#also she did several things when she was drunk that i found cringe/i personally would b embarrassed if i was her but she just found it funn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

enigmawrappedinhypocrisy · 3 years

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*Request* Okay. Thanks! Could the reader be in to wrestling and her and barley are best friends? And something happened and they find out they’re falling for each other? And Ian is always teasing the reader? And a kiss at the end? Sorry if it’s a bit confusing.. again thanks!

Okay I’m not sure how to do this… and I’m not into wrestling… And i’m really bad at this getting things done thing… sooo… I’m sorry, I know this has been in my asks for 100 years. But excuses… And i’m tired of this being in my drafts sooo… However, Hopefully it's decent enough.

Fandom: Onward

Pairings: Barley x Reader (mention of grandchildren once but nothing that indicates gender... I think...)

Warnings: Bad writing, Quick Mention of drunk idiots harassing reader, I don’t know a thing about Wrestling, Fluff, very bouncy thoughts... a tiny little bit of almost angst.

❀✦ Master List✦❀

You met Barley at a wrestling match when a few drunk idiots decided to hassle you. As they tend to do…

You ran into the first, seemingly safe person you saw. You looked at him with puppy eyes and were grateful he understood your silent plea.

Barley smiled warmly and put his arm around you. He pretended to be your boyfriend until the guys lost interest in you and left. He made some jokes to lighten the mood and struck up a casual conversation with you, as if you really did know each other. You found yourself amazed and feeling better, it seemed this elf boy radiated security and gentleness.

Then, with a simple thank you, you’d parted ways; only to run into each other again at the local diner after the match. It was there you had sat and talked well into the early hours of the morning.

You learned he was interested in many things you were, and you just felt… content around him. By the time you had to part, numbers were exchanged, and he’d texted you before noon that day.

You began hanging out shortly after that. You were nearly always at each other’s house, and quickly became close with his family. His mother adored you and his brother felt comfortable enough to joke around with you.

All in all you and Barley were quite close.

But not as close as your family's seemed to think you were… or maybe hope would be more appropriate…

The weekend had finally arrived and you made your way to Barley’s house, as planned, after work.

There was a big wrestling event in the evening and you and Barley had plans to hang out and watch it together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend a lot of time at the Lightfoot house so no one batted an eye when you showed up a little early.

Ms. Lightfoot welcomed you and let you know that Barley had called saying he'd be a little late, and she was going out with friends. As she was leaving she turned to wink at you telling you, with a knowing look, to have fun.

You thanked her as you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and made your way to the familiar living room. You didn't mind waiting for Barley, in fact, you'd be willing to wait all night if it meant spending time with him. Not that you would tell him that...

Lost in your thoughts about how dumb and sappy that sounded even in your mind, and the implications therein, you hadn't noticed Barley's brother come in.

You had spent a fair amount of time with both brothers since you’d first met Barley. So by this time Ian was pretty comfortable around you, sometimes even coming to you for help or advice. Especially when it entailed something he might have been too embarrassed about to ask his mother or brother about.

Ian had decided to take a break from homework, and get a snack when he found you lost in thought on his couch. When he came back from the kitchen only to find you with the same dazed expression several minutes later he decided to tease you a little.

"Barley late for date night?" Ian asks, his tone even, leaning against the wall an apple in hand.

"Yea- wait no! Why would you say that?" You blink taken off guard by the sudden question.

Ian raises an eyebrow in a ‘really?’ expression.

“Shut up” you try and fail to keep the blush from your voice. "We're just… eh… hanging out!" You defend a little too enthusiastically.

“Interesting that’s the part you chose to respond to…” Ian chuckles, before heading back upstairs. If you weren't ready to admit your feelings, who was he to do it for you… besides, this was far more amusing.

It wasn't much longer until Barley arrived home, a little disheveled. The match wasn't due to start for another hour, maybe more depending on how things went, and yet it looked like the elf boy had rushed home.

Why?

The only thought that continued to creep into your mind was you… he rushed home to see you. The idea of It warmed your heart, and filled you with a longing. A longing for a potential life where Barley was coming home after work each day to see you.

He'd find you cooking… reading… working on some project… and kiss you.

You'd ask him about his day… and he yours.

You'd share a pleasant dinner and end the night cuddled on the couch…

You’d be happy…

Ian's words run on loop in your mind and you don’t notice the way Barley’s face lights up upon seeing you.

Did Barley think you were dating? That this was a date?

Did he want it to be?

Did you?

You hadn't noticed you were staring until Barley brought attention to it.

"What?" You jump.

"I asked why you were looking at me like that?" he gives you his charming little half smile as he repeats, what you assume was, his earlier question.

"Oh, um… nothing… no reason" you blush and desperately avoid looking at him.

Barley watches you for a moment, clearly not believing your answer, but gives in with a shrug.

"I'm just gonna go put my stuff down and get something to drink… you want something?" He asks.

"Okay, um… no thanks" you try to sound casual all the while you're incredibly aware of your quickening heartbeat.

Barley nods before leaving you, calling to you from the kitchen. He asks about your day. You give a non answer in response and ask him about his.

He goes on to tell you about some funny thing his boss said in response to an irate customer, and soon returns to the living room. He hands you your drink before flopping down next to you.

You scold him as you nearly spill. Not really realizing he brought you something even though you told him you didn’t need him to… not only that, but it was definitely your favorite… why would he… how…

"Sorry my love" he smirks, clearly not sorry.

You roll your eyes giving him a little shove in response to the nickname. He often called you sweet things. Things you previously attributed to his personality or teasing but now they had you wondering.

When he called you those things, sweetheart, darling, dear… was he actually hinting at what he really felt?

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and quickly squeak noticing he was watching you with an indescribable emotion.

"W-what?" You try to act casual.

"What's wrong with you?" He asks, blunt and to the point.

"What do you mean?" You try and play it off, as if your mind wasn’t playing that little game with the levers and ball… and see you can’t even remember what it’s called… and it’s your analogy…

PINBALL! Your brain was playing pinball… the dinging buzzing things the ball hits against being the sudden and many thoughts… which makes you the ball? Or was the ball the thoughts… bouncing around… there goes the analogy again…

"You're being all quiet and…” he indicates you vaguely, “did my mom say something to you? She's been teasing me about grandchildren lately, she didn't say something like that too you did she?"

Your eyes widen and you suspect Barley didn't mean to let that slip out by the blush now coloring his ears.

"No… but um… what-what do you tell her when she asks about that kind of stuff?" Yeah super subtle…

Barley scratches the back of his neck, “I tell her we haven't discussed that…"

Wait…

"Why would we… Um Barley?" You push away your insecurities, fear that you’d read the situation wrong, and decide to just jump in with both feet.

Or tip over the machine? Does it work now? The analogy?

He 'hmms'.

"Do you think we're dating?" You try to phrase it gently but cringe when you hear yourself. You don’t want to come across rude, like you’re making fun of him… but also don’t wanna let on how much you’re starting to suspect you want him to say yes…

Barley looks away from you, practically purple at this point.

"Uh… no of course not…" It sounded small, nervous but... hopeful?

"Do… do you want to?" you manage to force out, slightly proud of your mostly even tone.

Do you?

You’re still not sure at this point yourself, you’d only just realized the way you feel about the elf boy that was your best friend. Did you want to risk that? What happens if this was just a little puppy attraction, lust thing… and whatever relationship you begin quickly sizzles out?

Barley is looking at his hands as he nervously fiddles with the zipper of his vest. He bites his lip and tries to avoid your gaze.

Oh…

You soften, “It’s okay if you do… I mean… wanna… um…” Now you can’t find the words, which becomes more difficult when Barley looks up at you, hope shining in his eyes.

“What are you saying?” he prompts, heart pounding in his chest. He hopes you can’t hear it.

You shift, turning towards him slightly. “Well… if you wanted to maybe go on a date or something…”

“Yes?”

“I’d probably be okay with that… I mean… if you want to” you add the last part, now desperately hoping this wasn’t some awful joke.

Barley smiles, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your face. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asks softly, apparently having gained some confidence back.

You nod, leaning into his touch before you realize you’re doing it.

“Tomorrow night?” he suggests.

Again, you nod, not trusting your voice.

Barley smiles, his attention turning back to the tv. The match was starting soon, the announcers already talking about what they expect to happen. He leans back, his arm resting behind you on the top of the couch. Not an uncommon thing for the elf boy. What was uncommon, however, was you relaxing against his side and how right it felt.

Without a word, perhaps because he wasn’t sure he could trust his voice either, Barley brings his arm down around you, holding you against him.

If you had the courage yourself to look up at him, you would have seen the flushing upon his cheeks. But either way this was comfortable and you weren’t in a hurry to end it any time soon.

A few hours later Barley's mom returns home. Maaaybe a little drunk which results in her cooing loudly when she finds you and Barley asleep and cuddling on the couch.

This, and her half stumbling up the stairs, manages to rouse you and Barley from your comfortable nap.

Barley yawns, and slowly gets to his feet.

"Come on, I'll drive you home" he offers another yawn soon follows.

"Don't worry, I can drive myself" you stretch, not really pleased with the idea of making the trip home yourself.

"You're too tired- not safe" Barley half murmurs.

"You're too tired" you retort.

"You should stay here… on the couch… or I can take the couch" he stumbles over his words.

You nod in agreement flopping back on the couch. When Barley doesn't leave you raise a brow in question.

"I was just thinking…" he shuffles from one foot to the other.

You watch him with patient eyes, now a little more alert. You'd let him say what he needed, when he needed not wanting to rush him.

"I mean… if I don't drive you home I can't kiss you goodbye…"

His ears were a dark maroon by now and you can't keep the smile from your eyes. His sweetness, his bashfulness, just how God damn cute he was. And most of all… how much you wanted to kiss his pink tinted face.

So you did.

You stood, quicker than he could react, grabbed his face on either side, and brought his lips to yours. After a moment of shock Barley’s arms come around you, keeping you too him.

You can't say for sure if the head rush you felt was from the kiss or standing too suddenly, but you chose to think it was the kiss as you give him several more little pecks before eventually breaking apart with a yawn.

"Better?" You ask, your head falling forward to lean against his shoulder.

Barley nods before pulling back, calling a good night to you, and hurrying to his room.

You chuckle softly before flopping once again on the couch… there'd be time tomorrow to deal with all this… but for now… sleep was calling and the old couch was far too inviting…

*And that’s all folks*

#Barley Lightfoot #Barley X Reader #Barley Lightfoot x reader #Onward #Once again writing about something I don't know about #Request #Fluff

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angelicmichael · 3 years

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living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

“But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist hehe

#brooke x montana #brooke thompson x montana duke #brotana #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #my fic #will post to ao3 soon 😌#did I procrastinate my Andy fic to write this?? maybe lmao #I’m almost done w my Andy fic tho I swear 😭#i know I never talk about brotana so this is probably random asf but I just wanted to write something wlw 😌

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p---ink · 4 years

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Stark Contrasts: Chapter One

Author’s Note PLEASE READ: Hi, this is my very first published fan fiction, and I wrote it because its so rare to find Tony Smut. Everyone wants him as a dad, while I want him as a daddy. Please give this story a chance, and if there are any grammar errors let me know. I proofread the shit out of this, but there's always the chance that I missed something. When you write something it could make perfect sense to yourself, but 0 sense to the next person. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my story, I really enjoyed writing it! Also as aforementioned (hope I’m using that word right), this is my first story so go easy on me! I only have room to improve. PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK!

Summary: AU where you're dating Tony Stark’s son, even though it’s Tony you really want. He isn't ironman in this one guys sorry.

Warnings: Smut, cheating, daddy kink, some other shit I already forgot about. :)

Song: The song I listened to while writing this was Kiss it Off Me by Cigarettes After Sex.

Word Count: 7.4K

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine.

You and Edward James Stark had been dating for a solid six months before you both declared your undying love for one another. Had you known he was lying through his teeth you would have never said those three words. Not even a month after that, you found him in bed with another girl. You see, he was a serial cheater who didn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming though, you weren’t the best at picking them.

Edward was not the first, and he would not be the last to break your heart. Blame it on your daddy issues, or maybe blame it on the shit-head men who insist on eating their cake and having it to. Of course he gave you every bullshit excuse in the book to keep you from leaving. “We were really drunk” is what he came up with when you first caught him cheating. “Those are my cousin's”, was what he said when you found a pair of panties that weren’t yours in his penthouse. Your favorite excuse though, was the one where he blamed your all-night study sessions on his latest fuck-up due to the lack of attention you were giving him.

You didn’t know why Edward was still with you, especially since he could have relatively any woman he wanted. Perhaps it was because you were great for his brand; you were a good girl, straight-A student who made everyone around you fall in love. You could charm the pants off of your professors and peers, and you were one of the nicest people anyone would ever meet. It didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes either. Above all however, was your modesty and selflessness. You always put others happiness above your own, which made you completely different to Edward’s arrogance and narcism.

You and others often questioned how you even fell for him. You had a theory that he only dated you, because you were what the other guys wanted.

Whatever the reason he chose to stay, could not matter any less than it did to you…because the reason you stayed, was because you were hopelessly in love with his dad.

Tony Stark—girl, did God take his time with this one, was a more seasoned, mature version of his son. Don’t get me wrong because he was just as cocky, but in a more attractive way. And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, because the billionaire playboy had just reached a divorce settlement due to his infidelity. In other words, he was just as much of a piece of shit as his son, the only difference was that he was trying to change. He was older than any of the men you had ever been with, but maybe, like him, you needed a change of pace.

You met Tony seven months into your relationship with Edward. He had hoped if you saw how rich his family was, you would want to stick around. If he knew you were still with him because you wanted to fuck his dad he would have lost his shit. Yea, Edward was the type of guy to throw a bitch-fit if you so much as blinked at a guy in the wrong way, yet he wouldn’t hesitate to fuck a bitch for breathing.

Though Tony had a notorious reputation for being cruel to the women he either slept with or wanted to sleep with, he was good as gold to you. He appreciated your love and passion for your studies and crafts. He thought it was refreshing that you spoke your mind with no fear of repercussions, most people kissed his ass with the hope that he would give them a handout or put in a good word in terms of life-changing opportunities. What he loved most about you, was the faraway look you had when you were thinking. He thought that your carefree spirit was the secret to your beauty.

It was not lost on you that Tony at least felt some of the same feelings towards you that you did to him. You’d be an idiot to not notice the long trips his eyes would take across your body, or the fact that he insisted on doing menial tasks for you that you could easily do for yourself. The sexual tension and flirty conversations with hidden meanings were enough to have the two of you in a bedroom for hours, but you both would never act on your feelings. He didn’t want to hurt his son, and while you couldn’t care less about Edward’s feelings, you didn’t want people to think you were that kind of girl. That being said it really surprised you when he offered for you and Edward to move in with him.

You had known each other for several months now, and up until then you two avoided each other when you could, due to your feelings, but Tony claimed his house was too big for just him since Pepper, Edward’s mom, was now gone. Edward was on board with the idea, because it meant more time to kiss his father’s ass in hopes of him eventually letting him inherit Stark Industries.

“..anyway, I think it’s a good idea.” Tony explained, ripping you out of your daze. You all were currently sitting in his dining room drinking coffee and discussing the move. “I have plenty of room, and all I ask is that you pull your own weight. Your mother took the housekeeper along with–“Edward interrupts.

“Yes dad I know, along with–“ Tony cuts him off.

“Hush Eddy, daddy is speaking. Along with my beloved corgi Jarvis who was like the son I never had”. Edward rolls his eyes, while you stifle a chuckle that earns a glare from Eddy, and a wink from Tony.

“Anyway,” Eddy starts, “We think it's a great idea dad, we’ll do it.” You internally groan at his use of we. What the hell does he mean we, you weren’t that out of it to not remember if he had asked you how you felt. There he goes again thinking about himself.

“There you go again thinking about yourself.” Tony mocks, once again pulling you out of your thoughts, as if he could hear them. “You didn’t even ask poor Y/N how she felt about all of this.” He turns his attention to you and starts, “Now I know your university is further away from my place, but I could provide you with a car–“ This time you interrupt.

“Hold on Mr. Stark, this is too much. We’re only three months into our lease, I don’t want to impose on you, and you shouldn’t be just giving cars out like its noth–“

“Y/N” Tony starts, holding eye contact with you, “…daddy is speaking”. You felt small because of what he just said, but in a good way. Your panties were getting wetter the longer he looked at you so you broke eye contact. Tony relished in your submissiveness. Eddy, as clueless as always brushed off his dad’s comment and decided it was just another one of his eccentric quirks, but you knew and Tony knew what he was doing. This is why you didn’t think it was a good idea to move in.

“And for the one thousandth time, you can call me Tony. Now where was I? Ah, you didn’t let me finish” he continues, “I could provide you with a car, or a driver, as long as you’re comfortable with it. I’ll never do something without running it by you to make sure its okay”. That there was the reason you loved Tony more than you would ever love Edward. Eddy rushed into things with no regards for your feelings, and when you voiced your worries or concerns he’d blame it on you for not telling him or guilt-trip you into just going with it.

Tony took his time with you. He was patient, and he tuned into how you perceived things. He was a real man. And if this was how he was with you now you could only imagine how attentive he would be to your other needs.

“Maybe we can work something out with your lease. I can continue paying your bills. That way if you guys need an escape away from me to fuck your brains out, its still there”. You cringed at that last part, which didn’t go unnoticed by Tony, who was always watching you.

You don’t sleep with Edward. Besides the fact that he was a cheater, he never made you cum. He was the type to chase his own nut at the sake of your own.

“I really think having young people around here would liven the place up.” Tony finished. “So what do you say kid, you wanna move in so we can have some fun?” Tony asked briefly raising an eyebrow.

His hands were clasped together on the table, while his long pointer finger taped his closed fist absentmindedly. His mouth was tucked in a firm smile and his honey brown eyes, which were focused on yours, were gleaming with hope. You smile back and brace yourself. How could you say no to this?

♡♡♥︎♡♡

Three months had passed since you and Ed moved in with his dad. While your relationship with Edward began to decay more than it already had, the one you had with Tony only blossomed.

You became more comfortable around him. The two of you would watch movies together, go grocery shopping with each other, cook, bake and sing embarrassing songs out loud without a care in the world. Your favorite part of your relationship however, was the late night conversations the two of you would have when you couldn’t sleep. They happened more often than sometimes. How in the world could you sleep, when the two of you were in such close proximity.

Naturally, your feelings for each other only grew stronger, which was exactly what you were afraid of. Though the two of you still had Edward to worry about, he never seemed to care about your budding relationship. He was too involved with himself or one of his latest escapades to notice the events unfolding in front of him. And if he did notice, he thought it was innocent. It was just his girlfriend and dad bonding.

Tony and you never discussed how you felt about the other, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. The only thing in your way was his son, but that was about to change since Edward’s ass-kissing began to work. His dad was finally about to give him a feel for how to run the company.

This of course meant more responsibilities, more control, and more time away from home. Tony couldn’t take it anymore. Part of him wanted to remain faithful to his son, but the other part couldn’t sleep peacefully knowing you were just a wall away. At least with Eddy being gone, he could see if the two of you could resist each other. He wanted to test himself, and see if he had really changed. And if he hadn’t, at least he would get you out of it. This was a good thing, he would tell himself. While Edward worked hard to prove he was worthy to his dad,Tony would work even harder to prove that he changed by forcing himself to resist you. If only you would make it that easy for him.

You were innocent enough, but that’s what drove him crazy. The way your knee would brush against him when you guys were sitting close watching a movie. Or when you would accidentally tap your foot on his when you sat across from each other at the dinner table. Don’t get him started on the way you’d look away from him, when you realize you said something that may have crossed the line. Anything you did would set him off, and he was beginning to regret sending Edward away.

“Y/N”, Tony shouts, trying to find out exactly where you were in the house. It was 2 p.m. and he had just got home from training Eddy. The car he brought you was still in the driveway so he knew you were home. “Y/N, could you come here for a second.”

“I’ll be there in a minute” You shouted back. You had just had a workout, as you usually spent your mornings in his home gym to relieve stress. You jogged into the kitchen where you had heard his voice earlier. Tony heard you bouncing through the hallways, but his focus was on the trash that you failed to take out this morning.

“I thought it was your turn to take care of the waste” He states, taking his glasses off before turning his attention to you. “Kid, we had an agree–“ He stops his rant when he realizes your risky attire. You had on a sports bra that accentuated your full breasts perfectly, and your track shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination. Your curly afro sat on your head like a crown, while a few stray pieces fell into your eyes like bangs. Your pecan-tan skin was currently glowing with a sheen of sweat from your previous workout. You looked like the Goddess Aphrodite hand-sculpted you herself.

“I can take care of it now, I’m sorry. I just got a bit distracted” You apologize.

“N-No, I can do it, besides these old bones need the exercise from the walk anyway” Tony stutters, patting his arms and averting his eyes. “You can continue whatever it was you were doing”. He excuses himself from the kitchen, but not without giving you one more lingered glance.

You smile to yourself, knowing you were the reason he was so flustered. Sweaty from your morning activities you decide to grab a shower. You jog upstairs, grab a towel and head into you and Eddy’s shared room to prep. Grabbing your bathroom essentials you quickly get naked, and wrap the towel around yourself. While reading a text, you walk towards the bathroom.

Not paying attention to where you were going, you crashed into Tony who was heading in from taking out the trash. The sudden contact was so hard that you had to catch your towel from falling and exposing your naked person.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going” you apologize, but when you look up at him, his expression is blank, only his eyes were a darker shade of brown than his usual soft honey.

A moment passed before he held you upright and patted your shoulders, “Just be more careful next time” he simply states. On that note he walks off towards his room, leaving you alone to be the one who’s flustered this time.

♡♡♥︎♡♡

About twenty minutes had passed since your little hallway accident. Tony had tried throwing himself into a book, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft you felt in his arms for the split second he got to hold you. Being so enthralled in his thoughts, the loud thud and the yelp that followed caused him to jump out of his skin.

Immediately running to your aid, he rushed to towards the bathroom to investigate the noise. Flinging the door open, expecting to find you bleeding out on the tub’s floor, he is surprised to see you on top of the counter, eyes wide in terror. The thud came from a fallen bathroom organizer. All of its contents were sprawled across the floor. Tony looked from you, to the mess, then back to you, silently demanding an explanation.

“I thought I saw a spider…but it was just a clump of my hair, I’m so sorry” You cried. He looked at you with tired eyes, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. You imagined what he must think of you.

How could such a smart girl, be so dumb, you thought. You felt so embarrassed. The circumstances almost made you forget the position you were in. Like before, nothing but a tiny towel to cover your soaking wet body. Tony didn’t know if he believed in God, but if there was one, he was testing him.

“It’s okay,” he began,

“Go put some clothes on, while I clean up this mess.”

“Tony I did it, so I should handle it” you try to argue, but like always he cut you off and insisted,

“This is my house, and you’re a guest. Now go do as I said.” He was firm with his words. So you hopped off the counter, and went to do as he said, face and neck hot from the embarrassment you just endured. You just wanted to lock yourself in your room until you gained the courage to face him again. Which is exactly what you did.

♡♡♥︎♡♡

Hours later, you woke up from a nap and found yourself growing hungry. Figuring that around this time of night Tony would be in his study, you venture downstairs in hopes of finding some food.

After eating, you fix yourself a snack and choose a movie. As of lately living with Tony, made you feel sexually frustrated, so you chose Fifty Shades of Gray thinking nothing of it. Edward would likely not be coming home tonight, since he usually blew off steam with a whore or two after work, and Tony was most likely settled in for the night. You would be all alone with your thoughts and fantasies. That was until Tony plopped himself down on the couch next to you.

“Watcha watching?” He teased in a childish manner, eyes glued to the screen.

“Um, Fifty Shades of Gray” you replied, immediately regretting your choice of entertainment. I mean it was a shitty movie, why were you watching it in the first place?

“Hmm interesting. You know believe it or not, I’ve never seen it. Mind if I watch it with you?” He asks, looking at you briefly before back to the screen.

“Well you can watch it, but I was just about to do some cleaning” you answer, standing to your feet.

“Are you kidding, that can wait. We always watch movies together, besides they’re better with company. Sit down.” He commanded, though he said it in a playful manner, his eyes challenged your own. You sit back down.

“Maybe we should watch something else, this movie is pretty terrible” you suggest.

“Silly girl, I just told you I haven’t seen it. Let me be the judge of that.” He insists. How the fuck were you supposed to escape this awkward ass situation?

“If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week” Christian declares to Anastasia, before leaning down to take a bite of her toast.

“I like the way this Gray thinks” Tony whispered.

You heard, him but you elected to ignore him. The two of you had tested the waters way too much today.

Shifting in your seat to make yourself more comfortable, your thigh brushes against his warm hand. You slightly jump further away, the gesture making you realize just how close the two of you were. Tony chuckles at your actions. He always loved making you squirm. You think he got off at how worked up you’d get.

“What’s funny?” You challenge, eyeing him because you were getting a little agitated at this point.

“Nothing” he simply replies, eyes never leaving the screen. The hand that you brushed against was now hanging over the edge of the couch, he had crossed his legs so that his foot rest on his knee, and there was smug look on the bastard’s face. He looked too comfortable with this shit.

You thought about all of the seats in the room. You even thought about all of the tv’s he had in his house. Why was this smug son-of-a-bitch sitting so close to you after everything that happened today? Did today’s events mean nothing to him? Did it only bother you? Maybe you only imagined that Tony had feelings for you.

“Look kitten, I know how sexy I am, but would you mind watching the screen instead of me?” Tony states, finally meeting your gaze. You hadn’t realized you were still staring, so you apologized, fell back in your seat and began browsing apps on your phone to distract yourself from your growing shame.

Fast-forward into the movie, and you guys come across your first sex scene. No matter who you were watching them with, sex scenes always felt uncomfortable to you. You thought of ways to escape the room. You reached into your popcorn bowl, and immediately found your way out. “I’m gonna go and get some more snacks.” You yell, jumping up to remove yourself.

“But there’s plenty of popcorn, how much do you need?” Tony argues, startled from your outburst.

“Well we could always use more, my stomach is like a black void.” You state before taking the half empty bowl, and running towards the kitchen.

Finally away from him and that wretched movie, you had minute to collect your thoughts. While you act like you’re doing something, you fail to notice the footsteps slowly approaching.

“What are you doing to me?” Tony questions, his sudden presence making you jolt away from the task at hand.

“Tony, you scared me” you sigh, grasping your chest. Thinking about his choice of words, you quirk your eyebrow and ask, “What does that question mean?” You’re genuinely confused about his random interrogation. He was leaning against the doorway on the other side of the kitchen. His gaze was currently fixated on your figure, eyeing you up and down. His dark hair looked like he had just ran a hand through it, and his arms were crossed forcing his muscles to bulge. He pushed himself off the wall and started towards you slowly, the closer he got the further you backed away.

“It means, why are you running around here half-naked one minute, then acting innocent the next? Hmm? Are you trying to test me?” He accuses.

“I don’t know what you–“

“Don’t act stupid Y/N.” Tony warns. “You’re a smart girl, and you know what you’re doing”. His voice is raised slightly, and though he isn’t the tallest, his height towers yours at the moment. “Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? You didn’t make it easy today.” At this point he had you backed in between the kitchen island and himself. He was close enough that you could smell his skin. A mixture of sandalwood and citrus assaulted your nostrils, and sent your mind into a blissful haze. He wasn’t lying, you knew exactly what you were doing. Even if it wasn’t intentional, your body craved him. It was as if the two of you were being pulled by a gravitational force towards each other. You just couldn’t help not being around him.

You stayed silent. Your only form of communication was the look you were giving him. As your doe-like eyes bore into his, your lips quivered with anticipation.

“Kid, you shouldn’t look at me like that.” He warned. Straightening himself, to appear more intimidating, he asks, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy” was all that you could say. You swear you didn’t mean to, but your body betrayed your better judgement. Would he believe you if you told him that?

“Oh fuck” he sighed, before throwing his self-control out of the window. His hands were on your face pulling your lips to his in a fevered manner. He licked your lips begging for entrance, and you immediately obeyed his request. Although his lips were softer than any you’d ever felt, they were rough against you, desperate to show you the months of pent-up sexual tension in one heated session. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed the area beneath your thighs, and lifted you on the island. You reached your hands up to his hair, to tangle your fingers in the almond strands pulling him closer in the process. You wrapped your legs around his waist to feel his hardening bulge against your entrance. He groaned at the gesture, holding your waist in his hands.

He pulled back for air, but it wasn’t long before he attached his lips to your neck. You tried to bite back a moan, but Tony being the arrogant prick he was sensed that, and took it as a challenge. He dug his fingers into your thighs, and slowly dragged them closer to the hem of your shorts tugging at them while simultaneously sucking hard on your neck. This action produced a whole slew of moans from you. Between the burn from the trails his nails made, and the spots he licked on your neck, you were in shambles. You placed one hand on the back of his neck, and used the other to claw at the fabric of his dress shirt. But then, he suddenly stopped.

You opened your eyes to figure out what had distracted him, when you saw he was focused on the phone beside you. It was vibrating and lit up to reveal a notification from a close friend. But the text wasn’t what Tony focused on. It was the lock-screen that Edward made you save of the two of you. Son of a bitch, you thought. Suddenly consumed with guilt, Tony removed your hands from his neck and shoulder.

“Sweetheart, we can’t do this. I’m sorry for coming on to you like that” He sighed, upset that he let things get this far.

“Tony please don’t stop, I’ll do anything you want,” You beg, grabbing at his shirt and tightening your legs around his waist “please just stay.” You plead.

“Maybe if you were never with my son, we could make this work, but you know that we cant. I’m sorry princess.” He unwraps your legs, and kisses your fingers before bringing your hands down to your sides. As he walks away, you shout,

“I don’t let him touch me.” He stops in his tracks, “You’re the only man I want inside of me. Please don’t go.” You pleaded one last time. It takes every bone in his body not to turn around and take you right there, but he continues walking, grabbing his keys and heading out the door, leaving you all alone.

♡♡♥︎♡♡

When he had left, Tony originally planned on going to a bar to drink his problems away, but he just couldn’t start the damn car. He opted on sitting in the driveway for two hours instead. He contemplated going on vacation for a few days to get himself together. Or maybe he could spend his days at the company like Edward did. He even thought about packing you up to run away with him to the Poconos. That way you’d be away from Edward, and away from judgmental eyes. But alas, the best thing to do would be to go inside, talk out your issues, and decide from there. So that’s what he would do.

When he entered the foyer, he immediately noticed the packed luggage in the entryway. It was yours. Oh hell no, he thought, she doesn’t just get to leave.

More determined than before, he marches upstairs ready to confront you and beg you to stay. If anyone was gonna leave, it’d be him since he started the situation. Just before he knocked on your door to speak with you, he stopped due to the faint noises he heard on the other side. Were you already talking to someone? No.

What he heard were needy pants and moans, and what he thought was his own name. Carefully opening the door slightly ajar, he peeked in to see you lying in bed. Your eyes were closed, and you had changed into an over-sized tee. Your hair was sprawled across your pillow, and your hands were busy at their own tasks. You had one underneath your shirt, toying with your nipples, and the other was underneath your panties finger fucking your hole.

This. This was his breaking point. A man could only take so much.

He burst into your room, alarming you so bad you leap out of your skin and sit up on your elbows. He began loosening his tie while he continued his stalk towards. He wasted no time crawling on top of the bed to hover above your face. He placed a hand beside your head to hold himself up, and then he ripped your drenched fingers out of your panties to examine them. Eyeing your slick digits, he pushed them into his mouth and slowly removed them, groaning from the taste.

“Is this all for me?” He whispers, loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t answer him because you were still stunned from his unexpected appearance. Growing impatient from your silence, Tony slaps your pussy, causing you to whimper. “When daddy asks you a question, he expects an answer, okay kitten?”

“Yes daddy” you choke out in a strangled moan.

“Mmm, good girl” Tony praises. He grabs your hips , and positions you so that you're face down while your bare legs dangle off of his lap.

“You know Y/N, you’ve been a very bad girl” Tony starts, as he takes off his tie. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson for being such a tease” As he says this, he wraps the fabric around your wrists, tightly securing it. He then proceeds to remove your panties. You can feel his dick getting harder. You squirm, placing your heat over his. “Don’t move.” He commands, before he places a hand on your ass, rubbing circles on it. “Now, be a good girl and count em for me.” Before you could protest, Tony delivers a harsh smack to your left cheek, you try to stifle the squeal that escapes your throat, which just makes him even more aggressive.

“Fucking count, and if you hold in another sound, it's only gonna get much worse.” He cautions.

“One” you cry. Smack, “T-two” the second blow was much harder than the last.

Eight smacks later, and you can finally end this torment. “Ten!” you cry out, voice shaking, and tears streaming down your face. By the time he got to ten, you were sure he’d left a handprint. Your tears stained the sheets, but he wasn’t done with you yet. He soothes the areas he smacked earlier with his hands. He leans down and begins to place kisses on your throbbing skin. You whine at the feel of warm lips, yearning for more, “I’m sorry about today Tony. Just please…no more teasing.” You beg, already dreading what he has in store.

Tony pauses to respond, “You’ve been saying sorry quite a bit today, kitten. But it’s not gonna work this time.” He soothes, ignoring your pleas.

When he’s done planting kisses, he takes two of his thick fingers to run between your sopping wet lips. He lightly brushes a finger against your clit, causing you to wiggle. “Look at daddy’s girl. So nice and wet, just for me.” He moves you both so that he’s face to face with your ass. “Such a pretty pussy.” he praises, in awe of how beautiful the sight before him is, dick growing harder by the minute. Fed up with waiting, he inserts his tongue into you. You taste even better than he had imagined. You fist the sheets underneath you, crying in bliss. You could feel the hair from his beard ticking the inside of your thighs. That, paired with the thick tongue inside of you, made you a moaning, writhing mess.

He’s biting and sucking on your lips, carefully making sure to collect all of your juices. His tongue occasionally darts between your folds, causing you to yelp and squirm. You can’t help bucking your hips backwards to relieve some of the tension. To focus better on your clit, he reaches one of his arms under your leg, and plants his hand on the area above your ass to hold you steady. He uses the other hand to finger fuck you while his tongue toyed with your clit.

Pushing yourself against his tongue was all that you could do since your hands were still tied, but Tony had a death-grip around your waist now.“Please untie me daddy, please I can’t take this anymore”, you whine, getting overwhelmed from the pleasure.

He comes up for air, and says “Since you asked so nicely princess.”, and with that, he flips you over so that you’re on your back, unties your wrists, then trails kisses down your body until he reaches your pussy again. He was hungry, and you were the only one who could satisfy him.

You tangle your hands in his hair, pull him closer to your mound, and start to grind yourself against his face.You were chasing your orgasm at this point and any kind of friction helped you get closer, but he didn’t seem to mind; it just turned him on even more. Tony begins sucking on your clit like his life depended on it. He used his fingers to stretch you open. First it was just one, then two, and now a third had you feeling full. Unable to stand the pleasure any longer, you began pushing him away. He placed an arm over your waist to restrain you. Still fingering you, he looked up to say, “Stay still. I’m just trying to make you feel good”. You throw your head back in response, moans roaring from your chest.

Even though you were just lying there, the sounds you made, and the way you tasted were setting him off. He wasn’t eating your pussy just to please you, he was doing it to please himself too. He started to hum into you, and the vibrations sent you over the edge. “Tony I’m so close” you cry, as you try to push him away one last time. The feeling was too new and foreign to you, “Fuck daddy, I’m cumming!” you screamed, just before you came all over his face.

He continues licking and sucking to help you ride out your high. Tears were clouding your vision. He finally comes up, meeting your eyes. He sits on his knees in between your legs, and begins to wipe away your tears. “You see the mess you made?” He questions, referring to his wet lips and fingers. You take the long appendages into both hands, and without breaking eye contact, place them in your mouth only to slowly remove them, repeating his actions from earlier.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he says more to himself than to you.

“Anything you want.” You reply.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you in awe. You take advantage of his silence, to get up and meet his level. You both just stare at each other for a moment. He’s the one to make the first move. You two share a slow and passionate kiss. He fights for dominance, and you obey him.

Your hands are placed on his shoulders to steady yourself. He rubs his hands up and down your sides, contemplating whether or not he wants to get rid of your baggy t-shirt. He decides he does. He breaks the kiss to pull the material over your head. He’s instantly met with your perky brown breasts, and the chocolate buds that grace the middle of them.

Grabbing your neck to pull you back in for a kiss, he begins palming at your chest. You move away from his lips to attack his neck. You slowly lick a stripe up towards his ear, biting the lobe when you meet it. Tony growls at the gesture, tugging your hair and making you whimper in the process. You continue endeavors, sucking and biting. You blow cold air over the bruises you make, which drives him crazy. He starts tugging at one of your nipples with and brings his free hand down to play with your clit again. You kiss your way passed his neck, to meet his collarbone. Before you can go any lower, he stops you.

“Not this time princess. Tonight is about you.” He coos, grabbing your chin up to meet your face. “Trust me we’ll have plenty of time for that in the future.” You can’t help the small smile that comes to your face at the mention of this happening again.

“Look at that pretty smile, I can never get enough of that.” He returns a smile to you, and begins unbuttoning his dress shirt. He stands up to pull the fabric off his shoulders, and tosses it to the other side of the room. You crawl over to him, and begin unbuckling his pants. “Impatient are we” he chuckles, cupping your chin. He bites his lip, turned on by how eager you are.

When you finish unbuckling, he pushes you back on the bed to finish releasing himself. His member is bigger than you imagined and you wonder if it will even fit.

“Get over here” he commands. You do as he says. He pulls you to the edge of the bed and lines himself up with your entrance. He teases you both by pushing himself between your folds to gather some lubricate. His head was big, so even that felt a little uncomfortable.

When he felt he collected enough wetness, he pulled back so that his tip aligned with your opening. “Do you want me stop?” He asks, sensing your uneasiness.

“No. Keep going” you respond, you’ve wanted this for so long, a little pain wasn’t going to stop you.

He eases his head into you, causing you both to let a string of obscenities. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight.” He growls, hunched over trying to ease the rest of himself in. Your mouth was wide open, and you didn’t breathe out of fear that you were gonna pop. Tears began to well up in your eyes. For one, you hadn’t been fucked in so long it felt like you were a virgin, and two, Tony had the biggest dick you’d ever taken.

“Sweetheart just relax for me” he urges, the veins in his dick were pulsating against the walls of your pussy. He would explode if he didn’t fuck you within the next two minutes. You try to do as he says. He reaches between the two of you, to apply pressure to your clit, which immediately makes you welcome him. He waits for you to adjust to his size. When he feels you clench around him, he pins your hands above your head, and starts to fuck you into the mattress. His strokes start off slow, but hard. He’s rolling his hips into yours, and his grunts and your moans are filling your ears. You shut your eyes, the pleasure beginning to overtake you. Tony reaches between you to pinch your clit. You yelp and fling your eyes open. “Don’t take your eyes off of me baby.”

He picks up the pace, and starts to fuck you faster. His hips are smashing into yours, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “You look so pretty with my cock stuffed inside of you.” He growls, “Who else fucks you like this, hmm?” He questions.

“No one, Tony” you whimper, relishing in his dirty talk.

“Better not be” , he warns before delivering a particularly hard thrust that makes you cry out in pain. “You look so good underneath me. Fuck!” He grunts. “Say my name, princess.”

“Tony” you whimper, which was apparently the wrong answer because now he’s fucking you at an inhuman speed.

He pinches your clit again, “Silly girl, thats not it. What’s my name?”

“Daddy!” you scream,

“Good girl” he grunts, before burying himself into your neck claiming your skin. He doesn’t give a fuck about Edward at this point. He’s fucking you in his son’s bed, and he wouldn’t even care if he caught the two of you right now. That would be his punishment for the way he treated you.

His hand still on your clit, his throbbing dick inside you, and even his bare chest rubbing against your nipples is enough to make you explode. “D-daddy I’m gonna cu-umm.” You stutter, your words becoming incoherent. The pleasure was so intense you couldn’t think straight.

“Cum on Daddy’s cock, kitten.” He whispers into your ear, sending you over the edge.

“Fuck!”, you screamed, when he kept fucking you even after you came. Tony was close too, his thrusts were becoming more inaccurate, and he began to pull out before you stopped him.

“Cum inside of me.” You begged, wrapping yourself around him.

And that’s when you see something in him snap. You didn't have to tell him twice. He kicks up the pace sending your body up and down against the mattress as he urges himself to give you what you both want.

And after one more thrust, he lets out a sound so animalistic, and spurts his seed into your sex. All you can feel is his hot cum filling you up, as you both come down from your highs.

Staying put for a moment, he looks down at you, both of you covered in sweat, and tired from tonight’s activities. You both are gasping for air, trying to catch your breath. Tony was usually a man who kept his composure, so to see him before you now, sweat rolling down his body, disheveled hair, gasping for air, completely fucked out, was a memory you hoped to never forget.

He finally decided to remove himself from you, and you instantly felt empty. He left the room for a moment, only to return in a pair of sweatpants. He also had a damp washcloth, that he used to clean you with. “Who knew you could be so sweet” you murmur grabbing your t-shirt off the floor to pull it over your head, before you push yourself under the covers of your bed.

“You’re right. Now I have to kill you.” He responds, making you giggle. He smiles, “That’s such a sweet sound.” He whispers. You stop smiling and avert your gaze.

“You don’t get to be shy now.” He says before crawling into bed next to you. You’re positioned so that your back is against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and you intertwine your legs with his. He nuzzles his face into your neck, and plants a kiss.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks, while playing with your hair.

“You just did, but I guess that’s not what you meant” you say, earning a nip to the ear. “Ow! What’s your question, stupid?” you ask, chuckling.

“Where were you gonna go? I saw your bags packed downstairs.” He asks.

“I was gonna go back to my old apartment.”

‘I need to stop paying for that right away’, he thought. “ Well what stopped you?” He pushes.

“I saw your car in the driveway and didn’t want you to try to stop me, so I just went back upstairs until you were gone. I guess I was still pretty horny from earlier.” you admit.

God, did he love this girl.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t ever think about leaving” he cautions.

“Me too…and I won’t” You start. Changing the subject you say, “You know…i’ve never done that before.”

“Done what?” He prods.

“Ive never came before.” You confess.

“Are you serious?” He half yells, making you jump slightly.

“Well yea, not even by myself.”

“So you mean to tell me, Edward never made you cum? I thought I raised him better than that.” He states, making you laugh.

“Well you two are completely different.”

“One could say, that it's a Stark contrast.” He jokes, laughing to himself.

“Remind me to never fuck a dad again.” You sigh, before turning around to give him one last kiss goodnight.

A/N: Please tell me what you think if you've gotten this far ;)! Like, reblog, comment. Also do not repost.

#Tony Stark Smut #Tony Stark x reader #Tony Stark x black reader #Marvel smut #black writer #new writers on tumblr #new writing blog

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bre-meister · 3 years

Note

I need some pre married/family angst

this is early relationship so pre-family and pre-married Cleon. I hope it’s angsty enough I kind of got distracted while writing to fight a huge ass hornet in my room ( I was super terrified ngl). This was such a journey for me to write that I don’t even have an official title for it like I normally try to do lol. This has also taught me that I need to work on angst that is not “person A and Person B fight”. Sorry for the rant here's the actual work:

Claire was mad. No, Claire was beyond mad. Claire Redfield was absolutely furious. Her rage was so blinding that she couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to the nice looking doorman as she barreled through the lobby of the apartment building of the object of said anger. She was sorry - felt the apology in her bones as soon as the smaller man began to cringe and cower slightly in her presence - but again, her anger prevented it from passing her lips.

Secretly, she did take a little pride in the fact that, as she entered the elevator, a young-looking couple decided to “wait for the next one” instead of sharing with her. It gave her a little more time to stew in her anger - pulling from the depths of her soul, every time that she had said it was okay even when it wasn’t - before she came face to face with him.

“What the hell Leon!”

The door to his apartment opened with such force that if circumstances had been different, she would have been worried about possibly putting a hole in the wall. Alas, her attention was not on the wall, but instead on the man lying on the couch in front of her. Leon was clearly either drunk or hungover. Although considering what she’d heard from both her brother - half the reason she was here in the first place - there was a distinct possibility it could be both. Claire wasn’t sure that could actually happen, but if anyone could make it a thing it would most definitely be Leon S. Kennedy.

All that came out of his mouth was unintelligible garble mixed in with a few pained groans. Claire took pleasure in that for a moment and allowed it to further stoke the flames inside of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do. She’d kind of just gone on autopilot after getting. Chris’s concerned texts. Apparently, Leon had been ghosting everyone over the last week. So, there she stood, upset and silent until Leon made the mistake of finally speaking real words.

“Red,”

Claire didn’t let him finish. She exploded,

“No! You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You don’t!”

Claire moved towards the couch and yanked off the blanket covering Leon with more force than was probably necessary. The blanket had apparently been completely wrapped around him and, in his current state, that was enough to cause him to tumble to the floor. He let out another grunt of pain as he landed but Claire didn’t care.

“Get your ass up.” Her voice had calmed, steadied to an even tone. Her anger no longer manifested itself in yelling, but instead as a low growl behind her words.

When he didn’t make any effort to move, she said it again,

“I’m not asking Leon. Get up.”

He finally did as told. Standing he slowly moved to the small kitchen behind the couch. There he found a glass that looked somewhat cleaned and began to fill it with water.

This wasn’t the first time that Claire had been there to pick up the pieces whenever Leon fell apart. Safe to say, those instances had never quite played out like this one and Leon was a little jarred and, admittedly, a little afraid of what the red-headed woman might do.

They stared at each other as Claire gave Leon a moment to swallow the little bit of water that was left in his glass. When he sat it in the sink and she remained silent he let his impaired brain convince him that meant he should speak.

“What’s your problem? Chris piss in your Wheaties this morning?”

The look on her face caused concern. The laugh that followed chilled him to the core. Leon S. Kennedy had faced down and won so many B.O.Ws that he had lost count but at that moment as he looked across the room at a laughing Claire Redfield, he knew that he had quite possibly signed his death warrant. He also knew that if this truly were how he died, several people would help her cover it up, and frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

“My problem?” she continued to laugh, “What’s my problem?”

Leon was getting a little nervous. In yet another mistake, he even let out a few nerve filled chuckles himself.

“No, you don’t get to laugh! This isn’t funny,” and yet she was still laughing.

Leon was not.

“Do you know why this isn’t funny? Because I don’t think you do.”

He couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to - Claire cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to fumble through some bullshit excuse.

“You don’t. I know you don’t because if you did you would have had your ass at the restaurant last week, Leon!”

Leon felt his stomach drop. Oh no. He really had fucked up this time.

“Sherry’s birthday.” He felt more than heard the mumbled words slip past his lips.

“Ya, Sherry’s birthday,” Claire turned around to finally close the door and Leon took the opportunity to sit down in one of the few chairs at his tiny kitchen table.

“You know, I was okay with this when it was only me you were fucking over. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I told myself over and over that it was fine, you needed this time, you needed me and I was more than happy to give it to you - everything. I give you everything! But it was okay because you were always there for me too. Most of the time at least. And I get it, Leon, hell I get it more than probably anyone else. What we went through was hell, no one should have to go through that once let alone as many times as you do. But I was there too, I have to deal with that shit too. Sherry has to deal with that shit. She was Twelve Leon.”

“I know -”

“Then where the fuck were you? This was all she wanted! All she asked for for her birthday was for all three of us to be there, together and you couldn’t even get your shit together enough to give that to her. No call, no text, not even a half-assed excuse just nothing. The hurt and disappointment on her face - I’ll never forget that Leon. And to top it off, I had to cover for you and as much as I love you,” she saw that way his whole body seized up at her words, “I’m tired. I refuse to do that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Claire pulled at her hair which, for once, wasn’t in its usual ponytail.

“Stop! It’s always sorry with you. For once could you just stop!”

“Stop what? Tell me what I have to do to fix this.” He was desperate. He didn’t want to lose her or Sherry. The idea of that - of finally being completely and utterly alone - was almost too much to bear.

“For starters stop making promises if you know you can’t keep them. Stop overcommitting yourself. Stop overworking yourself because that’s always how you get this way in the first place. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?” he was a little puzzled. He may have also been on the verge of tears but, if anyone asked later he would deny it vehemently.

“Like...like I just killed your puppy or - or like I’m taking away everything from you - it’s making it really hard to stay mad!”

In any other situation, he might have laughed at that but he had sobered up enough between when Claire had burst through his door and now. Now, he really did feel that Claire leaving here like this, Sherry being disappointed with him - that truly was as if everything were being taken away from him.

“I’m sorry. I - I don’t know how to make you believe that I am, but I truly am sorry. I would never hurt you, Claire. I would never hurt Sherry.” He was pleading at his point. He didn’t know what else to do.

“But you did. You hurt us Leon, and I’m not saying that I won’t forgive you, but it’s going to take some time. You fucked up and your usual ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it when we always end up in the same cycle again.” She sighed and as the air left her body she could feel all of her anger leaving as well only to be replaced with immense sadness and disappointment.

Claire turned and walked towards the door. A small clang echoed through the silent room and, although Leon couldn’t see from his spot in the kitchen, he knew that Claire had dropped her spare key on the table next to the door.

“Wait! Claire, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what Leon?” She didn’t turn around, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. So, head down she gathered her strength and continued,

“Don’t leave? Give me a reason to stay then.”

“ I love you.” It came out in a soft whisper.

Those three simple words - the first time he had ever said them to her in a non-platonic way. They made her heart soar and ache, both at the same time. She’d imagined this moment a lot but never like this. Never at the end of a fight that had been building for a long time. Never with her back to him, preparing to leave. Never with him sitting in his kitchen, a mess, crying in a way she’d never seen from him. Never like this. And, as much as she wanted to stay…

“ I love you too Leon. But that’s not what this is about. Call Sherry, she deserves to hear from you why you couldn’t do this one thing for her.”

With that, she left. With her, Leon felt a part of him leave as well.

The tears turned to outright sobs as he collapsed on his kitchen floor - dirty. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. He hadn’t cleaned or showered in a while but it was kind of fitting. His apartment was dirty, his clothes were dirty, his body was dirty but he was dirty in a way that was deeper than just the physical sense.

He’d let them down. The only two people in this world that he still gave a damn about. The only two people he would try for.

Then why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he pushed himself harder? In the same sense, why hadn’t he taken a break when he had pushed too hard. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? Why hadn’t he?

There were too many questions. If he left himself to ponder them for too long he’d never get up from this dirty kitchen floor and he couldn’t afford to stay here forever. He had business to attend to, phone calls to make.

First, to his job. Claire was right, he needed to stop overworking himself and he’s acquired more than enough hours to take some time off. Then, to Sherry, because he owed her an apology in more than just words. He only hoped she would allow him to make it up to her.

He wanted to call Claire - show her he was trying, that she was right and he would do better. However, he knew that would probably only make things worse. She always gave him the time he needed, now it was time for him to do the same.

But before anything, he had to get up off the floor. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. Leon was tired of the blood and grime that seemed to fill almost all of his waking hours as D.S.O Agent Kennedy. He decided he wouldn’t let it follow him home anymore. So, Leon got up.

On his way to the bathroom he passed by the bowl he kept on his front table by the door. It was a housewarming gift from Claire who knew he was always misplacing his keys and yet never making an effort to get more organized. Always looking out for him, his Claire.

Leon wouldn’t even let himself question if there even was a ‘his Claire’. Not that he owned her, no one could ever own Claire Redfield. But, looking at the two keys laying together in the bowl, Leon couldn’t help but think they were the same - a matching set. One complementing the other in a way that, while they were separate, they were still part of the same.

Yes, Leon Kennedy got up and as he looked at his dirty face in the mirror, he turned the faucet on because he was tired of being dirty. He was ready to get clean.

#Cleon #Cleon fic #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #claire x leon #Claire/Leon #angst #resident evil #i wanna make my angst better so please hang with me until i do #sry for the long wait #sry again for the long ass rant at the beginning im super tired and it's kinda late but I wanted to post anyway #lol i'm doing it again

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mirrorforevers · 4 years

Text

the wrong side of the bed • damon albarn/reader

smut with feelings, i guess. sorry if is this is too long – this prompt excited me too much. i hope you guys like daft punk - though this is not a songfic, but you’ll get why - and i promise i’ll write something not involving sadness and alcohol someday. this is unbeta’ed, and english is not my first language, so have mercy

thank you so much for the music teacher prompt, anon! hope you enjoy it x also, just in case you haven’t read my graham/reader fic yet, here it is too.

tw: unprotected drunk sex

word count: 4.477

Music has been a very important escape mechanism for you recently. Your job has been hellish, and getting your degree has also been a chore - in the midst of so many deadlines and professional disappointments what has been a light for you is Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your dad.

You detail these little “buts” as a mantra whenever the subject is him, whether in internal monologues or when you talk about him with your close friends. You never really believed in relationships between two people of very different ages, and you felt like you needed to remember those details whenever you could to keep that completely carefree crush from becoming something you couldn't control.

You started taking classes with him every Saturday after you were cast on your city’s production of a musical. You knew it was a very small step for a career in the industry, but it was very significant for you. You were exhausted from any activity that involved learning given how tired you were from college, but learning music with Damon was definitely something that you didn't even place in the same mental category. It was with him that you vented about how your week was, how you missed your parents who lived absurdly far away from you, it was with him that you shared the small victories of the day-to-day that were too insignificant even to share with your longtime friends. Which is funny, since this symbolic relationship was built in a matter of 2 months. Damon, in the beginning, was very reserved and “gray”, and it was amazing how in a matter of such a short time he shown himself to be someone so energetic, observant and empathetic; although a little bit of a control freak sometimes. When the wild waves of life seemed to take you everywhere at the same time and left you lost, despite so little time in your life, Damon became a constant.

And it worries you.

What are you going to do when the money to pay for his classes runs out? Certainly, although significant, what you had seemed to be was, above all, a friendship of convenience. You were very different people, with very different aspirations, and especially at very different points in life. As much as you liked each other *as friends* and considered yourselves people you wanted close by, Damon had a well-lived life to sustain. He would not have time much less willpower to listen to your complaints and insecurities in a context that did not involve an exchange relationship. At least, that's what you thought.

Saturday was also one of the two days you could wake up late, so in addition to having a rare time for your leisure, you were able to rest at least a little more than normal. That particular morning, you noticed that there were two missed calls from Maggie on your cell phone. Maggie was one of the producers of the musical. She used to bring you very decisive and very good news. If she called you, you did whatever it took to answer her right away. An unbelievable wave of anxiety takes over you. “Hello, Mags, you called?” You say, excited, but very nervous. Dealing with people who have your dreams constantly in their hands is somewhat stressful. You bite your nails.

“Hey, Y/N, yes. Um. You okay?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking. What happened?” You notice that Maggie's tone is different. The funny thing is that everyone is always so apathetic in the artistic world, and Maggie was the only person you knew so far that showed any kind emotion.

“So… you were dropped.”

Ah.

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“You… were dropped. We made some changes here and there and you won’t be on our show anymore. If anything changes again, we’ll call. I promise.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Good luck, kid.”

Um.

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you feel like you've been punched. Maybe you've been wrong all along.

My God. My God. My God.

You feel like your entire world has collapsed around you. There aren't even reasons for you to keep going to class. All that effort and money spent... are now in the trash.

Artists spend a lot of time investing in themselves. You always have to become better. Faster. Learn techniques. Reinvent yourself. Stay beautiful. And you don't believe that in your first real experience in this world... that happened. Most likely a friend of the director took your place.

My God.

You swallow the tears, after all, you told everyone you knew that you knew how this world worked and you wouldn't be shaken if something like this happened. No one is watching you right now - but you still feel that you would disappoint them if you cried.

But you couldn’t smile anymore. Nothing could take away your expression of shock and uncertainty.

Not even funny posts on Reddit. Not even funny memes sent by your friends in the morning.

Nor the message from Damon confirming the class of the day.

I won't be able to go today ☹, you type, and you erase it.

Hey, I got dropped from the musical. you type, and you erase it.

How are you doing? Definitely not.

I’ll be there! 😅 You hit send.

Hope we finally figure out that bloody solo, he replies.

You do not answer.

You change your clothes, without your motivational playlist playing in the background this time. The beginning of a great plan going on in your life was no longer there. You didn't even pick up your headphones and the subway ride was completely silent, except for the ambient sound.

You arrive at school, and Damon welcomes you with the usual tight hug, and wide smile. You give a yellow smile in response, and he immediately realizes that something is out of place. “Is everything okay?” His expression quickly changes to one of concern. Your stomach drops even lower. Maybe it hit the ground by now.

“I…”

You don't want it to end. Your dream ended, but not this, too. This cannot end. “Can we try another song today? One not from the musical?” You ask, exasperated.

“Uh… I mean-”

“Please?”

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?" He laughs nervously. “But... the musical’s why you’re here. I’m confused--”

“I know, but pretty please?” You insist, cringing by now to keep from crying.

“Um. Sure – but did something happen? Tell me. I’m-I’m here to help.”

“I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Please.” You feel your voice weaken more and more. You don’t wanna cry, though your eyes are already burning. “Please, Damon.”

“Right. Okay.” He says, raising his hands in defeat. He starts collecting his material.

“What are you doing?”

“No class today. Something clearly happened and we need to talk it out.”

“I-I got sacked. But there’s no need to…”

“I got it. C’mon. I’m not a monster, I won’t charge you for talking it out. All we’ve worked for… fucking cunts.” There’s the visceral side of him. “You gotta tell me how it happened.”

“Okay.”

He only leaves your two chairs in place.

After you two sit, he starts. “This happens quite a lot in this world. And every student reacts the same.” Though this sounds a little too insensitive, you imagine it’s the truth, and his tone does the job of conveying his compassion. “Did they call you? Or did you find out through somewhere else, like Patti LuPone?”

“Huh. At least they called me. They just straight up told me I’m no longer in the cast.” You say, totally not comforted by that. But it would be even worse if you found out by other means. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Don’t let your spirit be broken by that – you’re really talented, and I don’t like paying compliments. You know that.”

“Talent is not enough sometimes. That’s also something you’ve said to me before.”

He goes silent, and you start apologizing in the same instant.

“No, no, you didn’t hurt my feelings.” He interrupts you. “That’s true. But you’re really young, I shouldn’t have said that to you. Shit like that happens all the time. We learn a lot from it and you have your entire life ahead of you. That was… limited of me.”

“I know I’m almost getting my degree, and there’s other things for me to do… but fuck. I-- I really wanted that. You know how much.”

“I do. I also know exactly how you’re feeling now. We’re always so excited when this kind of thing happens. We plan our entire lives based on that one fragile and uncertain plan, and then boom, it’s gone. We always count on the fact that we’ll eventually have to decide between our career and something else when the choice comes, but what do we do when it doesn’t come? I know how that feels. Also--”

He grabs his guitar. You roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you have a song for that.”

“I don’t.” he answers. “But I do have a story to tell you.”

For the next two hours, he tells you all about a very ambitious audiovisual plan that he tried to engage in his early 30s. Among countless questions and answers, Damon Albarn showed you through his history how very determined he really was. He goes into the most minute details about the ideas he had for a film and several concept albums for a virtual band that, in your opinion, sounds like something very innovative and, at the same time, incredibly palatable to the mainstream. You thought that the band he was part of when he was even younger was already very wronged because, from what you heard from the demos, they were really incredible, but the fact that such a project didn't go ahead ... just proved to you more and more that talent sometimes really wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn't admire that man more.

“So, believe me when I say I know how that feels.” Goddamn. He looks at his clock, and almost jumps at how the time flied. “Bloody hell, I have another student in like, 5 minutes.”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This is a tale very few people know about. I’m glad I shared it with you.”

“…That had potential. Don’t give up on it.”

“Don’t give up on your plans either. I really mean it when I say you’re talented as fuck.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the dried tears and puffy eyes. You say your rushed goodbyes. But before can you leave the room, he holds your arm. “Wait. I know it’s hard, but don’t spend the rest of the day thinking about it. Do you want to do something tonight?”

“Uhhh—what you have in mind?” You can’t believe your ears.

“I don’t know. Do you drink?”

“More than I should.”

“Perfect. So I know a place we can go. Any preference of hours?”

“After 7 pm, I guess?”

“Works for me. I’ll send you the address soon then.” He says. You stand still, frozen, still processing what just happened. He’s blinking as if he just told you how’s the weather outside. “Now you can go.”

“O-kay. See you in a few hours then, Damon.”

“See you in a few hours, Y/N.”

You tried to hide your excitement, in vain. You smiled like an idiot.

This was one of the scenarios of your daydreams when you were walking around, talking quietly to yourself. Damon Albarn, your newly divorced music teacher who is old enough to be your father, just asked you out. You don't care if it was pity. After such disappointment, you allow yourself to create a little more of that stupid, inconsequential hope that your life would take an exciting turn for the first time.

He sends you the address a few hours after your class/conversation, when you were starting to get ready to meet him. It was a pub that you already knew well, and had visited with some friends in the past. You choose a dress that has become your “uniform” recently, for valuing your body type well and for translating your style in a way that is both stylish and very comfortable. When you finish getting ready, you take a deep breath. There is a world of difference between what you wanted to happen and what you think will happen. But you do not care.

The tragic call you received in the morning barely crosses your mind on your way to the pub.

Upon arriving, you find Damon - always so punctual - sitting in the corner of the lounge fiddling with his cell phone while he takes a few sips of a drink that you have no idea what it is made of. You never took him for a complex drink guy. He is really full of surprises. You feel slightly self-conscious out of a sudden, stomach churning in anticipation. He raises his eyes, and his gaze meets yours. His usual welcoming smile makes all your worries go away. You couldn’t help but smile wide too.

“Hello there. A stark contrast to this morning’s Y/N.” He notes, looking you up and down after you two share a tight hug, that smile still there.

“My plan tonight is to forget everything that happened before we talked, okay? Just let me forget about the call!” You answer, playfully, trying to pretend you weren't in the least ... affected ... by the way he received you.

And the time you spend together goes as usual. It’s amazing how there’s no space for awkward silences between you two. To one thing you tell him, he brings you three more things to tell, and vice-versa. You two just… click. You make each other laugh, and even if things don’t go the way you daydream about, which is totally okay, given that he’s twice your age and you’re not sure if you can handle the implications that age difference has, you’re glad to call him a good friend. He’s amazing, and you’re having a great time with him.

By your fourth beer and his fifth fancy drink, your conversation enters a territory that hasn’t been truly explored by you two yet. His romantic past. You only knew he was divorced because he mentioned it very vaguely one day, nothing else. You didn’t know why, who was her, or when. But apparently, he was about to tell you.

“We were both really… young… and didn’t have a clue of what we were doing with our lives. She was a musician too, Justine. Not anymore.”

“Because of what happened between you two?” You ask, the beers gradually taking the indiscretion filters out of you.

“Maybe. I don’t know. She seemed tired of everything. She wanted a life I’m not sure I would be able to live. I also pressured her a lot, I tried to create a version of her that somehow fitted all my expectations and, long story short, we weren’t right for each other. But I still think she’s incredible. I still admire her a lot. Not sure how she feels about me though.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

“Oh, no. There’s a big difference in admiring someone and being in love with them, kid.”

After that sentence of his, for the first time that night, an uncomfortable silence hangs between you - Instant Crush, by Daft Punk, almost ironically, starts playing on the pub's speakers. You feel like you're in a movie.

You're still a kid, aren't you?

“Definitely.” You finally answer him, finishing 70% of the bottle in a few gulps. You become a bit more lightheaded after that, and your eyes start to struggle to focus. You try to hide how slurred your voice wants to sound. “I confess I still don’t know how to really differentiate between the two.”

“Oh yeah?” His wistful tone gives place to one of amusement. “You never told me about your exes. Feel free to.”

“This is not about them.”

He turns to you, after a one-sided staring competition with his own cup. His voice is calm, and somehow even deeper, when he asks you: “Then who is this about?”

You gulp. The cramped space you were sitting on somehow feels even smaller. And hotter. You feel drops of sweat sliding on your belly. You’re sitting by his side, not in front of him, and that interaction feels almost… primal. You two are trapped by a huge table in a corner very few people can see.

“I think I need to go to the loo.”

He lets you, and you feel his eyes following you to the restroom.

My God. My God. My God.

You take a much longer time to do everything than you really need while reflecting on the dialogue you just had. You feel the ground is starting to spin, and the desire to sleep on literally any place grow. You’re drunk. And confused. And anxious.

You spend some good minutes staring at your own face in the mirror before you return to your table. He’s still in the moment, judging by the contemplative look on his face. This is the point of no return.

This is no movie – this is a fucking RPG.

“It was full,” you justify.

“Yeah, it’s always pretty crowded in there.”

That goddamn awkward silence again. You try to talk at the same time, but he wins.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “It’s… about a guy. He’s a…current… thing. Not from the past.”

“Right.” His tone is serious, more teacher-like than he has even acted while actually teaching you.

“I met him through an ad. I was looking for music teachers in my area and I found him. He had a fair price.” He was now smiling in disbelief, shaking his head. You’re both tipsy and you don’t care if your words are slurred anymore.

“And?”

“I have classes with him every Saturday. It’s the event of the bloody week for me. I can’t believe I’m saying that now because at first he seemed quite intimidating and not open to any meaningful interaction. Like, all frowns and monosyllabic answers and all.” You steal his drink, and he’s not even bothered. “We talk a lot, and even though we talk every day I somehow always thought he didn’t give a fuck about me when we were out of class. That he only saw me as a student, not as a friend, you know? I think about that chap every single day too. He’s handsome--like. Fuck. And he pays attention to everything I say. He’s always so nice to me, he makes me feel welcome. A part of… something.” You take a few more sips, and he gently takes the drink out of your hand, mouthing an ‘enough’. “He’s old enough to be my dad and I feel guilty for thinking of him that way. He invited me for drinks when my world fell so I could get my mind out of the shambles my life’s in and I almost died because I’m madly in love with him for a while now, but I don’t want to ruin everything. I don’t know what to do now. People shouldn’t start things thinking of how they’re going to end, but, you know?”

“They should, though. He’s indeed too old for you. And your life isn’t in shambles.”

“But…”

“Everything sounds pretty lovely in theory, but, he’s probably thinking that he’s going to slow you down in a way. You’ve got too much life to live. He’s probably really tired of everything he’s already lived.”

“But I love him. He makes me laugh! I don’t wanna have children.” You whine.

He muffles a laugh. “It’s not that-“

”Please take me home tonight.” You plead; your tone more serious now. “I know what I’m doing, I know where I am. Just please take me home.”

“Y/N…”

“Please, Damon. If you don’t feel the same then fine, call me an Uber and I’ll get over it.”

That triggers something in him, apparently, and he kisses you deeply and intensely. His hands caress your back and the whole kiss, though a little disjointed because of the state you’re both in, is full of affection and love. His lips taste of strawberry vodka, and your mind is spinning.

When your lips part, you stare at each other for a while, thousands upon thousands of thoughts per second, unsaid. “Are you sure you wanna come with me?” He asks, kissing your hand.

“Yes. I am.”

After he fumbles with his keys, you’re finally in his apartment – it’s surprisingly nice and tidy. Judging by how carefree he’s with his looks, you imagined that characteristic would overflow to other aspects of his life.

From the Uber drive home to his door, his hand never left yours.

He locks the door, and you stand staring intently at each other, sizing each other up like men before a fight. This time, you start the kiss, with a little less hurry than before. But the desire is still burning hot on both of you.

“Do you have any idea of what you’re doing to me?”, he murmurs, discarding his jacket while he does his best to not break the kiss. You take this as a signal to start taking off your clothes too, starting by kicking off your shoes. It has become a choreography of sorts - his hands grasp your buttocks and pulls you closer after you’re done with them, drawing a gasp from you.

“I wanted you for so long.” You reply, your hands exploring his body below the fine fabric of his shirt. You motion to take it away from him, and he lets you, completely entranced by how red your lips look from everything it went through. He guides you to his sofa, quickly adjusting it so it’s comfortable enough and serves as a bed for both of you.

He lies down first, eagerly waiting for you to stay on top of him. You finally do, and you feel like a goddess from the way he looks at your body. You take off your dress, and now you’re almost fully exposed to him. You have no bra on, and his hands immediately travel to your breasts, fingers running tantalizingly over your nipples to get them stiff and erect before he pinches them between his fingers, smiling at the whimper his actions elicit. You start bucking your hips on the rough fabric of his trousers, and you feel him harden below you. “God, you’re… something else.” he whispers, and you respond with another whimper, biting back a full on moan when your clit hits the perfect spot. You separate your legs a little further so you can feel him better, drawing a groan from him. He takes this a signal to take his jeans off, eyes not leaving your hips.

Now that a distance of an entire layer is shortened between you, the contact is even more intimate, and the bulge of his cock straining against his underwear is driving you mad. You’re aching for him. He brushes against you and your moan is higher than you expected, and you immediately cover your mouth in order not to wake up his neighbors. As he feels the wet heat of you around his painfully hard cock, he takes your hand out of your lips, grip then tightening on your hips as he pushes you down right on to him. Your moan is even louder. “Let them hear.”

“Fuck-Damon-I’m getting so close--” As if you just gave him a command, his hands now grab the flesh of your inner thighs, massaging them further and further up until he reaches the center of your arousal, and the sound you make when he pulls your panties to the side and runs his finger between your folds while still grinding against you is somewhere between a whine and a whimper. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, voice rough from how excruciatingly aroused he is. “Come for me, baby.” Your clit was more exposed now, pressed more tightly against him and you whine in relief when your orgasm finally floods through your body.

Before you could fully recover, he finally frees himself from his underwear and, with your help, effortlessly aligns himself with your (quite ready) entrance. You bury your head in his neck the moment he enters you in one swift motion and your moans are almost like cries by now - the overstimulation is driving you insane. You take his face on your hands and give him a passionate kiss while he gradually picks up a merciless pace inside of you, the more heated the kiss becomes the more shamelessly you ride his cock. “Shit,” he mutters, massaging your breasts in an almost desperate way. It’s too much - you’re almost becoming one.

You could tell by how frantically he fucked you now that he wasn’t going to last much longer. His thrusts were becoming irregular and you were so close once again. His head falls forward, buried in between your neck and shoulder - his cock twitches inside of you and his movements become staccato, his mouth curving into a beautiful ‘o’ shape as he comes inside of you. His movements stop before you could reach your second one, but the entire situation you were on was so arousing to you that just by touching yourself while still feeling him inside was enough. Not letting you alone in this, one of his hands focus on one of your nipples while the other one is below yours, providing pressure above your clit. And like that, you come undone a second time, head above his shoulders.

For a few minutes, your panting was the only thing that could be heard inside of the apartment.

“Thank you. You were amazing. ’s been quite a long time.” He notes with a tender kiss on your forehead. After a while, and with much reluctance, he slides out of you, and gets up to fetch a warm, wet cloth and carefully clean you both, finally collapsing next to you with a groan.

“It was everything I expected.” You confess, smiling.

“Did you… think about me like that when you…?”

“Of course. But let’s save this talk for another Saturday.”

#damon albarn #graham coxon #alex james #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #fic #prompt #au #smut #damon x reader #damon albarn x reader

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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years

Text

Lovely (Ethan x F!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,100+ Warning: Adult language Premise: Adding her on social media was a dangerous mistake. Particularly when she posts a picture looking like that. Tags: @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies |

___________________________

“Post, post, post!” her roommates chanted with alcohol fueled enthusiasm.

Lilac, the least drunk of the group, though not by a lot, peered at her friends quizzically. They were sprawled on different parts of their living room, gazing at her with glazed eyes and sloppy smiles. In her own drunken state, she wondered how the night turned from board games and drinks to Lilac spilling her guts about Ethan following her on social media. Of course, she had left out his name and so her roommates only surmised it was some new flame she was interested in.

God, she wanted him with such desperation that it physically hurt sometimes. If she hadn't had several drinks, she'd feel miserable and somewhat pathetic.

“You guys don't even know who this guy is,” Lilac returned and she realized immediately that was not entirely true. As the words left her mouth, Sienna and Elijah shared a massive, knowing grin. Lilac's face flushed at the memory of running into them while trying to sneak Ethan out all those months ago.

Luckily, Aurora and Jackie were too drunk to notice the exchange.

“It's that Lahela guy, isn't it?” Aurora offered.

“Not likely,” returned Jackie at once. “Lilac said this guy was good-looking and smart.” She instantly wrinkled her nose, looking far more dejected than was warranted. “It's a lot more fun when he's here to hear me insult him.”

“That one was weak,” Elijah commented with a laugh, elongating the last word. “If he was here, he would've destroyed you with a comeback.”

Before Jackie could reply, Sienna leaped up from her place on the rug and plopped down next to Lilac on the couch. “I know what picture you should post,” she exclaimed excitedly, brandishing her phone in front of Lilac's face. A blur of green was all she could see as Sienna waved the phone. “Remember that green dress you bought for your cousin's wedding before they called it off?”

“Let's talk about that for a second,” Aurora said with renewed interest.

Sienna didn't seem to hear this because she went on, “The one with the neckline and the slit?”

Lilac remembered. She also remembered the picture she had sent Sienna to show it off. Lilac standing in front of a body-length mirror clad in the forest green number, phone strategically positioned to cover her face so the emphasis would be on the plunging neckline and on the shapely leg escaping from the slit.

“That dress could kill a man,” Sienna said approvingly as they both inspected the picture on her screen. “It's equal parts classy and also—”

“Slutty?” Lilac offered. It was how she described her style on most days and she was far from ashamed of it.

“If he wasn't in such great shape, you'd give the poor man a heart attack. I'm sure Eth—” she started but abruptly stopped when she remembered the others. One nervous glance around told Lilac they were not listening anyway. They were busy filling Aurora in on the drama of the canceled wedding. Sienna lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I'm sure your mystery guy will love it. He was all over you when you wore that navy blue dress in Miami.”

Perhaps it was the memory of that night and his kisses on the balcony, or the alcohol coursing through her, or maybe the way her heart pined for him every time their eyes met, wishing desperately they could do more, that made Lilac say, “Fine, I'll post a—”

“Thirst trap,” Elijah chimed in with a cheer.

They all laughed out loud, even Lilac. Another indicative that they should really stop drinking for the night. The semi rational part of her brain reminded her that she should've stopped drinking when posting a provocative picture with the most basic pose imaginable in hopes of entrapping a man that might not even be watching seemed like a good idea.

With a burst of courage and recklessness, Lilac found the picture, wrote a ridiculous caption that would make her hungover self tomorrow morning cringe, and pressed "post" before they could spend another twenty minutes discussing her predicament and before the chanting resumed.

_________________________________________________

The account was supposed to be strictly for a one-time use. Ethan had planned to delete the damned thing as soon as Gwyneth's case had been solved and treated. Wasn't that part of the reason why he had allowed Lilac to use that ridiculous picture of him at the beach? It was meant to be a gag, something that would never see the light of day.

Yet, he had found himself gravitating towards the tab left open on his laptop every time he used it. His subconscious had equated the inane website with learning more about Lilac. And despite his many attempts to convince himself that he shouldn’t care, he did. She was the only person he had ever wanted to learn more about, with such a desperate conviction that would be alarming to her if he ever confessed.

He cared so deeply that the word “care” did not properly describe the unbridled longing in his chest. One did not flee to the Amazon for two months to escape “care.”

Ethan pushed that dangerous thought away.

“Thirty minutes, Ethan,” Reggie said from the doorway to the bar. It was his usual way to inform him how long it’d take him to clean-up and thus the amount of time Ethan had left to enjoy his drink in blissful solitude.

He was alone, typically how he enjoyed drinking, yet he found no peace. Memories of the last time he was at that very beer garden with her accosted his thoughts. The way her bright green eyes looked startling in the golden lights floating all around and the feel of her soft lips on his.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled out his phone and opened the app. His weakness was such that he had figured out how to download the damn app on his phone. It was almost comical that now he could look at her whenever and however long he wanted on a screen, as if she wasn't inhabiting his mind at every hour.

Ethan was determined to find his favorite post, a picture of her at that very bar, taken a few months ago by her friend, Dr. Trinh. Before he could, however, his eye caught a notification from the app itself.

“Pictagram: dr.allende just shared a new post.”

It was time stamped one hour ago. Ethan briefly commended himself on going a whole hour without staring at her face like the pitiful stalker he was becoming. Before he could feel ashamed and pathetic, he opened her new post and almost choked on his drink.

“Fuck,” he murmured into the quiet night, setting his glass down on a side table nearby. Without realizing it, he sat much straighter on the outdoor sofa.

His eyes desperately roamed every inch of the image, unsure where to settle. There was the expanse of her exposed leg, or the dangerously plunging neckline of her dress, the casual sway of her hip. His hands had clutched on to those hips, fingers digging slightly into her skin as they both lost themselves to unmitigated pleasure.

It was downright criminal how good she looked in the picture, exposing enough to drive a man insane but not enough to be crass. Apparently, he was not the only one to think so. In the mere hour the picture had been up, it had already accrued 220 of those "likes" Lilac had explained.

Ethan continued to stare at the picture like a starved man. It took everything in his power not to call her and somehow convince her to take him back, his morals and conviction be damned. That was the power Dr. Lilac Allende and her green dress wielded over him.

The distant clanging of bottles startled him out his thoughts so abruptly that Ethan almost dropped his phone. He caught it quite unceremoniously and as he turned the screen back to him, he noticed a red heart animation appearing and disappearing in the middle of her picture.

"Shit," he muttered when he realized he, too, like the 220 others had "liked" the picture. Upon further inspection, he realized he had even accidentally commented the single letter "I".

A bit frantic, he tapped at his phone to figure out a way to get rid of the damn thing. He could not bear Lilac learning he leered at her picture at 1 AM and was so affected he could barely type a coherent sentence. Even if that was a hundred percent true. Ethan was getting nowhere, except to an early grave, when a text message notification came in.

“Like what you see?”

It was Lilac.

Goddammit, she had seen.

Ethan considered not replying. Yet, even as he entertained the thought, he knew he couldn't resist.

“Along with 220 others,” he replied before he could stop himself. He realized belatedly that the real count was 220 others plus Bryce Lahela (scalpellahela).

“Those 220 others can look all they want but they can't touch,” was her immediate response.

His breath caught a little. The power she had over him was astounding.

“But you can,” she added when he did not respond.

God almighty. She was determined to kill him.

A few minutes ticked by and his phone buzzed with an incoming call. When he started the call, he was greeted by what sounded like distant wolf whistles, followed by the sound of a door closing.

“You okay over there?” she asked by form of greeting. Her voice was teasing in a way that was absolutely maddening.

“Fine,” Ethan replied in what he hoped was a convincing, leveled voice.

“Where are you anyway?” She spoke in a sultry sort of drawl that did nothing to placate his traitorous body's reaction to her photo.

“Donahue's. Finishing up my drink,” he replied, eyeing his forgotten scotch on the table where he had set it. “Anyway, sorry if I awoke you. I accidentally liked and commented.”

“Accidentally,” she repeated in a tone that suggested she did not believe him. “So you don't like my dress and you're not at a loss for words?”

“I never said that,” he returned at once. “You look…”

What was a professional way of saying “fucking irresistible” or “like I want to peel that dress off with my teeth”?

“Good,” he said lamely, though his strangled voice suggested far more. She picked up on that, of course.

“And what are you going to do about that?” she asked in a deliberately innocent whisper.

“Lilac,” he warned, as he always did when their conversation veered towards volatile territory.

“There's nothing wrong with just telling me, Ethan,” she offered and he could have sworn she sounded almost pleading.

He did not argue, as he usually did. Mostly because another intellectual argument with her, in addition to the photo and the way she all but purred in his ear, would allow his desire for her to win. He'd be on his way to her bed in moments.

“Tell me,” she prompted again.

With a sigh, he gave in.

“That dress is...”

“Yes?”

“Sinful.”

There was a small pause at the other end of the line.

“Should I wear it out?”

“Absolutely,” he returned, completely enraptured by the direction this was all heading. He could feel his inhibitions vanish.

“Where to?”

“My bed.”

She did not miss a beat.

“Ideally, I'd be out of the dress for that, then,” she returned in that sexy drawl of hers. Ethan was astounded he was not in the car, speeding to her apartment at that very moment.

“Fuck, Lilac,” he murmured.

“So you can do that, yes,” she responded in a whisper so low that he almost didn’t catch it.

He said nothing, fearing he would sound like an incomprehensible imbecile if he did.

A long silence, and then, “Ethan?”

“Yes?”

He heard her suck in a breath, almost as if mustering up courage. “I miss you.”

There was an unbearable tugging at his chest. He never had her courage, but now that she had laid it out for him, he couldn’t resist admitting the same. “You know I do too.”

Another small silence.

“Come over,” she said at last and he could hear the tones of humor in her voice. Almost as if she knew what he was going to say. Perhaps she did know. The brief illusion in which they saw each other as lovers and not colleagues, had inevitably come to an end. As it always did.

He laughed good-naturedly. “Go to sleep.”

“With you?”

Despite himself, he grinned. He knew at the other end, she would be too.

“Good night, Lilac.”

“Good night, Ethan.”

___________________________________

Click Here for Part 2

___________________________________

A/N: Ah, these two will have to sleep together sooner than later.

THANK YOU so much if you read this silly, pointless thing!

Masterlist

P.S. I made that Instagram post Ethan loves of MC at Donahue’s but didn’t put it in the story. LOL, I love the idea of him stalking her posts. That man is so in love.

Anyway, here it is, just for fun:

#Ethan Ramsey #Open Heart #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #choices you play #oph #OH #OH2 #OHSY #ethan ramsey fanfiction #Ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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holy-stevie · 4 years

Text

Breathless

Summary: The three times you leave Ransom breathless

Warnings: brief mentioning of making out

a/n: enjoy! requests are open!

Please do not post my work on any other site.

Crowds of sweaty bodies pressing against each other, flashing lights and pounding music. The stench of sweat, alcohol and sex filling the room, too many couples grinding on each other in a daze. People spilling over barstools, laughing and joking with their friends, or couples aggressively making out. This setting had been the one Ransom Drysdale found himself in constantly, a fit young thing with smudged makeup and ruffled hair sitting on his lap as he drinks cheap drinks and laughs with his friends.

The moment he sees you he knows, he knows you don’t belong in this club at all. You dodge through the crowd with nothing but disgust on your face, clenching your jaw when a creep tries to grab at you for a dance. He should have known the second he saw your features contract with annoyance at the people around you, should have known that you weren’t like the normal girls who throw themselves at him with no dignity. He watches in amusement as you storm right up to where he’s sitting, the girl in his lap now placing sloppy kisses on the side of his neck. You cringe at the state of the girl in his lap, what was her name again? He can’t remember.

“Mary.” You say, ignoring the snickers of the people around you, including Ransom himself. The girl lifts her head from Ransoms neck as she looks up at you, she squeals as she holds her hand out to you.

“Y/n!!!” The girl squeals, you cringe at how drunk she is. Ransom takes this second to study you. You were wearing a modest dress, your hair in seemingly perfect curls splaying across your shoulders. Your makeup was simple, not over the top nor smudged in the slightest. What really made him smirk was embarrassment for your friend schooled over your features, definitely not a club girl.

“We need to get you home now.” You say patiently, taking her hands in yours. Ransom chuckles and your eyes flick up to his, causing him to lose his breath for a second at the soft beautiful colour of them. He clutches the girls hips tighter, not in a hold she was restrained in but one to show that she was going home with him tonight.

“Why the rush? I’ll take her back to my place when I’m ready to go.” He says, oozing the cocky trust fund brat attitude that entertains his friends. You don’t even flinch at his words, instead firmly grabbing the hand of your drunk friend and pulling her to her feet. Ransom lets go of her, cocking his head to the side slightly as you pull her into your side.

“She is not going to fuck you while she’s so drunk that she can barely stand.” You spit out at him, fiercely protecting your friend’s dignity. Before he even has the chance to reply you turn around and push your way through the crowd, leaving him staring after you. Watching you push through the crowd with much more confidence then you had approaching him, Ransom can’t help feeling breathless at your courage and loyalty towards your friend. That was the first time you had left Hugh Ransom Drysdale breathless.

Ransom swirls the chair from side to side as he sits in his home study. It was Monday, also known as the first day of therapy. When he was revealed to be the murderer he honestly thought it was all over for him, but with a big enough bribe to the jury he got off with house arrest and court mandated therapy. He was not looking forward to spending three years listening to an old bald dude tell him how to “control his urges”, but his mother had spent hours grilling him on the importance of these sessions.

Ransom can’t help the way his mouth drops open when instead of a grumpy old man in a stiff suit, you walk into his study. Your hair was in the same curls as it had been that night, but instead of a dress, you are in a slim pencil skirt and a silky blouse, black heels clicking into the room.

“Mr Drysdale.” You greet him, setting down your bag next to your chair as you take a seat. What takes him back more than anything is the look on your face. You did not have a fierce glare or a piercing stare of judgement and guilt towards him, no instead you a soft studying look upon your face.

“You’re a therapist.” He states obviously, he can’t help the surprise and pleasure at the situation. The encounter at the club had been in the back of his mind for two years, you had taken a hold of his interests. You quirk an eyebrow in amusement as you pull out an iPad, not expecting him to remember you at all.

“And you’re a murderer.” You joke, instantly frowning apologetically when he clenches his jaw and shifts his gaze to the window. You sigh and put your things down, giving him your full attention as he snaps out a snarky response to cover up his own emotions.

“Should have known you’d be like the rest of them.” He chuckles sarcastically, looking back to you when he has his feelings back in check. You had a way about you that made him want to spill every thought running around in his head, it was intimidating. He flinches in surprise when you gently lay your hands over his own that are curled up tightly in fists on the chair’s armrest.

“Ransom I’m not here to accuse you, I’m here to help you become a better person. I don’t care what the media says, I care about what you have to say. I’m not here as an enemy, more as an ally.” Your words are backed up by a soft yet powerful tone, your eyes conveying that you weren’t here to make his life a living hell. Ransom feels the air escape leave his lungs as he nods softly, you smile and go back to prepare yourself for the session. This was the second time you had reduced Hugh Ransom Drysdale to a breathless mess with a few words.

Ransom fiddles with the last few adjustments on his suit, his palms sweaty as he stares at himself in the mirror. His mother tuts from behind him before coming to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. A touch he would have once shrugged off with a scoff he now leans into slightly. His relationship with mother was not the cold stares and snarky comments at each other anymore, no now his mother smiles proudly as he stands in a back room to the beautiful chapel he was getting married in.

“What are you nervous for?” She asks, giving him a small pat and a smile. Ransom feels the nervous tingles travel down his back as he looks at himself, he had changed so much. You had helped him shape a better man out of himself, a man who was about to get married to the love of his life. It had been a few long years but after a lot of loving and healing, Ransom Drysdale was finally a good man.

“What if she changes her mind?” He asks, his voice holding the boyish fear he used to hide from everyone, now as he watches his mother roll her eyes fondly and laugh, he embraces the feeling. Linda opens her mouth to respond but is interrupted by a head sticking from the hallway. Your older brother Luke who was also Ransoms best friend.

“You ready to marry my sister big guy?” He asks with a teasing grin, knowing Ransoms nerves. Ransom blows out a deep breath before nodding, following Luke out to the main room. Several rows of guests sitting excited to see their union to each other, his mother joining his closet friends in the front row. Ransom takes his place at the alter and squeezes his eyes closed to take a deep breath as he hears the music start.

When Ransoms eyes meet your form in the big white dress, he instantly loses his breath. You had a big wide smile adorning your beautiful face, your hair up in an intricate hairstyle of curls. As your hands meet at the end of the aisle, your father giving him a warning glare that he misses as his eyes are glued to yours, you take away his breath yet again. The day you become his wife, Mrs Drysdale as he tells everyone he comes across, you leave him a breathless wreck for the third time.

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr @chrisevans-imagines

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #Ransom Thrombrey #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out #chris evans x reader #chris evans

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crystalstar8 · 3 years

Text

Knights of the Night (ch.3)

Chapter 3

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,905

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

The following day found Catalina following Jungkook to the campus library. They had gotten their tests back in French class that day and they both got Ds. Their professor set them up with a tutor, whom they were on the way to meet.

“I can’t believe we got Ds,” said Catalina. “We studied!”

“Yeah! We totally studied and it didn’t help us at all,” said Jungkook. Catalina thought back on their study session at her apartment; French textbooks open, bottles of wine scattered about, two full glasses, and the Twilight movies unironically playing on Catalina’s laptop.

“Yeah we totally studied!” she said.

The campus library was a huge, old building with towering bookshelves and dark wood furniture. They went down one of the halls where there were tables and chairs set up between the aisles. At the first table was a ridiculously handsome man, who stood up when he spotted them.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “Look who’s failing his class already in the first week.”

Jungkook frowned and stopped in his tracks. “You’re our tutor?”

“Hey! Why are you saying it like that? You should be more like, ‘Oh, Jin! Thank goodness you’re helping me pass my French class, how can I ever repay you?’”

“I’m assuming you guys…know each other?” said Catalina.

Jungkook sighed and said, “Catalina, this is Jin. As you can see he’s very old and his dementia is setting in, making him talk nonsense-“

Jin rounded the table and swatted at Jungkook, yelling, “Hey! I’m tutoring you out of the kindness of my heart and this is what I get?”

A librarian stuck her head around the corner and shushed them angrily. Jin apologized and gestured to the two chairs across from his.

“Yeah, I’ve known Jungkook since he was a child,” said Jin. “I practically raised him.”

“He used to live next door. He babysat me and my brother like, two times,” said Jungkook.

“So, are you two dating?” asked Jin. “Because I have some wonderful childhood stories to tell.”

Catalina laughed and said, “We’re not dating, but I’d love to hear them.”

“Jin,” said Jungkook. “Jin.”

“What?”

“I’ll kill you.”

Jin laughed for several seconds, then sobered up in an instant. “Anyway, let’s get to work.”

He flipped the French textbook open and began.

“So, what are you guys having trouble with?” he asked. “Let’s see your tests.”

Catalina left the tutoring session feeling a bit better about her French class. As they walked out of the library, Jungkook said, “So, I’m having a party at my house tonight and you’re invited. My parents are out of town for this healthcare conference thing so everyone’s gonna be there. It’s gonna be awesome.”

“And what do you mean by ‘everyone’?” asked Catalina. She’s always kind of wanted to go to one of those cliché house parties where a bunch of unwanted guests show up and the host is freaking out about their parents’ china cabinet or whatever. Her friends back home were pretty boring, so she never got the party experience.

“I mean, like, everyone. Like, a bunch of people from my classes and from high school and stuff,” said Jungkook.

“Okay, I’ll go. It sounds fun,” said Catalina. “Do you think a lot of people will show up despite the people going missing in the neighboring town?”

“I mean, it’s not happening in this town so…” Jungkook shrugged.

“Yeah, it’s probably fine,” said Catalina. “Anyway, I’ll come over late tonight. I have homework I need to finish.”

“It’s okay, the party doesn’t start until late anyway, if you know what I mean,” Jungkook said with a wink. “It’s gonna be lit.”

“I’ll see you later JK,” Catalina said, laughing. The two of them parted ways, Catalina wondering with trepidation, and also excitement, what the party was going to be like.

The party, as it turned out, was not lit. Catalina arrived around ten, after getting most of her homework done with minimal procrastination. There was only one car in front of the house besides Jungkook’s, and no lights on inside. Catalina texted him to make sure everything was alright. He answered, telling her to come to the back yard.

The backyard was small, a tall wooden fence along the back separating it from the woods. In the middle of the yard were two people sitting in lawn chairs around a bonfire. Jungkook stood up and waved.

“Hey, you made it!” said Jungkook. He gestured to the bonfire and said, “I told you it’d be lit.”

Catalina cringed.

“I’m sorry, that was terrible. I can’t believe I just said that,” he said.

“I think Jin is getting to you,” said the other person sitting at the fire. Catalina realized that it was Jimin.

“Jimin! I didn’t know you’d be here!” said Catalina. Jimin stood up and they hugged. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“Yeah, we grew up together,” said Jimin.

“Does everyone in this town know each other?” asked Catalina.

“I mean…” Jimin started.

“Kind of,” said Jungkook, setting up a chair for her. They all sat down. “Not really, but this town is pretty small. There’s only one high school so…”

“I see,” said Catalina. “So, what happened to the party? I imagined like, a big house party with a bunch of people we don’t know, getting drunk and tossing vases around like footballs.”

Jimin laughed so hard he almost fell off his chair.

“What? Did you get that from Mean Girls?” asked Jungkook. Catalina nodded. “I don’t know, I guess everyone is “scared” of the “serial killer”, or whatever. They don’t know what they’re missing, because I plan on sharing some great horror stories around the bonfire tonight.”

“Jungkook, I just want you to know how irresponsible this is!”

Jin came into the backyard and stood there with his hands on his hips. Another man joined him, equally as handsome. This man was blonde, built, and wore a bomber jacket with patches all over it.

“There is a serial killer on the loose and you’re throwing a party!” said Jin.

“Well, you showed up so you’re just as bad. And you brought your boyfriend,” said Jungkook.

“We are not dating and I am just here to tell you that you should end this right now. We are going to get kidnapped,” said Jin.

“Catalina, this is Jimmy K, the local bad boy who is all of a sudden mysteriously hanging out with Jin all the time now,” said Jungkook.

“Local bad boy, I love it,” said Jimmy K. He held out a hand to Catalina to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said with a wink.

“Oh,” Catalina blushed, caught off guard. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Soon, they were all sitting around the bonfire listening to Jungkook begin his scary story.

“This is something that happened to me when I was kid, and I never told anyone this before, because I was afraid no one would believe me. When I was nine, my brother and I were staying at our aunt’s house in the mountains while our parents were out of town on a relief mission. One day, I went out to explore the woods and do some climbing. I found a big rocky crag, which I climbed, hoping I’d end up at the top of the mountain. It wasn’t the top of the mountain by far, but I did find something else: a mossy trail leading deep into the woods,” Jungkook said, lowering his voice dramatically.

“When is this supposed to get scary?” asked Jin.

“Shut up. So I followed the trail. The sun was beginning to set and I knew I needed to head back to my aunt’s house soon, but I needed to see where the trail led to. I wasn’t disappointed. The trail opened up to an old cobblestone driveway, and at the end of the driveway was a huge house. It was old, one of those gothic Victorian houses, all dark brick and carved wood. I could see the sky from the clearing, which told me I had about an hour before it fully got dark. I went to the front door anyway. It was unlocked, so I went inside. There were cobwebs everywhere and sheets over furniture, a real classic haunted house, but I wasn’t afraid, because I knew ghosts weren’t real. So, I went deeper into the house. All of a sudden, the front door slammed shut behind me. I was thrown into darkness. Then I heard a voice somewhere in the house say, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little boy?’ I was terrified, so I turned around and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The voice was laughing. Finally, the door opened and I ran from the house as fast as I could. I ran back through the trail, climbed back down the rocks and ran. It was dark now and my lungs were burning. Eventually, I made it back to my aunt’s house. She was waiting outside for me, angry. She said, “dammit Jungkook! I told you not to go too far in these woods. There’s monsters out there who eat reckless little boys like you!’

“And that’s the story of how I found out ghosts are real,” Jungkook finished.

“That was more like listening to a trauma story than a scary story,” said Jimin. Jungkook took his shoe off and threw it at Jimin, who actually fell off his chair laughing this time.

“I thought it was a good story,” said Jimmy K, who was listening with interest.

“Thank you,” said Jungkook.

“That didn’t actually happen to you, did it?” asked Catalina.

“Yeah, it did. Minus the cobwebs, sheets, and locked door. But my aunt definitely did say that when I got back. Actually, I remember the real life house being really pretty and not dark, which made me realize that I had just broken into someone’s house. That’s when I ran away. So, who’s next?” said Jungkook.

Catalina was running again. They were right behind her. Her heart was pounding in her aching chest as her bare feet thudded against the forest trail. It was close, just a little farther and she’d be safe. The footsteps behind her were getting closer. They were heavy and fast, much stronger than she was. Finally, the house came into view and she threw the front door open. She tried closing it behind her, but the door was too small for the frame and it wouldn’t close all the way. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. They were going to catch her and she couldn’t do anything about it… Catalina turned around and ran deeper into the house. As she rounded the corner, she found herself in a den, running right into someone. But she wasn’t afraid of this person. She knew she was finally safe here.

“They can’t get you here,” the man said as he held her against his broad chest. She looked up at him. He smiled down with his dimples and perfect teeth. She felt herself melt against him.

But it didn’t last long. Soon, he disappeared and the fire went out in the fireplace, leaving the room in cold darkness. An unfamiliar voice chuckled, the laughter bouncing off the walls to taunt her.

“Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little girl?”

Catalina jolted awake that morning, a scream lodged in her throat.

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emy-loves-you · 3 years

Text

(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 4

Confronting the Princes

Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5

Warnings: Some of this is in the POV of a predatory transphobe, so a lot of bad things will be mentioned (also, as I post this I realize that the first few lines could be seen as discussions of animal cruelty, no animals were harmed or considered being harmed in this fic)

“Okay, but wouldn't it get a little bit drunk?”

“No. The Carassius auratus would surely suffocate before it could become intoxicated. Besides, the chances of it even ingesting any liquid before dying is slim.”

“Ooh! Would it be like hotboxing, but with death?”

“I am not sure what ‘hotboxing’ means.”

“I’ll have to show you later!”

Virgil sighed as he entered the room. “You’re not getting Logan high.” Remus and Logan were sitting on the couch, debating something. Virgil pushed down his jealousy. Debating wasn’t exclusively between Logan and Virgil. Besides, Remus tended to discuss topics that made Virgil… uncomfortable, to say the least. Speaking of which…“Do I want to know what you’re talking about?”

Remus bounced lightly in his seat. “I was wondering what would happen if you put a goldfish in a tank filled with vodka.”

Ah, so a tamer topic this time. Virgil shrugged, heading over to the couch. “Mind if I listen in?” Remus shrugged, and Logan held out his arms. Virgil (a little too eagerly) accepted, moving to sit in his boyfriend’s lap. Logan’s arms moved to wrap around Virgil’s waist as he rested his head on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil sighed, closing his eyes as they continued their conversation on drunk fish.

As the conversation continued, Virgil allowed his mind to wander. It’s been one month since Virgil confessed to his boyfriends. Not much has happened, surprisingly. Any time Virgil’s boyfriends weren’t busy, they’d all hang out at Janus’ house. Virgil was relieved to see everyone getting along, especially Remus. Remus’ intrusive thoughts and insecurities made him uncomfortable to go out in public alone. Virgil was happy that Remus was developing a positive relationship with Patton, Logan, and especially Roman.

Speak of the Devil. Roman suddenly knocked on the door. “I hate to interrupt, but breakfast is ready.” Remus squealed, running to the dining room. Logan and Virgil followed at a more subdued pace. It was currently almost noon, so it was more like brunch than breakfast, but it’s the thought that counts. Today was the 5-year anniversary of Janus and Remus’ relationship, and Janus wanted to celebrate by cooking breakfast for Remus. Considering the fact that Janus has never cooked a single meal in his life, this meant a lot. Janus had spent the entire morning attempting to make something edible with the help of Patton and Roman. Virgil decided to stay out of the kitchen, not wanting his own anxieties and possessiveness of Janus’ kitchen to cause interference.

Everyone took a seat at the dining table as Janus and Patton entered, each with a tray of food. There were buttermilk pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Janus took a seat next to Remus while Patton sat next to Virgil. They ate in relative silence, with the occasional compliment to Janus’ cooking (sure, the bacon was burnt and the pancakes were in multiple pieces, but it was good for Janus’ first attempt). Eventually, everyone finished eating and quietly talked amongst themselves. Logan and Roman were arguing over how to properly eat a pancake. Remus seemed determined to kiss every square inch of Janus’ face, making sure to whisper something in Janus’ ear between every kiss. Virgil and Patton watched quietly, holding hands underneath the table.

Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz

Roman looked at his phone and paled considerably. Logan glanced at the phone and sighed. “Just ignore it, Roman.”

Remus looked up. “Ignore what?” He looked over at the phone and read the contact name. “Why are they calling you!” He looked furious.

Roman huffed, shoving the phone away. “They call me once a month to try and convince me to stop being gay. They constantly call it a ‘phase.’ And according to them, the only reason I’m gay is that I thought it would magically bring you back somehow.” If it wasn’t such a serious conversation, Virgil would’ve snorted at the jazz hands Roman sarcastically made at ‘magically.’

Remus stared at the phone in silent fury while Janus got out his phone. He entered a number but didn’t hit call, just watching Remus. Virgil watched as Remus turned to look at Janus. Remus bit his knuckle as he looked at the phone. Janus showed him the number and raised and eyebrow. Remus sighed and brought his non-bitten hand to tug at his hair. Janus gently removed the hand from Remus’ hair, rubbing small circles into Remus’ wrist. Remus stared for a few more minutes before sighing. “We’re gonna need time to get ready.”

Janus smiled softly. “I know. I’ll help get everything together.”

Roman sat up, grabbing his phone as it stopped ringing. “Get what together?”

Remus turned to Roman with a shaky smile on his face. “Have you ever been in a limo?”

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Barbara Prince was surprised to hear a knock at the door. Today was both Barbara and her husband’s day off, and the two of them were in the living room. Barbara was dusting the mantel, while John was watching some sports game that Barbara didn’t care about. Barbara hummed a small tune as she set down the cleaning supplies and went to answer the door. She made sure to take her time; if someone wanted to talk to her that badly, they could wait a few minutes. Now, who could it be? Almost everyone is out on vacation right now.

Barbara Prince did not gasp at the sight of Janus Williams outside her house, thank you very much. Barbara never believed that she’d ever meet such a prestigious (or wealthy) individual. If Barbara wasn’t a faithful wife, she would’ve swooned on sight (never mind how Mr. Williams is several decades younger; after his mother died, Barbara’s sure the man would enjoy an older woman in his life).

If Mr. Williams noticed the staring, he didn’t say anything. In fact, all of his attention was turned towards the other man on the porch. The other man was also fairly attractive. He and Mr.Williams were both wearing form-fitting business suits with green and yellow accessories. The man seemed uncomfortable, biting his lip (which only drew attention to his face- or more specifically, his mustache).

Barbara snapped herself out of it, finally noticing that she’d been staring at the two of them for an improperly long amount of time. She gave Mr. Williams her best smile. “Hello. How may I help you fine gentlemen?”

Mustache Man slightly cringed before taking a deep breath. “Hello, Mother.”

Barbara froze for a second. “Roman? Oh, sweety! It’s so good to see you!” She quickly wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the way he tensed up “I see you took my advice, and I’m so proud of you!” She let go of him, only to pinch his cheek. “Look at you, all dressed up for business! And I see you know Mr.Williams.” She turned to look at the man in question, who’s face had stayed neutral the entire time. “I hope my son hasn’t been too much of a handful.” She giggled at the irony, hiding her smile behind her hand. After years of disappointment, one of her children were actually paying off!

Mr.Williams cleared his throat. “I believe we’ve reached a bit of a misunderstanding.” He made a gesture behind him, and Barbara finally noticed the vehicle parked on the street. Is that a limo?! The back door opened, and four men stepped out. The first man Barbara didn’t recognize; he wore a similar outfit with purple accessories. Barbara fought back a sneer at his shaggy purple hair. The next two people took her a moment to recognize; they both wore glasses and their suits each had sky blue or navy blue accessories. Barbara didn’t bother to hide her sneer when she recognized them. Logan Croft and Patton Morale. Roman’s ‘boyfriends.’ What are THEY doing here. She smirked. Maybe they’re here to apologize for all the shit they convinced Roman to put me through. I’ll let them grovel and beg for forgiveness. Barbara was so distracted by Croft and Morale, she didn’t even notice the last person until they were already on the porch.

Roman!? Barbara turned to look at not-Roman. The man chuckled nervously, biting his lip again. “It’s been quite a while now, hasn’t it, Mother?”

Barbara found herself freezing again. “Rebecca?”

Rebecca tensed up while the man with purple hair hissed out, “That is NOT his name!”

John chose that moment to approach the door. “Honey, who’s at the door?”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “I have just come to say a proper goodbye. You never respected my wishes to be a man, and you never respected Roman’s wishes to love who he wants to love. But we are both living happy and successful lives without the two of you. I ask that you never try and contact me or Roman from here on out. Good day.” With that, Rebecca spun on her heel and went to walk away. Mr.Williams touched Rebecca’s elbow and whispered something in her ear. Rebecca nodded once before walking away with Roman and his boyfriends in tow.

Mr.Williams smiled at Barbara and John. It reminded John of the smiles Barbara used to give the gay men who lived down the street. It reminded Barbara of a python, poised to strike. “If I may come inside, there is something that I would like to discuss with you, Mr and Mrs.Prince.”

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Virgil watched from his seat in the limo as Janus was forcibly shoved out of the house, the door slamming shut behind him. Virgil had to physically restrain Remus from getting out of the limo. Janus quickly brushed himself off, muttering something that Virgil couldn’t hear. He quickly made his way back to the limo, giving the simple order to take them home. Whatever he told the Princes, he didn’t share with the rest of them. Virgil watched as Remus and Roman curled up together. The two brothers were uncharacteristically quiet, with Remus rubbing small circles into Roman’s hands.

Roman suddenly grabbed Remus’ right arm. “Do you remember?” The rest of the question went unsaid. Whether because Roman didn’t want to talk much or because it was an obvious memory, Virgil didn’t know.

Remus chuckled softly. “Yeah. We climbed the old oak tree in the backyard. You fell out and I tried to catch you and suddenly my arm broke from under your fat ass.”

Roman nodded. “Do you remember what you said?”

Remus tilted his head. “I said a lot of things that day. I specifically remember that day being the first time cussed that bitch out.” He smiled softly. “But I don’t think that’s what you’re talkin’ about. Can you be more specific, Ro?”

Roman sighed. “You said that we would stick together. That you would never let me fall alone.”

Remus’ smile grew. “Yeah, ‘birds of a feather’ and all that. Why’d ya ask?”

Roman took a deep breath. “Does that still apply now? I know I pushed you away and it’s been so long but-”

Remus pulled Roman in for a hug. “Roman, you are my brother. You mean the world to me. I’m sorry I left you alone. But I promise that we’ll stick together from here on out.” We gave Roman a shaky smile. “Twins forever, right?”

Roman laughed, tears forming in his eyes. “Yeah, twins forever.”

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-princess @artsy-enby09 @girl-who-reads @drarrymalecsolangelo @count-woe-laf @im-an-anxious-wreck @ent-is-undecisive

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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fullsunalicia · 4 years

Note

hiii if its not a bother,,,,how about writing a wolf!au with jaemin or jeno finding their very human mate who has absolutely no idea of the supernatural world but has a tendency of finding trouble?? if its not too much can you put in a lil werewolf action hehe thank ü

lovers of the moon — LJN

every wolf is destined to find a mate someday. when jeno meets you, he feels like the luckiest man alive, but little does he know that he‘s going to lose his mind over protecting you - after all, you are the definition of the word „trouble“..

werewolf!jeno x human!reader

hey love! it‘s absolutely not a bother, thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy <3

Jeno has been dreaming of his mate since forever.

There are werewolves who are bitten, and there are those who are born with it. Whether it’s a blessing or not, Jeno was born into a family bearing the moon’s magic, and all his life, he‘s been growing up with the stories of the supernatural world. The myths, the legends, the histories. That includes the stories of the mates, the other half of a wolf’s being. He learnt about them at the tender age of twelve, barely a teenager, the age where he had first turned into an animal and was able to change back. Since then, there hasn‘t been a day where he‘s not thinking about you.

Are you a wolf, too? A witch, maybe? Or perhaps you‘re just a mere human, who‘s going to be lured into his world because of the pull a mate experiences. Plenty of mates are found in the mortal world, chained to a normal life, the lulled sense of security. Nonetheless, because of the ties they have to a wolf’s soul, they’re bound to be drawn to the supernaturaly way. Maybe you’ll find him first. It doesn‘t matter who or what you are. When Jeno meets you, he‘s going to love you forever.

His pack often teases him for being so whipped for his mate, even though he doesn‘t know them yet. It‘s just that the idea of someone being destined for you makes his heart feel so warm; The knowledge that no matter what happens, you‘ll love him. No matter what problem, you‘ll work through it. Of course there is a chance that you‘d reject him, but he‘s accepted that possibility.

As long as you‘re happy, he‘s content, aswell. He just wants to meet you. To get to know the other half of his soul. He‘s been waiting for so long.

His patience is soon to be rewarded.

❀ ❀ ❀

Jeno hates not being able to get drunk as quickly as others. What else is he downing these drinks for?

Jaemin‘s already pretty wasted. That’s no wonder, really. Convincing the boy to a round of shots is as easy as breathing, and he’s downed them all way before you can even get a headstart. Apparently, it’s the only thing that makes Jaemin human, even though Jeno begs to differ. After all, his best friend is a good person through and through, kind, selfless. Is that not humanity itself? Either way, Jaemin‘s the only one in the pack who doesn‘t take much to be intoxicated, and at the end of the night, someone has to take him to a bathroom before he throws up and tuck him into bed afterwards. Jeno would rather not do that tonight, but it looks like he‘ll have to.

„Nana,“ he sighs, reaching for his best friend. Jaemin giggles, wrapping both arms around Jeno‘s waist to hold him close. If there’s one word to describe Na Jaemin, it’s clingy. It’s his second nature to embrace others and leave kisses all over their face, because he lives for affection. In moments like these, Jaemin tends to forget himself, and his supernatural strength ends up seeping through. If he holds Jeno any tighter, he‘s definitely going to break a rib. „Nana, let‘s slow down a little, yeah? Also, watch the grip, man.“

„Aww, but I just want to hug you!“ Jaemin‘s voice is so loud, it seems to boom over the music that‘s playing in the living room. He hums in content when Jeno fixes his hair, recently dyed blue, and even beams at him. Drunk Nana is a way too happy Nana.

The party is in full swing. There‘s a lot of people Jeno recognizes, but also some he‘s never seen before. Donghyuck keeps inviting too much people, and yet he whines when he has to clean up the mess in the morning.

He’s known Jaemin all his life. Like him, Jaemin was born to be a wolf, a child of the wilderness, lover of the moon. Though he looks soft, he’s one of the strongest in the pack, if not on the same level as Jeno. They quarrel often, but never seriously, only as jokes. They love each other, they’re brothers. Every corner of his soul, his being, Jaemin knows it, learned all the flaws by heart. Habits of the other are often picked up, later to be laughed about as they catch themselves doing it. Friends for life. Packmates forever.

There’s no one in this world Jeno trusts more than Na Jaemin.

With that, Jeno helps himself to another glass of whiskey, though that task proves to be rather difficult when Jaemin clings to him like a toddler. The younger man nuzzles his face in the crook of Jeno‘s neck, weight heavy on his side, grip still as tight as chains. Jeno feels weirdly reminded of his first full moon, where he had to be contained in the basement so he wouldn‘t break free and murder some innocent person. It’s normal. Control has to be acquired, even if you’re not a turned wolf. But it still shouldn’t be so hard for him. He cringes, but it‘s not the taste of the drink sloshing against his glass.

„I hate strong alcohol, too.“

Jeno looks up - and freezes. Something inside him snaps, reties itself to your existence, like Jeno hasn‘t been living until this point and he‘s finally found his reason to do so. It‘s you. His precious, beautiful mate. The wolf in him is practically roaring at him to toss Jaemin aside and smother you with a hug like his packmate is doing to him.

The moon knows what she did when she connected him to you. You’re perfect.

Jeno‘s barely able to hold himself back. When he breathes in deeply, he‘s overwhelmed with your scent; Flowers, the stench of perfume. Your natural fragrance. He starts trembling in Jaemin‘s hold. Suddenly, it‘s not a hug, but rather his friend holding him back in the realization that his mate is standing in their shared kitchen, smiling so beautifully you‘re going to knock the air out of Jeno‘s lungs.

„Oh, he doesn‘t hate it,“ Jaemin helps him out. A painful pinch to his waist tries to pull Jeno back to reality, but he‘s still reeling over the fact that you‘re actually here. That an angel stepped into his house and you‘re actually talking to him. „He doesn‘t like it when I cling to him, but that‘s what friends are for, right? I just want some affection.“

You giggle, and both of the boys are in awe at the sound. You‘re so cute. „I get that,“ you admit and set down your cup. The way you carry yourself, pupils slightly widening - you‘re a little buzzed. Jeno thinks he‘s going to be drunk of you, too. „Is a group hug appropiate? I could use some affection too.“

„Get over here, then,“ Jeno says. He didn‘t mean to sound so assertive, and Jaemin, sweet Jaemin who never glares, gives him the evil side eye. Jeno just can‘t help himself. He craves you closer - he wants to pull you away from the party and tell you about the many years he spent waiting for you.

But you‘re only human. That means you don‘t know anything about his world. He‘d have to guide you into hit before he makes you his.

Despite him talking so rudely, you approach both boys with a grin. But you stumble, tripping over the high heels you’re wearing as you fall right into Jeno’s chest. “Whoops,” you murmur. When you wrap your arms around both of them, he almost sighs in relief. Arms move to hold you close, shielding you from the world forever. You fit inside them perfectly, like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. The stench of sparkling wine is clinging to your clothes. „I needed that,“ you mumble into Jeno’s chest.

The elders talk about magic. The universe’s way of shoving you towards your mate, two magnets who are pulled to each other. Irreversible, eternal. Once a match is made by the moon, it is never able to be broken or severed. No matter how, the life of a mate and their wolf is connected forever the second they meet. That’s why the need to be with them is so strong, so powerful.

Jeno knows all that, but he wasn’t aware the pull was that powerful. All it took was look into your eyes, and Jeno was a goner. In your eyes, he finds galaxies, untold stories, promises. Every fold of your soul, any thought you’ve ever created but is left unspoken, everything shows itself the second you meet his gaze. You smile again. His knees buckle.

“Alright, Jen,” Jaemin says, pulling him out his trance. As if he was drowning in you, and now he’s brought ashore. “I think we’re going to lay off of the alcohol for the rest of the evening, yeah? You just stay here and I’ll get you some water... Be back in a second.”

Only when Jaemin leaves you two behind, you lean back. Jeno’s able to look into your eyes now, and your pupils are dilated from the alcohol you’ve had. “Better now?” you ask.

For a second, he’s dumbfounded. Then, he quickly comes to his sense. “Uh, yeah, thanks,” he mumbles, hands still on your lower back. He’s just waiting for you to push him away, because he’s physically unable to do it himself.

But you don’t. Your arms are firmly curled around his neck, and you’re giggling in his hold. Maybe it’s the pull working its’ magic right now, but Jeno’s willing to thank anything and anyone for what’s happening right now.

You’re even better than his dreams. Finally, you have found his way into your life.

“Maybe I should stop drinking.” Your voice tugs at his heartstrings. Yawning, you lay your head on his chest, seemingly unbothered that you both just met. “I didn’t even want to go all out. But my day just sucked...alcohol’s really good in moments like these. Do you drink a lot?”

“No.” Jeno rests his cheek against your head. You’re warm, able to heat him up way better than any drink he’s had until now. He wonders what you’ve been up to. What you’d like to become someday. If he can help you. None of that comes out of his mouth, instead he asks you: “What happened today for you to drink so much? If it’s alright that I’m asking.”

“Failed a test,” you mumble, lips brushing past the column of his neck. Jeno almost groans in relief. If this continues you, he’ll very well just turn into a wolf infront of you because he isn’t able to hold himself back right now. His self-control sucks anyways. You testing it doesn’t help a lot. “Ex bothered me.”

“Want me to beat them up?”

You giggle. Fingers move to mess with his hair, and he closes his eyes when you curl the strands around your appendage. “No, it’s not worth you getting hurt because of it.” Now, you step back. Your hands hold his for a few seconds before you completely let go. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cling you. I’m (y/n). I promise I’m more polite sober.”

“It’s okay. I’m Jeno,” he introduces himself. “May I have your number, (y/n)? The next time your ex bothers you, I’ll chase him away.”

❀ ❀ ❀

You’re a double-texter. Jeno enjoys that a lot.

It’s easy to talk to you. You share the same humor, despite his friends claiming that he’s not funny at all. Many memes are sent back and forth, but the conversation never consists solely of your jokes. From time to time, you tell him about yourself and show your interest in him. Your dreams, your hopes, your interests. In turn, Jeno tells you all about his friends. What he wants to become someday. He also makes sure that you know he’s always there for you.

That’s how Jeno ends up picking you up in the middle of the night to grab some food from McDonald’s and get your mind off things.

Your hand feels so small in his. Curled towards him in the passenger seat, you trace the veins on the back of his hand with your fingertips, lost in your thoughts. He wants to know what’s going on inside your pretty head. But he doesn’t overstep his boundaries, and lets you take your own time to explain what’s bothering you.

Growing up with Jaemin had taught him patience. Jeno knows when to wait, and how to go about it. As a werewolf, that’s the most important thing to learn. It helps with control, to hold back the fury of turning, the magic of a full-moon. This should be a piece of cake.

Atleast it feels like it when you curl into his arm like a cat would. He hears your heart pounding, loud and clear. Impossible for a human, but a constant thing for him. Your pulse is his favorite melody. Jeno hums while he drives into the parking lot as you rest your cheek on his arm and sigh.

Sometimes, Jeno thinks you don’t feel the pull. When you get lost in your thoughts and forget about the world around you, Jeno is never the one to bring you back. You just snap out of it and calm him down with a smile, and it makes feel him unsure. Whether he’s allowed to do it. If you feel comfortable. If you didn’t, it’d explain the pull failing to draw you in. But then you pull stunts like this, and he has to restrain the wolf inside himself from jumping you and kissing you until your lips are swollen.

He turns the key, killing the engine as darkness starts to loom over you both. You haven’t moved. Tightly holding his hand in your own two, Jeno watches as you bury your face in his arm.

His free hand moves on instinct to tousle your hair. As always, your hair is soft, and he can smell the synthetic scent of peach and vanilla. Weirdly, he likes that scent just as much as your own fragrance. It’s a part of you he’s learnt to adore.

How can he not? Perfection starts and ends with you. All your flaws, your calloused edges. All they do is pull him further in as he falls deeper and deeper into love with you.

As the boys wouls call it - he’s got it bad.

“Hi there,” Jeno mumbles into your ear. Your heartbeat jumps, before calming down again. He likes knowing what kind of effect he has on you. It’s reassurrance, and compliment at the same time. “Everything alright?”

“Mhm.” You sigh again. Whatever’s laying heavy on your heart, the wolf boy wishes you’d let him lift it off. Before he can further investigate, though, you let go of him and climb over to sit on his lap. He almost chokes on the very air he’s breathing as you wrap your arms around his body and rest your head on his chest, right above his heart. It’s your turn to listen to his embarrassingly quick pulse.

Jeno cradles your body. You’re vulnerable, his little porcelain doll. Often, he forgets that you’re a mere human, alive, easily breakable. If he could, he’d hide you from the world and never show you again, so no one would be able to inflict harm upon you. But that’s irrational. So he just holds you in his arms, and hopes it’s enough to protect you for now.

The moon had taught him everything he needed to know. What it had failed to mention is how wonderful it feels to have you close to him.

The feeling of a warm body finding comfort in his arms. Trust. Honesty. All of that is given to him by you without effort, and it makes his heart swell with pride. For weeks now, he’s trying to figure out a way to let you know about his feelings. Or explain how he’s able to turn into a four-legged creature at will, and sometimes it happens because he’s enraged. Now that he’s found you, he’s so scared of scaring you of. Rejection comes easy, especially to a human. You’re not bound to the laws of the moon and the spirits. The second you sensed distress, you’d be able to flee.

And that is the biggest fear imaginable to him. Jeno bows his head, buries his face in the crook of his neck. Atleast now, when you’re still unknown about his true creature and his feelings, you still let him hold you close. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him against you tightly.

If only you knew how safe he feels in your arms. How he fights with himself because he wants to tell you how his heart beats for you, how much he treasures you. But he can’t.

“I’m sorry I’m wasting your time,” you mumble.

Jeno pulls back, hands cupping your face. The fireworks you set off inside him when you lay yours over his and close your eyes are indescribable, but he doesn’t want to be distracted by you right now. Not when you’re talking nonsense. “What the hell are you on about?” he mumbles, pulling you closer. Your heart thrums in its’ cage, accelerates, the sound ringing in his ears like bells. Jeno wonders what is going in that brilliant mind. So he inquires: “Why would you think that? No time is wasted when it’s spent with you. I came because I genuinely wanted to be here. Why would you apologize?”

“I ... just feel like a waste of time. I haven’t been feeling well, but that’s no excuse to take it out on you.” You shift in his arms, light as a feather, let yourself be tucked under his chin. When he was younger, he had often sat on his mother’s lap for hours like that. There is no comparable feeling to that sense of security a hug like that provided. It was no wonder that he often tended to fall asleep like that, despite the noisy ambiance that would sometimes be present as he restes on his mom’s lap. “I like you. I don’t want to ruin ... what we have.”

Jeno feels like bursting from happiness. Without hesitation and nothing to hold him back now, he turns his head and presses kisses all over your face, everywhere he can reach. Luckily, you giggle at that, excited over him being so affectionate. After the party, you had always been afraid of doing something wrong because Jaemin had claimed he didn’t like clinginess. Now he proves you wrong, wiping any sign of worry as he kisses you for the first time ever.

Some describe it as fireworks. Dizziness, the giddy feeling of lips against yours - all of these impressions pale to the experience of kissing your soulmate for the first time. The one who had been yours long before time had existed, and histories were told. Written in the stars, waiting to happen, that was the bond that connected Jeno and you. Now, it came true.

The very thing Jeno wished for his entire life.

Kissing someone is very addicting. He’d been kissed once or twice in his life, sometimes even because of a dare. But this, this couldn’t compare. To put it into cheesy words, Jeno feels like he’s on top of the world. You move your lips against his in the same fervor, and you taste like love and heaven in one. The only reason he lets himself be pushed away is because you’re gasping for breath, and the view makes it all worth it.

Cherry-red cheeks. A happy smile matching the one he’s sporting right now. Jeno knows about romance, but he didn’t expect to be such a sucker for it. “I like you, too,” he finally admits, confirming what the moon had established aeons before. The words you were waiting so patiently to hear. “I like you so, so much. And that is why you should never think you’re a waste of time. If you’d like, (y/n), I’ll give you all the time I have. The only waste of my time is not being with you.”

You don’t answer. Now feeling a thousand times better, you pull Jeno close again, kissing him over and over until you’ve both long forgotten where you are and why you’re here in the first place.

Wherever you are is where he wants to be always.

❀ ❀ ❀

The full moon is not Lee Jeno’s best friend.

At the start of your relationship, he’d often make up excuses as to why he couldn’t meet you at that specific day. Thank the lord you understand and don’t ask about it any further, but with every lie Jeno tells you, his guilt weighs heavier on his guts and consequently on his packmates, as they share house and mind with him.

It’s not like he’s a pup who can’t control himself. But his imagination runs wild often. Whenever you’re the reason his pulse spikes, his emotions overwhelming his senses, he asks himself if he could handle the consequences of what could happen. Does he trust himself that much? Is he ready to risk you just to feel content at your side?

There are rumors of powerful alphas who lose control involuntary. Maybe it’s the alcohol involved, or someone upsets them. But human mates are dangerous to wolves who are let loose. It’s not good for a werewolf to suppress his supernatural side for long.

The second the conscience leaves them and makes way for bloodlust, it’s already too late.

Jeno cannot allow that, ever. If something ever happened to you, he wouldn’t know how to handle it. Turn and kill the person responsible? Lose his mind and hurt you, like the alphas who acted to quick and hurt, wounded, killed their mates? They’re only rumors, but even rumors have a reason to be spread. Like wildfires, they make themselves known, and they haunt Jeno every second he spends with you.

Soft skin. Frail bones. That’s all you are. Precious, so easy to break. It’s not a secret that Jeno struggles with the effects of the full moon every now and then. If he cannot even assure the security of his own will, how is he going to protect you?

Lies are poison to any relationship. It’s what Jaemin keeps telling him every day and night, the second he stands up and shortly before returning to bed. They’re packmates - whenever they travel in wolf form, they have to share their heads. Whatever is hidden, becomes exposed through that bond. A blessing sometimes, but especially pesky when Jeno is busy trying to drown out his conscience.

He needs to tell you. Sooner or later. If he doesn’t do it now, he’s going to regret it forever.

His precious little mate - how is Jeno going to look you in the eyes and that he’s the most dangerous thing to ever happen to humankind?

❀ ❀ ❀

Tell her. Tell her. Tell her.

Jaemin’s voice blares through his head as Jeno changes back and grabs the clothes he laid ready before leaving. The boys like running in the woods outside of the city, but it’s bothersome to return home again after basically running around naked. Their outfit isn’t really protected from the magic that is involved with turning.

Jeno wishes his best friend would stop. He’s already in a struggle against himself, he doesn’t need anyone to meddle to feel bad. It’s already messing with Jeno’s mind. What’s even worse is that you’re so unassuming. Selfless and loving, you give your heart to Jeno without expecting anything in return.

It’s the full moon.

Claws extend themselves on instinct, no matter how much Jeno begs them to stay in place. It’s a battle for the reins inside himself - Jeno against the wolf, and Jeno’s losing. He wishes you were here. At the same time, he’s glad you’re nowhere near him or the pack.

As long as you’re not here, you’re safe. Safe is good. Safe calms him down. There’s no need to worry, except maybe about himself. Jaemin grabs his hands opens them, revealing to Jeno that he had been burying his claws in his palm without noticing.

“Dude,” Jaemin says while shaking his head. The blueberry hair whips with every move. “Don’t you realize that you’re just making it harder by keeping it to yourself? You’re the one inflicting all the stress and strain on your control. If you’d just tell her, you wouldn’t have to worry about ruining everything and losing her.”

“And how are you so sure?” Jeno lets himself be pulled to the kitchen table. He watches as Jaemin turns away from him to get a wet rag, shoulders squared, back tense. Jaemin is a happy-go-lucky type of guy. For his mood to be so soured because of Jeno, it must really bother him.

Jaemin sits alongside Jeno. Carefully, as if Jeno would break under his touch, he starts cleaning the bloody palms, even though the wounds have already healed up. Jaemin has always been worrying about him. No matter how small the wound was, he was the first one to sit Jeno down and take care of it. As a child, he even used to cry when Jeno got hurt, because he felt bad that he failed to protect the other.

When really, Jaemin had always been there for him.

No one else lets Jeno vent without expecting anything in return. There are not many who can say they’ve held Jeno in his arms because he shared his sorrow and fears with them, and only Jaemin prides himself with knowing Jeno best. If there really are platonic soulmates, he’d like to think Jaemin was his.

That’s why when the boys meet eyes, Jeno already believes him, without the other even saying anything. Jaemin grips his hands tightly, fingers interwoven like when they were younger. “Because she loves you,” Jaemin explains, soft smile on his lips. “And I’m so glad you found someone who’s going to love you endlessly for the rest of their life. Trust me. When she looks at you, it’s like she’s looking at the stars. Full of yearning and adoration. Everyone wants to be looked at like that.”

Jeno moves to rest his head on his best friend’s shoulder. It’s not often Jeno is so openly affectionate with him, but it’s the only way he can express his gratitude. Fingers cars through Jeno’s hair as Jaemin holds him close and squeezes him tightly. Friends by blood, brothers in soul.

Always and forever.

“I’ll tell her,” Jeno promises. “As soon as I see her again.”

Though that proves to be rather difficult when Jeno finds out how clumsy you are, and he keeps worrying about you walking into trouble. For example now, as you stumble right into the crowd full of vampires. He thinks he’s going to pass out.

Technically speaking, wolves aren’t allowed here. The only reason Jeno is let in is because they adore Jaemin. Everyone adores Jaemin. As long as Jeno stays out of trouble, everything should be fine. Sadly, you steer him right into it.

He should’ve seen it coming. The glass dropping to the ground makes him flinch, and he reaches to pick the broken glass up for you. If he wasn’t nervous before, he is now.

Blood drips down the shards you just cut yourself. “Oh my god,” he whispers, panic flooding his mind. He has to get you the hell out of here. Moving to pull you up, Jeno fails to stop a vampire from grabbing your hand.

This is Jeno’s daily reminder to never let you take him to a party again.

“Get the hell off of her,” he hisses at the stranger, and with a rather harsh tug, you’re at his side again. The dude growls, and on instinct, Jeno bares his canines at him. That is the single most stupid thing he could’ve done, and he hopes you haven’t seen it. He’s not gonna be able to explain it with all the alcohol that entered his system already. So he pulls you closer and hopes your sight is obscured from where he’s hidden you.

“What, is that your bitch?” The vampire snickers over his dog joke. Below you, Jeno starts fuming. Seconds later, the bloodsucker is on the ground clutching his broken nose as his own blood gushes out of it, and you shriek and cradle Jeno’s hand in your own. He doesn’t let you fuss over him, opting to pull you out of the mess this situation has turned into and heading straight out of the house.

He’s very lucky the vampires don’t come after him. Hopefully, they understood that the dude was in the fault for trying to turn his girlfriend into a midnight snack. Outside in an empty alley, you jut your lip out in a pout and try to stop the tears forming in your eyes. Jeno kisses you, hoping to calm you down, but you lean away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault,” you whimper. The anguish in your voice makes his heart hurt. Why are you taking the blame? You didn’t know you were in the presence of vampires. You’re just human. Precious cargo. He needs to protect you.

And to tell you the truth.

But for now, he tugs you closer and leans his head on youre. “No baby, that was mine,” he sighs into your hair and breathes in deeply. Your scent always makes him calm down, satisfying the wolf inside of him. “Lets get you something to eat so you can sober up.”

Unbeknownst to him, you ponder over what you saw inside the club. If your eyes were betraying to you. You blame it on the alcohol, but something inside you keeps coming back to it.

All you say is “okay”.

❀ ❀ ❀

“If you keep hurting yourself like that,” Jeno grits his teeth, “I’m going to die from worry. And it’s going to be all your fault.”

Your boyfriend treats your hand as careful as possible. When Jeno is concentrated, he looks really cute, almost innocent. Entranced by the task at hand. You adore the way his features soften up as he takes in the information infront of him. Despite him threatening you with his early death, he is easily calmed down by you combing your hair with his fingers, tugging at the strands as he hums. “It’s not my fault I’m clumsy,” you defend yourself. “I got it from my mom. It’s a (l/n) women thing.”

“Let me have a talk with your mom, then.”

“Sure. Want me to introduce you as my boyfriend officially?”

The tips of Jeno’s ears turn red, and you giggle. He always plays the big bad wolf, but truth be told, he’s just as easy to fluster as you are. Within seconds, you’re seated on his lap, hand properly bandaged, while his own disappear onto your shirt and rest on your lower back. “Cold!” you hiss at him, but Jeno only smirks.

You live for moments like these. Being with him, feeling comfortable. The best kind of feeling is Jeno being affectionate, naturally. Because he wants to be. Normally, he’s on the receiving end of the clinginess. So when he switches positions like this, it makes butterflies erupt in your belly and your heart jump in your chest.

“I’d love to meet your parents,” he mumbles. Jeno’s voice is void of mockery, instead showing you how serious he is about this. Since day one, he has always treated you like a constant. Permanent in his life. You were both in for it forever. You’re glad you found something like that to love you. “I have to thank them for giving the world such a precious daughter. But I’d also like to talk about them how much you trip over invisible stuff, or get into trouble with some sorority girls that you let trample all over you and then I have to put them in their place...”

“Hey!” You pinch his cheeks. Jeno grins. “I’m not that bad.”

“You are the number one source of stress in my life right now, but I forgive you. You are the biggest source of happiness in my life aswell.”

If you were physically able to melt, you’d do it right now. Jeno accepts the many kisses you leave on his lips, grin evident on them when you gush about him. He likes being praised. He gives it back tenfold, too. After kissing him properly, you lean back and say: “You could meet them this friday, if you want.”

Jeno tenses below you.

You bite the inside of your cheek. That’s not how you thought he’d react. “Only if you want... Sorry, I thought...”

“Of course I want to, angel. I love you.” Jeno presses his lips against your cheeks. Your heart flutters. “But I have to study this weekend. I have so much homework to catch up on. Maybe next week?”

Sure. Next week.

❀ ❀ ❀

You’ve never been to Jeno’s house.

Many nights are spent with him sleeping over at yours, disappearing under the blankets as he holds you close to his strong body and leaves love marks all over. You know he lives with his friends, and they tend to be really chaotic. Jaemin for example is a familiar face, and you’ve briefly seen Mark and Renjun. Other than them, you don’t know much about the boys your boyfriend lives with, and you don’t mind sleeping over at your appartment instead of his. It’s normal to crave privacy, especially when you’re in a relationship and want the other person all to yourself.

But sometimes, you get a little sad when you sense the things he’s hiding. The stutters, directing the conversation elsewhere - telltale signs you know by heart. You know he doesn’t distrust you; you feel it in your heart, see it in his eyes when he locks gazes and tells you everything you ever ask for. Of course it’s normal to take time with some things, before you share them with others. You really just wish you could tell him it’s okay. That you understand.

Jeno would be too busy to go out, like he told you. So, like the good girlfriend you are, you got him some comfort food and are ready to cuddle the hell out of him.

That’s a good thing, right? Then why is it that Jaemin looks so panicked when he opens the door and recognizes you?

“(y/n),” he sputters out. “I, uhh, thought Jeno already told you? He’s pretty busy, all holed up in his room.. All the work, you know...”

“I know!” you say, and hope that your smile doesn’t look as unsure as it feels like. Did they not want you here? You thought you knew Jeno’s heart, but maybe that was just you calming yourself down. “I thought I could bring him some food and help. Is it alright if I come in?”

Something rumbles loudly. It sounds like furniture breaking, and Jaemin’s eyes widen. “What was that?” you ask, shocked. Out of instinct, you move to come in, but Jaemin steps in your way, firm hands holding you back. It crashes upstairs, and you raise your head. Not like you could see through the ceiling. What the hell is going on?

“(y/n), this is a really, really bad time,” he hisses. His gaze goes back and forth from the stairs to you, as if he’s pondering over something. “I need you to leave right now. I promise Jeno will explain soon-“

“How about now?” you shoot back, slipping past the boy and making your way upstairs before Jaemin can stop you. It’s a good thing you’re sneaky. Following the noise, you flee from Jaemin and the pleads he makes for you to come back down, that Jeno’s going to kill him...

You throw open the door to the source of all the noise.

The myths; you’ve heard about them. The man who fell in love with the moon, crying wolf as he turns in the shine of its’ light. All the fantasy stories your mother told you to lull you to sleep. The books, movies, shows. They’re all fiction. What’s going on in front of you is everything but. What you see is only confirmation of what you thought of in the club.

Jeno looks you straight in the eyes, but he doesn’t look like him. Wide, yellow eyes, sharpened fangs. He’s literally chained to the wall, pulling at them and struggling to get free. Jaemin stumbles inside, letting out an “uh, oh” at the sight that’s unfolding infront of you.

“What the hell is going on?” you whisper.

Your boyfriend tugs at the chains keeping him trapped in the corner of his room. All the crashing you heard was because Jeno threw over his nightstand and is currently working on ripping out the heater that was restricting him from leaving.

Are you dreaming?

“(y/n), I really, really need you to go.” Jaemin grabs your arms, urging you to leave, probably hoping you won’t actually run and never come again. He’s interrupted by a loud snarl, the sound of Jeno breaking free - the metal manacles around his wrists fall to the ground as he pushes Jaemin away and swoops you into his arms.

“Do not touch her!”

Jaemin looks at Jeno as if he‘s trying to calm down a wild animal. Maybe he is. Jeno’s claws are ripping at your shirt as he presses you against his chest, hiding you behind him; protecting you. You can feel the elongated nails at your waist, but never once do they cut you. His grip is tight, but not hurtful. “Jeno,” Jaemin carefully speaks. “Let go of her. You’re going to hurt her.”

“Stay away,” Jeno threatens. His voice is dripping of malice, so unused to the Jeno you love. Trembling in your hold, he shields you from his best friend’s sight. Does he think Jaemin is going to jump you? “Stay away from my mate.”

Mate.

The word seems familiar. Fitting. You look Jeno in the eyes, but his own are fixed on the other boy - wolf? - waiting for him to move away. It all starts making sense. The uneasiness of talking about his friends, avoiding you at full moons.

His mate.

Jaemin steps closer. Jeno growls and pushes you further behind him, making you squeak. The sound snaps Jeno out of his anger and he quickly turns around, citrine eyes turning back into the brown you love and adore. More teddybear than wolf. “Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. “Oh my god, I’m never going to forgive myself if I hurt you, did I cut you? Do you-“

“Jeno,” you interrupt him. “Shut up.”

His mouth snaps shut. Jaemin, in utter disbelief, lets his own drop open.

Jeno watches as you hold his hands to your face, and you’re glad the claws retract when you smile at him. No matter what, Jeno always thinks about you first. That’s why you fell in love with him. His caring nature towards you, the sense of being protected. Even now, he managed to forget his fury because he was so afraid of inflicting harm upon you. “I’m alright,” you finally say. Calmness washes over Jeno, and Jaemin breathes out in relief, stepping out of the room to give you two some privacy. “Oh my god,” your boyfriend repeats again, and then he finally leans down to embrace you and hide his face in your neck.

Maybe you’re insane. Any normal person would’ve left the second they sensed something was wrong with their significant other. But you’re not normal. You’re Jeno’s mate. You love him.

“You should’ve told me,” you whisper in his ear. He leaves kisses all over your throat, now finally at ease. Because you’re here, maybe? You’d like for that to be true.

“Sure. That would’ve ended pretty good. ‘Hey babe, I’m a supernatural being who loses control every once in a while. Totally normal.’”

“I’ve always wanted my own Jacob Black,” you reply to that. Jeno groans, but you only break out into laughter and pull him closer. You should feel scared, but instead it feels like you’re in the safest place on earth. “Seriously, Jeno. I love you. No matter who you are. Even though it was kinda scary to see you like this... But now I finally know why I miss you all the time. It was meant to be.”

“I’m glad you think that way,” Jeno mumbles, lips chasing yours. His kisses are soft, careful. Loving. If there’s one thing you can always be sure of, it’s Jeno’s love. “Because now is the perfect opportunity to get those manacles off of me so I can take you on the date you deserve. Without hiding anything.”

“You promise? Maybe I need another kiss to be absolutely sure you’re serious.”

There’s nothing else Jeno loves more than doing just that.

#i should proofread this but i rlly dont want to so . here u go #i’m sorry it took so long #i love u 🥺🤍#lee jeno #nct dream #nct #lee jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #lee jeno fluff #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #lee jeno scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios

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iselsis · 4 years

Text

Unholy Matrimony 2

Jack had left early in the morning two days later for his meeting with Mr. Wayne, and Tim had been waiting in the grand foyer almost without a break ever since.

He knew, like, intellectually, the Mr. Wayne wouldn’t buy him, because, duh, Batman, but he was having a hard time convincing his body of that. His heart pounded wildly, his hands were clammy and gross, and his stomach roiled, both with heat pain and at the thick scent of distress and pheromones in the room. Janet had tried to order him to his room, but he kept sneaking back, and eventually, she just gave up and opened windows.

In the end, he decided that he was less worried about what would happen if Mr. Wayne bought him, and more worried about what would happen when he didn’t. His parents were going to be furious, and while he kind of hoped that they’d just spend a lot of time thinking about what to do next, go on another trip, and forget, like they usually did with commitments they made to him, he didn’t think that that was going to happen this time.

After a few hours, Janet wordlessly stepped into the room. Neither of his parents had spoken to him since the first morning except to snap order and make absolutely sure how much of a disappointment he was. Instead of acknowledging him or snapping at him to stop making her house smell like a crime scene, she leaned against the banister to watch the front door with him. He supposed that meant that his dad would be back soon, and his gut wrenched again. He wasn’t sure if that would be good or bad, but at least it would mean an end to the waiting.

It was only a few more minute before they heard the Drake’s rental (they were never in town long enough to need their own car) roar up the front drive with a worrying speed. His dad was either really excited, or really mad. Tim was leaning towards mad, given the whole “trying to sell my kid to the unholy terror of the night” thing, but that wasn’t assured, he realized. He might have drastically mistyped Batman, and the real Bruce Wayne was more of a “do as I say and not as I do” type person, or maybe he didn’t really mind child brides. Like, he’d stop a grab & go rape, but if they were, like, married, then maybe he wouldn’t really mind.

The door flew open and Jack stormed into the foyer, his whole body and scent screaming rage.

Tim breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn’t getting married, then.

Janet frowned in confusion. “He refused.”

“Refused? Refusing is one thing, but that bastard,” Jack snarled, hurling his briefcase at the floor, where it landed on its spine with a resounding crack and an eruption of papers. “That absolute bastard had the nerve to lecture me about how we should ‘respect and treasure our son’ and ‘cherish the time we have with him.’”

Oh, that was… That was beautiful. Poetic. The small part of him that had been worried about Mr. Wayne actually wanting him that way curled up and died of laughter. The thought of his parents actually following through on Mr. Wayne’s suggestion and respecting him and cherishing their time with him, though, was just too much.

Jack turned and shot a glare at Tim, like it was his fault that Mr. Wayne didn’t want to buy him, and Tim struggled to keep his grin in check.

He must not have been able to keep his amusement from his scent, because his father’s expression darkened, and he stalked toward Tim.

“You think that this is funny, bitch?” Jack snatched Tim’s collar before Tim could make a run for it and shook him harshly.

Tim stumbled, throwing his head back in submission to bare his throat. Jack growled and slapped Tim hard across the face with enough force to send him crashing to the ground.

His head hit the tile hard, making his vision swim with disjointed shapes and blurred edges. He tried to get up, but his father’s shoe slammed into his ribs and he was down again with a cry of pain. The next kick landed in his stomach, then another to his ribs, then his mother’s voice was saying something quietly that Tim couldn’t hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“He deserves it, pompous little omega brat!” Jack snapped venomously.

Tim chanced a glance up, but found only a furious glare from his father and a cool, calculating stare from his mother.

“True.” She lifted her chin so that she was looking down her nose at Tim even more than she had been before. “But we won’t get as good a price for him if he’s broken and ugly. His only asset is his pretty face, dear. Luthor or Queen might be interested if he looks decent.”

A small, ridiculous part of Tim was thrilled, because calling him pretty was the nicest thing his mom had said about him in years. A larger part of Tim cringed at the idea of having to marry Lex Luthor or Oliver Queen. Mr. Wayne was Batman, which meant that of course he would never agree to marry a kid. Tim was sure that the drunken playboy role was just an act.

Lex Luthor, from what he had overheard from his parents, was arrogant, cruel, manipulative, and completely amoral, and that was just with his business partners. Tim was sure that he wouldn’t object to being given a child bride, and Tim also knew that his parents had wanted a deal with Luthor almost as badly as they wanted a deal with Wayne.

Oliver Queen, he knew less about. He did know that he was the CEO of Queen Industries. His parents didn’t think much of him. He was apparently what Bruce Wayne pretended to be: a drunk playboy with too much money and low moral character. He was a useful idiot, though, and they might try to get the better of him with a stilted business deal and a young omega. For all those faults, though, Tim was pretty sure that he wasn’t a criminal.

Jack growled and kicked Tim once more before storming out of the room.

Janet’s lips curled into a frown of distaste. She didn’t have to say anything to communicate just how disappointed she was. After a few moments, she calmly followed her husband out of the room.

Tim tried to get up, but it hurt too much to move. He lay there, curled up in a fetal position on the tile floor, where at least the icy tiles numbed the pain of his bruises and heat, for a long time.

Finally, Tim dragged himself up off the floor, and up two flights of stairs to his bedroom. If he even had his own house, he was going to get a ground floor bedroom, like a sensible person. Or maybe he’d just take suppressants for the heat, and stay away from angry alphas.

Tim slipped into his room and shut the door behind him louder than he would have normally dared with his parents home, but he was hurt, and they were already mad, so he didn’t think it mattered if he slammed the door.

Tim wanted to just curl up into a ball and fall asleep for the next five years, but he had research to do first.

He dragged his laptop out from under his bed, where he’d hidden it in case his dad took it like he’d taken Tim’s phone. Jack had said that Tim didn’t need it anymore, but Tim had a feeling that it was really more out of a fear that Tim would go on social media and paint his parents and their company in a bad light in an attempt to get out of a marriage.

Tim was smart, though, or at the very least, smarter than that.

Options were limited for omegas. He could live on the streets, but he doubted he’d survive long without a pack. Jason Todd had done it, but Jason Todd was an alpha and he was strong enough that Batman had impulse-adopted him to be his Robin. If Tim wanted a prayer of survival, he’d probably have to find a pimp or an alpha. He didn’t want to, but if his other option was Luthor… He’d have to see.

Foster care, especially in Gotham, was basically just the prostitute option. He’d have a guaranteed roof, and probably food, but he wouldn’t get to keep his money and his parents would probably be able to get him back. Gotham’s omega group homes were also hotbeds for abuse without pay.

Tim’s main problem was that what his parents were doing wasn’t technically illegal. Even though omegas weren’t legally considered property anymore, they were second class citizens. If their parents wanted, they could marry them off to any alpha they wanted. Most didn’t anymore, but most also weren’t negotiating multimillion-dollar business deals. His new husband would be his guardian until he was eighteen, and he couldn’t even be divorced until then.

At the very least, Tim was the only one in the marriage who could request a divorce. Something about the alpha assuming responsibility since the omega had little real-world experience before the marriage. If he wanted, once he was eighteen, he could just be really really annoying until whatever alpha married him agreed to give him a severance check and alimony.

That plan probably wouldn’t work. There weren’t any rules about beating your omega for being a brat, or marital rape.

He needed to make a plan, and for that, he needed information.

A search on Lex Luthor turned up relatively innocuous results, until Tim started trying to get around any doctoring of the algorithm by adding keywords like crime and conspiracy. Most people turned their noses up as soon as the word conspiracy was uttered, but Tim had figured out that the richest man in Gotham ran around town dressed as a bat and beating people up with his underage accomplice all because of an acrobatic move. Small clues were important, and rich people are weird.

It turned out that the internet suspected Lex Luthor of a lot. Illegal weapons deals, links to supervillains, human testing, abuse, rape, murder. There wasn’t much that he wasn’t suspected of. Several of his more vocal accusers had turned up “suicided” as some had termed it. There was one, a CK, whose allegations of Luthor’s crimes was so extensive that Tim wasn’t sure if it could actually be true that one man had committed so many crimes.

Luthor was a hard no. Tim would rather chance the streets. Tim would rather die. Heck, if he wanted to die, marrying Luthor would probably take care of that pretty quickly.

Oliver Queen was a different story. Tim couldn’t find many accusations against him of anything, and the accusations he did find were mostly just being a drunkard and a whore. He didn’t seem so bad, or so smart. He seemed like he’d be nice enough, and Tim might even be able to manipulate Mr. Queen into letting him go to school. He’d probably be safer than the streets even if he couldn’t, and if he wasn’t, then at least the streets of Star City weren’t nearly as dangerous as the streets of Gotham.

It struck him while he was looking at a photo of Mr. Queen at a charity gala for polio or rickets or something. Mr. Queen’s beard seemed…familiar.

There was no way.

Tim quickly split the screen and pulled up every picture the public had of Star City’s Green Arrow on one side, comparing it to the picture of Oliver Queen from the newspaper.

How.

Had.

No one.

Noticed?

The facial hair was the exact same, the build, the hair color. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to wear a mask over his mouth and nose than over his eyes? It would take away the risk of the domino slipping over his eyes and actually cover extremely identifiable marks.

His heart sank. Mr. Wayne wouldn’t buy him, because he was a hero. Mr. Queen was a hero too.

He was being sold to Luthor.

#batman #bruce wayne is a good dad #tim drake #bruce wayne #omega tim drake #alpha beta omega #alpha bruce wayne #adoption #accidental baby acquisition #fake marriage au

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weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.

My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough.

“oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.”

A flying toenail hit my eye.

“WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.

“Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

“oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!”

“IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back.

I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle.

“All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

“You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.”

“Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.”

I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.”

“Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?”

This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did.

After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t.

And he didn’t.

And therein lay the problem.

It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

“Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.”

“Ew, he smells like meat.”

“RENNY!!”

“I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

“He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.”

She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window.

“Hey Renny?”

“Hm.”

A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?”

“Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.”

“Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.

“Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?”

Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first.

“I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.”

“Oh.”

“It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

“The divorce or your virginity.”

“Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis.

“I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more.

Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?”

Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him.

“Maybeeee…?”

But then there was last night.

I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves?

“No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.”

Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.”

“Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this.

Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly.

But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him?

You were right, Harry. You are fucked.

I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh.

I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

Renny was right.

I needed therapy.

The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

“Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?”

DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please.

I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

“NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

“Fine. I can keep a secret.”

I was getting a little too good at that lately.

She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious.

“Yeah, more than you know.”

And I was serious, too.

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

I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs.

Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery. .

“Woah did you hear that?”

Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.”

It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next.

A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did.

“It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts.

“How’d you know that?”

She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance.

I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick.

Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away.

My hand wavered.

Odd.

Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors.

I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over.

“Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”

Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster.

“I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.”

Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too.

“Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed.

We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from.

“Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment.

My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?”

“Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-”

“My God,” David proclaimed.

Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.”

“Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass.

Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

“Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased.

He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.”

We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left.

“Look closer.”

My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang.

“Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin.

The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot.

“Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

“Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.”

“How so?”

“Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.”

He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside.

He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles.

“They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said.

A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.”

“Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.”

“Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him.

I felt him come closer.

“Listen now,” he urged.

I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder.

“Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.”

I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed.

“Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?”

I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous.

“What do you hear?” he urged.

“I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped.

But right when I was about to open my eyes-

I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter.

“Birds?” I opened my eyes.

“Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself.

“Why are there birds?”

“We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half.

My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.”

“All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes.

“Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.”

“What do you mean?”

She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow.

I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second.

I was naked.

In all of them.

One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.

Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet.

The wine had dropped.

I’d dropped it.

I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb.

“Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked.

I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe.

He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees.

Because that’s what it was.

An exposure.

A stranger could pay to have me in their home.

The floor spun, vision spotting.

My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly.

“I didn’t want this.”

And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home.

part 22

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nsheetee · 4 years

Text

6 Shots of Tequila

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: College AU | Crack, with some Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: implied female reader, lots of alcohol, doie throws up, some swearing

Summary: After Doyoung attempts to impress you by downing 6 shots of tequila, he throws up on your skirt. And confesses his feelings for you right after.

doyoung is not a party person

never in his 3 years of college has he ever stepped foot into a party, or even thought about going to one

and now, on his 4th and final year, he doesn’t want to go to a party just to spite his friends and keep his streak going

but when he hears that you are going to his friends’ first party of the school year, he thinks again

he honestly hates the way he’s a fool for you, and he’s sure you don’t even realize it

doyoung has gone through (almost) his whole college career without catching feelings for someone

but the minute you walked into the class we has TA-ing last semester, he was caught by cupid, an arrow forced through his heart

it doesn’t help that you're in the same major as him

he constantly sees you in with his other friends that are studying in the same classes

you frequently ask him about the best classes to take in your future years

there isn’t a day that doyoung doesn’t interact you

and he loves hates it

so, like a lovestruck clown, doyoung sits on his bed in his underwear and socks facing his open closet, wondering what in the hell college students wear to parties that are held on wednesday nights

why is the party on a wednesday night??

don’t these kids have class tomorrow morning???

doyoung decides to screw it and picks a random button up shirt, tucking it into some pants he found, and buttoning every button

he walks into the party, the stares of his friends who are standing around the kitchen island are almost worth dressing up and coming here

“do my eyes deceive me or is that our doyoung?”

“alright, who paid you to come here?”

“no, what possessed you and made you come here?”

doyoung rolls his eyes at the various over reactions of jaehyun, jungwoo, and haechan, meeting them at the island and awkwardly looking over the copious amount of alcohol cluttered before him

“I thought I might as well try this party thing once before graduation.”

“seriously. what possessed you? do we need to have a quick exorcism before other people get here? I know this guy-”

“haechan.” doyoung warns him, and he leans away with his arms up in surrender

the party kicks into full gear in a matter of minutes, the music in the living room turning up to the max, people showing up and taking back shots as if their lives depend on it

jaehyun made doyoung a drink a while ago, but it only took doyoung one sip to realize he doesn’t like it

“sorry...” he whispers to a house plant, pouring the rest of his drink over its soil after being blocked out of the kitchen and too afraid to go to the bathroom

“doyoung?” he hears a voice over the loud music, almost knocking over the plant and dropping his plastic cup at the same time

he turns around to see you smiling at him, his heart doing he stupid “du-du du-du” thing over and over again

doyoung thinks he might choke on his own breath as he notices you’re wearing a skirt, not something he usually sees you in around campus

it takes his whole might to not stare at your legs

get a grip doyoung! you’re not even drunk, yet you’re acting like a major fool already

“h-hey” he curses his stutter and then straightens out his back, noticing the clear cup in your hands, signifying that there is no alcohol in it, “you’re not drinking?”

it’s not the greatest conversation starter, but doyoung is curious as to why you’re drinking water at a party like this

“yeah, I don’t drink. I came with my friend to make sure she doesn’t do something stupid that she’ll regret in the morning.” you explain, shrugging

your small act of kindness makes doyoung’s heart melt, and he mentally cringes at himself

before he can think of what to say next, haechan appears next to you both

“what are you two doing all alone over here? come to the kitchen, jungwoo is about to do shots!” haechan drags you by the arm through the kitchen door, effectively pulling doyoung with him without even touching him

in the kitchen, jungwoo has 6 shots of alcohol in front of him, winwin (a friend of doyoung who is also in his major) has a phone out with the stopwatch displayed on the screen

doyoung’s body moves by itself, placing him between you and haechan and effectively breaking haechan’s hold on you

he doesn’t think either of you noticed his actions, and he could hit himself for acting like one of those jealous freshman he sees around campus

winwin counts down and jungwoo takes back the 6 shots in 19 seconds, the crowd cheering for him as he sets the last shot glass upside down

“that’s the new record everyone!” the students in the kitchen go crazy and ruffle a drunk jungwoo’s hair, slapping him on the back for his amazing drinking skills

“wow,” you call out next to doyoung, “he’s gonna have a headache tomorrow, but that was weirdly impressive.” you mindlessly comment to doyoung

but doyoung is thinking

thinking hard

“is there anyone who wants to challenge that time?”

“me.”

okay, maybe doyoung isn’t thinking at all

half of the crowd’s jaws drop when doyoung steps forwards (including yours) and the other half laughs, thinking it’s just one of doyoung’s dry jokes

“really?” winwin asks hesitantly

“yeah, how hard could it be?”

doyoung feels confident one moment, but when 6 new shots are poured out in front of him and more bodies pile into the kitchen to see the infamous stick stiff doyoung take back 6 shots in less than 19 seconds...

he doesn’t feel super confident anymore

“hey,” you appear at his side, “you don’t have to do this. you can back out now.” there’s worry in your voice and concern in your eyes, but doyoung doesn’t want to back down

if this drinking competition is a way to impress you, then he’ll do it

no matter how stupid it is

“it’s okay. I got this.” doyoung voice is surprisingly smooth, until your hand lands on his bicep to give him a supportive squeeze

he almost melts into your touch, getting one last bit of energy to pull him through the next few minutes

doyoung rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt

then, the crowd counts down, and the timer starts

doyoung takes shot after shot, the cheers of everyone in front of him drowning out everything else

his throat is soar after the first shot but he keeps going, almost like a machine, drinking all of the alcohol in front of him

you’re absolutely stunned by doyoung

never in a million years did you think he would do something like this

you have to admit...

...it’s kinda hot

the way his forearms flex with every kick back of a shot and how his silver chains underneath his shirt tease his chest

you grow a little dizzy from watching him

doyoung lands the last shot glass upside down on the countertop, winwin stops the timer and laughs before letting everyone know doyoung’s time

“17 seconds”

the crowd goes absolutely mad, the small kitchen becoming engulfed with students of all ages cheering for doyoung

he holds himself up against the counter, and unlike the rest of the people in the kitchen who pay no more attention on doyoung, you notice his swaying figure and bowed head

grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the stuffy kitchen, you find your way to the balcony, opening the sliding door and closing it behind you

no one else is here, and the fresh night air hits doyoung across the face like a pillow, alarming but harmless

he breaths deeply, now leaning over the balcony, eyes closed and hair ruffled by the wind

you rub circles onto his back, a reflex from when you take care of your friend while she’s puking up her guts after parties, and wait a few minutes while doyoung catches his bearings

he stands up as straight as he can, wobbling on his legs as he attempts to look at you

“you’re so pretty.” he slurs out of nowhere, and you’re immediately taken back, heat rushing to your face at the unexpected compliment, “seriously pretty. do you know how long I’ve been wanting to tell you that?”

“t-thank you, are you feeling better now? I can always tell when someone is about to-” suddenly, doyoung hiccups and you take a step back

unfortunately, stepping back does nothing to shield yourself from doyoung’s throw up

most of the contents from his stomach end up on the balcony floor, but some land on your skirt as you hold onto him to keep him from falling over

your eyes screw shut as doyoung leans over, resting his hands on his knees, seriously winded

“c-can I tell you something?” he asks, seemingly unbothered by how he just threw up on you

“what is it?” you squeak out, trying to keep doyoung talking so he doesn’t pass out, since you know from experience that that’s what usually happens after throwing up

“I like you, like, a lot. you make me a fool for you, I just took 6 shots of tequila because I thought you might be impressed. I think I might do anything for you if you ask me too.” your heart starts thrumming in your chest at the confession, you try to hide the smile coming to your face as you open your eyes

doyoung is bent at your height, eyes glossy and half-lidded, lips dry from consuming all the dehydrating alcohol

“I know I’m severely drunk right now, but I’m being 100% serious. I really like you.” you laugh at him, at how he still hasn’t realized he just threw up on you, and take a moment to feel the giddiness in your stomach and the stutter of your heart at his words

“let’s get you home, and tomorrow morning we can talk more about us? yeah?”

“wait. us? d-does that mean you like me, too?”

“depends if I can wash your throw up out of this skirt. it’s my favorite.”

----------

doyoung wakes up, barely, to a pounding in his head

he thinks it’s the construction outside that’s causing it

but he instantly remembers all the alcohol he consumed in a short time last night

he sighs

this is the worst part of drinking

he tries to rack his memories for what happened after the drinking challenge, but nothing comes to mind, and he wonders how he got home

a dip in his bed startles him and he opens his eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight coming into his room

but he’s still able to see you sitting next to him, the button up he was wearing yesterday over your frame, and the now very obvious indent in his bed of someone sleeping next to him last night

“morning. here, take this. it’ll make your headache go away.”

doyoung jaw is unhinged and you can’t help but giggle at his confused state

how in the hell was doyoung only just thinking and hoping of spending mornings like this with you less than 24 hours ago, and know you’re here

with him

in his bed

in his clothes

doyoung doesn’t know what he did last night for this to happen

but he sure as hell doesn’t regret it

(yet)

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lostonehero · 3 years

Text

Wally is certain q-Victor at this point is going crazy, or he is uncomfortable where they are working. Its been a month of trying to find the source of the ash smell behind the church, and even with all the soil samples deep ditches, and even several rainstorms the smell persists.

"Are you sure you're ok, you keep looking behind you like something is going to get you." Wally sighs filling the hole back up. "Not everyone is out to get you even with what conspiracies you believe in."

Wally coukd barely hear the response since Victor seemed more standoffish, and small out of his hero persona. Granted the man was taller then him, he just looked like he was lost sometimes. He was also jumpy, not in the way a paranoid person was, but more like a survivor of abuse was.

"I'm not fond of churches." Victor says in a quiet voice.

Wally pauses not wanting to tempt fate asking why, but the curiosity ate away at his hesitation. "Why? Did your family make you go every Sunday?"

Victor turned around and approached Wally, and suddenly Wally felt really small and scared.

"I didn't have a family. My mom was a victim of rape and she was forced to give me up and sent away." Victor pauses seemingly unsure of what to say next. "The church I grew up in wasn't the best." He swallows and his face is a mix of sadness and fear.

Wally was taken aback, he didn't expect for Victor to tell him something that personal. He really was getting more nervous feeling like he shouldn't know this. He opens his mouth trying to think of the right words and he can't. He can only ask a question. "Want to get some food?"

.........

Victors thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Why did he tell Wally that? Why did he even feel comfortable enough to talk about himself? They were coworkers, not friends. He didn't have friends, just a aunt and a uncle who found him by accident. Why did he tell him, and why did he agree to a meal after the fact, they both stunk of ash with no idea why, and this isn't the first time Wally has asked him to eat after a day of searching. Well first he chalked it up to Wally having a very fast metabolism due to his speed, but it wasn't just food sometimes he asked to see a movie, or even watch him song in hub city.

Wally was planning something for him, and he didn't know why he was following along. It could be a trap for all he knew. Vic sighed and took another bite from his burger.

"So Vic do you have any new theories why the ash smell persist?" Wally asks breaking the silence Vic was using to stew in his own thoughts.

He looks up swallowing and just sighs. "It doesn't make any sense we have looked at every angle. Even doused the entire place with water. We know that the smell stops in a 33 feet diameter around the church, yet the church...." he stops as a uncomfortable feeling drenched him. "The church isn't even corrupt as far as I researched, they even chip in for taxes which they are exempt from."

Wally gives Victor a look. "You looked into the church?"

"I don't trust the church as a institution, nor as a separate entity." Victor growls trying to get his thoughts in order before he spoke again. "I told you I have had bad experiences with them."

Wally pauses and takes a French fry from Victor's plate and slowly munches on it. "So we are back to square one?"

Vic nods and pushes his plate away leaving his burger half finished. He didn't feel comfortable with a mystery that didn't lead anywhere even with a lot of effort. It didn't sit right with him. He looked up and watched Wally eat his food that he left. This had become common place after a long day together, he didn't know if he like that this was becoming a habit.

..........

Wally was on watchtower duty and he swore he could feel eyes on him at all times. He couldn't understand how Vic handles the rumor mill that spins just about him. Now Wally is the talk of the tower, the flash and question working together for over a month now. Everyone is treating this like a scandal.

"Wally how many times do I need to tell you to keep your elbows off the control table." A stern voice alerts Wally to the possibility that the heavy sighing wasn't his own.

"Oh Bats hey I wasn't slacking off." He gives a hearty fake laugh

Batman for all his dark persona sounded more like a disappointed dad dealing with unruly children. "Wally why have you been working with the Question? I understand the smell of ash in that area is concerning but there is no source and you shouldn't have gotten him involved."

Wally shrinks back feeling like a kid getting a lecture on why smoking is bad for you. He takes a deep breath then gives a heavy sigh. "Just because you have no information on him like you do on everyone else in the league doesn't mean he is dangerous besides I actually know his name and face." As soon as that came out of his mouth he wanted to stuff the words back in.

"You saw his face?"

"What no, you misheard Bats." Wally failed trying to lie getting the attetion of the boy scout in the room.

"You mean excuse my rudeness, that crackpot theorist. You actually saw his face Wally?" Superman came closer to the pair inserting himself into the conversation.

Wally wished he was anywhere but here at this moment. "You know what I forgot something or other.... uh bye." And he ran for his life to the cafeteria spotting Vic sitting with the three heros he seem to have befriended.

.......

"Que so is it true you've been hanging out with the flash?" Huntress smiles under her mask enjoying the new gossip around the watchtower.

Victor looked up, but nobody could tell in his mask. "Helena we are working on a case of a ask smell that lingers even after rain. I highly doubt the rumors are as scandalous as you seem to think."

Black canary didn't seem to buy this answer from what Victor could see. His eyes then trailed to Green arrow who looked like he was trying not to seem interested but he was failing at that. Vic gave a heavy sigh.

"Oh so there is more?" Helena smirks. "Spill the tea Que, I didn't know you swung for the other team."

If they could see his face they woukd see confusion. "This isn't a sports game Helena, we are coworkers."

Now all three of them were giving him a look. He didn't bring up the concept of sports into the conversation. Why were they acting like he was the crazy one?

"Que that isn't what she meant." Dinah gave a odd look. "She meant that you are into men."

"I don't understand why my homksexuality is a part of the conversation now." Vic sighs rubbing his temples. "When I asked for help on this issue I didn't think you guys would make it a conversation on my sexuality."

Victor just sighed and got up. "I appreciate the confirmation that you also smell the ash in that area, but besides that you guys aren't helping." He frowns under his mask. "I thought I was clear that I enjoyed men when I rejected your offer for a date Helena."

"I honestly just thought I wasn't your type, I guess I wasn't completely off." Helena sighs sliding a 20$ to Oliver.

Dinah mirrored the action, and Oliver just smiles. "See i can bet proper Question. By the way are we still on for sports this weekend?"

"You mean a loud argument over the game that consist of nothing but physical combat masked poorly as a popular staple of American culture to make the black market rich with gambling, then yes." Vic nods and leaves but smacks into Wally.

"Shoot sorry V-Question yeah Question I'mlateandreallyneedtogo." He speeds off leaving Victor's notes on the ground where they fell.

The three heroes behind Victor shared a look of shock when he turned to face them. It only took the beginning of another name to the Question for there faces to light up in recognition.

"YOU GAVE HIM YOUR NAME." The three shouted causing the cafeteria to erupt in loud conversation.

Victor had many things to regret now, more so half his notes are covered in a spilled soda making them useless, and he needed to find a new lead, and maybe take a break from staying in the watchtower.

........

Its been a week since that incident, Victor was in his own apartment trying to salvage his notes. He was exhausted more so then normal. Maybe it was because he hasn't been sleeping, or maybe its because his own skin feels tight from suppressing his demonic side, and not letting his other parts out. He stands up and just walks to his bed and faceplants into his bed.

He hear his window open, and he didn't really care for who came through it. "Still punishing yourself, or did you forget to release your other form again."

"Micheal get out of my apartment." Victor really did not need a visit from his uncle.

Micheal takes a feather and stabs it into Victor's back causing black horns sprout and curl like ram horns on Victor's skull along with black spines down his spine to a long black tail with a purple flame on the end, which wasn't anything to the large boney black wings that erupted from his back knocking over his lamp, and theory board creating a mess in the surprisingly spotless apartment.

"Feeling better tired eyes?" Micheal says taking out a flask. "So I actually followed up with the thing you asked me to do, and what I can tell you is." He takes a large swig of his flask. "Is that you are fucking lucky you haven't been caught."

That actually got Victor to sit up curling his wings around him like a cloak. "Caught? Micheal what are you talking about?"

"Well if you ask me there's been many angels on high alert in that area, something uh something about the realms being thin or some shit." Micheal shrugs.

Victor sighs and cringes at the smell of alcohol coming off the angel. "Why should I believe you? You're nothing but a drunkard who dwells on the past."

Micheal raises his brow and gets a crude smile on his face. "Oh my you met someone there."

"He's just a coworker from the watchtower nothing special." Victor lays back down

And the smile leaves Micheal's face. "Right well uh since I'm here want to play some chess?"

Victor glances back at the drunk, and just sighs. Micheal was a ruined man when they met, Gabriel was a much better conversationalist, and wasn't so crude. They were the closest he ever got to a family he guessed, but it still hurt that they still hid things from him like he was some sort of child who hasn't gone through ages of abuse and had to grow up fast. They only found him by accident on the street.

"Kid i can see the gears moving in your head." Micheal forces him to sit up and summons a chess board and pieces and a table to set it down on. "If I win you eat and shower, you win I'll leave."

Victor frowns, it was always the same bet with him, and he always let Micheal win. Maybe he did have a soft spot for the drunk even if he reeks. Besides he gave him some good information regarding this case. He needed to be more careful, and maybe use Wally in his place that could work better for both to solve the mystery. Thats a great idea he should inform Wally at once. When did he start calling Wally, Wally, and not the flash or coworker in his mind.

"Checkmate." Michael's voice threw Victor back into reality. "What kind of food you want kid?"

"What? Oh uh something healthy i guess." Victor hums getting lost in his thoughts again.

Micheal gave a look to the younger man full of concern and maybe a bit if hope.

.......

Micheal might be a drunk, and desperately wants to be fallen, but he still cared for his nephew. He watched Victor invest himself in a text conversation with someone he had gotten trust enough to give his name, face, and even number to. Maybe he was finally able to move foward and trust.

"So who the lucky man you're after." Micheal smiled seeing Vic sputter and hiss his wings spreading out in protest embarrassment.

"He is a coworker we've been looking at that area you keep telling me is off limits, so Wally investigates and I take the the research." Vic huffs and looks away.

Micheal knew he was only one of the few who was close enough to Victor to get him to feel safe enough to get riled up. However this new man in the picture has got Victor to keep a stupid smile on his face. He knows its been about a week since his last visit, but Victor looks healthier, well he looks like he has been eating better. Without the benefit of his inhuman nature he would be skin and bone.

Micheal sighs to himself taking another drink, his thoughts drifting to the boys mother his sister. He still hasn't even told him who his mother is, does this make him bad? Probably. But when Victor told them both that he was forced to watch the tapes of his mom being violated and giving birth, that alone made his blood boil. So they look after Victor, they may of found him a bit too late but hey better then nothing.

"What no witty retort? You seem off today Micheal, you've been staring at your flask more then drinking it." Victor frowns taking the empty plates and cleaning them.

Micheal sighs. "This place looks too clean Victor, its like you don't even live here." He looks back towards Victor who has a frown on his face.

"Are you actually worried that I'm looking into the ash place?"

Micheal wasn't expecting that question, nor the quiet meek tone Victor used when asking. "Well yeah everybody up in the clouds is freaking out about it. I just don't want to see you in the crossfire. A human like your so called coworker wouldn't matter to them. You being well mostly demon however would." Micheal grimaced his flask is empty. He could just refill it but he didn't have the energy today.

Micheal watched Victor pause drying off the dishes. "Should I thank you for caring?"

Micheal shakes his head "nah I'm just trying to be your guardian angel" he gives a crude smile making Victor give a small one in return.

Thats all he needed before he headed to another bar for the night. "Goodnight kid"

Victor just waved him goodbye and shut the window closed behind him.

#victor sage #vic sage #the question #question #the flash #wally west #dcau #dc comic #dc #superman #batman #green arrow #black canary #huntress #long post

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andrew-is-foxy · 4 years

Text

Foxes candy store AU

Andrew and the Foxes work at a homemade candy store and Matt’s new friend Neil comes in to see what the fuss is about.

Based on this prompt here by @a-case-for-wonder Only changes are- Renee doesn’t own the store, they’re still college students, and Kevin and Neil still play ‘a sport’.

TW: self-harm scar mention, swearing, sparring Word Count: 2.7k

There weren’t many things in life that Andrew enjoyed, but his job was one of them. Or, at the very least, it was something that he tolerated because it was less boring than the alternative. His therapist, Betsy Dobson, had found the job for him, saying he needed to find a daily routine, and find something he was good at. Betsy knew the owners of the homemade candy store, Abby and David Wymack, and they’d been willing to give Andrew a job even with his juvenile record. The store was managed by a young woman with curly black hair named Dan, and her boyfriend Matt manned the cash register. Out the back, Andrew had gotten his twin brother Aaron and their cousin Nicky jobs boiling and making the candy. Out the front in the display window was Andrew, his best friend Renee and her girlfriend Allison. They worked in full view of the store behind a glass window so that the customers could see what they were doing. Nicky, a marketing major, said it was a strategy to get interest from people walking past and also show the customers that it was all handmade. Andrew pulled the logs of candy and rolled it out into the small little rolls for Renee to cut, and Allison sat at the table sorting them into neat little packages and making all the displays, gift boxes and wrapping look beautiful. The owners’ son, Kevin, often haunted the store after his college classes or on his days off from training for whatever sport it was that he did. Andrew didn’t really care so he’d never paid enough attention. The only thing Kevin was good for was being eye candy and sometimes interesting enough to talk to when he wasn’t talking about sports. Aaron and Nicky knew what sport it was, seeing as though they spoke to Kevin about it when they were at the college dorms, but Andrew was more interested in passing his degree, reading, and sleeping. All the kids that worked at the candy shop were students at the state college not far away, but Andrew only associated with Renee outside of the store if he could help it, no matter that he shared a dorm with his family and Kevin.

“Did you try this one yet?” Renee asked from beside Andrew as he worked on a log of candy longer and thicker than his arms, needing to make it as thin as his fingers.

“No, not yet, but it looks like it’s watermelon,” Andrew answered. Renee was cutting up the thin rolls he’d already made that day and she held one of the wonky pieces out to him to try. He put it in his mouth, smiling a little bit at the sweet explosion in his mouth, and went back to working. Andrew loved sugar, more than he loved anything else. He would live off it if Kevin didn’t police their kitchen like it was his only goal in life. Kevin also had a habit of ransacking Andrew’s hidden stashes of candy every now and again and throwing them away. Fucking athletes.

“Yeah, watermelon,” Andrew said, rolling the candy across his tongue and into his cheek. Renee fed one to Allison and popped one into her own mouth, nodding appreciatively as she did so.

“Arms hurting yet himbo?” Allison called from the other side of Renee and Andrew flicked her the bird without looking over. Allison had called him ‘himbo’ so many times since he’d started working at the store that he’d had to Google what it meant. He’d been surprised that it meant attractive, but unintelligent man. He’d been torn between being flattered and offended, because Andrew was a lot smarter than he led people to believe. Still, it was better than being called ‘monster’, so he’d decided to let it go. The truth was Andrew’s arms weren’t hurting yet. He was good at this job because he was strong. When you’re five foot nothing at nineteen years old, you kind of need something to make you feel better about yourself which was why Andrew could nearly match Matt in the weights room. Nearly. Matt was over six foot and had been raised by a champion boxer, so he’d had a head start. While Andrew had been shuttled through the foster care system and wallowed away in juvie, Matt had been learning to box. The bell above the door jangled and Andrew looked up to see who’d come in and was unsurprised to see Kevin walking past Allison’s newly done display shelf. He barely glanced at Matt as he walked behind the register, but he did say hello to Andrew and smiled politely to Renee, turning it into a grimace when he looked at Allison, and disappeared into the back room.

“He’s such a douche canoe,” Allison muttered. Andrew didn’t point out that the two of them used to make out at parties when they were drunk before Allison and Renee started dating.

“He looked happy today,” Renee said instead. Allison wrinkled her nose and Andrew turned back to his work.

“Kevin never looks happy. None of the monsters do,” Allison replied. Andrew resisted rolling his eyes.

“Nicky does!” Renee said, as calm and placating as always.

“Nicky doesn’t count, he’s only a monster by proxy,” Allison replied, sliding from her stool. Andrew saw her let herself out of their side door and start decorating one of the shelves with the new candy boxes she’d created. Conversation over, Allison exit stage left. Andrew didn’t miss the fond smile on Renee’s face as she watched her girlfriend. He opened his mouth to tell her to snap out of it, but the bell jangled and Andrew went back to aggressively pulling the log of candy.

“Hey, hey!” Matt said, sounding happy to see whoever had walked in. “I didn’t actually expect you to stop by!”

“I was curious about what you meant by ‘homemade candy’,” the newcomer said. His voice was deep, nice even, and Andrew found himself drawn in by it. He looked up and had to work really hard to not let a reaction show on his face. The newcomer was short, although taller than Andrew of course, and he had auburn hair just long enough to start curling around his ears. His eyes were so blue Andrew could have gotten lost in them if he wanted to. He had four thin, white scars running down one cheek clearly done with a small, sharp blade. On the other cheek, under his eye, was a round patch of healed, burned skin. Andrew hated that he was the perfect mix of handsome, and interesting. Nice features, nice voice, muscled legs, and scars that beg the question of ‘what happened to you?’ If someone that attractive could get themselves into that much trouble, he deserved the label ‘himbo’ not Andrew. Andrew’s scars were all self-inflicted, which he could argue was less stupid than having someone or something burn your face. The door between Andrew and the back room shut with a snap and Andrew jerked his head around to see who’d come out. If Nicky or Aaron were bringing out another log of candy already, he was going to have words with them, but it was just Kevin.

“Oh Neil!” Kevin said, actually smiling at the newcomer. “What are you doing here?”

“Matt told me he worked here so I thought I’d check it out,” Neil said, tilting his chin in Matt’s direction.

“I didn’t know you two were friends,” Kevin mused, situating himself at the counter beside Andrew. Andrew bit hard on the inside of his cheek and worked harder on the roll in front of him, looking at Neil out of the corner of his eye.

“We are,” Matt said, looking strangely proud. Neil smiled and Andrew looked away for a second.

“We are also roommates,” he said.

“How do you two know each other?” Matt asked from his stool behind the register.

“Neil is our freshman recruit, obviously,” Kevin answered.

“Oh right, of course,” Matt said, clearly as interested in the sport as Andrew was.

“He’s more of a soccer fan,” Neil said as if apologising for his roommate’s ignorance. Kevin grimaced as if that news personally offended him, swiping up a handful of the wonky, rejected pieces of candy, and pocketing them. Andrew knew that the small handful would be the only candy Kevin would eat that week, and the knowledge pained him. Andrew ate double that daily.

“See you at practice,” Kevin said to Neil. “And I’ll see you later,” Kevin added, looking at Andrew.

“Bye,” Andrew replied, waving him away impatiently, grateful to have room again. Not elbowing Kevin when he’s standing that close to Andrew working was a chore he couldn’t really be bothered with. Kevin left the store without a backward glance or saying goodbye to anyone else, and Andrew didn’t hold that against him.

“Good to know he’s an asshole all the time and not just on the court,” Neil said to Matt who laughed.

“You have no idea. He’s nice to Andrew, and that’s about it,” Matt responded. Andrew looked up at his name and met Neil’s eyes. Neil smiled at him and did the stupid male nod thing and Andrew looked away.

“Did you want to try some free samples?” Renee asked Neil, sliding some more of the multicoloured rejects into one of Allison’s boxes that hadn’t worked. She passed them to Andrew who held them in Matt’s direction because there was a glass wall in the way of him and Neil.

“Um, okay,” Neil said, sounding dubious. He took the box and popped one into his mouth. Andrew didn’t miss the immediate, full body wince at he crunched the rock hard candy between his teeth straight away making Andrew cringe. He swallowed the shards quickly and put the box down in front of the register, looking severely unimpressed and a little bit embarrassed. “That is too sweet,” he explained. Matt laughed, but Andrew stopped working to openly stare incredulously at him. It’s a fucking candy store, what did he expect. Matt used his finger to rifle through the pieces and pulled out a blueberry one.

“The watermelon is a bit obnoxious, but try this one. It’s a little less sweet and more… sour? Kind of,” he explained. Neil looked traumatised, but he took the piece between his finger and thumb and put it in his mouth. The reaction was less intense, and he managed to suck it for a more than five seconds before wincing and crushing it between his teeth again to get it out of his mouth.

“Too sweet still,” Neil said, pushing the box away further. Matt went looking for a third piece of candy, but Andrew was getting annoyed now. He went over to the register, snatched the box from Matt and ignored his undignified ‘hey!’

“It’s a candy store dipshit,” Andrew said to Neil. “Everything is sweet, that’s the point. Just don’t eat any of it,” he snapped. Neil raised his eyebrows, but it was the smile tugging at his lips that threw Andrew for a loop. Usually, when Andrew got mad at someone, that someone cowered or apologised or reacted, rightfully so, with fear. The only person who didn’t react with fear was Aaron, and that was because his twin reacted with anger in return. Nobody smiled at him.

“That is the plan, thanks,” Neil replied easily. Andrew stalked back to his spot and gave Renee back the box.

“The monster strikes again,” Allison said cheerily from her place at the shelves.

“Monster?” Neil asked, surveying Andrew with his chilling blue eyes. Andrew schooled his features to impassivity and went back to work. “I don’t think he’s a monster,” was all Neil said before turning back to Matt. Andrew deposited the sentence into the back of his mind to think about later. How would he know?

“You going to be out late tonight?” Matt asked.

“Nah, I’ll be home straight after training,” Neil said. “Just because I don’t like the candy, doesn’t mean this isn’t a pretty cool job,” he added. Andrew felt his eyes on him, but he didn’t look up.

“Thanks, I like it,” Matt agreed. Neil laughed and Andrew decided he liked the noise, which meant he also hated it.

“See you tonight,” Neil said.

“Yeah, thanks for stopping by,” Matt said, genuinely meaning it judging by the happiness in his voice. Andrew glanced up and caught Neil’s eyes again.

“I will do just that,” Neil said, giving Andrew a smile that made Andrew want to punch him. Or kiss him. Or maybe punch him and then kiss him.

“Bye!” Matt said as Neil backed towards the door.

“See you, and Andrew?” Neil said, making eye contact again, “It was nice meeting you.” Andrew didn’t warrant that with a reply, even though something in his stomach stirred. Attraction, butterflies, whatever you wanted to call it. It made Andrew want to peel his skin off. Kevin was hot. Rolland, the bartender Andrew fucked around with some weekends, was easy and obedient (mostly). Andrew hadn’t felt actual, genuine attraction stirring in his stomach for a very long time, at least not chased by hot lashes of desire and lust. This was just simple, innocent, followed merely by curiosity. Andrew was not impressed.

That afternoon, after Aaron and Nicky had turned off and cleaned all the equipment out the back, Matt had counted all the money, Allison had swept and tidied the front of the store, and Renee had helped Andrew clean the display workspace, Dan shut off the lights and locked the store behind them. “You coming back to the dorm? I’m starving!” Nicky asked Andrew. Andrew had been simmering on his encounter with Neil all afternoon and hand pulling candy ropes hadn’t been enough of a distraction. He turned to Renee who was watching him calmly.

“Do you want to…?” she asked, leaving the question open ended. Andrew knew what she was asking, and he really, really did.

“Yes,” he said. She smiled and nodded.

“I’ll meet you in the dorm parking lot in half an hour?” She asked. Andrew nodded and got in his car with Aaron and Nicky. Renee and Allison climbed into Allison’s car, and Dan and Matt went to a restaurant further down the street for dinner.

“I’ll leave dinner in the fridge for you,” Nicky said quietly from the passenger seat. Andrew didn’t answer, but he knew Nicky would do it anyway.

Half an hour later, he met Renee in the parking lot and they went around the back of the building and down a rarely used path to their frequented sparring place. Renee and Andrew made quick, careful work of wrapping their hands after removing their shoes and circled each other familiarly. Renee made the first move and Andrew parried it easily, going for a hit in her stomach that she dodged on nimble feet. After an hour, they were both sore and adequately beaten up and they sank to the floor beside each other to gingerly unwrap their hands. Andrew knew Renee wouldn’t ask why Andrew needed the fight, but part of him wanted to tell her anyway. He didn’t, but he knew she would work it out with his question.

“Do you think you could talk to Abby and Wymack about maybe introducing a new flavour?”

“I can certainly try, what flavour do you have in mind?” She asked, wincing a little as she moved. Andrew had hit her really quite hard in the side of her ribs that was going to be a proper bruise before she went to bed that night. To be fair, Andrew’s lip was split and his shoulder was still numb from her last punch.

“Lemon or liquorice,” Andrew said, packing his sparring equipment into a bag. He didn’t miss Renee’s smile as she spoke.

“They’re not very sweet flavours,” she mused.

“No, they’re not,” he agreed.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” she teased. If they weren’t sat on the floor already unequipped, he would have swung at her for that. As it was he just glared at her and her smile grew. “I’ll talk to Abby and Wymack tomorrow,” she promised.

“Don’t tell anyone it was my idea,” he warned.

“It’s nobody else’s business,” Renee agreed.

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #renison #matt boyd #dan wilds #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #kevin day #renee walker

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