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weirdthinkingdragon · 3 years

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Welcome To The Family (6/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops.

It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much.

Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry.

I promise the darker stuff is coming soon.

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I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night.

Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up.

“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more.

“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?”

“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background.

Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?”

“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs.

My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?”

“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation?

I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet.

Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”

“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways.

“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”

“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.”

“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”

“It’s happened more than once before.”

I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”

“Daddy made him wear a dress!”

An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise.

“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.”

“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”

“He almost did,” he replies jokingly.

“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back.

He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”

“Toooshiiii!”

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Hmph.”

“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.

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We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume.

After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work.

I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often.

One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it.

I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas.

Like a glove. Perfect!

Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help?

I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger.

Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around.

My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot.

He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.”

“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.

I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks.

I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.”

That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!”

I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his.

Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours.

The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.

Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me.

She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me.

I- What? What’s going on lately?

Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!?

Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it’s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though?

I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.

What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd?

Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is.

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Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi.

“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night.

I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.”

“Too late! Sorry!”

I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring. Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now.

The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now.

“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.”

He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?”

I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”

His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.”

Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor.

“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.

Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow.

I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”

He does, but just barely.

It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front.

They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on.

"What's wrong, little hypno-man?"

"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."

"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them.

"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside."

"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up.

"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."

"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed."

"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!"

I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say.

“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”

The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now.

I decided to bring up what happened earlier. “Remember that bad woman from before?”

“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?

As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?”

“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?”

“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies.

“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it.

Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses?

Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment.

Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal.

He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.”

My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything!

Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.

A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.”

“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return.

“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet.

The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.

“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them.

“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~”

I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed!

I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin.

We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress.

I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening.

Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.

… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine.

The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.”

I try to brush them off while looking at the menu.

“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?”

“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not.

“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.

“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses.

What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself!

My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?”

“Tadao, you work here?”

His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?”

“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”

“Ha, you got me there.”

The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand.

“Ya know each other?”

“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.

He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them.

“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.”

“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs.

??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?”

“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far.

It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of.

Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.

“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me.

I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.

He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”

Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit.

He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well.

“Do I?” I question teasingly.

The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem?

He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting.

I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something.

That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind.

“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi.

“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before.

“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.

“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs.

Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!”

The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed.

Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me?

“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well.

“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!”

Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!”

Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.

Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”

I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.

At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point.

Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself.

The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us.

I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone.

Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place.

“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me.

I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”

“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?”

I just nod and enter the bathroom.

A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to.

Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary.

Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves.

This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand.

I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract.

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taglist-

@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy

Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yanderes x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #welcome to the family #yandere poly x reader

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corpsedaydream · 3 years

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crash

so, here i am with a new one shot.

so before anyone asks if i’m gonna be posting frequently again or anything, i process things by writing about them. if something is running through my mind over and over and i can’t think through it on my own in my mind, writing about it generally helps me. this past weekend was supposed to be a fun long weekend away w my friends but it quickly ended when i experienced something pretty traumatic. i haven’t been able to sleep at all the past couple nights and so i started working on this. originally it was just going to be something private to help myself w the panic i was feeling then i started adding a muse into it and then i realised i was still writing about corpse without even meaning to, so i guess he’s still got me feeling musey.

anyway, i thought about keeping this private bc i’m still rly shaken up about what happened but idk feels like a shame to just let it sit on my computer.

idk if i’m back to this blog yet, i still feel indifferent about it. i’m signed out on my phone and was signed out on my laptop until just now and haven’t opened my inbox.

anyway. here’s the one shot.

word count: 1666 words (i’m not kidding)

trigger warning: car crash, panic attack

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crash

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up wake up wake up.

The words repeated over and over in your head. You’d had dreams about crashing your car before, but usually you woke up just before the point of impact. This time you didn’t.

This couldn’t of happened, this can’t be real, this is a a dream, I’ve got to wake up.

But you were already very much awake, this was very much real.

The colour had already drained from your face, tears were welling up in your eyes and your heart had already sunk. Your hands were trembling, your chest was completely still, you weren’t breathing in that moment. Your body had reacted before your mind had completely caught up.

“Fuck.” Was all you managed to say as realisation had hit you. You’d gotten into a car crash.

You looked around you, wondering how the others cars on the road were still moving when it felt like your world had just come to a stop when your car had its collision. You heard your dad’s voice in your head, all the things he’d told you when he taught you how to drive, had - god forbid - you ever ended up in a situation like this.

You went through the motions as well as you could. You were in a state of shock and physically, you were definitely there, but mentally, you really weren’t present. You were having an out of body feeling in the most terrifying way, it was a defence from the panic that had overwhelmed you.

Corpse felt a surge of anxiety. He had no idea why, either. All he was doing was looking through fan art on twitter, he hadn’t seen anything that usually would make him feel like that. It just throttled its way into himself seemingly out of no where.

It was especially odd seeing that today had been such a good day. Waking up beside was usually something that put him in a good head space.

So he started to call you, you always made him feel better. But then he remembered you were driving and you were a cautious driver, you never answered your phone when you were behind the wheel. You’d told him in the past how tenacious your dad had been as a driving teacher and it had really stuck with you.

Just as he was about to hang up, knowing you weren’t going to answer, you did.

“Hello?” Something was off. Corpse heard it right away in just that one greeting from you.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t even greet you back, he already had anxiety running through him and the unsettling tone of your answer of the phone had only made it increase.

“I think so.” You were so monotoned. Corpse had never heard you speak this way. You were a lot of things, but monotone was not one. You were expressive, bright and dramatic.

“You think so?” He repeated in a questioning way, wanting to know what was wrong.

“Yeah.” You responded so plainly again. Corpse almost wanted to ask you who was he speaking to right now, because surely this couldn’t have been you. This person had your voice, but this was a person he did not know right now.

“What’s going on?”

“I crashed my car.” You said it to him so simply. There was no emotion behind it. His heart thundered as if a terrible hail storm had just broken out.

“What?!”

“I crashed my car.” You repeated. Once again so eerily unemotional.

“Where are you?!”

Corpse shouldn’t have been driving in the state he was in, but he needed to get to you. His emotions were running so high and he couldn’t comprehend why yours weren’t.

After what felt like the longest drive of his life, he reached the crash site. His panic peaked when he spotted the ambulance, immediately thinking the worst. But then he saw you standing to the side of it. You were up and talking to the paramedics, that was at least a good sign you weren’t seriously injured.

“(Y/N),” He called for you as he got out of his own car. And just like your voice on the phone, your movements were so robotic.

You were normally so open with your emotions, you were such a readable and honest person. When you were happy, you shined, when you were mad, you yelled red, when you were sad, you cried oceans. But Corpse had never seen you in a true state of shock. He’d never seen your fight or flight response. And apparently it was a stillness and unresponsive, the complete opposite to how you were normally.

“Are you okay?” He knew you probably weren’t, but he couldn’t find any clue to how you were feeling. Until his footsteps brought him closer to you.

You didn’t respond to him at all. Even words felt like too much right now. As he neared you, though, he spotted the signs of fear your body displayed that your words did not. Your hands and arms were trembling, your shoulders were slumped, your face was completely pale, sweat dotted all over your forehead despite it not being a hot day, tears were slowly spilling from your eyes one by one, your chest was moving unevenly as you struggled to breathe properly.

“Baby, c’mere.” Corpse didn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. Holding you so tenderly against him. That’s when he felt that it was more than just your arms and hands that were trembling, your entire body had a slight shake to it. He knew you were experiencing true terror in that moment.

The time between your banged up car getting placed onto a tow truck and arriving back at your apartment felt like a blur.

You’d just gotten off the phone with your insurance provider when you’d heard Corpse.

“Are you in any pain?”

"What?” You’d heard him perfectly but you hadn’t once thought about how this had affected you physically.

“Are you in any pain?” He repeated himself.

“I’m not sure.” And you weren’t, but the paramedics had said that adrenaline would be coursing through you right now and adrenaline was the biggest distraction from pain. “I’m gonna go have a shower.”

“Okay.” Corpse watched you with concerned eyes until you disappeared behind your bathroom door. He so badly wanted to help, wanted to make you feel better, break you out of this state you were in that he was so not used to.

You didn’t know how much time you’d spent in the shower. But it was long enough that the sky had grown darker and the moon had replaced the sun by the time you emerged. Once you’d gotten dressed, you made slow steps towards your bedroom. Your hands were trembling more violently than before and your breathing was speeding up.

The shock was finally wearing off and reality was getting ready to slap you hard across the face.

“Corpse...” Your voice was so silent, almost as if you couldn’t form a word due to the air that seemed harder and harder to breathe as a panic attack started to take control of you.

Corpse might not have even heard you had he not been on such high alert for you right now. But he was, and so he did he hear you and when he saw the state you were in, he instantly got up from his spot on your bed where he was waiting for you and was wrapping you up tight.

You were hyperventilating so dangerously, your heart felt like it was being encased in treacherous clouds that tightened with every intake of air you struggled to get.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had cried this way. You were breaking down.

Corpse was completely holding you up. Had it not been for him, you would be a crumbled heap on the floor.

The both of you didn’t sleep that night.

Every time you were close to drifting off, the crash would replay in your mind on an insufferable loop and you would jolt awake and the panic would restart all over.

And every time, Corpse was right there to hold you through it. He didn’t sleep due to how concerned he was about you.

The next day was a little easier mentally, but a lot harder physically. You’d gotten so much emotion out the night before that now the pain could have your attention.

Everything from your hips up felt sore, stiff and tense. Every time you moved your neck was scary because it felt like it was about to snap. But worst of all was your chest. It was hard and painful to breathe. The paramedics had warned you about this. The impact to your chest was going to take the longest to recover from. You kept your breathing shallow, any other kind of breathing made you wince and Corpse noticed.

“You’re hurting.” It wasn’t a question, he was stating what he noticed. He’d known the signs of someone in pain. Plus he had also taken note of the bruises that had appeared on your skin, the colouring of them looking like a painting of a galaxy, all purple and blue.

“A little bit.”

“Mhm.” He knew it was more than a little bit, but he wasn’t about to argue with you. He looked over you laying beside him, grateful that you were still here, you were alive. A car could be replaced, but you could not.

You were flat on your back because that was really only the current position that felt even the tiniest bit comfortable right now. Corpse was on his side, one of his hands supporting his head as he leaned over you. His other hand began to soothingly run his fingers through your hair and you let your eyes flutter close at the touch.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled back, keeping your eyes shut and feeling exhaustion take over you.

“Try sleeping, baby. I’ll be right here.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse imagine #writing #mine

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Nobody ever knew this, but the day Alex had lost his leg, Michael had known about it.

Since the very moment Alex had told Michael that he’d enlisted, something had begun along the anguish in his heart. Plans. Michael had known secrecy was law in the military, but that hadn’t been nearly enough to keep him from strategizing. How would he keep an eye on Alex? How would he make sure his man was okay? He wasn’t family, he didn’t know any of Alex’s actual family, and if anything happened to him, Michael would be the last to know, if allowed to know at all.

So he’d hacked security systems he shouldn’t have hacked. He would realize later on that Alex could’ve done in seconds when he’d only managed after almost a year of nonstop research and covert sites and shady computer creeps. But he’d been desperate, and when he’d found Alex’s name registered under a certain unit, he knew the lost paychecks and sleepless nights had been more than worth it.

Every morning after he woke up and every night before he went to sleep, he would pull up the soldier listings, and touch Alex’s name, thinking of him, pretending he was warm and safe wherever he was.

“I’ll see you again,” he murmured to himself, hoping that somehow Alex could hear him.

Then one day, Alex had disappeared off the listings. Michael had only been half-awake when he’d checked, but as he scrolled to where he knew Alex’s name should’ve been and couldn’t find it, panic had quickly set in and he’d paced the airstream, the computer in hand, scrolling through the names a million times.

It took threatening another hacker with an abnormal strength that he would never explain to find Alex’s name again under the Captains listing. The hacker had cursed at him as he’d ditched the money and run for his life, but Michael didn’t care. He was too busy staring at Alex’s name, reminding himself that his airman was safe and unharmed. That he was a captain now.

Michael didn’t know how he felt about that. Alex was a captain, rising in the ranks. He had his own team with other airmen that followed his orders. On the one hand, the bigger part of him wondered if this meant Alex would never come back. On the other . . . his Alex was a captain. The pride made Michael smile.

“That’s my boy.”

For the next five years, nothing had changed. Michael kept checking to make sure Alex’s name was still there, the awards piling up. Michael had just begun to fear that he really wouldn’t see Alex again in that final year, but he looked for Alex’s name anyway. He didn’t care, he just wanted to know Alex was safe.

Then, one night, with a pain in his chest that he couldn’t explain and an anxiety that made him want to look up Alex’s name before his shift was even over, Michael found his airman with a Purple Heart listed beside him.

His brows furrowed, and he clicked on the linked information. He couldn’t remember what the purple heart was for, but dread settled in his stomach anyway and made him nauseous. Then he saw it. And he remembered. The Purple Heart was awarded to soldiers who were gravely wounded in battle.

“No,” he breathed, standing up with the computer in hand, staring at the report as if expecting it to be a joke. “No.”

An explosion had gone off where Alex’s team had been stationed.

“He’s alive,” he told himself, the very thought making him tremble and his vision shatter. “He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.”

But his leg . . . his leg had been . . .

Feeling sick, Michael left the computer on his bed, grabbed his jacket, and drove with lightning speed to the Wild Pony. He stopped outside the doors, trying to steady his racing heart. Maria would know. One of Alex’s brothers might get in touch with her, someone would’ve gotten in touch with Mimi, and she would’ve told her daughter. Either way, Maria would know, and if she was happy and unbothered, then Alex was fine, and it was a glitch in the system. Everything was fine.

Michael stepped inside, the usual chatter and jukebox music of the bar turned to faint background noise, nothing so intoxicating and frighteningly inviting as it usually was. That was because Michael was here on a mission.

He made a beeline for the bar, tilting his head up and down looking for Maria. He spotted a head of brown curls and his eyes fell on Maria on the phone. Something like barely processed relief began to settle in his chest as she laughed.

Then he got closer, and realized Maria wasn’t laughing at all. She was crying. He froze.

Another waitress came up behind her and helped lead her into the backroom, patting her back consolingly before she took over the bar. Michael wordlessly turned around and left.

He sat on the ground against the airstream until dawn started to peek through, staring at Alex’s name. He had been taken to DC, the name of the hospital there in the report.

When his fingers turned numb and he started to forget where he was, his mind consumed with Alex, lying awake in his hospital bed, probably screaming his head off, alone and scared and miserable, he got to his feet, into his truck, and started it without a word.

He drove and drove and drove. He stopped once to put in gas and forced a greasy burger down his throat to stave off the blinding hunger before he kept driving. The streets changed, the desert faded, white houses sat side by side, and Michael soon found himself parked in front of the hospital where Alex was.

Michael was out of the truck before it was properly parked, and he stormed up to the front desk. “What room is Alex Manes in?”

The receptionist blinked. “Are you family?” Michael swallowed through a clenched jaw. That seemed to have been answer enough for the older woman. “Sorry, he’s only allowed family in this time –”

“Please,” he whispered. “Please. I came all the way from Roswell in New Mexico. Please just give me five minutes. Just five minutes.”

The woman eyed him for a moment, as if realizing something. Her gaze turned sympathetic and her shoulders slumped. “Fifth floor, room 52 in Recovery. Five minutes –” she warned but Michael was already running towards the stairs, taking them two steps at a time.

He ran down the hall and slid into a supply closet to avoid being spotted by a group of doctors making their way to the breakroom.

“I’ve never seen anybody like that captain before,” one of them said, and Michael’s heart leapt into his throat. “He just turned so . . . quiet.”

“What do you expect?” the other guy sighed. “You met his father. Those Manes men are made of stone.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Michael was searching for room 52. He came up to the door, and swallowed thickly. Hanging on the wall next to the door was a plaque that read, Recovery. It made Michael sick that Alex would ever need to recover from anything.

He hesitated and opened the door, holding his breath. He’d expected to see seventeen year old Alex sitting up in bed, idly strumming a guitar with maybe a bandage over his eyebrow. As he stepped inside though, he found a twenty-eight year old man, lying asleep in bed, the blanket pulled up to his chest as a heart monitor gave a steady beep beep beep. He slept on his back, his head turned the other way, his hands folded on his stomach.

But Michael could still make out the slight stubble on Alex’s jaw, his hair still soft by cut short and sticking out in different places as if refusing to stay down in its natural state. His cheeks were rosy but hollow, and the black circles around his eyes seemed darker than ever. He looked so much older, in more ways than one.

Michael’s eyes burned as he approached, something like a chocked whimper sounding in his throat as he reached out and touched Alex’s jaw, the stubble scratching his fingers. Even when Alex had been a teenager, he’d woken at the drop of a feather. It was a testament to his exhaustion and grief that he slept so soundly now, not anything resembling peace.

It was now that Michael saw him that he realized Alex had never known peace a day in his life. Life had been taking and taking away from him, and this. This was the biggest loss.

He looked down Alex’s form under the blanket, the muscle evident after years of training, and his breath caught. There was nothing below the right knee, the blanket revealing just what he’d suffered by lying flat on the mattress where his leg should’ve been.

A tear fell down his cheek and a sob escaped his lips. He leaned down, and pressed a wet, trembling kiss to Alex’s forehead. His skin was still cool and he still smelled like vanilla.

“I’m right here with you, baby,” he breathed against his skin. “Alex, I’m right here. I didn’t want to leave you alone, I’m sorry.”

His other hand reached down to hold Alex’s, but he stayed over him, pressing another kiss to each of his tired eyes, his cheek, his nose, his ear, his jaw. His lips hovered over Alex’s, eager to kiss him, but then –

“Mmh,” Alex stirred, his brows knit as his fingers twitched in Michael’s.

Michael let him go, stepping back. He swallowed, waiting anxiously for Alex to wake up, realize Michael was here, and ask him what the hell had brought him. Alex probably didn’t even remember him, didn’t care to see him, regretted ever having kissed him –

“Gue . . . rin,” Alex murmured in his sleep. “Guerin . . .”

Michael stared. Alex repeated his name in a whimper this time, his brows pinched tighter together as he stirred restlessly in bed. He was having a nightmare. He was having a nightmare, and he wanted Michael.

His breaths began to quicken, and Michael blinked out of his haze, closing the distance between them and taking Alex’s hand in his again, his hold tight. He smoothed Alex’s bangs out of the way and kissed his forehead again. “I’m right here, Alex,” he murmured. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’m right here.”

Slowly, Alex’s breathing calmed again and the tension in his body faded. His right leg lay still, and Michael couldn’t help but kiss him again. Maybe this would be okay, after all. Maybe Alex could wake up and see him, and Michael could promise that he would stay with him, take care of him. He’d promise that he loved him anyway.

Then a knock came and Michael straightened. The receptionist from downstairs came in with a clipboard in hand. She sighed, her expression genuinely apologetic. Michael didn’t care. Her news wasn’t good.

“Five minutes are up,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you have to go.”

“But –”

“His family is scheduled to arrive at any minute,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

Then reality hit. As much fun as hypotheticals were, as much as he wanted to believe he was Alex’s family . . . he just wasn’t. He and Alex weren’t married, he hadn’t even spoken to Alex before he’d left all those years ago. They weren’t strangers, they could never be strangers, but who knew if Alex even wanted to come back to Roswell now that he was injured? Who knew if Michael was the one he wanted to see when he woke up and remembered he’d lost a limb?

His hand fell away from Alex’s and he stepped back, his eyes on the airman. This couldn’t be the last time he ever saw him. He wouldn’t let it be. He just wished he could look away now.

Alex had gone still again, sleeping soundly, and Michael finally tore his gaze from him and made it to the door before the nurse softly asked, “Who should I tell him came to see him?”

Michael looked at Alex, sleeping and unaware that the mess of a cowboy he’d once loved had come running. That Michael had loved him enough to come.

His eyes burned, but before anyone could see the tears, he shook his head and said, his voice hoarse, “Nobody. Tell him nobody came.”

And without another word or glance, with the intention to destroy the computer that he’d used to keep track of Alex all these years the second he got back, Michael left the hospital, left DC, left Alex.

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Curves...

Requested by: @prettysourabbie

Can I request a Dean Winchester x plus size reader, where she really shy and dorky but believes that she really bad at sex because she is bigger? And dean shows her that she not 😊💕 I hope this makes sense haha! I know this sound awkward turtle 🐢

Word Count: 4036

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: Smut!, unprotected sex, insecure reader, self-hate, plus-sized reader, unrequited/requited love, angst, self-loathing, fluff.

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you guys enjoy this one.

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

*****MASTERLIST*****

Sitting alone in the cold and mostly dark library of the bunker, you waited for the return of your two favorite boys.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

You’d been working as the researcher for the Winchesters, and well most other hunters in the area, for years.

You were raised in the life, but you weren’t ever like your average hunter. You weren’t skinny, or athletic, with perfect aim, perfect stamina that it takes to chase down and kill all that shit that goes bump in the night. Much to your father’s dismay, you were always a little on the heavier side.

It’s not like all you did was sit on your ass, and eat or something either, it’s just how you were built, you couldn’t control it, no matter how much you exercised, ran, ate all that healthy crap; it did no good. You always maintained the same weight.

Which was… Well… Let’s face it…

Not exactly the standards of The Next Top Model.

Your stomach wasn’t flat and perfect, your hips were on the wider side, your thighs thicker than your average girl. You weren’t exactly small chested. You were just naturally larger than your average person. Even though you barely tipped the scales at five feet tall.

Your dad said you’d never be good for anything if he couldn’t marry you off, because you were too heavy for “breeding,” which was common in hunting compounds like the one you grew up on, and you couldn’t hunt, then you were useless to him.

He’d left you at a bar just outside of Seattle, Washington. That’s where you meet your rescuer, and honestly, your favorite of your two favorite boys.

Dean.

He saw you sitting outside of the side of the bar crying because you didn’t know what you were going to do, he didn’t hesitate to take you in just like you were one of them when he’d heard your story, taking you to your new home, the bunker.

Instead of discouraging your skills in research, he embraced it.

Sam helped you get started in this overload of information that the men of letters had collected, your personal heaven honestly, and you’d been here ever since; doing what you could to help the boys behind a computer, a lore book, or a phone.

You were happy here with your life, mostly anyway. It suited you, and Dean always made sure you wanted for nothing. He would always go out of his way to take care of you, no matter what you needed or wanted.

It didn’t take you long to fall for the overly gorgeous elder Winchester.

His smile, his bright jade green eyes, that adorable shading of freckles that covered his skin, dusting even his nose, and checks; giving him almost a boyish look. His infectious laugh, his soft auburn hair, the way he cared more about others than he ever could himself.

You had learned to love everything about him, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even though there were parts of his past that were darker than he’d ever let anyone know. Even though there were things that had happened to him, that had affected him to the uttermost part of his being.

You loved him anyway.

Past all flaws, and beyond all reason.

Of course, you never told Dean that. Hell no. You’d never tell Dean any of that.

Dean liked girls that were supermodel types.

Bleach blonde, toned bodies, too much makeup, and cheap perfume. Easy lays basically.

You were none of that.

You didn’t have the confidence that those girls had, so you just never even tried with Dean. The two of you had a good relationship going, and you just be happy with that, and not do anything like confess your feelings to mess it all up.

The loud opening and closing of the bunker door pulled you from your self-loathing. You hurriedly straightened your glasses, fixed your messy bun, and checked to make sure your led zeppelin t-shirt, that you had borrowed from Dean and yet to have returned, had no stains on it.

You’d been researching some stuff for Garth on a strange case he was working on, probably a Djinn from the looks of it, and hadn’t really gotten yourself together today. You were still in your favorite PJ pants and fuzzy slippers.

"Hey Y/n,” Sam greeted you as he flopped down in the chair across from you, taking his boots off.

“Hey, where is Dean?” you asked him, listening for, but not hearing the elder Winchester anywhere.

“Dean, uh... Went out. Said he needed to blow off some steam. It was a pretty rough hunt for him... I’m sorry Y/n, I know you hate it when he goes out and does this…” Sam said, letting his sentence trail off before finishing it.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, nod your head, reopening your laptop, burying yourself in your work.

You couldn’t look up at Sam, who you knew was staring at you with some pitiful look, and you didn’t want his pity. You knew your place, and Dean’s arms, even though you wanted to more than anything, would never be your place.

Sam was no idiot, he knew you had feelings for his brother. He just didn’t know what to say to make it better for you right now.

So he got to his feet, patted you on the shoulder, and then made his way to his room for the night.

You worked through the tears streaming down your face when he was out of sight until your eyes burned too bad to keep working, and your head hurt from crying. So you made your way to your room, and crawled into the bed, the cold lonely bed, and fell into a restless sleep. Your heart beating like it was going to just give up and stop any minute.

You laid there torturing yourself. Wondering what she looked like? Would she hold him when it was over? Would she be enough to comfort him the way he deserved? Would she play with his hair while he sleeps like you want to do? Would she realize how lucky she was to be in his arms? Cause some people, like yourself, would never get that chance.

—————————–

The next morning you made your way into the kitchen. Your head is still pounding, and your eyes are still red.

You were wondering if Dean had made it home yet, but you didn’t have to wonder very long.

As soon as you rounded the corner there he was, probably still in last night’s clothes, pouring a cup of coffee.

For a moment you faltered by the door, and started to just turn around, and go back to your room.

You didn’t know if you could face him right now, you knew you looked like a whole mess. Last night was harder on you with him going out than it was ever. Maybe it was because it had been so long since you’d seen him. Maybe it was because he had texted you the day before he headed back to Kansas, and promised a movie night when he got home. He must have needed to get laid more than he needed his friend.

You turned around to head back towards your room, but Dean had heard you. His hunter reflexes are faster than your feet.

Damn him.

“Hey, sweetheart! Want me to pour you a cup of coffee?” Dean said, looking at you over his shoulder, that smile that could stop your heart on his perfect pink lips, lips that some other woman was kissing last night. The signs of that visible with the deep purple hickey that was poking out just under the collar of his shirt.

You just nod, not trusting your voice.

Dean poured you a cup of coffee and fixed it the way you liked. You wondered how he knew that. You didn’t remember ever telling him how you liked your coffee, he just always seemed to know.

You made your way over to the table in the corner of the room, and Dean brought your cup of coffee and set it down in front of you.

“So, I was thinking tonight we would lock ourselves in the Dean cave, and do that Harry Potter marathon you’ve been talking about. I’ll order some pizzas and…Y/n, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

You cursed yourself for being so damn obvious this morning. You just shrug your shoulders, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Did some asshole hurt you? Tell me his name! I’ll kick his ass!"

You had to hold back a snicker at that because the mental image your mind painted of Dean kicking his own ass was quite amusing.

"No one’s hurt me, Dean, I’m fine,” you tell him, making to get up with your coffee cup, and just head back to your room.

“Bullshit Y/N, I’ve known you for years, we’re best friends. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He looked at you pleadingly, and you sighed deeply before looking down at your coffee cup.

“I just let myself get all in my head last night. I’m fine now. I’m just tired. I think I’m going to go and lay down for a little bit. We’ll do whatever you said you wanted to do tonight,” you said as Sam walked past you, giving you an apologetic look.

Sam was the kind of person who was not going to get in the middle of it, so he just continued to make his way to the refrigerator after his morning run.

“Are you sure you’re okay? ‘Cause you don’t look okay, Sweetheart. Maybe I could just come keep you company, and cuddle with you like we used to while you rest, or until you feel better.”

Dean made his way over to you while he was taking, and wrapped his arms around you.

As soon as he did you jerked back from him. He looked down at you confused and hurt, but he smelt like her perfume and it made your stomach lurch, bile rose in your throat at the thought of how it got there.

“No offense Dean, but you need a shower,” you said coldly and turned walking back to your room, leaving a very confused and hurt looking Dean, and a somewhat amused Sam.

Probably because he thought Dean deserved that.

You wanted nothing more than to cuddle with Dean, but you didn’t know if it wouldn’t totally rip your heart out, especially with him smelling so much like her.

—————————————–

After about two hours of you crying yourself to the point, you weren’t able to cry anymore in the darkness of your room, hating your weight, hating that you weren’t good enough, hating the fact that you had to wear glasses all the time, hating the fact that you were a nerd, and always were a nerd. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you had skipped breakfast this morning, but you didn’t want to run into the boys again, so you had just resolved to lay there when you hear your door open, and close softly.

You could smell Dean’s body wash as he made his way quietly as possible over to the side of your bed. Your back was to him, and the door, cover pulled high up to your chin, your hair pretty much blocking your face from his view.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” Dean whispered.

You didn’t move, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t really have time to before Dean pulled the cover back, and you felt the bed dip under his weight. Your heart rate jumped up through the roof as his scent surrounded you, and he pulled the covers back over himself and you.

“I showered…I… I don't smell like her anymore… I made Sam check to make sure,” he said, moving his way over closer to you in a spooning position, wrapping his arm around you gently, and pulling himself closer to you.

Your heart was beating so hard now you were sure he could feel it through your ribs, even with all your “extra padding” as you called it.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you say something to me before? I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t know. I would have much rather come home to you than run to some whore that literally meant nothing to me."

You made a mental note to kill Sam.

"Sam told you didn’t he,” you almost whispered, your stomach was in a knot at this point. What the fuck was he trying to tell you? You couldn’t do for him what he needed.

“Yeah, but in his defense, you left me standing there torn between hunting down whatever random dude that had hurt you that you weren’t telling me about, and trying to scrap my pride up off the floor,” Dean said.

It took all you had not to flinch at that. You shouldn't have snapped at Dean, but you couldn’t stand the smell of her either.

“I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have taken my feelings out on you. You have every right to have sex with whoever you want. She could probably do more for you than I ever could. I know you are not attracted to me. I’m not blind. You don’t have to come in here, and say all those things just to make me feel better,” you said, refusing to turn around and look at him.

You felt Dean sit up, and for a moment you thought he was going to get up and leave, shattering your heart even further.

Instead of getting up and leaving, Dean rolled you over to your back with more ease than you thought would have been possible, and straddle your hips with his thighs. Bracing his weight off of you with his hands on either side of your head. You stared into his piercing eyes for a moment in shock. He looked cross between hurt and angry.

“Let me tell you a little something about that whore that you said could do so much better than you for me. Yeah, I fucked her, I’m not even gonna try and deny it, but after she was done I got up and got dressed to go jerked myself off in the car because some whore isn’t gonna get all of me Sweetheart believe that. I’d give my damn right arm to have you, what the fuck do you mean I’m not attracted to you? Every time we’re watching TV together I’m fighting to hide my boner because I didn’t want to freak you out. I wouldn’t be in here with you right now if I didn’t want to be. Why the hell do you think so low of yourself?”

Dean was still hovering over you, so many emotions on his face that it was impossible to read them all.

“Dean, I’m fat. I’m no good at sex. I couldn’t get you off if I tried to. You still would have ended up having to go and finish yourself off. Very few men want to touch this, very few ever have.”

You tried to avoid his gaze out of your own shame. Hating yourself at that moment more than ever.

“What? Fat? Baby girl, you are NOT fat. You're gorgeous,” Dean said as he reached and grabbed your wrist, bringing your hand down to his crotch, and resting it over the impressive bulge that had formed his sweats.

You did vaguely register that he’d skipped the underwear.

He felt huge, and you couldn’t stop your eyes widening.

You always figured that Dean was packing, but damn.

“Does that feel like someone who isn’t attracted to you? Baby, I can’t tell you the nights I’ve thought about you just to get off. About kissing every curve, every inch of skin,” his hands let go of your wrist as he trailed them down your sides, and over your up to your breast, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at his light touch.

“Dean,” you said cautiously, his hand slipping under your shirt, fingers trailing lightly over your stomach, the part of your body that you hated the most.

“Let me show you just how beautiful you are, Sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky and deep. His tongue running slowly over his lower lip as his eyes roamed your body. “Let me show you just how much I’ve always wanted you since the night I met you.”

You laid there underneath him completely dumbfounded for a moment. Finally, all you could do was shake your head yes.

If you were dumb enough to turn him down now, you would lose him, and your heart couldn’t handle it, it would crush you. So here you were, going to take a chance, and do what you so desperately wanted to do for so long.

Let Dean love you.

Dean didn’t hesitate, reaching down grabbing your shirt and pulling it off and over your head, throwing it to the floor. His eyes rack over your body, looking down at your bare chest, you immediately try to cover up, regretting not putting a bra on this morning.

“No, no, pretty girl, don’t hide from me,” Dean said, bending down, and capturing your lips in his with a sweet kiss, slowly kissing away some of the worries, and insecurity.

Moving his hands down your body he pulled the waistband of your PJs and underwear down your body in one pull, leaving you completely exposed before him. Keeping your mouth busy as his tongue invaded your mouth, kissing you drunk, exploring every inch of your mouth like he’d never get to do it again.

When he finally had to pull up for air you noticed that his sweats were gone. His thick length standing proudly against his shirt, and slapping his stomach as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor.

You didn’t have time to get nervous before his mouth was on you again, kissing you deeply, needier than the first time.

Making his way from your mouth to your throat he sucked his mark onto your neck, one that you’d wear proudly, one you’ve wanted for so long.

He continued kissing his way down your body, licking at each nipple before sucking them into his mouth, sending a sensation you’d never felt before jolting through your body. Your back arching to meet his hard chest. Little moans fell from your lips as his mouth continued the assault on your hard nipples.

Satisfied with his work, he began to move down your stomach. Kissing and nipping at the skin there, worshiping your body like no one ever had, kissing your hips, your tights.

That’s when it hit you where he was.

“Dean, don’t!” you said, right before his mouth made contact with your already dripping core.

Dean stopped immediately, moving back up your body, placing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss, slower this time than before.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not there yet. Not tonight,” you said as he pulled away to look at you, your embarrassment filling your checks.

“That’s okay Baby, we’ve got all the time in the world. If you want to stop we can stop,” he said, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I don’t want to stop, I’m just not ready for that specifically. It’s gonna take time,” you said, he nodded his head, kissing your neck and running his tongue along the shall of your ear.

“That’s okay baby girl, I’m not going to stop loving you, and eventually, I’m going to make you forget all that insecurity you’ve got built up inside. Even if it takes years. I’m a patient man,” Dean said, slipping his fingers down your body, and finding your swollen clit with his thumb as he pushed two tick digits deep side of you, working you slowly, your hips rolling against his hand on their own as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that stop no one has been able to reach before.

He didn’t stop playing your body like a well-tuned instrument until you were coming undone around him, and your walls squeezing his fingers as your orgasm ripped through your body, leaving you a panting shaking mess underneath him as he worked you through your high.

Peppering your face with little kisses he let you come down completely before lining himself up with you, sinking deep inside of you in one smooth thrust. Stretching you, filling you in every way. His thick tip is sitting against your cervix. You could almost feel him pulsing inside of you.

“Fuck, your so tight baby girl,” he husks in your ear, kissing your lips in a tender kiss before grabbing your hips, and rolling you over on top of him like you weighed nothing at all. A surprised squeak leaving your lips.

“Dean, no I’m going to hurt you,” you said, feeling silly, and embarrassed as you sat astraddle of his hips, his cock buried deep inside of you.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Baby. I want you to know just how capable you are of taking care of me, please,” he said, reaching up and kissing the skin of your stomach before grabbing your hips, and rocking your hips with his strong hands.

All thought processes flew right out the window at that point.

His tip moves over your most sensitive spots in the most amazing, almost overwhelming to the point of painful, but still pleasurable way, your clit dragging over his hilt with each drag of your hips. Soon you were rocking back and forth against him on our own without any assistance whatsoever. Your bodies molded together like they were meant to be.

Dean’s head was thrown back against the pillow, the veins in his neck visible, and his jaw tightly locked.

He was beautiful.

Completely lost in what your body was doing for him.

Something you never knew was possible, never thought you would ever see, or experience first hand. Just something they wrote about in cheesy romance novels, and fanfiction.

Before long you right at the edge your body shaking on top of him. The sounds and noises that were falling from both of your lips were enough to make a porn star blush. Dean's grip on your hips was now strong enough that you were sure it would leave bruises. You didn’t care though. You let him hold onto you as he fucked himself up into you as you rode him, closer and closer to both of your ends.

Dean cursed he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down close to him as he slammed himself up into you and stilled. Spilling himself deep inside of you. His seed coating your walls in warm streams, throwing you into your own end. Waves of pleasure rolling over you both as he slowly thrust into you, dragging out both of your highs.

When both of you had control of your bodies again, Dean rolled you both over to your side, his arms never leaving you. He peppered your face and neck with little opened mouth kisses as he slowly pulled out of your body, and you couldn’t help but whine a little at the loss of contact.

Dean’s lips found yours in a sweet, but searing kiss as his hands started to trace the curves of your body, while still holding onto you tightly. Not breaking the kiss until the need for oxygen became to grate.

“I love you y/n, I have since the moment I met, and I know I’m not much, and I don’t have anything to offer you, the life we live… It’s just not your white picket fence life, but all I have is yours if you will have me. You know how hard it is for me to admit my feelings, but sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in all of my life.”

A single tear that made its way down your cheek. One that Dean caught, and wiped away with the gentle movement of his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you too, I’m yours, I always have been, always will be.”

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

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchster x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #plus sized!reader #dean x plus sized reader #SPN fanfiction #SPN Fanfic #SPN #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester drabble #fanfiction #spn smut #smut one shot #jensen ackles #jawritter

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farfromparker · 4 years

Text

It’s Just a Game

Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Based on this blurb.

Warnings: Sexual themes but nothing explicit

A/N: I’m so angry y’all. I don’t have my computer so i’m trying to update this on an iPad and somehow the first post was deleted????? So sorry for anyone that was tagged the first time around. I hate technology :(

Word Count: 2.3k

“What are you doing tonight?” Haz asks, spread out on the couch. “Why are we barred from the house until tomorrow morning?”

“Y/n is coming over and I haven’t seen her since I left for filming and we wanna catch up.” Tom answers simply, studying the fridge. Definitely going to need to buy more beer for tonight.

“Uh huh.” Harry says from the armchair, nose in his phone. He glances up at Haz and winks. Haz returns it with a knowing smile. “You finally gonna tell her how you feel?”

That stops Tom, his brows bunch as he looks out from the kitchen at the two of them, “What?”

Harry sighs and puts his phone down, twisting in his chair so he can look Tom square in the eyes, “I know you’re really thick but we’re not stupid. You guys have been in love with each other for years.”

Harrison is nodding from the couch. “But see, the question is how’s he gonna do?”

Harry turns to Haz, “Oh yeah, good question. We both know this div can’t actually work up the guts to tell her flat out.”

Tom tries to interrupt, “I’m not - we don’t -“ it’s no use.

“Well step one is alcohol.” Harrison continues.

“And we know Tom will have that covered.”

“Alright so a drinking game... truth or dare?”

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, way too obvious.”

“Okay um” Harrison rubs his fingers across his chin. Tom chucks a water bottle at his head but Harrison catches it easily. “Oh I know!” He shouts suddenly, grabbing his phone.

Harry gets up from the chair and sits next to Harrison. He watches Haz type away on his phone and Tom sees the glint in their eyes.

“Oh that’s fucking perfect!” Harry exclaims. And alright, Tom has to know now.

“What?” He asks, walking out into the living room and Harry and Haz share a look again. “Will you fuckers stop looking at each other like that?”

Harrison laughs and shows Tom his phone. He’s on YouTube and the video is titled Rock Paper Scissors Hickey. He watches for a minute. It’s the rules of the game everyone knows but the loser is subject to the winner giving them a hickey. Tom’s skin prickles.

“Fuck off,” he bats the phone away. “And get out of my house.”

“Testy,” Harrison says. But they don’t argue, they had agreed to give Tom the whole house for the night and they have a feeling they might have finally pushed Tom to the truth.

“He’s just needs to get laid.” Harry remarks, opening the front door.

“Well luckily y/n is on her way over.”

Tom darts to the front door quickly and they dash out, laughing. He slams the door, harder than necessary but honestly, fuck those two.

***

He comes back from the store with definitely more beer than the two of you need but Tom couldn’t decide on which beer he wanted (so he got both) and he knew of at least three different types that you loved (but he didn’t know which one struck your mood) so he got all of them.

It’s already getting dark when he makes the second trip inside. You won’t be here for another hour so he busies himself around the house. And as much as he hates to admit it, he can’t stop thinking about that video. And about what Harry and Harrison think. He wasn’t in love with you. And you definitely weren’t in love with him. You were best friends. And sure you had shared a bed too many times to count. And maybe, occasionally he dreamt about you. And of course he missed you while he was away. And sure he talked to you in some fashion every day... but that didn’t mean... he wasn’t... and you weren’t...

There’s a knock on the door that startles him out of his thoughts. A smile cracks his face so large his cheeks hurt as he opens the door.

“Hey,” you barely get the word out before he’s engulfed you in hug. You smell like lavender and your arms wrap tightly around his waist.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper in the crook of his neck and he’s nodding.

“Me too, so much.”

He welcomes you inside and you kick off your shoes. He gets you a drink, and you make fun of the fact that he has three different options for you. He shrugs it off and starts talking; about filming, about Cleveland, and you’re so proud. You know how hard he worked, how much time and effort he put into Cherry. You can see how satisfied he is with it, how excited he is for it to come out.

“I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” You smile, putting a hand on his thigh and squeezing. Your touch feels different, there’s a swoop in his stomach and he takes a drink of his beer to try and mask it.

“Enough about me, how are you doing? Tell me about work.”

That takes you both down a rabbit hole. What’s changed since he’s been gone, the gossip from your office. Tessa is a distraction on more than one occasion and before you know it you’re cracking into a new case of beer.

Tom doesn’t know how many drinks he’s had now. He knows the garbage clangs loudly when he throws another bottle in it though. He also knows he’s been paying more attention to your lips, to your fingers. His skin is hotter where you to touch him.

And. That. Stupid. Game.

You’ve just grabbed a new beer, settling down in your spot on the couch next to him when he finally mentions it. He’s losing his filter and it’s all he can think about.

You snort, “What?”

He shrugs, taking a swig, “I don’t know, H showed it to me.”

You’re more than skeptical but also a little drunk, “There’s no way rock paper scissors hickey is a real thing.”

“Course it is, I saw it on the internet, and everything on the internet is true so,” he shrugs, smirking at you.

You bite your lip before taking a long swig of your drink to try and drown the butterflies that have erupted in your stomach. This feels a bit like a dare though, and you can’t let Tom hang this over your head if you say no so, “Alright Holland, you’re on.”

Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

He’s rock, you’re paper, you smile triumphantly.

“I’m nothing if not a gentlemen, so ladies first.” He says, moving closer to you, tilting his head up and offering you his neck. You turn towards him and lean in but you can’t stop laughing against his skin. You’ve always been a bubbly drunk but this is something else. Quickly, you press your lips to his neck, running your tongue along the flesh for a moment before pulling away.

He’s shaking his head, “No, there’s no way that’s gonna leave a mark. You gotta do better, I expected better. C’mon you can’t -”

You bite down, maybe a little harder than you had planned, but you had to shut him up. You feel the muscles in his neck flex. He sucks in a sharp intake of breath and bites his lip because he can’t make a noise this early in the game.

After what feels simultaneously like seconds and hours, you pull away, studying the mark. You bring your hand up, pushing a finger into the skin around it and he hisses.

“That’ll definitely bruise.” You say, confidently, happily.

He clears his throat, “Good, that’s the point. Ready for the next round?”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you?”

He rolls his eyes and puts out a fist. Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

He goes for scissors this time, you land on rock. A small laugh leaves your lips, “Opposite side this time?”

He licks his lips and nods, exposing the left side of his neck. You’re not as hesitant this time, placing a hand on his thigh as you lean in. Your lips meet his skin and you open your mouth, licking and sucking. His hand comes to rest on top of yours, fingers twitching when he feels your teeth drag against his flesh.

You pull away and admire your work. Eyes flashing to the other side of his neck to see the first mark. It’s darker now, starting to turn purple and a wave of possessiveness washes over you. You did that. Your mouth and tongue and teeth left a mark like that on Tom’s neck.

“Alright, next round.” You say, voice sounding foreign to your own ears, rougher than you had expected.

Rock. Paper. Scissors. Shoot.

He goes back to rock. And you land on paper. He clears his throat and grabs his beer. You take a second to look at him, really look at him. There’s a blush sitting on his cheeks and you know it’s not from the alcohol. He puts his drink down and locks eyes with you. His lips are shiny.

“You’ve rigged this somehow.” He says steadily.

You smirk, comfortable and satisfied, feeling in complete control. He’s got matching marks on each side of his neck so it only makes sense to go lower this time, settling on a spot at the base of his neck, close to his collarbone.

You lean in and you can hear his uneven breathing. He gets fidgety as you suck the skin into your mouth, fingers twitching in his lap. It’s your teeth that finally pull a moan from his mouth and you don’t stop, driven on by the sound. You rest a hand on his hip, the other coming to wrap around the base of his neck, holding him in place and steadying yourself. You feel him flex up into your touch.

It happens like a choreographed dance move. His hands move to the underside of your thighs to pull you into him. He doesn’t have to do any convincing though because you’re already moving, pressing yourself closer to him and into his lap. You hold your weight up on your knees, nervous about settling fully into his lap.

The proportions are off from this position and you have to move away from his collarbone towards his jawline. His cologne is heavier here, permeating your senses and you’re not drunk off just the alcohol anymore. You drag your teeth against his skin and he swears, grip tightening on you.

Slowly, you pull away. Feeling like everything is heightened; the sound of his breathing in a room that’s too quiet. You’ve been this close to him a million times before but you study each freckle now, like you’re seeing them for the first time, a beautiful constellation painted across his face. You glance into his eyes and they pull you in, deep brown, like melting chocolate and you feel warm all over. You raise a hand to cup his cheek, his eyelids flutter at your touch, leaning into you as you brush your thumb gently against his skin.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” you whisper, “I choose rock.”

“Paper,” he whispers back, glancing into your eyes before leaning in. You gasp when you feel his mouth on you, hands coming up to rub through his short hair. He moans softly, you can feel the vibrations against your neck but the way he’s kissing and licking you doesn’t increase in urgency. He’s taking his time, tasting you, feeling you against his tongue and you can’t control the shivers running down your spine. He’s got a hand under your butt, the other splayed across your back, holding you firmly yet delicately.

When he stops, you can hear the question in his movements. He raises his head slowly and your eyes slide shut, the affirmation he was asking for. His lips find yours and the world stops spinning. It’s soft and gentle, emotions pouring out from the both of you and that warmth spreads further, settling in your chest like the final puzzle piece has been placed.

***

Hushed whispers pull you from sleep, loud enough to be heard over the lull of the fan. Slowly, you open your eyes and reorientate yourself with your surroundings. The sun light is streaming in softly through the curtains, painting the room a delicate yellow. Tom is sleeping comfortably next you. You can feel the weight of his arm thrown over your stomach and you smile to yourself as you relive last night. Every touch and kiss, every moan and sigh.

Absentmindedly, you had been running your fingers lightly across his arm and he smiles. His fingers tighten on your waist and you glance at him, smiling back.

“Morning, love.” He says, voice laced with sleep and he pulls you in closer, skin against skin.

“Morning, handsome,” you return, kissing his lips softly.

More whispering.

He opens his mouth as if to say something but shuts it quickly, glancing towards his bedroom door. He looks back at you and smirks, untangling himself from the sheets and standing. You bite your lip as he bends over to grab some boxers, admiring his ass. He glances back at you and winks.

He throws you a shirt of his and a pair of boxers. You dress quickly as the whispering continues. He walks towards the door and looks back at you, making sure you’re decent. When he’s satisfied, he opens the door quickly.

Harry and Harrison practically trip over each other, startled by the door opening and Tom crosses his arms over his bare chest. Harrison studies him for second, counting the purple bruises littering Tom’s body, even sees one poking out from under the band of Tom’s boxers. He nods as if in approval, impressed, and pokes his head around the wall so he can look at you directly.

“I see you liked the game, y/n.”

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added!

@xximaweirdoxx @selfcarecapmain @billythebully09 @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @honeymarvel @billieishottttttttt @lovinnholland @oh-annaa @little-miss-naill @holland-in-disguise @wordless08 @multifandomgirl-us @tiktok-spideyy @fangirlfree

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #my writing

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pixelatedrose · 4 years

Text

Soulbound part Six

First | Previous | Part 6 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 2,651

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: uncensored swearing, unsympathetic Deceit, one small mention of being shot (metaphorically), if i missed anything please please tell me and if there's something in particular you want me to tag, don't be afraid to let me know!!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 6

It was five minutes till the bell and 15 minutes ago Roman had given up on hoping Mr. Sanders and Virgil would come back. For all he knew they could be through a magical portal and would come back a day later and twice their ages and having gone incredible life changing journeys and Virgil would have realized too late that he wanted to be Roman's bestest friend in the entire world.

Of course if that happened Roman would be pissed cause they went on a magical journey without him!!!

"SORRY CLASS!!" Mr. Sanders announced loudly, bursting in through the door dramatically. Roman, who had been standing near the door, jumped nearly 5 feet in the air and suppressed a shriek, having it come out as a scream instead. Not much better.

The class laughed softly and from behind the teacher, Roman saw Virgil.

And what a sight he was.

His eyes were tear streaked and red, but his eyes danced with joy as he held back a laugh. It was like witnessing raining stars, if you know what that is; when the sun shines on falling hail, it looks like sparkling stars streaking from the heavens.

There were still the remnants of tears caught in his lashes and just the tip of his nose was red, matching his cheeks. And somehow, it was only then that Roman noticed his freckles, unmasked by tears and a lack of concealer.

He was beautiful.

And once again Roman got caught up in the moment and had forgotten where he was and what had happened.

Virgil seemed to have caught Roman's staring and threw his hood over his head, obscuring his eyes, however failing to hide his shy smile that he thought he was so cleverly masking.

"Well! Sorry about that but it's all over now and I would sincerely appreciate it if you didn't mention this to people!" Mr. Sanders finally said when the class settled down.

Rose raised her hand. "I'll be happy to keep my mouth shut, but what happened exactly?"

Mr. Sanders hesitated and Roman saw Virgil, who was still behind in the hall, stiffen up and all joy flicker off his face, his eyes shimmering with an uncomfortable glaze.

Roman's emotions sizzled softly under his skin and he was about to turn on his friend when Mr. Sanders beat him to it in a much kinder tone.

"That's something that I think can stay between me and my brother. Sorry, Rose."

Had Roman been drinking anything it would be long sprayed over the rest of the class.

Virgil and Mr. Sanders are brothers?! I mean I sort of knew they had the same last name, but I mean so does Bernie Sanders but they're not related!!!

Roman opened his mouth to voice his disbelief, not catching the horrified look on a small emo boy's face. "Wai-"

Ding!! Ding!! Ding!!

Damn that bell.

"Alright class! That's it for today and don't forget that the syllabus needs to be signed by Monday!!" Mr. Sanders called to his students who were shuffling around the room now, grabbing their books and bags and slowly filing out of the room.

And swept up in the crowd, Roman lost sight of a purple haired boy with pale skin and pretty blue eyes.

Roman cursed under his breath but halfway back home he silently blessed that the universe swept the small boy away from him. Virgil had obviously had a trying day. He didn't need a near stranger nagging him for information on his personal life after such a day.

~~•~~

Virgil could have melted into the ground then and there when Thomas had announced to the whole class that they were brothers. Luckily the bell saved him and before Roman inevitably came looking for him (he had every other time of the day) Virgil slipped into the crowd and disintegrated his presence.

He slipped into a side hall and watched Roman pass him by, a look of hot disappointment tracing his features.

It stung a little to watch, but Virgil could deal with a tinge of regret for a few seconds if it meant he could escape the drama of the day for a breath or two.

After everyone was out of sight he turned around and went back into the classroom.

"There you are!" Thomas said happily. "I thought you'd ended up running home. Which would have been fine I mean, it's your choice after all." He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish and sloppy grin plastered on his face awkwardly.

Virgil nodded. "Yeah it's fine. I want to talk to you about the letters anyway." Sudden realization dawned Virgil's mind and he frantically ran a hand through his hair. "Oh god of course I overlooked things!!"

"Hey, is everything okay, Virgil?"

"Yeah...I mean no! I mean- ugh!!" Virgil threw his hood over his head once again. "Mom will freak out if she doesn't know where I am…" He looked up at Thomas who had disappointment glazing his eyes. Virgil tried to correct himself. "Oh!! No no, no I'll just tell her I'm at a friend's house!!" He nodded to himself. "Yeah that will work!"

Thomas looked at him. "Alright, I'll be in my office cleaning stuff up and then we can go if you're absolutely sure."

Virgil nodded and pulled out his phone. He opened the messaging app and clicked on his mother's profile picture. He never did like calling people. Even his mom. He'd rather send a text and plan out what he's going to say rather than be put on the spot.

He typed out a quick message and pressed send. Two seconds later Virgil's phone lit up with the call menu. Mom was written across the top and his mother's smiling face was flashing at him.

Dammit, mom! Don't you know that texting is easier?!

He answered the phone bringing the violent buzzing to a stop.

"Hheeeyyyy mom!" Virgil said awkwardly. Not that his mother noticed apparently.

"Virgey, honey! Tell me what is it that you're doing?" She sounded genuinely confused and Virgil had to hold himself back from facepalming.

"Mom, I sent you a text…"

"Oh I know, baby, it's just that mummy would rather hear it from you and not some computer thing."

"Mom it's literally the same thing."

"Oh it is? Oh...Well I wanted to hear your voice anyway!"

Virgil rubbed the bridge of his nose before returning to the phone. "It's fine mom! I just wanted to go and hang out and study at a friend's house. That's all."

There was a pause on the line and Virgil knew he'd met his doom. Of course she wasn't going to let him!! He should have just walked straight home and not looked back, he should have-

"Oh honey!! You've already made friends?!"

It was like being shot through the skull. Virgil you idiot you don't have any friends. How can you go over to a friend's house if the friends don't fucking exist.

"Yep!! I've already made a friend!" Virgil lied through his teeth, sweating bullets.

"Aww!! My baby's growing up and making friends!! What's their name? What are you studying?? Who are they???"

Shit, shit, shit, fuck, uhhhh….. Virgil thought desperately of someone he could use as a friend. And before he had completed the thought in his mind, his mouth started forming words.

"Roman Prince." Virgil said confidently.

Wait fuck no-

"Oh that's lovely! Well you have fun with your new friend darling dear!! I'm expecting you home by 5:30 for dinner!!" His mother squealed, the way she half sighed half giggled the word 'Friend' sending warm shivers across his cheeks. He knew he didn't have any friends but it wasn't something to swoon over!! Virgil heard the call end and he was left with a hot, embarrassed blush across his face and his mouth open like he was ready to catch something in it.

"She was overly excited and way too quick to accept it wasn't she?" Thomas asked, coming out of his office with a shoulder bag.

Virgil shook himself back to the present and nodded his head. "Yeah…"

"Yep she's like that. Doesn't care where you are but cares way too much about what you're doing. She'll probably try and read any journals you keep tonight. Either that or she won't leave you alone during dinner."

"She was like that when you were a kid too?"

"Oh yeah. Deva doesn't seem to have changed much, if I'm being honest. And it's only more clear now why dad left her…"

"Oh...She's...She's not that bad, is she?"

"I mean in my opinion yes. But I can't force you to think things."

"Right…"

Virgil arrived at Thomas's place after a car ride full of belting out Disney songs as loud as possible and talking about the darker meanings behind each movie, and Virgil just felt that much more comfortable around his brother.

"And welcome to my humble abode, brother Virgil!" Thomas said theatrically.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "I see why you're the theater teacher, now."

Thomas smiled before cupping his hands around his mouth. "GUSS-GUSS, JAQ, I'M HOME!!"

"You have roommates?"

"Yeah but they don't pay rent. And they're a mess to clean up after."

"That doesn't sound like they're good roomies…"

"Oh they make up for it by being cute."

Thomas walked up the stairs waving Virgil to follow. He rounded into a room that was sure to be his and flicked on the lights, strutting over to a cage on the far wall.

Virgil took the time to drink in the room and Thomas' s house. It was nice, and it smelled more like home than "home" ever did to Virgil.

Thomas returned holding two fluffy objects in his hands. "This is Guss-Guss and Jaq!" He said bubbly. He held out his hands which were clasped warmly and safely around two mice. "Like I said, they make up for not paying rent by being cute!"

If Virgil didn't have pride he would have cooed and melted at the sight of the puffballs. "Can I…?" He gestured in an odd way that somehow got his point across.

"Yes! Yes you can hold them!" Thomas was delighted.

He handed Virgil the two soft rodents and Virgil squeaked in delight, reminiscent of the mice themselves.

~~•~~

An hour later, after eating leftover cake, watching Thomas try (and fail) to slide down his banister majestically, and talking about emo bands they were (or are in Virgil's case) into, Virgil and Thomas sat on the couch in the living room, Virgil absently feeding Guss-Guss little bits of coconut shavings.

"So," Thomas began, Jaq falling asleep in his shirt pocket. "You wanted to talk about the letters? What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't really know…" Virgil confessed. "I guess I just wanted to talk about them to get to know you better, but I don't know...I already feel like I know you." Virgil paused to pick up the mouse in his lap and delicately placed him on his shoulder. "The other thing was that I wanted to answer all the questions you asked me. But it feels silly just listing them off myself, so-"

"What's your favorite color?" Thomas interrupted Virgil, a faint and warm smile on his face.

"What?"

"What's your favorite color? It was one of the first questions I asked in a letter I think." Thomas's words were soft but his eyes were beaming, as if he was the most clever person ever. "So. What's your favorite color?"

Virgil smiled widely. "Purple!"

Two hours later Virgil was being dropped off. He had talked the entire time about things they did, stories Thomas had missed out on, and Virgil's interests. It so happened that Thomas shared a lot of them. They almost got caught up talking about Avatar the last airbender for nearly half an hour towards the end of their talk, and still had a million things they wanted to know.

"Hey drop me off here!" Virgil asked.

"Why? Your house is still a block away."

"I know, but I don't want mom to know I was with you."

"Ah. That makes a little more sense." Thomas pulled over and let Virgil out of the car.

Virgil did a double take before running up to the drivers side window and reaching through, giving his older brother the best hug he could from where he was.

"Thanks, Thomas. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow, Virge!!" Thomas called out to the purple haired boy.

Virge… Virgil had never actually been called Virge before. His mother always ended it with a cutesie "y" at the end, making him feel like a toddler.

He found that he enjoyed the way Virge sounded.

It suited him.

He liked it.

~~•~~

A boy called Deceit sat in his room thinking. He wanted to get the purple haired boy to be his new puppet friend victim. He stood up and crossed his room, fishing a clean notebook out of an all too messy desk, in the process disturbing the bracelets on his wrist causing a hint of a tattoo to catch the light.

The boy called Deceit panicked and dropped the notebook, slapping a hand down around his wrist. He took a few calming breaths and adjusted his bracelets again. He picked up his notebook and began writing everything he knew about the purple haired boy down.

He's reserved.

But not afraid to talk back.

He's been through shit and I'll put him through hell.

He seems fairly depressed and easy to manipulate.

Use that against him.

Or don't.

He's drawn to Roman Prince. That's a problem. I can probably fix that with time.

He's the new drama teacher's little brother. And at least I'm not an idiot like the rest of this dull lot and I know who the new teach is.

I can use that too.

A short boy who was called Deceit thought back to Roman Prince and how he was tied up in all of this when a grand idea struck him as he scribbled out what he had previously written about the semi-popular boy.

Oh I can use that.

Oh now this will be a fun game to play!!

~~•~~

Patton got home from school that day, a little sad that he wasn't able to walk home with Logan that day. His boyfriend had said that he wanted to start going to Chess Club as soon as possible and heaven knows that Chess Club is B O R I N G.

It had been a particularly odd day for Patton, emotions-wise. He had a slight prickle of dread in him for the first half, followed by tiny warm fuzzies that didn't last too long. That was replaced by more dread bubbles that burst into full blown betrayal and regret by the time 6th period was rolling around.

It had evened out though, Patton felt unusually happy and content for the rest of the day. It had been a weird few days, but it wasn't something he could help.

Hormones, amiright?

Patton flopped down onto his bed and sighed happily. It had been a long while since he had been this blissfully content with his life. He glanced over at his fishtank- He was allergic to cats and his parents wouldn't let him have a dog no matter how much he begged, so he settled for fish.

Fish and dogs were basically the same thing, right? I mean there was such a thing as a catfish so dogfishes must also exist.

Patton giggled happily to himself as he imagined a fish on a leash, floppy little dog ears sprouting from its scaly head.

Something felt right.

Something felt calm.

It felt like there were going to be good days ahead.

And Patton couldn't wait to greet them.

Authors notes:

So uh yeah good news. This chapter WASN'T late!! In fact it's EARLY!! Yeah so i got hit with some mad insomnia last night and ended up writing a whole bunch. It's not a long chapter, but i think it's a good break from all the angst. Don't get too comfy though~

Anyway, love you all and stay fresh and minty my shiny folks!! 💛

TAG LIST

@anxietea-and-insanitea @ghostboi-bambi @scrunchiescrunchie @badluckkaren @ambrechandra @nadja-chamack16 @athenashipsthings @slitherynchiken @crooked-harmony-student @icequeenoriginal @just-a-hufflepuff @nerd-in-space @sammys-ghostz @nutsanddults

#logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #thomas sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #ts sides #sanders sides #logicality #prinxiety #highschool au #soulmate au #Soulbound Au #sanders sides fic #ts sides fic

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fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Note

(Master of Emotion) Can you write a day off for ninjas and Nya (add both Pixal and Skylor) after hard work and it can help the ninja get to know each other better,especially Kai ( maybe spa day)?

Sorry this took so long, I wrote much more than I expected.

((I’m gonna place this after s7, bc I haven’t seen the end of the whole Oni thing. So I can’t put Pixal here like requested, sorry about that))

(((Watch me spend thirty minutes doing research so I can put in a minor character that’s technically canon.)))

Kai rolls his eyes as Jay starts complaining again. “I really don’t wanna go to the spa, I’m so close to finishing this invention-“

Cole shoves him playfully. “We’re already here, Sparky. I’m not exactly fond of the idea either, but I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“Skylor should be meeting us here...” Nya mutters, looking at her phone, starting to type something- likely a text message.

The six of them stand outside the Ninjago City Spa, and Kai feels himself internally dreading seeing Skylor. He had flirted with her in the past, but they never really went official- how could they have? Kai had realized he was in love with someone else, and now they haven’t really found closure from their kinda-relationship.

“Is everything alright?” Zane prompts, speaking in a low tone to avoid drawing more attention to them.

Kai internally groans as he realizes his clothes turned purple. Great.

“Everything’s fine.” He bites out. His clothes have started to shift more towards magenta, which is only a slight relief- it’s still obvious he’s worked up over something.

“Skylor!” Lloyd greets. He waves as the crimson-haired girl walks up. “Glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all!” Kai doesn’t miss how she’s looking at him when she speaks, and he internally complains about everything as he realizes his clothes are turning a darker shade of purple.

The others have started to notice the color change, and he can tell that Lloyd’s about to ask, so he speaks up first. “Let’s do this! Spa day!” He flashes a smile that probably would’ve been convincing if his actual emotions weren’t plastered all over him.

… sometimes Kai hates his powers.

Without waiting for someone to call him out on his bullshit, he heads into the spa, walking up to the reception desk.

The woman behind it stares, wide-eyed as she recognizes him. Which Kai probably should’ve been expecting, they all are pretty famous.

He flashes a charming grin. “Hi, I’ve got a reservation for…” He trails off, frowning. Glancing back at the others, who have now stepped inside, he gives a nervous laugh. “Who was the reservation under again?”

Zane walks up to the counter, and Kai internally curses, backing away. Of course it’s Zane. Of course it is.

He doesn’t have the mental energy to deal with his stupid emotions. Warily, he looks down at his outfit to make sure it’s not pink.

Oh, thank the First Spinjitzu Master. He knows that he’ll have to tell him eventually, but today is not that day.

“The reservation should be under Lloyd Garmadon.” The nindroid explains to the receptionist.

Still clearly in shock, the woman- er, Cathy, as her name tag says- types something into the computer.

“Uh, yes, you seven can sit down in the waiting room, you’ll be taken back shortly.” Cathy informs them.

“Thank you.” Zane smiles.

So they all go back to the waiting room, and Kai makes sure to sit as far away from Skylor as possible.

And since he was so focused on being away from Skylor, he completely missed who he was actually sitting next to: Zane.

Look, it’s not that he’s avoiding him or anything, he’s just… uh…

Yeah, okay, he’s avoiding him.

Quiet conversations start, the ninja all chatting with each other, and much to Kai’s chagrin, Zane tries to speak with him again.

“Are you sure everything is alright? You seem very tens-“

“I said I’m fine, okay?!”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. He shouldn’t have snapped at Zane, he didn’t mean it!

He barely notices when his clothes start to turn shiny- but really, he should’ve paid more attention, because that’s the first sign of his embarrassment, and-

And now he’s invisible. There’s surprise on everyone’s faces as he suddenly vanishes from sight, and he quietly groans.

Today’s spa day is off to a great start.

—————————

They all realize it as soon as they’re about to be led back into the actual spa.

Zane smiles. “It’s quite alright, I don’t mind. I can just wait out here-“

Nya shakes her head. “No! Zane, you need to come with us-“

“A spa day would not be as beneficial for me; I am not an organic life form. I can wait outside for your return.”

What annoys Kai the most is how little Zane seems to be bothered by it. He just doesn’t seem to care that he can’t enjoy things like they can.

Kai narrows his eyes, cutting off Cole mid-sentence by stepping into Zane’s personal space and grabbing his arm.

“You can still feel things, right?”

Zane frowns. “Yes, but I don’t have skin or nails that would be affected the same way a human’s would-“

“Not what I’m asking.” Kai interjects. “You can feel things. Would the spa treatments feel nice?”

Zane seems uneasy. “I- I suppose, they most likely would be at least somewhat enjoyable to my sensors-“

“Good. You’re coming in with us.”

“But there is no purpose-“

“Yes there is! You’re always concerned about other people, take a damn break and let other people take care of you for once! You’re just as much a member of the team as the rest of us, and I shouldn’t have to tell you that!”

The room goes silent. Zane stares at him with wide eyes, and while Kai is aware that everyone else probably is too, he doesn’t care about them at the moment.

Kai let’s go of Zane’s arm and takes a step back, closer to the actual entrance of the spa. “Well?” He demands.

The nindroid gives a small smile and nods.

Kai smiles back.

And then he’s drawn back to reality by the woman taking them back to the spa. They all start chatting again, although a bit softer this time.

Jay tugs on his sleeve. “Hey, uh, Kai?” He speaks in a low tone.

“What.” He really doesn’t want to listen to whatever rambles Jay has at the moment.

“You’re pink.”

Kai blinks and looks down at his outfit. Pink?! He’s fucking pink?!

Okay, okay, hopefully they’ll think it’s platonic, it can just be platonic, it’s fine-

He turns invisible again.

God damn it.

—————————

Kai has to admit, maybe the spa thing wasn’t such a bad idea.

The aloe vera face mask is pretty nice, and when it’s taken off, he thinks he looks pretty good.

He also gets a sugar scrub, and then heads into the sauna. Luckily, it’s the seven of them- and just them, so there’s not any strangers.

“So Zane, how have you been doing?” Cole prompts.

Zane hesitates a moment, and then sighs. “They attempted to give me a deep tissue massage.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then everyone starts laughing.

“But you’re a nindroid! You don’t have muscles to be massaged!” Jay giggles.

“FSM, how long before they figured it out?” Lloyd snorts.

Zane shifts some, and Kai glares at the others. How are they not realizing that it’s making him uncomfortable?!

“It took a few minutes.” The nindroid admits. “It was frustrating for the both of us.” His smile is strained, and it’s obvious that he’s covering up his emotions.

Obvious to Kai anyway.

Thankfully, the topic changes soon enough.

“Jay, what’s up with your nails?” Nya frowns.

The lightning master gives a nervous chuckle. “I liked the shade of blue.”

“They’re sparkly.” Cole adds with a mischievous grin.

Lloyd shakes his head with a smile. “I got mine done too.” He holds out his hands to show off the dark green with a swirly gold pattern.

“Ooh, those are pretty.” Jay nods. “I thought about getting a lighter blue design on top.”

“To look like lightning? That would’ve been pretty cool. Why’d you decide against it?” Cole frowns.

So caught up in everything, Kai doesn’t notice Skylor coming over to sit next to him.

Shit.

“Kai, we need to talk.” Her voice is soft, clearly trying to avoid drawing attention to them.

“I’d rather not.” Kai chuckles nervously, the robe he’s wearing flickering over to a dark purple.

She shakes her head with a sad smile. “It’s Zane, isn’t it?”

Kai freezes, his eyes wide. Then he sighs, running a hand down his face. “That obvious, huh?”

Skylor laughs. “To everyone except for him.” She confirms.

A quiet groan escapes him. “I hate everything.”

She pauses a moment, and then sighs. “I wish you would’ve told me.”

“At that point, I was still figuring it out myself.” Kai admits sheepishly.

“Even if our relationship was kind of complicated, I think we could still be friends.” Skylor smiles.

Kai smiles back. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Much to his surprise, his outfit is now a light yellow. Happy. Huh.

While it started a little rocky, this spa day seems to have gone pretty well.

Kai looks back over to the others, and finds Zane watching him with a pained expression. But as soon as he turns around, the nindroid looks away and rejoins the others’ conversation.

Though he’s confused at that, Kai decides to join the chatter, and Skylor does too.

By the time they leave the spa, Kai’s clothes are bright yellow.

Today went well…

But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

#master of emotion #kai smith #ninjago fanfiction #fanfic

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despairdiseases · 4 years

Text

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 6 - literally just a bleaching hair tutorial

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, a spider, hair bleaching, swearing, implied bad childhood? (let me know if I missed something)

summary: Virgil helps Remus finally do something with that bird's nest he calls hair and oops angst happens

A few sharp knocks sounded the window. Virgil looked up from his laptop, widening his eyes at the figure behind the glass, which waved him. Virgil rolled his eyes and took off his headphone, walking over to the window and opening it, letting Remus in.

'Why didn't you just walk through the front door?', Virgil questioned.

"Eh, this is more fun," Remus shrugged, looking around the room. He stopped and squealed when he saw the terrarium where Susan was, making a web. He went closer to the terrarium, cooing at the tarantula. Virgil raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. Remus turned his head to look at him, "Sorry not sorry, Susie is just too cute to resist."

Virgil opened his mouth to question the nickname but found himself unable to speak. Oh, of course, how could he forget. He looked away from a second before shaking it off, signing to Remus, 'True'. He crossed his arms and walked closer to Remus.

Remus straightened himself, "So, why am I here again? You wanna hook up or somethin'?"

The taller rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile. He walked over to a table where his computer was, along with other things such as empty glasses or crumbled paper. Virgil picked up a box of powdered hair bleach and waved it at Remus.

Remus widened his eyes a little, but the expression soon changed into an intrigued one, "Oh? What are you gonna do? Bleach my pubes?"

Virgil tried so hard to not throw the box at him, he really did. But he didn't entirely trust himself so instead, he put it down, he needed those hands to sign anyways, 'You always complain about wanting to dye your hair'.

"And you know how to do it?"

Virgil gestured to his black hair with purple in it.

"Touché. So are we gonna do it now, or?" Remus smirked slightly as Virgil nodded, picking up the box and walking out of his room. Remus waited for him for a few seconds, before Virgil stuck his head back into the room and gestured for him to follow. Virgil led him into a bathroom with a big mirror above the sink. There was a chair placed in front of it, which Virgil led him to sit on. He watched as Virgil placed the bleach on the edge of the sink and went to grab some other things from the cabinet next to the door. On the sink, he placed a "developer" from what Remus read on the label, whatever-the-hell that was, a mixing bowl and a mixing brush. He gestured for Remus to stay as he went out of the bathroom, presumingly to find other things he needed, and who was Remus to argue, he never bleached his hair before.

It wasn't long before Virgil returned, this time with rubber gloves on and carrying a measuring spoon and tin foil, setting the foil down. He opened the bleach and scooped a spoonful of it, pouring it into the mixing bowl. He set the spoon down and poured the developer into the bowl, mixing it together with a mixing brush. Remus watched all of it in the mirror, "You, uh, you sure you know what you're doing?" Virgil made eye contact with him through the mirror. He smiled at Remus, nodding. Remus nodded back, feeling more sure, "Okay."

Virgil put the mixing bowl down to sign, 'Where do you want to bleach it?

"Uh, I dunno..." he touched the tips of his hair softly, thinking, "Maybe my tips?"

'Are you sure?'

Remus nodded, "Yes I'm fucking sure. Aren't you the one who came up with this in the first place?"

Virgil rolled his eyes and walked in front of Remus, taking the brush and dipping it in the bowl. He took the tin foil and ripped a piece off. He took Remus' hand, at which the man in question flinched, and guided it to hold a chunk of his hair mashed into a bun on top of his head. Remus felt strangely sad when Virgil took his hand off of his, taking a chunk of the hair on his back and laying it against a piece of tin foil. He began adding the bleach onto the tips, bleaching roughly four or five inches but focusing mainly on the bottom. Remus soon found the strange feeling replaced with the thrill of doing something new. The process was repeated around eight more times before the bottom layer of the hair was covered in tin foil. Of course, Remus' arm began to hurt, "Are you done yet?" he whined.

Virgil shook his head absent-mindedly, finishing the last piece of hair that remained. Finally, Virgil wrapped the last of the bottom hair and gave Remus a thumbs up in the mirror. Remus let his hair fall down with a relief filled sigh, shaking his hand, "Shit, you have no idea how fucking hurt can you get by not doing anything."

Virgil let out a breathy laugh, though making almost no sound. Remus found it weird at first, like someone put a tv on mute, but eventually got used to it. At least now he didn't stare at Virgil when he laughed, Remus didn't even stare because he found him weird he just liked looking at Virgil laughing, as it didn't happen very often.

Remus took one of the foils into his hand, "So, how long 'til I get these off?"

Virgil looked up in thought, 'About forty minutes,' at that, Remus groaned. Virgil raised an eyebrow, 'What did you expect? 2 minutes?'

Remus looked away, "I mean yeah, kinda."

Virgil facepalmed. Remus laughed at the action, standing up, "So, is Picani here? I haven't seen him. What did you do? Did you kill him?"

Virgil shook his head as if it was a serious question, 'It's parent-teacher conference today, remember?'

Remus snorted, "Oh, yeah, shit. Mom's gonna be pissed as fuck. I mean, she's always pissed after parent-teachers, so..." he trailed off, looking up at Virgil.

'What do you wanna do now?', Virgil signed awkwardly.

The shorter shrugged, "I dunno, man, it's your house, you choose...or should I?"

'Please don't,'Virgil seemed to think for a minute, ignoring Remus' chuckling, 'Have you watched Zombieland?'

"No, what's that?"

Virgil widened his eyes, 'Are you serious?'

Remus pouted, "Yeah, what is it? Is it some kind of porn?"

The taller rolled his eyes, taking Remus by the hand and leading him to the living room. The strange feeling Remus had before had returned, somewhere in the back of his mind the word he was searching for to describe it, but Remus couldn't reach it. His chest felt tighter than usual, almost like Virgil was squeezing it. What was this feeling, Remus didn't know, but guesses it had something to do with the fact that he didn't eat anything all day. Yeah, now that he thought about it, he was really hungry. Dee would probably lecture him about his eating habits if he was here.

Virgil seated Remus on the couch in the living room, going to look through the stack of DVDs next to the tv. He finally settled on one, which Remus assumed was the one he and Virgil talked about a moment ago. He placed in on the DVD player under the tv, then got up and walked into the kitchen. Remus used that time to look around the room. It was...very neutral, if Remus had to be nice about it. But he didn't have to, so it was pretty fucking boring. The wallpaper was light beige. The couch was beige. The carpet was beige. Remus started to hate beige. At least the floor was dark brown. He noticed a few photographs on the wall next to the big wooden bookshelf. It had mostly Picani and Virgil in it, but one photograph stood out. It was of what Remus assumed was a young Picani, maybe around 15? He's poking his tongue out, along with some brown-haired woman. Remus walked closer to the photograph to take a good look at her. She was pale, very much like Virgil. Her curly hair was going past her shoulders, stopping shortly below. Her icy blue eyes were the same colour as one of Virgil's eyes. Behind the hair, Remus noticed a patch of skin darker than the rest, going up to her jaw.

Slam.

Virgil yanked the photo off the wall, walking over to the trash can and dropping it in harshly. He turned to go back to the kitchen, a kitchen pass-through making it possible for Remus to still see him.

"I uh, I- I'm sorry."

Virgil didn't reach, his expression shifting from irritated to neutral. He drank the water he poured himself.

Remus looked at the empty spot in the middle of the wall, "Look, dude, I didn't know...whatever the hell the business with that chick you have. Like, I guess it's Picani's wife or some-"

"Stop."

Remus widened his eyes at the quiet brittle voice, just on the edge of his hearing, obviously sore from not speaking for a long time. Virgil seemed to be the second to realize, widening his eyes before shaking it off.

He reached into the freezer and pulled out two tubs of strawberry and mint ice cream. Remus didn't bring up the obvious elephant in the room, instead forcing on a smile and walking over to grab two spoons from the dishware drawer. It wasn't long before the two were settled on the couch under a blanket, leaning against each other while eating ice cream. Virgil was silent, as always. Remus made comments through the whole movie, well, not whole obviously, he didn't want his precious hair to fry off.

He shoved the spoon full of ice cream into his mouth, "Shit, bro, Wichita and Little Rock really did that. We stan illegal queens," Virgil tapped his shoulder, "What'cha want, emo?" the man in question pointed to his foil-wrapped hair, "Oh, right, I forgot."

He set the tub down and went to the bathroom, waiting for Virgil to follow, but instead was met with signing, 'You can wash it yourself,' at which Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, okay," he hesitantly walked to the bathroom, glancing at Virgil before shutting the door.

Virgil sighed heavily, leaning against the sofa. He put hands on his face. At least he avoided more awkwardness. Emile is gonna be back soon, just a...what's the time again? Virgil checked his phone, good, just a few minutes now. Just a few minutes of awkwardly sitting through the movie until Emile comes home. Just a few minutes. Virgil didn't notice the water stopped running.

"Well, how do I look?"

Virgil glanced at Remus leaning against the door frame, hair still wet even though Remus had a damp towel in his hand. The tips of his hair bleached, blending together nicely with his naturally dark brown hair. Maybe Virgil was biased because he did that, but it looked beautiful on him, even with the wet hair. Virgil gave Remus thumbs up, smiling tensely.

"Damn right, I look so fuckable!" Remus looked in the mirror in the hallway proudly and Virgil couldn't help but let out a soundless laugh.

#when you walk away (nothing more to say)#sympathetic remus #remus sanders #virgil sanders #analodemus #dukexiety #vimus #slow burn

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malereader-inserts · 5 years

Text

Lived a Lie

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock & Brother!Reader & Mycroft Summary: In your life, you were happily living in a lie - hidden away from your brothers, isolated from your family. of course, the lies always catch up. Word Count: 1,758 Request: @mich-aufah “the reader who is a secret agent and perfect for any missions, but his brothers never know about it. until one day a mission went wrong, the reader was injured and went to Sherlock's flat to hide, only to be bombarded by questions from his older brothers!” Warning: Injury, blood

Sherlock and Mycroft had to admit, they weren’t the best of brothers anyone could ask for.

But, they couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that you barely show your face to them, did they really repulse you that much? Were you ashamed of them? Perhaps, disgusted?

Whatever it is, they barely see you. They don’t know where you lived, you just appear random times, sometimes every three months to reassure them you’re still alive. Sometimes, the occasional text message or a phone call but they just couldn’t crack it.

They see you for Christmas, it was a guarantee. There would be a present for their birthday from you wherever you think they are most likely to find it. But, they couldn’t last remember when the last time they saw you with a birthday gift in hand. They’ve given up with your birthday, with no home address to send it to or you having a sporadic routine it was hard to track you down.

What they didn’t know that your life was just as hectic as theirs, possibly just a tad more. You don’t remember how you became a secret agent, it’s been a whirlwind of a life, but you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else.

Your name became a famous threat in your little spy-agent community. Big bosses of crime, gangs and others were afraid to be visited by you. You were trained to be an agent, you somehow came out of the training process ten times deadlier than most. You were perfect for anything, undercover missions, research gathering, diffusing bombs and weapons, disbanding and extinctions of groups of contrabands.

Anything challenging, they come up to you.

The only reason why your brothers never found out what you did because you never were referred to as Agent Holmes. Though, they did call you Deimos. The spirit of terror and dread according to Greek Mythology, the organisation found it fitting in your respect.

Yet, not every agent is going to achieve their missions as perfect. You’ve had a few failures here and then, you always managed to pick yourself up. Most of the time, you find yourself nursing yourself back to health. The injuries were inevitable, sometimes they were bad, sometimes they were life-threatening and sometimes it’s just a minor inconvenience.

But, now, you curse yourself for allowing that stupid little recruit aid you in your latest mission.

Not only you were found, but you also had a hit mark on you. You’ve been running through the busy roads of London before ducking into an abandoned alleyway. Leaning against the wall, you peer over the corner to try and detect whoever was after you. After establishing you had managed to lose them, the adrenaline was wearing off.

You look down to you grey shirt, pulling back the black jacket and found that you’ve been hit. You groaned as you see the grey turn darker. Lifting your shirt, you found a bullet wound in your left side and some stab wounds when you were fighting hand to hand with the assassin.

The stab wounds weren’t that bad, you’ve endured worst, but it was the bullet wound. You gasp as you lean your head back, closing your eyes. You could hear your team down your ear, you bitterly spoke back to them.

“If that recruit isn’t dead, I’ll kill him myself,” You spoke angrily as you open your eyes and took a deep breath.

Your team was frantically trying to keep you safe, you had trusted them behind the computer screens as they told you to go into hiding before switching off your comm. You pressed down on the bullet wound and started to slowly move out to the public.

Your right hand covered by your jacket as you pressed against the bullet wound. You could feel the hot red liquid staining your hands as you try to make to a place that was safe.

You found yourself limping your way to Sherlock’s home, blood loss was getting to you as your left-hand forms a fist, familiar with the paintings of red of the blood and disgusting combination of purple and blue at the knuckles. Standing in front of the black door, you knocked heavily. Leaning your left hand against the doorway.

The doorway swung open to reveal John. His eyes widen when he sees you.

“I know this seems inconvenient but this is the safest place to hide,” Your murmured.

John’s eyes look at your hand against your body and saw the red before quickly beckoning you in. Throwing your left arm over his shoulders as you groan, Mrs Hudson coming out her apartment and sees John and you at the stairs.

“I’ll grab your medic kit,” She announced as she follows you two up the stairs.

“Fuck,” You breathed out tiredly, “I’m sorry about-”

“Nonsense,” John gritted as he kicks the door open, “It’s them you have to worry about.”

You blink and see in the living room, both your brothers in the middle of a sparring match of words. You heaved a heavy breath before wincing as John place you gently onto the sofa. Mrs Hudson quickly giving John his stuff as he starts to tend to you.

Sherlock and Mycroft watched silently, as you shut your eyes, scrunching up your nose in displeasure. John was skilled, he worked as an army doctor, so he was skilled in getting out the bullet out of you.

“You’re surprisingly-” You gasped as your bloody hand gripped the sofa, “quiet.”

“What the-” Sherlock started to speak, unable to wrap his mind around this.

They try to deduce you. Take note of your injured state. A bruise that had begun as a purple stain above your eyebrow had sunk into the socket itself, and so now it had the appearance of a black eye and they stared at your bare upper half, seeing John was tending to wounds up in that area - purple welts were scattered across your abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breathe and they wondered if some ribs were cracked.

But, what stood out was past scars that inflicted your body, it seems like you were not a stranger to guns and knives.

“What on earth did you get yourself into?” Mycroft hissed, shrugging his jacket off and a surge of panic inflicted over him as he promptly asked John how he could help.

“You know how to stitch?” John asked as Mycroft nodded - he was trained as a first aider, “Then start stitching the stabs.”

John furrowed his eyebrows together as he tries to retrieve the bullet, you let out a guttural noise from your throat.

“I-” You took a sharp inhale then exhale at the sudden cleaning of your stabs, “Mission.”

“Mission?” Sherlock questioned, finally snapping out of it and grabbing ice for your black eye.

Gently press it down, soothing the burning pain in your head.

“Mission,” you confirmed, “MI5 had-shit-”

Sherlock hummed, “Take your time, little one,”

Mycroft nodded, though your eyes were busy being closed you could sense his agreement.

“Aha!” John finally gets the bullet out, you could finally relax, as he starts to stitch you up.

“I work for MI5, have been ever since I left college,” you explained, you were soft, tired and wanting sleep to take over you.

“When were you going to tell us?” Mycroft sharp voice cuts into you as you cringe.

“Well, I suppose, never,” You admitted, “I made a name for myself, if they find out that I have an attachment to my brothers, then-”

“I’m perfectly capable of fending for myself,” Sherlock argued, “I stopped our sister-”

“This is different Sherlock,” You grumbled, “You don’t know what I am capable of doing.”

“Then enlighten us,” Mycroft wondered, “I doubt we would hear anything as worst?”

You feel the ice pack separates away from you as Mycroft’s hands were swatted away from you by John as he takes over. You open your eyes and stare at your brothers.

“No-”

“Yes-”

“Fuck off-” You hissed, “None of your business.”

“You’re bleeding over my sofa, it became our business then!” Sherlock snapped, finally dropping his comforting side to you, feeling you were becoming defensive and stubborn.

“No-”

“Why are you even here then?” Sherlock challenged as you glare at him.

“I’m here because I somewhat value my life,” You bite back as the three men look at you, you were slowly becoming hostile, “Right now, I have people wanting my head, feel free to get in line brothers.”

THey watch your jaws clenched, you scoffed as you leave your arm over your eyes. The lights slowly digging into your brain.

“I’ll get out of your hair when I know I’m safe, or when you’re unsafe, and then you won’t have to see me ever again,”

“No,” Mycroft insistent, looking at Sherlock with annoyance, “We want to see you more often, not wondering if our youngest is still alive. The fact that we know you work for MI5 will worry us more - we want to understand. So stop being so bloody stubborn.”

“Why don’t you just deduce it? You’re a bunch of clever clogs, do it yourself,” You snapped.

“(Y/n)-” Mycroft’s warning voice was slowly getting into you.

“(Y/n)...” Sherlock hissed, “If you think we’re going to let you go then you’re sorely mistaken, let us understand. Please.”

Sherlock never says please, you slowly remove your arm from your eyes as you stare at them suspiciously.

“I don’t want you to disappear from our lives in order to protect us,” Mycroft calms down as he looks at you, “Please.”

Mycroft never says please, if he does it’s always sarcastic. But, staring at your brothers with dubious eyes and see genuine concern you give in. You stare at John as he finishes stitching you up, he starts to unravel some bandages and was about to help you sit up.

You were a family guy, you have always valued family that’s why you never said anything about your job. Afraid they, people who want you dead, would get to them. You promised to make no bonds or make no attachment, but you could no longer hide away or lie to their faces anymore.

You were a Holmes. Something crazy always happens to your family.

Trouble runs in your blood.

“If we’re going to this, I need at least new clothes and a few rounds of coffee or alcohol - whatever is available.”

You were in for a long night, at least you were safe, for now.

#sherlock BBC #sherlock imagine #sherlock and mycroft imagine #sherlock bbc imagine #mycroft imagine #mycroft holmes imagine #mycroft x male reader #sherlock x male reader #platonic #x male reader

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petitpsds · 5 years

Text

psd tutorial!!

okay guys so finally it’s here- today i’ll be showing you how to make any kind of soft psd! i will include an in depth tutorial with tips.

Part one: creating the psd.

step 1: find the image you’ll be using. now for me, i create psds based on the tone of the image. because i find that if you make a (in example) purple toned psd and try to add it to a warm toned almost orange-ish photo, it won’t look the best. step 2 (optional): find an inspiration! lately i’ve been really really inspired by velvestuff unnie!!! i really enjoy how visually pleasing and aesthetic her soft icons are. they’re literally perfection and i dont think it’s possible for anyone to try and replicate her edits. but it’s ok to be inspired! set goals. otherwise, you won’t really have a base to your edits. to create a purple/pink/brown psd in photoshop, it can be essential and effective yet optional to use the follower:

brightness & contrast ( main ): these two are mainly important for either brightening or darkening your psd. it’ll serve as a key factor.

vibrance: sometimes you’ll find your psd to be TOO vibrant and orangey. you’ll use this to tone down the image.

color balance ( main ): color balance is a huge factor in my opinion. it’s what will allow your photo to be either purple/pink toned or orange/brown tone. you’ll be seeing me using this a lot in my psds.

black & white ( main, if too contrasted ): to me, black & white substitutes as a contrast, but the good thing about this tool is that it’ll either tone down the red hues or make it darker, as well as the yellow hues.

photo filter ( main ): this’ll substitute the vibrance. you’ll see why it’s important by the end of this tutorial.

channel mixer: this will serve as a color balance option. it’s helpful for boosting red, yellow, and blue hues.

color lookup (sometimes optional): this tool will help get a color tone to your photos. let’s say i want something more pink; then i’ll use a pink color lookup and set the opacity low.

gradient map & solid colors ( main ): also important. serves as a color balance substitute and could tone down the vibrance or could raise the brightness. i always recommend using these in ‘color’.

i’ll be using this photo to start off:

step one: i’ll start off using the brightness tool. here i’ll lower the brightness down to -9 & the contrast to -23.

step two: then, i’ll proceed to add a solid color (aka color fill) of this shade. after doing so, i’ll change the setting to “color” and lower the fill to 37.

step three: then, i’ll proceed to use the color filter with these settings.

and so far we already have this layer lineup, and these are the results so far.

it’s up to you if you’d like to add more filters to your photos, but this is the base for a purple/brown psd that looks good on dark/semi bright photos and lq photos. i’ll continue on to add to this look to make it more purple and brown so follow along! step four: i’ve added a color balance layer and changed out the photo to test my psd to see how drastically it’d change: but it didn’t. but then again, since psd edits appear different on phone screens, i started to mess with the color balance to get a more purple look, so that the purple doesn’t get cancelled out on phone screens and still remains pretty. so i used the following settings:

i applied this color balance layer UNDERNEATH the solid color and photo filter layer, because if you add this on the top of everything, the blue will be overpowering. if you do not want a heavy blue filter on your edit, always apply a solid color, gradient, or color balance layer underneath a solid color that’ll lower the vibrance of your edit. and with this setting:

my outcome was:

and if you haven’t noticed, i did apply my softer action which you can find over here!

soo, now that you have the basis of your pink/brown/blue psd, you can continue to mess around with the same steps as before!

part two: tips

— stay away from hues. if you do decide to use hues, set the opacity to no more than 5%. this is because an overused hue can cancel out colors that’ll make your psd look decent. if you want to use a high opacity hue layer, at least use it on an image that you set your hue color to. (if i use a pink hue, i’ll use it on a pink photo) but make sure it’s not colorful, so it’ll look better on a pink and white photo [[like a cafe photo or ulzzang photo]]. because what the hue will do to a pink photo with brown in it is give the brown an unpleasant purple pink tone and i’ll just look not good. so overall: avoid hues. try to use the “color” option instead if you would like a color to pop more. — if you’re creating a soft psd, use a soft action! i’ve created one on my blog. an action is basically a group of <<literally>> actions created in photoshop. so lets say i want to take this sharpen and blur then noise i added onto my image, and apply it to another one; it cuts the work of redoing it over and over. so you just record what you want to be done to another photo and boom, you have an action! — keep in mind, you will always have to adjust a psd. even if you made a psd that looks amazing on a couple of photos with the same tones, one will always be maybe too orange or maybe too blue, and with that you’ll have to balance it out. if your edit comes out with a overruling color, use color balance to tone it down the opposite way. for example, if your photo comes out really pink and you aren’t satisfied, use color balance on the blues or yellows to make it more neutral. these would most likely be the things you’ll encounter when changing a psd. other than that, you should be satisfied with your creation! — contrast will either be your blessing or your curse. sometimes, it’s easy to get carried away with lowering you contrast, this is because it does! do not be hesitant to lower your contrast down. but just no to the point where it greys out your photo and looks dullish. also, do not be afraid to use the default black & white gradient. set it to ‘soft light’ and lower the opacity and voila, you get a decent and balanced looking psd that’s not too consumed by low contrast. — as you know, sometimes your icons after you post them will look somewhat different once you view them from your phone. technically, you cannot fix it. this is because you phone and computer have different screen viewings and color schemes (this is the easiest way i can explain it after researching about it for so long) it’ll typically desaturate your photo and make it look dull sometimes. what you can do is take time and observe well... it looks really desaturated on my phone screen? i’ll turn the saturation up just a bit. just use that mindset and you’ll be set! just remember, the less vibrant a psd is through photoshop, it’ll look even more less vibrant through your phone screen and on tumblr. — don’t be afraid of lowering vibrance though! well, instead of lowering the vibrance, i just use the photo filter and set it to #333230 or #393633. these will act as a low vibrance but it’ll also add almost a greyish purple tint, which’ll come out pretty. — sometimes, it’ll be best to lower the opacity of a psd but most of the times, you shouldn’t have to. because a psd should never have too much overruling colors. so, lowering the opacity to most layers will help out SO MUCH. you don’t want a photo that’ll be colorful. you want it to look balanced and neat. — most of the time, you’ll have to be careful when selecting photos. because not only will it be for the sake of aesthetic and neatness; it’s simply also because not all psds will look good on every photo out there. most psds will look good on certain photos, and when you find a perfect photo to match the psd, just use the same color scheme or theme with your other photos. so yeah, thats all everyone!! feel free to leave any concerns or message me if i missed something and i’ll add it onto this post! happy editing, and i truly hope i addressed everything and helped you guys with insight.

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miserylovescompanyfanfic · 4 years

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MLC Ch: 2

A standard day for Emilia Wine involved with getting up at 7:30 am during the weekdays, throwing on her leggings and slipping a bra on under her t-shirt, yawning as she made a smoothie and squinted against the bright light and white kitchen décor. It usually involved a thought along the lines of “I really need to redecorate,” sipping a bit of the smoothie as she stretched listening to the news, before slipping on her tennis shoes and grabbing her phone with some earbuds, finally jogging out the door.

Emilia’s first thing in the morning jog was usually the worst part of her day, mainly just because of how early she forced herself to get up. Though it was only an hour and she ran a few miles all together from her apartment down the few blocks to the main park in the center of the city, around that track a few times, then down to the coffee shop that she worked at in the afternoons, and back home-- it was still about 9 miles a day give or take.

It wasn’t a fun experience, especially since she never really enjoyed running in the first place-- though all the years she spent chasing after Sonic toned her for the endeavor, also it was a decent way to stay in shape and up her endurance.

Though, she was doing a bit more these days to stay in shape as well, running was just the easiest to accomplish with her busy schedule.

Today was only slightly different though compared to the rest of her days. The coffee shop was a little busier than normal, but that wasn’t too much of a unique thing. No, it was as Amy was leaving, waving her goodbyes to the sweet Badger girl named Sticks who always worked the early morning shift that while she was pushing the door open she accidentally ran into another body.

See, even though Emilia didn’t look like she had a lot of muscle-- she was still very strong. She ran nearly full force into the other person, heard a grunt and slam from their side of the glass door.

They were a hedgehog like herself, but he had unique coloring (like she did too but that isn’t important); he held his head where she assumed she smacked him in the face with it, and also noticed the coffee cup in his hand.

Her eyes widened as an apology was on her lips, but the sharp look he gave her had her pause. His eyes were a sharp, vivid red, brighter than anything she had ever seen… set against his coal black fur they glowed like embers.

His mouth opened to say or yell or shout or curse or something but she beat him to it. “I’ll pay for your dry cleaning!”

She closed the door behind her as they moved farther from the entrance, he huffed and looked at the blue button down shirt he had. Emilia looked him over, noticing a little swelling developing on his temple but nothing else.

“Here, look at me.” She held her finger up at him and slowly moved it in front of his face. His eyebrows pinched as he looked at her finger than at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” He demanded, his voice deep with a slight baritone to it. Emilia placed a hand on her hip and blew her bangs out of her face.

“Checking to make sure you don’t have a concussion. Now, watch my finger.” He was taken aback, eyes widened as he started following her finger. “I’ve got painkillers with me if you need them.” He shook his head after a moment and looked down at his phone.

“Gah, I don’t have time for this. Don’t bother.” He threw away the rest of his coffee in the garbage outside the café, casting one last glance at her. “Don’t worry about the shirt.”

He moved past her, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he was striding down the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry!” She called to him, his ear twitched so she knew he heard her. Emilia placed her hands on her hips for a moment before putting her earbuds back in, checking the time along with picking a new song, and getting back to the day ahead of her.

It was a big city after all, what are the chances she would run into him again, anyways?

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

She made it back to her apartment at nearly 9:00, which is a little too late for her comfort but there wasn’t much she could do about the situation. Instead she hoped in the shower for a quick wash, downed the rest of her smoothie from earlier with some toast to accommodate it, and then went to revising one of her papers that was due at 2:59 pm at the end of class that day.

Emilia Wine was a senior in college in her last year of a bachelor's degree in Electrical Engineering and Computer Sciences; the subject of which she found utterly fascinating and had tried to decide whether or not she was going to follow her studies further.

Though, at the moment, she was happy.

Yes, when she was still known as Amy Rose she threw herself into her studies immediately, immensely, and got one of the highest grades-- much to Tails delight (seeing as he already finished all of his schooling by the time he was 12, but… whatever.) Getting to be Emilia Wine wasn’t just an overnight decision, though. It took months of planning, and a lot of strings to be pulled by government officials, even the Royal Family themselves had to be involved in the process to allow Amy to change her name and move away.

But it was done, in the city of Empire Amy Rose was officially, and legally, Emilia Wine.

Who was a top student at ECU in her program, which she was very proud to report back to her friends at home.

Though, there were plenty of friends she made here, like…

“Emiliaaaaaa,” there was a singing voice as it bounded down the tiled hallways. Little heels clipping along the hallway as Emilia turned around to watch with a small smile as her best friend came up to her.

“Hey Cream,” Cream the Rabbit wasn’t quite as tall as Emilia was now, though they were about the same age (Emilia was just only slightly older) even with her heels on. Cream and her had been friends since the beginning of school when they were put together as roommates in their first year together.

“You Bitch!” She yelled at Emilia after catching her breath for a moment. Her orange sweater was bunched around her waist where a pastel blue skirt was ruffled from her “run”. “You said you were going to wait!” Cream mock hit Emilia, pouting the entire time.

Emilia laughed, grabbing Cream’s hand as she pulled the other girl outside. “Cream you’re gonna get us kicked out if you keep yelling Bitch at me.”

“Well then stop being one!”

Emilia tapped her cheek for a moment, giving a sly smile to Cream as she patted the other girls head. “Then I wouldn’t be me, would I?”

“That’s the point.” Cream pouted, crossing her arms as the two walked towards the library.

“But then you wouldn’t love me.” Emilia batted her eyelashes at Cream, who scoffed and rolled her honey yellow eyes.

“Sounds like your loss.” Cream put her nose in the air, stuffing her hands in her sweatshirt pockets.

Emilia lurked behind Cream at that point, giving a sickly sweet smile from over the girls shoulder.

“But what if… I make you cookies?”

“Mmmm…” Cream looked at Emilia for a moment, before shaking her head. “Sorry, you gotta try a bit harder.”

“I’m not a “try hard” like you are,” Emilia flipped her quills over her shoulder, now significantly longer and pulled into a high ponytail to keep them manageable.

Cream gasped at her, throwing her book bag at Emilia.

“Emi!” Emilia laughed as she ran, Cream grabbing her bag from the ground and running after the peach hedgehog. “You whore!”

“Stop talking about yourself like that.” Emilia called over her shoulder, ducking from the bag Cream threw at her again.

Emilia finally made it into the library, flashing a guilty smile to the librarian at the front desk as she skipped the elevator and ran up the spiral staircase, going rather quickly as she made it to the third floor by the time that Cream got to the entryway.

Emilia could tell because of the clicking of Cream’s heels on the flooring.

Emilia stifled a laugh, holding her hand over her mouth as she moved deeper into the bookshelves towards a slightly darker part of the library. She turned around, walking backwards among the shelves as she watched with excitement for Cream.

Hands suddenly touched her arms, and made Emilia squeal. She turned around quickly, ready to see Cream there but-- there was empty air.

Emilia could still feel the hands on her arms though, and the grip slowly loosened. There was stillness for a moment before the world in front of her moved. Purple manifested where there was open air just a moment before.

“Sorry,” a voice said, a calming rumble like thunder. “You were backing up so quickly and then I realized that you probably didn’t see me.” A chameleon stood in front of her rather suddenly, and Emilia blinked in surprise.

“Oh, I should’ve been paying more attention. I’m sorry for almost running you over.” Emilia shifted her bag over her shoulder to sit more comfortably.

“Why were you running anyways?” he asked her, and she felt rather embarrassed to say she was playing an impromptu game with her friend.

“I, umm…” she rubbed her arm then. “Well, it’s going to sound kind of silly, but I’m hiding from my friend.”

The chameleon smiled then, nodding. “As long as you’re not in trouble.” There was silence for a moment.

“I’m Espio by the way, I’m a student teacher here for the time being.” He held his hand out to her. Emilia smiled easily and took it in her own to shake.

“Emilia, I’m finishing up my last year for my bachelor’s degree. I’ve gotta say you don’t look like a student teacher.”

Espio gave a light hearted chuckle at that. “Yeah, I’m not much older than the majority of students here. I just finished most of my schooling early.”

“Ah, one of my best friends is like that.” Emilia nodded. Though the conversation didn’t go much farther than that when Cream barreled down the row of books and tackled Amy to the ground.

Thankfully Espio was faster than either of them, as he moved out of the way before Emilia and Cream flew by him and into the floor.

“I found you!” Cream hissed in triumph, sitting on top of her friend with arms crossed. Espio looked between the two of them before hiding his laughter behind his hand.

“It was great to meet you Emilia.” Espio said eventually, Emilia gave him a weak thumbs up from the ground. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he wandered down the rows of books before turning invisible again.

“Who was that?” Cream asked once she decided to let Emilia up. Emilia brushed herself off and shouldered her bag.

“His name is Espio, apparently he’s a student teacher here.”

“Weird, who for?” Emilia shrugged. Cream tapped her chin.

“Well, I haven’t seen him before.”

Emilia gave a sly smile to Cream once again.

“I’m surprised actually, with how many people you’ve slept with around campus you know everyone by proxy.”

Cream hit Emilia on the arm with an encyclopedia from the book shelves. Emilia laughed and then softly cried out “Owww I have to use this arm tonight.”

Cream’s cheeks were blazing red. “At least I’m classy enough to not try to seduce my teachers.” She sniffed.

Emilia blushed crimson.

“It was a completely accidental and giant misunderstanding!”

#misery loves company #misery loves company fanfic #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #sth #sonic au #shadamy #fanfiction #fanfic #cream the rabbit #espio the chameleon

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votederpycausemufins · 5 years

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Red: ch 3 Berries

This story is also posted on Ao3

Chloé visits Marinette’s home and designing happens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chloé did her best not to look nervous as she approached the Dupain-Cheng bakery. She may have been invited, but going to her former rival’s home was different to say the least, not to mention she was on Sabine’s bad side as far as she knew, and Marinette mom was someone you did not want to be on the bad side of.

Chloé took a breath before opening the door to the bakery. The bell chimed and Sabine looked over. “Hello welcome to- oh, hello Chloé.”

The blonde was surprised at the unexpected warmth in Sabine’s voice. Her best guess was that Marinette had told her mother that Chloé would be visiting, but it was still surprising there wasn’t a hint of anger in Sabine’s voice.

Marinette came down the steps, nearly falling. “Chloé you’re here! Come on up!”

Sabine turned to look at her daughter. “Would you like me to bring any treats up? I’ve got a fresh batch of strawberry crumble.”

“Oh that’s perfect Maman! I’m actually designing a line based on different berries!”

“You will have to show me when it is finished.”

“I will Maman.” Marinette replied with a smile before dragging Chloé upstairs all the way to her room, which was tricky on the ladder.

Chloé looked around the bedroom. The place was very… pink. In the one episode of Fill my Shoes, Chloé had seen Marinette’s room appear, and it looked pretty much the same, but the area around her computer looked different. “It looks empty over there.”

Marinette briefly looked upset. “I’m uh… redecorating that area.”

That’s right, Chloé recalled, that’s where Adrien’s pictures had been. Another sign about how Marinette liked Adrien, but of course she didn’t anymore after what he had done. “Well maybe you should put your sketches there.”

Marinette tilted her head as she looked at the area. “You’re probably right. Could you grab my sketchbook?” Chloé didn’t move and after a few seconds staring at the wall, Marinette turned to look and the blonde. “Oh right, you’re not Alya. It’s fine if you don’t want to help.”

“No, I would grab it for you, but not only don’t know where it is, I also still remember last time I tried taking it.”

Marinette covered her mouth. “Oh that’s right! I completely forgot!”

“Here is it Marinette!” Tikki came flying over dragging the sketchbook along in the air.

“That looks heavy” Chloé commented, grabbing it from the kwami to give to Marinette.

“Just a little. I’m stronger than I look.”

Chloé gave a nod as Marinette carefully took out some pages. “Those don’t look like some of your best work, why bother putting them up?”

Marinette shrugged. “I guess I’m just paranoid with everything that’s been happening. It’s better if I put out the worse stuff in case someone tries stealing it.”

“That’s pretty clever. Like with your signature that looks like a design.”

“Yeah, I started designing them with that after Adrien’s birthday.”

Chloé’s eyes widened. “So that scarf was made by you! Of course his father wouldn’t wouldn’t give him a present like that. Ugh, he’s as bad as Hawkmoth sometimes.”

Marinette gave a small laugh. “I actually thought he was Hawkmoth until he was akumatized.”

“Right. So, you said you’ve been doing some designs?”

“Oh, yes!” Marinette smiled and opened her sketchbook to near the back. “I’ve finished blueberry, strawberry and raspberry. I’m still working on cranberry.”

Chloé looked at the designs. She had to admit, they did look nice. “These mainly seem more feminine. Anything a bit more masculine?”

“Well, the berry theme seems more oriented to dresses and other ‘feminine’ styles.”

Chloé studied the designs for a little bit more before handing the sketchbook back. “Maybe counterpart outfits, like bilberry and bramble berry.”

“Oh! That’s a good idea! What about strawberry and cranberry?” Marinette asked, grabbing a pencil and quickly writing some notes.”

Chloé pauses, thinking for a bit. “Well currant for cranberry, but strawberry is a bit harder. Maybe… lychee? Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, my uncle has made some recipes with Lychee, though not too many. It’s mainly for deserts. But that’s a great idea for the counterpart to strawberry!”

“Now if there were only something yellow.” Chloé said quietly, though loud enough Marinette heard.

“Well, bananas are classified as berries actually.”

“Look, yellow is okay, but actually picturing a banana is a line I will not cross!” Chloé states firmly, crossing her arms.

“That makes sense. And I know it’s not yellow, but I may have made a design or two for you. I’ve done at least one for everyone in the class. Well except Lila.” Marinette gave a quick shrug and grabbed a different sketchbook. “It’s got some purple in it, but I could recolor it if I make it.”

Chloé took the sketchbook that was handed to her. It looked… nice. The design had her with a long sleeved dress shirt with the cuffs slightly rolled up. Over it was a vest like shirt. It was a light lavender and in the middle there was a white and purple diamond design. The pants were a simple middle grey tone. The shoes were the same color or a little darker with lavender and white accents in the same diamond pattern.

“This is… amazing. Can you make this for me actually?” Chloé looked up from the sketchbook. “But change the colors. The purples make yellows and the white in the designs can be lavender.”

Marinette looked shocked. “Wait, really?”

“Well various magazines say changing how you dress can help change how you act.”

“Alright, I guess I’ll redraw it with those colors. I might change the design to better fit them, so if I do, I can send you a picture! But wait…” Marinette turned to look at Chloé after turning to her designing area. “I don’t have your phone number.”

“Ugh, that’s right… fine, give me a piece of paper. Just make sure you get rid of it once it’s in your phone. I don’t want anyone else getting it. Adrien and Sabrina are already enough. I want to block Adrien, but it might be suspicious.”

“You could just do it anyway.” Marinette suggested.

“No, no. It could make him worse. Besides, who knows if it could be useful in the future. Now, let’s stop talking about him. So, you’re working on those berry designs?”

“Right! Designing!” Marinette grabbed her sketchbook but fumbled with it, somehow managing to smack it, flinging it towards Chloé and hitting her in the face.

“Dupain-Cheng!” Marinette flinched at the yell. “How are you so graceful as Ladybug and so clumsy as you?!”

Marinette gave a small sigh of relief that Chloé wasn’t being mean then listening as the blonde continued. “Look, we’re friends now I guess, so I’m not going to be too mean outside of school. But at school I will be mean. I have appearances to upkeep.”

“Is that why you acted mean when you invited me to your table?” Marinette raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, exactly. I’m known as a bully, especially yours, and if I was suddenly just nice, it would be worse than half nice.”

“I guess, though you don’t really have to pretend to completely like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Chloé glared at Marinette before her eyes softened. “Oh, you mean that. Look I’m still getting used to having a real friend. Which we have only been for a day.”

“Maybe, but you’ve been nicer to me than anyone else in our class in the past week.”

Suddenly Tikki flew away and hid as the trapdoor opened to Sabine. “Here are the treats girls.”

“Thank you Mme. Dupain-Cheng.” Chloé thanked Sabine and took the platter from her.

“I’m just glad Marinette has someone coming over again.”

Chloé nodded and took the treats over to Marinette as Sabine went back down. As the designer picked up one piece, Chloé picked up another. “To new friendships I suppose.”

“Right, to new friendships.” Marinette nodded, then pressed her piece against Chloé’s for a moment as if they were clinking glasses after a toast before she took a bite.

Chloè took a bite of her own and was amazed at how it tasted. She barely ate anything from the bakery if she could help it, but she had to admit, everything they made was delicious. “This is amazing!”

Marinette laughed. “It must be if you’re talking with your mouth full.”

“Oh shut up!” Chloé said, failing to stifle a laugh, proceeding to playfully push Marinette a little. It took her back to their first year of school together. Well it wasn’t quite school. It was a day of daycare while their parents were working together on something. It was the first and last time they were together before Chloé really started to act like a bully. Just before her mother left for her nearly permanent move to America.

“Thanks Marinette. For letting me have the chance to be your friend.”

Marinette gave a small smile. “I’m glad you’re willing to change.”

The two gave a quick hug before continuing their time together, eventually losing track of how late it was getting, leading to Chloé calling her father to say she was staying over, which was fine since tomorrow they didn’t have school.

Chloé was surprised to find that Marinette had some Queen Bee pajamas, though she seemed to have a set for each of the heroes. Marinette dressed herself in what was likely her regular pajamas. The designer then set up a place on the floor with plenty of blankets and pillows. “There, I can sleep here and you can have the bed.”

“Thanks Marinette.” Chloé smiled before getting into the bed. They were just getting situated and ready to sleep, when out of nowhere, there was a knock on the door. The door to the balcony.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug salt #tikki

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mandiemegatron · 5 years

Text

Best Birthday Ever!

A Yoosung Kim birthday oneshot ; 03/11/2019

Happy birthday to my best boy Yoosung Kim! You deserve nothing but the best. This is my very first Mystic Messenger oneshot and I am beyond thankful to @lumiolivierlithium for helping me by being my beta and my strength as I fight my nerves towards posting this! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to like, reblog and/or comment! Thank you again ! ♡

This is rated G!

Words: 2,362

For the first time since Rika had passed away, Yoosung woke before his alarm went off. His eyes snapped open three whole minutes before the loud klaxon alarm bell rang, a slow grin washing over his face as he suddenly sat up, throwing his arms in the air with a shout of,

"Hell yeah, it's my birthday!"

The moment the words left his mouth, his phone vibrated and up popped MC's photo, indicating a phone call. He scrambled to grasp his phone before answering almost breathlessly, having nearly fallen off the bed and face planting into rough carpeting.

"Good morning MC!"

"Ah, good morning Yoosung! Happy birthday sweetie!"

Yoosung's face turned a dark red though his grin still remained. "Thank you so much! I can't believe you called me to wish me happy birthday,"

MC giggled on the other line, switching her phone to her other ear as she replied, "Of course honey, why wouldn't I? You're my best bud Yoosung, of course I'm going to call you..."

Yoosung went to reply but stopped as MC took only half a second to breathe before she started singing, the birthday melody falling into Yoosung's ears like a lullaby. Half way through, he began to tear up. He hadn't been sung Happy Birthday since he was a kid, and he didn't realize how much he actually loved it until now.

When she finished, her side of the line went quite for a while, unsure if her friend actually enjoyed it. Then, hearing what sounded like a sniffle, she exclaimed,

"Oh god, I made you cry! I didn't think my singing was that bad!"

Yoosung then laughed, wiping at his eyes as his grin returned. "Th-thank you MC... you're always so nice to me."

Though he couldn't see it, he could hear the smile in her voice when she softly replied, "...My pleasure, Yoosungie. Now, I have a feeling I woke you up with my phone call so-"

"Actually, you didn't!"

Silence.

"MC?"

More silence. And then,

"... so you can wake up whenever you want, you just decide to be a butt and sleep so much you miss classes on purpose! You sneaky boy."

Fumbling over his excuses, a soft giggle caused heat to rush to his face all over again as she teased, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

After a few more moments of Yoosung yawning and humming from MC's line, she then asked,

"Hey, you wanna do breakfast with me and the twins? Saeran is begging for waffles and I can't say no to him anymore. Also I want to treat you... if that's okay."

There was no hiding that Yoosung had a serious crush on MC. He knew that, the twins knew that; Hell, the whole RFA probably knew, except for MC. As loving, wonderful, outgoing and perfect as Yoosung found MC, there was no denying that she was ridiculously oblivious. Either that or she had an incredible poker face... that she kept on at all times.

Yoosung had beliefs in both theories.

Before he could answer, his stomach did it for him and MC laughed, having heard the slight grumble through the phone.

"Alright, that's that then. Saeyoung left a few minutes ago so you've probably got about-"

/ding-dong/

"..."

"He's already there, isn't he."

"... Yeah. Yeah, he is."

/knock-knock-knock/

"... you better answer it before he breaks the door down."

After saying their goodbyes, Yoosung sighed and rubbed a slightly irritated hand over his face before stumbling out of bed and going to his apartment door. After opening it, he went to welcome his best friend only to be pulled into a hard chest that smelt of car oil, honey Buddha chips and strangely enough, MC's favourite perfume.

"Ahhh, my small child, so grown up! Stop it! Stop growing up this instant!"

Yoosung let Saeyoung ruffle his hair lovingly before pushing away from the slightly older male, fixing him with a tired look before letting him inside. Saeyoung whistled low, looking at the surprisingly clean apartment with proud eyes.

"You expecting some company, Yoo? The last time I saw your place looking this clean was when MC came - oh. Oh, hohoho, you sly boy!"

Yoosung groaned, embarrassed and blushing while managing to slip away before Saeyoung could wrangle him into a suffocating grip once more. "Shut up Saeyoung! You don't know shit!"

Saeyoung laughed hysterically, falling into the world's comfiest couch as Yoosung got changed, the birthday boy feeling proud that he'd showered the night before so he'd be ready to get his day on with right away.

"Oh Yoosung my boy, I know so much more than you think. MC's favourite colour, for instance."

Yoosung had been two seconds away from slipping his shirt on when he froze at Saeyoung's words, his head popping out of his room to stare his friend down until the older man elaborated.

With a smug smirk, Saeyoung spilt the beans with a terrible vocal mockery of who Yoosung assumed was MC.

"My favourite colour is purple, just like Yoosungie's eyes! They're such a pretty purple too! I'm almost jealous cause he gets to see them every day!"

Yoosung's face was almost a shade darker than Saeyoung's hair by the time his friend finished speaking, unable to really grasp that those words actually came from MC.

"She - she said that? About me?"

Yoosung flinched at how nervous his voice sounded. Saeyoung's grin faltered and he sighed softly, giving his best friend a gentle smile before nodding. "I swear Yoosung, that's what she said. I know how you feel about her bro, I wouldn't screw around with something like that."

Giving Saeyoung a grin, Yoosung then finished getting dressed and before long, both boys were out the door and driving back to the bunker. As Saeyoung parked, Yoosung finished off his coffee - courtesy of the hacker who was tired of hearing his blonde friend yawn every thirty seconds - before tossing the empty cup into the recycling bin, which only existed thanks to MC. Heading inside, Yoosung almost immediately noticed how dark it was and frowned, turning to question Saeyoung who had startlingly disappeared into thin air.

Whipping his head back and forth, Yoosung began to panic, slowly trying to make his way further into the bunker. "Saeyoung, this isn't funny," he started, following the wall the led into the living room.

Once in the room, he let out a shriek as the lights suddenly came on and the whole RFA appeared before him with a shout of,

"Happy birthday!"

He was so startled that he stumbled back, nearly falling to the ground if it hadn't been for MC who moved quickly enough to catch his hand and steady him. She tugged him to her and into a tight hug, trying to quiet her laughter as she pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Happy birthday Yoosung," she murmured to him, unfazed by how beet red his face was from his near death experience - at least that's what he would call it.

She moved away to let the rest of the members wish him birthday wishes, giving him their gifts and birthday cards, which he excitedly accepted with gracious thanks. Before long, everyone was digging into breakfast and lunch foods, thanks to some hookups MC had with her dearest friend Jumin who couldn't ever say no to her.

After food was eaten and presents were opened, everyone eventually said their goodbyes and made their ways home, leaving the twins, Yoosung and MC in the bunker. The rest of the day consisted of terrible scary movies (that somehow actually scared Yoosung), junk food and left over goodies from earlier.

It was nearing supper time now and MC found herself cleaning up the mess from the party and whatever leftovers remained, getting everything put away and tidy in less than an hour with Vanderwood's help. She threw the ex agent a grateful look who gave her a small smile and a nod in return before making his way to the garage. Smoke time, probably.

Saeyoung and Yoosung were head to head against each other in Smash Brothers, Saeran having retired to his room probably while she had been cleaning, which left open a perfect butt-shaped spot right beside Yoosung. Silently making her way over to them with her gift, she sat beside Yoosung who was too into the game to notice but she did catch the wink Saeyoung threw her way. Sneaky little bastard.

"Oh-oh Oh!! Yes!!"

Yoosung shot up like a bullet from the couch, hands raised in the air as if he'd won a gold metal, wearing the widest grin that either of the members had ever seen on him. He danced in his spot, causing MC to burst out laughing which caused him to freeze and slowly turn his head to look at her.

"... how long have you been there?" He'd asked the question so quietly she almost didn't hear him, giving him The Look before pulling him back down to the couch.

"Oh don't look so embarrassed! You kicked Saeyoung's ass, you're allowed to celebrate and be happy!"

Speaking of, Saeyoung rose from the couch with a yawn before gently tossing his controller down beside Yoosung on the couch. "Eh, sorry guys, I forgot I had some shit I wanted to finish - you're more than welcome to stay, the spare bedroom is all set up if you do stay." MC couldn't tell if this was a ploy or if the hacker was genuinely tired. Either way, she thanked him to high heavens and back for the chance to be with Yoosung for a bit.

Waving at the two, Saeyoung made his way to his computer room and shut the door, whistling a happy tune that caused both on the couch to roll their eyes. After a moment, MC took Yoosungs hands before placing a medium sized package in his palms, a card taped to the top that had his name written elegantly across it. He looked to her, surprised, but she simply shook her head, motioning for him to open the gift. She sat silently, almost nervously as he placed the card aside before ripping away at the wrapping, her thumbs twiddling in her own lap to keep her from bouncing her leg anxiously.

The moment the box was open, she knew she'd made the right choice. A rare LOLOL figure sat inside the box, along with a new pin for his sweater that held a phrase from the game, and a knitted scarf that matched the colour scheme of his avatar. His mouth dropped open in silent excitement and before she knew it, the box was placed beside the card and she was pulled into a surprisingly strong embrace, which she returned whole heartedly. He was shaking in her grasp, causing her to try and pull back to look at him but he only held her tighter, sniffling softly as he hid his face in the crook of her neck. She felt moisture and knew right away he was crying. She rubbed his back lovingly, a small smile on her lips as she gently asked,

"Why are you crying honey?"

For a while, there was only silence from him. The near-graduation student simply held tight, almost as if she'd disappear from him if he let go. Then, softly, he finally murmured to her,

"I'm crying because you listen to me... I'm crying because you always know what I'm looking for... I'm crying because my heart has so much love for you that I'm scared I'll lose you and I don't even have you."

MC's eyes widened, her hands stilling on his back as she took in the gravity of his words. He... loved her? Her? Of all people? She forced Yoosung to look at her, her eyes trying looking to his, though it was hard when he refused to make direct eye contact.

"Please look at me," she begged quietly, surprised when he immediately gave her all his attention, though his face was dark red. Searching his expression for any form of dishonesty, it only took a moment as she found none and couldn't stop the flow of tears that began.

"You- you really love me?"

Yoosungs brows furrowed worriedly. Why was she crying?! Was it bad that he had feelings for her? He then stopped and thought back to his apartment, his brows furrowing further as he remembered smelling MC on Saeyoung when he hugged him... no. Don't think like that, Saeyoung wouldn't do that to you, he's your best friend-

"I've been waiting so long to hear you say that."

Yoosungs brain froze as their eyes made contact once more. His expression was blank, almost hysterically so, as he slowly asked,

"... what?"

MC giggled under her breath, albeit a bit nervously, before gently grabbing his face and pulling him into the best kiss he'd ever gotten. And considering it was his first real kiss, he knew that it didn't matter how many times he'd kiss her, that first one changed his life forever. When she pulled back, he only gave her a moment before pulling her into his lap, one hand on her hip and the other in her hair as his lips found hers once more. A few moments passed before either pulled away this time, breathing a little heavy as their foreheads met one another's.

"MC,"

Her eyes met his vibrant purple ones and she smiled, the sight causing his heart to melt on the spot.

"Yes, my wonderful birthday man?"

He grinned in response and gave her another kiss, this one quicker but none less loving before he thanked her,

"Thank you for giving me the best birthday ever. I love you."

She gave a watery chuckle as tears began again, causing Yoosung to repeat the sound himself before they kissed once more, holding each other tightly like a puzzle fitting together. "I love you," she whispered into the kiss, pulling back only to dive in and give him kiss after kiss after kiss.

"Happy birthday Yoosung. I can't wait to see what next year will bring for you."

#mandiespeaks #mandiewrites #yoosung kim #mysme yoosung #mysme writings #oh my god i did it guys #i did the fucking thing #im going to try and put a readmore but since im on mobile it may not work #but i swear im tryin !#whew oh god ok now to get my hands to stop shaking 😂😂😂#my birthday booiiiiiii #happy birthday yoosung!!!

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winmance · 5 years

Text

Trust in me - Chapter 29 : Pillow Fort

Jensen is sitting on a chair, holding Jared’s hand while the other is rubbing his hair. It’s not the best position, with his head resting on Jared’s lap, but he wants to be as close to him as possible.

“Hey” Jared says, trying to open his eyes. He’s still too tired to stay awake, but he tries. “What day it is?”

“Monday” Jensen replies, pulling Jared's hand to his lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Tired of being here”

“The doc said it won’t be long”

“They said that two days ago” Jared complains, “The food isn’t even good”

“My poor baby” He mocked before kissing him, “There’s no point in you going home right now, I have too many things to do”

“Things that I can’t know about?”

“Things that you can’t know about” Jensen replies, pushing his hair behind his ears.

Jared doesn’t complain and Jensen is grateful for that. It’s been a week and a half since they arrested Ventimiglia, but unfortunately, it was just the beginning of a long and hard road to a conviction.

They need to write long detailed reports listing evidence, witnesses and their different testimonies, forensics, lab reports, video and audio analysis, phone records, all in order to explain to the jury what happened and how. Then hopefully they come to the conclusion that Ventimiglia was responsible for all of it.

But it’s like digging into a never ending hole. The drug traffic leads to murders, which leads to robberies, which leads to prostitution and even human trafficking. Ventimiglia was big, Jensen knew that, but every day they find new evidence that implicates him in activities that are even darker and more disgusting.

Even more than that, the fact that an agent was part of such a business is causing a lot of issues. How many cases did he interfere with? How much evidence did he destroy or tamper with? How long has he been doing it?

From what they know now, Trevor has been on Ventimiglia's payroll since before joining Jensen’s team, but he wasn't as able to get by with as much on Jensen's team as he'd been able to with his previous boss. So he slowed down a little, knowing that Jensen was watching every move he made. That was until he saw Jared at the police station.

It was his chance to make his move in Ventimiglia's organization. He tracked every move Jensen made with Jared and reported it all back to Ventimiglia. When it came time to snatch Jared, Trevor was able to swap phone numbers in JDM's phone insuring Jensen had no idea he was being watched. The only hitch in his plan was Jared recognizing him even through the drug induced haze Ventimiglia had him in. In the end it would be Trevor making a deal with the DA to testify against Ventimiglia that puts the final nail in his coffin. One regret Trevor has is that it is Jensen he has to tell everything to. And see the look of betrayal on his face as he does.

The fact that Jared is a victim means Jensen has to take particular care with the case. Jensen needs to do things that he knows Jared wouldn’t understand or would make him feel ashamed. Yesterday Jensen had to listen to Ventimiglia tell him in horrific detail all the awful things he did to Jared over the time he knew him. Jensen had to write everything down so it could be use against Ventimiglia at trial. He will never tell Jared what he knows, even if he could. He wants him to be able to keep what little pride he still has.

“How are your feet?” Jensen asks

“It still hurts when I walk”

“Then don’t” He says, “Rest, you don’t need to walk right now anyway”

“You’re not the one glued to the bed” Jared points out

Jensen bites his lip before getting up.

“Scoot over” He says “Come on, hurry”

Jared did as he was told, a wide smile on his face when he realizes what Jensen is doing.

The nurse is gonna kill him, but seeing Jared happy is worth it.

He slides into the bed, Jared finding a spot in his arms right away.

“Now we’re both glued to the bed”

“Emilie is gonna kill you” Jared laughs “She said you couldn’t do this”

“Only if she finds out”

Jared laughs softly, pressing himself closer to Jensen until one of his legs is over his and his head resting on his chest. Jensen slides his fingers in his hair and starts rubbing his scalp, knowing all too well how much Jared loves it.

“I hope I get better soon” Jared says “I want to be there for your ceremony”

“How do you know about that?”

“Derek told me” He says “He came in the other day”

“He did?”

“Yeah. He’s nice”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing really, just wanted to introduce himself properly. So did I” He grimaces, thinking back to the day he met Derek. “He said that there will be a ceremony to thank you for arresting Ventimiglia. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not going. Nothing to be proud of”

“I disagree” Jared frowns “You saved me, Jensen”

“It happened because I didn’t protect you”

“It happened because Ventimiglia is a bad guy, and because he was my client to begin with. You saved me, you came for me, and you arrested him. There’s a lot to be proud of”

Even though he disagreed, Jensen doesn’t protest. He knows that Jared is right, but he still feels like he failed him, Jared still suffered because of him, and there’s no way he’ll ever forgive himself for that. Him finding where Ventimiglia and his men were was nothing but luck. He remembered Shawn telling him about the house on the mountain, the biggest house he'd ever seen, with a pool and Jacuzzis in every bedroom. He also told him about the stripper pole in one of the rooms, and Jensen knew instantly that if Ventimiglia took Jared anywhere, that would be it. The biggest, brightest, and most luxurious house he could find.

“I need a suit” Jared points out “Can’t really go with my short-shorts, can I?”

“No indeed” Jensen laughs “I need to go to work, but I can leave you my credit card”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Buy anything you want. Well, don’t buy a tv or anything like that, though. But feel free to buy, I don’t know, dishes or things like that. I planned on going to the store but if you find things online, that’s good for me”

Jared smiles, one of his hands coming to cup Jensen’s face has he guides him closer to him until they kiss.

“Thank you, for trusting me” He says, going for another kiss. “I’m gonna buy at least fifteen pillows”

“Please don’t”

“I love pillows” Jared says, taking the computer Jensen lent him “Would you rather have pink or purple ones?”

“I’m gonna regret this aren't I?”

Jared laughs as Jensen pulls him closer, kissing the top of his head.

“Buy as many as you want, love” Jensen says, “We can always do a pillow fort if we have too much of them”

“When do you leave for work?” Jared asks, a little bit of hope in his voice

“Not until you’re ready to go back to sleep”

He spent the rest of the day in Jared’s bed, going over different websites to find items that satisfied both of them.

He can’t wait to get Jared home with him. Until then, dreaming about their home has to be enough.

Tags : @emmalh2001 @captainsteelandsunshine @servilesammy @mysterioushunters @jaredbootyylecki @mereka18

#Jensen/Jared #J2 fic #J2 #Trust in me #Mine

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macabreerudition · 5 years

Text

Have a Santastic Day - Chapter 1

The weather outside casts the perfect excuse for you to stay inside. You take this as a sign to go to your favorite coffee shop. They have recently hired a pair of monsters as baristas. They are working most days since monsters were not yet covered by minimum wage laws, therefore they earn less than humans. You often have prayed that the lawmakers would be intelligent and humane enough to correct that issue. The two girls have always been chipper to see their regulars and were a great pair of salespeople. Their rhyming names always stuck to the tip of your tongue until you could read the alligator girl’s name tag.

As soon as you stick your head into the warm shop, out of the dreary weather outside, Bratty greets you with her (odd enough) valley girl accent. “Oh, it’s like, _____!”

From the back counter her sister from another mister, Catty cheers, “Ohmygah, hi, _____!” She finishes the current customer’s coffee and hands it to him. “Like, have a good day, Burgerpants!” she cheers. Her kitty grin seems, even more, chipper today.

The orange tom cat monster groans and asks her to not call him that. He nods a greeting to you as he sips his coffee. After a pause to swallow the warm liquid, he smirks and asks, “Staying here for the day, ____?” You feel as though you have walked into an episode of Cheers. You nod and approach the counter and grin at the orange tom slid up beside you, “We’re still on for game night, Thursday, right?”

“Yeah, of course, man,” you answer and tap his nose. “Unless you’re gonna be a scared cat…”

He huffs in mock offense before sputtering out,“What? Me? I’d never let a group of mindless golems take my team down.” He leans in and purrs with an actual purr, “Especially for a certain archery girl that I have been keeping my eye on.” You laugh and push his face away to his slight chagrin. “You have a good day, (first letter of name). I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you chuckle, waving at him. “Stay out of trouble, cool cat.” You grin at his soft cough and shy glance away as he heads out the door. If he weren’t always smoking and hitting on everything that moves, I’d consider it. You wave at the gator girl, Bratty and giggle, “How have you been today?”

“It’s been, like, super dead today,” Bratty begins, letting Catty take over the answer, without hesitation.

The purple cat-like girl giggles from the blender as she fills up a cup of a smoothie for the drive-thru,”Yeah, and we’re, like, so bored, here. It’s so lame without someone around, ya know?”

“Yeah, that’s why we love it when you come around,” Bratty continues. “So, the usual?” She means if you were going to the house coffee that you usually covered up with sugar and creamer. It was cheap and you got free refills for it. But, you're craving something sweeter today.

You glance up and see that their menu has expanded since the last time you were here… or the last time you actually looked at the board. You shake your head, “How about a cappuccino? Frozen?”

“We have caramel, french vanilla, mocha, or mint chocolate for those, so far!” Catty cheers from the other side of the bakery display. She starts rearranging the scones with altered plastic gloves on. The alteration was primitive, making them plastic mitts, but it still allows the girls to work with proper sanitation protocols. “I suggest the mocha, it’s so delicious!”

“Ohmygosh, yes,” coos Bratty. “Or, the vanilla one is really good with, like, the orange-cranberry scones. I love the combination so much!”

“I’ll take those,” you chirp, feeling the overflow of energy from the pair. “That sounds interesting.” You know that Bratty and Catty usually have a good sense of taste. “Have you had more business since you guys opened up at least?” You lean against the partition on the serving station as Bratty rings you up. Her painted claws types out the prices and adds tax after figuring it on a worn out calculator. She tells you a simple 'thanks' as you pay two dollars and some change, telling her to split the remainder with Catty.

After receiving your goods, you bring your bag and jacket to your previously claimed corner of four large, squat armchairs around a square wood table. You curl into the corner and a boot up your computer. After a few moments of fighting with wires, your earbuds are plugged in and placed into your ears. The world slowly fades.

After a half-hour of working, you are distracted by a small, scaly claw waving over the top of your computer. You pause and save everything before responding. You smile at the squat dinosaur monster and ask sweetly, “Yes?”

She fiddles with her own claws and asks in a raspy, squeaky voice, “I’m-I’m so sorry to bother you.” What a nervous little thing. I feel like I should know her... “B-but, I n-noticed that you are here al-almost every day. An-and, you seem really cool from wh-what the baristas say… and…” She pauses to look, back to a blue fishwoman. She gives bright, shark-toothed smile and a thumbs up, holding a box of pastries and a cup carrier with three cups with her freehand. She nods and continues, “I was wondering if you would like to hang out with my girlfriend and our friends and me sometime?”

You blink and look to the fish punk with some curiosity. She raises a brow and waves a hand towards you with a crooked grin. You shrug and nod, answering gently, “You both seem friendly, why not?”

“Re-really?” the clementine dino-dragon nerd enthusiastically asks. “M-may I… may I see your phone?” After you hand it to her, she motions for her girlfriend over and they take a selfie together. The fishlady kisses her girlfriend’s blushing cheek before the light flashed. The dragon? huffs and types onto your phone. Her girlfriend barks a boisterous laugh. “I-I added myself there… with our picture.” She hands it back and blushes darker before adding, “Oh! I’m Alphys and this is my girlfriend. “ You nod and raise a brow at the familiarity that you felt from seeing them together, even.

“I’m Undyne,” the aquatic maid introduces herself in a rough, airy tone. She holds her hand out with a smug grin. You take her hand, only to gasp out your name as she crushes your hand. “Sorry, I’m not used to wimps,” she chuckles with a sympathetic expression. She glances down when her girlfriend elbows her in the hip, glances at what Alphys was pointing out, and immediately groans. “You may be cool, but you and another nerd in our group will like each other. You both like puns.”

You rose your brow and look at the shirt. Right… You gave them a sheepish grin and ask, “What can I say? I wear my heart on my sleeve…” Alphys giggles and Undyne groans, picking up the reptilian woman. You wave nonchalantly, still trying to place where you know them. Perhaps they are fellow patrons of the coffee stop?

Undyne hollers over her shoulder as she exits the building, “She’s gonna message you, nerd. Later!” You waved good-bye back to the giggling Alphys, a shit-eating grin on your face.

Catty and Bratty excitedly chat between them as soon as the door closes. “OMYGAH, they are gonna love her! She is gonna fit in with them!” cheers Catty.

Bratty giggles and adds, “We’re the best at matchmaking, but, like, for friends!”

“Thanks, ladies!” you call from your spot. “I guess y’all know I was feeling bonely .” You stand up to reveal your T-shirt with a ‘winking’ skeleton on a pirate ship on it, with the caption of I can tell you a skele-ton about my ships!

Out of curiosity, you look up Alphys on a social website nearly everyone you knew from the Underground would use. It wasn’t exclusive to Monsters, but not many humans had an account there. Sure enough, it was easy enough to find the pair’s profiles. Something sparks your interest in Alphys bio section. She was the former Royal Scientist and now works on your campus. You snap your fingers. You knew she looked familiar. She worked in a department near where you usually lurked on campus. You liked her latest status talking about how she was trying to drag one of her friends back into the ‘dark side’, meaning science, and calling him a bonehead for not just breaking down already. And comment that you’d be glad to drag someone down with them. With your socialization quota met for the day, you went back pouring over and organizing your notes. Graduation was only two months away, and you had to prove that all the time, effort, money, and tutoring was not for naught. You chuckle at your own word play and mutter to yourself about offering that to Alphys and her boneheaded friend. But, despite your best efforts to remain anti-social and productive, your profile was, for once, busy with the interactions between you, Alphys, and her friend who calls himself “Bone Tired” instead of a real name. Then again, you couldn’t tell if that was a real name with most monsters having unusual monikers compared to humans.

#Sans x Reader #Sans #Undertale Fanfiction #Fanfiction

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