird.” You say as he drags you through the crowd. “But you want her to be.” He calls out in a sing song voice that makes you gag.

He slows down after a moment, deep in thought as you stare up at him.

Another moment goes by before he lets out a hum.

“You never really confirmed it,” he says glancing down toward you. “If you actually want her or not. Yeah, you said you were attracted to her but not if you actually liked her.”

The statement causes your entire face to heat up as you look away from the boy.

You never really thought about it, mostly thinking about how stunning she looked or when she would text and ask to hang out next. Never once did you think about if you could actually be in a real relationship with her.

“In a sense..” you mumble scratching the back of your head. He raises his eyebrow at you and waits patiently for you to finish.

You both take notice to people glancing in your direction, whispers suddenly surround you. Something you were still getting used to.

“I mean, I do like her.” You start your ramble and the boy smiles. “She’s amazing, perfect even. Her personality is even better than it is on TV, she’s funny, way more considerate of where I want to go with her, she talks just enough to where I can also talk, she’s absolutely gorgeous,” you continue your list and Lyle nods, smile growing as you speak.

He had never seen you so passionate about something other than the music you listen too or something you’ve hyper fixated on. So listening to you speak of something — or rather someone — else was definitely a sight for him to see.

He knew the brunette had you wrapped around her finger just by your long list, even if you didn’t know it yourself.

“And did I mention she has a great sense of style?” You suddenly come to a stop of your rambling. “I’ve seen it plenty to know.” He laughs and you groan out.

“Okay, so why don’t you make a move exactly?“ he asks and your smile falls.

“Why would she say yes to me?” You ask lowly as the boys smile falls to.

She had many other options with people who could treat her to a life of luxury or even just treat her better. So why would she pick the weird library kid who stays inside playing video games all day?

“You’re all those things too, minus to the style of course.” Lyle tries to comfort you only for you to elbow him in his gut.

“I’m being serious,” he laughs grabbing your arm and pushing it away lightly. “You’re just as amazing as anyone else. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He finishes with a small smile.

You nod slowly before looking back forward and grabbing for his hand.

“Don’t be gross now.” You mumble and the boy chuckles to himself.

You both continue to walk through down the street before arriving at the location sent to you by Jenna making Lyle let out a loud gasp.

“Sushi?” He asks, arms spread out as he gestures to the red sign ‘Kenko’s habachi’ as if he was trying to hug it. “How’d she know?! What’d you tell her?” He questions are more of demands as he turns to you.

“Nothing, as I said.” You say, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “She has taste.”

A grimace is set on his face at your comment. “Please don’t tell me your referring to yourself.” Your face falls and you point to it, clearly annoyed at his comment after your last conversation.

“Kidding,” he says turning back toward the building like a child in a toy factory. “So how does this work? Do we go inside and wait?”

“We just wait, I usually do.” You say, taking a seat on a nearby bench as the man continues to stare up.

“What a good dog.” He replies only giving you a glance. “But what about seats?” He asks mc ignoring your loud huff.

“Usually taken care of.” You say before slipping your head phones back on and turning up the sound to drown out what ever he says.

You close your eyes and begin to think of the various ways this night could go. Lyle embarrassing you to death, the so called signs he wants you to use and look for, Jenna’s friend, how Jenna looks. Anything to pass the time before you come to a realization.

How long was she staying in New York?

She had been here for about a month and half now, at least since you’ve known her. She was bound to leave for LA again to be with her family and home again.

The thought made you feel some sort of dread. The relationship you both built could go crumbling down once she left and you couldn’t do anything about while all the way across the United States.

Then again what could you do? Ask her not to return to her home and stay with you? Not possible. You weren’t in any position to ask such a question but that wouldn’t stop you from begging if you had a choice to.

Who wouldn’t want to be on the knees in front of such a woman after all?

You’re pulled from your thoughts as your head phones are yanked off. Your eyes snap open to see Lyle glaring down toward, Jenna trying to hold in her laugh and a girl who’d you recognized after watching Jenna’s most recent show.

You didn’t know her name but you knew not to call her by the name you knew her by, that would end horrible on your end by Lyle.

“Hey,” Jenna says as you stand up and snatch your head phones back from Lyle. “Hey.” You reply and Lyle makes a face.

“‘Hey’? That’s it?” He whispers to himself as if he were expecting more and you send him a glare.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” Jenna says gesturing to your head phones as you put them back in their case.

“Are you suggesting that I have a head phone problem?” You ask, smirk in your face as you shove the container into your pocket.

She considers the question for a moment before nodding. “Maybe a little?” She says and your face falls as it does whenever Lyle tries to say something funny.

“I’m only saying you have them in all the time right before I see you.” She defends putting her hands up.

“What else am I meant to do? Just sit there or walk? No, I gotta have some sort of background noise that’s not yelling or cars honking.” You huff out and shake your head.

Jenna’s smile grows as she looks up at you.

You glance to Lyle who puts up a single finger mouthing ‘number one’ making you internally roll your eyes.

Your eyes travel back to Jenna who continues to smile and stare and you can’t help but agree with. The eye contact was insanely attractive when it came to her as you try your hardest not to look away from hers.

You both continue to stare unbeknownst to the pair beside you. It was starting to become unbearable for the two, is this all what you two did?

Sure, it was only a few moments that and passed but it was still awkward.

Lyles eyes travel to the girl Jenna brought as he presses his lips with a suggestive look on his face that makes the girl smile and nod in agreement to his silent statement.

“Well then!” Lyle calls out clapping his hands together. “Re-introductory time,” he smiles and holds out his hand to Jenna.

“Great to meet you again on less awkward time, I’m Lyle.” He says as she takes his hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you, i’ve heard a lot about you.” She says and Lyle smirks.

“As have I about you.” Your cheeks rise in heat as you clear your throat and look away from the two.

“Oh! And this is Emma.” Jenna introduces and the girl steps forward with a adorable smile you can’t help but notice.

“Hi, I’ve also heard a lot about you.” She laughs as she shakes your hand. Jenna’s cheeks also get warm as she she sends a small kick to her friends foot you don’t seem to notice.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma.” You say before Lyle begins rushing the three of you.

“Sushi time, let’s go. Let’s go!” The man states as you all make your way inside.

“I’m beginning to see what you meant by him being a bit much.” Jenna says watching Lyle make his way toward the fish tank like a child.

You huff out before going after him. “Dude,” you mumble as you watch him watch the fish. “You’ll get to eat some in a bit, stop slobbering on the glass.”

“You two really are bad at reading signs.” He replies, head turning side ways but eyes never leaving the tank. “You’re trying too hard to act natural, just relax.”

You scoff before pulling him back toward the duo only to see Emma whispering something to Jenna whose face had only become more red.

The waitress grabs four menus and makes her way toward the back of the restaurant.

“I love your hair, by the way.” Emma says, falling back to walk with Lyle who gives her a toothy smile. “Why thank you, I just got it done.” He says as if he had paid to get it done, you should have made him pay.

You watch as the waitress places the menus down in a booth before making your way to one side and taking a seat. Jenna not too far behind you as she subconsciously decides to sit with you.

Lyle looks back at Emma with the same suggestive look on his face as he allows her to enter first before following after.

He takes notice to how close you both sit and allows a small smirk to set into his face before opening his menu and slamming it shut immediately.

You send him a questioning look as you opening your own. You places his hand on the table and drums two fingers on the table, looking around trying to be discreet.

You let out a quiet huff before looking back down to your menu, unable to resist the urge to look through your peripheral view to see he was in fact right.

Jenna seemed to be doing what Lyle was doing earlier. Your legs were slightly tilted toward hers and so were hers, hands holding the menu as you did.

But then again she was very focused on said menu, not enough to be able to copy anything you were doing. You were glad he was sort of wrong but also disappointed.

“You’d definitely like the shrimp tempura, it’s actually cooked but also really good for sushi.” Lyle states as he points to Emma’s menu, elbows on the table as he leans over to look over her menu. You watch Emma’s eyebrows raise as he continues to recommend different things, clearly listening carefully as she nods along.

A small smile forms on your face, his lack of personal space was indeed always there. Even for strangers. But then again that was his specialty, finding friends by just simply being himself rather than acting awkward.

But then there was his humor that threw most people off, very dark. You were used to it though, him mentioning things that would put him in an insane asylum before laughing to himself making the people who get it laugh as well.

“What are you getting?” Jenna’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts as your eyes snap from Lyle and Emma to Jenna who seemed to be sitting much closer than before.

You lean over to look at her menu forgetting about your own in your hand as you point to the thing you get the most.

She scrunches her nose — the action absolutely adorable — slightly as she read the description, clearly displeased with you answer. “Really?”

You shrug before closing your own menu and sliding it forward. “It’s what I’ve eaten for the past few times, i think it’s good.” You lean against your hand on the table, body turned to her more.

She nods to herself for a moment before looking back down to her menu, once again you find yourself jealous of a menu.

Lyle takes notice to your longing stares and Jenna obliviousness take scowls in distaste at the sight.

With how much you talked about her he would think you would be flirting at this point with how much you’ve hung out. But no, you clearly are too much of an idiot not to see both you and Jenna’s body language toward each other.

“But what is the best platter?” Emma asks suddenly and your attention is suddenly drawn toward her as you lean over the table to talk.

He gapes at you for a moment, wondering why you would take your attention off your ‘date’ to recommended things to his before he got the chance.

You had a goddess next to you and you decided to talk about platters? He decides then and there it was time to take matters into his own hands.

His eyes travel to Jenna who no longer looks at her menu, instead toward you and Emma with a look in her eyes Lyle knows inside and out.

He stares at her and waits for a moment, clearly intent on getting her to look back at him and she does.

He narrows his eyes her before tilting his head which makes her in return knit her eye brows. He glances toward you then back to her before raising an eyebrow.

Jenna too glances at you before biting her lip nervously before looking back to him. He widens eyes while keeping his eyebrow raised and tilting his head to the side to gesture toward you.

Jenna hesitates for a moment, looking between Lyle and you before nodding along with Lyle who lets out a silent breath.

At least someone took his hints.

She sends him one last glance as you sit back into your seat, all four of you now waiting on the waitress, Lyle and Emma taking up a new conversation topic.

“I meant to tell you before,” Jenna says suddenly catching both you and Lyles attention. “Your outfit looks really nice.” The compliment is subtle yet noticeable.

You look down to look at your outfit you had actually tried on. Ever since you met Jenna you had actually been trying on looking good instead of wearing simple jeans and a sweat shirt. Not that you’d ever tell her that.

“Thank you, my mom actually bought this for me.” You say and Lyle froze before his eyes travel to you in horror.

Who responds to a compliment like that?

“Well, she knows what colors look good on you.” Retorts, saving her own compliment. It works as your face heats up and you smile before chuckling nervously as the waitress walks up you table.

Lyle felt his eye twitch as you order, the sudden urge to strangely you was set into his mind as his finger start to flex.

The audacity of you not complimenting her back was an atrocity.

His eyes travel to Jenna who seemed well satisfied with her compliment and your reaction, far more confident than before. It did not satisfy Lyle.

As the waiter walks away, Lyle felt the need to punish you for your crimes. He quickly kicks his foot out attempting to kick you but instantly regrets it.

“Ow!” Jenna calls out and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?” You ask as soon as the word leaves Jenna’s lips.

“Did you just kick me?” Jenna asks, looking up to Lyle whose face sets into panic before looking to you. The worried look on your features evident as you place a hand on Jenna’s arm. He decides this was a far better punishment.

“Yeah,” he nods and looks to you. “Did you just kick her?” The attitude in his accusation bewilders you as your mouth hangs open.

“What?” You ask, glaring at the boy who glares back. “Why would you kick her?” He asks, gesturing his hands toward you and you let out a laugh.

“That’s funny,” you say shaking your head at the boy who crosses his arms. “I’m sitting right next to her how would that be possibly?” You ask and the man shrugs in exaggeration.

“I don’t know, you tell me!” He says and you huff out. Jenna, the pain now forgotten, finds the petty argument amusing as Emma just sits there sipping her drink enjoying the drama completely oblivious to what’s going on.

————

Lyle watches as the two of you speak while walking ahead, well more so Jenna talks and you stare shamelessly. You two walk closely, closer than the distance He and Emma walked together or just regular friends. Further proving his third demonstration to be correct.

His eyes travel to the paparazzi who also shamelessly stared and took pictures then back to you.

You two were to busy in your own little world to really notice. Now he sees why there were so many pictures, you two were just out there rather than hiding away in the safety of privacy.

The privacy you used to enjoy before Jenna, the privacy you needed for your family but just didn’t care anymore.

“Those two are so annoying,” he mumbles, catching Emma’s attention. “I mean, they’re clearly interesting in each other but Y/N doesn’t want to admit it!”

Emma’s eyes light up at his statement. “Exactly, thank you!” Emma says and the man’s eyes snap to hers. “All she talks about is Y/N.” Emma comes back to a sudden quietness the two had and his interest is now piqued.

“Go on,” he says, nudging her with his elbow and raising his eyebrows.

“I mean, she doesn’t only talk about Y/N but whenever she gets tracked up in her phone it always ‘Y/N texted’ or ‘I’m texting Y/N, hold on’. It’s ridiculous but what’s really annoying is when we try to get her to ask her out and she says that that’s a stupid thing to do and doesn’t think she likes her back or something.”

Lyle’s head snaps to her, eyes wide. “She thinks that?” He asks making them slow down so you two didn’t hear their conversation.

Emma hesitates for a moment, clearly debating if Jenna would like this or not but ultimately decides to nod.

“But why?” He asks and the girl tilts her head slightly in question. “I can understand Y/N because of many different reasons but Jenna? She can have castle full of people to choose from and they’d all want her.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Emma says. “Because of how many people she could possibly have, she doesn’t think that any want her for her.”

Lyle takes a moment to think that through and she was in fact right.

She met you by chance and you didn’t know who she was which most likely made the situation feel real. She could tell you about herself without you knowing information from online — true or not true— and you could tell her about yourself without lying to make her more interested in you.

It was all authentic and she could play it out her own way, especially with you already barely knowing her.

“You’re right,” he mumbles in response as he watches Jenna laugh and you smile at her. The smile was one he didn’t recognize, it was far warmer and soft than what he was used to.

Yes, she truly did have you wrapped around her finger.

“We should totally help each other out,” he says suddenly making the girls smile raise. “I could give you little pointers of what Y/N says and you give me one’s Jenna says, you know to keep things up to date for them.”

Emma’s eyes travel to the two of you as you both talk, still ignoring the paparazzi who try to get the best shots in strange positions.

“Plus, I do like to give Y/N little heart attacks so having information on Jenna would help with that.”

The girls smiles once again, clearly interesting on doing the same to Jenna as she pulls her phone out.

————

Lyle once again watches as you hug Jenna before she waves and gets into her car in absolute disgust and disappointment at how short a time you held her. You could have let it linger for a moment, he wouldn’t have minded waiting another moment.

She gets into the tented window car, Emma following suit as she taps her phone to Lyle who nods and throws her a thumbs up.

Her smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by Lyle as you shut the door behind and watch the cat drive off.

Once it’s completely out of view, he hits the back of your head with the back of his hand. And he does so very hard.

“Ow! What the hell!” You hiss out as your hand comes up to hold it. “I’m starting to see why you’re so worried,” he states angrily before turning on his heels and walking.

“You’re absolutely useless to my game of entertainment. You could have at least done a little bit of flirting.”

He continues to walk, now blocking out your yelling and argument as he sets in his plan to do something about this himself since you can’t do a single thing on your own anymore.

Read next part here! (Coming soon)

A/N: I know this is a itty bit rushed but idc cause the juicy stuff is going to happen now, me and my friend have decided to stop teasing and actually get this done.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #top shelf #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #vada cavell #wednesday addams #jenna ortega fanfic

704 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?” Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

#Damian Wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #robin x reader #Damian Wayne angst #valentine fic #batboy x reader #dc #fns

509 notes · View notes

mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor r @pedro-pastel l @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @beskarprincessjenny @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat t @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84

183 notes · View notes

written-on-the-trees · 3 years

Text

Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2550 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.

She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.

They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie

His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.

That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?

Woman, I am thirty years old.

I have no idea.

God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.

Oh yeah? Was that someone me?

I couldn't say.

It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.

Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.

He'd stopped even trying.

If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.

I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?

I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.

The kids I have in detention are so confused.

As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.

Sorry, Miss Barnes.

Fuck off.

Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.

He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.

He was keeping his fingers crossed.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?

Yeah, course. Everything okay?

Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.

"Hey, you alright?"

'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'

Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."

'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'

"I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"

'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'

"Oh yeah?"

'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'

Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.

He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.

The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.

"I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."

'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'

"Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"

The only response was silence.

Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'

"Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "

'Dinner would be nice.'

Colson's heart stopped.

She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!

"That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."

Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'

"It's a date."

'I can't wait.'

"Me either. I'll see you Friday."

Goddamn...

Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.

Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.

Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."

Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."

Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.

They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.

"Do you two have a reservation?"

"Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.

Colson felt no remorse.

Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.

Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.

Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."

"I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"

"Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."

"Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."

"Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."

Colson laughed.

Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.

It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.

They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.

The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.

"Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."

Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."

Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."

"In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."

"It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."

"I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."

Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.

It was amazing.

#The Trees Writes #Machine Gun Kelly imagine #Machine Gun Kelly fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction #MGK imagine #MGK fanfic #MGK fan fic #MGK fan fiction #Colson Baker imagine #Colson Baker fanfic #Colson Baker fan fic #Colson Baker fan fiction

80 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

Catch a Falling Star

by bookhater95

5 Times Remus was afraid to fly and one time he wasn't. Wolfstar galore

Sirius had already decided that Lupin kid was the odd one before they'd all lined up next to their brooms, him last with tentative steps at the bit of wood. All he did was sleep up in their dorms whenever he wasn't poring over homework, you'd think the lad would enjoy a bit of fun they were being forcibly taught.

James leaned over to whisper in his ear, "I can't decide which is funnier to watch, that guy, or Snivilius?"

Said pompous Slytherin was standing next to his own broom and glowering down at it as if ready to throw a hex at that instead of them for once. How was it possible they seemed the only two ready to have some fun?

A whistle was blown and Sirius' jumped right into his hand of course, he even swung his leg over already before even being prompted and sat proud and ready to do more than just hover, when he again glanced over and saw Remus Lupin looked quite green around the edges, putting some color in his usually gray face.

Pity warred with hilarity, all the idiot had to do was get off the ground, but then, he'd also offered his notes already before they'd even had to ask as a sign of good will if the two promised to keep it down at night, which they'd graciously been doing by being ten times louder in the common room.

At least when they came up and he was snoring away it didn't bother them, Snape on the other hand had been nothing but a useless waste since the train and deserved to have that smarmy look brushed from his face. The fallback would just be happenstance.

A quick curse at just the right spot, and the broom went bucking wildly away with its rider shouting profanities even Sirius didn't yet know. A girl burst out laughing in delight, while Remus watched the progression in horror as if his worst nightmare were being played out. Sirius winced as he realized he hadn't thought that all the way through, but then the other boys eyes caught his, and he smiled. He'd seen him do it, and he mouthed 'thank you' as Snape hit the mud, disbanding their flying practice for now.

The pitch had long since emptied out, James in the lead as he ran across the entirety of their school with excitement for making the team, but Sirius hung back as he sat in the warm sun and trimmed the tails of his precious broom for practice that evening.

Remus came down from the stands and sat beside him until he was finished with that quiet air of his, he hadn't even brought a book this time, just watching him handle his broom with fond exasperation. "I'll never understand you lots appeal to this madness," he told yet again as if he hadn't been doing so for over a year now.

"And I'll never understand how anyone can hate being in the air," Sirius said back at once. "Won't you give it a go, just once?" Remus blanched in disgust and finally took a leery step away from him, eyeing the cloudless sky above as if a hand would reach down and squash them all. "Don't you trust me?" He wheedled. "I've never fallen off a broom and I'm not going to just let you!"

"I'd really rather not," he pleaded. "Honestly Sirius, isn't the promise of sitting in the stands and watching enough for you?"

"For now," he pouted as he slung it over his shoulders and clapped him on the back. "I'll get you one day though, you mark my words."

"Haven't you learned by now not to bet against me," Remus said back with a challenging smile he only ever showed around them.

"You cheated, not getting caught last time!" Sirius was instantly distracted and pulled into the argument as he allowed himself to be steered to lunch.

The moon was three quarters full above them. The stands were empty and every snatch of wind had them standing closer together than normal as they shivered and sized each other up.

"Sirius, this really isn't necessary," Remus whispered. "I said I forgive you, and I do, please stop trying to make it up to me, especially like this."

"Please?" He was, actually begging. He looked as distraught as when he'd confessed what he'd almost done to Snape.

"Why is this so important to you?" Remus wasn't even sure he heard he spoke so quietly.

"Because I," Sirius was still clutching the broom and looking at him with hungry eyes. "I want to, prove that I'm worth, more than just a killer. Moony, I want to give you good memories too."

Remus stepped close and cupped his cheek. Sirius leaned into the touch without breaking eye contact, watching his every inflection carefully. "You've given me more than I'll ever dream of Padfoot," he promised, putting special emphasis on the dog nickname. "I look forward to the future because of you."

Sirius melted in his palm, turning his face just enough to kiss his wrist before covering his hand with his own and smiling. Just a sweet, simple gesture that meant the world to him, that Sirius even seemed to enjoy his touch was a miracle he'd never believe anyone would because of his affliction and Sirius proved wrong every day. "Okay," he whispered, dropping the broom and pulling him in closer.

"What are you up to?" Remus asked, trying to keep the worst of the poutiness out of his voice for going out into the cold November air given the occasion.

"Nope," Sirius refused to answer, again. "It's my birthday, it's my surprise!"

"Pretty sure that's the opposite of how this is suppose to work," he corrected in exhaustion, but was ignored as Sirius got him all the way out to the broom shed and pushed him inside before closing it and leaning in to grin up at him.

Remus started to frown already, his gut clenching unpleasantly at how this was starting even as Sirius tried to coax otherwise by trailing his hand up and down his zipped pants suggestively. "So, shall we do what does work then? Our last year here, I'd love to get the full experiences of life."

"Like getting ourselves expelled early," he tried to curb, plenty distracted by Sirius' nimble fingers but eyes still darting around to all the broom tails suspiciously, the strong smell of wood polish was making him nauseous. "Please be gentle with whatever's about to happen." Sirius laughed lightly, but there was a hesitation now as he prodded at the button but didn't move farther like he was second guessing himself now. "Sirius?" He asked uneasily.

He let his hand drop and pouted up at him. "Never mind, I guess. I thought, I don't know, but never mind."

"Well at least tell me what you were thinking?" He offered in consolation even as he relaxed in relief.

"It's stupid, you'll laugh," he muttered, moving to hold his neck now and pull him in for a proper kiss. "Just, bloody shag me, yeah?"

Guilt tampered out the need though as he gently kissed him back before leaning out and frowning. "You're making me feel like an arse, just tell me, I promise I won't laugh."

"I, um," his eyes darted to his and away to his own broom before going back and repeating the pattern several times before reluctantly blurting, "I was hoping you would, let me give you a ride. Just a small one, I swear, we'd barely hover off the ground, but you clearly still don't want to, so let's just let it go."

Remus bit his lip rather than go back to kissing him as he stroked his hair absently for a few moments and watched hope war with his insistent expression to let it drop back off. "This really means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"No," he impulsively lied. Something of that eleven-year old who still wanted to laugh at anyone being afraid of heights though would always be in his boyfriend, and Remus knew that. "I've never pushed you, have I? Just, thought you'd want to give it a try now, it's been so long, and a lots happened since then. The wizarding world is literally at war Remus, we don't even know how many more birthdays we're going to get, so I just sort of thought this little thing of yours had fallen off. I was wrong, I won't bring it up again, promise."

Remus kissed him then, because he was incapable of doing anything else in that moment or he'd explode. Sirius snogged him back eagerly, and as always let himself be guided anyway Moony wanted as he started pushing and nudging him to whatever position he desired. Sirius obviously wasn't expecting to be let go though when they were in the center of the little space and blinked his eyes open in concern to see Remus reaching out and holding his broom.

It was a gift from the Potter's he'd screamed like a delirious child over, it was the same one he rode on every Quidditch game, so it's not as if Remus grabbed at random. His heart stuttered with hope, but then he just watched in confusion as Remus let it go at chest height. It hovered in place, and then Moony moved fast, he squealed in surprise a noise threat of death couldn't make him admit had issued from his throat as his waist was seized.

"Ask me again after the war," he whispered as he sat him down on it sidesaddle, stepping in-between his legs. "Doesn't mean we can't have some fun in the meantime?"

Sirius laughed in delight and vowed, "I'm going to remember that."

"Her name is Elvendork," Sirius told him with pride as he ran a rag over her chassis one last time.

"Of course it is," Remus nodded without surprise. "Do you plan on many broken bones at once, or just one at a time?"

"Moony, how dare you," Sirius scowled. "I've never fallen out of the air in my life, I most certainly won't start now!"

It was no use telling him otherwise, Sirius was a natural skyborne and he knew it. "Just please be careful," he asked instead. "You and Prongs, watch your back, you promise?"

"Her christening night out Remus!" Sirius reminded with the same delirious happiness he'd had the entire time he'd put her together. "Voldemort himself couldn't knock us out of the air!" He stopped and watched him roll his eyes and bit down hard on his lip to stop himself asking just like he had every other time the idea popped into his head. Remus would say no, he hadn't even gotten within arms length of his beautiful motorcycle. "Kiss for luck never hurts though," he added as he sat astride her.

Remus stepped forward willingly and moved their lips together with eagerness. Blood rushed so fast through Sirius he didn't even stop to consider himself as he abruptly stood up and grabbed him, trying to pull him forward and down with him, and to his utter amazement Remus complied, settling himself down and opening his mouth in an invitation Sirius greedily accepted. Moony even began knotting up his long hair in his fingers and grating against him, it was intoxicating and he longed to let his fingers itch off his waist and just casually flick the engine on, maybe even just being astride it with the power activated would be okay, and if they happened to start getting a bit off the air while he kept Remus distracted than surely-

"Oi! Padfoot! Are you coming or what?"

Sirius startled and fell off the bike as James' voice echoed from his pocket mirror. Remus watched him with amusement as he got up and offered him a hand.

"I hate all of you," he groused as he dug it out.

"Love you too," Moony gave him one last promising peck before stepping back away.

And 1

The Shrieking Shack had been their reunion, but Sirius Black abruptly showing up on his doorstep with a stolen hippogriff while being on the run from the world was their official homecoming.

"Ah Padfoot," he chuckled for old times when Sirius' latest crazy stunt wouldn't surprise him. Actually, that was a lie, Sirius continued to surprise him his whole life with every turn they took. "You know I can't go on the run with you."

"I know," Sirius nodded, he hadn't even dismounted but just smiled down at him as he reached out and gently traced one of the scars he hadn't been there for. "Just couldn't leave without saying goodbye first."

The awkward silence hung as they watched each other. To many words from their past hovered between them, it may even take another long thirteen years to unravel it all and really be able to talk again. Maybe distance would help. Neither still moved away.

"You all unpacked yet?" Sirius stalled even as he drew his hand away. "Settling back in to, whatever the hell you 've been up to."

"We can talk about that later," he promised. "You'll owl me, won't you? The birds won't trace back to you, I swear."

"I'll get word to you Moony," Sirius promised solemnly. He turned away then, looking at the horizon with long dormant eyes that were finally waking up again.

He couldn't bare to watch him leave again without a proper smile. "What's the matter with you, not even going to offer me a ride first?"

"What?" Sirius just looked at him in pure confusion, blinking dazedly like he'd forgotten he was here.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Remus whispered. There was no need to watch him for any hint of a joke. The haggard lines of his face, the mess of his hair and prison robes, it was like looking at a warped mirror of the teenager he'd once loved with all his heart and given out on.

"Forgot what?" Sirius asked in concern. Shit, it wasn't Remus' birthday. Azkaban had taken away memories, but not facts, he still knew dates.

Remus seized his shoulder and climbed without a second of hesitation, hooking his boot into the notch in Buckbeak's wing-joint like a pro as he swung himself up behind him. Wrapping his arms tight around Sirius' waist after thirteen long years felt as natural as breathing, but Sirius remained frozen beneath him in surprise unlike usual. "Padfoot?" He whispered in concern.

"Are you, really offering, I mean, I'd swear I remembered, but maybe I was wrong," he began babbling and wasn't even twitching, unnaturally still.

"I did use to be afraid of heights," he promised, squeezing his hands and resting his forehead against the back of his shoulder. "Please don't do that to yourself. I once told you though I'd give this bloody flying thing a try after the war, and well," he swallowed as he heard how hollow this would probably sound to someone who had never really left the war, time had abandoned Sirius in there. "I won't waste anymore time being afraid of something as silly as a little height. Not when I have you again."

To his horror, Sirius' chest stuttered beneath him, he gasped in a breath and Remus leaned forward to see his old love was actually crying.

"Sirius?" He asked again in concern, moving to get off now and get him to come with him inside. Instead his hands left the birds neck and clamped down on his knees still resting on the wings to hold him in place, breathing raggedly but refusing to move, so Remus waited. He rested his chin on the shirt and leaned over to kiss his wet cheek and neck gently, closing his eyes and just letting him be.

"We can't go back," Sirius finally spoke, and Remus fought back his own sob at hearing true emotion in his voice again, the likes of which he'd thought stripped away from him forever. Love, Sirius still loved him, his past he was still piecing together. "I keep hoping I'll find something out here that hasn't changed, now even shit I didn't know about is different. You'd never get on a broom with me before, would you?"

"No," he admitted, "but I never said I had a problem with winged creatures. You just never asked."

Sirius threw his head back and laughed. That sharp barking noise he'd gone far too long without hearing. "A hippogriff. You're really telling me I never thought of that?"

"I'd never lie about something like this," he grinned, nuzzling as tight into his back as he could. "Now please, the poor creature's getting restless." Buckbeak had been remarkably still and calm beneath them the whole time in fact, but Sirius didn't call him out on it. "Can't I have that ride?"

"Anything for you Moony," Sirius' voice was brimming with excitement, his brittle fingers squeezed Remus' legs before nudging him around a bit, making sure his feet were securely behind the coming wingspan. Remus just held on tighter to his chest and leaned into his every motion with anticipation as Sirius rode with his legs and their hippogriff began a soft walk at once. "Hold on now," Sirius dug his fingers back into the deep gray feathers, sitting properly with his back straight but nearly vibrating with anticipation.

"I'm not letting go," he promised.

Sirius did something with his legs again, and their ride moved to a fast gallop in one stride, Remus worried for a moment his hold went painful on Padfoot but he merely whooped with delight and shouted, "get ready!"

There was no warning that he could tell, the wings burst forth and unfurled with a beautiful glory of streaming feathers already flapping and beating the air around them as they launched into the dark night, the two laughing the entire time.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #Wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #flying #5n1 #five and one

7 notes · View notes

hyunsracha · 4 years

Text

now or never — bang chan

word count: 4.5k

summary: liquid courage lets you jump at your last chance to tell him how you feel.

one.

Han Jisung might just be your least favorite person on the planet. You think this when he leans over your shoulder, your thumbs paused above your phone’s keyboard. Your phone was open to Instagram as you struggled to think of a caption for this particular post. It wasn’t anything special, just a picture of you and Chan at the annual fair over the weekend. The two of you had gone together every year since you were little kids. It was one of your favorite traditions.

“I have an idea.” Jisung took the phone from your hands, his fingers quickly getting to work as you yelled protests at him, “Relax! It’s nothing bad.”

Oh, but it was.

“We look like a couple here?! Jisung, are you serious?” You cried out, yanking the phone back from him and editing the post before anyone (hopefully) saw. The boy next to you cackled.

“It’s not like anyone would be surprised. Everyone already thinks you’re together.” He nonchalantly shoved fries into his mouth as he spoke. Jisung ate like a pig, but you didn’t complain about it anymore. Last time you did that, he got all up in your ear and started chewing with his mouth open. Disgusting.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Yeah, shut up, Han.” You don’t even flinch when Chan and Changbin take their seats across from you. You could practically sense when one of the three boys was going to appear. Changbin said it was because your friendship was so strong, but in reality, they all wore such strong cologne, you’d be an idiot not to sense them.

“I literally did nothing and you’re attacking me.” Jisung whined, kicking Chan’s shin under the table. Chan gasped, kicking him back with more force. They would do this for hours if you didn’t stop them.

“Guys-” You started, but you stopped yourself. Jisung deserved to be kicked.

The four of you were hardly quiet when you were together, so you ate your lunches and talked about your day. Jisung got the chance to tell Chan and Changbin about him spilling folic acid all over his crush in chemistry, which he told you about on the way to your shared history class.

“It was mortifying! He’s never going to want to talk to me again!” He cried, hiding his face behind his hands, “I was even planning on asking him to prom! Now what am I gonna do?”

Suddenly, everyone’s attention was on Jisung.

“Prom?” Changbin yelled, his eyes wide.

“Yes?”

“We were supposed to go to that together, you dick!”

“It’s my senior year! I wanted to shoot my shot!”

“Yeah! Senior year! That’s why we were going together!” Changbin shook his head, false disappointment evident on his face.

“Well, since we’re asking people to prom now,” Chan started, folding his hands on the table. He bit his lip, darting his eyes around the room, “Y/N...do you maybe...wanna go to prom with me?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. Your fingers twisted themselves around each other as you pulled your lip between your teeth, willing yourself not to smile like a lovestruck idiot. This was your best friend, asking you to prom as his best friend. You pulled yourself together, heaving a sigh before you replied,

“Yeah, totally. It’s a date.”

“IT’S A DATE? Have I lost my fucking mind?” You fell back onto your bed, staring at your ceiling in disbelief. Jisung cackled from his seat at your desk, obviously very pleased by your choice of words at lunch. He invited himself over to your house, wanting to discuss prom plans with you, but you two were getting nowhere. As soon as you got home, you ran to your room to wallow in your own peril. You remembered how Chan had smiled at you when you accepted his proposal, his eyes managing to sparkle even under the shitty fluorescent lights the cafeteria provided.

“I’ve only been waiting four years for one of you to slip up. I’m glad it was you so we can talk about it. That asshole Chan still hasn’t confessed his undying love for you to me. But I bet he told Changbin. Fucking traitor.” He started to ramble, his eyes drifting across the paintings on the wall, “Hey,” he pointed to one in the corner, “this one is new.”

You nodded, gazing at the painting yourself. You had only hung it up a few days prior. You smiled, remembering the night you painted it. Chris was at your house, taking up all the space on your desk with his laptop, portable keyboard, and hard drive. He was working on a 3RACHA song, like he usually was. You always found those days with Chan so relaxing. The two of you didn’t need words to communicate with each other, you had your art. He would make music and you would paint, and your art would always end up reflecting the other’s. The song he was working on that night, Alchemistry, showed itself in your painting, swirling clouds of grey in a fading sky of purple and black.

“Since we’re not going as a group anymore, I need to find a way to ask Hyunjin to prom.” Jisung sulked, opening up one of his one thousand notebooks. Jisung was a notebook kinda guy. He wrote every little thought down, just in case something could be used in a future song of his. And if he wanted to find something specific? Get ready for notebooks being tossed at your head as he sifts through every single one because he doesn’t label or organize anything.

“Write him a song.” You suggested, gaze still trapped in that painting. Now that you were thinking about it, most of the paintings on that wall had something to do with Chan. It was like he had seeped into every corner of your life, including the darkest and most personal ones.

“That’s your answer for everything I do.”

“Because your songs are good?” Not that you were lying. Your three best friends made up the rap trio 3RACHA. Were you a little bit jealous that they didn’t even ask if you wanted to be part of it? Yes, but you designed their album covers, so you forgive them.

Jisung was silent for a second, pondering your idea. Then he nodded, flipping to an empty page in the neon green notebook. He started scribbling, and you can’t really tell if it’s lyrics or drawings. But you looked away, letting Jisung do his thing. Pulling yourself up from the bed, you made your way to your closet, flinging the doors open with a huff. You scanned the rows of clothing before deciding that you definitely needed to go prom shopping.

“I need something new, something that screams-”

“Please date me?”

You scoffed, “Han Jisung, you’re going to be the death of me.”

two.

Your room was an absolute disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere, makeup and hair products settling on every surface. You hardly noticed the mess, you were so...excited? Anxious? You didn’t really know.

It was the big day.

Changbin was laying on your bed, no doubt texting Chan about how dramatic you and Jisung were being. Jisung was three inches away from your mirror, sucking in a breath as he applied a line of dark brown eyeliner. You were on the other side of the room, running your hands through your hair as you decided what to do with it.

“Just leave it how it is, Y/N, who cares that much?”

“I care that much, Changbin!” You huffed, deciding to leave it how it was anyway.

The only reason Chan wasn’t with you guys is because he was now your date. Jisung had banished him and Hyunjin from the room as soon as you started getting ready, claiming that he wanted your looks to be a surprise.

“I’m giving you guys ten minutes before we leave, alright? I’m getting a fucking drink.”

“Your favorite juice is on the bottom shelf.” You called out as Changbin was leaving the room.

“I know where the juice is!” He shut the door firmly, leaving you and Jisung alone.

“Y/N,” he sighed heavily, having just finished his wing, “I think I’m going to piss myself.”

“That’s a rented tux-”

“I didn’t mean it literally! I’m just...really nervous.”

You nodded, moving from your spot to go comfort the boy, “If it’s any consolation, you look super hot. And I’ll make out with you if Hyunjin doesn’t.”

He laughed, and you could feel the nervous energy around him dissipate a little bit.

Once the two of you were ready, Jisung opened your bedroom door, calling out to the boys below. He linked arms with you before walking out the door and down the stairs slowly.

Chan turned around when he heard movement on the stairs, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. His face turned bright pink as he adjusted his tie. He cleared his throat, extending a hand for you to take, “You look...um...really...n-nice, bunny.”

You breathed out a nervous laugh, feeling your stomach churn at Chan’s nickname for you since you were children, “Thank you. You look...nice, too.”

Jisung unhooked your arms and wandered over to Hyunjin, and you could hear them mumbling soft compliments to each other, both of their faces tinged pink.

The car ride to the school seemed to be the most normal feeling part of the night. You all talked to each other, awkwardness temporarily thrown out the window. You laughed at Jisung’s impressions, trying to avoid the weight of Chan’s hand in yours. It felt nice; right, even. His grip was tight, but in a comforting way. Every once in a while, his thumb would gently graze over your skin, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

Once you got inside the gym, it all changed again. Now, Chan wasn’t just your best friend. He was your date, and you got all dressed up for each other, and everybody was looking at you two. He sent a charming smile your way, half bowing and extending yet another hand for you, “May I have this dance?”

And it was okay again, for a little while. The two of you danced, all worries about keeping face and feelings out of your mind. Your friends joined you for some of the songs, and you finally got to see Hyunjin dance. For months, Jisung would rave about how amazing he was. And you agreed; he certainly deserved his spot as co-president of the dance team.

An hour or so into the dance, a slightly sweaty Chan pulled you away from the dance floor and over to the refreshments. Confused, you asked, “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. I just want some punch.”

“And you had to take me away with you. Felix was just about to throw it back!” You whined, feigning disappointment. In reality, you were kinda glad to be out of the dance circle. High school kids really didn’t understand the concept of personal space when it came to these things. And besides, you wouldn’t mind some alone time with Chan.

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested to him, “we’re both sweaty. We could use some air.”

He nodded, taking your hand again. Pushing open the gymnasium doors, the two of you were met with a cool spring breeze. You sighed, letting your eyes shut for just a moment. In that one moment, Chan’s eyes were trained on you, fondness practically seeping from his pores. He took you to his favorite spot on campus, the music hallway. It was his favorite place to study, and the acoustics were dope, just in case he felt like bursting into song. Jisung did that sometimes.

The two of you sat on the cold cement floor, giggling at each other like little kids. You weren’t worried about what your friends inside the gym would think. You were just thinking about Chan. Chan and his dimpled smile and his sparkly eyes and his calloused but still gentle hands and how he was getting closer and why he was getting closer and - oh, his lips tasted like peach. You always liked peaches. So you kissed him back, because he tasted like peach. Not because you’ve been head over heels for him since the 7th grade. Absolutely not. Although, to be fair, 7th grade you would be absolutely geeked at how good of a kisser Chan was. How those calloused hands still managed to hold your face like it was made of porcelain while he sucked on your bottom lip like he would die without it.

He pulled away first, the popping sound of your lips disconnecting making you blush.

“That was - I - I’m sorry-”

“Sorry for what?”

“I just kissed you!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oh,” He gaped, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s just that, yanno, I dunno. The prom...energy...got to me...haha.”

You stared at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip, trying to push the feeling of his lips out of your mind. You forced a smile, “Totally! And we...don’t have to mention this to anybody if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah...that would be best...let’s go back to the gym.” He stood and pulled you up with him. How he can stand to still hold your hand after crushing your heart like that, you couldn’t understand. But you let him.

You would always let him.

three.

It only takes two weeks for you to tell someone about the kiss. Granted, you’re drunk. And it’s Jisung. And he’s offended it took so long.

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I’m not just anyone, Y/N! Let’s not forget, I told you about my first kiss with Hyunjin when it happened!” He was practically yelling.

“You guys are dating! Chan and I are not dating!” You cried out, your grip on the plastic cup in your hand tightening. You weren’t really sure what was in the cup. Changbin had brought you one of his concoctions, promising to get you fucked up. And you just graduated high school, you deserved it! Thank whatever higher power that Choi Lia’s parents were on route to Canada right now.

“You guys still aren’t together? That’s so embarrassing.” Jisung hiccuped. He had the lowest alcohol tolerance you had ever seen, and you knew Lee Felix. You smacked his arm, apparently harder than you thought, because he yelped in pain. Or maybe he was just being dramatic. You pouted, staring at the neon green liquid in your cup. Sighing, you downed the rest of it, your face contorting at the awful taste. You figured you needed to be wasted to deal with Jisung’s bitching for the rest of the night. You loved the boy to pieces, but he sure had a mouth on him.

Seemingly out of thin air, Hyunjin appeared next to Jisung, immediately slinking an arm around the shorter’s waist. Jisung giggled, “Hey, handsome.”

“Don’t do this in front of me.”

They couldn’t hear you, “I’ve been looking for you all night, babylove. Should’ve guessed I’d find you with Y/N.”

“Was the glittery silver blazer not enough for you to spot him? He looks like New Year’s Eve in May.”

Still ignoring you, Jisung poked Hyunjin’s chest teasingly, “Sounds like you missed me.” He bit down on his lip, and that was the last straw for you. You huffed, making your way to where Changbin was in the kitchen.

“Hey, Y/N! How was the drink?”

“Absolutely horrible. Make me another one.”

Changbin took the cup from your hands, pouring random amounts of various liquids into it. He handed it to you with a sly smirk, warning you to drink slowly. Not that you ever listened to Changbin. You pulled yourself onto the kitchen counter, sipping on the horrible substance while making conversation. You ignored the dark cloud seeping into your mind while he spoke about college. Chan, Changbin, and Jisung had all made it into the same university, as they had submitted 3RACHA songs with their applications. You weren’t a musician, so you were going to a different university that focused more on your kind of art. It was only two hours away, but that was two hours farther than you had been from them in years.

“Hey,” You interrupted his tangent, your voice barely above a whisper, “You guys aren’t gonna...forget about me, right?”

His smile dropped, “Of course not. We’re still gonna be best friends, aren’t we? And we’re gonna see each other every weekend, and when we come home for holidays, we’ll be together all the time.” He closed the gap between you two, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. It was awkward positioning, but Changbin’s hugs always made you feel secure. You swallowed your tears, mumbling a shaky, “thank you,” into his ear.

When he let you go, you quickly finished the rest of the drink and tossed the cup into a nearby trash can. Your last drink was starting to hit you, big time. A sudden determination filled your veins, “Hey, Binnie?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you seen Chan lately?”

“He’s probably with Seungmin somewhere.”

You nodded, jumping off the counter and starting your pursuit. It shouldn’t be that hard. How many guys did you know with fried blond hair?

After a few minutes of searching, you found him sitting on the couch with Seungmin like Changbin had said. Seungmin made a joke, and Chan threw his head back as he laughed. God, he was so...stunning. A gasp escaped your lips as you watched him. You felt your determination wither for a second, but you pushed through. This is your last chance, Y/N, you thought to yourself. It’s now or never.

“Can I talk to you?”

A look of alarm crossed Chan’s features as he nodded. He sounded unsure as he spoke, “Yeah, totally. What’s up?”

“I mean,” You glanced at the boy sitting next to him, “alone.”

A soft oh left Chan’s lips as he stood. He nodded to Seungmin before gripping your hand like he’s done so many times before. You could just barely hear Seungmin’s laughing as Chan pulled you away. Wait, you were the one who asked him to talk, why was he dragging you around?

To be honest, Chan didn’t know either. For him, taking your hand and leading you to secret places just seemed...natural to him. He led you up the stairs and into the first room he found. Lia’s room. Lia wouldn’t mind; she was a good friend. He closed the door behind you two, locking it just to be sure.

“What’s up, bunny?”

Your heart began to pound in your chest as you sat down on the bed. You sucked in a breath, making eye contact with Chan as you folded your hands, “I’m in love with you.”

He just stared at you, not even blinking. You watched his chest rise and fall with his breaths. An excruciating minute passed, which felt like hours to you, before he made his way across the room and next to you on the bed.

“Y/N…” He had hardly finished saying your name before your heart shattered, “we’re going to different schools next year. You’ll be focusing on your painting and I’ll be producing probably non-stop. I...wouldn’t be a good boyfriend to you.”

You tried to hold in the tears, you really did, but you were drunk and the boy you’ve been in love with for like 5 years just rejected you and you’re cold. So you couldn’t really help the choked sob that comes from your throat, and you had to restrain yourself from throwing yourself at him for comfort. He started to stutter, “N-No that’s not what I meant! I mean, it is, but don’t cry!” He clasped your shoulders and pulled you to him, allowing your tears to flow freely on his nice black shirt, “Y/N, you know I have feelings for you. I just...won’t be able to be there for you like you need me to. I want to be with you, I really do. It would just end in heartbreak. I would rather still be your best friend and only that than have you hate me as a boyfriend, okay?”

“I’ll wait for you.” You barely managed to get those words out through your cries.

“No, you won’t. Please don’t. Please move on, bunny.” You removed yourself from his hold, scrunching your nose up to sniffle the tears away.

“Can we just...go to bed?”

The smile that he gave you in that moment broke your heart again; so sad and sincere.

“Of course.” He laid you down, holding you close enough to hear his heartbeat. He was so warm.

God, how you wished you could stay like that forever.

four.

Chan couldn’t tell if he was more excited or nervous to see you. Your group hadn’t seen each other as much as you had hoped. At the beginning of the semester, you met up every weekend, excitedly chatting about your new classes and the new people in your lives. But as life continued, it got in the way. You hadn’t seen each other face to face since October, opting for texts and FaceTime sessions instead. And he missed you terribly. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?

He found himself thinking of you often. Even during songwriting sessions with Jisung and Changbin. They laughed at him when his lyrics became sappy, threatening to pull their phones out and text you Chan’s adoration. He regretted what he told you back in May; that he wouldn’t be good to you.

He sat in the living room of his childhood home, fidgeting in his seat. Changbin was scrolling through channels on the TV, a bored expression on his features. Jisung and Hyunjin were in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for the third time that night.

He couldn’t focus. You were going to knock on that door any moment, your parents in tow, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. Cry? Run into your arms? Fuck, try and kiss you? He stood abruptly, scaring the boy next to him.

“I-I’ll be right back.” He excused himself, hurrying to lock himself in his bedroom to breathe.

Changbin opened the front door, his eyes lighting up at the sight of one of his best friends, “Y/N!”

“Is Y/N here?” Jisung yelled from the kitchen, the pitter patter of his feet telling you that he was running your way. Two pairs of arms wrapped around you. They walked you through the door, with Changbin yelling something to your parents about where the other parents were. You felt your mother’s hand on your back, a way for her to tell you that they were going. When the boys finally released you, they noticed one other figure in the room.

“Oh…” Jisung gasped. Changbin just stared, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Um-” You coughed, trying to relive some of the tension, “where’s Chan?”

“In his room.”

You nodded before heading that way, lightly tapping on the door three times, “Channie? It’s Y/N.”

The door swung open, a breath-taking smile on the boy’s face. He wrapped you up in his embrace, swinging you around as he yelled your name.

“How have you been? How are you? Wow, you look so pretty!” His hands cupped your face, lightly dragging his thumbs over your cheekbones. You placed your hands over his, a dull heartbeat in your chest as you watched him speak.

Chan’s heart was pounding in his chest. He thought you could hear it, and that’s why you were looking at him so...analytically. They’re right here, he thought. You lost your chance last time, but maybe it’s not too late. Now or never, Chan.

“Listen, Y/N…” He sighed, “about what I said after graduation, at that party-”

“No, don’t-”

“Please just let me say this.”

You nodded, allowing him to continue, “I was wrong, okay? I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. I should’ve just...given us a shot. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. You can ask the guys, all my lyrics have been about you, and they’re ridiculously cheesy. I know I told you to move on but...maybe I still have a place in your heart? And...maybe we can...try this?”

You couldn’t breathe. You shook your head, pulling away from him, “Chan, I-”

Seven months ago, you would’ve jumped for joy at his confession. Taken him into your arms and kissed him until you were dizzy. But now…

“Baby! How long were you gonna wait until you introduced me?”

Chan froze. Baby? Who the hell was calling you baby?

You took a few steps back, glancing over at the boy next to you, “Channie...this is my boyfriend, Minho.”

Boyfriend. You had a...boyfriend. You went and did exactly what he told you to do, but his heart still shattered. But he plastered a smile on his face anyway, shaking Minho’s hand, “I’m Bang Chan. One of Y/N’s best friends. Welcome to her second home.”

And the night continued like that. Your best friends focused their attention entirely on you and Minho. They asked him an endless amount of questions, from where he grew up to his favorite kind of bean. Sometimes, you would notice Jisung or Changbin giving Chan a sympathetic glance, but you ignored it. Minho was a good boyfriend, and you were genuinely happy with him. You didn’t expect your feelings for Chan to leave you so quickly, but distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder.

The five of you spent most of your winter break together. The only day you didn’t see each other was Christmas, which was spent with your families. The next day, you had your own Christmas, like you did every year.

The hardest day for Chan was New Year’s Eve. You had a party at Changbin’s house, with as many kids from your graduating class as possible. It reminded him of that night after graduation. Jisung still wore that ugly silver blazer, drunk and attached to his boyfriend all night. Changbin still made horrible, hangover inducing nightmare drinks that he persuaded poor college students into drinking. You were drunk again, too. But instead of crying into Chan’s chest like before, you were giggling up a storm with your new boyfriend. Chan watched from afar, jealousy pumping through his veins at the way you draped yourself across his lap, and how he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. That should’ve been him.

10 seconds before midnight, he felt sick. Everyone around him was so giddy, so excited for a new start. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from you two. Your hands were locked together, staring into each other’s eyes as you counted down the seconds. The TV at the front of the room screamed, “Happy New Year,” as he watched Minho’s lips crash against yours, a smile evident on both of your faces. He stalked out of the living room, making a beeline for the bar.

He had to get over you, the way you had so easily gotten over him. And he had to get over you now or never.

389 notes · View notes

rikalovesrice · 3 years

Text

Douxie x Reader #5 - Favorite

Douxie was wiping down some freshly washed coffee mugs when you walked in. He raised a hand, about to call your name in greeting, when he noticed a boy follow you in. Some stocky lad with a chiseled face and hair slicked back with so much gel one couldn’t tell what color it was. The pair of you found seats in the corner of the café, setting book bags in the chairs and laptops on the table. Douxie watched you say something to the guy before you headed towards the counter. You saw Douxie and immediately smiled.

“Hi you,” you said, leaning on the counter, hands curled around your face.

“(Name),” Douxie replied, preparing your usual. “Who’s that over there?”

You glanced back at the chap, who had just taken a selfie and was now busying himself with posting it to social media. You turned back to Douxie with a sigh.

“Trevor Braxton,” you say. “He’s my partner for my final English project.” You groaned and put your face in your hands before sliding them down your cheeks. “Jeez, I really hope we work well together because this is the biggest project of the year and I kinda need to pass this class to graduate.” You peeked at Douxie and hushed your voice. “...I probably won’t be able to go hunting with you guys for a while.”

Douxie shrugged, smiling softly. “No worries.” They’d miss your company, but at least you’d be completely out of harm’s way for once. “And I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He slid your freshly made drink over to you in your favorite mug, the dark blue one depicting the silhouettes of rooftops and chimneys beneath stars and a crescent moon. “One hazelnut latte with almond milk. On me as always.”

You took the warm mug in your hands, wafting the steam with a content sigh. You smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Douxie.”

“Of course.”

“Well, we better get started. I’ll uh...Be over here!” You made your way back over to Trevor Braxton, who welcomed you back with a fist bump. Once you settled in, the two of you got to discussing your chosen topics. Towards the end of the night, when Benoit’s was shutting things down and Trevor had gone, you only exchanged a few words with Douxie before retiring home to do more homework.

And for the next three days, you and Douxie barely had a chance to talk. You were up to your eyeballs in schoolwork and studying for your finals and researching for your stupid project, hoping Trevor would pull his weight. Meanwhile Douxie was feeling your absence, bummed that all your time was consumed at the local library instead of Arcane Books. Archie and Zoe missed you, too. Douxie knew it would be like this at least for the next two weeks, until finals were over. His heart sunk at the thought.

So tonight, Douxie was overjoyed to see you stumble into Benoit’s with an armful of books. Trevor was right behind you, wearing a fitted t-shirt, gym shorts, and white socks with his black slides. You unloaded more books and your laptops onto the coffee table in the middle of the café. Douxie returned your soft, relieved smile when you hurried over to him.

“Douxieeee,” you whined, going to lean your forehead against his chest.

“There you are,” Douxie said. He brought you into a hug and didn’t overlook how exhausted you were.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You pulled away, sighing heavily. “I’m so swamped. But thankfully my sister’s just as busy so she’s leaving me alone. And Trevor...” You glanced back at him. “He hasn’t been so bad. He’s pretty chill actually. Smart, too.”

“No worries. And...that’s good to hear. About your sister and about...Trevor.”

Strange, though, that the smallest hint of it somehow didn’t feel good at all.

Throughout the shift Douxie would glance over at your table. You and Trevor would exchange a few words before burying yourselves back into your notes. Trevor had a book open in his lap and was studying it carefully. Wanting to check on you, and perhaps suggest taking a break, Douxie turned to make his way over to your table.

Only to see you laughing. Trevor Braxton was chuckling with you.

Normally Douxie loved it when you laughed. But right now, as endearing as it was, for some reason something felt...wrong. So wrong that it froze Douxie in place, leaving him staring, perplexed. Trevor said something else and you laughed again, this time a little harder. Trevor’s grin grew wider. The itching wrongness grew stronger. The whole thing wasn’t sitting right and urge to correct it, whatever that meant, churned throughout Douxie’s body. There was a passing thought, a fleeting feeling, that something was going to happen to you. Just as Douxie was about to move towards you, a customer called out.

“Uh Douglas, can I get another milkshake?”

Douxie whirled his head to the side, seeing a bunch of teenagers raising their empty glasses at him. He looked back at your table, where you and Trevor were now in casual conversation, before taking a deep breath, clearing his mind.

“Of course, right away.” Another quick glance back. Then he went back behind the counter, pouring milk and scooping ice cream into blenders. Douxie watched the ingredients spin rapidly, mixing and mushing together.

A whirring vortex.

Douxie heard you giggling.

Uneasy.

“I swear something’s not right,” Douxie said. “I just have a bad feeling about him.”

“Ok so...You think he could be something?” Zoe said.

Douxie held his hand over his mouth, speaking low into his phone.

“If he is, (Name) might be in danger. He’s always around her.”

“Caaause of her project or whatever?”

“Yes!”

“So...Let me get this straight. You have a bad feeling about this guy who’s always around (Name).”

“Yes.” Exasperated, Douxie walked about aimlessly, wandering towards the cafe’s restrooms.

There was a pause. Douxie frowned when Zoe chuckled.

“Um, Doux, are you sure you’re not just -”

“Zoe, I’m serious!” Douxie whispered harshly, holding his phone away from his face to glare at Zoe’s contact photo. “I don’t want to take any chances, especially if our friend might be in trouble.” Stopping near the men’s restroom, Douxie held his chin in thought. “He’s one of those obnoxiously handsome types. A vampire...? No, I’ve seen him in sunlight. So he can’t be an incubus either, thank God...” Now that was a thought that really made Douxie’s skin crawl and boil. “Oh! Or maybe he’s a -”

A bout of laughter came muffled through the restroom door.

“Alright Star Trev, you got this!” a very dude-ish voice exclaimed. “Any moment now and you’ll have her right where you want her.”

Douxie near dropped his phone, his blood going cold.

“Uh, Douxie?” Zoe said. “What -”

“Shhh!” Douxie clamped a hand over his phone and creeped closer to the restroom, carefully putting his ear just over the door. Trevor continued to chuckle to himself, an annoying, snot-nosed sound.

“Just a little longer,” Trevor said, voice getting lower. “And that heart’s gonna be yours. And it’ll be...delicious.” There’s was smack like the clapping of hands and another string of laughter. Douxie slowly backed away from the door, disgust and dread seizing him.

“A charmling,” he said, voice quivering. Charmlings. Simple creatures that resembled attractive humans, luring their victims in with their, well, charm, before literally ripping their hearts out to devour. All things considered, this was the most probable conclusion. So Douxie steeled himself, clenching a fist and glowering at the restroom door concealing an apparent monster that was targeting you.

“A charmling? Are you for real?” He forgot Zoe was still on the line. “I mean seriously, Douxie, are you sure you’re not just a little bit jea-”

“I’ll call you back.” Douxie hung up, shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt and turning tail to where you were. He had to let you know. One of his co-workers cocked an eyebrow at his rushing back into the dining room.

“Uh, Doux? You still have, like, fifteen minutes left of your break- “

“It’s fine!” Douxie quickly located you at your table, where you were studiously typing away on your laptop. Douxie walked briskly over. “(Name)!”

You looked up from your work and blushed, giving Douxie a smile for the pleasant interruption. Then you noticed how antsy he was.

“Douxie? What’s the matter?”

“It’s Trevor, (Name),” Douxie said quickly. “He’s- “

“What about me?”

Douxie whipped around. Speak of the devil, standing with his bulky arms crossed over the all-capitalized word ‘SPICY’ on his red t-shirt. Trevor’s narrowed eyes didn’t leave Douxie as he sat back down at the table, slipping what looked to be his phone into his pocket. The corner of Douxie’s mouth twitched when you looked at him with that kind, welcoming, precious look of yours but, oh, if only you knew...

“You were gone for a while,” you said. “Everything okay?”

“Wha?” Trevor noticed you and grinned. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just had to take care of something, you know?”

It only made Douxie’s eyes harden. Charmlings had to preen themselves periodically to maintain their striking human guise. Make sure claws and fangs and patches of non-human skin were well put away until it was time. That time wasn’t going to come, not if Douxie had an atom of anything to say about it.

“Uh, you got a problem, dude?” Trevor said, likely feeling the intensity of Douxie’s stare. You hadn’t noticed and just frowned at Trevor’s rude tone.

Douxie opened his mouth, stinging accusation on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembered where he was. It probably wasn’t the best idea to expose some good-looking guy as a flesh-ripping, heart-eating monster in front of the peacefully oblivious civilians of Arcadia chilling in the café.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Douxie forced a smile.

“Of course not,” he said. “I uh...Just wanted to tell you you’re our one-hundredth customer tonight! So you get, uh...a free beverage of your choice.” Douxie’s thoughts bitterly added, Free because I’m paying for it...

Trevor silently glowered at Douxie for a few seconds before breaking out into excited chortling, rubbing his hands together.

“Hoho, sweet! Gimme a large Jungle Juice smoothie. Extra spinach.”

Douxie’s gnashed his teeth behind his lips in an attempt to keep from scowling. “Right away.”

His eyes flickered over to you. You had one brow raised in question, clearly sensing something was amiss. Unable to say much else, Douxie sighed and left the table. Text. He was going to text you, he was going to text you...

“Yeaaahh, ya boy’s gonna get us an A plus, (Name)!” Trevor’s voice was a distinct bark above the conversations buzzing around the dining room, grating on Douxie’s nerves. That fact that he’d said your name somehow made it worse.

A lot worse.

Co-workers were a bit perturbed to see an unusually grouchy Douxie glaring dark daggers across the room while dumping an entire bag of spinach into a blender.

They were being pelted by globs of acidic monster saliva but that didn’t stop Douxie from answering his phone as soon as it rang.

“(Name)!” Douxie exclaimed, yelling above monstrous gurgling and loud blasts of magic.

“D-Douxie?” you voice came through. “Okay, I...I don’t get it. Trevor is dangerous and trying to eat my heart?” An explosion, courtesy of Archie. “Um, what was that? Are you fighting something right now?”

“Well, uh, yes, but that’s not important - GAAHH!” Douxie whirled out of the way of a mouthful of teeth, the creature instead taking a chunk out of the pavement. The new hole in the ground was steaming, melting away. The creature, a poisonous and slimy mubok, twisted its serpentine body of sludge back towards him, its white drooping eyes glaring.

“Hey! Why are you on the phone right now?!” Zoe barked, throwing handfuls of lightning at the mubok.

“Just a second!” Douxie said. “Real quick, I have to tell (Name) about Trevor!”

The next blast of electric magic sent the mubok splatting against the alley wall. An exasperated Zoe faced Douxie with clenched fists.

“Are. You. Joking?!”

“No, I’m not! This is important-”

Yeah, now realizing the time, you shouldn’t have called. Not wanting to jeopardize the hunt tonight, you hurried to put the call on hold. “Doux, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I think you need to concentrate.”

“What? No, wait, (Name)-”

“I know, I’ll be careful, alright?” You couldn’t help but laugh softly over Douxie being so worried about you. Sometimes it was overbearing, but even then the giddiness bubbling inside you was there. “Tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, okay, just whatever you do, don’t go anywhere alone with hi- OH FUZZBUCKETS!!!” Another explosion and what sounded like Archie yowling, and the call ended anyway.

You brought your phone away from your face and just stared at it, trying to process. To be honest, nothing surprised you much these days, what with finding out and knowing for a while now that wizards and trolls and whatever else existed. Heck, aliens were real at this point.

Now the guy who’s your partner for a project worth eighty percent of your grade might be trying to eat you.

As soon as Trevor excused himself from the table, Douxie made his way over to you, giving Trevor the side eye as they passed each other. The git was going towards the restroom.

Douxie pulled up a chair and sat next to you. After so long of being away from him, the warmth and comfort of Douxie’s closeness was almost overwhelming. Even panicked and suspicious, Douxie was so cute and amazing. But remembering the disturbing news, you shook away your reverie and set your books to the side.

“Okay so...about Trevor,” you began, leaning close and your tone hushed.

“Right,” Douxie said. He went on to explain what a charmling was. “Terrible things. I knew someone years ago who’d fallen victim to one. The poor guy was found with a gaping wound in his chest. His eyes were stolen, too, which was odd- “

“Umm, okay, thanks,” you muttered, shuddering. Douxie quickly backpedalled.

“Sorry!” He leaned his elbow on the table, bringing himself closer to you and darn it, you couldn’t help but blush. “We can take care of this tonight. Convince him to stay until closing and I’ll do him in.” Douxie cocked his head in confusion when you suddenly looked...sad. “What is it?”

“It’s just...Geez, it kinda sucks,” you said, shrugging. “I thought Trevor was a pretty cool guy. Surprisingly hilarious, too, and a solid partner. Are you sure he’s a charmling or whatever?”

Normally you wouldn’t doubt Douxie on secret monster matters but the thought of your ditzy but harmless enough classmate being sent to limbo was quite the bummer. But on the other hand, yeah, you kind of needed your heart to stay alive so...

Hearing you vouch for Trevor even in the slightest was making Douxie’s stomach coil. Something in him was urging him to consider your words, that maybe he was jumping the gun here, but Douxie couldn’t bring himself to stop and think this time. Too....bothered.

Trevor’s smug face crossed Douxie’s mind.

No, make that too annoyed.

“Believe me, I heard him clearly in the bathroom that day,” Douxie said. He nudged your arm. “Come on, I know a monster when I see one. Been doing this for centuries after all.”

Your shoulders slouched with a sighing chuckle. “True. I’ll figure something out. He may be book smart but otherwise Trevor’s a bit on the...dense side.”

“Works in our favor then.”

You noticed Trevor returning from the restroom and watched him closely. Trevor winked at you but his face soured at the sight of Douxie.

“What’re you doing here Mr. Emo Dude?”

“Hey, Trevor!” Okay, granted, you didn’t like the way Trevor talked to Douxie. Granted again, it made more sense now. Trevor could probably sense somehow that Douxie wasn’t normal himself.

Douxie met Trevor’s gaze evenly, drumming his fingers on the table and feigning pleasantries. You scolding the guy somehow made it easier. “I’m just talking with my friend. Haven’t been able to see her much these days, what with your project.”

Trevor snorted, plopping down into his chair. “Uh, alright man. We’re almost finished, though. I mean once we get our A plus I’ll be done with her, right (Name)?” Trevor lightly smacked your shoulder in what appeared to be jest, snickering at his own perceived hilarity. But you’d gone stiff and your heart began to race because with Trevor in a whole new context, that just didn’t sound good at all.

Then you felt Douxie’s familiar hand on your shoulder. He had his other hand behind his back balled into a fist.

“Good,” Douxie said shortly, still working a tight smile. “I’ll leave you two be then.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze before getting up, putting his chair back where he got it, and returning to work.

“Pfft, what a weirdo,” Trevor murmured.

“Uh, hey so...” You racked your brain, trying to come up with something, anything. Trevor was holding his phone and an idea came involving his latest obsession. “Did you know that Benoit’s has a special deal with the Granny’s Baking House app?”

Even though you’d been absent after hours for a while now, everyone still knew you as the girl who always stayed behind and waited for Douxie. Kind of odd that some dude was with you this time but whatever. As long as you didn’t make a mess.

You and Trevor had packed all your things away. Trevor was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you slip away, wringing your hands, and join Douxie near the counter.

“Okay, I want you to go outside, but don’t go far,” Douxie said, securing his charm bracelet around his forearm. He didn’t want you in here once they got started. “He’ll try to follow you...” Magic flashed over the surface of his bracelet, symbols flickering. “But that’ll be the end of it.”

“Got it.” You went back over to the table and gathered your things. “Well, I’m going to head home. Thanks again, Trevor.”

He glanced up from his phone. “Want me to walk you?”

“Eh, no it’s okay! I’ll be fine. And I wouldn’t want you to miss your big boost.”

“Pfft, bro, it’s cool,” he said, shrugging. “It’s, like, super late and dark outside. I don’t anything to happen to you, you know?”

Trevor flashed his pearly whites in a smile and you swallowed, chills rippling down your spine.

“...Right. Thanks.”

Getting his stuff, Trevor followed you to the door. You made sure to go first, and as soon as you were completely outside, the door slammed shut behind you. You spun around, gaping as the door and windows were outlined with Douxie’s blue magic. The door locked on its own and the lights inside died, plunging the café in partial darkness.

“What the heck?” Trevor pushed and pulled on the door but to no avail. You took a step back when Trevor looked at you, gritting his teeth, and tried ramming the glass. Still nothing.

“You’re not going anywhere, Star Trev.” Douxie emerged from the shadows, magic pulsing in his hands. “And you’re not laying a finger on (Name).”

“Dude what are you talking abou- AAIIIEEEEE!!!” A high-pitch scream, and Trevor was throwing himself out of the way of a blast of blue. He scrambled away and back onto his feet. “Yo, dude, what’s going on?!”

“Oh, don’t play dumb!” Douxie said. “You can’t fool me, charmling!” Douxie crossed his arms over his face then released, ropes of magic flinging out and wrapping around Trevor. He fell back onto the floor, writhing and whimpering. Strange that he wasn’t putting up much a fight...

“Go on, then!” Douxie said, his magic poised for another attack. “Reveal your true self!”

“Uh..uh..M-my name’s Trevor, I-I’m eighteen and I like puppies and I a-actually cheated on my math exam and I think emo guys are r-really cool and- Dude please don’t hurt me!!!” Trevor kept squirming, now shaking with melodramatic sobbing.

Alright, so things were starting to not add up but Douxie didn’t relent. “Me hurt you? You’re the one who wants to eat (Name)’s heart!”

“Huh?! Y-yo, I ain’t a cannibal man!” Trevor wailed. “I-I mean I bit my brother once b-but that was a long time ago but I wasn’t tryin’ to eat him!!”

Okay this...wasn’t supposed to happen. Douxie lowered his bracelet arm just a little bit, his hostility wavering.

“Then what was all that talk about a delicious heart?” He couldn’t relax just yet. “Didn’t you stay behind today to get (Name) alone?”

“What? Bro, (Name) told me if I stayed here until midnight I would get extra brownie points for Granny’s Baking House!” His terror suspended for a moment, Trevor struggled and somehow managed to fish his phone out of his pocket, showing to the screen to Douxie. Sure enough, a cartoonish grandma in a fluffy apron and a pair of pink oven mitts was smiling warmly back at him, a window full of pastries on display behind her. The screen then flickered to a picture of the same grandma clad in armor, brandishing a pie at a three-headed dragon.

“Brownie...points?”

Trevor rolled his eyes at the apparent amateur Douxie was. “Uh, yeah. If you get five hundred brownie points, Granny gives you a heart-shaped cake! It’s the strongest cake in the game, man! And it even comes with a real life recipe. All I need is, like, fifty more points!”

“Heart...shaped...cake...”

Oh, fuzzbuckets.

“Dude, why do you keep, like, repeating my words?” Trevor sighed, leaning his head back against the floor. “Yeah, but then (Name) was gonna walk home alone and like I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t go with her, ya know?” Then he reverted into a mocking tone. “Whatever, I bet this place wasn’t even going to give me that many brownies. Hardy-har-haaar!” And then he seemed to remember that he was still tied up. “U-uh, but for real, Emo Dude, I ain’t trying to steal your girl! L-like she’s cool but n-not really my type...”

Douxie felt his face go warm. “She’s not my girl, she’s my...” His smacked his hand against his forehead. “Ugh, blast it all...” How had it come to this?

With a wave of his hand, Douxie released Trevor from the binds. Trevor rose nervously to his feet. Douxie sagged his shoulders, feeling bad.

And really, really stupid.

“Well...This was clearly a misunderstanding. My apologies, Trevor.” Douxie willed the lights to turn back on and the doors to unlock. You hurried inside, having watched the whole thing.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking back and forth between the two. “Is...everything good?”

“Yo, are you, like, a magician?” Trevor asked, awestruck as Douxie punched in a spell on his bracelet. “How’d you do all of that-”

“Interminus nocti slumberso.” A blue mist blew out of Douxie’s hands and onto Trevor’s face, instantly knocking him out cold onto the couch. You were about to protest, but then it didn’t take you long to figure out what must’ve happened. So you stayed silent, somewhere between relief, wanting to laugh, and wanting to give Douxie a hug (though, you were always down for the latter).

He and you listened to Trevor’s snoring for several seconds before looking at each other.

Looking at you standing beside him after so long, having nothing to do with schoolwork or Trevor, the void the last two weeks without you left was even more apparent.

Douxie was so glad to see you. To just be with you.

“I...messed up,” was all he could say, his eyes downcast.

You breathed a chuckle through your nose. “It’s okay. I’m quite glad my heart is safe and not at risk of being eaten by a monster.” You gestured to Trevor. “And that this guy will probably think it was all a dream.”

Douxie groaned, sinking down into the nearest chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he murmured. “Ah, fuzzbuckets....”

“What do you mean?”

“I just...I don’t know. I had such a bad feeling about him.” Douxie flicked a hand towards Trevor, who was now curled in a fetal position and murmuring something about pancakes. “And he was always around you so I figured you were in trouble somehow but...”

Your eyes widened and your heartbeat started to pick up. “Were you...upset? That he was always around me?”

Upset? Douxie stared back at you. He hadn’t known for the longest now what to call what he’d been feeling every time Trevor made you laugh. Every time you mentioned how smart and funny he was. Every time Douxie knew you were at the library with him. Every time he was right behind you coming into Benoit’s. All of a sudden for two weeks you’d been sparse in Douxie’s life, instead occupied with...someone else. Some other...

Douxie looked away, hiding his face. “I guess I was a little upset.” He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I’ve missed you, (Name), and seeing you with Trevor all the time and hardly being able to talk you was just...I suppose I felt...”

“...Jealous?” The word slipped before you realized it. Now that you had, your face went scarlet and your body felt fuzzy because could Douxie really feel jealous over you? Did he long for your attention like you longed for his? But then the surprised and contemplating look on Douxie’s face had you scrambling to recover because that just couldn’t be the case and so not that sort of jealousy.

“Uh, I-I mean...maybe not jealous. Some people just give off a vibe, you know? You don’t always click with everyone. Trevor didn’t seem to really like you either and -”

“(Name).” Douxie was smiling at you. Then he got up and threw an arm around your shoulders, leaning his cheek on top of your head. “No...I think you’re right. I guess...I didn’t want him to steal you away from m...from us.” He looked down at you. “You didn’t find him too charming, did you?”

How could Douxie ask you that when he was holding you and grinning at you like that? If only you could tell Douxie that no one compared to him in your eyes. That no one shined brighter than your beloved wizard.

“Not in the slightest,” you said, your cheeks pink. “I missed you...you guys like crazy, too.” You leaned your head against Douxie’s shoulder. “No one’s stealing me. You guys are my...” What were you saying? Think, think, think. “My favorites!” You looked up and smiled awkwardly. “You guys are my absolute favorites. And you’re my favorite b- er...guy...friend! My favorite, best guy friend ever.”

Douxie stared down at you for several seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter muffled into his fist. It put you in a trance because you rarely saw Douxie laugh but it was one of the greatest things in the world. It was so lovely you forgot to feel embarrassed.

“Well that’s good to hear,” Douxie said. His eyes went all gentle, so your insides turned to goo. “You’re also my favorite, (Name).” Douxie took in your soft, kind eyes gazing up at him. Your slightly parted lips. Your rosy cheeks. Every time without fail, it sent warmth like a candle blooming in his chest.

Precious.

“I passed everything!” you exclaimed as you burst through the doors of Arcane Books. You gave Douxie a walloping high-five and flopped across the counter, thoroughly done with school. “One more week and I’m graduating, can you believe it?”

“Congratulations,” Douxie said, ruffling you hair. He finished organizing a stack of books onto a shelf before joining you at a table. “How was Trevor today?”

You shrugged with a grin. “Himself. Going on about how eating too much spinach gives you ‘wicked dreams.’”

“We’ll let him have that one.” Douxie smiled. “It’s good to have you back, (Name).”

Douxie sitting across from you with a backdrop of bookshelves and gothic decorations. It filled your heart.

“Glad I can be back.” You stretched out across the table before folding your arms under you and closing your eyes. Unable to see Douxie’s face. How truly happy he was.

You were here with him.

You were with each other.

Favorites.

#HOLY FUZZBUCKETS GUYS THIS TOOK SO MUCH OUT OF ME TO WRITE #You know how difficult it is to write someone who's jealous over someone they don't know they've got the feels for yet??? IT'S HARD #Reader is sweet and endearing #that's why Douxie wuvs you #But alas #my Oblivious Doorknob Douxie headcanon still stands :'D #Trevor ended up being a discount Steve lol #Jungle Juice was an actual drink I learned how to make at my first job #made with spinach!#Zoe is never having it with Douxie I swear #Douxie x Reader #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa zoe #toa archie #tales of arcadia #toa wizards #slow burn #friendship jealousy's a thing but we got the feels here #hope Douxie didn't turn out super OC in this #I really considered how he would act and what he would say #rika writes #rika tries to write #myart #rika tries to draw #still fun tho

45 notes · View notes

skullrock · 4 years

Text

the campers, chapter two - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

chapter two: the trainee

series summary:Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: Steve gets in the swing of things quickly, much to your dismay.

warnings: swearing!

word count: 2.7k

a/n: you can catch up on the series here! hope you enjoy this chapter!

===

Dustin and Steve are luckily paired into the same cabin, but they have different rooms. Steve’s roommate isn’t in when he goes to drop off his things, but Dustin assures that the man, Nico, is a cool dude.

“Not as cool as you though, Steve,” Dustin says, giving him a firm pat on the back. Steve smiles slightly and nods, appreciating the sentiment. Especially after being blasted by you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with you and Y/N?”

“No,” Steve says curtly, shutting and locking his room.

Dustin waits a few moments to see if Steve will fess up, but he doesn’t. Actually, Steve sets his jaw tightly, making Dustin even more curious. “I guess you guys don’t like each other, huh?”

“No,” Steve says again. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well - she doesn’t like me.”

“She knew you as Asshole Steve?”

Steve sighs heavily. “Yeah. She knew me as Asshole Steve.”

Dustin shrugs as they start to make their way to their orientations. “You’ll just have to show her how you changed, that’s all.”

Steve scoffs and shakes his head. “It doesn’t even matter.”

Dustin knows he doesn’t mean that, but he stops prodding for answers.

They continue their walk down from the cabins to the activity center, filled with classrooms, the cafeteria, and research labs. Steve enjoys the area already, happy to see the sun glistening off of the lake and the large hemlocks and oaks. The wind smells like pine and juniper, even in the summer, relaxing Steve’s mind. The woods do scare him now, there’s no denying that. But these aren’t the sinister woods behind his house in Hawkins. These woods are welcoming and cheery, bright and charming. Steve loves the open fields for archery and tag, the courts for basketball and tennis. He decides he’d really like to help out with the intramurals, giving up on the science aspect before even getting the chance to explore it.

Steve’s train of thought is derailed when he hears a sweet voice call out, “Dusty-bun?”

Dustin turns on his heel, a smile spreading widely across his face. He runs to meet her halfway, picking her up and twirling her. The girl laughs happily, and they kiss for a moment before Steve clears his throat. “Is this Suzie?”

“It’s Suzie,” Dustin says, sighly happily. “Suzie, this is Steve.”

She extends her hand and Steve takes it, surprised by how firm her grip is. She’s alright, Steve thinks. She’s got this Mormon vibe going on, but her smile is bright and her personality is welcoming. Steve’s happy to find out that Suzie is an actual person, and while she has no Phoebe Cates in her at all, she’s a perfect match for Dustin.

Steve third wheels as they continue to walk towards the activity center, again being pulled back to his thoughts. His mind falls on what you’d said earlier.

It feels like a rock sits in his gut when he thinks about camp when he was younger. He knows he was an asshole, he can feel it in his bones. He knows he hung out with Tommy H. and some other dickheads, and he has glimpses of memories of tripping, pushing, and pranking. But he really doesn’t remember a lot. He’s not sure if he’s from the concussions or because he willed those thoughts out of his memory - but they aren’t there. Only insignificant ones remain. Like how his bedsheets in his cabin were blue and red plaid; how he would wake up at 7:15 to take a walk before Tommy would wake up; he even remembers the bitter taste of the orange juice hitting his tongue at breakfast. It’s like his mind zeroed in on the insignificant things so that the hurtful memories stay in the back of his mind, sitting like a cobra, waiting to strike.

The trio arrives at the activity center.

“I’ll see you tonight, Steve,” Dustin says. “Don’t worry - you’ll do great.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve mumbles, anxiety twisting in his gut. “Nice to meet you, Suzie.”

She smiles brightly and starts off, but Dustin stays behind. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates, right?”

Steve forces a smile and nods, giving him a thumbs up. “You really did it, man.”

Dustin winks and walks away, leaving Steve alone and sweating bullets. He hates being alone - he can’t stand being by himself anymore. Especially now that he knows you’re on the loose here, probably plotting some sick pranks. But he forces himself to move his feet up to the orientation check in.

“Name?” a man with the nametag Josh asks.

“Uh, It’s Steve. Harrington.”

He gets his bundle - a nametag, a hat just like Dustin’s, a few lime green and yellow Camp Know Where shirts (reading LEADER on the back), a drawstring bag, some pens, and a notebook. Steve forces himself to not make a face at the shirt - it’s disgusting and it will certainly ruin his chances with the ladies. He’ll wear it - he’s just not happy about it. And, besides, the first girl he interacted with at camp nearly bit his head off, so maybe he shouldn’t be so worried about his chances. Maybe he should be worried about not fucking up this time.

He takes a seat in one of the large lecture halls, sitting as far away from everyone as possible. Nearly everyone who walks in waves at him and sits close, making Steve clench his fists and bounce his legs. He literally does not remember how to be social - it’s like a second language that he forgot. It pains him that he can’t strike up conversations like he used to, but those around him help.

“Hi, I’m Kara,” a girl his age says, sitting down right next to him. “Who are you?”

Steve blinks. “Oh - I’m Steve.”

She reaches out and shakes his hand, smiling. “You’re new, right?”

“Is it that easy to tell?”

Kara laughs. “Don’t worry, Steve - you’ll get the hang of the flow soon enough.”

Okay, maybe he does have a chance with some ladies.

You come into the room, eyes searching for Steve. You see your buddy Kara talking to him and you curse under your breath. She’s not supposed to be friends with him - she’s probably going to try to bone him in the next week, too, and you don’t want that either. You march up to Josh, the leader of leaders, and pull him down to your level. “You cannot - you will not - pair me with Steve Harrington.”

Josh’s brows furrow and he looks up at Steve, remembering him from earlier. “What, you scared of that dork?”

You groan and roll your eyes. “He was such an asshole to me - we used to go to camp together. He made my summers hell, Josh. I can’t be around him.”

Josh pauses and shrugs. “Okay, no problem, I’ll pair him with someone else.”

You sigh in relief and take a seat at the front, where a panel of veteran counselors sit. You try to be social, but the bile keeps rising from your stomach to your throat. You feel sick. You feel like this summer is going to be an absolute nightmare. And while you’re so far beyond who you used to be - that kid who couldn’t even look people in the eye - you’re scared that his presence will revert you back into that little girl. And it’s the last thing you want.

Josh claps his hands a while later, signalling the start of orientation. Steve shifts in his seat and pulls out his notebook and a pen. He doesn’t know shit about note taking, but he reckons he should try. You grab your notebook too, excited to learn and meet with the new folks.

“Welcome to Camp Know Where!” Josh says.

The room erupts in cheers and Steve can feel his old self creeping back in, the insult of dorks running through his head - as if he isn’t clearly one himself. But he composes himself, clapping lightly along with everyone else.

“Here at Camp Know Where, we want to create a welcoming, safe environment for our kids to explore the world through science, math, engineering, and technology.” Steve writes it down quickly, forming the acronym “SMET”, and giggling to himself.

“It’s our job as counselors to facilitate learning in a fun, positive, and energetic way. Through orientation, you’re going to meet your fellow counselors, learn some things, and find a designation at camp. We work with you! If you think you’d be better at doing science, we’ll help you find your place in the classroom. But if you’d like to work with intramurals, we can place you out in nature. However, we still want to make sure everyone has a good grasp at all activities, so you’ll be cycled through everything we have to offer at Camp Know Where.”

Steve writes down “science - intramurals - whatever - know it all.”

“Today, though, we’ll be doing some icebreakers, and then some brainstorming.”

The room erupts in groans, Steve’s perhaps being the loudest.

“Relax, they’re fun.” Josh beams and holds up a clipboard. “I’m going to split everyone off with a partner now. This will be your partner all through camp. You’ll do something with everyone, but your partner is like your mentor. The newer folks will be paired with someone who’s been here a while to help you get in the swing of things.”

You shift in your seat. Maybe you’ll make a new friend - maybe you’ll get along famously - it was an exciting concept.

Or, it is, until Josh calls out, “Y/N and Steve.”

The shit eating grin on his face is unimaginable. He looks down at you, smiling, eyes shining, as if to say, get over it. If you had a bat, you would have hit him with it. Your stomach sinks, it rolls, it twists. Your palms sweat, your head races, but it stays forward, eyes trained on the podium in front of you.

Steve feels the exact same, except his legs are telling him to get the hell out of there. He knows his protests will fall on deaf ears, and who would accommodate him, anyway? He rests his head in his hands as Josh continues to read off names.

“Alright, get with your partner. We’re going to play two truths and a lie!”

Phenomenal, you think. The worst icebreaker of all time, and it’s with Steve Harrington.

You push yourself up out of your seat and force your legs to move towards him, sitting down next to him but a chair away, keeping a distance. Steve’s okay with it - it actually helps him breathe.

The rest of the room fills with laughs and chatter, but you both stare in silence for a long while. Finally, Steve says, “So -”

“We aren’t friends,” you interrupt. “We aren’t friends now, we weren’t friends then, and in the future, we won’t be friends. Got it?”

Steve swallows hard and nods. Despite the dryness in his throat, he tries to apologize. “Look, I know I wasn’t nice when he were kids -”

You scoff. He continues. “But I swear to God, or whatever, I’ve changed. I’m not like that anymore. I - I don’t even hang out with Tommy. I just hang out with Dustin and this girl called Robin, you don’t know her - she’s pretty cool -”

“Save it,” you say harshly. “We can talk since it’s our job, but I don’t care about your life now, and I know you don’t care about mine.”

No icebreakers are played between you - the only thing played is an intense staring contest, which makes you angry and Steve horrified. Finally, Josh claps again, and then the real orientation begins. Josh hands out papers with scenarios on them, the goal being to brainstorm ways to demonstrate good leadership. Things like, a camper is obviously intoxicated - what do you do? and what’s the best way to improve a camper who isn’t doing well?

“Wait,” Steve says as Josh places the paper down. “Are we sw- switching partners?”

“Nope!” Josh says, popping the ‘p’. “Not yet.”

Steve wants to die.

To your surprise, Steve has some pretty phenomenal ideas for how to be a good leader. He even delves into how he would bond with the campers - he’d play sports with them, facilitate idea generating, become someone they can come to and confide in. He wouldn’t shut down their ideas, but rather help them expand on them. You think that he actually has some really good concepts.

“I just want them to trust me, you know?” he says quietly. “I want them to feel like they have a chance and that they can come to me for anything.”

You furrow your brows. “How’d you get these good ideas?”

“Dustin,” he admits, a bit sheepishly. “And some of his friends, too. They’ve helped me understand how to be better at listening and helping and understanding.”

You nod stiffly, not wanting to become too impressed with him. “Well, you have some solid ideas.”

Steve’s eyes widen and brighten. “You think?”

You shrug. “They’re not bad.”

And just like that, Steve feels like he has a purpose.

The room forms back together to go over their responses, and for the first time in his life, Steve offers his perspective in a public setting without being condescending or rude. The feeling of raising his hand was awkward and unknown, but he kept doing it, in love with the nods of support from the other counselors. Someone said he must have a knack for being a leader, and Steve beamed brighter than he had in months.

You, of course, hated it, but you had no authority to tell him to shut up. To you, it seemed fake and, frankly, out of nowhere. But you couldn’t help to agree with some of his points and ideas. You hated it.

You all break for the day at five. You practically run out of the room, gasping in the fresh air outside quickly. Josh walks past you and slaps your back, turning around to smile at you. “Have fun?”

“I will kill you.”

“Can’t wait!”

You’d lost your appetite after the hours spent with Steve, so you stay outside, sitting on a picnic bench and contemplating. You wonder if Steve is right when he says he’s changed. Past Steve would never say such things, would never even bother to put in an effort. But he was giving more of an effort than most people in that room, and it genuinely shocked you. Maybe Dustin had something to do with it - but that seemed improbable, too. The whole thing was so bizarre that it made your head spin and your knees weak.

You see Dustin heading inside and call out for him, beckoning him over. His brows furrow tightly but he walks over, sitting down across from you. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“What’s Steve’s deal?”

“Look, I hated him too,” Dustin says. “I mean, I really hated him. Like, I wanted to punch him -”

“I get it.”

“Right. But he’s changed. He got sober really fast a few years back and he hasn’t been the same since.” Dustin pauses, choosing his words carefully. “A lot of stuff has happened to him… and I think it’s changed him for the better. He’s been through a lot. He’s just trying to find himself now. That’s why he’s here.”

You sigh heavily. “You think he’s better?”

“I know he’s better.” Dustin smiles. “And that’s why I think you should give him a chance.”

“No way,” you scoff. “He never gave me a chance.”

“Shouldn’t stoop to past Steve’s level.” Dustin’s smile widens. “You’ll hurt your back.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t want this kid to be right, but you know he is.

“Just - give him a chance, please? He really deserves one. He’s my best friend… he deserves a shot.”

You sigh again. “Fine.”

===

taglist (join here!): @troop-scoop @therealestdookie @jasontoddisfantastical @mybestfriendthedingus @anonymousonion23 @darth-el @unknownherelm @random-thoughts-003 @metuel18 @dark-academics-and-florals @magicstrengthandcourage @mathchampagne @magnitude101999 @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @sunshine-and-riverwater @dark-academics-and-florals @scooprtroopr @heart-eye-harrington @sourapplebaby @comedy-witch

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things au #my fics #the campers

179 notes · View notes

stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years

Text

Girl Crush

Chuck Grant x OC (not exactly a happy ending, Floyd Talbert & Luz fluff tho)

She was absolutely beautiful. She drew the attention of everyone in the room, and rightfully so. She was radiant with confidence and charm. Her long, blonde hair quite literally looked like a halo and those perfect cupid bow lips were painted a sumptuous red. She was even wearing real, silky stockings. Where in the hell did she get those, Virginia thought. And of out of all the guys in the room why was she sitting with Chuck?

Sure, Chuck was handsome in that sturdy all-American way. But Virginia had a realistic view of her best friend; he wasn’t the most charming, nor the most outgoing or flirtatious. He was quiet, polite, and thoughtful. Those were some of the many wonderful things about him and reasons why Virginia knew she was falling in love with him. However, they weren’t traits that she thought a bombshell like Adrienne would have picked out of a crowd of dashing young soldiers.

Adrienne was the type of girl that George Luz or Skinny Sisk drooled over, the type of girl Floyd Talbert would sneak away to a corner of the bar.

Of course any guy would have love to have her on his arm, she was perfect. But Chuck was not the obvious choice.

Adrienne was like all the girls Virginia and Chuck had grown up around; California beauties that had never seemed to tempt Chuck before. Chuck wasn’t one to ogle girls on the beach or take them out in his car every weekend. Whenever he had had free time between school or work, he just hung out with Virginia and their other friends.

Their friend Mary got engaged the same month Chuck and the other guys enlisted. There was nothing in California for Virginia once all her friends left so she decided to join the Women’s Army Corp. as a switchboard operator.

Chuck had been so proud of her when she finally qualified. She had walked over to his house only days before he was due to ship out to show him her letter of certification. Right there in his yard, he had picked her up and spun her around.

“I’m so proud of you, Ginny! And now you’ll be able to come with me!”

Butterflies fluttered around her stomach, he wanted her to be with him. “We don’t know where I’ll be stationed or where you’ll be!”

“They have to put us together, I just know they will. I have a feeling.”

He had been wrong, then he had been right. Virginia worked her way up the eastern seaboard while Chuck trained in Georgia. Their letters were constant exchanges between good friends sharing the stresses and challenges of their burgeoning military careers.

Where do you think they’ll send you next?

North Carolina.

I’ve been in New York for a while now.

Big city girl.

Definitely not California.

Where will you go after the war?

California.

Me too.

What will you do after the war?

Wouldn’t it be nice to have a house by the beach?

Very.

We could get houses by each other.

Maybe.

I’ll get a good job, a nice wife, and you’ll find a nice guy.

I’ve already met lots of nice guys.

Not a husband though.

Virginia and Chuck had always been especially close, but Virginia had fallen in love with him through those letters. He was her home and her adventure all in one.

Eventually, he had been right. They were reunited on a troopship destined for England. They had been on the ship for a week before they realized.

I’m on a boat destined for England.

So am I!

The moment she received the letter with his shipment details she had run into the soldiers bunk room to whoops and hollers and shouts of “nurse!”.

“Charles Grant? Officer Grant?” she asked as she forced her way past men throwing baseballs and stretching. They all pointed her in the same direction until she reached his bunk.

“Ginny?” he dropped his cards in shock as she threw herself on his bunk.

“I can’t believe we’re on the same ship!” she squealed. He wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug.

A voice cleared above where they lay unceremoniously embracing, “who’s your friend there Grant?”

A handsome young man with dark brown eyes propped his arm against the steel pole of the bunk.

Virginia quickly got up from Chuck’s cot, smoothing her skirt. Chuck swung his legs around so he sat to face the new arrival.

“Floyd Talbert, meet Virginia Wilson.”

Floyd offered his hand, “nice to meet you.”

Floyd Talbert was a flirt and everyone knew it. But Virginia liked him a lot, they clicked from the very start, which made sense since he was a good friend of Chuck’s. Just like Chuck, Floyd was very polite, and always made a point of introducing his girlfriends to Virginia - at least the girls he would see more than once.

He would sneak down to the switchboard room to say hi or to the officers building where they would rendezvous for a cup of coffee. So would Chuck, and Virginia always looked forward to those surprise chats. Occasionally, Chuck and Virginia would find themselves on breaks at the same time and would go for walks around the base. The rolling English hills made them both homesick and it was nice to have each other to reminisce with.

Adrienne worked as an officers secretary and they would pass her every time they left the officers building. It didn’t occur to Virginia until later that every time Chuck came to see her, he would have passed Adrienne too.

On one autumn evening out, Chuck invited Virginia out to get drinks with him and some of his friends. She knew it wasn’t a date but she let herself get more excited than she should have. She gave herself extra time to bathe, to pin up her hair, and even took the time to apply red lipstick and to draw thin brown lines down the back of her legs. She had the army regulation stockings but the dark line down the back of her calves gave them a more alluring look.

“So who you dressing up for?” Floyd asked over his beer. He and Virginia were the only ones remaining at their table after Chuck got pulled into a game of darts.

Virginia flushed, “who say’s I’m dressing up for anyone?”

Floyd just looked at her, waiting for her to cave.

“I just wanted to look nice, I haven’t been out in a while.”

Floyd just nodded, his eyes searching hers before she broke eye contact.

“Ya know,” Floyd cleared his throat, “he’s been seeing Adrienne.”

The blood ran cold in Virginia’s veins. She knew exactly who he was talking about, but technically he hadn’t said who so maybe it wasn’t Chuck. She did her best to sound nonchalant, “who’s seeing Adrienne?”

“Your boy,” Floyd nodded his head at Chuck, “Chuckie.”

Virginia swallowed hard to keep the lump from growing in her throat, “that’s exciting!” and she did her best to sound excited.

Floyd shrugged, “sure.” He paused, “exciting for him I guess,” Floyd sighed.

If Virginia said anything else she would’ve broke, so she stayed silent. She took a sip of her beer to keep her eyes from welling up with tears.

Suddenly, Adrienne was thrust into her life. Adrienne was sweet and said hi to her every time they passed at work. She was out with them every time that Virginia joined the soldiers for drinks. All the guys loved her because there was nothing not to love! Adrienne was like their own personal movie star; a kind and busty blonde always dressed in a neat suit working for the officers.

At the bars it took all of Virginia’s power not to stare at Adrienne. Her fingers were long and thin, like a porcelain dolls. Somehow, her finger nails were always perfectly manicured with cherry red paint. Was that even regulation? Maybe the secretaries didn’t have to follow WAC standards. Virginia hadn’t painted her nails any color since she left California. The red looked so beautiful curled around the olive drab of Chuck’s arm. Every now and then Virginia would catch Chuck and Adrienne leaving the bar alone together. It was a punch to the stomach just imaging what they might be doing or where they might be going alone like that.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” Chuck confessed to her once on one of their walks. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings too much, he was always so mellow. Virginia knew that this confession was the rawest, most surface level expression of what he may actually be feeling.

“How long have you known her though, Chuck?” she asked gently.

“I know, not very long, I’m not rushing into anything,” he smiled his little half smile at her, “trust me.”

For the first time ever she didn’t trust him, not regarding Adrienne.

“Hey, drink,” Floyd placed a full beer in front of Virginia, breaking her out of her trance. He took a long drink of his own beer, surveying the room. He had yet to date any of the women in the bar at the moment, which was huge for him. This was his night to find someone new without breaking any hearts.

“Where’s Lucy?” Floyd asked.

“She’s up at the bar.” Virginia gestured to where her friend and co-worker was chatting with Buck Compton.

“Will you be good on your own here? If I socialize?” Floyd asked right as George Luz sat down.   “All good with George here!” Virginia reassured him.

“Good, ol’ dependable George,” George slurred slightly. However, things were not all good with George Luz, depending on who you asked, because the night quickly took another turn. While the company was divided between the dart board and flocking around Adrienne, George Luz bought Virginia shots of gin.

“Fuckin’ disgusting,” George shuddered as he threw down his third shot.

“I don’t know how they drink it,” Virginia added, recovering from her second.

“Okay, something to wash it down,” George gestured to the bartender.

They drank their beers at the bar and Virginia felt the warm, creeping feeling of the liquor start to take hold on her body.

George finished his beer, leaving only the froth at the bottom, “another?” he asked, his eyes only slightly crossed. Virginia nodded solemnly.

“No more of that gin shit. Two whiskeys neat barkeep!” The bartender raised a suspicious eyebrow at Luz but served them anyways.

“Much better,” Luz smacked his lips. Virginia’s head was spinning now.

“How we feelin’?” Luz asked her. Virginia allowed a wide grin to spread across her face.   “Feelin’ good, George.”  

She linked arms with George and they traipsed around the bar sloppily greeting friends. They interrupted a game of darts before slumping into a corner booth with Joe Liebgott, Popeye, and Lucy. But George and Virginia were in their own world. They sat cozied up chatting, dumb to the jovial world around them. That’s when Virginia found herself revealing everything to a very sympathetic George.

“I gotta girl like that too,” George sighed.

“Like what? Like Adrienne?”

“I wish,” George slumped in the booth, resting his cheek on Virginia’s shoulder, “nah I gotta girl who doesn’t notice me.”

“Chuck notices me,” Virginia pouted.

“Does he know you like him? Like love him like him?” George slurred.

Virginia considered this, “I don’t think I told him.”  “Ever?”  Virginia shook her head. That was a mistake, the world began to spin slightly. She sat up abruptly, trying to steady herself, and consequentially knocked George off her shoulder. Joe and Lucy eyed them cautiously.

The world settled again and Virginia leaned back into the worn leather of the booth. George shifted so that his legs were up on her lap and his head knocked against the corner of the booth.

“I think you should tell him.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just in case,” George encouraged her.

Virginia glanced over to where Adrienne sat next to Chuck, her hand on his thigh. The alcohol had made her weak. Virginia felt the tears begin to prick at her eyes.

“No, no no,” George caught her face in his hands, “no crying! Don’t cry, not unless you’re alone with the guy!”

Virginia sniffed and blinked her eyes rapidly, “okay, yeah, maybe I will say something to him.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll come with you.” George swung his legs off of her lap and they scooted out of the booth.

“Where are you guys goin’?” Joe called after them. George just waived his hand dismissively as he followed Virginia into the crowd towards Chuck.

Virginia reached Chuck with her heart thumping in her ears, this was it. She was going to tell him. But maybe she should do it in private? Would he come with her if she asked him for a private word? Or would he leave her standing there? Panic rose up in her just as Chuck noticed her presence.

“Hey, Ginny,” he smiled sweetly up at her. Virginia tried to focus on him but she was distracted by the redness of Adrienne’s full lips. The woman’s face swam in perfect lines of red and black and blonde in Virginia’s intoxicated vision.

“Chuck - I, could I -“ she stammered. She lost all focus at the sight of Adrienne.

“Are you drunk, Ginny?” Chuck chuckled good naturedly.

“No, kinda, maybe- but actually I wanted-“

“Hey Virginia, I need ya over here.” Virginia hadn’t even noticed Floyd arrive at her side until suddenly he had an arm wrapped around her waist. “Sorry Chuck, just gonna steal her real quick.” Floyd whisked her away, and Chuck didn’t even seem to notice that anything was off. He turned right back to talking to Adrienne.

“Hey sweetheart,” Floyd murmured, “come over here with me.” Floyd sat her down at the back of the bar next to a disgruntled looking young woman. He reappeared in seconds with a large glass of water which he made Virginia drink.

“Let’s get you home,” Floyd said. He helped Virginia into her coat and led her outdoors. The cool air and water helped to sober her up.

“Shouldn’t have left ya alone with Luz should I?” Floyd teased half-heartedly.

Virginia smiled, but the tears were coming again, “I’m sorry for ruining your night, Floyd.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” he put a comforting arm around her shoulders, “you don’t need to be sorry.”

“I just- with Chuck -“

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Floyd was quiet, the sound of gravel crunching beneath their feet filled their silence.

“I think you’re going to have to get over him, Virginia.”

Virginia let one tear drop down her cheek. It ran all the way down her face to the edge of her jaw, where it hung for a moment, before she wiped it away with a gloved hand. She nodded.

“You’re right.”

“I know it won’t be easy, but you’re tough. And you’ve got friends, including Chuck. He’ll always be your friend, and so will I. You’ve got me here until, and when, things are normal between you and Chuck again.”

Virginia smiled and the tears flowed hot down her cheeks. The tears were no longer sad, they were bittersweet. She slung her arm around Floyd’s waist and they continued down the quiet, dark English road back to base.

#hbowar #band of brothers #hbo band of brothers #fanfiction #charles grant #chuck grant x oc #getting drunk with george luz #george luz #floyd talbert #not just a man ho but a good friend too #one shot

14 notes · View notes

theonewiththefanfics · 5 years

Text

Not So Bad After All (one-shot)

Synopsys: When the Reader’s car won’t start and the only person around is Billy Hargrove, she’d rather let the Demogorgon take her out on a date. But when her crazy ex decides to roll around, having another person in her corner might not be that bad.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, but only like if you squint

Warnings: swearing, mentions of stalkerish behaviour, suggestive talk, but nothing much. If there’s anything else, please let me know :)

Word count: 3008

Summer nights in Hawkins were like a game of Russian roulette. They could be hot and sweltering, and to the point that you wanted to camp on the lake for some kind of relief from the heat, or they could be ruled by piercing winds, and temperatures that dropped below 50 degrees, despite the weather during the day being literal Hell. Fortunately for Y/N, it was the first one, as she had no harrowing want to go back to the community pool in barely there jean shorts, a bikini top and a loose Jaws t-shirt over her body. Working at the pool was a tradition at this point for her, and forgetting her bag with her driver’s license, wallet and house keys much the same. Letting out a frustrating huff, she opened the gate to the pool and strutted towards the women’s changing rooms, not acknowledging Billy Hargrove who had applied for the lifeguard job and had gotten it, becoming her partner. Sort of. They shared shifts, as there needed to be two lifeguards on spot at all times, but if Y/N was being honest, she’d rather share her time with a Demogorgon, than Billy. He was stuck up, thought he was better than everyone else, flirted mercilessly with anyone that would come up to him, had two boobs and a vagina between their legs. Not that she really cared, but when in the timespan he was offering Nancy Wheeler’s mom ‘private swimming lessons’, a kid had slipped and broken his nose and another one had twisted her ankle, Y/N was very much so over his bullshit.

Y/N groaned seeing as someone had left the women’s sauna door open, which meant all the heat had escaped into the showers, and she could only hope it hadn’t been left open cause Billy had wanted to have some fun with a girl. Sighing, Y/N peeked inside and crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t have to clean all that mess up, and it turned out luck was on her side, as everything seemed clean. Heather would still have to mop down the floors in the morning when her shift started, but that was not Y/N’s concern. As quick as possible, she closed the sauna door, placed a towel by the entrance to soak up the moisture on the tiles and rushed to get her stuff. She was starving by that point, and her dad had promised they’d be having a barbecue night. Just at the thought of food, her stomach released the loudest grumble ever. With her bag slung over her shoulder, Y/N pulled out her car keys from the back pocket of her shorts and gave Billy a small tight-lipped smile as he held the gate open for her before closing for the night. “You sure you got everything?” he asked, and she nodded. “If not, I’ll just get it tomorrow.” And that was it for their conversation. They weren’t enemies, but they certainly weren’t friends. Y/N hung out with Steve Harrington most of the time, and let’s just say Billy and him were not buddies. Besides, it’s not like Billy had expressed any interest in getting to know her, so why should she? She pulled back the hair that had stuck to her forehead from the humidity, and dropped her bag into the passenger seat, putting her foot onto the clutch and twisting the key. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she repeated the motion. Like before, the engine sputtered, rattled and did nothing. “Fucking, hell, are you kidding me?” Y/N muttered and slapped her hands against the wheel, stepping out of her car and sighing. “I just fixed you.” It was an old car, but it wasn’t ancient so it made no sense why it would be acting up. From the corner of her eye, she saw Billy approach, and Y/N rolled her eyes at the cigarette he dumped onto the ground and extinguished with his foot. “Need some help, sweetheart?” “I’d rather shove a spoon through my eye.” Billy let out a small snort and shook his head, the dirty blond curls that had stretched out a bit from the heat swishing along his forehead in soft waves. “Come on. I just want to help. I promise that’s all.” Y/N eyed him sceptically but relented in the end. Maybe she’d need his help and have him spark her car up. “But if your hands go somewhere, I can’t see, you’re dead.” “Noted, princess.” She rolled her eyes at the nickname, which seemed to be Billy’s favorite pastime, but nevertheless, Y/N opened her door and leaned to open the glove compartment where a flashlight resided. You never knew, when it could come in hand, and the lighting outside the pool’s parking lot wasn’t the best. “Pop the hood,” Billy said, and Y/N pressed the button on the inside, the hood obscuring her vision of her ex-classmate. “Your ignition cable’s gone,” he immediately announced. “What?” she rushed to his side, shining the light to where Billy was pointing at, and true to his words – the cable was gone. “Are you kidding me?” Y/N leaned closer but nope, the view didn’t change. The cable was really gone. Right then, the sound of a car engine rolling up next to them made the two look up. Even without glimpsing the shitty green paint job on the Mustang, Y/N would’ve recognized the car and the owner in a matter of seconds. “You’ve gotta be joking,” she mumbled glaring at the car that was approaching them as if she could see through the metal hood. Billy’s eyes flitted down to where Y/N was glaring a hole in her car. "Know who it is?" “That’s my insane ex-boyfriend. Ever since I broke up with him, which, mind you, was months ago, he’s been stalking me.” She slammed down the hood, and it would’ve made Billy flinch, had it not been for the overwhelming feeling of anger that started to course through his veins. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my car’s dead.” “The pool’s closed, amigo,” Billy called out to the boy who stepped out from his car. The Californian would never admit, but he’d grown really attached to Y/N. He didn’t show it, nor did it seem like she noticed one bit, but he always kept out an eye for her. Whenever she was the one on closing duty, he lingered around under the guise of trying to hook up with a girl in his car, but in truth, it was to see if she got to her own vehicle safely. He always made sure Y/N took her lunch breaks and wasn’t in the direct heat of the sun for too long. There had been one time she’d passed out in the girl’s locker room, according to Heather, after having basically worked a double shift, and Billy’s protectiveness just grew. He'd even given half of his sandwich when the only thing Y/N had had time to pack before rushing for her shift had been an apple. “Y/N,” the dark-haired boy’s tone had the fake-shocked note to it. “I didn’t expect to see you here… is everything alright?” She crossed her arms and popped her hip out. “It was. Until you showed up and completely ruined my evening.” “That’s a bit mean, isn’t’ it?” the guy chuckled, and pretty much simultaneously both Y/N’s and Billy’s jaws clenched. Hers because Derek was the last person on her list of people she wanted to see, Billy’s cause he could instantly tell what a disgusting slime ball he was. “We’re alright here,” the blond answered and puffed up his chest a bit if only to make it clear Y/N didn’t need his help and neither wanted him there. “And again – the pool is closed. So, piss off.” Derek scoffed. “Yeah, I wasn’t talking to you, Hargrove. I was talking to the lady here.” “Well I don’t think she wants to talk to you,” Billy sneered in response and looked over at Y/N who was just looking at Derek. For the first time ever, he was glad her eyes were not on him. Whenever he caught her glancing his way, his heart sped up in excitement, but now... if looks could kill, Billy was sure Derek would be twenty feet under. “I think she can talk for herself, right, lovie?” And Derek got what he wanted – a reaction out of her. Y/N hated that nickname, had always despised it, but it took two to play a game. “Car trouble,” she said and slowly walked closer to Derek and coincidentally, but not really so coincidentally, her trunk. “Couldn’t start it, and Billy here offered his help.” “You know that you can always ask me for help, right?” Derek’s tone was softer now but held an edge to it as he eyed Billy. “We might not be together, but I still care about you. Unlike the slut of the town who probably just wants to get in your pants.” “Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Y/N smiled at the ground, and it made Billy’s heart clench. He knew he had a reputation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t genuinely care for her. Though when she pulled out a baseball bat, her grip tight around the handle, his mood shifted. “But there’s caring about someone,” she said, “and then there’s your absolute psycho behavior.” “Y-Y/N?” Derek stuttered, and Billy crossed his arms with a smug look on his face. “See here’s the thing, Billy boy here said that my ignition cable’s gone, which is funny, cause I was at the pool for barely five minutes,” she tossed the bat from one hand to the other before flipping it in her palm. “And less than two minutes after I’m in a little bit of trouble, you,” she pointed at Derek with the bat, “show up. And if you think I believe in coincidences such as this, you’re dead wrong.” Derek bristled, and Y/N smiled seeing a muscle in his jaw tick, especially when Billy went to tower behind the other guy’s back. “You can’t be serious and think that I'd do something to your car? This is ridiculous.” “Then you wouldn’t mind me searching your Mustang?” She pointed with the bat at the window. From the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Billy’s lips pull up in a smirk. She’d be lying if the thought of having him on her side wasn’t a soothing one. Derek’s eyes widened at the sight, and he gulped when she gently slid the piece of wood across his back window. “You wouldn’t mind me taking a look, would you?” Y/N repeated in a way too sweet of a tone. “You’re crazy,” he said, making her eyes darken. “Fine. Then I guess I just have to make myself fit that label,” she sneered and swung the bat back. Just as it was about to reach the window, Derek screamed, ‘alright, fine!’ His chest was heaving up and down, but Y/N could see how his fists clenched and unclenched. “Do whatever the fuck you want.” In mock gratitude, Y/N put a hand against her chest. “Thank you.” Her eyes flitted to Billy. “Would you mind keeping an eye on him?” The Californian’s grin widened, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “Not at all, princess. Take as much time as you need.” But Y/N only had to look for three minutes, before she remembered that under the backseats, there was a compartment Derek had made to stash his weed, fearing his parents might find it if he hid it in his room, so with a little bit of prying and almost breaking off a nail, Y/N opened the little compartment and was greeted by a greasy tube sticking out from it. “Oh, Billy, would you look at that!” Y/N exclaimed not surprised at all as she threw the boy the cable. “I think we found the hidden treasure.” “Well, I think you need to change professions from a lifeguard and become an archaeologist, miss Indiana Jones.” “Exactly my thoughts,” but her sarcastic reply was not filled with any humor at all. “Listen here, you absolute psycho,” Y/N growled as she moved closer, grip tightening around her bat. “If I even smell you anywhere near me, your ass is dead. Got it? I broke up with you cause you were a piece of shit, but I wanted to remain civil. Though, now, it seems like it’s not possible.” But as much as Derek was scared, ‘cause he knew Y/N never made threats only promises, he still wouldn’t see the error of his ways. “Come on, darling. I just miss you. Why don’t we go grab a bite and talk everything out? Let’s not let this dent our relationship…” “Dent,” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “The only dent that I’ll ever acknowledge, cause there’s no relationship between us, is the dent in your car.” Simultaneously as Derek yelled ‘what?!’ Y/N swung back the bat and let it connect with the passenger door. “You bitch! What are you doing you psychopath?!” her ex screamed as his hands went to tangle in his hair. “I’ll make you pay for that, just you wait!” “Go on,” she smirked heaving in a breath after she left another dent on the side, “tell your daddy and mommy your crazy ex busted up your car. And I’ll tell Hopper how you’ve been parked outside of my house for the past three months trying to spy on me. Or how about the times you've followed me with your car? Who do you think he’ll believe – me, someone with evidence – or you – a bitter boy who just can’t get over a girl that doesn’t want him?” Derek’s eyes widened in fear. “What evidence?” Y/N scoffed and crossed her arms. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you lurking outside my house and not do anything about it? I know how people treat women, that whenever they say something it’s because they’re crazed bitches. So,” she smiled smugly, “I had my parents install a security system with cameras. And your license plate shines brightly under those streetlights. Oh, and how could I forget our star witness tonight. Billy, sweetheart, if I went to Hop and told him about everything, would you mind corroborating the story? You know, how I came here to get my stuff, how I couldn’t start my car and we found out my ignition cable was gone. Not to even mention, how it turned up in the back of Derek's car here?” “Of course not, princess,” he smiled mimicking Y/N’s position. “It would be an absolute honor.” “You’ll never get into her pants,” Derek sneered at the other guy, trying to strike a chord, “in three years she didn’t put out once.” “Trust me,” came Y/N’s immediate reply. “Billy has more chance of getting with me than you ever had or will. Now stay away from me, or it’ll end uglier than it started.” Derek swung open his door and hopped in his car, sneering out a ‘you’ll regret this, you bitch’, before driving away into the night. “Gotta say, Y/L/N,” Billy smirked and helped reinstall the cables to her car, “I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared and aroused at the same time.” “Busting up a car makes you hard?” she let out a genuine laugh sitting down into the driver’s seat and turning the key, fist-bumping the air as her car roared back to life. “No, but a girl not taking anyone’s bullshit might,” the look on his face was the pure embodiment of what she thought of Billy, of his womanizing ways, and Y/N rolled her eyes. “If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been taking your bullshit either.” He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before answering completely honestly. “Then why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to make you like me?” Her jaw practically slammed through the car floor, because when Y/N’s eyes met his, there was not a single trace of him lying or scheming something up. This was Billy without his bravado, asking out a girl he had actual feelings for, and hoping that she wouldn’t break his heart too much. “What are you doing this Friday?” Y/N asked both hands on the wheel to have something to hold on instead of fidget with her fingers. For a second, he was stunned but quickly regained his composure. “Dunno,” Billy smirked, “have any ideas?” Y/N shrugged but didn’t hide the smile that blossomed on her lips. “They’re still showing Day of the Dead. Wanna go and watch?” He seemed to contemplate her proposal but then shook his head. “Can’t,” he chuckled. “I’m taking this smokin'-hot chick on a date tomorrow morning, so hopefully on Friday it’ll be our third one.” But his face had this huge grin on that made her frown in confusion. “Then why did you say you don’t know?” “Cause first I have to take you out for breakfast.” “What?” her eyebrows scrunched up and she let out a small laugh. Billy pointed at her before hopping into his Camaro, rolling down the passenger side window and stating, “10 AM. Benny’s. Be ready or I’ll leave without you.” With that, he revved up his beloved blue baby and reversed out from the parking lot. What she didn’t see was how he smiled all the way back to his house even doing a little dance as he walked up the steps. What he didn’t see was how she squealed in excitement and hugged both her parents when she got home so hard they thought they’d pass out. “What’s up with you?” Y/N’s father laughed seeing his daughter so over the moon that he had to look at her mom with a raised eyebrow. “Nothing,” she shook her. “I’m just… happy.” Luckily they didn't question her any further, and just let her smile as widely as her cheeks would allow. Maybe the bad boy of Hawkins wasn’t that bad after all.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Billy Hargrove’s tag list: @la-reina-tigresa @youcanstandundermyumbrella

A/N: thought I’d get something else up as well for Billy :)

3K notes · View notes

casper-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

I Think I’m In Love

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921265

Summary: Virgil falls for Roman, and the realization hits him pretty hard. But... It's not a scary realization, like he thought it would be.

In which I'm five days late for Virgil's birthday, but here's his birthday fic that got way out of hand. I went into this expecting like no plot and Virgil simply thinking about how gay he is for Roman and then Roman refused to be ignored and it just kind of went from there. I've dedicated this to Max ( @max-is-tired) cause honestly? They've helped me get out of my writing funk lately and also they've been super excited for me to finish it since I sprung the idea for the fic on them in the first place lmao.

It wasn’t exactly a soft realization, when Virgil had it. It wasn’t like Patton telling him he loved him so much, and that he wouldn’t know what to do without his friendship. It wasn’t like Logan handing him a book on something Virgil was really interested in, wanting to discuss it with him and Virgil figuring out that was Logan telling him that he loved him like a brother. Nothing with Remus was soft, but realizing Virgil cared about him, too, wasn’t nearly as jarring as this.

Honestly, realizing how much he loved each of his friends never hit Virgil quite as hard as it did when he realized he was in love with one Roman Grimm. It was like a bag of bricks dropped from a few feet straight onto his chest.

Virgil had come up with a particularly creative insult and it had left Roman keeled over, wheezing so hard all that was escaping his mouth was high pitched noises, not a breath of air between them. He’d crossed his arms in triumph, feeling like he’d won that days bickering.

It took him all of ten seconds before he realized his expression wasn’t the smirk he’d been going for, but an overly sappy, love-filled smile at Roman’s laughter. And that’s when the bricks dropped and all air rushed out of his lungs, his eyes widening as he watched Roman gather himself.

He… didn’t run. Didn’t even consider it before Roman had recovered, made a comment that prompted Virgil into a response that sent him cackling again. While the conversation continues, Virgil thinks.

He thinks about his last venture into the dating world, and how it ended in such a massive disaster that he did his best to jade himself to feeling like that again, because what’s the point of butterflies when they’re only going to rip through your heart on their way out?

But… being around Roman doesn’t give him butterflies. Strangely enough, Virgil feels like he’s the one with wings, when he’s with the flamboyant actor. Being with Roman makes Virgil feel like he could do anything he wanted to, so long as he had him by his side. Doesn’t matter that they’d be bickering and insulting each other the entire journey. If anything, that’d make Virgil feel more confident that he can actually pull it off, whatever it was he decided to do that day.

And honestly, now that he’s thinking about it, Virgil gets kind of reckless when he and Roman are in the same vicinity. Dee has even pointed out to him before a venture into an abandoned amusement park to go ghost hunting that Roman had an easier time convincing Virgil to do something stupid and kind of dangerous than Patton did trying to get him to sleep.

Virgil had, naturally, told him to shove that stick in his ass down his own throat. He may be spending a little too much time with Roman’s brother, if he was being honest with himself. Dee had only scoffed, rolling his eyes before letting Virgil leave the house to meet up with an eccentric blond.

That venture into the old, rusty amusement park was one of the best nights of Virgil’s life, if he didn’t count being almost crushed to death under an unsteady beam in one of the haunted houses. He and Roman had so much fun getting scared shitless by every creak and groan of the old rides. The funhouse mirrors had sent Virgil into laughing fits when every single one somehow only showed Roman as his normal self while he himself got the different appearances.

Thinking back on it, there was definitely a ghost fucking with them that entire adventure, but Virgil was having too much fun exchanging witty insults with Roman to really care. He’d had fun, and really wasn’t that something? Cause Virgil… Virgil didn’t have fun. He mildly enjoyed things while anxiety tickled the back of his mind, making him overthink every single action that was a result of him not thinking enough. The anxiety faded, the longer he knew the people he hung out with regularly, but it never really went away long enough for him to forget it was there until something that needed it happened.

Virgil was about to start thinking about how Roman managed to get him out from under the old rotting wood of a support beam before the haunted house got worse when Roman himself interrupted his thinking.

“Virgil. Vee. V-Man. Very Unimportant. Walking Existential Crisis. Vladimir--”

“Roman if you finish equating to me to the president of Russia, your face will no longer be as pretty as you think it is,” Virgil interrupted, his eyes finally focusing back on Roman’s expression. Which was filled with a confused concern.

Oh shit, did he space out?

“Well sorry, you stopped responding to me for a minute there, and your face went from all “Roman is a dumbass” smirk to some kind of mushy, gooey grin.”

Virgil scrunched up his nose in disgust at the comparison.

“Ew. Don’t ever call me mushy or gooey again, and I’ll let you live.”

Roman snorted, rolling his eyes at Virgil’s false disgust of all things soft.

Which, rude. Virgil had a reputation, he couldn’t just let himself be called mushy. What would his pretend fans think!

“I’d like to see you try and kill me, Very Short. You can’t even reach my shoulders without my assistance, you think you can aim for my heart from all the way down there?”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed while Roman’s grin widened, turning into a challenge.

There was exactly two beats of silence before Roman bolted for the door, Virgil chasing after him.

Virgil stops thinking about his feelings after that, stops thinking beyond strategy to capture Roman and somehow give him the biggest noogie of his life for daring to bring up Virgil’s height.

And it just kind of… continues. Virgil feels comfortable around Roman in a way he hadn’t before, despite Virgil never thinking he was ever uncomfortable around him prior to his revelation. Maybe it’s because he’s aware of the feelings now, and he recognizes his actions for what they are; pure, genuine affection and romantic attraction.

Over the next few weeks, Virgil can’t help but test the waters a little bit. He starts flirting back when Roman sends him some stupid pick up line he thinks is funny. Several times they’ve gone for hours, trying out-flirt each other and many times Virgil has won because Roman can’t let go of the overly ridiculous lines that focus on sex and Virgil is actually flirting so Roman eventually gets too flustered to continue.

Along with the flirting he gets… a lot more touchy. It’s not exactly subtle, nor is it obvious the touching is another result of his discovery, considering it’s really just Virgil letting himself rise to a lot of the bait Roman lays out for a playful fight. Patton definitely notices though, and the conversation that leads to is awkward at best, mortifying at worse.

And no, he doesn’t really feel like recounting that event in his memories.

It’s two days before his birthday when his brother and Roman’s brother trap him in Dee’s room with them to confront him.

“You know, you could’ve just asked to talk to me in private instead of hooking your arms around mine to drag me in here,” Virgil comments after flopping on his back on the carpeted floor beneath him. Dee and Remus had both taken advantage of their heights, and Virgil hadn’t really been able to keep his feet under him so when they let him go he’d fallen on his ass and who was he to pass up the opportunity to lay down?

“Yes, but that wasn’t nearly as much fun as dragging you in here like we were going to torture you for information!”

Virgil huffs a breath of air, trying to get his bangs out of his eyes enough so he could give Remus a curious look.

“Okay, and why are you torturing me for information?”

Dee cuts in, then. “Because you’re so open with us, Virgil.”

Virgil narrows his eyes in a glare at his older brother.

“You’re point, Monty the Python?”

Dee rolls his eyes at the nickname, crossing his arms.

“Our point, V-Section, is that you’re acting weird around my brother and he may not have noticed but we have,” Remus butts in with an irritated huff.

Virgil blinks, staring at his brother’s best friend for a solid thirty seconds before he speaks up.

“Was that… Did you just call me a C-Section but with the first letter of my name?” he asks, utterly bewildered. Usually Remus was a lot gorier or NSFW with his nicknames for others, and he didn’t usually relate their name back to it like Roman did.

“Did you really just totally ignore everything Remus said after that?” Dee asked, exasperated with the thing Virgil chose to focus on rather than the important part.

Virgil shrugged, shifting his feet so his knees were in the air and bringing his hands to rest on his stomach.

“I mean, yeah? It’s not like I’m really trying to keep my actions a secret, guys. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t say anything sooner? It’s been, what, two months since I actually started flirting with him?”

Dee blinks in surprise at Virgil’s admission.

“...That’s it? You’re not going to fight us on this?” he asks, skeptical of how easy Virgil was taking this. He was quite literally taking it lying down.

“Yeah? Why would I fight you on this?” Virgil asked, raising his torso up on his elbows to better stare at them in confusion.

Genuine confusion.

Jesus Christ.

“Probably because when you dated Chris and he criticized literally everything you did and liked you broke down after he dumped you and told everyone you wouldn’t let yourself interact with romance again?” Remus said, confused by Virgil’s confusion.

“Ah. That. Well, it’s whatever. In the past, literally years ago at this point. Why should I let it bother me now?”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Was Dee’s immediate response, panic that was almost genuine ringing clear through his words.

Sighing, Virgil flopped back onto the ground, ignoring the slight burning on his elbows from sliding them against the carpet. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, arms spread wide and knees knocking together as he thought (he’d been doing so much thinking lately).

“I know, not exactly something you’d expect me to say, as someone with generalized and social anxiety disorders. But… I don’t like Roman, the way I liked Chris. With Chris, things were fast but they felt kind of forced after a while. I mean yeah, it was fun making fun of people with him, but he didn’t exactly stop at other people, or even me. He criticized himself, and I felt a kinship in that, I guess. I felt like he’d relate to me on my worse nights. I dated him more because I thought he’d understand the feelings because he went through them too.”

Remus and Dee looked at each other as Virgil trailed off, obviously lost in thought. They let the silence go for a minute before Remus got impatient.

“Okay, then how is my brother different than Crucifixion?” he asked, impulsively grabbing one of Dee’s hands to play with his fingers see how long he could squeeze them together before he pulled his hand away.

Virgil still didn’t look at them, instead choosing to smile softly at the ceiling and wow, if that wasn’t a strange look to see on his brother.

“With Roman it’s like… it’s like coming home after a long day of bullshit. It’s a huge relief, I get to unwind from my stress by focusing on something else that I enjoy exponentially more than talking to other people. Instead of overly stressing about how someone reacted to this action, or what to say next to avoid pissing people off, I get to focus on just being in the moment and enjoying myself. It just… feels like home, loving him.”

“Well, slap my ass and call my Lucifer, cause hell must have just frozen over,” Remus says, making Virgil freeze as what he just said sinks in.

“Well. Guess that answers that question, then,” Dee comments, finally pulling his hand away when Remus scrunches his hand in a way that shoots pain through the back of it, making Remus grin at him.

Virgil makes a noise, but Dee can’t really identify what it is, now that Virgil has covered his face with his hands. Granted, that really does nothing to obscure the way his neck and ears have turned red, and if Dee guessed, his face was probably just as bad.

“Remus, I think we should let Virgil stew in his words by himself now.”

Remus perks at that. “Oh! Can we go to the creek? I think I saw a dead squirrel there yesterday and I wanna see how much it’s decomposed.”

Dee sighed, but nodded, turning away from his brother as his best friend bounded out of the room in excitement.

Virgil let out a groan as he listened to Dee and Remus leave, noting the lack of the door clicking shut. Guess it was left open then, probably to urge Virgil out of Dee’s room faster.

Well… he may as well accept that he just admitted Out Loud to his brother and friend that he was in love with Roman. Not like it was information he didn’t already know, he just… hadn’t really anticipated telling them it was something beyond a stupid crush.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil uncovered his face and made quick work of getting himself off the floor so he could actually go chill out in his room like he’d been planning to do before he was ambushed outside of the bathroom.

Honestly, Virgil really shouldn’t have expected Dee and Remus leaving him alone after his admission would mean they would just leave him alone about the topic altogether. Especially now that it was his birthday, and Roman was coming over in five minutes and Remus was giving him a wide unsettling grin.

Usually, that wouldn’t mean anything. Except it was paired with Dee’s self-satisfied smirk as he swung his keys around his finger to entertain himself while he waited.

Virgil glared at the two of them from his spot on the kitchen counter (he’s gay and has anxiety, you couldn’t pay him to sit properly on a chair. Or in a chair regardless).

“What are you two up to? I swear to God, if it’s a surprise party, I will skin you both,” Virgil hisses.

Remus goes to respond, fully prepared to get into a competition with Virgil on who can come up with more creative threats, but Roman bursts in at that exact second, and Virgil slinks off the counter to go meet him at the door, shooting Dee another harsh glare over his shoulder.

“I’m here, Charlotte’s Web!”

Virgil couldn’t help the small smile that formed at the classic nickname, shaking his head as he stopped in the doorway leading in and out of the kitchen.

“Hey, Caesar Salad,” Virgil greeted, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket and forcing his smile into a more lopsided smirk as Roman looked up at him.

Roman paused for a second, staring at Virgil like he’d just seen something he hadn’t before, making Virgil quirk a brow in question. Instead of an explanation, Roman just cleared his throat and finished maneuvering a large brown paper bag through the gap between his leg and the doorframe.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked, stepping forward to help Roman out by grabbing the thing he wasn’t struggling with--his jacket.

Roman glared at Virgil, who only smirked in response before huffing as he managed to get the bag through without ripping it.

“You’re birthday present if you must know, Gerard Gay.”

Roman was rewarded with a snort as Virgil turned back into the kitchen, gesturing for Roman to follow with a wave of his hand.

Entering the kitchen, Roman let out a long groan.

“Remus, what are you and Rumplesnakeskin doing here?”

“I live here, Roman,” Dee responded before Remus could, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but you’re never here when I’m here, and if you are, you always make a quick getaway. You’re up to something, Jafaar, and I don’t like it.”

Virgil couldn’t help but agree with Roman, going back to glaring at the two as he hopped back up on the counter to get comfortable.

“Plus, you both have been giving me your evil plotting smiles all morning.”

Roman shuttered. “Oh yeah, something’s definitely up. Spit it out Dr. Gloom and William Snakespere. What foul deeds are you planning today?”

Remus snorts at that, pulling a recorder out of his pocket. One of those old handheld ones you see in movies when the main character needs proof of something that was said. Something he must have gotten from Logan.

Something he probably had two days ago.

Virgil froze, eyes zeroing in on the recorder. The next thing he knew, he was launching himself off the counter in Remus’ direction, reaching for the device in hopes of either grabbing it or making Remus drop it so it’d break on the ground.

Neither of those things happened, considering Remus seemed to anticipate Virgil’s reaction as he gave a gleeful squeal, leaping onto the table and holding the recorder high above his head, out of Virgil’s reach.

Virgil had no qualms getting on the table, but before he could, Dee stopped him.

“Virgil, that table can only handle so much weight, do you really want to incur both of our moms’ wrath by breaking the table when we’re only visiting?”

Roman watched as Virgil was clearly panicking at the fact that Remus had a recorder in his hand, gaze switching between Remus and Dee and Virgil as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, other than the fact you guys have recorded something Virgil clearly doesn’t want me to hear, but I’d honestly really rather you didn’t force him into sharing something he’s not ready to share yet,” Roman said, crossing his arms after dropping the bag on the floor.

Remus let out a loud whine at that. “C’mon, Roman! I thought you’d be curious to know what we’ve found out.”

Roman shrugged at that, looking to Virgil, who was currently staring at him with wide eyes. He met the look with a small smile.

“Yeah, of course I’m curious. You guys know I hate being left out of the loop, but Virgil doesn’t want me to know right now. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll never want me to know. And even if it does, I’ll respect that. My curiosity is not an excuse to betray his trust like that.”

“I love you.”

Roman blinked in shock at the words that suddenly left Virgil’s mouth, and if the surprise on Virgil’s face was anything to go by, Virgil hadn’t expected to say them either.

Silence filled the kitchen for a few minutes before Remus let out a resigned sigh.

“Well that just took all the fun out of this. Dee let’s go to the park so I can scare some kids.”

Dee shook his head at his best friend as he hopped off the table.

“We’re not scaring children again, Rem. The last time we nearly got kicked out of the park for good, and I know that one is your favorite for corpse hunting.”

Dee’s words trailed off until the door closed behind the two friends as Roman and Virgil continued to stare at each other.

“...I love you too.”

Virgil’s face immediately lit on fire, and he let out an embarrassed sound, but didn’t move from his spot leaning against the table, knee halfway on top of it from when Dee had stopped him.

Roman couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head.

“Was that what Remus wanted me to hear?” he asked, shifting to sit on a counter (a habit he gained from Virgil, though he was more prone to sitting in actual chairs, he sat on whatever surface was closest to him).

Virgil finally shifted his leg off the table, clearing his throat as he collapsed onto the floor, legs spread out before him while he leaned back on his hands.

“...Yeah. Yeah it was. Though the recording probably had a lot more embarrassing stuff on it, I doubt they only recorded the last bit of that conversation.”

Roman nodded, tapping his fingers against the hard surface of the counter.

“To be completely honest, I had my suspicions when you started flirting back? But I didn’t really want to say anything in case you stopped, or I was wrong.”

Virgil groaned, letting his head fall back so he could stare at the ceiling.

“Yeah, that started like a week after I figured it out. Remember when you called me mushy and gooey and I threatened your weak life form?”

Roman snorted. “Yeah, I remember. And excuse you, you’re the one with a weak life form Virgil.”

Virgil squinted at Roman then. “Roman. You’re allergic to cats. And chili peppers.”

“You’re lactose intolerant!” Roman protested, earning a smirk.

“Yeah? Do you see me avoiding dairy, Roman? I have chugged an entire gallon of milk, Princey. You really think something as stupid as milk inolerance is going to stop me?”

The bickering continued, them not really acknowledging their feelings beyond the initial declarations of love.

Which was fine with Virgil. They didn’t need to label anything just yet, and it’s not like Virgil was really into physical affection beyond cuddling anyway, so nothing really would change between them, label or not.

And if they held hands more often, or teased each other with pet names they didn’t dare do before, then that was really nobody’s business, was it?

#jo writes #sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #ts deceit #ts remus #prinxiety #remus typical creativity #friendly bullying #and by that i mean virgil and roman make fun of each other a whole lot #empty death threats #short jokes #there's definitely a ghost in this #and the ghost is definitely joan #but like it's so brief

293 notes · View notes

spoonfullasugaaa · 3 years

Text

Rapper Bae Pt. 1

STORYTIME ! This all started last March (right before the pandemic) when one of my good girlfriends from college came to visit me from LA. She booked a hotel in Midtown for the week, so I headed over to pregame before we went to the club. (What happened at the club is a whole ‘nother story time and involves another rapper who has been recently incarcerated due to his involvement with the Untouchable Gorilla Stone Nation” if you can pick up what I’m putting down.)

Anyway, so we go to the club, have a ball, and end up seeing an old college friend of ours who is now a sound engineer working for Atlantic records. Sound engineer friend is thirsty for my LA friend, and tells us to come to the studio tomorrow for a smoke sesh. We figure we’ll stop by the studio after dinner but before we head out to LA friend’s NYC sponsor’s penthouse for drinks.

*the next day* We hop in my car, and head to dinner. We were going to some steakhouse on the west side, but ended up at Pio Pio instead. The food was bomb. We smoked and then decided to head over to the studio. This was at Penthouse Studios btw. So we hop out of the car, and head to the studio entrance where there’s an elevator you can only access with a key or if someone from up top brings it down. We call up thirsty Studio Engineer friend who promptly comes to collect us. We get in the elevator and ofc, we head to PH level to get to the studio.

The studio was absolutely gorgeous! It even had the starlight ceiling to make it resemble the night sky. I guess we got there when the session was just starting because there were 2 other birkenstock-and socks-wearing ass white boys setting up sound equipment and mixing music in the studio as well. Thirsty sound engineer friend introduces us to the other sound engineers, and they all proceed to start to roll hellla backwoods. When I say Hella backwoods i mean like 8-12. We all start smoking heavy, and a CAMERA CREW walks in.

At this point my friend is just smoking and casually vibing with studio engineer friend bc they’re from LA where cameras are normal lol. I on the other hand am a normal human being and was just like ... okay I’m happy that I look great today and the free smokes are also much appreciated lol, but why the fuck are there cameras here and why are they recording us???? In walks two A list rappers! They pretty much came solo other than 2 security guards.

The cameras then turn to them. The sound engineers greet them and are excited to start working. At this point everyone is in the studio doing their part. Camera crew is rolling, engineers are mixing and the rappers are smoking/preparing to listen to one of their albums that was about to drop, and WE are looking beautiful, giving good vibes, and enjoying the weed/atmosphere/music.

Now girls, we all know that it’s important to always be the most beautiful woman in the room. I was there with two of my good girlfriends, who are both gorgeous, but these were rappers from Atlanta. They like em thick and pretty down south, which I am. That’s the only reason I can say I was chosen over my other girlfriends. It’s not always about being the most beautiful in the room, but being honest with yourself about what certain men want 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anyway, the one rapper who had a project dropping soon played the whole thing for us while we smoked and hung out with our engineer friend. This whole time the camera crew is making some sort of documentary where they follow the rappers almost 24/7.

We decided it was time to leave, and I noticed one of the two rappers noticing me. Let’s call him Rapper Bae for now. At first I ignored him, bc he was kind of short in person, but he was fine, ICY and had some cute dreads. He ended up complimenting me and asking for my number. He gave me his gmail and number since he said he was constantly changing numbers. He said he wanted to see me the next day and that he would only be in NYC for the weekend as he really lives in ATL. I said cool and agreed to meet him at an event for Bellaire Rose the next day. He texted me all night about how beautiful i was and how he couldn’t wait to see me again.

The next day I ended up not feeling like going to the Bellaire event. He texted me all day begging to see me and asking me to come to another studio session that night, as he was required to be there by the label since his album was dropping soon. Although this is non-traditional and I usually would have said no to such an imprompu meeting (that was not even a date), I knew he was leaving and I did want to get to know him. So I agreed and linked at the studio. When I got to the studio, I called him and he sent a sound engineer down to get me.

Sound engineer asks are you “my name”? I’m like yes. So he takes me back up to the PH where Rapper Bae is waiting. Now, even though Rapper Bae and I only met briefly yesterday we had an instant connection. As soon as the sound engineer brought me to him, he put his arms around me. When I tell you this man held me like I was his wife of 3 years yall... i was like 😍 ! He then leans in and KISSES ME on the lips! We shared like 3 or 4 cute kisses, literally like how you kiss your man when you guys have been away from each other for a few days. The kisses and the hugs, it was all very genuine and loving for our first time really hanging out. The whole night he would record a bit, and then come back to check on me. He’d give me little kisses and nibbles on the ear and neck and ask if I needed anything.

We ended up really enjoying hanging out at the studio together. He said he didn’t smoke but he drank. I said i had henny in the car and for him to come with me to go get it. He says No. I’m like eXcUsE mE? He’s like yeah im in a foreign city u know im not from here I could get robbed I don’t have my gun on me blah blah blah. I was disgusted. Because he’s a rapper he can’t come down to my car with me??? He’s like, okay I can come. He then calls security who escorts us to my car to grab the henny and back into the building. PAUSE — the elevator at the stu requires a KEY! That none of us HAVE ! So we stood downstairs for about a half an hour with security until someone finally came down the elevator since no one in the studio can hear their fucking phone ringing apparently and was high out of their mind — even when the artist whose album is dropping is calling 😅😂

Eventually we get back up there, and it’s about 3am now so I decide to leave since rappers don’t fucking sleep. He offers to get us a room so we can spend the night together, but I decline. He was very accepting of me declining and said he would see me next time he was in NYC or I was in his city. *spoiler alert* i went to his city, where he did something VERY FUCKED UP and is no longer Bae.

Part 2 coming as soon as I type it up !

#he basically abandoned me and put me in so much danger #personal #spoonfull #story time #atlanta #nyc

4 notes · View notes

mingisanshine · 4 years

Text

KHJ: Chasing Rainbows Preview

Paring: Painter!Hongjoong x Reader

Warnings: Eventual smut! Lots of crying, angst, a lot of confliction with feelings, these two have a lot of sober and not sober deep talks, alcohol is consumed by people of age. Overall wholesome. ♥︎

(Also Hongjoong is not color blind. I just want to make that clear. It’s okay to be color blind and if you are maybe you can relate. I didn’t want to accidentally offend anyone and that’s why I’m putting this here. It’s supposed to me a mental block.)

Summary: Kim Hongjoong. The artist you inspire to be. The artist that inspired you to be something more than what you were. Everything about his work fascinates you, but when you meet him you see that’s he’s much different then what you expect him to be like. What happens when he tell you that can no longer see color? How do you keep from failing him with the burden he’s laid upon you?

»»————-　♡　————-««

You stare in awe at the canvas in front of you.

Everything about it seemed to be captivating.

The way the brushstrokes laid nicely on the canvas.

Or how the colors perfectly blended together, as if in harmony.

Then there were the tiny details. The shading, the way each grass strand was different to complete a puzzle.

It was perfect, but everything Kim Hongjoong made was always perfect.

“You’ve been staring at the same picture for the past twenty minutes.” You jump at the sound of Seonghwa’s voice. Rolling your eyes as he interrupted your thoughts whilst scaring you in the process. “Seriously I don’t think you’ve breathed since you saw it.” You sigh, turning to your towards your brother.

“You wouldn’t get it Hwa.” You grab his hand and tug him a little closer to the artwork. “Every single brushstroke laid on this canvas tells a different piece of a much bigger story.” You let go of his hand and smile gently before turning back to face him. “ The only art you consider art is your dumb acting.” Seonghwa dramatically opened his mouth in feigned shock.

“My acting is anything, but dumb. This is just colors on paper.” You gasp in pure disgust at how crude your brother could be to such fine work. Playfully hitting Seonghwa in his chest you roll your eyes. “What? Only art nerds look at a picture and search for a deeper meaning.”

“Well since I’m an Art History Major it’s my job to analyze art from everywhere. So I guess I am a certified art nerd.” Seonghwa scoffs playfully, as he grabbed a flute of champagne from behind him.

“What even is your deal with this guy?”

“I’ve been his biggest fan of his since forever. Back when I had tumblr I use to literally reblog all of his post.” You blush slightly vividly remembering all those times your day was made when you saw that he had posted something new.

“Wait is his name...Kim Hongjoong?” You perk up immediately upon hearing his name.

“Yes! How’d you know?!” You almost squeal.

“One I’m not blind. I can see his name on the plaque next to the photo.” Seonghwa looks down at you, with a mischievous smile on his face and you curse your brother for being blessed with the gift of height. “He also is here.” Seonghwa said casually downing the rest of his flute.

“You’re kidding?!” People look around you in annoyance at your volume, but you’re too excited to care.

“I actually got the invite from him. Well technically the company he’s under, but he is hosting this event.” You smile, but it immediately fades when you look down at your outfit. Your black turtleneck, tucked into black pants and simple boots, were nothing compared to people dressed in Gucci and Dior.

“I bet you’re glad I let you borrow my Chanel belt huh?”

“He’s going to think I’m a waiter.” Seonghwa chuckles at your statement trying to suppress as much laughter as he could. “I’m going to make myself look like a fool in front of one of my biggest inspirers ever.”

“And who might that be?” A new voice asked. You almost laugh, totally not acknowledging the presence of a new person.

“Seonghwa were you not paying attention? This man has been my idol since I was seventeen. He’s like one of my biggest cr-” An obnoxious laugh cuts you off and you turn to meet your brother only to see a new face.

Well not new, but definitely not someone you ever met.

“I’m glad I’ve such a big inspiration to you.” Your mouth flies open for a solid second before snapping back and spitting out gibberish.

“Holy sh- You’re Kim Hongjoong!” He laughs at your, very obnoxious, scream. He scratched the back of his neck slightly before shrugging.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“Oh my god! I’m such a big fan! I’ve- wait. How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“I’ve been eavesdropping since Seonghwa here said my work was just paint on a canvas. Started listening when you said you were an Art History Major.”

You wanted to crawl up in a ball and die at that very moment.

“Y/N is an art nerd.” Seonghwa laughed, setting the flute glass down.

“Then I guess I am too. I went to school for Art History as well. I actually really enjoyed it.” You laughed partially at Seonghwa being lowkey roasted and partially out of embarrassment.

“Great two art nerds. You guys can talk about how blue and yellow make green while I go get some more champagne.” Seonghwa walked away, leaving you alone with the most terrifying person ever.

“I really am a big fan of your work.” You mumble, turning back to the painting, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.

“Why?” He asked more to himself then to to you.

You’re silent for a moment. Shocked at such an obvious question.

“Why?” You repeat sarcastically. “Because the story you tell with your work speaks to me. The tiny details you put into your paintings instill me with hope. Your work shows me something I could never see before. Every single stroke of your brush creates something wonderful. Your art is simply...amazing.” You could feel the emotion and passion building within you.

Then he laughed. He shattered the beautiful illusion you had just created.

“You really see that when you look at paintings?” He asked almost in a beggingly.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it.” You turned back to him finally building the courage to look at him. Almost astonished to see his face twisted in disappointment.

“That’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever said about my paintings.” He turned looking at you, eyes slightly watered.

“Oh my god, please don’t cry. If you start crying I’ll start crying.” Hongjoong shook his head, laughing.

“How much does art mean to you?” He asked eyes closed. You quirk your eyebrow up in slight confusion.

“It’s everything to me. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” Hongjoong opened his eyes and grabbed your hands. If you weren’t blushing before, then you most definitely were now.

“Do you think you can come to my studio?” You stare between him and his hands. Not sure whether to be scared or to be flattered.

“Why?”

“I think you can help me with my next project. I have a certain block.” You remove your hands and step back a little. Suspecting where this was leading.

“Look you seem like a nice guy, but I’m not that kind of gi-” Hongjoong cut you off before you could finish your statement.

“You didn’t think I was asking you to sleep with me where you?” You blush and look down at your boots, only for Hongjoong to grab your hand again. “I’m not that kind of guy. I would never ask you to do something like that. I just wanted some fresh eyes, from someone who can see things from a different perspective and has knowledge on art. Please don’t feel pressured to say yes.” You hesitate for a moment. Looking back at his eyes only to be met with pure sincerity. Almost making you combust right there.

“Are you sure?” He nodded looking down at you. “I mean why would why I pass up this offer?” He smiled and pulled you through a crowd of people causing you to yelp in shock. You make eye contact with Seonghwa and see him jaw dropped, mouthing an apology.

“Thank you so much.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Holy shit.” You breathed out as Hongjoong opened the door to his studio. It looked almost unreal. Mason jar lights hung from the ceiling, big wide windows brought in the gentle rays of the sun, casting a small shadow. The back wall was filled with sketches and paintings. Blank and covered canvases filled almost every corner of the room. Other crafts hung from the walls and a couple plants littered the studio. Faded and some new paint splotches cover the easel sitting in the middle of the room. You felt as if you were walking onto a scene for a movie. “Hongjoong this is beautiful.” He shut the door and laughed lightly. “I don’t know how someone can have a block when being in such a lovely setting.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s hard for me to grasp on to as well.” He took his jacket off and hung it on the rack before walking over to the covered easel. “Y/N I want your complete and honest answer. Don’t hold any punches. You have to promise me you won’t.”

“I promise.” He lifted the cover of the easel and you gasp.

“Is it that bad?” He bit his bottom lip, nervously.

“Hongjoong. It’s beautiful.” You hand runs over the canvas gently.

“What do you see?” He asked eyes closed. “Give me every detail.”

“I see a child. Running after a sun set. The tinted glow of the sun setting a shadow on her and the tiny farm house in the back. She’s running like she can reach the horizon before it’s gone. Like she’s running for hope.” He lets out a shaky breath, before breathing in again.

“What colors do you see?”

“Pink, yellow, burnt orange, red, crimson and gold. Typical colors you see during a sunset. Why’d you ask such a silly question?” He dropped the canvas cover and turned towards you with the most pitiful look in his eye.

“I can’t see it.” You freeze and question what he means.

“What do you mean you can’t see it?” He walked away from the canvas and sat down on the couch in the corner, resting his head in the palms of his hands.

“I haven’t been able to see color for almost three years.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

A/N: This isn’t edited yet. So they’re most definitely going to be mistakes, but I just wanted to put this out there. I wrote majority of this in a day and I’m actually loving it so far. Tell me what you think!!

Love you!!♥︎♡♥︎♡

#Chasing Rainbows #Chasing Rainbows Preview #ateez fanfiction #ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #Ateez Fame Series

102 notes · View notes

monstaless · 4 years

Text

On The Low - Part Two

Author: @monstaless

Relationships: fwb!Bambam x Reader, some JB x reader

Warnings: angst, smut, language, my possibly incorrect Korean (which I guess in the context of this fic is okay), some Vagabond spoilers (if you haven’t watched it yet, 10/10 highly recommend)

Song - On The Low by Justin Park

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m not sure how I feel about this. I hope you guys like it though! The third and final part will be finished and posted, hopefully, soon.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

They were going on month two of their arrangement. Bambam had no complaints. She didn’t expect much from him. He didn’t have to text her everyday. He didn’t have to ask how her day had been. Although he still did both of those things fairly often as he would with any of his friends. They still had dinner together regularly and she still watched his cats if scheduling had him out of town. The sex was only getting better with time. He had no complaints at all. Not one.

He still hadn’t told anyone other than Yugyeom about it though. If he had plans, that was all he said. Just a simple “Sorry, guys, I’ve got plans this evening.” Though they all exchanged looks, none of them pushed for more information.

Yugyeom, of course, was curious about the situation and always had questions. Were they just secretly dating? What exactly were they if they weren’t dating? Were they exclusive? Was she seeing other people? Was he seeing anyone else? Did Bambam like her as more than a friend? Did she like Bambam as more than a friend?

He didn’t have all the answers though. He’d never done anything like this before. He wasn’t even sure that he understood the situation completely. It was like they were dating, but still in many ways it was completely different.

Bambam: Netflix and chill? I can supply dinner. Y/N: I don’t really feel that great. Bambam: Oh god! Are you contagious? Bambam: Am I going to be next? How long have you been sick? Y/N: No haha It’s not that kind of sick. Bambam: Oh...do you need anything? Bambam: We can still Netflix and chill. Bambam: I’m bringing you something sweet. Be there in 20.

He was on his way home anyway and didn’t mind stopping by the nearest Thai restaurant to grab her favorite treat. Especially, if it would make her feel even the slightest bit better.

She opened the door and stood behind it in sweats and a sweater that was way too big. His heart stopped for a moment. He was sure of that. He’d never seen her look so cute. He almost told her, but rethought it. Was this what he was missing out on most of the time? What would she look like in his sweaters?

“Sorry, I know I look terrible.” She must’ve mistaken his silence for disgust. She brushed a strand of hair that had come loose from her braid behind her ear and looked at the floor.

“No, you don’t,” he argued, holding the bag of food out to her in order to avoid having to say more. She took it and looked up at him before even checking the contents.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you think it is.”

“Mango sticky rice?!”

“Yup,” he chuckled, feeling very proud of himself. “I thought it might help you feel a little better.”

“You’re the greatest!” She pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. “Wanna watch Vagabond with me?”

“You finished A Korean Odyssey without me, didn’t you?” he asked in disbelief. She gave him a sheepish grin over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t help it. You know how much I love Lee Seung-gi. He stole my heart,” she laughed. He did know how much she loved Lee Seung-gi. She swooned over him every time she saw him: TV, magazines, commercials. All of it. It was hard not to know how much she loved the actor. “Also, I couldn’t just stop there. The suspense was killing me. Do you want something to drink? I have hot tea.”

“Sure, I’ll take some.”

She ushered him to the sofa and he took a seat to wait for her return. She handed him a cup of tea and a fork for his container of sticky rice before sitting down next him. Then cocooned herself in her favorite fuzzy blanket and reached for the remote.

He shot her a look as she pressed play on Vagabond without starting it over. He looked at her in disbelief.

“You better start this whole series over for me, if you want me to watch it with you.” He made a face at her when she hesitated. “I’m not kidding. I’ll leave right now and take the sticky rice with me.”

She pouted, but went back to the episode selection to start it over. She scooted in closer to him so that she could lean against his shoulder. Then popped open the mango sticky rice and dug in.

“Oh my god! Why would you make me watch this? That poor kid!” He protested in horror as he swiped at his watering eyes. They were still only on episode one. She didn’t answer and he looked over to find her asleep, cuddled into his side like it was the most natural thing ever. His heart skipped a beat. He’d never seen her like this. She’d never fallen asleep during a show and she was rarely this cuddly. They’d never been in a position like this. He didn’t know what to do. He could wake her up, but then he’d lose this moment. He could let her sleep, but then she might miss something in the show and she’d be mad at him.

He turned his attention back to the TV, but now he couldn’t refocus on it. Not with her snuggled up to him like this. He made his decision.

“Y/N?” he nudged her gently. Then repeated her name a second time. She opened her eyes and then, realizing where she was, sat up quickly. “Do you want me to go home so that you can get some sleep?”

“You don’t have to. Sorry that I fell asleep on you,” she murmured. “I’m just super tired. I think I’m okay now though.”

But Bambam wasn’t okay. The image of her sleeping peacefully on his shoulder was burned into his brain. A glimpse of what he could have if they were more. Something he could have every time he was home. This was one of the things he was missing out on. This was the difference, he realized.

She was hanging out with JB. She’d turned him down for JB. He tried not to feel betrayed. He knew that she and JB were friends and that they hung out regularly. He also knew that his request to hang out had been last minute and she’d been planning to hang out with JB for the past week. She’d told him a week ago about her plans and in his excitement, he’d forgotten. She’d even told him that he could join them.

He couldn’t occupy all of her time though and he had nothing to be jealous of. He’d agreed to this situation. Even if something happened between her and JB, he couldn’t actually get mad about it. He’d known all along that exclusivity wasn’t part of the deal.

It just bothered him that it was JB. If it had been any other member, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so insecure, but he knew that she was into JB. She’d been into JB since the first time she met him. Everyone knew.

Y/N: Sorry that we couldn’t hang out today. Y/N: JB is about to leave. I can make it up to you when he leaves, if you want 😏 Bambam: You know that I’m not gonna turn down apology sex.

“Damnit, Bam. People are gonna ask,” she grumbled as she stood in the bathroom inspecting the mark he’d left on her skin. She shot him a look over her shoulder and he replied with a shrug.

“You can use makeup to cover it, you’ll be fine.” He hoped she wouldn’t though. He wanted JB to know that she was seeing someone. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so jealous of JB. Maybe it was because the other day, JB had asked him about her. JB’s curiosity was making him concerned that their arrangement might end soon. He knew that she liked JB. She didn’t try to hide it. She got all smiley when they were texting and if she was around him, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

Lately, she had been spending almost as much time with JB as she spent with Bambam.

“What’s up with you? You’re weird today.” She pointed out as she sat next to him on the bed. Her annoyance about the mark had dissipated. She was genuinely concerned and he felt a pang of guilt for letting his jealousy get the better of him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t hang out earlier.”

“It’s not that. It’s just...work stress. I’m sorry,” he offered.

“You know you can talk to me about it, right?”

“Of course. It’s just the usual stuff. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I should probably go.” He tugged on his T-shirt.

“Oh. Okay. Um, text me if you need anything,” she offered as she followed him to the door.

JB had seen the marks on her neck. He’d asked Bambam if she was seeing anyone and Bambam, still feeling guilty about being so jealous, fought the urge to lie. He told a half truth instead. That she was seeing someone, but he didn’t think that it was serious. When JB asked what he meant, Bambam explained that she and the man she was currently involved with were sleeping together, but that appeared to be the extent of their relationship. Jaebeom looked disgusted and Bambam felt a little bit of surprise that the truth had actually worked in his favor.

Until, JB spoke again and Bambam realized that it was actually quite the opposite. JB was disgusted that the man hadn’t committed to her. He didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to call her theirs. Bambam pointed out that maybe she was the one who didn’t want anything more. JB made a face and stated that either way, the guy obviously wasn’t the one for her. Bambam decided to drop it before JB unknowingly insulted him more.

“You know that you don’t have to go home, right? You can stay here,” he offered as she started to get out of the bed. She laughed.

“Bam, I literally live an elevator ride away. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I know. I just figured I’d offer. It’s pretty chilly tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “My heating system works, you know?”

“Why are we still doing this? Why don’t we just make it official? I know you said that you didn’t want something serious, but this isn’t that different. I can give you whatever you want.”

“I just am not interested in being tied down right now. This works for me.”

“You like Jaebeom-hyung, don’t you?” he questioned, immediately regretting his childish outburst, hating how rude he’d sounded. She looked at him in surprise. It was too late to take it back now though. He might as well get his answers. It had been gnawing at him for weeks. He adjusted his tone this time though. “Why don’t you date him? It seems like he likes you. You hang out all the time. Why do you keep coming to me?”

“Really? This has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You’re an idol, Bambam! You know what that means. Why would I want to date an idol, Bam? Why would I want to hide my relationship from the whole world? Why would I choose to date someone that I can’t be seen in public with? Why would I date someone who can’t marry me or have children with me because it means putting their job on the line? You said when you started this that you didn’t want anything serious!”

“Why didn’t you go for him first? Why did you choose me?”

“I just told you that this has nothing to do with Jaebeom. You made the first move, Bam. I told you the first time that I didn’t want anything serious and you said you were okay with that. You said that you didn’t want anything serious either.”

“That was before I knew how much I really liked you.”

“I don’t think that we should keep doing this.” She took a deep breath and shimmied into her dress. “I need to go home.”

“Y/N. Wait!” He tried to follow her, but by the time he’d gotten his jeans pulled on and made his way to the door, the elevator doors were already closing. “Fuck!”

He slammed the door and pressed his back against it. He was torn between trying to talk to her and just letting it go completely. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Who knew if she’d ever talk to him again.

Bambam was surprised to see JB in the parking garage of his building. JB explained that he was there to see Y/N. They hadn’t hung out in a while and she’d been pretty quiet for the past week. He was quiet for a moment before asking Bambam if something had happened between her and the guy that she had been seeing. Bambam shrugged and admitted that he hadn’t spoken to her recently, but he hadn’t seen her with the guy. He skipped the part where it was because he was the guy and they’d been avoiding each other.

“Geunyoneun manggo chapssareul joahamnida,” he offered as the elevator doors opened.It was his way of apologizing to her. He knew that she didn’t want to see him. She would’ve said something if she did. Instead, it had been radio silence. “Geugosi geunyoreul giun nage hal gosimnida.”

He didn’t wait to see if JB got on the elevator or not. He was pretty sure that he’d lost her for good either way. He would’ve settled for just staying friends, but he’d lost his temper and now he’d lost his best friend.

He couldn’t sleep.

When he’d returned home, JB’s car had still been in the parking garage. His mind couldn’t stop playing through the possibilities. Had she changed her mind? Was she taking a chance on JB? Or had JB just taken his place? He couldn’t believe that he’d let it go this far. He’d known that she had a thing for JB. She and JB had hit it off from the start. He’d gone into their arrangement knowing that eventually it would come to an end. He’d known that it would never be more than just sex. He’d agreed to that arrangement. How had he convinced himself that it might ever be something more?

He had never had the right to be jealous. Especially not now. They were done. She was free to see JB if she wanted. She’d always been free to see JB if she wanted.

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #got7 smut #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 bambam #kunpimook bhuwakul #bambam fic #bambam smut #bambam fluff #bambam angst #on the low

8 notes · View notes

is-it-madness · 4 years

Text

My Glorious Purpose Loki | OC Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you @wowjeena, my lovely beta! Love you, darling! 💜😘 Also! I’m going to be posting the next chapter in a short while, since they go together.

Pairing: Loki x OC (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: Honestly, none that I can think of... maybe discussing events from the previous chapter?

Chapter 7: Ashamed

(Tera’s POV)

When we reach the top floor, we walk out of the elevator to see Bruce trying to show Thor how to use a phone, with Steve watching over. He’s still a little shaky when it comes to modern technology.

“Finally!” Tony said, walking out of the kitchen with a glass in his hand. “You took forever.”

I frown. “We literally just hung up with you Tony.”

He just waves his glass at me, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey Point Break, the rest of the team is here.”

Thor looks up at us. He grabs Clint in a powerful hug and kisses Nat’s hand. He turns to me.

“Hi Thor!”

“Lady Tera! I have missed you a great deal!”

He pulls me into a hug and spins me around. I laugh, holding onto him tightly.

“Okay you two. Put her down. I don’t need you destroying my building Thor.”

He places me back on my feet.

“So what brought you back to Earth, Thor?” Bruce asks.

Thor turns to face the rest of the group.

“Well, as you know, the Allfather banished me to Midgard several years ago as a punishment for my actions.”

I nod. Coulson had told me this story.

“Well, the Allfather deemed it a suitable punishment for Loki. Making him live with those he tried to destroy.”

Tony chokes on his drink. “You’re telling me Reindeer Games is coming back to Earth?”

“No.” Thor replies solemnly.

Tony sighs, “Hallelujah.”��

“He’s already here!” Thor runs out of the room and out to the balcony.

Nat and I look at each other, then we all run after Thor.

I look around for Loki, but I only see Thor, crouching next to a struggling green and gold object.

I almost laugh. It’s Loki, laying down trying to stand but unable to because Thor placed Mjolnir on his chest.

“Thor! Get your stupid, glorified hammer off me this instant.”

Thor just laughs, but does what Loki asks him. He quickly stands and Thor takes off the cuffs restraining him. Loki brushes himself off while glaring at his brother.

Tony steps forward. “Thor, you can’t be serious! You expect us to-to babysit a homicidal murderer?”

Thor clasped Tony’s shoulder. “Not to worry Man of Iron. I will be here to watch him.”

Tony frowns and walks back inside, annoyed.

“We don’t have a room for him Thor,” Steve reminds him.

“Not to worry Captain. He shall have Mjolnir’s room.”

“Mjolnir has a room?” I ask laughing.

“Yes, I asked Tony to build a room for Mjolnir when he was reconstructing his tower.”

“Alright Thor, I don’t think we can refuse this, so if Loki does anything, you’re responsible,” Steve tells him.

“Of course.” Thor says, with a bow of his head.

“I’m standing right here you morons.”

We all just look at Loki, before heading back inside.

“Come brother.”

“I would rather stay out here Thor.”

“Just leave him Thor,” I say. “You come inside, I want to tell you guys about my mission tonight.”

Thor smiles at me and we head back inside. Everyone sits around and I start telling them about what happened tonight. I left out parts when I told them what happened. Knowing Bruce, he would have hulked out and Thor would demand that Foyer must die. As I start telling them when Foyer left Nat to come to me, I notice a shadow standing near the doors of the balcony, listening in, but I pretend not to see.

It’s nearly one in the morning when I finish, I started around midnight. I would have finished sooner, but Clint kept interjecting. Steve, Bruce, Clint, Tony start to make their way to their rooms as does Nat. I go to the fridge looking for something to eat. Thor goes outside to bring Loki inside.

I sit on the kitchen counter and take off my heels. I stay sitting there, eyes closed, letting the waves of excitement wash over me and drain out.

“Are you alright Lady Tera?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine Thor. Just relaxing.”

“Alright then, I will see you in the morning. Goodnight!”

“Night Thor.”

He walks down the hall to his room, with Loki by his side.

I hop off the counter and grab a cookie. I make my way back towards the couches, munching. The events of the night bothering me, I feel so dirty. I sit on the couch, closing my eyes, trying to forget what I allowed to happen with my body.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the mortal child.”

I open my eyes.

“I thought you went to bed.”

“Please. I just needed the oaf to think that.”

Loki steps out of the shadows.

“You look lovely.”

“Thanks,” I respond apprehensively.

He makes his way across the living room and sits at the other end of the couch.

He smirks. “I don’t think however, you dressed this way for me.”

I glare at him. “No I didn’t. I don’t dress to please anyone. And besides, I saw you standing there, listening to my story.”

“That is correct. But I believe that I am not the only one to avoid the truth.”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t avoid anything.”

He shakes his head. “I heard your thoughts. You felt it necessary to leave parts of your story out. I am no fool. You left out information from the others.”

“So what if I did?”

“Nothing,” he said airily. “I just want the full story.”

I stand. “Why do you care what he did to me?”

“So he did do something then?” Loki asks, smirking.

I slowly sit back down. I hang my head, staring at the ground.

“Yes,” I whisper. I don’t want to admit it to anyone, not even to Nat, but I’m disgusted with myself. I had let Foyer touch me, have fun with my body. I feel sick with myself. I allowed all those things to happen.

I tense as Loki scoots closer to me, almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Do you wish to talk about it?”

I shake my head, but in my mind I scream. YES!

“Well which is it?”

I look at him, my eyes filling with tears. His expression changes from smug to despair? Hurt? It’s something, but not the usual smirk. I look away.

“Okay. I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell anyone,” I plead.

“You have my word.”

I take a deep breath and start.

“Well, when Nat left us, he took my face in his hands and started looking me over. I felt like a piece of meat displayed for him, to do as he pleased.”

I see Loki clench his fist, his knuckles turning white.

“He started saying how I’m not like other girls,” I continue. “He started saying that I didn’t throw myself at him like all the other women did when he entered the room. He said I’m playing hard to get and that he likes that. Then he grabbed my waist and pulled me to him and whispered in my ear that women who are like that ‘taste the sweetest’.”

My voice catches when I try to continue. I clear my throat.

“Next thing I knew I felt him place a kiss on my neck. Clint and Nat were about to take him down, but I signaled for them to hold on. They heard what he said and did. But I continued. I wrapped my arms around Foyer’s neck and asked him ‘If we taste the sweetest, what do you taste like?’ When I said that, he tried to kiss me but I stopped him.”

I drop my voice down to a whisper. I’m scared to keep talking, scared someone would hear.

“I told him we should go somewhere private, so I can get him on my own and get the information from him. He took me by my hand and we went into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he tried kissing me again, but I stopped him again.”

I try to cover the tears spilling down my cheeks.

“I told him if he wanted a kiss, he would have to do what I tell him to do. He then put both his hands on my waist. I tried to back away from him, but I couldn't. He bent over to whisper into my ear again. He told me I taste divine, and I felt him trail his tongue upward toward my jaw.”

So good, I can hear Foyer whispering again.

I take a shaky breath before continuing.

“I couldn't take it anymore, so I made him think I would please him. I cuffed him to his chair and gagged him with his tie. Then I called Nat and Clint to come.”

I look up at Loki when I finish. He looks absolutely furious, his jaw is clenched, his knuckles still white, green eyes flashing.

Something about his eyes nags me, but I’m not sure what it is.

He reaches his hand up, hesitantly, and wipes my tears.

I look at him in shock.

“It is not your fault Tera.”

I shake my head. “Yes it is. I let him do that to me. I allowed it to happen. I gave up my dignity to him. He was enjoying himself, I knew it and yet I did nothing to stop him. I’m filthy, disgusting. I’m sick. I let this happen.”

Loki takes my hands in his large, slender ones.

“Don’t. Don’t allow yourself to think of yourself in such a manner. You did what you needed to. This is not your fault. It will not make anyone think lower of you.”

I give him a small smile.

“Why don’t you go to sleep? You need it.”

I stand. “What about you?”

He waves his hand, standing as well. “I will find my way. It’s not hard when your beacon is a snoring Thor.”

I stand there, thinking if my next action will lead to my demise.

I throw my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. I realized how short I am when I’m next to him.

“Thanks for not degrading me. And for listening.”

I grab my heels and run for the elevator to head up to my room. Before the doors close, I see Loki standing still, a shocked expression on his face.

I make my way into my room. I place my heels in my closet and head to my bathroom. I peel off the dress and take a quick shower. When I finish, I put on my Harry Potter pajamas and climb into bed. As I drift to sleep, I question whether or not it was a good idea to tell Loki what happened. He was sarcastic at first, but I think he was sincere when I told him what happened. But what about that hug? Why on earth would I think it was a good idea to do that?

Just act like nothing happened, I think. Nobody needs to know. Hopefully he’ll forget by morning.

And with that comforting thought, I drift off to sleep.

Part 8

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki x ofc #marvel #loki fanfic #My Glorious Purpose #loki odinson #marvel fanfic #loki fanfiction

20 notes · View notes