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dontexpectmuch · 2 months

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Part 5 - Lost in Madrid

author note; i know i made u guys wait for quite some time, but i hope i can make it up to u with this long-ish part. let me know what you think! enjoy btw they make out and stuff, but nothing too explicit :)

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the unpleasant feeling of nervousness mixed with guilt spreads through your body, the sour taste in your mouth making you almost regret your decision, almost.

you have to remind yourself over and over again why you are even doing this, like a mantra that your mother forced you to remember back then. Sweat tickles down your neck and your cheeks feel warm, the distant voices filling the halls finding their way to your ears, as if to distract you from your mission. senor lagardes closed door is the only thing holding you back from going in, it almost looks at you mockingly, as if you won't be able to go through with it.

Inhaling deeply one last time, you raise your hand and knock on the door, a deep voce giving you permission to enter immediately.

“ah, linda!” his voice calls out, happiness painting his features.

you smile at him and close the door behind you, not understanding why you got even more nervous all of a sudden. you spent many breaks in this room, senor lagarde was always kind enough to let you work in here whenever you needed a quiet place to work.

“i hope i’m not bothering you?” your voice is stable, you think, your hands however feel clammy, and you feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat.

senor chuckles, clearly amused by your behaviour, “you could never bother me, how can i help you?”

a sigh leaves your lips, tongue poking out to wet them, “i wanted to ask if it is okay for me to switch teams?”

his eyebrows shoot up, however instead of saying anything he just nods, urging you to continue.

“i would like to see how the volleyball players develop, you know? The footballers almost understand everything, there would be nothing for me to watch anymore.”

you resist the urge to cringe as you watch senor hum at your words, he must think that you are some weird kid that does not know that they want. you remember telling him just how much you enjoy watching the footballers, and now all of a sudden you request to change the teams, fucking paradox [or desparate?].

“i understand. just go to their coach and explain the situation, nothing to worry about.” even though he smiles at you, deep creases around his mouth and eyes, you wish to do nothing more but break down and explain everything, or even ask for hid advice, maybe even both. senor has started to become the father figure you missed over the few years, always going out of his way to make you feel at home and comfortable.

and you? you decide to leave his side because you’re nothing more than a coward, not knowing how to deal with your feelings and this whole situation to begin with.

you nod, lips pulled into a straight line, “thanks. i’ll make sure to visit you as much as i can.”

you bid your goodbye and leave the room, sad smile somehow not leaving your lips as you walk dow the hall to amandas classroom. You need a shoulder to lean on, and though you have not updated her about the situation, you can count on her to be there for you.

your steps are fast, the fear of meeting him fueling your body to move in a pace that got you almost jogging. though you try to be subtle, your eyes frantically look around, avoiding and searching for him, just so you can avoid him and reach your friends room in peace.

“so, everything was fine, but you avoid him because…?” amanda eyes you skeptically, leaning back against her chair with her arms crossed. one might think that she is scolding you with how you sit in front of her desk, hands placed on your lap and guilt written over your features.

groaning, you throw your head back, shoulders sacking, “i can’t be with him, manda. i won’t be here in a few months, like, that wouldn’t be fair”.

everything was just perfect that night, the vibes, his scent, his soft lips and the warmth that spread through you as he pulled you closer by your waist, deepening the kiss in a way that has never happened to you before. his brown eyes were so kind when he smiled down at you, making the stars in the sky jealous of the sparkle inside of them.

amandas stern voice pulls you out of your thoughts floating around jude, making you flinch, “no, you are being unfair to him, not the time or whatever you think it might be.” her eyes pierce through yours, “you basically are playing with his feelings at his points.”

“we don’t know if he actually likes me like that, i mean he could-“

“bullshit, that guy ran after you for months just to be even considered your friend, stop denying the truth.” amanda cuts you off, wording the thoughts you had, but were to coward to admit.

you sigh once again, head in your hands, “well, its too late anyway, i tried to avoid him for the past week, he probably hates me by now.”

“just talk to him, linda. he is a very mature guy for his age and will definitely listen to you.”

you know that she is telling the truth, that you are being unfair and that without trying, you’d never know how it would work out anyway. and though you already knew all of this somehow [did you really?], hearing someone else say it helps you gain a clearer view of the situation.

nodding, you get up seeing that the time has come to move to your own classroom, hugging amanda goodbye before leaving her room. the refreshing feeling of determination takes place inside you [might also be nervousness] as you take confident steps towards your room. you only have to finish this lesson, sprint to the field and wait for training to end, then you can talk to him and get things clear.

amanda is right, though jude is [adoringly] annoying, he is quite mature and will listen to you, and hopefully understand the reason for your avoidance the past week.

what you however failed to realize is that jude can be also quite emotional, stubborn and really talented when it comes to make one feel like they did the biggest mistake known to mankind.

because when yours and judes eyes meet as he walks through the gate, he immediately looks away and fastens his steps, beelining to his mother’s car. you always forgot just how fast jude is, his long legs making helping him move quicker than the average person.

you run after him, hand holding your bag to stop it from sliding off your shoulder, “jude! c`mon just listen to me this one time!” you call after him, fighting off your smile [and the butterflies in your stomach] as you see his steps flatter when he hears your voice.

he halts suddenly, making you almost collide with his back before he spins around to face you, his eyes holding a certain emotion in them that you can't exactly describe. all the confidence that you held in you vanishes as you look at him, his whole demeanor making you feel small.

as you open your mouth to force something out of it, jude beats you to it, his voice so deep that it makes your core clench, “you are fucking mean.”

your heart drops, everything around you stills as you look at his eyes defeated, not sure how to move on now. it’s the first time you hear him say something so, hurtful, especially towards you.

“jude, i-“

“i really thought you felt the same, like, shit, that was probably one of the best things to happen me ever since i came to madrid,” he scoffs, shaking his head, “and what? am i just some baller for you to fuck to get fame? really?”

you mouth hangs open as you try to find the right words to say, but oh how bad his words make you feel. did he carry these thoughts with him for the past week? fuck, you are the worst person ever, he didn’t do anything to deserve all of this, and you definitely do not deserve him in any way.

as your eyes dance around his face, still unsure how to reply to him, jude scoffs, light smirk - though it is anything but a good sign - on his lips as he looks down, hands resting on his hips. he turns on his heels, away from you, to continue his way to his mother’s car. each step he takes makes him feel a stab to his heart, even though you were the one who hurt him, he still can’t help but horrible.

that feeling mirrors itself inside your chest, too, and you decide to speak up, letting any and everything that just comes to your mind, “you were so annoying at first, i genuinely didn’t want to be in any relationship with you, at all.”

the sound of your voice makes him halt, eyebrows raised as he turns around, “is that supposed to make me feel better-“

“and i thought you were some over confident, spoiled and entitled footballer that thought that everyone wants them.” you cut him off, taking a step towards him, feeling better as you see that jude does the same, his eyes looking at yours.

“and it hurts me to admit it, but yes, i also thought, no -i still think that, you were - and really are, attractive, not the slightest bit arrogant and a sweetheart. yes, we had a weird start, but as you kinda forced yourself into my space, in a good way, i came to like you, fuck, i even missed you even though you were standing right next to me.” your cheeks burn as you just admitted all that to jude, the feeling even increasing as you watch his lips form to a smile, the one that he usually wore when he started to tease you for something.

“and that’s why you ghosted me? after that night?” jude takes another step forward, tilting his head to the side. his eyes never leave you, the warm temperature doing no good as a cold shiver runs down your spine. you feel goosebumps spreading over your body, the slight tingling almost going unnoticed because of the emotions you feel inside of you.

“i,” you speak up again, lump forming in your throat. you inhale deeply, “i’m not gonna be here for much longer, jude.”

fuck, have you always been this emotional? you let your eyes look up the baby blue sky, trying to reform your thoughts to make them make sense.

“even though i want it, like, really want to be with you, i can’t do that to neither of us. what would happen after i leave?” your voice grows weak towards the end of you sentence, the bag and a certain weight on your shoulders making them sack.

a sigh leaves judes plump lips, the ones that felt so soft against yours, warming up your entire body even though they only ever touched one spot. you know that now is not the right time to fantasize about the feeling again [there is no wrong time for it either], but the sudden urge to feel them again almost makes you go feral.

“i wish i could understand you.” jude makes you regain your senses, your eyes snap up to his eyes.

that probably means he won’t forgive you, you think, the unpleasant feelings from this morning returning. you should’ve known, why would he even forgive you for cutting him off so suddenly?

his big hand suddenly grabs your shoulder, then moves to grab your bag’s strap to move it off from it to put it on his. you watch his moves quietly, trying to understand what he is doing.

is he going to steal your bag as a revenge? [you definitely yap too much, you admit]

“let’s continue this at mine’s.”

that’s all jude as before he turns away to walk to his mother’s car once more, stunning you to your core.

“come on!” he yells back at you, a few meters away from his past position.

your legs move before you even notice it, quickly following him to the sleek black car where his mother already waves at you happily, which you return just as happily.

“hi, darling.” denise greets you as you enter the car and close the cafe behind you, turning her upper body to look at you properly.

“hey, how have you been?” you smile reaches your eyes for the first time since last week, comfortable air surrounding you.

throughout your entire small talk and the drive back to their home, jude just quietly sits in the passenger seat, looking out the window. his mother tries to include him into the conversation every once in awhile, though he doesn’t really respond to anything.

the pit of nervousness inside you only continues to grow when you enter the home and listen to jude telling his mother that the two of you will be talking in his room. your body follows him as if it is on autopilot. you can feel your heartbeat down to your toes, your hands are cold and your eyes look around his room when you sit down on his grey sofa.

jude puts both bags down next to the small coffee table in front of the sofa, then turns to walk to his big closet to change of of his training clothes into something more comfortable. all while you are in the room. watching him. you should look away, you think, and that is what you do [though you don’t want to].

instead, you decide to look around some more, impressed by how big his room is. all of it is held in a dark tone, greys, blacks and whites present through the entire room. his king sized bed is in the middle of the wall in front of you, two small tables next to each side. he has polaroid pictures of friends and family above the right bedside table, the wall above the left one left blank.

the grey sofa you are sitting on is across the bed, in front of it the small coffee table with a bottle of water and two glasses on top. his closet is on the right side of the room, next to it he has a drawer with different perfumes lined up on top of it.

his room looks like it is cut out from pinterest, but at the same time it just screams that it belongs to none other than jude bellingham. scattered pieces of clothing is present on the floor, some moving boxes pushed to one corner begging to be opened and the light on the ceiling is just one light bulb. a perfect example of what kind of person jude is, you guess.

you suddenly feel the cushion of the sofa next to you sink, jude now sitting next to you. he put on some grey sweatpants and a white shirt, his scent invading your personal space, though you do nothing but welcome it with open arms. you truly have missed him, though you suck at showing it to him.

“you actually like me like that?” his voice sounds giddy as he slightly pushes his shoulder against yours, making you groan as you put your elbows against your knees with your head in your hands.

“is that all you heard?” you ask, looking at him.

jude smiles down at you, taking one of your hand inside of his as he intertwines your fingers with his, “well, yeah. the important stuff only.” he shrugs.

he just shrugged, as if your fears are nonexistent. as if they aren’t a problem to you guy’s relationship. he didn’t invalidate them, you know it. he is too considerate to do so, but you just don’t know what to feel, if you’re honest.

“jude…” you begin, sighing.

“listen,” he sits up, your hand still in his as he clears his throat, “i understand what you mean, i really do. but that’s in the future, and we have lots of time til then. trust me when i say that i am serious about you - about us. if you let me.”

“let you what?” your voice is small, not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking too loudly.

“let me be serious about an us. let me get to know you even more, let me be your man.”

judes words stun you, knocking out all the air from your lungs as you just sit there and look at him. if your heart was beating like crazy when you first came into this room, it surely will jump out of your chest with how fast it is beating now.

“so, you just forgive me? even though i was so mean to you?”

jude pulls you closer by your hand, now your upper body rests against his as your cheek is squished against his broad chest. you feel him rest his head on too of yours, a content sigh leaving him as if he finally found peace.

“i guess, if you-“

“i won’t have sex with you now.”

“-become my girlfriend, but okay.” he scoffs, “you really think sex is the only thing on my mind.” [with you, it mostly is]

“kinda.” you shrug, not even fighting off the smile on your lips.

“so?”

“hm? so what?” you lift your head to look at him, his arms still hugging your body.

“be my girlfriend?” the way he asks you, the way his big brown eyes shine as he looks down at you and the way his lips stretch to a beautiful smile, showing his pearly whites make your shoulders relax.

“i’d love to.” you mirror his smile, putting your head back on his chest and closing your eyes.

“i can’t believe you won’t come back.” jude complains as he takes your bag out of your hands, watching you wave goodbye to the volleyball players on the court.

rolling your eyes, you turn back to home to walk home, gently pinching his arm, “i actually enjoy watching them. all of them are fun and volleyball is a cool sport.”

“cooler than football?”

you just shrug as an answer, teasing smile causing him to bump his shoulder against yours.

the distance to your home isn’t long, the walk filled with comfortable conversations and teasing smiles thrown at each other. you still won’t hold his hand in public, not comfortable at the thought that someone else might see you. and though jude tried to convince you for the past week to just go for it, he respects your wish to go slow, wanting to savor the moments. [if he could, he would push you against the wall, though, and-]

“i fucking hate these stairs.” your boyfriend, yes, your very own, very cool, very talented-

“you’re an athlete, jude, two flights of stairs shouldn’t be a problem.” you grin down at him, already walking up the stairs.

you hear him groan behind you, your fit of giggles interrupted as jude suddenly leans his upper body against yours from behind you, causing you to almost stumble over the steps.

“carry me.” his strong arms circle around your waist, his cheek resting on your back.

the weather today was mild, you’d say, not like the past few weeks where even one step would make you sweat buckets. but now with jude hugging - well more like holding onto you for support - warmth is washing over you.

you try to pry him off by twisting your body and using your arms, but his grip only gets tighter, noises of refusal leaving his throat in protest. if you don’t hold onto the rails, you would have definitely fallen down by now, judes weight pulls you down so much that even your legs start to shake.

“jude, let go!” you laugh, finally getting his hands away from your body to quickly move up the stairs.

jude looks up to you from his position, leaning against the railing. his smirk makes your knees weak once more, the air around you two causing a certain dizziness arise inside you.

“carry me.”

“no.”

“is that your mum?” you hear jude ask from the living room, turning around as you dry your hands to look at him.

he is standing in front of your photo wall, many pictures scattered across it from different places, people and memories. you knew that you would be leaving madrid soon, but having those pictures on your wall, just where you can see them makes you feel even more at home, like you never left to begin with.

you walk around your counter to stand next to jude, smiling as your eyes look at the pictures, all the moments flooding your mind.

“yeah, she’s really photogenic.” you smile at him, heart beating fast when you see him inspecting the picture even more.

“same thing can be said about you, eh?”

his teasing smile reappears on his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows.

you groan, leaving his side to sit on your couch, not in the mood for his antics, “please don’t, i don’t have the energy to feel insecure about my pictures.”

you don’t hear him anymore, leaning your head back against the couch and closing your eyes. though you only stood by the sidelines, you feel quite drained from today. the new rules and names alongside the warm air inside the indoor field making your head pound uncomfortably. you definitely don’t regret that you changed teams, it’s refreshing and you habe always liked volleyball, but you also miss señor lagarde and judes loud shouting across the field sometimes.

deep in thought, you don’t notice how jude starts to walk around the couch, now standing behind you. his hands slowly move to your shoulders, he even has to lean down a bit. you only truly notice his presence behind you when his hands start to massage your tense shoulders and your neck, unlocking a deep moan from you.

“oh, fuck.” you moan again, especially when his fingers start to press against the sides of the crook of your neck.

jude stays quiet, seemingly calm and collected even though you are quite literally a moaning mess [his mind is a stark contrast to his outer appearance]. his upper body moves down some more, until his face is next to yours, hot breath fanning your neck and exposed shoulder.

you shudder when you feel his warm lips on your akin, feather like kisses dancing around, trailing after his fingers as they massage your shoulders, down to your arm. his lips stay on your neck, slowly move to your earlobe as he nibbles on it slightly. you take deep breaths to collect yourself, but suddenly he starts to suck at a certain spot behind your ear, whiny moan leaving you before you can even register.

“fuck, jude,” you speak up, leaning away from his touch to turn around, “c’mere.” you say, more like demand, which he happily does.

you don’t know when or how it happens, for one moment you are on his lap, hands behind his neck as your fingers dance along his muscles, his tongue moving inside your mouth as to explore it. his hands love up and down your waist, coming to a halt on your butt when he suddenly pushed your closer to him. you could feel his strong thighs underneath yours, however one thing that blinded your senses the most was his growing member that pushed against your core.

the next moment, all of it feels like a haze, you are on top of your bed, lips never leaving his as your hands cup his cheeks, deepening the kiss if that was even possible.

you have always thought that you have gotten used to the warm weather and could deal with it, but the air around you two was different, more demanding, more intense. it was like being pushed against jude without a way to escape, not that you would ever dare to leave this situation.

his hands hold onto your hips desperately, and you think it will leave marks if he continues to do so, yet you are too busy to care, judes lips trailing down your jaw to your neck sending you to a whole other world.

how could you ever think that it wouldn’t be worth to try it out? you should definitely thank amanda the next time you see her.

“can i?” judes voice comes out deep, his brown eyes staring into yours so intensely, almost making you lose your control.

such a simple question, and you definitely know the answer to it, but judes entire demeanor makes you halt for a second, just so you can appreciate it a bit more. so simple yet so demanding. so intense yet oh so soft. if you could, you would stay like this for the rest of your stay here in madrid, cherishing this moment throughly with every fiber of your being.

“yes.”

and that’s all he needs to hear before he captures your lips with his again.

here you go!

i havent proofread it yet, but i hope you still like it :) lmk!!

#jude bellingham #football x reader #jude bellingham x reader #football one shot #x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff #lostinmadrid

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marketlyd · 2 years

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Cedric Diggory HCs :)

I’m very bored and I figured that the 4th movie did him so wrong (rip my boi😪✊🏻) so I’ve decided to make some head-canons in honor of this lovely lad<3

Some are fluff and some are a little more spicy :)

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Forehead kisses are a BIG YES, especially if you’re shorter than him!

If you’re taller than him, he’ll plant little kisses on your cheeks or nose

Absolutely loves hugging you from behind but let’s be honest, he loves it even more when you do it. Just feeling your hands glide over his body makes his heart melt ;)

Is the type of person to use his shirt and wipe the sweat off his face. Gah daymn 😮‍💨

Will softly hold your waist and teasingly press himself against you when it’s a tight space and he has to get pass you

Hear me out.. king of winks. THIS MAN- this man will wink at you across the dinner table in the dining hall (or across the room depending on what house you’re in) and wink along with his breath taking smirk

Loves seeing you smile. He doesn’t care what kind of teeth you have, they’re gorgeous/handsome to him no matter what.

Let’s you wear his quidditch sweater around the castle and blushes every time because it has his name on the back so people know who you belong to ;)

Not a very jealous person but will absolutely give some guy the death stare if he dare messes with you

When you wear his clothes, he makes sure you put your perfume/cologne on it so when he gets it back, it’ll smell like you

Head pats are a big yes 🙌🏻

If you’re having a bad day, he’ll invite you to bathe with him in the prefect bathroom. It may or may not end up getting spicy;)

If you wear makeup, he’ll watch you put it on then ask if you could put some on him

Every time you wear a chapstick/lip-gloss etc; he’ll kiss you to figure out what the flavor is. Even if he already knows what it is, he’ll still do it to get a kiss.

‼️MAJOR SWITCH VIBES‼️

Can have you screaming his name one day and then will be on his knees, begging to touch you the next day

Says “oh yeah?” With a smirk just to see your reaction

One word. CUDDLES.

This man LOVES his cuddles. He’s fine with you laying on his chest, or his head on your chest. As long as his skin is in contact with yours, he’s fine.

Needs help with his tie in the morning, his father taught him but he forgot and honestly.. he loves seeing you so focused on helping him. According to him, your face is absolutely precious when it’s focused in on something

Will make a playlist of your favorite songs together

Here are some:

Keeps a piece of paper with all your favorite things such as food, candy, games, etc. so he can randomly surprise you with them.

He loves seeing you wear jewelry. He doesn’t care if it’s expensive or not but he just loves seeing you all fancy, yk?

One time you told him that his hands were pretty so he got rings because they thought they’d be even prettier. (And yes, they were very pretty)

Was thinking about getting a piercing but isn’t sure whether it’ll look good on him so he went to you for advice.

Play fights happen a lot..

“I bet I could beat you up right now.”

“What?” He looked at you absolutely confused

“You heard me. I could Beat. Your. Ass.”

He just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth

“Yeah?” He let out a breathy laugh. “Keep telling yourself that, darling”

You ended up loosing because he started tickling you.. you demanded a rematch the next day.

If you’re short, he likes resting his elbow on your shoulder or even head. He knows it makes you mad but he thinks your cute when you’re mad ;)

Will sit back and chuckle if you try to be sassy with him

“Cedric, you’re not letting me talk”

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Ced, I swear to go-“

Will cut you off with a kiss FOR SURE

You get payback on him, don’t you worry.

He never really makes you mad, it’s just you two teasing each other back and forth.

He likes to maintain eye contact, seeing you get nervous makes him grin

The sexual tension is TREMENDOUS

You’ve gotten into the habit of replying with “your mum” to people so one time you said it to Cedric and he was like “pardon🤨”

But he soon started to understand the humor and has been using it.

He got a little too comfortable and almost said to snape when he got called out.

“Mr. Diggory, what exactly are you doing?”

“Your m- *fake ass cough*

“My..what?”

“Nothing professor. I was taking notes.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle right then and there

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Jeez.. I got carried away. Well I hope you guys enjoyed! If you’d like to request someone else, I’d absolutely love to do another one of these! Take care! :)

#cedric diggory #cedric x reader #cedric the great #headcanon #professor snape #hogwarts #castle #harry potter fluff #cedric imagine #spotify #music #playlist #crack

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse.

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some.

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives.

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences.

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.”

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality.

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window.

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.”

The woman smiled back. “Evening.”

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid.

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask.

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows.

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen.

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.”

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?”

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.”

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste.

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.”

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?”

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.”

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat.

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.”

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh.

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning.

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas.

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?”

“It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.”

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?”

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?”

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.”

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?”

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave.

“Where are you going?” She walked after you.

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?”

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.”

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled.

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.”

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip.

You groaned. “What?”

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.”

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said.

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?”

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers.

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--”

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile.

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.”

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.”

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #freddie lounds #tw christianity #will graham

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taeyohonic · 4 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. III

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: swearing

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 1300

links: prologue, chap. I, chap. II, chap. III, chap. IV, chap. V

note: lower case letters intended

“i did nothing wrong”, jungkook whines in your direction as you sip on the just creamy enough pina colada in your hands. your best friend is glowing in the tropical sun. the both of you are spread across loungers with your feet brushing against hot sand.

“you are so wrong it hurts”, you snort and look at his skin. he gets tanned so easily, you think in envy. you arrived two days ago – a long weekend made your last-minute escape possible. that and jungkook’s private jet at your disposal. you can hear taehyung and jimin arguing in the water, their bare chests pushed against each other in mocked hostility.

“cut it out”, seokjin shouts from the shore. the boys are as chaotic as every and even after all the practice juggling elementary school students daily, their boastful energy still overwhelms you. so much so that you don’t notice how jungkook gets up and moves closer to you. without asking – as if he ever does – your best friend snatches your drink.

“hey”, you complain and try to push him away. but he is too close too fast, his skin smells like summer and you can’t bring yourself to touch him. the man in question looks at you with a raised eyebrow, clearly confused by the missing repercussion. you normally fight harder for your alcohol.

“tell me what i did wrong, ____”, he orders you and presses the chilled cocktail glass against your warm arm. you flinch at the contrast – the drops of condense water too cold for your body.

with your eyes fixed on the tiniest scar high up his cheek, you answer his question.

“jungkook, you flew away… invited your friends… and not your fiancée.” you don’t know why you have to spell it out to him, but he still seems clueless.

“she has an important meeting tomorrow. there is no way she could have just packed her bags for a weekend get-away”, he sounds more like a son defending himself to his mother than a fully grown man.

“so, why didn’t you ask her? a question doesn’t hurt. and… it shows her that you care.”

jungkook shakes is head in frustration; you just won’t understand him, you are not even trying to see this from his perspective.

“but i did request that it’s added to her calendar… that’s basically asking.”

you wrinkle your forehead in confusion. wait… no, he didn’t, did he?

“jungkook, did you… did you talk to her assistant rather than her in person?”, you ask in astonishment. your friend looks at you like you’ve swallowed a jellyfish in front of him.

“i had to know her schedule, ____. it’s only logical for my secretary to call hers.”

yeah, sometimes you are glad that you’ve buried your crush under layers upon layers of repression. jungkook is a lousy fiancé.

“you… this is unbelievable... i ca-“

before you can finish your rant, there is a cold, wet body pressed against your back. you hiss in surprise, clearly not expecting taehyung to sneak up on you like that. his dripping hair is tickling your neck and you shiver at the closeness of jungkook’s friend.

taehyung begins to rub soothing circles across your bare arms, still caging your body. jungkook’s stare is fixated on your neck, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watches the wet hair brushing against your skin.

“what’s unbelievable, honey?”, he asks and inserts himself in your conversation casually. jungkook huffs at the nickname. he will regret till the end of days that he introduced you to his former bandmates and close friends during a pancake brunch.

not only that you chugged a whole jar of honey as a dare from seokjin, no, jimin ate so many pancakes that day, it made him throw up all afternoon… in jungkook’s bathroom. the things he had to see… just because he presented a new… important person to them.

“jungkook letting his assistant tell her assistant that he’s going on vacation instead of… just calling her himself”, you answer him and look at your best friend. he has the decency to look ashamed, but taehyung just chuckles in responds.

“honey, that’s how it works.”

“thank you, new best friend!”, jungkook exclaims and points at the male hidden behind you. “thank you for understanding.”

you shake your head at both of them. “you both have no clue how a relationship works.”

with some effort you escape taehyung’s hold and get up from your lounger. jungkook looks the tiniest bit wounded at your words.

“you said she has a big presentation tomorrow, right?”, you ask him, more for show than for clarification. he nods wordlessly. “so, maybe she is nervous, overworked… or i don’t know... doubting herself. maybe she wants to practice her speech… for the millionth time. maybe she is biting her nails right at this moment… and maybe… she needs someone with her – because she can’t go on a vacation.”

both former idols watch your rant with wonder in their eyes. are you crossing a line here?

“just – whatever. if you business people do relationships like a transaction, then… be my guest. but her texting you that you did something wrong? that tells me she’s hurt, jeon.”

ouch, his family name does the job and your friend flinches under your stare.

“what kind of vibe is this here?”, jimin snorts and drabs one arm around your shoulder. him and seokjin just arrived at the lounge. taehyung clicks his tongue before answering.

“well, honey just told us we will never be good enough for her”, he summarizes. “we’re just mourning all the never born children we could have had.”

you laugh at his audacity and slap the back of his head. jungkook doesn’t respond, or move for that matter. he seems deep in thoughts.

“so… my chances just got better?”, seokjin asks and some of the tension leaves the air as everybody groans.

“come on, old man, let’s make some sandwiches”, jimin says and collects the oldest still chuckling at their banter.

“take me with you!”, taehyung pleads and gets up as well, “my drink is empty, and i’m not drunk enough to reflect honey’s relationship advice.”

soon, there is just you and jungkook, him still in his own head. you sit down next to him; now regretting your harsh words. why do you have this weird masochistic reflex to insert yourself in his relationship?

“hey”, you say and bump his shoulder with your own. there is an honest smile on your lips, which jungkook reciprocates after a beat. “hey”

“i didn’t want to be mean”, you apologize, “just, forget what i’ve said. i have no idea what i’m talking about.”

you really don’t. relationships only exist as a thought in your mind; your experience is so limited, it’s laughable that you are even trying to give advice. your friend squeezes your shoulder silently. there is a long moment without spoken words, only his touch.

“please, don’t have seokjin’s kids”, jungkook says and you snort very unlady-like.

that night, jungkook takes is private jet and flies back to seoul. he just makes it in time to see his fiancée before her presentation. there is not even a note left for the rest of you, now without transportation. seokjin calls in a few favors. still, you don’t make it in time for your session with yoongi. his disappointment only grows when he sees the faint taint on your summer kissed skin.

damn you, jeon jungkook.

hey! thank you so much for reading! I’ve had a bad day and needed something to lift me up! Hope you guys enjoyed this; please let me know if you did!

All the love and happy thoughts to you from, dana

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat

#ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #joen jungkook angst #ceo!jungkook #idol!jungkook #rich!jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fluff

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lesetoilesfous · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Hey everyone, it’s been a while ^^ Huge thanks to the dragon age fandom for being so encouraging and welcoming - the artists and writers here are so incredibly lovely, and it meant even whilst I was having a rough time, I always felt like I could come back. So thank you!!

SO a friend and I are collaboratively working on a WingFic Fenders AU, and @pinkfadespirit tagged me in WIP Weds, so here we go! (It’s also a modern AU, so urban fantasy vibes)

Anders swallows the painful lump in his throat, and looks down at his half empty beer, blinking rapidly at the sudden burn of something stinging behind his eyes. He slips one hand into his pocket, touching the ‘present’ he’d prepared for Fenris. He looks up at Marian, who’s watching him with thinly veiled concern. “I didn’t get him any books.”

Hawke’s mouth curves up into a smile, and she slings a muscular arm around his waist, careful to avoid jostling his wings as she does so. She smells of sweat and beer and Anders feels himself leaning into her and the reassuring strength of her embrace, anyway. “Just as well, probably, because the last I looked he was stacking them on the floor.”

Fenris is opening another parcel now, this one is softer, from Isabela. He doesn’t pull the items out of the package, but Isabela laughs when he glares at her, and Hawke laughs too. Anders looks down at her. “What am I missing?”

Hawke snorts. “Isabela figures if she’s the one who gives him the underwear, she’s got a higher chance of knowing what colour it is. It’s kind of an in joke.”

Anders nods, once, and ignores the growing feeling of melancholy in his chest as the speakers switch onto some new fast paced metal song. “Right.”

Hawke’s arm squeezes his waist, gently. “Six weeks.”

“And 3 days.” Anders adds, without thinking. Hawke smiles at him, gentle and indulgent.

“Six weeks and 3 days. It’s ok if you don’t know everything there is to know about him yet. You’ve got time.”

Anders thinks about the news that morning. (“Mage Rights protesters outraged at the news that the mages of Kirkwall Circle Compound will be confined to quarters, following a statement from acting Minister Meredith Stannard.”)

He looks down at Marian again. “Do we? Have time, I mean.” He hesitates, then, glancing back as Varric offers Fenris a chunky looking parcel. Anders rubs his fingers together. “I can’t help but feel like all this is going to disappear. Like, at any minute, Meredith and her dogs are going to burst through those doors and -,” Anders catches himself and breathes, focusing on the sensation of the beer in his hand, and the warm yellow light of the room, and the red paper streamers strung along the rafters.

Marian looks at him for a long moment. “So when you say dogs, do you mean the templars or the mabari?”

Anders laughs before he can stop himself, more shocked than anything, and Marian grins and squeezes his waist, resting her cheek against his shoulder for a moment before pulling back and finishing her beer. “First: I will raze this city to the ground before I let them touch a hair on that anxious little head of yours. Second,” And at this, she turns and tilts her head in Fenris’ direction as some kind of dance track comes onto the speaker system. “Even if that were true, if you want my advice? Seize the good moments while you can.” Her grin turns crooked and sharp. “They feel better when they’re stolen.”

Then she turns, raising her arms into the air as Isabela, Merrill and Bethany tumble onto the makeshift dance floor they’ve made for themselves. Anders feels someone’s gaze on him, and turns away from the women to see Fenris watching him. He doesn’t make the conscious decision to start moving, but in a handful of heartbeats he’s standing in front of the elf.

Fenris is surrounded by ripped tissue paper and bowls of food, candies and savoury junk snacks mostly, as well as beer and wine and spirits, stacked neatly on the table as if they’d been freshly liberated from a brewery. There are dozens of books on the table in front of him. Anders catches a few titles in a glance: Finding Shartan: Searching for the Elvhen in Andrastianism; The Fall of the Imperium: A Study of the Tevene Rebellion; Par Vollen: One Breath, One Heart, One Mind; and a slim, newly printed copy of a book titled The Fog Warriors: A Culture of Freedom. Anders tears his eyes away from the presents to look instead at the elf in front of him, who is watching him searchingly. Anders offers him a smile in a half hearted effort to shrug off his unspoken inquiry, what’s wrong?

“You know, you’re going to need a bigger bookshelf.”

The searching expression briefly falls from Fenris’ face, giving way to a simple, childlike amusement and pride that makes him look a decade younger than he usually does. “Perhaps.” His mouth curves in a warm, fond smile as his fingers trace over the neatly embossed cover of the book on Tevinter. “They insist on nothing less than a generosity which borders on the absurd.”

“They love you.” Anders says it without thinking, and feels the ache in his chest grow sharper. Several pieces fall into place at once, and his gaze slides to the small party stomping in front of Varric’s speakers whilst the dwarf himself watches and laughs.

Fenris follows his gaze, and his smile grows a little, even as his hand falls to catch Anders’. Fenris’ hand is warm and calloused, and he squeezes Anders’ fingers. Anders looks down at him, and the expression in Fenris’ eyes is unutterably tender. “They do.”

Anders opens his mouth, and tries to move his tongue, which feels abruptly like a lead weight against his teeth. Before he can speak, Fenris lifts their linked hands and stoops into a bow, his white hair falling forwards over his brow as he presses a gentle kiss to the backs of Anders’ knuckles. Anders feels himself flushing even before he hears Isabela wolf whistle, but Fenris just grins at him as he straightens to stand.

“May I have this dance?”

And I’ll tag @pinkfadespirit, @dalish-rogue, @hechizero-emplumado, @wanderingnork, @hollyand-writes, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @alienturnip, @tevivinter, @midnightprelude and anyone else who wants to take part!

#da2 #fenris #anders #fenders #hawke #anti chantry #wip wednesday

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bitchiha · 4 years

Note

Ok I know these characters are not the main ones but can I request some relationship hcs for Genma, Ibiki and Omoi? You can totally exclude some of them if you don’t want to write for them 🙈

A/N: Girl!! Thank you for this!! I honestly never thought about writing for these characters before, which is kinda weird bc I love all of them?? Anyways, without further ado..

✎ Relationship Headcanons!

Genma Shiranui

Ugh this man gives me tingles LNDJSJS He’s gives me immaculate vibes and he looks so cool all the time, but... you are the one thing that can really rattle this mans cool confident exterior down to the bone.

I think he has a baddie type. Like you know what you want, confidence, just bad bitch energy to the max!! Uhm also I feel like he digs long legs and girls who are taller than him. If you’re a baddie who’s tall and confident he’s floored. But even if you are short, it doesn’t matter as long as you can wipe the floor with him LMFAOOO. He likes Instagram baddies I’m sorry it’s true.

He strikes me as a smirky / flirty type of boyfriend. Like he’ll really fluster you up and have this cocky smirk the whole time he’s doing it. But you know how you can get payback that works every. single. time? If you take that toothpick out of his mouth and slip it into yours and walk away. He’ll stand there with his jaw to the floor like mhm, Yah, she just did that.

I feel like he also goes batshit crazy for nicknames, like he will call you any sort of pet name ever. Princess, babe, baby, (baby girl irks the fuck out of me so I’m not putting it here w/out saying that), honey, love, cutie, darling. But he likes it if you just call him the classic names like babe or baby, he does have this thing for being called darling though. Like if hes being a little shit and refuses to get the tv remote for you just plead and add the word “darling” To the end of the sentence and boom! Your wish is his command.

For cuddling I see him as more of a switch. Like he can be the big spoon some days and wrap you up in his arms and legs, but then he can also be the little spoon, really loves when you’ve got your leg around his waist or if youre playing with his hair.

He loves neck kisses, like he loves them. He really likes giving them, hes the type of person to purposely give you hickeys in noticeable places just to watch you struggle to cover them up. However, he loves receiving neck kisses too. Make sure to leave him a hickey for payback.

Another thing about Genma is that he’s super funny, like he can make you laugh until your ribs get tough. So he’s good at cheering you up and helping you loosen up in tough situations. Like he can lighten the mood instantly. This is great because if you two are ever arguing or if you’re in a bad mood he can just say a few jokes and get you laughing in no time.

He’s also the type to show off his relationship. Like if you aren’t a ninja, he will show you off to all his ninja friends and brag about you whenever an opportunity presents itself. If you are a ninja though, you would make the most badass duo on missions and he will flaunt it to his comrades almost obnoxiously. Ebisu gets annoyed the most.

So yah, he likes showing you off but don’t forget to show him off too! Like really show him off to your friends and get him all confident about himself. Feed his ego bc he will repay you for it later ;)

With all that being said, it’s safe to say he also digs pda. Like he doesn’t mind kissing, hand holding, wrapping an arm around you, just being affectionate overall. I mean he won’t be too crazy like he won’t shove his tongue down your throat or anything, but like a quick kiss never killed anyone.

Ibiki

I think one of the best and worst parts about dating Ibiki is that he can literally read you like a book. So he knows when youre feeling upset or uncomfortable or literally anything. It’s good because he can get you to open up about something that’s bothering you and be able to help you. It’s bad because he can end up pestering the shit out of you until he finds out what’s wrong.

Anyways, he’ll be a good gift giver, like he picks up on the way you look at a certain dress in a shopfront window, or how your gaze lingered a second longer than normal on a bracelet a passerby was wearing. Then boom, the next day you’ve got it.

I know he’s a tough guy, but look at the gif! LOOK AT IT!! He has that soft spot. Also remember that episode when we met his brother? I seen a glimmer of that soft spot! He will be gentle and caring with you 100% like I see him giving you sweet kisses when you’re at home together, playing with your hair, things like that, but only when you’re alone.

He can also be a tough love kind of guy sometimes as well. If you aren’t a ninja he will want to have you learn basic techniques for defending yourself. He may even teach you some ninja basics and a jutsu or two, just so you can protect yourself when he’s away on missions. If you’re a ninja he will teach you more complex jutsus.

In public he prefers to keep the relationship discreet because I mean, he has enemies. He’s not gonna want them to go after you in order to get to him. So at the most, he’ll put a hand on your back when you’re in public. But like I said, when you’re alone together he’s super affectionate.

He’s probably not like the best big spoon in terms of cuddling though, like I think he may accidentally crush you. And anyways I see him liking you being the one laying on him or draping a leg over him instead of the other way around.

His favourite types of kisses to give you are kisses on the top of your head and forehead kisses. Like before he leaves on some very important mission, he’ll give you a kiss on the top of your head. In the mornings when you two wake up he’ll give you a kiss on your forehead.

If you want to melt this guy though, you should give him kisses on his scars. Especially the ones on his face. He also likes when you trace your fingers over them. It makes him feel comforted and he’ll probably fall asleep while you do so.

Ibiki can be a hype man, but in a different sort of way. Like he won’t be cheering you on the loudest, but he’ll be the one who gives you the best advice behind the scenes. Like if you’re going on a difficult mission, he’ll tell you how smart and strong you are and how much of an excellent ninja you’ve become. Then he’ll slide some advice in on strategies with the information you told him.

I think he’s the best at helping you wind down after a mission, but he’s not there to do it very often because he’s busy a lot. When does though, he greets you at the door, runs you a bath and makes you something to eat. Then you can lay in bed or on the couch together and you can tell him all about the mission. Also if you return the favour when he comes back from missions, he will melt again.

Supportive and helpful bf, 10/10

Omoi

You love him, you really do but sometimes his over analyzing situations problem really gets on your nerves. Like he can be like “you wore a light sweater instead of a heavier one, does that mean you don’t want to stay out that long?” And ur like: bruh I just wore this sweater because it looked cuter.

He can also be more negative in situations (he’s cautious so he wants to always factor in the worst worst worst case scenarios) so it would be amazing if you could balance him out without getting hot headed with him. Like giving him some positive things to think about instead of focussing all on the bad will get him to be more reasonable, but only if youre the one to say it.

Will also 10/10 force you to listen to Bee’s rapping with him. If he’s forced to stay and suffer through front row seats of his masters horrible rapping, you best believe he’s making you suffer too. It’s a relationship afterall, so that means he’s gonna constantly drag you into things that are kinda crazy.

He gets lost in his thoughts a lot so you sometimes gotta keep him on track. Like you may have been talking about what you should eat for dinner, but he ends up talking about agriculture, so you have to cut in and make the decision yourself.

All his wild imaginative thoughts get you curious so when you’re just hanging out on a lazy day. You’ll set him on a ramble and he could just talk and talk and talk and you’ll nod your head until your sleeping quietly on his shoulder. He won’t notice until he asks you if you agree or something and you don’t reply. He would have been offended if you weren’t so cute.

Also, you wanna know what gets him going? So, sorta like what I said about Genma, If you just take that lollipop right out of his mouth and put it in yours... he’s gone, you’ve just sent him into another dimension and you probably can’t bring him back, it’s also a good way to get him to stop talking.

Man, Omoi just likes kissing. Like he doesn’t care what kind of kiss as long as its a kiss. He likes giving quick kisses on your lips and also on your cheek and likes when you do the same for him.

I think he likes being the big spoon when you’re cuddling but he doesn’t mind either way. Like if you wanna attach yourself to him one day then he will let you. He likes to talk while you’re cuddling too and probably ends up with his forehead resting in the crook of your neck. That’s like his go to spot.

He has a very good imagination so the two of you are always going on cool dates. Some of them turn out amazing, others result in you two running for your life. It’s never a dull date, though!

This also means he can get you the oddest gifts. Like sometimes he can really hit the mark with some really cool necklace or gadget, and other times your like: why did you think I would need a slug statue? Or like he’ll get you some obscure poster and it won’t even match your rooms colour theme. It’s okay though, it’s the thought that counts and even then, the gifts are still cool. I mean you can put the slug statue on your balcony, it’ll look nice there.

He doesn’t mind pda, I think he’d be really affectionate tbh. He loves slinging an arm around your waist or shoulders, or giving you a quick kiss. Like Genma, he doesn’t mind showing off his s/o. Like yes! All the villagers can admire this badass duo.

It may kill him, but he would ask Karui for relationship advice. She would probably just mess with him for the most part. That being said, Karui and you will get along 1000%. Lowkey likes you more than Omoi.

He needs to know you can take care of yourself in the event of an enemy attack, so he lowkey might surprise you with a sneak attack at random times, just to make sure you’re prepared. Like you could be watching tv at home and he just sneaks up on you and is like “boom! This is an enemy attack? Whatcha gonna do?” At first you would get scared, now you just sigh and walk away.

“What? So you’re just gonna walk away from the enemy? That’s not how this stuff works!”

#naruto headcanons #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #genma shiranui #omoi #ibiki morino #anime headcanons

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myherowritings · 5 years

Text

slip of the tongue

— overview: during a charity interview with the top three heroes, deku and shouto “accidentally” give away ground zero’s crush on you. you’re asked about bakugou in an interview of your own and, during a fit of excitement, accidentally let your crush on him slip.

— pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x [fem]pro hero!reader

— word count: 2.2k

— genre: pro hero au, celebrity crush au vibes, fluff

— author’s note: [y/h/n = your hero name] this is literally so self-indulgent i’m sorry but this was so much fun to write lolol. i hope you give in and enjoy this fic with me ;)

“Being a Pro Hero can call for a taxing lifestyle. You work day in and day out and, even during your vacations, it’s hard to catch a real break.” The interviewer waited for the three of them to nod before continuing, “Do you have any advice for young, aspiring heroes on how to balance work and personal wellbeing?”

“That’s a tough one,” Midoriya replied, tilting his head to the side as he thought of his answer. “Being a hero requires a lot of time and sacrifice, and sometimes it’s difficult to remember to take care of yourself in such a high stress environment. But if Aizawa-sensei taught us anything during our years at U.A., it’s that…”

Deku continued to talk on and on and Bakugou found himself counting the number of threads present on the arm of the sofa.

For the majority of the interview, Katsuki sat near the edge of the couch ready to bolt out of his seat. His manager claimed the special “Top Three” interview was a good way to raise money for charity, but he was almost certain it was simply a thinly veiled publicity stunt and an extra way for the crew to bring cash to their own pockets.

“To be honest, I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” said Todoroki after a long pause, inciting loud cheers and deep sighs from the audience.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. That fucker could say he ate nail clippings for breakfast and the response would be the same.

So far, the interview had consisted of Deku blabbing on until the host directed the conversation elsewhere, Shouto piping in with a stupid comment in a low drawl that made the entire audience swoon, and Ground Zero almost bursting with annoyance at the vain questions asked.

(The question the host asked Midoriya was probably the most--if not only--question of substance. The rest were about who was dating who, how long did it take to develop such toned muscles, and other bullshit he didn’t care for.)

He found himself zoning out until Todoroki nudged him on the side.

With a blink, Bakugou turned to the interviewer who cleared his throat with a nervous chuckle.

“As I was saying…” started the host, trying to find his words. “You guys are the Top Three everyone is striving to become, but are there any heroes that inspire you? An individual who stands out as someone you trust to keep Japan safe?”

Midoriya nodded fervently, a sparkle lighting up his eye as he began to speak. “Plenty! It’s not possible to choose just one. There are so many heroes I’ve met along the way that helped make me the person I am today--”

And that’s when Bakugou stopped paying attention.

Not for lack of interest, per se, but simply because he’s heard Deku say this millions of times before. Everyone other time he opens his damn mouth, it’s to shout praises of any quirk someone possesses.

“...but ever since our U.A. years, I’ve always had a good feeling about Y/H/N.”

And that’s when Bakugou started paying attention again.

His neck snapped towards Izuku at the mention of your name and Todoroki stifled an amused snort.

You met them as a student in U.A., exactly two grades below theirs. Like Half-and-Half, you got accepted through recommendations and easily blew everyone in your class away during the Sports Festival.

Bakguou didn’t give a single fuck about you back then. He thought you were a spoiled princess who had her life handed to her on a silver platter, but as long as you didn’t get in his way, you weren’t important enough to worry about. But years have passed and, through a variety of encounters during hero training and internships, he began to realize maybe you weren’t all that bad.

In fact, you were rather...admirable.

He grimaced at the thought.

“I’m quite fond of her as well,” said Shouto, a small smile on his face as he met the audience’s captivated gaze. “She makes the best cold soba. And the control she has over her quirk is impressive.”

Katsuki snorted. “Glad to know your priorities are in check.”

“Making good soba is a noteworthy talent,” defended the interviewer, head halfway up Icy Hot’s ass. “And what about you, Ground Zero. We only have a few minutes left together, but are there any young heroes who caught your eye?”

He shrugged. “There’s--”

“He’s mentioned Y/H/N before, too,” Todoroki answered for him, sharing a look with Midoriya. “In the break room earlier, the news channel was on and Ground Zero had his eyes glued to the screen when she appeared.”

Izuku hummed in agreement. “And he wouldn’t stop talking about how powerful and pretty she looked during her debut as a Pro--”

“For fuck’s sake, I told you not to tell--”

“Sir, language! This is a live recording.”

Bakugou glared at the host for interrupting, then gave an even harsher glare to Deku and Icy Hot for opening their big mouths. Shouto quirked his head to the side, peering at him with an oblivious look that Katsuki wanted to punch off his face. Izuku simply avoided his gaze, taking a sip from his glass of water.

Todoroki blinked. “The more I think about it, the more it seems Ground Zero might actually like Y/H/N.”

Midoriya spluttered out the remnants of the drink in his mouth, coughing uncontrollably as his face reddened. He glanced nervously at Bakugou to check his reaction and gulped. Katsuki’s left eye was twitching and the crackling noise of the nitroglycerin on his hands igniting grew louder.

“Ah, S-Shouto?” Deku said with a forced chuckle, trying to take control the situation. He turned to the audience. “I-I think what he means to say is that Ground Zero likes Y/H/N...as a person. Right?”

Todoroki looked confused. “No? I meant that he likes her and wants to--”

Izuku clamped a hand over Shouto’s mouth and Bakugou jumped up from his seat, sparks flying off of his forearms. So much for being stupid enough to trust these idiots with his personal feelings ever again.

“ARE YOU A FUCKING MORON OR--?!”

“And that’s all we have time for today, folks!” the interviewer interrupted, desperately trying to take the attention away from the chaos unfolding in front of him. Midoriya placed himself between Bakugou and Bakugou’s newfound target, and the audience had their phones at the ready. The host let out a strangled cry. “A big thank you to Deku, Shouto, and Ground Zero for all that they do for Japan. Now, please-- Just leave! And tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“We’ve had an amazing time tonight with you here,” the host paused, smiling as the audience cheered, “but before our time comes to an end, there is one last thing I think we’re all dying to know.”

“Of course!” you said with a smile, crossing one leg over the other as you leaned towards him intently. “I’m all ears.”

You could’ve sworn his cheeks turned pink with a swoon before continuing. “Ahem. A few days ago, we had the Top Three heroes visit the studio for an exclusive interview.”

At the mention of the Top Three, you almost bounced out of your seat in excitement. You had known them since high school, yet you continued to be starstruck at the intelligence and talent they brought to the field. Just hearing about their accomplishments pushed you to strive to become a better hero.

“I heard! I haven’t watched it yet, but I really need to,” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face. “I look up to them all so much and they’re such a joy to be around. The interview must’ve been so fun!”

The host muttered, “Fun… That’s a way to put it.”

You let out an awkward chuckle.

As if just now remembering the camera was rolling, he cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “Yes, they were certainly a joy to be around. There was never a dull moment with them, to say the least.”

“Right…”

“And when they were here, they told us which talented young heroes they admired.” He gave you a pleasant smile. “Your name just so happened to be at the top of their lists.”

Your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of their sockets. The Top Three admired you? “R-Really?”

“Yes, really. Deku said he had a good feeling you were going to make it big, ever since U.A. Shouto even said he liked the cold soba you made him,” the interviewer said and you flushed.

You were a big fan of Todoroki’s ever since his Sport’s Festival performance during his first year. Of course you had to make him his favorite food any chance you could. And Midoriya-- There were no words to describe how much you looked up to someone so powerful yet so… good. There was simply no one else quite like him.

“But what was even more interesting was what we heard from Ground Zero.”

Now, while you looked up to and loved Deku and Shouto, Ground Zero had a special place in your heart.

You looked up to him as well, there was no denying that, but lately your feelings felt like something more than admiration. The more encounters you had with Bakugou, the less you viewed him as the same arrogant (and annoyingly powerful) kid from U.A. No-- He was different now. Big-headed at times? Yes. But there was a kindness and warmth deep inside him you never quite noticed until recently.

“What did he say?” you asked, hoping your voice wasn’t as jittery as you felt.

“Well, he really admires your talent and strength, as well as the hard work and effort you put into being a Pro Hero.” The host drummed his fingertips along the desk as he sang your praises. Leaning closer to you, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And--just between you and me--Shouto and Deku let it slip that he wouldn’t stop talking about you after your debut as a Pro, either. Ground Zero seems to be absolutely entranced by your presence on screen.”

Every logical part of you knew this man was exaggerating for the sake of show business, but you were too ecstatic to really care.

This was Bakugou fucking Katsuki he was talking about. Ground Zero himself!

You could hardly contain your excitement as you practically bounced in your seat. “He admires me?” You shook your head. “That can’t be possible! He’s one of the best heroes the world has! Deku may be ranked number one--and he absolutely deserves it--but Ground Zero has always been a personal favorite of mine.”

Your interviewer raised his eyebrows at your admission. “Is that so?”

“Most definitely!” you said with a zealous nod. “He’s always so determined and passionate in everything he does. Ground Zero’s a natural born hero, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing himself everyday to be the very best he could possibly be. He…inspires me, really.”

“That sounds like a little more than inspiration to me,” replied the host with a thinly veiled smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up and, if you had Bakugou’s quirk, you knew you’d be popping off some nitroglycerin at the embarrassment. The interviewer couldn’t possibly expose you for having a crush on a certain Pro Hero, right?

“I… Ah-- What do you mean?” you coughed out.

“Oh, nothing,” he said simply, enjoying the doe-eyed expression on your face a little too much. “Well, I hate to end such an amazing interview, but that’s all the time we have for today! Thank you so much, Y/H/N, and tune in next time on JNN!”

- - - - -

“So, I heard you might have a small crush on me.”

“Tch.”

“Or did the interviewer totally blow it out of proportion and now I’m just making a fool of myself?”

“Pfft.”

“Oh, my God, I’d be mortified if--”

“Is now really the time to talk about this?!” Bakugou grunted in a strained voice. His ears were a bright red as you continued to move closer to him.

You blinked up at him innocently. “What do you mean?”

There was a crashing noise behind you as Ground Zero took down a dismembered, yet fully mobile, appendage of the Storm Villain, Karmegan. When another came up behind you, he stretched his hands out to do his famous AP Shot and you almost swooned on the spot when he aimed the perfect circle.

“I mean maybe we can talk about us after we defeat all these loser mutants?”

“Loser?!” the villain roared shooting off another army of appendage-sized mutants in your direction.

Easily dodging his attack, you retaliated with your long range specialty move and looked at Bakugou with a smile.

“So, what I’m hearing is there is an ‘us’?”

“Are you trying to flirt with me while we save Musutafu?” he asked. When you nodded sheepishly, he snorted in begrudging amusement. “That’s some nerve you’ve got there, pipsqueak.”

Bakugou punched Karmegan, who came up from your back, and gave you a slight smirk.

“How about after we survive this attack, I take you out on a date?”

The grin on your face was almost uncontrollable as you took out an enemy behind him. Katsuki ducked right as you kicked, in perfect synchronization.

“Sounds like a plan, Ground Zero.”

“We better end this quickly then, Y/H/N,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now I’m looking forward to our date.”

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ukulelecal · 4 years

Text

Lingerie

In which Calum meets Frankie for the first time.

Pairing: Calum Hood x OC

Warnings: a very vague mention to smut?

A/N: so this is from the AU that me and maja @rosegoldquintis have going!! here is a post where i kinda explained it (check that out as ashton’s girl is sort of introduced in this!), and here is a blurb that maja wrote about cal and frankie!! this isn’t super long, about 1.7k, but i hope you guys enjoy!!! also, frankie’s face claim is devon carlson :)

The last thing Calum expected was a call from Ashton just as he was settling onto the couch for an afternoon of binging watching true crime documentaries and cuddling with Duke. He loved his best friend to death, but he was certainly looking forward to relaxing after a long week of work.

“Hey, Ash,” he grumbled as he picked up the phone, his voice still thick with sleep considering he had decided to sleep in until noon. “What’s up?”

“You busy?” Ashton asked. “And busy doesn’t mean you plan to do nothing all day.”

Calum huffed. He knew Calum all too well.

“Guess I’m not busy, then.”

“Great. Because Ophelia’s birthday is coming up and I still have one more thing I want to get her, but I don’t feel like going by myself,” he explained. Calum sighed, his body sinking further into the couch. Duke looked at him expectantly, and Calum reached over to pat his head.

“You need my help or something, mate?” He joked, giving his dog more pets as he jumped into his lap. “Are you clueless on what to buy your girlfriend?”

“Fuck off,” Ashton laughed. “I know what I’m getting, I just don’t want to go alone.”

“I mean-”

“I’ll buy lunch if you come,” he interjected before Calum could make up an excuse.

Never one to turn down free food, Calum decided that the lineup of documentaries could wait until night time.

“Fine. Lunch first, then we shop.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”

Calum hung up the phone and glanced apologetically at Duke, who was still staring at him as if he was waiting for something.

“Sorry, bud. Ashton’s making me leave the house and put pants on on my day off. Can you believe that?”

Duke barked, and Calum chuckled as he gently lifted him off his lap and set him on the floor.

“I know. Crazy.”

With that, he headed upstairs to actually put clothes on and make himself presentable, and it wasn’t long before he got a text from Ashton announcing that he was there.

After lunch at a local deli, the two headed to the mall, and Ashton seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go. Calum nearly rolled his eyes as he led him into the store.

“Really? Lingerie?”

“It’s what she asked for!” Ashton argued. That was a lie; truth was, he had ripped her nicest set when he was a little too excited to take it off her, and he felt kind of bad about it, so he decided to get her a new one. But, she never directly asked for it.

The music was soft and mellow as they walked inside, the lighting dim, but bright enough to be able to see. It definitely had the vibe of a lingerie store, if the oodles of lacy underwear didn’t give it away already. Calum had never been in there; the store was on the newer side, and he had been single for a while, so he didn’t have anyone to be buying lingerie for.

Calum aimlessly followed Ashton around the store as he browsed, carefully inspecting his options. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while he ran his fingers across the material and checked the prices and sizes. He wanted nothing but the best for Ophelia, and he wasn’t going to settle for anything less.

“How about this one?”

Ashton held up a jet black set for Calum to see, who gave him a pointed look.

“I’m not picking out lingerie for your girl, man,” he stated blankly. Ashton groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I’m just asking if you like it. Do you think it’s nice?”

Calum shrugged. All the sets looked “nice” to him.

“I guess.”

Ashton stared at it for another moment before hanging it back on the rack, grumbling something under his breath about coming back to it. Calum sighed; he knew this was going to be a long shopping trip.

A few minutes later, Ashton held up another, this one a dark wine color.

“This one?”

“I don’t know about her, but I think you’d look pretty sexy in that one, Ash,” Calum teased, a grin spreading across his face. The glare on Ashton’s face only made him laugh, and he dejectedly put the set back.

Calum could have sworn that Ashton looked at every single thing in the store, and he was starting to get bored. Just as he was about to announce that he would wait at the food court, a voice caught their attention.

“Is there anything I can help you two with?”

Calum didn’t miss the way his own heart skipped a beat when his eyes landed on the woman standing in front of them. Her smile was warm and friendly, and she daintily tucked a piece of brown hair behind her ear. She was gorgeous, no doubt, but she also gave off such a kind, refreshing aura among the dark, seductive vibe of the store. A breath of fresh air, Calum thought to himself.

He couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“I’m just looking for some lingerie to get my girlfriend for her birthday,” Ashton said, reminding Calum that she had asked a question. “There’s just so many options.”

The woman giggled, and Calum’s knees nearly buckled.

“Yeah, it can get overwhelming trying to pick unless you know exactly what you want, but I can try to make it a little easier. What color do you think she would like?” The woman stepped closer to Ashton to help him, Calum’s eyes subtly following.

“I think she looks good in any color,” Ashton chuckled, shaking his head. “But her favorite color is red.”

“I’ll give you a bit of advice. Don’t only think about what you think she’ll look good in. Try to think about what you think she’ll feel good in. What will make her feel confident, you know? Confidence is much sexier than lingerie.”

Calum couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips. She seemed so sweet and genuine, and he found himself wanting to get to know her better. She was endearing, her smile and soft demeanor drawing Calum in, and he got a whiff of her flowery perfume when she was close.

After she left Ashton to decide between a couple sets, she turned to Calum, and he had to act like he hadn’t been staring.

“How about you? Need any help?” She offered, her smile never leaving her face. He let his own take over his features naturally as he shook his head.

“No, I’m not here to get anything.” He cocked his head towards Ashton. “I was promised lunch if I came with him.”

She giggled again, and Calum found himself chuckling as well. It was contagious, and Calum found that adorable.

“Well, I always say free food is a good reason to go anywhere.” She fixed her hair again, pastel pink nails a contrast against her dark hair. “My name's Frankie. Let me know if you guys need anything, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Frankie.”

He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

He watched her walk away, but it was short lived as Ashton tapped him on the shoulder.

“I can’t decide, so I’ll just get her both. I’m gonna go pay.”

Calum followed him to the register, and another smile found its way to his face when he saw Frankie was behind the counter.

“Couldn’t pick?” She asked sweetly as Ashton handed her the two sets. He shook his head.

“No, I’m sure she’ll love both, so she can have both.” There was also a good chance that he would rip one again so it was good to have another, but he didn’t say that.

Frankie’s eyes trailed up to meet Calum’s as she rang up the lingerie, and he shot her a sweet smile. A slight blush creeped onto her pale cheeks as she looked back down at the register, a sheepish grin on her pink lips.

Calum’s heart fluttered just looking at her.

She carefully folded the lingerie and placed it in a bag that she handed over to Ashton after he paid.

“Have a great day,” she mumbled. She glanced at Ashton only for a moment before her gaze averted to Calum. He nodded his head, and both men returned the sentiment before they started to head to the door. Calum could feel eyes on him as he walked, and he knew exactly who it was.

Just as they were about to leave, Calum stopped himself short. He couldn’t leave quite yet.

“Hang on one second, Ash,” he grumbled, turning around and heading back towards the register to Frankie.

“Hi,” he greeted, leaning one arm against the counter.

“Hey,” she returned sweetly, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him. She knew he’d come back, and she had been hoping he would. He was beyond hot, and his deep voice made her melt in her spot.

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?” He offered, knowing he couldn’t let this chance slip away. She nodded quickly before reaching around to grab one of the store’s business cards from the front of the register and scribbling something on it. He found her phone number written on the back when she handed it to him.

“I would love to…” she trailed off, and he got the idea.

“Calum.”

“Calum,” she repeated, her eyes meeting his. “Text me, yeah?”

“Of course.” He slipped the card safely into the pocket of his jeans. “I’ll see you later, Frankie.”

He met a smirking Ashton back at the door, and the two of them started to make their way back to the car.

“Hitting on the lingerie girl, huh, Cal?” Ashton teased, nudging his shoulder. Calum grinned and playfully shook his head.

“You met Ophelia while she was working at the bookstore, Ash, you’re not one to talk.”

“Guess not. But, hey, good for you! You’ve been single for the longest time. It’s good that you’re getting back out there.”

Calum hadn’t had much interest in love or dating when his last relationship ended, but Frankie seemed different. She stood out. She was the complete opposite of him, with her pastel colors and gentle manner, but that was a part of what drew Calum to her. She was the bit of light he needed in his life, and he was excited to see where they would go.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum hood #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer au #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos smut #5sos au #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #calum hood au #calum hood smut #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #genny writes

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 98

It was weird to have slow weeks again with all the excitement Keith had brought into his life. Keith had called to update him on things in Platt which weren’t exactly good. A scuffle had broken out between three vampire clans, so Lotor, and his generals, were now calling VOLTRON home for the foreseeable future. Asking far too much over Lance for Keith’s comfort. Keith and Shiro were both back in with Blades after the failure of a mission, though Keith was two weeks out of loop, so he’d had to work extra time to catch up on everything he’d missed. Then the last two weeks August had seemed to disappear into thin air, without seeing Keith. Lance honestly didn’t know where they’d gone, only that they were wankers for leaving him without Keith for so long.

Filled in far too much, Sendak seemed to be the cause of the recent vampire fighting. The four clans suffering heavy casualties, which meant pretty much every night hunters and Blades were on the look out of for potential vampires turning humans to bolster their numbers. Plus they had to deal with werewolves getting all uppity with their mangy noses out of joint. Two murders had made their way into the news, the reports on the details varied differently with between each printed news report. Someone had brought up the question of it being related to the theft he and Keith committed, with that particular story disappearing within 6 hours of making it to socials. The Blades could make anything disappear, maybe even him if they got sick of all these vampire drama. Lance didn’t envy Keith at all. He knew his boyfriend was working hard, even harder as he tried to avoid his approaching birthday weekend... despite how freakin’ long it was until their holiday. The broody anger loaf as as bad at him over birthdays. He could have easily pushed it to the back of his mind, but instead he wanted all the information and considered hiking it ahead of time so they wouldn’t get lost.

Lance was working in his own way. Pidge found them a “case” a few towns over. Lance didn’t want to go. He felt wiped from his heat. Pidge had no pity for him after a “romantic week away”, Lance ending up going. Matt coming along for the night and succeeding in pissing off Pidge by explaining away phenomenons with science. He was kind of right. There wasn’t the feeling of death in the building despite its age, nor any annoying shadows to ignore. Hunk saved them all from Pidge’s bad mood by suggesting the turn the video into a “debunk” video for the watchers. It was nice to have part of his old life back. He felt as if things were finally settling down for the Garrison Trio, and that they’d worked past his whole “vampire” issue. A new video landed him a couple of new clients seeking advice, giving him a chance to feel helpful in a different way from tagging along because Lotor wanted it.

Vegged out on the sofa, their new family member mooed loudly from outside. Yeah. They’d kept the damn cow. Three weeks seemed too long to now be going out and finding the owner seeing she hadn’t been reported missing. They’d even named her Kaltenecker. Blue wasn’t fond of her. Her Royal Highness was sulking as it was. She and Kosmo had gotten pretty close, Lance feeling she missed the hyperactive pup as much as he missed Keith. She’d tried to be friendly with Kaltenecker, but was out the moment Kalternecker’s long slobbery tongue passed over her head. He didn’t like to admit that he slept with one of Keith’s shirts over his pillow these days, because it felt kind of stalkerish and really rather lame. He couldn’t help that he slept better with Keith’s scent close to him, despite the fact he felt a 45 year old man should probably have grown out of nightmares long ago.

Matt and Rieva both tried to help with his nightmares. Lance appreciated the thought, but his dreams had been so weird lately that he had no idea what to make of them. Sometimes they were about him being turned. Sometimes he’d turned Keith in them and they were having the weirdest adventures. He’d had one dream where he was pregnant and Keith was on a quest to find him shorts... though, the worst dream he’d had was when Nyma and Rolo had kidnapped Keith and he’d come home to find his boyfriend dead. It took calling Keith to calm him down from that one.

There was also one big change in the house that made Lance happy. Curtis had moved back in. When he’d come to check on him at the hotel, they’d talked, entertaining the idea of finding an apartment in Platt, only to decide that it was more practical if Curtis lived there. It was nice to have him back. Curtis felt as lost as he did over not being able to be in the field with Keith and Shiro. Having found a home outside VOLTRON, where his curse wasn’t such a big deal, Lance fully supported Curtis moving in and having fresh air and freedom. Plus, it helped to have someone get as emotional over soap operas as he did. Matt forced to watch the pair of them make fools of themselves as they’d yell at the TV over the script.

With Rieva at her waitressing job, Lance having cleaned through the house, and nothing much to do, Lance was curled up against Curtis, Christmas shopping for their friends group, and trying to ignore the feelings of anxiety that came with waiting for Keith to check in with him. Seeing he was giving Keith a twin set of blades for his birthday, Lance was facing he dilemma of “Did he buy Keith another blade” or “Should be he buy him camera equipment without knowing anything about cameras”. His boyfriend really did get excited at the idea of stabbing things... Maybe too excited so he shouldn’t give him a potential murder weapon?

He could always gift Keith a voucher to a camera equipment store, but he didn’t want to spend too much on the voucher and have Keith feel guilty over the cost of the gift. He could probably pick up a vintage camera as a gift...

Then again, he’d seen some amazing antique blades. As well as custom jobs that seemed to scream Keith’s name at him. It was hard containing himself. Huge gifts would be nice, he’d spoil Keith rotten for every single bad birthday memory he had, yet a heartfelt gift was worth more than spending thousands. That’s why he loved that he had a small selection of Keith’s photos. His photography so super personal that the vampire felt kind of honoured. He adored it. He adored the photos of them all, the photos of the caves, but his favourite was of Keith and Kosmo cuddled up together, even more so of the ones where he was kissing Keith’s cheek. Now he was missing his boyfriend again. God. Okay. No more swords. Time to move on to Shiro and who better to ask than his boyfriend?

“Hey, Curtis. What are you getting Shiro for Christmas?”

“I’m not going through this again”

Tilting his head back, Lance frowned up at Curtis

“What does that mean?”

Curtis sighed at him

“It means Keith nearly had a mental breakdown trying to decide on your gift. I will not go through that again”

Lance blinked at him, a warm feeling in his belly that his boyfriend cared that much. He didn’t blame Curtis for not wanting to go through that again, a stressed Keith could be very bossy and uncooperative

“No, I’m being literal here. I don’t want to get him the same thing as you. I’m tossing up between getting Keith another blade, or some camera equipment. I thought I’d move onto Shiro”

“Oh. I was sure you were edging into asking what you should purchase for Keith. He was quite the wreck the morning of your birthday. 5 cups of coffee, all in different cups. Pacing nonstop. Freaking out because he hadn’t purchased a present and it had to be just right and in no way lame”

Lance huffed at Curtis. He really wanted to call Keith now... Their camping trip seemed so long away... 52 days. Every day counting down was being marked off on his office calendar and his friend calendar

“I am trying not to think about how much I miss my boyfriend. What should I get Shiro?”

Shiro was filled with “Dad” vibes. Sometimes it felt he was the only mature one around them

“You could get us matching T-shirts. I’m with stupid pointing to him, and his saying “I am stupid””

“Dude, that seems more like something you should give him. Maybe I’ll skip him for now”

“You could get him an ugly sweater?”

Lance hummed. Shiro was a closet nerd. He’d seen the bobble head collection... and the movie collection...

“That could work. Maybe some socks to make it feel like a dad present. Thanks for the idea. What are you getting him?”

“I’m thinking I should get him an ugly sweater now”

Lance rolled his eyes

“That’s what you told me to get him”

“But it’s such a good idea. Why don’t we all get him ugly sweaters?”

“Because you’re the one who’s going to have to live with the consequences”

“I don’t mind”

“Fiiiiine. But you better gift him something else to make up for it, or he’s really going to think we don’t like him”

“I think I’ll manage. Why are you shopping now?”

“So it’s all out the way. Postage gets hectic around Christmas and if there’s going to be delays than I want the extra time”

He was letting his age show. But with two months to go before everyone started going mental for Chris, he wanted things all organised so he didn’t have the last minute rush to deal with. He had his eye on a nice outdoor setting as his birthday gift to himself, a little late, but if he timed it right he couldn’t always say it was an early Christmas present. He wanted something bigger to fit them all comfortably, once he’d extended the brickwork... maybe built a pen for Kaltenecker... ohhh... Kaltenecker could have her own stall near the house. They could build a doggy training course for Kosmo... and Matt...

“Curtis, do you know anything about construction”

“Not particularly. Dismantling measures... Explosives. Survival measures”

“Do you want to try building a cow pen with me?”

“No. And you will not be building one either. Go back to your Christmas shopping”

Lance pouted. Not liking being told not to do something. It wasn’t an ego thing. It was something he’d heard so many times in his life. No matter how good he’d been, he wasn’t good enough

“I did all the repairs on the house for like the most part, and things are still standing”

“So you did the electrics, the plumbing, reroofing...?”

Well... no. The walls had to come down to tackle the mould and... his ego didn’t like what Curtis was saying

“I pulled down the walls and replaced them once I got rid of the mould”

“Great. You broke stuff. Speaking of broken stuff, Matt and Rieva broke the bed again”

“I heard. Maybe it’s time to get them another bed for that room? Instead of two singles pushed together?”

“Weren’t they planning on moving out once their probation ended?”

“That’s beside the point...”

He really liked having them there. Not just because he’d become friends with them, but for the added security of having two werewolves in the off chance of things going south

“You’re acting delusional. Maybe it’s the stress of Christmas shopping?”

“I’m not stressed. And before you ask, I’ve already ordered your present”

“I know. I’ve been on your laptop”

“Dude! Privacy! I’ve got confidential client... you’re an arsehole”

Curtis started laughing as he snapped at him

“You should have seen your face”

“You should see what I’m going to do to yours”

Curtis brushed his hair back from his horn

“It’s because I’m horny, isn’t it? You wouldn’t hit a horny man”

Lance choked on air. Curtis laughing at him as he spluttered. Part of Curtis’s Christmas present might have to go missing in revenge. Sulkily, Lance snapped his laptop closed. His friend was a dick. He was a raisin cookie pretending to be filled with chocolate goodness

“I’m going to go make lunch while you think about your actions”

And check in on Matt who was doing “Top Secret Research”

“Oh, good. Food and free entertainment. This really is the life”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #klance #mpreg #bottomlance #top keith #vampire lance #ashratherose

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Note

43 for pynch please?

~Notes: Hey fam! Thanks so so much for the prompt! I wasn’t sure which list you intended by let me know if it wasn’t the right prompt love

Send Me A Prompt

Ronan flies out to Cambridge on a Thursday afternoon.

It’s the middle of October, first semester of university, the place where Adam’s fighting and sweating and succeeding as always in Harvard. proving wrong some invisible force that continues to envelop him whole in ways Cabeswater could’ve only dreamed of. (Sometimes, when Ronan can’t sleep, and he’s watching the ever rigid tension seemingly woven into Adam’s shoulders, he wants to ask if that invisible force has the shape of Robert Parrish, and if Adam could ever escape that particular demon. But Ronan never asks and Adam never leads on and that’s enough most of the time.)

Stepping out onto the terminal, Ronan checks his watch— a fancy, leather banded thing with an Italian name. The exact replica he’d once seen Niall dawn. It’s just turned a quarter after three, Adam’s stuck in his lecture till at least half past four, so instead of waiting Ronan waves down a cab and gives the address to the campus.

It’s a miserably rainy New England autumn day, chilly and pouring and all the things Ronan hates.

Fuck.

It’s not even a school break or anything like that. The only reason why Ronan’s even here, and why Adam agreed to take a voluntary day off is because last week— during one of their insanely frequent Skype sessions where Adam would work on his assignments and Ronan would dick around the farm, punctured by their occasional conversations— Adam had stated, in that measured, stripped down way of his, that they were nearly reaching their one year mark.

“Fuck out here?” Ronan had balked, which in Ronan terms means he snorted with a considerably less snarl. “Who would’ve bet on that?”

“I would have,” Adam says, and fuck, Ronan fucking hates shitty technology because now instead of it just being their stupid voices Adam can see the way those simple little words have elicited an insanely embarrassing response from Ronan. Cheeks and ears infused red and pale eyes darting anywhere but at the screen, thinking that it would probably reck him if he got to see the look on Adam’s face and not be able to kiss him right then.

“Me too,” he softly confesses.

“You know Lynch,” Adam had begun with that customary, shit eating charm Ronan was much more comfortable with at this particular moment. “Most normal couples celebrate that kind of shit.”

“You saying we’re not normal Parrish? Because I take that as a fucking offense.”

“I dunno,” Adam levels him with a look through the laptop monitor, low voice transforming to a husky, Henrietta drawl. “You wanna celebrate or not?”

That had been what spurred Ronan on to buying a ticket that night, and what brought him to this hellish fortress of highfalutin academics and the bratty kids of senators and ambassadors and millionaires who think of university as merely a downtime until they can get that pretty little superlative to smack on some inconsequential resume.

Except no, this isn’t the ninth circle of hell because Adam’s here, and that makes everything pretty alright.

~*~

Adam meets Ronan at a coffee shop cusping the campus’s borders and nearly topples over his drink when he crashes his lips against Ronan’s as soon as the laws of physics would allow it— a cacophony of lips and teeth and spit that makes Ronan’s toes curl.

“Fucking settle the fuck down Parrish,” Ronan scolds with no actual heat, as if he weren’t meeting every peck with the same amount of fervency, as if his hands weren’t patting up and down his face and locking in his hair, this edge of desperate.

“Embarrassing ya?” Adam teases, nudging their noses together.

“Sorry to break it to ya lover boy, but You’re always fucking embarrassing me.”

Adam only leers, carding an appreciative hand through Ronan’s grown out locks. “Lover boy? Hah, i like that. Imma gonna have to use that.”

“I fucking dare you.”

Adam tips back his head with laughter, and Ronan decidedly stays quiet, pretends that the sound isn’t all the golden and splendid and wonderful things he’s ever known strung together, like the most beautiful instrument.

Sometimes Ronan reminds himself that no, he did not in fact dream Adam.

~*~

They do not fucking hold hands all the way to Adam’s dorm because that is totally lame and wimpy and for fucking dorky little bitches.

But if their pinkies are hooked into one another’s… Well then, who the fuck is even asking?

~*~

“I swear to God Ronan!” Adam reprimands, face set in a scowl and swatting Ronan’s hand away from where it was cupping his ass while Adam was trying to gather the last of his things to throw in his duffle.

“Hey, don’t swear to your creator prick.”

Adam just waggles his tongue at him and Ronan dips down to bite it, which then leads to Adam giving a curious tug onto Ronan’s hair, making the dreamer moan and Adam get this sharp, instinctive gleam to his eyes that always means trouble in the most spectacular of ways.

Half an hour later Ronan’s lounging lazily on Adam’s twin sized bed while the aforementioned boy is zipping up the last of his necessary belongings and cursing at him to “Get the fuck up already.”

“Alright, alright madonna, don’t put your fucking panties in a twist.”

“Pretty misogynistic smack for a dude who just had my dick up his ass like ten minutes ago.”

“Yo, I like what I like, doesn’t mean I can’t still pound the face of any fuck that tries getting at me,” Ronan sniffs, mock indignant.

Adam only snorted, letting out a dry breath that tells Ronan that he’s reluctantly amused.

“Fine whatever, you’re an enigma rapped in a contradiction,” Adam waves him off in a universally recognized shooing away motion, making Ronan role his eyes while slipping back on his boxers and jeans. “my point still holds, if you can’t say it in front of Blue, reckon you can’t say it at all.”

“What a peachy bit of advice honey dumplin,” Ronan says in a falsetto, putting on his best imitation of Adam’s accent he can.

“You. Are. A. Piece. Of. Shit.” Adam tells him between sugar cloaked kisses that taste like coffee and blueberries and the splendor of The Barns at dawn.

Collecting their things and locking up his dorm, the pair don’t make it down the hall before being accosted by another student. An objectively pretty student with long curly hair wrapped into a messy topknot, and warm dark skin, with even darker eyes that have this impossible glittering to them.

Ronan hates her right on sight.

“Adam! Oh thank God!” She crows, and Ronan most certainly does not appreciate the way it’s like she can’t help but run her eyes up and down his person before settling on his face, features going soft as she spoke to him.

“Hey Kat,” Adam greets, and Ronan is savagely proud that it’s with distinctly less enthusiasm. “whats going on?”

“Professor Gomez! I completely and totally lost the paper where i wrote all the junk he wanted for our presentations! And I’m totally wigging out because it’s too late to email him now and I haven’t started! And I don’t even remember what he even kinda wanted! Like fuck! I know he’s old but learn how to put shit online right? And I’m just such a mess and—“

Adam rises up a hand, lips quirked in an amused half smile. “Aren’t you presenting tomorrow?”

“You see my dilemma then!” She presses, big, caff like eyes pleading with him.

“I don’t know how you put yourself through so much pressure the night of.”

“We’re all not geniuses like you Parrish,” she says in what Ronan bets was meant to be a scoff, but instead came out fond and self deprecating.

“Thankfully not,” Adam winked.”Let me grab my notebook from my room, I don’t need it anymore anyhow.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She almost gushed.

“Course,” Adam says before turning slightly so that he’s only looking at Ronan, one eyed quirked in silent command for him to stay put. Ronan’s answering twist of the lips— telling him that he’s not his fucking keeper— must’ve not had the same bite behind it as intended because Adam only chuckles before elbow checking him and pivoting around back to his room.

Just as soon as he’s out of ear shot the inevitable, exceedingly awkward, silence basically collapses between Ronan and this new girl who’s distinctly apart of Adam’s life that Ronan is separated from.

Again, Ronan decidedly does not like her.

“So, ah, I’m Kat,” she tries to introduce, as if Ronan gave one singular fuck. “And you must be Adam’s boyfriend… Ronan?”

Something warm and content coils deep in Ronan’s gut at the idea that Adam’s spoken about him to his college friends, to this girl in particular. That they know of him and could probably rattle off a few superficial facts about him that Adam’s told them. It makes him feel relevant, thought about. Makes him feel like Adam misses him nearly as much Ronan does him.

But this intruder doesn’t need to see the pleasure that causes.

“No shit,” he says with venom. “What gave it away? The just got fucked hair he’s sporting or the fact his jeans are sagging enough so you can see him wearing my Calvin boxers.”

In an instant, something passes through the girl’s, Kat’s, eyes, her mouth set in a straight line and posture stiff.

“No actually, I just got a distinct, woe with me, tragic white boy with a past vibe from the little bit of descriptions Adam’s managed out, and well, you seem to fit that quite nicely.”

Ronan doesn’t mean for the huff of laughter to spill out his lips, but it does, and he may or may not hate her just a little less.

“Sorry,” she says with a grimace, falling back to a more relaxed stance. “That was rude.”

“What the fuck ever,” Ronan shrugs, snide.

“Right,” she nods, worrying on her bottom lip. “Well, ah… Adam’s doing great here.”

“Did I ask for your assessment on how’s Adam doing?”

“The way you were smiling at him before I interrupted and how you stared after his ass when he left was question enough,” Kat sniffs, and no never mind. Ronan definitely does not like her, not even slightly.

“Fuck off.”

“He’s like flourishing,” she continues, as if completely impervious to Ronan’s nasty attitude. And fuck, he’s actually worried that Sargent’s taunting might’ve been right and love has made him soft. Or maybe this chick is just made out of some hard stuff, which then of course leads to the subsequent question of how is it that Adam seems to attract the impossible to him like he’s some sort of ley line all his own.

“Pardon me if I think you saying he’s flourishing is a load of bull shit considering you’ve known’m for like a hand full of weeks. And I own a fucking farm, I know what bull shit looks like.”

She pulls a face but charges on anyways, only ducking her head ever so slightly. Ronan supposes that’s as much of a concession as he’s ever gonna get from her.

“Okay, point, that’s reasonable. But still, he’s changed, even just from that distant, aloof boy from my orientation group back in August… He’s like open up to some people in like certain ways… I mean like sure yeah it’s all really basic rudimentary stuff about’m, but like at least he’s letting people in? Yah know?”

Ronan does know, he knows probably better than anybody— even Gansey and Blue— that the one thing Adam hates is talking about himself, that he prefers the cold exterior to ever letting someone all the way in. They’re working on it, Ronan’s not exactly a walk in the fucking park either…

Ronan nods to her, nods and ignores the all too familiar gleam to her eyes and touch of color to her cheeks. He looks at her and pretends he doesn’t remember that expression looking back at him in the mirror for sophomore and junior and a good chunk of senior year too, until he realized he might’ve had a chance.

“Yeah,” he tells her, watches as she darts her gaze anywhere but at him. “I know.”

She lets loose some of the static in the air with a little cough, and Ronan is thankful for it.

“But yeah,” she continues on as if nothing had passed. “He’s a life saver, this Spanish class is way harder than they let on. I mean I know he says his Ma didn’t speak much of it at home but like you must’ve heard considering you guys went to school together. Like some of the dialect is just innate, I swear. I mean I think the ability to role your Rs is an abomination, and I’m like so jealous.”

She continues on with her nervous chatter, but Ronan doesn’t take any of it in, he’s still stuck on the bit where she made it seem as if Adam had some natural inclination to the language at hand…. As if his mother spoke it or something. And well, Ronan was never made privy to that, like ever, and he doesn’t know how he should feel about that. The fact that she, this random college friend, knew something Ronan definitely did not about the boy he’s suppose to be in relationship with.

She trails off and Ronan doesn’t need to turn around to know it’s because Adam’s finally returned.

“Stuff highlighted in yellow are the requirements, orange’s the supplemental readings that should help, and green’s extra credit.”

“Oh God! Thank you Adam!” She squawks, full of glee when she leaps into his arms. “I could totally kiss you right now, ya know if your totally ripped, completely cross boyfriend weren’t standing right here… Hah, ah that was a joke, if it wasn’t clear…” She directs that part to Ronan and he just bares his teeth at her. “Oh, okay then.

With another round of thank yous, Kat waves goodbye. “See you in class tomorrow for my inevitably amazing presentation!”

“Oh, ah actually I won’t be there. Me and Ronan are going out to the city tonight for a long weekend,” he jostles his duffle as if to prove a point and Kat instantly smiles.

“Are you telling me that Adam Parrish is taking an actual day off? Under his own free will?”

“I am,” he laughs.

“I’ll make sure to take you worthy notes then.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Can we get the fuck going before we completely miss our train?” Ronan interjects, only partially meaning it.

“You got yourself a real peach Parrish,” she harrumphs before walking off.

Adam glowers a total of three and a half minutes before dissolving into peals of laughter at a face Ronan makes at him.

“Dork.”

“Dumbass.”

The hotel suite is nice, nicer than the pictures on line lead on, and nicer than Adam would’ve ever allowed if he had any say, but Ronan’s trying to be fucking romantic or what the fuck ever, so he paid for it without telling him and he told Parrish to shove a dick down his throat when he started chiding at him for being so lavish— so not Frugal, so not him— with his money… And well.

“You taste like dick,” Ronan snarks, as cheeky as a snake can get, and Adam just throws him the bird when he leads down for another kiss.

“I’ll tell Gansey you don’t like his flavor,” Adam goads.

“Hey! What the fuck did I say about bringing up Gansey or any of them when our dicks are touching?”

“Huh, I dunno?” Adam blinks, faux owlish. God, Ronan’s in love with such a sarcastic asshole.

“I hate you and this is over.” Ronan tells him, matter of fact.

“Sounds reasonable,” Adam says, unimpressed while he gets up. The dim light of the room caresses the soft lines and flat planes of his beautiful face, skirts across the dips and valleys of his shoulders and stomach muscles and brings out the specs of gold in his hair. Ronan thinks back to earlier that day when Adam had teasingly called him an enigma, and silently laughs to himself, because Adam knows him. Adam knows the gears and slings that operate in his body and the staples of his life that sing in his soul. The memory of his parents, Matthew— reluctantly Declan too— The Barns, Adam himself.

Adam knows all the intimate bits that string Ronan together but sometimes Ronan wonders if it’ll ever be a mutual trade.

Adam’s always been beautiful to him, like a favorite piece of art that you can’t quite make out behind all the shadows, but now Ronan thinks that he’s also just as riddling as some of those posh paintings that hang up in places like The Whitney, the ones that Niall always pointed out in wonderment when he took his boys during their frequent family trips to New York City. Yes, Ronan thinks Niall would’ve been very much intrigued by Adam if they had ever met.

Swallowing down a lump he can feel start to form, Ronan breathes in before speaking, afraid that his voice might crack like some fucking ballerina.

“That Kat chick is fucking annoying.” Is what he decides to blurt out.

“She’s not so bad once you get to know her,” Adam admonishes, redressing into a pair of Ronan’s slightly too long sweats. “She’s ambitious though, already the secretary to the Black Student Union and is running for a senate seat for student government.”

“well la-di-da,” Ronan snarls, derisive.

“Someone’s sour after a phenomenal BJ, if I do say so myself,” Adam counters, picking up the clicker and flipping on CNN to the muted tv.

There’s a thousand thoughts warring inside of Ronan’s head right now. Cursing at Adam and just moving on with the conversation and their weekend. Cursing at Adam and staying in his admittedly foul mood. Asking Adam just how many of these impossibly pretty, impossibly bright college kids are flirting with him while he stays oblivious. Asking him if he regrets having a ball and chain back in Henrietta. But what eventually clammers out his throat in a burning fury and pours from his lips is something that’s been nagging at him all fucking night long.

“I didn’t know your mom spoke Spanish?”

Adam turns around to him, lips pinched and brows furrowed, probably trying to parse out why Ronan sounds so peeved off.

“Ah yeah, I mean like her whole family’s from Mexico, she grew up speaking it.”

“Didn’t know she was Mexican either,” Ronan very nearly barks, hates how this suddenly feels like a betrayal. “So what you’re half Mexican and half…”

Adam’s face goes blank, and Ronan knows he’s annoyed him, truly, now.

“I dunno what the fuck Robert was, a bunch of different white trash shit. Why do you care?”

“You know my fucking heritage.”

“Niall’s a hundred percent Irish, and your ma is hundred percent dream, it isn’t that hard to explain.”

“And yet you couldn’t explain that your mom was Mexican.”

“You couldn’t guess from a name like Claudia Flores?”

“So what, her fucking name is hispanic, how am I suppose to pick out from which exact country or if she actually spoke it.” Ronan doesn’t know how to be any more clear about this.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad? What is the big deal here?”

“You’re fucking college girlfriend knew and I didn’t?” Ronan finally says, feels the piercing in his chest begin to dissipate at the light of understanding starting to come over Adam’s face.

“You are such a fucking idiot.” He tells him, astonished.

“Real nice prick,” Ronan scrambles off the bed, hates how vulnerable he is just lying there. “Just go fuck off.”

But before Ronan could storm into the bathroom he feels Adam’s hand— long fingers and rough edges— circling around his wrist, gentle, like a question.

“Ronan you’re an idiot because you seem not to understand just how much I fucking love you.”

Ronan stays facing the door, refuses to show Adam what kind of an effect he has on him, how his face goes blotchy and throat feels like it’s constricting.

“Fuck off Parrish,” Ronan repeats, though it’s in a much quieter tone.

“I don’t know how to convince you to the truth,” Adam continues to speak as if Ronan hadn’t interrupted, tugging on him so he turns around and they’re face to face, blue eyes boring into blue. “I’m in love with you, I think I was in love with you before I knew even I could actually feel it…. That I wasn’t my father and that I actually got to have you. You’re amazing Ronan, you’re everything.”

Adam breathes out, like he’s marveling at him, and Ronan can barely handle the wonderment in his eyes, the way he’s holding and gazing at Ronan like he’s something fragile, something precious. Something he’s in love with.

“Whatever,” Ronan finally huffs out before snaking his arms around Adam’s still naked torso and kissing him to an inch of his life.

“I love you too,” Ronan eventually says once they’re back in bed, and his head is propped on Adam’s chest where he can hear the fluttering of his heartbeat, and Adam’s tracing small circles on his back.

He doesn’t think either of them really understands how much the other feels in it’s entirety, but he’s ready to spend an eon to try.

#Adam Parrish #Ronan Lynch #Pynch #The raven cycle #Spilled ink #there's a Hamilton reference begs of course there is #first to notice gets a cookie #SPILT INK

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varricttethras · 4 years

Text

im putting my shame on display please dont stone me im just vibing djdkdnkddkdk

so back when i was first into undertale and started shipping a self insert oc with papyrus, i was writing a whole thing about them back then and i only remembered it lately and recalled the lore i put behind it which. honestly id kind of like to resume writing for it but id like someone to tell me if its a dumb premise and possibly give me some advice. also i want to infodump :^)

OK SO im not sure if people ever talked about this but im pretty sure the undertale universe has human mages. like judging by this slide from the opening, there were mages at least at the point when the war between humans and monsters was going on. so its probably not a stretch to say mages would exist in modern times too.

in my thing, mages are the result of human/monster pairings. but with monsters stuck behind the barrier, that was kind of a thing of the past. mages could still happen though, they were just rare because the gene skips generations until it decides to rear its head.

in any given generation, theres only a few thousand spread across the world. theyre heavily documented and are required to be stuck in special military owned schools to teach them control of their magic. in america, most of their mages live near mt. ebbot because theres a school and a military base there. two birds one stone kind of thing i guess.

once a mage graduates, theyre presented with an ultimatum to either join the military or get dumped into the world with lots of debt. it doesnt sweeten the latter deal that mages typically have some kind of physical or mental health problems (if not both) and the government retains a lot of the doctors that can do anything to help.

so obv most people choose to stick with the military and the only ones who dont are the mages from wealthy families or the Really Obstinate people like my oc. :^3c

ok time to be turbo cringey 👀 my self insert is called salem, which is Totally their real name and Not just one they picked because it sounded cool. they were born on the other side of the country (in one of the carolinas but they dont know or remember which) and were surrendered after a few months, then carted off to the school near mt. ebbot where they grew up. they absolutely Hated it there and once their graduation rolled around, they jumped at the chance to leave. unfortunately that left them in a ton of debt with few respectable career choices and nowhere else to really go so they end up sticking around the area doing guard work for various shitty people over the next 9 years.

despite their circumstances, salem is still a pretty exuberant person and they make an effort not to give away just how miserable they might be on the inside. they can be a little aggressive from time to time (being raised to be a fighting machine can do that) and theyve got a big complex about people calling them stupid. salem is affable enough in general but Real trust and openness is hard to come by until someone proves worth trusting. its a rewarding thing though because salem becomes 10x funnier once theyve really latched onto someone.

and speaking of, salem Really latches onto the monsters but Especially to papyrus. everyone is so kind and genuine and actually treats them with dignity but something about pap is just special to them. hes patient and affectionate and ends up completely stealing their heart.

sal can definitely put out some ��neurotic prey animal’ vibes and pap makes it his mission to soothe their nerves by being their cool new friend. and he does! he just kinda falls for them in the process.

uhhhhhh some more little salem things:

-their mage genes come from a very distant fire elemental predecessor

-they have a scar across their nose, another on their left cheek, and countless others littered across their torso and back

-theyve got tons of ear piercings, a tongue & eyebrow piercing, and a tattoo of the moon cycles on their right forearm.

-they Love jewelry and especially love rings

-they have pointy teeth and their pupils are reflective

-theyre Complete besties w undyne once they get over their initial withdrawn period

-they have an orange soul

-they like to collect little knickknacks, especially tiny crystal sculptures, that theyve either pinched from shops or found.

-they like cranberry juice and Fuit Gummy

ok so my problem is that i dont exactly remember the complete details of how salem comes to associate with frisk & the monsters since the stuff i wrote is long gone on my old computer. i Think my original idea was that they all live in the same building and salem accidentally mistakes sans&paps apartment for theirs one night after getting hurt really bad at their job. they end up Bustin Through while papyrus and sans have company over (undyne, alphys, & frisk) and pass out on the floor after squinting at everyone for a minute. the monsters patch them up and a very embarrassed salem says goodbye in the morning but continues to see sans and pap around the building and things progress from there.

that might be a dumb idea or kind of basic maybe though idk i just want to bounce some ideas off people :’-) also if nobody else wanted to read it i probably wouldnt bother typing it all out akaosjsodk anyhow thats all i can think of right now so in conclusion

#ut oc #this is very wordy and im sorry fhfhd #maybe dont reblog

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yougotthatbilly · 5 years

Text

Dangerously, You’re Beautiful | 01

→ member: lee taeyong → genre: fluff | angst → au: best friends to lovers!au | love triangle!au ↳ summary: ❝If you love two people at the same time, choose the second. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.❞ -Johnny Depp

chapters: 00 , 01

“Stop that.”

You lazily look to your right, shooting Taeyong a questioning look. “Stop what?”

“You’re gonna have permanent wrinkles in your forehead if you don’t relax. Your shoulders are up to your ears and even your ass is clenched.”

You almost make a comment on the fact he looked at your ass long enough to notice, but then you realize that yes, your body is extremely tensed up. Your shoulders drop and the muscles throughout your body gradually loosen as you lean into the podium in front of you.

The store is dead when it was expected to be a lot busier, but that’s what happens when festivals are in town during sales. You barely got any sleep last night (honestly this time) and you’re seconds away from slumping forward or hiding in the break-room and letting Taeyong handle things for the next few hours. Taeil wouldn’t mind. He loves you.

“Want a massage?”

“Huh?” you ask, once again glancing at him because you barely heard him over your thoughts of sweet talking him into being the only manager on the floor for some hours. Taeyong lifts his hands up and wiggles them suggestively. The words no, it’s fine are on the tip of your tongue but who are you to say no to a free massage?

“You know I’m not gonna press you on why you’ve been weird,” he starts after finding his way behind you, his fingertips softly digging into your shoulders, “but you also know I’m here if you need to talk, right?”

Of course you do. He’s always there for you, even when you don't realize you need someone to be. Only a couple of months into your friendship, he was there for you when you thought you were completely fine on your own. Being the observant and kind hearted person he is, when he saw how your feet were dragging and your smile was too fake when interacting with customers he tried to talk about topics that would normally spark your interest and pick up your mood. Months later you don’t even remember why you were feeling so glum that day, but even with him barely knowing you, he knew exactly how to make you feel better. The two of you coincidentally had overlapping breaks and Taeyong stepped behind your slouched form as you were leaned over the counter in the break room, wrapping his arms around your middle in an unexpected hug. And when you straightened up a bit in shock, he only slouched more, rearranging his hold on you so he could hook his chin over your shoulder and hold you tighter. He didn’t ask what was wrong, didn’t force you to speak. The way he felt against you, the feeling of his heartbeat against your back, you remember it all so vividly. Sometimes your mind goes back to that very moment when you’re left alone with your thoughts at night.

His cheeks had a coral hue to them when he apologized after your shifts ended, explaining his actions as a good hug usually brings his mood up because the comfort lets him know people actually care and they aren’t just asking what’s wrong because they feel obligated to. Taeyong asked if he crossed any boundaries or if it possibly made you feel uncomfortable. You felt the complete opposite. You didn’t want him to let go. You wanted to turn around and return the embrace, but in the moment you were too stunned, too overwhelmed yet too comfortable in his hold, enjoying how secure you felt wrapped in his arms. You assured him it was fine, that you realized you really needed it. Then when he, still embarrassed by such an impulsive move, asked if there was a significant other in the picture, seeing that the conversation had never been brought up between the two of you, the sirens sounded in your head.

You shouldn’t have felt the way you did when there should only be one person to have that effect on you.

Taeyong apologized profusely when you answered in affirmative and it took a couple of days for you to convince him everything was fine. He didn’t have any other intention than cheering you up, so he did nothing wrong. He just wanted to be there for you. You were in the wrong with how all rational thoughts about being in a relationship and how Johnny would’ve felt if he saw the scene unfold before him didn’t cross your mind.

Taeyong’s consideration is just another characteristic on the list you deny you’ve made.

You nod. You know.

If you’re in a shitty mood around Doyoung he doesn’t want to be around you because you kill his vibe (maybe you should reconsider the friendship, but then again you’re not even that close). Yuta isn’t the best person to run to when you’re sad unless it’s simply for comfort and not actual advice. Taeyong is the only male aside from Johnny that gives you his full attention and doesn’t come to you with his problems without even checking to see how you’re feeling. When you asked about it, asking why he always asks about you when he’s the one in need of a shoulder to lean on or advice, his response was that friends are not therapists so you should always ask how they’re feeling, too. His maturity and way with words are on that nonexistent list as well.

Maybe it’s just in his nature to care about others (plausible seeing he’s a Cancer), but you can’t help but love the fact that he’s always there and think that maybe you just have a little special spot in his heart like the one that’s found its way inside of your own recently. But then again, there’s a good possibility it’s been there for months but you hadn’t realized it’s existence until recently.

“There’s just been a lot on my mind lately and I’m just trying to figure things out by myself for now.”

“Take your time. Don’t stress too much over whatever it is, okay?” His thumbs work in between your shoulder blades and your eyes drift shut, head falling forward. “Everything will fall into place eventually. You just gotta be patient.”

Another lazy nod.

It’s the typical thing to say to someone in this situation, the only thing he really can say with how vague you’re being, but his words still make you feel a little better.

“In times like this, I drink Jasmine or green tea and it helps a lot,” Taeyong softly suggests. His focus moves to the small of your back, almost making you completely melt into the podium beneath you.

The feeling of a presence in front of you stops your response, Taeyong’s scripted greeting opening your eyes. The holy shit he lets out and his body warmth leaving you lift them. Taeyong is excitedly walking over to a surprised looking Donghyuck, pulling him into a hug.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in years, kid.” Taeyong sounds excited, like he’s been reunited with his long-lost brother and it’s pulls at your heartstrings. “Why are you here and not in class or something?”

“Winter break,” Donghyuck supplies, Taeyong making a sound in remembrance, “and I’m actually here to see somebody but—”

“But I don’t exist anymore?” you finally cut in, playfully scoffing. Donghyuck’s eyes go wide in your direction, words trying to leave his mouth but all that comes out is stuttering and the boyish smile you’ve grown fond of over the last several years. Taeyong steps back when you make your way around the podium to bring Donghyuck into an even tighter hug than the one Taeyong gave him.

“I didn’t recognize you with your head down and then,” he gestures Taeyong, who’s watching the two of you similarly to how you watched them only moments ago.

You release him to hold him at arms distance by his shoulders, examining him from head to toe. “You’ve gotten taller.” His cheek is warm when you lift a hand to cup it, swiping your thumb against the smooth skin a few times. “And you’ve gotten skinnier. Are you not eating?”

“Yes, I’m eating. I’m just dropping my baby fat,” Donghyuck shrugs sheepishly.

A flash of a memory of his chubby cheeks make you pout exaggeratedly. And then the pout turns into a down curve of disgust when your eyes travel further up.

“What the hell happened to your hair?”

Donghyuck’s left offended and is the one pouting now as you move your finger back and forth between the too big gap between his bangs and his eyebrows. Who the hell got scissor happy with the poor kid?

“I tried to trim my bangs but I got distracted,” he grumbles, glaring at Taeyong when the latter snorts. Taeyong puts his hands up and slowly back-steps into another part of the store.

At least the vibrant red his hair has been dyed is pretty.

“Anyway,” You make your way back behind the podium and return to your previous position leaning against it, “what’s up? And how’d you even know I was here?”

“Well, the semester ended and I figured seeing my precious face would make your week a thousand times better. So here I am.” He gestures himself with a grin.

You squint at him. “Why are you really here, kid?”

“I’m on break and I wanted to see my favorite sister.” Donghyuck shrugs.

“Donghyuck.”

“Okay, fine!” He lifts his hands up. “Mark asked me to visit you since he won’t be back until the end of break, so here I am.”

Donghyuck’s a great actor with a great poker face but you’ve known him since he was seven. “And?” you press once more.

“And I’m here to ask if I can crash at yours for a couple weeks,” he gives you an awkwardly endearing smile.

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug. “But seriously, how’d you know I was here?”

Donghyuck lifts up his phone and wiggles it a little. “We still share locations, dummy.”

Oh, how you missed that mouth of his.

“And your parents don’t care?”

Donghyuck scoffs. “I’m eighte—no they don’t. They trust you with my life.”

Your retort is cut off when an older guy comes into the room with a few shirts and a pair of jeans, you do your job and walk him to a fitting room.

“Where did Taeyong go?” Donghyuck asks when you’re back.

“Probably went to help out in the front.” You shrug. But on the topic of the brunet, the question that was repeating in your mind earlier resurfaces. “How do you two know each other, anyway?”

“Remember Jeno?” You’ve heard name a few times in the last years but you can hardly put a face to it, and it must show because Donghyuck continues. “The kid with the smile,” he deadpans.

“Oh.” The kid from that soccer game your mom forced you to take Mark and Donghyuck to that kept smiling and blushing whenever you said anything to him. “Aw, how is he?”

“Great.” The red-head waves off. “Anyway, Taeyong’s his older brother. If it wasn’t me and Mark, it was me and Jeno. Tae’s like my big bro.”

Huh. With this new information you wonder if you and Taeyong went to the same middle or high school and never crossed paths since the two of you only lived a neighborhood away from each other back then. What would’ve happened if the two of you officially met sooner? Would you have gotten along back then? Would you have clicked so fast and effortlessly all those years ago like you did last year?

Would you be w—

“Talking about me while I’m gone?”

Taeyong’s voice isn’t loud nor is it harsh, but it still startles you out of your thoughts, and your body jerks in alert. Both males laugh at your reaction, only laughing harder when you pretend to buck up at them.

He takes his place back next to you and hands you a warm, large cup before reaching forward to ruffle the red hair on the younger male’s head. Dumbly, you look down at the cup in your hand, bringing it up to your nose to sniff the content inside through the small horizontal hole in the lid. Jasmine and honey. “How did you even…?” A quick glance with a wink leaves you puzzled, and the warm feeling in your insides has nothing to do with the sip you take.

“Kid.”

“Hm?” Donghyuck asks half-heartedly, eyes still glued to the screen of his phone. He doesn’t look up even after you’ve made your way in front of him, hovering. He just raises an eyebrow in acknowledgment, thumbs flying across his screen.

You kick his shin.

Donghyuck lets out a dramatic sigh before locking his phone and looking up and you with an attitude. “Yes?”

“You wanna eat or keep being gross with Mark?”

The ‘tude is wiped off instantly and he’s now blushing. “W-what are you talking about? He’s just updating me on how Cana— how’d you know I was talking to him?”

You open your mouth to let him know he’s only that attentive and smiles that much when he’s speaking to your younger brother, how it’s been like this for years, but three knocks on your front door cut you off, and the quirk of Donghyuck’s lips confuses you.

“I got us some food since you like to starve people,” he winks as he stands up and lightly pushes you out the way to get the door.

The door opens to reveal Taeyong with bags of fast food in one hand and deadpan expression on his face. You can tell even from the distance you’re at that Taeyong’s trying to keep a straight, almost annoyed face at the younger, but you also see the exact moment his eyes change emotions, a defeated smile pulling his lips up with an eye roll.

The power of Lee Donghyuck, basically.

“You’re lucky you caught me when I was about to pass by,” he grunts when Donghyuck hugs him. You’ve never really seen Donghyuck openly initiate any kind of affection with anyone other than yourself and Mark, then Taeyong’s smile gets wider and wow your heart. Just like any other day, Taeyong’s eyes drift to where you’re standing, and he nods in acknowledgment before beckoning you over. “Here,” he passes the bags to Donghyuck when he lets go. “Go eat. I gotta talk to her real quick.”

The smile on his lips transitions into a thin line when Donghyuck is gone and he flicks the side of your head just hard enough for you to flinch and pout. “How are you gonna say the kid can stay with you but have no food and have him starving all day?” he deadpans, tilting his head when you don’t respond quick enough.

“I forgot I needed to go grocery shopping, dad.” The last couple of days you’ve been snacking on whatever and kind of forgot there was a growing teenage boy (man?) in your apartment now. “I was actually just about to take him out. If I would’ve known he reached out to you, I would’ve told him to ask you to get some real food and not—” Taeyong squints and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, challenging you to finish that sentence. “I mean, thanks for the food?” You smile cutely.

“Right. Enjoy your food.”

“Aw you got me food, too?”

His glare is back but it only makes you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyway, I might swing by later to get him on my way back from Jae’s. So if you don’t have plans, you should come along.”

His phone makes a noise, gaining his attention before he squeezes your shoulder gently in lieu of goodbye, then he leans forward until he’s right by your ear to yell his goodbye to Donghyuck. You flinch and swat at his gut because you know it was his intention to burst your eardrum and Taeyong just laughs as he turns on his heels and walks away.

Donghyuck’s food is halfway done and you’d feel bad if you didn’t know he’s always been a really fast eater.

“So are you coming?”

You shake your head, unraveling your food. It’s date night. You’re meeting up with Johnny at the movie theatre to watch that new scary movie he’s been dying to see. You haven’t had a proper date in weeks when you used to have one every Saturday night and you’re excited because this is what you need. The last time you saw Johnny you weren’t in your right state of mind, not thinking of what you should’ve been. Tonight is going to be about to two of you and your relationship with no outside factors clouding your thoughts. You miss Johnny’s big hand and the heat it transfers to your thigh when watching movies, his fingers tensing and squeezing when there’s a jump scare.

“It’s date night.”

“Date… night?”

His confused tone lifts your eyes away from your fries and onto his equally confused facial expression.

“Yes?”

“You’re still with Johnny?”

You nod, still not understanding his tone.

“Really?”

“What do you mean ‘really?’”

“I don’t know, I thought you and Taeyong were a thing,” he shrugs and goes back to his fries.

Your jaw works slowly as his words echo in your mind. “... what made you think that?”

He shrugs again. “Your interactions, your body language.”

“As in our body language towards each other is more intimate than what friends usually have?”

He snaps and sends finger guns your way. “Exactly. Figured you were together or fucking at the very least.”

The last assumption chokes you. “Donghyuck.”

He just smiles and stuffs the last of his fries into his mouth.

The rest of your meal is silent, your mind running wild with the thoughts of how often you lean into Taeyong’s touch, how often you crave it, and just how obvious you might be if Donghyuck noticed within the span of a couple of days.

With your teeth digging into your bottom lip, you pace in front of your bed, phone in one hand while the other scrubs at your eye in mild frustration to save the base makeup you have on. You’ve gotten dressed for your movie date and you were in the middle of adding a touch of highlighter to your high-points when you heard Donghyuck’s phone ring, the latter answering it with a greeting followed by Taeyong’s name. You felt childish pressing your ear against your closed bedroom door to hear his side of the conversation better. He hummed a few times, then told Taeyong that you already had plans and wouldn’t be joining them, and all of a sudden you wanted to join them.

Well, you haven’t seen Donghyuck in close to a year. You’ve barely spent time with him since he temporarily moved in, having been at work earlier and only saying your greetings with a ruffle of his hair while on your way to your room when you got back in. You were exhausted and needed to fall face first onto your bed asap. You should definitely spend some time with him, and now would definitely be the perfect time to do so. You don’t have to plan anything because you’re sure Taeyong has gotten everything planned out already, and then the latter being there is just a little bonus.

You unlock your phone with your thumb, go to your call log, and tap the third contact from the top.

“Hello?”

“Hey, babe. What are you doing?”

“Trying to decide if I want to wear jeans or joggers tonight,” Johnny chuckles.

“About tonight…” you say after a beat, teeth back in your bottom lip. You hope he hasn’t done his hair already.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“I was wondering if we could possibly reschedule for next weekend?”

It’s silent on the other line for a few seconds, so you move the phone away from your ear to see if he hung up (which you know he wouldn’t do but there’s a guilty conscious for you) or lost connection.

“Yeah,” Johnny sounds unsure once the phone is back on your ear. “Is there a reason?”

You’re going to break skin if you bite any harder.

“Remember Donghyuck?” He hums. “He just came back in town and I’m letting him crash here for a little. It’s been a while so I wanted to take him out tonight, also as an apology for starving him all day,” you chuckle, voice even and believable to your own ears.

Well, it’s not a complete lie.

The tone of Johnny’s voice changes immediately. “Of course, baby. Don’t sound so guilty. I’m sure Donghyuck really wants to spend time with you after not seeing you for so long.” He laughs softly. You can practically see him waving a dismissive hand in the air. “We can just go Friday or Saturday night.”

A small relieved smile tugs at your mouth as a sigh leaves it. “Thanks for not hating me. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You can hear the smile in his voice, envisioning an eye roll. “Call me when you get back in, ‘kay?”

“Alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

He’s so understanding it breaks your heart but you’re doing your best to delude yourself into believing you’re really going to this outing just for Donghyuck.

As soon as you hang up the same three knocks from earlier pound against the wood of your front door, startling you. A glance as your reflection in the mirror connected to your dresser makes you grimace, the sight of your half done face and hair not so pretty. Speed walking to the door that connects your room to the bathroom, you push it open and do the quickest winged liner you’ve done and quickly yet carefully put some mascara on. You put and misplaced strands of hair where they belong and barely remember to grab your jacket before exiting the bathroom using the other door that leads into your hallway. You’re just in time to see Donghyuck slipping his shoes on and Taeyong leaning against the door, stopping in the middle of his sentence when he spots you coming towards them.

“Well don’t you look like a snack.” Taeyong wiggles his eyebrows at you, eyes raking up and down your body. “Hyuck told me you had plans so I’m guessing you’re going out with J—”

“With the two of you? Yep,” you cut him off, giving him a quick smile and diverting your attention from his face to your shoes as you slip them on. Your heart is beating loudly from a combination of the rising guilt you feel from cancelling on Johnny and the guilt you feel from being happy you get to see Taeyong again and spend time with him outside of work today.

He eyes you suspiciously, making eye contact with Donghyuck with a brow arched in confusion. The latter just shrugs.

“So where are we going?”

“To the dessert shop that just opened by my place,” he says unsurely, opening the door. “My car or yours?”

“Can I drive?”

You and Taeyong immediately shut down Donghyuck’s request. His lip curls up in offense, but he gets over it and links his arm with yours as you all make your way down the wooden stairs.

“Try this.”

You bring your fork up to Donghyuck’s mouth, feeding him some of your cake. Taeyong opens his mouth and makes a noise expectedly.

A bit of icing gets on the corner of his mouth at the forkful your feed him, so you swipe at the small glob with your thumb then lick it off.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “What happened to your date?”

“Yeah, what changed?” Taeyong ask, attention back on his plastic fork, licking a clump of icing off of it.

You’re momentarily distracted by the way his pink tongue laps at the icing, but then Donghyuck’s shifting body beside you snap you out of your trance. “Oh,” you wave a dismissive hand. “He’s beat from the long shift he worked. And it worked out perfectly because now I can bond with Hyuck,” you smile, pinching the youngest’s cheek as his face goes from confused to a fake scowl.

“Damn, well I’m glad you could be here with us.” Taeyong smiles, reaching forward to steal more of your cake.

“Me, too,” you nod, biting your lip at the thought of if Taeyong was anticipating your company. When he invited you, was he just doing it to be nice since he was picking Donghyuck up from your place? Or did he genuinely want you to come? You shake your head slightly, knocking the unnecessary thoughts out. You shouldn’t be thinking so hard over an invitation to get dessert with a couple of the closest people to you. It’s not that deep.

You and Taeyong tease Donghyuck and ask questions about how college life is, and when things go quiet and everyone’s doing their own thing for a while on their phones, it’s hard not to stare at the male sitting in front of you as he runs a hand through his hair and slumps in his seat, licking his lips as he focuses on whatever is on his screen. He’s just so effortlessly attractive.

It’s also hard to not notice Donghyuck’s intense gaze on the side of your face.

Donghyuck’s eyes either translate to he’s trying to read you, or that he knows something, and when you raise an eyebrow to silently question him, he just shakes his head before asking Taeyong a question, starting up another conversation.

#taeyong scenario #taeyong scenarios #nct scenario #nct scenarios #back at it again with shitty endings #i hope this version is okay rip

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maximumkillshot · 5 years

Text

The Situation-Part Three

Warnings: Mentions of Menstrual cycle, Gender bent! Dean Winchester, Some Cursing, I can’t remember anything else at the moment but I hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: None

Characters: Gender Bent! Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, ofc Stacey, omc Kyle

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!!

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

Wanna Chat? Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

Previously:

Soon I felt myself plop down in Baby’s back seat…

As soon as Baby’s engine roared to life I said, “Hey Sammy?”

“Yeah, Dean?”

“I’m glad you came back…”

“What?”

“After Jess… I was afraid you’d pull away… that I’d lose you for good, y’know… but you didn’t… Maybe it’s selfish of me or maybe it’s the booze but I’m happy you came back… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You would’ve been fine,” said Sammy.

“No, I wouldn’t have been ‘fine’. I wasn’t fine when you were gone either… I missed you. Had no idiot little brother to nag me about my Nirvana tapes. Would’ve never had fun like I had tonight, wouldn’t have anything without you.”

“Shut up… Missed you too…”

“We’re a team, right Sammy?”

“Yeah… yeah, we are…”

“Mmmm I knew it,” I said as I passed out.

My head, it’s throbbing so much, and my stomach, oh my god my stomach. Why is my back killing me?

“Gahh what happened?” I said absentmindedly as I tried to stretch, then I felt my hand hit something, cold and porcelain. When I opened my eyes I realized, I was in my bathroom on the floor. When I looked down at my body I got scared…. “WHY AM I STILL A CHICK?” I whined to no one. The minute I moved my ass I felt wet…

Almost knowing what was coming I got up and I felt a rush of fluid in my pants, I couldn’t control it… I just looked up to God and said, “C’mon C’mon no whammies, no whammies….” and I pulled down my pants…

“OH MAH GOD,” I said almost horrified... The stench... The feeling, the sheer amount… Blood and goo were everywhere on that pad...okay…

Halfway through the cleanup, I decided to just give up on the whole thing entirely and chuck the panty and the pad away. I jumped into the shower and started to scrub until I felt human again. When I got out of the shower Sam was waiting at the doorway of my room…

“Ah, she lives I see,” said Sam…

“I’m more surprised than you ever could be… Are you sure just the lining is being shed here because I saw enough blood and guts to Frankenstein a whole damn organ.”

“I would say too much information but it’s too late for that.”

“Hey, if I’m being emotionally scarred so are you.” I quipped.

“How are you feeling though…” asked Sam.

“Like I need more clothing and shoes, if Rowena isn’t going to be here for a few more days, I can’t just wear the same thing…” I said begrudgingly.

“You aren’t gonna like half of the things they have at the store, they’re all either pink, purple, or a dress.” I looked with a slight smile. Hmmm, maybe a dress isn’t that bad. “What is that face for?” I asked what face and he replied with, “That’s the ‘i have an idea but I’m not sure you’ll go with it’ face.”

“Don’t say anything until I finish” I said as I played with the hem of my shirt, “Ma-maybe a dress isn’t as bad as it seems,” Sam’s jaw dropped as I continued, “I mean think about it, with these diaper torture chambers on, having some airflow wouldn’t be too bad. I feel like I’m being smothered here, maybe some breeze would be good.” Sam replied with a smart quip about heels and I responded with, “I actually heard that heels work out the calves and help with balance, after all, if a drunk chick can walk in heels, I’m pretty damn sure I can walk in them too.”

As soon as we set foot in the mall I was assaulted with the smell of cologne from the Abercrombie and Fitch store, which always gave me a headache.

Why are all the guys staring at me… No matter how many ‘get away from me or I’ll shoot you’ vibes I send, they still stare. Every once in a while, while Sam strayed away from me, more guys kept on coming up to me, hitting on me… ON ME….. a HUNTER…. Every time I have to remind myself I’m just playing a role, kind of like how I have to act like I care when Sammy talks about lore. Smile… say “thank you”, awkwardly walk away towards Sammy, Sammy scowls, they walk away, repeat. Over and over again….

I mean I don’t blame them, I’m hot… like 12 alarm fire in a 2 alarm apartment hot… I mean I make ghost peppers jealous, but that doesn’t mean that they need to stare at me like that… right? Is this how I always treated women at bars… Gawking, shooting my shot, scoring or walking away…. I never considered how they felt… Like a fucking trophy, an item to be won… It feels miserable. I’m just trying to live yet I can’t walk 5 feet away from Sammy without being approached by a random guy.

“Sammy can we leave pleaseee” I whined as I saw him pick up yet another flannel from the rack in an all men’s clothing store.

“This would go faster if you’d tell me, which one do I pick?” Asked Sam as he picked two flannel’s off the rack, one a seafoam blue, another a chestnut red.

“Seafoam, definitely seafoam, goes better with your eyes and offers a pop of color from that mop on your head that you call a hairdo,” I said as plainly as possible. Sam looked at me weird and I replied with, “What? You think I’m going to let you buy something that doesn’t flatter you? I may be moody but I am not cruel.”

“Awee you two are such a cute couple!” Said a tiny female associate of the store. I scoffed as Sammy pulled me closer and said, “Thanks so much.

“How long have you two been together?” gushed the woman.

“Too damn long” I grumbled.

Sam replied with, “Haha, Deena, you are too funny, we’ve been together since Middle School.” Oh, I bet he’s enjoying this. As soon as I become tall again I’m kicking his ass. If I tried now it’d just make things worse… right now the chant in my head is ‘just give it time, give it time.’

“You are such a lucky woman, someone as tall and handsome as him,” said the woman.

I replied with, “He may look like this now but in middle school. Man he was zit city, had about as much muscle mass as a piece of paper, and the highest pitch voice you’ve ever heard.”

“OH MY GOD, THAT’S ADORABLE!!!!!” She squealed, “It was never about looks huh?”.

I replied, “No, it was about me being fed up with stretching to reach the top shelf… In return, I prevent him from committing fashion crimes.” She started laughing as Sam’s face turned a bright red and I pinched his cheek saying, “Something wrong Baby? You look a little flustered…”

“Mmm fine. I guess we are going with the seafoam?” Said Sam.

“Only if you wanna make your eyes pop Pumpkin!” I said with exaggerated enthusiasm as I snatched the flannel from his hand.

As the sales associate walked away Sam said, “I was trying to sell it, you didn’t need to be such a dick.”

I replied with, “Just wanted to remind you that, normally, I have one.” After we paid we then headed to where Sam found the camisole and the jeans, Rue21.

As as we walked in I immediately said “No… nononononono” It looked like the 60s and today’s pop culture threw up all over the store. Pink and Purples scattered the walls, literally fighting for my attention, almost immediately giving me a headache. The only saving grace being the one Rolling Stones sweatshirt they had, and even then, it was cheap, it was scratchy, it was never going on my body… that I definitely knew.

“Sam we’ve gotta go,” I said near a mental breakdown. “These colors give me a headache and I have no clue but I think that the garbage that they’re playing isn’t helping…” As soon as I heard that I heard a random man yell ’squaaa’ and I jumped. Sam laughed as I replied, “How are you so calm, it looks like John Lennon got high on acid, came to the present day, and tried to make clothing that combined the two eras, man. That’s not to mention the Barbie clothing everywhere so can we please just leave…”

“I’ve never seen you so worked up over music, relax man it’s just Fetty Wap,” chuckled Sam…

I looked confused, “Sam, stop speaking in tongues before I exorcize you. The point is that we need to get the hell outta here before any of the poor sonsabitches that were hired here spot us.”

“Well, then where are we gonna find clothing?”

Then I remembered….. LISA! Lisa told me about how girls like to help each other pick out clothing. “I got it!”, Sam looked intrigued, ”I’m gonna ask a random chick who is dressed like an actual human being where they got their clothing. I remember Lisa telling me that girls would ask for her fashion advice all of the time…. And she actually liked it!”

“Why didn’t I think about that?” asked Sammy.

“I have no idea, you’re usually the smart one…” I said as I lead the way out.

We basically roamed around until I found this hot chick that was walking around with a dude who looked like a jock of some sort. She had a style that I actually liked, she had camo pants on that hugged her ass perfectly, a ripped up AC/DC tee with a nice camo jacket, and a nice pair of heeled combat looking boots to go with it. I immediately smacked Sam on the chest and I said “Her… she can tell me where to go…”

I immediately made a beeline to her smiling, she immediately smiled back and I said, “I’m sorry to bother you guys, but I absolutely adore that outfit, where did you get these clothes?”

She smiled and giggled as she said “Oh these? Thanks so much, I got the camo pieces at Torrid, the shirt at Hot Topic, and the boots were at Payless for $15. Well, it’s easier if I just show you..”

“Ok, where are those places?” I giggled, trying to seem as confident as possible, soon I felt Sam behind me, I introduced him to the couple. I found out her name was Stacey and her boyfriend's name was Kyle.

Stacey looked at me and said, “Y’know what, how about you and me go shopping and the boys can hang out and do their thing.”

I looked at Sam and he said, “Go if you want to, babe. You spotted that outfit from across the mall… Go for it, have fun!”

Kyle looked at Sam and said, “C’mon there’s a Bass Pro Shop… I heard they got new crossbows in… let’s let the girls be girls, call us when you’re done, okay?” he then kissed her on the lips and walked towards Sam, almost expecting him to come up to me.

Sam walked up to me and said “Alright babe, if you need anything let me know okay” then he kissed me on the forehead… I…. I don’t know how to feel right now. I wanna kick him in the balls, so so badly. Yet… I admire the way he navigated the situation. The next thing I knew I was being pulled in the opposite direction by Stacey.

The first place we set foot in was Hot Topic. The minute we walked in I took a giant breath. All of this was my style. Graphic tees were everywhere plus jackets that looked stylish yet functional, ones that actually fit a phone in the pocket instead of those ‘fashion’ jackets that stitched all of theirs shut. Immediately Stacey and I got to work, combing through the racks until we found some pieces that I could try on. After I found what I liked and what looked good, we moved onto Torrid.

In Torrid, there were more graphic tees but they also had some formal wear, like peacoats and formal shirts. But then we went to the back, where there were sexy ass dresses and lingerie.

“So, what’s your size?” she asked as she held up a sexy red lace bra.

“I, uh, I don’t know” I answered. It’s not like the boulders on my chest were the first thing to worry me.

‘OK, let’s get someone to measure you, because I am loving this bra, plus it’ll go perfectly with that mesh Rolling Stones shirt you got from Hot Topic.” She said as she went to find someone. After a few minutes, a girl with a tape measurer came at me.

“Hello my name is Ashlynn and I’m one of the associates here. Your friend said that you wanted to get sized for a bra?” asked the woman. I just nodded. I had no idea how this worked.

She told me to lift my arms and I did, then she got all in my personal space as she wrapped the tape around me then squeezed it tight. Then she told me to put my arms down and slid the tape up and over my nipples, which was… oddly pleasant and she stated, “So you’re a little small for our sizes, you’re a 32 C. Which I’m sure Victoria Secret has in its stock, in the plus size section.”

“What?” I asked shocked, “Hold on, 32 is plus sized?”

“Uhh yeah”

“What the hell’s small like?”

“ A double zero is their smallest”

“How can a human skeleton be that small?” I asked shocked.

“I honestly don’t know. Some people starve themselves, some work out until they have literally no fat on their bones… Some people are just born like that.” Said the woman as she started to look around the store.

“So is anything in here going to fit me because I really like the styles,” I said almost saddened by the news.

“Our 00 size is a size 10-12 so that should fit your frame since your shoulders are a bit wide, but we definitely have pants for you, since your hips are wide, we make jeans and pants specifically made with more room for your curves. Let’s see what we can find.”

As soon as we started looking for jeans, Stacey came back with a dress that had a giant slit at the side and a plunging neckline, “Deena, you have to get this! You HAVE to, I know it’s going to look killer on you. With those hips and that ass! You’re gonna make Sam drool in this.” I tried my best not to puke when she said that, but then it hit me…. This is the best prank opportunity ever…

“Okay let me try it on. Also, they don’t have my bra size here, but they do at Victoria’s Secret, could you go by there and get me a few sexy ones?” I asked shyly, it’s literally the next storefront so it wouldn’t be a giant trip. I gave her $50 and she went off to the lingerie store.

After finding a few pieces I went into the dressing room. I found a great leather jacket that had a bunch of classic rock band emblems on them, which I had to have…. Damn I’m sounding like a chick, anyway; I also found some really good jeans that didn’t squeeze me to all hell like the ones Sammy got me. Finally, after all of the clothing I tried, maybe a half an hour went by and I heard Stacey outside the door just as I slipped on the dress.

“Deena, I am back and girl did I find some sexy ass sets for you!! You are gonna thank me after you see Sam’s face! Hell, I’m straight and I was drooling just thinking of you in these. “

“Thanks, hey I just put on the dress,” I said with slight confidence.

“Then get out here girl!”

As soon as I walked out, her jaw dropped. She dragged me to the mirror and said, “LOOK AT YOU SEXY MAMA!! OWWW”

And to be honest, my draw dropped. The dress hugged my curves perfectly and just flattered me in a way I never knew was possible… Is this what it feels like to be beautiful?

“GIRL YOU ARE HOT!” Stacey screamed.

“I… for once I agree with that statement,” I said as I traced my own curves up and down.

“What do you mean?”

“I…. I never felt like I was good looking… People told me but I didn’t care, didn’t believe em’” I stated.

“Well, now you know… and now we have to get this dress and have a girls night!” She squealed as I chuckled and agreed.

After we bought everything, we went to Payless and got a whole bunch of boots, heels, and sneakers. As we were on our way to meet the guys… She sees a Sephora and said, “We need to get you some makeup and perfume, it’s gonna tie everything together.”

After we got everything and she told me how to use it, I got a text from Sammy that he and Kyle were at the cafeteria.

As soon as we walked in Kyle grabbed Stacey and kissed her saying, “Hey ladies, wow, looks like you guys got some good stuff!”

“Yeah, Deena has an amazing new wardrobe, and we are taking a few pieces out for a test drive, tonight actually.”

“Girls night?” Asked Kyle.

“Yeah” smiled Stacey.

“That’s great because Sam and I were just going to ask you, ladies, if we could have a guys night. Sam hasn’t seen sports on the right TV. he only has a 32 inch. He has to see the game tonight on the 72-inch plasma at out place. Which works out, since you girls are gonna go out.” smiled Kyle.

I just thought to myself… Oh, this is gonna be good.

After we exchanged numbers, Stacey handed off some of the bags and we waved goodbye to each other. On our way to the car….

“Dean, what did you do?” Sammy asked me.

“Nothing... Just got some clothes… some makeup.”

“You…. got makeup?!” snickered Sam…

“You won’t be laughing soon…” I quipped.

“What?” Sam’s face scrunched up.

“Nothing Sammy, listen I’m gonna be a chick for a few more days, I mine as well commit to the new role. You can’t tell me that me not wearing a bra or makeup is making me blend in.”

“Dean, as much as I hate to admit it, you look like a model. You don’t need that.”

“Aweee Sammy, keep on saying things like that and I’ll start to think you like me.”

Sam chuckled as we loaded Baby and headed home for our nights out.

WANT MORE? TELL ME SO!!!

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eerythingisshaka · 6 years

Text

The Coffee Prince Pt. 3

(T’Challa x Reader)

*Part 1* *Part 2*

Word Count: 4.8k

Plot: Stuck in your ways of living, one day at the coffee shop, you run into a tall dark roast that threatens to wake you up from your romantic hibernation.

*Previously*

Hi, I hope this is the right number. (Y/N), I’m just calling to see if you would come with me to the music festival this weekend. I don’t know if you heard about it or if it is your thing, but it sounds like a nice time. We could just walk around, enjoy the sounds. Uhh, just let me know when you get the chance, or I may see you at our favorite place. (laughs then clears his throat) Umm, but yeah, sorry for the long message. This is T’Challa by the way. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your phone prompts you to save or delete the message and you carefully save it before you listen a couple more times. Putting your phone away you turn on your side, squeezing your legs together to bring yourself back down again. You remind yourself that this is still just nothing more than two people meeting up at a public place with a bunch of other people. No one has claimed nobody yet. But like Tavia said, gotta milk it for what it’s worth, and how you feel right now is pretty damn priceless.

You had today on your mind every minute up until now. When you woke up for work, you felt fully rested and eager to get through the day. Not even the worst attitudes from customers could dampen your high from getting that call from T’Challa. What a name, a melody of possibility in your head whenever you thought about him. You purposely avoided the coffee shop just to make sure to keep anticipation at its peak. You felt so silly thinking about it. Tavia told you not to get too excited because it could still not count as a date yet. The music festival was a 3 day bender, with hundreds of people attending. She thought something so large and public wasn’t something a dude would choose if he is trying to choose you, in her nicest opinion. You took her advice with a grain of salt, but one thing that couldn’t be denied is that he wanted to spend some time with you and that’s that on that!

The day of your date, you put yourself through nothing but self-love and self-care to get yourself in the right mindset. Your playlist of bops hype up your spirit as your Aztec healing clay mask dry whilst you diy’d a mani-pedi for yourself. Rinsing your face of the dried clay, you feel reborn, giving yourself kissy faces and posing to the beat of your jams. For your hair, you had to go back and forth with yourself on what to do. Your hair was currently in two-strand twists, so should you let them down, showing off all you defined curl beauty? But it’s hot, so maybe a top bun or a faux hawk type of style could fit the festival vibe. Or maybe save some time and step up the glam with one of your colorful headwraps. Would he be offended, like you’re trying to be too into his culture or…

You decide to go for a half up, half down do. Taking down your twists you pony your hair right on top of your head, spreading your curls out, leaving the other half to flow freely down the nape of your neck. You put in some hoops, and some shorts to show off your most prized possessions. You thank God and your mother for your gams. A cool patterned tank and your gold gladiator sandals, you feel about ready, taking a glance in the mirror. Your curves looked more ready than you felt as you checked the denim hugging your hips, the glint of your epidermis taking up all the attention. You were a little self-conscious about having your thighs rubbing together or the shorts riding up, but those thighs were getting some attention today, so to hell with that! Your tank was loose with large holes for the arms so your bra showed in places, which you loved cuz it was a cute one and them titties were sitting proper. Your phone notifies you of your Lyft outside. You get your crossbody bag and head out.

Closing your bedroom door Tavia sitting in the living room in a big old t-shirt and bonnet, eating some hot chips, watching the TV.

“Hey girl. You look dope, wow.” Tavia said deadpan, without even looking your way.

You click your tongue, “Why you playin? You didn't even check me out. How I look?” you say with a twirl.

Tavia looks back at you. “Mhm, definitely catching somethin. You shave?”

“Yeah, moisturized, the works.” You say looking your legs over.

Tavia waves her chip at you, “Nah, nah. Did you SHAVE though?” She asks, wide eyed, sucking the hot red dust off of it comically.

“Girl! Ain’t nobody tryna smash tonight! What’re you taking me as?”

“Well damn, why not? Listen, you walk through here with some carnival game prize bigger than the door, imma assume he got some head.” Tavia says.

“Shut your ass up! I’m gone. I’ll text you the danger phrase if this goes awry.”

“That’s mama’s baby! Good Night!” Tavia says throwing up the peace sign as you walk out.

The ride to the festival felt like a cross country journey. You took the time to recheck your make-up, fan yourself from sweating since the driver seemed to not believe in A/C. You went through different scenarios of greetings. Hey! Wassup? Hi, how are you doing? Funny seeing you here! You fan yourself again trying to calm down, feeling idiotic with every minute. Maybe it wasn’t the lack of air that was the issue.

Your phone beeps, probably Tavia hyping you or humbling you one last time.

I’m here, outside the entrance when you get here :9

The symbol at the end of the text message was not something you were familiar with, so hopefully it's not a blatant sign for something. But you hopped in your seat a little. ecstatic at the message. T’Challa was early, AKA on time and waiting for you! God, what better way to have a man: ready and waiting. And the only acceptable occasion for them to come early.

The car pulls up in the parking lot a few yards from the hoopla and you thank them as you get out. Rows of cars lined the lot and the makeshift grass-converted parking area. The cacophony of noise you here from the distance welcomed you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the welcoming banner until you saw him. T’Challa paced slowly to and fro, looking up towards the sky, hands behind his back. He dressed very comfortably, in a dark green buttoned down short sleeve shirt with some embroidery design on the front, accentuating his ample shoulder span. T’Challa’s forearms were reporting for that duty, with biceps on deck. Your pace feels slows as your feet become weights pounding the pavement. Your nerves get to you as your mouth dries out. Mixed with the summer heat, and you were officially the epitome of thirsty. You try to have a proper strut down before he notices you: confident, bouncy, baddie.

T’Challa glances and finally sees you and a smile appears instantaneously on his face as he freezes in place to observe you coming up. You try to hold your smile down as much as possible. You don’t want to give him the upperhand of seeming too eager but damn, he looked fresh. Within talking distance, you exchange greetings.

“How are you, (Y/N)?” T’Challa asks pleasantly.

You nod humbly, “I am great, thanks. How about you?”

“Much better now. You look amazing this evening.” T’Challa says with a quick glance over you. Not even in a sleazy way, just like he truly appreciated your style, the apples of his cheeks practically popping off his face.

You start fanning yourself, giggling almost uncontrollably. “Aww, I know I look a lot different outside my work clothes. I can’t compare to these arms you decided to let out the house today. Where you been hiding them?” You say, turning up the flirt a little so he knows it's real.

T’Challa chuckles at you boldess, “Ahh, stop it. My sister suggested this shirt. I wondered if she was setting me up for something.”

“Mhm, for a thirst trap definitely. But it’s great.” You’re so starstruck. “Uh, your text had an odd symbol at the end of it. What does it mean?” You pull out your phone and show it.

“Ahh, I meant a smiley face. I;m not the best texter unfortunately, so typos will happen.” He puts his hands in his pockets anxiously. “Are you ready to go in?”

“Yup! Let’s hit it!” You say excitedly. T’Challa gives the ‘after you’ motion with a wave of his hand. Once y’all make it inside, you feel overwhelmed with the crowds of people walking through, dancing, talking. You get caught up in the scene, your mind fades out not sure what to tackle next.

“Do you want to walk around?” He asks over you.

You turn to see him waiting on your answer. Your introversion was coming back strong.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, let’s walk.”

Walking down the way you pass through see a couple acts performing. Nothing really bumping in the section you guys are at. You check T’Challa in your peripheral and he is just looking around, not saying anything. There is so much you could say but you don’t know the precedence to say it in. The worst thing about dating for you was the talking and getting to know each other.

“Do you know any of the acts that were performing today?” T’Challa asks you.

Shit, you thought. You didn’t even research anything about this festival. That would’ve been a great ice breaker.

“Uh...no. I didn’t. This could’ve been a country music hoedown and I’d be none the wiser.” you say pitifully.

T’Challa nods, “So, not a fan of the twang vocals of cowboys and saloon girls? What music do you listen to?”

You shake your head smiling, “Not ‘cowboys and saloon girls’ though! But those kinds of questions are too hard to ask! I listen to so many kinds, I can't devote myself to a genre. Even country sometimes, even though I lowkey trashed it just now. It has to be done right, white people always take it and bastardize it.”

“Blues, jazz, rock n roll…” T’Challa lists.

You say with a clap, “Exactly! We get stuck with the short end of the stick, erased from history.”

“I feel similarly. I am spoiled by my country’s sound. I have other artists that I enjoy but I stick to a certain group of them.”

“Any that I heard of?” you ask.

He thinks a moment. “That's the thing too, I'm not good with names! I enjoy the art and almost entirely ignore the person creating it.” You look at him incredulously. He puts his hands up in surrender. “It’s bad, I know. But I enjoy a lot of old school acts, R&B, soul. And of course local bands from Wakanda.”

“You will have to let me listen to some of your music then.” You say, suddenly shy again. Did that come off too strong? Too eager, as per usual.

T’Challa makes a subtle grunt noise, stopping next to you, “Oh, so you definitely want to see me after this, eh?” l

You smile as your stomach does NOLA bounce routine. Trying not to answer right away, you fake a thinking pose, “Slip of the tongue, but we will see how the night goes.” you say teasingly.

You guys walk past concessions and T’Challa offers to buy.

“What do you desire?” he asks.

Looking over the menu, you really hadn't worked up an appetite yet but you sure as hell was hot in the unforgiving humidity.

“Just a slushie, please.”

“Good choice. What flavor?”

“Red.”

T’Challa looks back at you confused, “And by chance, what flavor is red?”

You roll your eyes, “Are you pushing your respectability politics off on me? Red is red, I said what I said.”

T’Challa laughs at your antics, placing the order with the cashier. He gets one too, in blue. You both walk down the way, enjoying your treats.

“Mm, this is so good. Thanks for buying.” you say as you eat the sugary ice. The coolness radiates through your body against the evening heat.

“You don’t have to thank me. You’re too polite; I’ll have to fine you for your courtesies.”

“Nooo, I’m poor, please!” you look to him with puppy dog eyes for forgiveness

T’Challa sips from his straw as he mulls it over. “I’ll let you off with good behavior, for now.”

“Too kind, my good man.” you say before sticking your red-dyed out at him in jest.

T’Challa laughs at your action, “Your maturity is unmatched.”

A bell dings nearby and a crowd erupts. One of those strong man meters is set up and is obviously a crowd favorite.

“Hey, you think you could do work on that over there?”

T’Challa checks it out shaking his head slightly unsure, “Ahh, I haven’t been to the gym in a while, I don’t know…”

You look over at the worker passing a teddy to the patron, “Well, I want to at least get a consolation prize. I’ll give it a go. Hold this.” You hand your empty cup to T’Challa, strolling over.

“Madam, would you like to take a crack at it?” The candy striped worker said, handing the mallet your way.

“Damn right!” you say confidently.

“You can do it!” you look behind you see T’Challa, beaming, holding up both cups. You square up and take a swing. No bell rung, and it didn’t make it past wimp, but the thrill was nice as you came out of your shell a little more.

“Nice try, young lady, nice try. But no one goes away empty handed. For you!” the candy striped man gives you a mini plushie duck fitting the palm of your hand.

“Thank you! It’s so cute,” You say, walking away smiling at the cute animal in hand.

“Maybe it’d ring if she sat on it.” a nearby voice said.

A white guy red as a beet sneers as you catch his eye, sipping his beer. You feel your good vibes disintegrate as he smiles pridefully at his joke, you. One thing that you haven’t been able to shake yet is how hurtful comments to your face about your weight can be. Remnants from your childhood made for a shaky foundation in your establishment of your worth. You knew these crowds would be an issue eventually.

“You sir, you’d like a shot?” You didn’t even notice until he had the hammer in his hand, but T’Challa was at the game getting ready to swing down. The ball shot up the column, rang the bell like a thunderclap, and knocked the dome clean off of it.

T’Challa looked over to the man in the crowd pointing the hammer his direction, “If you can only find confidence in talking down to others, I would suggest you lay your head right down here next time, so I can drum some sense into your brain, eh?” The white man was wiping his shirt, looking back at T’Challa all shooketh. He must’ve jumped out of his skin when T’Challa brought the hammer down.

The candy striped guy picked up the dome of the bell, “Uh, sir, did you want your prize or…”

T’Challa lays the hammer against the game, “Yes, my good man.”

The worker handed T’Challa a large, plush black cat. T’Challa took it, striding over to you. Your heart swelled with delight as he handed it to you. Not been to the gym in a while, my ass!, you thought. Those arms, back, shoulders, with some thigh assist didn’t lie though. You hugged your prize close.

T’Challa stood in front of you with concern, “Are you ok? I’m sorry if I acted out of turn.”

You looked at him shaking your head, “Don't apologize, or I’ll have to fine you!” you say with a wag of you finger.

“T’Challa smiled with relief, “He had no right to speak to you like that.”

You sigh, “I’ve heard it before, and I’ve heard even worse.” You start to walk on as T’Challa followed. “It was hard for me to fit in growing up at first because of my size, so I was bullied early on. But I started beating people to the punchline and the bullying soon stopped.”

“Do you ever believe the things people say?” T’Challa asked.

“No, not all the time anyway. It’s gotten better since college. I look at a lot of body positive people online and learn some tricks to cope.”

“(Y/N), I won’t tell you how to feel but anyone that talks about you with ill intent is either insane or not completely right up here.” He says pointing to his head.

You gained comfort from the respite T’Challa gave you. “I know, and sometimes it's not even them. I can be my worst critic. But I know not to fall for the smooth talking Negros that like to prey on the vulnerable too.” you say pointedly.

T’Challa looks to you mouth agape, “I don’t consider myself a smooth person, so I won’t take that as a warning to me.”

“Oh please! You waltzing over to threaten the guy in my honor? Smoove. Buying me a water a while back to soothe my scalded tongue? Smoove. The fact that you even got me to talk to you? Smoover than smoove.”

T’Challa laughs, “All right, enough! It’s not on purpose however. Certain traits become exemplified when I’m around certain kinds of people.” He looks at you smiling before looking on. You hug your cat tighter. Which cat you ask? WELL......

T’Challa goes on, “and I'm no stranger to bullying myself.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I have a very smart alek, very calculative jester for a little sister who has no end to calling out my uncool ways.”

You laugh, “Little siblings are the worst. I know, cuz I am one, and we have that right!”

“Bast, when will the tyranny end!” T’Challa calls to the skies.

A stage nearby lights up with low glow blues and purples, yellows and greens. The a crowd erupts as the act is about to start up and you hear something familiar.

“Oh my God.” You freeze in your place.

“What is it?” T’Challa asks worrisome.

“Do you know them?? Oh my God!” You say without anything else, running into the crowd as the act steps up to their mics.

T’Challa trails you until you reach a stopping point.

“Oh my God, The Internet! Syd! Oh my GOD!!” You scream waving around your plushie.

Syd tha Kyd steps to the mic, crooning the crowd with her soft falsetto. You sing along right with her, enamored by the surprise. You look to T’Challa in all the excitement and you catch him smirking at you, nodding along to the music. You take his hand and raise it up to sway side to side on the track, the electricity you felt being a mix from your idols and the foine dime to the side of you. You booty bump him playfully to get him loose, he bumps you back. All worries are cast away as the songs envelope you both, each one drawing you nearer to him, hands clenched the entire time.

Their set wasn’t long, but you guys stayed for the entirety of it as the night sky cast over the park, stars decorating the sky. The temperatures became bearable as the sun finally fell. Torches lit the way for you all to see and walk around. Once The Internet finished their set and the crowd dispersed, you and T’Challa start scoping for some grub.

“Do they have any wings around here or cheese fries, or somethin?” you ask out loud.

T’Challa looks over the vendors signs and points, “Ahh, your wish is granted! I’ll go ahead and order.”

“Wait! I can’t eat wings AND cheesy fries, I was just playing!” You weren’t but you wanted to be a lady.

“It’s ok, I’ll get both and we can split. I’ll be back!” Breaking from you, he walks on.

You hold your plushie close to you as you wait. Looking around the park you think this would be a perfect picture moment for the gram. Pulling out your phone you see you have a text from Tavia.

Ummm, what happened to texting me to make sure things were good though, like….

You text her back. I was supposed to let you know if things are BAD. No news is good news right?

Going to the camera, you shoot some scenery shots. Looking over your options, Tavia texts back. Well my bad! Ok, keep doin you boo!

T’Challa comes back with wings in one hand, cheesy fries in the other. God, you didn’t know what looked better: the food or him. And you were hungry regardless.

“I got some waters too.” He said, handing you the fries so he could get the waters from under his arm.

“Ooh, good thinking. Let’s find a spot to sit.” you say as you take down a fry. Walking into the park you find an unoccupied bench and sit. The faded music in the background was very chill, setting the mood. T’Challa takes a wing, eating the meat off. You absentmindedly watch his mouth chew as he ate. The muscles of his jaw masticating, his concentration to get every bit off the bone.

T’Challa wipes his hands and looks to you, “You were amazing back at the stage.”

You snap out of your trance, thinking over what he said, “Listen, I didn't do anything. Syd and them, were going off and they haven’t made a bad track yet. I’m only a fan.”

“It was pretty cool to see you so free spirited. And I heard you a little. You have some singing in your background, eh?”

You make a so-so motion with your hand, “I mean, a little bit. I’ve never done it for an audience but my shower is a long time fan of mine.”

He laughs, “It’s really captivating to watch. I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were here, but the music brought out another side I really enjoyed seeing.”

“Right! I appreciate you noticing that. I wasn't sure either cuz I’m such a homebody and then that guy. I still can’t wrap my head around you standing up for me that way either. I never had that happen for me.”

“Oh, Bast! I haven’t had someone so endearing to do that for. He doesn't know anything about you, otherwise he would’ve dusted the ground for you to walk.”

You laugh with your hands on your hips mockingly, “Well you haven’t even done that!”

“I can't defend the Queen and clean the quarters!”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “By the way, I heard you say that before. What is ‘Bast’?”

“Where I'm from that is a religious figure that some follow. A panther God.”

You cock your head to the side in curiosity, “Ohh do you have rituals, symbolism, and things around it?”

“Of course! Chants, dances, the works. Every religion just about does. Do you follow a Christian God?”

You nod. “Mhm, Team Jesus right here.”

T’Challa smiles, “Well, we have similar teaching just the practices stray off.”

“I always wondered about what religion I would have, had it not been for, you know.”

“Luckily my family does not know of that life, but I understand. God is all around us, comes in many forms in my opinion. I try to give honor wherever I am that things still grow, the earth still spins, things like that.”

You look up at the sky overwhelmed with the sensations of a successful evening, “God, it’s so beautiful out.”

He looks up. “The city sky does not compare to a Wakandan one, for sure.”

You look at him, his neck stretched back wanting to touch it, “Tell me about it. Your home.”

He leans back, resting his arm across the back of the bench. “Words couldn't do it justice. But just think about the most beautiful scenery you can imagine from nature shows, or pictures in a magazine. Then amplify it by one hundred.”

“You still have family there?”

T’Challa smiles to himself, “Yes. Mother, sister, and a bunch of people I consider family. It’s a close knit community”

“Wow. Do you miss it?” you ask.

“I do, all the time. But I haven’t thought about it once tonight.” Looking up to you, his eyes trained on your face. He says tossing a wing to the side, looking away in the distance again; clenching his jaws, resting his hands on his thighs. He looks nervous.

While studying his face you notice a unique detail to his hairline. “You have the most adorable widow’s peak. Just look at that.” You reach over, stopping midway as he looks at you expectantly, “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head. You lightly feel the curls that bunch to form this hereditary marvel.

“I wish I had one. It adds so much character to one's appearance. Like you need any but it’s like a little treasure.” you say smirking as his curls tickled your fingertips.

While touching it, you look at T’Challa who is focused on you, not saying a word. Mouth slightly agape, his eyes look to your mouth then back at your eyes. If there was ever a chance to kiss him, this was probably it.

“Uhh, did you hear me, or…” you say trailing off and chickening out, moving away a little to ease the building arousal between you.

“I want to compliment you now.” He says reaching for your hand, holding it. “Your eyes have an innocence that makes me feel unworthy to hold your glance. But I can’t help but to not look at you. You remind me of every beautiful trademark that makes a woman special. I could go on, but I don’t want to offend you. But I hope I can get to know more of you, so I can verbalize it properly.”

You look down at his long, knuckley hand holding yours. “T’Challa I don’t want you to talk about me anymore.”

T’Challa looks concerned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You stomach trembles inside as you try to find the words, “No, I know what you mean. But this is a lot for me to take in. I’ll say it’s been a while since I’ve been paid attention to like this, so it’s kind of overwhelming but…” you move his hand and inch closer. “I’m not a big conversationalist so I just want to...”

Your lips find each other, softly embraced in a kiss made for fairytales. But you felt so much more than what the kiss portrayed: excitement, joy, aroused at the fact that his face meshed with yours so perfect. His hand found the small of your back as your hand caressed his face gently to ensure the reality of it all. Breaking away slowly you both stare into each other, high off on the clouds of infatuation.

“Man, I dig you.” You say trying to break some of the romantic tension.

He smiles, “And I dig you, umhle.”

You smirk, “What that mean?”

“Something you should be very familiar with: ‘beautiful’”

“I could get used to that definitely.” you say, embracing him once more.

As much as you could stay on that bench forever, it was getting late and the mosquitoes were being disrespectful. T’Challa offered to take you home when the time came, but you needed a break or you might invite him up. You car arrives and you hug him goodbye. His hands wound around your back firmly, you securing yourself around his shoulders you take a mental note of his frame, so comfortable and meant for you.

“I had a great time, T’Challa,” you whisper in his ear.

“The pleasure was mine, (Y/N). Let me know when you’ve arrived home safely?”

You nod, giving him a peck on the cheek for good measure. You get in the car and he closes the door behind you, seeing you off. You hug your panther plushie tight to your face as you recap the evening. You were practically buoyant as you rode home, petting your prize tenderly, wishing it was T’Challa in your lap.

Making your way to your apartment, you open the door to see Tavia knocked out on the couch, and even bigger mess of snacks surrounding her and the table as she snores. You slam the door to wake her up.

She startles awake, looking at you squinty, “Well damn, What time is it?”

“Maybe, midnight by now?”

“Mm, decent hour, must not have given up the draws. Well go on and tell me about it” She wipes her eyes, getting a better look at you, noticing your plushie. “Uh-uh! You got a prize!! What did I tell you!”

“Bitch, I didn’t suck his dick. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” you say feigning tiredness.

“How fucking dare you! I aint get no sleep cuz of you, you aint gettin none cuz of me!”

“Girl, you were just knocked out! Go to bed.”

“But-”

Good night Tavia!”

You close your room door, tossing T’Challa Jr. on your bed. Kicking your shoes off, taking your hair down, you pull out your phone.

Home safe! You send to him. You put your phone down and unclothe to get comfortable. Suddenly a ding sounds and you dive for your device.

Glory to Bast. Sleep well, umhle.

You read it a couple of times before setting your phone back down. Laying down, you clutch your prized possession T’Challa won you to your chest as the day’s event float in your head: euphorically exhausted.

Part 4

Other Works

King Kil’mawalls

T’akia

N’Jadaka’s Helpful Hands

Some Weeks Are Better Than Others

Commencement Day

Song of Stevens

My Ragtag

@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@hairhattedghooligan@universalbri @therevolution-willbelive@you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines @airis-paris14 @afraiddreamingandloving @kreolemami

No mans land Tags

afraiddreamingandloving groovybbyy and nyeebey, yall here too! I just can’t tag you for some reason <3</p>

#tchalla #t'challa #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #t'challa x reader #tchalla x reader #t'challa x you #black panther au #marvrl au #t'challa fanfic #fanfic

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wellthatwasaletdown · 6 years

Text

Just a mess but post whenever you're bored lol. Great blog btw.

My advice to Harry for HS2 (this eh… got away from me)

First would be head over to Sweden to Max Martin and beg him to write songs with a kind of racketing Northern UK 80s vibe (think Jessie’s girl), some rollicking early George Michael, and a little bit of Tom Jones cheese on top. No hair metal, no 70s dreariness, no bombast. (Stop trying to reincarnate FM and GnR through a British xfactor contestant Irving – its making everyone look silly!). Second he should head back over to Nashville for some nice country song songs he can pour his wee heart into. It’d be a mixed bag but so were Midnight Memories and MITAM and they’re great albums imo. ‘Girl name’ songs and hook-up songs are mostly banned because HS1 has forever tainted Harry singing songs like that with a truly nasty level of misogyny. Instead the songs should be as follows but in no particular order:

‘A boat from an Island up my Own Arse’ (James’ song) : about what happens when you fall for your own follower count and start acting the arse – relatable for loads of kids in these days of social media notoriety.

This song could be deep and introspective and Harry could get Kodaline to help him write it (they already have a good one on this called The Answer) or it could be a fun rocking slap up his own head, a tongue in cheek send up of his own hype. His choice, artist input is important. You could have loads of fun with this video but Jaffsen (James, Jeff, Ben) are banned from any involvement, except they can cameo as themselves maybe.

2 ‘Look At You Now’ ; continuing on from the theme of 1. This song could be a counterpoint, fast where the other is slow or vice versa. Its not a love song, it’s about that one friend you took for granted, and mean-girled in front of your cooler friends just because they were all awkward laughing and train-track braces but now they’re all grown and fit and you’re looking a bit past your sell by date. Also relatable in a post high school sort of way to a lot of people. Perfect chance for a bit of open-ended homoeroticism - like a love song to how fit and thick your former best male friend has gotten and how you kinds wish you were him.

4. ‘Guess I’m just a Tool’ ; about what happens when the only friends you have, only met you when you were already famous and all your old mates got sick of you. Not a ‘waah haterz abe jealous’ song (the world has had enough of those) – a little insight and something new to say will be required. Sloppy lyrics or ideas not accepted.

5. ‘Looking at me, looking at me’ ; this could be Abba-esque, and the. one. song. where Jeff is allowed to adlib, with ‘Ah-Haaa’ (he must dress as Alan Partridge for the video though that’s non-negotiable). This one is about narcissism in the present day when you realise even on other people’s birthdays you’re always just checking out yourself in the selfie. Could be all deep and sorrowful eiher – but then no Jefe, no adlibs. It would be most fun as a joke song though. We’ll leave it to Harry and his hopefully new therapist to figure out where the song goes.

(Corden would almost certainly want to do the video but he’s banned, along with all the Kardashians. Jefe could cameo as above but not contribute any ideas at all. This could not be Kendall does Protest levels of bad, it’s a song about narcissism, not an exercise in narcissism)

6. ‘You’re to coo-ool for meee, in all the ti-ings you beee’ ; this is about what it’s like when your best friend always looks like Apollo fcked a Disney princess and sent the child to be brought up by the ghost of Jimi Hendrix. Also a good chance for open ended homoeroticism. Every piece of clothing you own looks better on him and he just does everything so much cooler. You hate him but you love him, this love is tainted. A mea culpa for the dark sided shit team Azoff have almost certainly pulled on Z.

7. ‘Don’t you wish you could be Louis’ Girl’ ; a straight up rip off of Jessie’s Girl really. This sounds bad but in a surprise twist it would actually be a paean, a celebration of the string of fit girls Louis has loved, in the best tradition of Northern UK rock. It would be updated to include an element of empathy for, and celebration of, the millions of us who aren’t size E.

The song would also have a note of the longing that comes from your best friend always being in long term relationships along with lots of nice non-misogynistic celebration of women of all shapes and sizes and family types. A mea culpa for Kiwi and all the other nastiness of HS1. Girl Almighty but raunchier music and better lyrics.

Larries will be happy thinking it’s about Harry wishing he was Louis’ girl, but the kindness in the lyrics will cut off the nastiness they tend to spew. Harry will pull on his big boy pants and reiterate the need for fans to stop trashing other women in interviews, while humbly admitting the song is a rip-off, a tongue in cheek homage to

8. ‘Untitled’ ; this is about what happens when your best friend gets on a leetle too well with your love. They have all the same interests, they start to finish each other’s sentences, they get each other’s jokes when you don’t…. they touch each other alot … ‘jokingly’. You don’t wanna act Zealous but fucks sake! …. Cue 1 million Zouis fan vids and Zourry triangle angst fics! I live for them!

9. ‘I got caught up in the wrong kind of love’ ; this one could be serious, country and western vibes, that pulls together a lot of the earlier themes. Its about what happens when you let down the love of your life because you get too caught up in loving your own career. That hot friend from song 8 ends up being their shoulder to cry on and they end up comforting each other in all kinds of ways. You’re all wronged but you all did wrong. Everybody hates everybody but no one can move on. There is potential for two more songs looking at same situation from different angles.

Ssshh, these don’t have to be real - cue aaall the fics, this fandom runs on them after all.

10. A cover of ‘I can’t help falling in love with you.’ Don’t … touch me.

11. Bonus Track: Harry, Liam and Tinie Tempah cover Don’t Worry, Be Happy. It is released as a single and they donate the proceeds to a shelter in Thailand that rescues trafficked girls.

TLDR: Harry ceases to be as ass about 1D and himself and remembers that he got famous by being fun and light and bringing a little joy to people’s lives. He doesn’t have to abandon attempts to write his own deep and / or experimental album, he just has to postpone it until he has the groundwork done, musically, intellectually, spiritually.

Promo: Jaffben are not allowed anywhere near the recording process except for Jefe on song 5. Jefe does not go to RS or NME for promo. He goes to Closer and OK. Harry goes on Loose Women and Elvis Duran and Jonathan Ross and gives intelligible answers about the end of 1D, his last album, his new direction etc and doesn’t act all disingenuous like he doesn’t know why the interviewer would want to know. He gives 0 long-form masturbatory interviews to glossy magazines.

He can draw whatever lines he likes around his personal life as long as he states it clearly, gives a reasonable explanation on his take on privacy now vs the family feel of early 1D, and then sticks to it. Jefe does not use the gossip rags as promo. If he’s being all private then his mother and sister are 100% silent on him too, no backdoor gossip mongering, no nepotism, no encouraging invasive stalkers. He ceases to let all and sundry use him to shill their shit. This fandom has been bled dry enough already. He gets his passive aggressive tendencies under control and only uses them to silence the nastier elements of his fandom.

There is no perfume ad, no docuwank, unless Jaffben want to film themselves actually jerking off to their HS shrines - they can put that on pornhub at their own discretion. Basically Jaffben and Apple are not allowed to monetise the shit out of this fandom. Harry puts himself out there and sells his music. The End.

Or y’know he carries on as is, lets Jefe bag him some more film roles, maybe a romantic ‘comedy’ with the same nasty misogynistic undertones as his album and the shitcom? (Think Apatow but worse) Does another derivative album, gets Irving to pull strings so its praised no matter what, rinse repeat.

#harry styles #submission

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