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elijahs-wife · 4 years

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Sick Day

Requested by @hellotvshowtrash: “Hi I just really love your Elijah fics. Can you do on that’s about Elijah taking care of the reader after an injury or while they’re sick?” I’M SORRY THIS TOOK AAAGES TO POST! Life has been kinda nuts lately and it was hard to find motivation and time to write. I’m not 100% happy with this but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Like/reblog if you liked reading this and want to see more from me!

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1810+

Warnings: none that I can think of

The harsh noon sunlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains, burning against Y/N’s eyelids and disturbing her sleep. She stirred awake, blinking a few times to clear her sleep-fogged vision, while the headache from last night returned, only this time it was magnified and coupled with a runny nose and a sore throat. Touching a hand to her forehead, her suspicions were confirmed – she was running a fever as well. There was no air conditioning in her room, one of many testaments as to why the rent was so cheap, and it was far too hot to go back to sleep. Flinging the covers off of her, she slowly and reluctantly rolled out of bed, and reached for her phone on the nightstand. Crap, it’s almost 12.30, she thought as she noted the time on the screen, but she definitely didn’t have the energy to care too much. Besides, it was a Saturday, so at least she didn’t have to go to work. Rummaging through the drawer below, she discovered that she was clean out of Advil. Perfect.

She shuffled into the living room in her pyjamas, immediately slumping onto the couch. It was extremely old and had come with the apartment, but its age had made it soft and comfortable. After fumbling around between the cushions for the TV remote, she switched it on and found a channel playing a Harry Potter marathon. The pain in her head was as though someone was repeatedly banging her head against the wall, not to mention the constant sniffling and the feeling of having blades in her throat every time she swallowed. Well, if I have to die today, at least I’ll get to see Malfoy get punched in the face one last time, she thought, laughing to herself. Taking a proper look at her phone for the first time, she saw 3 missed calls and a few texts from Elijah and remembered that she was supposed to be at the compound right now, spending time with him like they had planned. Obviously, that wasn’t going to work out now. She started dialing his number to explain her absence, when she heard the slow click of the front door opening. Instinctively, she grabbed the first thing she saw as a weapon and shrunk into the couch in an attempt to hide – she wasn’t an expert with hand-to-hand combat and rushing in guns ablaze would certainly result in injury. However, a more than familiar voice called out her name. “Y/N?”

“Elijah?” she exclaimed, sitting up to look at him properly. His face, clouded by worry, did a double take when he saw her. “Might I ask why you were crouched on the sofa holding a candlestick?” he asked, utterly bewildered. “Well, I thought you were an intruder! You didn’t exactly make yourself known”, she grumbled, still disoriented by his sudden appearance at her place. Elijah tried and failed to stifle a laugh. “You thought a candlestick would be your best weapon against an intruder?” She shot him a dirty look. “Don’t snark me. I’m too sick to snark you back”, she sighed, laying her head back. In a second, he was beside her, taking in her haggard appearance – reddened nose and tired, glassy eyes. “Baby, you look exhausted”, he murmured while cupping her face gently, the concern obvious in his voice. Y/N melted against his touch; his silky voice so soothing that she could have sworn the headache faded for a moment. She then spotted the large plastic bags at his feet. “What’s in the bags?” she questioned, gesturing at them.

“Well, it’s all for you”, he replied, pulling them up to show her. “I wasn’t sure what medicines you had lying around so I bought a bit of everything: NyQuil, cough drops, ibuprofen for the headache. And I took the liberty of buying some groceries. You’re sick, and I’m going to take care of you”, he declared almost smugly. She was beyond confused now. “How could you even know I was sick? I literally woke up fifteen minutes ago, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet,” she admitted, immediately regretting her outburst of truth. His expression remained amused as he replied, “You were supposed to meet me two hours ago, but you never showed, so naturally, I was a little worried. I came here and compelled your landlord to let me in. You were fast asleep, of course, but when I saw that you had a fever, I thought I would stay here to look after you till you got better.” His voice softened towards the end of his sentence.

“You know, some people would find that creepy. I, for one, find it extremely normal”, she mused sarcastically, to which he simply rolled his eyes before giving her a playful kiss on the nose. “Oh God,” she groaned, covering her face with a couch cushion, “It is too early on in our relationship for you to see me looking this gross”, she said, her already nasal voice muffled through the thick layers of fabric. He burst out laughing, and gently removed the cushion from her face. “My love, I’ve been alive for over a millennium. Nothing that I see today could be ‘gross’ to me. Now”, he said, pulling back her hair and securing it in a ponytail with the scrunchie that was on her arm, “why don’t you go and brush your teeth while I make you something to eat?”

The way that the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her was so adorable, she couldn’t help but smile back. Elijah had always been kind to her, even before they started dating, but ever since they did he had been nothing short of perfect – sweet and caring, and unfailingly loyal, always willing to go above and beyond to make her happy although his mere presence was enough. That’s just the kind of person he was. “Alright”, she replied, forcing herself up and trudging her way to the bathroom to freshen up.

Elijah heard her leaving the bathroom, the soles of her fuzzy slippers shuffling against the wooden floorboards. She pulled her fluffy robe tighter around her body to help with the chills, while a familiar, comforting smell drifted through the air. Although she was hungry, Y/N headed straight for the bag of medicines on the counter to find the Advil – her head was still throbbing, and she desperately needed some relief. It wasn’t easy to find, given that he had evidently bought the entire pharmacy and fit it all in one bag. After finally finding it, she noticed that Elijah had already put out a glass of water for her and glanced at him in silent appreciation. Clearly, his thoughtfulness knew no bounds. Looking around the tiny kitchen, she saw a large pot on the stove that he stirred from time to time. After gulping down a pill with a swig of water, she plodded back to the sofa and sat lengthways, taking up more than half the space to get comfortable while waiting for the painkiller to take effect. “So, what’s on the menu today, Chef Elijah?” she teased.

He scoffed humorously, “Making packeted soup hardly makes me a chef, Y/N. But, when you are feeling well again, I will gladly demonstrate my skills in the kitchen.” She watched him work over the back of the couch, appreciating the view of his arms in rolled up sleeves. “Can we get ice cream later?” she piped up hopefully, a sudden hankering for it coming over her. He looked at her sternly. “Ice cream will only aggravate your symptoms”, he said firmly. “Perhaps later.” She pouted at him and turned away in a huff as he gave the pot a final stir before switching off the gas. “The soup is now done”, he announced, already ladling some into a bowl and bringing it to her. She took it gratefully – the last meal she had had was yesterday’s dinner, and that was many hours ago. The first spoonful felt like heaven: rich, savory, and hot, it numbed the pain in her throat, at least temporarily.

For a while, they quietly sat in front of the TV while she ate, watching the movie, his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders. Setting the empty bowl aside when she was done, she blew her nose unceremoniously into a tissue. “Sorry", she muttered with a grimace, her physical discomfort far overshadowing the desire for self-preservation. “There’s nothing to be sorry about”, he said, gently stroking her hair, “but clearly it’s time for more medicine.” He stood up and was back in less than a second with all the medicines he had bought and a large glass of water. He examined all the boxes closely, making sure to read all the fine print, deciding which ones to administer. Even in her poorly state, she couldn't help the amused giggle escaping her lips as she watched him hunched over, reading intently.

“Something amusing?” he asked dryly, not looking away from the bottle of cough syrup in his hands. She shook her head silently, trying to suppress her laughter which immediately faded when she saw the assortment of capsules and pills that he handed her. Examining and identifying them herself, she decided that they would all help her symptoms. So even though it was the last thing she felt like doing, she swallowed all of them, finishing off the glass of water. “More water?” he asked. She shook her head, starting to cough in short painful bursts. He tried rubbing her back gently, which only helped a little. “My throat hurts really bad, Elijah.” Grateful that he had read a few articles online about food for flu patients while at the pharmacy, he rushed to the fridge and back, holding out a yogurt.

She looked at the carton with a quizzically raised brow. “It’s supposed to soothe the throat”, Elijah explained. “It’s cold so it will calm your throat, and healthy for you. Full of good bacteria.” He stared expectantly, waiting for her to eat it. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have just had ice cream”, she complained, digging her spoon into the plastic cup with contempt before eating it. He was right though; it did calm her throat down. Laughing gently, he pulled himself closer to her, wrapping his arm around her a little tighter. She relaxed against him, leaning her head and shoulders on his chest. “Thank you”, she said, her voice coming out smaller than she had intended. “For taking care of me.” Y/N felt him smile above her. “Well, I had to. I’m kind of in love with you”, he said, his feigned nonchalance making her giggle while she pulled away to look up at him.

“I’m kind of in love with you too.”

#elijah mikaelson #elijah x reader #elijah imagines #elijah one shots #the originals #the originals fanfiction #i swear im going to write for more characters also can you tell i hate titling fics #it literally makes me scream

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Monkie Kid Headcanons Part 2: Red Son and Demon Bull Family Backstory

Follow up to this post, with a lot more heavy thinking needed this time. Since these characters technically had backstories in Journey to the West, I wanted to really think over how to work those into what we have in the show (even though it kinda doesn’t 100% work and is really messy if you overthink it since the show throws some stuff to the wayside). This took me multiple days to work out so I hope it at least makes sense.

Warning: This one actually gets very VERY dark with emotional and psychological abuse detailed in the later half, so I am putting all of these under a read more. Seriously. I want you to be aware of this before you click that button. Do not ignore this warning please.

I PROMISE that part 3 will be a lot less heavy. I just wanted to get this out so I could finally move on from it.

First, gonna preface this with the fact we all know Monkie Kid is not 100% accurate to Journey to the West. Characters that are supposed to be dead are alive after all, and Red Son’s existence in the show itself in particular kinda makes no sense when I overthink about him. Red Boy is evil in his first appearance, but comes back redeemed way later in the novel (and with his name changed to that of an actual deity who had already existed outside of JTTW with a completely different backstory).

In reality, JTTW is fiction based on historical events and Monkie Kid is made to be a kid’s show and was never going to be accurate to the novel. Not even adaptations of JTTW are. So basically, I headcanon this: in the show, JTTW the novel exists as a highly accurate and very important piece of historical novelization (a non-fiction novel). But like most examples of real non-fiction novels (like Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood), it is not entirely accurate and there are bits and pieces that do not line up. It is, however, incredibly close to 98% accuracy and anyone in it who reads it is impressed.

That being said, Red Son did study with Guanyin for quite a few years (though he was not entirely redeemed like his book counterpart, he was getting there). He actually did learn a lot and was pretty darn happy to be under her teaching at the time. Mostly because he didn’t know what was going on outside...

Unfortunately, later portions of JTTW confirm that Red Son being taken... completely ruined Monkey King and Demon Bull King’s friendly relationship. So that, combined with other events in the Fiery Mountains, it is incredibly likely that is why DBK was so bent on ruling and taking out Wukong for good. He wanted revenge for a lot of stuff Monkey King did.

Before we get into the depressing stuff, I personally headcanon that DBK was actually just. Dead. Completely dead. That is why he went from being covered in floof to being big buff body builder man. Hair does not grow back when you are dead. Removing the staff completely revived him. I needed a silly weird headcanon in here ok?

Since Princess Iron Fan calls him her husband, not her ex-husband as he had divorced her to be with Princess Jade Face in JTTW, I think they either reconciled at some point or PJF... didn’t exist? Since LMK is a kid’s show the later is more likely... but this is my headcanon. Given her personality in the show and book I think it is possible that they mutually divorced due to losing Red Son, DBK remarried, then realized he still loved PIF and wanted to go back to her and she took him back.

We don’t actually know much about PJF so... uh... I like to think she was shockingly chill about it and is just living comfortably somewhere else now. And never wants to see Monkey King again. I hope she is living her best fox spirit life.

Also unfortunately, DBK did not stand a chance and when he was sealed it took a major toll on PIF. She was left alone, her renewed husband either trapped or dead under a mountain and her son kinda sorta still arrested by a deity. This made her more distant to everyone and a lot more cold.

When news of what happened to his father reached Red Son, he pleaded with Guanyin to be allowed to leave her teaching to stay with his mother. He knew what isolation felt like and did not wish for her to feel the same any longer. Guanyin trusted her disciple and allowed him to return to his mother permanently, if he desired. Alone.

This was a mistake. Oh boy was this a mistake. Heaven should have either sent someone else completely or had someone accompany Red Son to PIF to help her because this one decision is why everything in show happens.

At first things go pretty well. PIF is definitely in need of support, but she is ecstatic to see her son again. And that lasts. For a while. Until she starts to project onto Red. She starts to blame him for being captured, for not being strong enough to take out Wukong when he had the True Samadhi Fire, for not being there to keep DBK from leaving her, for not being there to help his father fight Wukong a second time. Everything is Red Son’s fault now.

This simmers for a while before it starts to come forth to the surface. She starts being colder and more distant and giving Red little jabs in their conversations. She says them so sweetly it always takes Red a second to register what she says.

“Oh Red Son, if only your father were here to see this. Too bad you weren’t there to save him.” “I love you my son, even if you can be useless at times.” “Princess Jade Face would have loved you I bet, but you were far too busy with the celestials to visit. I understand.”

This starts to wear Red down after a while, until he starts to believe his mother. He WASN’T there when he father was defeated, he COULD have taken care of Wukong, he WAS the reason his father left his mother. She was as warm and loving to him as she was when he was a small child when he came back but now? Now she’s as cold to him as anyone else.

She is never outright physically abusive, that is below her in her mind. But other things? Like not having his meals prepared along side hers? Insulting him as casually as saying the sky is blue? Pointing out every mistake he makes when writing or working on a project? Taking his things and “losing” them, only to “find” them days later in a place she told him to look and telling him he needs to be more careful? “Mistakenly” locking Red Son in his room and ignoring his yells and pleas to be let out? Those are on the table.

And this is when he becomes obsessed with getting back in her good graces and starts to push aside his teachings from Guanyin. He just wants his mother back.

His mother does not come back... but his old self does.

Guanyin does not learn of this until long after it is impossible to convince Red Son to leave his mother. She has the kneejerk reaction to just take him back by force but... for some reason she does not. She lets him stay. Perhaps she does not want to make the wrong decision again. Perhaps she feels she taught him everything she could. No one really knows. She does not discuss this.

After a while PIF does lessen her emotional and psychological abuse, once she is certain Red Son will never leave her. She even starts to treat him nicely, like her son who she always loved, like a mother again, even praises and defends him from others again (and Red Son eats it up because this is exactly what he wanted and just fuels his determination to prove himself and stay in her good graces). And at the time the show begins she has come to terms with the fact Red Son was not, in fact, at fault for anything and even regrets this portion of her life.

Make no mistake, however, her treating him less bad, even well at times, now does NOT in any way absolve her of how she treated him in the past. She is still abusive and she has done nothing that could truly set anything right. She still calls him things like “her sweet useless boy” and pulls shit like the racing episode. It’s not really any better. It’s just not actively as bad as it used to be at the moment.

DBK in show did not notice how PIF had changed because in the pilot he was too distracted with being revived and as the show went on he was too distracted with the power of the White Bone Spirit calling to him.

Upon a rewatch he actually seems to be under WBS’s thrall multiple times before episode 10, such as the racing episode where we can clearly see his eyes glowing with possession blue, and I think this affected his personality a bit. Not much, I think he was still neglectful and cold to Red Son from the get go, but WBS probably exacerbated the worst parts of his personality long before taking over completely.

But I think he sure does notice NOW that the thrall no longer has him. Whether or not he does anything about this is up in the air, however. It is entirely possible he falls fully into neglect and does nothing to stop anything.

Red Son knows, very deep down, that his father is neglectful and his mother is abusive. He knows. He just won’t admit that not even demons are like this to their children. Won’t admit that he doesn’t deserve it, that he never deserved it. Because he loved his mother deeply before he left. He loved her when she convinced him he did. And he still loves her, and his father. He’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to give up on that.

It is going to take a LOT for someone to show him that he deserves better. But having his father back has not been everything he had hoped it would be and now... now it may be possible for someone to reach him. At least convince him that SOMETHING needs to change.

#I am warning you now #if you read tags before clicking read more #there is a lot of depressing shit and angst in here #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #red son #demon bull king #dbk #princess iron fan #pif #white bone spirit #wbs #headcanons #seriously #everything from 10 down is heavy #DBK and PIF are bad parents #that is going to be a recurring tag on this blog #get this family into therapy they need it #I'm going to be transparent here in the tags #i don't write this kind of stuff without either a lot of time and research #or personal experience #in this case it is both #I am basing how red son feels on how I used to feel in my own family relationship #I actually use my personal experiences #good and bad #for a lot of my writing #so I know exactly how messed up this dynamic is and that he needs outside help #i also know that if he does get outside help? He'll be ok #I promise he at least ends up ok in rainy talks #queued

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hypo-critic-al · 3 years

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Korean Frankenstein musical: every subtitled song I could find

Because not many English-speaking people share my madness, my obsession for countless days whose name is Frankenstein musical or 프랑켄슈타인 뮤지컬 to be correct, I have decided to make yet another post about this Frankenstein adaptation.

After my boring and long review from last week, I said to myself: what if I try to find more subtitled songs from this? There isn’t much musical content apart from press conference recordings (and I can’t find bootlegs either) and even though not many people know about this show, there are some subbed vids! So thank you, sweet people from the internet, for putting subtitles on these clips, I can at least understand what’s going on in them.

(For further context of these songs, plot or whatever else go read my older post, I don’t know how to put a link of post here, I posted it not so long ago :) )

The Only Future

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Victor tries to convince Henry to make a better race of humans with him, Henry doesn’t want to play God at first, later agrees. And an epic singing happens.

This song is very good. I seriously want their voices, acting skills and everything. And Victor’s statement about God is interesting. I mean, from a theological POV you are not correct, but you got the spirit. It’s a great song, Henry/Victor song, epic start to this play, what else do we need.

In Your Dream

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I’m not gonna lie. I cry everytime.

This is a song from almost end of Act 1, however, I find it the most emotional in a terms of love from the whole play. Henry loves Victor so much that he sacrifices himself, falsely confesses of a murder that was a Victor’s crime, and dies so Victor can live and continue his experiment. They two are as close as they can be, yet Vic is dumb and Henry voluntarily takes the blame.

And the later part of this song is a heaven. Just listen to this song, even if you don’t care and just pass by, go watch it.

The Great History of The Creation of Life Begins

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First of all, the title lenght. Second of all, this is as good as Birth to my Creation. But more twisted and Victor wants to fist-fight with the God. And "God bless me or rather hurl down your curse," sentence is so good.

For a bit of context, Victor reanimates the creature and uses Henry’s head to finish the creature. The thing Víc is holding in the beginning is Henry’s head. He just sews it to a rest of a body. Are you sane Victor? I knew you are capable of a lot of dumb stuff, but now you crossed a line...

The previous three songs + Monologue + Troubled Friend

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There are previous three songs in this video plus another two. I just had to put those three songs before, because they have better translation and that previous version of In Your Dream is my favourite.

So we get a Monologue. It’s fine, it’s a love ballad, something like a Once Upon a Dream from J&H musical, however, they went Frankenstein: a new musical road, so it’s a Victor’s cousin singing a lovesong about him :-| ...

But Troubled Friend, DEAR MY! It’s like the tavern scene from the Frankenstein ballet but this time Victor and Henry are taking all the spotlight, and are the stars of that evening. Seriously, I didn’t know and I didn’t even think that Henry and Victor have THAT level dance moves. They are drunk, but hey! Go listen to it, they make me happy, Victor and Henry are happy.

But somebody tell Henry he shouldn’t joke about death like that. Little does he know, he will die in like next two songs.

The World of Men

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Second Act starts and things start to go very far from the original source material. The Creature escapes Vic (who wants to kill him, btw) and finds himself lost. His strenght is noticed by an Eva, owner of a fighting arena and Creature voluntarily/involuntarily ends up as one of the gladiators.

I thought only Linda Eder can sing "bad wh*re" songs the best, this singer is very good too, I want her talent, I am jealous.

You Are a Monster

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I don’t know if to like Jacques or utterly despise him.

Jacques, a husband of Eva, makes a deal with one of arena investors: if the Creature wins a fight against the investor’s fighter, the investor will forget their debt. And Jacques does not prepare the Creature, or does nothing, he simply slaps Creature and hits him with his cane a several times while making fun of him. That’s not how encouragement works...

In case you don’t know, this musical has double-roles. There are 22 characters in this musical and they are played by only 11 actors. The actors of characters from the first act are now another ones with a nice sybolics. The characters who abuse the Creature are later the characters whom Creature kills. Henry’s actor plays Creature, Victor’s one plays Jacques and later he plays Victor again, and so on. And I love double-cated musicals, look a Hamilton for example.

But the way Jacques says: "Victor Frankenstein’s experiment log," is so funny to me for some reason.

—————

That was all from subtitled songs, I shall continue more about other things.

Another thing I learned, is that this musical is the most popular original Korean musical (so like an original thing, no Broadway production, no West-End, no Wildhorn) and it had very good revenue as well (and although the first production premiered in like 2013 it has it’s fandom to this day), but the most shocking thing for me is that they are planning to go on a Broadway with it!

However, I feel like this performance won’t appeal to western audiences as much as to Korean one. I have a bad gut feeling, that this will either be a total disaster (monsters tend to not do very well on Broadway, see Dracula, Lestat, or even Frankenstein: a new musical) or it will pleasantly surprise us. Either way, I hope they won’t change the story and songs too much because this musical has it’s original charm like no other musical produced in West. It sounds more magical, emotional, foreign-like. I hope it will have it’s essense even on Broadway.

See, even though I sometimes feel like this musical was made by a Wildhorn fan who wanted to do their own Jekyll & Hyde musical but with Frankenstein, it’s kinda a good thing. If we forget Wildhorn-ish love ballads and Wildhorn J&H tropes here and there, we get a brilliant play with a great soundtrack. I mean, The Great History of a Creation of Life Begins, In your dream, I’m a Monster are so good! The chills every time...

I felt inspired by @dragonheadskilax ’es post about obscure Frankenstein adaptations and decided to make a post about another one myself. His posts about those adaptations made me curious, and I searched on my own as well. Which resulted in finding of this musical. So thank you if you are reading this :)

Okay, I think this post is way too long. If you want to know more about this musical, I made it’s small review with a plot summary before, you can check it out on my blog.

That’s all about this musical for today. See you :)

#frankenstein #frankenstein adaptation #frankenstein musical #victor frankenstein #henry clerval #i know they changed his surname in this musical but let’s pretend his name is clerval #musical #musical theatre #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #the modern prometheus #frankenstein’s monster #frankenstein’s creature

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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perfidy;tom holland|2

chapter 2: the movie scene

enemies to lovers au

story summary: Tom and you have been sworn enemies since you were young. However, you happened to be best friends with the twins. When one of your friends challenged you to break Tom’s heart, you immediately accepted to get back at him for all the times he’s hurt you. Old feelings might come back, while both of you try to go past your pride and your lies.

chapter summary: the first time you kissed and the last time he offered to kiss

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, flashback in italics, mentions of sex, fluffy-ish?, throwing up

word count: 5.5k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

We never really want to give in to feelings when we are well aware they’re not reciprocated. It is dumb, and it makes us shy, and very very insecure. We all fear rejection coming our way, and rejection hurts our pride. It was a good thing that your feelings were only hatred. They were very much reciprocated.

Though people liked to point it out to you very often, and not so kindly. From hate to love there’s only one step.

You never really believed in that, but you knew that at least in your case, hate didn’t mean the absence of love. It never is, if we are honest.

But really, if you were honest to yourself, you did love Tom. In your own way, but you didn’t like him. Or stand him. Because everything he did annoyed you. And people loved to point out your certain reactions to whatever he did.

Sure, your cheeks got red, and you were flustered, but that was only the visible reactions to the headaches you’d get whenever he was around. Because he would always find his way to make you feel your worse, or prank you or ruin your big chances. Actions get reactions.

You were tired of him and you didn’t trust him, but you knew that if you ever needed help, and there was no one else who could help you, you could call him up. Yes, you loved him, in his own pathetic way, you'd grown up together, after all, and you knew every single detail about the other, which made things worse.

You grew behind his shade, and for a time, it didn’t matter but when he pointed it out, it did get on your nerves. Especially because he had been the one to get you to notice all your flaws.

And even if right now the feelings were mutual, you turned back to time when they weren’t. The first time he broke your heart, he had you wondering, all night long. An 8 year old already staring into the mirror and wondering what she had done wrong, wondering if she wasn’t pretty enough, had it been her hair? Was she just plain annoying? or if her voice wasn’t good enough or was it her personality?

Because you saw that he was always the one who everybody loved, so he had to know something about it. If he didn’t love you, or like you in that matter, he had to have a saying on it. Bullshit, he knew nothing.

You grew up, and now you knew it wasn’t your fault he didn’t like you. He was the one missing it.

However, you hated that he was always on the spotlight, and he’d be a big spoiled brat about it. Tom this, Tom that. It infuriated you that everything had to revolve around him, of course Mr. Big Shot was the star, and he had to brag about it. Especially around you. Your mother and big brother said it was only to get your attention.

“Please,” your brother James would say. “All straight men do is to be stupid enough around women so they’ll think, hey that’s incredible?”

Your brother’s theory relied on the fact that men are only stupid because they want women’s attention You know how straight men like to cannon ball at the pool parties? Yes, that’s because of you. You know how men like to shake beers and then down them as fast as they can? Yeah, that’s because of you.

You had a simpler theory, men are stupid by nature. Especially Tom, he was very stupid.

However, thanks to his constant seeking of attention, and the combination of his lack of intelligence, he’d often find himself acting pretty stupid around you. Thing which you absolutely loved. It gave you reasons to make fun of him.

Still, that loathing was deep inside you, and you knew that at any point, he could make you turn around and stab you right on your chest, never backstabbing, Tom wanted to make you well aware he was hurting you. You couldn’t trust him, because he made it very clear that he wasn’t your friend. He was a childhood close acquaintance.

Enemies. That’s it, that was the word. No need to sugar coat it. You had your history, and even though you could say that sometimes, like in that particular moment, you doubted your loathing was reciprocated, you knew he’d come back again with yet another way to prove to you he was a complete asshole.

So when you arrived at the building, and he got out of the car as well, you knew something was up.

“You don’t have to stay,” you reminded him. “I’ll take an Uber back home.”

“My mum invited you to lunch, and asked me to personally drive you, don’t read much into it,” Tom snapped.

“Oh, they’re still trying,” you rolled your eyes.

Tom chuckled. “Yeah, they believe we might get along if we keep having lunch together.”

“Why are we having lunch, though? Is there any special occasion?”

“Your interview,” Tom explained.

He followed after you into the building. You sceptically watched him.

“Well, but don’t you have better things to do?” You asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I’d rather be here to help you, maybe I’ll even give you a pep talk.”

You clenched your jaw. “This is a big day for me, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m genuinely not trying to,” he chuckled. “I just happen to be very good at annoying you, sorry babe.”

“There’s a cafetería—“

“I know this place, sweetheart, remember I’m actually relevant in the film world.” He pushed you and walked past you.

“You know for being so relevant you’d think you’d be smarter. The cafeteria is upstairs, dickhead.”

He made his way into the elevator with you and watched you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess,” you admitted.

“Hey, um… I know it’s not the time but I really am sorry for last week,” he pushed.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Tom.”

“I didn’t know that you had-”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” you repeated. You were barely recovering from it. And it hadn’t really been his fault. Except that he had so nicely done something you hadn’t quite loved.

You had just gone through a breakup about a month ago. Timmy. He had turned from being your everything to someone you’d rather forget now. A two-year relationship had just banished in front of you.

You wouldn’t have guessed he’d bring up Timmy over to you at Harry’s and Sam’s birthday dinner. You knew Timmy would be there, he was friends with most people there but having the audacity to walk in with another girl to your best friends party? Seemed sketchy.

You knew Tom didn’t know about the breakup, the last thing he had known was you guys were having problems.

“Oi, y/n look over there, that’s your boy, ain’t he? Why isn’t he here making out with you? Did he get tired of you?” Tom laughed as he walked over to you. “Wait, is he with another girl? Ooof, guess you guys are going to have another fight tonight, right?” He commented as you were just silently looking away. “Y/N, c’mon, that’s probably a friend, chill, hey, Timmo!” And he called out to him.

“Tom, please…”

“No, no, it’s alright, I’m saving you from having a fight, better have him around here! Timmy” He called out again.

And he had turned around and awkwardly waved.

“C’mon over, pretty boy,” Tom continued. “Don’t leave me with y/n.”

“Tom, don’t,” Harry Approached and warned him as he had noticed what Tom was doing.

Timmy never liked Tom. He said that Tom was unnecessarily rude to you, and he was right. Also, Timmy was one of those people who believed in the whole ‘from hate to love’ bullshit. He was sure that Tom and you would leave each other hot and bothered and that your hatred was only an excuse to hide away the real feelings towards each other. Timmy was often jealous of your relationship with any of the Hollands. ‘Tom is a big star, you could easily fall for him’.

Tim walked over anyway.

“Uh, hey guys,” he said awkwardly. “Hi, y/n.”

“Oi, what were you doing over there with a girl who’s not y/n?” Tom pushed. “That ain’t right mate,” Tom sounded drunk.

“Tom can you please stop?” Harry asked.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Timmy said awkwardly. He looked over at you. “Hi.”

“What happened between you both? Did you finally break up? Wouldn’t blame you Timmy, I don’t really get why you’re dating y/n, for that matter, don’t you get tired of it?” Tom pushed.

“We’re actually on a break right now,” Timmy cleared up, angrily.

Tom’s eyes widened with shock. You didn’t want to explain anything, so you walked away.

The elevator door opened and suddenly a black-haired, blue-eyed and around your age, gorgeous man had walked in. You knew about him, he worked on another show, he was also a writer, a full time one. But you knew that he was probably only there so he could be cast, and you really wondered why they hadn’t yet. Someone as gorgeous as him needed to be on all the screens.

Yes, Joseph Holt. Of course, you knew about him, someone as perfect as him couldn’t go unnoticed. His charming smile and personality was only too much to ask for.

He grinned at you.

“Morning,” Joseph smiled and then proceeded to stare at Tom.

“Morning,” you greeted him.

He took two seconds to look at your outfit. It was neat, nice, professional, and probably better as to how he probably saw you, with bags around your eyes and multiple Starbucks cups on your hands.

“You’re y/n, right? I’ve seen you working at ‘Crooked Manners’,” he pointed out.

“Yes, and you’re Joseph, right?” You grinned. “You work at ‘A little bit of Heaven’ right? With Cassey?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” he grinned and then gave a second glance to Tom. “You can call me Joe, though.”

Tom chuckled.

Joseph, Joe, turned around to see Tom. “I’m sorry, is there anything funny?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tom grinned.

“So, you’re a writer, too?” Joe asked you.

“I am,” you closed your eyes. “Well, an assistant right now.”

Tom cleared his throat. You glared at him.

“Yes?” Joe asked.

“I’m just… I’m Tom.”

“Oh, so I did see right.” Joe nodded.

“Yeah, I’m Holland, Tom Holland,” he sassed.

“Calm down, 007,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I happen to be y/n’s boyfriend, very nice to meet you,” Tom grinned as he offered a hand to Joe.

Joe widened his eyes as he shook it. “Oh.”

“What?” You turned to Tom and nudged him. “No, no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah, alright, sorry, friendship with benefits, I’m sorry darling, I thought we’d agreed on not calling it that anymore,” Tom smirked and placed his hand on your waist. Confused and angry, you pushed him off of you.

“He’s… not, no, no, nothing of that, he’s just… I know him alright?” You tried to clear up, and Joe chuckled, as confused as you were.

“That’s… alright. Do you think I could get your number?” Joe asked as he handed you his phone. “Just so.. You know we could help each other with any writing?”

“Yeah yeah, for sure, and just to clear it out, he’s not my boyfriend or anything, alright?” You cleared out as you typed in your number.

The elevator door opened up again.

“It’s fine, I’ll catch with you later, Y/N,” Joe grinned. “And um, nice meeting you, Tom.” He said as the elevator closed.

“What the fuck was that?” You turned to Tom and slapped his elbow . “What is wrong with you?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, “I’m helping you get laid,” Tom laughed.

“You… you fucking are what now?”

“I just made you at least 45% more appealing to that guy,” Tom laughed. “Please, he wouldn’t turn your way unless he knows that someone like me slept with you.”

“You’re a dickhead,” you stated.

“You know I’m right, and by your attitude lately I can actually assure you, you haven’t got any in awhile,” he noted. “I’m just trying to help you get someone to...how did he call it? write with.”

“I can handle that myself,” you snapped. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Hm but it could be,” He smirked.

“Besides I don’t want him thinking I’d got any weird fungus down there from sleeping with you.”

Tom cackled, rolling his eyes. “You wish you had them.”

“So you admit you’ve got them?” You asked with a smirk as the door finally opened.

“I don’t--”

You got to your floor where your friends were waiting for you and were rather surprised when they saw who was behind you.

“Y/N!” Charlie called as he waved at you. He smirked. “Girl”

You stopped abruptly and turned to Tom. “The coffee is over there, I’m sure you can find your way around here, just follow the signs.”

“Ah, don’t you want me around your friends?”

“Now why would I want such a tragedy?”

He scoffed. “Fine, break a leg.”

You smiled. “Thanks, even though it’s not theatre.”

“I’m well aware of that,” he smirked and then turned around off to the cafeteria.

You made your way to your friends, also interns at the studio. Charles, who would often say his name was too absurd and proper for his personality was smirking at you proudly, while Danielle, your clumsy and rather quiet friend was rather interested in seeing Tom.

Charlie smirked and hummed. “I see, I see, strutting around with a little help, hmm classy girl, show off you’ve got pulls.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Why didn’t he come and say hello?” Danielle asked with hope.

“He drove me here, and I don’t want you guys to deal with his bullshit,” you explained.

“Hmh,” Charlie stared at Tom. “Hmhm hun, I know you hate him, but homeboy is looking fine this morning.”

You raised a brow and turned around to look at him. “He’s wearing a black t-shirt,” you raised a brow. “What’s the hype about it?”

“Hm, I’m just saying I’d love to take it off,” Charlie sassed.

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your friends. “I really don’t see why you find him attractive, all his looks are erased by his personality.”

“So you do admit he’s got looks,” Charlie smirked. “I’m telling you girl, you secretly got the hots for him, and boy, I ain’t gonna blame you.”

Danielle grinned but then instantly blushed as she saw who was walking behind you.

“I forgot to ask,” Tom said, making you jump. He chuckled.

“What?” You frowned.

“I was going to ask if you wanted me to buy you anything, and I forgot I had brought you this,” Tom offered you a Lion Candy Bar. You raised your brows. “ But if you don’t want anything else… Or maybe your friends….”

“Hi!” Danielle grinned.

Joey grinned. “Hello.”

“We’re fine,” you said before your friends could keep on talking as you looked down at the chocolate “You’re being nice, what’s up?”

He grinned. “I know it’s a big day for you, I ain’t trying to mess it up and I know for a fact those are your favourites.”

“Or maybe you are, trying to freak me out by being nice,” you shrugged. “I know your games, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Look, I just really want you to do well.”

“Thanks, now I’ll do better if you’re not around, you get me on my nerves” you pushed. “Bye.”

“I’m serious y/n, I know they’ll love you and your color-coded notes,” he chuckled. “Plus you’ve got good orthography.”

“Ah, sure that’s what they're looking for in a writer,” you laughed. “Now, please, Tom, I need to check important stuff.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” Tom grinned. “But you should loosen up a little, unless all writers look like constipated bitches.”

“Ah, original, a constipation insult, I see, you’ve learned no other insult in these last years, good to know I have to speak to you as if you were a thirteen year old boy.”

He clenched his jaw and watched you, as if he had just been challenged. “That's no way of talking to your boyfriend, darling.” Tom had placed his hands on your waist as you took them off, calmed but stiff.

“Leave,” you ordered him again.

He smirked as he stepped in closer. “How about a good luck kiss?”

You crossed your arms, and watched him judging. “Leave, Tom.”

“Such a shame, we don’t kiss that often anymore,” Tom laughed.

“We’ve never kissed,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got proof we have,” he snickered and then proceeded to walk off. “Good luck, babe.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate him.”

Charlie smirked. “You’ve kissed.”

“That’s absolutely none of your business,” you said. “Now can we please focus on…. I have an interview in an hour.”

“Darling, you’ve got some explaining to do first,” Charlie laughed. “Boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you headed to the small cubicle the three of you shared.

“We bumped into Joe Holt,” you explained. “And Tom said we were a couple in front of him saying that if Joe believed that Tom was dating or sleeping with me it would make me 45% more attractive.”

Danielle grinned. “Joe Holt and Tom Holland?”

“Oh god, Danielle, get a grip,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, and did Mr. Holt talk to you?” Charlie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Asked me for my number and everything,” you said proudly. “Which… Oh god. I mean it could mean nothing but…”

“Girl, you’re on fire,” Charlie chuckled. “Though he’s just another white boy.”

You laughed. “He’s still attractive.”

“But are you ready to date?” Danielle asked.

“Oh my god, Dan, he asked her for her number, not to suck his dick,” Charlie implied, making both you and Danielle giggle awkwardly.

“But she knows what I mean!” Danielle laughed. “Just a week ago we had her crying and listening to Taylor Songs.”

“Yeah, and weren’t you seeing Timmy tomorrow?” Asked Charlie condescendingly.

“Look, I’m…I’m ready to move on, you know?” You admitted. “We talked about a break that would last for a month and we’ll see how that goes, alright?”

“I’m not trying to steal your thunder but I myself got a date tonight, so, I’m just gonna pop that in,” Charlie giggled.

“Nice,” you smirked.

“But alright, are you ready for the interview?” Dannielle asked.

Danielle, Charlie and you were kind of the golden trio of the interns, you’ve known them since college. Not a big friendship back then but when the three of you met here, a sort of friendship started.

“It’s not really an interview, you know that right?” Charlie said. “I mean, they’ll probs just tell you you’re already hired, although I heard a word that they’re working on a new series and they might get you there.”

“A new series?” You asked.

He chuckled. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the word says that they’re asking some interns to come up with a story and then...they might have their big breakout.”

“Hm,” you shrugged as you placed the chocolate on the table.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Questioned Danielle.

“Tom gave this to me,” you barked as if it was so obvious.

Charlie smirked as he side eyed Danielle. “When is all this going to end?”

“When is what going to end?” You frowned.

“Please,” Charlie grinned as he leaned over. “We both know you don’t hate him.”

“I do.”

“But you care for him,” Danielle pushed.

“Hatred isn’t the absence of love, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “Hatred means according to the dictionaries, intense dislike.”

“So you love him?” Danielle asked with confusion.

“Ugh, yes because they grew up together,” Charlie explained. “Gosh, Dan, do you never listen?”

“Look, I can’t stand him,” you explained. “I just really think he’s very annoying, and I’m right, he is annoying and he can’t stand me either. We’re good with that relationship.”

“Have you kissed though?”

You scofffed. “Look, maybe once when we were teens? And…” You took a deep breath. “It meant nothing, you know? It really does mean nothing, but he likes to point it out every now and then.”

“Why?”

“Look,” you closed your eyes and gulped. “He… he was kind of,” you sighed. “We were at a party”

“Oh, seven minutes in heaven?” Charlie took a sip of his coffee. “Damn.”

“Yes, but it was stupid, alright?” You rolled your eyes. “I was… 17 and I was sad because my crush was there with another girl and I wanted to make him feel jealous” You felt weird only speaking about it. “And I told him.”

“Did you ask him to kiss you?”

“Look, I was very stupid and I kind of used to have a on and off crush on him and he was already an actor” you blushed. “Look, I was very stupid I was kinda drunk, too.”

“You still kissed fucking Spiderman?” Danielle chirped.

“But it’s no big deal,” you sighed. “Now, we hate each other and haven’t kissed since, alright?”

Though, it wasn’t true. Not really. You did think of it as a deal, not a big one, but a deal. Because also, the second statement wasn’t true. Tom and you had kissed each other, three times. Only one had meant something, the first one. The other two you blamed on the heartbrakes and one on alcohol and stupidity, they didn’t mean anything. Besides, after those two, things really didn’t go well. Only the first time you ever kissed was important to you both.

But the first one, you remembered it perfectly. But it wasn’t the time to think of it, right now.

“You know I’ve got a theory,” Charlie grinned.

“Everyone does,” you rolled your eyes. “Now if you don’t mind I need to focus.”

It bothered you how every single person would try and chirp in your relationship with Tom. There was no deep meaning behind it, just two people who enjoyed annoying each other and who hated each other’s company. That was it. Even you could joke about it with Tom, just like the lunch you’d be having later, it probably being the latest attempt your mother and his had to make you guys get along. They’d make you sit down together and often leave you alone, which only ended up insulting or you guys completely ignoring each other. It was annoying.

“I have a theory,” Charlie sang anyway. “That if you guys slept with each other all of this would be gone, all your said hatred,” Charlie grinned.

“That ain’t true, and I’d never sleep with him.”

“I’m sure all of this is from the sexual tension you’ve developed all over the years,” Charlie continued.

“Sexual tension?” You laughed. “He literally called me a constipated bitch, you… you call that sexual tension?”

“Straight men are weird,” Charlie shrugged. “And please, I’ve seen how he acts around you, he’s just like a damn child all smittened with you.”

“Yes, he does check you out from time to time,” Danielle admitted.

“Only to see what he can point out and make a shitty comment from it,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, it’s not gonna happen.”

“I’m just saying that you’d get along if you were both sweating against each other, and grinding and-”

“Gross,” You interrupted him. “The only thing you’ve got right is he’s a child.”

“Besides, I can bet you that if you were to ask him to have sex with you, he’d say yes without thinking about it.”

“Why would I ask him that?” You scolded.

Danielle laughed. “Because you also secretly have a crush on him.”

You watched them with disbelief. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Look, maybe not from you but I can assure you that Tom desires you,” Charlie grinned.

“Oh god, guys this isn’t a Sandra Bullocks movie, just shut up.” You sat down and opened up your computer to try and focus on the interview you’d have.

“Didn’t Timmy say that?” Danielle asked.

“Oh, yes, that he was sure Tom did everything he did to impress you and take you away form him,” he laughed.

“If we’re honest, Timmy thought that of any man, even of you, Charles,” you mocked with a gentle giggle.

“Besides y/n you need a rebound,” Danielle insisted.

“Tom would be a hell of a rebound,” Charlie admitted. “Oof, I bet he’s great at the aftercare.”

“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “And I think that he’s not into weird things, you know?”

“Or like, good weird, you get what I’m saying?”

You watched them annoyed. “Oh my god, guys, you are taking as if that was actually going to happen,” you shook your head.

“Look, go ahead, ask him to have sex with you,” Charlie insisted as you watched him unbothered. “Please it’d take you less than ten minutes to get you to let you fuck him.”

“Oh, and they would like fall in love with each other,” Danielle said.

“What?” Charles laughed. “Girl, no I’m just trynna get her laid.”

“But wouldn’t it be romantic? A whole enemies to lovers story?” Danielle continued.

“Maybe he’d fall in love, not me,” you said. “I could easily make him fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch a feeling.”

“Oh, will you, now? Wanna bet?” Charlie grinned.

“I’m not having this conversation, I’d rather go back to him,” you admitted as you walked off with your computer back to where Tom was, so peacefully sitting down scrolling on his phone as he was biting on half a sandwich.

He looked up at you, and you were probably blushing. It felt weird walking back to a man whom your friends had just suggested you should sleep with.

“Hi, they’re bothering me, I can’t concentrate and I’m going to go through a breakdown if I don’t- I’m not gonna bother you alright, I just need to calm down before everything.” And you were being honest with him, and you knew he understood.

He was a jerk, but not that big of a jerk.

“Yeah, no, it’s alright, sit down,” he shrugged as he offered you a seat.

Somehow you felt calm, because he noticed you needed that.

You sat down and didn’t even look at him, although you were fighting the urge not to.But your mind was actually thinking of him, not of the past conversation, no but your first kiss together, your first kiss ever. One which wasn’t on camera.

And the time came, and you were at your interview trying your best to listen and answer perfectly, but your mind went back to that first kiss and your mind went back to the conversation you had with your friends.

But it came to the kiss, that kiss. One which you knew you shared a secret of. It had been all you could expect from a first kiss, sweet and clumsy and very quick, a small peck on the lips he’d given you. And although, it had been weird.

You remembered it, Tom had noticed you were down and not even coming up with comebacks. You were tired, your friend Fabiola, the only one of your friends who remained with virgin lips had given her first kiss, with that kid Aaron with the red backpack.

So you remained to be the only one of your friends without a first kiss. There you were, a pathetic kid who was too busy writing stories and filming videos with younger kids that you had forgotten to have a first kiss.

You were watching as Tom was playing video games and you hadn’t once asked for the controller. It was one of his free days he had from Billy Elliot, and you weren’t sure why he had invited you.

“Okay, what’s up?” Tom asked, pausing the game.

You didn’t even look at him.

“Y/N, why aren’t you playing?” He pushed

You looked down at your pink chipped nails. “Am I ugly?”

“Yes, next question.”

You sighed. “Tom, I’m serious.”

“I am, too, what’s the deal?” He frowned and then started the game again.

“All my friends have given their first kiss,” you bit your lip. “And I haven’t. Is it because I’m ugly?”

“Well, do you have anyone you could kiss?”

“Well, not really.” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Then you’re ugly and alone.”

You frowned. “Have you had your first kiss?”

“I’ve had girlfriends, y/n.”

“See? You’re ugly and you’ve had your first kiss, it must be something else.”

“Your personality is ugly, too,” he pointed out. “Seems like you’re not gonna have a first kiss, ever.”

“Well I must, someday, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged.

“Would I be that bad of an option for a kiss?” You asked sincerely.

He paused the game, and coughed. “I mean.”

You raised your brows. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Who was your first kiss? Angela?” You asked, knowing he had a crush on her. “Or another girlfriend?”

“I haven’t kissed anyone,” He admitted. “It’s… scary, you know?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know how to do it.” He blushed. “I...I get nervous just thinking about it.”

“Please, how difficult can it be? You just place your lips together,” you pointed out.

Tom frowned. “What do you know? You’ve never kissed anyone.”

“But I’ve seen movies,” you pointed out. “Look, let’s… watch a movie and maybe you can learn.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “I’m not watching a movie, y/n, I know how it’s supposed to go.”

“Then why haven’t you done it?”

He frowned. “I dunno.”

You both stayed on the couch with your arms crossed. It seemed like you both knew the answer to your problem but neither of you wanted to address it. You stayed quiet, for a long time, on the edges of the couch, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you think we should-?” Tom asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned.

“Would you?”

“I-No, no.”

“Well,” you gulped. “Or….? Would you kiss me?”

“No…” Tom paused. “Not here on the couch.”

You stayed quiet again.

“I mean,” Tom intruded. “We could go outside.”

“Outside?” You looked at him. “Really?”

“But it would mean nothing, right?” He coughed. “Just so we can say we’ve kissed someone.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

You both ran to the backyard where you were both sweating nervously. He watched you.

“We can’t tell anyone,” he said.

“No, no, we won’t,” you agreed, nodding quickly.

He took a deep breath watching you.

“Well, get it done already!” You chirped nervously.

He leaned over but giggled and backed away.

You laughed with him. “What?”

“I dunno, what if I ruin it?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t know this is my first kiss, too!” You said, nervously. You were getting butterflies in your stomach and you were sure your cheeks were getting red. Tom was made a tomato and he was shaking.

“Okay,” he gulped. “Uh.”

“Wait, but, in movies, the guy… usually holds the girl’s face,” you explained.

He nodded. “Right.”

“And the girl…” You were sure your stomach was going to explode. “Usually has her hand on his neck.”

And before you knew it, you were holding each other.

Tom gulped as he stared at you and you could see each and every freckle on his face.

“Okay, close--close your eyes,” he said as he cupped your face.

You did, and before you could think of it, Tom had placed his lips on yours, and you had pressed yours against his. 5 seconds, that’s how long it had lasted before you both pulled away and pushed each other away.

And you had gotten nervous enough, enough to even get you to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Just like you were about to throw up now.

“So I’m very glad, y/n, you’re very talnted and we’d like to offer a place in here, however, well you might have heard of this, but we’re looking for a fresh new story, we’re talking about giving you a big shot, write a story based on a personal experience, you see the idea of the new series is to make it as human as possible so we’re asking all of you, if we can work on it.”

“Oh, I didn’t know about it,” you lied. “That sounds interesting.”

“Well, it’s anything really, but alright, do you have any ideas to pitch in?” Your boss, Alessandra, asked.

“Right now?”

“Yes, anything. Let’s see that creative side of yours, I’m not telling you to give me the whole story, maybe just a prompt from your life.”

“Hm,” you bit your lip. “I... well, I’ll.... do something about childhood enemies to lovers, maybe.”

“Hm, a classic, happened to you? Did you fall in love with your childhood enemy?”

“I... well,” you cleared your throat. “Not really,” you squeezed your eyes. You were very nervous. “I mean, I’m kind of... trying to make that happen.” You were speaking without even thinking about it.

“Oh, how so?” She raised her brow.

“Well, I was trying to prove to a friend that I could make my enemy fall in love with me and I wouldn’t catch any feelings.”

Alessandra smirked. “I love that, work on it, do it, keep a journal of it, write it, make it entertaining and tell me the results, ooh, I really like that, ”Alessandra grinned as she looked up. She often did that when writing as if she was seeing the picture in her head. “It’d need to have a catchy name... But sounds promising.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, it can involve drama, love, humour, it’s perfect, we’ll see, and it’s the best way to hurt an enemy, so chop chop, go do it, I trust you, and we’ll see you in a month, keep a journal of it, remember, thank you y/n.”

You thanked her and did the exact same thing you’d done after giving your first kiss. You ran to the bathroom and threw up.

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sassytrickster666 · 4 years

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Fluff alphabet : Donny Donowitz

A while back I saw a couple of templates this Fluff Alphabet concept is based on. Unfortunately I cannot remember which(really not intentional, id never copy ideas/templates on purpose) . If you think I've gotten inspired reading your work, please let me know!

A = Admiration (What does he absolutely adore/admire about you?)

-Your ability to always stay calm. It amazes him how you stay calm no matter what happens. When there's an emergency you´re able to keep your shit together and do something about it.

-How ballsy you are. You can't stand when people are being a jerk for no reason and you call them out even if they are twice your size.

-Your reliability. Donny knows you will always be there for him. A thought that calms him and makes him feel warm and fuzzy. You won´t leave him for no reason. You comfort him when he needs it (even if he says he doesn't) and you support him.

B = Baby (Does he want a family? Why/why not?)

Yes. Yes. Yesssssss. I cannot express how much this man wants to start a family with his one great love. Even with all the crap he has seen, the idea of bringing something as pure and innocent as a baby into this world with you is very appealing.

When you're pregnant he´d be giddy. Completely and wholly his. He'd spoil his princess even more than usual. Extra pillow underneath your head, accompanying you everywhere, opening up doors for you. Honestly, his ´helpfulness´ drives you crazy sometimes.

C = Cuddle (how do you cuddle each other?)

-Big spoon. Every time. Tends to throw his leg over yours in his sleep, which in turn makes sure you´re not going anywhere. -Very intense cuddler. Likes to surprise you by grabbing/cuddling you from behind and lifting you up (especially when there's other people present like his friends).

-Really loves it when you snuggle up against him, laying your head on his chest. When you do this it is another reassurance that you feel utterly and completely safe and relaxed when you are with him.

D =Doll (What pet names does he use?)

Doll, babe, sugar, cutiepie , and his favourite; princess.

E = evenings (how do they spend their evening? So they go out? Do they read?)

While he loves hanging out with the boys he loves it even more when you join them. You get along really well with Wicki and Aldo so why wouldn't he try to take you with him? As soon as you guys had the baby he preferred just staying home with you both being wholesome and all.

F = first date (what was it like?)

He took you out to play pool. After both of you getting over your nerves there was lots of banter. He discovered you were better at it than he expected you to be. Tough, you totally did pretend you sucked at first so he had no choice but to show you how to play. He didn't mind ´having´ to be so close to you one bit.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He tries to be. He is such a bull in a china shop. He's big, he's loud… and secretly quite clumsy. The sheer amount of times he accidentally headbutted you is astounding. He makes up for it by giving you the gentlest of kisses on you forehead when he leaves for work or simply thinks you're being cute.

H = Hands (How does he like to hold hands?)

He likes holding hands, but he prefers it when you hook your arm through his. What can I say, he likes having you close to him. It also makes it easier for him to sneak kisses.

I = Impression (What was his first impression?)

The basterds introduced the two of you. He thought you were hella pretty and had a good sense of humour. The fact that you could hold your own around these men sure said something about you too.

J = Jealous (Does he get jealous easily?) Depends who gets close to you. He never gets jealous when any of the other basterds get near you. You could have Aldo hanging around your neck and Wicki winking at you and he won't give it a second thought. He trusts these boys with anything. However, these are not things strange men should do if they like having nuts. Or eating without a straw. Seriously, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine but he just doesn't trust others. He knows what men are capable of and he is protective AF. No one gets near his princess. Not that anyone that knows this huge man belongs to you would try anything.

K = Kiss (How does he kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

He kissed you on the lips first. You´d kissed his cheek long before that. You usually did when saying goodbye. This time he just couldn't help himself. You were so close to him, laughing at his jokes, touching his arm. He kissed you firmly on the lips, waiting for a response from you. Once you realised what was happening and kissed him back he immediately grabbed you and held you close to him, deepening it.

Donny is a passionate kisser and never passes up a chance to kiss you hello or goodbye or goodnight. He also likes to kiss you to assert his dominance over other men.

L = Love (Who said I love you first?)

He looooooves going picknicking with you. Just chilling out in the park or in the woods, enjoying some good food and each other's company. It was one of the first dates you went on and he will never forget the way you looked in your navy coloured dress, smiling up at him. It was the moment he realised he would never let you go. That he loves you to bits. It took him another week or so to casually tell you this when going to bed. As if it weren't anything significant or interesting.

M=Mad (Do you often disagree? What happens if you do?)

You do tend to bicker about the stupidest things. But it's a nice way of bickering. It's usually playful and you just try to convince one another. If you do actually get in a fight, Donny gets uncharacteristically quiet. To be honest, it kind of scares you, even though he would never do anything to hurt you. After you've cooled off he comes up to you to make up.

N = no (what is their pet peeve?)

Loud chewing, rude people, people that clip their nails in public, and socks that get lost in the laundry. WHERE DO THEY GO???

O = Orange (which color reminds him of you?)

This is so utterly fucking cheesy, but the colour that reminds him most of you is red. It is the colour of love. Donny always has been and will be a sucker for cheesy things. He also likes to ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven. Get matching coffee cups.

P = parent (what kind of parent would they be?)

He's quite protective of his kids, especially of his baby girl. Real papa Bear material. I pity the boy that wants to date his daughter…. He can be tough at times, especially when they did something he really dislikes like being disrespectful or lying. He would never hurt his kids but he would ground them in a heartbeat. That said, he would do anything for his kids as he´d do for you.

Q = Queasy (How they handle being sick or you being sick)

When you get sick, he's such a sweetheart. He fluffs your pillow, gets you medicine and attempts to make you soup to help you feel better (he can't cook to save his life, so you can imagine how well that went). You often tell him you can actually get around and so some chores with a bit of a temperature or a simple stomach ache. He won't have any of that though.

Donny doesn't get sick often, but when he does he is such a man about it.

R = Rainy Day (what does he like to do with you on rainy days?) Stay in. Get cozy. Play games. Have friends over. Have some drinks.

S = smile (what makes them smile without fail) Your face when you have to get out of bed in the morning: a slightly grumpy, sleepy bed head looking up at him. You being overly excited about a pet or animal. You surprising him with a hug.

T = together (how clingy are they? How long do you two spend together per day on average)

Donny works quite a lot and he works hard. He takes care of his family and likes to spend a good amount of time with them (he takes you with him of course ). You don't have a lot of alone time. However, as soon as he comes home from work he quickly makes his way to you to sweep you up in his arms and shows you how much he missed you during the day. He then spends the next half hour following you around in the kitchen.

U = Unencumbered (what helps him relax?) Doing sports (have you seen him?), having fun with friends, he also finds watching you cook or bake (and eatin it afterwards) very relaxing and mostly, actually, having sex.

V = videos (do they take lots of videos or photos during your relationship?)

He keeps a photograph of you with him wherever he goes. It's his lucky charm. You two also keep a small photo album with photos of the most important moments. This includes some pictures of him and the guys, pictures of your wedding day and pictures of your family and kids.

W = Wedding (What is your wedding like?)

It's a given that Donny likes to joke around and pull crazy shit. Not on his wedding day he doesn't. He is a nervous wreck when getting ready. He takes everything going well very seriously. What will you look like? Will you have gotten cold feet at the thought of spending your entire life with his crazy, annoying ass. Are they stupid and ungrounded thoughts? 100 percent. Do they successfully drive him nuts and jittery? Definitely. And definitely a couple sips of Aldo´s bourbon worthy. The wedding itself was pretty simple. The people you loved were there. Traditions were honored and the food was good. Donny couldn't hold back the tiny tear that slipped down his cheek when he saw you in your dress.

X = eXtra (what’s an interesting fact about them that they don’t tell anyone about?) Once upon a time when you were dating he decided to steal your bathrobe to open the door for the delivery guy and he kind of never stopped stealing your bathrobe. Have in mind your bathrobe is really big (for you) and pink. And Fluffy. And Donny is a tall man so it comes up to just about the middle of his hairy thigh. It's hilarious that you actually had to buy yourself a new one.

Y = yuck (what do they hate? Could be a food, sent, word anything)

This isn't really a hard one honestly. The thing he hates most in this world are nazis and bigots alike. It makes his blood boil like nothing else.

Other things he hates are: people that are unnecessarily rude or disrespectful, wet socks, and smelly cheeses.

Z = Zebra (if he wanted a pet, what would he get?)

A dog. He thinks they´re great companions, and you can get crazy with them. Also, he wants a big dog. He doesn't get along with cats at all. Wouldn't know how to act around them. He always gets scratched.

#Donny Donowitz #donny donowitz x reader #donny donowitz imagine #fluff alphabet #donny donowitz fluff alphabet #inglorious basterds imagine

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boonesfarmsangria · 7 years

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I finally saw fleet foxes last night and the show was so good. They played pretty non stop for almost two hours and played basically everything you would want to hear them play. Live they are so much more solid sounding. The instrumentation is really layered and thick. And with the new songs they definitely rocked out more. Obviously the harmonies are a strong point for them but it didnt feel like that was the main point and the new songs blended into the old and made them less simple sounding along with this newer direction in playing.. it just fattened them up in a really nice way but also maintained their identity in ways that didnt feel like the vibe of the song was abandoned or mistakeable. (Their old songs are amazing, some of my favorite songs ever, but they are relatively straightforward) Robin sounded really good and I wondered how his voice would translate live. Its better, prettier, fuller. He said they had had a weird show the night before and complimented the crowd a few times. (We were all singing alot and there was a lot of the general screaming) He didnt wear his in-ears so there was some people yelling things to him that he could hear and he interracted and responded to, which was cool since hes not a big onstage talker. He was smiling alot and looked like he was really having a good time and enjoying the atmosphere. The other guys werent displaying much outwardly (i dont think they really do normally) but it felt like they were really into it. And towards the end they were kinda joking a lil amongst themselves. It was just a really good space. Robin sang a few songs by himself and those were pretty special and showed how talented he is. Felt like it could as easily been just him up there and would have been entertainment enough. Not to take away from the rest of the guys at all because they are insanely talented..all of them at many points switching among multiple instruments throughout the set and generally doin the damn thing…just thats how good Robin sounds with his voice and a guitar. (I would never want that im just saying hes really somethin) The list of songs they played is crazy. Like outside of saying you like every single one of their songs equally i really cant see how this could have been better. I guess they could have played keep time on me and dropped a fleet foxes song but thats not what most people would want id guess. So even though i love LOVE their old songs and didnt think id love their new as much i really did and their set is dialed tf in. They are just so good. I was trying to think who they kinda remind me off and theres the general 70s band vibe and the beach boys harmonies but these new songs and the way theyve blended the set kinda had a jazzy feel to it. Kinda a weather report thing going on. So good. My pictures, as i always deliver, are less than great. I couldnt get a pic of all of them together cuz i was too close (ha real sad huh) Someone threw a bouquet of roses onstage after the main and when they came back for the encore robin had tucked one in his hair. Pretty damn cute and endearing. Anyway there wasnt really a highlight song for me because i really was so in love with it all from start to finish. I just wanted to hear all of those songs so to do so for the first time it just… it was perfect. Im so excited to see them again!!!!! They are now on my would travel out of state to see list.

Just wanna add I love Robin and think he is one of the coolest band dudes out there for a bunch of different reasons that I wont go into cuz this is really long already but he is a good person. A sweetie. Go see Fleet Foxes if they are near you and you like good music. Its worth the ticket price.

#2017 shows #mitv #fleet foxes #ff #mine #the opener was the most boring band ive seen in a long long long time #however chill this reads know that the show was heaven and i loved every second of it and im hype af on ff rn

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Quarantine On Crack

Until Dawn Gang + Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Some underage drinking, A LONG-ASS READ (sorry 😅)

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Humor

Summary: The Until Dawn kids (including Hannah and Beth) decide to go through literal hell - trying to survive each other while being stuck on a mountain, in a lodge together for an undetermined amount of time. It’s really a 50/50 chance of how their relationships will be affected by this much time spent together.

Requested by my dear Until Dawn Anon. This is the first time our babies aren’t suffering yay! Hope you enjoy! Know I had a ton of fun writing. The credit for some of these amazing quotes goes out to you (keep both the requests and quotes coming, I absolutely love them!) Love you, Vy ❤

Imagine what the aftermath of a human tornado would look like. You’ve got an image? Great. Now triple it as though three tornados had ripped through the place. Cause that’s what the lodge looks like right now.

Let me backtrack just for a second so I can give you a proper idea of what’s going on and how it came to be. I’d like to mention this ain’t my first rodeo. I’m not in Blackwood nor am I staying in this lodge with this group of people for the first time. I knew what I was getting myself into when I accepted Josh’s offer to go there now with this pandemic that’s eating away at the world. I knew certain members of the group would be hell to put up with but that quarantine beat staying at home alone with my thoughts, so I gave in. This plan had its perks: since we would be the only ones on the mountains and all of us are perfectly healthy, we’d be allowed to wander the woods and breathe some fresh air. On the other hand, however, I’d have to restrain myself from committing murder. The snowy wood outweighed the possibility of becoming a murderer and that’s how I ended up here with the ten people I’ve been friends with since high school freshmen year.

We’re on day four so far. Yes DAY four, not WEEK four, and people are already scrapping with one another. Jess and Emily can barely tolerate each other. Mike and Matt likewise. I’ve been done with their shit since day two and am now watching a literal rom-com unfold in front of me. “Will They, Won’t They Squared” is the title in case you were wondering. Why squared? Well we have two pairs of love birds around here that are not official, BUT THEY SHOULD BE. Not naming any names or anything *ahem*.

I probably should’ve mentioned, while I was on the scrapping topic, that I have already managed to threaten Mike at least ten times. Emily and I are trying our hardest to remain civil with each other through passive aggression, and I must admit we’re doing well.

Another thing that has been going on is A LOT OF FUCKING FLIRTING. I swear we run on hormones and caffeine. And I’m into it.

Jess and Emily were at each other’s throats just moments ago, the argument took so many turns and kept branching out so much I forgot what they were even fighting about. Sam and Josh are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace. Sam’s giving him a hard time about his inability to light a fire. She’s basically doing what I would’ve been doing if Matt hadn’t handed me a cup of homemade cider.

“Y/N.“ He says as he settles on the other end of the couch

“Matthew.“ I reply to his greeting, clinking our cups together

“GET A ROOM YOU TWO!“ Emily yells from somewhere behind us

“We have like three empty seats between us and exchanged two words.“ Matt shakes his head, looking at the staircase over the backrest.

“Oh, sureee.“ Emily replies sarcastically

I can tell she’s about to go on and I’ve already went off on Mike twice today so my argument energy levels are low and I’m not having it. Thankfully, a single look shuts her up real quick and she goes about her way.

Suddenly, a loud scream comes from the kitchen. Everyone turns to look in that direction, but I’m unfazed. It’s Ashley’s scream so I know exactly what’s up.

“Sit tight, guys. I’ve got this.“ I put my cider on the coffee table and walk into the kitchen, grabbing the can of deodorant that I purposely left on the counter for this exact scenario. I pull the lighter out of my pocket and step between Ashley and the source of her terror which is, as I guessed, one of those mutated ass Blackwood cockroaches.

I waste no time torching it and picking it up with a paper towel before throwing it in the trash. We take the trash out every night at eleven PM as some unspoken ritual, so the corpse can chill there for now. I ain’t going out in the cold just to throw away the dead body of a cockroach.

“Sorry about that.“ Ashley says through a relieved sigh

“Don’t worry, Ash. Everyone’s afraid of something.“ I assure her, putting the can of deodorant where it previously was.

“Even you?“ she asks skeptically

“Nope.“ I respond with a smirk.

“I CAN CONFIRM!“ Josh calls out from his spot in front of the fireplace, “SHE ISN’T AFRAID OF ANYTHING!“

“And a pyromaniac on top of all.“ Chris mumbles under his breath

He’s not wrong. I did teach them the deodorant flamethrower trick.

I notice Jess has taken one of those three seats Matt mentioned were between him and I earlier. The one closest to him, to be specific. Instead of third wheeling, I grab my cup and plop myself in one of the armchairs.

“Is that another point for the ‘Y/N’s burnt cockroaches’ score board?“ Mr. Munroe struts his way into the room.

I hum affirmatively, “Piss me off some more and there will be another point on that score board.” I warn him nonchalantly, taking a sip of my now almost cold cider.

Ashley, who has safely made it out of the kitchen and is now sitting on the floor by the couch looks up at me and Mike who is now standing behind my chair, looming over me like a street lamp. “Do you two even consider each other friends?”

I give Mike a debating glance, one he returns, before looking back at Ash, “We fuck occasionally.” Mike confirms from behind me.

“That doesn’t answer the question.“ Ashley’s disappointed sigh mixes with Jess’ shocked gasp.

I give Jess an unamused look, “What? Don’t act like I haven’t slept with you too.”

Poor Matt, who’s halfway through a sip of his drink nearly chokes at my words, “Wait, WHAT?”

“OK, show hands everyone who HASN’T slept with Y/N!“ Mike declares.

Chris, Ash, Sam, Josh and Matt raise their hands in the air.

“I’m honestly offended that I haven’t.“ Sam says while raising hers.

“Offended that you haven’t what?“ Hannah asks as her and Beth come downstairs a bunch of board games and puzzles in their arms. “And why are we raising our hands?”

“People who haven’t slept with Y/N.“ Jess quickly explains, grumpily folding her arms over her chest. I can’t help but laugh, nor can I restrain the urge to fluster her even further by winking at her.

“I would raise my hand but these boxes would go everywhere.“ Hannah shakes her head.

“I won’t raise mine because....well, I just won’t.“ Beth blushes, making me laugh.

Josh whips around to glare at me, “Seriously?”

I raise my hands in surrender, “Wasn’t my idea.”

Thankfully the topic is dropped by the time Emily walks in. She sits down on the other side of Jess on the couch, more than happy to interrupt her and Matt’s flirting.

“Oh, finally!“ Sam says as the fire that’s been in the making for a while now finally lights, “I knew you could do it, Josh!“

“We could’ve done it a lot quicker if you helped, you know?“ He narrows his eyes playfully at her, taking the hand she offered to him so she could help him up.

“True, but I was your moral support. You know I like focusing on one task rather than multitasking.“ She teases him, “And now I’ll be your cider supplier. Be right back.“

I give Josh that knowing smirk when I see his ears reddening. You know something’s up when your cheeks/ears are burning hot in a room that’s around freezing - you’re either burning with a fever or a crush. No other explanation.

Hannah and Beth have set the board games they’ve brought onto the coffee table so we can decide what we’d like to play.

“UNO?“ Beth offers while Jess, Josh and Matt look at the options.

War-like flashback ensue when I shake my head, “No! Nah hah, I’ll be tempted to strangle somebody.”

“Over UNO?“ Josh gives me this look that’s between disappointed and deeply concerned

“I’ve been tempted to kill over Rock, Paper and Scissors.“ That statement tells him enough that he turns back around with this stunned look on his face.

Eventually, after a lot of convincing, the whole gang is on board with playing a round or two of truth or dare until one of us decides something more original because we really don’t feel like playing board games.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?“ Emily asks, not giving anyone else a chance.

I smirk, kicking my feet up on the table, leaning back in the chair, “Truth for the first round.”

“Who here is the best in bed?“ she sneakily narrows her eyes at me, thinking she’s intimidating. How cute.

“Dare.“ Why don’t we make things interesting?

Em doesn’t complain, “We still have that cockroach’s corpse?”

“Enough said.“ I get up from my seat only to get grabbed by Mike and pulled back down.

“Easy there, caveman.“ He says, shaking his head, “Just answer the question. This doesn’t need to be gross.”

Chris, Ash, Matt and Jess look mortified. “You were gonna do it, weren’t you?” Matt gathers the guts to ask.

I give him a sweet smile and a nod. “And to answer your question: Me. My turn! Josh, truth or dare?”

He glares at me intensely, “Dare.”

The fucker knows I’m not the type to give ‘kiss this person’ or ‘7 minutes in heaven with that person’ dares. But I do ask some risky questions. Well...the only way to get him into my trap is to use his hatred for bug against him.

“We do still have that cockroach. So...“ I give an innocent shrug of the shoulders, giving him the chance to put two and two together instead of breaking it to him.

You could pinpoint the exact moment the realization hits him, his face turning in disgust. “You know, Y/N, sometimes I really love you.” He says, very touching of him, “And sometimes I’d love to kill you.” He takes a moment, a moment filled with aggressive eye contact between us before finally giving in, growling: “Truth.”

I think I’m level with Mother Theresa for what I did next. “What’s your favorite video game?”

The relief that washes over him is priceless to see. His answer comes as a sigh that indicates that the whole world has been lifted off his chest, “Metal Gear Solid.”

“Cool.“ I say with a cheeky smile.

Being the college kids we are, we easily get bored after a few more rounds, but not before having to defuse an argument that’s basically name-calling between Jess and Emily. I’ve noticed a pattern: if one of them as much as breathes in the other’s direction - a cat fight takes place.

Thankfully, the group disperses into smaller groups or in pairs. Sam, Josh, Chris and Ash go to the theater. Mike and Jess head upstairs, and I think no one would like to go to that area of the lodge in the next two or so hours. Emily and Matt go on a stroll while Hannah and Beth somehow convince me to play Monopoly.

The round ends with Beth somehow gathering all of mine and Hannah’s territories. After a brief celebration they head on over to the theater to join the others. I turn down their offer to accompany them and go warm up the cider that’s now literally frozen.

“Grab whiskey if you want to speed up the process.“ I’m surprised to hear Munroe’s voice behind me but don’t show it as I refuse to even turn around to answer him.

“I’m saving the whiskey for when things get really fucked up.“

“Smart, I guess.“

I choose to be nice and fill up a cup for him as well. I hop up on the counter, taking a slow sip of my drink while looking Mike, who’s standing opposite me, leaning against the kitchen island, dead in the eyes.

“You know,“ he’s the one to break the tense silence that surged between us, “jealousy is a poisonous thing.“

Intriguing opening, Michael. “I’ve heard, yes.”

“Then why don’t you just drop it? You’ll be happier if you do, trust me.“ That smug look on his face makes me want to pour the hot liquid (Destery Smith, anyone?) directly onto his handsome features.

I hear a pair of footsteps approaching the kitchen. A side glance in the direction the noise is coming from confirms that there are indeed two people coming this way - Chris and Ashley.

“A bold thing to tell me while we’re around so many sharp objects.“ If the eyes are really windows to the soul, I would like to picture his with a bunch of stab-wounds from my glare-daggers. Though my gaze is intense, there is a calm smirk on my face. “I can kill you right now.“

Chris and Ashley walk into the kitchen and freeze - they clearly hadn’t noticed us until it was too late. They are looking at us like a pair of deer caught in headlights - mortified.

Mike jumps at the opportunity to ensure his safety, “You can’t! There’s witnesses.”

Unfazed, I turn to the pair who’s on the fence about what they should do, “Guys, could you please excuse us for a moment.”

They both nod hesitantly, slowly taking a step back. Mike is not about to let them go, however. He straightens up, setting the cup he’s holding aside. “No, no, no! Don’t move! Not another step!”

Their eyes land on me and I give them a reassuring and encouraging nod to exit the room. They both comply easily.

“Guys, come on!“ Mike pleads desperately, making me suppress a chuckle

“Sorry, Mike. But you won’t show up at my house in the middle of the night....“ Chris trails off with his apology when Ashley takes hold of his hand so she can lead him away from the kitchen.

“She will.” Ash finishes his sentence, giving me a subtle wink to which I reply by blowing her a kiss.

“Checkmate“ I say triumphally, turning to look at a somewhat scared and disappointed Mike.

“A FIRE IN THE THEATRE!“ Hannah’s scream startles all of us.

I look at the where I left the deodorant earlier, finding the spot vacant. Oh boy...

“Damn it, Josh! I told you not to use the flamethrower without my supervision!“

As Mike and I run out of the kitchen I hear Chris say: “I’m afraid this is the only time this getaway will be lit.”

I hope Ashley gently smacked him upside the head in response to that.

58 notes · View notes

sayonarasanity · 3 years

Text

Reverberation

Chapter III

Link to chapter I and chapter II

Link to AO3

By the time they were in seventh grade, she was obsessed with Shakespeare.

Levi found it out one day towards the dusk when he was watching the sunset on the rooftop. There was a quiet chill in the air, only visible when a breeze swept past him occasionally and his body trembled instinctively. The sky was pastel pink, clouds were shadowy and reflected the soft colour of a day slowly coming to an end. The sun’s last rays enlightened the horizon and Hanji, gasping and sweaty, threw herself next to him, leaning on his shoulder for support.

“Did you bring it?” She asked, extending her hand towards him. She was acting like they were exchanging drugs, and he was the dramatic one of the two. How was that even fair? Without a word Levi put the chocolate milk and the sandwich, he had brought from home in her hand.

She looked at him like she was going to cry. Good acting. “Oh, thank God for Levi Ackerman. I was starving.”

“You should stop wasting your money on books.”

“I am not wasting money, Levi. I am investing it.”

“What did you buy this time?”

She made a gesture with her hand to indicate ‘wait a minute’ as she quickly started to eat her sandwich and drank her milk.

“Slow the fuck down,” he said, feeling a need to warn her when she patted her chest to ease the process of the food going down. Then she drank the milk furiously and squeezed it between her fingers until she sucked the last drop, and the inside of the cartoon packet was as dry as the Sahara Desert.

After that, she sighed, content and happily rubbed her now full stomach. The sandwich was half-eaten though, she rewrapped it with the cling film and put it aside. Then she opened her bag, buried her hands inside, searching. “I found an old book shop today,” she said with a goofy grin on her face. “And bought these babies with the last money I had.” At that, she took out two books, worn, yellow and smelled ancient.

Levi squinted his eyes as he took the books from her hand and read the titles. One was Macbeth and the other was Romeo and Juliet.

“Cliché,” he commented.

“Shakespeare is not cliché, grumpy. He is a classic.”

She was apparently annoyed. It was so easy to work her up through her books. “I thought you had read them already?”

“I did but I read my dad’s copies and he won’t let me keep them on my shelf. So, I bought my own,” she grinned ear to ear.

“Good for you,” he pushed the books on her hands, unimpressed.

“I marked my favourite quotes while I was on my way here,” she tossed and replaced herself next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. “And I have a question for you.”

He didn’t have a chance to say no. “Shoot.”

“Are you a Macbeth like sky lover or a Juliet like sky lover?”

His face crumpled in confusion, and he blinked his eyes at her. Hanji was looking at him expectantly. She was actually waiting for an answer. Oh boy. He hadn’t understood shit. “Hanji you know I don’t understand your nerd shit without having you explain it to me.”

“Oh,” she said, extending the h. “Right, sorry. My bad. What I mean is…” She opened Macbeth, and searched the pages until she found the one she was looking for. “For example, in Act I Scene IV, Macbeth says, “Stars, hide your fires! / Let not light see my black and deep desires,” and,” she dropped it to open the other book. “In Act III Scene II, Juliet says “Take him and cut him out in little stars, / And he will make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with the night/”

She turned her gaze again on him afterwards, adjusting her glasses. “So?”

“Hanji, what the hell are you trying to do?”

She rolled her eyes and closed the book. “Levi, I am just saying that obviously these two quotes,” she quoted the air while saying, “although out of context, are more or less about the sky so pick one.”

“But they don’t even make sense!” he objected.

“They don’t have to. It’s literature. If you take the lines of the context, you can use them however you like.”

“For example?” Levi pressed, still waiting for a reasonable enough explanation.

Hanji, like the nerd that she was, started to explain, “Macbeth is about revenge, ambition and remorse, at least superficially, and Romeo and Juliet is about love, old-grudges and misunderstandings, again superficially. But if you take the lines out of those concepts…” she shrugged.

“I can use them however I like?” Levi said, trying to come to her point.

“Exactly.”

“Like I don’t have any “black and dark desires”, but I can choose Macbeth?”

Hanji nodded.

“Because he talked about stars?”

She nodded again.

“But what do they have to do with loving the sky?” Levi asked, having been unable to make the connection.

Hanji paused, her eyes moved upwards to the sky, considering his question. She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, nothing.” Then her gaze turned back at him. “But don’t look for logic, Levi. Just pick one.”

“I said Macbeth already. Leave me alone.”

“Uh, you said that seriously?” She tapped her chin. “Why him though?”

“No specific reason.” Levi looked away to the town, observed the intermittent, weak lights of the houses underneath. “Juliet sounded way too sappy.”

Hanji snorted, and about a minute later she went on, “Literature doesn’t always make sense,” she said. “It’s like eating cotton candy. I mean, do you think it makes sense?”

Levi raised a brow at her. “Yes?”

“But—” Hanji made a stupid hand gesture. “It melts the second it touches your tongue. It doesn’t make sense. But you enjoy eating it because it melts the second it touches your tongue.”

Levi blinked hollowly. “I am not following.”

“Wait,” she said, excitedly. “I’ll show you.”

Then she thrust one of the books into his hands, shuffled the pages and pointed with her finger to the lines she had clearly underlined with a pencil. “Read it aloud.”

Levi was feeling like he had given up on whatever will power he had as he observed the lines. He could feel Hanji’s curious, and expectant gaze burning the side of his face. There was no escape from this.

He cleared his throat before starting. “Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.”

When he finished, he realized the goosebumps that crept upon his skin, the way the words flew out of his mouth as if they were notes from an old, forgotten ballad, and the way they melted on his tongue, slowly but deliciously like pink cotton candy—

“Damn,” he breathed.

“Right?” Hanji exclaimed excitedly.

“I don’t know what the hell he is talking about,” he said honestly. Just like how he didn’t necessarily like cotton candy because it was too sweet yet, the pleasure while eating it every now and then was undeniable. “But like—”

“It tastes good.”

“Yeah,” he stared at her.

Hanji laughed, cheerfully. Levi felt a slight twitch in his mouth as he watched her. “Do you have more?”

“Of course I do.” She then showed him a snippet from Romeo and Juliet. Levi took the book in his hands and read it aloud.

“My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I must love a loathed enemy.”

The chance to make a reference was too good and too obvious to ignore so Levi whistled, looking at the pages. “That’s rough body.”

Hanji burst into laughter.

Afterwards, they watched the way the clouds move slowly blocking and revealing the moon, hiding the stars behind, and giving the night an almost otherworldly view. Hanji kept talking, of course, whenever something came to her mind. Levi never quite understood half the things she had told him, but he always paid attention. Because watching her like this was like watching the flowing of a cascade. It was endless and it was loud and for that it was fascinating, and it was addicting.

And he couldn’t look away.

“Levi,” she said when the air started to become colder, and he was about to tell her that they should go back now. “I want to be a rocket scientist.”

“Huh?”

“I want to help people explore the universe,” she went on. She didn’t look at her confused expression, instead, she watched the stars with the slightest of smiles on her face. “I want to build rockets and I want to learn more about everything out there.”

She held up her hand, closed one of her eyes and looked at the sky through the holes between her fingers. “And I want you to be with me.”

Levi thought about cascades again and remembered a class in the school in which they learned how they created a pothole on the ground it fell. It was mere water, he had thought then, but it was strong enough to bore through the hard rocks. And Hanji was only a thirteen-year-old girl with a dream bigger than even the two of them, but she was a cascade, and as he watched her face which carried no doubt or insecurity, he believed at that moment that she could do whatever she ever wanted.

“I don’t think I can be a rocket scientist,” he said. Even the term itself sounded so weird in his ears when he tried to picture it on himself.

“You can be an engineer,” Hanji said, presenting another option. “You are smart enough to be. And then we can work together. Don’t you think it would be nice? Exploring the universe and other worlds behind the walls of the Earth? I mean we can even go to the same university. If you’d like to, of course.”

They were only thirteen. And those dreams seemed too big, too far away, and so out of reach and quite insolent for their age. But Hanji’s eyes were full of hope like she had no doubt about each of them achieving those seemingly distant dreams. And Levi wished he could be as hopeful as her and believe that they could go to the same university, then work together and explore the mysteries of the universe and maybe even more. Yet at the moment no matter how he tried, they still seemed so strange and so unlikely. Future was the furthest point of the ocean, a mirage in a desert, and they were merely kids with nothing but unformed, tender dreams in their hands.

How daring, he thought.

But then again, before he met Hanji, he had also thought that the sky was unapproachable, and the stars were just a view he enjoyed watching from time to time. Now, he touched them in an attic, underneath a makeshift sky and with a girl who had stardust in her eyes.

“Okay,” he said.

She smiled so big, she almost outran the sun. “Okay,” she repeated. “We have a dream then.”

“Good morning, Mrs Zoe.”

Hanji’s mother was a nice and kind woman with a height slightly over the middle, brown hair tied up neatly, and a pair of gentle brown eyes which were radiating warmth as they looked at him. She was dressed in clean and fresh attire and smelled like daisies. Levi would never understand how a girl, untidy, messy and dirty, like Hanji came out of this civilized woman.

“Good morning, Levi,” she smiled. “Come on in.”

Levi stepped inside and removed his shoes, then his jacket. “Is she—”

“She is in her room,” Mrs Zoe sighed, shaking her head. “She is being overly dramatic about it, boy. Be careful.”

Levi snorted. He had expected nothing less. “Sure.”

Hanji’s room was upstairs, and Levi prepared himself for a war scene as he knocked and opened the door. He was right of fucking course. Books, clothes, empty water bottles, and old, stuffed toys were covering the ground. Levi wrinkled his face in disgust and put the bag in his hand aside next to the dresser. Then set in to tidy up the room; folded the clothes, piled the books on her library and shelves, threw away the empty bottles and some eaten chocolate packages. Then he opened the curtains and left the window ajar for some fresh air to fill inside the room.

The figure buried under the blankets in her bed groaned and tossed. Levi watched as the bed creaked under her movements, and a puddle of messy brown hair showed itself on the head of the bed, setting free from the blockade of the blanket. He walked closer, reached down and pulled the blanket off.

She yelped, eyes wide in shock, and her body stayed frigid on her bed. “What the hell, Levi?”

“Language,” he warned, smiling slyly. She frowned and attempted to take the blanket back, but Levi had already lied it over her again. It only covered her from the belly down this time rather than her whole body like a damn shroud.

Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Heard you were sick.”

Just then she sneezed and cleaned her nose with a tissue that was already in her hands. Then she groaned. “I’m dying.”

Levi rolled his eyes. Dramatic indeed. “Do you have a fever?”

“No,” she sniffed. “I am not sick actually. It is an allergy, because of the weather.” She coughed and sneezed again. “And by the everything holy out there, it’s killing me.”

It was early Spring, so it made sense. “I don’t think a spring allergy will kill you, four-eyes.”

“Actually, some allergies are deadly,” she cleaned her nose again.

“But not this one.”

“Yeah, not this one I guess.” She stared at the ceiling, her eyes were watery, nose red and somewhat wounded, her oval-shaped glasses were slightly inclined, her hair was dishevelled, and her mouth was dry.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He got up from where he was sitting and took the bag he had left by the dresser. When he sat back down again, he handed her over two packets of chocolate milk. “Here you go, drama queen.”

She blinked at the items at first, until her vision became clear and when she found out what they were, finally a smile so big bloomed on her face that Levi felt relaxed. “Hero,” she uttered before she snatched the milk off from his hand and immediately opened one of them to drink with utmost appetite.

They leaned their backs to the head of the bed as Hanji drank empty both of the chocolate milk. After that, she slipped down a little and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Levi,” she said, lazily and sniffed. “Quick wordplay.”

“Go.”

“Virginia Woolf?”

It was a stupid game they had played one day when they got so bored, they had started to dangle head down from Levi’s bed. Basically, they were trying to make fun of artists’ names in general. Trying to get as creative as possible. And failing a lot. “A she-wolf?”

“That’s sexist, Levi.”

“How is that sexist?”

“I don’t know it sounded sexist,” she sneezed and cleared her nose, groaning miserably. “Okay, Shakespeare?”

He considered for a moment, eyes up to the ceiling. “A man who enjoys shaking pears?” The words almost made him flinch. So much for being creative.

“Levi,” she chuckled first, then started to giggle. “That was disgusting. Oh my God, you’re so bad at this.”

Levi scowled while Hanji’s laughter got out of control. At some point, her coughs joined the symphony but that didn’t stop her from laughing her heart out. She leaned into him more, almost making him fall from the bed. Fortunately, he balanced himself at the last minute with the help of the bedside table.

“Oi!”

“What is she laughing at?” Hanji’s mother asked from the door, smiling at her still laughing daughter, with confused eyes which held the understanding of a mother who was so used to her daughter’s antics. She was holding a tray in her hands and there were two bowls on top of it which Levi guessed to be soups probably.

“She has lost her mind, finally,” Levi replied, blatantly.

“No!” Hanji exclaimed, suddenly. Then there was a pair of hands grabbing his collar, then her wide, brown eyes were staring at him.

“What?”

“Levi, you know what to say to that!” She shook him. “We’ve rehearsed this before!”

It took him merely two seconds to understand what she was talking about. “No.”

“Please,” she pleaded, even had the audacity to pout. “You have to say it!”

He sighed, looked away, then saw her mother still in the threshold, now appearing to be obviously confused. On the other side, there was Hanji, continuing to look at him with those big, pleading eyes.

“O what a noble mind is here o’erthrown,” he said, with a tone so flat Shakespeare would possibly erase the line from the text if he were to hear it.

“Oh my God, Levi!” Hanji giggled breathlessly. “Your face!” Then she started to laugh drastically again, she even had to lay down on her side, her body shaking with the intensity of her laughter. Hanji’s mother on the other hand merely sighed and left the tray on top of the bedside table. There was also a pill on it, Levi realized. “Make sure she drinks it okay?” she told Levi.

He nodded in response and she left closing the door behind her.

Levi had to almost force the spoon down her throat for the soup to reach her stomach. She whined and tried to dodge from him like a four-year-old. Levi didn’t let her though until the bowl was empty. Then he drank his own.

“You’re gonna be a terrible father,” she said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

“Use a goddamn tissue, you uncivilized moron.”

“That’s none of your business.” She slipped down to lay on her bed after she drank the pill and pulled the blanket to her face.

“My job here is done, I guess,” Levi murmured and stood up, putting the bowl on the tray.

“You’re leaving?” Hanji watched him through the space left from the blanket which was covering half of her face.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You get some rest.”

“But I’ve been resting the whole day, Levi. I am bored.”

“What do you want me to do?” He raised a brow.

“Stay?” She asked, blinking her eyes innocently.

When Levi didn’t directly object her, she moved a little to create space for him, then opened the blanket and looked at Levi expectantly, and with a sheepish smile on her lips.

Why can’t I say no to her? Levi mused and scowled at himself inside as he lay down on the bed. Her smile remained in its place as she pulled the blanket over their heads, and they laid face to face in the dark, the only sound was their even and quiet breaths. This close he could smell her shampoo and the odour which only belonged to her, a mix of ancient books, ink and something soft like vanilla-scented candles.

“You smell very nice,” she whispered.

Levi was taken aback at the fact that they had been seemingly thinking the same thing. “I smell clean. Nothing you are used to.”

She snickered and sniffed. “So cruel, Levi.”

And he smiled only because she couldn’t see.

There was a marble pool near her school. It was round, bygone and had a small amount of water in it. In the water there were tokens of different sizes, some were new some were old enough to become rusty. Hanji enjoyed walking past and stopped by that pool every now and then. If she were lucky enough, she could find thirsty birds or sometimes protrude eyed green frogs. Today was one of those lucky days.

“Hello, little bud,” she smiled at the frog, reaching out with her index finger to touch its wet, and sleek skin. The frog croaked and responded to her stare with its big, rounded black eyes. “Would you like to come with me?”

She smirked when she imagined Levi’s disgusted, and horrified face if he were to see it. The frog croaked again, and as if it had understood what was going to happen to it if it agreed to come with her, it turned its speckled back to Hanji and jumped into the pool.

Hanji sighed wearily. “Alright.”

“What’s that weirdo doin’?” A voice belonged to a boy near her age spoke and Hanji froze where she had kneeled. She folded her fist and waited quietly for them to just walk away.

“Her weirdo shit,” his friend answered. What a sharp mind for his age! “Maybe she hopes if she kisses a frog it will turn into a Prince Charming and fall in love with her.” The three boys came walking behind her, two of them roaring with laughter while one of them made disgusting kissing sounds.

“I don’t think even a frog would fall in love with her,” Jack, the one who had talked first said and their laughter doubled up.

Hanji had recognized them, how could she not, they were unfortunately classmates. They had been messing with her since the first day they had started middle school. She had been ignoring them quite successfully since then. It was going to be almost three years and she was going to graduate anyway. She only needed to bear it for a little while longer.

Hanji slowly rose. She was going to meet Levi and she was already running late. Levi wasn’t a fan of waiting for her and each time she somehow managed to be late to their meetings. It wasn’t her fault that nature held so many things ready to be discovered by her. And Levi always chided her for being tardy, but Hanji knew he was never actually angry at her. Just slightly annoyed, but that was his nature.

She must’ve been incredibly tense because after thinking about him she felt her body relaxing. Even her jaw which was tightly shut eased, and she breathed then shook her head. No need to be so stressed over a bunch of good-for-nothings, Hanji.

She was about to be fully stood up when another body crashed against her and she stumbled forward. Her eyes widened, her world lost focus as she blinked her eyes and tried to understand the reason why she was seeing the things which were merely an inch away from her blurry. It didn’t take her much to understand. Her glasses were absent.

“Ups, sorry. Didn’t see you there.” The boy who crashed against her said. Was it Jack or one of the others she didn’t know. She was busy looking for her glasses on the ground. Calm down, calm down, she repeated inside. If you panic now, you’ll give them what they want.

“Watch out, Sammy, you’ll break her glasses.”

Sammy, so it was Sam. Then the third was probably Daniel. Didn’t matter. She had to find her glasses. Right now. Or else she couldn’t go to the roof; she couldn’t meet Levi. Everything was so damn blurry. Where the hell were her glasses?

“What an ugly pair of things,” Jack said. He walked in front of her and pushed something with the toe of his shoe. That thing shone when it moved, a short moment of reflecting the light of the sun but Hanji had understood what it was.

Calm down, calm down, Hanji, she remembered herself over and over again. Don’t panic.

“Move,” she said to the boy finally raising her eyes to meet his stare. There was a smug look on his pale face. His hands in his pockets.

“She can talk!” He exclaimed, laughing.

“Move away, Jack,” she repeated. “I don’t have time for this.”

“For what?” He asked lazily. “You should be thankful that we are talking to you. I am sure you haven’t communicated with an opposite-sex all your life.”

That one was easy to let slide. The fact that her best friend was the so-called opposite sex was none of their business anyway. Thus, she stepped forward, ignoring his words. She didn’t want to kneel down to take her glasses. He had to move.

Yet, he didn’t. Instead, he stood where he was, his stare, cocky and priggish never leaving her eyes. As if he was challenging her to do something to him. What can you do? It was saying. You are a slim, feeble girl. You are nothing.

A weirdo.

Another step forward.

Loser. Lunatic.

Hanji put her hand on his shoulder to push him back at the same time Jack took a step towards her. She hadn’t put much pressure to keep him in his place for she was only aiming at pushing him slightly back. So, when he moved, the hand on his shoulder was useless to stop him. Hence something cracked under his foot and Hanji froze.

“Oh, damn,” Jack said, faking a regretful voice looking down at what he had done. “I broke her dear glasses. How reckless of me!” He and the other two laughed together while Hanji stared at the broken piece of glass on the ground unable to move her body.

“But don’t worry. It was so ugly anyway.”

Calm down, calm down, the voice inside of her head proceeded to repeat in her head as if it were afraid of her losing control. Take deep breaths, let it go. You’re going to get rid of them in—

“Yeah, just like its owner.”

It was nothing she wasn’t used to. Ugly, dirty, messy. Are you sure she is a girl? She never even wears skirts. Maybe it is a guy under disguise. It happens in movies. Hahaha, maybe we’ll catch her in the boys’ restroom someday!

She was used to it and she always ignored them. Always let it past. They were just a bunch of teenage boys, silly and ignorant. And despite everything, she had been fully aware of the fact that she was much much smarter than them all. Coming from the same country, going through the same education but not each apple on a tree was fresh. Some were rotten and some were green. And there was already a boy in her life who was the direct opposite of everyone she had ever met. A boy who watched the stars with her, a boy who smelled like leaves, soap and the wind and a boy who memorized lines from an old, English poet not because he was so fond of them but because he knew that she was.

The boy who was waiting for her now, and she was getting late.

It was that thought that single reality that had finally moved her body. The voice inside of her head silenced, and for once in her life, she let the wheels in her brain stand motionless. Her hand reached forward and grab the collar of the boy and with power mostly coming from her anger she turned and held the boy just above the pool and supported herself by putting her foot on the marble edge of it. Jack who had been caught off guard for he hadn’t been waiting for a launch from Hanji could do nothing but gasp in shock.

“What the hell are you doing, you lunatic?” he yelled and grabbed her hand which was gripping the collar of his t-shirt.

“Let Jack go, you goddamn weirdo!” One of the other boys exclaimed.

“Don’t come close!” Hanji warned. “Or I’ll let him fall. I am sure it won’t be a soft fall, don’t you think, Jack?”

Jack’s eyes flared up with rage and vague fear. He took sharp breaths, as he tried to balance himself only with his folded legs. “Don’t come close,” he warned his friends without breaking eye contact with Hanji. “You’re going to pay for this.”

Hanji almost snorted at his words. For God’s sake, who was he? A mafia boss in the disguise of a teenage boy? She smirked, whatever. “I’ll be waiting.”

Then she pushed him slightly backwards, causing him to yelp in panic and held her hand tighter. Her smile widened to the extent of becoming almost wicked. “Having fun?”

“You’re crazy,” he said, between thick, fast breaths.

“Maybe,” Hanji whispered.

Jack was only a slim, teenage boy with no muscle or fat whatsoever in his system, so he wasn’t that heavy to hold. But even though her anger was feeding her at the moment, her arm had started to shiver, because she didn’t necessarily use her arm muscles for anything that required physical strength and she didn’t want him to realize it. Hence, she pulled Jack upwards, turned him around and threw his body to the ground. He hissed as he landed on the hard, stone ground. Sam and Daniel quickly reached and kneeled on either side of him, helping him get up.

Her side was blurry, and it was coming back as nausea. She was still angry, her body was trembling with the force of it, her fingertips were numb. But they were three and she was one. If they decided to attack her altogether, she held a very little chance against them. Especially now that her vision was the least clear, she was at a disadvantage. The wisest thing to do was to run away now that their attention was not focused on her. And she readied herself to do so, a foot behind the other, her hands gripping the handles of her bag on her shoulder, she checked the direction she was going to follow, and she prepared to run—

And then, she couldn’t.

A hand grabbed her collar tightly, tight enough to almost choke her. She glanced before her in shock, with her eyes as wide as a pair of big, round rocks and saw Sam.

“You little bitch,” he whispered, drawing her close by the collar. His eyes were black as coal, burning with fever. “You think you can run just like that after what you’ve done?”

Oh, well, she thought woefully. That was bad.

“I have done nothing,” she said, blinking her eyes in ignorance.

Deep breaths, the voice talked again, keep your heart steady.

He clenched his teeth, his jaw moved in a way that almost made her laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” she said, calmly and smiled nervously. “But maybe you should—”

“Get,” a voice, so dark and smelled like ice, said. A voice so familiar, like the backs of the books on her library. “Your hands-off.”

If she was surprised before, now she was startled. Because it was Levi, in all his Darkling glory, standing right beside them, and with an aura as black as the shadow of death. He was glaring at the boy who was holding her collar. When had he come so close? She had never noticed. And also, why had he come anyway? He was supposed to wait for her—

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked, frowning.

“You’re going to find out if you don’t take your fucking hands off of her.”

Surprisingly, Sam did let go of her, but he didn’t seem the least frightened by Levi as he turned to face him.

“Levi,” she started, but he didn’t separate his gaze from Sam. “Levi, it’s okay. Let’s go.”

“Don’t tell me,” Sam laughed, deridingly. “Are you her boyfriend?”

Hanji winced at the word in shock, but Levi was tranquil like the sky right before a catastrophe.

“What if I am?”

Sam whistled and glanced at Hanji from the corner of his eye. “Nothing, I guess.” He snorted. “Just surprised to see this weirdo having a boyfriend—”

It was a bad day for collars in general it seemed, when Levi grabbed Sam’s furiously, pulling his face close and a little down to him.

“Call her weirdo again,” he said in a low voice. “Or lay your hands on her and I will show you then who I really am.”

Hanji was impressed, to say the least. She felt like she was stuck in the middle of a low-budget film adopted from a best-selling but dabster romance-action novel. It was strangely exciting though but also becoming slightly dangerous too.

“Levi,” she tried again. She didn’t want him to get into any trouble because of her. She caught the arm of his jacket. “Drop it. Let’s go.”

“Where the hell you think you’re goin',” Jack came near them, his face twisted in a wicked way. “You little slut—”

The term that “everything happened so fast” mostly used in novels, was quite accurate as Hanji herself found it out first-hand when Levi’s fist landed the side of Jack’s face so fast, she only had time for a quick inhale.

“Son of a bitch,” he snarled, voice full of such hatred it was almost like it belonged to somebody else.

After overcoming the first wave of shock, Jack straightened up, his teeth greeted and eyes aglow with anger, and wasted no time in punching Levi right back on his cheekbone. Levi’s body stumbled to the side; his hair black like the midnight ocean winnowing with the force of the blow.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Levi!” she yelled and rushed forward. A yellow light, luminous like a streak of lightning flashed before her eyes, and within a moment the blood in her veins consisted more of raw fury than of platelets. However, she couldn’t make it that far for she was held back by a pair of hands on her arms. “Let go!” she screamed, struggling to free herself of those hands.

“You stay here, while Jack takes care of your boyfriend.” Hanji heard Sam’s sly voice behind her, and she grunted in frustration, still floundering to get rid of his iron hold. The word felt too weird and for some reason wrong because Levi wasn’t her boyfriend. He was more than that. He was her best friend.

Her best friend, being beaten because of his best friend. “Let him go, Jack. You ignorant bastard!” She exclaimed, feeling guilty and incredibly useless.

The two boys continued striking each other with punches and kicks. Gruff voices, and painful whines which Hanji couldn’t always decipher to whom they belonged filled her ears. She couldn’t even get a clear view of the two as they stumbled away from her, and because of her murky vision, she didn’t even know if the little, red spots on the ground were actually droplets of blood. And it terrified her to even think about whose blood they might be.

“Levi!” She screamed then grunted and kicked Sam’s leg and stepped on his foot while at the same time struggling to get rid of his hold. Sam hissed, and swore but didn’t let her go. Unlike Jack, he was taller and a little muscular in his arms. And she had nausea, also there was a stable pound right on her temple like a vein there decided to take the role of her heart.

One of the two boys spitted and Hanji saw, albeit quite blurrily, that the colour of the spit was red.

“Oi, oi, oi oi!”

An older, and rougher voice joined the chaos, and it sounded familiar, too familiar even, but Hanji couldn’t focus enough to think about who it belonged to. She realized Sam going solid behind her though, and someone shouted, “Kenny! Fuck, it’s Kenny the Ripper, Jack!” It was Daniel, Hanji found out when she looked around squinting. Kenny the Ripper? The hell was that?

“Shit,” Sam swore and released her arms. “Jack, come on! We need to go!”

Jack must have taken their warnings seriously for within seconds, she heard someone else, probably Jack, saying, “Fuck!” and the sound of three footsteps quickly running away. Levi, on the other hand, she knew because he was the only one left now, let out a hostile, muffled growl and took two quick steps forward, “Where the fuck are you running, you goddamn cowards?”

However, he couldn’t make it further away, for Hanji who dizzily stumbled to where he was, stopped him with her hands on his shoulders. “Let them go,” she said. “That’s enough.”

Levi was close, close so close for her to hear his sharp, quick breaths, and their cold touch on her cheeks, and feel the way his shoulders and chest moving up and down under her hands, his scent; fresh leaves, soap, sweat and blood—

And the bruises on his face.

“Levi!” She gasped, and without thinking, she took his face in between her hands. “Levi, your face…”

There was blood on his lower lip and his nose, his right cheekbone was already taking the colour of a mix of purple, red, and blue another bruise was forming on his chin. There was also a little cut on his forehead, bleeding ever so slightly, but it was there. And it was there because of her.

Guilt punched her in the gut much harder than an actual, real punch would and it hurt a thousand times more than a simple blow of a fist would cause. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembled vaguely, and her eyes burned like ashes were splashed over them. “I am so sorry, Levi. My fault, it was my fault. I started it—”

“How the hell those brats knew about that ancient nickname,” Kenny muttered, coming to stand beside them. When Hanji looked up, she saw him face shadowed, and brows knitted. He seemed to be somewhat, just a little bit, terrifying. “Oi,” he said, coldly, staring down at both of them. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“Nothing,” Levi said, severely and pushed her hands away. He turned his bruised face to the other side, hiding his gaze and the expression that was placed in them from her.

“Your face says the opposite,” Kenny said, squinting and turned his gaze to Hanji. “Care to explain?”

“I—” she forced out, but she didn’t even know where to start.

“We can talk at home, Kenny.” Levi walked past them, without sparing a look at either Kenny or Hanji. “Leave her alone.”

He was mad, and he was right to be. Confirming it only made her feel even more shitty, and she bit her lip as to set a barricade to prevent herself from weeping like a baby just where she stood. She bent her head down when she started to walk behind him, both because of the guilt that weighed down on her and because looking ahead made her even dizzier and increased her headache along with her nausea.

Kenny sighed but kept quiet as he too joined them. The three walked in silence, Hanji kept on chewing her lower lip as she traced the lines of her shoes and the cracks, holes on the pavement. A hurricane roared; a whirlwind grabbed the submerged emotions and relentless thoughts inside of her and twirled them wildly. The harder she fought the easier she lost against them. Conscience was a prison one had to visit from time to time. And currently, she was stuck within, the key was missing, and the guard was cold-blooded and unsparing.

A hand, steady and warm grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to the side. Hanji looked up in surprise to see she was about to crash against a lamppost had Levi not drawn her aside.

“Careful,” he said.

And it was his voice, low, smooth and gentle, and his hand which still held her not too tight but not too light either, or the way he moved his thumb on her shoulder, soothing, caring. It was all of them combined that in the end made her tear up.

She turned her blurry gaze to his face, he was staring ahead, his eyes were shining blue with the last rays of the sun and the blood on his lip and nose was almost dry now. She separated her lips to say thank you or I’m sorry, again, I’m so sorry.

It was all my fault.

But the words died on her tongue, they never received a voice to come out alive, and he didn’t look back at her eyes. Instead, he squeezed her shoulder slightly as if to say, it’s okay.

She wasn’t necessarily convinced but for now, she chose to believe in him.

They were sitting in the living room of Levi’s house. Kenny was placed on a chair across from them, arms folded on his chest. She and Levi sat side by side on the couch. She was playing with her hands anxiously, her lip started to hurt from constantly chewing. Thankfully, her headache and nausea were better now.

They had arrived here about twenty minutes ago. Hanji couldn’t erase the look on Kuchel’s face when she saw Levi, blood and bruises all over his face, from her mind. Her face had turned white as the paint on the ceiling, making the guilt boil hotter and burn severely inside.

There was no escape now. Kuchel deserved to learn what had happened to her son. So, Hanji told them while she treated the wounds on her son’s face, albeit reluctantly and when she was finished the room was silent for a while.

Levi hissed as Kuchel cleaned the cleft on his lip. “Don’t tsk at me, boy,” Kuchel scolded him and attached a band-aid just under his lip. “You brought this upon yourself.”

“He didn’t,” Hanji objected. “Please don’t be mad at him, Kuchel. It was all my fault. I—”

“Shut up,” Levi snarled, suddenly.

“What?” Hanji asked, blinking.

“I said shut up!” Levi raised his voice, and when he looked at her at last, she saw the flames of his emotions rising up, up and up in his eyes.

“Levi,” Kuchel interrupted. “Calm down.”

Levi acted like she had never talked. “None of this was your fault!”

“But I started it,” Hanji attempted to say yet, he was too angry to listen.

“You didn’t start anything, Hanji! You protected yourself. You don’t walk around bullying people. You did what you did because they made you to.”

“But—”

“Stop blaming yourself for things you weren’t responsible for!”

He was breathing heavily, eyes wide and bright. Hanji was quite taken aback, lips parted slightly in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to yell at her like that. From his earlier reaction, she had thought that he was angry at her because she was the reason for what had happened to him. But now she saw, with a startling realization, that that wasn’t the reason at all.

“They deserved what happened to them,” he went on, then looked away. “I would do the same for ten times more if necessary.”

Words rolled left and right on her tongue, her voice lingered on her throat, sentences shaped before her eyes but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t let a sound out of her mouth. Levi was like a river, she thought then as she watched the tempest in his eyes, with canals and meanders, sometimes he was as tranquil as the leaves on summer trees and sometimes he was wild enough to overflow over the edges.

“We are going to talk about it later, young man,” Kuchel said, looking straight at Levi.

“What?” Levi asked, sharply.

“You can’t go around picking up a fight with strangers.”

“But they deserved it,” Levi pressed, jaw tightening stubbornly.

“I can understand the reason why you think that they did,” Kuchel went on with a softer voice. “But violence is not the answer. You know that.”

Levi turned his face away, his jaw moved as he pressed his lips together, and he folded his arms. “Whatever.”

“You should be thankful to that old lady who saw you getting your ass beaten,” Kenny told him, leaning back on his chair. As it turned out the reason why Kenny had found them was an old lady who had recognized Levi and informed Kenny about the situation. Hanji genuinely wanted to find and kiss her hands for being the nicest person alive.

“I learned from the best,” Levi snapped.

Kenny squinted and looked at Kuchel. “Permission to beat your brat as punishment?”

“Declined,” Kuchel said, rolling her eyes.

Levi smirked, and Kenny clicked his tongue, clearly irritated.

“Hanji,” Kuchel turned her attention to her, kneeling in front of Hanji and she pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “I need to talk to your parents about this, honey, okay? They need to know. This is serious.” She held her hand and squeezed lightly. “You don’t have to face this alone, alright?” Kuchel smiled.

Hanji bit her lower lip again when tears started sinking behind her eyes. She couldn’t find the strength to say anything, so she merely nodded in response.

“Don’t worry,” Kenny said then, crackling his fingers. “If a verbal warning doesn’t work, I can always teach them a more permanent lesson.”

“Kenny, they are only children. Don’t be ridiculous,” Kuchel rolled her eyes and shook her head. “And it will work. We will make sure of it.” She raised her brows. “Right?”

“Yes,” she managed to whisper at last. “Thank you.”

Oh, no. She was near the edge of crying, only needed one more push and then she would fall and get drown in her own, salty tears. For some reason, she didn’t want to cry in front of Kuchel. There was nothing wrong with crying, she knew that, but still…

Then, a hand, the same one from earlier, grabbed her own and pulled her up. Hanji let him, despite the unexpected movement, and as Levi guided her out of the room, she merely followed without saying a word.

“I am gonna take her home,” he informed Kuchel and Kenny shortly before they exited the room.

The air was somewhat chilly outside, and the light of day was long lost but neither Levi nor Hanji were quite aware of it. Levi didn’t let go of her hand as he kept on pulling her, his steps were fast and determined, hand firm and warm around her fingers. She followed for a handful of seconds, trying to match his steps. She couldn’t get a clear view of the road, nor could she make out the lines of his figure from behind quite clearly. It took her several minutes before she pulled at his hand to make him listen, “Levi,” she called. “Levi, I don’t want to go home.”

He didn’t look back, he didn’t slow down, he didn’t even wait for her to reach him. “I know,” he said merely.

With those two simple words, the final push came at last, and tears let loose without a warning. She sobbed and covered her eyes with the inside of her elbow, tears wetted her thin raincoat. And Levi squeezed her fingers as if to say, it’s okay, and this time she really, truly believed that it was.

“Wait here for a second,” Levi stopped them minutes later. She didn’t know where they were. Now that it was darker, there were artificial, neon lights everywhere and they made her head throb. “Okay?”

She nodded and sniffed. Her face was wet with tears and very embarrassingly snot, however, she had no tissue with her or anything to clean her face with.

Levi sighed and stepped closer. Hanji wondered why he was still there while he had just told her to wait. Then he lifted his left hand, and she saw that he had pulled his t-shirt over his palm. His right hand held her shoulder and as Hanji blinked her eyes confused, he brought his hand over her face then cleaned each wet spot with his t-shirt.

She gawked at him in shock. “Levi!”

“Don’t.” He folded the fabric up after he was finished. “I don’t want to hear anything about this. Ever. Understood?”

She was still in awe; the great clean freak Levi Ackerman had just cleaned the snot in her face with his cloth! “You—”

“Understood, Hanji?”

It took much too effort to close her jaw, and say, “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Then he walked away, leaving Hanji astonished and very much impressed. She felt her heart fluttering a little, and her lips curled upwards. “Softie,” she whispered to herself.

When he got back a few minutes later there was a bag in his hand and inside a couple of chocolate milk and her favourite snacks. “You hadn’t eaten anything,” he explained, and when they settled on their road to the roof, she smiled, looking at his side profile. Softie, indeed.

Hanji drank her milk, and they ate together with the snacks he had brought. It eased her headache and appeased her nausea a little bit. She couldn’t look up at the stars though, what a shame.

“We should go to the same high school,” Levi said after they finished eating and were watching the view ahead.

Hanji beamed at him and shoved his shoulder with her own slightly. “Yeah, it would be great.”

She leaned on his shoulder afterwards and enjoyed the breeze, and his warmth she borrowed through the fabrics of their clothes. When minutes started to chase the hours slowly, the night got colder, and clouds started to gather up above. “We should—”

“I don’t want to see you getting hurt again,” he said, suddenly.

Hanji looked at him and saw it again. Levi was a river, high and low, wild and calm, complicated and wide. He flew through rocks, valleys and lands. Just like a river, she thought, he carried his emotions in an endless stream. And once she let herself be carried away with it, there was no way to escape. And it wasn’t like she looked for one in the first place.

“Can I hug you?” she asked, with a voice so low, it was as if she was afraid of hearing the word no.

“Idiot,” he said, and she saw the waters calming down in his eyes, and his voice was tender like the petal of a violet. “You never need to ask.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, and as he hugged her back, arms tight around her waist she wasn’t quite surprised to realize that her vision was yet again blurry with hot tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For being there.”

“I always will be,” he replied without hesitation. And then a heartbeat later he added, “To the last syllable of recorded time.”

A tear escaped her eye, she laughed hoarsely and breathed in. He smelled like leaves, soap and the wind.

He smelled like home.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levihan fic #levi x hanji #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levihan childhood friends

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itsgrishaverse · 4 years

Text

SINS.

♧. A thing for vampyre!Michael, this was one of my first writing and I’ve seen I never really posted it here!

♧. Summary: Michael is shown his past or future, an inevitable death laced with a romance he hadn’t met yet.

♧. Word count: 2169.

♧. warnings. blood and death.

drvgonspells.

There were tragedies disguised as dreams and dreams that tasted of heaven in the form of tragedies. An oasis for the starving soul, that one man who dared to look for the forbidden fruit, greedy enough to keep it for himself. Doomed by, it was told that he was the walking sun. Rumors referred to the golden long curls which, remarkably, complimented his pale features. Others dared to be blind to such expectations of a striking beauty and swore it had nothing to do with it, but his corrupt soul. Someone who burnt their surroundings without a second blink. An intelligent and vital serpent, one of them exclaimed with wide eyes and one hand clung to his heavy chest, after leaving the mansion that belonged to Langdon. Claiming he’d prefer to meet death than dealing with such a man again. The guests laughed it off, believing his thoughts were clouded by jealousy or a possible rejection coming from the man himself, it wasn’t a secret that Michael took a certain liking for men as much as they did for ladies. After all, it was Langdon's name that was spoken with respect and admiration, not theirs.

Three days later, he was found dead by the lake, blood drained. No one else kept laughing.

Death respected no youth or innocence, but it had a certain liking for its son. Michael Langdon was not only favored by occultism, but people that followed him, looking forward to their approval by the smallest of things. It was the attention he bathed in, superficially. In the presence of ladies or gentlemen, he wore a bright smile as if painted by the sun itself. A glint within eyes and the eye contact which he, desperately, held to others. Often coming as intimidating. His manners were often shown, having a particular liking for the guest’s pleasure. If they were pleased so was he. In every sense.

And how deeply he relished in the feeling.

“Mr. Langdon. Pardon my boldness, but this is the first time I have seen someone,” The young lady, dressed in a silk white dress, held the wine bottle closer to the bathtub. Until emptied inside. It was the last one after awhile, and now a reddish liquid filled it. “Someone taking a bath with no water, but wine.”

As if a joke itself, her response was a gentle yet deep in tone chuckle from the standing male in front of the mirror. Amused blues didn’t bother to look at her, but her gaze didn’t bother to look away from him either.

There was something about him that made such a common thing as unbuttoning the ends of sleeves, interesting. Perhaps alluring to keep looking — for sight of skin. For sight of all of him.

Thoughts read. Langdon’s gaze lifted from his hands, gazing at her through the crystal. The ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

“I do it because no one else does.” He answered with a lighter tone. Obvious from its own perspective. As soon as his white shirt was discarded, he turned to face her. A not-so-true answer, with hints of a lie. “But you’re not here to see me bathing, are you? Your gaze speaks of curiosity.”

She shook her head, rising to her feet. Once again he had found a way to get in her thoughts.

“I’ve heard things.” Added shortly after. “About you, Mr. Langdon.”

“Where would be the fun if people didn’t speak my name? That’s what they were made for, after all. To be spoken.”

He knew where this conversation would lead, neither did he have the mood or time to unleash all the questions that came with it. In other circumstances, Michael would’ve found himself bothering to go with this process alone, but this wasn’t it. He was stuck in a long mirror which held surrow and confusion. Something that began as a feeling a couple of weeks ago. Out of nowhere. At the beginning assumptions that it would leave made him not pay attention to it, but it didn’t happen. It became worse. Such an odd feeling that would send an certain shiver through his spine was soon followed by mornings without sleep. It was clinging. Clutching. Digging inside in pain. It felt as if mourning, but there was no face or name he could make sense of. There was no one he would care enough about other than himself.

And so with the uncertainty of what would happen after he attempted to do a reserved spell in an attempt to look for answers, the odds of being lost in time or inside his mind crossed his thoughts. The spell was destined to only see and live the past— not the future. The past was no use to be unburied, but the future was promising.

However, the feeling was heavily known. It was a loss. Langdon’s heart was mourning and he didn’t know why. Not yet. Tonight the decision to look for unknown answers was made.

“And you haven’t denied them either.” Her voice brought him back to reality, blinking from himself ( how did he get inside the tub without noticing, lost in thought? ) upon the female, now sitting in the nearest chair. One long deserved minute was taken to stare, tracing the curve of her body, complemented by silk. He noticed it was shorter — and in fact, she has rolled up the ends of it, folding it into her lap. Allowing him the sight of inner thighs. “Is it true about the things you make us do?”

He shouldn’t have allowed himself this distraction and yet there he was, with a tilt of head ( long blond curls falling over one shoulder ) daring her to continue. “Why don’t you find out by yourself, if you’re so interested?”

“Even those rumors. That you encourage them to do questioning ways to please you?”

The glint shown without oceans of blue, clouded by either lust or warning made her swallow. One hand had already reached out for her top buttons, unbuttoning one by one. There was no shame in revealing herself to him, for she already felt bare before him long ago. He undressed her in his mind or so that’s what he wanted her to believe.

“I never make them do anything they don’t want to.” An inner mocking gesture. The young male took another minute to admire her figure. “Close your eyes for me, will you?” Upon noticing the confusion on her face, he added. “I will not touch you until you do it yourself. You want me to crave you, but nothing will make me crave it more than a woman who knows how to please herself. Show me that you don’t actually need me to do such a thing for you, that you just want me to.”

Anything else would make her believe he was playing around, wasn’t so everyone? A gentle squeeze was given to her left breast by herself, it was small enough to fit perfectly into the palm of her hand as the tracing of her free hand lowered to her bare core. Was it a little pleasant show he desired? The thought made her release a low breath, legs spreading for him. Intimate and bare before him, like a delicate petal, yearning to be touched and admired. Fluttered closed eyes allowed to picture herself laying on the silk white blankets, with dim light shadows above her. Figures in the dark when she’d take the time to spoil, love and touch herself like no other man did. There was no shame in it, why would she feel sorry for the lack of others? Fingertips, slowly, circled around her folds. Finding that pleasure spot easily. It was the deep gaze that Mr. Langdon often had on her that encouraged that tingling feeling inside, hips raising to chase and seek her own bliss. By then lips had parted, soft whimpers followed.

How sensible they felt.

“Use your fingers.” His huskier voice didn’t make it less pleasant. It felt close enough to her ear, breathing in her neck— but she knew that was not the case. He remained inside, leaning back against the material of the cold marble. Two delicate fingers slid in, pleasing his sight. “Come on, love. How do my fingers feel inside you?”

Her teeth caught her bottom lip, preventing any further noise. The female’s body kept on seeking her reach, clouded by arousal. “It feels —“ It gave her chills. The form of his name came out in the sweetest of low moans, mind attempting to settle as a wave of satisfaction greeted her. There was no time to recover by the moment someone else’s steps walking in the bathroom were heard, startling her. Her eyes opened to meet Langdon’s gaze. He wore a grin. As satisfied as she felt.

“Well?” He inquired. Unbothered by third one in the room.

“Satisfying.”

Only then, his attention turned to the male around his thirties, who didn’t seem phased by such an event before his eyes. His strong accent arose with short words. “It’s time.” And it was indeed time to know the truth. Part of him wanted to, the other part just wanted to ignore it all and move on.

“Very well. You have been entertained enough. Why don’t you lead the way towards the lady’s room?”

It was spoken towards the male with stubble, who was interrupted by the female as soon as she arose, already dressed. “I know my way, as every night. Thank you, Michael.” These little games they often played between them ( often initiated by her ) whenever she’d feel herself unsatisfied by others. Michael never touched her himself, but he made it easier for her to feel as if he had. Neither side complained. Instead of taking steps towards the main door, she did the expected for him. Finding herself by the side of the bathtub, she brought her wrist close to his lips. An invitation. His gaze spoke of amusement and yet, desire wrapped up as one. Sharp teeth dug into the skin yet before he could find himself attached to it, she withdrew. Holding her hand out; drops of blood fell onto the man’s bare chest. As a response, a sound of pleasure came from him. His head tilted backwards; waiting. Tasting on his tongue now the blood tainting his lips.

A moment that was shared simply by glances and deep thoughts. When the room was left alone, except for himself, he took a deep breath. The little games between them would perk his interest, but not tonight. He couldn’t stop thinking. Assuming. Overthinking. If the truth was known, where would it lead him?

Both hands gripped both sides of the bathtub. The moonlight through curtains bathed most of the room, making the reddish liquid seem darker. Matched with dilated pupils. Once someone asked “Is it blood or wine?”

He never answered it.

“Father. May I arise with your guidance, your wisdom. Open my eyes to the unknown, let me see what has been hidden from me.”

The self made cut along the palm of his hand through praying made him release a brief grunt, his own blood dripping into the darker water.

He sank.

[ ... ]

It felt like a blurry dream, only that he was allowed to take his own path. Surrounded by nothing, but blackness, Michael found himself stepping forward. Aimlessly. It wasn’t the sight that would lead him, but the feeling inside his chest. One hand held up, slightly, as if attempting to prevent himself from bumping into something — nothing. It was the brief yet remarkable sound of a whimper that caught his attention seconds later. From behind. Turning on his heels, he was caught off guard by the sight of himself on his knees, holding a smaller body on his lap. The other boy in agony choked on his own blood.

Walking around the scene, he caught the glimpse of the boy’s face. A younger-looking Michael Langdon laid out, being chased by death. The current Langdon, watching both versions of himself, found himself confused. Shown in the way his eyebrows furrowed.

“Take me.” A lighter tone, drowning in pain. Blues widened almost innocent-alike. It wasn’t innocence, but fear in the younger one. “to the house. With you. Forever.”

The view changed within the blink of an eye, and he was struck by the same pain in its fullest. Worse than the pain which didn’t let him sleep at mornings or had his paranoia carrying along. It was surrow, in its truest nature, blooming with loss. Taken caught off guard, the older Langdon fell to his knees, mimicking the sight before him.

This time, it was him in the vision who found himself crying. Another Michael. Just the same way he looked currently, dressed with the same silk clothes. He held another body in his arms. It was no longer another young verse of himself, but a stranger. Something blocked out the sight of their face, no matter how hard he attempted to focus, he was only allowed to see their hair. Such a person gripped the other Michael’s clothes, a small gesture. They were bleeding out, also chased by death itself.

He rolled fingers into a fist against his chest as if it would erase the pain he felt and yet didn’t understand. It didn’t. That other Michael loved whoever they were and they mourned, cried in surrow. Shared pain which was interrupted by a softer tone reaching his ears, it came from the stranger. Barely a whisper. Feminine, young, lovingly. No words were caught. Another blink made him notice the vision of him was bleeding as well — and that they weren’t clinging to his clothes. It was the stranger’s hand burying a dagger into his chest.

Everything else faded.

[...]

“Michael.”

An known voice echoed in the room, but the young male found himself too occupied catching his breath to acknowledge it, leaning against the side of the bathtub. His friend hunched down, worry in his tone within the same second he helped him out. “What did you see?”

He wasn’t certain about it.

“Someone’s death.” Langdon spoke between breaths, the effect of the spell had forced his true nature out, dilated eyes cast by darkness, highlighted veins beneath, scars that erased the sight of a youthful beauty. “And mine.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #cody fern #michael langdon imagine #duncan shepherd #ahs fandom #michael langdon x you #ahs apocalypse #ahs fic #writing #duncan shepherd imagine #michael langdon fic

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

A Tale of Two Poe’s

Poe Dameron x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: AU where Poe Dameron and Edgar Allan Poe both exist in the Star Wars universe. Reader finds a book containing the writings of Edgar Allan Poe and just can’t wait to show her Poe.

A/N: This is a purely self indulgent fic lmao 😂 this AU idea where Poe Dameron and Edgar Allan Poe exist in the same universe came into my head a while back and I just had to write it. Idk if it’s weird or not but I enjoyed writing it lmao- also obviously credit goes to Edgar Allan Poe for all his stories and poem excerpts I use. @writefightandflightclub and @sergeantkane are definitely my go to for Poe fics if you’re curious and they always inspire me to write more for Poe but- there are so many other amazing writers for Poe too. I’ll have to make a fic rec list for him soon. This also is my second fic for my 1000 follower celebration!!! I want to thank you all so much again, this is so surreal!! Thanks for reading and requests are open!!

Warnings: Uhh- a sexual innuendo & talk of death in the war I think that’s it...

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.2k

The amount of bookstores that were left in the galaxy was such a small and minuscule number, most people just used their data pads to read, that is if they read anything at all. It was such a shame, in your opinion. No data pad could truly recreate the magic of a physical book.There was nothing better than opening a book, new or old, the parchment smell wafting around under your nose as you fully enveloped yourself in the words on the page.

You had stopped in at the old library after you had completed a routine information pick up for the resistance. The planet you were on was the beautiful Naboo and you had a couple hours to kill before your partner, Poe came with his x-wing to pick you up. The little vintage book store stood out in the ethereal metropolis of the big city, and you were instantly drawn to it.

When you entered the little shop it was filled wall to wall with books, you had never seen so many books in your life before. Personally, you only had three that you kept on top of your small dresser that you put the small amount of clothes in. They weren’t interesting books to say the least, mostly consisting of military procedurals from your early days in the academy, besides one novel written on a planet far away called Earth named “A tale of two cities”. The book shop made you want to take all of them back to base and read every leisure novel you could ever want to read. However, there was no real time and you didn’t have the money to take all the books home with you, so you settled on picking one that really grabbed your attention.

The book that caught your eye was a black hard cover, so thick because of how many pages it held that you could barely hold it in one hand. The spine said “The complete collection of stories and poems by Edgar Allan Poe” and just by flipping through it a little you gathered that it must have also been written on the planet Earth, just like your one other novel. You loved the other novel and you knew that you were definitely going to bring this book home, even if you didn’t enjoy it at least you could tease Poe about the shared name. But, you had a feeling you were going to enjoy it.

You opened the book to another random page written by the person who held a similar name to your man and landed on a page that had a poem by the name of Annabel Lee. Poems were not something that were often seen in the galaxy anymore, even on the data pads that everyone used. They had fallen into obscurity as a form of literature that was obsolete and pointless.

The poem instantly had you hooked just in the first few lines, it was definitely a sad poem, as you suspected the rest were as well. But, the beautiful well written rhymes seduced you like the sirens you had heard about from Ahch-To. Though, Rey had told you the Thala-sirens were not nearly as beautiful as the myths would have you believe. Realizing that you were getting tight on time you rushed to check out the book, you didn’t want to worry Poe. Once you had paid the kind older lady who ran the shop you ran quickly out to your rendezvous point where Poe was already anxiously waiting.

“Kriff- there you are, I was worried something had happened to you.” His eyes were a bit frantic looking and hair disheveled. he had undoubtedly been looking around for you in worry while running his hands through his hair and had been pacing. Poe needed to learn to relax every once and awhile, he was often an overworrier and was often overworked.

“I’m only a few minutes late, relax. I just had to pick up a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise? What is it?” He reached to grab the parcel that the book had been wrapped in by the owner of the shop. You swiftly pulled the package away from him, you wanted it to be a surprise for later, when you both could relax.

“Hands off- I’ll show you later, be patient.” His indignant sigh only caused you to roll your eyes while you both climbed into the x-wing, with you sitting on Poe’s lap. He was so dramatic sometimes. Maybe, someday you’d get to come back to the bookshop on Naboo to get some more books, with hopefully Poe in tow next time.

—-

When we got back to base you were vibrating with excitement in anticipation of showing Poe the book that had an author with the same name as him. Throughout the entire briefing with Leia she could probably tell that my mind was in a far off place, almost like you still had my head stuck in the book. When she’d finally dismissed you after you had gone through the mission debriefing I bolted to our shared quarters. Once you had gone in the fresher for a quick wash and got dressed for the night you hopped in your small bed that you shared with Poe, but not before grabbing the new book you had added to your collection.

“Come to bed, I’ve got something for you.” You said as soon as Poe got through the door. He always had to check in with the main mechanic that worked on his x-wing right after he came home on a mission, it was the only way he would ever let anyone touch black one.

“Oh? Is it that surprise you were talking about earlier?” His signature cheeky smile that he flashed you while he stripped off his flight suit let you know immediately what he assumed the surprise was.

You threw his pillow he used at him, then accosted him playfully,“It’s not what you think it is you horndog, I’ve got a book for you.”

“A book? You know I don't know how to read.” You wished that you had a third pillow to throw at him in that moment, but you didn’t want to lose your own pillow. There had been many times in your relationship where Poe had stolen your pillow to mess with you and you weren’t about to give him the upper hand.

“Shut it, I’ll read it to you, you big baby.” He was now dressed in your favorite ensemble besides his flight suit, a white tank top, boxers, and nothing else.Patting the bed right next to you, you finally got him to come over to you. He sank down next to you on the bed, making sure to immediately cuddle up into you, you then spoke again,“But, before I do I want you to see what the Author’s name was.”

Handing him over the hardcover he looked at the name on the spine with furrowed brows, then letting out a breath of laughter once he read the Author’s last name. He didn’t read often like he had joked earlier, but he definitely could read the big gold leaf cursive letters that said, Edgar Allan Poe. “Woah, that’s cool. He would’ve been cooler if he had Poe for his first name though.” In response to another cheeky comment from him I bonked him on the head with the book before I started to read, “It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.” As you lilted your voice through the poem you could feel Poe sinking down further into relaxation, which was good since he hardly ever relaxed. He was always on the move all the time because of his vast responsibilities as a commander in the resistance. To be honest, you could do with some more relaxation like this in your life, just you, Poe, and a charging BB-8. You must have paused for a second with your reading because Poe looked up at your with his deep caf colored eyes in question, prompting you to continue, “The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. — why are you crying?”

A few small tears had welled up in the corners of Poe’s eyes with one spilling over to run down his scruff covered cheeks. He sniffled a bit, wiping away the tears before speaking, “Just reminded me of you and how much I love you. I don’t like thinking about you dying, I don’t think I could survive.”

Your heart broke a little, but also felt filled with the feeling of love. You knew there were even more dark times ahead in the war, you had both even had a conversation of what would happen if one of you passed. You even had letters that were to be read by the other if something were to happen. Even though you had discussed this before, you agreed with Poe, you never wanted to think about what the galaxy would be like without him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth him a bit. You felt a little bad that you had not realized how much it might affect Poe, so you decided to shift the subject to something that hit less close to home, “I’ll read something a bit different. They’re all dark, but I’ll pick one that you’ll enjoy more.”

You then began to read the Cask of Amontillado, which was a story that you both could relate to personally less which meant you could both fully enjoy the story.

“You were right, I liked that one.” He took the book from your hands to inspect the black book further, “How old is this book?”

“I don’t know, probably pretty old. I’ll have to take extra good care of it.”

“Yeah, just as long as that doesn’t become your favorite Poe in your life.” Poe’s signature cheeky grin was back on his face, then tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours.

“Ok, Edgar.” A wide cheeky smile was now on your face, proud of your ‘clever’ new nickname for Poe.

“No no no that nickname better not stick.”

“But- your hair looks so similar to his! Look at all those dark messy curls! I’m keeping the nickname.” You flipped to one of the earlier pages of the book that had a short biography at the front about the author with a print of a portrait of the author. His expression soured once he looked at the portrait, realizing that his curls did in fact, look like the Author’s. He let out a fake disgruntled sigh that did a horrible job of hiding his underlying happiness and flopped down back on the bed to cuddle up with you for the night.

The entire resistance was confused why you had started calling Poe, Edgar whenever you wanted to tease him. But, you guys kept the secret of the tale of two Poe’s, the only people who knew the origins of the nickname were you and your Poe. The nickname definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

—-

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Poe Dameron/SW:

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

intermission • v | moonshine

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. jihope + seokjin) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: homoerotic tension (?), delulu shippers, seokjin is a nosy motherfucker (as per usual) → words: 7.3K → a/n: it’s been,, ten million years,, sorry to my fox rain readers but let’s just say my brain has been a smoothie for a while but now!! it is still a smoothie but perhaps a little chunkier ;w; anyway, we love jihope in this household,, and seokjin,, is seokjin,, we love him too

— • masterlist | prev | intermission v | next • —

In a small studio apartment somewhere close to your university campus, notoriously handsome and oh-so-talented Kim Seokjin wakes up in cold sweat, his heart beating a mile a second and a chill running down his spine. “There’s been a disturbance in the force,” he mutters lowly to himself, a drop of sweat making its way down his razor-sharp jaw.

He had been in the midst of a wondrous dream wherein he, the universe’s protagonist, was being showered with praise and adoration after the sensational debut of his autobiographical documentary. Men and women alike were at his feet, peppering his heaven-sent toesies with the worship that he deserves. Everyone was there, even you had been there, his self-declared rival! But just as you were about to reach the head of the line, lips puckered and ready to go, Seokjin was ripped away from his kissies without warning.

You, of course, were not the reason for his mind-bending, earth-shattering, cock-jizzing premature arousal from his slumber. No –– Kim Seokjin does not wake up prematurely, for every moment of his life is a beacon of perfection. Only events of the most catastrophic order were able to wake him up from his slumber, so whatever cosmic force caused him to awaken must’ve been no joke. He had to take this seriously, as it might mean thousands of lives were at stake.

Seokjin jumps to his feet with a flourish, his entire body oozing grace, so much so that it would make any grown ballerina cry. He rushes to unplug his phone from its charger, unlocking it and immediately going to search through his social media accounts. As he scans through the tweets and posts, his well-trained eye sifts through the dreary and the mundane, his only intent to find whatever it is that might forewarn him of a natural disaster.

His follower count is stable. His engagement graphs show that his posts are at an all-time high. To any other novice, this might have been a sign that his gut feeling had been nothing but a fluke. Surely, nothing is wrong in the universe? But no, Seokjin is not some mere amateur! He wouldn’t be as successful at being a prick celebrity social media influencer if he didn’t have the reflexes that he did. He has to keep searching and pick out any little thing that might indicate that something was amiss.

It takes a hot minute (three hours to be exact) for Seokjin to find it, but he does. And oh, his intuition had been right: this was a level nine catastrophe. To give you an understanding of what that might mean, then here’s some context to scale: a level eight catastrophe would be if you ever found that he might have had a crush on you when you first met each other; a level ten catastrophe would be if Kim Seokjin lost all his followers overnight and was forced to relinquish his title as an Instagram baddie. So yes, level nine was dire, if not almost life-threatening.

The evidence?

...

To the untrained eye, it might look like nothing. But to a delulu devoted JiHope stan? This was a living nightmare.

Oh god, the signs are all there! The context, the timestamps, the emojis… They all made sense in Seokjin’s complicated maze of a mind. Like a seasoned detective, he’s able to connect all the dots to make a valid hypothesis that yes, JiHope is in danger of breaking up*.

[Addendum: Please note that JiHope has never dated before. Kim Seokjin is a lunatic and the constraints of reality do not apply to those of his kind. Please read the rest of this report with that in mind. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

“FUCK!” he exclaims (with feeling), dropping to his knees as he cries (with feeling). The signs are all there: something is causing a rift between his two favorite homos* from staying together and he, as the chosen one, must do something to save them before it’s too late.

[Addendum: Well, technically he’s right, but Jimin is bisexual at the very least, but that’s a matter of semantics… But that’s pretty much as “factual” as Kim Seokjin is ever going to get, so let’s take that as a blessing. Noted by: Min Yoongi (again).]

He can’t jump headfirst into this madness, however. He needs a plan; not only did it need to be foolproof, but it also had to be undeniably fabulous and downright heinous. Seokjin never did see himself as the morally right hero from those dreary Marvel comic books despite the allure of their skintight spandex and ostentatious capes. No–– Seokjin is of a higher calling, one where the hero needs to pull his dirtiest tricks in order to save the day.

Which is why Seokjin finds no error in his ways when he decides to stalk Jimin and Hoseok throughout their day, trying to pinpoint which clogs in his JiHope machine need oiling and lubing.

Nothing is ever too much for Kim Seokjin. In fact, he’ll go out of his way to follow them to their homes if he has to, but luckily (for Jimin and Hoseok), he doesn’t need to go that far. In fact, it’s a downright fucking miracle that his intuition from this morning had been correct, made apparent by hour ten (10) of his stalking misadventures:

It’s nearing five in the afternoon. Kim Seokjin’s patience and determination has been put to the test before, but never like this. He could never ever imagine himself setting foot in this damned place, what with its overflowing abundance of knowledge, nerds, and public displays of integrity. He nearly gagged the moment he took one step in the library, and not even the thought of seeing Jimin and Hoseok together was enough to settle the bile climbing up his throat.

To make matters worse, you were there too. Not that Seokjin particularly cares (he does) that you are, but there is something… annoying about seeing you just sitting there, teaching Hoseok like it was normal*.

[Addendum: It is fucking normal. As per usual, Kim Seokjin is a dipshit who has never worked a day in his life and does not understand the notion of helping others study for their courses. To this day, I can’t understand how he’s passing his classes, though I’m kind of afraid of finding out how. Some things are better left… unsolved. Noted by: Min “I’m-not-paid-enough-for-this” Yoongi.]

He had been busy following Jimin around before this, but he was forced to change targets when one of his adoring fans had distracted him while asking for an autograph, causing him to lose track of Jimin entirely. It was of little consequence, however, given that he knows that Jimin was also going to be tutored by you later on anyway, so he just hopes that Jimin doesn’t do something stupid while he’s out of sight for the time being.

Normally, he’d try to find out where Jimin was going next, but the hardest part about following Jimin is that he didn’t have a fixed schedule like Hoseok did. Even Seokjin didn’t quite understand what Jimin was majoring in, and he prides himself in knowing every single detail of both their lives. But for now, it didn’t matter; at least Seokjin was left with one schedule to follow, so it made sense to just let Jimin be and go to wherever Hoseok was probably at the moment.

When Seokjin had finally located him walking out of his last class, Hoseok hadn’t appeared all that different from his usual demeanor. A bit dazed maybe, but that could be brushed off due to the essay he had to cram for that morning (a fact that Seokjin had learned through various connections). He walks lazily to the nearby library where he would be meeting you, and with a heavy heart, Seokjin follows suit.

You were already there when the two of them arrive. Seokjin is lucky when your eyes train automatically on Hoseok, ignoring him completely. In any other scenario, Seokjin would’ve felt incredibly scorned by this. He would’ve immediately stomped over to where you sat, making sure to announce his presence to you and everyone else within a fifty-foot radius. But today was not an ordinary day, so Seokjin is forced to hold his tongue and save his bitchin’ for another day. And so, he quietly slinks away to a seat a few tables away, his contemptuous aura causing all the previously seated students to vacate the table in a rush.

Much to his chagrin, it feels like Seokjin has just wasted an hour as he watches the two of you being productive (Seokjin lets out a shudder), not even bothering to film your tutoring session due to how little information he was getting. The only point of interest is how pissed off you seem, though it’s not like Seokjin has ever witnessed you in any other state anyway. He watches as Hoseok’s sunny disposition slowly chips away at your foul mood, and to his awe and surprise, sees you crack a smile just as the hour was about to pass.

It isn’t like that was important to Seokjin, though. So what if he noticed that you were happier with Hoseok around? It’s not every day that Seokjin catches you in a good mood (and he reluctantly admits that it’s always nice to see you smiling, even if his presence unfailingly causes a deep-set frown to appear on your lips.)

That was of little importance, he told himself.

Seokjin had hoped that when Hoseok’s tutoring session would end that he might manage to see him and Jimin cross paths. Unfortunately, it seems like Hoseok has other plans as he quickly shuffles his things into his bag, looking apologetic as he waves a hasty goodbye to you. You and Seokjin gaze at the empty spot he has left in his wake, both of you knowing even without Hoseok’s admittance that this rift between him and Jimin was far deeper than either of you had imagined.

Seeing Hoseok so skittish has a terrible effect on one’s psyche, and Seokjin feels despair growing in the pit of his stomach at what might be an unsalvageable situation for the JiHope community.

“Nonsense!” his inner-voice (that suspiciously sounds like you) chastises, whacking him with a proverbial rolled-up newspaper. “There is no such thing as unsalvageable when it comes to the magnificent Kim Seokjin!”

“You’re right,” Seokjin says (out loud), slamming his fists on the table. The jittery librarian’s assistant by the front desk jumps up in surprise, but Seokjin pays him no mind.

Seokjin is so immersed by his own internal monologue that he doesn’t notice the aforementioned librarian’s assistant leave his station with a small handwritten note clutched tightly in his hand. Seokjin also doesn’t notice when he speaks to you with pink dusting the apples of his cheeks before returning to his desk, sans note*.

[Addendum: I’M SO MAD WHY DOESN’T ANYONE NOTICE FUCKING JUNGKOOK??? NEXT TIME I SEE SEOKJIN IT’S ON FUCKING SIGHT HOW DARE HE NOT SEE MY LIL BABY WALK TO HIS ***** AND FULFIL ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS? I’M GONNA KILL YOU KIM SEOKJIN! (Angrily) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to arrive, and he’s kind of hard to miss with how loud his entrance is. Seokjin nods in approval as the younger enters the drab library with an astounding flourish, complete with his hair gently flowing in the (nonexistent) wind and hips swaying to the (nonexistent) beat.

None of this out of the ordinary, especially with how unfazed the general library populace was to Jimin’s commotion. What is a little different, however, is the beaming, oversaturated, downright diabetic smile on his face, complete with his signature eyes creased into their cute little crescents.

It isn’t that Jimin wasn’t a naturally sunny person; on the contrary, his kind and gregarious personality is what drew Seokjin into shipping him with Hoseok in the first place. But there was something about this level of overflowing giddiness that is a bit… disconcerting, for lack of a better word.

Even you appeared to be dumbstruck by Jimin’s odd mood. You squint curiously at Jimin, taking his worksheets from his hands without another word. Seokjin covertly takes out his phone to pretend to take a selfie, but proceeds to tape the whole tutoring session for him to review later that night. He strains his ears to try and catch the bits and pieces of your conversation with Jimin, but he’s left high and dry when he realizes that you were the type who actually liked to whisper at the library, further foiling his plans.

“Dammit,” he mutters to himself, hastily shoving his “textbooks” into his sling bag as he moves to a table slightly closer to the two of you. He doesn’t bother unpacking them again on the table, foregoing the pretense that he was actually there to “study” when in fact he had goals much loftier than those of an ordinary university student.

He carefully adjusts his camera, trying his best to stay out of your and Jimin’s view. He cranes his head forward as far as he can, face crumpling (handsomely) from the strain.

Seokjin had missed it when he was busy relocating to his better position, but it seems like you had finally gotten fed up with Jimin’s strange behavior. He only sees Jimin look shocked by your irritability, but that quickly fades away as his previously dopey smile comes back at full force. Knowing you, your eye is probably twitching right now, but Seokjin attributes that to the stick permanently stuck up your ass.

“It’s, umm…” Jimin looks extremely bashful all of a sudden, and Seokjin makes sure to zoom in on his face for better analysis later. There’s a slight pause, and both you and Seokjin wait for Jimin to continue. “Do you know… uh…” He takes a deep breath, blushing all the while. “Y/N, you know Lee Sera, right?”

Since you’re faced away from Seokjin, he doesn’t get to see what type of reaction you might be sporting on your face. He has a guess though, and that’s mostly because he already knows what Lee Sera means to you.

Seokjin only just saw the forum post this morning when he was going through his social media. Since he was one of the only people who actually knew you were the author, he’d known from the get-go that Lee Sera had probably written that post revealing herself as the author as a way to get easy clout. Nothing annoyed Seokjin more than people getting more famous than him, so he was honestly a strongly-worded call-out post away from revealing the truth to the masses, but was eventually stopped by the thought of your desperate face from days ago.

As much as Seokjin was a slut for drama, even he isn’t that mean. He can be mean in other ways, such as by putting an ugly filter on your face as he continues to videotape you without your consent. Case in point:

“What?” you say, almost shouting. Unbeknownst to you, there is a pooping baby currently superimposed on your forehead. The film looks shaky at best, but that’s all because of how hard Seokjin is shaking from trying not to laugh.

“Do you know if she likes anyone?” he replies, still dreamy. The AR pooping baby is also on his head, but Jimin manages to pull the look off.

Seokjin waits for your explosion to come, but he underestimates your self-control because he completely misses the next few words you say from how calmly and quietly you speak, though he only imagines that you must be on the way to a mental breakdown soon enough.

The calm before the storm, Seokjin thinks giddily to himself. He could always post your mental breakdown on Youtube for a couple thousand views. C’mon… let’s go viral, baby!

Jimin watches you eagerly from the sides and waits for your response, but you’re too busy short-circuiting right in front of him to give one. Seokjin almost feels sorry for you, but he’s too busy trying not to burst into laughter as it is. God, you’re such a fucking sad mess.

Lucky for you, your timer goes off to signal the end of your tutoring session, and Seokjin notices the way your shoulders slacken with relief. And Jimin seems to have forgotten all about his query because he’s started to pack his things already, humming softly to himself. Once he finishes, he pulls out his phone to read something on his screen, tapping away through his social media as he waits for you to say goodbye.

You’re too busy packing away your own things that you don’t notice when Jimin’s eyes begin to bug out, his mouth dropping and his nostrils flaring with the intensity of his breathing. When he scrolls a little bit further down, he lets out a sharp gasp, catching you and Seokjin off guard.

Jimin has just seen the post, didn’t he? Either that, or he saw porn on his timeline, though Seokjin doesn’t think that would excite Jimin as much as the former would. You seem to guess the same, judging by how stiff you become at his exclamation.

“Y/N! Y/N, she–– she’s––!”

Your fight or flight instincts activate, and Seokjin has to scramble after you as you powerwalk out of the library, desperate to get away from Jimin and his revelation. Unfortunately, you’re not entirely in your best shape right now, so it would be an absolute miracle if you were ever to outpace Park “abs of steel” Jimin. Jimin continues to titter beside you, unaware of the waves of tension running rivers down your form.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she? And she’s so humble to have kept quiet about the whole thing, too. Wah, she’s so…” Seokjin hears Jimin say, and he has to stop himself from snorting at how blatantly love blind Jimin seems to be. Seokjin isn’t anywhere near as good as you when it comes to writing (though he hates to admit it), but even he knows that Lee Sera isn’t as capable as you are. Jimin must really be a sucker for bitches in tight skirts and basic nude pumps because honestly… Why have the knock-off when you can have real Gucci?*

[Addendum: Hey it’s me again… Just wanted to say… Why is Seokjin lowkey kinda making me wanna ship him with Y/N… This is for real weird… Stop this… I’m scared… Noted by: Confused Min Yoongi.]

“I never really paid it much attention, but now that I’m rereading the poem… she’s so talented.” Jimin continues to gush, and you look half a second away from painting the walls with your vomit. Your head is bowed, so you don’t notice when the library doors open and a student in a loose white shirt and flowy black pants enters, looking as far removed from the environment as Seokjin did. “It’s no wonder it blew up so much, she’s such a gifted––”

“Who’s such a gifted what?” the new intruder asks. Kim Taehyung stops right in front of you in all his indie glory, and the sudden apparition of another of one of your “muses” must have frayed your unraveling mind even further. Seokjin is already turning his camera to your face with a dramatic pan left zoom, the pooping baby filter still on your head. It slips a turd onto your grimacing face.

Jimin, ever the sweet himbo, has already forgotten about you and instead rushes over to Taehyung with the news. “Tae! The author of that poem you’re always raging about––”

Seokjin watches with interest as Taehyung elbows Jimin strongly in the gut, a strong blush coating his cheeks.

Jimin continues, undeterred. “The author of the poem, it’s Lee Sera! I know I always ignored you when you talked about it, but now…” Seokjin has already stopped listening in favor of watching the way Taehyung’s expression slowly morphs from bashful embarrassment to careful indifference. His eyebrows raise even further when Taehyung’s gaze sweeps towards you, unwavering despite the animated prattlings of his best friend beside him.

Inch-resting… Inch-resting indeed…

Seokjin leaves then, not wanting to be caught by any of you as he slinks away unseen. He stops his recording, an array of thoughts swimming through his head as he tries to piece together the puzzle in front of him. He’ll need to follow you, Jimin, and Hoseok again, and he knows in the pit of his stomach that the tsunami is fast approaching.

x x x x x

And so, Seokjin follows the three of you around like a parasite, waiting for any of you to drop the ball on him. It’s the next Monday now, and he’s still not any closer to witnessing the “climax” of his JiHope prophecy. While he is aware that Lee Sera is undoubtedly going to be the catalyst for breaking his ult ship, he can’t exactly fix the problem unless something wrong happens first.

Of course, he could always slip a laxative into Sera’s disgusting tummy tea when she isn’t looking, but Seokjin finished using all of them up when he slipped them into your breakfast a few weeks ago. Plus, drinking tummy tea is punishment enough, so he’ll hold his punches for now.

Seokjin has a strong feeling that today is going to be the day where something finally shifts. He doesn’t know why he thinks this, though he likes to tell himself it’s a God-given gift of JiHope senses, but he digresses.

He’s starting to lose hope in his trusty JiHope senses, however, when he watches another fruitless tutoring session between you and Hoseok. Man, if not for the fact that Seokjin was a delulu JiHope shipper, he’d totally be the type to shove Hoseok down the toilet in middle school. That dude… he’s too smart and studious for him, and Seokjin is always threatened by anyone who can get a score above 4 in an exam.

Hoseok leaves in a rush as per usual, and Seokjin has since figured out that it wasn’t because the English major was keen on rushing back home to jack off. Hoseok’s eyes search around frantically as he exits the library, like he’s afraid of running into a certain someone. It causes Seokjin’s grip on his pencil prop to tighten, so much so that he snaps it in half when he sees it happen for the third session in a row.

The situation in the JiHope fandom is much worse than he can ever imagine, and Seokjin resolves himself to fix it no matter what. He’ll even ask you for help, if worst comes to worst.

Hoseok practically leaves a dust trail in his wake, hurriedly vacating the premises just as you say goodbye. Just as Hoseok leaves, Jimin enters the scene with his signature bubbly laughter echoing through the rows of shelves. Seokjin turns his head towards the sound, but he can feel something is amiss already. There’s… someone with him.

I can smell the cheap drug store perfume all the way from here. Seokjin sneers to himself, crinkling his nose as the sound of another pair of footfalls confirms his suspicions right away. When he turns to look at you, the look of utter rage and disbelief on your face is almost enough to make him forget about the horrendous stench of Lee Sera.

Sera tears herself away from Jimin when she catches sight of you, and Seokjin’s heart clenches when he sees the utter look of confusion replacing the grin on Jimin’s face. She was just draped over Jimin’s arm a few seconds ago, but the complete 180 definitely must have bewildered the poor lovesick fool.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lee Sera craved the attention she was being given after coming out as the “author” of the poem, though Seokjin finds her neediness distasteful. As someone who loved being in the limelight, Seokjin didn’t go around taking other people’s credit for his success! Clearly, he was the better one (as he always is in any situation).

Anyway, point stands: you look like you’re about to shit yourself from anger. Seokjin isn’t really listening to the conversation between the two of you, instead focusing on both of your body languages. Sera is playing the role of the remorseful peasant, begging for reconciliation from you, the ireful landlady who refuses to watch another second of her quivering lip.

It’s all very dramatic. Even though Seokjin is mostly recording the fight for analysis purposes, he’s probably going to keep the video for archival purposes as well. The rage, the hurt, the chaos… Seokjin could turn this entire narrative into its own wildly popular musical! He would obviously play himself as the omnipotent, all-seeing jack-of-all-trades, and you’d probably be played by some hag he can cast from the street. Seokjin can almost feel the Tony award jutting up his ass.

Slap! Seokjin jerks to attention and his dreams of his musical fade as he watches, slack-jawed, at the aftermath of your rage. The sound reverberates so loudly that Seokjin feels his ears ringing. In his surprise, he instinctively turns off his camera, ready to go and join stop the fight. Before he can take a step forward, however, a whirlwind shoves past him in a blur, but Seokjin already knows from his lean form that Hoseok had come to intervene. Seokjin hadn’t even noticed the lilac-haired boy was still around the library, but it doesn’t matter now that he’s here to save the day like the bishounen protagonist that he is.

Hoseok holds you back, but it does nothing to quell your anger. “How could you say that to him!” you cry, arms struggling to free themselves from Hoseok to throttle Sera. You look a bit like a rabid animal, teeth bared as you squirm in Hoseok’s hold.

To the side, Jimin chokes up in silence. He’s begun to regain his senses, limbs shifting as he prepares to escape. Seokjin doesn’t miss the shine in his eyes, tears forming and threatening to fall. He turns on his feel, high-tailing out of there without another word.

Hoseok says something into your ear and you nod mindlessly in response. He lets you go, watches as you chase after Jimin. His jaw is set, fists clenched by his sides, but he doesn’t make a move to follow. He takes one last look at Sera’s bamboozled expression, tuts angrily to himself, and walks away in the opposite direction.

Seokjin is speechless.

What the fuck was that? Seokjin isn’t a stranger to the current happenings of your sad love heptagon, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It probably could have been solved much sooner if you just confessed to him already, but he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the drama*.

[Addendum: She literally does not have a crush on Seokjin. If she did, I’d block her immediately. I didn’t raise Y/N for her to fall in love with this psychopath. PLEASE. Signed: Min Yoongi.]

No, Seokjin isn’t confused about the whole Sera thing. What he’s more confused about is why Hoseok isn’t going to comfort his boyfriend lover homie like he’s supposed to! Something must have caused a rift in their friendship, and Seokjin is determined to find out and fix this mess once and for all! There’s no need to fear for Seokjin is here!*

[Addendum: “Hallelujah!” said no one ever. I hate this dude. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

x x x x x

After spending an inexcusable amount of time planning and plotting later that night, Seokjin comes to campus early the next day to put his incredibly profound plan into motion. Lucky for Seokjin, he’s equipped with a myriad of skills that go beyond that of acting and being a nuisance, so it comes as no surprise that he’s quite handy with Photoshop. He uses his Amazing Incredible Fantastic Photoshop skillz to their limits to print out a dozen or so fake posters for a new dance exhibition on Saturday.

Why? Because Seokjin is a genius of course! He knows for certain that Jimin will want to attend the exhibition to cheer himself up after the whole Sera debacle. He always did like watching the university’s dance club from the windows, always wistfully looking but never joining even though he COULD dance if he WANTED to but of course he wouldn’t! Because his beloved Hoseokie-hyung wouldn’t be there to be his partner and it’s all very sad and romantic, yadayadayada… Long story short, Seokjin is whipped for this BL trope and he will die on this hill if he has to!

However, Hoseok is going to be a bit harder to bait... He’d never be caught dead attending a dance exhibition, so Seokjin has to scavenge the last remaining brain cells he has to think of an event that Hoseok would want to go to. He settles on making a fake poster for a book signing by Pi Ness Hughman that is “mandatory” for all English Literature majors to attend. He even goes the whole way and makes a spoof e-mail to send to Hoseok, and no, Seokjin will not be explaining how he did that because he might be bordering on being a criminal, but that doesn’t mean he wants other people to be criminals too. That’s just how great of a person he is!

And what does any of this have to do with anything? Well… He’s going to lock them together inside a classroom and hope that they solve their differences there. Is Seokjin certain that his plan is going to work? Not at all. Is it more likely to use this as an excuse to get inspiration for his upcoming 100K slow burn enemies to lover fic that he’s been planning on starting? Absolutely.

Point of the matter is that Team Kim Seokjin never loses, and he’ll still end up on top even if everything goes to shit, and that is honestly all that matters.

Seokjin proceeds with his plan, going as smoothly as he can. He places the posters around areas that he is sure the duo would pass by. He also makes sure to accidentally “misplace” other posters and advertisements on the cork board that might serve as distractions, but you didn’t hear that from him. He watches stealthily from the shadows, carefully keeping track of their movements to make sure that they see the posters and that everything goes according to keikaku*.

[Addendum: Hey, it’s Yoongi again. I just wanted to say that I saw Seokjin when he was doing this because I caught him taking down some of the ads near my residence, and let me just say that his version of “making sure they see his fake posters” is literally just shoving the papers in their faces and then running away as soon as he can. So, I guess he did succeed on what he aimed to do, but was it moral? Was it just? Well, dear reader… I’m leaving that judgment up to you. (Tiredly) Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

It’s Saturday afternoon and Seokjin has just finished setting up his “trap” when he hears footsteps approaching where he was. He quickly jumps inside a nearby utility closet, keeping the door ajar to observe the upcoming interaction. Seokjin doesn’t even need to look to know that it’s Hoseok who has arrived first, always notoriously strict when it comes to scheduled meetings. He begins to worry, realizing belatedly that Jimin is the exact opposite of Hoseok when it comes to things like this, and while that makes for a good fanfic couple trope, it doesn’t really help Seokjin in this case.

He watches Hoseok peek into the classroom, brows scrunched in confusion as he must wonder why nobody seems to be at the supposed book signing. He snatches the poster from inside his satchel, squinting at the meeting details that should say that his class was supposed to meet at this very much abandoned classroom in the Law building. For how smart Hoseok is, he certainly didn’t question the sketchiness of the venue that Seokjin had chosen.

Hoseok taps his shoes against the linoleum floor, lips pursed as he debates on what to do. Just as Seokjin is about to blow his cover and just shove Hoseok into the classroom himself, a loud bang resounds from the end of the hall. They both flinch, looking over to see a head of red hair zooming towards them.

Jimin is dressed haphazardly in a ripped jean jacket and comically short shorts – you wouldn’t be able to tell what season it was based on his clothes alone. He looks like he’d just jumped out of bed, what with the noticeable drool stain still caked around his chin. He grinds to a halt in front of the classroom, breathing heavily through his mouth and still not yet aware of the company he has found himself with.

“Jimin? What the fuck?” Hoseok exclaims, staring incredulously at him. Jimin finally looks up, pausing in his heavy breathing to stare back.

He straightens up, pointing an accusing finger at the elder. “GASP! What are you doing here?”

Hoseok points his own finger. “Did you just say ‘gasp’ in real life?”

“I asked you first!”

“I asked you second!”

“Well,” Hoseok coughs awkwardly, gesturing to the empty classroom mindlessly. “I’m supposed to be here for a book signing, but I feel like I got a fake ad by accident.”

“Hah! Foolish of you,” Jimin snorts, nose high in the air. He procures his own fake poster from his short pockets, presenting it to Hoseok. “You must be Miss Steak Anne, because this classroom is supposed to be where a dance exhibition is being held. I knew you wanted to watch them dance! You’re just trying to cover up your embarrassment!”

“What?” Hoseok splutters, snatching the poster from his hands. He reads it, narrowing his eyes at Seokjin’s masterpiece of deception. “Dude. The poster is fake too. They spelled ‘dance’ like ‘dunce.’”

Jimin takes it back, slack-jawed when he sees that Hoseok was right. “What the fuck,” he says. He groans, smacking himself in the face. “I’m the foolish one now!”

Before Hoseok can retort, Seokjin chooses that moment to burst forth from his hiding place. “Hello, boys!” he greets, not waiting for a response. The two boys jump in surprise, but they don’t even have time to scream before Seokjin promptly shoves them into the classroom. He clicks the lock in place, grateful that he scouted this place during his first year in case he’d ever need somewhere to lock his unsuspecting classmates in*.

[Addendum: Me. It was me. He locked me in there when I told him JiHope was the worst ship on campus. Y/NKook for life! Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

“Hey! Let us out!” Jimin yells from behind the door, his tiny fists banging uselessly against the door. Seokjin cackles maniacally from the outside, doing a funny dance through the frosted glass window.

“Not until you guys fix whatever angst bullshit you have going on! I’ll be back in an hour. Until then, homos!” Seokjin singsongs, skipping away from the mess he created. But not to worry, dear readers, for Seokjin had planted microphones all over the classroom in advance so that we may all be privy to the ensuing drama/hotness courtesy of JiHope! Oh, how incredibly big-brained of him! The following is a transcript of the aforementioned recording because, as you know, Seokjin always wins.

Transcript by Min Yoongi:*

[Addendum: Paid-slash-blackmailed, by the way. I would never do this willingly. He knows too much about me… It’s sickening but also he offered to buy me chicken nuggets and I’d be an idiot to decline that. Anyway, here’s this pile of shit. Noted by: Min Yoongi.]

[0:00] *heavy banging from Jimin’s tiny baby fists*

[0:10] Jimin: Ugh, this shit BLOWS! *proceeds to stomp around like a baby before sliding to the ground with a thud*

[0:20] Hoseok: Well, it could be worse. We could have been kidnapped by a serial killer.

[0:25] Jimin: I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin categorizes as one, but go off.

[0:30] Hoseok: *grumbling* I’m just trying to lighten the mood.

[0:35] Jimin: Oh wow, thanks soooo much. This is all your fault, by the way. Can’t believe your dumbass got bamboozled by Seokjin.

[0:40] Hoseok: How the fuck is this my fault? You were fooled too! And will you stop sitting like that? I can see everything with how short your shorts are.

[0:45] Jimin: Oh, and now you’re going to police how I dress? Bitch, people would be honored to see my nuts! They’re prized nuts!

[0:50] Hoseok: *snorts* Sure, if you say so.

[0:55] *there is a short pause and you can hear Jimin’s heavy breathing* Jimin, mumbling: Taehyung says my nuts are great…

[1:00] Hoseok: Well, Taehyung is an idiot. He probably says that shit to everybody.

[1:05] Jimin: *gasps* TAKE THAT BACK! HE’S MY FUCKING SOULMATE!”

[1:10] Hoseok: Oh, he’s your soulmate, is he? Guess you like throwing that word around to just about anybody, huh? Because last time, I remember you calling me your soulmate!”

[1:15-6:15] *literally just five minutes of silence* *you can hear Jimin crying a little bit but it’s obvious he’s trying to hold it in* *Hoseok (?) or maybe Jimin is pacing around*

[6:20] Hoseok: I, uhh... *hesitates some more* I didn’t... Mean to say that.

[6:25] Jimin: *starts to laugh hysterically* Fuck…

[6:30] Jimin: *slams his tiny baby hand against the wall again* Fuck!

[6:35] Jimin, choking up: You didn’t mean to say what? That we really were soulmates? That we used to be best friends?

[6:40] Hoseok, quietly: Jimin... No, I meant––

[6:45] Jimin: What do you mean, huh? I can never understand you. You never explain yourself. It’s always a guessing game with you and I just end up getting my feelings hurt because I always make the wrong assumptions, isn’t that right?

[7:00] Hoseok, choking up: Of course not. You’re right, I’m stupid and––

[7:05] Jimin, yelling: That’s right! You are fucking stupid! You’ve been stupid since day one and I can’t believe I wanted to be friends with you! *sniffles loudly* And I’m even stupider for still wanting to be friends with you.

[7:20-7:30] *there is a long silence except for the sound of Jimin’s heavy sniffling*

[7:35] Hoseok, sighing: I know that I don’t deserve to be your friend. I’m ashamed. I’m so fucking ashamed. There isn’t a day where I don’t regret not telling you about giving up dance all those years ago. I should’ve been more open with you.

[7:50] *Jimin stops sniffling* Jimin: Yeah. You should’ve. You should be. Asshole.

[8:00] Hoseok: And every time I try telling myself that I should apologize, I’d just get cold feet. It got even worse when you started hanging around Taehyung more... And I just... Lost it.

[8:10] Jimin, laughing harshly: Oh? So you were fucking jealous? Please.

[8:15] Hoseok: It sounds childish, but yea. I was.

[8:20] Jimin, quietly: Oh.

[8:30] Hoseok: And then when I saw you hanging off of Sera’s stupid little finger like a lovesick fool, it... It really fucking messed me up.

[8:40] Jimin: Oh my god. Was that why you’ve been so moody these past few days? Holy shit.

[8:45] Hoseok: When you put it that way... Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I’m really not a feelings guy, you know? I’m always just supposed to be the happy-go-lucky sunshine guy.

[9:00] Jimin: You’re allowed to feel, you know? Get rid of that toxic masculinity bullshit you have going on. This is why we fucking drifted in the first place!

[9:10] Hoseok, laughing hoarsely: Yeah... You’re right. *sound of a body sliding down to the floor... Hoseok must have sat beside Jimin*

[9:30] Jimin: We are literally so stupid. Do you realize how dumb our arguments sound? We’re being so childish, and for what?

[9:40] Hoseok: *sighing* I know… I’m the asshole here. I know what I did and I’m the reason why our friendship shifted. I’ve never been considerate to you and now…

[9:50] Hoseok: You probably hate me. And I used to tell myself that it’s better that you moved on but I know the reason why you never applied for the dance program is because of me.

[10:00] Jimin: I mean, yeah. That’s true.

[10:05] Hoseok: Wait, the asshole part or…

[10:10] Jimin: Pretty much everything. Yes, you’re the asshole. Yes, you ruined our friendship. Yes, I didn’t apply for the dance program because of you.

[10:15] Hoseok: *sighing* And you probably hate me, right?

[10:20] Jimin, softer: No, of course not. I could never hate you, hyung. Hell, I thought you hated me! You never hang out with me anymore! I literally only started taking those tutoring lessons from Y/N so that I would have an excuse to see you sometimes.

[10:35] Hoseok: ...oh. I didn’t know… I guess I’ve been a little bit too self-absorbed.

[10:45] Jimin: Understatement of the century, hyung. I just fucking miss you, okay? *sniffles loudly* God, I am so sick of crying all the time! First that shit with Sera, and now this…

[10:55] Hoseok: *panicking* Shit! Jimin-ah, please don’t cry… I’m such a fuck up! Why do you even want to hang around me?

[11:05] Jimin: Don’t you get it? You’re my best friend! How could I just erase years of friendship over what? Just because you don’t wanna dance anymore? Listen, I know I always pester you to go dance with me again, but I’d be more than happy just having you as my friend. I don’t care about that shit anymore! I just want you to look at me without looking so fucking guilty all the time.

[11:35] Hoseok: Well… I still want to dance. All the time, believe me. But… I can’t go around wasting my time when I made a promise to my dad.

[11:45] Jimin, hesitantly: Your… your dad?

[11:50] Hoseok: Yeah. He told me it was his greatest wish if I followed in his footsteps and became a teacher… I’m sorry, Jimin. I couldn’t just let my old man down like that. I…

[12:00] Jimin: Oh my god. You idiot. You fucking dunce. You dick for brains.

[12:05] Hoseok: What the fuck? What did I do now?

[12:10] Jimin: Have you ever considered… that you could teach shit other than English? Huh?

[12:15] *Hoseok.exe has stopped working*

[12:20] Jimin: Oh my god! I have a fucking feeling your dad meant he just wanted to see you teach kids, not necessarily become an English teacher like he was! You fucking stupid piece of shit!

[12:30] Hoseok: I… literally didn’t think. How the fuck..?

[12:35] Jimin: Are you literally just telling me right now that we could’ve escaped 3 years of stupid misunderstanding if you just hadn’t been an idiot? Give me a break! How the hell do you think you’d ever become a teacher?!

[12:50] *there is a pause before the two of them start laughing loudly*

[13:00] Hoseok: Jesus. Guess I really am the asshole, huh?

[13:05] Jimin: You think? Ugh, maybe getting locked in a classroom with you isn’t so bad after all…

[13:10] Hoseok: Speaking of… When do you think Seokjin is gonna let us out of here? I kinda need to piss and as happy as I am to be your friend again, I don’t think I wanna relive our toddler years together either.

[13:20] Jimin: *snorts* Gross. *shuffling* Hyung! Stand here! I’m gonna climb you and try to open the latch to the window over there. Shouldn’t be that far of a jump. Then I’ll just open the door for you.

[13:40] Hoseok: Jimin, are you insane? That could be dangerous! Let me do it.

[13:50] Jimin: You and what? Your skinny ass? Please! Do you see the gloriousness of this ass? I can get us out of here in no time.

[14:00] Hoseok, whispering: Assuming you can even squeeze through the window…

[14:05] Jimin, yelling: EXCUSE ME? I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THIS ASS HAS WON ME MANY FREE MCDONALD’S HAPPY MEALS IN MY DAY––

End of Audio

x x x x x

Yoongi pauses from his typing to recheck the file, making sure he hadn’t accidentally paused the recording. When he sees that the audio does end there, he leans back into his chair, letting his headphones fall back to settle around his neck. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick text to Seokjin to ask what happened to the two stupid lovebirds.

288 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Imagine:

The reader is a best selling author and her book is about all her past lovers (Erik is one of them)

Smutty, Flashback, Dark

It’s hard writing Erik with a nickname besides killmonger so I am sorry in advance if his name pops up when it’s not supposed to LOL. Enjoy Loves!

Y/N was afraid to come out with this book but her team insisted that she did. They said it was one of her best works yet. Y/N did agree but there was one particular person in that book that she didn’t want to know about her writing. Y/N went along with it anyway because she needed the new book to do well since her royalties were getting low from other published works. That was over three months ago. Now, she was still doing interviews and signing autographs in New York and Los Angeles book shops. Her face was on TV, in magazines, and in Time Square in Manhattan, New York. He knew... he had to know.

Y/N’s book was an erotic tale about her past lovers. She gave each of them pseudonyms to protect their identities. The title was called Concupiscent. It means lustful or desire. This wasn’t like the poetry or erotic romance tales...this was very smutty and so nasty you couldn’t go a second without touching yourself. The fan mail she received was outstanding. Especially from the BDSM community. It was all thanks to him... F-16. He was the last chapter in her book filled with past lovers.

He was nicknamed F-16 because the one thing he told her was that he flew an F-16 Fighter Falcon Jet in the Military. His story got the most hits out of all of them. People were dying to know who F-16 was.

-I need F-16 in my life! He fucked you so well I could feel that shit myself!

-could you please share with me who F-16 is? He sounds so sexy.

-are you still in touch with F-16? If so you are a lucky woman, Y/N.

-F-16 fucked you real good!

-all of the chapters were amazing! Nothing surprising but that F-16!!! Girllllllllll I need more of him! Write an entire book with just him and I’d give you all my money!

-The book club loves the story! A lot of us reread F-16 while sipping our wine LOL. Very sexy chapter.

“You see, Erik, they can’t get enough of you,” Y/N spoke to herself within her penthouse while reading fan mail. She sipped her glass of red wine with enthusiasm. Y/N couldn’t deny the fact that she missed Erik deeply. It was just a one night stand but goddam...the shit needed to happen more than once. However, Erik was very secretive with his life. He was also very upfront and told her what he wanted: some pussy...

July 8th, 2019:

F-16.

She lived for nights thick with lust.

Angel Face wasn’t so much an angel anymore.

She yearned to be seduced and destroyed.

She was tired of delicate kisses and romantic evenings.

No...Angel Face wanted something harder; vicious even.

The Blaze was a rather chancy bar. Y/N sat on a bar stool on her fifth shot of Blue Sapphire Gin with her finger twirling a strand of her sleek silk pressed hair. Maybe she didn’t have enough to drink. She was already talking herself out of this mess. Her stomach did summer salts and her fingers fiddled with the hem of her short red mini halter dress. Such a slutty choice of attire. She nibbles the corner of her bottom lip as her amber-colored eyes scanned the bar for a potential man to take her home and fuck her hard and rapid. She didn’t want timid strokes, she wanted back-breaking strokes. Y/N needed a man who looked at her as she rested before him with her divine body exposed for him and thinks to himself, what kind of noises would I like her to make?

“OHHHH!”

Thunderous drunken applause came from Y/N’s right. She looked over at the small group with immense curiosity. A group of men that looked very hazardous and unsafe. Even the women who entertained them looked a little wary. They were all tall and muscular. Men who could snap your neck with a simple squeeze.

“Can I have another shot of Gin?” She asked the same punk rock bartender who gave her the last five she had.

“Foxy,” He nicknamed her since she settled at the bar, “You’ll pass out and I don’t want your pretty face on this bar.”

“I can handle it, trust me,” Y/N pleaded.

“Fine, I warned you.”

He poured her the shot she asked for.

Y/N threw it back and accepted the sweet burn.

“Whew,” she pinched her lips together, “That really hit the spot,” she let out a drunken giggle, her breasts bouncing.

“Foxy,” The punk rocker gave her a playful smile, “Are you alright?”

She gave him a goofy grin, “never better,” her words slurred slightly.

The Punk Rocker gave her a bottle of water, Y/N taking it thankful that the bartender was being thoughtful.

Y/N turns back around focusing on that corner again. There were dartboards on the wall and a pool table but instead of the men throwing darts they were throwing daggers. Y/N flinches in her seat. Sharp toys...spine-chilling. Her body felt hot all over. The alcohol seemed to make her hyper-aware of all the predatory eyes on her. All different types of men staring at her like a pack of wolves.

“You’re too delicate for this bar, Foxy.”

Y/N could agree with that but she was tired of that label. Why couldn’t she be risky and wild? Y/N was doing it now. That dance floor surrounded by low lighting was calling her name. She could twirl her hips and shake her ass into a sweaty frenzy. Finger comb her hair to show off her sex appeal, lock eyes with a man just to tease him and make him consider going to the urinal to buss a load. Bend over to show her lack of panties. Yes…she didn’t have on panties but she did bring a pair in her clutch just in case. Y/N could be heaven or hell. A strong man’s dream and a weak one's nightmare.

“That a boy F-16!”

Y/N’s eyes darted back over to the group of intimidating men, resting on whoever F-16 could be. She hoped this was him. He was honestly the only good-looking man in that bar. 6 ‘3, 225 lbs of lean muscle. He wore a tactical black utility vest, black long sleeve fitted henley, cargo pants in a black and grey camouflage pattern and black timbs.

“Watch out, Damion, I don’t wanna end up aiming for your head,” F-16 spoke while rotating a Kunai throwing knife in his hand. All eyes were on him in that moment to see if he would miss or actually hit the bullseye.

“Any day now, F16,” Damion rushes him while downing the rest of his beer. F-16 gave him a death glare before turning back to the dartboard, arm coming up and forward swiftly. The throwing knife whizzes past Damion, almost slicing the top of his ear and landing straight for the damn bullseye. The area exploded with cheers, yells, and ferocious pats on the back. The women clapped delicately while staring at F-16 with sultry eyes. Y/N could relate to those stares as well. He was...so damn...fine. However, if he was around those types of men that means he’s equally as dangerous.

Don’t do it, Y/N...

“Hey, could you watch my bag for me? I feel like dancing.”

The punk rock bartender squinted his eyes covered with black eyeliner, “alright, Foxy, don’t get yourself hurt out there.”

Y/N stepped off of the stool, giving the bartender a sassy look, “who would want to hurt all this?” Her hands trailed up and down her tantalizing body, “I mean...fuck it maybe, but hurt…”

“I think I underestimated you, Foxy,” The bartender gave her a sly grin.

Y/N swiveled around in her heels. She made her way through the wild crowd and to the dance floor. They were playing decent music to dance to. She found a spot in the center and started at her own pace. Her eyes moved around her to take in all the men who savagely wanted to grab her. They looked ready to gang-bang her and she liked the thought of men salivating over her that intensely but Y/N wouldn’t bring herself to fuck a group of men...unless they all looked like F-16. Her hips moved in a circle to the deep base of the Afrobeat. She really liked the variety of music here. Of course, this caused all the black people to crowd the dance floor too. Y/N had her hands in her hair, on her thighs whenever she went low, on her ass when she let it jiggle and bounce. She was looking really scrumptious on that dance floor.

It was as if the entire dance floor made a circle around her. She was in her own world now. Eyes closed, body moving with a skill that could make a grown man cry. She was giving her the best sexy performance. This had her adrenaline pumping.

Behind every bad bitch is a sweet girl who got tired of everyone’s bullshit.

“You’re the best fucking dancer I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks,” her heart skipped a few beats.”

“Name?” He raised a single brow at her as if to say oh, you’re gonna tell me your name, baby girl.

“Foxy.” She didn’t want to tell this man her real name. This was supposed to be a no strings attached ordeal.

“You’re doing the damn thing, Miss Foxy.”

The way he said her newfound nickname had her toes curling. She was Angel Face no more. Not when this fine ass dangerous man stood before her. That’s right...F-16 was down for her. Y/N’s little performance sparked his interest.

“You’re out here by yourself?” He got closer to her now. His dreads rested over his eyes almost and it gave him a wild look.

“Yes, I came alone.”

“Damn...to a place like this? you never come to a place like this alone, Foxy.”

“...why?” She gave him a perplexed look.

“Because it’s filled with bad guys,” His eyes looked tricky, “None of that fake shit you see in movies, baby girl...the real lion's den.”

Y/N swallowed spit to soothe her dry throat.

“I take it you’re one of those guys?”

“You wanna find out?” His precarious grin would be beautiful if it weren’t for his haunting words. Y/N came to find out. She wanted this.

“Yes, if it’s with you, I’m down.”

He chuckles, “Shit...aight.”

He grabs Y/N’s hand, leading her towards the “bad guys” that she watched from the bar earlier. Some of them reeked of liquor breath and cigarettes, others smelled quite nice like F-16. The women in the area looked at her like she was competing with them. F-16 kept her close though, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting her between his strong thighs. She assumed he did this to show the other men that Foxy was his to play with.

“This is Foxy. I found her shaking that thick ass on the dance floor.”

She froze at that introduction. Y/N looked around at the group of men giving them a shy smile and a wave of her small hand.

“Nah, baby girl, introduce yourself,” His words were cutthroat and sharp in her ear.

“I’m Foxy, nice to meet y’all,” F-16′s hands gripped her hips on both sides.

“She’s soft,” A tall man with skin like midnight and a scar on his left cheek spoke, “a good girl.”

Y/N didn’t like that. She was trying to appear like a bad bitch, not a princess.

“Pussy probably tastes just like sugar,” The man spoke again causing the other men to hum in approval.

“If it does, I’ll be the judge of that. Ain’t that right, Miss Foxy?”

His soft-spoken voice tickled her neck. She felt frazzled. Her low eyes turned to his dark ones, her lip between her teeth.

“Yeah...that’s right,” He gave her a sly lop-sided grin with those full lips. He was certain that Y/N would be going home with him. She liked that a lot. A hell of a lot. He could take her to his place right now and fuck her all night long. Y/N wanted to bury her face into this man's neck and breath in his scent. He was so large and warm surrounding her. Her pussy quivered and damn near begged her to let this man put it on her.

“So, what do you guys do for a living?”

She was curious.

“We’re military men,” One of them spoke up.

“I’m an Airmen,” F-16 spoke with a husky voice, “I fly fighter jets.”

He said it in such a dismissive tone that it didn’t appear all the way true. He did hint to the fact that this place was filled with nothing but bad men so maybe he was putting on a front so she wouldn’t go running away crying. All the other men had treacherous looks on their faces.

Killers.

They’re murderers.

She was glad they put on a nicer front. If not she probably would chicken out of an opportunity with F-16.

“Sounds cool,” she smiles, “tell me more.”

“Nah,” F-16 places his thumb against her chin to rub it lightly, “You’re not interested in what I do. You just want somebody to fuck the shit outta you.”

Her lip twitched a little. Damn, this man could read her like an open book.

“Is that a problem?” Y/N said in a discourteous tone.

“Fuck no. That’s what I plan to do to you, Foxy. Just know you’re in for some shit, girl,” he brought his lips to her ear, “You got these other bitches mad at you.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” She spoke in a bold tone, “they’re loss my gain.”

“Shit,” He places a kiss to her neck, “I like you. You got a lot of mouth on you.”

Y/N normally didn’t but he sparked a rebellious nature within her. Y/N wanted to be a bad girl for him tonight.

“Sharing, F-16?” The same man with the face scar asks. He had a determination in his eyes to have a piece of Foxy. F-16’s succulent lips dragged down Y/N’s neck and to the exposed cleavage on the sides of her dress. She was alarmed by his outright need to suck her flesh in front of these men. His hands were dancing around her hips just above her soaking wet pussy. He didn’t need to respond to that man, He let him know by how famished he was.

“Come on, let us get a piece of that,” Another man with an African accent asks.

“Y'all some thirsty motherfuckers. Nah, she mines,” F-16 wrapped his hand lightly around Y/N’s neck. She shuddered from how thick and warm his calloused hand felt around her slender neck. If he applied just the right amount of pressure she would probably whimper in ecstasy. Even though Y/N was bold enough to stand between F-16’s legs she wasn’t bold enough to press her bubble booty against his crotch. She just knew that dick was nice, hard, and suckable right now.

“You can’t speak, Foxy?” One of them spoke up with a harsh tone. F-16 grunted with frustration. Maybe it was best that he takes her out of here to avoid a brawl between these men.

“I can speak...I’m with him, sorry,” She gave her best charming smile. The menacing glares were thrown they’re way had Y/N shaking in her heels. F-16 pulls Y/N closer to him, her ass finally slumped with a soft bounce against his long and rather...girthy erection.

Stuff this pussy, Daddy, She thought. Lord, he was everything she was missing.

“Can we get out of here?” Y/N whispered to F-16 while he was drinking his whiskey, “I want you to take me home with you.”

“Just like that, huh?” He licks his lips, “Don’t act all scared when I take that ass out of here.”

“I promise I won’t” She spoke to him softly before placing her lips against his dimpled cheek.

“We’ll see.” His disbelieving eyes had Y/N second-guessing her words.

________________

Leaving that bar was like a breath of fresh air. F-16 informed her that he arrived on a bike and that she would need to ride out to his hotel on the back with him. He didn’t have a spare helmet so he offered her his. She took it with quivering fingers hoping that he didn’t sense her fear.

“You riding, baby girl?” He looked so good on that speed bike. Taking one last calming breath, Y/N placed the helmet over her head, gripping her clutch tightly before settling on the back of the bike with F-16.

“Good girl. Wrap your arms around me nice and snug...good girl. Now lean in towards me...just like that. You’re ready?”

“Just drive.” She placed her cheek against F-16’s back, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Say less,” He zoomed off down the city street and into the night. Y/N was in a state of anxiety the entire ride. He zipped and zoomed between cars, made sharp turns, and sped up whenever the roads were clear enough for him to have a little fun. He had to feel her heartbeat rattling against his solid back. Now, they were inside a tunnel whipping past cars. Y/N could feel her dress flying up past her naked ass and at this point, she didn’t care that everyone around her caught a glimpse before they were nowhere in sight. She wasn’t about to let go of him just to pull the short-as-fuck dress down. Plus, she had too much ass back there anyway. F-16 began to slow down as he approached a luxury hotel in Boston. He drove through the garage, going around several levels before finding a parking spot. The minute he parked his bike Y/N hopped off to fix her dress. It was up and around her waist. That explains why the valet men wolf-whistled at her. The minute Y/N removed her helmet she came face to face with F-16 adjusting his shirt and revealing two Glocks resting on his hips. His well-knit, muscle-bound abdomen and hips made her crave to touch, lick, and suck this man all over but those guns...petrifying.

“Gotta watch my back,” He answered her question before she could even ask, “Got a lot of enemies.”

“For a fighter pilot?” Y/N gave him a puzzled stare.

“You’d be surprised, ma,” His eyes flickered up and down her shapely form, “I won’t hurt you.”

She knew he wouldn’t but Y/N never saw guns up close and in person. This just made the situation more real for her. She was definitely fucking a trained killer. Maybe a mercenary? An assassin? He’s definitely more than a fighter pilot for the Military. All of the men at that bar too.

“Don’t be scared, ma, I got you.”

“Okay,” Y/N placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead the way to his hotel room.

__________________

It was dark.

Everything pitch black.

She could hear him moving about before a small lamp light within the living room flickered on. She looked around her with eager eyes as he removed his utility vest and timbs. She walked slowly around the hotel room, hands in her hair and a nervous feeling in her gut.

“Restroom?” She asked with a shaky voice.

F-16 points down a hall, “Down and to your left, baby girl.”

Y/N took off finding the restroom with a jacuzzi tub, standing shower, and a beautiful view of Boston. She closed the door, pulling her dress up to use the toilet. Y/N ran her trembling fingers through her hair, trying her hardest to calm her nerves. He was gonna put it on her for sure he didn’t even have to prove that to her. She wiped and flushed, standing at the sink to wash her hands and look over her makeup and hair. Her hair still looked nice but that wouldn’t last. Makeup still on point as well. She hesitated to leave that bathroom.

“Breath, Foxy, it’s just sex. You’ve had sex plenty of times,” Her voice didn’t even sound convincing. Grabbing a hotel rag in a frenzy Y/N refreshed herself between her legs before finally leaving that bathroom. When she walked back to the living room he wasn’t in sight and it was dark again. Turning around, Y/N went to find his room which was directly across from the restroom except the door was cracked. Being the nosy girl she was, Y/N peaked between the crack to see what he was up to. F-16 was in the middle of packing away some weapons and foreign currency. He was topless showing off his powerful and dynamic body covered in keloid scars. She had an odd look on her face as she studied the organized placement of those scars. It was beautiful but Y/N is a smart girl, she knew those scars held a grizzly past. Before she could even react F-16 pulled his bedroom door opened, staring down at her with a menacing glare.

“Spying on me?” He had a glint in his eyes and a base in his voice that made her shiver.

“I’m sorry I was just looking for you!” She spoke in a jumble.

His chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, “It's not polite to spy on someone, Miss Foxy. That shit can get you in a whole lot of trouble if you aren’t careful,” F-16 stepped back to allow her to fully enter his room, “Get comfortable, we got a long night, ma.”

Y/N cautiously stepped inside. F-16 reached out to harshly slap her ass. Y/N’s back flinched and her hands came around to caress her sore flesh.

“Big ass on you, girl,” He closed his door, “You need another drink?”

“N-No.” Y/N sat on the edge of F-16’s bed facing a wall mirror that hung over his hotel dresser.

“Stand up,” F-16 stood in front of her. Y/N got up from the bed, his hard body pressing against the front of hers.

“Turn around.”

She did as she was told, turning away from him and stroking her hair to the side to give him access to her neck. F-16’s hands feathered through her hair, massaging her scalp. She closed her eyes, head falling back against his brawny chest as he lightly tugged on her pressed out strands. He would wrap his fingers around her hair and pull to make her head fall back against him. Now, his nose was in her hair as he massaged her scalp. The air from his nose warmed her scalp each time he exhaled. Her eyes fluttered shut and now her hands were reaching back to squeeze his thighs. That’s all she could really reach since he was much taller than her 5’ 5 self. F-16 takes her hair into a ponytail, leaning down to place his lips against the back of her neck. Now, her body was arched forward a little and her bubble booty was pressed firmly against his groin. His lips circled her earlobe over her diamond stud in her left ear. His wet warm mouth had a tight suction on her ear that had her thinking about that same tightness around her clit. F-16 softly places his hands on her hips, flipping Y/N around to face him. His brown eyes were so fanatic that she couldn’t even hold his gaze. F-16 grabs her jaw, placing his starving lips against her neck again. His hands moved from her jaw down and around her waist to pull her from the ground. Startled, Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He had better access now to her collar bones and heaving chest. His large hands squeezed each bare cheek of her ass while he places open-mouthed kisses along her breasts.

“I’m tired of this fucking dress,” He spoke in a hushed tone, “I feel like cuttin’ this shit off of you, girl.”

If he did that she wouldn’t have anything to wear when she went home. He takes one of his hands to untie the halter. Once that was free he practically ripped it from her chest. Her breasts popped out at him and his lips began to suck and lick her nipples. Y/N arched into his mouth while her hands fingered through his dreads. She tried looking down to watch him pleasure her breasts but he had her so weak and feeling so good. He was suckling like a hungry baby and damn she could feel that shit in her toes.

“Fucking sexy, girl,” He murmured something into her chest while his lips attacked each hard nipple. Not only were her nipples given attention but around her breasts were too. He french kissed that skin basically wetting her up with his saliva.

“Oh, God,” She mewled, “Your mouth feels so good on me.”

She wanted him to lay her on her back and lick and suck her all over. Y/N’s body was screaming for attention. Y/N pulled F-16’s face away from her nipples and replaced it with her greedy dripping tongue. He swallowed her tongue and lips with his full mouth. His tongue was deep down her throat causing her eyes to open and stare at him with a sexual appetite. She really needed him. Kissing him made her open her legs further so she could feel his clothed dick stroke her hard clit.

“You needy little girl,” He smirked, “that pussy wants some attention, huh?”

“See?” She opened her legs as best she could. F-16 looked down then back up at her face. Y/N had her fingers pinching her clit, “Suck my clit.”

“Shit,” F-16 tosses Y/N on the bed, “Spread them legs and show me how you play with that pussy.”

She didn’t hesitate because her fingers were aching to touch. She spread her legs so wide she felt like they were detached from her own body. Her pussy was spread out and sloppy. She fingered her clit causing some of her natural lubricant to drip. Taking her fingers, Y/N dragged that liquid up to her clit to rub it in. She noticed F-16’s erection twisted to the side in his briefs now that his pants were removed. If she pulled those briefs down his dick would probably hit her in the face. He walked up to her, standing between her legs and bringing his hand down to rub along the outside of her opening. Wet gushing sounds came from her pussy each time his fingers would tap lightly against her hole. Damn, she was so wet. His other hand grabbed his balls through his briefs.

“This how you play with that pretty pussy, Foxy?”

“Yes,” She rolled her hips.

“You rub that clit just like that?”

“Mhm,” Her eyes closed.

“Make that clit nice and hard, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” She was close.

Two of his fingers slipped inside. She widened her legs while still rubbing her clit. He was knuckle deep in her pussy and she was sure his hand was soaking wet.

“I’m making that pussy cum?” His other hand was in his briefs now.

“Yeah, you’re making my pussy cum,” Y/N couldn’t even rub her clit anymore from how weak he made her. Now his thumb replaced her actions. She thrust her hips forward more to get his fingers deeper.

“This too much?” His voice was so low and seducing.

“No, I can take it,” Y/N moaned out.

“Shit, then you should be able to take this,” F-16 slid a third finger inside.

Stuttering she said, “F-fuckk I-I’m cumming f-for you!”

His fingers came up to rub her clit as her essence spilled onto the bed. Her thighs closed and her body fell back against the bed. F-16 finally let those briefs down and showed her what he was packing. He had such a beautiful dick and body. It looked so good and she knew it would feel just as good in her pussy. Beautiful man. She had a serious body and dick fetish.

“Damn, can I suck it?” She licked her upper lip, “Let me slide that right down my throat.”

Y/N was proving to him that she wasn’t afraid. She opened her legs more for him while wrapping her small hand around his big dick. F-16 smiled down at her and she thought she would die from how fine he is. Taking her giving and unsparing lips, Y/N allowed that pipe to slide right in down to the base.

“Nasty bitch,” F-16 showed Y/N no mercy as he fucked her mouth. She thought she would take control but it was all him… all of him indeed. She wanted to suck him dry. Her sloppy mouth spilled saliva over her chest. She purposely made gagging noises to let him know that she loved the dick and how perfect and beautiful it was.

“Daddy, I want,” She said while F-16 slapped his weight on her tongue.

“Say please,” He rubbed it along the length of her tongue.

“Please feed me.”

Swallowing it whole, Y/N was loving that chocolate stick as it swelled in her bountiful mouth.

“Fuck, bitch, look what you’re about to make me do,” His head fell forward and his lip was between his teeth. His face looked so relaxed but his body was literally shaking as he erupted thickly within her mouth. It was yummy perfection. F-16 slapped Y/N’s pussy before rubbing her clit and labia in slow circles. Her eyes were on him, silently telling him to punish her brutally. Removing his hand and placing it in his mouth to suck off her cream, F-16 walks over to his pants to grab his wallet. Wrapped in gold was a magnum that he ripped open to roll over his shaft. Walking back to Y/N with her legs still spread open He reached down to pick her up so he could fuck her standing. She practically jumped on him, opening her legs to give her pussy to him.

“How you like that pussy fucked?” He asked while rubbing his dick back and forth over her wet folds.

“Deep daddy,” Y/N stared into his dark eyes, “So deep daddy...very deep...I wanna feel your balls slap my pussy.”

“You wanna be a slut for this big dick so damn bad,” He finally let his length inside of her. He was deep like she wanted. Her mouth fell open into a silent scream.

“Damn, pussy feels just as good as it tastes, baby,” F-16 gave her shivers, “You wanted to be filled like this looking the way you did at that fucking bar, HUH?!” He thrust forward sharply and pulled out slowly. He repeated this assault on her pussy over and over until she was finally able to mutter a sound.

“You can take some dick in you, mhm,” Y/N bounced as best as she could on him without stopping. F-16 was so big in her little pussy. He saw her struggle and now his hands were under her ass to lift her up and down his dick. She dragged her nails painfully over the scars on his chest when his dick made contact with her g spot.

“Damn, you’re gripping my shit,” His hand found her neck, “You like showing this pussy off? Wearing no panties with all that ass and pussy out. If I would have known, this dick would be in that pussy at the bar instead.”

The thought of being fucked on the dance floor or on that pool table in front of all those people had Y/N so wet and open for him. She moaned his name and wrapped her arms around him while he molded his dick into her pussy at a rapid pace. The power of her orgasm pushed against his dick causing him to slip out. He grabbed his dick at the base and rubbing it along her clit. She continued to spill for him when he did that. Y/N’s cum was plentiful. She couldn’t lie that it feels great when he’s a little too big and overwhelming to take. His dick was long and strong and when he pulled her off him to place her on her back she almost came again. She wondered how long he would be in town because she really wanted to fuck him from sunrise to sunset.

Damn, now his lips were on her pussy. Y/N rubbed the back of his head softly even though his lips were strong on her pussy. He was licking away the mess he caused.

“Mmm, fuck this tight pussy up, Daddy,” She was ready for more.

He still had his lips on her pussy.

“Daddy...please,” She tried pulling him away but damn he was really eating her pussy. Her arms wobbled and fuck she was gonna cum again. He held her hips in place while his tongue fucked her pussy. She watched his head move back and forth. He pistoned that tongue in and out of her. She wanted the pussy fucked again he was gonna give it to her every which way.

“Ima fuck around and hit you up every time I’m in Boston with a pussy like this,” He slapped her phat pussy, “Ain’t no such thing as too much big dick for you, slut.”

She was really being a daredevil tonight. F-16 wanted to give her backshots but Y/N needed to sit on his dick first. She begged him and now here she was bouncing on his dick. Her ass clapped against his thighs and her titties bounce in his face.

“Good, bitch, sit on it, take that FUCKING dick!”

This was a real dick fuck. Foxy is a true rider. She was fucking F-16′s head up on purpose. Ride that dick. Jump on that dick. Bounce on that dick. Taking that dick and using it for a cum stick.

“You hiding that sexy phat ass from me?” His sweaty face glowered at her, “Fuck me in reverse, bitch, and twerk that ass!”

Y/N kept the dick in her while turning to give him a view of her phat ass. She looked back at his sexy face because it said it all for her. F-16 was ready to bust a load in that condom.

“Shit, that's how you feel?! Gon’ head nut on this Daddy dick then!” her moans were so damn angelic. She couldn’t hide behind a nickname like Foxy when Angel Face was her true identity.

“Damn, I got me one for real,” He slaps Y/N’s ass, “Thick as fuck, damn, got a phat ass.”

Out of nowhere, F-16 sits up on his knees causing Y/N to fall forward on her elbows with her ass in the air. F-16 was ready to slam in that pussy for real. She needed to be appreciated for being such a good slut for him. F-16 grabs a fist full of her hair, making her look up into the mirror above his dresser. She strained her neck to watch her ass clap back on him.

“Been too damn long...hmmph.”

That’s that shit she was talking about.

Fucking hard and rapid.

Use her pussy like a punching bag.

“You watching that ass? Watch it while I fuck this pussy.”

She could see her cheeks acting like a tidal wave whenever he dug deep. He was fucking the shit out of her. She would love to roll over to this every morning and before bed at night. Damn, F-16 could fuck some pussy up. She just watched open-mouthed as her ass bounced and clapped. She started moaning and cumming around him.

“You are sexy as hell, bruh...got my dick hard just looking at you, Foxy.”

She started twirling her hips and popping her ass while throwing it back on him. F-16 had his arms by his sides but from time to time he would pop her big ass for pleasing him so good.

“That’s how you do Daddy’s dick? Just nut on me and fuck on me like this? Nice tight juicy pussy on you.”

“Mmmm-ahhhhhh,” She looked back at it with a pout of her lips.

“Good, bitch, that’s right, give Daddy that pussy,” He slaps her ass with his eyes on her, “Get that pussy stuffed...good girl...let Daddy use that pussy.”

F-16 had his hands on her hips again and that's when Y/N really was in trouble. He was holding that nut off to feel her as much as he could like she would disappear.

“Let Daddy use that pussy...let Daddy use that pussy...Let Daddy use that pussy,” He was so hung up on how good she felt he was repeating his words, “I should have fucked you raw and leave my nut in you GODDAM!”

Dick throbbing Y/N concord F-16’s dick. He was filling that condom up load after fucking load.

“Fuckkkk, it’s so much cum!” She could feel it even though it wasn’t actually coating her walls. His thrusts became slower and slower until finally, his dick slipped out. Y/N turned around on the bed, grabbing his dick to remove the condom. F-16 watched her pour his cum into her mouth from that condom before arching forward to suck the rest from his dick.

“I’ll suck your dick all the time, Daddy,” She looked up at him with her beautiful eyes.

“Then bring it on I’m always hard and ready to be sucked on ma,”

Y/N found herself sucking this man’s dick yet again. Anywhere, anytime, anyway he wants it.

“I wish I could take your fine ass with me,” He fingered some of her hair behind her ear before reaching forward to slap her ass, “I need you to calm a nigga down when he ready to kill a motherfucker.”

She didn’t flinch at his words. F-16 knew that she had him figured out the minute he stepped to her. Yeah...it was for the best that she didn’t get involved with this man and his deadly lifestyle but who was she kidding? Whenever he came to Boston or New York he could stop by and give her some good, rough, loving in her tight pussy.

The End.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws

#killmonger #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #killmonger smut #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

Text

Not by the Moon | 01

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, allusion to anxiety

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing quite like visiting a bookshop on a rainy autumn day, walking the pavements that will soon deepen in their shade of grey as the scarlet and burnt orange leaves will be decorated with tiny watery crystals. The fierce wind preludes to the sorrow of the gloomy clouds overhead, the chill creeping beneath the navy trenchcoat cooling the little skin bared by a simple ink black V-neck shirt. Caffeinated bordeaux sneakers hasten their step when leaving the district ruled by busy city life and entering the artisans district on the east side of town, where the boroughs are ruled by artists, individual shops, cafés and independent bookstores that each have their own vibe.

For a while now, a specific one has yet to be visited, intending to drop by ever since that long walk that lead through many a cobblestone street lined with brownstone houses and not a single business anywhere in sight. Except for Paper Souls, a hidden gem tucked away at the edge of the area where homes and commerce just meet and have resulted in a small store disguised as a proper worker’s house. As can be judged from the window display, the shop sells both well-known titles alongside more obscure ones, bound in editions fresh from the press and those having lived a ready life on someone’s shelves.

A second before the first tears of the heavens fall and make their presence known by ticking against the window, the bookstore is entered with a low sigh of delight. Nothing comes remotely close to the distinct scent of books, this specific combination of mustiness and ink laced with the fragrance of the weather outside and perfumes of customers. Or, in this case, solely the owner’s.

Here and there, a rumour about the man ruling the paper kingdom has been picked up and it is safe to say not all have been positive. A subject that has been frequently touched upon, oft causing more of a stir than the overall intimidating attitude, are the differently coloured eyes. One brown like hazelnuts at the end of the year and the other as blue as the ocean far outside the harbour.

The ones belonging to long blonde locks with dark roots looking up from the current read behind the counter and which are briefly met with a polite nod and casual greeting. At least one aspect of the groundless gossip is true because the disgruntled stoicism on the handsome face acknowledging the professional meaningless acquaintance silently makes the heart race and constricts the throat. It awakens the need to run and hide somewhere among the chestnut shelves, become a character in a tale so as to vanish and thus avoid upsetting the clerk by merely being present. Which might be the biggest problem, considering today’s goal of staying inside and spend it as is habitually done.

Don’t be silly. Just find a book and settle down somewhere to read a few pages. As long as you’re quiet, nothing’s gonna happen.

Thus, mayhaps repeating the self-chastisement once or twice, the creaking worn floorboards are walked upon as ghostlike as possible though every step makes the Body cringe due to the loudness disturbing the silence.

And him.

The young man whose gaze is momentarily met before fleeing to the vintage couch in an incline with a gorgeous Penguin hardcover copy of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, which has been found in the poetry section across from the counter. Breath was held while standing on the tips of the toes while reaching for the thin volume on one of the highest shelves, hoping to not attract attention and refusing to use one of the nearby dark-wooden stools to climb atop because such acrobatics would likely not sit well with the person causing the hairs at the back of the neck to stand on edge.

A sigh of relief cannot be helped when loosening the buttons of the trenchcoat and tossing it over the arm rest before snuggling up in the corner of the sofa. Finally a moment devoid of stress, a chance to be carried off by the works of a beloved poet and artist embodying the truth of childhood and adulthood.

But being brought back all too soon from criticism on the corrupt Catholic Church by the oppressive presence of loose ripped jeans which are perceived just above the edge of the mustard cover. Despite being barely able to gather the courage to look away from the page, lashes nevertheless look up to hands tucked into denim pockets and non-matching irises peering down. Curiously, though it is also alarming, the gaze from above is awkward as if unsettled by the mere presence of a well-meaning bookworm which confirms the assumption about being a nuisance.

Although, the paradoxically misplaced inquiry spoken in a husky voice undermines the deduction. The lowering of broad shoulders does too, allowing personal defenses to waver a bit in the pursuit of kindness. ‘’How do you like your coffee?’’

Bewildered yet finding no clear reason for the kind question in the stoicism of two-toned locks, the simple reflex of asking for a repeat is acted upon with a sheepish tongue that does not know what to make of the situation. ‘’Sorry, what?’’

‘’Coffee. How do you drink yours?’’ A gruff slightly chubby thumb points toward the door, the glass decorated with autumnal tears. ‘’It might be raining, but I still need caffeine. Figured I might as well buy you something too. So, what should I get?’’

What do I do? Do I accept the offer? I mean, he offered it, but declining would still be polite. Then again, it’s free coffee.

‘’Oh, uhm, that’s very sweet of you.’’ The bundle is put down in the lap, flabbergasted shy hands tucked between the thighs while trying to stay as small as possible. It is a silly instinct, but the closeness of the intimidating bookshop clerk calls for it. Moreover, the deep slightly hoarse tone that sounds both as if still recovering from something and being exhausted with the world does not make matters better.

However, albeit for a split second that is not credible enough, little will-o-the-wisps illuminate the entrancing wildness of an ocean and hazelnut forest as a quicksilver smile flashes over roseate lips. A beautiful fleeting sight which might never have arisen from the solemnity resting like a mask on the youth’s face.

A daydream.

Indeed, surely that is what it must have been. What other reason could there be to show a sign of being pleased with someone who does not feel particularly welcome and at ease in this paper kingdom?

Led astray by the unfocused train of thought, distracted by what may or may not have been witnessed, the actual answer comes out on a mumble. All the while boldly looking back, wondering. ‘’An iced vanilla latte... would be nice.’’

Acknowledging the order with a mere low rumble similar to a wolf’s, the clerk sets off on a caffeinated journey and leaves an affected soul behind.

While still being highly uncomfortable with the lad’s presence, the thought of what just happened and the offer of a drink that was not in the slightest reluctant imprints a warm impression on a racing heart. Yet, before any ungrounded fantasies arise, the poetry bundle is quickly picked up again and later exchanged for a thick volume of Keats’s poetry that has been picked up in a rush to seemingly have never moved from the leather couch. To not leave a single trace of chaos which might trigger the wrath of the bookshop keeper and perhaps end up in being drenched by cold coffee.

All the fear is evidently in vain because, when being once again engrossed by poetry, the ghost of a touch over the cheekbone breaks the spell. As if awakening from a dream, the suggestion of the outstretched cold drink passes unnoticed. Instead, it is replaced by a look at ripped jeans beneath a loose tartan blazer, resulting in the novel discovery of a little gem embedded in the right nostril.

The rattle of ice entrapped in plastic fully awakens the senses as well as the sharp rustle of a paper bag bearing the logo shaped like an apple out of which a bite has been taken. ‘’Here. It’s on me. Don’t think anything of it, I just don’t want you to get dehydrated or hungry.’’

‘’Right.’’ With trembling hands expecting to have the food carelessly thrown into the lap and drink pushed into the palm, the surprising meal is accepted. Without the slightest sign of pushing. ‘’Still, thanks.’’

Once again, a beastly grunt is all that is received in return before checkered trainers retreat to the front of the establishment. Strangely, they soon return with the current read which was enjoyed behind the counter alongside the cold brew that was picked up to battle the fatigue that noticeably laces demeanour. Because, when sinking back into the sofa after having been gestured at to scoot over and haphazardly making room, lashes flutter shut for longer than a mere blink. Notwithstanding, they are awake enough to notice the shift in reading. ‘’Keats?’’

‘’Uh, yes. He’s one of my favorites alongside Blake, Donne and, on occasion, Wordsworth.’’ Personal enthusiasm takes over when mentioning the last poet with whom there is a love-hate relationship, erasing any anguish at being close to the keeper of the kingdom and thus making it possible to ignore the few centimeters of space between bodies. ‘’Even though he’s basically a fraud by turning his sister’s experiences into poetry. It makes one wonder whether he had any talent to come up with something himself. Now, I do believe some of his works are genuinely his, but not all. Sorry, I’ll- I’ll shut up.’’

Questioning chestnut and water reintroduce the silence disturbed by autumnal rain accompanied by howling winds, stretching out over the empty streets. Nobody likes a blathering fool, least of all the stoic who surprisingly has decided to join one’s company.

Or, so was the original thought that is now nullified by a sliver of a smile and something inaudible smokily mumbled beneath breath. There is no courage to inquire about what was said nor ask for a reason for being evidently entertained, simply rapidly picking up the volume again to resume reading with an overheated, ashamed mind.

Here and there, however, sneaky peeks are thrown in the direction of bleached locks thoroughly enjoying Dante’s Inferno, a work that has been on the to-be-read list for the longest time and somehow has never been crossed off.

Come on, you can do it. Ask him how it is, whether he likes Dante. Don’t be a marshmallow. Okay, one, two... fuck.

‘’How’s Keats?’’ Beating the barely daring tongue to it, the young man interrupts the hardly focused enjoyment of poetry that maybe lasted about fifteen minutes.

‘’Good.’’ More wants to be added to the opinion, but cannot be shaped nor voiced due to the bafflement at seeing sincere interest pierce through an unwavering expression. On the other hand, another unnameable sentiment underlines attitude too, floating ever so slightly beneath the surface.

‘’You haven’t touched your food.’’ Lips slightly pout when glancing at the paper bag that rests on the trenchcoat that had hastily been draped over the other arm rest when bleached locks sat down, colourful irises dimming.

Worry.

Why does it affect him? What does it matter if I eat or not?

To hopefully grant a bit of reassurance, an absent-minded promise is made before diving back into the misery of a nightingale. ‘’I’ll eat in a bit. Just one more poem.’’

As fast as lightning, the volume flies from hapless palms and the scent of books mingled with musky mint suddenly leans over to grab the purchased treat, fingertips pressing against the side of the thigh. Every muscle tenses up at the new form of intimacy, inwardly praying for the tartan blazer to return to his place as soon as possible. ‘’No, it’s already two o’clock and I’m sure you had breakfast early. You should eat. Where’s your coffee?’’

A trembling finger points to the untouched iced vanilla latte on the floor, put just in front of the sofa. Hands rise even higher when the bookshop keeper’s heartbeat and heated broad chest can be temporarily felt when slightly chubby digits lean over to grab the plastic cup. ‘’I’m not…’’

‘’What?’’ Clearly not understanding the need to keep looking away, unsteadily focusing on the sides of the nearest bookshelf, the question comes out agitated as the retrieved items are pushed forward, unmistakably intended to be taken. The shift in behaviour is as little comprehensible as the likely appearance of warm rosy cheeks going paired with a fist pressing on the lips, tongue-tied.

Mentally chastising oneself for the awkward display, courage is forcibly gathered to face the puzzled grumpy young man and answer with a whisper. ‘’I’m not comfortable eating in public.’’

‘’We’re not in public.’’

‘’Or with people I don’t know.’’

This revelation is clearly unexpected, eyes widening when reluctantly elaborating on an irrational fear with folded hands tucked between the thighs. For a second, there is nothing but an uncomfortable hush in which the worst outcome is vividly painted in the mind. Fortunately and oddly, it is broken as the stoic’s attitude shifts to something that has not been witnessed before and which goes against any rumour floating around town.

A gentle smile plays around the corners of the mouth as the tense grip on the food and drink loosens, gently putting the rustling bag in the lap and a warm palm grabbing one hand to place the lukewarm cup in it. ‘’There. I’m Jaebeom, JB for short. Now, can you please eat something? And I promise I won’t judge you.’’

‘’Shouldn’t- Shouldn’t you eat something too? You look like you could use some energy.’’ Up close, the fatigue has become visibly noticeable outside the moment of sitting down and closing eyes for a little bit longer than would suffice for a blink. Affected by the niceness of the gentle acquaintance and thoughtfulness, the croissant in the bag is torn in half to offer a part to the current company. ‘’How about we share this?’’

‘’You don’t have to.’’ A low breathy chuckle rolls forth at the gesture, strangely elating the heart and stirring up a storm of butterflies in the stomach. Again, the same unintelligible phrase that was muttered under breath earlier seems to be repeated.

A penny for your thoughts. What did you say?

Putting aside curiosity to not prematurely cross any boundaries of politeness, what wants to be asked is suppressed and reformed into a request for sharing. After all, the lack of energy outlined by vague dark circles beneath non-matching irises is truly a cause for concern. ‘’Please? I don’t have that big of an appetite.’’

With a resigning sigh, the offer is accepted. Much to the strange delight of the soul who still is not entirely trusting of the bookshop keeper yet already has the mental defenses down a little bit more than before. ‘’Alright, if you insist.’’

What follows is an absolutely adorable though also surprising scenario as the pastry is enjoyed in one bite, the food disappearing without any trouble. Nibbling on the other half, staring cannot be helped as a sip of coldbrew is enjoyed to wash the treat down. However, the unintended impolite mannerism, of course, cannot pass under the radar. Hence is why dark brows furrow in puzzlement when remarking upon being a point of attention. ‘’What?’’

‘’Nothing. You just…’’ a moment is taken to try and find the right word yet failing to think of one which accurately describes the eating manner, ‘’you just wolfed that down.’’

‘’Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I can be a bit, well, unmannered at times.’’ The gaze focusing on the iced black coffee adds to the sorrowful side profile, unwillingly nostalgic, but unapproachable for comfort. ‘’I try not to be. I’m trying to, no, never mind.’’ Another sip. ‘’Forget it. Just eat and stay as long as you like.’’

‘’Jaebeom?’’ In a reflex, after swiftly wiping fatty fingertips on the coarse paper napkin, the bookshop keeper is grabbed by the sleeve as he tries to move away. Alarmed by the sudden bold move, non-matching irises briefly flare with an odd mixture of fear and annoyance before seemingly realizing something and thus calming down. All this goes hidden behind a badly enacted tolerating low hum. ‘’Can you, I mean, only if you don’t mind, could you... could you stay here? For a little while? At least sit down for a few more minutes. I promise I won’t stare as I did and actually read.’’

‘’You want me to... stay?’’ Dark brows furrow in a strange confusion, uncomprehending of the normal request. Although, perhaps it is not so casual seeing as it needs to be thought about. ‘’Stay? Here?’’

‘’If you don’t mind? I’m sorry if I freaked you out, I really didn’t mean to.’’

‘’You didn’t. I should be the one apologizing for being so distant.’’

‘’I don’t blame you. You barely know me.’’

‘’I don’t know you.’’ The observation hits hard, the sternness of the reply crucifying the heart and constricting the throat. How odd a fact should have this result. Withal, the misplaced hurt is a little soothed by the promise that follows. ‘’I’ll stay. But I’ll be closing in about two hours.’’

And thus, for one hour and a half, the paper kingdom falls quiet. Solely the tinkering tears of heaven decorating the glass of the windows, howling winds stirring the richly warm leaves into dance and occasional wandering lonely umbrella break the silence. Inside, the only noise to disrupt the hush is the turn of a page or sniffle that may or may not prelude to a cold.

However, all tranquil beauty knows an end for Time always runs out. Henceforth, it is at half past four that a light tap goes paired with the barely audible comment “you have to go”. Likely due to the aftermath of being pulled from a world of poetic Nature into gloomy Reality, there is a wrong perception of Jaebeom’s voice. Surely, the sorrowful reluctance is imagined.

As you said, you don’t know me.

The mere thought pains Body and Soul when grabbing the navy trenchcoat off of the faux leather arm rest, stepping towards the bookshelf where Keats was found and the exit afterwards. No chance of wandering a little longer between the books is given, the clerk following closely behind and unconsciously guiding feet towards the entrance.

‘’Y/N? Will you, uh…’’ Restless trembling palms hover in the air like two bent paws failing to illustrate something, a rosy flush spread over the cheeks, ‘’Can I put your jacket on? I mean, let me help you put your jacket on. That’s how you say it, right?’’

With an affirming hum, big palms with slightly chubby digits are allowed to help dress into the piece of clothing.

Glide over the side of the neck when collecting hair to make it flow over the collar instead of being tucked beneath it, leaving a trail of goosebumps and sharpening breath.

All the while maintaining eye contact, both our faces distorting with timidity. It is then that glances are haphazardly thrown around the empty store to avoid each other for a second wherein composure is hopefully found.

And it would appear that the buff tall blonde youth is the first to do so, speech matter-of-factly when voicing an unspoken suggestion while holding on to the upper arms. ‘’I haven’t even asked your name.’’

Bashfully, the answer is uttered in a proper vis-á-vis with entrancing two-toned irises though the urge to bolt out the door remains. Nevertheless, the rapid loss of contact is disliked, JB realizing how the intimacy might come across when glancing at the fingertips digging into fabric, almost begging to stay. ‘’It’s Y/N.’’

The instinct to flee is lessened by the step forward thoughtfully repeating the name, carefully feeling out the syllables as if comprehending a siren’s song. ‘’I had a good time, Y/N.’’

‘’Me too.’’ It is true because, despite the distance that was endeavoured to be closed with food, reading and shallow conversation, the time spent together was actually quite enjoyable. Notwithstanding, too much of the clerk remains unknown to say whether all has been out of politeness or if any sincere trust has been shown.

‘’Even though you’re still scared of me?’’

‘’I’m not!’’ A sigh rolls off the tongue at the sight of a smug grin on roseate lips knowing better than to lie about genuine sentiments. ‘You’re just... just kinda intimidating.’

‘’Kinda? To me it seems like a whole lot more than ‘just kinda’. You almost seem eager to go even though you were hesitating earlier.’’ Bright hazelnut and the summer sea are overcast by lonely grief putting on the airs of suppressed rage, painfully re-establishing and enhancing the distance that was briefly shortened with a step backwards. ‘’To get away from me. Make up your mind.’’

‘’Yes, I’m intimidated by you. A lot.’’ The renewed cold emptiness is warily bridged, planning out the words to say to not make matters worse. ‘’And, to be honest, I don’t want to go. Still, it’s because you intimidate me I might seem uneasy and glad to go, but I can assure you I’m not. I really had a good time. We might not have talked a lot, but I still had a splendid afternoon. With you. And for that, I’m grateful. I’m sorry I confuse you, make you feel awkward because of my behaviour.’’

The waterfall of a confession catches the bookshop keeper off guard, but also manages to make tense broad shoulders lower their defenses as colourful eyes calm down. Digits rise from the pockets of loose ripped jeans to envelop the upper arms once more, this time rubbing them reassuringly and let the personal walls crumble too. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me nor apologize. Look, we’ll talk about this another time. For now, you have to go and I have to close the shop. Get home safely and don’t catch a cold.’

‘’You too.’’

‘’Don’t worry. I won’t.’’

With a last nod and gentle smile relieved at the prospect of good health, warm palms are stepped away from.

The watery autumn chill cools the heat from being seen off by blonde locks.

I couldn’t get sick even if I wanted to.

When the enchanting scent of summer citrus, autumnal blackberries and juicy peaches has faded, the two volumes that were touched by it are picked from the shelves without a clear understanding of why. Neither is there a sense of comprehension when it comes to the sheer curiosity about what it is that the adorable shy doe so likes about these specific poets. Notwithstanding, both books are picked up and put on the counter alongside the current read to take upstairs after sweeping and properly closing the shop.

Which does not take long, soon after already stumbling up the metal stairs to the apartment above the establishment with a famished stomach and tense muscles, watching the oppressive concrete clouds slightly give way to the lilac dusk before heading inside. Fortunately, dinner has been prepared in advance so the various side dishes solely need to be warmed up in the microwave just like the rice in the cooker. The hair dye job, however, will have to wait until tomorrow. That is, if it is remembered like the face of the local historian who seems awfully fascinated by the affliction distorting identity.

Shedding off the weight of the day, clothes are removed and tossed on the couch to be replaced by the bathrobe that was put there in the morning after yet another long night filled with amnesia. Afterwards, bare feet trod to the kitchen to retrieve the cold dishes from the refrigerator and put them in the microwave to heat up.

It’s getting late, but at least there’s still some time to read. Funny how my last thought is of you.

Just as the melancholic thought arises over a big bowl of bibimbap accompanied by William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, the screen of the phone on the counter lights up after a brief buzz. When getting up to check, the message appears to be from the supernatural scholar.

“Good luck tonight. I’ll be at your place around 7. Hopefully, you’ll be yourself again. If not, I’ll wait outside. Jinyoung.”

As always, the text is signed with the young man’s name to help ease the recovery of ever-fading memory. Even after living around three years among humans again, the ability to recall actual names alongside how to enact civilized behaviour remains hard.

And becomes more difficult with every passing day.

For now, I want to try. I want to speak to you at least one more time and explain myself. Part ways on good terms, let you know what I am.

A smile cannot be helped at the sight of the bowl next to the mustard poetry bundle, vividly re-imagining how it was held by small hands on the faux leather sofa this afternoon.

How those same tiny digits tore off half of the croissant without hesitation and offered it to an animal, nibbling adorably on theirs while endeavouring to put on a human act and failing due to the hunger always preceding hell.

But a fantasy never lasts.

Time never stops.

It solely ticks.

Runs out.

Hopefully, I’ll remember you.

And the moon cannot be sworn by for She cannot stay away nor remain the same.

That night, the name of the bookish fawn is the last powerful word to recall before losing a grip on the world in the cold dark illuminated by artificial light.

Naked and shackled beneath the concrete ground.

Hoping for a memory.

Y/N.

#ksmutclub #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom #Jaebum #Im Jaebeom #Im Jaebum #GOT7 Werewolf AU #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf!Jaebum #Not by the Moon

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we-always-hit-our-ass · 4 years

Text

First Date HCs With David Webster

warnings: meh some cursing but nothing major, it’s also very long I’m sorry- but the rest is just fluff, so eeee I hope you all like them! <333

words: 1.6k (ajsajhk i got carried away on these headcanons, i couldn’t help myself)

Taglist: @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi,@noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @gutsandgloryhere, @hihosilvers, @rayleighshughes, @floydtab, @wexhappyxfew, @sherlollydramoine, @meganthesunflower, @3milesup, @jamie506101, @sunflowerchuck, @softlieb, @k-websters, @punkgeekchic, @speirs-crazy-ass, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @stressedinadress

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

First Date Headcanons with David Webster

So you see, of course our favorite Harvard boy will take you to the fucking aquarium (Cliche and obvious? Yes. But like where else, I mean seriously??)

When you first got together the first thing he promised you was an aquarium date, and well looky here, he fulfilled that promise.

Ok, so y’all pull up to the building and you can see waves of literal euphoria coming out of him. He’s just so adorable and he has a little bit of pep in his step when walking towards the entrance.

And then every time he walks, his poofy brown hair bounces up and down and the way the suns hits it is *chefs kiss*-

Even before you get to the entrance, your boyfriend is gushing about marine animals. They were short descriptions of a multitude of animals but they were so detailed and captivating, you couldn’t help but listen.

However, his voice was a bit distracting at times and you could find yourself zoning out while he talked.

A look of awe is plastered on your hand and your hold on his hand tightens ever so slightly.

It’s safe to say that you learned more about ocean animals in those brief moments than you ever could from your years in school.

Y’all bust in the aquarium like the iconic couple you two are (I’m so proud of you) and boy oh boy is David cute as hell.

Here he is-- a grown ass man who went to Harvard and literally served in WW2-- looking like a child discovering a shiny rock. You love it-

David is indecisive as hell and he had no idea where to go. He turns over to look at you with those beautiful eyes of his and you can’t help but smile.

You two pull up those maps of the building and you two plan out the rest of your date. Your fingers trail over the paper, trying to figure out where to go first.

You two make up this intricate schedule and you knowingly look at each other when your eyes find where the shark exhibit was.

But at the beginning of your date Web held your hand as you two viewed various wildlife vibin in the water behind the glass.

You were in heaven when you saw how the water played so beautifully on the your boyfriend’s face.

David was oblivious to how you stared at him in awe and you were oblivious to whenever he did the same to you.

You named a crab after Johnny and a particularly cute clownfish was named after Babe. You two had a heated discussion on who Winters was.

(Y’all never settled on anything. Web thought he’d be a red snapper. You personally think he’d either be a blue marlin or a swordfish.)

He called you his angelfish and you hit him on the arm for being so cheesy. After that he said that you were a flame angelfish instead and you could only playfully roll your eyes at him.

Get prepared for literally a shit ton of fish trivia this boy will never shut up and he just wants to gush about it to you, it’s very wholesome and sweet actually.

He knows a lot because he either has a whole 100000 page book about the sea printed on his brain or something or because he has the literal ocean in his eyes.

Look I can’t tell at this point-

The two of you were going to every single exhibit this aquarium had to offer and there was no stopping you.

Sadly that intricate schedule is unceremoniously yeeted out the window because when you head over to the next place you're stopping at you two see something else you like and head there instead.

“(Y/N)! I thought we were seeing the penguins next-”

“But Web, the seals! Look at the seal exhibit!”

You’re gripping his arm and looking at him with your stunning face, how could he say no to you?

So he lets an exaggerated sigh and nods his head as he tries to contain his grin.

You two went over to the seal exhibit instead kasjhd- Y’all still got to see the penguins, it’s all ight.

While gawking at the beautiful fish species you saw, Web seemed to know a heaping mount about a lotta of em. The facts he didn’t tell you earlier he says now and you’re just like “look at my smart Harvard boy go-”

The amount of times you wanted to just make a scrapbook that is dedicated to this day alone is nearly impossible to keep track of. The both of you wanted to cherish this aquarium date for all eternity.

Cause literally there’s this one moment where you’re looking over at tropical fish and Web was reading the description. Oh what would happen next-

As you’re admiring the way the small fishes swam gracefully Web legit goes on a rant on how they got some information on the Tiger Barb wrong.

This adorable idiot I- I can’t even at this point.

But Web holds you in his arms as he buries his face in your hair while looking at fish send tweet.

He also wraps his arms around your waist and he rests his head on top of yours. He makes comments about some of the fish and you just sink into his embrace.

Also one thing you did keep from your schedule after not following it was visiting the petting pool after you two ate lunch.

When I say that you two nyoomed over to the petting pool area I mean y’all nyoomed-- Like full Speirs mode on-- because Jesus Christ this is an aquarium and David will obviously take you to the petting pool.

You two arrived there and my Lord you swore that David was holding back a squeal. The two of you immediately rolled up your sleeves and went over to dip your hands to touch the animals in the pool.

The look you gave Web when you touched a cownose ray-- it was precious.

You also couldn’t hold your excitement as a few more smaller rays glided under the pads of your fingertips.

Then there were the horseshoe crabs and yknow those tiny fish that like swarm your hand and tickle you, yeah those too.

Y’all also chill it out and get to wash the jellyfish. The way the room was dark gave it a whole nother vibe, my loves.

Like in that jellyfish room, you two will most definitely just hold each other while gazing at the glass.

Bro, in the dim room, he’ll just pull you close and place a chaste kiss on your forehead and lips.

The bioluminescence of the jellyfish illuminates Webster’s face, making his features appear more sharp. Simping time commence, you two are a fine af couple.

Now time for the real kicker- It’s shark time

After dragging your ass to almost all of the other exhibits in the aquarium, Webster saved the shark exhibits near the end of the date.

Ohoho, was this boy eUPHORIC-

David is gripping your hand tightly and he’s constantly sending you smiles as you two walk closer to the entrance of the shark exhibit.

This is where Webster ascends out of his body, this is the second time he has (first time was when he met you and started dating).

You share his happiness and the utter vibes comin off from your boyfriend makes you so soft and full of glee.

Yknow his constant face when his eyes are focused on something and his mouth is just slightly parted? Well that is his face most of the time during your time there.

M o r e f a c t s.

Webster did write a wholeass book about them, what did you expect?

The utter passion and fascination in his voice really stands out whenever he talks about these beautiful babies-

Like sure, David sounds happy when he talks about other sea animals, but with sharks? Whole nother level.

It’s one of his biggest quirks and my goodness do you just stand there taking in all his facts as he goes on a tangent about different types of shark species.

The light in his eyes as they trail over as they trail over a sand shark swimming by. He’ll also just stare at a leopard shark while smiling because he loves them.

After leaving the shark exhibit after spending 1 hour in there with your boyfriend, you two decide to go home- But first, y’all buying some things from the giftshop.

Webster will spoil you and will buy you anything you want in the aquarium gift shop.

Wallets beware, you’d also do the same for him.

There was this jellyfish theme hat you saw and you made David try it on- He looked so fucking stupid but like a cute kinda stupid.

You regret not buying it when you had the chance-

However- You two got shark plushies together. You got a tiger shark plushy and he gots a hammerhead.

You two absolutely love them and you could’ve sworn you could’ve just burst from happiness when he showed you the tiger shark plush he got for you.

You two also bought those chonky seal plushies because I mean... I mEAN- Just look at em, they’re stunning of course you and Web had to get em.

With a day well spent with your boyfriend you just wanted nothing more but to lay with David on your bed as you run your fingers through your hair.

So you two leave the aquarium building smiling and laughing. Webster leans in a gives you another soft kiss on your lips and you let out a giggle.

The two of you are noticeably happier, and you two head back to the car. The date ends with your hand in his and your four new plushies in tow.

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

a/n: it’s been so long since I posted a fic or writing of any kind. unfortunately, i’ll have to put a hold on my pt 2 for the roe fic i made and im procrastinating by writing hcs kasjadjk. i decided to make these for some of the lovely people in my discord server. i hope y’all enjoyed these hcs with web!

i love you all very much, stay safe and i send yall another round of my good vibes 😩💕💕

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #david webster x reader #david webster #band of brothers headcanons #hbo war #hbo war x reader #david webster headcanons

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zizi-writes · 3 years

Text

Ouija Board

(This is the first oneshot I’ve posted on here. This wasn’t really a request, it was just an silly little idea I came up with on my own. I would love some feedback or constructive criticism!)

Rated for bad language

~Written in April's journal, told from April's POV~

August 28th,

My Ouija Board Experience,

It was a calm, Friday night. It's been a tradition in the Hamato Lair to have a game night every Friday night ever since I brought "Sorry" a couple weeks after the turtles first brought me the the Lair. The tradition has grown ever since then, as we've made more allies and they've brought new games to the mix. This particular night, the turtles and I were chilling in the living room of the lair, waiting for guests to arrive. We were expecting Casey, Karai, and Shinigami.

One by one, everyone showed up as Raph and Mikey argued over what pizza we should order. They finally settled the argument and Mikey went out to retrieve the pizza. I wasn't paying much attention, I was too wrapped up in the magazine I was reading. Around 7:30, all the guests had arrived, and we were just waiting on Casey to arrive with the new board game he said he'd bring. It was unusual for Casey to buy new games for game night, but none of us put too much thought into it. By this point, Mikey had already come back with the pizzas.

"Come on!" Mikey exclaimed, getting very impatient. "We've been waiting for almost a half an hour now! Where is he!"

"If he takes any longer I'll shove his board game up his-!" Raph was cut off by Casey casually walking in the lair entrance with a shopping bag in hand. "What took you so long?!"

"Sorry dude, the line at the store was huge!"

"What's in the bag?" Leo asked, pointing to the plastic bag dangling in Casey's hand. A square box was bending at the bag, threatening to break the thin plastic open at any moment.

"Oh, just a board game." Well that much was obvious.

Casey took the box out of the bag, purposely hiding the front from us and walked into the kitchen. I glanced over at Donnie, to see that he was just as confused as I am.

"This can't be good." Karai got up from her seat on the couch and made her way into the kitchen. We all followed. The lights were off in the kitchen, and Casey was lighting candles.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing?" Raph asked, obviously annoyed. Casey just snickered.

"I'm setting up the board game." The raven said in a sly tone.

"What's the game?" Leo demanded to know.

"It's a Ouija Board." Casey sang out, not looking up from the last candle he was lighting. The brothers looked at each other. I have played with Ouija boards in the past. I'm pretty sure Karai and Shini have too, so we're not really scared of them. The turtles, however, had never played with one before, and I could tell they were all frightened.

"What!" Leo exclaimed, raising his arms in the air with a distasteful expression. "We can't play with that thing! Those things summon spirits!"

"What, are you too chicken to play?" Raph cackled, a devilish smirk on his face. Even though he was pretending to be brave, I could tell he was just as scared of the game as the rest of his brothers were. "You can't possibly be scared of that thing. It's a harmless board game."

"I'm not scared of it!" Leo defended himself. He looked around at everyone, and saw that none of us were buying it. "Fine, I'll play!"

We all took a seat around the table. The Ouija Board was facing Casey, giving me a 10.5 o’clock view of the board.

"I love these types of games!" Shini exclaimed, unable to hold in her excitement anymore. She opened the box and set it up. "Karai, remember when we contacted a spirit back in Japan?"

"Yeah, the spirit was fucking lame though. He only answered questions with yes or no answers."

"Okay, everyone, put your hand on the planchette." Casey instructed. We all did as he said. "We'll take turns asking questions. Who wants to go first?"

No one else volunteered, so I decided that I would give it a go. "What's your name?" I asked the most basic question I could think of. The planchette sat still for a couple seconds, before it started moving.

A - L - E - X - A - N - D - E - R

The planchette moves across the board to spell out the name 'Alexander'. I see Raph's expression fill with horror directly across from me. When he noticed me glancing at him, he quickly changed his expression back to his normal, annoyed look.

"Who's moving the piece?" Raph shouted, raising up his left arm and keeping his right hand down on the planchette. We all swore up and down that we didn't move the piece. After pressing into Mikey more, Raph gave up on interrogating and we continued the game.

"What year were you alive?" Donnie asked the next question.

1-8-6-2

The planchette moved from number to number, earning looks from everyone sitting around it.

“There’s no way it’s moving on it’s own!” Raphael was skeptical again. Karai just rolled her eyes and asked her question.

“Are you a good spirit or a bad spirit.” The kunoichi asked. The wooden planchette stayed still for a couple seconds before moving.

“No?” Leo asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. “What does it mean ‘no’?”

Crash!

The glass cup that was sitting on the counter behind them fell to the ground and shattered.

“Fuck!” Mikey jumped out of his chair, turning towards the sight. He lifted his hand off the planchette during the process. “How the hell did that happen, bros? I’m freaking out!”

“Calm down, Mikey.” Shinigami placed a comforting hand on his shoulder with a chuckle. “Relax, the spirits can’t hurt you.”

Mikey reluctantly sat back down again. It was Leo’s turn to ask a question.

“What age were you when you died?”

1-1

“Eleven.” I read out loud. “That’s terrible, poor thing.”

“Uh, how’d you die?” Raph asked after a little bit of time to think of a question.

F-I-R-E

The planchette shifted through the letters, spelling out “fire”. I assumed that meant their house burnt down.

I saw the fire flare up from a candle out of the corner of my eye, before it settled back down again. I moved my gaze upwards to see if anyone else caught that, but everyone else was to fixated on the board. I fixed my eyes back down on the board and tried to forget what happened. What the hell is going on with this thing?

It was now Casey’s turn to ask a question. I saw the corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk, which alerted me that whatever he was about to ask, it isn’t going to be pretty.

“How’s hell?” That fucking idiot. The planchette shook but remained on the E where it last moved.

“Casey, you fucking idiot!” Karai voiced my thoughts. “You’re never supposed to a spirit questions about heaven or hell!”

“This is about to get interesting.” Shinigami muttered under her breath.

G-O T-O H-E-L-L B-A-S-T-A-R-D

The spirit spelled out quickly, almost so fast that I couldn’t catch what it was saying. The fire from the candles flared up again. This time, everyone noticed as the glare from the flames bounced off the walls, adding to the creepiness of this all. I ducked down and chose to ignore it.

“Good going Casey, you made it angry!” Raph erupted.

“No, I just made this a little more interesting.” Casey pouted. “You should be glad, this game was boring.”

“Mikey, it’s your turn to ask a question.” Shinigami nudged him with her elbow.

“Uh,” He shifted uncomfortably. “What’s your favorite food?”

F-L-E-S-H

That was when it got even creepier. Flesh? What does it mean flesh?

“That’s it!” Leo jerked his hand off the planchette. “We’re not playing this anymore!”

“You can’t just chicken out now, dude! We have to wait until the spirit says goodbye!” Casey argued. Leo rolled his eyes and placed his hand back down.

“What type of flesh do you want?” Shini asked, because of course she had to ask the creepiest question she could think of.

C-A-S-E-Y-’S F-L-E-S-H

“Who’s moving it?!” Casey hollered out, looking more spooked than anyone else has tonight. “One of you has to be pushing it!”

“Obviously it’s Mikey who’s pushing it. He’s always pulling pranks on us!” Raph points his finger at Mikey in an accusatory manner. Poor Mikey, always getting blamed for everything.

“It can’t be him!” Karai defended the turtle in orange. “His teeth are clattering he’ so scared.” Mikey put his head down in embarrassment. “Plus, who’s to say it’s not you who’s moving it, Raph! You pull these kind of things too!”

“It’s not me!” Raph defended himself, getting more and more heated.

“It could be any of us who are moving it!” Casey spoke up. “The only way we can tell if someone is cheating is if we all put our heads down and let April read it.”

“Why me?” I didn’t want to be stuck reading off of the Ouija Board on my own. But, the more I thought about it, this was the only way we can figure out if this is real or not. “Fine, I’m in.”

Everyone promptly put their heads down and I took my hand off the planchette. I set my phone up to record everything that was happening so I could show them what happened afterwards. It’s my turn to ask a question.

“Uh, d-did you have any siblings?” I asked awkwardly. The planchette moved.

“Holy shit” I muttered, almost speechless. That’s when I realized no one had been cheating. The planchette was actually moving on it’s own.

“What happened?” Leo asked. His voice was muffled into his arm, and it took a second for me to process what he had asked.

“The planchette moved to three.” I mumbled out, my eyes were locked on the planchette.

“No way! You’re just trying to scare us!” Raph countered.

“Look up! It did move!” I defended myself quickly, not wanting to be accused of lying. Raph lifted his head up and scrunched his nose up at the sight, speechless.

“H-.....How?” He muttered, though it was barely audible at all. Mikey lifted his head up and looked, too.

“The spirit is real, bros!” He cried out. Everyone else lifted their heads up and looked at the board in, seeing that the planchette had indeed moved while they had their heads down.

“Maybe.... maybe it’s just a coincidence. How about we all put our heads down and Donnie will ask the next question.” Leo stuttered. He wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. They all put their heads down and Donnie asked the next question. I checked to make sure my phone was still recording.

“What were your sibling’s names?” He asked. I knew he asked that specific question because it required a long answer to be given.

T-H-O-M-A-S J-A-M-E-S P-H-I-L-I-P

I gasped. This confirms that the planchette had been moving on it’s own. The spirit was real. I didn’t know what to say out loud. I was in shock, I didn’t know what to say or do now. In all the other Ouija Board games I’ve played, it’s always been obvious that someone was moving the planchette on their own, and I was okay with that. It was all just fun and games. But this.... this is different.

“What happened?” Casey lifted up his head to look at the board. I was snapped back to reality. All he could see was the planchette resting underneath everyone’s hands on the letter P. “What happened, Ape?”

I grabbed my phone and hit stop recording. Everyone else had lifted their heads up from their arms and gave me questioning looks. I turned on the video and fast-forwarded to Donnie’s question. Mikey leaned over my shoulder to watch while everyone else stood behind me.

“What were your sibling’s names?” Donnie’s voice was muffled through my speaker. There was a strange static noise covering the audio. The planchette was clearly being moved, the letters were a little hard to discern with the bad camera quality. They spelled out exactly what I saw before. Thomas, James, and Philip.

What we saw next scared us all shitless.

A shadowy, small figure, stepped into view at the kitchen door for three seconds before seemingly disappearing into the darkness of the lair.

I could hardly believe my eyes. I questioned what I saw but when I looked at everyone else’s expressions, I knew that it indeed had happened.

After that, we stopped playing. We packed the board away and walked out of the kitchen one by one, going back to whatever activities we were doing before.

Even though we tried to forget, things weren’t really the same after that. Weird things started happening in the lair. Things would fall in the other room, lights would turn on and off, all the basic things you hear about hauntings. But that wasn’t all.

The boys all experienced nightmares and sleep paralysis at night, seeing shadowy figures in the corners of the room or next to their beds. This type of stuff isn’t normal for them.

I’m writing this a month later. I hope things go back to normal soon.

(Oop please give feedback.)

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