#oh well time to go listen to too loud music and rest and paint and then listen to tma some more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slayfics · 5 months

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A Ride Home

You go to a party with Denki.

Warnings: Angst | Denki aged up | NSFW themes | Denki is kind of a scumbag in this sorry ;-;

2,200 words~

Chapter links

Part One

You shifted in the passenger seat feeling nervous but trying to look confident. All your nervousness faded as Denki made his way into the driver's seat and turned to you.

"You look really amazing today by the way, like wow~" He said, eyes sparkling and smiling at you in his passenger seat.

"Thank you Kaminari," You replied and couldn't help the blush growing on your cheeks. "You look good too," you said shyly. And he did look good. His Pikachu hoodie looked adorable on him.

"Awe, you're too kind," He laughed and unlocked his phone, putting the directions on to the party at Mina's place you were both headed to. "Sooo are you ready for this party?" He asked.

"Yeah! I'm excited to see everyone, and just relax for a bit, you know?" You replied.

"Oh yeah- I get ya. This week has been sooo hard. Can't wait to drink and just not think about anything having to do with hero stuff." Denki paused for a bit as he listened to the directions coming from his phone. "I guess I'm excited to see everyone too, but being honest- I'm mostly just excited to spend some time with you," Denki said, giving you a small wink.

Your face flushed once more and your heart fluttered at his playful comment. Denki had this way of making you feel like you were the only girl in the world. When you were with him it felt impossible to have any insecurities. He silenced them all with the way his eyes sparked when he saw you, and you were sure you could get lost in his gaze, it was addicting.

"I'm- excited to spend time with you too," You answered him nervously, playing with your fingers, as you took another glance at him. His hand drooped lazily over the steering wheel as he drove, and you noticed the black and yellow nail polish on his fingers that had started to chip. It must have been a week ago that he agreed to let you paint them. He had also recently showered for the party so his hair was especially fluffy, almost inviting you to play with it. And his cologne was subtly invading your nose luring you in.

"Well- if that's the case... we could...skip the party? Just go back to my place?" He asked, giving you a sly smile.

You felt your heart stop. Was he really insinuating what you think he was? You bit your lip while you contemplated his invitation. You've had a crush on Denki for a while now, and the thought of skipping the party to just be with him sounded exhilarating. You had promised Mina you would show up though, and you didn't want to break that promise.

"I promised Mina I would at least make an appearance at her party..." You said softly, disappointed in yourself for not giving in and saying yes to him.

Denki laughed, "No worries! We'll go to the party and see what it has to offer, kay? We are almost there too. GPS says two more minutes. Oh hey!" He said excitedly as he picked up his phone to change the song playing. "I have a song to show you," he said, turning the volume up. "This song totally reminds me of you," He said, smile shimmering.

There it was again- your heart dropped and you felt stupidly happy by all his attention, "That is- so cute Kaminari, this song really reminds you of me?" you asked.

"Mhm- sure does, I think about you every time it comes on. Looks like we're here though," he said, parking the car. "Stay here, kay? I'll grab your door," Denki turned the car off and made his way outside to the passenger side door.

Denki opened your door with his signature smile, "Ready?" he asked, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You grabbed his hand and he gently helped you out of the car. "Damn," He said, eyeing your outfit again. "Sorry- just can't get over how good you look today. I hope the rest of our friends are able to handle it~ Ok let's go," he said, guiding you to the front door.

You could hear the loud music from inside as you both approached the front door. You felt your heart rate begin to increase. Big social events already made you a bit anxious. Denki knocked and smiled at you, noticing your apprehensiveness, "Don't look so nervous cutie, it's just our friends. We'll have a good time, promise."

Mina opened the door, a smile erupting on her face when she saw you both, "You guys made it!" She said, wrapping her arms around you both. "Come in, come in!" She said and pulled you both in and shut the door.

"Everyone is pretty much here already, drinks are in the kitchen, and thanks for coming! I was in the middle of a conversation with Tsu so- I'll leave you both to it," She winked at you and left. Mina was the only one you had confessed your feelings about Denki to, and ever since then, she had tried to push you closer to him. Which while annoying, was actually helpful.

"Don't have to tell me twice, let's get some drinks cutie?" Denki asked, looking at you for approval.

You nodded and followed him into the kitchen.

"HEY MAN!" An excited Eijiro called out upon noticing Denki. "You finally got here! Feels like I've been waiting forever! Oh and hi to you too," Eijiro said, smiling sweetly at you.

"Sorry, the cutie over here needed some extra time to get into that super attractive outfit," Denki joked, flashing you a wink.

Eijiro laughed, "No worries man, hey I'm going to get Sero and Bakugo so we can all take a shot. Stay right here ok!" Eijiro said leaving the kitchen in a hurry.

"Oh wow a shot right away, hu?" You laughed trying to hide your nervousness.

"Kirishima gets too excited when we all get together. He's a good guy though. Oh, and don't worry here," Denki said, grabbing you an alcoholic seltzer. "Just use this as a chaser if you need it, kay? I'll be right here so it'll be fine, no need to worry~"

Kirishima returned to the kitchen followed by a smiling Hanta and a scowling Katsuki.

"Alright, let me just get five shot glasses," Eijiro said while puttering around the kitchen.

"Four! I'm not drinking that crap. I'm the one that has to look out for you idiots," Katsuki growled.

"Bakugoooo~! You haven't drunk all night, one shot with your bros isn't going to keep you from your DD duties," Eijiro complained.

"UGH! Fine, but I swear shitty hair just the one! Got it?" Katsuki snarled.

"Of course man, just the one," Eijiro said, as he poured out five shots, and began to pass them around.

"Alright, everyone ready?" Eijiro asked, looking around the group.

"Yup," Hanta nodded.

"What should we cheers to?" Denki asked.

"Hmmm, plus ultra?" Hanta said laughing.

"I'll fucking murder you," Katsuki said unamused by the joke.

"Let's just- cheers to a fun night. Yeah?" Eijiro suggested.

"Sounds good to me~" Denki agreed.

You followed the boy's lead and raised your shot glass, then reluctantly poured the shot into your mouth. The bitter taste was hard to ignore, causing you to wince.

"You got it cutie, just don't think about it and swallow it fast. You won't have to taste it that way," Denki said, encouraging you.

Hanta and Eijiro laughed at each other, seemingly about what Denki said.

"You fucking pervs," Katsuki grumbled and looked away from the group.

"Alright, there you go, I knew you could do it!" Denki smiled, as you finally managed to get the shot down.

"Ok should we get back to the party then?" Eijiro suggested.

"Yeah! Hey Kaminari, some of those girls from Class B are here," Hanta said, wrapping his arm around Denki.

"Oh really~" Denki said looking at his friend mischievously, as Hanta guided him out of the kitchen. Eijiro trailed right behind them.

For the first time of the night, your heart dropped in a very different way, as you stood in the kitchen dumbfounded.

What?

Hadn't Denki been flirting with you this whole night? In the car, in the kitchen saying your outfit was attractive. He had even called you cutie several times in the past hour. And- invited you to skip the party to go to his place, oh-

You felt your heart shattering into pieces as you came upon a thought that was too painful to accept: Denki's just trying to get laid.

"God damn that's a pathetic look on your face," Katsuki said, causing you to jump. You hadn't noticed he didn't follow the rest of the boys.

"Hu? Oh uh- just the shot still lingering in my mouth I guess," You said, trying to find any lie you could.

"Tch- You think I'm stupid or something? I've noticed the eyes you've been giving Dunce Face the past few weeks. You've got it bad for him." Katsuki said, freezing you in place.

"It... it's that obvious?" You asked pathetically and looked down at the floor. If it was that obvious, did Denki notice too, you wondered?

"Of course it is! Maybe it isn't to those other extras, but- it is to me. I'm not clueless like the rest of them," Katsuki replied. You fiddled with the drink in your hand and then thought maybe Katsuki could give you some advice.

"He's your friend right??" You asked.

"Barley," Katsuki exhaled amused.

"Well- what do you think I should do?" You asked looking up at Katsuki.

"Hm-" Katsuki looked at you with an intense stare as if thinking over his answer. "Forget him," He said sternly.

"Wh-what?!" You explained. That was not the answer you expected.

"You heard me. Forget the damn sparky idiot, save yourself some trouble." Katsuki said and exited the kitchen, leaving you alone to process what that could have meant.

Katsuki was one of Denki's friends whether he admitted it or not, and- he said to forget him... What does he know that you don't, you wondered. You felt tears sting your eyes as your mind wandered back to your previous thoughts. Denki is just trying to get laid, and Katsuki's words seem to back up that theory.

You ran over every interaction you ever had with Denki, he was always overly flirty but... he never did ask to date you. Never asked to take you out anywhere... It became painfully obvious what his intentions now were. How could you have been so blind before? A tear dropped down into your drink.

Fuck.

You didn't want to stand in the kitchen crying about it. You downed your drink instead, trying to numb out the painful thoughts. Crushing the can you tossed it and quickly grabbed another from the fridge.

Whatever.

It was a party, you could still have fun... even if your innocent daydreams of becoming Denki's girlfriend were now nothing but a cruel joke.

You walked out into the living room and imminently regretted it.

Denki was standing next to one of the girls that you recognized as being from class B. He was standing too close and was giving her those same sparkly eyes he had been flashing to you all night. The song just changed to a slower song allowing you to faintly hear their conversation.

"Oh wow, this song totally reminds me of you~," he said giving her a wink.

Your eyes stung and a lump gathered in your throat. Did he really just give her the same line he told you just moments ago? You ran quickly to the backyard hoping to outrun the pain. You collapsed onto the patio couch and hung your head in your hands. How did this night turn so quickly?

"Thought I told you to forget him," A stern voice said.

You looked up and through the blur of your tears could see unmistakable spiky blond hair.

"Fuck you're crying?" Katsuki sighed and sat next to you. "The hell made that idiot so appealing anyway?"

You took a deep breath trying to get yourself under control, "Made me feel special-," You said barely able to speak between your sobs.

"Just breathe, it'll be alright," Katsuki said. "Plenty of other extras better than that moron. You sure you still want to be here?" Katsuki asked.

You sniffed, "He drove me here," You explained. Fuck that's right, he took you here. The thought of facing him again after what you just saw made your stomach turn sour.

"Shit," Katsuki breathed out.

"Bakugo- can... can you take me home?" You asked, remembering he had said he was the DD for his friends tonight.

"Hu? Fuck-," He said contemplating for a second. "Yeah sure," He said standing up.

"What are you doing?" you asked confused.

"You want to go home right?" He asked.

"Oh I mean- when you are done, I don't want to make you miss the party," You said.

Katsuki let out a booming laugh, "I fucking hate these things. I'll take any excuse to leave. Besides- I'll make sure Dunce Face knows I took you home. That'll be sure to piss him off." Katsuki said, smirking at you.

You thought of how shocked Denki's face would look when Katsuki told him, and you couldn't help but smile. You knew wanting revenge was wrong but- it felt good.

"Come on cry baby, let's get the fuck out of here," Katsuki waved at you to follow him, and you did.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

#denki x y/n #denki x reader #mha denki #bnha denki #denki kaminari #denki x you #kaminari x y/n #mha kaminari #kaminari x reader #bnha kaminari #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x self insert #bnha x you #bnha x reader

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sunoksunny · 1 year

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𝓪 𝓼𝓮𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮

ep 5 » call me an idea bank

warnings: just fluff

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: listen to the playlist for this story here!

Jungwon felt as though his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. The loud pounding in his ears drowned out the music that was playing from the tall speakers sitting in the corner of the studio. You walked over to him easily, a careless smile spreading across your face. Jungwon wills himself to take a deep breath and returns your smile.

“Hey, Jungwon!”

“Hi, Y/n.”

He hears Heeseung snicker from the corner of the room. When Jungwon attempts to direct a glare toward Heeseung, the boy faces his partner, who was animatedly talking about god knows what, and suddenly becomes increasingly engrossed in the conversation. Letting out a sigh, Jungwon turns back to you.

“Do you wanna go to a café to brainstorm ideas?”

“Sure! I know a good one nearby.”

Jungwon smiles and lets you lead him to a small store about 5 minutes away. The cream brick exterior complimented the dark hickory sign hanging above the entrance. The inside was filled with plants and flowers of all kinds, resting on window sills and counters. A worker flashes them a kind smile and welcomes them joyfully. As the two of you arrive at the counter, Jungwon offers to pay for both of you, despite your meek protests. He orders an iced americano before stepping aside to let you order as well.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow at that and sees you send him a shy smile. After getting your drinks, you lead him to a small table near the back of the café, the afternoon light shining through the window beside your seats. As you tentatively blow on your steaming drink, Jungwon catches your gaze.

“Do you not like coffee?”

You lightly shake your head, hands unfurling from your cup as you set it down on the wooden table.

“I don’t. I usually just get hot chocolate at cafes, or just something sweet.”

Jungwon nods along, making a mental note in case you ever go to a café in the future. He watches as you pull out a small, light pink notepad and pen, setting them beside each other. You look up at him, grinning.

“Time to brainstorm!”

Jungwon lets an exaggerated groan fall from his mouth, his lips curling up in a smile when he hears your cheery laugh from across the table.

“The requirements say that we have to incorporate both of our specialties,” you recall, pressing the end of the pen against your lips.

“So, we have to use photography and dance,” he says. Hearing you hum in agreement, Jungwon continues, “but you take all of the dance courses, so should we just focus on one genre?”

Your gaze meets his, a shocked expression on your face.

“How did you know I take all genres?”

Jungwon stiffens, realizing he messed up. He feels heat begin to creep up his neck and his palms grow damp. He racks his brain for a suitable response, anything other than I watch you dance almost every day under the pretense of visiting my friends.

“Oh, I just heard that from Niki since you two are in all the same classes.”

You let out a noise of understanding, mumbling a “that makes sense”. Jungwon holds in his sigh of relief, worrying you might question that too.

“What if we did some kind of dance together, Jungwon?” you offer, “but I don’t know how to include photography in that.”

Jungwon giggles as an idea crosses his mind, causing you to give him a questioning smirk.

“Just hold a camera while dancing, problem solved.”

You break out into laughter, a wide grin taking over your features. Jungwon smiles at seeing your joy, watching as you attempt to stifle your giggles after receiving a few dry glances from the other customers.

“Ok ok, no camera holding. How about I take photos of you dancing and we use those as reference to paint?”

You nod your head, quickly scribbling the idea in the notepad. Halfway through your writing, you suddenly gasp and shoot your head up. Jungwon worriedly stares at you, about to ask what’s wrong when you begin excitedly talking.

“We could have two photos, one red and one blue, and have them side by side as if they are connected!”

You eagerly tell Jungwon about your idea, eyes alight with glee. Jungwon nods in agreement with a light smile, telling you to write that down. He swore his heart might burst for the second time today.

—

You let out a yawn and lean back in your seat, gulping down the rest of your hot chocolate before turning back to the boy across from you. You take the time to admire his features as he finishes his drink, taking careful sips. His pink lips purse every time he goes to drink more, and his hands would tighten their grip. Sometimes his hair would drift in front of his eyes and you could see his brows furrow through brown locks.

The two of you had decided on an idea and you were delighted that it was the one you had proposed. You felt helpful to have contributed at least that much, knowing Jungwon would have to guide you through the process of actually painting. You checked your phone, your eyes drifting through the notifications before flickering up to the time displayed in bold letters.

“Woah, it’s already 5:30. Jungwon, we’ve been here an hour!”

Jungwon’s eyes grew wide, setting down his now empty cup and grabbing his phone to confirm your words.

“An hour, already?” His eyes were comically big as they met yours and you felt a giggle slip past your lips.

“I know right? It only felt like 15 minutes, max.”

You both began to rise from your seats, walking side by side to the trashcan to throw away your empty drinks.

“I will try to find suitable outfits for the photo shoot, if I don’t have anything then I can just go buy something. I’ll send you photos and you can tell me if they work,” you told him, tossing your cup in the bin before turning towards the exit.

“Let me walk you home since it’s getting dark.”

“Are you sure? My house is kinda far.”

Jungwon gives you a kind smile and reassures you that he doesn’t mind. The light ring of the cafe’s bell bids you goodbye and the cool air envelops the both of you.

—

The two of you walk side by side, a comforting silence surrounding you. Ever so often you would peek over at Jungwon, hoping he wasn’t deterred by the cold air or the increasing time spent walking. He seemed content, a lazy smile playing on his lips and the wind brushing his hair back. His hands were tucked inside the pockets of his jacket, and his eyes caught yours with a grin.

“So,” Jungwon starts, sensing your embarrassment at having been caught staring, “why did you choose dance?”

Grateful he didn’t attempt to tease you, you happily indulge his question.

“I find it comforting. I like how I can express myself through motions instead of words. I’ve never been great with words, so I like how dancing gives me another opportunity to show who I am. It’s easier to make sense of my body than my brain.”

You look back at Jungwon, a gentle smile on his lips. His eyes seem to hold something you can only describe as adoration, and the thought makes heat crawl into your cheeks. You turn your head away from him, your own smile growing as you stare at your shoes.

“What about you? Why photography?”

You hear Jungwon let out a fond sigh and you peek your head up to look at him.

“I think that we see so many beautiful things as we live and I enjoy capturing these moments that have an impact on people. Whether it makes them feel happy, motivated, comforted, or even regretful, I think it is good to be able to feel those things. It makes you feel alive and makes you want to live. I think having those moments is important to who you are. And through photography, I can share those moments a little easier.”

Jungwon finishes with a blissful expression and you feel yourself almost becoming entranced if it weren’t for the fact that your house now stood in front of the two of you. Hearing the soft steps of your feet as you reached the front door, you turned back to face Jungwon.

“That’s actually really sweet.”

You watch with a shy smile as Jungwon’s face flushes and he shakes his head, refusing your words.

“No, no, it’s just something that I think is cool, there’s nothing super special about it.”

“But it’s special to you, right?”

Your question seems to catch him off guard and his chocolate brown eyes flutter up to yours. His mouth parts and closes as he attempts to sound out his thoughts.

“I mean, yea, but compared to you and your passion for dancing I don’t think it’s all that admirable or anything,” he manages to stutter out, his hands moving around for emphasis. You step forward and catch his hands, holding them tightly between you, letting the warmth of your skin mingle with his. His gaze watches where your hands are joined, flitting to your face when you speak.

“I think it’s really admirable that you want to encourage other people to appreciate life.”

You hold his gaze, searching for each golden fleck scattered in his irises. His cheeks turn pink and he looks back down at your hands, softly mumbling a small “thank you”. Silence stretches between you two as you watch Jungwon. You squeeze his hands once before letting go and stepping back.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jungwon, I appreciate it. I’ll text you more about the project soon, okay?”

Jungwon raises his head, face still tinted a rosy pink, and smiles. His words sound like honey as he tells you that it was no problem and that he was glad to do it. You feel warm and comfortable in his presence, and you wish you had an excuse to prolong your time with him.

“See you tomorrow, Jungwon.”

“See you, Y/n.”

With a final smile, you turn and step into your home, closing the door behind you. You bounce up the wooden stairs, skipping to your room with a giddy smile. Wondering if you could catch sight of Jungwon before he left, you poked your head through the curtains, seeing him still standing in front of your door. A light giggle erupts from your chest, finding his actions endearing. An idea pops into your head and you pull out your phone, opening his contact.

Looking back to Jungwon, you watch as he checks his phone. The rosy color on his cheeks deepens and he takes a deep breath before turning away from your front door. You watch as he carefully steps down your walkway and starts toward his own house, a smile gracing your face until he leaves your sight.

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➥ SUMMARY: when jungwon’s 9th grade teacher suggested he visit the dance and music department to gain inspiration for their midterm photography project, “passion”, jungwon didn’t understand. after seeing you, however, jungwon suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off you. ever since then, he would visit under the pretense of seeing his friends. he couldn’t help it, you brought his inspiration back to life. what will happen when his muse is in his painting class this year and their teacher assigns them as seatmates and partners?

➥ PAIRING: photography/art student!jungwon x dance/music student!reader (she/her) | featuring: enha, ive, lesserafim, nmixx, txt, skz

➥ GENRE: fluff, slow burn, high school/art school au, slice of life, humor (i think), possibly angst?, smau + written

➥ TW: swearing, kys/kms jokes, will add specific warnings to each chapter as needed

➥ TAGLIST: open! send an ask/message me if you want to be tagged

➥ STATUS: ongoing…

TAGLIST: @lovelypitasworld @fluffy-cl0ud @nabiii-byeolll @engenelxver @yejilyz @renhaissance @neozon3nha @lynanist @starrpt2

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joelmillershirtlessishwhatineed · 9 months

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Darlin' ~dbf Joel Miller

CHAPTER 1

Summary: You've known Joel Miller for years. He was your neighbour and your father's best friend. When you were younger, he took care of you. Now, you're twenty-two years old and can't look past the attraction anymore.

Warnings: no outbreak, age gap (Joel is 44, Reader is 22), swearing, alcohol mentioned, absent parent, Joel does have Sarah, she's 12-years old, smut in some chapters!

Author's Note: I hope I nail the American environment and language well! I'm Australian, so it's honestly not extremely different I reckon. Enjoy :)

Wordcount: 2,963

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Austin, Texas was your hometown. For eighteen years you lived in a suburban home with your father, up until you left for college a few hours from Austin. The suburbs you lived in were quiet, mostly the houses were owned by older people, no one near your age, so you didn't have many friends living near you. To the left of your house lived your favourite neighbours, Joel, and Sarah. You helped Joel out a lot by watching Sarah when she was younger, and in return, you insisted he teach you guitar. You helped them, they helped you.

Your childhood was not ideal, but not particularly bad. You never knew your mother and had no intentions to, and your relationship with your dad was purely fine. Though, throughout your teenage years, the relationship you once had with him had faltered. Your father was a troubled man and resulted to drinking. He never hurt you, never gave you any trouble, but he never tried. You didn't hold anything against him.

Now, four years after leaving your small town, you were finally back. You were staying with your father for the summer, resting up with the intention of building up the relationship again. Your room hadn't changed since you were last staying there, the walls painted a soft pink colour. Thankfully, your father had been kind enough to let you do whatever you wanted to make the room homier and so you decided you wanted to paint it back to a neutral shade.

You unpacked your bags slowly, listening to the music that played from your old stereo. You had a box of old clothes that didn't fit you anymore, sitting by your door, a reminder of how many years had passed since you were able to wear those clothes. You felt old in the bedroom that appeared to be for a little girl.

You could hear the tv on downstairs, your father's laughs echoing through the house. You smiled gently, peace surrounding you. Your phone dinged a few times, dragging you out of your small daydream. The text was from one of your closest friend from college, you rolled your eyes as you softly read the text out loud.

'Send me a pic of Mr Miller when you see him. Tell me if anything happens ;).'

"Oh my god." You muttered, throwing your phone on your bed. A few minutes later, you were finished unpacking. You made your way downstairs, your feet heavy on the floor as you headed to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water.

Your father looked over at you and huffed, "It's gonna be real hot this summer. You missed the heat?"

Your shorts clung to your thighs and your shirt felt heavy against your chest, you rolled your eyes, "God, no. I'm actually going to die."

"Always been dramatic. The Millers have a pool, you remember don't ya? Thinkin' we could have dinner tonight, welcome you back formerly." He nodded to himself, getting up to open up some windows.

You smile, moving out of the kitchen as you father entered, opening the fridge. "That sounds good dad. I reckon I'm gonna go and get some paint. The pink is actually killing me."

"What colour you thinkin', kid?" He asked, popping open a small can of beer. He moved lazily onto the couch, flopping down as you walked to the front door.

"No idea. Probably just white... I'll be back soon, don't drink too much, I might need help painting." You warned, sending him one last smile before you exit your house out into the warm environment. There wasn't a cloud in sight as the sun shown down onto the pavement below you, the heat travelling through your body.

You were in your own world, playing with your keys as you made your way down the driveway to the door of your car. You didn't notice the truck that had pulled into the house next door until a shriek sounded throughout the neighbourhood.

"You're back!" Someone squealed, the sound of a car door slamming followed soon after.

You looked over just in time to see a head full of dark curls barrelling in your direction. You brought the girl into your arms, hugging her tightly, "Sarah! Oh my god, you've gotten so big! Let me look at you."

Sarah pulled away and let you observe her, small giggles falling out of her mouth, "You look so much older! How was college? Did you date any boys? How long are you staying?"

Before you could answer the thousands of questions she hauled in your direction, your eyes fell onto her father, Joel Miller. He wore a bright smile, wearing his usual plain shirt matched with his regular jeans and was walking up to you with his arms held out wide. He muttered your name as he brought you into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Hi." You laugh, "It feels like I haven't seen you two for decades."

"Feels like it." Joel agrees, pulling away gently. "How was college? Everyone treat you nicely? How long you plan on staying?"

Your hair blows softly with the breeze, a shiver running down your spine despite the weather being warm. "College was good, people were boring, and I don't know. I'm here with dad for the summer but I'm thinking I want to stay here."

Sarah smiled widely, "That would be so cool! We could hang out every day. Where are you going? Can I come with you?"

"Give her a break, Sarah." Joel joked, shaking his head gently.

You smile at them, "Just heading off to get some paint... Whole damn room is pink, looks like yours, Sarah." You cringe, "I could use some help deciding on a colour."

Sarah looked at her father who look at you, "Come along in my truck, I'll drive ya there, help you out with the paintin' if you want."

"That would be really nice, thank you Joel." You let Sarah drag you away from your car and towards her father's trunk, hesitantly letting you sit in the front while she stayed in the back.

Joel drove you to the nearest warehouse, windows down and music blasting per Sarah's request. You happily sang along with her, relishing in the warmth and happiness you had missed for so long. You caught Joel's eye every now and then, each time a small smile settling on both of your faces.

You thought back to college, all the times your friends would tease you whenever they saw a picture of Joel, laughing at the blush that appeared on your cheeks. You had messed up by telling them you used to have a silly crush on him when you were younger- they never let it go. Before you left them, they had mentioned how older you were, how you could have a chance if you tried. You had hit them, laughing, telling them you didn't think of him like that anymore.

Now, as you watched him and Sarah sing along to one of their favourite songs, you felt the familiar, childish feeling you had felt years before. Your mouth quirked into a smile as you leant your head back, closing your eyes as you listened to the god-awful singing by your ear.

By the time you were out of the car and entering the shop, you were exhausted. You never got along with the Texan weather, and it made you grumpier than necessary.

"It's so hot." Sarah groaned, grabbing your hand as the three of you walked to the paint section.

Joel nodded, "You two can get in the pool when we get home, I'll work on painting."

You turn to Joel, eyebrows furrowed, "No way, you're not painting my room alone. You help me paint, I'll make us a nice fruit platter, and we can eat it by the pool as we melt away. Sound good, Sarah?"

"I think it sounds good." She shrugged, taking her hand away from yours so she could wipe away the accumulated sweat. "Oh, look, here's the paint!"

You stood by her, "I guess I just want a warm white tone. Why are there so many, they all look the same?"

Joel reached over your shoulder, pointing to a section of cans, "Those are all warm whites, they'll lean into a beige colour. Or you can do a cool white which will lean into a grey colour."

You swallowed thickly, grabbing a nicely coloured can of paint, "I like this one. Should I get one or two cans? My room's roughly the same size as Sarah's if I remember correctly."

"Probably safer to get two. You got the materials for painting a room?" Joel asked, grabbing another can before taking the one from your hands.

You nod, "Yeah, I do, let's get outta here, I'm dying."

"You're so dramatic." Sarah smiled, walking along with you.

At the register Joel refused to let you pay, instead using his own money. You complained the whole way back to the car, insisting that you pay him the money you owed, but he just shook his head and talked over you. As he pulled out of the parking lot, you slipped the money into his wallet.

The drive back was torturous. It was high noon, the hottest time of the day, the windows were cranked open, desperate for the relief the wind would provide. Sarah was reading a magazine in the back, humming to herself, you and Joel sat comfortably next to each other.

"You look good." He said, glancing over at you, "Keep forgettin' you're not a kid no more."

You smile, "I haven't been a kid for a while. Man, I missed this place. Missed you two. Kept thinking of all those barbeques we'd have. You two, me and my dad."

Joel nodded, "Yeah, us too. Sarah was ecstatic whenever you'd message, should've heard her scream when we pulled down the street and saw you... Damn near made me deaf."

"Can you blame me?" Sarah interrupted, "You still haven't told me about any boyfriends by the way."

You scoff, "Oh my god. There isn't much to say at all. College boys are dumb, Sarah. Promise you'll never date one."

Joel nodded his head, peering at Sarah through the rear-view mirror as she laughed, "Promise I won't."

A few minutes later, you were parked outside your house, Sarah springing out immediately as you followed, "Sarah, I have some old clothes that don't fit me anymore, you should look through and pick out what you might want."

Sarah nodded as you led them to the front of your house, Joel behind you two with the cans of paint. "Dad!" You called out, "I'm here with the Millers!"

As your father came out and started up a conversation with Joel, you and Sarah trudged upstairs into your bedroom. She immediately started going through the box of clothes as you began moving your furniture to the middle of the room, allowing a space for you and Joel to move around the outside. "I'll be right back." You told Sarah as you made your way downstairs to where your father and Joel were still talking.

"Joel agrees to the barbeque, kid. Just like old times, eh?" Your father announces, smiling widely. You think its the widest you'd ever seen him smile.

"That's cool, dad, looking forward to it." You turn to Joel, "I'm just gonna get the shit we need, I've moved everything to the centre of my room." Without another word, you're off to your shed, piling everything you need in your arms. You can see Joel from where you're standing, and you cannot deny how good he looks.

The text from your friend repeats over in your mind, you were older now, sure, but still twenty-years younger than him. Even if there was a chance, you knew that he'd never act on anything, he had too much respect for your father. If your friends were here, they'd tell you to act first, touch his arm longer than you should, wear clothes smaller than your usual size. You thought about it for a second, it seemed harmless enough.

"Kid!! You die of heatstroke out there, or something?" Your dad called out. You sighed defeatedly and made your way back inside, Joel seemingly had disappeared upstairs into your room. "You need more help?"

You shake your head, "Should be alright. Rest up." You hear him chuckle has you walk up the stairs and into your room. "Find anything good, Sarah?"

She looked up at you and nodded, "I like everything here."

"Take it all." You shrug, placing everything in your hands onto your bed.

Joel picked up the box and gently handed it to her, "Go put it away, relax under the air conditioning, okay? We'll be finished with this soon."

Sarah took the box and nodded, "Okay, thank you for the clothes!" She called behind her as she left the room. It was just you and Joel now. He was taking the lids of the cans and preparing the brushes.

"You're okay with wearin' that? Might get paint on yourself." He muttered, peering up at you from where he was kneeled on the floor.

You stayed quiet for a second, looking at your phone and thinking about what your friends would say. "I have a singlet on, I don't mind that getting dirty." You said. You caught the way Joel's eyes stayed on you as you peeled your shirt away from your body. Your singlet was tight against you, and you found yourself thanking the lord you had worn a nice looking bra.

Joel swallowed thickly, "Alright, I'll get started on this half. You're all good with that half?

You nod, "Of course. Thank you for this, I really appreciate it."

He nods, "S' alright."

You both worked on different sides of the room, painting over the smooth shade of pink with a mature, warm shade of white. You hadn't made much of a mess surprisingly and found yourself enjoying the task. The fit of butterflies never ceased in your stomach, Joel would ask questions every now and then, reminding you of his presence.

"How's my dad been?" You ask, looking over your shoulder.

Joel looked at you, sighing gently, "He's doin' okay. Not drinking as heavily as he used to, which is good. Sarah's tried getting him on datin' apps."

Your laugh echoes through your room, "Can't imagine he was too keen on that one. I felt bad, leaving him here alone."

"He missed you; we all did. But we were excited for you. College is fun." He said, running a brush delicately across my windowsill.

You smiled, "It was certainly interesting. I like it better here, though."

"No boys give you any trouble?" Joel asked. You glanced over at him; his back was facing you.

"Not really." You shrug, thinking back on the limited exchanges you had with the boys on your campus.

He turned to face you, brushing his hands on his jeans "Well... I'm done on this side, let's see the mess you've made over here."

"Shut up." You laugh, continuing to paint stripes of colour on the wall.

Suddenly, you felt his body behind you, his arm reaching out over your shoulder to grab your hand which gripped the brush tightly, "Like this." He muttered, moving your hand with his. You held your breath, watching the veins in his hand tense with every move he made. The ding of your phone made you blink. "Go ahead, I got this." Joel nodded, guiding your body away from the wall.

You walked to your bed, watching as he took your place, expertly painting the last bit of the wall. You snapped your gaze down to the text, holding back a smile.

'Girl, you're killing me, what's going on? Have you teased him a bit? Shown him how grown you are now? Make me proudddd.'

You bit your lip as you silenced your phone, holing it up to take a picture of Joel painting. You looked at the picture before you sent it, your eyes taking in the sight of his muscles visible against his shirt. You sent it without saying anything, and the response was instant.

'Oh my god, you got him painting your room? That's so hot. What're you wearing?'

You glance up at Joel to make sure he was still busy before you took a picture of yourself, showing your friend the singlet and denim shorts you were wearing. As you sent the picture, Joel glanced at you, "Watcha doin'?"

"My friend wanted to see what I was wearing, just sent her a picture." You replied, gripping your phone tightly in your hands. It dinged.

Joel chuckled, "What does she think?"

You look at your phone.

'I am so proud. You look amazing. Bet he's trying his hardest not to look at you ;).'

"She said she likes it." You smile, throwing your phone on the bed.

Joel nodded, looking down your body before looking at his shoes, "Well, I'm done here. You'll probably have to sleep in another room tonight, don't want you inhaling the fumes."

You sigh, "Yes, that's logical. Thank you again. It looks great. I guess I'll see you for dinner, I will be jumping in your pool."

He smiled, "Yeah, yeah. S' alright, Sarah will want too as well. " He started heading to your door when he suddenly turned, reaching into his pocket, and taking out some money, "Don't think I didn't notice you slippin' this in here."

He put the money in your hands, turning his back and walking to your door again, "See ya soon."

You watched his back as he left, sighing to yourself. You placed the money onto your dresser and quickly grabbed your phone, sending one text to your friend.

'He's amazing.'

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Author's Note: I promise you this will get dirtyyyyy, I just wanted this chapter to set the scene! Next chapter will be dinner and pool time with the Millers! Where do you think reader will sleep?

#joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou

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froggywritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Nail Polish | Lams

Pairings: Alexander x John

Warnings: fluff, Gay Panic™, swearing

Time: modern

A/N: i need someone to paint my nails

Alexander's loud sighs were barely audible over the music playing through his headphones. He couldn't get the stupid nail polish on his right hand, and sighing was the only thing he could do about it.

'Stupid hands,' he thought, glaring at the black, sticky, mess around his finger nails, 'why can't people be left and right handed? Why do we only have one working hand? That's bullshit.'

He was meant to be studying, but one thing led to another, and attempting to paint his nails while listening to showtunes seemed like way more fun than stressing over the upcoming maths test.

For once, studying seemed like the easier task.

He didn't even notice his bedroom door open, letting someone walk inside and yoink the headphones off his head, "How's the studying going?"

Alex let out a yelp, whipping his head around to see John Laurens standing behind him, "What the fuck John? Wh-what are you doing here? How did you even get here?"

John shrugged, pursing his lips, "I wanted to talk to you, but your phone was on 'do not disturb' like it always is," he explained, rolling his eyes as he brought a chair beside Alex and sat down, "so I called Laf, and he told me I could come over and that you were just studying." he said, looking at the open nail polish and Alex's messily painted nails, "I see the studying is going well."

"Shut up, I was studying before. I just got bored." Alex mumbled.

"Sure..."

"What are you doing here?" Alex asked, attempting to hide the blush on his face at the possible answer he would get.

John shrugged, his gaze falling to his own fidgeting hands, "I dunno," he mumbled, "I mi- I was just bored and wanted to hang out with you."

"Oh," Alex muttered, his shoulders slumping in disappointment.

"But, I'm glad I did come, because I need to fix this mess," John added, a smile playing on his lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Your nails." he said simply, moving Alex's hand on the desk, and grabbing the nail polish, "Don't try and do your other hand by yourself, it's way too messy. You need someone else."

Alex's cheeks turned a bright shade of pink at the contact, before he stammered out, "John, y-you don't have to paint my nails. Thi-this was stupid of me anyway."

John pressed his lips into a thin line as he shook his head, "Sorry Alex, but once you've shown me the nail polish, and the mess you've made of nail polish, legally, by law, I have to help you."

Alex stared at John with a blank face, "'Legally by law' is it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Right." Alex sighed, nodding his head, "You can paint my nails if you really want."

John's smile broadened from ear to ear as he unscrewed the lid off the nail polish, and began painting Alex's nails.

While John was fixing up the mess Alex made, Alex was blushing insanely as John's hands softly rested against his. He had to remind himself over and over again: 'He's just a friend. You don't like him that way and neither does he. Snap out of it.'

"You ok, Alex?" John questioned, staring at Alexander who's eyes were looking everywhere but at John. Alex only hummed in response, taking his other hand to his face in an attempt to hide his blush, which didn't go as planned as John set the nail polish down and grabbed Alex's other hand, bringing it away from his face, letting John see his pink cheeks, “Alex, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Can I kiss you?”

‘That’s not ‘snapping out of it’!’

As soon as the words left Alex’s mouth, he slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes widening in embarrassment.

“I-I’m so sorry-”

Before Alex could even begin to explain, John cupped his hands around Alex’s face, smashing his lips against his.

John pulled away, smiling at Alex’s flustered face, “If you apologise, I’m gonna ruin your nail polish even more.”

“I mean, if that’s what it takes to get you to hold my hand…"

buy me a coffee <3

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calethelettuce · 8 months

Text

Thank You For The Music (Sanders Sides Fic)

This is actually a songfic (Thank You For The Music by ABBA) and is part of a Human AU in development :3 Let me know how it is and send me a request if you want a certain fic!

Summary: Everyone knows Roman is a singer. Virgil had decided to come over for a few hours, and the two spend time on a certain piece they'd been working on. Virgil wonders, while Roman reminisces.

Relationships: Platonic/Familial Royality, father/son dynamic Royality, best friends Prinxiety

Characters: Roman, Virgil, mentioned Logan and Patton

Genre: Fluff, minor hurt/comfort(??)

Warnings: Swearing

"I'm nothing special,

In fact, I'm a bit of a bore.."

Virgil strummed his acoustic guitar, leaning into Roman's side. He didn't expect to be bringing his hand-made, hand painted guitar over to someone's house, especially after the gruelling after-school practices the pair had just finished. It's not like he was complaining, he would take any time he could get.

Roman sang soft, his pitch perfect and his tone as smooth as butter. He closed his eyes, resting his head on Virgil's shoulder as he breathed evenly.

"If I tell a joke,

you've probably hear it before."

It wasn't often he got to duet anything with Virgil, as the purple-clad teen was always so busy with other things.

It was moments like these that made Roman cherish their friendship. Sure, he had other friends, although nobody could compare to that of Virgil Storme, your average emo teen with a favorite hoodie.

"But I have a talent, a wonderful thing"

Cause everyone listens when I start to sing!"

Roman was a good singer, and anybody who tried to tell Virgil otherwise would have a nice time laying dead on the floor. He was almost jealous of his voice, although he never cared enough to try and work on his own (even though Roman had offered to teach him, it just wasn't his thing.).

"I'm so grateful and proud,

all I want is to sing it out loud!"

Well, you know what he always said. Fuck it, we ball!

"So I say,

Thank you for the music,

The songs I'm singing."

Virgil joined in, to Roman's surprise. His voice was much rougher than his own, although the teen was never into singing much. Their voices blended together almost seamlessly, Virgil's deeper tones mixing with Roman's lighter ones like they were already together.

"Thanks for all the joy they're bringing!"

Who can live without it?

I ask in all honesty.."

Roman looked up at his best friend, who had a familiar glint in his eye. Their eyes met as they kept singing in perfect unison.

"What would life be?

Without a song or a dance,

what are we?"

Their smiles lit up the dimly light bedroom.

"So, I say,

Thank you for the music!

For giving it to me.."

The room went quiet as Virgil strummed the final chord.

Roman let out a happy squeal before slapping a hand over his mouth out of embarrassment. Virgil snickered, putting his guitar down gently beside them. "Good job, Princey," he complimented, shoving his hands back into his pockets, offering a tiny smile.

Roman liked seeing his friend smile. "To you as well, JD-lightful! I heard you join in at the end there."

Virgil's face reddened as he rolled his eyes. "I did not!" He knew he totally did.

Roman smirked playfully, nudging him on the arm. "You so did!" he teased, laughing a little, "I swear, you need lessons! There's so much talent in there somewhere!" there was a hopeful look on his face.

Virgil shrugged. "Well, I'm sure wherever you learned to sing is probably too expensive for me to do.." he trailed off, biting his lip. Roman's family was certainly richer than his, he knew, although it wasn't a topic of conversation used often.

Roman's face softened as he brushed his bangs out of his face. "Oh, Virge, I didn't go anywhere to learn!" He gestured to the door. "I stayed here."

Virgil's brow furrowed. "What now? How'd you learn without lessons?"

His friend's smile came back, even bigger than before. "Wanna know a secret?"

"...Sure?" Virgil wasn't sure what he was getting at.

Roman clapped his hands together. "My parents were singers!" he proclaimed, gesturing wildly around to nothing in particular, "They taught me!"

Virgil's mouth hung open in shock. "Are you being legit right now?"

Patton and Logan Sanders were singers once? He could see it for Patton, but Logan? That's a surprise.

"Of course! Dad's a tenor, like me, and Papa is a baritone!"

Virgil nodded slowly. "Okay.. so what does that mean?" he felt dumb for asking.

Roman sighed dramatically. "Oh, you poor thing! Let me explain!"

As Roman talked, Virgil couldn't help but let his gaze wander around the room. Theatre posters (probably from all the trips he took to Broadway) were scattered around the room, although one particular area caught his eye. Those photos certainly weren't posters, but he couldn't help but try to make out every detail.

An average sized cork board was tacked to the wall, littered with photos, artworks and playbills.

There were photos of Virgil on that board.

They were underneath the section that read 'FamILY!'. There was a completely different section for his other friends..

Roman must have noticed him staring, as the red jacketed teenager paused mid-sentence. "Virge? You okay over there, bud?"

Virgil didn't respond verbally, but simply pointed to the cork board with a confused expression.

Roman's face reddened. "OH, that! You see, that's a new addition, I got it for my birthday!" he averted locking eyes with his friend. "I can remove them, if you want."

"..you don't need to do that," he mumbled, tapping a finger on his forearm. "I was curious. Why am I-?"

"Because you're like family!" Roman blurted out loudly, his eyes darting around the room. "You're like the brother I never had!"

Virgil took a moment to take that in.

Did he really mean that much to Roman?

Virgil let out a little huff, letting a soft smile take over his lips. "Well, shit, Roman, I guess I'm not the only one who thinks that." he squeezed his shoulder lightly. "I think we'd make pretty cool brothers."

Roman nearly tackled the purple-clad teen in a hug, knocking both of them down completely to the floor. Virgil shrieked, not expecting the sudden movement, but calmed down when he saw how happy Roman looked.

"You're the coolest," Roman mumbled into Virgil's shoulder, "I wish we could hang out more."

Virgil let out an affectionate snicker. "Well, maybe when I try to get those lessons we can hang out more, huh?"

Roman gasped. "Are you thinking about it?!" He withdrew from Virgil, hopping up to his feet. "Come on, we should go ask!"

He sure gets excited easily, huh? Virgil got up slower, brushing off his sweatpants like there was dirt on them. "Hold up, wait-"

Roman was already out the door, yelling for one of his dads. "DAAAD! I need you!!"

Well, fuck.

DO I ADD MORE TO THIS LATER SKJHSG I WROTE THIS IN SCHOOL BUT I LOST MOTIVATION

#sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #ts patton #ts logan #ts sides #tss virgil #royality #platonic royality #sanders side fic #sanders sides au #platonic prinxiety #prinxiety #im writing this in school lolol #i need help

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in-my-feels-probably · 1 year

Note

Congrats on your 600 followers, your writing is amazing, i loved the rhaenyra x shapshiter reader especially. Mind if i request a match up from game of thrones(romantic)?

I'm a lesbian with she/they pronouns, I'm INTP 5w6 aquarius. I am 5'4 with very long black hair and dark brown eyes, I'm a bit of a tomboy but i don't mind wearing feminine stuff often. I like wearing darker clothes but i also like wearing soft colors like light blue or pink even. I also have black nails and black stud earrings.

I'm a very timid and quiet person. I have social-anxiety and i rarely talk to anyone unless it's my close friend or family. Some people might think I'm mute because I'm so silent. Besides that I'm pretty level-headed, kind, friendly and like to help if i can. Though at times I might hurt someone feelings since I'm brutally honest, I apologize after. I'm also the type of person to go with the flow because i want to take things easily and not make a big deal out of it, I'm a neutral person when hearing people's opinions unless it's questionable. I'm kinda slow to process some jokes and i zone out a lot since I like to be on my mind and because my sleep schedule is messed up. I like listening to my friends talk!! I hate to see my friends hurt or upset and try my hardest to comfort them. I cheer them up by doing things for them or taking care of them (my love languages are quality time and acts of service)

Interests: Reading, Horror Books, listening Music (classical and metal), sleeping, I'm a fan of oolong tea and passion tea, I like relaxing in quiet places while listening to music or reading, I like well-clean things and spicy food.

I don't really like trouble and like to stay out of it. I dislike loud people or insensitive people. I also don't like crowds and prefer to be alone. I get nervous when i meet people i don't know and pushes myself to a corner hoping they won't see me, I hate being disturbed when I'm relaxing or when i'm tired then I might come off grumpy, I hate being made fun of even if it may sound like a harmless joke, i get moody after, I really hate when things are out of place or unclean. Oh yeah i don't like cake too 😭

Hobbies: I really like reading books, especially mystery or horror(maybe even romance). I'm also good at painting/drawing but i get fustrated because I get artblock. Other times i like making things out of paper like flowers, birds, etc.

Other info: I have an uncontrollable strength, I don't work out it's just that when I pinch people payfully slightly they say it hurts really bad 💀

I think that's it, have a good new year and a good day ♡ 👧

hi! thank you for participating :)

i ship you with sansa!

especially in the later seasons, she became a lot more reserved. i think she’d need someone calm and on the quiet side, someone to keep her company. i think she’d be afraid to get involved with anyone, especially after all that happened to her. but i think she’d be drawn to you. you’d remind her of home, and quiet peaceful evenings she had as a child, maybe with her father. it would be one of the things she missed most, even when she returned to winterfell, and you’d be a small piece of the life she used to have. you’d be an instant comfort. you being quieter, she’d have to be the one to approach you first. you’d intrigue her, and she’d find herself doing things to spend time with you. you’d warm up to each other fast. you’d be an excuse for her to get away from her responsibilities so she could be with you. you’d know how to comfort her when she needed it, and she’d feel comfortable talking to you about anything she needed to get off her chest. she just wants to be in the north with her people, separate from the rest of the world. she’d be content to do that with you, it would be so easy. she’d love talking to you, telling you stories or explaining how her day went, appreciating that you were actually listening.

she had to grow up so fast, she’d be such a different person compared to the girl she was before she left winterfell the first time. you’d understand that, and she’d know that it didn’t bother you. shed have a much sharper tongue, able to stand up for you or correct a situation if she needed to. she’d seek you out during the day, wanting to sit with you while you read or did your art. she’s quite the artist too, making her own clothes. you could sit together and work on your projects, either helping each other with them, or just being content enough to work in peace next to each other.

maybe one day, she’d be sitting with you, telling you about home. somehow, you’d get to the topic of sweets.

“lemon cakes are my favorite. i miss the way the cooks made them when i was young.”

you’d pretend to like cake, and she’d be absolutely appalled once she found out you don’t actually like it.

“what? how can you not like lemon cakes? that is absurd, we have to make them now.”

you’d spend a day in the kitchens, making her laugh and smile. she wouldn’t even care that you’d scrunch your nose up at the taste when they were finished, just happy that she got to spend the day with you.

“i may not like cake,” you’d say, resting your hand on her arm. “but i do like your dress. you’ll have to show me how you made it one day.”

she’d smile, happily agreeing to.

#game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark imagine #hotd #ships #sansa stark x you #600 followers celebration #600 followers #followers celebration

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on.

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish.

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands).

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding.

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.”

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all.

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t.

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world.

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about.

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease.

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do.

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind.

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.”

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused.

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop.

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening.

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Note

the “we’re fake dating to make someone jealous but actually end up together trope” reminds me of drrreeeaaaammmm😇😇😇

-🧚🏻‍♀️

YES YES 🧚 ANON I LOVE UR IDEAS YES.

I also included these: WELCOME 🦀 ANON and as always, 🍭 anon I'm in love w u.

[𝐁𝐎𝐘]𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)

pairing: dream x reader (dre™ my beloved)

warnings: vulgar language, mentions of sex, basically that one scene from Easy A, me lowkey trying so hard not to get carried away

You took a sip of your drink; your mind racing with Clay’s words as you debated his plea. You hated the idea of pitting yourself against someone else for an envy factor and meddling in the love lives of your friends, but you knew you’d do anything for Clay. He could mention needing to kill a president and without a word, you’d be by his side. It had always been that way, so why were you so shaken by his request. Then again, you had brought it upon yourself.

“See that girl over there?” Clay asked, barely nodding toward the kitchen as he slumped down to your height so you could hear him over the pulsing music. The smell of the cologne your cousin bought him one Christmas in the hopes that he’d ask her to marry him wafted towards you. You had noticed how he had attempted to clean himself up when the two of you met at the bus stop before traveling to this shindig, but you had brushed it off, knowing it was probably for some girl’s attention.

You peered over his shoulder, seeing the kitchen packed with females. You shrugged slightly. “Yeah, which one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not obvious,” he mumbled sarcastically after realizing what you were talking about. His hand moved to hold your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he angled your head towards one of the various women.

She looked up at the right moment, making eye contact with you and you pulled out of Clay’s grip, already knowing how idiotic the two of you looked staring at her as he blatantly was pointing her out to you. “Oh my god, she saw,” you whispered quickly and he drew in a sharp breath, the two of you freezing as if something were going to happen.

When she didn’t approach the pair of you, you went on like it hadn’t happened, Clay beginning to tell you about why he mentioned her. “We hooked up after calculus a few times,” he smugly boasted.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why are you still in calculus? Aren’t you a jun-”

“That’s beside the point,” he added, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t texted me back lately.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, peering back over in her direction. It always shook Clay up when a girl didn’t vie for his attention. He was attractive and popular on campus, but there were always a few that would slip through his fingers. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

You wet your lips, exhaling as you thought. “Maybe it’s because you’re too available?” You spoke, thinking out loud and more to yourself than him. He tilted his head as if urging you to continue. You took a sip of your drink, also wondering what you’d meant. “Just start fooling around with another girl and she’ll come running,” you offered.

He nodded along as you spoke, leaning a hand against the wall behind you. “Wanna fool around with me?” He jested, making you snort.

“Oh come on now,” you broke, dropping your head back against the wall, nearly missing his thumb.

He sent you a cheeky expression. “No, you come on now. You suggested it!”

You lightly punched his chest as if to get him to hear you instead of just listen to you. “I didn’t mean me, idiot! Don’t you have like fifteen other people in your phone?”

His shoulders slumped. “Please! I’ve seen you charm the pants off Karl and Sapnap at the same time,” he begged. He straightened up as if he was about to reluctantly agree to something. “I’ll paint your kitchen like you’ve been asking,” he mumbled.

And that’s how you found yourself leaning against Clay’s side as the two of you talked to a group of his friends. His arm curled around your waist, fingers gliding beneath the hem of your shirt to settle against the skin of your hip. You willed yourself to think of something other than his fingers pressed against you, fighting every urge to blush at the contact.

The song switched to a stereotypical dance song and people began to move. You downed the rest of your drink to psych yourself up before eyeing the girl momentarily and standing on your toes to reach Clay’s ear. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder as you told him to dance with you, knowing she was watching the two of you with searing eyes.

You knew he was fighting to see her expression, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled him towards the mass of people by his belt loop. “This is going to be super cringey before the both of us, just pretend you like it,” you bit as you pressed your back to him.

His hands dropped to your waist, moving with you to the beat. “Maybe I will enjoy myself. Don’t be so bossy,” he chided, voice raspy and warm in your ear from talking over the music for most of the night. He was a loud guy, but he always seemed to lose his voice after a party.

You turned in his arms, his body close to yours. “Don’t get too excited,” you jested, pressing a hand to his abdomen as you kept up with him, letting him drop his head beside yours.

“Oh, bet. I’ll get so drunk and mistake you for someone else,” he mocked, his voice a welcome break as it penetrated through the heavy bass of the song.

You scoffed. “Like who? Your cousin?” You teased, making him bite back a laugh as he bit his lip. You felt a laser gaze digging into your back as his hands moved you pull your waist against him. Your hand moved to pull his face to the crook of your neck. You could see her at the new angle; glaring at you over her cup. You felt guilt twist in the pit of your stomach. You’d been at it for a few hours and you were ready to amp it up before she left without him.

“Dream, take me upstairs,” you mumbled into his ear. He pulled away from you, brows threatening to furrow at your words. “Trust me,” you gritted, slipping your hand into his and making it apparent you were looking for a room with him in tow. He was quiet as you lead the way. From where you were walking, you saw her move to inch towards the steps as if she was investigating what you were doing with him. You knew it was in bad taste to set anyone up for jealousy but Clay was your friend, and you really needed your kitchen painted.

You found an empty room, tugging him inside and locking the door. He looked at you with a red tinge to his cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment as if he’d been thinking about what the two of you would be doing in the room, or if it was just from the alcohol. “What now?” He asked.

You chuckled, grabbing his wrist. “Fuck me,” you stated, the words feeling weird with him on the receiving end. His eyes went wide and he awkwardly moved his hands as if he were going to touch you. You rolled your eyes, swatting away his hands before grabbing his wrist and pulling him up to stand on the bed with you after you kicked off your shoes.

You started jumping on the bed, but he just looked at you with a confused expression, making you gesture for him to copy you. He was always like that; you telling him to do something and without actually questioning, he’d go along with you.

You could hear talking outside the door and something clicked in your head. “Oh, that feels so good, Clay. Don’t stop,” you falsely moaned, glaring at him as he struggled not to laugh, the two of you jumping almost in sync as the mattress squeaked beneath your weight.

You motioned for him to add and he looked up to the ceiling, attempting to recover from everything that was happening. “You like that? Slut,” he matched your tone, making you roll your eyes and cover your mouth to hide your laugh at the degradation.

You moaned again, and he giggled quietly, moaning with you. The two of you had begun to loosen up, even timing your jumps so you could double jump and throw Clay off balance. If someone had told you a week prior that you’d be jumping on a nameless person’s bed with your best friend, pretending he was nailing you into tomorrow, you would have laughed. But it probably wouldn’t have surprised you.

The two of you slowed down, winded from the unnecessary exercise. You shrugged slightly, mimicking what you would sound like during an orgasm. It came out weak and Clay looked at you like you’d stabbed him in the chest. He mouthed, “Come on.” You rolled your eyes, wondering how you had found yourself in that position before moaning again, this time a bit too accurately.

You covered your mouth and Clay’s ears turned red as he laughed slightly. You’d been roommates with a friend of his in the past and it nearly dawned on you that he might have heard the sound from you before. You brushed the thought from your mind before it could completely sink in as you got off the bed. He plopped down on the edge of the mattress, catching his breath as you straightened your clothing, tugging your shoes back on. There was something hanging in the air between the two of you now, but you had quickly decided that you’d rather not address it.

After that night, you weren’t really sure how it had gone between Clay and the girl. You wanted to ask him about it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to after you noticed the two leaving together. You had done your job, maybe a bit too well.

In fact, the two of you had been avoiding each other since then. It wasn’t until a week later that you were finally in the same room with him at a birthday party for a mutual friend of yours. The two of you glanced at each other awkwardly before you stood beside him, nudging his arm with your own.

“So, how’d it go with that one girl?” You asked, glancing up at him, your eyes then settling on the group spread around the room talking amongst themselves.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yeah I ended up just driving her home,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I just… I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I don’t know…”

You nodded at his statement, deciding that it was ridiculous for you to feel so weird around him for nothing. You knew it was all in your head and he wouldn’t be walking around on eggshells if you weren’t making him. This was Clay, after all. “All that work and for what?” You joked.

He sent you a smile, his shoulders relaxing. “I mean, come on. You had to have enjoyed that-”

You cut him off. “Oh yeah, grinding on you was literally the greatest time of my life,” you quipped sarcastically.

He grinned smugly. “I mean, it was the greatest time of my life to hear you moaning my name.”

You scoffed. “Hope you recorded it,” you mumbled, making him nod in agreement. You rolled your eyes playfully as everyone moved to gather around each other. Seats quickly filled up and Clay sent you a sly grin, patting his lap.

Just to prove a point, you took his offer, making him tense up as if he wasn’t expecting you to. He sat up a bit straighter to even the two of you out, making you shift on his lap. You moved again, setting your drink on one of the nearby tables and he groaned. You froze, hoping no one had noticed his hand press into your hip.

His lips were beside your ear; breath warm and inviting. “Stop moving,” he bit, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. “Why? Can’t control yourself?” You jeered, making his grip tighten on you.

“Don’t tease,” he nipped, making you smile wider. You moved again, this time pulling your knee to your chest and leaning back against him. With the new movement, you could feel him harden beneath you, and for some reason, you were into it. Your escapades in the bedroom had given you a series of oddly sexual dreams about Clay. Maybe this was your chance to relieve what tension had been built between the two of you.

His other arm moved to wrap around your knee, cementing you in place. “Cut it out,” he hissed, making your eyes settle on his. You could tell by the lust-blown look in his eyes that he was already thinking about you too.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You quizzed, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes danced back and forth between yours, searching your face for a hint of joking.

You could feel his heart skip a beat. “Really?” He asked, waiting for you to redact your words. You nodded. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as your mom and the pool boy,” you joked, instantly lightening the mood as he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and digging his face into the crook of your neck and making you laugh. You got off his lap, moving towards the birthday boy and saying your goodbyes with the claim that you had an upset stomach so Clay was driving you home.

When the two of you finally got out of the apartment building, Clay turned to you. He spoke with a clear tone now, “This is real,” his words coming out as a question in and of itself. “You’re not fucking with me?”

You sighed, shaking your head before grabbing onto his jacket and pressing your lips against his, your body flush against him as his hands hesitantly wrapped around you. Your kiss quickly became hungry and passionate. You’d never kissed him before; usually opting to live vicariously through your friends. As your hands carded into his hair, his fingers fisted in your clothing, almost as if you would float away from him.

Clay broke away almost breathlessly, his lips moving to press against your neck. “I want you,” he groaned, making you moan in response. As he pulled you towards his car, you knew the two of you would finally be relieving some long-time festering tension.

#🦀 anon #🍭 anon #🧚🏻‍♀️ anon #dream x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fluff #dream imagine

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toomanyrobins2 · 3 years

Text

Those Four Words Pt. 1

Summary: an escalating fight between Jason and his girlfriend leads to a tense two weeks in Wayne Manor

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex and excessive drinking, mentions of character death

masterlist // next part

Jason Todd was in a terrible mood, having just got into an argument with Bruce. He decided to go up to his girlfriend’s studio to get away. She had been hard at work the past couple of days and he was getting needy. He came up behind her on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle out of his arms. “Jay, I'm trying to do something right now.

He tried to snuggle closer to his girlfriend, “I deserve some of your time too.

“Deserve? You’re especially demanding today. What did you do?” Jason scoffed and pulled away. “What has crawled up your ass?”

“You did.”

She managed to escape and turned to look at her boyfriend, “I did? Huh, I think I would’ve remembered such a disgusting journey into your body.

“Dammit, Y/N! Enough with the sarcasm! You know what I’m saying.”

She sighed at Jason’s attitude, “I don’t understand what you’re doing right now, but you are starting a fight just for the sake of an argument. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Jason was standing over his girlfriend, his whole body tense, “From any of you.”

“Why are you being like this? What happened?”

“What? You thought the minute we started dating all of our problems would magically disappear? Are you really that naive?”

Y/N put her brushes down and stood. She tried to walk closer, but he matched each step, moving away from her. “Jason, where the hell is this coming from? I thought we had got past this. Even you and Bruce are in a better place.”

“You think I'll ever forget you abandoned me. You all did!”

“Abandon you! What have you been smoking? We thought you died!”

“You replaced me!”

Now, Y/N was angry too and it was rare that anyone saw her this way. She was deadly calm, but the fire was roaring in her eyes, “I did not replace you.”

“That’s right, you were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham to even think about me.”

“That is not fair and you know it. I mourned you. We all mourned your arrogant ass. I never stopped missing you.”

“I saw the articles, Y/N! Don’t pretend you were mourning me. You were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham.”

Her mind went back to three years ago. Jason had died in an explosion set up by the Joker. She was sixteen and her best friend had died, and she hadn’t handled it well. What started as a way to get out of the house with friends, had led to this wild, secret life. Y/N had snuck out at night and used Bruce’s name to get into clubs. She drank anything she could get her hands on and had gone home with multiple men, trying to forget her pain. Once, Bruce had found out, her world had imploded. He sent her away and finally got her the help she should have received when her parents had passed. The only reason Y/N had moved back to the manor was that Jason had been found. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to use her moments of weakness against her, “How dare you throw that back on me. I was just trying to numb the pain. It wasn’t like I was celebrating the fact that you were gone.”

“Yeah, it really looked like you missed me.”

“God Dammit, Jay!” she stamped her foot, knowing it was childish, “If you would just listen to me!”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N! If I had known I was ever going to be stuck with you and your nagging, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“I wish you hadn’t!” The minute the words left Y/N’s mouth, she gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Jason’s emotionless mask slammed into place, and suddenly he was as blank as the day Bruce had found him. He turned to walk out and Y/N chased after him, “Jay, wait! I’m sorry!” He jumped onto his motorcycle and was out the door before she could stop him. She slammed her fist into the wall and cursed in frustration and pain. No one would see either of them for the rest of the day. Y/N stayed in her studio, wondering how they got to the point of shouting such hurtful things at each other.

The next day, they had both shown up for Friday night dinner, as was expected of them. Neither spoke, and the tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. Y/N had tried to pull him aside and apologize after dinner, but he had shot her with a cutting glare and stalked away. The other could tell that something had happened, but no one had the details. Tim wandered into the library after patrol that night, to find her in a chair tucked into the corner. “What are you doing here (Y/N/N)? Isn’t it a movie night with Todd?” He noted the tear tracks down her face but knew she hated showing weakness, so he said nothing about them.

“I wasn’t feeling up to it, so I canceled. I think I’ll head to bed now. Night, Timmy.” Y/N went to her room and cried herself to sleep, the guilt overwhelming her as she played the argument over in her head. If only she had just taken a break, maybe the whole situation could have been avoided. She woke up multiple times in the night, crying out Jason’s name after seeing him and the Joker over and over again. Finally, around 3 in the morning, she gave up on sleep and went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee. She decided to keep busy and started making breakfast for the family.

Alfred was the first to appear in the morning, as usual. Y/N tried to pretend that everything was normal, but nothing could be hidden from the family’s butler. He noted the dark circles under her eyes and the tremors in her hands from over-caffeination. The boys slowly started to emerge, and Alfred started to bring out all the food she had made. She made two plates out of habit and headed for the dining room. Y/N started to hand Jason his breakfast as she had every morning for a year, but suddenly she remembered and pulled her hand away. Jason didn’t even bother to look at her, and her heart clenched. She placed the plate on the table and walked back into the kitchen. “Sorry, Alfred, I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go paint.” She placed the plate she had made for herself on the counter and left.

Y/N’s studio had been a safe space since she had first moved into the manor. She had hidden away when she first arrived at Wayne Manor, unused to such an active family. Bruce had called workers to the manor and redid the room when she had told him she liked art. Now, after years of work, canvasses filled the room on all sides. Some paintings, others photos, she had accumulated in the three years. They hung on the walls and were laid across the floor. She flooded the room with Swan Lake, her sad music, and started to mix her colors. The music she played had become an easy way for the others to discern her moods since she hadn’t spoken to anyone except Fallon, Bruce’s wife, when she first came. Bruce and Dick had installed a speaker system in her studio to drown out the noise when she was overwhelmed, and everyone in the Manor could hear it if she turned it on loud enough. When the first notes hit their ears, all eyes in the dining room turned to Jason. He refused to look up and make eye contact, instead, he stared at the breakfast that had been abandoned on the table. Once everyone had averted their gaze, he pushed away from the table and disappeared.

This led to one of the most uncomfortable weeks in the Manor ever. Y/N barely left her studio and no one saw Jason for three days before he returned. When he did, he started to act as if nothing had happened. The music had eventually stopped playing altogether, so they had no idea what kind of mood she was in. Finally, Damian was the one to gather everyone else together, “Y/N/N has not come out of her studio in a week. Since Buckethead has just decided to pretend nothing has happened. We need to fix this.”

Bruce spoke up first, “Jason and Y/N are both adults. They are both being immature, and it will eventually work itself out.

“How can we fix this when we don’t even know what happened?” Tim looked up from his laptop, “I’ve been checking in on Y/N on the cameras. All she does is paint, and the most she’s slept in days is when she falls asleep accidentally. That never lasts long, and she cries. A lot.”

“Why did Fallon have to leave! We need to fix this, or the family vacation is going to be the worst!” Dick collapsed on the couch. Fallon had finally convinced Bruce that the family needed a vacation, but two weeks before they were supposed to leave, her sister had had a baby. She decided to go help her out and just meet them at the resort. They now had a week left, and it was not looking good. No one wanted to bother their mother since she very rarely took time for herself and was enjoying time with her family. They decided Alfred would be the one to try and convince Y/N to leave the studio at least and eat something.

He appeared in the doorway and watched silently as Y/N worked on a large canvas. He walked over and saw that it was a portrait of the family. “This is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her voice was hoarse from disuse.

“What is the plan for this one?” Alfred sat down next to her on the floor.

“Everyone hates photos, but Fallon wanted a family portrait for the sitting room. Since no one can sit still long enough I decided to paint one and give it to her for her birthday,” she slowly sucked in a breath, “Plus they only have the old one, and J--some people-- are missing from it.” Tears started to well up again in her eyes. Alfred wrapped an arm around Y/N and just sat with her for a moment.

“I’ve kicked the boys out of the kitchen. Do you think you could come down and eat something? For me?” She only nodded and they both stood. Y/N sat on a stool and silently ate the soup Alfred had laid out for her. She barely tasted anything, and she was starting to feel dizzy. Her vision started to blur, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on the floor and had five heads floating above her.

“Hi, guys. Thought the floor looked lonely.” She tried to sit up but was cut off.

“That is it,” Bruce spoke firmly, “You are going to bed, and you are sleeping. I thought you were mature enough to deal with this but I see I was wrong.” He picked Y/N up and noticed she had lost weight. He carried her up the stairs and before he had reached her bedroom, she was already asleep again. Bruce turned to the boys. “At least one of you is staying in here with her and making sure she sleeps.”

Tim volunteered for the first shift and settled into her desk with his laptop. Y/N had barely been asleep an hour before she woke up from a nightmare of Jason dying. She shot up and shouted out his name, before bursting into tears. Tim -- being the awkward person he is -- was ill-prepared to deal with the crying Y/N. The only solution he could think of was to climb into bed with her and pull up a movie. She slowly fell asleep again and clung to Tim like a starfish. When Dick came to relieve Tim and saw that he was unable to leave, he climbed into bed with the duo. Anytime Y/N would start to become distressed, they would calm her down. Eventually, Damian and Titus joined the cuddle pile, the former somewhat reluctantly, grumbling about how he was only doing this for Y/N. Little did the Bat-Family know, Alfred had called Fallon and told her about the situation and she had rushed home.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #tim drake imagine #dick grayson imagine #bruce wayne imagine #damian wayne imagine #batfamily #toomanyrobins #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

Text

Payback's a Murder

Word Count: 2k Description: Mammon may be the Avatar of Greed and may constantly try to con his brothers, but others who try to do the same will find themselves at the wrong end of his murder. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Finally got back to this, so here we go with Mammon's turn! Note: Mulciber is a demon mentioned in John Milton's Paradise Lost. He served under Mammon and was an architect. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: blood, body horror, torture via the sharp ends of birds

The Avatar of Greed often found himself in trouble, whether it be because he stole personal belongings to sell or tried to cheat someone out of cash or … well, there were a lot of ways. Call him reckless, but when he saw an opportunity to make some cold, hard Grimm, he wasn’t about to pass it up!

But if someone tried to cheat him out of something? That wouldn’t do. Few dared to try it if they knew just who they were dealing with, but that didn’t stop some from trying anyway. They always regretted it afterwards.

The real issue, however, was if someone tried to cheat his brothers out of something. After all, he was the only one allowed to rip them off (that was his justification, anyway). The moment he finds out someone else tried to play confidence demon with any of them, it was a one-way ticket to the Great Mammon’s Beatdown Extravaganza.

He was walking by Leviathan’s room earlier when he heard a loud crash, some swearing, and a slight rumble under his feet. After some door breaking, tackling, and forcing his hotheaded brother to not summon Lotan, he found out what had made him so upset. Apparently, there was some demon running around with elaborate schemes swindling others -- well, nerds -- out of their money. He went on to explain something that Mammon did not at all understand -- as was usual when he got into his otaku rambling. If his brother had not been so upset, Mammon would have commended the guy for knowing how to target and hit a jackpot.

After some additional pestering, Mammon managed to get a rough description of this third-rate demon and realized he had a pretty good idea of just who it was. It was someone far closer to him than he’d like to admit.

So now here he was, leaning against the bar at one of the Devildom’s many clubs, drink in hand as he monitors the floor. If he was right, he would see the other cozening demon somewhere here tonight, so now it was just a waiting game. As Lucifer had told him repeatedly, You have to show that you’re Number Two. He planned to make that very clear tonight.

He felt the pulse of the bass vibrating through his body as the DJ amped up their music, more and more demons flowing into the space as the prime clubbing hours arrived. A few who noticed Mammon acknowledged his presence, some whispering about how he seemed to look way more serious than normal. The Avatar of Greed, not partying the night away already? Strange.

His patience was just about to run out when he caught a glimpse of just the demon he was seeking out. Hair as orange as a flame, he wasn’t too hard to spot amongst the crowd of more muted succubi surrounding him. Mammon downed the rest of his drink in one go, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket as he made his way to his target.

“Mulciber. Already getting started, huh?”

“M-Mammon?!” He seemed startled to see the other, but cleared his throat as he regained his cool composure. “It’s good to see you, man! Why don’t you join us all for a drink?” The succubi around him giggled, one daring to lean towards Mammon in an attempt to latch onto his arm, but he quickly placed a hand up to stop her.

“No touchin’, sweetheart.” He shot her a look that made her immediately back away, a pout on her lips. “And that’s a nice offer, Mulcey, but I was hopin’ I could talk to ya real quick in private.”

Mulciber could tell that no was not an option in this conversation, given the serious look in the Avatar’s eyes. “Oh, uh, sure. Sorry ladies, I’ll be back soon. Gotta take care of business!” He gave them a wink as they continued on to the table for their party. Clearing his throat again, he turned back to his superior. “So, what’s shaking, boss?”

Mammon just gave him a smile before nodding his head towards a side door, motioning to accompany him there. The lesser demon complied, following him outside to a side alley. The night air was brisk, causing a shudder to run through Mulciber’s spine. At least, he hoped it was the weather that was making him feel like this …

“I heard ya got up to another scheme.” Mammon fiddled with a lighter, flipping the top off and on with his thumb and a jerk of his hand as he spoke. Click, click, click, click. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, totally!” Mulciber nervously replied, wondering why Mammon seemed so interested. Did he want a cut of the check? Fishing for ideas for his own next get-rich-quick scheme? Or --

Oh.

Oh no.

He suddenly remembered that one of the victims of his scheming had been the very Avatar of Envy. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, delighting in the fact that he was even able to rip off a Greater Demon. Meant his plan had to be pretty genius, right? But now … now he was starting to realize that he may have just made a big mistake.

“Hm? Ya haven’t said a word, Mulcey-boy.” Mammon turned to face him, tucking the lighter into his pocket. He took a step towards the other, who immediately took a step back -- only to be met with a hard brick wall. “Or didja have a moment of realization?”

“L-Listen, Mammon, I’m sorry! I didn’t know at the time, I swear!” Mulciber brought both his hands up, as if that would stop the other from approaching him.

“Oh? ‘Cuz your face says differently, buddy.” He bared his fangs, the usual gradient in his eyes now glowing a furious gold. There’s a malicious grin on his face as he takes a step back, and then he begins to … whistle?

Mulciber does not like where this is going. He’s heard that tune before and it makes his hairs stand on end. “Look, man, please, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it up to you!” There’s already desperation in his voice, which almost makes Mammon laugh.

“Glad to hear it. Then ya won’t have a problem with what’s about to happen next, yeah?”

It starts in the distance, a noise that made it feel as if your eardrums were being pierced by a thousand shards of glass. It grows louder and louder, closer and closer. An omen.

Mulciber shrinks against the wall, his grey eyes wide in fear. He knows running is pointless -- the other demon would quickly catch him, and leave him even worse for wear as repercussion. “P-please, Mammon, sir, don’t do this … “

“Didn’t you just say ya’d do whatever ya have to do?” Mammon shakes his head, his wings stretching out wide as if to entrap the lesser demon where he stood. “And you really think suddenly pullin’ out the formalities is gonna get ya any mercy here?”

The flapping of numerous wings now filled the air, a large murder of crows circling in the dark sky above. Their bone-chilling caws and cries rain down upon them as the birds eagerly await their master’s command.

Mammon lunged forward and grasped the other’s jaw, his claws digging into flesh as he brought his face threateningly close. “Pretty ballsy of you to think messin’ with any of us was the right move.” He growled, a rumble in his throat. “Looks like someone needs remindin’ of his place.”

“I-I wasn’t thinkin’ at the time! C’mon, you know how that is, don’t you? I was just thinking of making some big bucks, I didn’t mean to go and step out of line--” Mulciber frantically rambled, trying to ignore the searing pain he was feeling from Mammon’s grip.

“I’m sure that was the case, Mulcey, sure!” If it wasn’t for his mocking smile, the Avatar would have nearly sounded genuine. “But that doesn’t mean you can escape the consequences, ya’know?” He let out a tsk, watching as blood dripped from where he had pierced the other’s skin.

He let go of Mulciber, taking a few steps back as he shook his hand as if to clean it of the ichor. There was no denying the glee he was feeling from this -- it had been a while since he decided to flex his abilities and powers on another. Looking up to the sky, he whistled out another tune, causing the crows to descend.

“He’s all yours.” He commands them in a language only they could understand, and in a flash the black-feathered birds rush in to attack. Their squawks mix with Mulciber’s shrieks as they begin to peck at him with their beaks and scratch him with their claws. Mammon fishes out the lighter from his pocket once more, grabbing a cigarette from the box he had on him with his other hand. Leaning against the opposing alley wall, he lights up and takes a slow drag, watching as the flurry of feathers pulverize his inferior.

The crows tear at Mulciber’s flesh, their sharp beaks riddling his body with small cavities and painting him with his own blood. He continues to cry and scream, though it’s obvious he’s losing energy by the second as they grow weaker in intensity, his body slumping towards the ground. Perhaps he had learned his lesson? Surely, he’s just waiting for it all to stop now, right?

Mammon takes a glance around, humming in delight as he catches sight of a discarded iron pipe. He drops the remains of his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before retrieving his now makeshift weapon. It feels cool and light in his hand, and he gives it a small toss in the air before catching it again with a satisfied smile.

“Alright, alright. You all can leave him alone now.” Mammon commands his murder once more, followed by another whistle to let them know they could go back to doing whatever they were doing before now. One of them flew over to Mammon, perching on the metal rod in his hand, looking up at him with a puffed up chest in pride as blood stained its beak.

“Yes, who’s my good lil’ birdie?” Mammon cooed, scratching the crow under its chin. “Go get yerself cleaned up, okay?” It cawed in delight before flying off to join the rest, who were fading back into the dark night sky. The Avatar of Greed shook his head fondly before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

Mulciber lay crumpled on the ground, though was making efforts to sit upright as he gasped for breath. His body hurt all over, as if every inch of him had been pierced with needles. He feebly looked up to meet Mammon’s gaze, a whimper leaving him as he noticed the rod in his hand.

“What? I couldn’t let my birds have all the fun, now could I?” Mammon grasped the rod firmly in both hands before swinging it down with a deafening crack as it hit the other, who let out another sharp cry of pain.

“Hm, perhaps just another for good measure.” Whack. Another wail.

“Okay, okay. One more.” Whack. Another splatter of blood.

Content at the shuddering and sniveling mass that was left, Mammon kneeled down to get close to Mulciber’s ear, his next words full of menace. “Ya really should have stuck to the building business. Keep that in mind in the future, ‘kay?”

Mammon stood up and let the iron rod clatter to the ground, its hollowness ringing into the night. He made his way back inside to order another drink, ignoring the whispers and stares from the others in the club. It was doubtful that Mulciber would make an appearance here after what had happened for a while.

He knocked on the bar counter, getting the attention of the bartender. “Give me a glass of your finest whiskey. Put it on Mulciber’s tab.”

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me fics #demons being demons #series: a demon's nature #writings #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #a side of mammon I would like to see more <3

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm a new follower and I just binged all of your stories today! And sooooo in love!

I just want to request a story, where chishiya is madly possesive of his S/O, where he gets jealous of anyone who would touch her.

S/O is a female.

Thank youuu so much!

Of course! Thanks so much for following and reading my fics! ❤❤

Possessive | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Summary: You begin to notice Chishiya’s possessive behaviour around you when you start becoming more serious about your relationship

Type: short scenario

Word Count: 1.7k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: this is more like just a few scenarios of Chishiya being possessive. It isn’t that well written since I had to rush it a bit. I felt like I had to post something today cause I haven’t in a while, so I was a bit busy 😣

You never viewed Chishiya as the possessive type, especially when it came to relationships. The sly, manipulative character seemed to convey the vibe that he wouldn’t care less about who his significant other talked to or hung out with. But of course, during the first few weeks of dating him, you began to notice that your assumption was completely inaccurate.

It started with small gestures, like pulling you closer to him subtly when you were hanging around the pool area, or keeping a strong grip on your hand when walking down the hallways of the hotel together. You always thought it was him just being a good boyfriend, but over time you began to think otherwise.

Chishiya became more clingy towards you, both in public and private. Sometimes he would not allow you to leave his side at all, which always ended in a complaint from you. Even when you rolled your eyes and tried to walk away from him anyway, he would just grab you by your waist and pull you back to him, giving you a quick glare to warn you.

In private, like when you were in your shared room together, he always hid your shirts from you so you would be forced to wear one of his white t-shirts. He would become all happy and giddy when you saw you in his clothes, wrapping his arms around you like a little koala and not letting go for hours. There would be some nights when you would have to pry his arms off from your torso, as he simply refused to let you go.

************

One night, you both were sitting in a booth together outside around the pool area. Most of The Beach’s residents had made their way to bed, so it was just you and Chishiya having a few drinks together with the occasional small group of people walking nearby.

Chishiya had his lips against yours, moving slowly and intimately as he held the side of your face with one hand and rubbed the bare skin of your waist with the other. You were having a heated make out session, just enjoying being in each other’s presence without being disturbed by anyone.

“Chishiya,” you breathed out as you broke the kiss, making Chishiya pout unhappily. “Let’s head inside, it’s getting cold out here.”

Chishiya smiled and shook his head at your suggestion. “Can we just spend a few more minutes here? There’s too many people inside and just want some alone time with you,” he asked, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and lightly nipping at the sensitive skin. You winced as he kissed and bit along your neck and collarbones.

“I want to see Arisu. He said he wasn’t feeling too well today and I want to check up on him,” you said, pulling Chishiya away from your neck by his shoulders. Chishiya held a frown on his face.

“Why do you want to see Arisu? I’m right here, you don’t need him,” he groaned in an annoyed tone while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You pulled a sarcastic face and rolled your eyes.

“Yes I know, but I’m just worried about him, that’s all,” you insisted, pushing your hand underneath Chishiya’s chin and pressing your thumb against his lips lightly.

Chishiya gazed lovingly into your eyes as you traced your thumb across his cheek, closing his eyes in content as the feeling of your hand on his skin. “You’re so pretty,” you praised, giving him a short peck on his nose, making him chuckle slightly.

*************

A more prominent incident that conveyed his possessive personality was when you were in an executive meeting together.

You were a higher ranking member of the militants, so you were able to be present at meetings with Hatter.

Both you and Chishiya stood at the end of the large room together, leaning against the wooden wall and listening to the debate that everyone was holding. Hatter was trying to decide which executives to send to the next game, as he was expecting the game to represent a card that they had not yet able to achieve, and he wished to make sure that they were guaranteed to bring it back.

“Niragi and Aguni could go,” Mira suggested, gesturing towards the two taller men that sat at the table next to one another. “They have a 100% winning streak, so I think they’d be the best choice for a diamonds game such as this one.”

Your eyes broke from the rest of the room when you felt Chishiya’s hand run along yours, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. You looked at his face, not even earning a side glance from him. It was unusual for him to act romantic towards you in front of the executives, especially during a meeting.

“Why doesn’t Y/N join then?” you suddenly heard your name. You looked back over to the table and saw Niragi eyeing you, making you tense immediately. “She can come with us, since she too has cleared a lot of diamond games.”

As everyone turned towards you and Chishiya, you felt Chishiya’s grip on your hand tighten.

Before you could even speak, Chishiya spoke for you.

“No,” he bluntly stated.

“No?” Niragi questioned, standing up from his seat and making his way over towards you and Chishiya’s position. “Why do you say no Chishiya?” Niragi asked, pressing the barrel of his rifle towards him.

“I’m not letting her go with you, not if I’m not there.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just continued to glance between the two bickering men.

“She’s her own person, she can speak for herself,” Niragi growled into Chishiya’s face, turning towards you. Your heart stopped as he stepped towards your smaller frame. “So, what do you think sweetheart? We could really use your help.”

The way he ran his tongue along his bottom lip creepily at the end of his sentence made you uneasy. Before you could even answer, Chishiya had pulled you by your arm roughly behind him, putting himself between you and Niragi and shoving on his chest to get him away.

“Fuck off you perv,” he cursed at him, “she’s staying here. I don’t care how much you need her. I wouldn’t even let her in the same room as you or Aguni without me there.”

Niragi scoffed and gave you both an angered look before turning away. “Fine. Keep that personality up around her Chishiya, she just might get sick of you treating her like a possession you have control over.”

***********

Another incident occurred when you were both at the neon coloured bar outside in the party area.

Chishiya had to leave for a few minutes to look for Kuina, so you decided to wait at the bar for him to return, despite his protesting.

You were nodding your head to the music and sipping your drink, enjoying your time by yourself and having a nice conversation with the young lady who was the bartender. You suddenly were pulled from your thoughts when a cold hand was placed on your lower back, making you jump and spin your head around with an annoyed expression.

“Hey gorgeous,” he slurred his words, obviously drunk. “You’re looking awfully lonely. You want to come dance with me,” he pressed, running a hand through your hair softly. You swatted his hand away from your face and shuffled over in your seat to distance yourself from him.

“No thanks,” you declined politely. “I’m actually with someone, so I’m waiting for them right now,” you tried to reassure him.

He frowned and looked around the bar for someone who you might have been with. “I don’t see anyone. I’m sure your partner won’t mind if you have a little dance with me~”

His flirtatious tone made you cringe. He seemed awfully insistent. You declined once again and stood up from your seat to walk away, but you didn’t get the chance to when he grabbed you by your waist and pulled your back against his chest. “Stop being so hard to get. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

You tried to pull yourself from his touch as he ran his hands along the skin of your stomach a bit too intimately for it to be comfortable.

To your surprise, you heard a loud impact noise and the man’s grip left your body. You turned around to see what had happened to notice none other than Chishiya standing above the man on the ground, taser in hand.

“Piss off you horny dog,” he spat towards him, tucking his weapon back into his hoodie pocket. You noticed the people surrounding you watching the scene, making you feel uneasy, but Chishiya grabbed you by your hand and dragged you away from the crowd, heading towards the hotel.

After walking for a while, Chishiya turned around and looked at you, concern painted across his face.

“Oh my god, are you okay baby?” he asked, frantically checking your body for any signs of injury. “Did he touch you anywhere? I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that, especially around all those intoxicated people.”

He was rambling as he rubbed your skin, trying to comfort you. “Chishiya,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m fine, it’s not your fault.”

You pulled him into a passionate kiss, running your hands through his hair, trying to calm him. Chishiya wrapped his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer, making you feel his warmth against you.

You snaked your hands underneath his hoodie and wrapped them around his back, scratching lightly through the material of his shirt. Chishiya sighed and pulled away from your lips, looking into your eyes.

“You’re all mine,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against yours playfully. You smiled at his statement. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.”

You nodded as he leant downwards to bite underneath your jaw. “Maybe I’m not making that clear enough,” he slyly said, making you chuckle nervously at his words. You gasped as he latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking on a single spot harshly. H.

“Chishiya, don’t!” you whispered-yelled. “You’ll leave a mark!”

Chishiya pulled away from your skin and admired the purple bruise that had formed on your neck, making him smirk. “That’s the point baby,” he said in a teasing tone. He leant back down and licked over the spot lightly to sooth the bruise.

You smiled and playfully hit his shoulder. “Idiot,” you groaned and rolled your eyes.

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Note

*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.

had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.

~~~

Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.

He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.

But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.

It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.

He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.

“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”

Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”

“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.

Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.

He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.

He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.

“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.

They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.

The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.

The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.

Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?

“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.

Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.

It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.

“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.

“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”

Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.

“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.

“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”

Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.

That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.

They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.

They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.

He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.

As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.

Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.

The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.

The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.

“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.

It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.

“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.

Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.

~~~

“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.

He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.

“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”

#asks #writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #hit post before i remembered tags exist oops

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northisnotup · 2 years

Text

The Unknowable Adam Parrish vs. Harvard - pt. 2

Ingram’s name flashing on his call display had Adam pausing in the middle of teasing Gansey about… something. In the two seconds it took to register who was calling and accept the call, he thought over at least three possibilities of what might be wrong. “Hello?”

“Adam, hey,” they sounded a little breathless. “what’s up?”

Instead of pointing out that Ingram had called him, he made an apologetic gesture to everyone else and moved himself out of the kitchen and into the family room. “Not much, just at home.” If there was still an illicit thrill of being able to look at the sprawling farmhouse and grounds and call it home, Adam refused to acknowledge it. For him, the surest way to allow himself to have this was not to look at it too closely. “It’s late, is everything okay?”

Ingram’s warm chuckle filled his ear. “You don’t have to check on me like one of your club, babe.”

The irritation Adam had for the dismissive way Ingram referred to the self-named Crying Club was founded on absolutely nothing except his bone-deep certainty that he was the only one allowed to speak dismissively of them. The irritation at being called ‘babe’ was soothed by the fact that Ingram called everyone ‘babe.’ It was their thing, similar to how Henry gave everyone nicknames. “When you call me at, damn, eleven thirty on a Wednesday it kind of seems like I do, babe.”

“Sorry, sorry,” They did not, at all, sound sorry. “I know it’s late, I just felt like you might pick up.”

Adam held back a sigh. Unlike some people he knew, he had excellent phone etiquette. But more than that, he enjoyed Ingram’s company. They were loud and forthright and openly ambitious. On good days it was like having another Gansey to measure himself against. On bad days it was like looking in a particularly unflattering mirror. With different majors, they saw each other less often this year than the last, but Ingram made a point of keeping in contact. It was nice to be sought out for his company, rather than looked to for answers or reassurance or advice. “And what are you up to?” He thought he heard some music in the background, but if he did it was either very quiet or very far away.

"Some party somewhere. I swear Adam, I don't know how you function with all this nature around you."

This was a well-worn argument, Adam's apparent woodsy-ness vs. Ingram's city-slicker attitude. Adam thought about telling them how two doors down, Gansey had been earnestly attempting to cajole the rest of them into going for a moonlit walk in the woods, the night sweetly warm instead of oppressively humid. Unsuccessfully, with Ronan and Henry as unlikely allies against the idea as: 'Dick, you fucking moron you're still allergic to bees,'/ 'Gansey man, my dearest love, I have lived through your death once and I would prefer that to be the only time.'

"Am I the person you drunk dial, then?"

"I am not drunk!" Ingram said, in the tone of someone who had made that same passionate declaration several times already. "Just having fun."

"Right, I forgot," Adam laughed lightly. Ingram lovingly called themself a lush, insisting that everyone had one life and may as well enjoy it. They dragged Adam to smokey wine bars and underground pits with the same eager joy that they painted their nails and insisted they be allowed to give Adam facials.

"Our song came on," they crooned. "Isn't that the damnest thing? I was just thinking of you, and our song came on."

Adam, who hadn't been aware they had a 'song,' paused. "Did it?"

"So, listen," they coughed a bit, "I'm in Virginia. Isn't that weird?"

"Oh." His brain kicked into autopilot. "That's right, you mentioned something about Virginia beach with your family this summer."

"Yeah! I'm meeting them there, but I wanted to catch up with some friends first. So," Adam could picture them twisting some of their mass of curly hair around their fingers as they spoke. "I was thinking, I'm going to miss you too much if I wait to see you til the fall. So how about I swing by and we'll get coffee?"

"Sure," Adam said, keeping his voice light and noncommittal. "When did you think? Ronan and I were going to do some hiking up in Natural Bridge."

Ronan wanted to show the rest of them Lindenmere.

Softly, he heard them laugh. "Ronan." But then said, "Oh yeah, for sure. Wicked. You know how much I've wanted to meet him!"

At school, Adam didn't say much about Ronan. After the murder-crab disaster of first year, he kept his cards close to chest, when it came the secrets he held. Ronan still visited when he could, renting a hotel room and walking with him all through downtown. The amount of times he'd had to apologize to either the Crying Club or Ingram for going somewhere with Ronan first, or saving it for when Ronan was in town had put him in worse light than the murder crabs, with them. But the Club, at least, were quick to forgive. They got to see the way Adam relaxed after Ronan called. They, at least, remembered the shy smile and the way he picked up their card game.

Ingram, unfortunately, got the Adam Parrish who cut with his words. Who clawed his way up from nothing. Who was sometimes frustrated with and upset by his partner. Who missed home as badly as he hated it.

"He thinks you sound interesting," he offered, after a beat.

Ronan had been jealous for all of two seconds, until Adam had sent a picture of them all out somewhere. They'd been posing in front of a poster for shopping cart races and he'd thought Ronan would find it funny. He had. He'd found the post-race pictures even funnier, with Gillian and Ingram beat up and mussed, both of them with eyeliner running in streaks down their cheeks. Oddly enough he settled, after that.

Hennessy was of the opinion it was her good influence. Which Adam supposed was some kind of joke, as Hennessy was not a good influence.

"You know sometimes I think you love him more than me," they said dramatically.

"Of course not, Ingram." Adam matched their emotion with deep, almost offensive sarcasm. "You're my true love."

Ingram didn't laugh, and Adam tried not to be thrown. He'd never known Ingram to not enjoy when he was at his very worst. "He lives out in the sticks, right? You think you're gonna stay there all summer?"

Belatedly, Adam realized he wasn't sure he had ever told anyone that they lived together. That he wasn't visiting when he went over, but going home.

"Adam?"

Ingram gasped. "Adam Parrish! Who is that?"

"Hi, Blue," he said, responding and explaining both. She was staring at him hard, and though Adam had nothing to feel defensive about, he still squared his shoulders.

In his ear, Ingram sighed. "Oh that's no fun," they joked. "And here I thought you might have been entertaining a torrid affair."

Somehow, despite being almost a full half foot shorter than him Blue managed to look down at him. She would never stoop to making a 'wrap it up,' gesture, that kind of presumptive demand for someone's time or attention wasn't her style. Instead, she left the door wide open as she left, the hallway light and warm laughter from the kitchen cutting through the quiet darkness Adam had accidentally wrapped himself up in.

"Once again, I'm sorry I don't live down to your expectations, but my life is not a soap opera." Adam said. "I have to go, talk later?"

"Yeah, yeah of course."

"Okay," Adam licked his lips, about to sign off.

"Wait."

Fuck.

"Adam. I..."

"I really have to go, I'm so sorry," he cut in. "Blue came all this way to see me. Text me tomorrow, we'll set coffee up. Bye."

He hung up before Ingram could spit out the damning thing they were working up to.

Phone in hand, Adam trooped back into the kitchen, which fell quiet. He crossed to the kitchen table and collapsed into an open seat, placed his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. The screen of his phone wedged uncomfortably against his cheek.

"Adam?" Gansey hesitated.

"I am gonna say this once, just once. We're gonna get into it, and then we're never gonna discuss it again." Sudden exhaustion robbed him of his practiced conventions, lengthening his vowels and dropping into contractions. Pulling his head from his hands, he made sure to look Ronan in the eyes. "You were right."

Ronan's hands slapped down on the counter top and Adam's embarrassed groan was drowned out by his cry of victory. "I told you! I fucking told you Parrish!"

"What did we tell Adam?" Gansey, as always, hated to be left out of the joke.

"We didn't tell him anything," Blue snapped. She hated to be left out even more than Gansey did but it would be a cold day in hell before she admitted to it when she could take her partner to task for butting into conversations instead.

“I said!” Ronan shouted. “I said your fucking friend wanted to break us up!”

“I know.” Adam tucked his head back into his hands, peeking through his fingers. “Shut up.” Which came out sounding like ‘shaddup.’

“What?” Henry, never one to miss out on hot goss, also smacked the counter top, earning himself a light shove from a still celebrating Ronan. “No way. You always say your college friends are too boring for stories! Tell me everything.”

“Yeah, Adam,” Blue was quick to pile on. “Tell us everything.”

The death knell rang as Ronan pulled out his phone, and read “‘Ingram heard the last of that and told me I should break up with you, ha ha.’”

Blue shrugged. “So? Anyone who hears you two bicker thinks you should break up.”

“Nah, man. They pull the dumbest fucking stunts. They took a selfie with Parrish napping on their shoulder one time.”

“And they sent it to you?” Gansey gasped.

“No. Parrish did, the next morning. He thought it was funny.” Ronan’s mouth hooked into a grin.

“Oh, Parrish. So innocent, so sweet.” Henry pretended to wipe away tears.

With a deep sigh, Adam sat up and arched against the back of the chair, stretching his suddenly knotted back. Ronan came around the counter and swung his phone in Adam’s face, the picture in question blown up on the screen. It was much more incriminating than Adam remembered it being. They were sitting on Ingram’s dorm bed, a throw wrapped around them and dressed down in sweats. The Adam on the screen looked exhausted. The Ingram was smirking into the camera lens.

“What am I going to do? Ignore it?”

“You could try telling the truth for once.” Like the shithead he was, Ronan ruffled Adam’s hair harsh enough to straddle the line between head scratch and noogie. But in a contrast to his sharp words he kept his fingers at Adam’s nape and gentled them to where he was nearly playing with the short strands.

“Or,” Hennessy broke in, swinging herself around the kitchen doorway and posing against the frame. Adam had thought she was holed up in the Long Barn for the night, working through some artistic block. “You could pull that very long stick out of your fantastic arse and just take Jordan up on her offer. I promise she doesn’t bite. Unless, that’s what you’re into and you’ve been holding yourself back. I never try to yuck anyone’s yum. Though you might have to work Declo a little before you can really-”

“Fuck off, Hen.” Ronan snarled.

“No, shan’t.” Instead she stepped into the arms Gansey held open and offered him first one cheek, then the other for some very European hello kisses.

Practical as always, Blue cut in before they could really get going. “What did Jordan offer?”

“Harvard has a gallery and she’s the whole,” Hennessy waved her arms, “It Girl of art right now. She could offer for have them showcase her work in exchange for Ronan being allowed back on campus.”

“That’s fantastic!” Gansey said. Adam could already see him making lists of people he could call and favors he could cash in. He’d do anything for Ronan. That was true in high school when he sold Monmouth for a diploma Ronan never got and it was true now. “Adam, what’s the downside here, because I’m not seeing it.”

Adam closed his eyes and let his head sink into Ronan’s hands. It meant more than he could say that Gansey was asking for his reasoning instead of pushing for the result he thought was best. But it also meant that he had to share his reasoning.

“Parrish? Ask anyone for help? Ha!” Hennessy had been upset on her sister’s behalf ever since Adam turned her down.

“I’ll hear it from Adam, thank you.”

He didn’t need to see to know Blue was rolling her eyes. “Why? She’s right. Adam doesn’t lean on anyone, not even family.”

He couldn’t help himself. “She’s not -”

Ronan’s fingers tightened in his nape.

Hennessy’s voice was low and terrible, the same way Ronan’s got when he was at his worst. “She’s. Not. What?”

Adam’s tongue felt rooted in his mouth. He couldn’t make himself say it. Not with Ronan behind him. Not with Blue and Gansey and hell, even Henry, here in the place he called home. “It feels cheap.” He finally made himself say. “It feels like cheating.” Neither of those things were lies and Ronan’s fingers relaxed, moving to stroke down the tense muscles in the back of his neck. If they were alone, he’d be doing it with his mouth. Adam swallowed hard and, regretfully, pulled away. “This doesn’t help my problem, guys. I don’t want to hurt Ingram’s feelings.”

“Parrish, my guy,” Henry’s voice was low and soothing. Like faux-jazz. The opening riff of Careless Whisper. “Just stop venting to them. So long as you’re only telling them when our Mr. Lynch pisses you off, they’re going to think you’re better off without him.” He paused, meaningfully. “And perhaps you could start inferring just how serious it is. I’m not saying wear the ring we know Ronan has hidden away somewhere, but…”

Everyone shouted at once. Ronan, embarrassed by his own lack of chill. Blue, about the hetero-normative trappings of marriage and the assumption of monogamous fidelity ending in one. Gansey, in defense of Ronan and Hennessy, because everyone else was yelling and she enjoyed adding to the chaos.

Adam leaned his head back against Ronan’s stomach. The first bit was good advice, at least. He’d been very careful to keep his life at Harvard separate from his real life, ever since the murder crab incident. But he genuinely did like Ingram, and would mourn the loss of their friendship. Maybe he could convince Ronan to come to coffee. He would also have to convince Hennessy to stay home, which would be the harder of the two tasks.

Those two, he already knew with preternatural sense, would get along like a house on fire and Adam did not want to be there when it was set ablaze. That being said, Hennessy was beautiful and anything that could take Ingram’s attention off Adam would be a boone.

Oh god, he thought disparagingly, they’re going to love her.

“Ingram and Hennessy,” he muttered, trusting Ronan to be listening.

Ronan fell quiet, considering, Then, “Hey, Hennessy, you like femme presenting twinks, right?”

Adam wanted to ask where Ronan had learned any of what he just said, but between Blue, Henry and Hennessy, he had his answer.

“Piss off.”

Ronan pulled The Picture up again.

“Fuck me. That’s who’s trying to homewreck you?”

“Apparently.”

“Tuesday, light me up.” Hennessy muttered.

Adam didn’t tell her it was Wednesday. She was happily oblivious to the passage of time. The day Hennessy was on time for anything was a sign of the apocalypse. “So?”

“Yeah, I’ll jump on that grenade.” She licked her lips, to Blue’s great dissatisfaction.

Adam cut in before Blue could get on her soapbox about ‘a woman’s worth’ not laying between her legs or Hennessy could counter about American Christian puritanical views of sex. They’d already had that screaming fight once today and once was enough for a lifetime. “Don’t we have to be on the road early tomorrow?”

There was some grumbling assent but Henry, loudly disagreed. “My friends. My loves. My raison d'être. We’ve not had the chance to bond like this in many months. We might have a long road tomorrow, but,” he slammed a vodka bottle down on the counter. “We go hard tonight.”

“Huzzah.” Gansey said, dazed, and Adam couldn’t help it, he laughed, long and loud. He wished he could trap this moment in a bubble. He wanted to be able to replay this memory at will and show it to all the stuffy, tight ass, pretentious assholes who looked at him sideways or carefully hid their pity when he talked about his friends from high school. The people who condescended, ‘that’s so cute! I wish I’d stayed in contact with my old friends, but I’m just so busy now!’

He wanted to rub this love he was surrounded with in their stuck up noses. He said, “Tanquam,” and felt more than heard the answering “Alter idem.”

#my fic #the raven cycle #the dreamer trilogy #spoilers #the dreamer trilogy spoilers #pynch #ronan lynch and his big dumb crush #ronan lynch #adam parrish

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

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the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher

ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.495

part one

༉‧₊˚✧

The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.

I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.

Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”

“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”

I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.

“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.

“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”

“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.

“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.

When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.

I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.

“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!

Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.

“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.

“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.

Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.

As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.

“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.

“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.

“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.

“Liam’s not that bad you know.”

“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.

#damon albarn x reader #Liam gallagher x reader #Liam gallagher #damon albarn #blur #blur band #oasis band #my writing #band imagines #fluff #nineties #90s #music

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