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educatedsimps · 2 years

Note

Hii!! I love ur writing!! is it possible to ask for an Atsumu with reader who loves crochets and it's always making herself some clothes or accesories and him surprising her with a big pack of yarn n implements for her birthday?

request - crochet be mine?

highschool!Atsumu x f!Reader (set in AU3 sibling swap!)

includes: FLUFF, high school life (lol), puppy love (please, it's so cute)

wc:

a/n: hi dear anon! we’re really glad to hear that you enjoy our writing 🥺💕 this request was super adorable, of course we’ll write it for you! Lyssa doesn't crochet but i do, so we’ll be working together for this one (since it's an Atsumu request lol) enjoy <3

Atsumu’s POV:

She's using that hook thing again. Is it another sweater? Or a cute little pendant thing? Or another octopus? Whatever it is, it's gonna be super adorable.

Like her.

She was sitting across the aisle two rows in front of me and Samu, giving me a perfect view of her side profile.

Why haven't I mustered the courage to speak to her? It's nearly the end of our junior year!

Dammit, what's wrong with you, Miya Atsumu? You've never been so nervous about talking to a girl before! Heck, you have a whole fan club and you're surrounded by cheerleaders everywhere at volleyball matches!

This should be a piece of cake to you, you idiot!

I let out a huge groan and practically slammed my head into my desk. I whined once more as my eyebrows kept knitting (lol, I'm sorry, this is just so funny to me -Jo) themselves together into a frown.

"Why do you look like crap?" I didn't even need to raise my head to know that it was my younger twin speaking to me.

"Do you have any idea how disrespectful you are? I'm your older brother, ya piece of shit. OLDER BROTHER!" I practically yelled. Yeah, he was pissing me off.

The girl of my dreams was so near, yet so far. And now, I had an irritating younger twin to deal with.

"Look, man. You've been pining after Y/N since spring break. Literally everyone knows that you like her. You got so shy after she came by the gym last month! The Miya Atsumu I know doesn't get shy in front of girls!” My annoying brother nagged.

But, his words did get me to think again.

If I actually got as nervous as what Samu had described-

Holy shit. That means that it's actually true. I really do like her.

Samu plopped down into his chair next to mine just as we heard a voice a distance away, groaning in frustration.

“Dang it, I’m out of yarn. Again! This is the third time this week! And this was supposed to be a gift for the other girls at our extra curricular!” It was Y/N complaining to her desk buddy, Isaji Miyuki.

Out of yarn?

“We can drop by the craft store tomorrow after school, if you’d like?” Miyuki asked. Y/N shook her head.

“I can't tomorrow. My mom’s preparing my favourite dish for my birthday and I've gotta get home fast!" Y/N responded excitedly.

Whipping my head back to Samu, I elbowed him. Hard. He glared at me.

“Samu, I got it! You go ahead later after school. I've gotta run to the store real quick,” I whisper-yelled to my twin.

He looked at me suspiciously, before rolling his eyes and grumbling. “Sure, whatever."

Y/N’s POV:

A loud chorus of “Happy birthday, Y/N!” greeted me as I stepped into my classroom. Warmth bloomed in my chest as I smiled at my classmates.

I thanked everyone as I made my way over to my seat, noting that the infamous Miya Twins had yet to arrive this morning.

Jo nudged me with her elbow and gave me a pointed look.

“What?” I asked.

“Looks like someone’s disappointed that her favourite twin isn't here yet,” she teased. I flushed.

Was I that obvious?

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” I huffed.

“Oh, speak of the devils,” she murmured under her breath. Curiously, I looked up to see Osamu shuffling past my table, shooting me a small smile and another birthday greeting.

I mouthed a thanks to Osamu, just as his brother stopped right by my desk.

“H-hey, good morning, L/N-san!”

“Morning, Atsumu-kun,” I replied brightly.

A boyish grin was plastered on his face. He seemed to think for a second before he quickly reached back and pulled out a brown paper bag from behind him.

“Happy birthday, Y/N. I hope you like it!” Atsumu said in a rush, holding out the paper bag in front of me. I noticed that it was from the same store I usually bought my yarn from.

Before I could thank him, the bag was pushed into my hands as he scrambled back to his seat. His ears were tinged pink.

Aww, he's adorable.

Miyuki nudged my side again and eagerly gestured for me to open the bag.

Carefully, I pried open the brown bag and peered inside. In it were five balls of yarn, their colours similar to the ones I had been using for my current project. There was also a little note placed in the bag. I took it out and read it silently to myself.

Happy birthday, Y/N! I hope that you like the little gift from me :) I'm not exactly good with words but I really hope we can be friends, and I'm sure whatever you're making this time will be just as adorable as you are. Happy birthday again and I hope you have a great day too. - Miya Atsumu

His sloppy handwriting was unmistakable on that small piece of paper and I giggled to myself as I read each line again. My heart was palpitating at an incredible pace and I felt heat crawl up my neck at his words. I heard a tiny squeal from Miyuki as she kept looking back and forth between me and Atsumu.

"He's looking at you! Go say thanks!" Miyuki and Jo urged. Hesitantly, I looked back at the yarn and the note.

Then, I finally found the courage to thank him.

Atsumu's POV:

What if I had heard her wrongly? What if I got her the wrong coloured yarn? What if my note was too cheesy? I don't wanna weird her out! Oh no, she's gonna think I'm weird now-

I felt my soul leave my body as I watched her take out the note and giggle softly.

Oh man, she's too cute for my heart to handle...

My heart seemed to stop as I saw her stand up and make her way towards my table.

Oh my God, she's coming closer. Oh shit, I might collapse halfway, dammit-

"Thank you so much for the yarn, Atsumu! And sure, I'd love to be friends with you," she said, dipping her head slightly with an unmistakable blush on her cheeks.

So. Damn. Cute.

I coughed, and spouted out, "Y-yer welcome, I hope you like it!" I could feel my face turning red.

The next few moments were pretty awkward. Both of us endured three seconds of silence before we both started to speak again.

"I was wonderin' if-"

"Actually, do you wanna-"

We spoke at the same time and looked at each other for a good two seconds before I heard my brother snicker from beside me. I shot him a glare and continued.

"Sorry, uh... I was wondering if you would like to come to my next game- OW! I mean, our next game, next Friday evening?" I asked, giving my brother a side-glare for slapping my back before turning back to Y/N.

Y/N's eyes glimmered, she stumbled over her words and finally squeaked out, “Yeah! Of course! Th-that's what friends d-do, right?"

I heaved a sigh of relief. “Great! Awesome! I'll see ya there!"

She bowed again before scurrying back to her seat where Miyuki and Jo were waiting for her with wide eyes.

I collapsed back into my seat as my brother snickered yet again.

"What are ya laughing at, asshat?" I snapped.

"Pfft, nothing. Just the fact that it took you six months to ask her to be friends with ya," Samu cackled in my face.

"Oh, yeah? Well, how about you and Jo? You literally spoke to her only after eight months. Loser." I pouted childishly.

Samu cleared his throat. "Fine. Have it your way." Damn, he's blushing.

Then it hit me.

“YOU LIKE JO-,”

He slapped his hand over my mouth so hard I nearly flung backwards and out of my chair.

“SHUT UP, YOU PIG-,” he grimaced.

Class begun soon after, but my mind was still reeling at the fact that Y/N would be coming to my next game. She's gonna see how great I am on the court and she'll definitely wanna be my girlfriend after that! I thought, daydreaming about her yet again.

I already couldn't wait for the game. Stupid Samu, of course I'll get her to be my girlfriend, just you wait.

a/n: aaaaaaaa this was so cute to write, thank you again for requesting!! hope it was up to your expectations and thank you for reading <33

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rosiehrs · 3 years

Text

hourglass | jisoo

group ; blackpink

genre ; slight fluff, angst

au ; highschool! au, soulmates! au

pairing ; student!jisoo / fem!reader

summary ; jisoo's soulmate turned out to be the last person she wanted and she had to face the consequences.

warnings ; death, slight mention of incest, swearing

a/n ; originally posted on my wp! one of my fav works hehe, also just something to feed you guys while i complete the requests!! hope u like it as much as i do, not proofread x

word count ; 5.4k

hourglass. we all get an hourglass when we reach 18,, the hour glass doesn't just last for an hour, it ends when you meet your soulmate. we all have a mark, a birthmark, if you will ; whenever your hourglass runs out, your birthmark stings and slightly glows.

my 18th birthday was just one week away. that's all i thought about during the first 20 minutes of me waking up.

"bae y/n! hurry the fuck up and get out of bed before i drag you by your teeth." my sister, bae joohyun or irene, said from the living room. "ugh, fine!" i replied, getting out of the covers. i brushed my hair and quickly got changed into my uniform. i then ran downstairs to see my older sister in the living room. "your breakfast is in the kitchen, now hurry up before we're both late." she said, watching tv. i nodded and walked into the kitchen, seeing a plate full of pancakes. i punched the air in happiness and started digging in.

—

irene and i walked into school together, talking about our upcoming exams. she looked up and saw her friend group, "ayt, kiddo. i'm gonna leave you now, don't get into trouble or i'll rip your hair out." she said in a sweet tone, kissing the side of my head. she then walked away, leaving me dumbfounded. i blinked a few times before going to find my friends, "how the actual hell is she my sister.." i mumbled to myself.

"hey hoes!" you greeted your friends, jumping on lisa's lap. "hey, y/n~" they replied. "what's going on today? anything spicy?"

"fuck yeah, chanyeol and seungwan's hourglass ran out and their marks glowed. then seungwan full on slapped his hourglass out of his hand. the shit broke and now,, no soulmates for them! man, i wonder which one of them dies.." namjoon said, gesturing. my eyes widened, "wait– what? what do you mean?" they all laughed at me, "awh, y/n's still a baby. when your hourglass gets broken on purpose by your own soulmate, then poof, you won't have a soulmate." jaehyun explained. "oh! and one of them dies. most likely," chaeyeon continued, excitedly.

"i- diES??" i asked. "yes, y/n, dies." lisa said, holding your waist. "hoLD THE FUCK UP, SINCE WHEN? AND HOW ARE YA'LL SO CHILL ABOUT THIS??" i asked, freaking out. they shrugged, "meh, i mean, we all die some day?" yoongi replied, chewing on his food. "bRUH, one of them is about to fuCKING DIE! they're like my best friends too, you know!"

"welp, go and.. spend time with them then, i don't know–" the bell rang and they all scattered to class. lisa and i sat there, me still trying to process everything. "y/n/n, you good?"

"lisa, i'm so gonna die." i said, blankly, making her laugh. "oh shut up, i bet you and your soulmate will live happily every after, now come on." she stood up and held her hand out for me, i grabbed it and we walked to science class. lisa and i were babbling on about the other things about soulmates until someone bumped into me.

"dude, watch where the fuck you're go– y/n, y/n, y/n. what a surprise, being a clumsy ass all the time." jisoo smiled, making me roll my eyes. "for your information, you were the one who bumped into me?" i replied, making her scoff. "talking back? kinda new from the bae y/n, what made you–"

"jisoo, stop. she doesn't have time to deal with your bullshit." lisa said, cutting her off. "come on, lisa. we're just having some fun, right, y/n?" she replied, shoving me. "ayt, that's it–" i was about to jump her until lisa pulled me back and our discipline teacher, ms choi came around the corner. "miss bae, miss kim. are you two really doing this again?"

"i- miss choi, i was just messing around with y/n, but she was being a sensitive brat and started to jump at me–" miss choi, sighed. "can you two stay away from each other for a while? it's only monday and i really don't have the energy to deal with you two right now."

the three of us bowed as she walked away. "that's it, bae. it's simple, stay away from me and we both get out of trouble." jisoo smiled. "i hate you so much, kim." i replied, making her giggle. "trust me, y/n. if i told you i hated you with everything in me, that would still be an understatement." she walked into class while i stood there, pissed. "brUH, WHY THE FUCK DOES SHE EXIST–" lisa shushed you, "be quiet and calm down, okay?"

"how the actual fuck am i supposed to calm down? she's so fucking annoying and ugh!" i complained. "y/n, hush. you can be just as annoying" i scoffed at her, "hOW? ME? AS ANNOYING AS KIM JISOO? pFFT YOU'RE FUNNY" she rolled her eyes at me as we walked in the classroom.

jisoo and i had quite a lot of history with each other. our parents were good friends, which resulted in both of our families spending a lot of time with each other. having dinners, having to sleepover at jisoo's house, her having to sleepover at my house, and just everything. but jisoo and i never got along, we would always quarrel and yell at each other. i tried my best to be friendly with her as our parents really wanted the two of us to get along. but the older girl made it so hard for me. she'd tease me, hurt me, make fun of me and would just be a whole brat.

unfortunately, the devil herself was seated behind me, so we spent the whole lesson bickering and dissing each other. "bruh~ can you like shut up for like 5 minutes?" i asked, making her flick the back of my head. "i should be saying the same to you, asshole."

—— no one's pov

"when are you gonna stop lying to yourself, unnie?" jennie asked jisoo as she was eating her lunch. "lying? about what?" she replied, her mouth full of food. "you. you like y/n," jennie continued, making jisoo choke on her food. "okay, i'm sorry, wHAT- aRE YOU STUPID? I'D NEVER LIKE THAT RAT, SHE'S DISGUSTING, BROKE, UNHYGIENIC, UG-"

"you're being too defensive, it's obvious now. you have feelings for bae y/n." seokjin teased, wiping his mouth. "i don't know how i'm friends with you idiots, i do not like bae y/n. in fact, i despise her. hate her, even. she's such a brat and if you think i'd have feelings for someone like her, you're stupid. my standards are not that low, got it?"

they all rolled their eyes, shaking their head. "what ever you say, noona, whatever you say." johnny replies.

"we were born the same year, why are you calling me noona-"

the bell rang and they all scattered off to class. "unnie, do you have your hourglass yet?" rosé asked, making jisoo nod. "i'm a year older than you, i'm already 19, kiddo." chaeyoung squinted her eyes, "so you've been waiting to meet your soulmate for over a year? yikes," jisoo smacked her head, "oh be quiet, i'm sure i'll meet them soon."

"who do you think it's gonna be?" chaeng asked. "do you think i know? there's over 7 billion people on this earth, how am i supposed to take a hunch and guess who it is?" jisoo replies, making rosé hold her hands up. "okay, okay, jeez, calm down~"

"see you after class, weirdo" the younger girl said, walking into her classroom. jisoo continued walking and saw you. she decided it was a good idea to fuck around with you a little, so she walked behind you and pinched your waist. you jumped in pain and turned around, "dude, what the fuck?"

jisoo smiled, bitterly before walking into the classroom. you groaned and did the same thing. you were walking to your seat until jaehyun stopped you and grabbed your wrist, "y/n/n, you turn 18 in 2 days, correct?" he asked, making you nod. "yes? why~?"

"hourglass." he simply replied and winked, before letting your wrist go. you looked at him weirdly and laughed. you got to your seat and glared at jisoo. you sat down and immediately got bothered by her. "jesus, when will you stop?!"

⌨︎︎ one day after

the day went by and the both of you hated each other even more.

thooouughhhhh, you do have a soft spot for the so-called brat. as much as you wanted to deny it, she was gorgeous and at times could be nice.

the day of school ended and you and your friends went over to your house to celebrate your 18th birthday. "y/n's gonna get her hourglass in exactly 7 hours, holy shit." jaehyun said, being dramatic. "oh, shut up." all 6 of you went over to your house, with their stuff to sleepover. "ayt, 6 hours and 35 minutes." jaehyun said, looking at his watch. "jUNG JAEHYUN, SHUT UP. I GET IT" you said pretending to cry. the others laughed, patting your back.

in the house with you, were

lisa, jaehyun, namjoon, chaeyeon and yoongi.

"okay we're gonna go downstairs, stay here for everlasting life." lisa, chaeyeon and yoongi ran downstairs leaving you with joon and jaeyuk.

"i have a feeling y/n's soulmate's gonna be a gORL" jaehyun said out of nowhere. "i- why so suddenly?" you asked, pretending to cry again. "i don't know, man. you kinda gay." he continued.

"okay, it's official. i'm disowning jaehyun." you said, sitting away from him. namjoon stood up and sat back down next to you, "i'm with you on that"

"i'm- come on, dudes! y/n is kinda gay."

"no you"

mEaNwHiLe~

chaeyeon, lisa and yoongi were attempting to bake a cake for y/n. notice how i said attempting.

"uhh.. 5 1/4 cups of flour." lisa said, staring at her phone and pouring the flour in the bowl.

"you mean 2?" yoongi asked.

"huh?"

"2 1/4 cups of flour." he replied.

"oh.. well shit."

"LISA-"

"i'M SORRY, I THOUGHT-"

"iDIOT"

"YOU SHOULD'VE TOLD ME SOONER-"

"ladies, ladies! let's settle this in an orderly manner, alright?" chaeyeon said, holding them both back. "did you just call me a lady-"

"yOU DILDOS, ITS CHAOS DOWN HERE. HURRY THE FUCK UP AND GEt yOUR SHIT TOGETHER! Y/N IS SUFFERING WITH JAEHYUN, SPARE HER" namjoon shouted, scolding them.

"SIR, YES, SIR!" they all shouted in unison, saluting. "that's better, now get to work!" namjoon ran back upstairs, going into your room. "back~ they just needed some adjustments."

"what are they doing anyways?" you asked. "honestly, i have no clue. but you'll find out later."

"wow, okay-"

"hm, yeah, definitely gay."

"jaehyun, if you call me gay one more time, i will slap the remaining brain cells out of your brain."

"the birthday girl is being so aggressive, sheesh." jaehyun said, shaking his head. "you two are kids, my god"

——

"5 MINUTES! 5 FUCKING MINUTES!" jaehyun yelled, making all of you laugh. you spent the last few hours bickering and playing games with your friends. lisa, yoongi and chaeyeon ran back downstairs as the clock was about to turn 12.

they came back with a cake, surprising you. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1, haPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!" they yelled, making you smile widely. "bLOW, mAKE A WISH." you closed your eyes and made a wish.

'i wish to be able to live a happy life with my soulmate.'

*blow*

"YAY!"

^dING DONG*

"tHATS HER HOURGLASS" jaehyun screamed. "gET DOWN THERE."

you ran downstairs and opened your front door. you were immediately greeted by a small box with your initials on it. you picked it up and ran back upstairs. "OOH, OOH OPEN IT!"

you opened the box and pulled your sacred hourglass out. "AWH, IM SORRY, Y/N. WE AREN'T SOULMATES" lisa apologised, making you laugh. "welp, i guess we gotta wait." all of you decided to call it a night – after eating the cake. obviously.

⌨︎︎ the day after y/n's pov

the six of us reached school together, bickering on the way. "oh, y/n/n, did you bring your hourglass today?" yoongi asked, making me shake my head. "no– should i have?"

"who knows? you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat." jaehyun replied, smacking my head.

"i'm- why the fuck am i only learning about this?"

"because you're uncultured, now let's get to class."

i was walking with lisa and jaehyun to our english class when someone pulled me back. "well if it isn't the birthday girl, happy birthday, sweetheart" jisoo smiled at me, making me roll my eyes. "thanks? but did you just-"

"i'm kidding, bae. i couldn't care less about your birthday and you are definitely not a sweetheart. i'm just excited for you to meet your soulmate and die."

"what the fuck is wrong with y-"

"fuck-" "ouch-"

jisoo and i yelled in pain at the same time. i looked down to my wrist and saw my mark glowing a bright white through my shirt, while jisoo looked at her waist, the same thing happening to her.

we then looked at each other in horror,

"nonono"

"wait, what the fuck"

jisoo rummaged through her bag finding her hourglass, "it's still running. why is my mark glowing"

i suddenly remembered what my friends had told me,

'you might meet your soulmate at school. your mark only glows when you have your hourglass, mate. your soulmate might meet you and their mark glows, but then their hourglass is still going cuz you don't have yours. selfish rat.'

'nonono, there's no fucking way that jisoo is my soulmate' i thought, panicking.

"where's your hourglass." jisoo asked, strictly. "a-at home." i replied. jisoo looked around to see if anyone else's marks were glowing. to her luck, there were two other people, looking just as shocked and confused as we were.

my sister joohyun and seokjin. "wait-"

"nah, look man. there's no way we're soulmates, i'm gay as fuck"

"w-wait, my hourglass is still going. and come on, lady, look at me. i'm gorgeous, hot, sexy. you're lucky if you had me as a soulmate." jin replied, pointing at himself.

"bae! kim! over here!" jisoo yelled, making them look at the both of us. seeing that we were in the same situation, they ran over. "okay, so there might be a small, itty bitty possibility that we have our soulmates mixed up right?" jisoo asked, making irene nod. "i mean, i guess, but the possibilities are that you're soulmates with y/n/n, jin or me. and the possibilities with jin are the same. y/n and i only have two possibilities because we're siblings"

"unless the world wants us to make incest a thing" i replied, smirking at her. she smacked my head, making me yelp. "ah! jeez, i was kidding, you rat"

"if it's jin and me, why haven't our hourglasses run out yet?" jisoo asked.

"but if it's me and irene, why haven't ours run out yet?"

"uh- you see.. my sister and i have a thing for leaving things at home – even when we're supposed to bring them.." she replied.

i shook your head, still processing everything.

"jesus, typical baes. bring your hourglasses tomorrow and we'll meet at the bleachers at exactly 8:40 am, you got it?" jisoo demanded, shocking all of you. "wow, ms bossy pants"

"shut the fuck up, y/n. my life is already ruined knowing that there's a slight chance that you're my soulmate." she hissed before walking away to class.

"weLL OUCH"

——

i did the same thing, walked to class with jaehyun and lisa babbling about what just happened. "yo, what the fuck do i do?" i asked panicking. "nothing, you're just gonna hope that your soulmate is jin or joohyun-"

"JIN, JUST JIN."

"yeah whatever."

after school ended, my sister and iwent back home babbling about our possible soulmates and kinda just fell asleep.

the next thing i knew, it was the next day and i had to get ready and bring our hourglasses.

"ayt, bleachers, bleachers, bleachers. FOUND THEM." we walked over to the bleachers with jisoo glaring at the both of us. "you're two minutes late."

"i- BRUH WHAT THE FUC-"

"both of you better shut up before i make you. it's so early in the morning, please don't argue now." right on cue, all our marks started glowing, making the four of us yelp in pain. in a hurry, i took your hourglass out, seeing it had just finished. i looked at all three of them seeing that the same happened to them. "ugh, how the fuck do we figure this out now?" jin asked.

"uh, okay. jin, go to the other side of the field with y/n and i go with irene. if our marks stop glowing, then we aren't with our soulmates, okay?" jisoo demanded, making us nod. seokjin grabbed my hand, running to the other side. i blushed slightly, kind of hoping that my soulmate was him. we reached the other side of the football field, panting. jin still hadn't let go of my hand. we both looked at our marks, the light slowly fading away. jin and i sighed at the same time, "listen, y/n. we might not be soulmates, but i kind of wished that were. whoever has you as his or her soulmate is lucky – i kinda wanna be jisoo right now" he laughed. i giggled, squeezing his hand, "i'm thinking the same thing, jinnie. but fuck, i'm gonna have to live with jisoo? my god" the both of us laughed at each other running back to the others. "well.. uhm.. i guess y/n and i are gonna do the same.." jisoo said, avoiding eye-contact. i nodded, awkwardly as irene and jin started to run away. jisoo and i walked to the other side, quietly. i grabbed her wrist before she could walk any further, "what do you wan-"

"why do you hate me so much? what did i ever do to you? all i've ever done was try to be your friend, why is that so bad?" i asked, angrily. she looked at me, shocked. i've never actually yelled at her before, so this might've been a shock to her. "i-i'm.. just shut up." she grabbed my hand and dragged me to the other side of the field. "jisoo, i mean it. we might be soulmates, you're gonna have to stop being an asshole to me sometime soon."

she ignored me and just kept walking, i sighed and let her drag me. at this point, we were on the other side, and our glows continued glowing. we looked at our hourglasses, seeing it was still the same state, it finished running. we looked at each other in fear,

"w-we're.. we're soulmates, jisoo." i whispered. she stood there, staring at your marks and hourglasses. "nono.. t-this.. it can't be. y/n, i can't fucking do this–"

"jisoo, you have no choice–"

"but i do" she said, confusing me. "j-jisoo?"

"FUCK, Y/N. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" she screeched, slapping my hourglass onto the floor. in almost slow motion, i watched it shatter, all the sand spilling everywhere. "JISOO-" before i could do anything, my mark started glowing a bright red, it felt like someone was burning me while sticking a knife into my stomach. i fell onto the floor, shocking jisoo. "oh my god, y/n!" she shouted, rushing to your side. "fuck, fuck, fuck. are you okay?" she asked, making me scoff. "r-really? you're gonna ask me if i'm okay? you literally just killed me. you fucking killed me, i'm gonna die because of your childishness and your stupid hatred towards me!" i yelled, the pain on my stomach eating me up. irene and seokjin started running towards us, "what the fuck?! what the fuck just happened?!" joohyun asked, obviously worrying about me. she looked down at the shattered glass and then looked back up at jisoo, "you did this, didn't you? huh?! you broke my sister's hourglass?! do you fucking know what's going to happen to her?! what the fuck is wrong with you!" she screamed, pushing jisoo harshly. jin pulled her back, trying to calm her down, "i-i'm–"

the bell then rang, making jisoo run off. irene and jin helped me stand up, i looked down at my hourglass sadly. "how long do i have left?" i asked, weakly. "u-usually around a week.." jin replied, sadly. "no, NO! there must be a way to fix it! y/n, you can't fucking die" irene said, tearing up slightly. i chuckled, "it's fine, unnie. i still have a week." she smacked my head, "don't joke around! you're gonna- no, you're not. i swear i'm gonna kill h-"

"no, no, you aren't. she doesn't want me as her soulmate and i understand that." i replied calmly. "y/n, because of her selfish ass, you're dying. i'm not letting you just– fuck. let's just get to class"

no ones pov

the whole day was spent with your friends crying and getting pissed by jisoo. jisoo avoided you the whole day, not even looking at you. the next day of school was just as sad and pathetic, but jisoo was regretting it. so bad.

"guys, there's gotta be a way to undo it. there fucking has to. i-i can't let her die.." jisoo said, crying in her hands. "unnie, why did you do it in the first place?" jennie asked, kind of angry at her older friend. "i-i.. thought that it would make my feelings go away, make me braver.. but it's just killing me inside. i love her and i don't know what to do."

right at that moment, you walked into the cafeteria weakly, holding onto lisa for support. jisoo immediately stood up and ran to you. "y/n!" she engulfed you into a tight hug, making lisa push her away. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?! do you think you can just do that after what you did to her?!"

"i- look, i need to talk to her"

"jisoo, back off. you've caused enough damage and now we're about to lose our friend." yoongi said, calmly. "guys, it's fine. let us talk.." you replied, quietly. the kim silently thanked you, grabbing your hand and bringing you somewhere private.

"talk." you said, strictly. "y/n, you have no idea how sorry i am. the whole thing was just me trying to show myself that i was strong, but it just made me feel and look like a coward. y/n, i love you. i really do and i'm sorry i wasn't able to let you know. i'm trying to do everything i can to fix it, i'm so so sorry, please forgive me"

"jisoo, i'm.. i have 4 days left. we've looked everything up and there's no way to fix it as of now. i- i'm not gonna say i forgive you, but.. i kind of do? i don't know. it's all good–"

"y/n, you're dying. it's not fucking okay! and it's all my fault, i'm- i won't- i can't live without you." you chuckled, making her look up at you. "jisoo, hush. i'm the one who can't live without you,, literally. till then.. let's uhm, have 4 days together?"

"not just 4 days, y/n-"

"jisoo, you need to understand that that's all i have left. there's not possible way to.. un-kill me.. lmao i'm funny." you giggled, making her smack your arm. "y/n! stop joking around! i-i'm gonna find a way, i-i promise."

"as i said a second ago–"

"ayt, talk's over. talk.. later or something, we're going to class." lisa said, dragging you. "b-but we have the same classes–" you started, but lisa ignored you and continued to drag you. "lisa–"

"bye jisoo~" she said, not looking back. the day was spent by lisa dragging you away from jisoo, which kind of irritated you, but you just brushed it off.

the few days after, you were just being your usual and cheerful self, also being able to talk to jisoo. our friend groups kinda merged into one after the two of you kept spending time with each other. "ayt, imma head home." you said, making everyone groan. "no~ just stay for a bit longer." mingi whined. you laughed at him and stood up, "i'll see you guys tomorrow." you said, smiling at them weakly.

'there is no tomorrow' you thought.

"yeah, okay. see you tomorrow, y/n/n! we all love you~ especially jisoo–" johnny said, making jisoo hit his arm. "oh wait, it is true, i don't know why i hit y-"

you kissed the too of jisoo's head, quietly telling her to stop babbling. you hugged and kissed ( cheeks shush ) all of them "bye losers"

"bye~!"

you turned around, grabbing your stuff and rushing off. tears started forming in your eyes knowing that it's your last time seeing them.

during the past few days, you've been trying to be as positive, funny and cheerful as possible. you hoped and wanted it to make your friends forget about your misfortune and short life. tomorrow is your last day, last day of breathing, last day of seeing, last day of hearing, last day of feeling. once tomorrow comes, you will just fade away as if you never existed. your parents and sister knew about it and how you didn't want any of your friends to remember, they respected your wish and kept their lips shut about it.

you arrived at home, your family members immediately bringing you into a tight embrace. "let's get you dressed, sweetie."

you took a shower and got dressed in your favourite hoodie and shorts. your parents and sister teared up whenever they looked at you smiling and laughing, their hearts ached knowing that after tomorrow, they wouldn't be able to hear your adorable and happiness-giving laugh and your beautiful smile that could bring light to universes. once night arrived, they covered you in kisses and showered you with love.

"goodnight, my beautiful star." you father said, caressing your hair as he used to do when you were younger. you smiled at him and held his hand. "goodnight, angel. we'll– we'll see you tomorrow, love." your mother whispered softly, kissing your forehead. "goodnight everyone,, i love you all. so so much" your parents left the room, but your older sister stayed by your side, crying her eyes out. "y/n,"

"unnie, i know. shhh, you'll be fine–" you started, holding her hand. but she cut you off, "no! i won't be okay! y/n, you've been there for me ever since you were born and you complete me. you're my best friend, my baby, my sister. and tomorrow.. i'm gonna lose you forever. do you think i'm gonna be okay after that?!"

tears started building up in your eyes, making you look away. "unnie.. i- i know. i'm so sorry.. i- i don't want to go, you know that. but i'll always be with you. you know that, right?"

"b-but, y/n/n-"

you brought her into a hug, shutting her up. "it's okay.. besides i still have the morning with you–" she slapped your arm, "stop joking around!" you giggled, "yeah okay, now shush and get to sleep."

"goodnight, y/n"

"night, unnie."

—

you woke up, feeling groggy as ever. you slowly got up, making sure not to hurt yourself even more. "morning, loser" your sister greeted, making you flinch in shock. "iM- SINCE WHEN WERE YOU HERE"

"i was waiting for you to get up,, i don't wanna leave without seeing you awake" irene said, sadly. you took her hand and made her look at you, "you've been the greatest sister and best friend i could ever ask for. i love you and i'm always gonna be here with you, now go before you're late for school." she kissed your forehead, caressing your hair. "i love you so much, you loser. take care of me and yourself up there, ayt?"

you nodded, holding your tears back. irene pulled away, walking out of your room. you sighed and went over to spend some time with your parents.

——

the second irene stepped into school, she ran where your friends wouldn't be able to find her. she spent the whole day avoiding them, until the end of the day.

joohyun was sneaking out of school, until your friends finally found her. they crowded her, asking where you were. she started panicking and was having a hard time thinking of an excuse, "uhh.. she's.. just sick. don't worry about it." she replied, making jisoo's brain start working. "FUCK" she pushed everyone out of the way, getting into her car. "fuckfuckfuck, y/n, fuck!"

[ that sounds wrong :( ]

she punched her steering wheel, before speeding off to your house. ,,,

she ran to your door, knocking aggressively. your mother opened the door, her eyes swollen, not knowing who it was, "may i help y-"

"jisoo?"

she observed her godmother, confused as ever, but she let it slide as she needed to see you. "miss bae, please let me see y/n, i-i found a way!" she pleaded, making your mum look at her sadly. "l-look, jisoo–"

"hyeri, let the girl in." your father spoke, making the mentioned lady look back. she nodded and opened the door wider. "thank you so much!" jisoo replied. she ran to your room, opening the door. "y/n, i found a w–"

her heart dropped and stopped when she saw you laying on the bed, pale as ever. "y/n, hey." she said, running to your side and holding your cold hand. your eyes opened slowly, smiling as you saw the girl next to you. "j-jisoo, hey"

"y/n.." she started, tears beginning to form and fall from her eyes. "i-i.. i love you." you whispered, making jisoo shake her head. "nonono, y/n, stop! i-i found a way, i just need some time–" you laughed at her, weakly. "that's one thing i don't have, chu. time. i only have a little bit until–"

"y/n, no! please, i-i swear. i'm gonna–"

"you know one thing i love about us?" you asked, "n-no.." she replied. "how we always cut each other off. it's kinda cute"

she giggled, making you smile. "jisoo, i don't want you to do anything. just.. stay here with me, okay?" she looked at you with such intent, everything she wanted, she needed, she loved, was right in front of her eyes, and she was about to witness her wither away. "o-okay.."

the two sat in silence for two minutes before y/n spoke up. "i love you, jisoo. i forgive you, you know that, right?"

the mentioned girl then broke down, shocking you. "h-hey, i'm sorry, i didn't–" the older girl placed her lips onto yours, spilling at the sadness and pain into the kiss. you kissed back, you smiled slightly, glad that you were able to share your last moments with your soulmate. you pulled away when you felt your mark stinging, "j-jisoo, i-i love y-you–" you squeezed her hand, smiling.

"no, y/n, no.. please no, y/n" she pleaded, holding your hand. your grip started loosening, making her onto you tighter. "baby, no. y/n, h-hey. stay with me. hey"

your eyes started to feel heavy and everything was fading away. "i love you" you whispered, before you took your last breath and your time had come. your hand let go of jisoo's, making her panic. "no, baby, please no," she cried,

your parents heard her sobs, making them barge into the room. their hearts dropped and your father immediately brought your mum into his arms as she sobbed, "my angel, my beautiful angel"

"y/n, please. come back.." she sobbed.

"i love you too"

#blackpink imagines #blackpink x reader #blackpink scenarios #blackpink reactions #blackpink #blackpink jisoo #jisoo x reader #blackpink angst #blackpink fluff #blackpink au #soulmates au #kim jisoo #jisoo

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.18 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has already dealt with the local sheriff about his adventures in the local woods. Seems like Edge might have a thing or three to say.

~~*~~

Read ‘Electric Boogaloo’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was funny how some things become automatic. Stretch was still thinking about Buford when Edge came into the store not long after the sheriff left. Still thinking about those strange white eyes of his, wondering at exactly how much he could see. How much, how far, how deep did it go. Stretch knew a little something himself about seeing a bit too much.

Still, habits were habits. Even though his mind wasn’t necessarily working in the here and now, Stretch automatically stood up straight and greeted Edge when he came in, customer service skills were a heck of a learned trait, even if he was the only one who worked here that had them.

“morning, hey, what’s up? what do you—" need, he didn’t get to say. He barely had time to notice that Edge didn’t look like his normal gorgeous self, hips notwithstanding. Sure, he was wearing his normal motorhuckle gear and he was walking like he was on his way to kill Captain America. But he looked pale, his skull chalk-white and stark, his eye lights faded to a shade closer to dull pink.

That wasn’t what cut off his ‘can i help you’ spiel. Nope, that was Edge stalking right over to the counter and around it into the register area. Stretch found himself roughly pulled into Edge’s arms and held in a painfully tight hug that nearly threatened to crack ribs.

Okay? This was new but fuck it if Stretch wasn’t going to go for it. He wrapped both arms around Edge and squeezed back, relished the feel of that long, lean body against his own, even buffered under a layer of leather. “um. hi?”

Edge said nothing, only held on, with all ten fingers digging in through the back of Stretch’s t-shirt and damned if he was gonna try fight his way loose. Was it his imagination or was Edge shaking a little? Or maybe that was the earth moving under his feet because Edge smelled so good, no bone cologne could compare. Like spice and woodsmoke, like the heavenly pies he made for Mama’s.

Nothing to be done for it, might as well dive into the deep end and see if he could drown. Stretch closed his sockets and basked in it, reveled in it. Maybe this was some weird frosting on top of an already bizarre cake but Stretch really wanted his slice.

After a minute, Edge was showing no signs of letting up and much as Stretch would’ve been perfectly fine standing like this all day, probably he should say something. It’d be pretty hard to run register if he was stuck to Edge like a conjoined twin and considering that they were sort of the same person, maybe better not to risk it.

It was just a damn shame that Stretch was so shitty at digging beneath the layers of other people’s traumas. Hell, he could barely take a shovel to his own.

He managed to work up enough air to wheeze out, “is…something wrong?” A horrible thought occurred. What if he wasn’t the only person the lady ghoul went to visit last night? Maybe she took the nickel tour of the woods, maybe Buford’s all-seeing eye blinked and missed something. “is frisk okay?”

“Yes,” Edge choked out. His voice was muffled into Stretch’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Stretch shifted in his arms and only managed about an inch in any direction. “don’t take this the wrong way, but as fine as this feels, you don’t seem fine.”

That didn’t get any reply. Instead, Edge loosened his grip just enough to press his face into the hollow of Stretch’s collarbone where he inhaled deeply, mouth opened as if he wanted to taste whatever scent gathered there, get the whole experience.

Um. Holy shit. Okay, well, that was a fetish Stretch never knew he had, and if he wasn’t pinned like a sardine in Edge’s kung-fu grip, he might’ve honest to angel flailed at the feel of damp, hot breath against his clavicles. Every time Edge decided to go through his scratch ‘n sniff routine, it sent willie wonkers tingling right up his spine and right down his pants. All he could do was grit his teeth and stare blankly up at the ceiling as he tried desperately not to embarrass himself any more than the usual.

Finally, all too soon, Edge drew away. He took two steps back, putting some distance between them. He seemed almost embarrassed now and Stretch could only reluctantly let him go.

He was really, really grateful for his work apron right about now; good for catching dust and gook, with a side bonus of hiding inconvenient boners. Hopefully it wasn’t the not-at-all-a-pencil-in-his-pocket that chased Edge away. “not that i mind, like, really not, but you think you could let me in on what that was all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, stiffly. He crammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked anywhere but at Stretch.

“uh, nope,” Stretch shook his head, “no apologies, hugs are free real estate.” He’d been this close to Edge before a couple of times but always before there had been distractions. Now looking at him was the distraction and Stretch let his gaze linger on the razer-sharp lines of his cheekbones, the tight narrowing of his eye sockets. The crack that ran through his left socket was obviously old, the edges worn relatively smooth, smoother than their owner.

Edge still didn’t look at him, not directly, anyway. A flick of his eye lights towards Stretch, then back away as he said, tightly. “We came very close to losing you last night. It was…upsetting.”

Oh.

Well, good news traveled fast, didn’t it, basically at the speed of light around these parts. He wondered glumly if Red was in his apartment busily composing a profanity-laden symphony titled ‘I Told You So.’

“How did you know?” Stretch sighed out. Maybe Frisk was tuned in to the local airwaves or Edgar Allen might branch out into branches instead of corn gossip.

“Buford,” Edge admitted. “He is the town constable, he looks after the town. Literally, in his case.”

Also had a big mouth, seemed like. “yeah, uh, he showed me his eyes.”

“Did he?” Edge seemed surprised, then pleased. “He usually wears his sunglasses. He rarely takes them off when he’s on duty because outsiders tend to find his eyes unsettling. But yes, it’s his duty to watch out for problems and he does it well.”

Stretch nodded slowly, “must be tough on him sometimes, seeing all that.” He had a little personal experience in that.

“Buford does his duty,” Edge said with a certain finality. Welp, looked like that topic was done and Stretch was fine with that since Edge was starting to look a little calmer. His eye lights weren’t on Stretch’s but lower, focused more on the mouth region and when Stretch flicked his tongue across his teeth nervously, those crimson lights went heavy and dark.

To his disappointment, Edge didn’t go for Ginormous Hug 2: Electric Boogaloo. Instead, he reeled back, shaking himself visibly and turning towards the door. “Well. I only wanted to check in on you, I should be going.”

“wait!” Stretch blurted and Edge hesitated, raising one browbone. “don’t go, not yet.”

He waved a hand in offering at the stool behind the counter and after a moment of hesitation, Edge stepped around the dog and took it. Mutt never stirred, burrowed down in the blanket Red had laid down for him, snoring away. Good thing they hadn’t been in the market for a guard dog.

Stretch hopped up on the counter to sit, (hey, his butt was cleaner than the whole store had been when he first got here) and wondered what the hell to do now. He’d wanted Edge to stay and now he didn’t know what to talk about. Every other chat they’d had was about some kind of Backwater weirdness, the peanut butter and pickle sandwich version of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to have a white bread and butter chat.

Edge seemed to agree. He swiped a finger along one of the shelves behind the counter and checked the results, finding it to be relatively dust-free. “The store is looking much better since my brother hired you on.”

“yeah,” Stretch latched on to that topic gratefully, it was marginally better than bringing up the weather. “try to keep up on it. he’s paying me well enough for it, plus room and board, figured i can do my mr clean impression.” He gave the top of his skull a pat. “i’ve already got the bald part down.”

Edge made a rough, scoffing sound and even that was somehow delicious in that voice of his. “I suspect most of what fills up your board comes from my kitchen.”

Stretch suspected the same but leapt to his landlord’s defense, anyway, he owned Red that much and more. “hey, red is a damn fine microwave wrangler when he puts his mind to it.” Okay, so that was less of a leap than a trip and miss, but he’d tried. Maybe better to steer the topic boat out of the rapids and into calmer water. “my bro likes to cook, too.”

“Is he very good?” Edge leaned forward curiously, propping his chin up on a hand.

Woah, wait, abandon ship, that was not calmer waters, that was a storm a’brewing, a freaking typhoon. “good is relative,” Stretch said stoutly.

“Ah,” One corner of Edge’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Rest assured, I would never force you to disparage your brother’s cooking. If it’s any comfort, my recipes were somewhat unique when we first came here as well. Like the garden, it took some time for my skills to come into bloom.”

“seriously?” There was a little too much naked relief in that one word but fuck it, Blue wasn’t here to hear it, “so how many years until he’s less ‘nailed it’ and more ‘chef’s table’?”

That half-smile widened. “Time is also relative, as are brothers. How is your brother, I’m assuming he’s still back in Ebott. Have you spoken to him since you came here?”

Welp, he’d avoided the storm only to end up in shark-infested waters, wasn’t that just his luck, “sort of,” Stretch hedged.

Edge’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’ as he successfully decoded that message. “You texted him. Well, that’s better than leaving him completely in the dark.”

“i think he’s doing okay. he was even before i left.” He really hoped so, but then, Blue settled in easily enough from the start. From the Human’s perspective, his bro looked a little like he’d stepped out of some kind of cartoon. He was small and adorable, his starry eye lights in his huge sockets were as cute as if Disney blessed him from beyond the grave. Stretch didn’t begrudge his brother for that, ‘course he didn’t, but that didn’t make his own experiences easy cheesy. “frisk was pretty right about ebott. when it comes to monsters, it sure isn’t backwater.”

“I’m sorry.” Said with enough quiet sincerity to make Stretch shift uncomfortably.

He shrugged weakly. “eh, not your fault.”

“No, but I can still let you share your pains.” Edge reached up and took his hand. He rubbed a scarred thumb gently over his knuckles and Stretch caught his breath. “You know, I used to dream about coming to the surface. Back in my world, in the Underground. Frisk told you that it was a place of LV, not love. My brother and I spent much of our time there simply struggling to survive.” The reminiscence in Edge’s voice held no hint of fondness, but there was a certain faint wistfulness. “I had such grand dreams of what the surface world would be like back then. Hope was difficult to come by in my universe, I never truly believed a human would come and when they did, well.” Edge chuckled and there was the fondness missing from before. “Frisk was not at all what I imagined.”

“did the surface world live up to your dreams?” Stretch asked, curiously. His own dreams of the Aboveground were shaken to their foundations barely an hour into the sunlight, when the first Humans to arrive greeted them not with welcome, but with automatic rifles.

“In some ways,” Edge said. “Mostly, it’s very different from what I imagine. But like Frisk, not necessarily in a bad way.”

“ebott is sure fucking different then i imagined,” Stretch only realized how hard he was squeezing Edge’s hand when both of their joints popped. He loosened his grip, then pulled away entirely, picking up the pen from the counter to fiddle with; at least if he broke that, he’d be the only one stained. “doesn’t matter, anyway. i’m not there right now, am i.”

“Indeed not. You’re here, and Backwater is probably as different from Ebott as it is the Underground.” Edge stood in a jangling, creaking rhapsody of leather and buckles. “On that note, I do need to get going.”

Stretch stood too, hopping down from the counter. Much as he’d like Edge to stay, he did have some work to get done and who knew what Edge needed to get back to. “thank you for checking in on me.”

“Of course.” Too fast for Stretch to do more than blink, Edge leaned in and Stretch stood frozen as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, the delicate scrape of his teeth almost ticklish against sensitive bone. He pulled back before Stretch managed to gather up all his scattered wits, and his smile was the soft, real one as he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“soon,” Stretch parroted dumbly. He stood there like an idiot and watched Edge leave, only coming back to himself at the jangle of the bell over the door. Then he cursed himself, roundly and in every language he knew, including modified flamespeak. Smooth moves, there, Marvin Gaye, couldn’t even turn your head for a real kiss? Just stood there with crotch plug store book and didn’t even try to kick it up a notch? But he’d gotten one hell of a hug and a hand fondle, that was worth nearly getting eaten by Lady Cthulhu out there.

Well, almost.

“mind not getting your sop all over my counter?”

Stretch whirled around, barely managing not to trip over his own feet, to see Red standing in the hallway entrance. He was leaning heavily on his cane with a brutally unimpressed look on his face.

Fuck.

“i’m sorry—” Stretch began and faltered, unsure of what to say. He’d tried to listen to Red, he really had. He’d warned Stretch against starting anything with his bro from the beginning, offered plenty of warnings against rebound fucks and people getting hurt, and Stretch had tried. Except he hadn’t, had he, not really, and he could try to blame Edge’s hips and that gorgeous voice all he wanted; in the end, it was his fault, just like everything else. He hadn’t really been fighting that hard, why would he, it wasn’t like he wanted to win.

Red only sighed heavily and waved him off. “ain’t nothing to be sorry for. toldja before, i ain’t worried about my bro. you’re the one keepin’ me awake at night.”

“speaking of worrying,” Stretch took a deep breath before plunging forward, away from the sharks and heading into the shallows where the piranhas swam. “look, before anyone else decides to spill the beans, i need to tell you something.”

Red held up a hand and Stretch fell silent. “lemme get my coffee first.”

Coffee sounded better than it had any right to and, in his chest, Stretch’s soul gave an uncomfortable lurch like it could hop out and get a cup of its own. Hopefully, he asked, “can i get some?”

“yeah, sure,” Red turned back towards the apartment and tossed back over his shoulder, “whatcha want in it?”

“honey?” May as well dream big.

“yeah, darlin’?”

What? ”No!” Stretch blurted. “I mean…I didn’t…”

“yeah, yeah,” Red snickered. “i gotcha, brat.”

It was both entirely too long and much too quickly that Red made his way back with two heavy white mugs that looked as if they’d been stolen from Mama’s diner. He handed one to Stretch and settled in to lean against the counter, sipping from his own. “so, this about why you and my bro were cozying up behind the counter?”

“uh, sort of,” Stretch hedged. He stalled by taking a sip of his coffee, glorying in the thick, over-sweetened brew. “he came by because buford got a hold of him.”

Red lurched upright as if someone goosed him right on his tailbone. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand and he hissed, shaking his wet, stinging fingers as he demanded, “he did what now? what the fuck happened?”

“it’s not that bad.”

It was a weak attempt at best, not that it mattered. Red didn’t fall for it in the slightest. He didn’t move, there was no noticeable change in his breathing or posture, but the sardonic humor that seemed to cling to Red like another shirt evaporated entirely and left behind nothing but cold sincerity. “buford don’t exactly text, he don’t get ahold of anyone unless—” Red stopped and gave Stretch a coolly assessing glance that he squirmed beneath. Quietly, he said, “kid, what did you do?”

“i didn’t do it!” Stretch blurted and no amount of defending himself to his own brother or even the Ebott police could have prepared him for this. “the dog ran off, but i didn’t go into the woods! not until—there was this…this thing!” Stretch gestured wildly, trying ineffectively to convey with skinny bone hands the shadowy, awful creature that lured him into the dark last night. He couldn’t hold back a shudder of revulsion, simply thinking about it was filling him with a renewed sense of horror. “it looked like a woman and then it didn’t, she was singing, she was doing something, and i couldn’t stop myself, i couldn’t even think!”

He stopped, panting, and Red said nothing. He only stood there statue-still and Stretch would have given about anything for the door to open, the bell to jangle as someone looking for a fresh supply of ass wipers broke that awful silence.

Desperately, Stretch pressed on, letting out a nervous laugh. “anyway, i’m okay. she didn’t touch me or bite me or anything. i got out okay.” He didn’t mention the bone dragon, wasn’t even sure why, but Red was still frozen and silent over hearing about one terrifying encounter, maybe better not to mention two.

“red?” Stretch tried, hating how his voice sounded so small and forlorn. In a dismal corner of his mind, he was already mentally packing his bags. He couldn’t go back to Ebott, not now, not yet, but where else could he go, what other job could he possibly find? Maybe a waiter at Mama’s or maybe the thrift shop needed a helping hand. He didn’t know. The little money he had wouldn’t last long and definitely not in a bigger city. He didn’t really have any options, no choices at all.

He jerked back as Red suddenly jolted into movement, limping around the counter without his cane. He staggered almost drunkenly and then swung around to violently ram his fist into the first rack of the shelves. The wooden frame rocked and groaned, scattering boxes and cans to the floor on either side. A small bag of cornmeal fell and burst open, scattering dusty yellow across the floorboards.

“i…i’ll just…” Stretch couldn’t say go, he couldn’t, saying it would make this real, and he couldn’t let it be real. He took a step towards the hallway, tasting heavy tears on the back of his tongue.

Red’s voice stopped him, “kid.”

Stretch stood there and watched Red wrap both arms around himself. The fingers of one hand were streaked with marrow, he’d probably cracked his phalanges, but Red only shuddered faintly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a shaky rattle as he said, “if i’d’ve known she was awake, i woulda warned ya.”

Oh.

Oh, that made a terrible amount of sense and it didn’t make Stretch feel one fucking bit better to realize that Red wasn’t mad at him.

“it’s fine, red,” Stretch said, gently. It was hard to bank his own fears, but he managed, “it’s not your fault. i’m okay.”

Red heaved out a hitching little sigh and Stretch didn’t need Buford’s powers or his own magic to see that Red didn’t believe that, not even a little.

“okay,” he muttered under his breath, low and indistinct, “okay, okay.” Then louder, “okay, kid, get on out of here.”

“you’re firing me?” Stretch blurted, horrified. He’d begun to believe it was all right, more fool he, hadn’t he had the rug ripped out from under him enough times by now, when would he ever learn?

“what?” Red said, aghast. “fuck no! take a little time off, is all, after a shitty night like that, you need it. go see a movie, ‘wizard of oz’ ’s playin’, think it’ll be right up your alley.”

Relief left him weak, but he made no move towards the door. “but. your hand?”

“what about my hand?” Red raised his browbones and his hand at once and Stretch stared at the clean, pristine bones in confusion, what the fuck, he was sure he’d seen—

“okay, but,” Stretch still didn’t want to leave, some part of him vaguely convinced that if he left he wouldn’t be able to come back, like this shabby little store was some kind of fae place. “here, let me clean up.”

“i can fucking clean,” Red said impatiently. “been doing it since long before you got here.” He hooked his perfectly unbroken thumb at the door, “now, git! scoot!”

It seemed better not to comment on Red’s cleaning skills. Stretch hung up his apron and obediently scooted while Red limped over to the broom.

Outside, the temperature was just above a swelter. Stretch headed towards the theater even as the kids pulled up by the shop and dropped their bikes to head in, about five minutes too late.

Red had the right idea, he decided tiredly. A movie sounded like a good idea right about now. If, that was, he could stay awake through the opening credits.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

#jjba #ask-c-c-cherry #headcanons #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #bucci gang #giorno giovanna

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deviltrs · 4 years

Note

Hear me out: Reddie on a “date” to a fair (it’s a date in eddies mind but richie is clueless) [i will die on the Richie being clueless on occasion hill if I have to ]

i see you AND i hear you, anon. 100%

tbh i HC richie is pretty oblivious when it comes to dating, dates and eddie’s blatantly obvious feelings for him LMAOO

so i kinda set it in HS?? and its like 1992-1993, so they’re about 16-17.

i hope you enjoy anon! i’m sorry if it sucks a little bit (or a lot)

i haven't written anything publicly for a HOT minute and definitely need to brush up a little bit on my writing skills

and i’m also sorry if they’re really OOC, i’m still learning and trying my best.

NONE OF THIS WAS PROOFREAD SORRY LMAO

---

Eddie invites him to the towns annual fall festival. Just the two of us, he’d said on the phone yesterday.

Richie could never deny Eddie much of anything, so he immediately agreed. The idea of the two of them hanging out alone, oddly enough, makes him feel like there are butterflies in his stomach. He shrugs it off, as he’s done for the past three or four years, and he goes through the rest of his day, anxiously awaiting the next.

And that’s where he is now. With Eddie, at the festival.

Everything’s fine, so he doesn’t know why he’s freaking out so bad. Honestly, everything’s more than fine. Richie buys him an ice cream, and for once, Eddie doesn’t go on a full-blown rant about Richie spending his money on him when he’s perfectly capable of paying for himself.

Eddie doesn’t shrug his arm off when Richie throws it around his shoulders while they’re walking towards the games, either. He leans in a little closer, actually, which feels like it sends a jolt of lightning straight through every fiber of Richie’s being.

He’s just... all smiles, no rants, no freak-outs. A few insults or two, though, because that’s just how Eddie is, and Richie wouldn’t have it any other way. But... it’s weird not to see him reaching for his fake inhaler to ease his nerves, or thoroughly sanitizing his hands after he touches everything. He’s been like that all day, too. Didn’t even complain about the god awful mess in Richie’s car when he got in.

Now, as it begins to get darker outside, he’s sitting down right across from him at a picnic table, sharing a funnel cake. Their hands have brushed once or twice, and Eddie’s even wiped some powdered sugar off of the side of Richie’s mouth, and he isn’t even going to think about how red his face fucking got when that happened.

“Earth to Richie!” he hears Eddie yell.

He blinks once, twice, three times, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that kept him so in his head, and turns and flashes a big smile in Eddie’s direction.

“What ‘s it, Spaghetti?” Richie replies, reaching for several pieces of the funnel cake and plopping all of them in his mouth at once. “‘S there anything you wanna do?” he asks in-between chewing, and Eddie visibly grimaces.

“Say it, don’t fucking spray it, dickwad. You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Eddie complains, and Richie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t chewing his food. “And chew with your mouth closed! Jesus Christ, who taught you your table manners?”

After Richie swallows his food, he takes a large gulp from his Coca Cola and shrugs. “I was raised by apes, they taught me everything I know about manners, Eds.” he teases.

He gets a small laugh out of Eddie at that one, along with an eye-roll. “Very funny. And don’t call me that, Richie!” Eddie replies, reaching across the table to give Richie’s shoulder a small shove. Richie laughs, now that his mouth isn’t full, and shakes his head.

“Don’t lie, you like when I call you Eds.”

Eddie blushes? Richie thinks he is, anyways. But why the hell would Eddie be blushing?

Eddie’s voice snaps him out of it before he can dwell too much into it. “Whatever you say.” he grumbles, reaching and grabbing the last piece of their shared funnel cake. He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth when he’s done, and he doesn’t even give Richie time to speak before he’s talking again.

“Do you want to get on the ferris wheel? It’s getting darker, so we can see all the lights better.” he speaks hurriedly, pointing over towards where the ferris wheel sits, spinning as they sit a little ways away from it. The lights are coming on, now, on all the attractions. Shades of pink and purple, red and blue, green and yellow. They’re bright, but they light up Eddie’s face in just the right way to make Richie think god, he’s beautiful.

“Sure, let’s get to it, Eduardo!” Richie replies, loudly, standing on his feet. He grabs their trash and throws it away in the nearest trashcan, and walks back over towards Eddie, who grabs his fucking hand and starts walking towards the ferris wheel.

He starts to wonder if this is even Eddie, because it dawns on him that Eddie doesn’t even like festival rides. They’re covered in bacteria and germs, dumbass, he’d usually say. But that isn’t the case this evening, apparently, because Eddie is smiling as they approach it, grabbing his tickets from his back pocket and handing two to Richie.

“You know I have my own, right?” Richie asks, but Eddie just shakes his head.

“You used at least ten tickets on that darts game until you won me that stuffed Kirby. Shut up and let me be nice to you.” Eddie retorts, and Richie does as he’s asked. He mimics zipping up his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, which gets a small chuckle out of Eddie. He counts that as a win, so long as he sees Eddie laughing, at least.

Spoiler alert: he doesn’t shut up. He doesn’t know how.

Eventually, after bickering back in forth in line about everything they could think of, they’re finally getting on the ferris wheel, being seated and secured in before they take off and are stopped again.

Eddie turns to Richie, his hands on the handlebar, looking as content as ever. “Thank you for saying yes when I asked you out on this date. I know it was kinda stupid to ask you over the phone, but-- whatever. Thank you, asshole. I’m having a great time.”

Richie feels like his jaw has dropped.

Asked him out on what?

“You-- me-- date? What? Since when?” Richie stammers, and Eddie’s brows furrow. His face becomes redder than the top of the haunted house’s tent.

“You didn’t know this was a date?” Eddie asks, and Richie shakes his head repeatedly.

“No! You didn’t say anything about a date!”

“I literally fucking said it was!”

“No, you said ‘Hey, do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us’ and that is not asking me out on a date!”

“I said ‘Do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us,’ emphasis on go out with me, and that was literally me asking you on a date, dumbass!”

Richie processes.

And processes.

And processes some more.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m on a date with you.” Richie says, blank faced. On the inside he’s screaming with absolute joy.

“Yeah, you are, dumbass. You-- forget I said anything--”

Richie interrupts him, quickly, “No, no! I’m not like-- freaked out about it or anything. I’m happy to go on a date with a cutie like you, Eds!” he says, leaning towards Eddie and pinching his cheek affectionately.

Eddie swats his hand away, blushing and grumbling, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “Do you-- fuck, do you like me, Rich? I mean, I-- I’m obviously into you.”

Richie nods, very enthusiastically, and smiles wider than he ever has when one of Eddie’s hands come off of the handlebar to grab one of his. “Absolutely, Eds, I mean-- how could I not? You’re my best friend. And, also, you’re so easy to piss off and rile up. It’s fuckin’ cute!” he says, smile never falling from his face.

“I am not easy to rile up, you dick.” Eddie argues, but his tone holds no distaste or actual anger within it.

So Richie, being Richie, shakes the passenger car they’re in as soon as the wheel takes motion again to prove a point, and Eddie screeches. “You fucking dick! Why the hell would you do that? Do you know how many deaths have happened because of people rocking these fucking things?” he yells, and Richie lets out a full belly laugh.

“Oh, it’s so fucking funny, isn’t it? Do you want to die on a ferris wheel in this shit town? Do you--”

Richie finally makes a move, and decides to shut Eddie up with a kiss.

It works.

#reddie #reddie prompts #kt's shitty writing #please don't come at me it's 4AM and i tried to get this done quickly #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it fandom #it 2017 #teen reddie

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roman-writing · 4 years

Text

the spectres vain (2/2)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton / Jamie / Viola Lloyd

Rating: M

Wordcount: 6,525

Summary: She had said before, ‘so many people mix up love and possession,’ and now years later she wondered if that was the reason why they had been given so much time. That maybe Viola thought this was love. That maybe she loved this. Loved her. Loved them.

Content advisory: spoilers, horror, and ghost smut

read it here on AO3 or read it below

“The night isn’t dark; the world is dark. Stay with me a little longer.”

-‘Departure’, Louise Gluck

"I really thought this would go away. But it just hasn't."

They were sitting in a cheap diner, their local favourite down the road. Jamie had already received her meal -- an omelette with a cup of coffee and a side of toast, all of which was going to be far too much for her to eat; she never would get used to the size of American meals -- but Dani had yet to receive her own. Jamie paused in the act of picking up her knife and fork. Dani's eyes were glued to her meal, like a starving man who had seen food for the first time in weeks.

"What would go away? Food?" Jamie asked. She slowly passed the knife and fork between her hands -- clink of chipped cutlery -- and began to eat.

"Yeah."

Dani tore her gaze away from Jamie's plate and instead focused on the salt and pepper shakers between them, bracketing the serviette dispenser like little guardsmen. She was sitting on her hands, as though that were the only thing keeping herself from snatching Jamie's food away for herself. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth.

"I mean, I've always liked food. But after -" She made a nodding motion with her head. "- anyway after, it was like I'd never tasted food before in my life. It was so strange. Everything tasted so sweet. I could hardly choke down a cup of apple juice. And a cheeseburger? I thought that I'd died the first time I bit into one. All that sauce."

Dani trailed off. She was frowning contemplatively at her scratched reflection in the chrome-plated dispenser.

Jamie shoved a mouthful of omelette into her mouth and spoke gracelessly around it. "Always thought American food was too sweet, myself. Maybe you got used to Owen's cooking over in England."

Dani gave her a look. "You know that's not why."

"Yeah, I know." Jamie finished chewing, already cutting up another piece and loading up the back of her fork with her knife. "I noticed the appetite change, of course."

"Mmm." Dani nodded. Her mouth was twisted to one side; she was chewing the inside of her cheek and sneaking glances at her wristwatch as though even the ten minute wait was too long for her to bear. "But it just -- it hasn't gone away. It's more bearable now. I still struggle with cake that's really sugary or has too much icing. But food is -- well, it's an experience. Every time."

Jamie made a noise in the back of her throat; her mouth was too full for even her to speak. She finished her bite, and then said, "Anything in particular you two have been craving?"

If anything, Dani seemed startled by the question. The thoughtful groove in her brow deepened, before she answered, "Tarte au citron. She used to love lemons. Anything sour. Not too sweet. Always a hint of bite."

Nodding slowly, Jamie said, "Yeah, all right. We can make do with that. And what about you? Do you like sour things?"

Dani's mouth opened to answer, but before she could say anything, the waitress came by and placed an enormous cheeseburger with all the trimmings in front of her -- bacon, extra cheese and gherkin, the whole lot. "Thank you so much."

The waitress had hardly taken two steps away before Dani descended upon her meal. The cheeseburger was in her hands and then in her mouth in a flash. She took a large bite, and juice dripped all down her fingers. As Dani chewed, she moaned softly, eyes shut in rapture. “God,” she mumbled. “That’s so good.”

Jamie lifted her eyebrows and coughed discreetly. “Blimey. Do you two need a room?”

Dani nodded and took another bite. Jamie laughed, and she could see the way Dani's mouth curled into a smile even as her cheeks bulged.

Later that week, Jamie was passing by a bakery on her way back to their florist's shop. She stopped and peered through the window. All of the baker's wares were on neat display, ranging from little fancies to proud cakes dusted with chocolate shavings.

And there, near the middle, a row of lemon tarts the size of her hand.

When she returned to the florist's shop, the bell attached to the door by a string announced her arrival, along with her accompanying bellow, "I'm back! I see you didn't burn the place down in my absence! Well done, love!"

It was a Saturday, and the sign turned to 'CLOSED' on the door bounced when she shut it. The sound of footsteps drummed down the stairs, and Dani's legs appeared as she descended the steps. "Oh, hey! How'd the bank go?"

"The usual." Jamie walked forward to the countertop with the cash register. "All their old farts with all their old money. And some money that isn't theirs either."

"Uh huh," Dani said. "And the loan?"

Jamie lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "Sounded like they were impressed by the little talk you had with them last week about tenants and estate management.”

Dani’s face split into a wide smile. “Really? They’re going to give us the money to buy the shop instead of rent?”

“And the apartment, too,” Jamie said, and she couldn’t help it either. Her own grin broadened. “Anyway, I got you something."

She held out a plain brown wax-paper bag. Dani blinked, and took it.

"Oh, thanks, I was just thinking about -" Dani's voice slowed, then stopped. Her smile lessened slightly, when she opened the bag and saw what it contained. A perfect lemon tart with a dash of cream that had been only slightly smushed on Jamie's walk home. "Oh."

Without a word, Jamie pulled from her back pocket the plastic fork that had come with it. "Go on, then. Let's see how it compares to 16-whatever."

For a long moment Dani fiddled with the plastic fork. It were as though she were standing at the edge of a dock, readying herself for a plunge into icy waters. And then with a brave smile towards Jamie, she cut herself a piece and took a bite.

Jamie wondered what it must have been like. Dani's eyes were closed. She looked utterly transported.

"Good?"

Dani opened her eyes again and nodded. "So, so good."

"Yeah?" Jamie leaned her elbows upon the countertop, watching as Dani went in for another bite. "Better or worse than 16-who-even-cares?"

Dani hummed around the fork in her mouth. Pulling it free and chewing, she said, "Better. Way better."

"Why d'you think that is?"

"It's -" Dani went quiet for a moment as she continued to eat, mulling over every morsel. "It's smoother. Richer. Tarter. More depth of flavour."

"Is that the ingredients talking? Or the fact that you've been stuck in a lake without a body for five-hundred years?"

Dani went very still. After a pause she kept chewing. “A bit of both, I think.” She swallowed, then took a deep breath and looked Jamie dead in the eye. “It’s still me, you know. I’m still me.”

Jamie smiled at her. “I know, Poppins. I know.”

When Dani held out the next forkful to her, she let herself be fed. And indeed, she’d been right. Smooth. Rich. Tart. And a depth of flavour.

At some point -- she could not say exactly when -- Jamie began doing things explicitly thinking of not just what Dani might like, but what Viola might also like.

She read old books. She asked a friend of a friend who went to university to study textile history for any hints of seventeenth century culture. Anything at all so long as it was between the years of 1645 and 1680. (She knew the dates perfectly, but she wasn’t about to let Viola know that. Couldn’t have their evil aristocratic ghost getting all uppity on them, could they?)

She grew specialty plants. She bought specialty food. She gave her clothes and jewelry, little trinkets, only what she could afford. Dani loved them all.

And Viola -- well, Viola was a mystery.

"Did you know that our very own Viola may very well have met Oliver Cromwell?"

Beside her in bed, Dani shifted and the mattress springs creaked beneath her weight. "Are you doing research on my ghost?"

In answer Jamie pointed at the place in the book she was reading and said, "In the year 1658 the daughters of one Mister Willoughby, Viola and Perdita, visited Court, aged fifteen and ten respectively. There they paid their respects and stayed for a few months in a London residence, before returning to the family estate." Jamie set the book down on her legs. "Do you think she actually met him? No. They couldn't have. The Lloyds weren't that reputable, were they?"

"She did," Dani said in a hollow tone. She was staring into the middle distance again, her expression slack.

"Oh, yeah?" Jamie asked. "She want me to know that, does she?"

Still gazing off into space, Dani nodded.

Jamie gestured with the open book. "Noted." She tried to go back to reading, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Okay, what was he like? Good ol' Ironsides?"

"Cold." Dani's eyelids fluttered and she seemed to come to herself. She cleared her throat, but continued, "And he was so critical of her nice new clothes. But she had the last laugh in the end."

Jamie snickered. "Sounds about right."

“He died that same year. Right after they’d visited,” Dani said. “She thought his beheading later was very funny.”

Hearing that, Jamie’s eyes widened. "Holy shit. Wait. Was Viola a secret Catholic?"

Dani scowled darkly at her. The air of their bedroom seemed suddenly colder.

"Whoops. Personal question, then?" Jamie held her hands together in mock supplication and thickened her accent. "A thousand pardons, m'lud."

With a snort of laughter, Dani pushed Jamie's hands down, but paused to lean forward for a quick peck on the mouth.

Sometimes Jamie felt like she was stalking a dead woman. Constantly trying to figure out what Viola might like, what might entice her to stay. And then worrying that perhaps it meant Dani was losing a bit of herself everyday. Like a coin rubbed smooth over the years, until the minted face was indistinguishable. One replacing the other. Or perhaps more like losing the line that separated them. Until she could no longer tell where Dani ended and Viola began.

Yet in time Jamie learned she would do anything if it meant that Dani was here by her side. Every action. Every game pie. Every tight-armed hug. ‘Don’t go. Stay with me. Just for today. Just one more day.’

And every time, Dani caught her eye and smiled as though she had heard the unspoken words, as though they had rung about in the pull-down attic of their little apartment. And every time she would reach out to squeeze Jamie’s hand, and pull her into a reassuring kiss.

Americans, Jamie had learned since living here, were obsessed with Halloween. Personally, she didn’t see the appeal. Now, lighting up the effigy of a Catholic who had once attempted to blow up Parliament? That was more her cup of tea.

Still, when in Rome...And the few friends they had made along the way had invited her to a costume party in town. It would be churlish to decline. They needed more friends. Friends that weren’t linked to a shared trauma.

Besides, as it turned out her friend’s friend at university studying textile history was also an amateur seamstress, and had a few period-accurate pieces that fit without too much trouble. Just a bit nipped in at the waist and -- done. Jamie was set for a ball, or whatever the appropriate equivalent would’ve been called.

“Hey, Jamie, could you help me with this wig? It’s being a real pain in the -”

Dani emerged from their bathroom, half dressed in a Bride of Frankenstein white dress outfit, and froze. It was an hour or so before they were set to leave on the night, and Jamie was in their bedroom draped in a seventeenth century gown, seated on the mattress, a thorn-stripped rose in hand. Dani dropped the aforementioned wig to the ground and stared.

“Too much?” Jamie asked. She adjusted the puffy sleeves so that they sat lower on her arms, revealing more of her chest. “I don’t think it suits me, and I was going to go for a bloke’s outfit instead, but she insisted that -”

“No,” Dani breathed, shaking her head. “No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Well, I knew that, obviously.” Jamie winked. Then she made a shooing gesture with the rose, rising from the bed and walking towards Dani. “Now, c’mon! Let’s get that zig-zag wig of yours on. We’re going to be late.”

Dani stepped to one side to block the exit. Her gaze was dark and fixed, unblinking, upon Jamie’s outfit. “I was wrong, actually. What I said just now.”

“What? About me being perfect?” Jamie joked.

“No, not that. It’s just -” Dani reached out with a tentative hand and her fingers were trembling. She thumbed an edge of the dress at Jamie’s sleeve, testing the rose-coloured silk there. “It’s the wrong colour. You should be in green. Laurel as a crown.”

“Thanks?” Jamie said uncertainly.

Dani stepped closer. With her application of make-up and her pale flowing dress, she seemed more like a ghost than ever. Her hands were on Jamie’s upper arms now, stroking the fabric, following the line of the stomacher’s seams until they rested at Jamie’s narrowed waist.

Dani swallowed, and her voice sounded strained when she asked, “Are you wearing a pair of bodies?”

Jamie huffed with nervous laughter. “Am I wearing a -? What?”

As if coming to herself, Dani blinked and shook her head quickly. “I mean - uh - stays. Uh - What’s the name now? - a corset. Are you wearing a corset?”

“Yeah. And all the petticoats and frills.” Jamie straightened theatrically and tried to stretch her shoulders. “Bloody uncomfortable, too. I tell you what.”

Any attempt to break Dani out of this spell with humour seemed futile, however. She was tracing the metallic gold thread of Jamie’s stomacher with greedy fingertips. “What exquisite passementerie.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said haltingly. She was being guided back towards the bed, their steps slow. “The girl I borrowed this from is into the real deal. Wanted to make it as authentic as possible. I’m guessing she passed with flying colours?”

Wordlessly, Dani nodded. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, her mouth painted a bold and bloody red. Her hands curled into fists, bunching up the skirts at Jamie’s hips as though she wanted to tear the cloth from her, only for her touch to slacken, and her palms to smooth down that same fabric like a caress.

Dani continued walking them towards the bed. “I don’t know exactly what’s happening right now, but I really really want you.”

Whatever reaction Jamie had been expecting, it hadn’t been this. Dani hadn’t blinked for what seemed like an age, and she held herself rigidly, every movement twitchy, as though she couldn’t quite remember how to control her muscles properly.

“Can I -?” Dani started to ask, fingers already slipping towards the laces at Jamie’s front.

Jamie lifted the rose between them and used it to bop Dani gently on the forehead. “‘Course you can, Poppins. So long as it’s still you in there.”

Dani blinked furiously and her head jerked back. Then she laughed softly. “Yeah. I’m - I’m here, too.”

Jamie’s mouth curled in a smirk. “All right, then.” She tossed the rose onto the ground, and reached to the laces that held the gown in place. “Help me out of this thing.”

“No.” Dani grabbed her wrists and held them firmly in place. She shut her eyes for a quick moment, shaking her head back and forth. “Not yet.”

“I thought you said -?”

“I know. And I do. Just -- slowly.”

Jamie stared, searching Dani's face for some hint of her there, but her eyes were still tightly shut, and her fingers were pressed coldly around Jamie's wrists.

"All right," Jamie said. "What do you want me to do?"

Dani's eyes opened then, and her gaze was piercing as a shot in the night. She let go of Jamie, stroking her wrists in silent apology, then said, "Be still."

Jamie lowered her arms, then tried her best to not move at all. A long silent moment stretched between them like a bolt of cloth flaring across a table for measuring. The muscles of Dani's face leapt, then settled, and it were as though the nervous energy ran right out of her to pool at their feet. She straightened to impeccable posture, and her expression was nothing but hunger.

It came as a shock, when Dani first tugged at the strings at Jamie's chest. Clever fingers, accustomed to such garments, worked the laces loose, criss by cross. When the gown had slackened just enough that it began to part from the under layers, she stopped. She brought her hands around, and dipped her fingers along the gap created between silk and cotton, running a line between them all the way from one of Jamie's shoulders, across her chest, to her opposite arm.

When her fingertips trailed across Jamie's collarbone to rest against her sternum, it felt like there was another set dragging along after them. Twin touches mirroring every movement of the other, until suddenly they weren’t. Dani leaned forward, and though her hand remained at the hollow of Jamie’s throat, Jamie could feel an icy caress continue to graze her warm skin.

Then Dani was kissing her neck. Jamie tilted her head to one side, only for some other presence to nudge it back upright. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a second pair of lips against her throat. She swallowed, neck craned back, and teeth scraped against the sensitive skin there, harder than Dani would have ever bitten, hard enough to make her jolt. From the corner of her vision she swore she could almost see another figure shrouded in white, but when her eyes darted in that direction, there was nothing.

When Dani felt a hand reach around her throat, she stiffened. "No," she said. "Not around my neck."

Immediately Dani went very still against her, and the hand withdrew. "Sorry. Better?"

Jamie nodded mutely, but could not bring herself to relax. Not when those pairs of hands had moved to part the robe gown from her front. The ruffled bunch of rose-coloured silk dropped to the mattress just behind her in a rustle. Dani was kissing her mouth now, a long deep drawn out kiss, cupping Jamie's cheeks between both hands, but something was still expertly reaching beneath a layer and untying the ribbons that held the padded pillow around her waist under the over skirt, until that, too, was dropped to the floor.

That phantom touch roved, then began to trace the intricate patterns of the stomacher again. There was more strength behind the caress now. As though, the person responsible were gaining confidence, or perhaps becoming more grounded in reality. The warm lamplight on the bedside table behind them cast too many shadows, and over Dani's shoulder Jamie could clearly see the silhouette of three people instead of two.

Those hands pressed against the seams of the stomacher, and Jamie broke off the kiss to gasp, "Careful. There are pins holding that in place."

"I know," Dani murmured against the side of her mouth. The hands passed right over the pins, leaving them in place. "I don't want it off."

"And miss out on all the fun?"

There was a certain steely coldness about Dani's answering smile. "Who said anything about that? Now,” she pressed gently at Jamie’s sternum. “Lie down.”

Jamie dropped onto the mattress, which bounced slightly beneath her weight. She made to shuffle up towards the headboard, but stopped when Dani sank to her knees before her. And yet, there was a dip in the mattress on either side of her. The blankets bunched up at four points as though beneath another weight. Jamie held her breath and let herself lie completely flat with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. The air above her was thick and cold and almost solid. It felt like lying at the bottom of a lake and staring up at the watery surface overhead.

She could feel Dani pushing up the over skirt and petticoat and whatever other layers there were. Jamie had been told the names of each one at the time, but hadn't paid much attention then. Now, she wished she had. Now, Dani was running her hands along each one in turn, slowly sliding them up to Jamie's hips.

Something tugged at one of the black ribbon garters just above Jamie's knees, which kept those long white stockings in place. Then Dani was sliding the left stocking down her leg, pausing to press a kiss to each patch of bare exposed skin. She shivered. As Dani removed the first stocking and moved to the second, Jamie felt a kiss at her neck again. The suddenness of it made her twitch. She reached out, but her hands passed right through the air above her. A pair of hands gripped her wrists and pinned them down to the bed.

Jamie made a noise in the back of her throat. Dani paused, and the grip around Jamie's wrists slackened just fractionally until it became clear that she wasn't fighting back.

Once the final stocking was removed, Dani pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Jamie's inner thigh. Jamie squirmed. Though Dani’s head was only barely visible between her legs, Jamie could not escape the feeling of someone staring intently at her. Dani’s mouth worked its way up and up and -- Jamie hissed, shutting her eyes and clenching her teeth. While the rest of her was cold, Dani’s tongue was a length of heat, licking long warm stripes and small circles.

With a moan Jamie’s hands jerked, instinctively going to grab Dani’s head, but she was held back, tethered down by an invisible ghost that lingered over her like a dream. There came the sensation of something drawing closer, a draught of cold air that drifted across her face, and Jamie’s eyes flew open.

If she focused, she could almost see the monochromatic shape. Dark locks of hair dripped down past her head and puddled on the surrounding bedsheets. Viola was crouched over her in all her former glory. Sparkle of light glinting against the pearls at her throat. A rich cool and satisfied smile. Dark weathers for eyes. The cat that had caught the canary in its claws. She leaned down and kissed Jamie, and her mouth was full and soft, and thin and hard all at once, demanding, unrelenting.

Viola pulled away. She lifted one satin-gloved hand and stroked Jamie’s cheek. “Such a pretty thing.”

Her voice was a hoarse echo across space and time. Dani slipped two fingers into her, and Jamie had to bite back a whimper, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Look at me.”

With a hitched breath as Dani’s tongue worked against her, Jamie struggled to open her eyes, to keep her hips still.

“That’s it, darling,” Viola smiled, and her face began to melt, like a painting that dripped with wax. “Come for me.”

Jamie’s back arched, her head turning against the sheets. She came with a whine that escaped in spite of herself, and it seemed to go on for ages, until she trembled and jerked her hips away. Layers of cotton and silk stuck to her skin with a thin sheen of sweat. Hastily Dani clambered up to take Viola’s place, hands on Jamie’s wrists, crouched over her, her mouth a smear of bold red lipstick, staring intently down, as though trying to memorise every last etch of her face. She swayed closer for a moment to brush her lips against Jamie’s, just softly.

“You all right?” Dani asked, sounding breathless.

Jamie nodded. “Yeah. Good. Great, even.”

“Yeah?”

In answer, Jamie reached up and crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Dani groaned, pressing down against her, then gasped her name.

Hands on her hips, Jamie urged her further up until Dani’s knees bracketed either side of her head. She pushed up the sheer white fabric of the costume around Dani’s thighs. Above her, Dani gripped the frame of their headboard, knuckles white, already panting.

Jamie shouldn’t have been so greedy. She should have taken her time. She should have made Dani writhe, holding her on that ledge for as long as she could until Dani finally broke. But Dani was so wet, her thighs were taught and trembling, and she was grinding down against Jamie’s mouth. Jamie could feel her chin and neck grow slick. She held onto the backs of Dani’s legs and urged her on, coaxing with every roll and swipe of her tongue until she came with a cry.

One of Dani’s hands was tangled in Jamie’s hair. The other was still gripping the headboard tight. She was resting her sweat-stippled forehead against her own arm. When Jamie scraped her teeth lightly against her damp inner thigh, Dani shuddered.

"Are you all right?"

“I need a moment,” Dani said, her chest heaving. “I want to go again, but - Just - Give me just a moment -”

Wiping at her face, Jamie helped Dani back down to lie beside her. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” She kissed her temple while Dani gasped for breath into her shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

She had said before, ‘so many people mix up love and possession,’ and now years later Jamie wondered if that was the reason why they had been given so much time. That maybe Viola thought this was love. That maybe she loved this. Loved her. Love them. Or at least the idea of them. In some twisted way. All that cold rage and loneliness clinging to whatever scraps it could find, winding around its prey like a snake slowly throttling the life out of its victim without even realising it.

But maybe Viola wasn't squeezing so hard after all. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe Dani hadn't died yet because Viola was trapped, because she could never again return to the lake at Bly. Maybe Viola wasn't possessing her at all. And if she wasn’t possessing her, then - well.

Even that was too good to be true. The best outcome by far given the circumstances. And really, deep down, Jamie knew that loving Danielle Clayton meant loving her enough to one day let her go.

They didn’t make it to the Halloween party. Eventually, Dani tired herself out, riding Jamie’s fingers for a third time before collapsing atop her and panting for breath as she seemed to come fully back to herself. Jamie was barely able to convince Dani to join her for a shower before she fell asleep, all a-tangle in Jamie’s arms.

The bedside lamp was still lit. Jamie carded her hands through Dani’s long damp and honeyed hair. From the light, the shadow of a woman standing at the foot of their bed was thrown in sharp relief against the opposite wall. Staring at the space where Viola stood, Jamie gently kissed the top of Dani’s head.

Not for the first time in her life she found herself hoping beyond hope that someone could be haunted forever.

One day she brought back a tin full of loose-leaf tea. It was intended for nobody but herself. A full and earthy black. Not the bog her father would've drunk before descending into the ground, but similar in colour to his lungs perhaps. Jamie pulled it out along with the rest of her shopping, and started to put everything away but the tin. And while she did so, she put on the kettle to boil.

The sound of the kettle whirring away on the stove drew Dani from another room, like a siren's song. She was dressed in an old pink shirt tucked into high-waisted, acid-washed jeans. Her hair was still wet from a recent shower. "Need some help?"

"Sure." Jamie handed over the last bag for unpacking. "Take care of that for me while I handle the kettle, will you?"

Without a word, Dani did as asked. She was the taller of the two, and didn't have to reach up onto her toes to put away things on the high shelves. And Jamie was too proud to admit she needed a stepping stool, herself. Why bother? That's what Dani was for. Among other things.

When Jamie opened the cupboard, she asked, "Don't suppose you want some as well? Might not be your cup of tea, so to speak."

"I'll have one. Thanks."

So, Jamie pulled out two mugs. The kettle hissed. She poured a bit of water into each cup to warm them, then spooned the appropriate amount of tea leaves into the pot. While waiting for the tea to steep, Jamie turned round and lifted herself onto the kitchen bench. There, she drummed her sock-clad heels against the cupboard and reached over to the jar that held an assortment of biscuits. Chocolate-drizzled digestives for herself, and ginger biscuits for Dani, who had the unfortunate American affection for cinnamon and ginger and cloves. Jamie couldn't stand ginger, herself. Tasted too medicinal.

Sticking a digestive biscuit into her mouth, Jamie wordlessly held out the jar. Dani was just finishing putting away the shopping bags, and wandered over. Her hand slipped into the glass opening and she fished out two ginger biscuits for herself. Jamie set the jar aside, and meanwhile Dani insinuated herself between Jamie's legs so that she stood snugly against her.

"Long day?" Dani asked.

"Mmm," Jamie mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit. She finished chewing. "Not too bad of a Sunday, to be honest. What about you?"

"I went for a walk in the park," Dani said, looking mischievous as she nibbled on the first biscuit.

"On a Sunday? The scandal," Jamie tsked, tapping her tongue against the backs of her teeth. "What would dear old Viola think about that?"

In reply, Dani arched her brows and smirked, "I think that was the appeal, actually. Plus, we're in the full swing of Fall now, and we won't have many sunny days soon. I wanted to take full advantage while I still had the chance."

"Buy anything while you were out?"

"A scarf for you," Dani answered. "And a pair of gloves for me."

She had a habit of buying articles of clothing out of the blue. Whenever the fancy seemed to strike her. Today was obviously one such a day.

"How very thoughtful."

"It's green. You look good in green," said Dani. "It brings out your eyes."

"I look good in anything," Jamie insisted. "And nothing."

Dani grinned. "That's true, too."

She stepped back and wandered over to the fridge for milk, when Jamie reached around to pour them each a cup of tea.

"Thanks, love," Jamie said, pouring them each a dollop of milk before handing the jug back to Dani, who put it away in the fridge once more.

Their fingers brushed when Jamie handed over the cup of tea. As ever these days, Dani's hands were cold. They eagerly wrapped themselves around the hot cup, and she pulled the tea close to her chest.

Jamie did the same. It was after all, as Dani had said, the throes of Fall; the weather was taking a turn to the icy. And that first sip of tea was pure heaven. It warmed her all the way down her throat and settled in her stomach. Jamie hummed at the sensation and closed her eyes. She could hear Dani do the same beside her.

"I wish I could take this moment," she heard Dani say in a soft murmur, "and press it into a big book for safekeeping. So, I could come back and look at it whenever I felt sad."

“Aye,” Jamie breathed. Then she opened her eyes, and said, “Though maybe only with another biscuit in hand.”

With a snort of laughter, Dani dragged the biscuit jar closer so they could each indulge again. Jamie took one. Again, Dani took two.

“There. Now, that -” Jamie gestured with her cup of tea, speaking around a full mouth, “- is a perfect moment.”

“I could not agree more.” Dani had already finished one biscuit and was busily dunking her second into her tea.

Jamie watched her finish the biscuit before nudging Dani softly with her elbow. “You’re normally more of a coffee drinker. I could’ve brewed a different brew, if you’d wanted.”

“Yeah. But - I dunno. Somehow,” Dani paused to take a sip. She smiled warmly around the brim of the cup. “This tastes like home.”

Polaroids were getting cheaper and more compact these days. She didn’t have to go cramming them into oversized pockets anymore. Jamie had thrown out countless photos over time, never quite satisfied with the outcomes but always searching for some way to keep a hold of her. The day she bought a new camera -- her old one had died the death of kings; a swimming accident, and cameras as it turned out did not swim very well -- she immediately wanted to try it upon returning home.

Dani had just gotten a new haircut. The barber had done something to her fringe to make it look like the sweep of a wing, and she was constantly brushing it out of her eyes. She did so when she looked up as Jamie entered the living room, greeting her with a curious smile.

Brown paper bag under one arm, Jamie took a moment to remove her jacket and sling it across the coat hanger, but she left the green scarf wound around her neck like a python. “I got a new toy,” she announced.

Dani tilted her head to one side. “I told you I’d buy you that nice pair of secateurs for Christmas.”

“And you still can.”

Immediately, Dani’s eyebrows rose and she seemed intrigued. “Then what kind of toy?”

Pretending to look scandalised, Jamie reached into the bag. “How naughty! Not that kind of toy.”

Dani’s cheeks tinged pink. “Oh,” she said. She sounded disappointed.

With a smirk, Jamie strode forward and pulled out the new camera. She chucked the now empty paper bag onto the kitchen countertop, and gestured for Dani to stand beside her. Shaking her head, Dani nonetheless complied.

Jamie grabbed a hold of Dani’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek, before she lifted the camera up as high as her arm would allow. A press of her finger. A flash of light. A click and whir of cogs and internal mechanisms.

Dani didn’t flinch this time or duck her head. She returned the kiss, then wandered away, humming to herself, without waiting to see the film develop. Jamie watched her go with a warm grin and an appreciative glance. When she looked down at the photo it was to find herself beaming from the square strip of film, and beside her Dani smiling tentatively, grasping Jamie’s opposite shoulder. Both of them were clear and their characters easily distinguishable. She felt herself relax a little.

Then as the white veil continued to lift from the surface, she went very still. On each of their shoulders rested a pale hand, and in the space between them a shadow in the shape of a woman with hair as long and black as the night. The face was a mask worn of all features, but she swore she could see a pair of dark eyes watching her from the film, and a canny smile haunted the unmistakable likeness of the Lady Lloyd of Bly.

Wrenching her eyes up, Jamie stared after Dani, who had wandered into their kitchen and was humming over the kettle. Slowly the water began to build to a boil. The kettle began to hiss. Then to shrilly whine.

Dani removed the kettle from the heat and poured boiling water into the brown betty teapot. "How'd the picture turn out this time?"

Briefly, Jamie considered throwing this one away like all the others, but it were as though a hand was still squeezing her shoulder tight. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to be known and most of all obeyed. Clearing her throat, she took a few hesitant steps forward then held out the square strip of film.

Dani set the kettle back down, and took the picture. She turned it round for a better look. There followed a sharp inhalation, like tearing in one last breath before the plunge. Her eyes widened and then, a slow smile crossed her face. She gasped out an incredulous laugh.

"Y’know, I - I thought this was going to be terrible, but -" Dani stroked her fingers over the image. "It really isn't half bad. You look - I mean. We look -"

Suddenly she snatched her hand away from the picture, clenching her unruly fist and lowering it. Her breaths were shaky but when she glanced up, her eyes were bright. She held up the photo. "Can we keep this one?"

Jamie nodded and shrugged at the same time. “Sure.”

Relief suffused Dani’s face. She did not tuck the photo away in some little corner of the apartment, something to be passed by without a second glance. No. Instead, she turned and began pulling magnets from the fridge. She cleared their normally busy little refrigerator, pushing everything aside to make space. And right there at the very centre of the blank white canvas she pinned the photo into place with a single plain black magnet.

“There,” Dani breathed softly. Her trembling fingertips lingered against the white-edged film. “That looks right. That - It feels just right. Right there.”

The hand at Jamie’s shoulder withdrew, but then there was the feeling of something drifting from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. As though someone were trying to tame the wild curls there with a gentle, approving touch.

“Dani,” Jamie croaked, her voice cracking.

“Hmm?” Dani turned around.

Striding forward, Jamie stopped only when she was close enough that she could peer deeply into Dani’s eyes. They were as they always had been. Variegated as an infected holly.

“Are you -?” Jamie had to swallow down the burr in her throat. “Are you feeling yourself?”

Dani’s answering smile was puzzled. “Yeah,” she said, her words slow and thoughtful, as though considering something inward very closely. “Yeah, I am.”

And she reached up to card her fingers through Jamie’s untamed hair. “You know, it’s strange, really.” Dani’s hand followed the same path as the one had before, coming to rest at the nape of Jamie’s neck, a cool solid comforting weight. She stroked her thumb, and the motion was repeated by one that was colder, like an echo, before the two hands came together at last. “Somehow, I feel more myself than ever.”

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani/jamie #dani/jamie/viola #dani clayton #viola lloyd #roman writes #ANYWAY here's the ghost sex don't @me

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kyber-kisses · 4 years

Text

Handle With Care

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: blood, canon gore, cursing, nudity, mentions of smut, it gets a little steamy (pun intended)

Summary: being a hunter it is a given that some hunts are gonna take a toll more than others, but Dean is there to help keep you upright .

A/n: for those who have read the Too Soon series, some of this might sound familiar but I couldn’t help but write something like it again. Hope everyone enjoys and feedback is greatly appreciated!

You couldn’t exactly remember the last time you felt so exhausted and drained. The past week had been more demanding than usual, especially due to the fact that you had been on a solo hunt, the weight of everything solely on your shoulders and nobody else. Not that you had a problem hunting alone, in fact it gave you some time to yourself, time to think and breath without having to worry about Dean and Sam and vice versa.

But this hunt proved to be more difficult that you had originally thought. One witch you had been hunting quickly became a whole coven and needless to say, it became a mess. (But you had handled it.) the bad guys were put down and lives were saved. That was all that mattered.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you shouldered your duffel and slid out of the drivers seat, pocketing your car keys and reaching for the other bag behind you. How were you going to explain this one? Or more accurately, how were you going to stop Dean and Sam from freaking out at your current state. .

Taking a glance at your reflection in the side window of your car, you paused to take another breath. You looked eerily similar to Carrie White and it was not something you found to be pleasant at all.

You just hoped you didn't scare them when you walked through the door.

Dean didn’t expect you to be back until tomorrow, so when he heard the familiar grind of the bunker door opening he pulled up the sleeve of his robe, glancing at the time.

11:30 PM.

Definitely not like you. Sending a quick glance to his brother seated across from him, he only received a shrug in response, the two of them swiveling in their seats to look at the stairs.

“Y/Ns home already?”

“Apparently.” Dean shrugged, pushing up from his seat to walk to the entrance of the library, Sam close behind. Your silhouette slowly coming into view as you trudged down the last steps and into the war room.

“Well look who finally came- holy shit.” The words suddenly dying on Deans lips as you stepped into better lighting, looking like anything except yourself. You were stripped down to your underwear and covered in blood, not a speck of flesh untouched by the crimson substance. And beyond that you looked very, very annoyed.

“What the hell happened?!” Sam voiced, allowing Dean to pass him as the older Winchester shed his robe quickly and moved across the room wrapping it gently around you before taking your bags and dropping them on the table.

“Why does it look like you stepped off the set of Carrie?”

Quietly thanking Dean for the robe, you slowly stepped up the library steps, making a bee line for the bar cart and pouring yourself a glass of whatever was nearest.

“Well-“ you paused, taking a swig and letting the liquor burn your throat. “I think it’s pretty obvious what happened. I decided it would be fun to just strip down to my underwear and chase a bunch of witches through the woods.” You joked, leaning back against the nearby table.

“Ha. Funny. Try again.” Dean breathed, trying to hide his underlying panic as he followed you. He knew you better than most and it was easy to tell that you were not okay. You usually used humor to try and hide that fact.

“Witches man. They’re fucking sceevy like you're always saying. I was hunting a witch and it turned out to be a whole coven-“

“I’m sorry, you were hunting an entire coven and you didn’t call for backup?!” Deans voice raising as he stepped across the room, eyes wide.

“I took care of it. I’m alive, aren't I?”

“Yeah, but have you seen yourself?”

“Right. . . The blood-“

Dean shrugged, nodding once again. “Yeah Y/N. The blood.”

“They were held up in a cabin deep in the woods, and as I was tracking them-“ you paused, taking another gulp from your glass. “It started to rain. . . At least I thought it was rain. Turned out to be blood. I was stumbling around in it blind for a good twenty minutes before I managed to find the place and bury some bullets between their eyes.”

You watched from over the rim of the glass as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, sinking down back into his seat. “Jeez, Y/N. You should have called us.”

“Like I said Sam, I took care of it. I’m fine.”

Dean could tell that was lie right off the bat. . . Only because he had played that card so many times before. Even with your face caked in a layer of dried blood it was easy to see that you were drained.

“I was gonna come home tomorrow like I originally planned.” You continued. “But after all that all I wanted was to be home as soon as possible. And then there was the fact that I didn’t have any clean clothes and I didn't want to dirty up the interior of my car more so than it already was so I stripped down and bagged the blood clothes. . . Not that it did much difference though.” You gestured to your body.

“Are you okay though? You’re not hurt?” Dean questioned cautiously, almost afraid of the answer.

“No. No, I’m not hurt. At least not anymore so than usual.” You quickly answered, tugging the robe tighter around you. “I’m sorry about the robe by the way. I’ll wash it tomorrow.”

“It’s okay Y/N, really.”

Taking a deep breath you turned on your heel, suddenly wanting to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll see you guys in a little.” The words coming out quietly as you slipped off almost soundlessly down one of the bunkers many hallways.

Watching you go, Dean crossed his arms. “Something’s up with her.”

“Dean give her a break. She’s probably just tired.” Sam countered, closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm. “Maybe try talking to her tomorrow? I’m gonna go to bed.”

And just like that Dean was left in silence to piece together the underlying problem that you had not voiced.

It was one thing to talk about having a shower and another entirely to actually attempt to do it in your state. You had practically lied through your teeth to the brothers about not being hurt because in reality you were just a mass of bruises and small cuts. There was one plus side to being caked head to toe in blood: they didn’t notice that. And you definitely didn’t want to bring up the dislocated shoulder you were currently sporting.

But it was nothing you couldn’t handle. It wasn’t the first time you had this happen to you and probably wouldn’t be the last. All you had to do was pop it back into place. No big deal.

Sinking down onto the bench in the men of letters shower room, you gently shrugged off Deans robe, taking a deep breath to steady yourself for what was to come. Popping a limb back into its socket wasn’t exactly a fun task. But you didn’t want the brothers to fuss over you. You could take care of this yourself. Wrapping your hand around your wrist you pulled your arm forward and straight, waiting for the feeling of it settling back into its proper place . . .but a loud yell escaped your lips before you could stop it. Dropping your arm you moved your hand to cradle the shoulder. Still not in place. Dammit.

It was maybe twenty seconds later that the door flew open, a wide eyed and alert Dean Winchester skidding into the open room on socked feet.

“Dean!” You haphazardly tugged his robe back on. “Knock next time!”

“I heard you scream, forgive me if I panicked!” He fired back, attempting to avert his eyes from your mostly naked figure. “You alright?”

“Yeah. . . I’m fine.” Trying to hide the pained tone in your voice you brought you hand back to your shoulder, the pain now worse. Your small action unfortunately enough to catch the Winchesters attention.

“No you’re not.” And just like that he was quickly closing the space between the two of you. “You’re hurt.”

“Am not.”

“Quit it with the lying, let me see.” Sinking down, he squatted in front of you, patiently waiting for you to remove your hand. As you complied, you felt a shiver run through you as Deans fingers grazed the edge of the robe, pulling it down just enough to see your shoulder.

“It’s just a dislocation. I was handling it.” You mumbled, looking down at your bloodied hands balanced in your lap.

“Just a dislocation?! Why didn’t you say something earlier?!”

“Because I knew you would act this way.”

Dean punched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. “You’re stubborn, you know that?” Popping back up on his heels, he rolled his shoulders. “I’m gonna pop it back into place, okay? On the count of three.” Bracing one arm against your shoulder blade, he waited for you to nod. “One, two-“ with one quick movement he pressed his other hand on your shoulder and popped it back into place, earning another yell from you.

“Dean!”

“Sorry! Sorry.”

Taking a deep breath you attempted to move your arm, the soreness of it all already settling in and making you groan. How were you supposed to wash all this blood off if you couldn’t raise one arm above your head? Fan-freaking- tastic. You eyed the running water from over your shoulder, jaw clenched. Couldn’t anything ever be easy?

“Let me help.”

You whipped around, eyes wide as you looked up at Dean Winchester. “What?”

“Y/N let me help get this filth off of you. You're still in pain. Please.” If it weren’t for the look of total concern and worry on his face you would have told him to leave. . . But he was right. There was no way you were getting this stuff out of your hair and off your back by yourself.

But then there was the whole issue of Dean himself. For awhile now there had been some unspoken thing between you and the older Winchester- neither of you brave enough to actually say something or to make a move. Maybe it was the fact that the two of you had been best friends for so long that it was making things difficult. . . Who knows. All you knew was that you harbored some very deep feelings for him and now he was just offering to help you with this. And that? Well that was just brand new territory. Sure, Dean had seen you in your underwear plenty of times- but this was different. This was more intimate.

“Okay-“ you slowly nodded, a wave of sudden shyness running over you. You trusted Dean. You trusted him more than anyone one. Bringing your eyes towards the tiled floor beneath your bare feet, you waited as Dean discarded his many layers. The only sign that you were given that he was done was when a calloused hand found your own, helping you up and guiding you into the shower stall. Your eyes found his bare chest first, before traveling up to his face.

“Y/N, I really hate to be the one to tell you this, but us usually when you take a shower you don’t do it in a bathrobe.” Dean joked,shooting you a small grin that made your stomach flip.

“Right.”

You felt the blush return to your cheeks as you slowly shed the robe, tossing it out of the stall.

You could hear Dean suck in a breath, no doubt taking in every inch of bare skin that had suddenly been revealed. Keeping your back facing him, as he acted as a somewhat shield from the harsh pressure of the water, a good portion still pouring down over you.

You slightly flinched when you felt his fingers comb through your hair, the scent of shampoo filling your nostrils. A shiver escaped your body as you looked down, training your eyes on your exposed body and the rivulets of copper colored water running down your legs. It felt like every nerve in your body was vibrating in this moment. This was new. This was uncharted territory with him.

“You doing okay?”

You hummed a response, busying yourself with scrubbing the blood from your arms and torso. It was coming off much easier than you expected, thank goodness. After a minute you slowly turned around, looking up through soaked eyelashes at the nude hunter in front of you, his fingers pausing on your scalp as he looked down at you.

“What?”

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Well-“ he continued his actions, washing the rust colored soap from your hair. “I couldn’t have you walking around the bunker looking like you stepped straight out of a horror movie.”

With the seconds ticking by you had grown more comfortable being in his presence like this. You let out a laugh, shoot him a glare before raising a soapy hand and blowing the extra bubbles into his face, stunning the Winchester momentarily before he moved to wipe the suds from his face.

“Did you just blow bubbles in my face?”

“Maybe. . .” You mused, suppressing your smile as you tried to wipe the water from your eyes.

“Oh well now you’re askin for it-“ he grinned, taking his own soap covered hand and smearing it across your face, grinning when you scrunched up your nose, eyes snapping shut.

“I hate you.”

“you don’t, and you know it.” He smiled, watching you pucker your lips to hide your own grin. “You’re so cute.”

It was like a switch was flipped with those words because you could feel the heat creeping up your face, undoubtedly turning into a raging blush. “No im not!” You interjected, bringing your hands to cover your face, casually opting to make it look like you were washing the blood off instead.

But unfortunately for you- between you stepping into the shower and your childish antics, most of the blood coating your body was now gone, and the second you dropped your hands from your face, you watched the playful smile on Deans face slowly fade into an expression of concern.

“Y/N-“

The bruises. Right. There was no doubt that he had seen them now, judging by his face. “It’s nothing. Just a little banged up from the hunt. You don’t need to worry.” Your shyness suddenly coming back full force as you turned your gaze towards your toes.

“This doesn’t look like a little banged up.” His tone soft as he tenderly grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his worried gaze, his jade eyes scanning over the scattered bruises across your face. His free hand moving to delicately brush the backs of his fingers across your cheek.

“Like I said earlier, going up against a whole coven of witches is a lot harder than it sounds.”

Clenching his jaw, Dean scanned the rest of your body, only to find more bruises and cuts. Usually he would be furious at you for going out alone, but at this point he was too worried to care.

“I should have known. I could tell something was off from the moment you walked down those steps.” Running a hand through his soaked hair, he cursed himself for not being able to put the pieces together.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” You nodded, placing a hand over the anti possession tattoo on his chest.

Dean let out a sigh, concern only building in him with each passing second. Slowly, he reached out to grab your shoulder, turning you so he could inspect your back. Only to once again finding more bruises. A particularly nasty one took up almost the entirety of the back side of your thigh, the sight of it making the hunter wince. He subconsciously found himself tracing your own anti-possession tattoo that was nestled between your shoulder blades, deep in thought. He wished he could fix this, keep you tucked safely away from the dangers of the world. . . but life didn't work like that.

“Jeez, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I hate seeing you worried.” You admitted, turning back around to face him, the two of you ignoring the water still pelting both of you. You hated seeing him like this. It was almost more painful than the purple bruises decorating your body.

“Tell me what I can do to make it better.” His eyes big and still full of concern as he looked intently at you, calloused fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hips. His question making you slightly tense up and freeze.

“Well. . .” You paused, looking up into his quiet eyes as you traces the curve of his familiar face, debating on whether or not to say what you were thinking. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”

The older Winchester raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your words. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Mmhmm. You’re probably good at it.”

“Well, lucky for you I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time too.” Dean leaned in closer, resting his forehead against your own. God, he couldn’t fight the thoughts that were going through him now. You were intoxicating.

His lips brushed against yours and suddenly you didn’t care about the dull throbbing in your arm anymore, your hands going up to clasp the sides of his face. It was slow and soft and comforting in a way you had never felt before. Dean rested his hands below your ears, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as your breaths mingled. You slowly ran your fingers down his spine,pulling him closer until there was no space between you, your bare skin flush against his own.

After a moment Dean pulled away- or at least you thought he did before you felt his lips against your cheek, the hunter tenderly peppering your bruised face with kisses.

“Y/N.” Your name leaving him almost breathlessly as his lips moved down and over your neck as his hands explored your body. But he stopped himself before venturing any further, pulling back to look at you.

“What?”

His hand went back to your cheek as the softest expression you had ever seen on the man lit up his features. “You’re so beautiful.” the words leaving him breathlessly.

“So are you, Cowboy.” You smiled, pecking the tip of his nose.

“And as much as I would love to take you right here and now, you look like you're running on two hours of sleep. . . Plus, I want you to get better first.” He smiled, reaching behind him to turn off the water.

“That’s fair.” You let out a light laugh as Dean reached for the nearest towel, and wrapping it around you. . . The man practically swaddling you with it.

“There you go.” He grinned, tilting his head as he admired his work. “Now you look like a burrito.”

“I’m gonna hit you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” He mused, reaching for his own towel. “Now go get dressed. I’ll change and go make you something to eat.” Pressing a quick kiss to your temple, Dean pulled away, heading for the door- but not before sending you a wink from over his shoulder.

So this night didn’t go exactly how you planned. . . But you weren’t complaining.

Much like before, talking about doing a task and actually doing it were two completely different things. You had managed to get your underwear and sweatpants on easily, along with the massive t-shirt you had stolen from Dean months ago. . . But the sweatshirt was a different task. With an arm still partially out of commission due to its earlier dislocation, struggling against the sleeves proved to be a pointless work out. Which had you walking into the dimly lit kitchen with the sweatshirt only pulled partially over your head.

“Dean.”

“What?” The hunter turned from the counter, face almost immediately turning up in amusement at the state of you.

“I can’t get it on.” Your voice muffled from the fabric as you stopped in the doorway.

“Alright, alright. wait one second.” He lightly laughed, setting down the knife he was holding and moving across the room towards you. His fingers moving to pull the bunched up fabric down your torso. “Hold our your arms.” He instructed. You did as you were told, watching as he pulled the sleeves over your arms. “There you go. Better?”

“Yep. Thank you.” You nodded, playing with the strings of the hoodie as you sat down at the kitchen table, Dean moving back to the kitchen counter and resuming his previous task.

Letting out a sigh, you folded your arms over the surface of the small table, resting your cheek against your elbow as if it were a pillow. You hadn’t really realized how tired you were up until this moment- but that didn’t stop you from letting out a soft and tired giggle.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about the fact that the first time we saw each other naked was because you were helping me scrub blood off my body.” You paused, eyelids getting heavy with sleep. “And people say romance is dead.” you slightly chuckled.

“I don’t know what your talking about, I think we just invented romance back there.” Dean mused, cutting the sandwich in front of him in half and piling it onto a plate. “Now here you go madame, one perfectly made peanut butter and jelly sandwich-“

The last of the words petering out on his lips as he brought his gaze towards you, finding you already fast asleep at the table, your head in your arms. Clearly your need for sleep had outweighing your hunger.

Setting down the plate as quietly as he could, Dean rounded the table and squatted down, “damn, you’re killin me Smalls.” he lightly chuckled, sliding his arms underneath you and effortlessly hoisting you into his arms. He expected you to protest or at least whine, but you were too far gone at this point to even notice. “Let’s get you to bed.”

The older Winchester navigated the otherwise dark hallways of the bunker with ease, making his way towards your bedroom. Nudging the partially cracked door open with his heel, he moved across the room and settled you on the bed. Before departing he gently wiped the stray strands of hair away from your face, taking in in your relaxed features. It was a rarity to see you this peaceful. He wanted to take a mental snap shot of it, so he could remember.

After a moment the hunter turned to leave, only to be stopped short when one of your hands lazily came up to grab his own. Your words barely audible as you spoke in a whisper.

“Stay. . . Please.”

And so he did. . . along with every night after.

The End.

SPN Taglist (Still open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @neerness @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #SPN #bi-danvers0

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hazbincalifornia · 4 years

Note

A hassle about Blitzo not able to get comfortable to rest because of this fucking kid partying in his gut. Having to begrudgingly accept a visit from a certain owl when he’s out of options that ends up helping him and it relax.

Blitzo really, really hated the little brat sometimes. He’d been busy all day, and now that he finally made his way to bed, they just kept smacking outwards like his skin was a drum set being played by a coked-up college student.

“Will you stop squirming for thirty goddamn seconds?” He hugged his stuffed horse to his chest, knees pulled up, and hissed as the spawn in his gut absolutely refused to listen and just kept wiggling even as his tail wrapped around his stomach. “Holy shit, you really do take after Stolas, don’t you? Can’t leave me alone even when I’m trying to sleep. My stomach’s not a bouncy house, kid.” Unfortunately, his words didn’t seem to translate into baby-language, because giving an annoyed poke just made them move around more.

Blitzo rolled over to his other side. No dice. Back was out- his spines always tore up the sheets, and it was a pain in the ass (and his wallet) to replace them. He’d learned last week that trying to lay on his stomach just had them writhe around to the point of pain, not to mention it was like trying to sleep on a rock.

Loona had told him on no uncertain terms that she was ripping his tail off the next time she woke up with him snuggled against her in bed. She probably wasn’t going to actually do it, but he’d rather avoid her shedding all over his closet or something in a different form of retaliation. It wasn’t his fault that the kid was desperate for attention and just rubbing his stomach wasn’t enough!

They had another client meeting in the morning- a big one, from the sound of how she’d rattled off the names of her bitch-ass living family members. He couldn’t miss it. It sounded like a hilarious mess, on top of being four times the usual job’s size.

Blitzo’s phone buzzed, and he smacked the side table a few times before managing to pick it up. Stolas had sent a text.

Via and her mother are out tonight at her grandparent’s house. Is there anything you need that I could help with?

Groaning, Blitzo started to type. im fien dont worry abt it

He let that sit unsent for a few moments before deleting it. can u send soemthing to get them jto stop movng

No, that didn’t sound right either, and his toes curled before he finally gave up. jsut get ovr here. it wont stop movnig

Stolas sent a heart emoji and a thumbs up in response to the message, and Blitzo just hoped he hadn’t just lost what little sleep he’d have been able to get without him.

He trudged over to the front door twenty minutes later when Stolas had to stoop to make his way through the doorway. Loona was stretched out on the couch and watching TV, halfway through a carton of ice cream.

“Whatever you two are about to do, I don’t want to hear any of it,” she commented with a raised eyebrow. “I will turn up the volume on this until the neighbors start smashing the broom on the ceiling and yelling at us again.”

“We’ll be fine, Loonie,” Blitzo said with a wave of his hand before heading directly back for his room again. He heard Stolas murmuring reassurances to her before following, again having to duck to not hit his head. The prince had switched his inner shirt for a simple long sleeve with star patterns and had ditched the hat, but was still wearing his cape. Weirdo.

“So, what do you need, Blitzy?” Stolas settled himself down at the end of Blitzo’s bed and idly started rubbing a pair of boxers draped on the comforter between his fingers.

“Hold me.”

“Hmm?” Stolas scooted closer as Blitzo crossed his arms.

“Don’t make me say it twice,” he muttered as Stolas set a finger under his chin, tilting his face up.

“You said that you wanted me to hold you?”

“It… helps,” Blitzo muttered, forehead dropping down against Stolas’s chest. “The kid’s a bitchy little attention-whore, and Moxxie almost shot me last time when I showed up at his place while he was half-asleep. Don’t have a lot of options here.”

“We can’t have that!” Stolas wrapped his arms around Blitzo, who nuzzled against the soft down on his chest automatically before realizing what he was doing and trying to pull away. Unfortunately, as thin as Stolas’s arms were, his grip was like steel.

“What’s the deal with that, anyway? You’d think imp pregnancies would just make you want to shank anyone who looked at you funny,” Blitzo grumbled. “Not this.”

“If I were to hazard a guess, it would increase the odds that the child survives infancy if there was a clan or mate of some sort besides the single parent. Hell isn’t exactly kind to the weak, and babies are helpless.”

“Yeah, well, my body needs to get out of the old times. We’re not living in caves and shit, I can do this by myself.”

Stolas pulled back enough to glance around the messy room, but didn’t comment on that any further. “You don’t have to. It’ll be alright.” He rubbed his hand over the bump, the skin next to his beak twitching a bit. “Oh, goodness, they are feisty tonight, aren’t they? They take after you.”

“They do not! This is all you!” Blitzo drummed his fingers on his arm, tail irritably jabbing into the clay on the bedside table, and he plucked it off the tip to begin to knead with his fingers. “I’d be sleeping right now if they weren’t here. So clearly, this is your fault.”

“You’re far more… energetic than I am,” Stolas said, going back to gently soothing his fingers over the fussy baby, and Blitzo’s shoulders sagged when they started to slow. The fingers felt cool- or maybe his body was just running warm. Weird.

“Why wouldn’t they do that for me? I’m the one doing all the hard work here!”

“They missed their daddy,” Stolas teased.

“Hey, I’m the daddy!”

“We both are.” Stolas set a hand on Blitzo’s side, pushing him towards the bed until he was laying down. He pulled his cape and shirt off before laying down himself, his own flat stomach against Blitzo’s as he curled close. “This way, they’ll know that someone is here and won’t bother you until morning.”

“Won’t that be a miracle.” Blitzo rolled his eyes before lazily draping an arm over Stolas, pulling himself a little closer. It wasn’t often they got to cuddle without sex beforehand, and having those soft feathers against him without them being caked in sweat and cum (and, for that matter, without being so wiped out that he just conked out within five minutes) was nicer than he expected. His tail draped over one of Stolas’s legs, feeling the bumpy texture of it.

Stolas made a soft chirp at that, his hand resting on the side of Blizo’s belly before moving to settle on his hip.

“Good night, my little imp.”

“G’night,” Blitzo muttered. His chest felt kinda warm. He’d have to check the heating in the morning. The imp’s nose twitched as he could smell the spiced body lotion Stolas used before slipping away into sleep.

#daddy blitzo #helluva mpreg #hb #shadow writes stuff #I'll probably toss this over on ao3 after I do a few more of them #Anonymous #asks #one time

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 4 years

Note

My dearest darling partner in crime, you know I have a mighty need for "Shannon actually divorced her husband instead of leaving him hanging for two years" S2 FWB Buddie if you are so inclined...*bats eyelashes*

Aha okay so this is now a multi-chapter mess. I have no plan. I don’t know where this is going or how I’m organizing this. But these stupid stupid boys won’t leave me alone, so here we are. Part one of what is sure to be an annoyingly feels-filled saga. You can also read it here on Ao3.

Onward!

The first thing Buck thinks when he sees the new guy is oh no, he’s hot. The world seems to go into slow-motion. He swears he hears music.

The second thing Buck thinks when he sees the new guy is what the fuck is he doing in my station.

Okay, so maybe he’s a little cranky because with some encouragement from Maddie (who arrived in town yesterday) he and Abby had a proper talk for the first time in weeks and officially broke it off. Buck’s not exactly inclined to listen to Maddie on all things, since she did up and be good as gone from his life for years—thanks, Doug—but she was only telling him what his mind had already been whispering.

Doesn’t mean that the break up doesn’t hurt.

So he’s cranky, sure. And Eddie Diaz (that’s the fucker’s name) is confident, and handsome, and funny, and fine as hell, and daring, and pretty, and dedicated, and sexy, and…

Ahem.

It’s a lot for a guy to handle, okay?

Buck’s spoiling for a fight, and the confusing dance his stomach does whenever Eddie looks at him gives him the perfect excuse to be a brat, and even though Chim and Bobby and everyone else is giving him the side eye, he just can’t seem to stop. He fell in love, really in love, for the first time in his life and once again he was abandoned, and he just wants someone to yell at. And if it provides the added bonus of Eddie’s near-constant attention, well. Icing on the cake.

Except Eddie’s not playing back. He’s not posturing, he’s not snapping. Buck feels almost like a dog getting rapped on the nose with a newspaper. In the gym, Eddie doesn’t lose his cool. He seems almost amused. Like he knows what he’s doing to Buck, like he knows Buck’s drowning and just swinging his arms wildly to see who he can punch, like he knows his stupid pretty face is making Buck’s entire body squirm and heat up.

Maybe he’s being a bit of a jerk. Just a little.

A bomb isn’t exactly what most people would call a meet cute or a place to bond, but Buck can tell Eddie warms to him after that. And he can’t help but feel a bit warmer himself, basking in Eddie’s smile.

“You can have my back any day,” Eddie says, and Buck knows it’s probably nothing, but it sounds like more—or maybe he just wants it to be more, since he’s lonely and hasn’t had sex in months and he’s realizing he likes Eddie being pleased with him.

“Or you could have mine,” he blurts out, throwing in a bit of sauciness, just to see, just to test.

Eddie’s gaze flickers, maybe—just maybe—his eyes get a little darker, and Buck wonders if maybe there’s another way to get out all his frustration.

___________________________________________________________

“Another story to tell the family, right?”

They’re stripping down in the locker room, and Chim’s rolling his eyes because they all know how he used to steal their stories for Tatiana.

“I don’t think Karen will want to know about this one,” Hen says, grabbing her stuff. “Have a good night!”

Buck waves at her, then turns to Eddie. “What about you? Anybody to impress?”

Eddie shakes his head. “My kid’s too young to hear about that kind of thing.”

A kid. Buck glances down, tries to be subtle. No wedding ring. “You got a kid? I love kids.”

Eddie pulls out a picture of a smiling, golden-haired boy. Buck can feel himself grinning. He really does love kids and this guy’s adorable. “His name’s Christopher.”

“He’s cute.” Buck hands the picture back. “What about his mom?”

Eddie tucks the picture away and grabs supplies for the showers. “She’s… not in the picture. Divorced.”

“That sucks, man.” Eddie’s single Eddie’s single Eddie’s single—

“It is what it is.” That’s a shut door if Buck ever heard one, but he’s an expert at prying things open. After all, he’s a firefighter.

Eddie heads for the showers and Buck…

Carpe diem.

Buck follows.

“So nobody to brag to, huh?” he asks, quickly stripping off his clothes so he doesn’t get them blasted with water.

Eddie glances over his shoulder, and the look on his face seems to be trapped somewhere between are you fucking kidding me and oh this is adorable. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who uses heroic stories to get into people’s pants.”

Not anymore. “Nah, I just bat my eyelashes.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet that works wonders.”

“Y’know, I do know sarcasm when I hear it.”

“Do you?” Eddie turns to face him fully and it hits Buck like a delayed webpage loading that oh, yeah, they’re both naked.

Go big or go home. “So are we going to do something about…” He gestures between them. “This? Or are we going to keep ignoring it?”

“What, the obvious alpha male posturing?” Eddie asks. “Or the fact that you want to sleep with me? Because I’m gonna tell you I got enough of the former while I was in the military and as for the latter, we’re coworkers.”

“Nothing against coworkers having a little fun.”

“I have a kid.” Eddie puts his hands on his hips and oh, okay, nope, eyes up top, Buck. “I just moved here. The last thing I’m looking for is complications.”

“Well lucky for you I’m a simple guy. As anyone around here will tell you.” Yeah, he’s aware of the joke about his intelligence, but whatever. “I’m great at keeping things uncomplicated.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, then reaches for him. Buck’s heart races—

—and then skips a beat as he’s blasted with cold water. He yelps, ducking out of the way as Eddie finishes turning on the showers.

The look of smug satisfaction on Eddie’s face is not attractive. At all.

“Real funny.” Buck wipes his face off and gets the water out of his eyes.

“Oh, hilarious,” Eddie agrees seriously. His eyes crinkle up at the corners when he smiles.

Buck stands there, not quite sure what to do. The water’s warm, now, feels good, and it sure as hell looks good, sliding down Eddie’s body. Eddie’s not saying or doing anything, but he’s not kicking Buck out, either.

He debates for about ten seconds before he thinks, fuck it. He did the mature thing and waited for sex and did everything right and it still got his heart dashed to pieces. Why not be a little reckless? “You saying you’d object if I wanted to blow you?”

Eddie inhales a mouthful of water and splutters fantastically for a few seconds. The look he gives Buck when he’s finished is impressive. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Buck shrugs. “Don’t have the time for it.”

And he really wants to get his mouth on Eddie’s cock. Like, that’s kind of all he’s been able to think about since the grenade.

Eddie’s eyes narrow, and for a second Buck’s certain he’s going to get hit with a talk about sexual harassment from Bobby in the morning, but then Eddie plants his hand on the tiled wall and says, oh so casually, “Well, if you’ve got your heart set on it.”

Oh hell yes.

Buck’s been very diligently restricting his ogling to Eddie’s face and shoulders (what, they’re great shoulders, broad and tan and perfect for biting during sex), so it’s not until he sinks to his knees—carefully, the floor’s tiled and this is the only pair of knees he’s got—that he looks at Eddie’s cock and realizes it’s hard.

Ha.

Playing it cool and casual and this whole time he wanted Buck just as much as Buck wanted him. Buck is never letting him live this down. He looks up at Eddie through his lashes, a trick he’s learned works wonders when he’s about to eat someone out. “And here you are acting like it’s such a big chore to get your dick sucked.”

“Maybe I just like the idea of your mouth being too full to talk.” Eddie’s hand comes around to cradle the back of Buck’s head, his fingers combing through the short hair, tugging oh so slightly to get Buck’s head in place.

A shiver works through him. Jesus, that feels good. He hasn’t had a dry spell like this since he first discovered what sex was, and just the intimate touch of another person has his cock rising and his blood singing.

He leans in, nuzzling Eddie’s thigh, savoring the scent of another person, the feel of skin beneath his mouth again. And maybe he’s, ah, delaying things just a little, as he eyes the rather impressive dick in front of him, because. Well.

Here’s the thing that Buck kind of didn’t mention to Eddie.

He’s never given a blow job before.

But like hell he’s going to let it stop him now that they’ve reached this point. And besides, he knows what he likes, so it’s just a matter of remembering what that is and replicating it. This’ll be a breeze.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Eddie asks.

Buck glares up at him. “Have so.”

“You sure you’re twenty-seven? Because you sound like a five-year-old right now.”

Buck promptly takes as much of Eddie’s cock in his mouth as he can. He nearly takes too much and just barely saves himself from gagging, but Eddie makes a choked noise above him in response and that’s all that fucking matters.

“Ten points for enthusiasm,” Eddie mutters, and oh, it is so on now. He’s going to blow this guy’s mind.

Turns out, sucking dick is simultaneously eager and harder than he expected. Easy? Sucking. Holy shit. He could do this all day, he’s eaten ice cream cones that were more trouble than this.

Figuring out what exactly he’s supposed to do with his tongue? Difficult. Very difficult. It’s not until he has the bright idea of, hey, what if he treats a dick like a really big clit, that he starts to get the hang of it.

He’s never had a woman complain about his oral skills, after all.

Eddie’s hand tightens in his hair and he swears under his breath. “Again,” he orders, a bit breathless, and Buck repeats the little twist he did with his tongue against the slit of Eddie’s cock. He shivers at the order, at the implications of it.

“Oh.” Eddie’s voice is like a revelation. “Oh, you like that. You like when I tell you what to do?”

He can’t really nod right now, so he hums.

Eddie’s grip tights further. “Suck.”

His voice is a full-on growl and Buck’s cock jerks in response, electricity zapping every one of his limbs. Jesus, turns out there’s one place he really does like to be given orders.

“Jesus Christ, you should see yourself.” Eddie’s still growling, and now his hips are thrusting a little into Buck’s mouth, and Buck just lets his jaw go slack, lets Eddie use him. Eddie swears violently at that and speeds up, just a little, like he’s trying to hold himself back so he doesn’t hurt him, doesn’t go too far.

Buck feels like there’s a cat in his chest, purring, like he’d wag his tail if he had one, on his knees and being good and giving someone what they want. His jaw aches and his mouth is stretched but it feels so good, and if he’d known he would like sucking dick this much, hell, he’d’ve done it years ago.

He can feel Eddie tense up, his cock jerking against Buck’s soft palate, and Buck tries to open his throat to get ready—only Eddie pulls Buck off his cock and turns, spilling into the spray of the shower, the evidence washed immediately down the drain.

Buck’s voice is raw when he tries to speak. “I was gonna—you didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t want to assume.” As if he’s trying to make up for showing some softness and consideration, Eddie hauls Buck to his feet, a sly look in his eyes. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

There’s a promise in his voice that Buck really, really hopes he’ll deliver on. He shamelessly plasters himself to Eddie’s front, lets Eddie feel his erection, and combs his fingers through all that thick, dark hair. Buck would kill to be able to run his fingers through it when it’s dry. Eddie’s hair always looks unbearably soft.

“Fuck me?” he says hopefully, grinding slow against Eddie’s hip. “I mean. I get recovery time, so… we can just make out until…”

Eddie’s hands find his waist and Buck whines, trying to catch Eddie’s mouth in a kiss. He wants that tongue counting his teeth, dammit.

“I’d let you,” he says, because oh, God, he would, he really would. Even though it’s reckless to let a guy you just met fuck you when you’ve never done it before. Buck’s gotten pretty far by being reckless.

“You’d let me,” Eddie says, something sparking in his eyes, and the next thing Buck knows, he’s been turned around and pressed face-first against the wall.

“You really think I’d fuck you here?” Eddie’s voice is dark and utterly filthy and Buck’s fucking trembling. “Hell no. If I fucked you, I’d do it right, get you all laid out on a bed and really take you apart. And you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Buck’s nails are scabbling at the wet tile, trying to find a purchase that isn’t there. He’s never felt this raw in his entire life and he vaguely wonders if this is what drugs feel like because if it is, he understands how people get addicted.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s lips are right at the shell of his ear now, his voice a heated whisper. “One look at you, boy, and I fuckin’ knew it. You just want someone to destroy you.”

Fucking yes he does.

Eddie bites at his ear right as his hand find’s Buck’s aching cock and oh, oh fuck. Eddie’s pace is brutal, going from tight and hot to feather light, the tips of his fingers dancing up and down, drawing Buck to the edge and then leaving him there.

Buck’s real glad that he got good at being quiet because of Abby’s mom, otherwise the entire station would probably hear him moaning and begging right now.

Eddie’s plastered to his back, his free arm around Buck’s waist like a band of iron, and Buck feels like everywhere they touch is on fire. “Jesus.” Eddie sounds half in command, half in awe. “You really fucking need this, don’t you?”

“So do you,” Buck fires back. “Or you wouldn’t have said yes to me.”

Eddie growls and bites his neck, like a wolf holding down another so he can mount him, and Buck goes lightheaded with lust. He twists his wrist on the upstroke, sucking on Buck’s skin, grinding against Buck’s ass like he might actually fuck him after all, and Buck comes so hard he goes deaf for a second, his ears going silent and then buzzing like a nest of hornets.

Buck rests his forehead on the cool tile and Eddie licks apologetically at the spot he bit, his grip loosening. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, why you want someone to put you in your place, but next time, maybe try talking to a therapist instead of propositioning your coworker.”

Buck snorts. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

He turns, leaning back against the tile, as Eddie grabs the soap. “Does that mean I can’t come to you? After you made all those promises about… what was it… taking me apart?”

The look that Eddie gives him is incredulous. “You realize what would’ve happened if someone walked in here, right?”

Buck grins. “Ah, but nobody did walk in here.”

Judging by the eye roll he gets in return, his comment is not appreciated.

“This?” Eddie gestures back and forth between them. “Was a one-time thing. We’re not doing this again.”

Buck nods, swallowing the disappointment that’s hot and acrid in his throat. “Sure thing.”

______________________________________________________

Well, obviously by ‘again’ Eddie meant ‘in the station’ because one week later they’re in the back of Buck’s car and Eddie’s mouth is attached to his neck like he’s a fucking vampire.

A car isn’t exactly the best place for maneuverability, so Buck’s not getting the fucking he was sort-of promised last time, but he doesn’t really care when he’s got a leg wrapped around Eddie’s waist and they’re grinding against each other like teenagers in the high school parking lot.

He rucks up Eddie’s shirt, gets is hands on all that smooth, warm skin on his back, and digs his nails in as Eddie gives a particularly hard thrust. He’s so fucking turned on he’s seeing stars and he should probably, y’know, suggest they take this somewhere else but he can’t, he can’t—his cock’s trapped underneath Eddie’s body, inside his pants, and Eddie’s mouth, and his hands, he’s—

His orgasm gives him vivid flashbacks to the less-than-glamorous trysts he got up to as a sixteen-year-old, but he doesn’t care because it feels so damn good. Eddie groans and thrusts harder, frantic, and he once again bites, this time Buck’s chest, as he comes.

Buck’s lying down, but he’s still dizzy. “I demand a proper bed next time.”

“There’s not gonna be a next time.” Eddie’s authority is somewhat diminished by the fact that his face is mashed into Buck’s shoulder.

The next moment, Eddie’s leveraging himself up and off of Buck. “We shouldn’t even have done that this time.”

“Why?” Buck follows him, sitting up, and nearly bangs his head on the roof of the car. “We’re two guys who don’t have time to date—I don’t even want to fucking date right now—you’ve got a kid—why not just use each other, y’know? I’m here, you’re here, I’m hot, you’re hot, our schedules line up, I’m not seeing a downside to this.”

“Of course you don’t see a downside,” Eddie mutters.

They regard each other for a moment, and Buck knows this is a serious conversation, but also his pants are soaked and they’re gonna start feeling tacky and gross any second now. “Look, I get it, you want to be smart. But I’m offering you a no-strings-attached-free-sex-whenever card so.” He shrugs. “If you ever decide you want to help me test out my new mattress, you know where to find me.”

Eddie’s dark eyes watch him for a second, his fingers tapping on Buck’s knee—Buck’s pretty sure Eddie’s not aware he’s doing it—and then he pulls back. “Yeah, I do know where to find you.”

He backs up and out of Buck’s car, and it’s a good thing Buck didn’t have any dignity to start with, otherwise he’d be feeling pretty undignified right about now.

#mads answers things #mads writes stuff #buddie #buddie fanfic #911 fox #911 fanfic #how dare you encourage me into this #and how dare they be so hot and so stupid #this is going to be a complete trainwreck #but a sexy trainwreck #extasiswings

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kyoka-jirou · 4 years

Text

Traitor!Kaminari Denki x Reader

hey guys! this is my first one-shot, let me know if you like it please! anyways, onwards to the great unknown!! :3

(Slight nsfw, not the full.. you know… just a lime(ish) but yeah lol)

———

“Hey, y/n!” Yao-Momo called out from across the circle of 1-A girls that had collected in the common area.

“Hmm?” you replied, lifting your head up from the beige carpet.

After a stressful day in Hero Training, you’d been relieved to find yourself without any homework, leaving the rest of the night off. Usually your socially-challenged self would jump at the chance to cower in your room, surrounded by pocky and books about a prince in shining armor. But, tonight was Yao-momo’s birthday, so you had to suck it up and be happy.

As hard as that might be.

You and the rest of 1-A had finished dinner and cake in the dorms early, and decided to talk until it was time to go back to the dorms for the night.

“Do you want to play never have I ever?” Yaoyoroza asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. You shrunk back. This can’t be good.

“….No.” you replied meekly. She glared like the she-demon Mira herself.

“Hmm?” she asked pointedly, “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

You shivered, “I said sure!”

“Great!” she chipped. “I’ll go first!”

She scanned the group of girls that hadn’t already left in fear. You were jealous.

The ones that hadn’t managed to escape remained; Mina, Ochako, Tsu, and Jirou.

You all glanced around the room and shivered. Playing games with a matchmaker was never quite ideal.

With the click of her tongue, Momo started the game.

“Never have I ever… cheated on a test.”

You watched as Mina put her first finger down, yelling out an ‘aww man!’

“Mina!” Ochako gasped, “Really?”

Mina grinned sheepishly, looking up from her fiddling fingers. “Hehe, sorry Ururaka.”

“My turn.” Tsu said cheerily, “Never have I ever… dyed my hair. Kero.”

“Aww man!” You said, putting a finger down. Remembering the year you’d dyed your hair (h/c), you shivered. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, you had loved it, actually. It’s just that your littler cousin once tried to eat it, thinking it was cotton candy..

Snapping out of your thoughts, you looked around to see if anyone else had done the same.

Then, you spotted Ochako with one of her fingers held down.

“Ochako!” You shouted, “When did you dye your hair?”

She sighed, “We don’t speak of it..”

You decided not to push further. Based on her facial expression, it was best not to ask.

The game continued on, everyone had gone repeatedly, until you all had one or two fingers up.

It was Momo’s turn.

“Never have I ever.. had a crush on someone in our class.”

You sighed, putting down your last finger.

The game was finally over for you, and you were planning on getting a good night’s rest before the USJ trip tommorow. Since the villain attacks, you guys had been there quite frequently, so that you were prepared for anything.

Speaking of a crush-

Starting to get up, you noticed everyone’s smirk on their faces.

“What?” you asked.

“Soo,” Mina smirked, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You choked. Oh you have got to be kidding.

“U-uh..” you replied shakily, a dark red blush starting to creep up your neck.

“No one..”

“Y/n..” Momo warned, a murderous glint in her eye.

Shit shit shit shit…

“Hehe… umm,” you started, “Well, I had a lot of fun tonight-”

“Y/n.” Ochako warned, “Give us the name.”

You sighed, knowing you had one last resort.

Without missing a beat, you shouted, “Look over there!”

They turned their heads in the random-ass direction you had pointed, but by then you were already gone.

You used your quirk, Sinkhole, to make a portal straight into your room.

Your quirk was useful in getting out of situations quickly, but you could only portal when you weren’t in contact with anything. So, as long as you could jump into the air, you were good.

“Oh thank god.” you said, calming your heart rate.

After that whole experience, you were ready to curl up into your bed with your copy of ‘The Little Rabbit That Could’ and sleep. Yeah, that sounded alright.

As you looked up, you saw a computer in the back corner of the room, and shelves you knew didn’t belong there. You realized that in your haste, you thought about- someone else’s room.

And it wasn’t your own.

“Y/n?” you heard from behind you.

You froze.

This was his room, after all, who couldn’t remember the voice of their best friend?

“Hi?” you said questioningly, still not looking over your shoulder.

There was silence for a solid minute or two.

“So.” Denki started. “What'cha doing?”

“Umm.” you started, sweating from nerves. “I was..”

“You were what?” he asked, voice joking and light. With your luck, he was laughing at you.

This is so awkward.

“Well,” you started, beginning to turn red with shame, knowing that Denki was probably thinking you were being a creep.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me you weirdo?” he spoke lowly, yawning a bit, probably just about to go to bed. Obviously not anymore.

You heard a weird sounding ruffle and a creak, like he had gotten out of his bed.

How the hell were you supposed to explain ‘accidentally’ appearing in his room?

Suddenly, you felt a warm, but firm grasp around you.

“So you do know?” he said, holding you extremely close to him. His hot breath flew past your ear, making you unconsciously bite your lip.

‘Holy shit,’ you thought, ‘what the hell did I just myself into?’

You looked back at him, noting that we was wearing a navy shirt and some, heart pants. Typical Denki.

“Well, yeah,” you continued, going along with whatever the hell he was thinking.

He tensed, holding you closer.

“Shit,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

What the hell is going on right now..

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, subconsciously moving his hand to hold your other arm down. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He spun you around so you could see his eyes. He looked- scared, and upset.

“This is gonna be bad,” he began, running his free hand through his hair, “You were never meant to find out.”

You froze.

"Hold on.” you said, prying out of his grasp to face him. “What are you even talking about?“

Your voice broke near the end in confusion.

"What?” he whispered, turning to look at you. His eyes widened.

You slowly started to back away.

“What’s going on, Denki?” you asked him, voice trembling.

He looked at you pained. “It isn’t what it sounds like..”

“Really?” you started, “because right now it sounds like you’re wrapped up in something bad.”

He flinched, his yellow hair falling over his eye. “I can explain.”

I gasped when the pieces finally clicked into place.

“You’re the one who told them when we’d be at the USJ, and the training camp!” You continued, taking a few steps away from him, hitting the wall softly.

He looked at you, pained.

Knowing that he was probably about to kill you or something, you clenched your eyes closed and pressed your back to the wall, violent shivers rocking your body.

All of a sudden, you felt his hand grab your shoulder.

You looked up through terrified teary eyes.

He gazed into your eyes. “Please forgive me.”

His electric golden eyes watered in the slightest bit, and he placed his head to yours.

“Y/n.” he whispered. That’s when you realized that he was crying.

Through all the shock, your head cleared. This was Denki, your best friend since grade school. He wouldn’t do anything like this without a reason.

You wrapped your arms around him, and he tensed. You thought you’d done the wrong thing, until he returned the action, and you were both sharing an emotional hug.

It’s funny to think that’d just two minutes ago, you’d been smiling, and having no idea what was to ensue.

And now, you were trying to figure out what to do next.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered into your shirt, “I couldn’t do anything.”

“It’s ok.” you mumbled, “You’ll be ok now.”

He pulled back, “You don’t understand!” he started.

“They said if I didn’t give them what they wanted, they’d take you instead.”

Your heart stopped, “What?”

He nodded.

“I just, I couldn’t lose you.” he started. “You’re the only person that’s truly been there for me.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Denki..”

“I love you.”

You looked up, shocked.

“What?” you asked, eyes opening incredulously.

“I love you.” he repeated. Placing his hand underneath your chin, his lips met yours in a crash of emotion.

You gasped into the kiss. It was soft and sweet.

His tongue glided over your bottom lip, pleading for entrance, and you gladly let him in.

He pushed you flush against the wall, pinning your hands above your head with one hand. While he was fighting for dominance in your mouth, his free hand roamed your back.

You moaned in pleasure as he pulled away.

“I-I love you too.” you started, gasping for breath, “I always have.”

His grin lit up like a christmas tree as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Almost immediately, he came back around with another kiss. His hand still prevented you from moving your arms, but you didn’t mind. His other hand now roamed just your lower back as he pressed closer to you.

You let out another moan as he started to pepper your jawline with kisses, using his free hand to move your head.

You flushed with embarrassment at the lewd sound, but he just hummed with a dangerous smirk.

“Do that again.” he rasped into your ear between kisses, and you tried not to just moan at the sound of his voice.

It wasn’t until he started to nibble at your ear when you let out another moan. Your cheeks flushed yet again.

He purred against your throat, tilting your head back.

“You like that?” he asked huskily, continuing to slowly nibble on your ear.

“Y-yea.” you replied, biting your lip as he hit a sweet spot.

You could feel his smirk against your jawline.

“Again.” he commanded, starting to lick at the shell of your ear.

“Mm..” you groaned, biting back a small moan.

“What did I say?” he growled into your ear. The vibrations against your throat paired with the soft breath past your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

Deciding that was enough there, he slowly moved down to your collarbone, littering your neck with flowering kisses.

He kissed up your collar bone until he reached the dip in the center of your throat.

At this point, you were a panting, sweaty ball of nerves. He looked up at you and smiled softly at your slightly swollen lips, and the hickeys he left behind.

He sighed, letting go of your arms and stepping back a bit to let you calm down.

“Man,” you started once you caught your breath, smiling, “I knew you were a playboy, b-but this?”

He smirked cockily, giving a small glance to your neck before his gaze returned to yours. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.”

You rolled your eyes, finally feeling a bit of fatigue. You stumbled forwards, and he caught you in his arms.

“Woah.” You breathed out as he laid you softly to the ground, and you stared up at his soft grin.

“-Easy there.” he chuckled, “You should probably get some sleep.”

You nodded, smiling. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

–

It’s funny how things can change in less than an instant. Suddenly, as you laid with Denki in his room, you realized how lucky you were. Lucky to have an amazing guy like him in your life. Lucky to be free.

And you knew that Denki would never be free unless you both had help. So, you both planned to come clean to Principal Nezu, and hoped it worked itself out.

But for now, you just relished in the feeling of safety and love that radiated from him, as you laid protected in his hold.

I guess you could say he was your fairy-tale prince.

————

Ok, yeah, I’m a sucker for Denki, he’s my baby

Umm, anyways, lol. Hope you guys enjoyed it! My ask box is always open, and I’ll write almost anything. Obviously the plot will be better than.. whatever the heck this was.. but umm yeah!

Thanks, and drink some water!

- alice

#denki x you #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero fanfic #oneshot #part two?#please request #haha im desperate #please give me things to do #coronavirus #kaminari x reader #kaminari x you #denki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x femreader

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blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #682: Valentine's Cards (Kingdom Hearts)

3:32 p.m. at Hayner's Usual Secret Spot......

Hayner: ('Heh' 'Heh') (Smugly Shows Roxas and Pence a Deck of Valentine Cards Given to Him) Read 'em and weep, boys!

Pence: (Somewhat Amazed) Woah.....You really weren't kidding when you said you got a lot of Valentine Cards today.

Hayner: I know, right? (Puts on a Smirk on his Face) This goes without saying, I believe I'm becoming a major hit with the ladies nowadays. Very impressive for a troublemaker like yours truly, I know.

Roxas: (Gives Hayner a Deadpinned Look on his Face) I never thought in million years that you, of all people, would care about this kind of stuff....

Hayner: (Shrugged) Me neither, but yet here we are. (Place his Arm Around an Annoyed Roxas) No need to be jealous, bud. It's not everyday that your best friend in the entire universe got a lot more Valentine Cards than you do. Hell, I bet you don't even have any at all.

Roxas: (Rolled his Eyes) Oh har har. (Shoves Hayner Off of Him) Very funny, Casanova. But in case you haven't noticed.....(Puts Out a Few Valentine's Cards of his Own From his Pants Pocket) I got a lot Valentine's cards of my own too! What you gotta say about that?

Pence: (Nodded in Agreement) That is pretty impressive if you ask me.

Roxas: Thank you, Pence!

Hayner: (Nodded as Well) Yeah. I agree. It is impressive and all. (Puts on a Smug Smirk on his Face While Crossing his Arms Together) But I bet two of them, Xion and your two dads.

Roxas: (Glares at Hayner) No they're not!

Hayner: (Raised an Eyebrow at his Bro)

Roxas: ('Sighs in Defeat') Alright, fine. They are. But they still counts! (Turns to Pence) What about you, Pence? You any Valentine Cards of your own?

Pence: Nah..... (Looks Down on the Ground in Sadness) I got nothing this year.....As usual.......

Hayner: (Immediately Starts Feeling Bad For Pence) Ah dude.....

Roxas: (Frowns at Pence) I'm sorry, man.

Pence: (Suddenly Starts Chucking Lightly While Looking Back up Towards his Two Friends) I'm messing with you guys. (Pulls out Something From Both of his Pockets) I got three cards and a chocolate bar.

Roxas: ('Sighs in a Bit of Relief') Oh that's good hear.

Hayner: Neat.

????: 'Sup, Losers.

Hayner: (Turns to See Vantias Making his Way to the Him and the Gang) Well, whaddya know! The man of the hour is finally here!

Roxas: (Puts on a Smirk on his Face) And here I thought you weren't gonna show up.

Vantias: Well, I would've been here sooner if a bunch girls didn't try to follow me everywhere.

The trio eyes suddenly becomes widened in complete shock from what Vantias told them.

Roxas: I-I-I'm sorry. But.... You're....telling us that-

Hayner: A BUNCH OF GIRLS WAS FOLLOWING YOU!?

Vantias: (Starts Getting Confused and a Tad Bit Weirded Out by Hayner's Sudden Outburst) Uhh....Yeah. I mean, they didn't follow me all at once, but.....('Sigh') Okay. So when I went to the burger place to get myself something to eat, this one girl was following me, all shy like. Once I turned around and ask what she was doing, she gives me her Valentine card to me and just ran off. Then, when I actually went into the place, four or five other girls tried to stare at me and look away back and forth and then eventually, come up to my table and gave those cards to me before they started running away and.... squealing for some reason. And then, just when I started to walk out, a bunch of other girls suddenly appear in front of me and do the exactly same thing!

Pence: So they followed you around just so they can give you their Valentine cards?

Vantias: Exactly. That and candy. Which reminds me....(Toss Bag Filled With Valentine Cards and Candy onto the Ground)

Pence: (Surprised and Amaze at the Bag Right in Front of Him and the Others) Woah..........

Roxas: Holy shit, dude. You really weren't kidding.....

Vantias: Well, duh. Of course I wasn't kidding about all of this. But anyways, if any of you nerds want some candy, then be my guess.

Pence: (Smiles Excitedly as he Get Some Candy Out if the Bag) Don't have tell me twice!

Roxas: (Smirk Comes Back on his Face) Thanks, man. Namine's right. You really do have a heart.

Vantias: (Rolled his Eyes from Roxas' Comment While Blushing a Little) Whatever.

Hayner: (Eyes Still Widened at Vantias' Bag) (How?.....How in the hell did Vantias, of all people, got so many girls admiring him so easily!? Was it because of his edginess? Did his edgelord looking appearance actually got all the ladies to fall over heels for him!? Or maybe he cheated this entire time! Yeah! That HAS to be-)

Vantias: (Turns to Hayner) Hey, spike boy!

Hayner: (Comes Back to Reality) Oh! Uhh....Yeah?

Vantias: You want some candy or not? Don't really care either way.

Hayner: ('Sigh') Yeah. Sure.

?????: I'm here.

Pence: (Turn to See a Very Familiar Face) Olette. You're finally here.

Hayner: Yeah. What took you so long?

Olette: ('Sigh') Sorry. (Make her Way to the Group While Wearing a Light Orange Sun Dress) I forgot bring the Valentine cards for you guys, at home earlier. (Gives Valentine Card to Each of the Boys) So I went all the way back there to get them. (Hands the Last Card Over to Vantias....In a Sudden Shy Like Manner) I even got one for, Vantias....

Vantias: (Eyes Widened a Bit in Genuine Surprise) Wait. Really?

Olette: Yeah. I-It's thanks for hanging out with and stuff.....

Vantias: Oh. Well, it's....no problem or anything. I mean, in all honesty, you really don't have to thank me for that at all, now that I think about it.

Olette: I know, but...(Finally Starts to Blush) I still wanna do something nice for you. So....p-please accept my thanks, okay?

Vantias: (Rubbing his Head Back and Forth in a bit if Confusion) Oookay....If that's what you really wanted.....You look nice by the way.

Olette: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise as her Blush Slightly Turns Bright Red) Y-You really think so?

Vantias: Yeah. Not sure if orange's your favorite color or not, but I still think it suits you at least.

Olette: (Smiles Softly) Aww~ Thanks, Vantias. I think you look great too.

Vantias: You think so? (Looks Down at his Black Loose Button Collared Shirt Before Looking Back at Olette) I'm only wearing everything black today. It's not really that special.

Olette: Are you kidding? You look great!.....(Continues Talking to Vantias)

Pence: (Witness the Entire Scene with the Others) So Olette has a crush on Vantias all along, huh?

Roxas: Did not see that one coming....(Turns to Hayner) What do you think, Hayner?

Hayner: (Eyes and Mouth Widened in a Complete Shock and Stand Still)...........

Roxas: Uhh...Hayner?

Pence: (Wave his Hand in front of a Stunt Hayner) Roxas, I think he's broken.

Roxas: (Sighs While Rolling his Eyes) Of course he is....

Pence: You wanna try snapping him back to reality?

Roxas: Nah. (Makes his way to Olette and Vantias) He'll come back to his senses eventually.

Pence: (Shrugs) Okay. (Follows Roxas Behind While Leaving Hayner in his Place)

@khtext

@26shann

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@miki-13

@italian-love-cake

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

#kingdom hearts #roxas #hayner #pence #vantias #olette #humor #friendship #hayner's a bit of a ladies' man here #vantias edginess has already made him popular with the ladies in town lol #a bit of fluff #valentine's month #xion (mentioned)#lea (mentioned)#isa (mentioned)#edited

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eyeslikefoxglove · 4 years

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Episode 10 - Tywin Lannister called, he wants the Rains of Castamere back & once again, Foxglove cheers when someone gets shanked

Hiiiii! Welcome to episode 10 commentary! I’m doing this one right after episode 9 because for once in my life I started on this early enough in the day I can get more than one single episode in. Hope you enjoy!

Before I descend into several “wtf is wrong with this guy” rants, let me point a funny to y’all. The corpse that WWX checks for pupillary changes is not only breathing, you can see his carotid pulse jumping on his neck.

Ok done.

WHAT THE FUCK THAT’S A LITTLE GIRL WHAT THE FUCK.

Fuck this creeper oh my god. I know he’s supposed to have a tragic past and be cute and charismatic but I just want to shush him every time he opens his mouth.

(XXC truly looks like an elven prince doesn’t he)

Aaaaaand WWX gives zero fucks about your dramatic exit stage right.

He also gives zero fucks about the fight to the death happening right in front of him, I mean, why would he when he can flirt with LWJ instead?

Speaking of said fight, I really hope they sped up the footage of them spinning through the air, because if whatever machine and harnesses they used truly spun them so fast I feel for the actors/body doubles.

Hey XXC that’s your boyfriend right there!

Today is really not XY’s day is it.

(That disgusted face WWX makes is pretty much a visual representation of what I feel when XY tries to be cute. Seriously)

SHUT UP XY MY BOY IS HAVING A FANBOY MOMENT.

I can’t believe I’m saying this but he’s got a point. Not in this case, because these five are actually good people but the rich and powerful are indeed a bunch of hypocrites. *Softly plays Eat the Rich*

LWJ is a hairsbreadth away from slapping XY out of his faux-innocent act and I can’t say I fault him tbh. And WWX is fucking smug because he is the king of being a little shit and this amateur got nothing on him.

Is Zhu Zanjin wearing eyeliner or are his eyelashes actually that incredible?

I’m making pained noises because I keep wondering what would’ve happened if WWX had asked XXC for help after people mounted a witch hunt against him and why do I keep doing this to myself?

WWX: *talks about his boyfriend*

JC: *eyeroll*

Oh my god this bit is so painful. You can see how starved WWX is about finding the smallest connection with his mum and my soul hurts.

And LWJ’s face watching them go. He’s probably just realised this was a dream you could have, and there it is, walking away. I’m gonna go make myself some tea and eat some cake or something, I deserve it after all this emotional turmoil.

(Aaaaaaand there goes XY being a fucking creep again)

LOOK AT MY TWO LIL CUPCAKES BEING FUCKING ADORABLE WHEN THEY GET PRAISED. LOOK AT THEM.

We’ve already established that I have the survival instincts of a concussed lemming but NMJ is a dude I want to get into a shouting match with. I don’t dislike him or anything and he’s badass, but watching this is obvious a five year old with an attitude can push his buttons. And he’s both a political leader and has a whole baby brother to take care off, you can’t allow yourself to get so angry you contemplate murder in your living room my dude. Furthermore, I know his way of cultivation makes him even more unstable and prone to Qi deviation; but instead of finding a way to work around that this idiot is ok with dying young and leaving everyone who loves him fucking devastated. Because why? It’s the way of his clan? It’s traditional? It’s honourable? Fuck that, no wonder NHS dislikes sword fighting so much if that’s going to eventually kill his big brother.

NMJ: I am a just and frank man, I fear nothing in presence of sinners like you.

Me, with a megaphone: HUBRIS IS A BITCH

The One Braincell Trio being MY fanboys gives me life *insert another million canon-divergences in which they befriend MY and everything is less Lannister red as a result*

THIS ASSHOLE IS2G SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE THAT ABOUT MY MUM AND NO ONE WILL FIND THE BODY.

Ok, NMJ called Lan Yi “the great talented leader of the Lan”, I want to pick a less violent fight with him now.

Wei “let me be damn sexy while drinking” Wuxian back at it again.

WUJI IS ON! MOONLIGHT! ROOFTOPS!

WWX: Lan Zhan I’ll sleep on your roof tonight

LWJ: Wei Ying I have to go

WWX: Lan Zhan I’ll sleep on your roof tonight

LWJ: Wei Ying, there’s room in my bed if we snuggle.

There, I fixed it. (Here I come again, joking to hide the pain. Parting is such sweet sorrow and all that)

... oh hey I’d never noticed how big Wang YiBo’s hands are and now I’m in trouble. Which is funny, cause LWJ is v much not my type, but Wang YiBo apparently is now? I mean, I’ve reblogged stuff about him because he’s ridiculously beautiful but...

*falls down a google images rabbit hole*

...

Yeah I can safely say I’m into Wang YiBo’s badboy-prettyboy-coolboy-gremlinboy attitude.

Anyway back to the show:

That was a fucking great sword throw and I love the little smirk MY’s wearing.

... what did I just see?

I don’t know how to describe it, but when WZL sticks the tip of his sword into the flat of NMJ’s sabre and drives him back and you see then go through the frame in front of WC? That’s like the most ridiculous anthropomorphic version of a train dragging a car along the tracks. All that’s missing is the “nyooooom” sound.

Speaking of WZL that’s one coolheaded dude.

Ok, I’m going to go down a Meng Yao rabbit hole again. Brace yoselves.

At risk of sounding like NHS I really don’t know why MY would’ve set XY free. I mean, if he gets XY and the Yin Iron back to WRH he’s got the chief cultivator’s favour... but everyone and their mum wants WRH out of the scene, including as far as he knows Daddy Dearest. He’s clever enough to realise there’s going to be a war, so he might’ve though that if he put himself up as a spy this soon it would’ve benefited the, yet nonexistent, SunShot Campaign. In the book he also murders his bully of a superior right before “defecting” and becoming a spy, and much like in here, NMJ catches him and stabbing happens. Do I think he, like the Jins, was playing both sides during the war? Yeah, but in this instance if I were him I wouldn’t trust in the benevolence of a man who makes puppets out humans for funsies, especially seeing how much he gets bullied.

Now if we go the other direction, of wrong place wrong time, MY doesn’t seem displeased with the Nies. I mean, NMJ and NHS like and respect him as far we’ve seen, NMJ even follows his advise. Why would he want to risk his fucking neck against NMJ just to get a potential in (that again depends on WRH liking him) to spy in a potential war? Call me a hufflepuff, but I’d stay put. Right before NMJ finds MY murdering someone we hear the voice of he asshole captain who loves to mess with MY, same captain that wasn’t present when confronting WC and that was really fucking drunk last night. I’m not saying this man works for the Wens, but hangovers make you sluggish and tired, who’s to say XY didn’t actually break tf out if this yahoo was the one guarding him (back again to the bit when MY asked the captain to post extra guards and the captain told him where to stick it, we don’t know if he actually doubled the guard) and MY walked in on it. Now this asshole has the perfect scapegoat! The *insert his preferred MY slur* did it! He saw it! And MY either panics or snaps and gets stabby.

Listen, it’s murder either way, and I won’t pretend MY doesn’t have a whole alphabet of plans for every situation, but damn I cheered.

Shut the fuck up WC.

My one track mind is shrieking because MY has a stab wound in his chest and he’s just... chilling? (Like a villain lol)

Did y’all see the fan smacking the hand bit? Now that I’ve seen the whole thing is evident, but that’s pretty much the same exact show as at the beginning with the “mysterious man”. Ooooohhhh I love the hints!

HOLY FUCK NMJ IS CRYING (my 3zun ship is sailing y’all can’t stop me).

Speaking of 3zun if y’all could point me to nice fics where everything doesn’t go up in flames for these three idiots I’d appreciate it.

And that’s all for this episode. Thanks for reading.

#cql #the untamed #mdzs live action #mdzs #foxglove watches cql #foxglove watches the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #jiang wanyin #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guanyao #3zun #Foxglove cheers when someone gets shanked #again #foxglove babbles

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notsoharsh · 4 years

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How to Make a Mimesicle || Kaden & Harsh

Kaden and Harsh’s accent comparison gets a very rude interruption. Flipped needs a new... well, everything.

Comparing accents was probably one of the weirder excuses Harsh had found to meet up with someone, well… recently at least. No one in White Crest ever wanted to just go for coffee, it always had to be something a little odd. Whatever, he wasn’t complaining. Kaden seemed alright. The last, and well only, time they had met before, he hadn’t been in the best shape, but Harsh could hardly blame him for that. Getting stabbed didn’t generally put people in a great mood. Hopefully tonight would end a little less bloody. Harsh got to Flipped a little early, scouting out a booth near the back. As… retro as the place looked, it seemed harmless enough. He spent a few minutes flicking through the menu before the sound of the door opening caught his ears. Head tipping up, a slight grin slid onto his face as he lifted a hand. “Kaden, over here man. Saved you a seat.”

Ever since they tried and apparently failed to blow up that fucking mime restaurant, Kaden couldn’t help but check behind his back every few mintues, make sure nothing was following him. Maybe it was the paranoia of being caught for something that apparnelty had no fucking conseuqences or it was all the reports of mime clones, but he couldn’t help it. He took one last drag of his cigarette before he threw it to the ground and stomped it out, swinging open the door and stepping inside. Had to say, he was pretty sure the last time he was at Flipped was when he struck a deal with Morgan that ended up with the very jacket he was wearing now, all good and new. He caught sight of Harsh and gave a nod before heading over to take a seat. Honestly, he still doubted anyone who wasn’t French could hold a proper conversation but he was willing to take the challenge, find out. Why not, he didn’t have much better to do. Plus, getting his mind off mimes seemed like it was for the best. Still, didn’t like sitting with his back to the door. Putain, he was getting fucking paranoid now. “Hey. Or rather, bonjour,” he said, smug smile on his face. “Have to say, I think there might be more people in this town who speak French than half of Maine. I didn’t expect that when moving here.”

“Yeah? I haven’t met too many yet. So far, I think it’s just you, and me, of course.” Switching tracks was relatively easy. It had been a while since Harsh had had a reason to break out his French, but slipping back into it was as natural as… well, it was far more natural than breathing was now, actually. There was something nice about getting back into it. Sixty years with the language had given him a pretty solid grasp, and… maybe he liked showing off a little. He shifted in the booth, kicking his feet up onto the empty space at his side. “So what brought you to White Crest? I’m guessing it wasn’t cause the mimes in France weren’t terrifying enough.” His grin grew, one eyebrow rising in a slight challenge. Maybe it wasn’t the best move to bring up the mimes first thing, but they seemed to be on everyone’s mind lately. Harsh had heard a few weird rumors going around. Well, more than usual anyway. There wasn’t a week that went by without some kind of nonsense throwing everything into chaos. “Sorry, that’s probably a sore spot. Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I know at least three others,” Kaden replied. And funny enough two of them were hunters. “Maybe four or five. Depends on if you count Colombian French.” The accent wasn’t bad. But he wasn’t going to ever admit it. He couldn’t allow himself to ever say that anyone who wasn’t from France was good enough at French. Those were just the rules. Still, it was always nice to have a conversation in his native language. It always felt easier. “Putain de merde, no. If I knew there was this much bullshit mime crap, I never would have moved here.” He rolled his eyes. It seemed like no one would ever stop teasing him about this mime shit so long as he stayed in town. He probably should get over it, but he refused to get used to it. “It’s fine. But I’ll take your free coffee.” It was strange, he felt it again, that odd chill down his spine. It wasn’t the werewolf sense, not at all. Just a bad fucking feeling. “So. You're alright. Where’d you learn?” There was a bell signifying the door opening, but not a single other sound. That wasn’t unusual, right? He looked over his shoulder. Was that… a flash of black and white stripes? No. Couldn’t be. Fuck.

“Really? You’ll have to introduce me sometime. The only French that doesn’t count is whatever the hell they speak in Canada,” Harsh said, with a little chuckle. It wasn’t often that just talking to someone was fun, but Kaden was interesting, a little rough around the edges, sure, but Harsh would be a pretty big hypocrite if he knocked him for that. “I lived in France for six years. I hung around Paris mostly. I know, very touristy--” He trailed off, half looking for a waitress to order that coffee. But then he glanced back at Kaden and frowned. His mouth was half open to ask what was the matter when he started following the path of Kaden’s eyes with his own. “Holy shit. What… what is that?” Harsh looked between Kaden and… the thing that had just walked in. Every muscle in him went tense. Whoever it was that just walked in looked… well, just like the guy sitting across from him, except with a really, really shitty sense of fashion. “Friend of yours?” he asked, voice low, his tone forced. The silence in the air was heavy, unnaturally so. Whatever that thing was, Harsh could tell with just a look that it probably wasn’t friendly.

“Paris, of course.” Kaden shook his head with a small laugh. At least the guy was aware of how cliche it was. “I’m from Lyon. Grew up there. Ended up in Montreal eventually so trust me when I say you don’t want to hear how any of them speak up there.” His brows knit together as he saw the look of shock across Harsh’s face. He turned back to see his paranoia more than confirmed. Looking up was like looking in a mirror. Well, a funhouse mirror. Or a nightmare. Before he could say putain, the mime was pulling Kaden out of the booth by his shirt and threw him on the ground before kicking him in the gut. Shit, he didn’t fight this dirty, did he? That was some bullshit. Kaden ducked and rolled out of the way, wincing in pain to avoid a second kick. He was fumbling to pull out a knife from his boot when he saw a flash of a blade come down. Kaden went to cover his face with his arm, but the knife slammed right into his foot, through the boot. Kaden howled in pain. What the fuck? And was that a fucking knife shaped like a baugette? Did he just get his foot slashed by a bread knife? Shit. He took his free foot and kicked his own fucking grease painted face. Probably shouldn’t have felt as cathartic as it did.

Cursing under his breath, Harsh jolted in his seat. He had seen plenty of wild things in White Crest, but this one was going to take the fucking cake. For a second, he stared, mouth open, shock freezing him in place. It lasted only a moment before he sprang to his feet, letting out a yell as he tackled the terrifying version of Kaden. They both fell to the floor in a heap, elbows and knees flying. Not for the first time, Harsh was a bit glad he didn’t need to breathe or the air would have been driven from his lungs a dozen times over. Still, Not Kaden clearly knew how to land blows that hurt. Rearing back, Harsh drove his fist into that horrific copy of Kaden’s face before frantically glancing about. “Knife--where’s his fucking knife?” His question was answered a second later as the blade slashed across his side, a fist following it, sending him crashing back to the floor, hissing in pain. He expected another strike, but it didn’t come. Huh, apparently he wasn’t the target here. “Kaden, move!”

Kaden was shocked at how fast Harsh reacted, throwing himself into the fight and holding his own against this mime fucker. Was he a hunter, too? Maybe. Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter. The knife ripped out of Kaden’s foot with a sick squelching sound. Hurt like a bitch, too. Shit, didn't have time to care about that as he watched it swing and dig into Harsh’s side. Putain. He grabbed his own knife that he was hiding in his now very punctured boot. It was almost like the mime could mirror his movements, though. As soon as he put his arm up to shield himself from the nex attack, the knife tore into his arm. Fuck. He knew it looked like him, why the fuck did it know how to fight like him. He couldn't out think himself. It wasn’t possible. Still, he took all his weight and threw himself into the mime, hoping to knock him out of focus long enough for Kaden to toss the knife to Harsh. “Here!”

“Shit.” This fucker meant business. Harsh scrambled up, barely catching the knife. Kaden had the mime’s attention, he could run, leave the pair of them to duke it out. No, no that definitely wasn’t good. He shifted his grip on the knife as he rushed in. The mime was occupied, too busy trying to maul Kaden to see him coming. Grabbing that shaggy hair, Harsh yanked the mime’s head back roughly and dragged the knife across his throat. Whatever poured out of the wound… it wasn’t blood. The smell was wrong, the color too. It spilled down the mime’s front, far thicker than blood should be. Harsh took a step back, forcing down unnecessary breaths to make his chest heave as the mime sank to the floor. The… whatever it was lay there for only a moment before a cloud of smoke appeared from nowhere, the stripes of it more than unnatural. And then the body was gone. Harsh turned his incredulous eyes to Kaden. “The hell was that thing?”

Some of the black ooze splattered on Kaden’s face as he watched the blade slip across his clone’s neck. It was fucking weird seeing his own throat getting slit. Even a terrifying mime version of himself. Huh,did his hair really look like that in the back? Shit, he didn’t get long to wonder. The bastard oozed more sludge and then went up in a striped puff of smoke. “Putain de merde,” he muttered mostly to himself, running a hand through his hair as he sunk back down to sit on the floor. “I don’t know. Heard people talking about mime clones. Guess I’m just lucky enough to get one too.” What the fuck had just happened? And more importantly, how had his latest aqcuaintence handled that so adeptly? “Thanks. By the way. You do this kind of shit a lot?” He should probably stand, get off the floor, maybe sit in a booth, order the whole pot of coffee. Then he heard the fucking bell in the door jingle again and he tensed up. No. It couldn’t be. There was no fucking way.

Leaning heavily on the booth, Harsh pressed a hand to his side. At least the jacket he was wearing hid the fact that he wasn’t bleeding quite as much as he probably should be. He could pass it off, say the cut wasn’t that deep. “Do I kill a lot of mimes that look like people I know? Nah, that’s a first for me. But uh…” He had a good line about fighting, being able to hold his own, but it shriveled up and died on his tongue as he looked to the door. His shoulders fell. “Oh come on.” Harsh turned, grabbing for Kaden’s hand, trying to tug him to his feet. “This thing is just gonna keep coming, we’ve gotta go, man.” He looked around, mentally scrambling. There had to be something--another way out of this place, or somewhere they could trap that fucking thing. His eyes found the backdoor and he started toward it, yanking Kaden along with him. “We’ve gotta get out of here, now.”

Cursed. Kaden was fucking cursed. That’s what it had to be. Moving to this town somehow invoked a goddamn mime curse on him. Everyone else said their doppelgangers disappeared. But here was this fucker coming through the goddamn door again. And he wasn’t aware his own face could look that angry. Putain. He scrambled up off the floor with Harsh’s help, hissing in pain as he stepped on his injured foot. Shit, that was going to take a while to recover even with super healing. Kaden’s eyes darted back and forth as the mime came closer. Back door was close, sure, but after they ran out? He couldn’t make a dash for it, not like this. And he was sure this piece of shit would keep coming. His eyes landed on the kitchen door. “Over here,” he said, darting to the door, shoving Harsh through. “Find something to trap him, anything!” Shit, might be hard. If what he knew was right, this shit had his own enhanced strength. Fuck. He turned back to the mime version of himself, waving his arms to get his attention, something he really didn’t need to do. “Hey! Right here, connard! Follow me!” Kaden shouted in French. He then ran through the door, his clone close behind. Hopefully Harsh was quick on his feet or this was going to end poorly.

The kitchen? What the hell was he supposed to use to fight a mime in a kitchen? But Kaden had a point, dragging that thing out into the world wasn’t going to make dealing with it any easier. At least the kitchen staff seemed intent on making themselves scarce, so there was no one stopped Harsh as he frantically rushed about. What could they use? Where could they put this damn thing? His eyes darted about, stopping on the heavy metal door of the walk-in fridge. Huh… that might work. Harsh rushed over, hauling it open and glancing inside. Oh yeah, definitely enough room for a mime. “Get it in here,” he called over his shoulder, already looking around for something to bar the door with. He remained rooted to the spot. The second Kaden got the damn thing inside, he meant to slam it shut.

Running sucked a fucking lot right then. He could feel blood sloshing around in his shoe. Didn’t matter, he just had to get the fucking mime trapped. After he popped into the kitchen, Kaden hid to the side, waiting. The second he saw that stupid fucking beret and mop of hair walk through, he swung a punch right in his own face. Bastard dodged enough to miss the full impact of his fist. It was still covered in grease paint, all the same. And enough to throw the mime off balance. Kaden took his bloody elbow and slammed it into the side of his body double. The fucker came back with a knife. Of course. Kaden reached out and grabbed for the knife and got his wrist. Before he could turn it, the mime and yanked his own in a circle, pulling the joint the wrong way. Fucking shit, this wasn’t going graet. His head shot over to look at Harsh at his words. Great. Fridge. He could do that. Hopefully. Kaden stomped his foot down (the good one) onto the mime’s and used the wince of pain to pull his arm free and run. Well, hobble in a running fashion. The mime didn’t even look like anything Kaden had done had phased him; it was barreling down on him like it had no other focus than the hunt and Kaden was his prey. Not a position Kaden liked to be in. He dodged past counters, grabbing a shitty kitchen knife off one of them along the way, and ran round tables before planting himself in front of the open door. The mime pushed his way there, and rushed at Kaden, full speed ahead, knife in hand. Thank god he could count on his stupid impulses to be good for something. Kaden waited, stood his ground, until the last fucking second when the threw himself out of the way, sending the mime tumbling into the fuckin freezer. “Close it! Fucking close it!!” he shouted.

Harsh didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the mime stumbled in, he slammed the door of the fridge shut and held it tight with all his might. There was a frantic thumping against it, the mime clearly not too happy with his new environment. The door shifted, but only just, the weight of it and Harsh’s strength keeping it from moving even an inch. “We gotta get something in front of it!” He glanced about, panicked. “Grab something! Can you move the stove?” Kaden seemed to be quite a bit stronger than he looked, especially if his twisted double was any indication. Harsh grit his teeth, shoulder slammed against the door as he forced it to remain in place. “I can’t keep this up forever, man.” Even vampire strength has its limits, though Harsh had never expected those to be tested by a fucking mime. If he never saw another one of them after this it would be too damn soon.

Kaden should have known better than to assume it was over once the door slammed. Shit. He pushed himself up and started looking around for something heavy. Not a damn thing came to mind until Harsh shouted about the stove. “The fucking stove?” He could see the other guy struggling. Fuck. Stove it was. He shoved the tables and shit out of the way and pulled back on the stove, dragging it out as far as he could before running to the other side and shoving it with all his strength. “Move!” He shouted before slamming it in to place right up against the door. He backed off a moment. The pounding against the door continued but it seemed to hold. Kaden sighed as relief washed through him and he leaned against the stupid stove. A quick glance around and it was impressive how quickly they’d manage to trash the place. Guess he couldn’t give Ricky too much shit about Al’s now. Wouldn’t stop him. “Uh, think we should put up a sign or something?”

At Kaden’s shout, Harsh jerked out of the way, the stove taking his place. He leaned against the wall, forcing down a few unneeded breaths. He faintly shook his head. “Y’know, now I’m really sorry for teasing you about the mime shit. These fuckers really seem to hate you.” Pushing himself off the wall, he glanced at the thumping door. Hopefully no one would be stupid enough to open that for a while. A sign? Harsh cocked an eyebrow and glanced around. No pens, but… there was a squeeze bottle of ketchup. He grabbed it and leaned over the stove, writing ‘occupied’ on the fridge door. “There. So… I’m thinking we go somewhere else to get that coffee I owe you?”

#chatzy #c: kaden #potw: hear no evil #chasseurdeloup #what a fun time~

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tcockwood · 4 years

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From Lockwood to Cockwood

Hi, My name is Tyler.

I have Schitzophrenia and am a wolf/vampire hybrid. Growing up, many people knew me as Tyler Lockwood. I was your normal teenage, jock asshole. I had an air of confidence about me that told people I didn’t give two fucks. I had a girlfriend, well two that meant anything anyway. I had friends. I had parents. The usual shit. I also had the Un-usual shit. A family curse of sorts that triggered physically painful transformations. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I am a werewolf. But wait..There’s more. I am also part vampire, but I won’t bore you with too many details about that. I have this really bad habit of jerking off into coupons and will basically fuck anything living or inanimate when the mood strikes.

[I look around the room at the widened eyes and blank expressions on the faces of those around me. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I locate the small flask of moonshine and lift it to my lips for a swig. I feel the cool metal touching my warm lips as the liquid slides down my throat in a slow hot burn of comfortable heat.]

Where was I? Oh! That’s right.. So anyways, I snapped and the mental illness kinda took over. I started drinking more. I mean, who the fuck in this town hasn’t started drinking? Am I right? Half of us started before we were 17. Elena was probably fucking half of them.

[A cackle belts across the room, echoing off the walls.]

Any of you tried coke? Holy fucking shit that stuff will have you bouncing off the walls. I remember this time I snorted a line off this random chick’s ass and…

[I heard a few gasps and someone stood up. “That is ENOUGH! You need to leave right now.” I took another sip of my moonshine and looked around again before I realized where I was.]

Ah shit. My bad, Father Thomas. I thought this was the compulsive masturbators support group.

[A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I stand up and put my flask back into my pocket. Walking toward the door, I turn toward the church goers and shout back.]

You guys ever see a man urinate into the holy water?

[I cackle maniacally, reaching into my pants to pull out my dick and let the stream of piss pour out into the holy water bowl near the door. When I had finished, I Tucked myself back in and ran from the church laughing while a security guard chased after me. The next morning I woke up hung over as usual, Some random chick passed out in the bed next to me. Her blonde hair sprawled across the pillow as I shove her shoulder with a groan.]

Yo. Whatever your name is.. Get the fuck up.

[I give her another shove till she rolls off the bed with a loud thud, groaning before she gets insulted. “What the fuck?” I pull the sheets around me and stand up, locating her clothes and tossing them at her.]

I didn’t say you could crash here. Obviously I was drunk as fuck. Maria will give you Uber money on the way out.

[I wave my hand dismissively then hold my head as I shuffle across the room. My fucking head was throbbing as if there was a high school marching band. Didn’t this chicken head realize that Cockwood doesn’t do Velcro? I’m a one and done kinda guy. Relationships only fuck you up in the head. Look at me. It triggered massive Schitzophrenia the last time I even thought about it. Nope, one and done was how it would be from now on. I climbed over the scattered beer cans and bottles, noting the cocaine left over from my adventures last night on the night stand. I waited for the random bitch to pull on her clothes and leave the house with her purse in tow and the cash Maria gave her for a cab home. Once the coast was clear and I had showered the headache right outta myself, I had a bloody Mary and scarfed some day old donuts I left on the counter.]

When will I learn? ((That you are an asshole and always will be one?)) Oh here we fucking go again.

[The voice in my head always chimed in with her annoying New Jersey accent to remind me how fucked up I was. Yes, my voice was female and she didn’t care for me much.]

((How’s that head? You sick?)) [I could hear her thumping the walls of my head, speaking loudly in that ridiculous voice of hers.]

Actually, My head feels fine, bitch. Thanks to the Excedrin I took before my shower.. ((Ya know what would be fun? Huh?? Do you wanna know, Fuck face?)) [I took a bottle of tequila from the freezer, lifting it to my lips. Cold liquor was gliding down my throat, warming my insides. This was always a welcome feeling when the PM would start her shit.] ((You should see a therapist and work out your stupidity so I would be able to rest for a change. Dick.)) Nah. That wouldn’t be fun at all. I have a better idea..

[I looked around for the usual stash of booze but each hiding place I checked the bottles were empty or just about empty.]

Fuck. Ok...A liquor run is needed.

[I tossed my backpack over my shoulders, knowing I would need something to carry my haul home in then made my way to the front door. I stumbled over the top step because let’s face it..I was hung over and not fully awake. ((You don’t need more of that shit, Asshole. You are already fucked up.)) She was tapping her foot against my skull, arms folded across her chest in annoyance but I ignored her. I groan, slipping my hand into my back pocket to retrieve one of the joints I rolled up for my outing. Using my Hello Kitty lighter I ignite the flame and take a drag, inhaling the smoke into my lung and holding it for a few beats before releasing the smoke.]

That’s a good fucking batch!

[I could instantly feel the high start to cloud my brain and I loved every second of it. I was relaxed as fuck and ready to tackle the day. When I stepped off the front porch I saw a shiny red tricycle on the lawn next door. My eyes grew wide and I decided I HAD to have it. Not even sure why, but I wanted it. I looked around to see if anyone was watching and I acted like a ninja, hiding behind bushes and ninja rolling across the lawn until I had been within reach of my intended target. I waited until the mom had gone inside, making my move. I shove the little boy off the tricycle and laugh hard, running off with it tucked under my arm. Halfway down the road I could hear the mom yelling. “TYLER LOCKWOOD! What are you doing?!” I could only laugh as I hopped on the trike and peddled away.]

I shall call you Betsy! We will be great friends, won’t we?

[I peddle Betsy through town, terrorizing the town’s people. I rode through the grocery store, picking up a bag of apples. I would randomly toss an apple at people who were in my path of destruction, cackling at the top of my lungs. I knocked over produce, used a broom from the cleaning aisle to drag across shelves and pull everything off. The best part was, I didn’t give a shit. ((Oh my God, Tyler! Stop it! What are you doing?!)) The voice tried to stop me but to no avail. I was having FUN for the first time in a while. The security guards tried to catch me but I was really fast peddling that little thing around. I headed toward the doors, the automatic door triggering open. I watch as one guard stands in front of me and I grin darkly, holding up the broom like it was a lance and I was one of those medieval times knights charging at the enemy. His eyes went wide as I peddled closer, hooking the broom under his dick.]

YEAH! Take that ya little dick BITCH!

[A victorious roar belts from my lips as I peddle around the man who dropped with a squeal, out on the sidewalk I peddle past Old man Jenkins and toss an apple at him before laughing. ((You just hit an old man you jerk!)) Up ahead I spot the newsstand in front of the deli, the newspapers being my next target. I peddle by and grab a stack, shredding them up like confetti only to sprinkle the bits of paper all over the ground. The voice in my head started playing music from the Benny Hill show.]

OH Shit! I almost passed the Liquor store!

[I screech to a halt and spin the Tricycle around to go back. I ride through the door, hearing the tiny chime of a little bell above me. I look around in thought, wondering which bottles would be mine today. The owner behind the counter gives me a side eye glance. “Tyler don’t you start any shit in here today, young man.” I wave a hand dismissively.]

Yeah, yeah..

[I stand up and start shoving bottles into my bag, Vodka, Tequila, Rum, Whiskey and others, popping some airplane size bottles into my pockets as well.]

Oh snacks!

[I jam a few bags of chips and a box of Hoho and Funny Bones snack cakes into the bag. My head turns when I spot a gorgeous ass in a tight pair of jean shorts, tattoos all over and fire red hair. I could feel my dick get hard behind my jeans, grunting like a true animal.]

Dayum, baby..How have I not had you in my bed before?

[I smirk, using the sharpie I kept in my pocket to write my name and number on the bottle of Margarita mix she held in her hand then lift my finger to my lips as if this was our secret when I take it from her and slip it into to her purse. The owner steps from behind the counter. “Lockwood, what are you doing?! Get over here!” I laugh hard, grabbing Betsy and starting to run. I call over my shoulder at the pretty Red head.]

For a good time, call me! Tyler COCKwood.

[I jog over and grab a handful of scratch off tickets before I make my exit to the outside once more, maniacally laughing my ass off. My new friend Betsy and I peddling our way back home to have some much needed drinks.]

#BigBadTyler

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years

Text

Outside the Rain - Harry Styles (Part 4)

Part 3

Harry stared in his closet for what seemed liked ages. He had no fucking clue on what he was going to wear that night. You had finally agreed to come to his house for dinner and he was practically shitting bricks with house nervous he was. He knew this wasn’t technically a date because neither of you had put a label on it.

And that was the main reason he was freaking out over what to wear. He didn’t want to dress over the top, but he didn’t want to underdress either. So, finally he decided on a simple black button up shirt and a pair of cream colored trousers. He looked in the mirror as he ran his hands through his hair trying to get it to look right.

Once he was ready, he went to the kitchen and started making dinner. He decided on a making a bit of a rice stir fry with a salad. He also bought some cupcakes for dessert.

“Okay, I think we’re good,” he said to himself.

You were supposed to arrive in about 30 minutes, so he did a quick walk through making sure there wasn’t any dirty laundry in the floor and the bathroom was spick and span. The closer it got to your arrival time the more nervous he felt. He wondered if you got nervous around him or felt butterflies whenever you thought of him.

The way he was feeling about you was scaring him a bit especially not knowing if you were feeling the same way. He knew he would have to bring this up eventually, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t want to make it awkward or make it seem like he expected you to consider dating him since you two were talking and hanging out.

The sound of a car pulling into his driveway brought him out of his thoughts. He did a quick check in the mirror again as he waited for the doorbell to ring. As soon as it did, he waited a few seconds before walking to the door and opening it. He smiled when he saw you. You were wearing a pair of cropped black overalls with a band t-shirt underneath and a pair of black and white platform vans. Your hair was twisted into a bun on top of your head and you were holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“I uh, I brought you some flowers,” you smiled holding them out to him.

He laughed, “I don’t think I’ve ever had girls bring me flowers.. I mean other than on tour.”

“Well, glad I could be the first,” you winked making your way into his house.

“I hope you like stir fry,” he said. “I have everything prepped and ready to go, so it should only take about ten or fifteen minutes to throw it all together.”

“Okay, sounds good. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“Um, if you want to pour us some wine, that’d be good. I pulled a bottle already,” he said.

You nodded opening the bottle and pouring the red liquid into the two glasses. You took a sip from yours before handing him his glass.

“It smells delicious,” you smiled.

“Are you already ready to mark your words?” He smirked.

“Not even close. Just because it smells good doesn’t mean it tastes good,” you smirked.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to be judging me like this is a show of fucking Masterchef or some shit,” he laughed.

“Because you talked a lot of shit about how good your cooking was, so the scale is pretty fucking high,” you smirked.

He laughed shaking his head before plating the food. He carried them to the table, while you carried the bowl of salad. You both sat down and he stared at you.

“What?” you asked pushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Just waiting...” he said.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh before taking your first bite.

“And?” He asked.

You shrugged,” It’s alright”

“Funny,” Harry rolled his eyes with a laugh.

After dinner, you helped him clean up the dishes before you two went into his living room and sat down. You were eating a cupcake and you had some icing on your lip.

“These are really good,” you said. “Did you get them from the Bakery down the street?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Um... you have a little something...”

Harry reached over and wiped the icing from the edge of your lip with his napkin causing you to blush.

“Um, thanks,” you said. “Cupcakes are definitely not the easiest the eat unless you want a face covered in icing.”

“That’s usually why most people lick the icing off first,” he laughed.

“I’m not most people,” you smirked. “Besides what’s the point of just eating the cake part... no one likes cake without icing.”

“You know you make a good point,” he laughed.

“I make a lot of good points,” you smirked.

He shook his head with a laugh taking a bite of his own cupcake.

“So, any word on when we might be hearing some music from HS2? I mean that is why you came to LA isn’t it?” You asked licking a bit of icing that had gotten on your finger.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirked.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” you joked.

“To answer part of your question, yes, recording for my next album was part of the reason I come to LA this week,” he nodded. “As far as when you’ll be hearing new music, I’m not sure yet.”

“Why not?” you asked turning to face him on the couch.

“Well, see, last time I had this pressure for myself to make the best album that I could and an album that I’m proud of, you know? And I did. I made the best fucking album I could,” he stated. “And to be completely fucking honest here, I want to do that again, but what if I can’t. What if the last album is the best album I’m ever going to make? I mean, yeah I can make more albums and write more songs, but will they ever be close to that album or better? I just don’t want to release something out in the world unless I’m proud of it and I don’t know when that’s going to happen.”

You bit your lip moving closer to where Harry was sitting, “I get what you’re going through. But sometimes we just have to make music we love and remind ourselves that as long as we put our heart and soul, blood, sweat, and tears into a song or into an entire album, then it is our best work. And it’s okay if that doesn’t happen this year or even next year, it’ll happen when it happens and when you’re ready, I better be the first person who hears it,” you joked.

“I could possibly make that arrangement,” he smirked. “And speaking of new music, you’ve been in the studio as well, so when will I be hearing some of yours.”

You took a sip of your wine, “Actually,” you said. “What I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone. Like no one really knows about this, only a select few.”

“Okay,” he drug out looking at you. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“We’re... Y/Band’s/Name is getting back together,” you said. “The girls and I been in the studio working on songs for our next album.”

“Holy shit, really?” He asked.

You nodded, “Yeah, we’re keeping it super low key because we don’t want anyone knowing about it until we release the first single, which probably won’t be until this Summer at some point.”

“That’s really, fucking awesome, Y/N,” he smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you said. “And just so you know, if you tell anyone... I know people...” you smirked.

He laughed, “I honestly don’t doubt that.”

You two talked for a few more hours before Harry decided to turn on some music. You were grabbing another cupcake when you’re heard Miranda by Fleetwood Mac come through the speakers. You looked over at Harry, who was smirking at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked.

“Oh, no reason,” he shrugged. “I’m just waiting...”

“On, what exactly?” You asked.

“Oh nothing much... maybe a little bit of this... and a little bit of that,” he smirked mocking the dance moves you had done the other night to that very song.

And that’s when he dawned on you. “You.. uh... you saw that?” You blushed.

“I did,” he smirked.

“Oh my god,” you groaned throwing your hands over your face.

“It was cute, actually,” he smirked.

“Cute my ass,” you mumbled.

“Your ass is pretty cute...” he blurted out.

“Oh, really now?” You smirked. “You’ve been looking at my ass?”

“I uh... well.. I mean-” he stumbled.

“AH!” You smirked. “Anyway, I should probably get going actually it’s getting pretty late.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” Harry nodded looking at the clock. “Do want to take some Cupcakes with you?”

“I’d love too, but I already ate three,” you laughed. “So, I probably shouldn’t.”

He laughed following you to the door.

“When do you leave again?” You asked.

“Um, two days,” he said. “I’ll be going to New York though to work on the Met Gala.”

“Oh, that’s right. That’s coming up soon, isn’t it?” You asked.

“Yep, about a week and a half,” he said standing outside of your car.

“I’m sure it will be great,” you smiled.

“Have you ever gone?” He asked.

“I haven’t, no,” you shook your head.

“Um... would you want.. to uh go?” He asked rubbing his neck.

“Like with you?” You asked.

“I mean... yes... and no...” he said.

“What does that even mean?” You giggled.

He blushed looking down, “I mean...like we could go together, but not go together. I mean like walk the red carpet together...”

“Is this your way of asking me out on a date, Styles?” You asked.

“If you-if you want to call it that, yes,” he nodded.

“How about this?” You suggested. “You take me on a real first date, first, and then I’ll let you know about that one.”

His eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” you laughed. “Unless you don’t really want to go on a date...”

“Oh no! I do, I uh.. yeah,, I mean yeah, let’s go on a date,” he smiled.

“Okay then,” you smiled. “Let me know when you have it all planned out,” you smirked before getting into your car.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

What were you thinking? You not only agreed to go on a date with Harry, but you could eventually go on a date with him to the fucking Met Gala. You weren’t even sure where you wanted this to go, especially with all the other circumstances surrounding you and Harry.

You were at the studio with Daisy finishing up a song you two had started a few days ago.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She asked sipping her iced coffee. “Your mind is not here, so spill the tea.”

“The only tea to spill is the one I’m drinking,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, whatever,” she said. “I know there’s something going on. Now tell me what’s up with you.”

“Fucking fine,” you mumbled closing your journal and throwing the pen onto the table. “I told Harry I would go on a date with him.”

“HOLY SHIT!” She screamed.

“Seriously?” You groaned.

“Sorry, sorry, I uh, I just wow. I can’t believe it. I thought you said you didn’t want to pursue a relationship with him,” she said.

“That’s the thing though,” you sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to pursue anything with him, it’s that I shouldn’t. Not right now.”

“Well, shit, Y/N, if not now, then when?” She asked. “Both of you are in the music industry, so at least one of you, if not both of you will always be working on your music or on tour.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed.

“Look, if you like him, if you really feel a connection with him, then don’t let any other shit keep you from letting you see where this go,” she said.

“We both know that’s easier said than done,” you mumbled.

“And we both know the easy way out is never the answer,” she said.

Harry had no clue what he was going to do for the date. He had been taken by surprise at your response that he wasn’t sure how he wanted to go about doing this. Did he want to take you out to dinner to nice, expensive restaurant? Or maybe to a club?

He had no fucking clue. He was currently on his laptop, searching through different ideas on what to do for the date. He didn’t want to do anything too over the top, but he also didn’t want to settle for something either. He shut the laptop grabbing a piece of paper and just started writing whatever came to his mind.

And then finally he had a plan. He quickly got his phone out of his pocket and texted you.

Date tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 4:00.

Dun. Dun. Dun. How do you think the date is going to go???

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Outside the Rain

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