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ladamedusoif · 5 months

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Hot Chocolate (Marcus Pike x gn!reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 3

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist. FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, turn on notifications for my posts.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!reader

Rating: Mature

Word count: 1280 words

Warnings: Implied smut, some heavy making out, Marcus being an adorable foodie romantic art nerd, fluff city. No use of Y/N and no physical descriptions of Reader whatsoever.

Summary: Snowed in and forced to stay over at your colleague’s Georgetown apartment, Marcus whips up a sweet treat to keep you warm.

“I don’t have much by way of dessert,” Marcus muses from the kitchen, where he’s peering into his fridge.

You finish gathering the last of the takeout boxes from his dining table and begin cleaning them out at the sink. “You’ve given me a room for the night, Marcus, I don’t need dessert. Hey, where’s your recycling bin?”

He gestures to a cupboard near the sink and leans back on the counter, thinking. “Actually, would you like some hot chocolate? I think I’ve got everything I need.”

Everything he needs?, you think, wondering what more you could possibly need for hot chocolate beyond some powdered mix and milk. Marshmallows, if you were feeling fancy.

“Sure, sounds good to me.”

He grins in delight and starts rummaging in a cupboard, emerging with bars of dark chocolate and a jar of ground cinnamon, before delving into the fridge and retrieving milk and heavy cream. A heavy-bottomed saucepan is produced and positioned on the hob as Marcus mutters something about finding his grater.

This isn’t going to be cheap-ass powdered mix, is it.

Alright, full disclosure: if someone hooked you up to a polygraph machine and asked you if you had a teeny tiny harmless little workplace crush on Marcus Pike, you’d have to answer in the affirmative.

And who wouldn’t? He was kind and funny, and smart as hell, quietly undertaking a PhD in art history and cultural policy at Georgetown while continuing to work full-time. He was one of the few people in the team who actually kept up with the art world, regularly seeking you out after a new show opened at the National Gallery to exchange your thoughts on it over coffee in the canteen.

The fact that he was also really cute didn’t hurt, either.

When snow and ice blocked the routes out of DC back to your place in Alexandria, leaving you stranded, Marcus immediately suggested that you stay over at his place. See? Kind.

“I’ll be fine, Marcus, really,” you’d protested, searching for hotel rooms in the city and recoiling when you saw the prices - and the lack of options. “Anyway, isn’t your place a one-bed?”

Marcus shrugged. “I’ve got a big couch, spare blankets and pillows, and I won’t stand by and see you hunkering down here for the night. C’mon. We’ll get takeout - I know a great little Korean place.”

He carefully grates the dark chocolate into a bowl while you whisk most of the cream.

“Y’know, I really thought you were going to pull out a couple of sachets of Swiss Miss? I should have known better.”

Marcus chuckles to himself and checks the saucepan of milk. “Usually I’m a Swiss Miss kinda guy, I have to admit. But when you have guests, you do the Viennese hot chocolate. I like to make a fuss.”

You hold out the bowl of cream for him to inspect and he nods, eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. You put it down and fold your arms as you watch him work.

“Is it really Viennese, or is that just a name they use to make it sound all fancy?”

He laughs and looks at you in mock horror. “Of course it’s really Viennese! I even had it for the first time in Vienna.” Marcus takes the saucepan off the heat and adds the chocolate along with some sugar, a little cinnamon, and a dash of heavy cream. He begins to whisk the mixture carefully.

“It was one summer when I was a student - I had almost no money, but I did have one of those European Interrail tickets and I tried to see as much great art as I could. Took an overnight train to Vienna to see the Klimts at the Belvedere.” He pauses his whisking to assess the texture, then resumes.

“Like I said, I was down to my last few dollars - or Euros, or whatever the currency was at the time - but the one thing I was gonna do besides see the Klimts was go to a real Viennese café.”

The hot chocolate is frothy now, thick and glossy. Marcus nods in the direction of a cupboard and you open it, finding some mugs.

“So I’m guessing you got to a café.”

He turns off the stove and smiles at the memory. “Sure did. Café Central. It was like something out of a Stefan Zweig novel.” He takes a ladle out of a drawer and proceeds to fill the mugs with the steaming chocolate. “And I had a mug of something a bit like this - but much, much better - and a slice of apple strudel, and it was heaven.”

Marcus finishes off the chocolate by placing a large dollop of whipped cream in each mug, and hands one to you.

“This is…incredible. I don’t think I can ever go back to Swiss Miss.”

Marcus chuckles and sips his chocolate, sitting beside you on the couch. “I’m glad you like it. Perfect drink for a snowed-in night.”

You take another deep draught of the delicious, smooth drink and hum happily to yourself. “And I’m checking out flights to Vienna first chance I get.”

He looks at you intently. “Uh, you’ve… uh…”

You can see a giggle rising in his chest. He can’t suppress it, and he laughs out loud.

“Why is the thought of me going to Vienna so funny to you?”

Marcus’s expression shifts to one of concern and he quickly shakes his head. “No, that sounds wonderful - you’ll love it - it’s just…” He reaches over and gently rubs the tip of your nose with his thumb, removing a large blob of whipped cream. “You had a little, uh, something.”

“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” You look down into your mug, a little embarrassed, but try to lighten the mood. “Feels like we’re in a scene from a cheesy holiday movie, y’know?”

He quirks his head. “How so?”

“Oh, you know. The whole ‘one character has whipped cream or something on their face and the other has to swipe it away and then…’”

You stop short, realising what you were about to say - and becoming very aware of just how close you are to him now.

Marcus’s voice is warm and low. “And then?”

Is he moving closer?

“And then… um. And then they usually, uh…”

He finishes your sentence by leaning in and kissing you, softly, gently at first. Your breath hitches as you feel the softness of his lips on yours.

He breaks away for a second, staying close. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s…it’s great.”

He takes your mug and puts it on the coffee table before cradling your face in his big hands and leaning in to kiss you again: a little harder, now, his tongue seeking entry to your mouth as your hands reach for his body and you lean back on the couch.

You moan and whine with pleasure as you feel Marcus’s hands caressing your body, taste the bittersweetness of the chocolate on his lips and tongue. As he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking and nibbling and licking his way along the sensitive skin, you begin to unbutton his shirt and reach for his belt buckle.

“Marcus?”

He looks up for an instant, hair tousled and eyes as deep and dark and shiny as perfect hot chocolate.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight. You’re keeping me warm in bed.”

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fluff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

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luveline · 2 years

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I’m in love with steve zombie au! maybe readers having a really down day and steve has a gift for her? something he found on his last supply run or they’re on one together and he gives her something, ily!

tysm for ur request! ily! ♡ fem!reader zombie!au

The kitchen cabinet closes with a very neat click. It's an amazing sound. Astounding, even. Steve might say it was one of his favourite sounds in the whole world, though what comes next trumps them all. You laugh, an off-kilter sound but a laugh all the same.

He's so relieved he can physically feel the nausea of his worry abate.

"What's funny?" he asks.

Your face flickers between downturned and ironic. "I was just thinking, and I know this is weird- But I think I miss doing the dishes."

Steve laughs. It's not what he'd been expecting you to say.

"The dishes?" he repeats questioningly, leaning back against the countertop behind him to fix you with a look of fond amusement.

"I know, it's dumb." You push your freshly washed hair from your face and stare at him. Steve suspects you might be staring through him, mind somewhere else. Sure enough, you shake your head and clarity returns, frown worsening. "It's stupid. I just- just miss everything about it. Eating at the table, putting them away. Having somewhere to put them away."

He understands. How could he not? Steve's been with you almost since the beginning of the line, and he knows you're both more than old enough to have lived vibrant, simple lives chock full of creature comforts before all of this.

"I miss changing the sheets on my bed," he says.

He doesn't need to expand.

He misses having a bed that was his. He misses sleeping in the same bed so much that he needed to change the sheets. He misses the sound of the washing machine, white noise.

You cover your eyes with both hands, the meat of your palms hooked under your eyebrows.

"I shouldn't think about it."

"Maybe not." Steve walks toward you until his shoes bump yours. Another thing to miss — taking off his shoes. "But I get it. I promise."

"I know you do. Sorry, I'm being childish."

Steve couldn't agree any less. He doesn't think it's childish to want to go back to before the apocalypse began. When he knew where all of his friends where and that they were alive. He misses Robin so badly it's like somebody cut one of his bones out and the wound healed over without anything to heal over. Just a lump of nothing where she used to be.

But he'd only go back with the stipulation that you could go with him.

"Know what I miss more?" he asks.

"What?" you ask, dropping your hands.

"I miss knowing what day it is. What did we decide? It's nearly Christmas, right?"

You shrug, clearly unaware of his scheming. "Maybe late November? I think when the sun starts to set earlier we'll know."

Because neither of you has any clue about timekeeping you've taken to best guesses and approximations. Steve's watch displays the time, and if it's still working properly — which you both prefer to assume it is — that means the sun has been setting at around 6.30PM for a few days now. Hence, November. Hopefully.

"Wanna pretend it's December?" he asks.

You smile. It's a funny thing. Steve supposes you're not used to him making many jokes. He's trying to be better.

"What for?" you ask suspiciously.

"It's in my bag," he says, nodding his head back to the living room.

You follow him into the living room. Windows boarded with two layers of plywood, you and Steve have to light a candle to see even in the day. He gestures for you to sit on the opposite side of the coffee table and sets a red candle between you. It smells like pomegranates. He'll probably never eat pomegranate ever again. He tries really hard not to think about it, instead focusing in on your face, illuminated by yellow light.

He can't help thinking about how pretty you are.

"I got this at Morgan Mall. Where you-"

"Almost died in a walk-in freezer?"

He has the good graces to wince, hands coveting a small parcel box from the depths of his rucksack. "Right."

"What is it?" you ask as he procures the box.

He slides it across the table. "Open it."

Steve gets mad whenever he thinks about Morgan Mall, and the abject fucking horror when you'd started screaming. It had been fear like nothing he'd ever felt, not the first time he'd seen a geek, not even the first time he'd killed one. He can see it clearly, his desperate hands on the door handle, pulling until his knuckles had turned ivory white.

He'd quite liked the moments after, though. Your hug. Your lips covered in chocolate pudding, sitting across from him on the couch shaking but unquestionably alive.

"It's a Christmas present," he begins, watching your cut up fingertips dig under the small box's lip. "So remember you had it. I can't afford another one."

A joke that won't land. Everything is too raw today, and that's alright.

"I hope you like it," he says honestly.

You ease the lid off.

It's a necklace. Silver chain, short enough that the chances of somebody getting their fingers under it and pulling you are low.

"Is that real?" you ask.

"I think."

It's a very simple necklace. Short chain and a small diamond.

"A diamond?"

"I had to smash open a display case."

Your head snaps up. "You did not."

"No, I didn't," Steve says, chuckling at your shocked expression, "obviously I didn't."

"Obviously," you repeat. Steve suspects he'd find your cheeks flushed with heat if he knelt over the table and tried it. Something inside of him begs him to. Just- Just lean over. Hold her face.

"I don't know if you wore anything before," he says.

"I've never had a diamond."

Steve likes that, shamefully. It's a nice feeling to be the first person to give you a diamond. It doesn't mean anything now that money's worthless, but back then it might've signified something different.

"Do you want me to help?" he asks, worried. You haven't taken it out of the box.

"What if I break it?"

"I'm sure I can find you another one."

You take the diamond between two fingers and rub at it with your thumb. Whatever it is that you feel, you enjoy. A smile spreads over your lips.

Steve pulls himself beside you and you turn. Back to him, you pull the necklace carefully from its black velveting and hand it over without looking.

He sits up to drape it over your chest and then pulls the ends together until the diamond is perched a centimetre below your collarbones. He has to try extremely hard to get the clasp open. His heart rate hikes up a touch as his thumbnail flicks against the clasp, trying to keep it open.

He finally gets it closed and let's it fall against your neck. You look down immediately.

"It's so sparkly," you murmur.

He bites his lip to stop from smiling. Self-satisfied doesn't suit him, not anymore.

Steve places a hand at your neck and stands, brushing his fingers tenderly up the curve until the very last second. "Let's have dinner, yeah? We'll eat on plates. You can even wash them afterward, if you want to."

He can hear your smile. "Do I look like somebody who does dishes? I have a diamond."

Steve makes a meagre but not totally awful dinner for the both of you and you eat it side by side, sharing a book you'd found in the bedroom. He knows you're waiting for him to catch up, your eyes stuck at the bottom of the page.

He keeps getting distracted by your hand on your thigh, so close to his own. While your busy flipping to the next page, he reaches out with his pinky to tap yours.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You tap back. "Why wouldn't I be?" you ask.

It's an awful attempt at redirection. You're terrible at hiding your feelings. Steve likes that, too.

"You're reading really slowly tonight."

"I am not! Shithead, you're the one holding us up."

"Sorry, some of us actually had fun in high school."

You glare at him. It's not convincing, your lips pinched up into a contagious grin.

more steve zombie!au

#steve zombie!au #zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic

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clearwillow · 2 months

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Hi, I really love your work, especially the Mating Fever Series. If you are still doing the writer's asks, could you answer:

🍬

🔪 🦷

Thanks!!! I appreciate what you do!!

Hi @serstudiesalot! That's so nice, thank you! Yeah, I can still answer the writer asks!

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I feel like Sesshomaru as a character didn't get a lot of personality beyond "older sibling gets the raw deal" and while I think it's great that fandom has been out there building lore for him, it's hard for me to actively seek out new creations featuring him. No fault of anyone in recent years - but way back when I got blindsided in fics where he was put up on a pedestal at the expense of a lot of other characters, and it didn't sit right. Give him good points, give him faults, make him fart in his sleep, but it's not doing him any good if the only way to glam him up is to dump pig crap on everyone around him, you know? Unless there is literal pig crap and he's set up some elaborate prank, then it's just funny.

But I've seen that done with many characters across fandoms through the years. Like Relena-bashing fics, iykyk

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I've covered merman bullshitting/pantsing lore and looking for guy's perspective on different things, so there's not a lot of other weird stuff I've researched, I don't think? The closest behind those might be searching for pranks as inspiration for the plot of a fic I haven't started yet. Which...there's not a lot of good pranks anymore. It's all about being mean or trying to physically hurt another person, which isn't what I was wanting at all.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

If you don't have the means to make coffee when the power's out (maybe you don't have a kerosene heater for some reason, don't own camping equipment, etc) all you need is ground coffee, coffee filters, twist ties, a pot of water, a cookie sheet rack, and tea lights.

Place 4-5 tea lights on a saucer, light them, and slide it under the cookie sheet rack. Fill the pot with water and set it over the lights.

Take a coffee filter and put however much coffee in the center. If you've only got a Keurig or some other fancy machine you're SOL I guess unless you can McGuyver it. You're going to bring the sides up of the filter to create a sachet; tie it off with the twist tie. If you want to get the same strength as your coffee machine, make two. Drop them in the water when they're tied tight and cover with the lid.

It will take some time but it does work. I had to use this method when we had no usable outlet in our kitchen after an electrical fire. Don't like coffee? Soup will heat the same way. Or you could brew tea. Just keep an eye on the tea lights and swap them out as they expire.

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whumpitisthen · 1 year

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If you ever feel so fancy as to do a part 2 or similar drabble to instincts i will be available to tattoo it on the entire landscape of my back and/or worship it throughly 👀🙏🙏

i dont usually write second parts, but i do also like that one a lot, and you asked very politely......

first part

Lonely...

"Wh-Why do you do this?"

He's been sitting there for a solid ten minutes in complete silence, enduring the maddening, constant scrutiny glaring from his left side. The tea he has prepared is swiftly growing lukewarm, no longer steaming languidly on the coffee table. He hadn't dared to move an inch once it perched next to him, weighing heavily on his mind and on the sofa cushions as its presence grew and materialised so close, so dangerous.

He hoped it would leave him alone today. It hadn't visited for a few days, — not in a physical way, only as an ever unnerving pressure on his body that wouldn't go away. Yet, that hadn't stopped the nightmares worming their way into his brain each time he tried resting while it was around. He is tired, and weary, and weak. That is why he planned on a serene little movie night spent in front of the mind numbing screen, on his own; to hopefully distract him, or even put him in a mercifully dreamless sleep. He desperately wished it would leave him just a little longer.

However, it seems it knew just the worst time to 'come see him' — as it so likes to put it. More like break into his home, harass him, question him and then torture him, only to leave him in a state barely sufficient to let him patch himself up for next time. Or stay and do it itself, making the healing stage into another opportunity to learn about humans as it messily fixes him up like one would a machine.

'Why? Why do you feel the need to do these things to me?'

He can feel it blink at him, can see its head tilt to the side, and can almost hear the phrase come before it murmurs, — "I do not understand."

Of course it doesn’t, this is perfectly normal for it. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nevermind,” — he tries, already knowing that it’s too late.

As expected, it growls impatiently, yet somehow, he can’t find it in himself to do more than squeeze his eyes shut and sigh, instead of flinching and curling into himself.

“I do not like when you don’t answer me. What do I do that awakens your curiosity?”

That’s one way to put it. Curiosity.

“You just, just stare at me all the time. I know you do, eve-, even when you’re not, when I can’t see you.”

“I am here to learn from you. That’s all I ever want,” — it replies matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” — he murmurs, voice full of a hopelessness that only a severe lack of sleep and a terrifyingly inescapable situation can bring.

“I do not. There is nothing better for me to do. I enjoy this the most,” — it exclaims happily, unaware of the offending tone he used. Sometimes, it’s fortunate that it doesn’t get how parts of the human speech works, such as sarcasm, or expressions.

He doesn’t say anything, and that confuses it. He simply stares at the moving pictures on the television blankly. It feels his nerves lit on fire, yet it's a much fainter feeling, and his reactions are wholly uninteresting. In turn, that almost makes them more interesting to the creature. It wants to know what’s wrong with the human today.

“You are boring. Why are you boring,” — it asks, though the sentence ends in more of a period than a question mark. It’s quite funny, the way it asks things sometimes. He smiles to himself, knowing full well delirium must be hitting him hard for him to find the courage to smile in the presence of this monstrosity, fully capable of tearing him in half in a split second if he doesn’t supply it with entertainment and learning opportunities. It would find joy in it as well.

“Why am I boring?” — he asks, holding back a giggle. He still doesn’t look at it. He would quickly lose his humour if he did.

“Yes.”

“What do you mean? Why am I boring?”

It falls quiet for a moment, glancing at the TV again.

“You do not care that I am here.”

He knows he should not, but his mind only finds the situation more hilarious with every word.

“What, are you, y-you getting lonely now? Should I grab a blanket and cuddle close, so you feel loved?” — he chortles.

It finds his tone unnatural. It doesn’t understand it, but it makes it feel wrong. Small. It feels small.

“Am I lonely? Explain, please.”

He only taught it pleasantries like please and thank you some number of weeks ago — it still feels entirely unnatural to hear it say the word he has said to it so many times before, to no avail. It says it like it couldn’t just pull an answer out of him with no issue. It has learned to be more patient, at least.

“Do you not know what loneliness is?”

“I asked you so. Why do you sound like that? You sound wrong,” — it remarks, certainly perplexed by his relatively calm demeanour. It is so used to watching him panicking and stuttering up a storm, flinching at every little movement, that hearing any amount of confidence or joy, and feeling any amount of serenity emanating off of him is throwing it off. It must feel very wrong to be looked at with anything more than wild fear to it.

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, loneliness is like… It has to do with being alone, obviously.”

“It’s not very obvious to me,” — it grumbles.

“Yeah, I know, I know. I-It’s… kind of hard to explain, honestly. Um… It’s when you feel sad, when you are alone. Like when you’re on your own and there’s no-one to talk to. It’s depressing. So most people find someone else to, to help with that feeling, so they are no longer alone. That’s loneliness.”

“Hm…” — It thinks for a while. He can see it struggling with the concept, already trying to think of another way to explain before it asks. What it says next surprises him however, — “being alone doesn’t feel bad. I am always alone. You said when something feels bad it is because whatever is happening should not be happening. It’s not unnatural, therefore it isn’t bad.”

His smile disappears. Of course. Humans are social creatures, surviving by building relationships and helping each other out. It isn’t a human. He doesn’t know how it feels about being around another one of its kind. Is there another one of it? He doesn’t dare think about that.

“W-Well… It’s a human thing, I guess. We survived so long, and got to um, where we are by being there for each other, but I g-guess you don’t need that, do you?”

“I have noticed there are many humans near each other. It is rare to find one all alone. I assumed it was like how it is with ants or bees. Is that not right?” — it wonders.

“Not really. It’s more, um… familial? Like a pack of wolves or something. I don’t think bees take care of each other, only their queen and larvae.”

“I see. So what does it feel like? Being lonely?”

He bites back a yawn, swallowing it down. He reaches for the popcorn on the coffee table, deciding he might as well snack before it ultimately decides to hurt him at some point tonight. He hasn’t found the motivation to eat much all day.

What does loneliness feel like? How is he supposed to explain that to a thing that might not even have another one of its kind?

“Uhm… It’s a bad feeling. For us, at least. You feel like… You need to be around someone. Depending on how bad it is, you, uh, might even feel the need to be around strangers. It feels like you are going mad. Like, uhm… I don’t know, like crushing? Hopeless? This one’s… hard to explain,” — he finished, throwing some more popcorn into his mouth. He is watching the movie on the screen, but his brain is not picking up on anything that’s going on around him besides the creature next to him.

“Hm…”

It doesn’t say anything for a long time. So long, in fact, that he would almost forget about it entirely if it didn't shuffle closer to him, watching him intently for a reaction. Even through the thick haze of fog engulfing his brain, he tenses and shuffles away on instinct.

"You are not lonely," — it decides. It doesn't understand still what loneliness is; otherwise it would know that he is lonely enough to crave human interaction of absolutely any kind, enough that he sometimes dreams that the creature that follows him around wherever he goes isn't such a horrid being, that he managed to teach it how to be human and no longer hurt him and to care for him like another person would. He hallucinates, sometimes, because he's just that lonely. Or maybe it's just the sleep deprivation. Both.

"Why do you think that?" — he inquires, half-caring about the answer.

"Because I accompany you. You are never truly alone. You do not crave my touch. You are not lonely."

"And you are not a person. Why would I care about any of that?" — he snaps suddenly.

It goes silent again, and his very soul is trembling. He knows he messed up, he shouldn't have said that, even it isn't dense enough to miss a direct insult. The glare coming from the side is burning him, and he subconsciously apologises in his mind, almost certain it can hear it. He's so tired, he just wants to pass out already.

When it finally chirps up again, he fully expects a claw to tear at his face, — "I am not a human. But I am a person still." — He only now realises that it isn't looking at him anymore. It's an awfully unusual feeling, to feel its presence but not its gaze, — "is that not right? Can I not be a person if I am not a human?"

Now it's his turn to think. He never thought about it like that. When he says person, he immediately thinks of a human, but if that's how it is — does that mean that another intelligent alien race, for example, would not be considered people? A member of them wouldn't be a person? That doesn't sound right.

Why is he thinking about this like he's afraid to hurt this monster? Why did it sound like it was hurt by his words? It didn't, he just has empathy and assumed he had hurt it. Like a person. Or a human would, at least. Then again, there are shitty humans out there too.

"I'm… sorry," — he says, unsure how to answer in a way as to not dig himself into a deeper hole, — "I just never thought of anyone to be a person if they aren't, um, human. But you're not like, an a-animal or something, are you? So you are still a person. I think."

"What does being a person mean to humans? I thought being a person meant having higher intelligence than animals, but that doesn't seem to be true. You are not answering me straight," — it accuses him curiously. Its gaze is back on him, watching him again. Its voice is a little deeper, and he assumes it's because he has angered him. He wishes it would just get it over with and attack already.

"I-It-, I'm n-not sure! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, i-it was an honest mistake — I just never really thought about you that way…"

"If you do not see me as a person, then what do you see me as? Am I really an animal to you?" — it questions relentlessly, leering down at him with an intensity that feels like a physical weight is crushing his body into the sofa, curling into itself, — "you see me as a critter."

"No, no, no I don't! I-I just don't know what you are! You're not a human, nor an animal, but I have no idea what to f-, call you! Pl-ease, I swear I d-didn't mean it!" — he clambers to apologise, already gathering tears behind eyes squeezed shut, lifting his arms to shield his head from claws flying through the air. To his surprise — and relief — none comes.

“...Am I lonely?” — it asks itself, all animosity gone from its voice, — “I do not know. I have always been alone.”

When nothing else is said for long enough, he uncurls his arms from over him and finally summons the courage to look at the creature next to him. It is once again deep in thought, trying to figure out if it feels lonely or not. No matter how many times he is forced to gaze upon it, his skin crawls all the same. An inky blackness of eyes and claws, long thin limbs appearing and disappearing at its will. Sometimes it has long, dripping hair, other times horns or antlers. He can only guess it changes its form depending on its mood that day. It barely looks humanoid, some demon of hell — he had to learn how to sense its emotions through its rough cover of shadows himself through trial and error, and still he has trouble understanding it fully. He doesn’t get a chance, most times, as he is the one being questioned, or tormented. This time is different. Unusual.

He releases a shaky exhale and swallows, feeling his tired heart beat an almost painful rhythm against his chest. It’s dizzying, to be so stressed when his brain is barely functioning from lack of sleep. He finds it hard to sit, and leans to the side instead, catching himself on the arm of the couch. Though curious, even if he dared to say anything more to it, he is having trouble getting his thoughts in order long enough for his brain to sew together a sentence.

“If I was lonely, that would mean I would want to be around other people. Interact with them. I interact with you a lot. Maybe I am lonely.” — It goes quiet periodically, trying to decide for itself, but it doesn’t seem very successful at doing so. — “I don’t understand,” — it comes to say finally, turning to him again for more answers. It seems unbothered by his state.

“Uh-uhm… Mm… Maybe I said it wrong. I don’t think it’s um, only your own kind you want to be around. Wh-When you’re lonely, I mean. Sometimes, when I’m lonely, it helps to just hang out with some of the, uh, stray cats that w-wander up to my windows, sometimes. I, I um, like petting them. And their purring. They’re very nice to, to me…” — he mumbles, hoping that no more questions come, as he is having more and more trouble resisting the ever gentler pull of unconsciousness.

"You crave affection from animals?" — it coos at him, almost mocking, but not for long, suddenly growing silent again. It makes a groan, a sound akin to some kind of wild raccoon, and he has no idea what it means — yet, upon looking at it, it's clear it is growing restless. — "...Affection from less intelligent beings. Helps with loneliness. Am I lonely? Am I lonely?" — It repeats the question for the hundredth time, asking itself more so than him by now. It seems frustrated. The clawed ends of its slender fingers flex around a pillow. On one hand, he finds it humorous, the act reminding him of kitties making biscuits — on the other, he is so relieved those sharp things aren't digging into his abdomen yet.

"If you have to, t-to think about it this long, you probably are. You just, d-don't wanna ad-admit to it," — comes his wavering voice, supplying it with more confusion. It retaliates by placing one of its hands around his closest ankle, sending a harsh shiver all the way up to the nape of his neck. The way it closes those frigid digits around his leg wakes him right back up — a familiar feeling, to be woken up so ruthlessly by it. It tilts its head at him again, clearly bothered by his accusations.

"How could I admit to something I don't understand? That sounds moronic. You are stupid," — it growls triumphantly, reminding him of his sister. So quick to anger, and just as stubborn. Except he isn't quite as afraid of his little baby sister as he is of this cosmic horror gripping at him with its ice cold sharpened appendages. The horror that is probably trying to grin, and instead only succeeds at showing off all of its terrifying sets of teeth in a horrid snarl. He had not realised until this moment that it has a mouth on its torso, cleaving it in half as it opens. He has acquired a new fear.

His mind is overrun with images of the thing pulling him towards its horrifying torso-mouth by the ankle in its grasp, chewing him up bit by bit as it keeps pulling him deeper and deeper into its disgusting, black, tar body, mauling him completely. If he managed to survive the mutilation, the rest of him would be tossed into a vat of acid that is its stomach, digested agonisingly slowly. His wide, purple-black, terrified eyes are stuck on it, and it notices his staring, unfortunately, before he could.

"Wh-, y… yes, y-y-you're right. Maybe I am. Please stop touching me now."

He can't help noticing its eyes crinkle in amusement, thoroughly enjoying bullying him into submission as it always does, — "You were being very brave today, all the way up until now. What's wrong?" — Its grip tightens, those blades it has the gall to call 'nails' already making paper cuts all along his exposed skin. One finger — a thumb, if it has any — is caressing the length of flesh slowly, back and forth, distressing him greatly. Its eyes glow unnaturally, glinting in the dark, and it hurts, it physically hurts his body to be so scared right now. His heart beats much too fast all too sudden, his breaths come quicker than he feels capable of, his skin crawls with the cold sweat covering the entirety of his back pressed against the armrest of the sofa. It watches him tense in its clutches with utmost glee, considering pulling him a little closer by the little red lines it already caused, just to hear him whimper at the burning pain. — "Don't tell me you've lost all conviction already?"

He barely remembers to reply, utterly lost in those intense eyes and rows upon rows of teeth grinning at him, — "Ih-, it was just, a joke! I wasn't being serious — p-please let go of me, I can't — "

"I am only joking too. Why are you so upset?" — It's laughing at him, it's mocking him, but he doesn't have the brainpower to even try pulling away, too wound up in his fear.

"I get it, I get it, just please, please just let go, I don't want to, I c-can't, I can't…"

It is so proud of itself, but he can't even be mad at it. All he notices is a glint in its eyes, a horrible sign he has learned to fear as much as the arrival of the abomination itself — it has got an idea.

It giggles to itself, and that sound feels like a promise of pain, — "I would let go, but, you see…" — It is leaning down over him once more, but it doesn't stop there. It comes closer and closer, grabbing hold of the back of the couch and another leg for balance, climbing on top of him, and his brain finally activates, much too late, to force him to struggle away. He can't anymore, not that it would have helped. — "I am just so lonely. So very lonely I am. I need interaction with other beings! I need to be very, very close to another person so I can feel their warmth. I need to touch them and keep them close. I need it, you see. I am very lonely."

"Ah-, wait n-, no, stop!"

Something is dripping onto him. Saliva, blood, who knows what it is.

"I'm so lonely…" — it muses, forcing his head back so it can bury its head under his chin.

It is breathing on him. He can feel its ice cold exhales right on his neck.

"Get off of me!" — he yells out in desperation, no longer caring to please it — he is positive he will scream if it starts nibbling on him.

"Huuu-mannn..." — it drawls lazily, draping itself over him. He can feel at least three pairs of limbs enveloping him and it's suffocating.

"God, just, just stop it already, please! I-I said I'm sorry," — his own voice quivers, suspiciously close to crying. He's certain it can feel him shivering.

"Mmm… No." — Its voice is reverberating through his entire chest. He gasps when a finger slides over a fresh enough bruise from their last meeting, the expulsion of air forming into a rather pathetic sound as he tries to choke it down.

He squirms under it, gasping for air, until he finally stops, grasping how truly futile it is to fight it. He lets out a defeated keen of misery, and sobs. He cries under it, no longer having the energy to care about what it thinks of him. Whether it finds him pathetic or amusing, whether it mocks him or hurts him. He wants to be anywhere but here.

It says nothing, for a while. It doesn't move, however. It must just be listening to him weeping, enjoying it as much as it was enjoying mocking him, just like it was enjoying going through with its devilish plan to get him to this point. That's all it ever wants; to watch him upset and hurt.

When it talks, it is so sudden he jumps in surprise, — "You are the lonely one here, truly. Unable to handle even this much affection."

He doesn't find it in himself to answer. He wishes it wasn't so good at hitting where it hurts. It snorts out something of a chuckle.

"If you ask me sweetly enough, I will consider purring for you. Like your stray cats."

No answer, not even a small sound of disdain aimed at it. It tries again.

"Would you like that?"

Nothing. Only calm breaths, long and peaceful.

It lifts its head to look at him, confused by the sudden change, and finds him passed out like a light. It hadn't known he was so tired. Maybe another effect of loneliness? It is unsure.

It hums in thought, watching him sleep like it always does. It's interesting to it; the concept of sleep. It loves the way its human looks while he is unconscious — it rarely sees him so content. It tried to sleep a couple times, but it doesn't think it succeeded.

"Lonely little human…. My lonely little human…" — it hums.

A haunting melody. Its voice sounds so unnatural and guttural, like a broken radio playing a broken record. It doesn't fully understand music yet either, so all it does is repeat the same tune and the same words. To it, it's comforting, while the human described it as a horror movie soundtrack. It doesn't matter to it; it likes humming.

"I like your company," — it murmurs, — "perhaps I am lonely too…"

It isn't sure, but what it is sure about, is that it likes comforting its human an awful lot. It doesn't think it comforted anyone before. It isn't even sure it's doing it right.

It feels right, at least, it thinks before clicking off the TV with a rush of static, and the darkness.

< Masterlist

#whump #my writing #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #fear #nonhuman whumper #sadistic whumper #cuts #dehumanisation #dehumanizing language #suffocation #mentioned eating of whumpee #mentioned gore #it took a while i know #in my defense i was releasing a book #ask #sordayciega

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khodorkovskaya · 7 months

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06.10.23

i had a sort of "light at the end of the tunnel" moment this week. in the sense that (1) i received my grades like printed out like physically on paper and seeing it like this made something in my brain tilt. it's a list of every single subject id taken for my bachelors and every single grade id ever received. and at the bottom it says "the degree is successfully completed". and i swear something in my brain shifted. i was like "ah, here we are, all is good now".

(2) although ive been struggling with my new status as an econ major lol it's also been a kinda satisfying. bc my maths background is really paying off. like THIS is what it was all for. i understand things others don't. and it gives me this like sort of satisfaction like, the struggle's in the past, all is good, it was worth it. and my perception of myself is different. i feel like im worth something. im not just a student. im still a student obviously, but i already have a diploma that's worth something. i no longer feel like a nobody, you know?

and (3), i think the biggest change in perspective i had this week is that my zurich friend got a job. not a student job, not a little freelance job or whatver, no... like a job job. six figures, company phone, cubicle, coffee machine, paid pension, paid holidays job job at a big international company. he literally finished his degree on monday and here we go.

and it's funny bc you know how id always say that talking about the future to people my age makes me depressed. bc it always makes me question who i am and if im doing the right thing and "look at them all getting jobs, while im just a loser" ? well, i didn't feel that way with my zurich friend. his announcement also gave me satisfaction and relief. i was like "huh, this is what it's all for, this is what im working towards".

it's funny cos like the job that he got is sort of similar to what im studying. obvs the domain of the company is different and the skillset needed is not exactly what i have. but with my qualifications i could do it at a different kind of company. and heck, that's basically the only thing i can do with my qualifications.... like THIS is what it's all for. THIS is how the outside world sees me.

and yeah, it all felt like finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. like everything's becoming a little clearer. and i can't describe to you guys how good having a degree feels. it's done, it's over. i will forever have it like a tattoo. every job i'll apply for, every motivational letter i'll write, every story i'll tell, every single time i'll have to present myself, it'll be there. im forever diplômée en mathématiques and it feels so fucking good.

#october

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svgoceandesigns1 · 1 day

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Funny Coffee I Cry A Lot SVG - But I Am So Productive SVG - It's An Art SVG PNG, Cricut File

Funny Coffee I Cry A Lot SVG, But I Am So Productive SVG, It's An Art SVG PNG EPS DXF PDF, Cricut File, Instant Download File, Cricut File Silhouette Art, Logo Design, Designs For Shirts. ♥ Welcome to SVG OCEAN DESIGNS Store! ♥ ► PLEASE NOTE: – Since this item is digital, no physical product will be sent to you. – Your files will be ready to download immediately after your purchase. Once payment has been completed, SVG Ocean Designs will send you an email letting you know your File is ready for Download. You may also check your Order/Purchase History on SVG Ocean Designs website and it should be available for download there as well. – Please make sure you have the right software required and knowledge to use this graphic before making your purchase. – Due to monitor differences and your printer settings, the actual colors of your printed product may vary slightly. – Due to the digital nature of this listing, there are “no refunds or exchanges”. – If you have a specific Design you would like made, just message me! I will be more than glad to create a Custom Oder for you. ► YOU RECEIVE: This listing includes a zip file with the following formats: – SVG File (check your software to confirm it is compatible with your machine): Includes wording in both white and black (SVG only). Other files are black wording. – PNG File: PNG High Resolution 300 dpi Clipart (transparent background – resize smaller and slightly larger without loss of quality). – DXF: high resolution, perfect for print and many more. – EPS: high resolution, perfect for print, Design and many more. ► USAGE: – Can be used with Cricut Design Space, Silhouette Cameo, Silhouette Studio, Adobe Illustrator, ...and any other software or machines that work with SVG/PNG files. Please make sure your machine and software are compatible before purchasing. – You can edit, resize and change colors in any vector or cutting software like Inkscape, Adobe illustrator, Cricut design space, etc. SVG cut files are perfect for all your DIY projects or handmade business Product. You can use them for T-shirts, scrapbooks, wall vinyls, stickers, invitations cards, web and more!!! Perfect for T-shirts, iron-ons, mugs, printables, card making, scrapbooking, etc. ►TERMS OF USE: – NO refunds on digital products. Please contact me if you experience any problems with the purchase. – Watermark and wood background won’t be shown in the downloaded files. – Please DO NOT resell, distribute, share, copy, or reproduce my designs. – Customer service and satisfaction is our top priority. If you have any questions before placing orders, please contact with us via email "[email protected]". – New products and latest trends =>> Click Here . Thank you so much for visiting our store! SVG OCEAN DESIGNS Read the full article

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lettertolife · 2 years

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1000 Thoughts, 100th Post and A cup of coffee🤍

Helloooo! welcome to my 100th Post!

I wanted something very meaningful to be my 100th post and previously I was going with talking about something that I read in Simu Liu's memoir and had too much to comment about from my personal experience and then I went nah. I created a Tumblr account with a motive to just speak whatever I feel in that moment and that exactly should be my 100th post as well, right?

So here I'm sipping on my coffee and typing away my emotions as a celebration to having written 100 posts on Tumblr.

First of, I wanna start with the fact that I'm a law graduate and as well as an enrolled advocate. Achieved something at the age of 25 :) so behind in life, Yay! (I'm being sarcastic with that yay, Just FYI) Although I wish to continue my higher studies abroad and I'm slightly lazing of there but I'll get there. I think I will - Please pray for me :)

Other than that I'm super invested into a Boys' Love show - Love In The Air telecasts every Thursday from 18th August 2022.and makes me feel super single :) and I MEAN IT. Apart from the single hood acknowledgement from a frictional show I have also been zoning in and out of various thoughts. I think I've too much free time at hand. anyway,

Most of the thoughts I guess suggest me that I should sit down and start working on a time machine and travel back in time to lash out onto all those people who left a scar on me. Have you ever had that hesitation in doing something because you fear the reaction or result could trigger an emotion so unhealthy that it will take away all your growth? If No great because having them is a curse. It literally stops you from doing everything and makes you regret life so pathetically. You wanna know how I know? Answer: I'm suffering from said hesitation and its repercussions. Yay Me!

A lot of these scars however comes from a place that should have been the healthiest place for a young mind- Yup it's school. It's the Teachers. How ironically unfortunate :) I'm fighting my tears back writing this because How could you do that to a young child? You were suppose to be the mature one amongst us then how did it end up like this? Why am I wiping my tears away and feeling petrified of those memories, which by the way, are suppose to be happy and ever lasting. Why am I left feeling like this? Sometimes I'm left questioning myself wether I deserved these traumas and maybe I was just a horrible human being to began with and these teachers had not done any wrong. Maybe.

Because other than that I cannot bring myself to understand why would they do this to a child, to me? I have such vivid memories of those moments even though decades have passed yet one normal moment out of nowhere those memories will be triggered and I'll be left wobbling, trying to grasp that moment. All of the growth and healing I did all these years shattered in seconds and all those insecurities and pain comes rushing back.

I missed school days a lot because my parents were laid back and also I was pretty sick child too. So I would be unprepared and made stupid mistakes and somehow that made me the receiver of disdain and annoyed look from my teachers. I still remember those eyes full of anger and irritation directed towards me. They did absolutely nothing to hide their expressions and words in front of the entire class of 35-40 students. Students who would then have the exact impression of me - annoying kid.

Once in 4th standard my English teacher didn't shy away from making fun of my walking - she called me out "You walk like a Duck" and proceeded to demonstrate that funny duck walk. You know what stayed after the class ended? That jokes on everyone's mouth and feet. Taunts kept coming in, physical jokes lasted long enough. I did complaint to the teacher and that English Teacher did tell the class to not make fun but the damage was done. You know how long that joke lasted? I was in 8th Standard and got shuffled from my section to a new one and one of my old classmate who I had no contact from 6th standard onwards - demonstrated that funny duck walk as my introduction to her friends.

In 5th standard I was giving my science unit test and my parents were waiting for me in the reception because I had a train to catch for outstation and I remember rushing my paper while sitting outside the class (those who were still writing the paper were asked to sit outside the class) while the rest were in the class. The BEST student was with the teacher helping her arranging and collecting the answer sheets. and when I submitted my sheets (Oh Goodness why do I remember all of this so vividly!) she flipped through my sheets, saw a mistake, snarked at it and then showed it to the BEST student and then both of them giggled at my mistake. Somewhere along the line my confident dipped too.

I was a slow child, it took me time to understand the concept- spellings were difficult for me. I kept mixing up letters and them laughing at me, making fun of me only distanced me from anything academic.

I could've done better academically had these teachers paid little more interest in the lacking behind student than the topper. You know how I know? Because in 8th standard my Social Studies teacher ended up making my fun for scoring low marks and it was so snarky and humiliating that in next week's test I scored 27/30. and the teenager me didn't shy away from giving her a look that day while she handed out my paper.

Then comes my P.T teacher from Boarding school, Dehra Dun. That woman found every petty reason to call me out in assembly, shame me and humiliate me. She went ahead with also trying to pair me with one of her friend's school's student. Yeah she went ahead and clicked a photo of mine to sent it to that guy. And when I complained my own very wonderful classmates turned at me blaming me for taking it too far by complaining not just talking it out with her. WHY THE FUCK WOULD I TALK IT OUT WITH HER. THAT WOMAN JUST SENT A PHOTO OF MINE TO SOMEONE.

Then comes the most horrible person in name of a teacher- Oh Christ. My heart dips at her image. She created such an environment for me that I started on missing on my meals (I was in boarding school) because she use to be there. I was missing on breakfast, literally inhaling my whatever portion of lunch I had in plate to just exit the mess before her entrance or before we made any eye contact. Dinner time- since I couldn't escape, I would have my head lowered and finish my meal without any appetite. She would humiliate me in front of the entire boarding school and then go ahead and tell that gossip to the entire school faculty. Resulting in my isolation and snatching away my peace of mind. She had me in such a toxic environment that I ended up going absolute silent for 7-10 days. Spoke bare minimum almost next nothing. and I happen to be a very talkative girl. She went around spreading rumours about me. Oh Dear Lord! Eventually the only relation I had with her (because I was suppose to have one) was of material. I was only talking to her because I had work from her. That woman in the authority of House Mistress (a position in Boarding school) called me names in public, got my boyfriend against me and had me isolated. Thanks to her my insecurities have risen a new level. I find myself questioning everything and being afraid of absolutely everything in this world.

And no I'm not saying that I was not a fault. I made mistakes- did things that were wrong. I was supposed to be corrected but at this cost? was this the only way? is this how it's suppose to be? Couldn't these teachers taken a better way out of my problems? With a child and a teenager was this the only way of teaching me about the world? Should I be traumatised to learn the way of the world?

Thousand of such thoughts keep lingering my mind all these times. keeping me up at night and shallow in life.

#trauma #letter to life

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missymaree · 2 years

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Life’s many Changes.

I haven't posted on here in awhile, and honestly I cant guarantee as I'm not a very avid blogger. When he left I was broken, sad and unhappy. I was lost and 145kgs of weight clawing my way out of depression and self hatred. Assuming I wasn't good enough and accepting one night stands from men who knew I couldn't get any better, had a feitish and a kink for plus sized women (not that there is anything wrong with that) but it wasn't healthy for me, it wasn't happiness for me, it wasn't going to be the rest of my life; that life wasn't good enough for me.

That was in December 2020, it is now 18 June 2022 and I am 89kgs of weight, remembering what it was that made me love myself and my interests. I am resetting boundaries and navigating day to day life to the best of my abilities? was it easy? Fuck no. Was it an improvement, Fuck yes and was it all worth it, I say yes but honestly the proof is in the pants from a size 22-24 to a size 12-14, a S or medium in most Australia stores. From the morbid obesity and short life expectancy to the healthy, active and sound lifestyle I have created. Yes the life change was definitely needed and was definitely worth it. How did I do it? I turned junk food into sometimes food, yes I still have bad days, where a Whopper with cheese heals my heart. but I earn it, I eat in a caloric deficit, and after awhile the cravings became for food that was good, it was chicken and veg sometimes, it was steamed fish with vegetable and rice other times then when I felt like a steak, and a side of vegetables it was that. I went from walking 500 steps in a day to averaging 8-10.000 steps in one day, I now crave the fitness atmospheric lifestyle, I changed to experiencing life, painting, gardening and walking new places and exploring this world that we have been so lucky to live in. (did I sound like a sales commercial just now?) fear not im not selling anything. Im just expressing myself as people do through boredom or a new to reach out and help people.

I went from stagnated life, to a moving and changing one, not all change has to be bad. I work, I work out. I explore life. I do something to make money, to benefit my mind, body and soul. I learnt knew skills, and grew as a person inside rather than grew more outward in physical size. Do I still have bad days, yeah. right now for instance I have the flu (not covid) and isn't it funny how I felt the need to write that in brackets now after the pandemic the last couple of years-ANYWAY- I have the flu, I am now 30 and single so I snuggle at home with my chihuahuas whom are looking at me like, sorry mum but we want to go for a walk on a cold and windy day and I wanna cry because there is nobody else here to take them, My chihuahua-son takes revenge by pissing on the bed spread, and I cry and start the washing machine. let me in on a little secret I am learning, it is 100% ok to NOT be ok, you can cry and feel the things you need to feel. you can debate wether or not its ok to have a second cup of yea or 4th cup of coffee in the day. when you have the flu ( As I do now) you can pause the gym for a day or two to let your body heal.

Do you get upset that nobody else is here to care for you, to meet your many needs; someone else could wash the pissy sheets... yes I do. but then thats just apart of life and I let those feelings go. IT is ok not to be OK, even after rebuilding yourself. It’s just one of life’s many changes.

#rebirth #fitness #lifestyle

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phantomenby · 2 years

Text

Shitlings Chapter Two

Part one

I would rather eat shit and die than get on a bike with your show pony looking ass

It was hot when you woke up, and something heavy had been placed on top of you in your sleep pinning you down, arching your neck you glanced up to see your thick weighted blanket and groaned as you pushed it off of you and onto the floor in your tired state. Before bed you had remembered only having a thin bed sheet to cover you, keeping the window open to cool you since the night was already too warm. Assuming it was gramps being funny and thinking you would be too cold you thought nothing more of it and curled back up in an attempt to return to your slumber. Nanook had no such plans and had already begun scuttering around the upper floor when she heard you rustling, barging through your door with a bang and launching herself onto the bed, all 60 pounds of fluff suffocating you.

"Shit-fuck, Nanook!" You fought to push her off of you, only succeeding in breathing in handfuls of fur, "SAM! Get your beast, Samantha-" you heard him running out of his room with Michael following behind, clearly woken by your screams and expecting the worst. They made no move to remove the dog who was still spinning in circles above you but as soon as she spotted her golden boy she bounded towards him, effectively pushing him to the ground as she licked his face.

"N-Nanook c'mon, not this-" he was cut off as a ball of slobber fell into his mouth, retching in disgust as Mike leaned against the doorway, laughing and red in the face as he took in the scene before him. He pulled her away and brought Sam to his feet, ignoring the glare he received from his brother as he began walking away.

"Next time you scream for help I ain't helping you! Murderer or not."

Mike shook his head at you, returning to his room, leaving you sprawled out on the bed, still recovering from the violent attack which had just occurred. Clearly you were now too awake to go back to sleep, adrenaline still pumping through you, glancing at the clock beside your bed you realised it wasn't as early as you had thought.

9:03

No wonder Nanook was so restless, the long trip from the day before combined with an entirely new environment was sure to make any creature buzz with excitement. Dragging yourself out from under your covers, not bothering to neaten them up as you stumbled downstairs, hunting for your favourite mug that mom had already packed away in one of the kitchen cupboards. Fortunately, gramps had his own coffee machine and had put it on a little over an hour ago, it was cooling down but still warm enough to drink from so you poured yourself a generous cupful. Sipping on the bitter drink you began to walk through the bottom floor, taking note of all the taxidermy animals that were covering every available surface, a large Moosehead was above the fireplace and its eyes bulged out awkwardly.

For some reason hunting was a common practice in the Emerson lineage, while it hadn't been passed down to you and your brothers there were still certain things you had been taught. It was no secret that your family were descended from something different to the common man, it hadn't taken to Michael as well as it had to you and Sam but anyone with decent eyesight could see your slightly elven features, pointy ears, and bright eyes that made you stand out in a mortal crowd. Your mother had hidden it from your father though, not wanting him to get involved as she sought out a simpler life away from gramps' mystical adventures, not like it had worked out in the end.

She taught you a lot, all about wards and healing magic, providing books that you and Sam had spent hours diving into and practicing with. Mike had joined you on occasion but preferred to focus on his own physical abilities rather than interacting with the metaphysical world that was hidden from mortal eyes. More importantly, you had all sensed something coming from the gang of bikers yesterday, even Star and the kid walking with her had an air of something dangerous to them. You didn't dwell on it but you made sure to mention it to Lucy on the way home last night, apparently gramps knew what you were talking about but wouldn't divulge much more than a simple warning to the three of you to avoid anyone who set off those kinds of warning bells in your head.

That wasn't particularly useful since half the people you met yesterday seemed like the kind to drag you into an alleyway and take everything you had.

Shrugging as you headed back upstairs, no longer wanting to be stuck in your worn pajamas as the sticky sweat beneath them clung to you. You took your time showering in the shared ensuite, scrubbing yourself down to the bone and lathering banana body wash across your skin, stopping once your skin was bright red and the smell had taken over your senses. As you went into your room you shivered and realised the window you had left ajar last night was now fully open, the lace curtain in front of it swaying with the morning breeze, closing it you pulled the thicker curtain over it to hide yourself better as you looked in your wardrobe for what you wanted to wear.

It was going to be hot all day so you grabbed some slightly loose grey basketball shorts you had stolen from Sam and a white shirt with 'NYU' plastered along the front in bold letters, lastly, a long-sleeved red and blue flannel to tie around your waist in case the winds changed while you were out exploring. Once you were dressed you slid on your socks and some sneakers before heading back to the kitchen with your empty mug, glancing out the window you could see Mike working on his bike, clearly intending to take it out tonight to impress Star. She was beautiful of course, though the way Mike had stalked her through the crowded boardwalk was a little creepy. You would have to stick with him tonight, knowing where Star went those for men would soon follow, and you didn't want to risk them hurting your brother.

You were going to explore early, during the day you had a feeling they wouldn't be there to bother you, and you had every intention of finding whatever gems you could in that thrift store the two golden-haired demons had cornered you in. You called out to your bother, informing him of your plans as you brought your bicycle to the front of the house, riding away swiftly into the dusty roads that led down to the beachfront.

By the time you arrived it was past eleven, Mikey had told you Sam had already gone off to visit the bookstore you found him in last night, something about weird friends being better than no friends. They had grilled Sam about vampires the entire time he was there, thrusting a small comic into his chest to read, supposedly holding all the information one would need to know about slaughtering the creatures of the night. You had both laughed at their insistence that eating garlic was like drinking acid to them, knowing that vampires historically had a fondness for it, garlic bread was invented by a Roman vampire too after he had cooked some into his bread.

Your mouth began to water and it was then you realised you hadn't grabbed any breakfast before you left, letting your senses lead you towards a small diner across from the market stalls you had seen last night and heading in to chow on some breakfast goods. A thick stack of fluffy pancakes was in front of you as you watched people walking by, still consisting of the mostly punk youth that you saw on the drive-in, along with a few people heading to and from work.

It was a welcome sight compared to the large swathes of people who had flocked to it last night, you hoped it was purely because of the musical act and that once it was finished you could visit and not feel like you were entering an ocean of sweaty bodies. Thinking on it you decided you would go again tonight, it was best not to let one bad evening ruin what had always been a safe place for you. Only this time you would stick to just enjoying the sights and keep the shopping to the day while normal folk were out and about, the creatures from yesterday evidently preferring to be more active in the evenings along with everyone else in Santa Carla.

Finishing your food and leaving a small tip you headed out, letting the sun's warmth embrace you, you could never get tired of this. If you were honest it was what made the move even more bearable, both Phoenix and Santa Carla were constantly warm, the only difference was no dad and more sea.

Spotting the familiar thrift stall from the night before you got to work, with fifty dollars still in your pocket you were going to be unstoppable.

It had been a good couple of hours and the sun was no longer as high in the sky as it used to be, and while shopping had been a rewarding experience, carrying it all the way home was not. You had struck gold at the thrift store by finding a bin full of shirts ranging from fifty cents to a dollar, even if they didn't fit well you could tailor them and wear them as pajama shirts. As you continued the trek you heard a familiar growl building up behind you, sighing in relief as your older brother pulled up and stopped beside you.

"Having fun there bud?" He smiled at you, eyes twinkling over his shades, scooting forward so he could let you climb on behind him.

"Haha Mikey, do us both a favour and get goin, I think if I don't cool down soon my sweat will make me melt like the wicked witch of the west!" At that he laughed and set off, speeding along and moving much more efficiently than you had. Within fifteen minutes you were home and your legs a lot less achy.

With a pat on his back you were walking inside, trudging up the steps to your room with the bag handles digging deep grooves into your wrists. The pain was worth it though as you fell face-first into your bed, you couldn't rest long as you were still an absolute mess but the cool sheets welcomed your toasty self with a sigh.

Glancing at the clock you saw it had just gone half-four and there would still be some time before dinner, nuzzling back into the sheets you closed your eyes, your body dragging you down into sweet sweet slumber.

Waking up was not as peaceful, Sam had decided if you didn't get up for dinner you would perish and had chosen to throw shoes at you until you got up. It took a good couple of throws before one got even close to you, you wondered why he never thought to use his abilities instead of his awful aim but you doubt he would do more than shrug at you.

Catching the boot before it slammed into your back you glowered at him, barely lifting your head as you kept his form in your sights, that smug face grinning sheepishly at you.

"Dinners in forty sleepyhead," he ducked the boot as you threw it back at him, laughing as he ran back downstairs to help your mother or bother her into making something fried and greasy to eat.

Pushing yourself up and stretching like a cat you gave yourself a quick sniff, wincing as you remembered you hadn't bothered to shower once you were home. Heading into the bathroom and grabbing a towel you decided to take a lot less time than earlier, still scrubbing your skin but not until your skin looked like it had been raked over, and grabbing your mom's rose and berry body wash instead.

Drying off and rubbing some lotion into your skin, realising just how scratchy it had gotten after neglecting yourself throughout the move. Once you were satisfied you headed over to your closet sans towel and threw it open, you knew it would be cooler outside tonight and while you weren't human you could still get sick. Choosing your mom jeans again along with a dark blue turtle neck that would cover you up nicely, deciding to pair them up with some rugged doc martins and thick woolen socks so you wouldn't be limping by the end of the night.

Heading to the kitchen you smelt your mom's meatloaf and mac and cheese, she was prattling on to Sam about how he would eat what she made or he can learn to cook himself, unsurprisingly he was debating it and you dreaded to think of what dreadful concoctions he would make. Sitting down and tucking in you hummed in delight, there was nothing better to you than a freshly cooked meal by Lucy, the only thing that would improve it would be if she used some of the weed gramps was growing outback.

As the sun went down behind you your mind wandered, dreading to think of the night being that would be out soon.

The boardwalk as usual was full of life, a Saturday night in summer never disappointed. But the boys had something different on their minds.

You.

They hadn't stopped obsessing over you since they had felt your presence in town, something was different about you and the energy you held. Craving nothing more than to be around you and have you in their arms. But their usual methods of seduction failed as you ignored their charming smiles, soft touches, and bared chests. You were a challenge they would gladly accept.

Expecting to see you again tonight they sped down to the boardwalk, parking in the usual spot and sending Laddie and Star off to entertain themselves for the evening. Star had already attached herself to Michael, luring him in with the sway of her hips and tug of her hair as she let him chase her back to them the other night. He would be the means to an end they needed to get closer to you, especially since they had already spotted him parking his scrawn red bike a little further down from them by the beach.

You weren't with him though and they frowned when they noticed, they could still feel you though. Hiding somewhere in the crowds. Paul was itching to go and find you, along with Marko whose owlish eyes gazed on ahead from his position at the top of the railing.

"Spotted," they all turned to look at his words, trying to follow wherever his gaze had found you. And there you were, wearing a cosy turtleneck and the same loose-fitting pants as yesterday. Gazing around at all the rides, with their bright lights reflecting in your eyes.

Perfection.

Marko had already hopped down and began heading towards the crowds that blocked the path to you, people parting naturally as Paul and Dwayne followed him slowly like a panther stalking its prey. David stalked behind with his hands in his coat pockets, watching as you continued on exploring, unaware of the danger you were in.

It would be easiest to corner you, slowly leading you to a quiet part of the boardwalk you wouldn't be familiar with, your poor helpless self would be forced to rely on them to find the way back to the safety of your brothers. Soon enough you had turned to glance behind you and had immediately spotted Dwayne's tall form peeking through the crowds, to your left was Paul and your right Marko, they could hear your heart rate pick up as you turned into a passageway through the shops.

Marko was quick to tail you, smiling like the devil as his lithe form moved between hidden spaces you weren't aware of, relishing in the smell of your fear as you realised how close he was getting. Paul had taken it upon himself to climb above the stalls and was following along above you, grinning down at you like a lion as he lazily smoked a blunt. Being a vampire allowed him to move quickly without much thought and quiet enough so you wouldn't notice him, not that he would have minded seeing your scared face looking up at him like a kitten fallen into the arms of a beast.

David and Dwayne were using the shadows to move, letting Marko take the lead in nudging you in the right direction, one of them occasionally jumping out and laughing at you when you tried to get back to the safety of the boardwalk crowds. Where there would be too many witnesses for them to hurt you.

It had been going fine.

Had being the operative word

Michael had gone shopping with you, for some reason he was obsessed with the idea of getting a leather jacket and some cool jewelry, but you hadn't protested since it would allow you to spend some time with him and explore without being harassed. So you had hoped.

It wasn't long before you lost him in the crowds as he walked towards a piercing booth where a girl was watching her friend get her first ear piercing, clearly, neither were coping well with it as they held hands in anxious anticipation. You didn't miss Star approaching him either, whispering something into his ear that made his head snap back, he immediately began following her like a lost puppy eager to please his new owner, disappearing as she lead him back to the opposite end of the boardwalk and away from you. Despite letting it happen you couldn't ignore the feeling in your chest telling you something was afoot, like a deeper plan was being played out.

I mean sure Michael was cute, blessed with your mother's gorgeous pixie genes, but he was still a massive virgin and always too scared to approach pretty girls who swished their skirts at him. Suddenly, as though a spell had been placed upon him he had fallen within a day of being in your new home. It felt wrong.

Your attention was soon taken from you as a group of rowdy surfers pushed past you, carrying you along with them as you tried to escape from your position in the middle of the group, stumbling towards the stalls you had been followed through the other day. Huffing as you finally grounded yourself, holding onto the side of one of the shops as you rubbed the dirt from their clothing off of you. Glancing around you realised you were far from where you wanted to be, trying to spot the light of Max's video store where mom worked as you thought about hiding there or asking to drive her car back home.

Fuck

Ahead of you was an even bigger obstacle, one of the boys from the other night, the tall brooding brunette who had rubbed against you like a cat in heat. He met your eyes with a dark smirk, making slow strides towards you. Bristling with anger you went to head further down the boardwalk, hoping you would be able to find the comic book store Sam had gone to so you wouldn't be left alone with him.

"Ah!" You let out a yelp as you turned, coming face to face with the cherubic blonde, he had bent forward so he could look closely at your face. Goodness knows how long he had been waiting for you to turn. Creep.

"Where ya goin' kitten," he began dragging his hands down your arms but you pulled away from him and pushed him back, scoffing in disgust.

"Away from you, take the hint weirdo."

His eyes gleamed, shining with an unknown emotion, and at that point, you realised you were nothing more than prey. Backing away slowly he followed, soft short steps as he forced you deeper into the pathway behind you, cornering you like a wolf would with a bunny in a forest.

"Oh I don't think you want to do that hun, c'mon me and my boys are plenty fun."

"For some reason I doubt that."

"Ahh but you don't know do you," you tried to go round the corner to your left but were stopped by the platinum blonde, he blew smoke in your face and laughed mockingly, reaching out for you.

"Marko, Marko, Marko. Don't scare them now, I'm sure they know better than to refuse our company."

Your heart was going a mile a minute and you knew you would have to be smart about your escape, the area you were in was not familiar to you and you were sure the four of them knew it like the back of their hands. You could feel more than the two you could see though, their energy buzzing around you, it was dangerous and dark and you wanted nothing to do with it. Glancing behind you and further into the dark of the empty alleyways behind the stalls you saw it was empty and knew it was your only chance. With one last look at them, you turned and sprinted, narrowly missing the hands of the brunette as he reached out to grab you from the shadows.

Laughter echoed all around you but they made no move to run, almost as though their strides were carrying them fast enough, you wouldn't check behind to see though lest you trip and lose your momentum.

Looking up you saw a shadow covering the moon, there he was, the blonde who had wrapped himself around you last night. His face looked almost inhuman in the moonlight, his eyes glowing...

Shit

You knew now why you felt how you did, why when they were near the air became dark and cold. They were predators. Inhuman ones at that.

Fucking vampires.

Knowing now what you would have to do you ran towards a pathway which would cover you from above, it was dark, almost pitch black and you summoned all the energy you could as you recited the spell in your mind. Feeling your body become surrounded in a soft glow, your skin tingling with a pricking sensation.

Poof!

Slowly you opened your eyes, your form still tense as you looked around, you had appeared beside the boardwalk only at the start of it. Next to you were some stairs leading back up to the walkway and looking down you realised you were tucked into a corner of the beach where no one could see you. Above you heard the familiar voice of your brother, Michael, who was still walking with Star.

Taking a moment to compose yourself you headed towards them, intending to get him onto his bike and home with you, far away.

You had vanished. It had been going perfectly and you had just vanished. Nothing left of you besides your scent.

Marko, David, and Dwayne were already round the corner to capture you, knowing this was a dead end with no escape. Paul began to climb down behind them when your heart stopped beating. Or so they had thought, expecting to find a corpse, but instead finding empty air.

They were stunned, if someone came up and slapped them in the face they might have thought they were touching a statue with how still they were standing. It was really quite comical. David was the first to snap back and his movements brought the rest of them with him, Paul was still slightly convinced his dealer had given him something other than pot at that moment.

"David," it was Dwayne who spoke first, looking at his leader who was biting down on a cigarette. His question was unspoken but they were all thinking it.

Where had you gone, it wasn't possible for you to slip past them, not only was it four against one but they were able to hear every movement you made. The air smelt funny too like someone had burnt rubber. It put them on edge not being able to sense you anymore, even as Marko and Paul checked every crevice and lifted the cloths covering the tables in the empty stalls to see if you had hidden yourself there.

Either way, it didn't explain how your heartbeat had just stopped. It wasn't possible for a human to do that and you definitely weren't a vampire. Not yet.

"Seek them out, if we can still feel them they're not far from us. I'm sure there's a door they must have found, Marko look harder, Paul use your nose."

They worked like a pack of bloodhounds, the young blondes utilising their primal skills to search for you while David and Dwayne poked around for your mind, still feeling your emotions running wild.

"Stop." Three golden eyes looked up at him, David's smile growing as he looked back in the direction of the open walkway, "they're still here., somewhere nearby, I can feel them through Star"

"Where?" Marko rose up from where he had crouched down near the floor, feeling around for any loose boards.

"Somewhere further back I think, but they're still moving, lets go."

As you watched Star you wondered why she too held that same energy, it was merged with something vibrant but it was as though there was a black hole in the centre, absorbing the life from her. She wasn't a vampire though, her heart still beating softly in her chest and cheeks flushed as Michael tried to flirt his way into getting her to grab dinner with him.

Intervening you ran up behind them, shouting his name and pulling him out of his enamored state. He looked behind at you in concern, noting how you were flushed and shaking, your chest beginning to constrict as your running caught up with you.

"What's up?" You didn't answer, letting yourself lean against him as he wrapped you into a hug, Star watching on concerned. She had thought by now the boys would have taken you away somewhere, small thoughts of theirs pushing into her mind as they chased you. They grew again as they realised you were with her, telling Star to keep you occupied.

"I wanna go home Mikey," your breathing had evened out and you squeezed your eyes shut as an unwelcome feeling grew in your chest. They were coming for you, having figured out where you had disappeared to.

Star was staring into space beside you, eyes focused on you and Michael.

"Why what happened? Did someone hurt you? You're shaking bug."

"I-I'm fine I just need to get home, please." He began leading you both away, forgetting about Star as you walked to where his bike was sat.

"Michael"

Shit

For a moment you had forgotten she was still there, now looking at you both expectantly.

"You promised me dinner Mikey," her voice was like honey and you felt a pull towards her, luring you in like a fish on a hook, your bother sighed beside you biting his lip.

"Gee, I'm sorry Star I forgot, bug d'you think we could stay just a little longer? You can stick with us the whole time I promise."

Looking up at him you begged with your eyes but he wouldn't budge, you had to take a better approach. Nudging his mind you decided it would be better to talk this way where Star couldn't hear you.

They're not human Michael

What

Not. Human.

He glanced back at Star, eyes widening as he began to feel it too. That gnawing feeling in his chest as warning bells ringing in his mind.

Wheres Sam

With humans he'll be safe, we can tell mom

Nodding he looked to Star again, "I'm sorry I'll have to take a raincheck on that," her eyes going glossy under his hardened gaze, mouth moving but not forming words.

You continued on, reaching his bike and bracing your hands against his shoulders to climb behind him, stopping as you heard the rumble of four other bikes surrounding you. Wincing in anticipation of a possible fight.

There they were, all four of them and the small boy, smug grins on each of their faces as they trapped Mike's bike with their own much larger machines. You were trapped and it didn't look like anyone was coming to your rescue any time soon.

"Where you goin' love," David relished in the sight of your tense form, admiring your flushed face, growling slightly as Michael pulled you towards him.

"Let's go bug."

"Nuh-uh uh, you promised our friend dinner Mikey, or did you forget?"

Michael glared at David as Paul laughed at him, irritation burning behind his eyes.

"I already told her I could do it another night, I'm sure she understands."

Star took this as her cue to put on a sad face, looking down to shy away from your brother, playing with her dress nervously, "you did promise Michael."

Her voice was sinful, and she knew the power batting her wide chocolate orbs had on him as he gulped.

"Why don't you come with us hm? Star on your bike and your 'bug' on mine," your head snapped up angrily, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I would rather eat shit and die than get on a bike with your show pony-looking ass," it was rather satisfying watching their faces fall.

Why was Star's lure working on your brother but none of theirs would work on you? Speaking of Star, she was still making doe eyes at Mike and he was definitely falling for it, his resolve failing as he looked to her. He glanced back at you.

Please

"W-what if Star rides with you?"

"So you will come with us," that smug grin was back and you pinched Mike which he ignored, nodding at David instead.

"Fine, Star come," she wasted no time climbing on behind him, letting his arm lift her up, "you know where Hudson's Bluff is, overlooking the point?"

Mike nodded, steadying himself as you climbed on, wrapping your arms tight around his waist, "I can't beat your bike."

"You don't have to beat me, Michael, you just have to try and keep up."

I'll kill you for this Mikey

I know

#tlb #the lost boys #lost boys x oc #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys fic #marko the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #dwayne tlb

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aurumacadicus · 2 years

Text

@winterironmonth prompt -- SFW Sunday: Word, Dialogue

Word: Confession

Dialogue: “Shit… I’m in love with [pronounce choice].”

I’d like to apologize in advance because this is so chaotic compared to the beauty I posted yesterday. 😔 On the other hand, working in a school is chaotic, and it’s worse when the kids are smart. Don’t forget to blacklist ‘long post’!

Tony was explaining the concept of electromagnetism, red marker bright against his whiteboard, when he realized the truth. “Shit. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with Bucky Barnes.”

Then he remembered where he was and he spun around to face the class, mortified. He didn’t make a sound. On the other hand, neither did the class, who were staring at him in what looked like astonishment. He wondered if he could make a break for the door and turn in his resignation before word got out.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter finally said, voice weak. “Are you telling us that you didn’t know?”

“What do you mean am I telling you? You knew?!” Tony barked, somehow even more mortified than before. He hadn’t even thought that was possible.

“Mr. Stark, you’re like, embarrassingly obvious,” M.J. drawled, finally turning her attention back to her desk.

Tony was dismayed to realize she was pulling out her sketchbook where she practiced drawing people in crisis. Was he in crisis? Was he going into her sketchbook? He should probably resign with an email and go live in the forest in shame. Could he survive in a forest? Oh God. He was in crisis.

“You signed up to participate in the student verses teacher basketball game just so you could be on the team with him, Mr. Stark,” Ned told him, not unkindly.

“I—I could be into sports,” Tony began to sputter.

“Everyone knows you’re not into sports, Mr. Stark,” Peter said.

Tony squinted at him, trying to decide if the gentleness of his tone annoyed him. Mostly it just made the prospect of fucking off to a forest and dying more palatable. He turned back to the board and mechanically wrote the rest of the equation he’d been writing. Stared at it. Turned back to the class. “If any of you tell Barnes, you will be directly responsible for my death.”

“I don’t think anyone’s died of humiliation yet, Mr. Stark,” Flash said sarcastically.

“I’ll walk straight out into traffic,” Tony corrected, returning his attention to the board. He drew a stick figure and a square car. “Let’s get back to physics. How fast does a car need to go to kill me instantly when it hits me?”

Kamala raised her hand. “Mr. Stark? This is making me really uncomfortable.”

Tony paused, then added a necktie to the stick figure before turning to face the class again. “Okay. How fast does a car need to go to kill Elon Musk instantly when it hits him?” He watched several more hands fly up and hoped that none of this got back to their parents.

.-.

Miraculously, it didn’t get back to Barnes. Tony figured that the being hit by a car thing had made all the kids keep their mouths shut.

“Am I too dramatic?” Tony asked himself as he printed out flyers for the robotics club.

Steve looked over from the coffee machine with a raised eyebrow. “You? Too dramatic? Absolutely.”

“Hey,” Tony began, offended.

“You said you were going to tar and feather me for shit-talking the Mets,” Steve deadpanned. “And then you burst into my classroom of freshmen, threw paint on me, then dumped a bag of feathers on me.”

“I feel like, since I was reprimanded by Fury, I should get a pass for that,” Tony muttered, mostly to himself but partly to Steve.

Steve shrugged. “I mean, I thought it was funny. The Mets lost that week.”

“The disrespect I get in this fucking building,” Tony huffed, tapping the sheaf of papers to shuffle them together.

Steve ignored him. He normally did when Tony was complaining. “Anyway, have you noticed the decathlon team being super secretive lately?”

“I rarely notice anything about teenagers,” Tony said.

“God, I wish that was me,” Steve muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he sighed, letting his hand drop to the counter. “They’ll be whispering amongst themselves, and whenever I ask what it’s about, they pretend like it was about school. I know it wasn’t about school. They’re shifty,” he added when Tony raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. “Like I am whenever Natasha tries to set me up on dates.”

“Ah,” Tony said with understanding. Then he remembered his ill-timed Moment of Clarity, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. “Steve. Steve do you ever hear what they’re saying. Steve this is important.”

Steve frowned at him, concerned. “…I guess I hear them mention Bucky. Surely they’re not talking about our fifteenth president, James Buchanan, in terms of his romantic status. Although they might,” he added to himself, ignorant of the way Tony was starting to hyperventilate. “Kids are weird. Especially smart ones.”

Tony managed to slow his breathing to take a deep breath. Then he threw his head back and let out a deep, primal pterodactyl screech.

Steve stared at him, then threw his hands up in exasperation. “Oh my God. And you seriously wondered if you were too dramatic. Cut that out,” he added sharply when Tony didn’t stop on his own. He looked up as Clint came into the staff room. “Clint—”

“Nope,” Clint said, turning on his heel and leaving.

Steve eventually got Tony to calm down, mostly by shaking him and threatening to get Fury and then, when that failed, threatening to get Pepper, which made Tony clam up and skitter out of the room in terror. Steve wanted to kick himself over it for days, because he didn’t have time to pry the reason for his screams before he escaped like a fucking eel. It would have saved him a lot of time and misery.

.-.

Tony got stuck putting up the flyers. It was technically Peter’s duty, but he was studying for the upcoming decathlon meet, and Tony had had work he wanted to avoid, so there he stood, putting up flyers and avoiding some grading.

“Hey, Tony,” Bucky said, coming up beside him.

Tony stapled a flyer to his thumb. He stared at the blood welling up around the staple and tried to remember the last time he’d had a Tetanus shot. Could he pretend that he had not just stapled a flyer to himself? He peeked up at Bucky. Bucky looked reasonably horrified, so he figured playing it off was out. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to ignore this happened.”

“No,” Bucky said, like it was punched out of him.

Tony sighed, frowning at his thumb. He glanced at Bucky. Looked back down at his finger. Considered.

“Oh God please don’t do what I think you’re about to do,” Bucky begged.

Tony ignored him, grabbed the piece of paper, and yanked. “Ah, that was a mistake,” he said sadly when the paper pulled away, but the staple stayed in his finger.

“Stop,” Bucky cut in before he could pick at it. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

Tony did not swoon when Bucky grabbed his arm to tow him to the office, but mostly because he was staring at the staple in his thumb. “Anyway, what did you want?”

“Well, I was going to confess I knew you were in love with me for months and was just waiting for you to make a move, since I overheard the students trying to figure out if I was single for you,” Bucky explained, grimacing a little. “Then I overheard the part about you walking into traffic, and I decided waiting wasn’t a chance I wanted to take.”

Tony tried to surreptitiously escape his grip so he could walk out of the school and then simply keep walking until he could disappear straight into the ocean. Bucky tightened his grip and yanked him over to the office instead.

“You’re just saying what I want to hear,” Tony said.

“No I’m not,” Bucky told him firmly. “And you’re an idiot. I’ve known ever since you joined the first staff versus student basketball game three years ago. You don’t even like sports.”

“I like sports!” Tony exclaimed, offended.

Bucky turned to give him a scowl. “Yeah, watching them, maybe. Could even enjoy a little one-on-one. But playing with two full teams? You look like a fucking chihuahua trying not to get stepped on, Tony.”

“It’s not my fault that Steve and Thor are both giants and I’m small,” Tony said indignantly.

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again with a sigh, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing I think you’re cute, I guess. Otherwise I might be put off.”

“I have a staple in my thumb,” Tony reminded him, waving his thumb in his face for good measure, as if he might have forgotten the reason he was frogmarching him to the nurse’s office.

Bucky turned to give him his best bitch face, usually reserved for Steve when he got up to shenanigans or students when they were purposely trying his patience to see if he’d throw a chair like rumors said. “Yeah, and I thought maybe I’d kiss it better after we got the staple out and we got it bandaged up. Maybe take you out for ice-cream to make you feel better.”

“Are you telling me this staple got me a date?” Tony asked indignantly as Bucky dug around in a drawer for tweezers.

“Well, I was going to ask you out regardless, I just don’t think you’ll want to dig your wounded finger into a bucket of salty popcorn or a basket of fries,” Bucky told him, then grabbed his hand and yanked it close. “Hold still.”

“You don’t know,” Tony muttered, petulant, as Bucky carefully prodded at the staple to figure out the best way to pull it out. “Maybe I would. Maybe I’m kinky and like that kind of thing. Maybe I’m a masochist!”

Bucky carefully grasped the staple with the tweezers and gave Tony a very unimpressed frown. “Are you turning down ice-cream?”

“No, I like mocha almond fudge,” Tony began, scowling at him.

“Then we’ll go get ice-cream, and if you really need that kinky itch scratched, I’ll take you home and spank you,” Bucky replied.

Tony opened his mouth, even though he had no idea what he would have said. Luckily(?), Bucky yanked the staple out at that moment, so all that came out was a yelp.

.-.

“And on to the next order of business,” Coulson said, looking through his papers. “Ms. Romanoff, who won the pot?”

Natasha poked at her phone, going over the spread sheet. “It looks like a tie between Bruce and Pepper.”

“What,” Bucky said.

“Bruce got the time slot,” Natasha continued, ignoring him. “And Pepper’s position of ‘Tony will embarrass himself in front of students, cause physical injury to himself, and that will kick Bucky’s ass into gear to ask him out’ as how they’d get together was closest. Although Steve was close with ‘eventually Bucky will realize Tony’s an idiot.’”

“I concede to Pepper’s scarily accurate prediction,” Steve said, and Pepper smiled smugly.

“What,” Bucky repeated, scowling.

Bruce turned to Tony. “Shall I put your cut into the robotics club fund?”

“Please,” Tony said agreeably.

Bucky swiveled around to stare at him, aghast. His mouth worked wordlessly before he finally managed to burst out, “Tony, what the fuck?!”

Tony blinked at him placidly. “I’m eccentric but predictable. I am a safe bet. That means I get ten percent off the top.”

“It’s true,” Clint added when Bucky didn’t immediately have a response. “You were the wild card here, not Tony. None of us knew when you would get your head out of your ass. Well, except Steve,” he muttered, and Steve perked up like the golden retriever he was. “He thought it would take longer, though.”

“I miscalculated on how soon his electromagnetism unit was coming up in his curriculum,” Steve grumbled.

“Hey am I the only one who thinks this is all FUCKING WEIRD,” Bucky shouted.

Coulson frowned at him. “No need to yell, Barnes.”

“This is part of the experience of working here,” Thor told him kindly. “It is the nature of a small school.”

“I don’t like this,” Bucky said.

“Would it make you feel better if I gave you a cut, too,” Pepper deadpanned.

Bucky stared at her for a moment, then muttered, “Maybe.”

“Twenty-six dollars to Barnes, Phil,” Pepper said, looking at him.

“YOU GUYS BET TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS ON WHEN WE WERE GONNA DATE?!” Bucky bellowed, standing.

Clint raised an eyebrow at him. “No, that’s just half. Bruce and Pepper have to split it, remember?”

“You can use your cut to pay for our next date,” Tony added helpfully.

Bucky fell back into his seat with a groan, putting his face in his hands. “God.”

Steve patted him on the back perhaps a little harder than necessary. “You’ll get used to it, bud.”

“Get away from me. You didn’t even get the pot,” Bucky hissed, pushing him away.

“I was working on misinformation, I said!” Steve argued. “I was looking at his schedule from last year!”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Bucky said, and then they lunged at each other.

Tony watched them wrestle on the floor, then turned back to Coulson. “What’s next on the list? I have to prep for our experiment today.”

Coulson looked back at his clipboard. “Parent-teacher conferences are next month.”

Everyone at the table groaned, loudly, even Steve and Bucky, and they were still wrestling under the table.

#aurumacadicus writes #winterironmonth #winteriron #long post

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years

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➳the girl in the lilac dress ♠ ♡

in which y/n meets fred's ex-girlfriend, days after fred confessed his love for her. there's still some confusion on the status of their relationship. angst -> fluff. narrated by you, y/n l/n.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±5.4k

tw: angst (not too bad though), mean words, blood, mentions of auror missions, kidnapping, needles, st mungo's

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. hermione, lee and alicia

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

the girl in the lilac dress

i was in a good mood. on the way to work to receive my mission, i was humming a song that had just come out. it was catchy and worth the wait.

out of the corner of my eye, a lilac colour appeared suddenly. strange, i thought. it approached me, in the form of a beautiful woman. she had the lightest grey eyes and the smoothest milky-white skin, and the shiniest locks of dark brown hair. she walked in a flowy lilac gown, her slim model-like body walking in a model-like fashion.

i was pretty sure she wasn't headed towards me, but when her luxurious voice said "good morning" in the calmest tone possible to me, i looked at her confusedly.

"hi!" i replied brightly, smiling.

she smiled sinisterly, "my name is pretoria aphrodite, i'm fred's ex-girlfriend."

he hadn't ever mentioned an ex, but i knew he had dated quite a few people. she made me seem like a glass of water next to a glass of red wine, naive and ugly. i was those two things anyway.

"oh! i'm y/n l/n! nice to meet you, you do seem like a daughter of aphrodite," i said politely.

"darling, all women are daughters of aphrodite. i understand fred's interested in you?"

she observed me and i laughed.

"i don't think that's quite the word. he's my best friend."

"friends with benefits?"

"oh gosh no! i don't really know where we stand, honestly."

"bitter about it?"

i thought for a second, "nah, i couldn't be. love's a hard thing."

"it is, indeed, and you work for the ministry?"

i nodded, "head of the auror office. what about you?"

"i model for witch weekly."

i gasped, "you're the p. aphrodite? i should've known!"

"big fan?" she looked amusedly at me.

"my friends are, so naturally i am."

"you don't seem the type fred usually goes for."

"i wouldn't say he's even going for me," i said cautiously.

"you are much too cutesie for his type."

i glanced up at her. she was smiling kindly.

"pfft, but better cutesie than nothing, amirite?" i asked friendlily, "well it's been nice to talk with you, but i gotta hurry!"

"no worries, i'll come with you, i have some business at the ministry too. have you seen his past exes?"

"uhh, not really?"

"well they're all models for one magazine or another."

"oh, okay. and that's important because...?" i asked her carefully.

"i just thought you should know."

i laughed, "i'm not model material, am i? i don't mind at all."

she looks taken aback. "i would say, with longer hair," she plucked a hair out of my poor mess of locks, "and a shorter upper body, with perhaps lip fillers, you'd look model-like."

her tone was analysing and not at all attacking.

"only three things??" i asked, shocked.

"you are rather... pretty already," she mused, "not model-like, but cute."

we had reached the ministry.

"thanks, see you later!" she waved and disappeared.

all that was left was a buzzing fly which soon flew away.

i immediately dialled in my auror code in the red telephone box and was sent into hermione granger's office.

"'mione! how good to see you!" i hugged her.

"hello y/n!"

in the ministry and the auror department, the head of the auror office was probably more important than the minister for magic. i didn't know why. she had brought me a cup of hot chocolate.

"thanks, 'mione, you didn't need to. what's the mission today?"

"two babies are being held hostage in a coded location by a person who calls themselves the light lord. dark lord, light lord, y'know?" she handed me a coded piece of parchment.

i thoughtfully pondered, "the light lord. who do you need?"

"i was hoping you go on this mission, then you could give me some news on this light lord person."

"that's doable. we'll need to bring in hepole and a ministry official to negotiate passports and such. and a strong auror team."

"right on it. i'll get wally becker and charlotte-ann becker. they're a force to be reckoned with on the borders."

"how much experience?"

"they're twins, been doing this for about fifty years now."

"perfect. and hepole?"

"on the way."

"thanks, minister," i winked at her, getting out my telephone and dialling the disguise unit.

"hello, poplinn speaking."

"pop, we need a few disguises. light lord."

"miss l/n! o-of course!"

"and pop?"

"y-yeah?"

"call me y/n."

i hung up, dialling harry's office.

"harry, call draco and be in my office in ten minutes. i don't care what business he's doing with scorpius, we've got babysitters here. light lord, perhaps a second of voldemort."

"of course."

i picked up the ringing phone that was in the corner of hermione's office.

"y/n, me and scorpy are having a zoo day, we're at the muggle zoo you suggested."

"sorry dray, but it's important."

"there's no one else?"

"there are others, but we need your expertise."

there was a pause, "i won't need to show my dark mark?"

"it's fading anyway. no."

"i'll be paid?"

"in hundreds."

"how old are the children?"

"2 and 4," hermione said.

the silence told me he was sold.

"i'll be there."

i picked up the big microphone and said, "auror unit 156 to the brief room. no need to bring anything. see you there!"

"good luck," hermione grimly said, "be safe, head."

"mhm and cup o' coffee tomorrow? if i survive, that is," i grinned.

"'course."

i smiled, "c'ya!"

she was shaking her head.

"oi, no disappointment, 'mione! i was the one who got the ministry out of paperwork!"

"burning paper doesn't count, y/n."

"it wasn't burning paper, hermione granger, it was arson."

"no, it was the saddest form of arson i've ever seen."

"hey! that's rude."

"just go on your mission already."

i laughed, "on it, minister. kalle?"

kalle looked at me, "yes?"

"tell miss minister to take a break and play a game or something, will you?"

she smiled, "okay."

"give my thanks to your mother too, loved the cookies!"

"alright, good luck, head!"

"thanks, bye!"

i apparated to the brief room, where everyone was strapped into special camouflage clothes.

i handed hepole the parchment and immediately began briefing the unit, harry and draco, on the mission.

"please be safe out there. if you're injured, apparate or travel back here, okay?"

i looked at hepole.

he cleared his throat, "they're in albania. the forest there."

"okay. harry and draco will provide attacking forces," the two nodded.

"i want lopex, quentin blake, quentin grill and hilly to break into any establishment," i say to the team, "and eron, hawks, melv, argonas to hold the offender hostage. johnathan, team healer as always. i'll take the children. hepole, you come and accompany us till the forest, then you have my permission to stay back, and beckers, stay invisible with the cloak, write a report for the minister when you come back, understand? have faith, team! i believe in you. we travel by apparition with the machine in three minutes. call your family, chat, have a snack, drink some water, and relax."

i picked up my telephone and dialled my parents.

"hi mum, dad, i'm going on a mission!"

"alright, be safe sweetie," my mum called.

"yeah, don't die kiddo," my dad added.

"right right, i love you, bye!"

the mission was successful. we rescued the children and sent the kidnapper to trial for azkaban. i escaped with a gash on my forearm, but quickly fixed it up with a spell. it ended late in the evening, so the team healer had gone home. the wound kept opening again, but i wasn't sure if it needed stitches.

putting everything away and making sure the aurors were okay, i headed back to the apartment i shared with fred.

i felt emotionally and physically drained, ready to enjoy a good shower and a good late dinner.

when i fiddled with the key to the door and opened it, my heart absolutely stopped.

pretoria aphrodite was kissing fred passionately. i felt my heart fall ten thousand flights of stairs in disappointment. of course. i was all a rebound who was pathetically in love with him.

when they stopped and saw me, pretoria smirked and fred stood up, astounded.

"uhh, continue? sorry," i apologised awkwardly.

"wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like-" he said.

"i don't mind, be safe," i smiled, too tired and too weak to do anything, closing the door and feeling tears well up in my eyes as i took my bag and myself somewhere. anywhere away from this all. my wound burned. i cursed under my breath as i made my way to st mungo's.

"y/n, you should have come here earlier!" yvonne, my friend, says, as she slowly injects a needle into me, "it's infected! and it needs stitches."

i laughed, "everything needs stitches. this is why i didn't become a healer, yvonne."

she shook her head in dismay.

"lol."

i watched the needle go in.

then she stitched the bloody mess of a wound up, cleaning it gently.

"now i can't stay, y/n," i pouted, "no, don't give me that face, i have other patients."

i nodded, "thanks yvonne."

"no problems. take care. you're too reckless."

"am not!"

she laughed. "that's funny."

after the trip to st mungo's which was pretty short, i wondered what to do. my mind kept floating to the scene i had just witnessed.

i was just the stupid, stupid, girl he used as a rebound. he didn't even use me as a real rebound, just someone who was simply infatuated with him to help him forget his unforgettable ex.

looking at a shop window, i caught a glimpse of myself. i hated being insecure but it happened.

i looked ugly. eyes too small, nose too big, lips not full enough. my thighs touched and i didn't have abs. i had a long gash running down my forearm, surrounded by other cuts. my hair was messy and disgusting. compared to the angel on earth pretoria was, i was nothing. small and plain was nothing when luxurious and beautiful was present.

and it hurt. my heart hurt. my head hurt.

i shook my head gently of my thoughts, chuckling bitterly.

fred weasley was completely and utterly out of my league.

whatevs, i thought. hurting was fine.

deciding to get over him once and for all, i bought some groceries and apparated to the doorstep of lee and alicia's glamorous cottage.

i knocked twice on the door. "hellooo!" i called out.

"baby, can you get that?" lee asked alicia.

alicia opened the door, smiling as she saw me.

"hey ali!"

"hi! come in!"

at first glance i could tell she knew something wrong.

"can i sleep here tonight? and take a shower? and eat some of your food please guys? and maybe steal a shirt i left here for safekeep? and maybe use your telephone? i'm really sorry for troubling you, so i got you guys snacks."

i was the second cousin by marriage of lee. it was good overall, but he was super naughty.

"snacks?"

"your favourites."

"then i guess you can," he said cheekily and i laughed.

"alicia, i don't know how or why you ended up with this child, but i'm glad you did," i told her and she laughed heartily.

"he's cute, isn't he?"

"no," i quickly stepped into the guest bedroom and took a long shower, letting a few tears slip but not enough so that it looked like it. i was subtle.

i bundled up in heavy clothing and wrapped my hair in a towel.

gingerly, i bandaged the wound.

by the snores in the other room, lee was asleep. i crept out quietly, going to cook something.

alicia was sitting down, with my favourite comfort meal prepared. i felt tears of appreciation well up in my eyes.

"thank you, ali, i love you."

"you damn well do."

we both giggled.

"what happened?" she asked me.

"nothing. i just wanted a change."

"from fred? liar. i'll ask again. what happened, y/n?"

"just a long mission, that's all."

"after long missions you usually watch movies with fred."

"couldn't i visit my best friend and my cuz?"

"you visit us on weekends. it's a friday."

"well i wanted to visit you!"

"bullshit."

"is it that hard to believe?"

"what the fuck did fred do to you?"

"nothin'?"

"c'mon y/n, you have to tell me. there's a reason why you didn't go to angie and george's tonight."

"i went here because they're super kissy. you guys have space and act normally. i appreciate that."

"you're awesome at lying."

"i'm not lying!"

"does this happen to involve pretoria aphrodite?"

i nodded, sighing, "she's so nice and pretty." i played with my food.

"i bumped into her. she's pretty, but not nice."

"oh?"

"she called me fiercely ugly. she forgot i model for witch weekly too."

"what did you say back?"

"i told her to fuck off."

i laughed, "she was very nice to me. but next time i see her imma kill her."

"of course she was nice to you, you're a lil angel! anyway, she's an animagus, didya know?"

"whoa how did you know?"

"caught her in a jar. she's a fly. who do you think told hermione to catch rita skeeter in the jar?"

i laughed, "rita skeeter is a beetle! gosh, she's annoying."

"what did fred and pretoria do?"

"nothing."

"please tell me?"

"they-" i swallowed, "they were kissing, and so i came here because i didn't wanna watch anymore."

"hang on, he told you he loved you a few days ago?"

i nodded.

"that doesn't seem right."

i shrugged, "pretoria's better than me. i don't blame him."

"his mother would kill him!"

i shrugged again, "i don't think he was legit when he said that."

"molly weasley, y/n!"

"look, he can explain it to you, i don't even wanna hear it. the first stage of mourning is denial, they say."

"doesn't mean it's good."

"denial is awesome. it's ignorance, but you choose to be stupid. i'm already so stupid!" i groaned, covering my face with my hands, "so so so so so so so stupid, foolish, dumb, and i don't want you to tell me i'm not because i know i am. pathetic."

i gobbled down the rest of the meal, "ths 's delicous," i said, swallowing, "g'night!"

"don't be afraid to let it all out."

"yeah."

i shut the door softly, before brushing my teeth and collapsing exhaustedly on the bed, nodding off quickly.

the next day, i woke at 4am, and put on new clothes, apparating to the phone box and filling out paperwork for the missions yesterday.

i joined hermione quickly, handing her a cappucino and sipping my mocha.

"court sitting this early?" she asked me.

i nodded, "mistake of sirius black, now they do all court sittings within 24 hours of arrest."

"that's smart."

"yeah. it's good. he's obviously guilty right? just a dust of veritaserum to bring it all out?"

"i reckon he'll just confess."

"criminals don't go down easily."

"you guys did a spotting job. the children were unharmed."

"are they here today?"

"they're in st mungo's. being monitored."

"parents?"

"dead."

"oh gosh, those poor children. what's going to happen to them?"

"someone's adopting them, wally becker and his wife."

"that's awesome."

the court hushed as we entered the room. hermione and i shared amused glances and began the sitting.

he was found to be guilty and was chucked in azkaban.

"what an idiot, sending a message like that."

"yup," i chuckled, "what with hepole in our ministry, they never escape."

we laughed.

"how's everything with ron?" i asked her.

"i don't know if he's still into me?"

i almost laugh at her statement, "bro. of course he is."

"i never see him."

"then see him more!"

"how? i'm so busy!"

"busy enough for ron?" we both took sandwiches from the canteen lady with courteous smiles and words.

we sat down at the cafeteria.

"i guess not, but he's busy!"

"busy enough for you?"

"i guess not."

"'xactly."

"but he might not wanna go on a date."

"why? the boy's obsessed with you, 'mione!"

the aurors and ministry workers looked at us in fear as i rose up. i chuckled.

i immediately skipped over to the telephone, putting in the WWW's number.

"y/n! what on earth are you doing?" hermione said in a panicked tone.

"nothing to be worried 'bout."

"hello?" it was george. i thanked the heavens for that.

"yolo george, give the phone to your lil bro please."

"'kay."

hermione was gaping at me. i smirked at her.

"y/n?"

"hey ron, i want you to meet me in rosemary park at 5pm today."

"o-okay."

"could you also bring hermione's favourite snacks and wear an extra jumper?"

"what? why?"

"i'm curious, that's all," i said, "see you there!"

"is that y/n?" i heard fred's voice.

"nup, it isn't," i replied.

and with that, i hung up.

"hey 'mione?"

she was glaring at me, "what."

"meet me at rosemary park at 5pm?" i batted my eyelashes at her, before bursting out in laughter.

she laughed, "i love you."

"pfft, love ya too. you really are too careful. like he would reject you."

"what do you think i should wear?"

"let's go off work early today, at 3," i suggested, "we're both on top of our work anyway."

"okay! you wanna go now?"

"it's 11?"

"yeah!"

"alrighty! kalle!"

kalle turned to us, "yes?"

"hi! me and minister are going out to talk about the mission."

"alright, bye."

we apparate to hogsmeade.

"what theme do you wanna go for?"

"hmm," she thought for a second, "floral!"

"alrighty!" i fumbled for my cell phone and dialled the WWW's again.

"hello?" it was fred this time.

"heyo freddie," i said to him like nothing had ever happened, "tell ron to dress up at 5 pm in something cute but not too out there, preferably in florals or somethin', and he better bring me hermione's favourite flowers."

"wha? if he's going with you then- ohhhh."

"thanks, bye."

"wait!"

"mhm?"

"can we talk?"

"erm- about what exactly?"

"everything."

i sighed, "later, okay? i'm out with hermione and you've got work."

"okay. have a good time, lovely."

"you too."

i was utterly confused. here he was one day kissing pretoria, and now he was calling me lovely?

what the hell was going on?

"let's go, mione!"

we went and bought her a pretty pink dress with white lilies adorning it. it was cute and definitely casual, sort of like a sundress.

"what if he doesn't come?" hermione chewed on her lip.

"hermione jean granger, we both know that ron is absolutely definitely a thousand times head over heels in love with you. he wouldn't ditch you for the world! and look at you! anyone can see he's lucky to have you! you both are star-crossed. when has he ever ever ditched you?"

"with lav brown."

"lavender, she's, she's dead, hermione," i said carefully, "fenrir greyback bit her to death. it was a tragic, heroic, death. she was listed in the extended casualties sent to my office a few months after the battle. i think she's watching down on us from wherever she is up there."

"she's dead?"

"yeah," i replied sadly, "life is so short."

"yeah."

"what i'm tryna say, is that that might've happened, but it won't happen again now that he knows you love him and he loves you. understand?"

"yeah."

"and love him well, for the sake of lavender brown."

"for the sake of lavender brown," she said, smiling.

"yup, now, light lord. his name is actually pont knight."

"pont knight?"

"former assistant of me."

"pont knight?"

"yeah, i know right."

"how did he go again?"

"oh, i fired him," i laughed.

"why?"

"smart guy but terribly lazy and he kept asking for promotions! like please do something if you want money."

"interesting."

"he moved to eastern europe to chase after the trendiness of the islands. i think it was just an excuse. he's changed. he used to be clean-shaven and have the blondest hair."

"do you think he did anything else?"

"we did put him on veritaserum, right?"

"yeah, but it's illegal to put someone on it for more than 10 minutes now in court sittings."

"we could go visit him in azkaban later? i'll take gregir."

"yeah, maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

i nodded, "'course. today is a rest day for the aurors right?"

she nodded, "yeah, half of the agency is at home or working out in the gym."

"good. sometimes this work is so tolling, 'mione."

"yeah, i heard from st mungo's you got hurt?" her eyes were concerned.

i rolled up my sleeve, "that's it."

"that's it? what do you mean, that's terrible! you need to take better care of yourself."

"well sometimes it's hard to. it was worth it."

we continued chatting until it was 4:30.

"oop!" she checked her watch, "i have to go!"

"good luck! tell me how it goes, minister! i'll head back to check if anyone's called for you or me and dust it all up."

"thanks. i owe you."

"nah. i owe my job to you. if minister for magic didn't exist, i wouldn't either. i love you 'mione, be safe!"

"love you too!"

i apparated to the phone box and typed my letters in.

with a whoosh, i immediately spotted two letters and a beeping phone. i answered the phone, solving the problem of the woman on the other end of the line and scribbled a reply to both of the letters.

i finished the paperwork and sent it off, then visited my office. it was piling with letters. i answered all of them, redirecting some of them to different departments, before calling everyone back.

i spotted some of the aurors from yesterday's mission sitting in the cafeteria and talking.

i sat down next to them, "how are you guys doing? any injuries?"

they shook their heads, "we've been spending time in the healer's office and just exercising lightly by the orders of johnny," argonas explained and i nodded.

"take it lightly, and go home if you want to. seeing family always helps the process, hopefully not too many nightmares?"

they laughed, "nightmares all the time, miss," hawk said lightly, "get used to it in this job."

i frowned, "have you tried speaking to doctor yvonne? she might have ways to solve nightmares."

"ahh, miss, sleeping draughts can only do so much," hawk replied cordially.

i laughed, "alright, hawkeye, but just make sure you're not getting traumatised okay? what about you, lopex, quentins?"

they shrugged.

"it's okay? the door was very hard to bust into," lopex said quietly, "we had to try several bombarding charms."

"now, lop, it was easy work!" draco said, sitting down, "hello, head auror, hello unit."

it brought on a cacophony of greetings.

"how are you doing, dray?" harry sat down next to him, "hi everyone!"

we all replied with more greetings and a steady conversation started and flowed for a couple of hours.

i felt my cell phone go off and i excused myself, noting it was 9pm already.

i apparated to the apartment doorstep, knocking on the door just in case anything was happening. i checked the caller id, it was hermione.

fred opened the door, hair messy, still good looking. i smiled at him, patting his shoulder as i ran to the ringing telephone and picked it up.

"y/n!" i could just hear the beam in hermione's voice.

"'mione! how did it go?"

"absolutely wonderful, head auror, ahhh, he's so cute!"

"what happened?" i asked, smiling already.

"well it was really cold when i saw the picnic blanket, which was matching my dress for some weird reason, and ron was there in the cutest button up and he looked so handsoME and he gave me a flower, he's always handsome but i just can't! ahhhh!" she squealed and i clapped my hands in excitement.

"and then i was shivering and he gave me hiS JUMPER and it smelled like him and oh my gosh i think i might just be in love, y/n!"

i giggled, "my cooling charm did work!"

"whaT y/n????"

cackling, i said, "continue, i wanna hear more this is so adorable!!!"

i ignored the dirty glance fred gave me, quietening my voice.

"and then we had food and he said he had cooked it himself and was being such a dear and i told him that i loved him over and over again!!!"

i squealed silently again.

"and, and, gosh my english has gone out of the window!"

"english is nothing compared to the language of love!!" i giggled.

"we watched the sunset whilst cuddling, and i fell asleep and then when i woke up i was in his bed and he was looking at me intently and i just, i'm the luckiest girl alive!"

"you are but you deserve it! that's so sweet! i'm happy for you goshhh, you are the cutest couple. you're both such darlings!"

"and then we watched a muggle movie and he got scared of the spiders and it was so adorable ahhhhHHHH!!!"

"that's the cutesttttt," i gushed.

another dirty look from fred. i gave him a frown back.

"and then he walked me home and it started raining and we kissed in the rain and another check off of my bucketlist and oh my gosh he's so perfect."

"oh gosh that's beautiful," i was smiling uncontrollably.

"anyway," her tone changed into one of mischief, "wanna meet up tomorrow to talk about it?"

"sure thing! when and where? i'll be there!"

"erm, lemme chec- think," i heard the suspicious rustling of papers.

"you're sus. let's just talk about it over the phone. i don't want anything weird."

"how about 10 am in the morning at the field of fireflies?"

"that's a highly romantic place, miss minister. isn't it for couples or something?"

"no? you must be talking about fiona farm."

oh. "yeah, probs, well okay, it better have good coffee. i'm dying of boredom too, does it have a playground??" i asked, hopefully crossing my fingers.

"nope."

"awww, shucks, i don't think i'll go then. you wanna come over though?"

"no please come! there's a surprise!"

i was sold, "lovely. i'll be there at 9:30!"

"no, no, don't do that."

"what the hell, hermione, you're being so suspicious!"

"i'm not, okay? just come on time, you won't regret it."

"if there's any funny business i'm not committing arson ever again."

"oh crap."

i sighed.

"just come anyway!!! good night cheerio!!!"

"what the-"

the line ended.

i frowned, noticing the glare fred gave me yet again.

"is everything okay??" i asked him.

"no," he said rudely.

"well, do you need any help?"

"no."

"how was your day?"

"fine."

i sighed, "okay."

"you called ron cute."

i laughed lightly, "that's it?? and so what's kissing a girl huh, nothing? i called him cute because he treats 'mione like a goddess, because she is a goddess, for goodness sake. and he is cute, in a completely objective way," i added absentmindedly, "all you weasleys are."

he frowned.

"she kissed me!"

"oh i don't mind, i couldn't. my two braincells can't handle it. you kiss whoever you wanna, okay? live, laugh, love, and all that." i smiled.

he was silent.

"and we can talk after i meet up with hermione, okay?"

"okay."

"we don't needa if you don't wanna, of course. g'night."

"have a nice sleep."

the next morning, i got up and went to the field of fireflies or whatever.

it was a beautiful place. it was a full on field. meadows stretched across the near english countryside. the sky was clear and light, and the world around me was stunning.

winds blew from all directions, and i soon found myself accio!ing a jumper.

"hermioneeee???" i called, "you're leaving me hanging."

had hermione stood me up? i chuckled at the very thought, soon rolling in the field of flowers as i laughed.

"hermione you devil you stood me up! you left your poor little work wife hanging!" i shouted dramatically.

i suddenly spotted a little house? by the side of the meadow.

i ran towards it.

"whoa."

it was absolutely magnificent. beige little bricks were stacked on top of each other, grey bricks dotted in. the shillings were dark green, and plants hung out everywhere in the cracks of the house.

large windows which reflected the blue light in the sky spanned across the whole house, and a single wooden door stood ajar.

i just wish i had brought a camera. i sat on the grass, playing with the hem of my jumper sadly. even hermione didn't have time for me. i wondered what a sad person i must seem like.

"contemplating life there?" i heard a far off voice. i swung my head around, seeing fred standing and grinning.

yeah well duh i was, no thanks to you, i thought.

i immediately got up.

"we can talk here, right?" fred asked, as he brought me into the house.

"wow," inside, it was cluttered and messy, with plants sprouting everywhere and bookcases and things everywhere. i loved it.

"you like it?" he asked.

"love it."

"good, because i bought it," he laughed at my flabbergasted expression, "i'm rich, darlin'. let's sit, i cooked lunch."

"was this your plan? to have hermione stand me up?" i asked.

"love, i wouldn't call this a plan. simply just a boy trying to explain himself."

"look i don't need an explanation. i told you, you can love whoever you wanna, i don't mind, i don't care, i support."

"but i'm gonna have to explain because i wanna kiss you."

"then go ahead," i sighed, "if you're lying i will stab you."

"jeesh okay."

i looked at him.

"oh yeah, i forgot the food, here," he said casually, handing me a plate filled with yummy looking delicacies. i was willing to put up with his rubbish story telling for the food, i guess.

"alright, i'm all ears."

"okay. so she talked with you right?"

i nodded.

"did she take a piece of hair from you?”

i nodded again.

"so you came home just right about when the night lights flicker on in london. or so i thought it was you. it was actually, aphrodite, yeah? in polyjuice potion. and she knocked on the door, which i thought was strange. i opened it and she immediately kissed me, as you. and it was weird but it was you and i would give the world to kiss you like that," he said bluntly and i could feel my face heating up, "and then it went like that for a few seconds and she turned into pretoria, and by then the woman had her claws on me. then the door opened and i knew i had made a mistake and then you left and apologised so sweetly. i'm so so sorry, my love, please, i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to do anything. i broke up with her last year. i haven't wanted to be with her since. i want to be with you."

i looked at him. i knew he was genuine.

"okay. i'm sorry too, for not trusting you. i guess i was just really unsure of our relationship. it's still kinda blurry."

"what do you wanna be?"

"could we be official, please?"

he grinned, "of course."

then smiling sheepishly, he added, "can i kiss you now?"

"only if i'm the only girl you kiss from now on," i teased, smiling.

he blushed, placing my hands over his heart. it was beating very very fast.

"feel that, beautiful?"

i nodded.

"only you."

he gave me a cheesy grin and laughed at my blushing face, before tilting my head upwards and going in for a kiss but kissing my cheek.

"that's not fair!"

and that's how his head ended up falling into my lap, as i ran my fingers through his ginger strands.

he had fallen asleep just as the sunset began.

it was breathtaking. hues of orange and red danced across the sky.

"i can think of something a lot more beautiful than that," fred said, smiling.

"oh?"

"yeah. yeah."

"i don't believe you."

"that's because you can't see yourself right now."

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

‘Nilla Bean (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!Reader)

Summary: A cowboy in your coffee shop is not the way you’d expected your morning to go, but you’re not complaining; especially not when he’s as attractive as he is.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: talk of food/eating, brief allusions to alcohol, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, I think there’s like a single use of fuck

A/N: okay I’ve been thinking about this FOREVER but I finally went ahead and wrote it!!! hope u guys like it, I’m a sucker for a coffee shop AU as a barista myself :) thx @theteddylupinexperience for helping me name it and motivating me to write it lol

When you started your shift this morning, you’d groaned as you tied the apron around your waist, expecting an uneventful day. Most were. If you were lucky enough to see someone you knew or to have an especially nice customer, you’d consider it a good day. You didn’t know when you walked in that it would be the good day to end all good days: nothing could top this one.

Weekday mornings in the fall aren’t particularly busy. The majority of your customers come around the morning rush, and the remaining ones are usually retirees or house-spouses and their young children. It’s enjoyable, days like these, that don’t require you to dash about the shop.

The only problem, really, is having nothing to do. You clean the coffee grinder, wipe down tables, wipe down everything else, then do it all again. Restocking, usually an endless chore, isn’t even an option; no one’s using anything in the first place. You and your coworkers chat, deep-cleaning the coolers, washing the blender stations, and doing the dirty work. When a customer comes, you’re the lucky one who gets to go take their order and put your task on hold first.

It seems like you’ve done every task twice, even when your manager introduces yet another idea for you to deal with. To bide your time, you prep coffee for later, rearrange the case of pretty little pastries that sits next to your register, and doodle on your station with a paint pen, humming to the soft music playing in the shop.

People come and go, some picking up mobile orders and some ordering from you, some choosing to eat inside and some taking their food to go. You sip your drink happily between customers- a white mocha with caramel.

At one point, you’re in the back and washing dishes when a coworker peeks his head into the back. “Hey, you got someone up front!” He informs you, and you nod and wander out through the swinging doors.

Well. That’s certainly a sight for a Tuesday morning.

The man standing at the register is wearing a painfully well-tailored suit jacket, with gray tweed and patches on the elbows. Beneath it is a white top and a black tie, and the man wears jeans on the bottom half. Interesting.

Perhaps more interesting is the large cowboy hat perched atop his head. The man’s face, below the brim of his Stetson, is incredibly handsome. He has an aquiline nose, a neatly trimmed mustache that wouldn’t work on anyone else, and warm brown eyes that make you smile softly.

“Hi,” you comment as you log into the register. “Are you a part of our rewards program?” You ask as part of your regular spiel.

The man furrows his brow then shakes his head. “Uh, no. No I’m not. Can you sign me up now?” He asks, and his voice makes your chest flutter with the tone. It’s rich and smooth, with a beautiful southern twang.

Looking at your register and back at him, you shake your head. “It’s just an app on your smartphone, really easy,” you tell him.

“Ah, damn,” he groans and pulls it from his pocket. “I’m shit with technology. Why don’t you just… type it in here?” He says, handing you his phone with a notes page open. His thick fingers accidentally lock the phone as he hands it to you.

You tap the screen to wake it and find the background to be a picture of a cute little pig all covered in mud. “Uh, you locked it,” you chuckle. “What’s the password?”

The man looks down shyly. “1-2-3-4. Don’t make fun’a me, I’m like a grandpa with these newfangled phones.”

It’s endearing, you have to admit, and it makes you giggle. “Not a problem. I’m not here to chide you on your security choices,” you shrug. You type in the code and find the app, starting the download for him before handing back his phone. “Can I get a name to start your order?” You ask as you look up at him.

His eyes hold a warmth there, radiating off of his smile. “Whiskey.”

“Your mother named you Whiskey?” You tease as you type in the name, returning back to the main page of beverages. “Some kind of legal name.”

The man shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just what I go by at work.”

Whiskey likes conversation, you notice, and it makes you chuckle a little. “You got a real name then?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow beneath your visor.

The man tips his hat. “Jack Daniels, at your service.” He says and offers you a hand, which you take and shake.

“That’s a lie. You’re telling me your nickname is Whiskey and your real name is a type of whiskey?”

The man shrugs. “My momma had a real funny sense of humor, I guess. My daddy loved the booze so they went with it. I work for Statesman, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

“Ah, the distillery,” you nod with a smile, not grasping the depth of what Statesman actually does. How could you? “Well then, Jack,” you say with an honest grin on your face. “What can I get you to drink?”

Whiskey, Jack, whatever his name is, looks up at the menu, scanning the different beverages. “Well. That sure is a lot of choices. I’m new to the area, so I don’t know the menu yet, and I don’t know the first thing about coffee other than how to make it in a machine,” he admits to you. “What would you recommend, sugar?”

Sugar. Your heart beats a million times faster at the man’s words. You’ve had lots of weird and creepy men call you different things, but you’ve never been flustered and enjoyed it. This man is getting to you, quickly. “Well, how strong do you take your coffee?”

He thinks about that for a second, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket. “Pretty strong. A little sweet, with cream. I usually take it Irish style,” he admits with a chuckle, tapping a belt buckle that you realize is a tiny flask. Jesus. That’s not cheesy.

“Well, we don’t serve alcohol,” you laugh and look down at your screen. “We have all kinds of flavors.” You list them all off, off the top of your head, now staring at the ceiling to recite them all. “And our seasonal drink is pumpkin spice.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Wonderful and all, but what do you like? You seem like you’ve got a good taste, darlin’, tell me what you’d recommend.”

God, these names are going right to where they shouldn’t, especially not when this handsome man is leaning on your counter and flirting with you as he orders his coffee. “I like vanilla.” You shrug.

The man laughs and stands. “I hate to say it, sugar, but I’m not a very vanilla man,” he says, his head tilting down and his dark, sultry eyes peeking out at you from just below the brim. His voice is seductive, implying something else other than the flavor.

Oh fuck. “Oh, not like that,” you laugh as your face floods with warm blood, anxiety coursing through your veins. “Not vanilla in that way.” Fuck, that’s even worse, you think and grip the counter so as to not physically cringe at your words.

“Not like that, huh?” His words are still so seductive and flirtatious it makes you want to combust. Maybe you will, if he keeps this going.

“N-no,” you stammer, looking down at the menu screen again. “I mean, I just think it’s underrated. People dismiss it as boring, but it’s really just as interesting of a flavor as anything else. It tastes really good with our espresso.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, a smirk on his face. His lip pokes out just slightly to wet his lips and you shiver involuntarily, your skin pricking up all across your body. God, you hope he can’t see it. “I’ll trust you on it, ‘nilla bean,” the man drawls and stands up straight again. “Triple espresso with vanilla and cream.”

You nod and ring that in. God, if he keeps going with the nicknames, you’re going to melt into a puddle here and now.

“What are these?” He asks as his fingers trace over the drawings on the counter, lifting them and finding the pink and green powder of the dried paint has transferred to his fingertips.

God, he makes you nervous, but in a good way. In the best way possible, a way that makes you want to knock that cowboy hat off his head and find out if his lips are as soft as they look. “I draw when I’m bored. It’s been a slow day,” you chuckle as your own fingers trace the crawling vines and flowers you’d painted there. “Sorry about the transfer,” you chuckle and your fingertips brush his, making you involuntarily shudder again at the contact. His fingertips are calloused and radiate warmth. “Uh, can I get you anything to eat?” You ask and gesture at the bakery case.

The man inspects it for a moment, looking at the various foods lined up under the soft white light. “I’ll take one’a these,” he says and pokes a finger towards the chocolate chip cookies through the glass. You nod and take one out for him, putting it in a little paper sleeve and handing it over. “How much is this gonna hurt my wallet?” He asks, pulling it out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Give me one second.” You type in your code for your employee discount, which takes a moment.

“What’re you typin’ there, ‘nilla bean?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Looking up at him, you push your visor up your face and smile a little. “Oh, I’m giving you my employee discount. It’s ridiculously priced here.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t have to do that for me, sugar. I’m just a regular ol’ customer.”

It’s your chance, you realize, to say something or stay silent forever. “Well, I like you,” you admit and take the credit card he hands you, swiping it through the machine. “And I’m hoping you’ll at least become a regular. I’d like to see you more,” you tell him with a grin.

The man’s face lights up, even beneath the shadow of his brim. “I’d like that too,” he nods and pockets his card when you hand it back.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you smile at each other, both of you lovestruck immediately. “Uh, your drink will be right up over there,” you say and nod to the other end of the café. “Are you going to drink that here or take it to go?” You ask.

“Oh, here,” he nods.

“Perfect,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’ll just bring it to you when it’s ready. Nothing better to do today,” you shrug and wander down to the other end before Jack, Whiskey, whatever can refute you.

You take the cup from your coworker, humming to yourself as you put some vanilla and cream in the cup, pulling the espresso shots. When it’s ready, it barely reaches the halfway mark of the small cup, so you top it with a little whipped cream. You suspect the man has more of a sweet tooth than he lets on.

Pocketing a pink paint marker, you put a lid on the drink and walk out to the dining room, setting the coffee down across from him. He’s munching on the cookie he’d ordered, looking up at you with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you smile and pull out the chair across from him, sitting down and pulling out the paint pen. “I put a little extra whipped cream on top. I thought it would go well with the espresso, make it a little creamier or something.”

As you uncap the paint pen, Jack’s brow furrows as he watches you. “Whatcha doing there?” He asks as you bring his cup closer to yourself and write something on the top.

“Being brave,” you chuckle and cap the pen, sliding it back. “I gotta head back. Enjoy it,” you say as you stand and pat him on the shoulder.

Only as you walk back to the register does Whiskey comprehend exactly what you put on the top of his cup. It’s your phone number, in that chalky pink paint, and a smiley face beneath it.

Jack may not be great with technology, like he told you, but he immediately pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Then he enters the number into a contact, filling out the name: ‘Nilla Bean.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent jack daniels #agent jack daniels x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #kingsman: the golden circle

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

#the night shift #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

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