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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

312 notes · View notes

authornina · 3 years

Text

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know.

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already.

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car.

“Nothing.”

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.”

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie.

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!”

“You need Jesus!”

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.”

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!”

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!”

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman.

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!”

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.”

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.”

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways.

“I lay with you too.”

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing.

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted.

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started.

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass!

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit!

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old.

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.”

“I ain’t wit no bitch.”

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.”

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.”

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.”

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.”

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.”

“Like what?”

“Shit.”

“You lyin’.”

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.”

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!”

“Who ugly, Mansion?”

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.”

“I told her that.”

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!”

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?”

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!”

“What she do that damn fast?”

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!”

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building.

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending.

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?”

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—”

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!”

“They don’t wanna see you.”

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby.

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!”

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.”

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back.

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it.

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely.

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.”

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?”

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

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anythingbutmar · 3 years

Text

The other Sandy

Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Every year you come up with amazing costume ideas for you and your best friend, it’s your thing! Or at least it used to be until he dumped you for a complete stranger.

Prompt: 2. “we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and I’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realizing Feelings”

A/N: TO THE ANON WHO SENT THIS REQUEST I’M SO SO SORRY I HATE MYSELF FOR THIS. I hope you still enjoy it a month later :/. The ending kinda sucks so I’m sorry about that too.

Warnings: a little bit of angst, swearing.

“What’s wrong dear?” Your mother asked as she entered your room and saw you staring at your phone with a frown.

“Harry hasn’t been answering me.” You pouted at her.

“He’s probably busy honey, you know he had that camping thing. What’s so important anyways?”

“Halloween’s this weekend! And I don’t know if he approves of my idea! Besides, he doesn’t seem busy, he’s perfectly available to read my texts, he just keeps ignoring me.”

Your mom stroked your cheek, probably thinking about just how spoiled you are. “Maybe he’s going with that girl he’s dating, Candance was it?”

“They’re not dating mom! They’re just sort of… seeing each other.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure he’ll show up wearing whatever costume you tell him to as he does every year.” She smiled reassuringly. “That boy really should set some boundaries.” She laughed as she left your room.

You decided to listen to your mother, if Harry wasn’t answering he probably had a good reason, and he already knew what to wear, so you just hoped he would follow through, or else you’d be looking like a complete idiot, and after three years of winning couple’s costumes at Emma’s party, you knew all eyes would be on you.

The rest of the week flew by, and soon you found yourself locked in your bathroom with a curling iron on your hand, thinking about the past years and how everyone always thought you were together because of your chemistry. You smiled at the mirror, loving you you looked with red lips and a black leather jacket: the living image of Sandy Olsson

You grabbed your car keys and your purse and kissed your mom goodbye before leaving your house.

“Bring Harry after the party’s over darling, I want to take a picture!” Your mom yelled from her bedroom door and you gave her a thumbs up as you entered your car.

The road was nice, which was great for you since you were already running late and there were butterflies roaming on your stomach. You told yourself you were just anxious about the party but you were starting to think there might have been something else going on, you had a bad feeling that you couldn’t shake off.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you knocked twice and Emma opened with a look of pity through her skull makeup. “Y/N, babe! Come in!” She faked a smile and you couldn’t understand why, because as soon as your gaze turned to the living room, everything felt just fine.

There he was, handsome as ever with his slicked back hair, that tight white shirt, matching leather jacket and... Sandy clinging to his arm. Your worst Skins UK nightmares came true when you reminded how Michelle found

It was perfect, small blonde Candance and tattooed, blue eyed Harry. You hated to admit it but they both looked extremely attractive and that’s what hurt most. You would never be the Sandy to his Danny because you weren’t good enough.

“Y/N wait!” You heard behind you as you walked back to your car with tears in your eyes. It had started raining but you couldn’t care less, the night was over for you anyways.

Or at least it was until Harry grabbed your arm and you turned around with a murderous look. You had no right to be mad at him for dating someone but being furious was better than admitting you were just sad because he wasn’t yours. “No Harry, it’s alright! I couldn’t care less that you ignored me for a week! I don’t mind at all that you let me embarrass myself in front of everyone! You could’ve just told me you were coming with Candance and that’s it you twat!” You raised your voice at him, standing on your tiptoes so you could look at him dead in the eyes.

“No, wait love, you don’t understand, my friends wouldn’t let me answer any of your texts! Or anyone’s for that matter.”

“Oh god, you’re so full of shit! You know what? That costume suits you perfectly! You’re that fuckboy who thinks he can play around with everyone’s feelings and then lie to their face!” You were pushing the wrong buttons by calling him that but you didn’t care, you just wanted to make him angry, as angry as you were.

“Oh really? And now you’re gonna say that Candance is a bitch like Rizzo?!” His chest moved along with his harsh breathing and, for a second, you couldn’t look away from the butterfly under his wet shirt. That bastard knew how to be distracting.

“Of course not! You know I think Rizzo’s a highly misunderstood character! And for the record, I actually think that we can both fit the Sandy costume pretty well! After all, we’re both silly girls who fell for you!” You were now yelling and all eyes were on you, you caught Candance’s compassionate gaze and felt bad for her, she didn’t deserve any drama. “Let’s go Candance, I’m gonna buy you some ice cream.” You pouted, letting go of Harry’s hand.

“You fell for me?” Your eyes went wide as you realized why everyone was on the doorstep. You had just confessed to feelings that you were only now acknowledging to yourself in front of everyone you knew.

“No I didn’t.” You spluttered out but it was too late, Harry was already closing the space between you two. He pushed you against the car door and wasted no time in kissing you like the world was about to end.

His mouth felt so damn soft against yours, and his cold hands on your back were making you see stars with your eyes closed. It was ethereal, there was no other way to explain it. It felt like you had been waiting ages for this to happen, like that kiss was everything you’d ever wanted and maybe it was, maybe you were in denial about feelings that were now too strong to hide.

Harry pulled away and placed his hand on the back of your neck, staring at you with that charming smile of his. “You know, Candance and I were just talking about how it was such a coincidence that we were dressed up like this.” He chuckled lightly. “Her girlfriend’s right there.” He pointed towards the house and you just noticed a tall girl with a pink ladies jacket and a Rizzo wig, who waved at you along with Candance.

“Oh, I see.” You waved back, turning red with shame.

“Well I know who’s winning the contest for the fourth year in a row!” Exclaimed Emma from inside her house. “Our favorite drenched couple!” Everyone laughed with her and you turned back to kiss Harry again.

“Oh shit!” You suddenly realized.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked, making you swoon.

“Mom wants to see you later! And I can’t exactly take you with all that red lipstick on your face!”

“I can just wipe it off if you want me to.”

“I don’t know about that, it looks kinda good on you.” You both laughed before you went back inside the house with your hands intertwined.

And now you had no intention to ever leave his side.

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zankivich · 4 years

Text

An Unexpected Romance: Chris Evans x Black! Female Reader Part 1

a/n: *sticks head out* omg hi. It’s been a while. A long while. Somehow I am back writing for another white man, a different one this time. We can only hope he does not disappoint as drastically as the last one does. I genuinely have no idea if this is good? I think it’s kinda cute, and I’ve been feeling very traumatized in regards to blackness lately so I really needed some black and brown women having a good time and being happy. We deserve that tbh. There could obvi be another part to this. Let me know if anyone even cares enough for that lol. Okay bye now.

Part 2 Part 3

There’s an unspoken rule amongst you and your friends. Like a secret code, if you will. If a man hits on you at the bar and you’re not interested, and friends always know when you’re not interested, swarm and diffuse the situation. But? If a man hits on you at the bar and you are interested? Then that is a different story entirely.

It was a Thursday night out with the girls. You were at your favorite bar. It was quiet and quaint but still modern enough to attract a younger crowd. Sometimes there’s nothing better than getting dressed up and sipping on drinks with your girls. No dancing or club hopping or excessive uber rides. Just one bar, shit talk, and a lot of bacardi.

You were all sat directly at the bar in high standing chairs, Your back was turned to the entrance as you listened intently to your friend Tanya complain about her latest Hinge hook up.

“Can you believe I took my fine ass self all the way over to that nigga’s house in satin shorts? Satin! And he had a pizza box on his bedside table and the second he laid me down my back hit a bong. Make it make sense Jesus.”

Tanya was a beautiful Black woman. She was taller than all of you at six feet, and she strutted every step. Her skin was deep espresso and she was almost always rocking a vibrant colored wig that matched a vibrant colored outfit. Tonight’s color was lavender.

“I don’t know how many times we have to tell ya ass to stay away from them white boys.” You snorted, sticking your tongue out in search of your straw.

Your friends, Tanya, Raya, and Jesse all did a collective eye roll in your direction that did not go unnoticed.

“Yes ladies?” You asked with a straightened spine and arched brow.

Jesse was one of them girls you would have hated in high school. Skinny waist, slim thick thighs, and skin so clear that her Puertio Rican skin was only left to dazzle and shine. She had long, tight curls that hung all the way down to her belly button, and she always kept them gelled down and tied back. She, like all of your friends, did not hold back when it came to the group. You were honest, thick as thieves, and frankly a little brutal.

“You don’t even count. Your refusal to go near a white man is excessive and weird.” She cackled. “You're just as bad as Tanya, just on the other end of the spectrum sis.”

“Excuse me? Now Tanya dates boys...I date men. You see the difference? And if I am gone lie in some ivory sheets there’s gonna have to be some extra special attention being paid to me. And trust, there always is.”

You stuck your tongue out lewdly and laughed sending the whole table into a fit of giggles. You all clinked your glasses together and revelled in the atmosphere of melanin, acceptance, and tomfoolery. What a group.

“You tellin’ me that if a fine ass man walked in here right now and checked every box: his own money, his own car, intelligent, funny, etcetera, and he just happened to be of the vanilla variety you wouldn’t bite?” Raya asked.

Raya was the thickest of the group, voluptuous in every sense of the word and also the only one happily married. She just put up with y’all honestly.

You rolled your eyes through with the conversation already.

“I’m saying...he’d have to be pretty fucking special and pretty fucking dedicated. Men are a headache as it is. I don’t need the added layer of some man pulling at my weave like I’m Lilly Ane from his hometown, or asking me to do race play in the bedroom. Now I’m going to the bathroom and when I come back I’d like for us to talk about literally anything else? Okay? Okay.”

You slid out of your seat and headed for the bathroom with the grace and power of a woman in her thirties who had managed the insecurities of her younger self and had decided to only live her life revelling in her own excellence.

If Tayna was the darkest of the group you weren't at all far behind. If she was expresso, you were simply an americano with a dash of cream. And you rocked it with a full head of curls that ranged from nappy to bursting with life and moisture depending on both the day and temperature. It was all set upon the shoulders of a woman with curves and hips and chest. It was your body and you loved it endlessly, a matter quite evident in the way you walked.

That night you were wearing a coral pink jumpsuit with a long, flowy kimono and heels to match. Your kimono billowed behind you and made you feel fierce, even on the walk to the bathroom, which is perhaps why you weren’t paying that much attention. One second you’re strutting in the heels that you only wore when there wouldn’t be too much standing, and the next you’re slipping on some liquid that must have been spilt on the floor. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. The wind flew out of your lungs. This was the end…

And then you were caught by the waist. Not caught, more like gripped. Firmly. And perhaps not the waist so much as the hips. You expected to be lying straight on the floor staring up at the ceiling, and instead you were staring at a chest. A firm chest. No not firm. Chiseled might be a better description. So chiseled that your hands began to wander amongst the suit clad flesh before your mind had caught up with you. Heafer.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I can’t believe I--”

You peered up into deep blue eyes and let’s not forget that your fingers were still wandering along that chest. Had a chest ever been so broad? No. Not unless you count Captain America apparently.

“Please, I always like to pull a rescue mission before dinner. Makes me feel like I earned my meal.” He grinned down at you.

Chris Evans. What are even the statistical chances? You wouldn’t know, you were too busy drooling.

His hands were still on your hips. Yours still on his chest. And now you were just plain staring at him. Good look.

A waiter with a towel to clean up the mess broke up the moment by clearing their throat and alerting the two of you that you were way too close to one another still.

“Oh--Oh.” You mumbled idiotically. “You’re…”

He nodded. “Chris. And you are?”

“I’m...I’m…”

The waiter snickered under their breath and you realized just how much you were ruining this moment. You straightened your spine and tried to act like you had some sort of sense.

“I’m y/n. Thank you again for the save. I was actually just on my way to the bathroom so I’ll uh let you get back to your night and try not to fall on you again.” You smiled.

“Yea, we definitely wouldn’t want that would we?” He asked.

But the way his face was looking told you maybe he might not mind it after all. Sheesh.

“Okay well uh you have a nice night, Chris.”

You tapped at his hands on your hips and he quickly stumbled back with an apology. It was the first time he looked even the slightest bit flustered in your interaction with him. You found that you liked it.

“You have a nice night too, y/n.”

You smiled at him one final time before walking to the bathroom as you had intended. But he didn't leave your mind the entire time you were there. And not just because it was Chris Evans, it didn’t feel fair to call it star struck. That was too simple, too miniscule. Instead it was the way his hands had felt on your hips. You had the tendency to lean away from men, didn’t feel comfortable with them when you didn't know who they were. And yet there you had stood, completely at ease in his hold. You couldn’t explain it even to yourself. He had just felt right.

“Of course he felt right, he’s practically a figment of your imagination.” You mumbled to yourself at the sinks.

That was it. He didn’t even count. The only time you ever saw him was on your netflix account, so surely your perception was warped. The reality was that Chris Evans was just another white man who looked good in a sweater. The end.

That’s what you convinced yourself as you walked back to your friend, but not without taking extra precautions against the floor. By the time you arrived back at your table you had done the mental gymnastics needed to completely eliminate him from your system. Good girl.

“Now, I trust you all found something better to talk about while I was away.” You grinned as you slid back into the table.

All of your friends were snickering behind their hands and they wasted no time at all laughing at you.

“Oh did we!” Jesse laughed. “You see we had just moved on to a new topic when a little someone got a drink delivered to the table.”

Your eyes widened as Jesse pushed a glass of what looked like processo closer your way. She then pointed over by the bar leading the entire table to turn that way. Seated by his seat with his arms leaning against the bar, shoulders even broader against the wood, was none other than Chris Evans himself. As if on a Hollywood cue he turned to look at you with a smile that was both innocent and filthy at the same time. He lifted a drink of his own in the air and tilted it in your direction in silent cheers. If you had been ten shades lighter you’da blushed like a schoolgirl. It was ridiculous.

“Now...What was that you were saying about white boys sis?” Tanya asked.

You groaned to yourself softly and plopped your head down in your hands in embarrassment. This was only to notice that your sparkling glass of prosecco was perched upon a napkin with his phone number written upon it. Home boy was slick and he was bold. A man confident enough to come put himself out there, and respectful enough to do it in a way that wasn’t disruptive or rude to your friends nor yourself. It was the sort of thing that made you take notice for sure, which explained why your girlfriends were looking at you like cats that had just discovered the canary.

“What? What?! What?” You gasped at the table, clearly annoyed.

Jesse grinned. “What’chu mean ‘what’, mija! You gone get your mans or what?”

They all giggled and looked clearly in his direction, only embarrassing you further.

“Stop it!” You hissed. “He is not ‘my mans’ by any stretch of the imagination. He probably just feels bad for me slipping. I fell and he caught me. Clearly he’s a gentleman, which is nice but that don’t mean nothin.”

“Girl please! This man done sent you prosecco and a phone number. That’s like a rich modern version of a love letter. You better go talk to that man.” Raya snorted.

Women who hype up other women are the world’s greatest treasure. You loved your friends with everything in you, and you valued all of their intellects greatly. However, this was not a regular-degular man. This was literally a superhero. You had confidence for days, but this was simply a different stratosphere. You were just about to silence your friends again when a ghost must have descended because everyone else began to gasp.

“Girl he movin’. Captain America is comin in for the landing.” Raya stage-whispered.

“Oooo you know what? Suddenly I have to pee.” Tanya mumbled.

“Oh me too!” Jesse nodded.

And just like that….your table was empty. The audacity!

“Wow. I sure can clear a room huh?” He chuckled, stepping up beside you. “I hope I don’t offend too much.”

You sighed turning to face him head on.

“You certainly do not offend. In fact, I think my friends are around some corner cackling like the witches they are. They just wanted to give you space to shoot your shot.”

He smiled with a raised eyebrow. “My shot, huh? I better not fuck it up them.”

You shrugged, eyes raking gently over him. Beyond the obvious attraction, it was important for you to search for any warning signs. His body language was good. He had one hand draped over the back of your chair, but he stood two steps back from the table so that he wasn’t over-crowding your space. He seemed to be aware of himself physically, an important marker in your estimation. He was playful enough, but also clearly interested if he’d decided to come up to the table after all that. This did not bode well for you at all. The man was kinda nice.

“I just wanted to see if you were enjoying your drink is all.”

Your fingers flitted with the glass before pulling it to your lips for a sip. The way his eyes seemed to follow the motion had a heat pooling in your gut.

“I do enjoy a good prosecco.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. I didn’t want to be too forward but uh--I think you’re stunning and I was wondering if I could take you out sometime.” He murmured.

Your legs were crossed in your seat, and you bobbed your leg a little, anxiety coursing through you.

“Were you afraid the number on the napkin was too subtle?”

He chuckled softly, eyes falling to the ground in an almost...embarrassed fashion? Lord, please.

“Sorry, I tend to second guess myself. I never know how people are gonna take me with my line of work. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to set up a one night stand or something. Wanted to show you I’m genuinely interested.”

Well that was unnervingly wholesome. Where they get this man from?

You let a small grin form across your mouth, a metaphorical step forward closer to his very inviting energy.

“Well, I do like the sound of stunning.”

“Yea? I think I could say some other stuff you’d like too if you give me a chance. What do you say?”

He licked the edge of his lip and it really was so miniscule but it had your thighs tightening in a way that was unholy. Rude.

You couldn’t say yes just off principle. Ten minutes ago you had just shamed all your friends for their white proclivities and the first one that walks off the street and bats his eyelashes at you causes you to cave? The hypocrisy! But...he was fine. Like capital “F” fine. Fwine with a “w”, fine. And it’s not like he was going to take you home to pizza boxes and lost bongs and then hit you up for gas money later. He was more set in his life than you were. Him being rich wasn’t even for you to utilize; it just felt good to know that he was accomplished and secure for himself. Again you dated men...not boys. And yet still you found yourself in such a conundrum.

“You look hesitant.” He noted, eyes locking onto yours.

You nodded. “I am...Excuse my bluntness but I had just gotten done explaining to my friends that dating white men often comes with more hassle than good. It can be difficult to connect cross-culturally. And quite frankly y’all are usually racist and/or fetishists. I’m not looking to upset your mama, nor am I looking to play slave master in the bedroom.”

Honestly the little speech was usually enough to send weaker men running. You say the r-word to a white man when you’re a black woman and he either calls you the n-word or gets upset and walks away. That had been your experience thus far. Not always, but enough to set precedence. The fact that he bothered to stay at the table further already separates himself from the pack.

“I can understand where you’re coming from.” He nodded, and a crease formed subtly between his eyebrows. “Not that I could ever really understand, just that I understand your hesitancy towards me. And I understand that it’s more complicated for you than it is for me. I really wish it wasn’t that way, but obviously that isn’t exactly something you and I can fix together in this very moment.”

You steadied for yourself for his next words, sure that he was about to leave you with, “have a nice life, I’ve got a spandex fitting in the morning.” There was a feeling in your tummy that felt out of place. You noted absently that it was a flutter of disappointment. And then he kept speaking.

“I don’t want to change your opinions on all white guys. I’d be willing to wager that most of us suck, and you probably should definitely steer clear.”

This caused you to snicker a little bit, a smile coming back to your face. He practically beamed in response, teeth coming together in a megawatt smile.

“However, I’d truly hate to never see that smile again.” He groaned and layed a firm hand against his own chest. “I don’t wanna change your mind about all of us...but maybe I can change your mind about me. I don’t want to feshitize you, I don’t want some weird power play between us. I don’t wanna do anything that would hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I just wanna take a really beautiful woman out if I could, if you’ll have me? Please? And if not, I take no as my answer and I walk away a little wounded, and you’ll still be here, stunning as always.”

Ooof. Boy was good. Real good.

You twisted your lips together and eyed him another time as if you were seeing each other for the very first time. Seemingly good guy. Persistent, not demanding. Willing to have conversations about race? Biceps the size of your head. Damn it was like the devil had crafted him especially for you.

“You know I think my friends have been spying long enough. I should probably meet up with them.” You mumbled.

You reached for the check in front of you adding your tip to your total and squaring out your tab. The way his eyes raked over you did not go unnoticed, unfelt. With the check closed and on the table you reached for one of the cocktail napkins on the table, pen still in hand, and wrote a note of your own. Sliding from your seat, you reached for the prosecco and downed the fizzy beverage before pressing the napkin to his chest with your nail. There was confusion, and perhaps a bit of hurt, in his baby blue eyes. This was gonna be some real trouble for you.

His palm came to rest over yours, trapping your fingers against his chest. There was a warmth there that seemed to leave your fingertips tingling. Definitely trouble.

“You have a nice night Chris.” You grinned.

His hand fell away from yours at the slightest movement on your part. He stood there, seemingly shell shocked, as you reached for your purse and his cocktail napkin. You almost thought he was going to let you get away as you went to step around him, only for his palm to grab gently at your hip.

“Good night y/n.” He whispered and reached to kiss chastly at your cheek.

The warmth of him was more intoxicating up close. He radiated heat like he radiated pheromones. And the smell of him was absolutely ridiculous as well. Was that gucci? Dior maybe?

It was a miracle you made it around the corner.

As to be expected, your awful ass group of friends were all standing by the hostess booth peaking around at you like a couple of dumbasses. They were lucky you loved em. You had an exit to execute though, and for that at least, they were useful.

You resumed your power walk, matched with clicking heels and a teasing pop of your hips, towards them.

“Is he watching?” You asked quietly.

They all nodded in various levels of incredulousness.

“Good. Let’s go.”

And then you walked your ass out that bar only to collapse the first second you cleared the doors. Your girls descended the way only women do, like fucking superheros of their own, and helped you float back to the car.

“Girl if you don’t start spilling A-S-A-P I swear fo’ God!” Raya gasped hands shaking on the steering wheel.

“What happened what happened what happened?!” Jesse screeched.

Your head nestled against the headrest of the car, your breathing having gone unsteady by the little game you’d just played.

“I think I just told him he can take my black ass on a date.” You mumbled in shock.

The tension in the car hit an all time high as everyone went silent...And then they all bursted out laughing as if you’d mentioned the funniest joke in the damn world.

“I KNEW IT BITCH!” Tayna screamed. “OOOOOOO BITCH I KNEW IT!”

“She finna be down with the swirl tonight, y’all!” Raya cackled.

“In the category of white boys y/n will fuck with, this one has a networth of millions and the highest grossing movie of all time.” Jesse spoke in her best game host voice.

“I’ll take Captain America for six hundred, Alex!” Tayna snickered.

And they all continued to laugh.

“I gotta get some new friends.”

TBC?

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans fluff #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x black woman #chris evans one shot #chris evans blurb #chris evans and reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans writing #chris evans story #chris evans series #alex writes again #maybe

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glitchh3d · 4 years

Text

||Helping To Forget|| ~ Terushima Yuuji x Reader

I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS

Dude thats wack.

I can’t believe I started this for my own happiness and now 100 people follow me and I-

God you guys are amazing and I can’t thank you enough for keeping me inspired <3 I love you guys so much

That almost makes me feel bad for what I’m going to do to you guys

Warnings: Um, boobs? And Mario Kart. Swearing and stuff. Also Waluigi (he’s too sexy)

ALSO don’t peep on people when their changing cause that’s rude. This was inspired by a uh- An experience I had with some guys at my apartment building.

Masterlist

(Y/n) woke up the morning after her ruined girls trip with Kait excited.

She’d picked up a pale blue t-shirt dress and a thick black corset belt and she was eager to put them on and see how her costume so far was coming along. She had also ordered a super blonde wig to wear for the night that hadn’t come in yet but the tracking site said it’d be there later that day so she wasn’t worried.

She was also excited because both Matsukawa and Hanamaki committed to their roles and had both gotten their respective colors for their Blossom and Buttercup outfits. She’d been sent pictures in a group chat and had nearly died of laughter at how ridiculous they looked.

(Y/n) stripped from her shirt, excited to put her dress on when she realized that her bedroom window curtains weren’t shut and she didn’t have a bra on, so she was completely exposed. She blushed, hoping no one was outside and continued to pull her shirt off.

She rushed over to the window and froze in horror as Futakuchi, Atsumu, Terushima, and Taichi stood outside staring up at her. She screamed at them not to look as she reached for the curtains. She yanked too hard on one of them and a second later, she was laying on her floor with a dull throbbing on the top of her head.

“Ow, what the fuck!” She groaned as she rubbed it. She looked up and noticed her curtain rod gone and could only assume what happened. Moments later, Terushima burst into her bedroom with rosy cheeks and wide eyes.

As soon as he saw her, still topless, he clenched his eyes closed and maneuvered towards her, reaching his hands out for her to help her stand.

“Baby are you okay? Is your head alright?” He asked as she grasped his hand. He pulled her up and she covered her chest with her arms.

“I’m fine, dummy.” She said, pulling her bed t-shirt back on. She was so embarrassed.

“Are you sure? I can take you to the doctor if you want? Just to make sure your brain doesn't look like- mush or something! Or to make sure you're not concussed!” (Y/n) pried his hands from his face and shook her head at him before exiting her room, him trailing behind her like a puppy.

“Good morning. Nice boobs.” Atsumu said as she entered the living room. Taichi smacked him.

“I told you fucking not too!”

“OW! And I didn’t listen!”

“Clearly.”

“Thank you, Atsumu. Can we forget that happened? Please?” She asked, her face burning in embarrassment.

Sure, it’s happened before when she’s accidentally exposed herself to a group of guys. But it was her boys back at Seijoh that she’d known for years and these boys have only been in her life for around 6 months. She loved them to death, but still.

“Sure, we’ll forget. As long as you play a few rounds of Mario Kart with us.” Futakuchi said, not glancing up from his phone. She shrugged.

“Why not.”

(Y/n) and Terushima sat down on the floor next to each other as Atsumu excitedly passed out controllers.

Taichi was sitting out, opting to work on an assignment he needed to get done before noon. So Atsumu, (Y/n), Teru, and Futakuchi played.

Terushima chose to play as Princess Peach.

Atsumu chose Bowser.

Futakuchi chose Waluigi.

And (Y/n) chose Diddy Kong.

Terushima scoffed as he noticed what character (Y/n) chose. She looked at him, a smirk on her face cause she already knew why he was mad.

“Got something to say, pretty boy?” She asked. He rolled his eyes but smiled at her.

“Just- fucking Diddy Kong? Really?”

“You’re just mad because I kick your ass with a shit character. Get over it, baby boy.” She teased and Futakuchi gagged.

“Can you keep the sexual tension between you two to a minimum, please?” The couple looked at each other, then at Futakuchi, then to Atsumu who was watching with wide eyes, and then back at each other.

“Oh Princess Peach, I’d love to fuck you right now,” She said, deadpanned in a deeper voice.

“Oh Diddy Kong! What would Mario think?” Terushima replied in a high pitch, girly voice.

“Mario doesn’t need to know. He’s off fucking-” She glanced at Futakuchi. “He’s off fucking Waluigi anyways.” Futakuchi groaned.

“Oh my god stop it, you two are so annoying.” He groaned as the first race loaded on the screen. They were in Moo Moo meadows.

(Y/n) was in the lead at first, followed closely by Atsumu who was third, then by Futakuchi at fourth and Terushima at tenth. He kept whining as she hit cows on the track but no one pitied him, he just really sucked at the game.

“God I can’t wait to get to Rainbow Road. Terushima won’t even make it past the first lap,” Atsumu said as Terushima fell into last place and was lapped by both (Y/n) and Atsumu who were now in first and second.

They played the game in serious concentration for about an hour or so before the first fight over a blue shell broke out.

It was a tight race and (Y/n) was in first, followed by Taichi who had swapped with Terushima who gave up with a pout and suddenly she was in last place because a blue shell absolutely obliterated her. Taichi laughed as he took first and everyone gasped at the suddenly new development.

“Holy shit, Tai. You’re a damn savage.”

“She’s gotten first all but twice this entire time you’ve been playing. Things needed to change,” He shrugged and (Y/n) glared at the screen.

“Holy shit princess, he- WOW! Teach me your ways, Taichi!”

“I hate this game. I quit.” (Y/n) lost the race and shoved her controller into Terushima’s hands before pouting as she walked towards her bathroom to get ready for the day.

She could hear the boys laughing behind her and she smiled.

She really did love them.

Thanks again for 100 followers guys... I really love and appreciate you all.

Idk how to express my love and appreciation and I just-

♥️🥺

Taglist: @kaitycole, @cosmicmermaid25, @sempiternal-amour, @99astrid, @hidden-otaku-stuff, @vicassa, @elianetsantana, @ankl3s, @newfriendjen, @oikawa-simp, @dakotacecily, @axolotleyeliner, @heyyourecute, @tchalameme, @toobsessedsstuff, @marinovakovich, @disaster-rose, @tacosforexo, @sleep3deprived, @prettyinblack231

#terushima yuuji #terushima x you #terushima x reader #terushima x y/n #smau #twitter au #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu!! x reader #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru #Futakuchi Kenji #kawanishi taichi #atsumu miya #also 100 followers #holy shit #ily <3

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teaboot · 4 years

Note

Not to be that person but if someone doesn't want to date anyone, for whatever reason, they don't have to, you're not discriminating against anyone because they happen to not be part of your dating pool as far as you respect their rights and identities

Bluuuuuuuuh okay so this may or may not be a longass post depending on how coherently I can translate the concept in my brain into English words, so apologies in advance.

Okay, so if a dude comes up to me and asks me out, I can say 'no thank you'. That's a thing I am 100% within my rights to do. It doesn't matter if I'm attracted to him or if I'm not attracted to him or if I think he smells bad and it turns me off, it's not important. I am allowed to say no to the king of France, I can say no to Joe Shmoe at the liquor store.

A step further is HOW I say no. Do I say, "no thank-you", or do I say, "ew, no, your face is gross"? One of these answers is polite and concise; the other, no matter how true to me, is something they're going to have to live with.

For the rest of their life, every romantic interest they pursue, they're going think of that person who told them they were too ugly, and they're going to be ashamed or insecure or embarrassed. Maybe they'll shrug it off eventually, but maybe they won't. Either way, is that the impression of yourself you want to leave on people?

Now the fun question: what if he's a trans guy?

Once again, you can say no. For any reason at all, you can say no. Maybe you aren't attracted to him, maybe he has bad breath, maybe you're new to the concept of gender identity and your fear of somehow fucking up and hurting him is getting in the way right now. For any of these reasons you can say no! But you DON'T GET TO MAKE IT THEIR PROBLEM.

Saying no-thanks to a trans woman because you aren't attracted to her? Totally fine.

Telling her "NO, I DON'T LIKE DICK"- that's real sweet. That's something she has to walk away with, now- every time she meets someone she likes and wants to get to know, that person's first thought is going to be about her genitals. She'll never be good enough for anyone because all anyone cares about is her junk.

You're not interested in a trans person? Cool, you don't have to be.

You're not interested in a trans person because you haven't made peace with the reality of trans identities? Obviously not great, but sure, take the time to figure things out.

You've never been interested in someone you knew to be trans, and announce "I NEVER WANT TO DATE A TRANS PERSON"? That's a different statement. That's saying, "There is one defining characteristic that makes all trans people the same, and it's something I find repulsive!" And- Surprise!- THAT is Transphobic. Which is, at it's barest bones- say it with me now- MAKING IT SOMEONE ELSE'S PROBLEM.

And imagine, if you will, dating a lady for a few weeks. She's clever, funny, beautiful, kind- you're head over heels for her, until the very first time you have sex, and you see her vagina. And you think to yourself, "that's an ugly vagina", and break up with her.

If that was a deal breaker for you? Who gives a shit. Some would say it's a bit shallow, but so.long as things break off amicably, life will move on without anybody getting hurt.

Same situation, but you tell her "I can't be with someone who has an ugly vagina!"... Jesus fucking Christ, my guy. What the Fuck. Why the fuck would you tell her that? What on earth made you think your personal aesthetic preferences were more important than her sense of self worth? You entitled jackass. Who died and made you Empirical Minister Of Visually Pleasing Hoo-Has? Why would you SAY that to someone??

Same situation, but she's trans. "This isn't working out for me"? Sure. "I don't know anything about this subject, I don't want to move forwards until I know more"? Hard, but not cruel. "Bye honey, shlongs gross me out"??? WHAT KIND DICKBAG ARE YOU????

And that's kind of what gets me on "Can I say I'm not attracted to genderfluid people?". Because, like... I'd never tell a lesbian, "oh, you aren't attracted to men? Have you met every man on the planet? Sure, sweetie" because, like... Cis men are men all the time. You're attracted to women, whatever. Cool.

But someone who DOES experience attraction to men tells me, "Oh, I'd never DATE one!"- Then I'm sketched out. Because, like.... Why? What do you think all men have in common? You didn't say you weren't attracted to them, just that you'd never date one.

"Oh, I could NEVER date a trans man!"... Why...? The only thing I can conclude is that you're boiling down everything they are to a set of genitals, at which point, fuck, they're probably happier without you.

And by the way, how often do you hear, "UGH, I could NEVER date a CIS woman"? Think about that one for a sec. How does that one feel to a cis lady? Probably pretty shitty. Imagine hearing that from someone you have a crush on. Do you feel outraged? Embarrassed? Maybe you feel disgusting, like someone you admire is repulsed by your body.

Fucking *Ouch,* huh?

SO. Easy rules for not being a dick:

1. If you want to turn someone down, you can, no matter what your reasons are. BUT YOU DO BOT HAVE TO SHARE THOSE REASONS.

2. Their hang-ups are not your responsibility, but YOURS AREN'T THEIRS, EITHER. DO NOT tell someone you can't date them because they look like your mom, just say no and move on! DO NOT tell someone you don't want to have sex because you think their feet are gross, just say no! DO NOT bring up someone's voice or hair or eyes or genitalia, JUST SAY NO! TELLING SOMEONE YOU LIKE THEM IS HARD. BE POLITE, MOTHER FUCKERS.

3. Maybe you're already dating someone you like, and you discover new information that you weren't expecting. Maybe they're trans, maybe they had a hysterectomy, maybe they have a tattoo or a kid or a criminal record, maybe they wear a wig or have a disability or have a rubber duck fetish. Whatever it is, it's an emotional topic and you need space to process. Good! Think things out! If that ends it for you, okay, but none of these things makes someone a bad person or an ugly person or unworthy of love! Don't make them feel that way. Again, your hangups are on you, not them.

4. The next time you go to say something like, "I'd never date a trans guy", or, "I'd never date a black girl", or, "I'd never date a disabled person"- Stop, and think about why you feel that way. What is it about this group of people that you don't like? Is it a real reason, or a stereotype? Is it an aesthetic reason, and if so, don't try to dismiss is as "that's just how I feel". There's a reason. Keep digging for that reason, and once you find it, figure out if it's a belief you want to hold onto. Always ask yourself "why?". Never let yourself fall into the belief that any group is worthy of wholesale dismissal.

5. Breathe. Stay calm. You're not a bad person. Society has programmed us with a lot of biases- it's not your fault you have them, but it isn't a free pass to remain ignorant and hurt others. Be gentle with yourself, but be willing to reflect on your feelings and behaviors and rein in the ones that are harmful. No matter your feelings, at least be kind. We're all trying our best, and we all just want to be loved. Keep that in mind.

Anyhow, that's just my two cents. I hope this wasn't too winding or rambly, I'm still working out my thoughts on the matter myself. Being genderfluid doesn't make me an expert on trans issues, and I certainly don't have the experience to speak further.

If there are any corrections to be made, please let me know. Always learning!

Please take care.

#Long post

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

Dori is in the mood for cosplaying.

So instead of cosplaying ng as pretty princess like last time,

He decided to just cosplay as a normal girl,as he walks through the hallways of the beach,doing his job(spraying Niragi)

Lady in White? Nah, just Fancy in White

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Sakurada Sori

Genre: Fluff. Just some casual crossdressing. And a grumpy lizard.

1.6k words

Sakurada would probably rock a beach dress. He has like.... a picture of him wearing a wig for reasons I have no idea of, but it's there. I find it interesting.

Anyways, I hope you like this! I.... tried to make it fit.

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

Niragi liked having a full rest after a day and evening full of exhilarating excitement and a little chaos sprinkled into each day however he pleased.

What he didn’t like is waking up to the sound of his unintentional roommate tripping over his own pillow, hitting the floor quite loudly, then apologizing to said pillow like he tripped over his baby.

Which, Niragi had found out from having to share a room with him, was pretty much his baby. Just cylindrical. He’s never seen a man that excited over a body pillow that was simply a black air tube, yet here he was.

“ Can you keep it down, asshat? I’m trying to sleep.” Niragi grumbles, Sakurada quickly bowing and apologizing to him. It was still dark, and Niragi didn’t feel like turning on a light, pulling the blanket back over himself and huffing in annoyance.

There was quiet shuffling around the room, and the other male at least kept the lights off to let him sleep, although whatever he was doing in the dark was suspicious at best. Niragi rolls over, squinting into the darkness as he tried to figure out what the heck Sakurada was even up to. All he saw was his figure, which held a weirdly uncanny similarity to his own, although darkened. “ It’s early, go to sleep.” Niragi mumbles, glaring into the darkness. “ I apologize for waking you, Niragi, but I am merely choosing my outfit for the day!” “ It’s the Beach, your only choice is swimwear. You know you’re pushing it with all this fancy getup, right?” “ You don’t adhere to the rules either, you know.” Sakurada says, Niragi rolling his eyes.

“ Because the rules are so nobody hides a weapon.” He gestures to his gun, which he lovingly tucked into bed with him. “ And spoilers, I have a gun.”

“ I am very aware of that, but your leader of this place was very kind and let me wear whatever I want because, and I quote, ‘ You look absolutely stunning you french baked potato, and who am I to deny a man of being this nice to look at’.” “ Why the fuck did Hatter call you a baked potato.” Niragi mutters. “ You’re more of a chocolate waffle cake with truffles if anything else.”

“ I’m going to take both as a compliment, even though it is amusing how you both jump to calling me after a food item.” Niragi just rolls back over. “ Whatever. Just be quiet, it’s too early for this shit.” He yawns, and the shuffling began anew, Niragi mentally blocking out the sound as sleep reclaimed his body and mind.

—————————————————————————————————

Morning soon came, Niragi drifting out of his silent unconsciousness and into the chaotic real world. He sits up, stretching his bones and groaning as he did.

“ Good morning!” An all too familiar voice chirps out, and Niragi barely mutters one back, eyelids still firmly draped over his eyes and blocking most of his sight. “ Morning.” He finally opens his eyes, but pauses as he spots a figure that definitely didn’t look like Sakurada. Said figure was just idly standing there, fixing rather long and wavy dirty blond hair, a simple and loose white beach dress draped over her body…. A bit tall, but nothing that could deter the bastard that is Niragi. He blinks in confusion, but doesn’t falter as he gets up, grinning and approaching the mysterious person from behind.

“ What’s a sexy lady like you doing in my ro-“ Niragi gets cut off again as the figure whips around and spritzes water straight into Niragi’s face, Niragi hissing and backing up. He furiously rubs the water away and glares at the figure, face heating up in embarrassment as he recognizes the facial structure, Sakurada raising an eyebrow at him, donned in a dress and wig.

“ Bad Niragi.” Sakurada lightly scolds, crossing his arms. A pair of sunglasses rested atop his head, only completing the look. “ I know I look good, but don’t think you’re gonna get away with trying to come onto me again.” He sighs, Niragi grumbling under his breath.

Stupid weird clone, looking decent in a dress. Niragi leaves him there to do whatever Sakurada was doing with himself to get ready for the day, which just equated to a quick brushing of his teeth, brushing his hair, and washing his face. He knew he looked pretty enough, so he didn’t need much else.

When he leaves the bathroom, Sakurada was still there, sunglasses now over his eyes as he smiles at Niragi. “ Ready to go?” He asks, and Niragi barely even offers a grunt as he grabs his rifle and leaves the room before Sakurada. As he usually did, Sakurada follows after him, water sprayer at his side. Niragi much rather prefer no more sprays today, as his pride kept getting damaged every time it happened, especially in front of the other Beach members. He wanted to just shoot Sakurada and get it over with, but something in him kept him from going through with it. Maybe the idea of shooting what looked just like him turned on some weird survival instinct that kept him from killing ‘himself’, even if he attempted to just treat Sakurada as the weird twin that won’t leave him alone.

The trip to the dining area was… weird. Niragi could spot other members looking towards his direction, some whispering or plainly talking to each other. Most of them were about the ‘pretty lady’ right behind him, wondering who ‘she’ was, and why ‘she’ was even following a guy like Niragi.

Niragi couldn’t help but approach every single one and sneer at them, telling them off and watching them flee with their tails between their legs, only to have to deal with Sakurada lightly scolding him on manners.

“ Yada yada yada, still don’t care!” Niragi comments after the seventh time, Sakurada lightly spraying the back of Niragi’s neck with water. Niragi hisses at the cold temperature, whipping around and glaring at Sakurada, who just gives him a disappointed look.

“ You should. I know you like doing whatever you please, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little more polite.” “ Politeness can get fucked.” Niragi grumbles, and that only earns him a second spray, right on the ear. He angrily swipes the water droplets away, and picks up his pace, Sakurada quickly matching his pace.

The two of them continue to walk, and Niragi finally decides to ask about his weird getup, looking towards Sakurada. “ So what’s with the dress? Decide you’re a girl now or something?” “ This dress was very free flowing, and I felt like dressing up like this for the day! It doesn’t have to mean anything! Don’t I look nice?” “ I mean……” Niragi just shrugs. He has no idea what to really make of it. Sakurada in a dress and looking decent was…. not something Niragi thought he’d see. Or ever want to admit. He never understood. “ Sure. But it’s weird as shit. You’re fucking weird.” “ Language. But thank you for the compliment.” Sakurada chirps with a soft smile. He still was wearing the sunglasses, so Niragi couldn’t tell what his eyes said, but the smile said enough. Niragi rolls his eyes.

They make it to the dining area, and people immediately are looking at the both of them. Some were faces of concern because of Niragi being there now, others in a curious light as who his companion was, as Sakurada didn’t bother to separate from his side yet. Niragi smiles at a few members in a prideful air, and heads to grab breakfast, Sakurada keeping in step. From the corner of his eye, Sakurada had been waving at a few, nodding his head in greeting at others, people settling easily with the sight of him instead of focusing on Niragi minding his business.

He sits down by himself at a spare table, Sakurada sitting besides him and pulling back the blond locks so he didn’t stain them in the food, simply eggs and fruits with yoghurt on the side. “ How long are you gonna stay like that?” Niragi asks, chewing on the end of a honeydew slice. “ All day!” “ You do realize you look like a girl right? Everyone’s gonna think you’re like….. my girlfriend. Which is gross. I don’t want you as a girlfriend.” Sakurada lightly laughs, smiling. “ I wouldn’t want to be, no offense to you of course. I suppose it’ll just have to look like that for today! I’ll clear up the misunderstanding if anyone asks. There’s a lot of people here that come in and out, there’s no harm in one day of looking like this, is there?” Niragi rolls his eyes again. “ You’re weird." “ But I’m good company, am I not?” “ You do nothing but look pretty and spray me.” “ It’s simply for your own good! You can’t go around all mean all the time you know! You can be tough without being creepy!” Sakurada cheerfully reprimands, pulling his sunglasses up to rest on his head, Niragi rolling his eyes even harder.

“ Shut up.” “ I think you’re very tough! Look at you go, with your cool piercings and gun! And you hold yourself very proudly! That’s enough for now! The creepy part can chill-“ “ Sakurada, if you don’t shut up right now I am going to blow your head off.” Niragi grumbles, Sakurada smiling and eating a spoonful of yoghurt. He sighs, then smirks, nodding a little. “ I am pretty cool, huh?” Niragi mutters to himself, then barks a short laugh. “ Hell yeah.” Sakurada chuckles, and gives him a thumbs up, Niragi glancing at his dress-wearing doppelgänger. Even if he was a weird, dress-wearing pretty face, at least he had a point.

Still wasn’t gonna stop him from doing fuck-all though. Water hits his face, and he sputters, head whipping over to glare at Sakurada, who blinks too innocently at him.

“ The fuck-“ “ You have very loud thoughts. Please restrain yourself today, and I’ll get you a really cool pair of leather pants on a supply run next time!” “…. Make them black and you got yourself a deal, you spring roll-looking grass stick.”

Sakurada nods. “ Of course! “

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #sakurada dori #sichys really likes his body pillow #niragi made him sleep on the floor by the way #the bed's reserved for him and his precious gun #yes he tucked the gun into bed #Sakurada would spray anyone who tried to come onto him in the dress #ask

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goldenmazzello · 4 years

Text

Lay all your love on me | Part 1

(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)

Warning: Flashbacks. Language. Mentions of poor mental health, angst.

W/C: 2.8k.

A/N: Hello! This is the first part of Lay all your love on me. You can find the next parts on my pinned masterlist here.

MASTERLIST

Your last day on set has finally arrived. It's amazing how time flies when you're busy doing things you really love, surrounded by magnificient people. It makes you forget about your every day routine and to have some fun from time to time.

Everybody was getting their make-up done for the last day of filming. As you entered the trailer in order to get yours done, a sweet, delicate voice called you.

"(Y/n)! Are you ready for our last day?" Lucy asked with a bright smile on her face while sitting on her personalized black chair, which had her name written at the back.

You smiled. "To be honest, I'm not doing too well, I'm gonna miss you guys so much." You said with a pouty face. Lucy said she would miss all of you too.

“Oh, nice baby bump!”

You furrowed your brows but then you remembered. You were wearing a fake silicone belly, since your character was going to be pregnant in that scene.

“Yeah, he’s kicking so hard.” You joked.

You sat on your chair as your assistant helped you put your wig. You laughed at your reflection in the mirror. "I still can't used to this wig." You found it odd to wear a blonde wig.

“At least they didn’t give you a perm!” Joe appeared holding two cups of coffee on each of his hands. “Here you have, my wonderful wife.” he approached you and gave you one of the cups. You laughed at his comments.

“Thank you, Mr. Deacon.” You thanked him and left a kiss on his cheek.

Joe bringing you coffee on set every morning became a habit, one you were very delighted with. He was so kind with you that you swore your heart could just melt for every little thing he did for you.

And while drinking your coffee, you remembered your very first day on set and how you and Joe started talking.

Filming had already started by your first day on set. Today, you would meet the entire cast of the wonderful movie you were going to take part in. You felt an overwhelming joy for being part of such an incredible project, not only because it was a big step in your career as an actress, but also because you were a Queen fan. And it was your very first time in London.

Your very first scene was Freddie’s birthday party. You greeted all of your new cast mates before paying attention to the director’s indications.

You sat between two of your cast mates. One of them was wearing a long-haired blonde wig and the other a long-haired brown one with a strange fringe. You were wearing a wig as well. It was a black-haired one with a fringe and low pony tails falling over your shoulders. Your eyes had a beautiful emerald eye-shadow which you weren’t very comfortable with but you didn’t care, you were another person now, it was your job.

As they started filming, you kept a conversation with the actor that played John Deacon’s role, your husband, of who you didn't remember his name. You smile at each other and them you both joined the conversation that the others were having about Freddie’s life as his mom stood up and looked for family pictures.

The director decided to take some breaks in between the scenes. It was a good opportunity to introduce yourself and to make some new friends.

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Ben.” said the blonde one who was next to you and you told him your name. The other actors joined him and all of you started talking. There was something strange in one of them, the one who was next to you and introduced himself as Joe. Why was he talking so weird?

“Why are you doing a bad American accent?” You asked him laughing. He furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, he looked as if he was trying to find the words to say. “B-but, t-that’s my voice.” he said confused.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” You said and covered your face with your hands. That’s why you don’t have friends, stupid, you said to yourself.

Your face was burning and you felt absolutely embarrassed. How long have you been on set? Three hours? And you were already causing trouble.

He laughed. “Nevermind. What an awesome compliment. I mean, I’ve been working on it so hard and you thought that I was actually British but...What’s wrong with my voice? I think it’s a pretty convincing American accent. Anyway, thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m really really sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” Your face was still red. You wished the Earth would swallow you, you wanted to disappear from his sight. He put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I really meant what I’ve said, it was a nice compliment, I’m prouder of myself now!” He assured you and gave you an expression that indicated everything was okay and there wasn’t anything bad at what you had said, he wasn’t mad at that.

You weren’t very convinced but after getting closer to him the following days, you realized that he was telling you the truth and there wasn’t anything you should worry about. After that, you both talked about each other’s lives. You found out he lived in New York, just as you. He was from there but you were from New Jersey. You told him how you ended up moving to New York to study and work on your acting career. Since that day, you both became very good friends. And the same thing happened with Ben, Gwilym, Rami and Lucy, you became close to them because of your new friendship with Joe.

“Let’s take a picture for Instagram.” Joe suggested. You stood next to him, with your right hand covering half of your mouth showing surprise and Joe put one of his hands on your fake belly and the other did the same as yours.

Lucy took the photo.

@Joe_Mazzello: Say hi to the Deacon family! @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody #Queen #DeaconFamily

The director was giving the last indications for the scene. We will rock you. You were on a sofa next to Joe, having a conversation as Ben did the same with the actress who played his wife and the one who was Gwilym’s wife sat there looking at him, while he was looking at Rami, completely annoyed. The girls were very good actresses but unfortunately, they weren’t very close to the rest of the cast and won’t be joining the future tour press since they have another projects in the pipeline.

“You look so funny in that blonde wig.” Joe teased you, knowing that you hated it.

Actually, Joe wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, as always, but he wasn't bold enough to do it.

"Shut up or I'll take your wig off." You threatened him, he mocked you and rested his head on your shoulder.

And after that, Gwilym ordered everybody to join him. He came up with the beat of a new song he had been working on. Suddenly, all of you were clapping your hands at the third beat as Rami appeared and apologized for being late. He asked what was going on and Gwilym explained he wanted to give the audience a song they could perform and be part of it and you all began to sing and clap your hands.

"Cut!" The director shouted.

And everything was done. There were no scenes left, nothing else. After that, Rami suggested to go and have coffee. All of you were sat on the floor and drinking your coffee.

"I can't believe it's our last day." You said.

"I still remember the very first time you were on set." Gwilym said. "And the odd American accent." he moved his gaze from you to Joe and laughed.

"Oh no, please, I'm still ashamed of that." You begged him not no bring that back.

Memories from set were mentioned as you took a sip of coffee. You had a big smile on your face as you remembered probably one of the best days of your life and the best memory on set.

"Who's coming over?" You asked Rami, who was taking his crown off and put in on your head, you laughed.

"I don't know, darling. Maybe some fans." He shrugged. He got used to talking like Freddie.

After Freddie's party scene in Garden Lodge, the director suggedted to take a break and said that they had some guests on set that day.

"I thought we were going to film the I want to break free music video now." Gwilym said thoughtful with his hand on his chin.

"Hey mates, look who are here today!" Ben said as he, Joe and Lucy stood next to you, Rami and Gwilym and pointed at the door.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw them.

Brian May and Roger Taylor were a few feet away from you. Brian and Roger, from Queen, your favorite band, your idols.

"Hey folks, How are you doing today?" Asked Brian with a charming smile.

Everybody greeted them but you. You were in shock, your face was as white as a sheet and your jaw was slacked. Lucy seemed to notice you and held your hand.

Joe put his hand in your back and rubbed it softly. “Let’s go outside and catch some fresh air.”

“Hey, who’s this pretty lady?” Roger asked. He took off his black glasses.

“(Y/n) are you okay?” Lucy asked worried and the four men next to you turned to look.

Oh God, you were absolutely nervous. Never in your craziest dreams you thought about having this opportunity. You knew that Brian and Roger sometimes visited the set but you didn’t think they would do it a day you were there.

“I-I-I’m (Y/n)...” you extended your shaky hand. “Oh sorry for this, but I’m a big fan of Queen and...Oh God I can’t believe it!” Roger laughed and took your hand and shook it. You thought you were going to faint. You could feel your knees weaken.

“No! I’m okay” You were shaking.

“Wow, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen some pictures of you here on set with these amazing people, you’re doing amazing.” He said and Brian nodded.

“We’re finally meeting!” Brian said and you smiled with watery eyes.

Joe wondered what made you deal with so much pain, you'd never said anything about that. He felt his heart broke at the mere thought of you being in pain.

Brian and Roger were absolutely grateful for your words.

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” You laughed nervously. “You guys don’t have an idea of how much I appreciate you, your music helped me to heal so much pain and I will be forever grateful for that. I wanna show you something.” You said as you uncover your left wrist from your sleeve. You had a beautiful butterfly tattooed and under it, a lyric from one of your favorite songs by Queen, Spread your wings. “I’ve had this for over 12 years now and one of my biggest wishes was to show it to both of you someday and to thank you for everything."

“I’m glad our music help you in any possible way.” Brian said “And your tattoo is amazing. John would be very pleased If he saw it” You smiled.

“I love it.” Roger said. “Hey Bri, why don’t we take a photo with her for Instagram?”

“That would be nice.”

Oh my God.

"Let me be your photographer." Rami asked Brian for his phone and took some photos of your tattoo and others of you with them. A few minutes after that, your phone buzzed. Queen has tagged you on a post.

@OfficialQueenMusic: “So glad to meet a fan today that will be part of our upcoming movie. Thank you for sharing your story with us @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody”

That was, by far, the best day of your entire life.

“Hey, come back to Earth, where are you?” Ben asked moving a hand in your face. You shook your head.

“I was thinking about the first time I met Brian and Roger.” You blushed and he laughed.

“Oh, the day you almost pass out” Ben joked and you slapped him on his arm. “Hey, Am I telling a lie?”

“Of course I almost pass out, my eyes were lucky to see Brian and Roger in person.” You and Ben giggled.

“I’m going to miss you, do you know that?” Ben asked.

“So do I!” You hugged him. Smiling. "You know I'm going to visit you."

Those weeks on set made you realize how lucky you were to find such incredible people. After years and years of being alone in your misery. After the countless nights you cried yourself to sleep and feeling like a piece of shit for being so alone in this world, everything was making sense now.

You never told them about what you had been through. Being a teenager wasn’t easy. You wanted people to destroy the concept that your teenage years are supposed to be fun and those are the best years of your life because when you hit your late 20s, responsibilities are hard to manage and everything seems to be falling apart. Why couldn’t you be happy now?

Now, that you were 30, that everything was left behind. You wished you could say that you were a happy teenager and you didn’t have to fake a smile and pretend everything was okay. There were days you barely could get out of your house and see other people, or even worse, some days you couldn’t get out of bed and shower because there wasn’t any motivation at all. And no one understood. No one knew how hard it was being you, having such an stressful life that you worried about every little thing and it seemed you would never be at peace. You never felt safe. How hard it was to interact with others without thinking that they just did it to be nice to you or that they were desperately waiting for you to shut your fucking mouth. Isolation didn’t feel right. Loneliness didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right at all. You couldn’t keep pretending to be happy, you needed a reason to keep holding on, something that made you believe that your life was going to change, you wanted to be back on your feet and to know that all of that pain was gone.

Maybe it wasn’t so hard to be you, and eventually, you would find out where you belonged. You felt it was taking forever and you couldn’t wait for things to get better. You knew that someday things would be better and that your day would come. Sometimes you wished someone would save you, but you knew that you had to save yourself. If only you could find what you've been looking for. "How could this happen to me? "was the only thing that was always on your mind. You were sick of this life, you wanted to scream. You felt out of place, you were sick of feeling so left out.

And at that moment, you knew that your 18-year-old-self would be proud of you. Proud of the woman you had become and that now, all of your worries were left behind. You didn’t have to worry about that again, but it was still hard to open your heart and tell people about it. You weren’t embarrassed, it was part of you, part of your story but you didn’t want people to pity you.

You didn’t realize you were almost crying until Joe spoke.

“What’s going on?” He hugged you. Your vision was blurry, it was difficult for you to see clearly. You wiped your tears with your thumb and you chuckled.

“I’m very emotional today. I’m grateful for everything that this movie brought me, especially the five of you.”

There was a broad smile on Joe’s face. “Well, I’m glad you say that because you won’t get rid of me so easily, huh?” He joked. Joe always knew how to make you smile. But he was right, you lived like 30 minutes away from him, you would see each other everyday. “I have a list of places we’re visiting after coming back to New York.”

“That’s why I love you.” You hugged him again. He smiled.

Joe felt something on his chest. He wished that I love you meant something else than being loved as a friend, but at the same time, he didn’t want to feel like this, he didn’t want to be in love again. Since his last girlfriend cheated on him with his friend, he couldn’t feel anything for someone. All of his dates failed and he decided to take some time for himself.

But there was something Joe couldn’t deny, when you were near, everything seemed so easy, he could look into your eyes and forget the world.

“I love you even more.”

#joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello angst #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys #joe mazzelo x reader #goldenmazzello

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frstbiitten · 3 years

Text

cw: drug mention, fire, death, gore.

The changes in the house didn't happen over the days, it didn't take Rose many hours to give Frost a new look, one that seemed more human. It would be complicated to be able to adapt her to her social circles, to invent a not very dramatic story about why there was a new girl in the house. It was all a process of adjustment, and Frost didn't say anything about it.

Rose had set up a room for her that had been Dalhia's room when she lived in that house, didn't remind her about the apartment she once shared with her mother. Sunlight streamed in through a wide window, it had a view of the forest which was the first thing one could see in the morning, the pale pink walls, the already somewhat worn wooden bed. More things had to be tailored to fit her, like the clothes in the closet, they were new and all for her, but most of them were meant for Eirwen, too many dresses and too many shirts.

It occurred to Rose that it was a good idea to have a family dinner, as so far she had been eating alone in the room. It was also a test, Rose wanted to see if Frost/Eirwen was ready to move on, commitment on her part was important. Shedding who she was was going to be the most complicated part, getting used to hearing a name she hadn't heard since she was little, she had abandoned Eirwen with the promise to leave her behind, in the worst place of all if it had to be necessary, Frost had never repented, but it was someone else watching her in the mirror.

In her room there was a vanity, it hadn't been refurbished so the wood kept the same features as the bed in the room. Rose had left her some makeup, basic things that Frost didn't quite understand how to apply without help, and also a wig inside a clear plastic bag, she didn't know exactly the length of it as she hadn't opened it yet. Heard Shawn's footsteps down the hallway near the room, he had just come out of the bathroom so could borrow a few minutes of his time.

"I need your help." She grabbed his arm in surprise before he continued walking to his room, it was obvious she had startled him. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to spook you."

"It's okay... I'm still not used to all this." Shawn relaxed for a few seconds, he hadn't felt the girl's coldness at any point, apparently, all this time his mother had been playing scientist had worked. "What do you need?"

"...I have no idea how to do my makeup with what Rose gave me." It sounded too pathetic, and even generated some embarrassment in a way.

"Oh... do you want me to help you with that?"

"Please?"

"Okay, I think there's something I can do."

Frost sat down in front of the vanity, somewhat unsure of Shawn's artistic abilities, well, he didn't seem like the right person for this, but she trusted him more than his mother. Instantly, Shawn noticed that the color of the foundation was a few shades lower than Frost's skin color, it could be the paler shade that the brand would have, or maybe it was her way of making the off-white tone of her skin go unnoticed. And how exactly was this done? He wasn't the kind of guy who questioned these things, but it was hard to keep a pulse and finesse when it came to applying something on the other person's face. The foundation was a powder and came with a sponge, he miscalculated the amount too poorly and ended up putting a lot of powder on her face, she started coughing as a result.

"Shit... the last time I wore makeup was for a school play, I had to act as a mime, which suited me just fine because I had a loud mouth back then, I guess my teacher said 'perfect, this will keep him quiet'." It was an attempt to lighten the situation and elicited a chuckle from her as she tried to calm down and breathe. "Did you even get to go to school?"

"Yes, although I don't remember exactly how I did, it's kind of confusing, because once my mother realized what was going on, she decided to remove me from school and teach me at home." Frost had no recollection of having friends, nor did she recall having a favorite teacher or activities she enjoyed, that time had become fuzzy and she could hardly remember it at all.

Shawn gave his best effort as far as doing Frost's makeup was concerned, wasn't very skilled but he gave it his best shot, especially with the lipstick, although at the last minute he preferred to opt for gloss, it was easier to apply. Instantly Frost noticed that this one had a fruity taste, that prompted her to lick her lips and was interrupted by Shawn.

"Frost, please don't eat the gloss."

"Sorry."

The time it took him to finish with his 'masterpiece' shortened, Shawn helped Frost put on the wig, which, incidentally, didn't feel comfortable at all. She couldn't remember at any point in her life of having to wear something so uncomfortable, she wouldn't require a nylon fabric cap at least, as her natural hair was short enough to hide it under. She couldn't tell it was fake hair at first, even when she ran her fingers through it, had that strange sensation from not so long ago that reminded her of her previous style. Perhaps her biggest annoyance had to do with the color. Dark chocolate that reached halfway down her chest, sinuous waves fell over her body, she saw someone else in the mirror, it was her and it wasn't at the same time.

Dinner time was approaching, why did she feel so much adrenaline reserved in her shoulders and they were weighing her down? Frost didn't know how to feel, not even how to stand or wait. Earlier Rose had recommended a set of clothes to put on for that specific night, she had to get used to wearing other items of clothing, different things, accessories, anything to be able to fit in more easily. She let Shawn go do his thing, refused to say how she felt in this environment, almost as being on the surface but without enough ability to breathe, didn't have chains to hold her still but the sensation that they were still around her body persisted.

Ended wearing a pale green shirt, almost a grayish tone, a suede ribbon adorned the neck area in a discreet bow, while a black dress over the shirt, thin straps and without much grace, reached a few inches above her knees, the shoes at least were not uncomfortable to wear, low and triangular tipped. It wasn't her in the mirror. An old acquaintance perhaps, but it wasn't Frost.

The food wasn't ready yet, it was a little while before dinner, though Rose had asked Eirwen to help her "set the table"...

"What, and... how do you do that?" She was a bit confused, as it was the first shock with reality, it was supposed to be something simple, right?

"You're going to have to learn basic stuff, and fast, okay? It's all about placing some tablecloths on the table, 3 for us, then you place some napkins on the side, the plate in the middle, a knife and fork on top of the napkin, and lastly, a glass."Rose took her time explaining, rather, it would be the last time she would do so. "You look decent tonight, Eirwen, did you do your own makeup?"

"... no, I got some help with it."

They both stood silently in the kitchen for a moment, a disapproving expression settled on Rose's face.

"Mm, not bad, but please put these on, they have almost no focus so your eyesight won't be affected much." She gave to Eirwen some simple glasses, they were slightly square, as she put them on, noticed that her eyesight was semi-blurred and she had to blink constantly. "Now, set the table, I only need to finish cooking the meat."

After blinking a couple of times, Frost accomplished her task of setting the table, the most important part was remembering the order and not getting the items wrong, although she would have to be too forgetful to mix everything up. One of the knives remained in her hand, directly on the plain white plate, it was where she was going to sit in a few minutes, but silence reached Rose's ears. It was a very suspicious silence, after turning over the chunks of veal, she turned to find Eirwen in a position as if frozen in time, holding a knife in an atypical way at mealtime, with the point on the porcelain.

"I don't recommend you do anything crazy, did you hear Eirwen?" she hadn't seen the gun on the cabinet near Rose, she would decide to kill her no matter how much she had never done it before and refused to do it. But she wouldn't take the chance.

"Ma?" Shawn had arrived at the best of times, but his attitude seemed more reserved than before, he had entered the room taking discreet steps. "How much longer until dinner? I'm starving."

"Oh, the meat's still to be finished, the vegetables and gravy are ready." Rose turned the meat over the pan again, it was 3 large portions for each of them.

Frost's attention didn't linger on the previous threat or the sound of the hot meat and oil, she heard the hissing but it was Shawn's gentle touch on her shoulder that brought her attention back to the real world again. As they exchanged glances, he handed her a not too crumpled piece of paper for her to read, the message was clear. "Fire. Upstairs." Though it seemed more like a code, which Frost didn't quite understand. Her pupils expanded and now she's in doubt, what did Shawn have in mind? She didn't know him well enough to know exactly what was going through his mind. She quickly handed the paper back to him before Rose finished cooking and they both sat down in their respective places.

The plates were filled with vegetables such as roasted tomatoes, asparagus, and diced sweet potatoes, a sauce with hints of sweetness and reddish color accompanied the medium-rare meat, it looked juicy once sliced and the sauce permeated every millimeter of the piece. The smell ascended to her nose, increasing her hunger, even more, that's when she heard her stomach growl, couldn't remember eating something like this before that attracted her eyes as much as now. The side dish consisted only of water, nothing too fancy at the end. The first bite was accompanied by the asparagus and a few pieces of sweet potato, this was even worse, Rose knew very well how to please the palate. Anything could look appetizing to her, for she had gone years without tasting anything that was made with care. Rose noticed her conflicted attitude instantly, the girl refused to confess how much she liked the first bite, and the second, she let the silverware do the talking for her.

"It's really good, ma." Great, Shawn was given to indulging his mother's ego and with his mouth full.

"Thank you, and what do you think, Eirwen?" Rose was doing this on purpose.

"Please...don't call me that." She was folding so fast and right at dinner time, her words didn't sound like her voice usually did, it was almost a girlish voice, but that shell was cracking and she couldn't take it anymore.

Both Rose and Shawn were silent for a moment, exchanging glances as Frost breathed almost silently. It was a somewhat strange sight to see, and feel as well, the coldness of her body had left her but not the paleness of her hands, the hair seemed to take all the attention of someone who didn't know her saw her and didn't pay attention to how strangely cold she still felt. She hadn't reached a standard body temperature to human yet, which had frustrated Rose as if the girl's nature kept refusing all the work of her research and experimentation. It was like bringing in an abandoned dog, with rage in its eyes and sharp teeth, her intention was always on taming the girl, reintegrating her into society as someone merely "normal" if she survived.

The young girl's hand abandoned the fork, dropping it on the table to bring it to her chest, an emptiness suddenly began to invade her, she had felt something like this before in her worst nights, but this time it felt overwhelming, like snakes crawling from her chest to her head and enveloping her with electric shocks, it wasn't that, there was no electrical device insight and Rose hadn't moved towards her. The emptiness turned to pain, not an ephemeral one, but much worse, it paralyzed every inch of her body. Couldn't help but feel her chest contracting, her body felt heavier than normal, eventually, this led to her falling to the dining room floor with a sudden faint and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Mom? What did you do now!!!?"

"I just did the usual, but this time I gave her oxycodone!"

"Mom she might die if you keep abusing her like that!"

"Well maybe that was the goal? Don't you understand, son, please!"

"What do you want me to understand, that she's not like you and me?"

"YES... please, Shawn, what solution do you see to this?"

"I don't know, but this is not what you should be doing, you disappoint me."

...

"Look what you've done Eirwen." Her world was about to sink into deep shadows again, until she felt a tap on her shoulder, only seeing shadows and an intense light like an orb of fire over her head. "If it were up to me, I would gladly trade your soul for my sister's."

They both heard a thud upstairs, it was like a thump or a crack, Frost wasn't in the best condition to differentiate noises. Apparently, Shawn wasn't with them, he handed her a note earlier, it could have been a warning, maybe? The pain in her body wouldn't let her think clearly until she started breathing repeatedly, deep and focusing on herself instead of what was going on around her. She gathered strength in both hands and that's when she heard an explosion upstairs, followed by an extremely strong smell filling her lungs at an alarming rate. Rose left Frost alone in the living room and ran upstairs, listening to her screaming and banging on the door, without a result

The reaction in her body could be compared to the time Lewis had abused Frost's body with sleeping pills for months, her nature would have found a way to reverse the effect, in the worst possible way, but it was what she needed to get up. The glasses had shattered with the blow and even her head was spinning, the fire was spreading upstairs and she heard the structure weakening with the seconds. Rose came down the stairs like a frightened demon, not turning her eyes to Frost on her way to the exit, and before she could leave the room, she caught her arm in surprise.

"Drugs...guns.... what else are you going to do to kill me without using your hands, Rose? Or are you afraid to be like me?" As much as she still felt somewhat weakened, it didn't take away her pleasure in trying to provoke Rose, her face overcome with despair and now, fear.

"Get your hands off me Eirwen!" In her act of desperation to get Frost's hand off her arm, Rose attempted to remove her grip by pushing Frost back with her other hand, all she succeeded in doing was getting it too instantly caught in an almost inhuman grip.

"My name is Frost, asshole!"

Dislodging her axis of balance was easy for her, and more satisfying was throwing her against the table in the room, an accurate push in the right direction, and a kick and it was enough to land her body without much effort on the food. It took Rose a few seconds to come to her senses and focus, the gun, it was near the oven, she wasn't a fool for thinking it would be a good idea to have it near. Before Frost could get any closer, Rose rolled across the table to be back on her feet on the floor and reach for the gun, the young woman had stopped a few inches away from it, at what point exactly had she turned the table over? She was regaining her muscle strength, and Rose didn't hesitate to point it in Frost's direction. But it wasn't enough, this gesture didn't intimidate the cryomancer one bit, before Rose could pull the trigger, Frost forced her hands to point at the ceiling, listening as the shots went in the direction of the fire over their heads.

"I don't care if we both die in here, at least you won't be among the humans anymore." Rose no longer looked like the calm-faced woman she pretended to be, the sweat and soot had stuck to her skin, the dark hair looked like it had no shape anymore, her clothes had been torn to shreds with the blow against the table. Rose's gaze was only focused on the girl who was supposed to be her niece, but in her, she saw nothing of value that would make her reconsider their blood ties, saw a stranger with blue eyes with the same intensity as her own, both were determined to kill the other.

"Don't even think I'll die here with you."

In a burst of adrenaline, Rose managed to break free of Frost's grip, didn't seem like to be close to a human and she might never get her point across. The weapon was empty but that was no deterrent to not using it against the young girl. She struck the girl's face just above the right eye, her scream of pain was enough to let her know that she might have an advantage against her. Rose swung her arm in the opposite direction to deliver another blow to the girl's face, her arm resembling a whip. But the movement was interrupted when Frost managed to grab her fist, once again the girl refused to give in, no matter how much she was holding back the pain with deep breaths, they almost sounded like roars of an animal at the limit of its patience. Her eye was bleeding, rather her eyeball was bloodshot and she had a cut under her lower eyelid. Still, it was a sight that chilled Rose's blood, and the pain was present when Frost impulsed her fist into her elbow, she heard how her arm had dislocated and the pain was released from the area in fireworks under her skin. Frost took advantage of the moment to remove her from her center of balance again, if she had her on the ground Frost might have more leverage over Rose. She placed her body under Rose's as she had the damaged arm extended over her shoulder, flipping over her and causing Rose to hit the wooden floor.

It was evident that the old house would not survive the damage, although she had no idea what had caused the fire. Rose had noticed that they were near the cabinet, the food had been scattered on the floor, the pans and other things were beginning to scorch, but there was something that caught her attention. A bottle of oil.

She took the bottle of oil in her hands, and twisted off the cap, removing it with the flick of a finger.

"What are you doing with that?"

Frost had no intention of not using the oil.

"Put down the oil, Eirwen!"

"Shut up asshole."

Rose had realized something late, too late. Frost let the oil drip onto Rose's face, it was a liter of sunflower oil, and by the end, the bottle would be completely empty. Rose tried to block the liquid from her face but it only made her face even wetter, and a few strands of the liquid spilled out onto the floor. Frost could finish the job, though this time, just this once, she wouldn't be the executioner. "You, Rose, should have left me alone, and now I'll do the same to you."

The door could be unlocked or locked, the keys were near the vase at the entrance, for she didn't know whose they might be, however it was, that was her next target. She abandoned Rose to her fate, could hear her screaming for mercy as she walked away, the least she wanted to do was to give her another minute of her life. The fire continued on its natural course of feeding on whatever it could find, soon the fire would catch up with Rose, and no matter how much she cried for mercy, Frost will not save her. Didn't know what she would meet on the other side of the door, be it firefighters, the police, or the apocalypse itself, there is no longer a point of return, well, there never was.

The fire had reached Rose ravenously, heard her scream before she could open the door, the keys were merely hot but Frost couldn't feel them either way. Took one last glimpse at Rose, who was crawling in her direction, engulfed in flames and burns, the oil making the process even quicker and more painful. He couldn't quite make her out because of the fire, nor did he want to watch her in her last moments, but in a few seconds, there would be nothing left of her.

As she opened the door, the sky had been tinted with black by the smoke, perhaps someone would have already noticed it in the distance, the sky darkened by the natural blue of the night, the moon had already settled in the sky, although she couldn't see it because of the smoke. Beyond the chaos she had witnessed and participated in, Frost was relieved, saw a car in the distance and Shawn was inside and seeing that Frost managed to escape, and he got out of the car, heading towards her. Her first steps out of the house were calm, her eye wound was bleeding and her eye was starting to hurt more, walked down the stairs of the porch that she had been shot down before. The wood creaked like a hungry monster, it was the house that was slowly collapsing on its foundations.

Once they met halfway, Shawn helped Frost into the car, into the of the seats of the back. The dress was somewhat burned, the wig hardly seemed to have been damaged, though she took it off almost immediately. She didn't want to spend the next few minutes sitting and watching them leave the house behind, her body couldn't take it anymore. Frost wasn't listening to what Shawn was saying, did he have a plan now? All she cared about was getting the car to start moving forward, and getting away from that hellhole as soon as possible.

#novel #((It got a bit looooong this time))#tw drug mention #tw fire #tw death #tw gore

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

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hey i don't know if there's many fics like this, but i'm an absolute sucker for that friends-to-lovers trope and i was wondering if you could suggest any. i remember especially liking one called "sweatshirt serenade" by nsfwfrerardx on ao3 (i think), and i'd like to know if there were more of that out there. don't really care about explicit or the length.

Hi Nonny!

There's tons of friends to lovers fic out there! A lot of the more canon compliant mcr fic probably has this trope, actually.I hope you find something you like on this list!

Friends to Lovers

Sweatshirt Serenade by nsfwfrerardx, Frank/Gerard, 15k, Explicit. Frank has a crush on his best friend's older brother. Said brother takes his virginity. Basically smut!

Release the Bats by Sena, Ray/Mikey, 10k, Mature. Sure, Mikey's a vampire, but Ray's okay with that. He's still Mikey, after all, still Ray's friend, still dorky and sweet and funny and amazing and, yeah. Maybe Ray likes him as more than just a friend.

Kiss it Better by Sena, Frank/Mikey, 8k, Explicit. Mikey's not a violent guy, but Frank makes him want to punch a fucking wall.

Heart Wrapped in Clover by Sena, Frank/Mikey, 19k, Explicit. Everbody's got their not-so-secret secrets on tour. When you live out of a van, you just can't help but notice things that you shouldn't talk about if you don't want to embarrass your friends or start a fight. Frank wishes sometimes they talked about things, though, because he's dying to ask if anybody else has noticed that sometimes, Mikey wears panties.

Won't Know 'til You Begin by knight_tracer, Sena, Frank/Mikey, 24k, Explicit. In which Frank is an accidental pervert, Mikey sleeps with Fabio, Gerard is much too sincere when talking about pain sluts, Ray is terrible with women and great with guitars, and Otter's got really bad taste in music. Alternately, the one where Frank realizes he has a thing for Mikey, Mikey realizes he has a thing for guys, and they're both adorably stupid failboats.

All That Shit Seems To Disappear When I'm With You by gala_apples, Frank/Patrick/Mikey/Pete, 26k, Explicit. Frank’s been attracted to Mikey for awhile, a feeling that he’s kept carefully to himself. Other people don’t have the same compulsion for secrecy. On the first day of school there’s a short angry boy standing at Frank’s locker, condemning him for making Pete’s life hard. September quickly turns into a month of bad decision making as Frank, Pete, and Patrick deal with Mikey not feeling the same way they do. Except, that’s not true. After all, none of them have actually asked Mikey his side of things.

Sing the Revolution by turps, Frank/Gerard/Mikey, 19k, Mature. A high school AU about brothers, best friends, boyfriends, and a lot of cross-dressing.

You Only Hear the Music When Your Heart Begins to Break by Solarcat, Frank/Gerard, 14k, Teen And Up Audiences. Frank has high school figured out. His mom has given up arguing about the amount of time he spends in Gerard's basement, and he doesn't actually care if people think it's weird that he and Gerard hold hands in the hallways and go to the bathroom together. The only thing Frank cares about is figuring out why Gerard's suddenly avoiding him -- because what's the point of losing your virginity on Prom Night if you can't tell your best friend about it in the morning?

With Words I Thought I'd Never Speak by brynnmck, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Gerard, 11k, Explicit. It's like being with Lindsey has switched on some sort of current inside him, and when he gets up onstage it comes crackling out, lighting him up, sparking off the sweaty upturned glowing faces of all the kids out in the audience, and he couldn't shut it off if he tried. And Frankie is, well, Frankie, only turned up to eleven, somehow, flailing all over the place like a downed power line, leaving a trail of blissed-out destruction in his wake. And his face in Gerard's crotch.

Black Market Blood by autoschediastic, Frank/Gerard, 17k, Explicit. Frank's so fucking freaky he's potentially wigging out a fucking vampire.

see your moves by morphosyntactic, Frank/Mikey, 1k, Explicit. The thing is, Frank has been waiting a long ass time to get in Mikey’s pants.

Buzzed by synonomy, Frank/Gerard, 6k, Mature. "You should," Frank gets out between snorts, "you should cut your hair." "What?" Gerard wheezes. "No, it's just - it's all stuck up." Frank shuffles forwards on his knees and then his hands are in Gerard's hair. Gerard's laughter dies down abruptly. Frank's fingers are surprisingly gentle on his scalp, ruffling it up, carding through it. "We'd probably have to wash it first, though," he says thoughtfully.

Picture of Health by brooklinegirl, Frank/Gerard, 11k, Explicit. They've been on tour for less than a week when Gerard sees Frank hooking up with the dude from Twin Atlantic.

your money where your mouth is by endlessnighttimesky, Frank/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. "If you have to go to the ER after this you won't blame me, you mean?" Frank grins. "I take full responsibility," he agrees. "Now put it in me, baby."

Mostly Dead by ky_betty, Frank/Gerard/Mikey, 20k, Rated R. Frank and Mikey get turned into vampires and Frank's not sure he can deal with being a monster.

Whatever I Want (Whatever That Is) by brooklinegirl, Frank/Gerard, 9k, Explicit. The first time Frank walked in on Gerard going down a girl in the dressing room, he was pissed.

Between the Wish and the Thing by ciel_vert, fleurdeliser, Frank/Gerard, 24k, Explicit. Gerard has been in love with his best friend and bandmate for years. It sucks. Especially because he's convinced himself that Frank does not feel the same. But a series of events including a long overdue break from touring, gastroenterology specialists, a new puppy and a visit from a know-it-all brother and his smart-as-hell wife, make Gerard question his assumptions.

Choice by silentdescant, Frank/Mikey, Frank/Gerard/Mikey, 1k, Mature. Frank can't keep his crush a secret.

Kicked In The Balls by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, 4k, Explicit. Baby's first bandom fic. Of course it's all about the stagegay.

you weaseled your way into my heart (and ferreted out my feelings) by akamine_chan, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Mature. You gotta watch out for those bands with umlauts.

straight up by Trojie, Ray/Gerard, 26k, Explicit. Ray will one day blame years of the kind of friendship that involves one person opening the other person up to a host of new, exciting life experiences they wouldn't otherwise have got, and the second person in return spending a lot of time hovering in the ED trying to remember the street names of colourful pills, for what happens after he walks in on Gerard in their hotel room.

I'm Not Sleeping (Trust Me) by Dira Sudis (dsudis), Frank/Gerard, 12k, Explicit. They didn't get any sleep while they were making the "I'm Not Okay" video.

For a Different View by impertinence, Ray/Mikey, 50k, Explicit. AU. Ray Toro is a girl, Rae, but MCR is still just MCR.

#frank/gerard #frerard #ray/mikey #rikey #frikey #frank/mikey #frank/patrick/mikey/pete #frank/gerard/mikey #lindsey/gerard #ray/gerard #fic rec list

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ayellowcurtain · 5 years

Text

SKAM NL S3 EP4 - Lucas Van Der Heijden

EP 3

Lucas is looking at the other one. Milan really doesn’t know him or he wouldn’t be there, talking to him now. But Milan has a smile that could make the world bow down to his wishes. If he only knew how much power he already has over Lucas.

“What? What are you waiting for?” Lucas frowns, looking at Milan and his skate. He’s already on it, doing little circles around Lucas while he waits for his answer. They’re in the middle of the school, with a bunch of teenagers passing by them constantly, sometimes looking back to double-check what’s going on between them.

“I’m not going with you on your skate!” He looks around, nobody is paying too much attention, but they are still at school and it feels weird to be with Milan in public.

They’ve texted a little over the weekend, started right after the incident in the kitchen when Milan left Lucas and Esra to go home by himself. Whatever is going on between them it’s only getting heavier, stronger, but Lucas still needs to get used to Milan’s attention constantly on him like they’ve known each other or like they have something going on. Nothing happened, but it feels like it did. And it’s obviously a bad idea to go with Milan, they can’t fit in one skate.

“C’mon, just get on my back.” Lucas is sure that Milan can carry him on his back, but it’s so fucking dangerous.

“No, I know a bad idea when I see one. I’m sure Jayden can borrow me his bike.”

“If it was Kes with his mini scooter you would go with him.” Lucas looks up to meet Milan’s bright brown eyes. He’s teasing Lucas, but there’s also some jealousy that Lucas hadn’t notice before. And how does he know that Kes has a scooter?

So he’s jealous of Kes...

“Yeah, it’s a bike. Not a skate.” If Milan wants to be a little brat, Lucas can play that part too, they are barely acquaintances and Lucas doesn’t have the patience right now.

“Ok, whatever you say. Guess I’ll go home then. We’ll hang out another time.” Milan pushes his skate to start moving again, still looking at Lucas while he gets out of his sight, making a smooth right turn after the school gate.

Fuck.

Lucas shouldn’t be falling for this guy. He’s not at all like Lucas and he keeps pushing Lucas’ buttons, constantly trying to throw him out of his comfort zone. Yeah, he would go on a bike with Kes. Because it’s Kes.

Maybe Lucas was just misreading Milan. Maybe he just wants Milan so bad that he sees meaning and intent where there’s none. They don’t know each other that well, Lucas can easily be mistaken about Milan’s feelings. What’s stopping him from breaking up with his girlfriend if they’re not in love anymore? They seemed in love, making out while dancing together.

“Friday was fun, yeah, but I’m super busy with Zoe today, maybe another time?”

Lucas reads the message for the hundred time. Milan has to be kidding. It’s just a sentence, but Lucas feels guilty and dumb. Why text him and pretend like they haven’t seen each other since Friday? Why bring up Friday again? Lucas only said he couldn’t hang out a few days ago and now Milan wants nothing to do with him.

He drops his phone by his side on the couch, not knowing what to answer, watching Jayden and Esra eat whatever they made for lunch.

It was another long, sleepless night. Lucas is exhausted and also tired of not sleeping. Maybe moving out was a bad idea, at least at home he could always find some medication that would help him sleep in days like these.

“Hello” Milan passes by him way too close to Lucas, walking behind him and stopping on his other side, leaning against the green lockers. Lucas looks around, there’s nobody there and Milan seems to be in a good mood again.

“Hi.” He opens his locker, shoving some books inside and picking his notebook and some pen that he just randomly found in between his books.

“Are you going to whatever costume party it’s happening this weekend?” Lucas doesn’t ask for help, but Milan helps him anyway, coming closer and holding his books while Lucas opens his backpack to put everything inside.

“Not sure...you?” It’s hard, but Lucas manages to keep looking at his things and not at Milan. He doesn’t want to sound interested even though he is. He can feel Milan’s eyes tracking every little movement that he makes so he tries not to falter too much or the other one will notice what happens to Lucas when he’s around, looking at him like that.

“I might. We should hang out before, maybe drink some beers at my place, sounds good?” Lucas finally closes his bag, putting on his shoulder again, holding the straps of his bag tighter as he has no other option but to look at Milan now.

“...Sure.”

Milan gives him another one of the bashful smiles and nods his head, looking around them and then back at Lucas.

“Sweet. I’ll text you my address.” And he walks by way too close to Lucas again on his way out. Maybe this time they’ll finally be alone for a couple of hours.

The coffee table is already filled with beers and all kinds of drinks that Milan offered them through the night. Lucas was trying to be polite and sober, but then Zoe started talking about how she’s living with Milan for a couple of weeks and he couldn’t do it anymore.

Now he’s so close to being drunk. Lucas just started actually drinking and now his body is working in slow motion, he’s getting tipsy. His night was ruined. If he’s being completely honest, he thought it would be just him and Milan, but it’s not, it never is and when it is, one of them is always ready to fuck it up. Mostly Lucas.

Milan doesn’t seem happy either. He’s snappy and they are constantly disagreeing even in the smallest decision like what time should they order the pizzas. There’s no way Lucas is staying all night long with them and Emma.

Kes is out at some party and Lucas is more than ready to go there and get shit faced with his friends. He moves slowly to the end of the couch, further away from Emma, to grab yet another beer, opening it and Milan does the same one second later, catching Lucas’ attention with the loud pop he makes opening his beer. Lucas can see Zoe staring at her boyfriend with threatening eyes.

“I think that’s enough beers for a pre-game…” She tries not to sound harsh but fails and Milan looks at her right away, drinking his beer, clearly just to upset his girlfriend.

“I think that’s enough of you for tonight or maybe this week, maybe a month…” He relaxes against the back of the couch again and Lucas just wants to leave right at that second and maybe even take Emma with him, that’s how bad their company suddenly feels.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom…” Zoe gets up, her eyes are watering, Milan doesn’t seem regretful of what he said. Maybe he is, but he’s too angry and embarrassed to care. Emma gets up and follows the other girl. Lucas can hear when one of them slams the door at the end of the hall.

The only thing he can do is drink and look down at his own shoes, biting the inside of his lower lip. He can feel Milan’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, just stays there if Milan needs him for anything.

“What time is it?” Lucas is caught a little off guard so it takes him a second to look at Milan and understand what he’s asking. He lifts his hips from the couch to grab his phone inside his back pocket.

“22:22” Milan raises his eyebrows, really looking at Lucas now, slowly getting back to his normal.

“Really?”

“Yeah...why?” Lucas puts his phone back in his pocket and drinks a little more as Milan turns his head back and finishes his beer at once, putting the empty can back on the coffee table.

“Must be a sign, let’s go.” Milan gets up, dropping his wig of fake golden locks of hair back on the couch, waiting for Lucas to follow.

“Go where?” Even if he doesn’t know if this is the right thing to do, where they’re going, Lucas gets up, leaving his beer behind.

“Anywhere.”

There’s no real reason for it, but Lucas’ heart is beating so fast. He feels like he could do anything right now. Milan keeps looking back and a little down to find Lucas and he smiles at him. His cheeks are just a little red from the breeze hitting him directly, but it doesn’t seem to bother him too much. Nothing seems to bother Milan right now. The wind is also making Lucas just a little more sober, but not enough to make him regret leaving two girls behind to go anywhere with Milan in his small bike.

He said it’s been a long time since he last used his bike, but it doesn’t seem like it, must be the adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he’s biking like a pro. Lucas has to hold back the urge to actually hug him, put his cheek against the soft fabric of Milan’s shirt.

Lucas couldn’t care less about someone seeing them, he’s happy and he won’t let himself overthink it.

Milan stops after a few more minutes. Lucas has no idea where they are, he was too busy watching the muscles of Milan’s back sticking out through the thin fabric of his shirt every time he needed to get up to pedal, but Milan is looking at their right and Lucas follows his eyes.

There’s a lake right next to the tiny lane they were just biking on. Milan starts moving and Lucas gets off the bike too, following Milan down the tall grass to get closer to the water.

Maybe they’ll just relax there for a little, Milan is probably a little tired. Lucas looks around. It’s a very wooded street behind them where they left the bike. The full moon is right on top of the lake, giving it a pearl-like glimmer on the surface of the water.

It feels calming, the water is almost completely still, there’s no breeze to cold down the summer night. Lucas turns his head when he hears a wet noise, Milan is getting inside the lake already, only wearing his black briefs. His clothes are in a messy pile on the grass right next to Lucas and he’s cursing as he walks carefully to get in the water, lifting his arms a little over his ribs to avoid instant contact with the water.

Lucas can see how he’s holding his breath, all his ribs showing as he gets deeper and deeper and then he plunges and reappears a second later, cursing again. It’s a very hot night, Lucas’ shirt is completely wet on his back, glued to his skin, and he unbuttoned the first two buttons to cool down when they got to the bike after running downstairs to escape the girls, but there’s no way the water is even slightly warm. Milan is clearly shivering and yet he swims a little, always looking at Lucas.

“Come.” He invites as he floats in the water. It’s tempting, but it wasn’t on Lucas’ plans to swim tonight.

“I’m not that hot, seriously.” He looks around again, there are only a few cars passing by the street behind the lake, but nobody seems to notice them there, it’s a narrow pathway to get to the lake from the street so they’re probably safe.

“C’mon, Lucas!”

“Milan, I’m tired and drunk...let’s just go somewhere else, please.”

“No, get in, right now! The water will help you relax.” Lucas takes a deep breath, looking around the lake, knowing well he won’t go anywhere if Milan doesn’t go with him.

So he takes his jacket and shirt off, dropping on top of Milan’s clothes, walking on his tiptoes to the lake, making sure that he knows where he’s stepping. The water is definitely too cold, feels like knives are cutting the top of his feet, but Milan is right there, with a big smile on his face, waiting for Lucas and so he pushes through it, slowly getting in. His pants stick to his legs and it’s hard to move, but Milan is not that far away now.

“You’re fucking crazy.” Milan laughs and Lucas stops just to hear it, savour the loud and contagious sound. His whole body is shaking from the inside out, he’s so close to freezing, but this is one of those moments that he’ll always remember.

“You have no idea.” They’re sort of floating around way too closely. If Lucas moves his arms just a few centimeters, he’ll touch Milan’s naked arms or torso. And he wants to do it so badly, to know how his skin feels or if he’s as cold as Lucas is. He has to bite his lip not to say it out loud how badly he wants to kiss Milan.

Maybe he doesn’t have to say it, it’s hard enough to be above the water, but they manage and Milan is always looking at him, saying a thousand words that Lucas wishes he could actually hear. He doesn’t want misunderstandings this time.

Milan is the one to come even closer, looking at Lucas’ lips and then to his eyes and Lucas just lets him do whatever he wants.

“Let’s see how long you can stay underwater.”

“I’m really good at this, you’re gonna lose. You sure you wanna try it?” Milan just smiles and nods his head, going just a few centimeters back so they can both have some space to swim.

They count down and sink at the same time, holding their breaths. It’s so dark underwater, almost pitch black, but Lucas can feel Milan close, the water moving with every move he makes. Sometimes the moon crosses the water and lights up just enough for him to see how close Milan is. Lucas forgets about how cold the water is as soon as Milan touches him, his hand quietly coming to the back of his neck.

Everything happens way too quickly for his liking, but Milan kisses him, his hand in Lucas’ neck holding him in place. It’s just a soft and messy touch of lips and it only lasts a second, but Lucas is suddenly out of breath, holding Milan’s wrist and emerging before him.

Lucas only has a second to calm down and not burst into loud laughter before Milan appears too, looking at Lucas with expectations, but Lucas is still recovering, trying to understand what just happened and Milan smiles.

“I won!” He moves his arms and they’re a little farther away than before. Lucas opens his mouth, but doesn’t say a word, he can still feel Milan’s touch against his skin, his lips against Lucas’.

“You cheated so it doesn’t count…”

“What? I didn’t cheat! There were no rules so I didn’t cheat!”

“I need a rematch then.” Lucas knows his intentions showed on the way he said the words, the way he is probably staring at Milan. He can see that Milan understood his words when he nods his head a second later. “But you can’t touch me.” Milan nods his head again, already taking deep breaths.

“Whatever you say.” So Milan does the count down and Lucas goes underwater, opening his eyes to watch Milan submerge right in front of him, keeping his arms open so Lucas can see that he’s not even trying to touch him again.

Milan is always smiling, but he has different smiles. The one he’s using tonight and right now tell Lucas all he needs to hear. He doesn’t wait, coming closer and kissing Milan again. His hands at the sides of his neck, pulling Milan closer and he’s still smiling and not touching Lucas.

He lets Lucas kiss him and he only moves when they’re going back to the surface, his arms finally holding Lucas by his waist, keeping Lucas close to him, pulling his entire body as close as he can get to Milan’s.

They stop and Lucas lets himself open his eyes and really look, not even bothered by the streams of water rushing down his and Milan’s face. It’s embarrassing how his breath comes out erratic when he exhales through his mouth, making the other one to smile again.

Milan is in front of him, resting his forehead against Lucas’, breathless, staring back at him. His hands are holding Lucas’ waist tighter as a sign to go back to what they were doing and Lucas obeys, kissing him again. It’s hard to stay still and properly kiss when they’re also trying to stay above the water, but it doesn’t matter. Lucas is finally kissing Milan. It’s languid and too wet, but Lucas couldn’t ask for something more. He wanted this kiss for so long. And Milan is a good kisser, sliding his tongue along Lucas’ top lip to open his mouth wider and deepen the kiss.

#skam nl #lucas van der heijden #dutch!even #skam netherlands #NL S3

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elliyoyo · 5 years

Text

Good Girl (Roger Taylor/Reader)

Finally, I’m back. This took forever, but I’m super proud of it and I personally think it’s some pretty good smut. This is a part 2 to Naughty School Girl and directly references it at one point, but it could totally be read as a stand alone. Hope you enjoy and forgive me for going ghost on writing for so long!

This is dedicated to @queen-irl-af who always hypes me up, @rogerinatrash who seems like she’d get a kick out of this, and @rogerina-deacon who I absolutely adore. Love all of you and hope you enjoy this filth <3

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, dominant reader, sub(ish) Roger, spanking, riding, name calling, teasing, running make up, unprotected sex (please... use a condom... don’t get STDS or babies), and the usual band shenanigans.

Words: ~2.6k

There were few words that described how you felt when you finally saw Roger in his full Rogerina get up, as if was lovingly dubbed by the rest of the boys. One was definitely horny. The other was confused. The last was damn.

Since you had ridden him senseless when you saw him in just the skirt, you had been both excitedly and dreadfully waiting for the day you saw him fully done up as a school girl. It hadn’t been evident to you before last time, but you seemed to have a thing for your beautiful, “used to sometimes mistaken for a girl” boyfriend dressed more feminine.

From the small heels on his shoes to the way his lean legs looked in tights to the lacy black bra he had insisted on wearing under his white blouse, he had you hooked. He could tell you to jump off a cliff and you would gladly kiss him as a goodbye present and take the leap with a wide smile, thinking about how that damn skirt looked flowing over his ass.

And he knew exactly how it was affecting you. He would emphasize some of his movements on purpose, only giving away that he was doing it for you when he’d scan the crew to find you after the cameras stopped rolling for a moment. He’d sway his perky ass a little more than he had in the previous shots, then shoot you a smirk as soon as he saw that your eyes were glued to his backside.

He really was being a naughty school girl. And you were going to treat him like one.

The second the director called for a break and let the boys do whatever they needed, you grabbed Roger by his tie and quite literally pulled him towards his dressing room. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, fully aware of what was about to go down and fully ready to play along. He even flinches when you loudly slam and lock the door behind you two, playing up his pout when you push him onto the couch.

“What the hell was that?!”

“What? I’m just doing my job— looking pretty and mouthing the words,” he innocently mumbles, crossing his arms with a huff. You raise an eyebrow at him and your jaw drops in shock at the attitude he was giving.

“Doing your job? Your job of being a little fucking tease?” You quickly strut over to him and tear his wig off, throwing it to the ground. “Are you a professional slut now?"

"I'm lip syncing and pretending to do dishes, so yes, I'm doing my job— of being an actor," he sasses, crosses his arms like the brat he knew he was being. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You're being naughty right now, what do you mean?!"

"Am not!"

You slowly inhale, collecting yourself before giving him the sternest look you could muster. You grab him by the chin and tilt his head up, trying to be gentle as you plead, "Rog, babe, don't fight me on this. All you’ve done today was strut around, showing off your ass and legs in these perfect little tights. You're trying to get me riled up, aren't you?"

He is silent and unmoving in a hesitating moment, giving his motives away. He plays up the pout on his pretty little lips and meets your eyes, gently nodding at you. He takes a moment to formulate an explanation before mumbling, "I… Remembered how it went last time I wore this and was naughty, and I wanted to do it again.”

“Oh, baby… All you had to do was ask. Or did you want to play a little game with me anyway?” You twirl a strand of hair on his wig and give him a playfully sinister smirk. He nods eagerly, eyes darting between your fingers and your own eyes as he can feel himself begin to get excited. “Then play the game, sweetheart. Tell me what it is you want.”

He opens his mouth a few times, trying to think of how to explain it to you without turning bright red. He doesn’t do a very good job, as his caked on blush becomes nothing in comparison to his now-flushed cheeks. You brush your finger over his matte lips, getting some of the pink lipstick spread on your fingertip.

“I’ll leave you high and dry right now if you don’t tell me what you want me to do. Is that what you want?”

“No! No, please don’t leave, I… Fuck… I want you to… Spank me,” he says, lowering his voice more and more as he goes on. His embarrassment was at an all time high and he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, even if he knew they were true.

You smirk and squint down at him, pushing your finger into his mouth so he could run his tongue over it as you teased him more. “So… You want my hand turning your ass bright red? Are you going to finally tell me why you deserve that, baby?”

“… I was naughty…”

“There we go— was that really that hard to do?” You pull your hand from his mouth and roughly pull him up from the couch. You nudge him towards the dressing table and give him a gentle slap on his thigh to get his attention. “I’m going to go tell the boys that you need a break for a second. When I get back, I want you bent over that table with your underwear around your ankles and skirt flipped over your ass or else I won’t let you come tonight.”

With that, you presses a small kiss to his temple and head out, trusting him to do what you said. You close the door and simply head towards the rambunctious noise of laughter. There you find the boys, who take a moment to realize your presence.

"Hi, (Y/N)!"

"(Y/N), hello, didn't realize you were here!"

"Would you like a drink, darling?"

"No, I'm alright. I just came to let you guys know, Roger isn't feeling too good, so I'm just going to make him drink some water and rest until they call you back in." The lie effortlessly comes off of your tongue, due to Roger's bad influence and constant habit of sex in not-so-private places.

"Oh, well… we hope he feels better," Brian says with a small smile, nudging the other two who say similar things before going back to their drinks. Before you leave, though, Freddie gives you a small, knowing smirk. You wink at him to let him know that he’s thinking the right way before heading back through the doorway.

When you get back to the room, you have quite the sight before you. Roger Meddows Taylor is standing bent over his dressing table, precisely as you asked him to be. Lacy panties and tights around his ankles, skirt flipped up over his bare ass, and his cock already rock hard against his stomach. You lock the door behind you and slowly make your way over to him. He whimpers with anticipation as you walk closer and you see his knees shake when you gently drag a finger over the curve of his ass.

"Perfect… Look at you, all ready for me, baby," you coo, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "How many should you get today, Rog? What d'you think?"

"As many as you think I need, (Y/N)."

"…How about one up from last time? Ten sound good? It'll get you all worked up for me, but it won't keep you from sitting at the drums if they need you to re-record anything," you suggest, carefully phrasing your want to not hurt him too much as something to do with his work instead.

"However many you think I need," he repeats, giving you a pleading look in the mirror that begs for him to finally feel your hand on him. You put a hand back on his ass and kiss his shoulder before swiftly spanking him. “One!”

“No, no, I didn’t tell you to count— I just wanna hear those cute little noises you make,” you chide, giving him another (much harder) spank on the same exact spot. He lets out a small grunt of pain at the familiar but still uncomfortable feeling of the first few impacts. “You can do better than that, give me a cute little moan, baby.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, giving you a small nod. Spank after spank, he lets out a higher pitched, much louder moan than the previous time. You can feel yourself soaking through your underwear, and possibly even your pants, before you have a chance to catch a look at his face. When you finally cease spanking him, he turns around and whips his hands down to cup his glowing red ass, feeling the heat radiating off of it.

“...Oh my god, you look so fucking hot, Rog— look at that makeup.” You swipe a finger under his eye and watch the watery black lines of runny mascara follow your fingertip. He’s sniffling and whimpering and his pretty pink lipstick is smudged beyond belief, along with the blush lining his cheeks. “You look like such a pretty little baby.”

“Your pretty little baby?” He looks up at you with the perfect mix off puppy dog eyes and bedroom eyes, begging for something more than what you had been giving him. You lean in and kiss him, smearing some of his makeup onto your face as you do so.

“Of course you’re my pretty little baby, who else’s would you be?”

“Nobody’s. Only yours,” he says, a small smile creeping up his cheeks. He presses his lips to your cheek and laughs at the sloppy yet dainty lipstick mark that it leaves.

“Alright, alright, come on— I think it’s time to have some real fun.” You pull him up and along with you to the small couch. You push him down the same way you had before, bending down to get in his face and tease him. “You want me?”

“Mhm.”

“How do you want me? On my knees again? Or maybe riding you? You’d like that— me letting you lay down and watch my tits while I slam down on you…"

"Can you please ride me? And face me?" He reaches for your waist and gently rests his fingers on your hips, pulling you towards him.

"Why d'you want me to face you— I thought you liked pulling on my hair and staring at my ass?" You straddle him, positioning yourself so that your chest is perfectly in front of his face. He takes a moment to answer, which leaves you unsure if it was because of his view or because he genuinely didn't know.

"…I wanna be able to kiss you… And… Well," he trails off, pressing small nipping kisses to the exposed parts of your breasts.

"I think I can deal with that for a day, you purr, putting a hand in hair to push him further into your chest. He lets out a muffled groan, hurriedly reaching to pull your jeans down by the belt loops. You laugh at him, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he tears them apart completely.

He's getting his lipstick all over your chest, small pink smudges across the curvature of your breast and pink lip marks perfectly made around your nipples. You simply caress his wig, letting him treat you like a goddess for a moment before you tilt his head up by his chin and lean down to kiss him.His mouth is still warm from your skin and you can feel his saliva wet every bit of your lips, but you honestly couldn't care less— it's pretty hot in the moment.

"Alright, help me out of these underwear and I'll finally let you stick your cock in me," you whisper, smirking against his lips. "But don't tear them, I really like this pair, Rog."

"Gotcha." He carefully pulls the lacy pair down your legs, tossing them towards the door. "Can I…?"

"Of course, baby. Go ahead— fuck me good."

And oh, does he. He slides a hand down to part your lips and position himself, but then it's really just him fucking up into you instead of you riding him. He's so desperate, you couldn't set the pace if you tried, so you just sit there and go with his, relishing in the feeling of his tongue and teeth back on your breasts.

"Roger, sweetheart, that's so fucking good— please go harder!" You dig your nails into his shoulders, leaving marks with the fierce bouncing motions his thrusts are causing you to have.

"Yeah?" He presses one last kiss to your chest, staring up at you in a lust-filled haze. “You like it when your baby fucks you like this?”

“My baby? You mean my baby girl?” You bite your lip, watching him perk up and groan, loving the return of the nick name. “You absolutely love how riled up you get when I call you that, god, it’s so hot, Rog.”

“Please, please, pleasepleaseplease keep calling me that,” he begs, his voice more gravelly than usual. “I’m gonna come if you keep that up, (Y/N).”

“Keep what up, calling you my—,” you lean into his ear, pressing a kiss to the slight bit of sideburn under the wig, “— sweet little girl?”

He whimpers and shoots you a pleading look, but you simply smirk back at him, continuing to praise him and occasionally leave bite marks and hickeys here and there on his collar. It reaches a point where you can feel his thrusts slowing down and his hold on your waist tighten more than you thought possible.

He gives you a desperate, teary eyed look, begging you to grant him the permission to come. You do so between moans and memorizing the feeling of his fingers on your hips, rolling your hips one more time— just slowly enough to let him know it was okay. He throws his head back, his hips wildly meeting yours for a moment before stilling as he spills inside of you. He keeps his eyes closed, leaning back on the couch with a small content smile on his face, before looking up at you.

“You’re amazing. Absolutely amazing. C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you down for a kiss. He sighs happily and lets his fingers drift from your cheek to your neck, back down to your waist.

“...The break is going to be over soon.” You sigh and press a few more kisses to the corner of his lips, slowly raising yourself up off of him. You turn around and end up sitting by his side, leaning your head on his chest. “Let’s hope they can fix everything quick and they don’t kill us for ruining it,” you say, gesturing to his messed up wig and smudged makeup with a proud smirk. “Even if they do, it was so worth it.”

“One hundred percent worth it.” He presses another gentle kiss to your hair, then gets up to fix the outfit up a bit. “Get your clothes back on and let’s go see if the boys left any snacks for us.”

You do. They didn’t. But you can’t find it in yourself to care about your rumbling stomach— not when you got to watch Roger mess around with that “I Just Got Fucked” glow.

#Roger taylor #Roger Taylor imagine #Roger Taylor x reader #queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #iwtbf #I want to break free #smut #n/s/f/w

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warmbeebosoftbeebo · 4 years

Text

Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably

much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology

tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]

----

You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.

You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...

You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.

“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.

“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”

“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”

He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”

“What'd you dress up as?”

“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...

“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”

They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.

“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”

The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.

“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”

He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”

You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”

“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.

“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.

“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”

Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”

He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”

“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”

“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”

You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.

He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."

You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.

"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.

"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.

"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"

"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."

"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.

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angelhummel · 5 years

Text

5x05

Jumping right into this episode bc I hate myself lmao

Blaine shaking his ass while cleaning up the choir room is great and then the rest of the episode is all down hill tbh

"Blaine, this is nothing to be embarrassed about!” ... “This is a revelation!” Mr. Schuester please stop talking and also don’t touch your students like that

TWERK-TORIAL I’m literally gonna die Mr. Schuester what the fuuuck

Didn’t they say Jenna was the best at twerking but Tina had to be bad at it? We were robbed

Why even bother filming a five second scene at a hair salon if Rachel just got a fucking wig?? I still maintain she should’ve actually cut her hair like that because it’s so cute

Also I Am Woman is not a sexy song... What is this guy on about. Also if he didn’t like Rachel’s hair, literally everyone wears wigs on Broadway anyway. Jeez

I was about to skip this song but I said I like Rachel as Fanny better than Rachel as herself and I stand by that. Also idk about you guys, but when I think twerking, I think Funny Girl

Oh no this is the bathrooms episode. Ugh

Wasn’t twerking like getting stale by the time this ep came out? Also every time they say “twerk” my soul dies a little. Except for “our god given right to twerk” bc that’s hysterical

Oh no Blurred Lines noooo. It’s been nice knowing you guys

Seriously, why has Schue not been arrested yet? He should’ve been taken in about a dozen times by now

Okay I got to see Jenna shaking it so that makes it a little better. And Blaine and that hip thrusting move on the table... good times

“You need to back your ass up to the fact that you, a married thirty-seven year old just performed a song about coercive sexual advances as nine minors twerked alongside you down the hallways of a public high school” “It’s called the first amendment!” oh my goddd

Omg this episode also has shirtless Kurt yaaaas. Holy shit I remember we all lost our collective minds over this. It was so worth the wait though

Oh wow this Unique number was great. I almost got a little teary eyed.

Also holy shit I really do love this New Directions better than the old New Directions. At least the guys. Jake and Ryder were so ready to kick some ass on Unique’s behalf. Where was that for Kurt, Finn?? Okay well just Finn I guess, since everyone else was ready to throw down tbh

“We appreciate you moving this school board meeting to our auditorium because we don’t have any more sets”

Oh I love this montage of dances though. So great. Blaine and Kitty look so fucking cuteeee. And Marley?? Holy shit.

“Do you want to be on the right side of musical history?” Oh my god. This is honestly so funny. Like I hope no one is taking this seriously lol

Aww Unique and Blaine used the same MLK quote as each other

“Are you dyslexic? Or illiterate? Or a charlatan?!” Kurt baby oh my god

oh my god the tattoo guy is like “I don’t wanna hear everyone’s bs story behind their tattoos” .5 seconds later “What are you even doing here? Tell me everything!”

“It’s femme-ophobic!”

There’s something just so funny about season five and these last two episodes really highlight that. Like can you picture Rachel Berry on a wrecking ball? Quinn Fabray? Santana Lopez? Nah. But Marley on a wrecking ball?? Why not. I guess bc old gen Glee had The Climb and Party in the USA and new gen Glee has twerk demon thinks-she’s-black Miley

Okay Will’s little bit with Unique was actually pretty good. I gotta give him props for once. “No one should have to work so hard and risk so much just to be themselves” ugh

Also wow Rachel had me crying. I think early s5 Rachel is the longest I’ve gone actually liking her. From 5x01 all the way to about Frenemies I think. But I draw the line there :P Actually maybe from some time during s4 all the way to 5x09. Wow that’s a looong time of liking Rachel, especially for me...

Actually I liked this episode more than I remember. It’s just a silly fun good time. You really need something like that and A Katy or A Gaga after something like the Quarterback

#glee #tdb rewatch #tdb rewatch the end of twerk #episode: the end of twerk #season 5 #5x05 #my thoughts #long post

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mamgt · 6 years

Text

Knowing You

Spideychelle One-Shot

Summary: MJ volunteers to be Peter’s date to Tony Stark’s engagement party

Author’s Note: I hate these kinds of tropes where you only find the girl pretty once she fixes herself up but LIKE I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. Zendaya SERVES when she goes on red carpets so can you imagine a LOOK from her as MJ. Damn. MY. WIG. But she’s pretty even when she’s in sweats with no make-up so it doesn’t matter. But I hope you enjoy this. We stan a malfunctioning Peter Parker when he sees his love HAHA

(credits to the owner of the gif)

“No offense…” MJ started.

Peter raised an eyebrow to her and Ned looked just as confused.

“Okay. Full offense, but why do you look more like shit today than yesterday?” She directed this at Peter who did look like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. Besides fighting criminals every night, Peter was fighting his own battles that teenage life throws at him: rejection. Specifically, rejection from several girls in his school who he asked as dates to Mr. Stark’s party to celebrate his engagement to Pepper. You would think that having connections to New York’s beloved hero, Iron Man, would score Peter at least 1 date and leave the rest fighting over him but no. He was still just a loser, a nerd, a nobody in high school so much so that no one actually believed that he was working with Tony Stark. If only they knew he was actually Spider-man.

Ned explained the situation to MJ to save Peter from repeating embarrassment. MJ continued to munch on her fries and looked over to Peter who had buried his face in his arms that were weirdly bigger since last summer.

“So what’s the problem?”

“Of course you don’t get it” Peter mumbled from behind his arms.

“He has no—“ Ned interjected.

“—date. Yeah, I caught that. Can’t you go with him” MJ asked Ned but her eyes were fixated on Peter’s head and how some of them had curls at the end and the others didn’t.

“I can’t. The relatives are coming all the way from the Philippines. I can’t miss that not even for Tony Stark or my mom would definitely not let me see the light of day.” He chuckled.

“I’ll go.”

“What?” Peter’s head shot up and him and Ned said this at the same time.

“You hate parties…” Ned said smugly because MJ was being sarcastic, wasn’t she? MJ simply shrugged.

“And dressing up… You have to wear a gown…” Peter said.

“Yeah. So?”

“You don’t have to, MJ. I-I’ll be fine. I mean, it’s not THAT bad, right?”

“It sort of is…” Ned whispered.

“Dude!”

“What?! It is! You can’t just show up to one of the biggest parties of New York without a date! This is bigger than homecoming, Peter. You show up without a da—“

“Okay! Okay! I get it.” Peter looked at his hands before meeting MJ in the eye, “Thanks for your..”

“Pity?” MJ completed.

“I was going to say…kindness?”

“It’s pity.” MJ said matter-of-factly.

“Okay….” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Pick me up at 7:16 pm” MJ stood up and walked out of the gym, leaving Peter and Ned confused.

“Wha—Why? Why 7:16?” Peter turned to Ned.

“I don’t know, dude. It’s MJ.”

At exactly 7:16 pm Peter was facing the faded green door of MJ’s apartment where she lived alone. The place was shabby and rundown where the wallpaper was either peeling off or had been eaten by who knows what kind of bugs. Peter has been here before with the rest of the decathlon team. After three knocks, the lock would automatically open. MJ invented this so that specific code knocks would let people in. You could hear several locks click open. Why does she have so many locks? Peter wondered. He turned the knob and walked in. He closed the door and the locks immediately clicked back into place.

“MJ?” Peter called out.

Michelle walked out of her bedroom fiddling over the clasp of her bracelet. She wore a low neckline maroon slip dress made out of silk that fell effortlessly on her slim body. A slit would peek every time she would step with her right foot revealing black pumps that shimmered in the light. She had her hair down with big curls instead of her usual natural small curls that landed delicately on her exposed shoulders. She wore minimal to no make-up but her face still glowed in the dim light of her little apartment. All that was needed was the bracelet if it would just cooperate and snap itself into place.

“Uh...Can you help me?” Michelle said to Peter but he was spellbound, unaware that his jaw hung lose and he stopped breathing. Michelle looked up and gave him a face and shook her head. “Never mind, you’re useless” and got her bracelet on.

“So are we going?”

Peter was frozen. His feet were glued on the spot he stood in. She was breathtaking he thought. He had always thought Michelle was a kind of pretty but not THIS pretty. She wasn’t the pretty most people saw and what most popular girls look like. She was beautiful in silence as she read with the sunlight trapped in her curls. She was beautiful when she laughed even if it was to his expense but seeing her like this was different. Seeing her now like this, brought a new different feeling that Peter couldn’t quite point out. His heart was racing and his palms were heavily sweating that he feared that if he had to hold her hand it would be so damp.

“Hey, dude? Are we going or what?”

“Uh…uh…y-y-yeah…?”

Michelle pursed her lips before turning away from him and walking out the door. Peter followed her out and the door automatically locked itself behind him. They walked down the apartment building in silence, Peter trying to put his scattered wits together enough to say something nice to Michelle or else he feared, she would think he was a jerk for not saying anything. He tried out different compliments like, “You look great, gorgeous, beautiful” all these were true but his mouth was stapled shut. He kicked himself and continued to trail behind MJ like a little puppy. Aunt May was waiting inside the car and as she caught a glimpse of Michelle she immediately beamed.

“You. Look. INCREDIBLE!”

“Thanks, May….” MJ said shyly as she and Peter stood awkwardly in front of the car.

“Well! Peter open the door for her!”

“Right! Right!”

“It’s fine…” MJ reached for the handle but Peter beat her to it. He opened the door and wore the biggest smile on his face. MJ gave him a weak smile, trying not to show how nervous she was and upset that he had not complimented her yet. She bent down and slid into the car as gracefully as possible and Peter thought how could someone make sliding into a car look so magical? He slid next to her and Aunt May just looked at them, more at Michelle than at Peter.

“You really look pretty, MJ. Doesn’t she Peter?” Aunt May probed. Peter started to turn pink, embarrassed by his Aunt.

“I-uh…” Peter managed to choke out. MJ looked at him from the corner of her eye.

“Peter looks good too.” She waited for Peter to compliment her back or at least say something like ‘thank you’ but he didn’t.

MJ crossed her ams and scooted a little closer to the window and peered out as they drove through Queens.

“Of course! I helped him pick out that tux if it wasn’t…” but Aunt May’s voice was drowned out by MJ’s thoughts on Peter. She’s never actually admitted to anyone especially to herself that for some time she felt something for the Midtown High’s nerdiest boy and she would never admit her disappointment that Peter hadn’t said two words to her.

Peter on the other hand kept looking at MJ, trying to muster up the courage to say something to her even if it’s not a compliment because his tongue seemed to be tied up every time he plans to say “You’re pretty.” As time passed, the more he got nervous. Every time he looked at her she seemed to grow even prettier under the street lights, in the dark as the car passed a tunnel, in the awkward silence she gleamed. When they finally stopped in front of Stark’s residence she looked like a deity.

“Mr. Stark, this is MJ” Peter and Michelle climbed up the glass steps of Tony Stark’s house where he found the owner himself perched up on the balcony with champagne in his hand.

“Oh! MJ! I’ve heard so much about you!” MJ shook his hand and looked a little confused.

“It’s an honor to meet you...” MJ said.

“He hasn’t actually talked about you, sorry. Not much of a blabber the kid but nice to meet you,” Tony added and they all laughed.

“That’s fine. I’m nobody, anyways…” Michelle replied.

“But you do look familiar…” Tony stared into her eyes because even from afar there was something about this girl.

“She’s the captain of our decathlon team!” Peter piped in.

“Hm. Have we met before?” Tony was now suspicious because the more he looked at her features the more he was sure that there was familiarity in that face like someone he had met before in his younger years.

“I don’t think so…” MJ’s heart was thundering but she kept herself composed. It was true that they have never met before but she wasn’t surprised that Tony seemed to know her. This was what she was afraid of. She swallowed. She was beginning to feel the panic rise up to her throat.

“I don’t think you’ve met her before Mr. Stark…not that I…know of…” Peter said his voice treading the awkward silence.

“MJ? Right? You don’t have a last name?”

“Jones!” Michelle said a little too quickly. “Michelle Jones.”

“Ah.”

Peter looked from Tony to Michelle wondering what was going on. His brows furrowed to a deep V and he felt like he was outside looking in. Meanwhile, MJ regretted coming to this stupid party. Of course Tony Stark would recognize her but she needed to get away before he himself realized he had recognized her.

“Do you wanna dance?” MJ turned to Peter.

“Oh okay, sure.”

“Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark” MJ said as she pulled Peter away and hurried to the dance floor where the lights beamed from the trees. It looked like fireflies swarming around the backyard but they were actually little bulbs that Tony had built. Relieved to get away, MJ took a deep breath in. She looked at Peter who was gawking at her.

“What?” MJ asked.

“What happened back there?”

“I don’t know…” Think of something, anything so he stops asking questions. “You must be talking a lot about me” she joked. Peter went bright red, all the way to his ears that protruded from his head. They were basically screaming for attention. He mumbled something that Michelle didn’t catch even if they were just inches apart.

“Huh?”

He mumbled again so she leaned in, to put her ear side by side with his mouth.

“You look amazing” he whispered as if catching his breath. She bit her lips and smiled.

“Thanks. You don’t look bad either,” she whispered in his ear.

As if on cue, ‘Just The Way You Look Tonight’ was being sung by the live band.

MJ suddenly became aware of how close they were. She couldn’t pull away because that meant looking him in the eye so she contented herself in having her head side by side with his, her hands holding his shoulders and his arms around her waist. They swayed to the music and it was like floating in a lake where the clouds were reflected on the water so it was like you were swimming in the sky.

Peter pulled back so that their eyes met and their noses were but a centimeter apart. She could see every detail of his face, like the wrinkle in the corner of his eyes as he smiled so widely at her. He could see every detail of hers too from the eyelashes catching the light of the mechanical fireflies to the darkness and shades the shadows casted on her face that made her more mysterious.

“Thanks for coming with me, Michelle.” The way he said her name sent an electric current down her spine and she feared that her feelings were starting to become more real.

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