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phantomphangphucker · 2 years

Text

Phic Phight - PhantomsPhine’s Writing Is Less Than Phine

For: @sailor-toni @everystarstorm

Paulina is a wee bit obsessed in all honesty, and while she might not be exactly good at it, she’s fine taking out said obsession on the written word while making others have to witness it

Jazz had been sorting what of her final papers for the year that she hadn’t already handed in, when she caught one of the younger students sort of… glancing at her nervously, shifting on her feet even.

The girl was outright beautiful, with long black hair, near-perfect skin, and expensive perfectly colour coordinated clothing; meaning she could only really be Paulina. Didn’t Danny have a crush on her for a short while? Like most of the silly boys at this school? Yeah she’s fairly certain he did; at least he was definitely over it. From what Jazz knew the girl was less than Danny’s type and was very much shallow; at least according to all of Sam’s ranting. She was a pretty face and that was apparently it; Jazz didn’t believe that of course. What she does think is that maybe the girl wanted people to think that; some people put everything on their looks and don’t want to be seen as anything more.

Turning to the girl and quirking an eyebrow, “what’s bothering you? Do you need any university advice or help with one of the teachers?”, Jazz was well aware that she had very little in the friend department, outside of Lillian all anyone really wanted with her was her brains. Just like all anyone wanted with Paulina was her looks; though Jazz’s pretty sure Star and Kwan are genuine friends to her, which is good. Everyone needs genuine friends, even if she didn’t use to believe as such.

Paulina shifts a little more and twirls her hair daintily. The younger girl had perfected the cute act, Jazz will give her that. Paulina walking over and making something of a show of ‘mustering up her courage’, not that Jazz can’t sense how fake the act was. “You brainy types write a lot right?”.

Jazz nods, wondering where this is going. Test writing? Essays! Job or University applications perhaps? How to professionally sign off on emails? What she didn’t expect was for the younger to hold out her phone, decorated in a custom-made 3d pink candy case, with Ao3 on screen.

“What am I doing wrong?”.

Jazz taking the device and eyeing the user name, PhantomsPhine, oh! Was she writing fanfiction! Well that was certainly a wonderful pastime and hobby, self-fulfilling and the act of writing it and reading it would improve anyone's reading comprehension and writing skills; vocabulary too! Scrolling a bit with a hum, making a point to not outwardly wince, she was… not exactly gifted with the written word. The spelling was fine, spell check likely being involved, grammar was… okay, but the word choice and paragraph structures were not great. It was hard to tell who was speaking and when, their tone even harder. There was a lot of ‘wall of text’ going on, which for an essay is fine, for online absolutely not. The ‘“we should probably get up”. “Yup”. “So”. “Fine”.’ line is particularly confusing. There was also a lot of ‘.”,’ and ‘.”.’ which was simply strange looking. The general word choice was, as Danny would say, rather cringey.

But she nearly chokes, smiling slightly, when she finally scrolls past an actual character name: Danny Phantom. This was self-insert romance! Oh Danny would be so embarrassed. But well, self-insert lent itself to being inherently groan-worthy. But she could still offer the girl some help… and then bother Danny about this later. Sitting down at a desk and gesturing with a smile for the younger girl to do the same.

Paulina glances around quickly first, likely making sure she wasn’t going to ‘been seen with the financially worse off’. Paulina plucks back her phone, practically showing off her manicured baby blue nails, and scrolls on her screen quickly before pushing it back at Jazz, “look at this! They’re so mean! To me!”. And Jazz sees why, exactly, Paulina had come to her: a negative review. A really scathing one actually.

‘Get off of here, no one needs to see more horrifically written dribble from some crushing loser who thinks they should get the privilege of writing just because they can type on a keyboard. Do you even know what grammar is? A dictionary? Are you five? If you somehow actually are five then whatever, your parents should take your phone away before you embarrass yourself further. And this dialogue? What cringey hallmark movie teen even talks like that. Do you think not using character names is ‘quirky’, god give me Twilight over this!’.

Jazz frowns, now this was simply mean. Unnecessarily mean. Shaking her head, “people like that give shame to all readers and writers. Unbelievable”, looking to the younger teen, “ignore them”.

Paulina pouts a little, lip wobbling in intentional cuteness, “but… it’s not very good”.

Jazz shakes her head, “No one is good when they start something new. Especially teenagers. If this was publishing quality then I’d tell you that you were truly gifted”, smiling, “sure there is much to be said for natural talent, which I will admit you don’t have”. Paulina twirls her hair a little at that. “But practice wins over natural gifts, particularly when it comes to the arts. Creative writing, drawing, photography, dancing; they’re practice based more than anything else”, shifting and leaning towards the girl some so she can see the screen where Jazz is pointing, “the technical mistakes are simply an awareness thing. Like these periods inside dialogue followed up with periods and commas outside of the dialogue is just a grammar error”.

Paulina shrugs, “I think it looks prettier having the, um, punctuation outside of the dialogue quotes on both sides and not just one”.

“Then get rid of the more grammatically correct punctuation inside the speech”, drawing ‘“…and”, character smiles, “hi…”’ on a bit of paper, “do this instead. Grammar barely matters with free online for fun writing like this. If people don’t like it, ignore them. Write for you first”.

Paulina smiles and hums to herself, “that does look better… prettier”.

Jazz nods to herself, pointing on the screen to a bit when she had written… Phantom elongating his tongue -which was not something she had ever needed nor wanted to read- swallowing a little to seem less weirded out, “and maybe learn more about ghosts, I can tell you that Phantom can’t actually do that; at least not like that at the least. Simply making things more accurate will make it better and it will help you keep things consistent”.

“Oh! Well I guess you would know that”.

Jazz ignores the slight jab. Nodding instead, “and drop using ‘said’ so much, you’re better off not using that word at all than constantly. The dialogue markers already tell the reader that a character is saying something, you don’t need a word to tell them that. Us things that give tone instead. Have them smile or laugh or smirk or giggle. Definitely don’t do more of this ‘she giggled, said, “oh you fox.!”.’. When someone writes a character giggling before saying something it means they are speaking with a giggle, so the ‘said’ is entirely redundant”. Paulina nods along eagerly, well at least she was listening.

…

The two girls manage to talk for a full half an hour actually. Jazz can tell the other girl isn’t exactly used to genuinely paying attention for long periods of time. On learning. Paulina smiling almost pinched, before grabbing her phone rather rudely and standing up, “well thank you bunches, but I should probably go. Star’s probably wondering where her Paulie is!”, skipping to the door before looking back, “you tell no one”.

Making Jazz laugh lightly, “I’m not the gossiping type”.

“Oh I know”.

Jazz sitting for a bit after the girl left before snickering and laughing into her hand. Poor Danny! That girl had it hard for him. Half of him specifically. She is absolutely telling him. And Lillian. She might not be a gossip but that doesn’t mean she keeps everything entirely to herself. Especially when it was a sister's duty to pester their little brother.

It takes her all of five minutes to find Lillian, grinning at her friend who quirks a ginger eyebrow at her. “Well you seem chipper?”.

Jazz nods, “oh yes. One of the underclassmen wanted some help with creative writing, and actually listened to my advice!”, and beams. It was really satisfying in all honesty.

Lillian bumps shoulders with her, “good on them, girl. It’s great when others actually want to learn from you”. Jazz nodding readily, well aware that Lillian wanted to be a teacher someday.

Jazz leaning over to whisper a little, “and all they write is self-insert Phantom fan-fiction”. Lillian actually blushes furiously at that and makes a scandalised look before shaking her head, “that poor whoever. Was it at least creative?”.

“A little too creative”, and winces. Lillian wincing in return, “oh gee, sorry for your brain then”. Making Jazz laugh lightly, “honestly? I think I’d actually love watching my parents read it, just to hear them jump between ranting about inaccuracies about ghosts to the simple fact that it’s romance about a ghost”. Lillian laughs with her readily, easily agreeing that would be something to behold. Either way, the two head off to their university prep class.

---

Jazz corners Danny in his room, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “so, you know how a vast majority of Casperhigh have crushes on you. On Phantom you”.

Danny groans actively, putting on a show of looking to the ceiling and slouching dramatically, “oh Ancients do I ever”, turning to her, “why?”, sounding more than a little suspicious.

Jazz smirks at him, “oh no reason, someone just wanted a little help writing some very interesting self-insert Phantom fan fiction”.

“Oh end me”, glaring at her, “why would you actually help them do that?!?”.

She rolls her eyes, “believe me, it was hard to read. But I am not about to discourage someone’s interest in creative writing just because my little brother’s famous enough to be the subject matter”.

He throws a pillow at her.

Regardless, when Jazz checks to see what new fic PhantomsPhine had posted, maybe due to a desire to simply check in on someone she advised, she’s happy to see there’s already a little improvement. It’s less visually painful… but reading about someone literally snuggling her baby brother's ghostly self was still mentally painful. But at least the writing itself has improved. Small wins.

Having also overheard Danny crying out, “Paulina why?!?”, one night. Also brought a smile to her face, she knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself but look. He pestered her constantly, she was going to get him back here and there.

End.

Prompts: Paulina begins to write self insert x Phantom fanfiction. But she is not a natural writer and after someone leaves a bad review she goes to Jazz for writing advice. and Jazz has friends

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2022 #danny fenton #jazz fenton #paulina #fan fiction about fan fiction #bad writing #advice #crushing #fan fic #phan phic #My writing #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick

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h2bakugou · 4 years

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Maybe a x Baku fic where he and the reader are friends and the reader gets captured in a fight by a villain with similar quirks to Aizawa that only work if he’s touching the victim? Anyway the only way to get out of the situation is for Baku to literally blow the villain away from you.(bonus if the villain is a bit of a creep).The reader gets really hurt so Baku offers to check in on them as he feels kinda guilty but they end up growing close? Fluff and soft ‘in here to protect you now’ ending?x

a/n: ooo yess!! friends to lovers trope with a bit of angst? count me in! thank you for the request, we’re nearing the end and we’ll be able to open back up soon!!

summary: close friends to being caught in a terrible situation, a villain whose quirk works like your homeroom teacher’s, it’s the ultimate equation that brings you closer to bakugou.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, a bit of angst, gore/violence

wordcount: 1.8k

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It was supposed to be a normal Tuesday, similar to other Tuesdays. The ones that sometimes didn’t feel like Tuesdays at all, or felt all too much like a Tuesday. It was the slightly soggy breakfast from heating it up in the microwave after getting up late kind of Tuesday.

It was the forgetting your pencil bag and having to borrow one for Bakugou, who gratefully trusted you with his favorite mechanical one that had the tiniest All Might nod kind of Tuesday.

It wasn’t supposed to be the unreal encounter with a villain whose quirk was to ‘erase’ your quirk by touching you. Similar to Mr. Aizawa, your quirk refused to work if this villain was touching you at all.

This was not the Tuesday you had hoped it would’ve been.

- - -

Six Hours Earlier

Funneling the soggy waffles into your mouth, you tried to ignore the damp and soft texture as it went into your mouth, and also tried to ignore the somehow scalding food as it sat in your mouth.

It was gone quickly, and you were able to catch up to Bakugou as he headed toward the school building.

“Did you enjoy sleeping in, dumbass?” Bakugou looked at you, his hands in his pockets like usual.

“Hey, I stayed up late trying to study because someone goes to bed at eight-thirty.” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You said you were busy when i texted you to see if you wanted to study. It’s your own damn fault.”

“Kaminari suckered me into three games of monopoly! He wouldn’t let me leave until he won.” You sighed. Bakugou rolled his eyes and removed a hand from his pocket. He punched your shoulder lightly and looked at the ground.

“You’ll do fine on this test. Just don’t sweat it. You stress to fuckin’ much.” Bakugou reassured you, which was rare. But in a ‘I have to put up with you’ kind of way, Bakugou was happy to know you’d stayed up studying instead of watching a tv show.

“Thanks. I’ll study with you next time, I promise.” You lifted your pinky and showed it to Bakugou, awaiting his.

“I’m not doing a pinky promise with you.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Please?”

A sigh. You went to pull away when Bakugou’s pinky wrapped around yours and tugged at it tightly.

“You annoy me.” Bakugou grunted, un-twirling his pinky and replacing his hand in his pocket.

During class, the big test you’d feared had finally fallen upon you. And just when things had gotten bad, they got worse.

You didn’t have a single writing utensil on you, because you’d forgotten your pencil pouch of course. Of all things to happen today, it had to be the forgotten pencil pouch.

“Bakugou.” You whispered, leaning over to his desk.

“What?” He huffed, watching as Present Mic passed out papers.

“Can I borrow a pencil? I forgot my pouch at home, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done.” You explain. Bakugou rolls his eyes and shakes his head, lending you the one he had in his hand.

He quickly grabbed out another and you resumed your position in your seat and looked at the pencil.

It looked nice, maybe a bit expensive, for a pencil at least, and the color scheme was odd. It was mechanical, with a little bitty All-Might on it. It was tiny, and probably something he got because it was so low-key.

He really was an All Might fanboy.

The test went smoothly, much smoother than you thought. And when you got your score back at the end of class, you were so happy.

You caught up with Bakugou, and handed him his pencil back.

“Thanks for letting me borrow that, I owe ya one! But look!” You eagerly showed him your score. It was among the highest, only a few marks off from being a perfect score.

“Good job.” Bakugou nodded, slipping his pencil back inside his bag.

“Wanna walk back to the dorms together?” You asked, slipping your test back inside your bag and slinging it around your shoulder.

With a subtle ‘tch’ from Bakugou, the two of you left the class building.

But you were abruptly stopped when the alarms inside started going off. A large explosion caused you and Bakugou to duck from the flying debris.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugou shouted.

“I don’t know!” You called, looking at him worriedly. You tossed your bag and stood back up, charging over to the where the explosion had gone off.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Bakugou grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“Going to help! I can’t just sit here!” You yell, pulling away form him.

“You’re going to get yourself killed dumbass!” Bakugou began running with you, looking at you angrily. He wasn’t made at you, he was just frustrated.

He admired your selflessness.

Upon arriving at the scene, there were a few injured students you managed to help get to safety, handing them to other nearby students so you could get a closer look at what was happening.

An arm emerged from the rubble, seemingly reaching out for help.

As soon as your hand gripped theirs, you felt your body grow weak. Almost like how you felt when Eraserhead used his quirk. A quick scan resulted in one conclusion: he wasn’t even here yet.

“Got ‘cha!” The voice called. A man jumped out and wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you away from the rubble.

“(Y/n)!” Bakugou shouted, opening his palms, ready to charge at the mam.

“No no no!” The man yelled, a firm grip around your throat. You coughed, trying to get air back into your lungs. It was a struggle.

“Such smooth skin, you would be perfect for my collection!~” The man caressed your cheek and all you could feel was sick.

“What do you want?” You asked, your hand gripping at his arm in an attempt to free some space between it and your throat.

“To skin you of course! To store it and sell it! Your skin is delicate and seemingly untouched, it’d be worth a fortune! Let's take a closer look.”

“Don’t fucking touch them!” Bakugou shouted again, waiting for others to get here. They were taking to long.

“Use your quirk already!” Bakugou shouted again.

“I can’t! It won’t work!” You shouted back which resulted in a tighter hold around your throat, sending out more struggled coughs from your airways.

“I don’t see Eraserhead! Why would he-”

“It’s not him silly! It’s me!” The man holding you laughed, his free hand finally reaching around and gripping a knife by your side.

“My touch allows one’s quirk to be blocked. They won’t be able to use their quirk as long as I’m touching them.”

“Get your hands off them you sick fuck!” Bakugou took another step but this was a bad move.

“Take another step and they’ll have 30 seconds to get aid for their severed artery, and frankly, I don’t see anyone around to help unless you can take me out in 5 of those seconds.”

“I’ll be fine! Just go g-get help!” You struggled to speak, your vision becoming spotty from the lack of oxygen.

Think. Bakugou had to think. He was looking for any way to get close to him. But if this guy touched him, he’d be done for. Even without a quirk, this guy looked dangerous, maybe to dangerous for Bakugou to take on quirk-less.

There was one option.

But it would put you in harms way.

“Hold on!” Bakugou screamed, charging for the pile of rubble behind where you were being held.

Using an AP shot, Bakugou obliterated the ground the rubble sat on, sending you and the man flying forward.

It was a big enough gap to give Kirishima, someone who had come to aid at the right time, enough space to grab you from the hold of the villain.

There were going to be several drawbacks though.

- - -

The beeping of a hospital machine was a dull ache in your ears as you rubbed your tired eyes awake.

You’d survived. A few big bruises from the villain’s hold on your throat, plus two broken ribs from Bakugou’s move to save you, as well as a few scrapes and cuts from debris, you were alive and well.

Bakugou stepped into the room, a worried expression on his features. He’d been worrying for about three days straight now, wondering if you were going to hate him, or if you were even going to wake up.

“There’s my hero.” You say softly, smiling at him as he looks at you, holding a small bouquet of flowers.

“I’ve just seen people bring these in movies. I didn’t know what kind you liked.” Bakugou handed you the flowers and sat down in a uncomfortable chair beside your bed.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You lay them in your lap as you look at him. He’s hurt, but physically fine.

“You saved my life Bakugou. Don’t be so hard on yourself. It took more guts to pull that move of than it would have to beat that guy up.” You reached for his hand. Holding it in your own, you rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

“I landed you in the hospital, and for two days you were unresponsive!” Bakugou had teary eyes as he looked at you. You felt your heart ache as you looked at him.

“But I’m fine now. I owe you big time now.” You laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“I hurt you. I never wanted to do that.” Bakugou looked down. His abrasiveness was gone. This was rare for him, but the raw emotion was probably something he’d been bottling up for a while.

“You were my hero. Everyone is okay, and that villain is being locked up. I could never hate you ‘Suki.” You reference his first name in the nickname you call him.

“I just care about you so fucking much-”

You lean up and pull him into you, slamming your lips onto his. You were tired of this being ‘just friends.’ This was something you’d been wanting to do for ages now.

Seeing him like this hurt you more than he thought he’d already hurt you. You loved him with every fiber of your being. And so did he.

Kissing you back, Bakugou felt relieved. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn’t want to cry anymore, nor did he want to continue moping about.

He’d seen and heard that you were okay, so you had to be right?

“You’re such a dumbass.” Bakugou said as he pulled away, hovering in front of your face.

“For what?!” You smile, looking into his crimson eyes.

“For making me fall in love with you.”

“Then I guess I’m the biggest dumbass there is.”

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masterlist

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years

Text

Jealousy Sin

Word Count: 4397

Pairing: Lou Miller x Tammy x Reader - Established Poly Relationship

Prompts “You’re so pretty” “And you are drunk, darling”, “Wait, say that again”, “Go fuck yourself,” “How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!”, “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer”

Warning: NSFW 18+, bad smut writing lmao.

A/N; @existentialcrisiscat thank you for sending in this request and look just in time for your birthday tomorrow! I send you my best wishes and I hope you enjoy this early bday present, July babies are the best!

Thank you @imnotasuperhero for reading over this! Second attempt at poly smut so enjoy the mess lmao!

Permanent Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers

I do not own these pictures!

Prompts 14,16,20,39 “You know that the heart of a shrimp is located in its head and that a snail can sleep for 2 to 3 years continuously,” You excite, reciting from a ‘50 fun facts’ book Constance left lying around the lounge area of Lou’s apartment building. Your back against Tammy’s side with your legs stretched out on the sofa while she twirls a strand of your hair around her finger loosely peeking over to look at the ridiculous book. You hear Lou scoff from the open kitchen, making her way to where you are. She hands you both a glass of wine each before grabbing a hold of your ankles and lifting them up from the sofa so she can sit close to you; your legs now stretched out across her lap.

“That’s ridiculous babe. You read the weirdest stuff.” She teases, tickling your feet lightly making you squirm and yelp slightly at the sudden sensation making her eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Hey! It’s true, see!” You turn the book around for her to read.

“She’s right Lou. They are real facts,” Tammy defends teasing the older woman slightly, knowing that it’s usually you against them. You smile smugly at her as she snatches the book from you grumbling about ‘the mess that girl brings every time she’s round here’ making you and Tammy laugh. The back and forth exchange continues for some time as you all enjoy a rare peaceful night in; with another successful heist for the two woman and your new promotion underway, the lighthearted mood continues into the late night with loving kisses exchanged and sweet caresses as you all stumble into bed, tangled up in sheets and limbs as hot wet kisses are pressed on warm glistening skin.

Being with Lou and Tammy for the past six month has been the most wonderful ride you have ever been on and you never want it to stop.

Pure Paradise

Two weeks later

Over the past two weeks the little bubble you three had created started to show cracks leaving you feeling insecure and down right pissed off. You see, being with two women who lead a life of crime no matter how elegantly and successfully they do it, can be difficult. Their planning has to be precise with no page left unturned, if one thing goes wrong it could mean prison for them and no one wants that. They’ve only ran one big heist since you started dating but you were in your honeymoon phase with them back then, they could do no wrong in your eyes. The less frequent phone calls and texts were justified when the two women hung the moon in your mind:

‘It’s a big job they have. They need to focus and make sure it goes right, they still love and care for you the same, Y/N’. Debbie would remind you quietly away from the others, always aware and seeing behind the fake persona.

“You are not going out, Y/N. That’s final.” You stand in your black turtleneck dress and heels, arms crossed in defiance.

“Yes, I am. I’m celebrating my promotion with my colleagues whether you two like it or not.”

“Come on, darling. Stay with us we had this reservation booked for tonight for weeks,” Tammy pleads slightly a little confused by your decline. You usually love date nights, especially when it involves the two of them and food from your favourite restaurant.

“Why are you being like this Y/N? You’ve been distant the last week and a half and don’t think we haven’t noticed you sneaking out of our room in the middle of the night to sleep in the guest room.” You scoff at the word ‘our’.

‘It hasn’t been our room for the last two weeks’ You think spitefully.

“Why do you even care Lou! You and Tammy have been so busy with each other the past two weeks, you barely noticed me leave last week for TWO DAYS Lou. It took two days for either of you to message me and then when I am here you’re both hovering over building prints and potential crew members, I understand that this isn’t something I’m a part of but you could at least act like me not being a part of this doesn’t affect our relationship!” You shout aiming your anger at both women. While Tammy has the decency to look guilty and slightly apologetic, Lou’s face turns hard and cold.

“I’m sorry if our job has taken an importance over yours for once! We thought you understood what you were getting yourself into when we asked you to be a part of our lives Y/N, stop being a clingy brat and grow up.” Lou rages, her chest raising and falling heavily. Tammy takes a step forward to chastise Lou for her burst of anger but before she can intervene you hold up a hand indicating for Tammy to stop as you chuckle humorlessly with unushered tears, speechless. You shake your head in disbelief before grabbing your clutch and rushing for the door and heading into the night.

***

The bar is crowded, full of warm bodies pressed closely together as the dim blue lights glow over the dance floor. You feel the rush of alcohol swarm your mind making you dizzy as you sway lightly to the beat of the sound, you notice your phone illuminate with missed calls and worried texts from your significant others. Your pissed and upset state had quickly changed once you had hit your first bottle of wine and twirled around on the dance floor with your colleagues after some time and a few tequila shots later, the fight you had with them seems miles away. You feel funny and brave as you see Tammy’s name flash on your phone and press the green icon to answer.

“Well... hello gorgeous,” You flirt, your voice deep and slurred.

“Y/N? I can’t hear you much. Darling, please tell me where you are so I can come and get you and bring you home to us?” You scoff at that before stumbling towards the smoking area by the front of the club.

“Tam-Tam, I’m fine. Apparently I’m a brat and this is what brats do right?” You mock, hearing Lou sigh slightly in the background:

‘Is that her? Let me talk to her’ You hear Tammy hush her as if batting her hand away from the phone making you giggle.

Tammy has always been the calmer mediator between you and Lou.

‘You drive her crazy with your bratty ways Y/N’ Tam teased one evening her hand wrapped tightly around your waist as you shrugged in fake innocence while watching Lou struggle to contain herself from across the room at her makeshift bar where she stood with Rose and Debbie, you and Tammy knew that the dress you were wearing was a little on the short side and showed your chest off beautifully driving them both wild, especially Lou.

“Baby you know she didn’t mean it… you know how hot headed she can get,” Tammy murmurs, bringing an offended ‘hey’ out of Lou in the background. You roll your eyes and huff, knowing how right she is.

“Why don’t you tell me where you are darling? We miss you,” Tammy confesses softly, making your heart flutter slightly. But with dutch courage in your system, you simply roll your eyes.

“Well it doesn’t feel like you have missed me at all,” You murmur, leaning heavily against the wall of the club watching the nightlife before you.

“You know that's not true and I’m only going to ask you this one more time Y/N. Where are you?”

“Eye spy with my little eye, something being with L.” You giggle at your attempt of humour giggling loudly as Tammy huffs on the other side of the phone.

“Hilarious babe, really.”

“You're supposed to say Lamppost,silly!” You exclaim, hiccuping in between your sentence making you giggle once more.

“I’m coming to get you,” Tammy states, you can hear her moving around as if gathering her keys and heading for the door but not before hearing her and Lou argue about who’s going to get you. You sigh in defeat, knowing you have had far too much to drink and secretly want to go home so you can wrap yourself up in their warmth.

“I’m at Russo’s.” You mumble, sulking in defeat before hanging up. Your colleague Matt pops his head out of the door scanning the smoking area, looking for you. He sees you and waves before striding over.

“Hey Y/N! Come back inside, Lucy is bringing another round to the table. We’re celebrating in style tonight sweetheart.” You cringe subtly at the pet name before smiling weakly at him.

“I’m actually waiting for my ride. I think I’ve reached my limit for the night.” You try to joke making him laugh a little too much, he steps closer to you and leans against the wall next to you as he lights a cigarette before offering you one. You shake your head in decline before scanning the street hoping to see Tammy’s ‘soccer mom’ car.

“You look amazing tonight, by the way. Those two women sure are lucky.” Matt compliments, his eyes scanning you from head to toe lingering too long on your chest making you wrap your leather jacket around you, hiding from his lustful look. You step back to try and put some distance between you.

“Oh uh, thank you and if anyone should be the lucky one it’s definitely me.” You state trying to put the point across.

Fuck off!

“Have you ever thought of expanding this ‘little relationship’ to four people or is it a women’s only type of thing?” You gape at him in disgust as he shrugs his shoulders and smiles cheekily thinking he’s being charming. Before you can retaliate you feel a strong arm wrap around you from behind, making you smile slightly knowing that familiar pull of electricity.

“We are perfectly happy with the three of us Mr.Lawson, if you would kindly remove yourself away from my girlfriend before I send you back in there with an even higher pitched voice than before that would be much appreciated,” Tammy suggests, her voice hard and commanding making you shiver slightly at her authoritative tone. She stands tall in her heels, putting herself slightly in front of you, blocking his view of you. You watch as he gulps and stutters over his words, his face red in embarrassment as he stumbles an apology before heading back inside. You go to tease her about throwing her top energy around like that in front of others outside of the bedroom but her face shows that she’s in no laughing mood, you throw her your most doe eyed look making her sigh in defeat; never being able to stay mad at you.

“Come on baby, let’s get you home.” She mutters into your ear as she pulls you closer to her side while guiding you over towards her car.

You fumble around trying to get comfortable in the seat, once situated you relax against the warm seat as it heats up around you making you sigh contently. You lean your head to the side and face Tammy, taking in her soft features and full lips as the street lights hit her side profile making her look like an angel.

“You’re so pretty,” You mumble to her, as you brush a finger across her cheek lightly and tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“And you are drunk, darling,” She teases back dismissively, although her soft smile and tinge of pink on her cheeks shows how affected she is by your statement. You grin lazily at her as you feel sleep succumb bringing you into darkness.

***

You wake by the sound of Tammy’s whispering voice coaxing you awake.

“Come on darling, you need to wake up. You can’t stay in here all night,” She whispers, shaking you slightly.

“5 more minutes, mom.” You mumble, turning away from her making her laugh out loud which causes you to wake, eyes wide at your slip up.

“Wait, say that again.” She asks, subtly getting her phone out.

“You better put that phone away Tammy or I’m going to stay with Debbie for the night.” You threaten, knowing how jealous her and Lou get whenever Debbie flirts with you to tease her best friends; which you are more than happy to go along with. She scowls playfully.

“Fine fine, come on then, you lightweight. We better get in before Lou sends out a search party for the both of us.” She murmurs, climbing out of her side and walking around to help you out of the car. You frown suddenly realising that it was only Tammy who came to get you.

“Is she still really mad at me?” You ask sadly, starting to sober up slightly and relaying the fight from earlier in your head.

Tammy helps you out of the vehicle and wraps an arm around your waist before giving you a reassurance kiss on your temple.

“Yes… but not as pissed off as she was earlier on. She… we both know we’ve been rather neglectful of you lately and we promise to make it up to you.” She confesses, her eyes showing how sorry she is.

“I’m sorry for acting out like I did… I know how important it is to make sure the job runs smoothly, I should have been more understanding. I’m sorry Tam-Tam.’ You apologise, pecking her cheek lightly.

You both walk steadily through the front door but stop in your tracks when you notice Lou sitting casually on one of the single chairs in the living room area, her legs spread wide in her black suit pants and white open button shirt revealing a peek of her black bra making you and Tammy gulp.

“Lou I..” She holds her hand up, silencing your apology.

“Did he touch you?” You frown in confusion not fully understanding her meaning.

“Who?”

“That guy from work, did he touch you?”

“How do you know about th-”

“Nine-ball,” you all say in unison, although Lou and Tammy’s casual tone in answer contrasting with your pissed off one doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman.

“You were checking up on me through the security cameras!? Nice to know that not only am I a selfish brat, I'm also an unloyal one,” You snap towards them both as Tammy reaches for your hand, making you step back.

“You know that’s not the reason, love. We didn’t know where you were, we needed to make sure you were safe,” Lou reasons for them both while Tammy nods in agreement, moving towards the middle space between you and Lou.

“Oh because you care so much, fuck you both and your possessive asses.” You snapped in reply.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen me possessive yet sweetheart.” She says cockily as Tammy hums in agreement, clearly staying mutual within this argument you think sarcastically.

“Well maybe I should go back out there and find him then, let’s see the real Tammy and Lou.“ You taunt, watching as both Tammy and Lou’s eyes flash dark, making your confident smug attitude flutter slightly.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lou spats clearing hitting a nerve, making you retaliate.

“How about you fuck me yourself, you coward?!” You fight back, not realising that during your heated argument Tammy had slowly made her way behind you. You watch as Lou’s tense figure deflates. Her crystal blues flash with lust, swallowing quietly knowing that look all too well; the look that haunts your wet dreams whenever you’re apart from them.

“Is that what you want Y/N, you want us to show you who you belong to?” Lou questions grinning slightly, knowing that's exactly what you want while standing from the chair and stalking over towards you. She rolls up her sleeves slowly revealing the tattoos on her forearm as Tammy stands behind you placing her hands on either side of your hip keeping you in place, smirking knowingly. You shiver in anticipation, loving when they both take control over you.

“I dunno Lou. Do you think she deserves it after the stunt she’s pulled tonight?” Tammy questions Lou as if you weren’t trapped between the two women as Lou creeps dangerously closer, you bite your lip trying to hold back a moan as you feel Tammy’s wet tongue trace the shell of your ear. You watch as those blue eyes grow darker as they follow the direction of Tammy’s tongue carefully. Lou presses her front against your own; chest to chest, her nose brushing over yours before moving over your cheekbone and towards your ear, you watch from the corner of your eye as Tammy and Lou share a heated kiss over your shoulder making you groan loudly. This seems to draw their attention away from each other, their matching grins doing nothing to help the creeping wave of pleasure that ignites deep within your core.

“Oh look Tam, it seems our darling girl wants our attention. Do you think we should give it to her?”

‘Yes!’ You scream internally. Tammy laughs and takes sympathy to your doe-eyed expression gently cupping your face and turning you slightly towards her so she can place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I think we should... Besides we owe her an apology, I’m sure we can make it up to her.” Tammy mutters between placing quick wet kisses along the side of your jaw and neck. With that Lou swoops in and lifts you over her shoulder making you yelp out loud causing Tammy to giggle at her girlfriend’s actions before she slaps your ass and shushes you while she races ahead up the stairs, her hips swaying showing Lou her plump behind. You hear Lou growl low at Tammy’s teasing demeanor as she follows slowly after her up the stairs mindful of you being over her shoulder.

“Oh, am I just some sort of slave that you can carry around, you caveman?” You accuse, earning you a slap on the ass.

“Ow! Watch it Miller. You know how tender my ass is,”

“And I can’t wait to see that gorgeous ass all red on our bed, baby.” You squirm at that making Lou chuckle.

She carries you into your shared bedroom before slowly lowering you down making you brush fronts as your feet touch the ground. She places a tender kiss to your mouth before looking over your shoulder and grinning, her eyes filled with glee and admiration. You turn around to face the bed, understanding Lou’s expression. Sitting upright against the headboard on top of satin sheets wearing a black lingerie babydoll set is Tammy. You lick your lips at the sight of her, drinking her in.

“Did you have this on underneath those ‘mom’ clothes?” You tease, watching her roll her eyes at your poorly timed humor, loving it nevertheless. Her smirk confirms your suspicions. You watch as she slowly makes her way towards you both crawling on her hands and knees until she reaches the bottom of the bed, she kneels tall and beckons you both closer. You follow her call like a pirate to a siren as you are about to touch her, Lou wraps an arm around you, her chin against your shoulder.

“You are far too overdressed,” she whispers huskily into your ear, as she slowly unzips the back of your dress letting it fall to the floor in a heap before placing sweet kisses along your shoulder blades and spanking your ass hard. You close your eyes at the sensation and the feeling of cold air hitting against your warm skin, you feel a second pair of hands skim over your front tracing light touches across your chest before wrapping gently around your neck pulling your forward an inch as full luscious lips meet your own making you both moan in unison. You open your eyes and meet deep brown pools so full of love and passion.

“Now, who's the one overdressed?” You tease making Tammy smirk mischievously before you both draw your attention to Lou who has left staggered marks along your neck and shoulder. She pulls away slightly and smirks as she unfastens the buttons of her dress shirt, you crotch in front of her and yank her suit trousers down in one sweep letting her step of them, you kiss your way back up her body while Tammy pushes her shirt off her shoulders, leaving us all equally in some state of undressed. Tammy grabs hold of your hand and pulls you towards the bed letting you fall onto your back as she crawls to lie beside you leaving trails of kisses up your body, you eye Lou who stands tall and confident at the foot of the bed in just her briefs; her bra now discarded into the pile of clothes on the floor. She slowly makes her way onto the bed as she licks, bites and kisses her way up your leg towards your inner thigh making you moan and clench slightly.

“You can only cum if one of us says okay baby girl.” Tammy commands softly into your ear, you whimper and nod your head in agreement as Lou pulls your panties down your leg before placing a light kiss against your wet heat making you shudder at the sensitive flesh. Before you could catch your breath Lou dives her tongue deep into your entrance, fucking you with her tongue as Tammy wraps her mouth around your sensitive nipple biting gently, making you moan out loud with pleasure. They both continue their tongue motion over and over again making your body hot and wet with need for release but with Tammy’s words swirling around in your head, you hold off from releasing your pleasure. Lou slowly removes her tongue from your wet folds and presses a kiss on your clit before soaring forward to Tammy and kissing her hard and clumsily letting her tongue tangle with hers, they both moan enjoying the taste of you. You lick your lips at the raw sight of them both above you and whine for their attention as they both look back towards you once again.

“Come on now. Dear. Let’s not torture her any longer,” Tammy teases, pulling away from Lou’s lips.

Lou moves to your other side and lets her tongue skim across your bottom lip before pressing her pale lips more firmly against your own, you feel another pair of lips on your own; the taste of vanilla lingers on your mouth knowing Tammy has joined you both in the fight for dominance as tongues tangle and clash together. You pull apart slowly savouring the moment before Tammy moves south towards your legs, wrapping her delicate hands around your ankles and pulling you further down the bed slightly. You frown in confusion before realising she was making room for Lou to sit comfortably above you with her thighs on either side of your face, you can see her arousal from above you making you whimper in want, licking your lips eagerly. You can practically hear the smirk in her voice:

“Always so eager baby,” she teases, lowering herself a little bit more towards your awaiting mouth. You flick the tip of your tongue over her clit making her squirm and gasp you grin smugly knowing exactly where she likes it the most before taking the sensitive bundle of nerves between your teeth and wrapping your mouth around it, sucking hard. Your mouth releases her clit momentarily as you gasp at the feeling of two cold fingers filling your entrance and curling, hitting your most sensitive spot making you cry out as Tammy picks up her pace.

“So wet and needy tonight darling.” She mutters before diving between your legs and taking your clit into her mouth. You feel Lou’s thighs tighten a fraction around your head making you refocus back onto the enjoyable task of making Lou come. You all continue to rile each other up, picking up your pace, thrusting your tongue deeper into her heat as you grind your hips further onto Tammy’s fingers. Tammy moans as she moves to sit in between your thigh as you bend your knee just enough to add pressure against her wet folds allowing her to grind herself against your bare skin, you bring your thumb over to her clit rubbing the sensitive nerves hard making her moan loudly. The room fills with loud cries of passion as desperate bodies continue to thrust against one another, the knot in your stomach begins to become tighter, you squint your eyes trying to hold off your orgasm.

“Come for us baby, I want to hear you scream.” Lou breathes above you as she grinds hard one more time before allowing her own release. Lou removes herself from above you and lies lazily on her side facing you both, rubbing her fingers over her heat while she watches you and Tammy continue to grind roughly against one another; your fingers working faster and deeper as you both throw your head back in pure ecstasy letting yourself ride out your orgasm on Tammy’s fingers. Tammy collapses against your glistening skin leaning her head against your shoulder as you brush your fingertips softly against her back making her purr ever so slightly. Lou moves from her position and sits upright against the headboard gesturing for you both to join her, Tammy removes herself from your lap as you crawl over to Lou’s awaiting arms and curl into her side. Tammy moves to your other side and drapes an arm over your waist resting her hand gently on Lou’s hip, brushing her thumb back and forth; resting her forehead between your shoulder blades. You feel Tammy’s warm breath against your glistening skin as she speaks softly.

“You belong with us Y/N. Don’t ever think we don’t love you or want you...we wouldn’t be us without you” With that said, she presses a light kiss to your back while Lou hums in agreement pulling you closer, her arm reaching across locking you in between their embrace, you smile cheekily.

“So does this mean I’m still a brat?”

A slight pinch to your hip bone is your only reply.

#lou miller x reader #tammy x reader #I'm a hoe for lou miller and Tammy #prompt request #oceans 8 #lou x tammy #poly relationship #smut fic #cate blanchett x reader #sarah paulson x reader

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little-writings · 3 years

Note

MC adopts a puppy and Yoosung is jealous of the puppy

It’s been way too long since I’ve shown Yoosung any love, so I’d love to write this for you! Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

You’d stumbled upon the puppy on your way from work.

You nearly swerved off the road at the sight of a tawny, long-haired pup stranded in the middle of the street. You’d jumped out without a second thought and for all the honking horns and yelling drivers that’d stuck their heads out of their windows, you didn’t regret it.

The puppy was a spaniel mix, long, droopy ears and fur full of curls with paws a little too big for his body. He was a mess, and dirt mottled his coat where the ribs just barely protruded against your fingers.

And yet despite all he’d so clearly been through, his eyes were still so full of warmth. It’s tail – consisting only of a short nub – even began to wag at the sight of you. He had been through so much and clearly had so much more love to give in spite of it all.

You’d snuck him back in your car and brought him home, all the while the little puppy attempting to scamper across the front seats before settling in your lap. When you’d brought him inside he’d stumbled across the wooden flooring, gawking about like it was the grandest sight he’d ever seen.

This wide-eyed, excited gaze quickly vanished when you gave him a bath. Like most puppies, he wasn’t a fan, whining and making unsuccessful attempts to climb out. He was only happy once again when you lifted him up, dripping with water and curls already beginning to twirl once again.

Yoosung had come home when you’d wrapped up the puppy in a towel. He’d nearly passed by you in the bathroom when he’d jerked back at the sight of the small dog cradled in your arms. He adjusted his glasses confusedly, peering so forward he ended up tripping over the bath mats. He slid forward against the wooden floor, funnily over, ending up just overlooking the pup.

“Oh!” His eyes lit up. He tapped against the puppy’s snout playfully, laughing at one of his oversized paws attempting to return the gesture. “And who’s this?”

“I hope you don’t mind! I-I just found him and couldn’t leave him there in the street…”

“That’s how you found him? The poor thing!” Yoosung gasped. “How could anyone just toss you away~?”

A part of your heart always melted at the sight of Yoosung fawning over animals. Most days during work he’d send you pictures of all the pets being brought in – from cats, dogs, rabbits, and even birds. Each and every time Yoosung would barely be able to text in how overwhelmed he was by how each and every animal was insurmountably adorable. You often wondered how he managed to get through all his appointments.

“I was thinking we could keep him, at least until we come up with any other plan?” You tapped your feet against the tile floor in anticipation. “Please?”

Yoosung didn’t stand a chance.

Soon enough, the stray you’d taken in was given the name ‘Cinnamon’. And quickly, you and Cinnamon became inseparable. He followed you wherever you went, little legs awkwardly chasing after you and trying to climb into your lap at every opportunity.

In fact, every time you were with Yoosung, Cinnamon found a way to sneak himself between the two of you.

The first time was during that very first evening. You were sitting together on the sofa, a movie playing that you two inevitably chattered all throughout. Even if you’d try to pay attention during films, Yoosung would always whisper questions into your ear, causing you two to spiral into snickering and utterly off track.

The two of you were distracted once again, Yoosung remembering a joke he’d heard earlier in the day and suddenly eager to tell you. He leaned against you on your two cushions of the sofa that caused you both to only sink further – Yoosung practically laying on top of you by the end of it. The more he tried to tell you the joke in that hushed, giggly voice the more it made you laugh.

When Cinnamon noticed, well he wanted to know what was so amusing. He began pawing at the side of the couch anxiously, tail wagging and even his far-too-long ears perking up.

Of course, you sat up – causing Yoosung to too, rise. You lifted up Cinnamon and he covered you in kisses, and admittedly, took the whole of your attention. By the end of the movie, he’d fallen asleep in your lap where one could hear the faintest snoring.

Yoosung had compromised by resting his head against your shoulder, occasionally pressing kisses to your neck. Every time you could see frustration bubbling up inside of him, Cinnamon yawned or stretched his paws just so against Yoosung’s leg and your husband settled back down.

The next time was simply minutes later that night when the two of you made your way to bed, Cinnamon still cradled in your arms. Yoosung’s hand hung gingerly at the end of your shirt, keeping you close. It was a habit he gained after losing you so often in crowds, and in his sleepiest moments.

You’d both collapsed against the bed the second you were able. Sheets were loosely pulled back only to ‘plop’ on top but you could’ve cared less as long as long as your head still hit the pillow.

Cinnamon started in your arms, but that was until he started to climb. You couldn’t stop laughing as this tiny puppy began trying to climb over your neck and shoulders. How could anyone?

Well, Yoosung didn’t find it quite as funny. However, this might’ve been for the simple fact that when CInnamon did manage to make it over your shoulders, he landed on Yoosung, trying to pull you close.

Yoosung snorted as paws and hair were suddenly smothering his face. It was pure luck that Yoosung managed to grapple the puppy in his hands before jerking back in alarm. You twisted around to see Yoosung pressing his nose to Cinnamon’s, cheeks puffing out and nose wrinkled.

“You are so lucky you’re cute.”

Cinnamon barked in response, and Yoosung couldn’t hide the smile it brought.

“Let me cuddle MC…!” Yoosung groaned, squeezing one of Cinnamon’s pads. “You got them this evening!”

You heard a fussy growl.

“This is not up for negotiation!”

Yoosung planted Cinnamon at the foot of the bed, but the puppy would wrestle with Yoosung’s feet beneath the sheets all night in outrage.

In the morning, Cinnamon had squeezed himself between the two of you, and once again declared himself the victor of the fight.

This situation carried on again and again for the following days. Yoosung, constantly battling between his obvious love for you and the utter adorableness of the puppy, and Cinnamon, who was blissfully unaware.

It’d occurred when You and Yoosung were cooking dinner. He’d been making an effort to teach you, and soon it’d become a weekly tradition to try something new. Tonight was Japchae, and while Yoosung managed the beef you were handling the noodle simmering in the boiling pot.

Yoosung, knowing the recipe well enough to do it with his eyes closed, often found himself distracted. This distraction was sneaking kisses. Each time you nearly spilled the pot in surprise, but you supposed you didn’t entirely mind the affection.

With so much going on above him, Cinnamon, naturally, became curious. He tapped at your pant leg until you took notice. You lifted him up, holding Cinnamon close to your chest and allowing him to look over the whole kitchen counter. His eyes widened like dinner plates at the smells, especially that of the beef marinade. Soon enough, his jaw was hanging in delight and his tail was wagging rapidly.

“What’s he doing?” Yoosung asked, now slicing carrots into short, thin strips. “What if he sheds onto the noodles?”

You hid part of your face behind Cinnamon, tipping the pup from side to side playfully. “That’s why he’s staying close to me!”

Yoosung huffed. “He’s going to ruin the dish! He’ll slobber in the water!”

“No, he won’t! Cinnamon is very well-behaved!” You raised your voice to be higher, mimicking what you thought Cinnamon’s voice would’ve been. Perhaps you were lucky Cinnamon had no idea that was what you were doing, because you felt rather silly. “‘Yes I am, Mr. Yoosung! I’ll be good’!”

“Yeah, you will! You’ll be good at taking up all of their attention!” He tapped Cinnamon’s snout, frowning.

At that moment it clicked, and you grinned. You took a few steps closer to Yoosung, pushing forward Cinnamon’s leg to smush against Yoosung’s cheek.

“‘Are you jealous of me, Mr. Yoosung~?”

Your husband’s cheeks began to burn a bright red. “I-I am not jealous of a dog!”

You lowered Cinnamon back to your chest, doing your absolute best to swallow your laughter. “Oh my gosh, you’re jealous of the dog.”

“I am not!” Yoosung’s voice got higher and higher with embarrassment.

“Did you think I would leave you for Cinnamon? He’d become the sole focus of my life and leave my dear husband in the dust?”

Yoosung made a humiliating groan. “It sounds so silly when you say it like that!”

You snickered and set Cinnamon on the ground before kissing Yoosung, the man leaning so forward into you, you both almost tumbled over the counter. When you parted, your foreheads still pressed against one another and flecks of his golden curls brushing against your cheeks.

“It might’ve been a little silly.”

You were actually broken apart by Cinnamon, winding between your legs and barking, eager to be brought back up. It was a request that couldn’t be denied, and Yoosung hoisted him up, the puppy licking his fingers and yipping excitedly.

Yoosung could never resist an animal for long. And at that moment, Cinnamon went from a guest to a part of your family.

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Part 6-Shape of My Heart

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Falling in love with someone you can never have is the worst feeling in the world...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @drewswannabegirl @teamnick @jiaraendgame @agirlwholovescoffee @outerbongs @jaxxandcomet @velyssaraptor @baby-pogue @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @must-be-a-weasley-92 @kaitieskidmore1 @ma10427 @ifilwtmfc @lasnaro @justcallmesams @judayyyw @lonely-kermit @gviosca @iamaunicorn4704 @jellyfishbeansontoast @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @eb15 @hurricane-abigail @tangledinsparkles @fandom-phaser @sunwardsss @http-cherries @bibliophilewednesday @evaporatedrosepetals @thetomatosaucee @tomatosauceagent @redosmo @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @obx-direction-sos @mxltifandoms06

Part 5 Part 7

Note: Big shout out to my friend @jeyramarie for helping me edit this! She’s the best, make sure to go check her page out! I’ll be putting out more prompt requests tonight as well!

=========================================

The girls decided to take me out shopping, wanting to get out of the house for a little bit. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t avoiding Rudy after the events a few days ago, our almost kiss still engraved thoughts into my brain. There was more to the story than what I provided the Maddie’s and Mo with the other day...

Let me provide a bit of back story:

I was 11 years old the first time I was called ugly. I had developed a crush on one of my cousins best friends, asking him if he could possibly give me his number. When I asked why he wouldn’t he said ‘you’re ugly and fat’. I was struck with sadness, crying the rest of the day. I hated the way I looked from that moment on, no matter what I wore, how I fixed my hair, or how much makeup I put on...I still felt ‘ugly’.

Then came High School, the years of broken hearts. I stupidly fell for the senior bad boy, falling into his trap. I had finally mustered up the courage after about 6 months of us texting and hanging out to admit my feelings for him. He shot me down immediately, saying that he ‘wasn’t ready for commitment’. I was crushed, putting off boys for good.

My freshman year of college, I met a boy named Nick. He was my age, and we worked at the same retail establishment. Nick did some damage, scaring my mental mind. We became good friends, having the same personality and liking a lot of the same things. A few months in, he started to express romantic interest in me. He would hold my hand, call me cute nick names, play with my hair, and ya know stuff that would make anyone think a guy is interested.

I had told one of my co workers about our situation, her advising me to shoot my shot. I had planned on telling him that night how I felt, until he came and found me before I had got off work. He told me that he never felt any romantic way towards me, that it was all a game to make the fat girl fall for him so that he could crush my heart. I was floored by this, wondering what I could have possibly done to deserve that.

When I met Rudy, I couldn’t help but fall for him. His natural sense of humor matching mine made me feel things I didn’t think I could ever feel again. I pushed away those feelings however, it wasn’t worth the risk. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship because of a silly crush.

=======================================

I was startled from my thoughts when Rudy appeared to my side out of nowhere, taking my hand in his. I smiled as he intertwined our fingers, waving out locked hands back and forth dramatically.

We shopped ‘til we dropped, Chase now starting to complain about agreeing to come. Our stop at Sephora was the best though, the boys walked in with confused looks on their faces. Rudy trailed behind me as I walked each aisle, picking up random stuff to ask me what it is.

“Baby, what’s this? Why does it look like a marker?” he inquired, holding up eyeliner.

“That’s eyeliner, that’s what I used to do this.” I explained, pointing to my winged liner. An employee came up to us, both of us turning to smile at her.

“I just have to say, you two are the cutest couple.” she grinned.

“Oh we’re not-” I started, my eyes widening.

“Thank you very much.” Rudy said, grinning at her.

I eyed him as she walked away, rolling my eyes at his cute grin. He hugged me from behind, kissing my head soundly. I giggled, pushing him away playfully. I walked up to the counter, laying my stuff on the counter. I was digging through my purse for my credit card when I heard the telling sound of the receipt printing, looking to see Rudy putting his wallet back in his pocket. I glared at him, thanking the cashier as we walked away.

“You asshole, that was probably $100 worth of shit.” I huffed, digging out some cash to give him.

“I wanted to buy it for you.” he stated, shrugging his shoulders. I tried to hand him the money, but he ignored me.

“Rudy,” I snapped, shoving the money in his back pocket.

“Woah babe! If you wanted to touch my ass, all you had to do was ask.” he winked, smoothly putting the money back in my purse.

“Do not buy me anything else, I mean it.” I said firmly, stomping out of the store.

“We’ll see about that.” he smirked, holding the door for both of us.

==================================

I had bought a new outfit for the house party we were having tonight, actually feeling confident in myself for once. I had bought a lilac cropped halter top and paired it with some ripped jean shorts, topping it off with some white and black Adidas sneakers. I touched up what makeup I was wearing, Maddie B and Mo coming in. I smiled at the couple, twirling in my outfit for them.

“Dang girl look at you!” Mo cheered.

“Y/n, you look STUNNING!” Maddie B gasped, her hands crossing over her heart.

“I’m happy you pushed me out of my comfort zone, I feel pretty for once.” I said bashfully, my cheeks flushing from their compliments. Maddie C poked her head in, her eyes and mouth popping open.

“Oh my god y/n! Rudy for sure is hittin’ it tonight sister!” she praised, coming over to hug me.

“Oh please,” I scoffed.

“I saw how you guys acted today,” she raised her brow.

“He was just being friendly Mad,” I sighed.

“Who’s being friendly?” Rudy asked, the girls piling out of the room the second he came in.

He walked further in the room, his eyes widening when he took a full look at me. His gaze burned my skin, feeling it crawl over every inch. I looked down at my feet, shuffling them as I couldn’t take the heat. I felt my face burning, no doubt red as a tomato.

“You-....you look-” he stuttered.

“Bad?” I asked.

“God no! I...I’m speechless.” he laughed.

“Did little ole me make THE Rudy Pankow tongue tied?” I taunted, his cheeks beginning to match mine.

Rudy came closer, taking my hand in his. He held it up so I could twirl, a low whistle coming from his lips. I giggled, beaming at the man in front of me. He pulled my arms around him, his going to my hips. I felt the tension in the room rise as we gazed intently into each other’s eyes.

“You look amazing, beautiful.” he whispered, his blue eyes sparkling.

“Thank you,” I murmured, tilting my head down.

“Hey, these shots are going to drink themselves!” JD yelled, causing both Rudy and I to cackle.

I was a few shots in, feeling a bit tipsy already. Rudy had talked me into being on his team in beer pong, facing off against Chase and JD. I hesitated only because I hadn’t played since the last time I saw them.

“Babe come on please!” he begged.

“Yeah BABE!” JD said dramatically, earning a glare from Rudy.

“I guess it won’t hurt for me to give it a go.” I caved, picking up the ball.

We were in the middle of the game when Elaine walked in with Drew and Austin, my mood dropping slightly. She hugged everyone hello, saving Rudy for last. He side hugged her while she threw herself in his arms, both of them stumbling slightly. They laughed as they pulled away, and she laid a sloppy kiss on his cheek. I felt my heart crush a little, turning back to the game.

Rudy and I won surprisingly, double high fiving with the winning shot. The girls were tired of the boys, so they stole me to take me to the designated dance floor. Since it was just us girls, I let go, and danced without a care in the world. Elaine entered the room, sending a glare my way. I already had so much to drink from the shots and beer pong, I didn’t even pay attention to her.

Rudy entered the room, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I saw him do a double take, staring right at me as I danced. I smiled, winking at him. His mouth dropped, taking his cig out. I turned my attention back to Maddie C who had until now been my dance partner, Chase having stole her from me. I pouted as she mouthed an apology, but I soon felt a presence behind me. Rudy pulled me flush against him, his eyes a shade darker than normal.

He turned me around so that my back was to his front, rocking me to the beat. Tension was thick in the air, our bodies sensually moving together. I got a wild hair and pushed my ass harder against him, a grunt being heard from him. I giggled, pretending like I didn’t know what I did. He gripped my waist tighter, his fingers digging into what skin was showing.

“I’ll be right back,” I spoke, smiling as I walked away towards the bathroom. I walked to the bathroom in my room, reapplying some lip gloss. I fluffed my hair a little, and adjusted the girls to make them pop a little more.

I was looking down as I walked out, adjusting the pockets of my shorts when I was suddenly pinned against the wall. Rudy stood in front of me, his eyes wild as he stared into my eyes.

I gasped when he smashed his lips to mine, my heart soaring through the roof. This was my first kiss, and I got to share it with Rudy. I followed his lead, moving my lips with his. I assumed I was doing alright since he hadn’t pulled away yet, hands starting to explore everywhere. He touched his tongue to mine, and I hesitantly copied his movements.

Our movements soon picked up, the kiss becoming more heated. Teeth and tongues fighting to discover every inch of each other’s mouth. I had to pull away, becoming dizzy from the lack of air. Rudy moved his mouth to my neck, kissing the skin there. I moaned quietly when he bit down on my skin, leaving his mark. He smirked against my skin, taking his tongue to sooth the bite.

“Oh my,” I panted, gripping his shirt.

“You’re so pretty baby, I love this little outfit.” he said, running his nose up my neck and pulled back to face me.

“Rudy, what-” I started.

I didn’t get to finish since his lips came back to mine, silencing my inner thoughts. He walked us back towards the bed, sitting down with me in front of him. His hands grabbed at my ass, grinning when I let out a shaky breath. He pulled me sideways so he could flip on top of me, crawling up the bed with me. I reached out to grab his face, feeling the slight stubble that had formed.

It was when his hand reached under my shirt my inner thoughts came back, my eyes popped open.

What was I doing?

Was I going to give myself to Rudy?

We’re both too drunk for this...

This can’t be real...

He doesn’t even like me, what the hell was going on?

“Wait,” I breathed out, his hands stopping immediately.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes worried as they met mine.

“What is this? Wh-why did you kiss me?” I questioned.

“I thought that was obvious...I-I really like you, like a lot.” he confessed, scratching the back of his head.

“No, y-you can’t possibly...I-,” I stuttered, shaking my head vehemently.

“What do you mean no? Baby, I’ve given you every sign known to man that I like you. Do you...do you not feel the same?” he muttered, his eyes full of distress.

“I-I can’t do this.” I croaked, pushing myself off the bed.

“Wait y/n, please don’t go.” he pleaded.

177 notes · View notes

liibrii · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

(9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him.

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

(17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again.

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

#ojiro aran #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran imagine #ojiro aran x y/n #aran x reader #aran x y/n #aran x you #hq #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #all that is gold #libri scribbles

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sxvxrxssnape · 4 years

Text

Accio Sleep: The Wizard’s Guide To Battling Insomnia

aka Snapetober 2020: Day 1

The Years Between Severus Snape & Minerva McGonagall 2424 words / gen / no content warnings apply

The pages of his book rustled softly.

He wasn’t really reading, not in the way he usually did. He wasn’t paying careful attention to the words printed on parchment, wasn’t getting lost in the miniature infinities as the story came to life. He was only skimming, glancing through the text in hopes of tiring his eyes enough that they might finally choose to close.

It had been days since he had last been able to truly sleep, days since he could lay down without feeling his anxieties gnawing at him more than usual. It had been days of carrying this weight, this pit in his stomach.

The fire crackled.

Severus Snape sighed and put the book aside. He stared into the fireplace, watched the flames flicker and dance. He stood up, felt the chill of stone underneath bare feet, and padded into the kitchenette of his quarters.

He didn’t bother with more candlelight and made a cup of tea in the glow of the fireplace. He stared at the milky chamomile as if it held the answers to all the questions he couldn’t dare ask. He stared so long, that when he eventually took a sip, the tea had gone cold.

He sighed again.

It only took a quick flick of his wand for gentle ribbons of steam to rise from the cup once more. He sipped slowly as he stared blankly at the walls of where he now called home, and willed sleep to come.

Perhaps it was futile.

Perhaps it was what he deserved.

He stared bitterly at the textbook sitting on the kitchen table. It was a different book from the one he had been paging through only moments ago; no, this book he had found in the library two nights before when the restlessness of the last week first began to take its toll. He twirled his wand between absentminded fingers and wondered briefly if Madame Pince would mind too much if he were to report the book as incinerated.

Accio Sleep; he scoffed at the title.

He had tried everything the book suggested and nothing had helped. He was growing frustrated at his inability to do what his body needed. He’d tried laying in the silent darkness of his bedchamber for hours, turning this way and that, but no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, tried to get comfortable and relax, sleep was determined to evade him.

Or maybe you’re determined to evade sleep, his mind snarked at him.

He stood up abruptly and grabbed his cloak. Suddenly, he could see it very clearly in his mind - if he were to keep the useless book in his possession any longer, he would destroy it in his sleep-deprived anger. He pinned the black fabric in place, fingers lingering on the silver cloak pin Lucius Malfoy had gifted him when he had first joined...he shook his head.

He was moving in a new direction now - a direction he should have gone since the beginning of it all, but dwelling on that was pointless and all he could do now was put one foot in front of the other and do what he could.

Right now, that entailed returning this wretched self-help book before he tossed it in the fireplace and got himself banned from the library.

The castle was silent at night and a part of him found it comforting to wander about without the bustle of students and their inane chatter. He didn’t bother with wandlight - maybe he had been elsewhere the last three years, but the memory of walking these halls for seven was still ingrained in him, and with the dim light of occasional torches, the path from the dungeons to the library was familiar.

He was only two corridors away when he heard soft footfalls approaching. For a second, his heart stuttered and he looked around for a place to hide before he remembered he was no longer a student attending Hogwarts, but a professor.

“Who’s there?”

“I-it’s me.” Severus winced at the stutter in his answer. How was he supposed to command respect from students who had once been classmates when he couldn’t even address the stern voice of Professor McGonagall without faltering?

A wand light turned the corner and approached him, and soon enough, he could make out the scowling face of the deputy headmistress and Gryffindor Head of House. She was still dressed in the same blue robes she had been wearing earlier, but her greying brown hair was coming undone from her usual bun.

“Oh, Professor Snape,” she greeted and he tried not to react to the level of contempt she put into his title, “where are you headed at this hour?”

He could hear the accusation in her tone and frankly, he didn’t blame her. What reason did she have to trust him other than Dumbledore’s word? Still, it irked him deeply and he tried to keep the malice out of his voice as he replied, “The library.”

She arched an eyebrow and looked at the book in his hands. “Ah, having trouble sleeping are we?”

“Quite.”

They stood there for several minutes, neither willing to walk away first. McGonagall was studying him carefully and he wondered what it was she saw. Did she see the exhaustion that lined his face, the fear and guilt that weighed him down? Did she see his mistakes trailing him like ghosts? Or did she see the Death Eater his marked arm would never allow himself to forget he was, the deserving victim to her precious Gryffindor’s past endeavors?

He didn’t deserve her trust, her sympathy, her respect.

He was a Death Eater, plain and simple.

He had denounced their ways, begged Dumbledore for help and forgiveness, taken up the mantle of double agent and spy, and now kept a foot on either side. He refused to acknowledge it because he knew what he had to do - there was no second choice - but at the end of the day, he had agency. He had both the leader of the Light and Dark thinking him loyal to their cause, could choose which side benefited him most, and McGonagall knew that.

He wondered if she knew it was his fault.

“Severus?”

He blinked and focused his attention back on her. He would need to work on that; he couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that, not anymore.

“Pardon?”

“You’re the Potions Master, yes?” she asked, still scowling but he swore he could see something gentle in her eyes. “Brew a sleeping draught.”

He tried for a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Quite right, Minerva. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get right on that. How silly of me, to forget the basis of what my job is.”

A pause. "You don’t want to sleep.”

He didn’t know what it was that possessed him to answer. He wanted to sleep, there was no doubt in his mind of that, but he just couldn’t. No matter how dark, how quiet, how still the room, no matter if he tried to tire out his mind, his eyes, his body, sleep would just not come. And despite knowing all that to be true, the word that he spoke so softly into the near empty corridor was a singular, “No.”

“May I ask why?”

He blinked, unsure of her intentions. Her face had lost some of its severity, and the curious gentleness remained in her eyes, but there wasn’t enough to determine what her angle was just yet. He wondered if his unintentional honesty, the sliver of vulnerability, had lessened some of her defenses.

What had she seen when he had been lost in thought?

“This book is overdue.” he snarked.

A faint smile, the barest pull on the corner of her lips. “How are your classes going?” she asked, rather unexpectedly. “Come, I still have patrol of the castle to do and perhaps the activity will tire you out.” She started to walk away, in the same direction she had come.

He watched her idly, contemplating his options before ultimately deciding to follow. “Classes are fine.” he struggled to get out. In reality, classes felt like a disaster but he didn’t want to say it aloud because that felt like admitting defeat.

“Are they?” Minerva asked, side-eyeing him. Her eyebrow was raised in disbelief and there was a glimmer of amusement mixed with the gentleness. “The students are listening to you, then?”

He sighed. “The first and second years are.”

Minerva smirked and gestured vaguely to the book return slot outside the library. He rid himself of the book and they continued their stroll of the castle.

“A Hogwarts professor at twenty-one.” Minerva mused. “I believe you might be the youngest one we’ve had to date.”

“Yes, well.”

“I’m not surprised the older students are being difficult. They don’t see you as an authority figure, they see you as their equal, Severus. You have to learn how to carry yourself better. Stand up straight, for one.”

He scowled, but did as told.

“It’s barely been a month and a half of term - you’ll get better at this.” She stopped at the door that would lead them to the Astronomy Tower and looked him over. “Are you warm enough to go up?” she asked and he blanked at the sudden concern for his well-being. He wrapped the long cloak tighter around himself in response; how had he forgotten until this very moment that he had pulled the garment on over a nightshirt? He wasn’t even wearing shoes. How Dumbledore trusted him to lie to the Dark Lord was beyond him; the lack of sleep was turning his brain to soup.

Minerva’s soft exhale of breath was the closest to a laugh he had heard anyone direct towards him since he’d arrived at the castle. It made something in him ache as the realization hit: she didn’t know it was his fault, that his eagerness to please and mean something, was what forced the Potters into hiding over a year ago.

He wondered now if he could keep that fact from her forever.

Their conversation remained pleasant and Severus drank up the positive attention that eased the knot his stomach had become ever since he had returned from a Death Eater meeting days ago and reported his findings to Dumbledore. Nothing had really changed, except now the Dark Lord seemed giddy. He refused to think why that was.

For all he hated Sirius Black with every fiber of his being, the one thing he knew to be fact, was that Black would sooner die than give up James and Lily Potter. As long as he was Secret Keeper, they were safe. She was safe.

Still, sleep did not come easily.

Ever since Lily’s name had fallen from the Dark Lord's lips, time had stopped. He wondered how the world kept turning when he was still frozen in that moment when the Dark Lord had confirmed Harry Potter’s birth and decided he was the prophesied one over the Longbottom boy, who had escaped that fate by only a handful of hours.

He wondered if maybe he was meant to be a Death Eater. If not for him, they would have never learned the Dark Lord planned to target the Potters. Then again, if not for him...the prophecy may have never been relayed to (and he forced himself to say the name) Voldemort in the first place.

“Try a sleeping draught.�� Minerva’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts once more and then she walked away.

He looked around himself and realized they had returned to the corridor where his personal chambers were located. He surpassed the wards and took off his cloak, letting it fall to the ground as he stared into the fireplace once more.

The flames had died down and only fragile embers remained.

He cast a tempus charm and sighed as he learned it was past three in the morning. He climbed into bed, fervently hoping the weariness he could feel down to his bones would finally, finally let him sleep. Still, the voice in his head mocked him.

You cannot sleep because you are refusing to let it happen.

He groaned, because as much as he wished to deny it, that blasted voice in his head was right. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to forget existence for as long as the world granted him, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about Voldemort’s sudden giddiness.

They were safe, he reminded himself.

She was safe.

He knew how it would all end though, he knew someone had to die.

There was no use denying the third thing of the night he knew to be absolutely true: the Dark Lord would never stop trying to kill the boy he saw as a threat. If somehow, and oh Merlin, how he hoped with everything within him that this never happened, the Dark Lord learned of the Potter’s whereabouts, he knew Lily Potter would not step aside and let her son be killed.

He wouldn’t dare ask that of her.

If the Dark Lord found them, there would be three casualties that night. He couldn’t bear the thought of falling asleep and waking up to a world without Lily Potter. He couldn’t even stomach the idea of waking up to a world where James Potter no longer existed because he knew when that happened, it would have been his doing.

If turned to when because he knew and accepted what everyone else refused to see: the Dark Lord would not be defeated, not when the bringer of his decimation was barely a toddler. They had already been in hiding for a year; how many more would there be before they decided they would hide no longer and take their chances?

He wondered how much longer he would have to suffer these restless nights before he could finally ease his thoughts enough to fall asleep or if he had to wait for his questions to be answered, for the future to be decided, for someone to die before he could rest. He wondered if he would still be alive to see it all play out or if the deprivation would kill him instead. Maybe the Dark Lord would discover his deceit and kill him first. He idly wondered which ending he preferred.

He sighed and spent yet another hour for yet another night laying silently in the darkness.

--- A/N: insomnia? did you mean: overthinking? and day one is live! i wasn’t sure what direction i was going in when i started writing, but it chose itself. i also wasnt expecting to write more than 1k oh no, ive set expectations of myself

anyway, im so excited to see what everyone else has created!! ty so much for taking the time to read this!!

#snapetober 2020 #severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #professor snape #writing

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wildfl0wer-meg · 4 years

Note

General 42 prompt? With Michael or Calum

Honestly contemplating making this into a lil series.

warnings: alcohol, single mom!reader, and cuteness

Michael Clifford x single mom!reader

General 42: are you flirting with me?

———

When your friends took your phone and downloaded Tinder it became a silly game you played when you were bored. Swiping left on almost every profile and sending screenshots to your friends of the most ridiculous bios.

You weren’t expecting to be getting ready for a date after talking to a guy on the app. He seemed too good to be real and therefore you weren’t getting your hopes up, Michael Clifford sounded like a fake name. He was beautiful though, and he had dogs which made you instantly wonder if he would be willing to put up with your having a six year old.

You’d talked for a few hours when you first brought your son up. Mentioning that you were a single mom and the biological dad was in and out of the picture. You made it clear you weren’t looking for someone to be a father to your son, but someone that would love him as well as you.

Michael said that he loves kids, and instantly said that it wasn’t a deal breaker. He was perfect, and so you decided to meet up.

“Do I look okay?” You walk out of your room and into the living room. Your best friend Mia sits on the couch with your son Landen.

“Girl!” Mia squeals, “you look so hot!” You roll your eyes at her, turning to the mirror in the hallway, you weren’t in anything exciting, black jeans, a gray sweater, and some Doc Martin boots, but you felt good in it.

“You look pretty, mama!” Landen smiles and you melt looking at him, all you want is for him to be happy, and while you know that if it does work out with Michael you won’t be introducing them for a while; you’ll be mentally testing Michael the entire time to make sure he won’t hurt your baby.

“Thank you baby,” looking at your phone you sigh, “I have to go, be good for aunt Mia, yeah?” You hug the blonde haired boy, planting a kiss on his forehead before waving bye to Mia and hurrying out the door to your car.

You had your son at eighteen, and since then you’d been to very few events, so when Michael mentioned there being a pizza and alcohol themed festival happening that you could go to, you instantly accepted.

Michael Clifford: I’ll wait for you by the giant blow up slice of pizza (you can’t miss it) I’m the dude in the red flannel.

As you pull up you read the message, smiling at it before sending a quick, I’m here, text back.

Walking up you realize that he was right, the blow up pizza had to be ten feet tall, a weird face on it and there was a bunch of people gathered around it, but standing off to the side you make eye contact with a man in a red flannel.

Blonde hair sticks out of a black hat that he wears backwards. You blush when you see that he’s holding a single red rose and he notices you as soon as you notice him, a smile making its way across his lips.

“Hi,” you smile as you get close to him, taking in that he is a real person.

“Hey,” he smiles back, holding out the flower, “I didn’t want to get anything big that you’d have to carry around so I hope you’re not offended by just one,” you take it, twirling the thornless stem between your fingers.

“Of course not, I really wasn’t expecting anything. It’s beautiful,” taking a sniff you smile at the sweet smell before looking at him, being mesmerized by his looks.

“You hungry?” He asks simply and with a nod you’re following him to one of the pizza stands.

———

You end up with a large margherita pizza, and Michael sips on a beer as you drink a fruity cocktail that the bartender promised that you’d love.

You talk about your lives, especially after Michael got stopped by a teenage girl for a picture. “I’m in a band, we’ve gotten pretty popular I guess,” you were amazed by how humble he remained despite a girl literally telling him how much she loved him.

You google the band once you’re sat down, laughing when you realize that they sing She Looks so Perfect... aka the underwear song.

“We were so young! You can’t think of that as being my best work!” Michael laughs quickly swiping away from the song and clicking on the album titled Youngblood.

“You have to recognize some of these songs,” he says and you do, and are still in shock that you’re sitting with someone in a world famous band.

The shock decrease as the night goes on. You both watch the performances that are put on, eat too much pizza, drink enough alcohol to make you both a little tipsy, and as the night winds down you find yourself sitting in the grass with him.

“So you have a kid?” He smiles and you nod your head.

“Landen, he’s six,” Michael smiles as you show him your lock screen, the blue eyed boy staring at him. “It’s okay if kids aren’t a thing for you, I mean you don’t even have to be in his life at all if you don’t want to.”

“He’s cute,” Michael smiles, “I can’t wait to meet him someday,” his words make you blush, one day, it’s promising and you smile.

“Did you know that you’re adorable when you blush?” You look at him still blushing and he chuckles, hand reaching out to touch your warm cheeks.

“Are you flirting with me?” You ask and Michael smirks scooting closer to you.

“Isn’t that the point of me taking you on this date?” Your eyes flash from his eyes down to his lips and your mouth goes dry. He bites his lip eyes flashing down to your lips as well before he leans in.

The kiss is soft but it lingers for a moment, you both just learning each other. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair as his thumb softly brushes your cheek a couple of times.

When you finally pull away a goofy grin is plastered on both of your faces, Michael is the first one to speak up.

“I can almost guarantee that you’re going to have to put up with my flirting for a long time,”

———

Um I love this? Does anyone want to suggest a part 2? I might make this actually into a little drabble series. single mom!reader x Michael.

Masterlist

#5sos #michael clifford #Michael Clifford fic #Michael Clifford x reader #single mom!reader #5 seconds of summer #fluff #wildfl0wer meg writes

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jihyuncompass · 4 years

Note

Hey, I was wondering if you take requests for Vanderwood If yes, could you write something fluff with him? Vanderwood deserves more love 😔

I also agree Vanderwood needs some more love! I hope you enjoy this short little one shot that I wrote for you!

Before I get started I want to give a special thank you to my friend @saeyoungs-sunflower for giving me some great advice and guidance for writing Vanderwood. And I want to thank @cafedanslanuit for reading this first. I love you both so much and I’m very grateful.

A Simple Evening

Vanderwood x MC

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: N/A

Summary: “Things didn’t end up going as planned.”

Agent Vanderwood wasn’t supposed to fall in love. Their job was too dangerous, anyone they got close to could get hurt in the crossfire. This was something they were more than aware of, and yet.

Things didn’t end up going as planned. Now here they were, sitting on the couch. With you leaning against them. Vanderwood’s arm carefully over your shoulders, fingers tracing lines onto your shoulder. You took a deep breath in and let out a soft content sigh. Pressing closer into Vanderwood’s chest. Seeking their warmth.

It was mostly silent between the two of you. The TV was playing some TV show but both of you were only half paying attention at this point, the plot of the show completely forgotten. Vanderwood wasn’t one for a lot of words, especially if they knew it wouldn’t be hard to express themselves in other ways. So, many evenings were spent in a peaceful silence like this.

When you knew Vanderwood wasn’t paying attention you shifted your head to look at them. Taking in all their features your eyes traced Vanderwood’s jawline, their cheekbones, the slight glint in their eye. This was one of the few moments you got to see your lover in such a peaceful state. Their typical form of affection towards you was what you would think of as “loving annoyance”. Vanderwood acted as if you were the most annoying thing on the planet and yet seemingly never wanted you to stop. Make a little mess, you’ll get a complaint and a roll of the eyes but if you looked you’d see the smile they’re trying to stop from appearing on their face.

Reaching up you started playing with some pieces of Vanderwood’s hair. Pulling some of the strands you twirled them between your fingers. Vanderwood’s eyes looked down towards you.

“What are you doing?” Vanderwood asked. You smiled at them pulling yourself up to kiss their jaw. Vanderwood wasn’t smiling back at you but you could see a gleam in their eyes.

“I just like being close to you.” You said. Vanderwood hummed. While they didn’t say it you could tell that they were happy and content. Your hand moved down to rest on their chest, still staring up at them.

This hadn’t been the plan but Vanderwood couldn’t imagine life without you now. You with your warmth and gentle spirit. You who was so brave to want to be with them, to not get scared off by them or their work. It almost seemed like a miracle. And while Vanderwood was watching you now, curled against them. It only reaffirmed their desire to care for you, protect you. No matter what the cost.

Seeing you was the first thing that ever made Agent Vanderwood seriously consider leaving the agency. To run away and start a new life with you, create a world that just the two of you lived in. You made Vanderwood desire a normal life, to share all those little domestic moments with you. Without a single fear of danger. You reminded Vanderwood that they were a real person, a living breathing human being and not a ghost or a shadow. A feeling they hadn’t been able to experience in so long, a feeling they never wanted to go away.

Sorting out your relationship had been hard for the both of you. It was an unexplored road for Vanderwood, and at first they wanted to pull away. Stop this before it went anywhere, before they were in too deep. But you encouraged them, reassured them. Made it clear that you cared for them, even though their work was dangerous.

So you took things slow. Letting yourselves acclimate to your evolving relationship. Even the smallest bits of physical affection took time, and even still certain things were challenging, but you stayed steadfast and patient. Even now.

Thinking of all this Vanderwood could feel that pull of emotion in their chest. The one they never felt before meeting you. The feeling giving them the courage to think that this could work, that this could be right.

“Vanderwood?” You whispered, grabbing their attention. You locked eyes. “What are you thinking about? You look deep in thought.” Vanderwood didn’t speak, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. It only lasted a few moments but it silently spoke a thousand words.

Once you pulled away you laughed, not loudly but enough that Vanderwood looked at you strangely.

“What’s so funny?” Vanderwood asked. Their voice low.

“Nothing, you’re just silly sometimes.” Vanderwood’s face changed, showing a look of confusion. No one in Vanderwood’s life had ever called them silly before, they’d always been seen as serious, intense, never anything like this. It was strange, but Vanderwood couldn’t stop a content smile. You gave a bright smile back, one that warmed Vanderwood’s heart.

Settling back into Vanderwood’s chest you looked back to the TV to try and settle back into the television show. While your eyes were turned away Vanderwood reached for their phone, laying on the couch next to them, typing out a quick message, and setting it back down.

You felt your phone buzz from your pocket, holding it in your hand you noticed a text message from Vanderwood. Glancing up you noticed Vanderwood avoiding your gaze, now supposedly interested in the television. Opening the message you found three words.

I love you.

Turning your phone off you pulled yourself up, taking Vanderwood by the chin to kiss them again. This time longer, their arm around your shoulder pulling you closer. Your hand traveled from their chin to run through their hair. Keeping them close.

Once you needed to pull back for air, you whispered into Vanderwood’s ear.

“I love you too”

Words didn’t always need to be exchanged between the two of you, but even without a single word you never doubted Vanderwood. Never doubted their feelings, their thoughts, their intentions. You trusted them entirely, with all of your very heart and soul, and in this moment you only felt reminded of that fact.

#mystic messenger #request #fanfic #vanderwood #mary vanderwood 3rd #vanderwood x mc

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haosvteen · 4 years

Text

“you’re cute when you’re angry” / “can you chill for one minute? i want to get ice cream” with seungkwan

requests: open

seungkwan x reader

* - angst / ~ - fluff

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

it had been what felt like the longest week of your life

not only was your boss pushing you to get an absurd amount of work done, but at a family dinner your mom kept asking you when you’d get a boyfriend

you hated that question

you’ll get a boyfriend when you want to!! it doesn’t concern anyone else

“what about that boo seungkwan boy?” she said

“mom! we’re just friends,” you responded, a little annoyed

you quickly changed the subject, hoping that she wouldn’t bring it up again

speaking of seungkwan, you were happy to accept his invitation to go out on friday night, especially after the difficult week you had

you were sitting in the booth of the dimly lit restaurant, messing around on your phone until seungkwan arrived

“ah, i’m so sorry the subway was running behind,” he said as he slid into the other side of the booth

you smile and put your phone into your bag, “oh, no worries! i just got here”

seungkwan returned your smile, shrugging off his brown wool coat and unwrapping his scarf from his neck

after several minutes of talking about the highlights of your weeks, a waitress approaches to take your drink orders

“hmm, i think i’ll get a glass of red wine,” seungkwan says

“oh, i’m so glad that you’re drinking as well, i didn’t want it to be just me,” you tell him

after the week you had, you needed a drink

when it was your turn, you told the waitress, “i’ll have a mojito please, thank you”

you spent the rest of the hour laughing over embarrassing stories and sharing appetizers

“i think i’m going to go up to the bar and get another drink, do you want anything?” you ask seungkwan

“no i’m okay, thanks though!” he responds

you quickly stand up and as a result have to hold onto the table for a moment to gain your balance

seungkwan places his hands on your waist to steady you, “are you good?”

“yeah, i’m fine! i think that mojito was a bit stronger than i expected,” you laughed it off and made your way up to the bar (trying not to stumble)

as you were waiting for the bartender, you started twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers, a habit that only emerged when you were had alcohol in your system

you noticed a figure lean up on the bar next to you

looking to your side, you find it to be a man

a very attractive man

before you had time to think, you blurted out a “hi”

he looked at you and gave you a charming smile, “well hello”

“you’re verrrry cute,” you slurred out

oh goodness, you really did not think you were intoxicated enough to start calling random men cute

“are you here alone?” he asks you

just as you opened your mouth to respond (and likely say something stupid), you felt an arm sneak around your waist

you look to see seungkwan pulling you closer to him, “babe, i brought your coat! we need to leave now if we’re going to make it”

you look at him with a confused look on your face, nose scrunched and eye brows furrowed, “what are you talking about? make it where??”

“stop being silly,” he says in a joking manner and turns to look at the man you were talking to. “i’m so sorry about my girlfriend, she gets carried away sometimes. have a great night!”

seungkwan then starts to walk you towards the door of the restaurant

you didn’t fully understand what had just happened until you were outside in the cold city air

“what the hell was that?!” you almost yell

he turns on his heel and starts walking down the street

running after him you shout, “hey! stop! why did you do that?!”

finally catching up with him, you push his shoulder in anger

“can you chill for one minute? i want to get ice cream,” he tells you while turning to try to walk back down the street

you grab onto his coat and pull, trying to stop him

with a sigh, he turns back around to look at you

“why did you do that?!” you say again, looking up into his eyes

“ah, you’re cute when you’re angry, you know”

you may be drunk, but you knew that your feelings were hurt

and it didn’t matter that he just called you cute

“you…you know how hard it’s been for me to find a boyfriend,” you began as tears started to well up in your eyes. “you know that my family has been bothering me for years about getting a boyfriend. so why would you do that? i was talking to that boy and he seemed interested in me, so why did you come ruin it?”

seungkwan sucked in a sharp breath and looked to his side, “you’re right, he did seem interested in you.”

you couldn’t help your jaw that dropped in shock or the words that you spoke next, “so you could tell he was interested in me and you deliberately ruined it. some friend you are, seungkwan. i’ll see you around.”

you swiftly grabbed your coat and bag from his arms, walking down the street and finally letting your tears fall

why would he do something like that? he knows how badly you want a boyfriend

not only to shut up your family, but you also want someone to share your life with

there have been countless nights you’ve stayed up talking to him on the phone, expressing that sometimes you just feel so lonely and that you’ll never find someone

so if he knew all of that, if he knew how you felt, why would he ruin it for you?

just as you were about to turn the corner you heard someone yell, “y/n, wait!”

wiping your eyes, you turn around and are met with lips crashing onto yours

your eyes widen in surprise

seungkwan pulls away and his eyes were full of concern, searching your face for any hint of your reaction

“that’s why,” he quietly says

he waits for your response, but you don’t know what to say

seungkwan…likes you?

“i took you away from that boy because i don’t want to see you with anyone else. i want you to be with me,” he says while grabbing your hands in his, rubbing small circles with his thumb while looking down

your heart pounded, it felt like someone was banging a drum inside you

you always thought that he just saw you as a friend

there had never been any sign

at all

looking at seungkwan, you could tell he was nervous from his shifting while standing in front of you

a smile crept onto your face because you knew this was right

you knew he was right

jumping up and wrapping your arms around him you exclaim, “oh kwannie!! what took you so long??”

“i was nervous!!” he laughs out

lowering yourself down and standing on the sidewalk, you take his hands in yours again

“so you’re telling me you could’ve been my boyfriend this whole time??”

he looks up at you sheepishly

you give him a small punch on the shoulder and say, “let’s go get that ice cream, dork’

as you’re walking through the city to the ice cream shop, you notice seungkwan looking at you

you turn your head to see a look of pure adoration on his face when your eyes meet

“what??” you ask him, wondering if your hair is messed up or something

“i just can’t believe i got you,” he responds, leaning down and kissing your cheek

you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks

while waiting in line to order your ice cream, you pull out your phone and text your mom, “i think you were right about that boo seungkwan boy”

#boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seventeen seungkwan #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan drabbles #seungkwan scenarios #boyfriend!seungkwan #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #boyfriend seventeen #boyfriend seungkwan #svt drabbles #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen masterlist #seventeen reactions #seventeen au #seventeen fics

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thepatricktreestump · 4 years

Text

Crush pt3 - peter parker imagine

crush masterlist

part 3 – the homecoming dance

It seemed as though after spending that evening in his apartment, everything between you and Peter changed. There wasn’t any awkward tension or tip toeing around your feelings. You could simply just feel and not have to be ashamed or embarrassed by it. He started going to meet you at your locker before school, complimenting you on whatever outfit you were wearing, and holding your hand, which was your personal favorite. It was like a reminder that you were finally his. Although neither of you clarified whether you were officially dating yet or not, it was obvious something had changed in your friendship. MJ and Ned were quick to point out this change, teasing you two relentlessly but also congratulating you both.

Even outside of school, Peter was still tugging at your heartstrings. He sent you adorable texts and even facetimed you before bedtime to talk. One morning before school he had even gotten you some iced coffee, and another day offered to walk you home. He was definitely the sweetest boy you had ever met, and you found yourself falling harder and harder for him each day. As the dance approached, Pepper helped you slowly get ready. She went out with you to find the perfect dress, one that complimented your eyes and cascaded down your hips, as well as some matching jewelry. She also briefed you on some dance lessons just in case your brain went blank in the middle of a slow song. You giggled to yourself as you imagined Aunt May doing the same with Peter.

Before you knew it, the night had finally arrived, and you were excited and nervous all the same. Staring at yourself in the mirror, fancy hairstyle framing your makeup painted face, you smiled. You wouldn’t have wanted to spend this night with anyone else but Peter. Walking down to the lobby you smiled at your dad, beaming at you with teary eyes. “You look absolutely stunning, y/n,” he gave you a big hug. “Can’t believe my little girl’s all grown up.”

“Best believe it,” you smirked. “I’ll be up and off to college before you know it.”

“Ah you won’t be gone long,” he shook his head. “I know you’ll breeze right through it. You’ve got your father’s brains.”

“If only she had your confidence too,” Pepper teased. “Then she’d be unstoppable.”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed. “I’m a teenage girl in high school, dad. You probably have more confidence than all of us combined.”

“A visitor has approached the door. Would you like me to let him enter, Mr. Stark?” JARVIS chirped through the building and you felt giddy, heart beginning to race.

“That must be Peter,” you smiled and you saw your dad tense behind you as you rushed towards the door.

“Peter?” he raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Yeah,” you opened the door, proudly presenting your date to your father.

He stood there in the doorframe, just as you imagined, but almost even better. Hair swept back neatly, sporting a tuxedo and a bowtie, smelling faintly of cologne, he was handsome as ever. You wanted to kiss him right there on the spot. “Y/n! You look beautiful,” Peter gasped and you blushed, looking up at him, shy.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “You look very handsome too.” Your dad stepped out from behind you to get a good look at the boy and you stepped back to let them introduce themselves, noting the almost surprised look on both of their faces. Did Peter really think you weren’t going to introduce him to your family?

“Nice to meet you sir,” the boy extended his hand, looking a bit jittery. “Peter Parker.”

“Tony Stark…” your dad drew out his voice, seeming very off, and you stared at him strangely, confused. They shook hands slowly, both staring at each other weirdly, and you narrowed your eyes at the interaction, letting Peter step into the room and watching as the two of them struggled to find words to say.

“Big fan of your work,” Peter nodded slowly, smiling anxiously, entire body tense. “You’re a good man, Mr. Stark.”

“Going to keep my daughter safe tonight, Mr. Parker?” your dad asked, ignoring Peter’s praise, and you rolled your eyes, sighing, slugging him in the shoulder playfully.

“Y-yes sir, of course, absolutely,” Peter insisted, almost as if trying to convince himself, and Tony hummed, still skeptical. Your father turned to you and you instantly felt strange yourself, hoping everything was okay.

“Mind if I have a couple words with Petey here?” your dad asked and you stared at him quizzically.

“Sure, is everything alright?” you turned your head to the side.

“Of course, you know, just the regular don’t hurt my daughter or I’ll hurt you type of talk,” he reassured and you chewed on your inner cheek, looking up at him, hesitant.

You lowered your voice, leaning into his ear to whisper. “Just don’t mess this up, okay dad? I really like him,” you pleaded, and he smiled softly, nodding.

“It’ll only be a couple minutes,” Tony replied. “Why don’t you go out and wait with Happy in the limo. I’m going to talk to Mr. Parker for a little bit.”

Reluctantly, you followed his instructions, going out to wait in the backseat of the vehicle with Happy. Meanwhile, your father confronted Peter in the lobby, pulling him aside so that they were alone. “Look, Mr. Stark, I can explain really-” Peter began but Tony shook his head, shutting him up.

“No. What did I tell you?” he asked bitterly, taking off his glasses, cursing. “Shit. You’re not supposed to be doing these things, kid. And with my daughter? Are you serious? You have a job, people to protect, yourself to worry about. You can’t be involving other people who could potentially get hurt, just so you can boogie for a night in your high school’s gymnasium.”

“I know, I know. But it’s so much more than that,” Peter sighed, apologetic. “And I swear, I wasn’t the one who approached her Mr. Stark, I would never try to mess with your daughter. I know you told me already and everything, but I swear, she approached me. And I didn’t want anything to happen but she just, she’s really a great girl, Mr. Stark. She’s so smart and funny, and she kept asking me to hang out, and we kept talking and I- I couldn’t help but catch feelings. And there was this dance coming up and my aunt, you know my aunt, she kept bugging me to ask someone, and the only person I could think of to bring was-”

“Her. Okay, I get it, kid,” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But I don’t think you understand. She likes you. A lot. She’s really fallen hard. You’re all she ever talks about. And I’m just afraid if this keeps happening, whatever this is between you two, something bad could happen. You having these powers, being, you know, Spider-Man… It’s a full time gig. There’s no option for girlfriends, Peter. If something ever ends up happening to her, that’s not only going to be on me anymore. That’ll also be on you. And you’re just a kid, I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. I don’t think anyone ever is.”

“I promise I’ll be careful, Mr. Stark. I’d never let anything happen to her, I care about her a lot. I really do,” Peter swore.

“It’s not a matter of how much you care, Romeo. You can’t control things like this,” Tony argued. “Think of what would happen if anything happened to her. If anything happened to you! She’d be devastated. She wouldn’t be able to take it. And if you two stay together, she can’t know. She can’t know about any of this, about your powers or your suit, or the fact that we already know each other. It would be based upon a lie. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

“So what? I’m just not allowed to have a girlfriend?” Peter began to get annoyed. “I can’t be a normal high schooler sometimes? I’m not allowed to bring the girl I like to one school dance?”

“Look kid, none of this is normal. Not a single bit of it. And I know that’s not fair to you, but that doesn’t mean it has to be unfair to anyone else either, okay? Being a superhero, that whole gig, being Spider-Man, that comes before anyone else. Especially girls, no matter who that girl is,” Tony explained. “I’m sorry, but no means no. You just can’t have both.”

“And apparently I can’t choose either?” Peter stared at him, desperate, but Tony insisted.

“Being a hero means doing the right thing,” he said firmly, finalizing his statement. Stark looked at the boy, noticing the sadness in his eyes, and shook his head. It was for the best. “Now go. Have a good night. Give her something to remember. Take care of her.” There was a pause and he sighed. “You can plan on telling her tomorrow.”

Peter blinked at Tony, trying not to either punch him in the face or start crying, watching as your father walked away, unsure of what to think or do. He wanted to swing away, to the highest rooftop, and scream at the sky. But he couldn’t. He had a dance to go to and a girl to take care of. A girl he couldn’t even keep if he wanted to. Walking silently to the limousine, he opened up the door, and you greeted him cheerily, but he remained quiet, making you concerned, furrowing your brow. “What’d he talk to you about? You were in there for a while, I thought you’d never come out,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but he still looked different. Almost sad. “You okay, Peter?”

“It’s fine,” he shook his head. “He just uh, he told me to have a good time.” He gave a fake smile and you stared at him, concerned, wondering what the fuck your dad just did to make him look so goddamn depressed.

“A-are you sure that was it?” you wondered, and you could pick up the same type of tension on Happy. It was like everyone knew something you didn’t.

“Yeah, just forget about it,” Peter insisted. “It’s fine.”

When you arrived to the dance though, he seemed distracted and distanced, making you worry even more. Ned and MJ greeted you both with their dates, and you all poured glasses of fruit punch and took silly photos at the booth. When it came time to dance, you begged Peter to join you, and you swayed your hips to the music and twirled around in circles, trying to get him to loosen up, but he still seemed off. “What’s up with Peter?” MJ finally cracked as soon as you had stepped away from the boys and you shrugged.

“He’s been like that ever since he picked me up from my house,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“Did you ask him about it?” MJ wondered and you sighed.

“Several times, but he won’t tell me what’s up,” you replied. “I’m almost scared it might be something I did. We were fine until he came over. Maybe the tower and my dad and everything scared him off.”

“I don’t think so, Peter doesn’t seem the type to ignore you,” MJ insisted. “Just let me know if I can help. I hope you figure it all out soon.”

“Thanks,” you gave a sympathetic smile. “Me too.”

“Best of luck, buddy,” she winked, going off to grab some snacks.

You shook your head, hoping everything would work out. Maybe the dance was just making him nervous. You made your way through the sea of people crowding the gymnasium, trying to find a familiar face. A slow song began to play, one of your favorites, and you instantly rushed towards Peter, holding out your hands. “Come on,” you begged. “Slow dance with me? Please?”

“S-sure, of course,” he smiled, getting up from his chair, making his way to the middle of the dance floor with you. He set his hands on your hips and you rested your arms on his shoulders, smiling as you looked into those hazel eyes you grew so fond of, thinking about just how much he meant to you. Sure, it started off as a silly little crush, having your eyes out for the smart nerdy boy in your chemistry class, but now? You felt like Peter was your best friend, and you wanted him to be something more. He was easy to talk to, to relate to, to be around. When you were with him, it was like the entire rest of the world disappeared.

“Can I tell you something?” you wondered and Peter looked at you, caught off guard.

“Uh yeah, yeah, sure,” he agreed. “But um, I have something to tell you too.”

“You do?” you raised an eyebrow, interested. You secretly hoped it was the same thing. “Maybe you should go first.”

“Are you sure?” he looked quizzical, almost unsure of himself.

“Mhmm,” you smiled, still swaying your hips, looking into his eyes, hopeful. What if he was going to tell you how much he liked you too? Or what if he asked you to be his girlfriend? What if he told you he loved you? No! No way. That would be way too soon. Wouldn’t it? Your heart raced as you watched him struggle to find the words to say, excited as ever, but as soon as they left his mouth you wished he had never said them at all.

“I don’t really think this is working out,” he whispered and you stared at him, beginning to feel your heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

“W-what?” you stammered, freezing in your place, confused.

“Us,” Peter clarified, looking down at the floor, embarrassed. “I think I made a mistake. Asking you to the dance. And I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what?” you almost laughed, trying to convince yourself this was all some crazy prank or something, but you looked up and saw the pain and sadness in Peter’s eyes and you suddenly knew something wasn’t right. Maybe that’s why he had been acting so weird. Did he regret asking you to the dance? He seemed so excited when he had asked you. And he had told you all week how much he was looking forward to it. Was it all just some big lie? You shook your head, still in denial. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” Peter mumbled, breaking away from you, walking off the dance floor. But you didn’t know what to do, instead just standing there, tears of your own forming in your eyes.

Were you fooling yourself? Were all of these feelings just one sided? Were you too stupid to see what was happening all along? You hated yourself for thinking someone like Peter could ever like you. You were just friends, and that was it. God, Ned and MJ probably thought you looked stupid too. Tears welled up in your eyes as you exited the gymnasium, pulling out your phone, sitting on the curb in your dress, hating yourself for messing everything up. Your phone rang several times before you sniffled, clearing your throat.

“Uh, hey dad?” you whimpered.

“Y/n?” Tony asked, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Can you pick me up from the dance? I want to go home,” you told him, voice shaky, wiping tears from your cheeks.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he reassured. “I’ll be there in ten. Hang tight.”

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lesbianzhane · 4 years

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our last summer (crygi)

a/n; hello again! this is the first time i’ve ever written crygi, so hopefully it’s not awful! i was originally basing this off of our last summer from mama mia, but i got a little sidetracked. despite that, i hope you all enjoy! any and all feedback is welcomed!

Crystal was fifteen years old when she did her first exchange program. She had always dreamed of working overseas, seeing the world and learning so many new things. When the school approached her and offered the opportunity to fly to Paris for an entire school year, she couldn’t refuse. She practically jumped for joy at it. Her parents were a bit skeptical of the whole thing, they were nervous that Crystal wasn’t going to be safe in a completely new country. Crystal, and the school, assured them that the entire time Crystal was in Paris, she would be protected and accounted for.

She moved to Paris at the beginning of that summer. The school had told her it was to help her adjust, to ensure that when she settled into her new school life she had at least a small understanding of the city. The family that was hosting her had a daughter that would actually be going to her school, and the two of them hit it off almost instantly. Crystal was much more outgoing than Nicky was, and for a bit Crystal was nervous that she wouldn’t like her. Nicky warmed up after a couple of hours, telling Crystal all about the city and how things worked here. It made Crystal feel like a true part of their family, even after a short amount of time.

One day, the two of them were out in the city, ordering from a local coffee shop. That’s when Crystal spotted her. The tall, blonde haired girl who was struggling to relay her order to the barista in french. Nicky stepped in, translating for her. The girl had to be the prettiest person Crystal had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. Her legs seemed to go on for miles, and Crystal’s eyes wandered up the smooth expanse of skin exposed. The girl was wearing a tight miniskirt, and a simple button up shirt that fit her perfectly. Crystal wondered if it was legal for someone to be this breathtaking.

Nicky had to nudge her to get her to stop staring. The girl shot them both an appreciative smile, stepping out of line as the two of them ordered. Crystal got a simple hot chocolate, relaying her order to Nicky so she could translate it to the barista. Once their orders were placed, Nicky decided to approach the girl they had helped. The french accent was heavy on her lips as she spoke, though her English wasn’t broken or hard to understand.

“Hi, my name is Nicky. You’re welcome, by the way.” Nicky shoots the girl a cocky smile, and the look is reciprocated.

“Thanks. I’m Gigi.” She holds out a hand for Nicky, and Crystal watches on in awe as the two of them easily fall into a conversation. Gigi explains that she is also here on an exchange program, and that she just so happens to be going to the same school as the two of them. Nicky swears that the three of them will be the best of friends, even if Crystal hasn’t said a word this entire time. Just as the thought crosses her mind, Gigi turns to her and tilts her head, waiting for an answer.

“Huh? Oh! I wasn’t listening. What did you say?” Crystal tries to laugh it off, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of her neck.

“I asked what your name was. You haven’t spoken this entire time.” Gigi smiles with her teeth, and Crystal swears it goes straight to her heart. She stutters on her words for a moment, trying to formulate a proper sentence.

“Crystal! My name is Crystal!” She quickly introduces herself, though she talks a bit too loud. The attention to the cafe shifts towards her, and she flushes a bright red. Their coffees, and Crystal’s hot chocolate, are placed in front of them and the three of them decide to leave. Crystal is happy to observe the two of them talking as they walk through the busy streets of Paris. She admires Gigi, the way her nose curves and the light dusting of freckles on her nose. The way her lips turn up and the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. Crystal thinks she’s absolutely beautiful.

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

About a month into Crystal’s summer, her and Gigi have become much closer. The two of them text almost everyday, usually Crystal sending Gigi some silly meme that made her laugh until she cried. Today, the two of them sit in an open field in the park close by Nicky’s house. It’s rare for the three of them to be separated, but today Nicky has to do something with her mother and couldn’t join them on their outing. Crystal is laying down against the grass, watching the way the clouds roll slowly across the sky. Gigi sits next to her, twirling a flower that Crystal insisted that she kept between her fingertips.

Gigi had been struggling for the past few weeks with whatever she was feeling. It seemed that whenever she was around Crystal, her heart would race and all rational thoughts would fly out of her mind. Gigi had never felt this way before for anyone, not even the boys she had dated. Ever since she was little, she had known that she was different, but she never wanted to admit it. Back in LA, gay people weren’t exactly an anomaly. Her best friend, Jackie, was a lesbian. She remembered sitting on Jackie’s bed with her, watching the Persian cry as she came out to her. Gigi was incredibly happy for her, and those feelings that had been brewing up in her chest for any pretty girl that showed her the time of day only got worse.

If Jackie was unapologetically herself, then why couldn’t Gigi? Her eyes flicked over to Crystal once more, and she rested her chin in her hand as she watched the other teenager. Crystal was also someone that Gigi looked up to. Not literally, considering that Crystal was a few inches shorter than her, but in a figurative way. Crystal was always herself, she never seemed to abide by anyone's rules but her own. Crystal was everything that Gigi wished she could be.

Gigi lay down in the grass next to the other girl, staring up at the clouds. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and reaching over to lock both of their pinkies together. It was a simple gesture, but it made Gigi’s heart practically leap into her throat. Crystal didn’t seem to mind, instead the girl locked their fingers together and gave Gigi’s hand a squeeze. Gigi could have sworn she stopped breathing at that.

The pair lay in silence for a few moments, Gigi trying to regulate her breathing and Crystal sneaking peeks at the other from the corner of her eye. Gigi sat up abruptly, looking down at Crystal in the grass. Her heart pounded in her ears, and it was almost deafening. “Crystal, can I tell you something?”

Crystal sits up, concern present on her face. She fiddles with her fingers in her lap nervously, looking up at Gigi. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“I think…” Gigi wanted to confess everything. She wanted to tell Crystal how beautiful she thought she was, how her smile alone would make her day. She wanted to tell her how much she wished she could kiss her all day, and lay in bed and cuddle with her for hours. The words caught in her throat, and she had to force herself to look away from the other girl. “I think I’m gay.”

That hadn’t been exactly what she wanted to say, but it was enough. Crystal bounded forward, wrapping Gigi up in a warm hug. The presence of her friend was enough to put Gigi at ease, and she silently prayed that Crystal couldn’t feel the way that her heart pounded. She relaxed into the hug, closing her eyes and breathing in the sweet scent of Crystal's perfume. It was enough to make her feel at peace.

“I’m so proud of you, G.” Crystal whispered into her ear, and it sent chills down Gigi’s spine. After a few moments of simply holding each other, Crystal pulled away with a smile. The rest of their day was spent talking about girls they thought were attractive, and everytime Crystal laughed, Gigi had to force herself not to spit out that she thought Crystal was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

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

Nearing the end of summer, Nicky had insisted that the three of them had a slumber party. Crystal didn’t really think it counted as a slumber party, considering that the two girls lived together. Really, it was just a sleepover with Gigi. Nicky was very adamant about the fact that it was a slumber party, because there were three people. Crystal just laughed at her and let her believe what she wanted.

Gigi arrived in the late afternoon, and the three of them made their way to Nicky’s room. Crystal told her earlier that she wouldn’t be sleeping in there, and that Gigi could pick between sleeping in Nicky’s room or hers. She was pretty sure that Gigi would choose Crystal’s, but there was still a bit of doubt in her mind that the other girl would rather spend time with Nicky. She would consider Gigi her best friend here, and she hoped the sentiment was returned.

Nicky, being the leader that she was, suggested the three of them watch horror movies. Crystal was an absolute baby when it came to them. Anytime even the slightest noise happened, she would jump and cower behind Gigi’s arm. Gigi thought it was absolutely adorable, and she would have to thank Nicky one day for allowing herself to be in this position. Once the first movie was over, Crystal had practically begged the two of them to watch anything else.

This was how they found themselves in the middle of some old romance movie. Nicky was long asleep by this point, and Gigi herself was starting to feel tired. It was the middle of the night, and Crystal seemed to be completely immersed in the movie. Her eyes were filled with tears as the two leads kissed in the rain, and when a breathy ‘I love you’ slipped out of the male character’s lips, the tears started flowing. Gigi blinked quickly, registering the way that Crystal sobbed beside her at the movie.

She glanced down at Nicky’s sleeping form, before moving to tug on Crystal’s arm. “You alright? You’re crying a lot for some trashy romance movie.”

Crystal looked up at her, eyes glassy with tears. She sniffled, motioning for Gigi to follow after her. She led the pair down to her room, stepping inside and watching Gigi close the door behind herself. It certainly wasn’t the first time Gigi had stepped foot in Crystal’s room, but over the two months she had been in Paris, it changed. The walls went from being barren to being full of paintings that Crystal insisted she needed to own. The shelves filled with photographs of the three of them, most of which Crystal was smiling brightly as Nicky and Gigi laughed on either side of her. There was a photo in particular that always caught Gigi’s eye.

It was of her and Crystal, sitting right on the girls nightstand. Crystal had her arm slung over Gigi’s shoulder, pulling the girl into the frame. Gigi looked shocked, mouth hanging open slightly as Crystal simply laughed beside her. It always made Gigi’s heart race when she stepped into Crystal’s room. It was special to her, and the fact that Crystal left it on her nightstand would make her believe that there was a possibility that Crystal felt the same way Gigi did.

Crystal opened her mouth, tears still fresh in her eyes as she spoke. Her voice was hoarse and sleepy, and Gigi’s eyes were full of concern as she watched her. “I’ve been trying so hard to hide this, Geeg. I really have. But, school is about to start, and I don’t wanna go into it with all these thoughts in my head.” Crystal took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I like you so much. So much more than a best friend. Ever since we met, you just make me feel like I’m living one of the stupid romance movies.”

Crystal’s words tore straight into Gigi’s heart. Just like the night Gigi had come out to her best friend, she wrapped her up in a tight hug. She could feel the way Crystal tentatively held her back, and once she was sure the other girl had stopped crying, she pulled back. Crystal quickly spoke up, eyes darting away. “I’m sorry, I hope this doesn’t make things weird-”

Gigi didn’t let Crystal finish her sentence. She crashed her lips against the other girls, closing her eyes and pouring every longing emotion she could into the kiss. All the time she had fantasized about kissing Crystal didn’t live up to the real thing. Their lips fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, and Gigi could taste the cherry lip gloss that Crystal loved wearing. Gigi hoped that Crystal could feel just how much she loved the other girl.

After a few moments, Crystal pulled away to look up at Gigi. Her tears had dried, and were replaced with a small smile on her lips. Gigi could see how tired Crystal was, and she pulled the two of them towards the other girl's bed. They fell back on it, a small laugh escaping Crystal’s lips as they snuggled underneath the covers.

The two of them drifted off into a peaceful sleep, tangled up in eachother.

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

Crystal was twenty two now. Every so often, she would text Nicky and the two of them would catch up on Facetime. They had parted ways after Crystal’s exchange program, but had never truly lost touch. Nicky was busy with her fashion label that she worked so hard for, and Crystal was a freelance artist bouncing around jobs. She had finally managed to leave Missouri, opting to move to New York. She figured she could get more art opportunities in such a big city.

Along the way, she had met some of her greatest friends. Jan, a musical theatre major, had proved to be someone that Crystal absolutely loved. The other girl would gush about her girlfriend, and soon to be wife, whenever she could. Crystal loved hearing about their love, she had always been such a hopeless romantic at heart. Jan was sure that Crystal and Jackie would get along swimmingly, and when Jackie finally visited, her theory was proven correctly.

Jackie was smart, much smarter than Crystal was. She was wise beyond her years, and sometimes Crystal wondered if she really was just as young as they were. The two of them became quick friends, and it made Jan ecstatic. Crystal could swear she had heard the name before, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

Everytime Jan would gush about her fiance, or she would watch one of her favorite romance movies, her mind would wander back to her exchange program. She thought about Gigi, how she was doing and if she ever went on to become the seamstress she always dreamed of. Nicky never brought her name up, so she could assume the two of them hadn’t kept in contact after their year of friendship.

That summer had always stood out to Crystal. It was the first summer where she experienced true love, the first summer she had ever been truly happy being away from home. Gigi had made that the best summer of her life, and every now and again Crystal would wish she could do it all over. Gigi’s number was still saved in her phone, even after all those years. The little heart she had next to it never changed, and it was a reminder of the time the two of them spent together.

Crystal never brought up Gigi to her new friends. She didn’t want them to think she was weird for pining after a girl she had a romance with at fifteen years old. Still, that summer the spent together would forever remain in her memories.

She still had that damned photograph too, sitting behind a few new ones of her and Jan on her nightstand.

#rupauls drag race #rupauls drag race 12 #rpdr #rpdr 12 #rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #nicky doll #jackie cox #jan sport #crystal x gigi #crygi #goodemethyd #small mentions of jankie as well

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statticscribbles · 3 years

Text

Push

Summary: Clay/Hannah; Hannah doesn’t push clay away at Jessica’s party

He’s just trying to find Hannah, just trying to leave if he can’t. He doesn’t focus on much else, not even the details or excuses of why he was at the party. Clay’s standing in front of her and he can see Hannah hesitating. She’s not angry, just shaking, like she’s cold, he wonders if her lashing out, the sudden shout was just because he’d startled her.

“Want to get out of here?” He doesn’t grin at her, not with how panicked she looked instead she pulls her hand back where she was reaching for him and he shuffles a step forward.

“To Monet’s, just to get away from… this…” He waves his hand towards the living room and Hannah smiles nodding.

Clay isn’t really sure how it happened; one minute he’s offering to bring her to Monet’s and the next they’re just sitting in the car, Hannah’s shaking and he just wants to hold her but she’s curled on herself and he doesn’t want to scare her.

“Hannah, hey, is it okay if I hug you?” Hannah looks up and he can see she’s a little confused but she nods. He wonders if she’s even aware that she’s crying still. Clay doesn’t lean over the seat, instead he gets out of the car and walks over to the passenger side, wrapping his arms around her when she opens the door.

“What happened Hannah, what happened?” He mumbles petting her hair and she seems to swallow her sobs for a moment before asking about going inside.

They’re sitting across from each other and Clay’s almost considering sitting on his hands with how much he keeps trying to reach for her. She’d ordered a tea and is shakily trying to lift it, she looks up to him and he sighs, slowly moving to sit next to her, he’s confused when she folds into him and shivers.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles trying to pull herself up but she seems exhausted from whatever meltdown she had been having that she doesn’t actually move. Clay’s happy they chose one of the seats that are really just oversized armchairs.

Hannah doesn’t say anything when he wraps his arm around her and she just shivers again.

“Hannah, what happened.”

“I saw Bryce…” She mumbles and Clay immediately freezes, he remembers the talk and implications in the hot tub.

“Hannah, did..”

“Not, not me… Jessica, he…” She looks like she’s going to be sick and Clay just nervously hushes her, keeping his breathing steady and telling her to match it. She does and they both nod to each other finishing their drinks and starting to drive back.

“Can you just drop me home…”

“Yeah, just, hold on.” Clay pulls over texting Justin and letting him know what he thinks Bryce has done, the easiest excuse is Clay was drunk and misinterpreted whatever he saw, there’s no need to drag Hannah into it.

“So home we go…”

“Actually…” Hannah twirls a strand of hair around her fingers and Clay can’t help find it cute.

Mhm?”

“Can, I just, I don’t want to go home right now. I don’t want to go anywhere.” She sniffles and slumps in the seat drawing her knees up to her chest. Clay stays parked on the side of the road and chews his lip.

“Anywhere like a place, or Anywhere like living.”

“Both.” She mumbles almost shy as if she’s just seeing him for the first time

“You feel like that too?”

“Of course; do, have you talked to your parents about it? I mentioned it to my mom and she was pretty upset, but, well she’s helped a bit, got me into journaling my feelings. I bet you’d be an amazing writer. Or you could record them! You have such a lovely voice.”

“Me recording my feelings? Just so anyone can see them…”

“No pick something old, like cassette tapes, so only you can play them. Tell them all the horrible things that have happened. Then, uhh hell bury them, Let them go to rest, let them stop haunting you. You’re too good of a person to be this haunted Hannah.”

“Would you help? Just, I feel silly talking to myself.”

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

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woodelf68 · 4 years

Text

Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out

My long-promised homage to @worryinglyinnocent‘s Playtime ‘verse, because she managed to write fifty installments without doing hippies, and I had to rectify that. Also my contribution to @rumbelleishope. Rated E.

***

The large cardboard box bearing items from the estate sale was like a time capsule from the late 1960s. Gold sorts through the items, fond memories of his early childhood stirred by such things as the beaded curtain and concert posters and the heavy stack of albums, their cardboard covers worn along the edges but still bright with the distinctive graphics of the era. The Who, Jefferson Airplane, Country Joe and the Fish, Iron Butterfly. Donovan, too, Glasgow-born like himself. He can hear them in his head, like a soundtrack to the Summer of Love, and he wonders if Belle will like any of them. He’s fairly certain that she’ll like the clothes, and holds up a loose, flowing smock with wide sleeves and delicate flowers embroidered around the neckline and hem. It’s a pretty thing, and he can easily see Belle wearing it, hopes that she’ll want to.

Methodically he sorts through the contents of the box, dividing everything into three piles. One to be priced and sold – the two posters were what had drawn him to bid on this lot in the first place, and he knows that he can sell them for a pretty penny – one of things he thinks Belle might be interested in, and one of a few items of clothing that he looks at doubtfully, unsure if he wants them to fit or not. But he thinks of Belle in the short dress, thinks of surprising her with a scenario they haven’t played out yet, knows he won’t regret any temporary feelings of silliness at wearing what are, after all, fairly normal clothes compared to some of the things he’s put on for her. Making up his mind, he goes into the shop’s small bathroom and locks the door.

Several minutes later he’s studying his reflection, and surprisingly not feeling too ridiculous. although he would die of embarrassment if anyone other than Belle were to see him wearing a suede leather vest adorned with long fringes. But the undyed linen shirt with the open neck and band collar is soft and comfortable, and if it’s a little too big, it’s not overly so, and he can roll up the sleeves. Same with the trousers, he’s sure that the flare-legged rust denim was originally meant to fit a bit more tightly than they do on his frame, but although he knows that Belle would no doubt appreciate that, he’s gotten used to more freedom of movement. With a belt and the cuffs turned up if he doesn’t want them to drag on the ground, the jeans fit well enough. The clothes remind him of his childhood, those years after he had been taken in by his aunts, where he had learned the feeling of security, and being wanted, and what it was like to be praised and encouraged instead of constantly belittled. Whether it’s the warm memories associated with the era, or simply the fact that he knows his ten year old self would have loved to have had a fringed leather vest, he’s satisfied with his image. Now all he has to do is suggest a scene. He thinks about it as he changes back into his suit and tucks the vintage garments into a bag. The shop is small, and would be easily decorated, but far too public for more than a quickie. The large Victorian house filled with fine antiques is not right at all. That leaves the cabin, he decides.

Saturday morning, he drops Belle off at the library and hands her a box tied with string that he’d stashed in the back seat of the Cadillac. “Don’t open it until lunchtime,” he says, knowing the pleasure of an anticipated surprise. “I won’t be in the shop today; I’ve got some other business to take care of.”

“All right; see you later.” Belle watches him drive off, mystified by the package in her hands. By the time lunchtime rolls around, she’s more than ready to tear off the box lid and find out what’s in it. A piece of paper sits on top of some tissue paper-covered contents, with the heading “Playtime?” She forces herself to read the rest before folding back the tissue paper and seeing what awaits her. “It’s 1968. Fibre artist and co-founder of Storybrooke’s new “Enchanted Forest” commune “Rumpelstiltskin” Gold has agreed to an interview with the hip young reporter from the local newspaper. Please confirm interview at 6 pm Saturday.” Intrigued, she folds back the tissue paper and nearly squeals with delight, instantly picking up the beaded, white leather headband that lays on top of the other items and tying it around her head. She gets out her compact mirror to admire how it looks for a moment before texting Rum back.

“Interview confirmed. Looking forward to it.”

He must have been waiting for her reply; his return message is swift. “Dove will have the car there for you at five; I’ll see you later.”

Dove arrives with the keys to the Cadillac before she closes the library at five, and as soon as she locks the front door, she retires to the restroom to change into her outfit. It’s a beautiful day, warm and sunny, and she drives out to the cabin as instructed, deciding what she’s going to say when she gets there. Parking, she starts to head for the door of the cabin when she hears music coming from around the side of it and alters her course. Gold is there, sitting on top of the picnic table, his spindle hanging down and twirling as he spins a smooth yarn from the basket of wool roving in the basket beside him. He is dressed – well, he is dressed to match her, obviously, and it suits him. It suits him incredibly well. He looks softer, younger, his dark hair set off by the off-white linen shirt, feathering out over the band collar, the open neckline displaying the line of this throat and a string of love beads, mostly black with a few white and sky blue ones mixed in at regular intervals. The rust-coloured denim of his jeans sits low on his hips and flares out below the knees and the fringed vest…she’d like to see him move with it on, see the fringes flare out. She kind of wants to borrow it herself, and thinks about what it would feel like to wear it with nothing on underneath. Preferably while she was riding him in bed, rocking back and forth, the open edges of the leather rubbing back and forth against her bare skin… She swallows hard, and pushes that image back to take out and play with again later. Gold looks both snuggly, and sexy, and she wants nothing more than to go over to him and slide her fingers into his hair to hold him still while she kisses him breathless, but she has a part to play first.

”Mr. Gold?” she asks, approaching. “I’m Belle French, with the Storybrooke Mirror. You agreed to an interview.” She holds out her hand and he lets go of the dangling yarn forming between his fingers to reach out and shake it.

“Call me Rum, please.” He goes back to smoothing the spinning fiber into a smooth, even yarn, and Belle can’t help but watch his hands.

“That’s a nickname, right?” She takes out a pen and notebook from her purse, ostensibly jotting it down. “For Rumpelstiltskin, because of the spinning.”

“It is. I quite like it.”

“How did you get into spinning?”

“My aunts taught me. We had a wee croft, a few sheep, chickens, that sort of thing. Turned out that I was quite good at it. I like the rhythm of it, and there’s a lot of satisfaction in taking a bit of dirty, rough wool and combing it clean and spinning it into a strong, even twist of yarn that can be made into things.”

“Do you use the yarn yourself? Make it into things?”

“Aye, we do a fair bit of that here, at the commune. Granny’s our champion knitter, ponchos and scarves and mittens, they always sell really well at the Miner’s Day Festival. And my son and his girlfriend like to make dreamcatchers with the wool; they’re another popular item. And of course we make things for ourselves as well.”

“So is that part of your goal here? To be as self-sufficient as possible?” Belle drops her bag on the grass and sits down beside it, cross-legged, resting her notebook on her thigh and glancing back up after scribbling a few things down in it. It’s a lazy sort of day, and for once she isn’t in a hurry to rush to the sex, instead interested in the unusually detailed background story he’s made up about himself, and hinted at in the letter he’d written. She wouldn’t mind being a journalist if she wasn’t a librarian, she thinks, and wonders if the Mirror might be interested in her starting a weekly column about books.

“Aye, I suppose. It’s cheaper to make your own bread than to buy it, for example, and better for you. You’ll have to talk to Anton, our crops expert, if you want to know more about that side of thing. He’ll talk your ear off about beans if you show even the slightest bit of interest.”

Belle grins, thinking of the gentle giant who ran the local health food store, and knowing it was actually true. “You mentioned your son; tell me about him.”

Gold smiles fondly. “He’s an artist. Does portraits when he can get a commission, freelance political cartoons, sign painting, anything really.”

Neal is indeed a good artist, she knows, even if he has chosen the steady paycheck that came with a job at the hardware store over any artistic dreams, preferring to keep it a hobby. “You sound very proud of him .”

“I am.”

“What about those other people you mentioned? His girlfriend, and Granny. Do they live here, too?”

“Aye, Emma and her parents are fairly new here. Her mother’s our respectable member of society – she’s a teacher at the school – and her father can do just about everything around here. Good with the animals, construction work, anything that needs doing. And I can’t even be jealous of him because he’s so nice, too.”

Belle laughs; it really is a good summation of David.

“And Granny, well, she’s been here since the beginning.”

Belle makes a note, and looks back up to watch the whirling spindle, his fingers never still as he forms the yarn between his fingers. “Tell me about the beginning. What made you decide to start a commune?”

“Well, we didn’t, not really, certainly not at first. When my son was young – “ he hesitates, and then continues. “His mother left us, and there I was, needing to go to work and having a wee boy to take care of at the same time. We didn’t have any family, or friends. But I knew the woman in the flat across from ours had taken in her granddaughter recently and was raising her on her own – there’d been some scandal with the mother, from what Milah had gathered. But the lass looked hearty enough, so I figured that the woman knew how to take care of a bairn and I was desperate. I went knocking on her door, thinking she might be willing to look after Neal for what little money I could offer her, since it would be in the convenience of her own home. And he was a sweet, well-behaved boy, no trouble at all.”

Belle looks up at him uncertainly, knowing that he was talking about his own real life here; at least as far as Neal’s mother leaving them went, and wonders about it. He normally never talks about that period of his life, maybe this was one way he could do so? She isn’t sure about the Granny part; they don’t seem to have that sort of relationship. She stops herself from asking if Granny had really watched Neal, though, not wanting to break character yet. Rum has gone through a lot of trouble putting together a backstory for this particular scenario, and she doesn’t want to break the mood. She realises that she knows even less about Granny’s past, or Ruby’s parents, and makes a note on her pad to ask later. She squints against the sun, positioned behind his head and outlining the locks of hair falling forward into his face, and tries to think what would be the next question that a journalist would ask.

“Were you working as a spinner then?”

“Lord, no, an accountant. It’s only been in the last few years that people have begun appreciating handcrafted items again, enough to pay a little more for them than mass-produced factory goods. It was when the last of my aunts died that I took it up again. They’d left me their cottage, and everything in it, including their wheels and a good stash of both raw wool and spun yarn. I would have moved back to Scotland and lived there, but Neal had his friends and his life here, and wanted to stay, so I sold the place and brought as many of their things home with us as possible, things that I remembered from my childhood, even though I had to place most of it in storage. But I made Neal a scarf for Christmas from the yarn, and his friend Emma then asked if I could make her a hat, and paid for it with her allowance money, and then Granny’s Ruby wanted one, and pretty soon the boutique in town contacted me about selling some of my stuff there. I took a leap of faith and quit my job, but if I was going to spend all day at home spinning and weaving, then I wasn’t going to do it in my tiny apartment. This cabin was for sale, needed a lot of fixing up, but Neal was old enough to help by then and enlisted a bunch of his friends from woodshop at school as well. We had it fixed up and livable in quite a short amount of time, and well, that was the start of things.”

Belle mentally sorts out the facts from fabrication. His aunts had been real, she knows, but the cabin has never been more than a weekend getaway place. She is saved having to think of another question by the music in the background coming to a stop and Gold putting aside his spindle and going over to the record player to flip over the disc. A new song begins playing, with what she thinks is a bass line, a deep, thumping riff that gets under her skin and makes her want to move. She stands up, leaving her notepad and pen lying on her bag in the grass, and goes to meet Gold. “I like this song,” she says, beginning to sway in place as he turns back around to face her.

“Do you?”

“Mm-hm.” She takes his hands, trying to get him to dance with her. “In-a-gadda-da-vida, honey, don’t you know that I love you,” she sings, and nearly laughs at the way his eyebrows go up in surprise, biting back the remark that Storybrooke does have an oldies radio station, and it’s kind of hard to forget a song that seems to go on forever. “In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby, don’t you know that I’ll always be true?” She lifts his arms up, spinning beneath him, and smiling; he helps twirl her, her lightweight skirt flaring out around her.

“Oh, won’t you come with me,” she sings, and her mind completely derails in a sexual direction. “Won’t you take my hand?” With a filthy smirk on her face she tugs at his hands, backing away, and he follows, entranced, helpless to do otherwise. “Oh, won’t you come with me and walk this land? Please, take my hand.” She stops as they reach the picnic table, putting her hands on his shoulders, swaying to the music, forcing him to move as well, his feet staying planted but hips and shoulders moving to the beat.

“That’s it,” she encourages, and he smiles, drawing her close with his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against his body. She loops her arms around his neck, playing with his hair, her gaze drawn to the open collar of his shirt. “You look good,” she says.

“Do I?’ He tilts his head, grazes his lips against hers.

“Mm-hm. You should wear light colours more often.” She dips her head, pressing a kiss against his collarbone, mouthing against the warm skin.

“Have we moved into the second portion of the programming?” he asks, amused, leaning in to run his tongue around her earlobe.

“New questions. Like, do you believe in free love?” She runs her hand up his back, feeling each bump in his spine through the soft shirt, and then back down again, slipping up underneath the sun-warmed fabric.

“Oh, most definitely,” he assures her, his breath ghosting over hers as the music throbs in the background, a primal beat that makes him want to move against her, inside her. He debates the practicalities of just lifting her up onto the top of the picnic table and taking her right there.

“And is there a reason for that picnic blanket that you spread out so thoughtfully in the shade of the tree over there?”

“There are twigs and bugs in the grass,” he says, and Belle snorts. “And I thought, if any visitors should wish to recline in comfort…”

“Well, then,” she says, and takes his hand, leading him behind her towards the blanket. She sinks down upon it and he sits down beside her, facing her, and she can’t think of anything else to say, because all she wants to do is touch him. She slides her hand beneath his hair at the nape of his neck and draws him closer and he tilts his head and then they’re kissing languorously, need slowly building between them. Belle slips her hands up under the hem of his shirt, then back out again, tugging at the hem. “Off,” she instructs.

Gold breaks away from the path he’d been nuzzling along her neck to grin at her. “Run out of questions, have you?”

“The only thing I want to know is what you’re going to look like spread out naked before me,” she says, her voice gone a bit husky.

Gold sheds his vest first and then reaches back and yanks his shirt off over his head, his eyes darkening. The light breeze rustling the leaves above them feels good on his heated skin as he shakes his hair out of his eyes, reaching out to splay his hands over Belle’s ribs before she can touch him herself, very much aware that she isn’t wearing a bra and grazing his thumbs over her nipples. Her breathing quickens and her head falls back as he rubs them, back and forth and back and forth, feeling them tighten and swell until she moans and reaches down to grab the hem of her own shirt. Gold obligingly drops his arms so that she can pull it off and cast it aside, the motion lifting her breasts and stretching out her taut belly. She kicks off her sandals and Gold takes the opportunity to remove his own low cut boots and socks, shifting more comfortably now onto his knees, and drawing Belle forward to straddle one of his thighs before kissing her again, more urgently than before.

Belle begins moving, riding his hard thigh, rubbing herself against him. His belt buckle digs into her stomach, and she reaches down, tugging it open and free impatiently, and then going for the snap and zipper of his jeans, wanting only warm skin against her, feeling Gold slide his hands up under her skirt, his palms smoothing along her legs. She slips her hand inside his jeans, palms his growing hardness, and Gold makes a desperate sort of noise, pressing up against her and then pulling back, scrambling to his feet to shove down his jeans and underwear together, while Belle makes quick work of removing the rest of her clothes and tossing them to the side, where she spots his discarded vest and, with a small smile, pulls it on over her bare chest. It feels as good as she had imagined, the suede soft but with just enough of a roughness to its texture to make her very aware of it as it shifts over her breasts, the edges grazing her nipples. Gazing up at Gold, she thinks it’s a good angle, his cock already half hard and lifting away from his body, and she thinks about rising back onto her knees and taking him into her mouth, but as she shifts onto her knees and curls a hand around his ankle, he braces his hands on her shoulders and lowers himself back down to the blanket, stretching out above her, one hand supporting her lower back, and she lets him ease her down, enjoying the weight of his hips pressing her down against the ground. They kiss, long and slow, and then he begins working his way down her body, touching and tasting, fingers and lips and tongue as her head falls back and her body arches into him.

She buries her fingers in his hair and gazes up into the branches of the tree as he suckles at her breasts. Something glints there, catches the sun and magnifies it. She closes her eyes briefly against it, becomes more aware of the pulse of the music in the background, the pulse of her blood in her veins. She opens her eyes again as his mouth leaves her and he moves further down, leaving her nipples wet and swollen and aching. She looks down at her body as she lifts her hands to cup her own breasts, to tug and pinch at the nipples and sees small rainbows dancing over her chest, her skin dappled in light and shade from the sun filtering through the leaves. She looks up in puzzlement, and then smiles in delight and reaches up as if she could reach the crystals she spots hanging from the branches of the tree, their prisms catching the light and breaking it up into the bands of colour that paint her skin and increase the dreamlike quality of the moment. She knows at once where they’re from, thinking of the box in the shop’s back room full of dismantled chandelier parts, but the knowledge doesn’t lessen their magic. She traces one along her skin, then takes one of the vest’s long fringes and shifts it back and forth over her nipple, sucking in a breath as it catches briefly before rolling over. Gold runs a hand along her thigh and she lets her legs fall apart and half closes her eyes as his fingers slip inside her, drawing out her moisture and using it to draw slow circles over her clit.

He watches her rolling the fringe back and forth over her nipple, the flesh visibly puckering around the hardening nub, and his own cock hardens in response. He longs to take her into his mouth, but cannot look away.

“You would fit right in at Woodstock,” he says huskily. “Imagine us there, listening to the music, and I’m standing right behind you, and we’re swaying to the music. You’re wearing nothing but your skirt and that vest, and it’s open, and I’m cupping your breasts in my hands, and playing with your nipples.“

Belle’s hips jerk, as the image goes straight to her core.

Gold dips his fingers into her again, and feels the effect his words are having on her. There’s plenty of slick now, for his thumb to glide easily over her flesh, that light, grazing touch that causes her clit to swell and harden in response. His voice drops in pitch, his Scottish accent strengthening without him being quite aware of it. “There’s people all around us, but it doesn't matter, no one does more than glance our way.” He searches his memory for images from the documentary of the famous concert. “It’d been pouring rain earlier, and your shirt had gone drenched and transparent in minutes. Other people were stripping off their wet things, and you’d boldly done the same; there’s no shame here, no constraints. Bodies are natural, they’re beautiful, there’s no need to hide them. There’s people with body paint, offering their services. Perhaps we’ll ask one to decorate your breasts; would you like that?”

Belle can’t keep from squirming, her eyes wide as they rake over his smooth, lightly tanned chest and lower, his cock blatantly erect for her.

“If we could paint you, too. What about you? Is your shirt off?”

“Oh aye, my chest is bare against your back, and my jeans are clinging to me like a second skin, and my cock is straining against the zipper; anyone who looks at me would know how much I want you. I want to take you away from the crowd and find a place to lay you out on the ground and rut into you like a wild beast, but I need you to come first, come on my hands, come for everyone to see – “ He slid his free hand up her chest, pushing the suede leather of the vest aside, completely baring her front, and cupped her breast in his warm hand, his hips shifting and pressing down against her pubis as he leans over her, thumb being replaced by middle finger, changing the angle, rubbing relentlessly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he urges, kneading her breast, his touch rougher here where she prefers lighter down below.

The music pulses in time with her blood and Gold’s hair falls forward to hang in his face. He blocks out the sun, he is haloed by it, sun and shade and the scent of grass and incense and she is here and she is there at the same time and his cock is heavy and stiff against her thigh and the hard knot of pleasure bursts within her and she comes with all her muscles clenching tight and her fingers digging into his skin where she’d reached for him. His finger stills against her, knowing not to move again until she relaxes, the tension sagging out of her body, and she feels good but it’s not enough, there’s an aching emptiness inside her that needs to be filled. She sits up abruptly, tumbling him onto his back, and straddles his hips, taking hold of his cock and stroking it firmly.

“We’ve gone away from the crowd now,” she tells him. “Found a place by the lake, behind some bushes. They offer us some privacy, but we can hear people nearby, going down to the lake, to bathe, to swim. Someone could easily come upon us, if they came in just the right direction.” She rubs her thumb over his slit, coaxing out a bead of moisture, and he lets out a nearly inaudible whine. “I don’t care, though. I want you, and I don’t want to wait. Are you willing to risk it? Willing to risk someone seeing me riding you into the ground?”

“Hell, yes.” He can’t wait, either. “Let them see. Let them see a beautiful woman like you wants someone like me.”

“You say “someone like me” as if I’m not dripping wet for you, as if I don’t want to have you buried inside me more than anything in the world,” she says, and rises up, positioning him at her entrance so he can feel the truth of her words. “You have to be quiet,” she warns, mischievously, and sinks down.

Gold swallows down the noise that wants to escape his throat as she engulfs him. “I don’t know if I can promise that.” He splays his hands out on her waist, just under the edge of the vest, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. Hanging open as it is, the vest only half covers them, baring a lovely wide strip of pale flesh right down the center of her body, adorned only by the love beads she still wore around her neck. As she shifts above him, the edges of the vest fall back, just revealing her nipples, and his cock throbs in response. He bucks up, everything feeling tight, and hot, and urgent. “That vest is a good look on you; we should keep it.”

Belle grins. “I’m glad you think so; I quite like it myself.” She leans forward over him, resting her weight on her hands, and begins to ride him, deliberately shifting continuously in a way that keeps the edges of the vest moving and rubbing against her breasts, her nipples staying hard and sensitive from the teasing friction. She undulates; rising and falling and pleasuring herself on his shaft, the long fringes falling forward as she lowers herself above his body.

Gold arches up as the leather fringes trail over his belly and swing forward to drag over his nipples, driving himself deeper inside her as he seeks more of the teasing sensation. He cups his hands over her breasts, rolling her nipples between forefinger and thumb, and Belle moans. He grins. “I thought we had to be quiet.”

"I never said I would be." She lifts herself up until just the head of his shaft remains within her, glancing down to see the hard column of his flesh joining their bodies. She tightens her muscles around him, squeezing as hard as she can.

Gold's whole body jerks as he cries out, his balls tightening and drawing up. He drags her back down upon him and rolls them over, pulling back out just enough to slam forward into her, rocking her backwards. He thrusts into her again, all control gone, feeling his climax rapidly approaching.

"That's it." Belle braces herself with drawn up knees and urges him on. "Come on, Rum, give it to me." He is all lean, wiry muscle, and dark hair falling forward and shielding his eyes from her view. She arches up into his next thrust, digging her fingers into his lean buttocks and feeling him long and thick and solid inside her. "That's it, so good, come on, come for me."

He snaps his hips forward, driving deep again and again until his body seizes with pleasure and he stills, braced on his forearms with his hips sealed against hers while the hot flood of his release spills inside her. After a few seconds his muscles unclench and he lowers himself to lay atop her, panting and letting his eyes fall shut as he savours the fading rush of ecstasy, his cock twitching a few times in aftershock as he softens inside her. He feels her fingers run through his hair and turns his face into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin and the smell of crushed grass beneath the blanket, the air moving lightly over his sweaty back. A bird chatters above them, and he realises that the record had stopped playing at some point, unnoticed. He takes in a deep breath and rolls off to the side, blinking up at leaf-dappled sunlight and rainbows dancing in the air. He turns his head to the side and the corner of his mouth quirks up as Belle does the same and meets his eyes. She looks as debauched as he feels.

"So, Rumpelstiltskin," she says, reaching out to twine her fingers with his. She feels thoroughly well-used and it is about all she has the energy for at the moment. "Do you have any final words for the readers of our paper?"

Gold's smile widens into a grin. "Yeah. Turn on," He draws their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to her knuckles. "Tune in, and drop out." He lifts his free hand and flashes her a peace sign, feeling utterly sated and stupidly happy. He thinks of the box from the estate sale.

Best buy ever.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle is hope #worryinglyinnocent #ficwoodelf #turn on tune in drop out #AHAHAHA I FINALLY FINISHED IT #THE SMUT HAS BEEN FIGHTING ME FOR TWO YEARS #BUT I WAS DETERMINED TO GET THIS DAMNED THING OUT OF MY DRAFTS #i'll put it up on ao3 in the morning #i want to give the smutty half a better edit when my eyes aren't so burning and blurry #also i'm never writing anything in present tense ever again #but i wanted to match the style of the others #every read through i kept finding spots where i'd slipped back into past tense and had to change all the verbs #ugh

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mirrorballparkers · 5 years

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1. for the prompt thingie mwah!!!

drabble challenge

1. the skirt is supposed to be this short. w peter

(skirts are so cute i have many and i wuv. mwah.)

(mwah back at ya baby !!)

when in europe for two weeks, you could be anyone you wanted to be, nobody there besides your friends and boyfriend, peter parker, knew the real you. so there was no fault in creating a whole new wardrobe, a tiny bit being that you really wanted to leave your boyfriend in awe. you ventured to think your style wasn’t anything significant, no “wow” factor, nothing that would leave your adorable boyfriend with stars in his eyes. only, little did you know, when peter parker was around you, he always had stars in his eyes, flowers blooming in his heart.

peter always admired how kind, love-driven, and soft spoken you were. you had such a fairy-like, sweet essence to you, it was so hard for him to believe that you were his girl. his sweet, lovely girl.

“are you ready? we have to be in the lobby in five minutes. the opera starts at eight.” you overhear your lovely classmate, betty brant, whom you were sharing a room with for the trip.

“coming!” you answer, adjusting your pink plaid skirt, wondering if your new, off brand, choice of clothing would work. it was too late, anyway.

as you and your sweet friend make your way through the hallways of the Prauge hotel, you start to notice your palms getting clammy, seeing stars all around, and not the pretty kinds; not the kinds you’d see on your friday night star gazing with peter and ned.

these were nervous stars; you were nervous beyond belief, afraid that maybe you tried too hard, that you should just run away and hide in your hotel room in the comfort of your hello kitty pajamas.

your fear was expanded as you two reached the lobby, it’s like now it was smaller than ever, and you didn’t know how to react. but the minute you saw your dreamy, handsome prince of a boyfriend, at least seventy five percent of that fear was washed away, always feeling calm around peter.

paralyzed with love and devotation, is what peter described it in his head. when he saw you, looking so effortlessly fairie like and pretty, he didn’t know what to do. he had no idea someone could look so ethereal, so beautiful.

for sure he had to text his aunt may about this adorable new look.

you wave shyly at your sweet boyfriend, conciously pulling your skirt fdown, unsure how it was normal to wear these things on a daily basis. but, one afternoon, you overhead peter talking about how skirts were cute. in order to impress him, you figured that’s what you had to do. (it wasn’t.)

“nice, outfit, y/n.” your head turns over to brad, who was eyeing you in a very odious manner, not to peoers liking. brad “stupid” davis was eyeing his girl, and it wasn’t right. he quickly walks over to you, rolling his eyes at brad.

“h-hey, you. sorry about him.” he giggles nervously.

you rub your arm, smiling at your pretty boy, hearts beating in synch. falling in love every turn of the clock, in synch. “s’okay, brads annoying.”

you tap your foot anxiously, as the two of you stand there, shy and starry-eyed.

“i-i’m excited for the opera, what about you?” peter quips, fiddling with his hands

“i am!” you perk up. “it’s silly how everyone is complaining, there’s something really intriguing about music in a whole other language.”

you always saw the beauty in things, and peter adored that.

“no signature flannel and converse?” peter giggles, eyeing your pink, plaid skirt and white shirt. you look down at your outfit, moving your foot around as you dig it into the rug.

“d-do you not like it?” this was a mistake, a very big mistake.

peters eyes widen, “n-no! no, nooo, i love it baby i-i just...why the change?”

“hmm?” you tilt your head.

“i-i’m not saying i don’t like it, i think shows off a different k-kind of beauty, but i’m not sure why you decided to go with such a...short...cute skirt.” his teenage hormones were rising, and he absolutely could not help it. all he wanted to do is gently hold you by your waist, and kiss your adorable red cheeks and nose. as he always does.

“pete,” you giggled nervously, twirling he strands of your hair, “the skirt is supposed to be this short.” you say.

a pink hue is now very apparent on his nose and cheeks, peter being flustered was the most adorable sight, and you liked how it was very often. it encapsulates who he is.

“i-i kind of did this because,” you bounce on your feet, like a kid. peter giggles at the sight, like a kid.

“i...wanted to impress you.”

peters brows furrow, the group starts to head off onto the bus to the opera, but you two stride along behind, way behind.

“why? you’re outfits are cute.” he giggled, holding his hand out for you, wiggling his fingers. a thing he did often.

an adorable thing, he did often.

“i-i just...i dunno, i feel like sometimes i’m not as girly or cute like the others are. so i decided, since were in europe, i could reinvent my style.”

peter was in shock to hear this, from the bottom of his heart he absolutely adored who you were already. you were his sweet girl, the girl who was always down to be a goofball with him. this was cute, the short skirt, lipgloss, but it definitely wasn’t peter’s girl.

“you don’t gotta do that for me, baby. i like you for you. you’re a dork, remember?” peter nudges your shoulder, making you chuckle and lift your head up to meet his tantalizing baby brown eyes.

he was so handsome, so dreamy.

“your dork?” you asked sweetly.

peter looks around, weary of pda, but proceeds to kiss your cheek as nobody was watching. his sweet, strawberry flavored lips linger on your cheek. he booped it with his nose, and smiles that same peter parker smile.

“mhmm,” he says and the two of you walk to catch up with your classmates.

“i mean,” peter shrugs, his flustered manners returning, “i-i think the skirt looks kinda hot on you...so...maybe save it for me?” you both blush immensely, this wasn’t you two at all, the shy couple you were. but no crime in it being innocent and sweet.

“anything for you, peter parker.” you poke his cheek.

#peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker headcanon #tom holland #spider man: homecoming #spider man: far from home

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