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chuckepisodes · 4 years

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Pilot Part 1

"Morgan, this is a bad idea." Chuck said panicking. "Well, we can't stay here, Chuck. " "I'm uncomfortable with the plan." "Plan? What plan? This is survival. " "That's her. We've been compromised. I'm a ghost." "Morgan, you can't leave me like this. You can't do this to me, man."

"Chuck, what are you doing?" Chuck's sister Ellie says coming in. "Uh, escaping." "From your own birthday party?" "Hey, Ellie. Wow, you look fan... tastic. " "Uh, you know, sis, the thing is, Morgan and I don't really feel like we're fitting in... at my birthday party, 'cause we don't know any body, 'cause they're all your friends and they all happen to be doctors." "Doctors who don't really get our jokes. " "Well, your jokes. " "Okay, my jokes." "Chuck, I have invited real, live women for you. And if you won't talk to them, Y/N is here for you too!"

You have been one of Chuck's best friends since childhood. You have always had a crush on him but were always too afraid to admit and the reasons being that one, you were afraid of admiting you liked him and ruining the friendship if he did not feel the same way and two, you were too awkward to do anything about it anyways. You did not know though that Chuck has always felt the same way too but too scared to admit for the same reasons. And he was afraid of you leaving him for someone else like his last girlfriend did.

"Really? She's here?" "Of course she is! She's your best friend! Why wouldn't she be here? So please...Let's go." Ellie said grabbing her brother's hand and leading him outside. "Morgan, you stay here." "Need a hand, buddy? " "No, no, no, I'm okay, I'm alright."

Once Chuck and Ellie got outside he felt all nervous seeing all the people out there. Ellie then got behind him and began pushing him more out there. "Birthday boy, come with me. We're going to be social. You are funny, you are smart, you are handsome." "Thank you." Chuck then saw Ellie's boyfriend, Devon aka Captain Awesome coming their way. "Oh, there's captain awesome." " Please don't call him that. " "Okay, I've identified some candidates for Chuck and they are awesome." Chuck looked over at Ellie for a second as Devon grabbed him and brought him over to the group of women. "Let me introduce you to Chuck, Ellie's brother." Devon said positioning Chuck right in front of the women. One of them came up and approached Chuck. "Hi, Chuck. We've heard so much about you. Are you in a costume?" Chuck looked at her weird. "No, I-I... I work for the Nerd Herd." "Nerd Herd? That is so cute." Another girl came up and approached him. "What do you really want to do?" "Working on my five-year plan. Just need to choose a font." The girl then looked down and grabbed his hand. "What happened here? Did you hurt your hand? " "No, no, it's, uh, from call of duty. The controller chafes after several hours." "So Ellie said you went to Stanford." " Yes, that's technically correct." " I graduated in '02. What was your major? " "Engineering. " "Oh, my god, I knew this great guy. He was an engineer, um, he ran track and I think he was a gymnast, too." "Bryce Larkin, he was my roommate." Chuck was starting to become uncomfortable now. "Oh, yes. What's he doing now?" " I think he's an accountant." "So, do you have a girlfriend? " "Uh, no... I did a while back at Stanford. Yeah. And her name was Jill. We met fresh man year." "Oh, that was a while back. " Chuck then started to go off. "I remember when I met Jill, I was... it was an economics class. I was walking across the quad and she had dropped her bag, and I was like, you know, rushing to... to go and pick it up for her, and, uh... and we kind of, like, did that whole, like, you know, kind of in a cartoon, kind of bumped heads, and... there was a whole gang of us... Jill and Bryce. We had so much in common then."

As that was going on Ellie went over to Devon knowing he was observing Chuck the whole time to see how we would do. "How's he doing? " "Not awesome. " "That's it. I need to find Y/N. She's got to be here somewhere. She can get him out of it."

Meanwhile, Chuck was still going on with his story not realizing all the girls left him. "So there I was, Jill with Bryce, me on a train home. I guess she though the was more exciting." He all of a sudden looked up and realized everyone had left but found his best friend Y/N standing in front of him. "You good there Chuck? You're talking to yourself." You said smiling trying not to laugh. Chuck looked up at you and smiled. "Very funny Y/N." He said with a smile on his face. "You know I need to tease." Chuck laughed softly and got up to give you a big hug. "Thanks for coming Y/N." "Of course! I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world." He squeezed you tighter before letting you go and looked at you and smiled. Ellie then came on over. "Thanks for my party. Your seven-layer dip... tasted like eight. " "Chuck, can I tell you something? " "It really was eight layers?" You giggled looking at him. He was always such a goofball and you loved it. Ellie then looked over at you. "Y/N do you mind giving us a minute?" "Not at all girl! I'm just gonna head into your place to use your bathroom if that's okay?" "No problem Y/N." Ellie said. "Thanks. And hey maybe we can hang out for a little after Chuck?" "That would be great! I think Morgan is chilling in my room if you want to just head up there after." "Okay."

You put your hand on Chuck's shoulder for a sec then headed in. Once she was gone, Ellie turned back to her brother. "Even though we may ask, no woman really wants to hear about an old girlfriend. It's depressing, okay? Stanford was five years ago. You need to move on. It's time. " "Do we really have to have this conversation again?" " We've rehearsed it enough. " "Fine. I'll get over Jill tomorrow." "Seriously though Chuck. Even after all that , why can't you realize there is someone who has been there for you all the time." "Who?" Ellie just looked at him. "Y/N?" Chuck whispered not wanting you to hear since the windows were open.

"Yes!! Chuck it's so obvious you like her! Why won't you do anything about it!" Ellie whisper yelled. "It's complicated. She's my best friend. I would hate to screw that up and lose another girl." "Chuck that's crazy. She would never leave you. She has been with you at your best and your worst and she is still here. That's got to say something." Chuck sighed and looked down. "I know. We'll see okay?"

Ellie squealed. "Good! Now that that's done. You may go." Chuck laughed and started to head inside. Once he got to his door he turned back to his sister first. "Ellie. Why bring all these women over to try to hook up with me if you want me to try to get together with Y/N?" "Honestly I'm just getting desperate at trying to get you a girl. So I have no idea."

Chuck nodded his head and headed inside up to his room. Once he opened the door to his room he found both you and Morgan sitting on his bed. You looked over at him and smiled which he returned. That smile made him forget about everything going wrong in his life. God he wished he could tell you just how much you meant to him. "Seems like everybody had a really good time, huh? I know I did." Morgan spoke up. "Super." Chuck then went over to sit down on a chair. "Cheer up, Chuck, you talked to some women. " "You know, it's a start." You looked down feeling a bit jealous. You hated that they were trying to hook him up with some girl when you were the one who wanted to be with him. A sound then came on from Chuck's computer. Morgan and you looked over. "Wow blast from the past. Bryce remembered your birthday, dude." "Wow! Weird... Just saying." You said "What?" "The guy who got you kicked out of school, the guy who stole your girl, remember that guy?" "Yeah, Morgan, I think I remember Bryce." Chuck went over to his computer and you walked over to join him "All right, well... what, uh, what do we got here?" " Huh, what is it?" Morgan said joining.

"Zork... you remember Zork the old text, based video game? Well, Bryce and I programmed our own version of it back at Stanford using a trs-80." " Wow, you guys were really cool." "Impressive right?" You said. " Yeah, if I could only remember what was in my hero's satchel. The weapons that I would use to kill the terrible troll." " Right. You know what, you're still really cool. " "And, uh, you're going home." " Is it that time?" " It's that time." " Right. " "Pedal safe!"

As Morgan left you looked over at Chuck. "Did you want me to get going to?" "Uh no! Actually if you don't mind staying for a little longer? I wanted to talk to you about something." Chuck said sounding a little nervous. He wanted to talk to you about his feelings towards you finally. You smiled at him. "No problem Chuck." "Okay great! If you don't mind though I just want to check this out first if you don't mind. You can look too if you want." "Sure!" "Alright. Great!" Chuck then looked back at his computer and started to play the game and to see what Bryce was up to. The game was asking him how to kill the troll. "Attack... troll... with nasty knife." All of a sudden his computer started acting weird and all the images and videos started flashing on his screen. Chuck stood up beside you as you both stared at the screen. Chuck reached over and grabbed your hand not understanding what was going on. You both started to get a major headache. The images and videos did not stop flashing till early in the morning. Once it stopped you both ended up falling on the floor passing out.

#Chuck Series Rewrite #Chuck #Chuck TV Series #Chuck x Reader #Chuck Bartowski #Chuck Bartowski x Reader #Zachary Levi

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

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drabble 3.5

A/N: SOOOO. I ended up making another version of one of the prompts. I promise I’m working on the other ones as well, I just couldn’t get this out of my head. Enjoy version 3.5 of the most recent drabble I posted. <3

43. “What the fuck were you thinking?” And 57. “You look so fucking hot when your mad”

Masterlist

tagged: @justahopelessssromantic

You sighed, looking at your watch for the umpteenth time. Angel was going to be furious. You had told Angel that you were getting out of work at seven and would be home by nine. Well, it was nine now and you knew Angel was worried sick. You didn’t have your personal cell phone with you, but you did have your work phone, which you didn’t give to Angel for numerous reasons. The last thing you needed was to be distracted during a mission though, worrying about Angel’s mood was really not helping matters.

Looking into the scope, you watched as your commanding officer, Cole, the same one that dealt with those white supremacist in Santo Padre, was making his exchange with some douchebag drug lord. It was the heroin that Cole had bought off from Angel. It was conflicting of interest, you knew that, but you connected them together since Angel was in a tough spot.

You met Angel through Coco, who was a war buddy of yours, serving in Iraq together. After being discharged, you had reconnected with Coco and met Angel then. You two had been dating for two years and have known one another for six. It took you some time to warm up to the idea of dating Angel, especially since you were gone often due to mercenary work you do with Cole. But, he broke you down and you two were now living together. He didn’t even know what you did for a living till recently when the ‘let’s put everything on the table’ talk occurred. It definitely felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time, Angel fretted over you constantly. It was endearing, but it could get to be much at times, like he couldn’t trust you to save your own fucking life.

“Bullet, watch the surroundings, I don’t have a good feeling about this.” You heard your teammate, Ross advised. This made you groan since Ross always had such a good inkling for situations going south.

“Movement on the northwestern corner,” you warned. “I see 5 bodies.”

“6,” you heard.

You paused. That wasn’t through your comms. You felt the gun then, pressing against your skull. Looking up, you found a man, dressed in all black with his face covered.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. Letting go of your gun, you slowly made your way to a standing position, not trying to alert the man that currently held a gun to your head.

“Americans, can’t trust them.” He spat out.

“Yeah well, can’t say I blame us since you have a gun to my head.” You retorted.

“You’re beautiful for a sicario, I can put that smart mouth to good use.” You couldn’t see his face, but you know this bastard was smiling.

You giggled then. “You think so?” Hearing the gunshots outside and your team shouting out directions through the comms, you knew you had to dispose of this guy quickly. “I’m sure I can put that mouth to good use as well.”

Pushing the gun away, you punched the guy causing him to let go of his gun. Before he could even scramble to retrieve his weapon, you took out a knife you had hidden in your boots, climbing on his back. Without a moment's hesitation, you stabbed the guy right in his neck, assuring that he would no longer trouble you. Getting a few more stabs in for good measure, you took your knife out of his neck, wiping it with the man's mask which you had removed. Placing it back in your boots, you made your way back to your position and took out both men that were standing by Cole, holding a gun to his head. He flashed you a thumbs up before surveying the area that you knew had your other two teammates.

They were thankfully okay.

Quickly you packed your gun up and made your way down the building. As you were exiting, you felt the wind knocked out of you, causing you to fall back, dropping your weapon. Looking up, you see three men, one with a baseball bat and the other two with knives. You were almost certain you broke a rib as it was painful every breath you took.

“You okay Bullet?” You heard Cole ask.

“Negative,” you replied. “But I will be soon.”

The man yielding the bat hit your stomach once more, causing you to groan and roll away from them. They made their way towards you, menace in their eyes. You slightly chuckled, taking out the gun you had on your back.

“Knives and bats don’t beat bullets.” Quickly, you shot the three men, headshots for a quick kill. They fell to the ground as quickly as they came.

“I think it’s ridiculous how accurate you are when it comes to shooting people.” Cole said from the doorway with his gun drawn in case he had to take anyone out.

“Yes well, they don’t call me Bullet for nothing,” you wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “May have broken a rib or two.” Cold helped you up.

“Reyes’ not going to be happy.”

And you knew Cole was right, your boyfriend was definitely not going to be happy.

You groaned as Carla bandaged up your middle. One of the beautiful things about being a mercenary was having the right connections. You had your xray done at one of the urgent care’s that Cole helped out on the outskirts of Banning, CA. Nothing too concerning. Just a few broken ribs, but otherwise, you were good as new. Your phone was constantly vibrating, but you didn’t want to answer it. You should have, just to ease his worries, but you couldn’t exactly reach for it since it would be far too painful.

“You have to answer him some time.” Cole commented as he watched Carla finish bandaging you up.

“Thanks Carla, you’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, you both are a pain in my ass.” You knew she was kidding, but there was still some seriousness in her tone. She handed you some pain pills. “This will help take the pain away.”

“If we’re honest, Cole is the pain since he’s the one who gets us all in trouble.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he shook his head, a smile on his lips.

Your phone vibrated again, this time, Cole answered it, earning a death glare from you. He smirked and you took the phone from him.

“Hey baby,” you greeted.

“Where the fuck are you?” Angel angrily questioned.

“Banning, I had to get bandaged up. Before you say anything, I know I said I was going to be home at 9, I didn’t think this recon was going to take this long.” You wanted to plead your case before he even started. Angel could be unreasonable when it came to you.

“You could have texted me on your work phone Y/N, I’ve been worried sick.” Angel paused. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“To be fair I was thinking about you the whole time, especially how sorry I am that I didn’t let you know we were going to take long.”

“Wait a minute, bandaged up? What happened to you?” You noticed that his tone changed from angry to worry, it was like 100 to 0, stepping on the brakes to avoid an accident type of change.

“I got hit with a bat, broke a few ribs, nothing too crazy.”

“You’re fucking insane, you’re driving me fucking insane. I’m coming to get you.” You heard him rummaging around, most likely for his keys.

“No, it’s fine, Cole is going to drop me off. Just wait for me at home.”

“You’re going to give me a fucking heart attack. I’ll see you later.”

Angel hung up then. You sighed, shaking your head. There wasn’t even an ‘I love you’. “It’s going to be a long night.” You laughed, but quickly stopped as the pain was sharp. “This next few weeks are going to suck.”

“Well, you’ll have time to recover, can’t have you in the field in this state.” Cole helped you down from the examination bed.

“Cole, I literally shoot people from building tops, I think I’ll be fine.” You argued. You didn’t like not doing anything. Though, you could go to your other job, which was a front for this, but at the same time, you would miss the action far too much.

“Don’t be stubborn,” Cole scolded. “This is for your own good. Besides, Reyes is not going to let you out of his sight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sighed, not looking forward to the argument between you two. “Mind if I stay at your place tonight?”

“Nice try kid, come on, I got to drop you off at Santo Padre still.”

Cole drove you home, though, everything was a blur to you since the pain killers were definitely kicking in. Your door opened and you knew immediately it was Angel just by his scent alone. No painkiller was going to mask that. You heard him exchange a few words with Cole, nothing hostile, but you weren’t exactly sure what they were saying. Angel carried you to your shared apartment and laid you in bed.

“Baby,” you called out to him.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, just get some rest.” He kissed your forehead.

Sleep enveloped you rather quickly. When you opened your eyes next, the sun was out and the pain was back.

“Ow,” you groaned, carefully turning to see if it would help your pain. It provided some relief, but not much.

“That’s what you get for not answering your fucking phone.”

You looked up and found Angel sitting against the headboard, dark circles under his eyes. “You didn’t sleep.” You frowned.

“How can I? I was worried sick something was going to happen to you if I even closed my eyes.” Angel rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the tiredness. Since you were up, he felt more at ease.

“I’m good.” You stubbornly replied even though your left side was aching, the pain becoming sharp when you moved too quickly.

“Are you?” Angel scoffed. “Because your face says otherwise.”

Looking up at him, Angel was wearing a black tank top. His arms were crossed over his chest, accentuating his muscles. “You look so fucking hot when your mad.”

“Don’t try and be cute,” Angel’s lips quirked up.

“Nothing I say is going to make it better, I’m sorry.” You sat on his lap, straddling him. “I love you,” you placed kisses all over his face.

Angel softly grabbed your thighs, letting you place kisses all over him. As angry as he was, he knew you were hurting and being angry wouldn’t do much for you.

“I love you too querida, but can you try to not give me a heart attack? I really don’t like you’re fucking job, but I can live with it since it’s what you love to do.”

“I don’t love killing people,” you sighed. “It’s just what I’m good at.”

“You’re also good at charming people.”

“Only works on you, so doesn't count.”

Angel laughed. “I hate it when you get hurt.”

“So you know how I feel when you go on runs.” You pointed out, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Baby, this shit isn’t the same. I go on runs not thinking I’m gonna fucking die. You literally go there knowing there’s a possibility you’re not coming out alive.” He was running his fingers up and down your spine, the motion was incredibly soothing. “You’re the love of my life, I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”

Your eyes began to feel heavy due to Angel’s ministrations, but you tried to keep them open. Feelings were never you and Angel’s forte, but you two were always able to share things with one another to some extent. You two didn’t believe in sugar coating anything.

“You’re the love of my life too, I would probably lose my mind if I lost you.” You pulled away looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you or text you. I promise next time I will.”

“Simple as that.”

Angel was thankful for your presence in his life. You two didn’t always get along, but that’s what relationships were all about, up and downs.

But through it all, Angel loves you and you love him.

#Angel Reyes #angelreyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #promptrequest

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angelkurenai · 5 years

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Imagine Tom accidentally spoiling that your boyfriend, Jake, has plans to propose to you and already has bought an engagement ring.

“Acting is on its own a tough profession but one must admit each movie is different and does demand more things from you. Especially a superhero one, has even more demands. And you as actors need to be able to live up to the expectations and demands of this job.” the interviewer said and both Jake and Tom nodded their heads “So my question is, was there a scene that was particularly hard to film and you felt like demanded more from you as actors than any other one?”

“Oh you're playing a very dangerous game there, I'm warning you!” Jake said with a grin, grabbing his coffee to take a sip as he glanced at Tom “Are you sure you want him to answer that one? Because if you do, let me go right ahead and say: Spoiler Warning! Proceed with caution!”

“Come on, dude.” Tom laughed although deep down he too was scared something might slip. It was this kind of questions that he really was scared of “Have some faith in me!”

“Oh I do have faith in you! I have so much faith that I am 100% sure you will leave one non-spoiled scene in the entire movie. That's why I'm making this clear, I have no part in this!” he raised his hands in the air.

“Wow way to throw me under the bus, man, thank you so much for this.” Tom blinked, faking shock and hurt but in the end they both burst in laughter “Anyway, I'll prove you wrong and you'll see it!” he said fully determined before turning back to the interviewer “I actually remember filming this scene which-” he paused for a second, glancing at Jake who was seemingly on alert, watching his with wide eyes.

“Look at him!” the interviewer laughed “He's like ready to jump and stop you in case you spoil something.”

“You know, I suggested getting duct tape with me just in case but somehow they believed it was too much? What kind of thing is even that?!” he looked around with a funny look before scoffing “Now there's only so much I can do about it.” he shrugged as his words earned a laugh “You can never be too careful I tell you.” Jake noted and Tom shook his head with a laugh.

“Don't worry man. As I was saying, there was this scene which aside from the action part which it certainly had, because I remember my heart racing the entire time, it also came down to being really emotional. And- and I remember how it was during the middle of the production and we had shot some easy and hard scenes but when we got to shot that one it was, like, Whow man this is tough! And now that it's all over I can say that for sure. I remember how I had to balance those two and it was particularly hard because other than being this struggling hero trying to fight for his life and the ones he cares, I had to show the emotional pain on my moves and whenever I could my voice and face; whenever it was on display I suppose. It was like putting two aspects together that very often are linked but also very rarely are displayed in that way, with- with the mask on and all that. So uhm-” he shrugged a bit, nodding his head “Yeah, that's it I believe.”

“Wow” Jake breathed out with wide eyes, faking shock “I'm actually impressed. He didn't spoil anything!”

“Told you to have some faith in me dude.” Tom said as they both laughed.

“What about you, Jake?” the interviewer asked the older man.

“Oh nah I just sipped on my coffee, said a couple lines here and there, cuddled the life out of (Y/n) and all around let the CGI team do their thing. It was a great movie to film, yes.” Jake said with smile full of pride, shrugging casually.

“Basically was 24/7 with his girlfriend is what he'd trying to say.” Tom laughed “And even when she had a scene he was like, behind the cameras cheering and fangirling over her!”

“No, man, no.” Jake brushed him off all seriously “It's called fanboying! Fanboying! Learn the right terms.” his voice came out almost stern until they both laughed “I can't believe I'd ever get to say that!”

“(Y/n)'s really forced you to learn them huh?” Tom laughed.

“Nah she talks about it all the time so I just kind of listened to it and now I know pretty much everything.”

“Considering how much time you spent together it would be no surprise. Plus, (Y/n)'s like the ultimate fangirl despite having been part of the MCU ever since the beginning. It was actually-” Tom looked back at the interviewer “Her that I was about to talk about next. Despite how Jake insists that he had it easy, there were some scenes that were quiet stressful and I think if it wasn't for her being there to, you know, support you and make you come back to reality, you would have noticed how hard they really were.”

“All jokes aside, it's a tough job, yeah. A lot more than people actually realize.” Jake nodded his head “That's why friends and family are sometimes really important.”

“And you guys I presume had a little bit of both during this film, right?” the interviewer asked.

“We were very lucky because we had a lot of both, yes.” Tom said, glancing at Jake who nodded his head “And there were a lot of people that were friends and turned into family and that makes the movie even more important. We- Despite any tough days were we really got tired, I think we were always able to find moments to- to actually relax without having to think about preparing for work or anything like that and be ourselves, you know?”

“Which is actually a bunch of five-year-olds stuck into adults' buddies.” Jake said with a smirk, getting hold of his coffee again.

“Which is exactly that, yes.” Tom nodded his head “But it's also something that some days (Y/n) could barely handle and that- that really was an advantage sometimes, you see. Because, I remember that time we had the day off and I had gone to find him in case he wanted to hang out. But when I saw him he was so incredibly nervous and unable to sit down and I was not sure if I should ask or not. In the end I was like “Hey, what's up man? You don't look ok today. Is there something I can help with?” and turns out it was the right thing to say because he was overthinking about some stuff and uh needed a friend to help him take it slow.”

“And at this point I go like: Who the heck told you we're friends?” Jake said playfully, effectively making both him and the interviewer laugh.

“Yeah, here's probably that too. Anyway, I'm really glad we became this big dysfunctional family, even if he and I actually spent the entire day going from shop to shop trying to find the perfect engagement ring for him to prop-” but his words were cut off when he hear the loud coughing coming from the man next to him as Jake had apparently chosen the wrong moment to take a sip of his coffee. Or maybe the second worst decision, with the first one being letting his guards down and thinking that spoilers was the worst that could come out of Tom's mouth.

“Jake, you ok man? Jake?” he patted him on the back as he tried to recover from it “Are you ok?”

“D-dude!” was the first word that came out of his lips as he looked with wide eyes at Tom.

“...Wh-what?” Tom asked after a good few seconds, unable to understand the reason behind all of it was what he said.

Jake's face went serious and he looked at the interviewer saying with an almost blank face and no longer wide eyes “Please tell me you have some duct tape with you. Please, I will be eternally grateful to you.”

The woman was having a hard time hiding her laugh behind her hand “I'm- I'm sorry but... no.”

Jake groaned, letting his head hang low as he shook it “No mercy. Absolutely no mercy. I can't believe this.”

“Wh-what happened? Why are you-”

“What happened? What happened? Oh how about the fact that you just blurted out something way worse than a spoiler for the movie! Is there really no filter? None at all?”

“I didn't- Wait-- you mean you haven't proposed to her yet?!” Ton's own eyes widened “Dude you've had the ring for like 6 months now!”

“Oh yeah, why don't you go ahead and say that too hm?” he asked sarcastically before shaking his head “Oh dear, can't believe-”

“Come on, do you really think after all these months she may have not figured it out herself? (Y/n)'s too smart for that! I'm 100% sure she knows.” he tried to comfort him or probably calm him down before he killed him, judging by the nervous laugh that he let. Seeing Jake somewhat relax he kept going in hopes that he'd make things better “Only reason she's probably not talking about is because she's trying to figure a way out to tell you about the positive pregnancy test without you-”

“What now?!”

Or not. Maybe not. Definitely not make things better.

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fics-of-my-mind · 4 years

Text

Trust - Chapter III.

Where are you now?

home

Isn't it like 4 AM there?

yeah...

Are you OK?

just stressed a bit I guess

You said you needed to vent?

I did

can I call you?

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter III. - It’s four AM and I think I might lose it

Nick’s texts are bold

Milla’s texts are italic

The whole 'let's be venting buddies' idea seemed nice, up until the point when ten minutes later I realized, he didn't give me his number. I felt disappointed and a little bit mad at myself. Now I had no real proof that my mind wasn't playing wicked games with me and I, in fact spent the night running around in Barcelona with Nick Jonas himself.

I didn't tell the girls where I've been when Vanda opened the door with her tired eyes at 6:23 in the morning, not wanting to seem crazy. They've both known about my fangirling habits, but there was no point of telling them something that even I wasn't sure really happened. I just fell into my bed and slept until noon.

After returning home, I couldn't find my place. I went back to work, met up with friends, went shopping and even went for lunch with my family, but something was missing. It felt stupid – missing something that I've only had for like seven hours tops.

I tried doing something useful, that could actually have a good effect on my non-existent love life, so I downloaded Tinder. Then, after a day I deleted it. Honestly, I was more than fed up with our generation's dating culture. I couldn't embarrass myself to meet up with complete strangers and have sex – I kind of envied the people who could do it. I guess, it wasn't coded into me.

I was almost 25 years old, and I've never had a proper boyfriend. I blamed the series I watched growing up for my high expectations in men. But really, was it too much to ask to be taken out for a drink or dinner before having a one night stand? I would've had no problem with that, or at least I don't think so. But when a guy messages you on Tinder and his second sentence to you is 'wanna have sex', it kind of just kills the mood for me.

I've watched some of the videos I made during the concert, and every time I could feel my stomach clench. Even if we take my night with Nick out of the equation, it was still one of the best nights of my live, and definitely one of my best concerts. It was my teenage dream come true to watch them perform.

It took me two weeks to get back to normal. By then, my mind was mostly focused on my friends, my job, my colleagues, whom I adored and not on the lack of reaching out from Nick. I kind of let it go – I only thought about him on sleepless nights. I had much more on my mind, with the coronavirus setting its foot in Hungary, and Amalia being in quarantine for it.

In early March, they closed our office and we were forced to work from home, which I handled pretty badly. I loved being home and I loved being alone, appreciating the time with myself. But normally, I had people around me during the day, I was going somewhere, not just sitting from the couch to the dining table, then back to the couch.

At least I had my dog, Milo with me to help me get through the quarantine period. My daily routine consisted of walking him three times and going to the grocery store every few days. That's all, otherwise I was completely alone. I hated it, and I was feeling so bad, that I've had at least one mental breakdown a day.

That's when it happened. In the middle of a Wednesday, just as I was scrolling through my emails on the company laptop, my phone went off.

so, I kind of need to vent...

It was all the message said, yet I knew who it was from. My stomach clenched instantly, and I could feel my heart beating against my chest really hard. Here it was, my proof that I wasn't just hallucinating that night. I took my phone into my hands and typed my reply.

Well, hello to you too, Mr

hi. :)

Hi :) :)

sorry I've been MIA

just needed to get back to the states

do a few interviews

I smiled softly. I had no idea why he felt the need to apologize. He was busy, he was important, he was famous. I knew well that he had responsibilities. He was also married, so he also had a wife to take care of.

It's OK.

Where are you now?

home

Isn't it like 4 AM there?

yeah...

Are you OK?

just stressed a bit I guess

You said you needed to vent?

I did

can I call you?

I quickly checked my Outlook calendar. Nothing else was in it for the rest of the day, so as long as my coworkers didn't want to chit chat on a Teams call, I was okay to talk to Nick. More than okay, in fact, I wanted to hear his voice.

Yes.

It didn't take more than a few seconds for my phone to ring, startling me, even though I've expected the call. My hand was shaking as I reached to my iPhone, and even though it was a reaction of a twelve-year-old fangirl, I couldn't calm myself.

'Hey.'

'Hey you,' I heard his deep voice, and suddenly all my nerves were gone. He once again had the same effect on me, as back in Barcelona, instantly calming me. I couldn't quite place this.

'So, what's up?' I asked, clearing my troath.

'Are you at work?' he asked, probably checking to see if anyone could hear me.

'Yes and no,' I said. 'Since Monday, we are forced to work from home. Sooo... I'm home.'

'Do you live alone?' It was kind of ridiculous. We've barely known each other (except for the fact that I did knew a lot about him), and the fact that he had no idea about my living situation just confirmed this. We still weren't any more than strangers, yet he was calling me from the other side of the world.

'I do. Well, I live with my dog,' I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. 'Where are you? And what are you doing up at 4 in the morning?'

'I'm home. In the music studio.' So the walls were soundproof. Smart, if you don't want anyone to hear you talking on the phone. For example, your wife. 'Couldn't sleep.'

'Why?' I asked.

'There's just a lot on my mind, I guess,' he answered, his voice sounding really tired. I was concerned for him.

'Things like...?' I tried asking him again. There was a reason he's called me. There were things he needed to talk about and I quite enjoyed hearing him talk. His voice calmed me, and I felt much closer to him than just some fan.

'We probably have to cancel our Vegas residency due to COVID.'

'That's understandable. You shouldn't feel bad about it. You can't really control it.'

'I know,' he said, staying quiet for a few seconds. I waited for him to talk again. 'Just don't like to disappoint anyone, I guess.'

'You aren't doing this, Nick,' I said softly. 'The virus is. Fans will understand. You will make it up to them."

'Yeah, I guess you're right.'

'What else is on your mind?' There was a long pause before he spoke again.

'Have you heard Demi's new song?'

'I have,' I nodded to myself. It was quite fresh, just a few days old. 'You and her used to be friends, right?'

'She was my best friend,' he corrected. I searched my memories, I did know that they went on tour together and did Carpool Karaoke and other things together. I had no idea when that ended and why. I knew about Demi's OD, but nothing else.

The fangirl in me, who wanted to know everything desperately wanted to ask him about what happened. The person in me that was supposed to be his 'vent buddy', knew that this probably wasn't the right time to ask the questions. Luckily, this side was saner.

'But she isn't anymore,' I declared the obvious. 'And you are hurt by her video clip, where she just walks by you, right?' I asked, trying to decipher how he was feeling at the moment.

'It's not like I don't deserve it,' he said quietly. I didn't really know what to say.

'It is okay for something to hurt, even if you deserve it, you know.'

'Thank you,' he said even quieter. 'I think I needed to hear that.'

'Is there anything else that's bothering you?'

I could almost see him bite his bottom lip before answering.

'No, nothing really.' I knew he lied, but didn't press it. 'I just can't really talk with anyone else about Demi. Well, probably except Joe, but he's home with Sophie, so I didn't want to nag him.'

'Okay,' I nodded. This was weird, talking so naturally about things with him. Talking about his life, about people in his life... It was just crazy.

'How are you doing?' he asked, sounding genuinely interested in the answer.

'Fine, I guess.' I was doing just fine – minus the mental breakdowns, and the fear of this whole situation.

'Now tell me the truth,' he commanded, and my breath caught up in my throat. I wasn't surprised that he noticed my lie, I noticed his too. I was shocked that he did in fact call me out on it, in a very commanding tone. Like he expected me to tell him how I was really feeling.

'Why do you think I'm lying?' I asked, raising my eyebrows.

'You are, aren't you?' he asked. 'This venting thing can only work if we both trust each other with our problems. This has to be a two-sided thing.'

I did get where he was coming from. He had a lot to lose with trusting in me, but he did it anyway. Me telling him about my own problems meant that I also trusted him, that I also put my secrets and my fears into his hands. He wanted to be assured that he wasn't making a fatal mistake by opening up to me. Not that I had any intention of selling him out, but I understood that we were practically strangers to each other.

'I'm worried,' I said finally.

'About what?'

'This virus. About my family falling ill. About losing my job.'

'Why would you lose your job?' he asked, and it wasn't just a rhetorical question, he really did want to know about my concerns.

'I was just hired, you know. Just in the beginning of last month. Before that, I was an intern for a year, and I've worked my ass off to get a permanent position. But if thanks to the virus, the financial crisis hits and they start to fire people... I'm just worried that last one in means first one out,' I explained.

'Did your boss give you a reason to worry?' he asked.

'Not really. My boss is amazing. Really, she's more of a friend than a boss.'

'So if you two have a great relationship, and she managed to make you permanent part of her team, don't you think that she'll do everything in order to keep you?'

I stayed quiet for a minute.

'I don't like it when you are being reasonable,' I said jokingly.

'Sorry,' he chuckled. 'But really, why worry before you actually have the problem?'

'I guess, I just worry a lot about non-existent things,' I shrugged. 'It's always better to be prepared for everything.'

'Hmm, is it?' he asked, clearly amused about the things in my head. 'What else is bugging you?'

'I'm lonely,' I said quietly. I hated to admit this, because I was the person that always told everyone that I was doing more than okay on my own, and I didn't need a man to make me feel whole. Now, as I was alone in the apartment all the time, I started to realize that having some company would've been nice.

'What about your friends? Where are they?' he asked.

'Most of them went home to their families when the state of emergency hit.'

'Why don't you go home to your family then?'

'I'm kind of afraid to infect them. I mean, I'm the one living in the big city. If anyone caught the virus without noticing, it would be me. And I wouldn't feel comfortable knowing that I may give it to them,' I explained.

Nick stayed quiet for a while. My inhibitions of talking to him about my life were long gone. It kind of felt nice to say the words out loud, to share with someone that I was in fact, feeling lonely. Even if that someone was on the other side of the world.

'You don't have a significant other?' he asked eventually, as if it wasn't clear already.

'No, I don't have a boyfriend.'

'Why?' Came the next question. I bit my lip and contemplated telling him the great answer on my mind, that I was thinking for years now.

'I'm just not the type of girl that guys fall in love with.'

'You do know that's bullshit, right?' he replied, sounding irritated.

'No, Nick, really. I never had a real boyfriend, only guys that I've hooked up with, or that led me on to believe that here was something more going on, when there wasn't,' I said, and even though I didn't feel perfectly comfortable talking about my love life, or the lack of it, somehow I couldn't stop myself from speaking. 'And I got tired of that a while ago. It's still better to be alone than not being appreciated and having to make compromises.'

'What do you want from a guy? When is he worth the compromises?' he asked, and I could hear the curiosity in his voice.

'Quite honestly, if he makes an effort, he's probably worth it.'

'An effort like a big romantic gesture?'

'No,' I chuckled. 'I don't really like cheesy things. If he brings me flowers or takes me out for dinner, it's more than enough. But it's not like any of those things happened.'

'C'mon, you must've gotten flowers from guys. They must've taken you out to eat.'

'I did get flowers from guys. Just not flowers that were of any romantic origin. I got flowers for my birthday or international women's day, but that's about it. And as for dates... Nobody really ever took me out for dinner or lunch or whatever.'

'How?' he asked, sounding doubtful.

'Well, I must repulse all the men,' I laughed bitterly. Sometimes I did believe in that.

'Don't be stupid,' he said quietly.

'I'm not. I mean... Here I am, almost at 25, never been in love, never even been on a proper date. And honestly, I have no idea why it never happened, but nobody has ever asked me out,' I shrugged to myself. 'There must be something seriously wrong with me.'

Even though I tried to play it cool, these concerns were real for me. I thought about it a lot, how it has never happened. Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I wasn't pretty enough. Maybe it was written on my forehead that nobody should ever date me.

'There is nothing wrong with you, trust me,' Nick said, and there was something in his voice.

'I don't want you to feel sorry for me.'

'I don't, Milla, I just can't quite comprehend how you've never had a boyfriend,' he explained. 'You're beautiful, smart, hard-working. You care about people. You're witty and funny, and I've only talked to you twice in my life and I already know this.'

'C'mon, Nick,' I could feel myself blush. 'You're just saying those things to make me feel better.'

'I'm really not. I just don't like that you think so low about yourself, like you think something is wrong with you.'

'But what if there is?' I asked, opening up about one of my biggest concerns. 'What if I expect more than I deserve?'

'Trust me, wanting to get flowers and being taken out on a date, aren't that huge, earth-shattering things.'

'Well, I'm still alone, aren't I? Maybe I scare people.'

'Or maybe,' he started about a deep sigh. 'People around you don't deserve you and they know it.'

I stayed quiet for a bit, biting my lip again. After some time I sighed, not finding the energy to fight with him about this anymore.

'Damn you for always knowing what to say.'

#nick jonas #nick jonas imagine #nick jonas fanfiction #nick jonas fic #nick x reader #jonas brothers #jonas brothers fanfiction #jonas brothers imagine #nick jonas x reader #fanfiction

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cloudyyoonji · 5 years

Text

Secret Panels and Paperwork

Detective! Hwang Hyunjin x Detective! Reader.

REQUESTED BY ANON

Summary: Seoul Police Headquaters is much more interesting then your old job, particularly the detective you’re now shadowing.

Genre; Fluff! Murder mystery case! (Mentions of a hostage situation)

_________________

Seoul Police Headquaters was way more relaxed then what you were used to.

Even though you’d been a crime detective for some 5 years now, you couldn’t help but feel a little anxious coming into a new job, one that was definitely on a smaller scale then what you were used to.

A quick scan of your ID and your past the gates, heading into a newer and exciting job; a new beginning.

You’ve barely stepped foot into the office when you’re greeted. The male beems at you, eyes flicking from your ID that is now clipped to your uniform to you.

“You must be Y/N! I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

Woah. He’s hot.

Masking your thoughts with a polite smile you nod to confirm your identity, following suit as the attractive male beckons you to walk with him.

“So for the next few week, you’re going to shadow me. They said you’d had a few years of experience, but you’ll shadow me just until you get used to how things tend to run here.”

You’re nodding along to every word he says, wondering just how you’d gotten so lucky to work with such a charming man.

A few years of experience? Would that explain how you were used to things running? Perhaps the boy doesn’t know...

Showing you to a cubicle right beside his, he explains that this is your work station, also adding that there isn’t too many cases at the moment so you’ll just be filling out simple complaints.

“Did you have any questions? Did you want me to go through a few forms with you?”

You shake your head, smiling up at the black haired boy.

“I think I’ve got it all covered. I’m no stranger to rent disagreements.”

He nods. “Okay just give me a tap if there’s anything I can do!”

However, you know for a fact that you won’t be needing his help.

After a week, it becomes adherent to everyone just how experienced you are. You’ve filled out 167 forms, more then most of the detectives you work with combined.

“You know, you’re really good at doing these.”

You look up at Hyunjin, who now stands on the other side of your desk, watching as your hand flicks through the paperwork in quick strokes.

“Thank you. I’ve had plenty experience.”

“So it seems. You learn fast.”

You put the pen down, curiosity eating at you.

“Do we have any cases?”

The boy watches you for a moment, nodding with a sigh as he seats himself on his chair, pulling it towards you.

“Yeah. This murder case about this girl. We just can’t figure it out. There’s something missing, you know? It’s hard to piece together.”

You hum, twirling your pen and taking out a stack of sticky notes, cogs in your brain already turning.

“Tell me about it.”

After looking at you for a second longer, the boy reaches for a file from his desk, handing it to you to flick through as he explains.

“So the victim; Sarah Evans, was found dead in her apartment on Thursday night. There was no sign of any forced entries or exits, and no sign of self inflicted wounds. The autopsy suggested that it was highly likely she’d been smothered in her sleep. However, there’s only a few people that have access to her apartment; this being her mum, brother and her boyfriend.”

“And you’ve interviewed them?” You ask, eyes narrowed as you flick to the autopsy report.

“Yes. Mum and the brother were out of town; she has an alibi witness. And her boyfriend was at home playing his PlayStation. More specifically ‘Skyrim’.”

You hum, flicking to the photos of the body, desperate for sometime of mark.

“A sock is missing?”

“Yeah. It’s not in her house. It’s the only sign that she struggled at all.”

Nodding, your scanning over the body, eyes narrowed.

“Can you send this to me?”

“Yeah definitely. Do you think we’ve missed something?”

Shaking your head, you finally look up at the boy, whose eyes are glued to you.

“I really don’t know, but a fresh pair of eyes might see something.”

The case eats at you into the morning hours. You’re absolutely positive you’d seen a case like this before.

Your old case files are scattered on the floor, clock reading now 5:04am even though it was just midnight a few minutes ago.

Illuminated by the light of your iPad, you’re zoomed into the tiny details of the body.

Missing fingernails? No.

Fresh bruises? No.

Cuts? No.

When you spot it, you can’t look away, zooming in even closer to see the coloured pixels in her dark hairline.

Blue and purple pixels.

A mark.

A love mark on her neck. In her hairline.

Quickly you’re scrolling to the witness statements, flicking to her boyfriends.

“I was playing Skyrim from the hours 5:00pm, till 8:00pm. I was then in bed from 8:00pm till 7:00am.”

The tracking app on his phone seemed to prove that, but perhaps he hadn’t taken the phone.

The boy explains himself to be a worried boyfriend. He was weary about her male friends, and how they treated her.

A motive; worried about her cheating.

Its like all the dots in your head connect at once.

It was him. The boyfriend.

iPad now abandoned on the floor with the countless papers of past cases, your standing, phone pressed against your ear.

“Hello?”

Hyunjin’s voice is rough, indicating that you’d most definitely woken him from his slumber. But this just couldn’t wait.

“Hyunjin. I’ve got it. I know who it was. There’s a mark we’ve missed. One that gives away a motive.”

You’re barely stopping to breathe as you try to explain, the boys brain so tired he cannot comprehend a thing.

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. I’ll meet you at the office okay? I need to see this mark for myself.”

And with that you’re running to your car, iPad in hand.

Speeding to the office, you basically run in, barely getting through the barricades with a scan of your ID.

“Hyunjin!” You yell, waving the iPad in your arms.

The boy looks at you rather concerned, taking in your wrinkled uniform and your bun that has miscellaneous pens and pencils sticking through it.

“Have you even slept?”

“Thats not the point. I’ve found a mark.” You tell him, zooming in on the love bite.

He takes the iPad from you, looking close.

“Holy shit, you’re right.”

“It was the boyfriend. Like I said on the phone. He was jealous. He admitted that. But he threw the focus off him to say he was worried her male friends would try something. But it’s him Hyunjin, it’s him.”

He nods, eyes leaving the iPad and flicking to your own.

“Let’s call it in.”

And so, at 5:48am, it is finalized that the murder of Sarah Evans was committed by her boyfriend; Marcus Roberts.

By 3:20pm, you’re suited up in a bulletproof vest; “Seoul Police Department” written in white bold letters across your back.

Armed and ready to go, you’re journeying to the murderers house.

Were you nervous? Definitely a little. Why? You had no idea.

But as the door is flung open, and the swarm of police enter, detectives following, your instincts kick in, adrenaline high.

Pulling open various draws, your on the search for the girls missing sock. His screams of protest seem almost non existent, heart beating so loud in your ears.

“We haven’t found the sock. Maybe he’s disposed of it. Burnt it even.”

You ignore Hyunjins words, walking to the bedside table. You’re sure it’s here somewhere. It has to be somewhere.

Fingers tapping along the white wood, Hyunjin only watches with confusion as you reach behind the table, pulling it forwards.

You look up at him, fingers finding a tiny hole in the wood, something soft stuffed inside.

And there it is. The white sock bright against your blue glove.

Putting it into the plastic sleeve that gets shoved towards you, you manage a small smile, your adrenaline finally wearing off into a tiredness.

Walking back through the house, it’s buzzing with the energy only a solved case could produce.

“Buddy, you’re going to be in jail for a long time.”

An officer tells the guilty male, pushing him out of the threshold as you and Hyunjin trail behind him.

��Please! I never meant no harm! She wanted to leave me. I couldn’t do it! I love her! I love her!”

Hyunjin side eyes the male, looking up at the officer.

“There’s our confession. Take him away.”

Climbing into Hyunjins car, you’re on your way back to the office, accomplishment on both your chests.

“You know, you did really well today. You’re extremely smart Y/N.”

Glancing up at Hyunjin as your working at taking off your bulletproof vest, a light smile gracing your features at his compliment.

“Thank you Hyunjin. That means a lot.”

As the car slows to stop at the red light, he is quick to glance over at you, spotting you struggling with the vest, and quickly unclipping the side for you, one you hadn’t seen. Flicking him a quick smile, you pull the vest off, holster still tight around your waist.

“How did you come to apply at Seoul Police Department? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

“Oh I actually transferred!” You explain, looking up as the car starts moving again. “It’s a nicer environment trust me.”

“Nicer? Where did you work before? A battle ground?” The boy jokes, eyes turning into crescents.

You can see the mole under his eye a little more clearly now.

“Basically.” You laugh, shaking your head as you reminisce over the countless cases. “I worked for the FBI actually.”

“The FBI!” The boy basically yells, eyes off the road and on to you. “I am so sorry I made you do paperwork for like a week. I had no idea!”

Shaking your head, you explain that you actually like to do paperwork and that it’s like stress reliever for you.

Stopping at another light, he looks over at you again.

“So why did you leave may I ask? It must have been such an amazing line of work!”

Your smile fades as you remember, bitterness replacing the euphoric victory.

“It was amazing. But there was a reason why I left. It was one of those things you know? One you can’t really ever forget.”

You feel his gaze grow concerned, questioning and waiting for more.

“It was a hostage situation,” You begin, images of that day fresh in your mind as you recount the easy version of the story.

“It was a small group; 9 of us. He took my gun, used on it two in the group when things got too hectic for him to handle. I just felt so responsible you know? I couldn’t do anything. He would kill me or someone else the instance I lifted a finger. I’d already lost two, I just couldn’t risk the rest-.”

Your voice cuts off on its own, fingers trembling as you fiddle with the vest. Hyunjin takes your hand in his, his action making you look up at the concerned boy.

“That’s never going to happen again. I’ll make sure of it Y/N. And if it does, you’ve got me. I’ll come find you, I can promise you that.”

Hand tight on his, you can’t but help let a smile onto your features.

“Thank you Hyunjin.”

He smiles, looking back at the road as the light goes green and the car starts moving, one hand on the steering wheel, but the other wrapped tightly around your own.

“Let’s go find another case for you to solve Detective Y/N.”

162 notes · View notes

taezhu · 5 years

Text

soccer player!jaehyun

you meet jaehyun in your first year, but not until quite late on

hes the same year as you but you dont have any classes together, it's by chance you see each other actually

you're buying coffee and the university cafe and you're ahead of him in the queue, choosing what coffee to have

and somehow, which is 100% embarrassing, you forget your purse upstairs to pay for it, it was left with your friends

which is so annoying because the lady is giving you the most evil look ever since she just made this for you

and prince jung jaehyun comes swooping in to save you and says he'll pay for you too

since all he wanted was water anyway

and you're thankful but keep telling him you'll pay him back which he declines, telling you it's good for his karma etc etc

except you drag him up to your friends to give him back the money and realise that they dont have your purse either

yikes. double embarrassment

So you offer to take his number so you can organise a time to give him back the money some time later that week

“are you trying to get my number out of me this way? I expected more”

“but seriously, it's like £1.50, I'll live”

though he gives you his number anyway when you tell him you need to give it to him for your karma too

thus start the rumours from your friends about you and jaehyun since apparently hes pretty well known at uni

it's his face, and the fact hes the new striker of the university team who's won them the past four matches

but you keep telling them that there is nothing between you two because are they stupid?

Well. You think they are since you dont ever see jaehyun again after you give him the money back for the coffee the next day

that is until you're sat alone at a booth doing some work for your class later and youre so distracted by your music that you almost miss him

Jaehyun is standing at the entrance to the booth with a smile on his face and dimples just starting to show

“There's nowhere to sit, do you mind? I'm kinda shy about sitting with people I dont know”

Your work is forgotten and you end up talking to jaehyun for the two hours you're free until you have to leave

and he's a conversationalist, he loves to talk about the things he likes and what interests him

but he also loves to listen

He has this half smile on his lips whenever you're talking which grows whenever you meet his eyes

turns out you're both in some of the same societies you both just dont go, so you agree to go together

(though you think it's not actually going to happen)

when you tell him you have to go, he surprises you by saying he can wait until you're fine to walk you home

“If you want, I mean, I dont want to intrude. It's going to be dark soon though”

So you agree, knowing that it will be dark and that you would definitely want to walk with him more than taking the bus

and it was pretty much that day that you both became friends!

It's a friendship that it mostly based on jaehyun's unapologetic attempts to show his affection towards you

Though cliche, you dont really notice it and often find yourself blinded by the fact he's your friend

You're telling your friends that every time he walks you home and holds your things and invites you to have dinner with him its because hes such a good friend of yours

and this annoys him to be honest!

because he feels kind of hopeless in his attempt to show you that he sees you as more than a friend

At first he did just think of you as a friend but the more he got to know you the more he fell in love with you

Even more cliche actually, that is

It gets to the point that just at the end of your first year he has to sit you down and tell you straight up how he feels

hes nervous, but when you tell him he can tell you anything, he just blurts it out all at once

And you’ve never seen him like this before, so nervous and shy, but also really confident?

I feel as though he would tell you, get all shy and start blushing

but as soon as you start to talk it out he’s like, i knew you’d like me this whole time

Because it’s jaehyun.. Have you seen him?

Anyway, he keeps his position as your boyfriend and as the striker on the soccer team into the next year

He’d be the devoted boyfriend, one who gives you lots of love when you don’t expect it. He’s always there for you

And usually it comes in the form of him leaving you a smoothie with strawberries in at your house when he leaves in the morning

Or him making you some food from a recipe his mother gave him to impress you

Jaehyun...he isn’t the best cook but he tries and always calls in his friends to help him

Who love you by the way! They think you’re the best thing to happen to jaehyun since.. Yeah

Since he started university, he’s so happy now and he isn’t miserable in the mornings like before

He always invites you to his games and gets you to sit in the front row so that he can celebrate with you if he wants

Be weary, he’ll always keep an eye on you the entire game making sure that he can see what you’re doing and that no one’s being mean to you

Imagine one game where you’re kind of minding your own business, on instagram as you wait for the game to start

And jaehyun is warming up on the pitch as per usual, he’s occasionally looking over to you since he is infatuated with you - more on that later

And the people a few seats down are saying something about him which catches your attention

Something about him replacing their friend who was so much better that it required them to slate every part of jaehyun they could, including him personally

And it’s up to you whether you would get involved but.. If you do don’t expect jaehyun not to notice

The second you’re bringing up their words to the people, they’re defensive and it turns into a shouting match which is first noticed by johnny, the teams goalkeeper

jaehyun’s best friend, by the way

He runs over to make sure that nothing bad is going to happen and it won’t, but when jaehyun notices johnny coming to your aid

oh jaehyun isn’t too happy

He’ll immediately be at your defence, jumping over into the stands and pushing back one of the guys who takes a step forward and swears at you

It ends up being a lot worse than it needed to be.. Jaehyun getting a suspension from the team for the match, which he doesn’t care about

Mostly because he walks off with you and sits down with you on the outside of the stands, ignoring johnny who tells him he needs to speak to the coach

He’s literally infatuated with you and everything you do

So a one game suspension isn’t anything for him, as long as he knows you’re okay!!

Though you do tell him to not do it again, and he in return makes you promise you’ll sit with his and johnny’s friends from now on

Who are all tall, buff guys that won’t ever want to envoke the wrath of jung jaehyun so protect you like you’re fine china

It’s also cute at his matches

Like sometimes when he comes up to you before the game and asks for one kiss before he starts

“It’s good luck, do you want me to not score?”

And you’re sure he fixes it because every time he does it he gets an immediate hat trick that very game

sometimes he’ll come afterwards but you’ll tell him to shower first since he always seems to have dirt all over him and he’s sweaty

He’ll smother you anyway with a hug so good luck getting that out of your sweater ~

other than that, jaehyun will show you off to everyone

He’s so proud of you, even for the smallest things

Say you get a question right in your class, he’ll be sitting with lucas one day eating lunch and he’ll start talking about how smart you are

Lucas is just humming, ultimately not too interested because he’s heard this all a thousand times to be honest

“You don’t understand lucas, there’s something special here. They’re just so… special. Smart. Talented. What else could i ask for? I must have been really special in my past life”

“I know hyung, you tell me all the time”

“But you don’t understand”

Lucas will complain about it all the time to you and ask you to shut him up at some point

Even if you ask him if he talks about you like that he won’t deny it, because he knows its all true

jaehyun is just the best boyfriend of all time and it can’t be argued with

He’s the type who smiles when you’re kissing and can’t call you baby or say he loves you without his dimples showing

Its like those sickly sweet romances, except nothing about it is sickly to either of you and he would do anything for you

He did almost burn down his entire kitchen when he found out that you liked steamed buns and wanted to make you some

He just couldn’t work out the steamer and luckily johnny and his mom were around to save the day, thank god

All jaehyun wants in return is for you to love him back

and loving him is easy, have you seen him?

oh, he would also request that you spend at least two nights a week with him because he gets kind of lonely

and he also wants you as a study buddy since he can’t concentrate when he’s on his own

But when you tell him to get on with his work he’ll happily do it~

I guess the whole soccer player bit is an added extra, since who doesn’t like soccer players?

Moreover, who doesn’t like jung jaehyun?

a/n: thank you guys for putting up with my absence! I'm back now, though I still have a lot of work to do so I'm sorry if I'm not as active as I have been before. I missed you all! enjoy jaehyun as an apology, and the rest to come!

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun reaction #nct scenarios #nct reaction #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun soft hours #nct #jaehyun #I want to date jaehyun :(

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enkelimagnus · 5 years

Text

Dog Show Romance

Magnus x Alec / 2k+

Magnus Bane and his friends are back on the dog show circuit, with Magnus' three dobermans.

Side Saia and Dotarina

Read on AO3

Turns out this show's judge is Alec Lightwood, someone who's judged their dogs before and someone who Magnus got to know quite... intimately.

Catarina Loss had been Magnus’ friend for a long time now, and not only was she his friend but she was also his partner in dog shows. She and the rest of their small team always knew how to calm Magnus and his dogs down. It was funny, in a way. Magnus was so used to this panic and stress of beauty contests but he still needed Catarina, Dot, Ragnor and Maia’s support.

Catarina was currently out in the field, grabbing the show catalogue and checking who their judge was. It was a bit of a habit for them, not knowing the name of the judge until the very last moment.

As Magnus smoothed over the lines of his grey suit, Maia, Ragnor, and Maia’s boyfriend Simon were making the dogs run around the field, getting as much of their restless energy out before the judging.

Magnus watched the strong and determined gait of his babies. He wasn’t afraid of telling people his dogs were like his children. This time, he was presenting Persephone, a female puppy that would be in the Puppy category, Orpheus, a Twelve-to-Eighteen month male, and Lethe, his 4-year-old female that he was presenting in the Open category, and that Catarina and Dot’s kid, Madzie was going to present for extra points as a young handler.

“You’re stressing out,” Dot pointed out. She’d just finished to set up the grooming table, and was looking at their friends running the dogs. “One day you’ll learn that you have nothing to worry about. Your darlings are perfect.”

Magnus shrugged. “I know. I don’t know why I worry. It’s stupid.”

Just as he was muttering that, he caught sight of Catarina walking back towards them. Her face did not show any particular joy or dread so Magnus thought that it could only be good. She stopped next to them and sighed.

“We’re having Alec Lightwood,” she said. “The one that judged Lethe and Orpheus last year.”

Magnus froze. Fuck. That was just his fucking luck.

Dot cursed. “If I remember well, he’s a hard ass.”

Magnus nodded, silently. He remembered way too well. Alec Lightwood had incredibly observant eyes and one hell of a knowledge. Especially one hell of a knowledge of black and rust Doberman Pinschers like Magnus’ babies. Alec Lightwood also had amazing eyes and one hell of a knowledge of how to fuck a man like Magnus.

Catarina stared at him. “You’re being weird, Magnus.”

Dot raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think he had a stroke. You good, buddy?��

“Great, I’m just great,” Magnus mumbled. In all honesty, Magnus had not thought he’d see Alec again. He didn’t do dog shows that often, and there were many happening in the area. It had been almost a year since they’d seen each other too. Maybe Alec had forgotten about him? Magnus had not, for sure, but maybe the other man had made less of a big deal out of their absolutely wonderful night of lust and passion.

Maia, Ragnor and Simon brought back the dogs and Dot grabbed Persephone, putting her on the grooming bench and starting to prepare her for judgement. Lethe laid down on the blanket next to Magnus’ feet, and Madzie started talking to her and petting her.

Magnus could feel some of his nerves melt away as he watched his friends and his dogs, pulling Orpheus into his arms for a cuddle. Orpheus was starting to get a little too heavy for it, but Magnus never grew tired of cuddling his babies.

All was going well when Orpheus wriggled out of his grasp and got back to the ground, going directly to sniff the shoes of the newest arrival. “Hello, pretty,” a voice cooed and Magnus froze, again. Fuck.

He sat up from the stool they’d brought and held out his hand. The other man shook it. “Mr Bane,” he smiled. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Alec Lightwood was still very tall, with sharp hazel eyes and a sharper smile. He was still incredibly attractive. “Mr Lightwood,” Magnus nodded. “Should you be talking to us right now?”

The man chuckled. “Don’t worry. I am going to all the owners to say hello. Common courtesy,” he nodded and winked at him.

Magnus nodded, taking Orpheus’ leash firmly in hand. “That is very nice of you,” he replied. Alec Lightwood watched him with a certain smirk, something that made Magnus instantly aware that no, Alec had not forgotten either.

Alec turned to the rest of the team. “Good morning, I’m Alec Lightwood. I hope you had a good trip here and that everything is going okay for you,” he said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants in a gesture that was probably sexy to none but Magnus.

The team nodded, thanking him and making small talk for a couple of minutes. Ragnor was sending Magnus some very telling looks. Oh yeah, he was going to get a sermon the second Alec Lightwood walked away from them.

“I’ll see you on the ring,” Alec said as parting words, his hand now gently tapping Magnus’ elbow before he walked away.

“You fucked him,” Ragnor said immediately, and Magnus cringed. Not only did he not want Alec to hear, but he didn’t want the other owners to either.

“Yeah, yeah,” Magnus sighed. “I did.”

Maia chuckled. “Damn. Good catch, man.”

Catarina sighed, shaking her head. “So that’s what you were doing last year after the show. Disappearing on us.”

“More of whom I was doing,” Magnus mumbled, crossing his arms. “I didn’t exactly think I’d see him again.”

Dot rolled her eyes. “Come on. The world of doberman beauty contests is not that big.”

“Was it worth it?” Ragnor asked, and Magnus opened his mouth and closed it again.

He remembered the two glasses of gin and tonic at the hotel bar, the man’s eyes on him, and the way he talked about everything with the same devotion in his voice. They hadn’t only talked dirty, they’d talked dogs and laws and god, he’d been smart and caring and…. Magnus had thought about him for days after that night, Alec’s hands on him, firm and determined, mapping every inch of his body as they made out in the man’s hotel room. He remembered his cock inside of him, stretching him, filling him, long and fat and those perfectly rhythmic hard thrusts that made Magnus’ arms and legs weak and threatened to send him face first in the pillows.

“Yes,” Magnus mumbled. “It was really fucking worth it.”

He had no idea what the hell he was going to do now, because being close to Alec Lightwood again was sending his mind back to the year before and the things they’d done. He did not want to get a hard-on in the middle of judging. He was better than that.

Catarina sighed. “Fine. Let’s get the dogs ready and hope this does not end in a disaster because of your libido.” She mumbled, and they all started preparing. Magnus stayed next to the dogs as he usually did, cuddling them and muttering praises. Judging was supposed to start soon enough.

He clipped on the first number, the one for Persephone. He stood at the edge of the ring, watching the other dogs. They were of course aiming for Blue Ribbons of the first place for the three dogs, Winners Dog for Orpheus, Winners Bitch for either Persephone or Lethe. Having a Best in Breed title would also be nice, but Magnus wasn’t exactly pushing for that. They had two breeders in front of them, and Magnus doubted he would be better than them.

Persephone stood quietly by his leg, and seemed to be observing the others as well. Before the females came the males, as to avoid possible odors of heats and other issues. Soon enough, it was their turn.

Magnus led Persephone into the ring, and she trotted by his side evenly. He already wanted to take her in his arms and congratulate her. She held the position perfectly when they stopped, except an occasional tilt of the head.

Alec walked to them, nodding. He mumbled little praises under his breath as he gently touched the dog, checking her entire body for any sign that she could be disqualified. Magnus watched him for a moment, seeing the way he was cataloguing everything. He checked her teeth and nodded, going to check the other dogs in her category.

Magnus eventually led her in another round of trotting before Alec walked to him and shook his hand. “Congratulations,” he said softly. They were the first of the Puppy Bitch class.

They went through all the rings and judgements and though they made it to Winners Dog and Bitch, they didn’t make it past that. The breeder in front of them had trained like crazy. It was always that. The breeders, their training and their ties to the judges.

They broke out the wine bottle and the food, and settled around their table, the dogs laying at their feet and getting pieces of meat from them regularly. They laughed and had a drink and waited for the day to be over so they could get the hell out and go home.

It was around 4pm when there was a clearing of throat behind Magnus and he looked around. Alec Lightwood was standing there. “May I have a word?” He asked, and it was clear that he was talking and thinking only to Magnus.

Magnus stood up, leaving everyone behind but taking the plastic cup full of rosé with him. Alec and him walked a bit away, towards an area with a bit less people. Magnus stayed silent, occasionally glancing at the man next to him.

“I recognized the dog’s name first,” Alec said after a while of walking in silence. “Lethe of the Silent Gardens? I remembered you teaching me how to pronounce it when we were at the bar,” he chuckled. “I couldn’t seem to be able to get it. And then… Breeder: Ragnor Fell, Owner: Magnus Bane. That’s a whole lot of hard to pronounce words. The kind that you remember easily after a while.”

“You didn’t seem to have problems with Magnus, last time we met,” Magnus pointed out, taking a sip of his wine and looking at the man. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Me neither,” Alec said. “But I hoped I would. You left quite an impression.”

Magnus hummed. “My number was on the Judging Program, in the list of owners. You didn’t call.”

Alec chuckled, putting his hands behind his back. “I don’t exactly keep every program of every show I go to.”

“I do. I keep them and I write the price we got, and I put them in a box on my bookshelves. Like a box of dog show related memories, I guess.” Magnus looked at him. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

Alec stopped walking and sighed, obviously bracing himself. “I have been thinking about you… so often in the last year. And not just because you’re amazing in bed, you just… the way you talk, the way you smile, and the way you’re with your dogs, it’s adorable.”

Adorable? Magnus was rarely called adorable. He didn’t hate it at all, in fact, he loved it.

“I’m from New York,” Magnus said. “I live in Brooklyn.”

Alec grinned. “Me too.”

Magnus didn’t know what he was doing but he took out his own phone and opened a message. “Give me your number,” he said. “We can meet up and… I don’t know. Talk about stuff.”

Alec chuckled and nodded. “Let me.” He reached over, taking Magnus’ phone from his hands and typing in his number. “Here. I want to see you again. Outside of a dog show, and… sooner than in a year, okay?”

Magnus nodded. “That works. Okay, we can do that.” He put his phone back in his pocket and looked at the other man. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to kiss you here and now, so I’ll wait until our first date.”

Alec looked at him with a grin. God, he was beautiful when he grinned. It made Magnus’ heart beat faster and felt like sunshine after a grey day. “Our first date… Next week. Are you free?”

“Wednesday evening?”

“Perfect,” Alec replied, and the word in itself was full of joy.

They stayed like this, a little awkward, for a moment, before Alec walked him back to where his friends were. Magnus finished the wine and he invited Alec to have a drink, but the man refused. They nodded at each other. Magnus settled back in his camping chair and shrugged when his friends asked what that had been about.

His phone vibrated with a new text message that read: “Can’t wait to see you on Wednesday. - AL”

#malec #saia #dotarina #fic #shadowhunters

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5: A Good Night to Die

A HEROES Fanfiction Angel Before the Fall Series By: Allyssa J. Watkins

“I am going to kill Sylar tonight."

Noah turned the iron spike over and over in his fingers, practically trembling with anticipation. It was red with rust and dried blood. The first time he'd held this spike, he was pulling it out of Sylar's skull. Tonight it was going back in for good. I am going to kill Sylar tonight. How many times had he said those words aloud, wielded them like his choice weapon, threatened it, savored it, promised it, to Claire as she sobbed against his shoulder, to The Company as he stood over the blood-stained carpet of yet another Special with the top of their head sawn off? Hundreds. And every promise, every vow had been a lie. Sylar was an infection, a cancer that he could never quite get all of, that kept coming back even stronger than before. Finally, after four grisly years, Sylar Gray had made a mistake. He'd fallen in love, and given Noah a heart to break, a weak spot to press and ultimately shatter. The plan was foolproof, flawless, and would end in Sylar's Death. It was an impending event, the only outcome, an actual definite. I am going to kill Sylar tonight.

He squeezed his fingers into a fist around the spike, his eyes sharp and focused as he imagined it dripping with Sylar's blood. That snarky psychopath had raised his lethal finger for the last time. I've got you, Gabriel. No more running, no more smart remarks or murderous parlor tricks. The chase is over.

"Hey Bennet, we got Ally to the cell, and gave your orders to the five guards in position. Man, your Primatech Paper Phonies, they make my brother's guys look like punk kids playing paintball!"

"Is she still unconscious? I need her completely blacked out, Sylar's already enough of a variable without adding Mrs. Smith too. In fact, I want all the intercom speakers to the detention wing silenced, alarms, emergency warnings, kill it all. When he comes, I do NOT want her to know. And Peter...... they aren't your brother's guys........ make no mistake, they're DANKO'S guys. Your brother is just the friendly face that legitimizes an ultra illegal operation. Don't forget that. I'm watching out for him. If we need anyone right now, it's Nathan Petrelli. He'll come around, you'll see. Killing Sylar is exactly the win we need to get him to stop this ridiculous witch hunt.

Peter got really quiet, biting the corner of his lip before looking at Noah with solemn eyes. "Thank you. Thank you, Noah. God....... I needed to hear that. It all comes down to tonight. I just want my brother back. Ally's down for the count, I'll tell the security guys about the intercom........"

"I have a question. What happens if someone comes here, actually wanting to buy some paper?"

Noah cracked a smile, as he pocketed the spike. "Good question, Parkman. You know, it's funny, in all my twenty plus years in the business, that has never once happened."

Noah stared at his flip phone on his desk, and Peter followed his gaze.

"Has he called yet?"

"Sylar? No, not yet, but it's coming. I can feel his hatred and rage from here. Rene hasn't checked in though, that's what's worrying me. I told him eight o'clock on the dot, or I'm deporting him."

"Relax. I just got off the phone with Claire, she's fine, she's having some kind of sleepover girls night with her dorm mates."

Noah whirled around, his features hard. "I didn't say anything about Claire, what do you mean you just got off the phone with CLAIRE!?"

"Whoah, Angry Dad, she called ME!! Your daughter's worried about you, Noah. C'mon don't give me that look, I played it cool, I didn't tell her anything about tonight. I'm her uncle too, remember? I told her Sylar was a near miss, and that The Haitian's there strictly as a precaution. Smart move by the way, Sylar's not getting anywhere near her with him hanging around.

"Perfect. Now you know my daughter's exact location, just what I wanted, and HELLO, "Cool Uncle Peter," how do you know that, "girls night sleepover," isn't the secret code for "college rager party with tons of strange boys," any one of them being SYLAR!? She's MY daughter, Peter, she may not have my actual DNA, but she inherited my lying ability pretty quick."

"I just want to say," Parkman started, looking at Noah earnestly, "I myself, didn't hear anything about where Claire may or may not be. And if she is where I don't know, Sylar's not getting it from me."

"Na, she's not trying to pull one over on you, Noah, I heard Notebook playing in the background, and at least one girl crying over some guy named Chad. I think we're good."

Parkman made a face, "Wait.......You've SEEN Notebook?"

"What? No......" Peter stammered, his cheeks turning red.

"How did you recognize it if you haven't seen it?" Parkman asked trying not to laugh.

"I..... I just guessed- I mean, I'm sure she told me the name of the- one of the other girls probably-

Both Parkman and Noah leaned in expectantly, with knowing smiles.

"Alright fine!!! I watched it with my mom one night when I got off late, she'd been fighting with my dad, and GEEZ it was just the one time, okay!"

"Did you fantasize about being Ryan Gosling?"

"No! Well, maybe a little....... Rachel McAdams is hot, alright?"

"Let's hope for the love of GOD you lie better to my daughter, than you do to us."

Suddenly the flip phone on Noah's desk rang, and a cold, deathly silence filled the room.

"That's him. Everybody out. It's showtime."

**********

Noah inhaled deeply, as he took the phone in his hands. The ring sounded angry, accusing. He flipped it open, his hand steady, and slowly brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

Nothing at first. Silence. But it was the Sylar kind of silence, the calm before the storm, the kind of silence that was an obvious threat. He heard it then, the heavy, erratic breathing, and could almost picture Sylar, shoulders rising and falling as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Hey Syyy! I had a feeling you might check in. How's it goin' buddy? Thanks for the scar."

"......... Where......... is............ she?" Sylar's voice was seething, animalistic, and not at all human. It sounded the way you'd talk to someone right before you murdered them.

"I've got her, Gabriel. You want her back? You better be willing to make a deal."

Noah could practically hear Sylar's nostrils flaring on the other line, his fuming inhale as he tried to steady his breathing. More silence.

"Sylar?"

"DAMN you to HELL, Noah! You son of a BITCH, you have NO idea what you've just done!!!!"

"You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth? You'll be kissing her goodbye, if you don't start talking."

More silence

"Let me guess, Noah," Sylar responded venomously, saying Noah's name like it was an insult all its own. "This is the part where I break down sobbing, the distraught boyfriend, begging you not to hurt her, and offer myself in exchange, right? WRONG. I don't plan on dealing. This is a courtesy call. THIS is the LAST chance you'll EVER have to hand her over, before I raise hell all around you and take her anyway. You don't do every single damn thing I tell you, then you're in for the WORST night of your life, and oh GOD you're going to wish I'd just killed you." Sylar chuckled coldly, his voice dripping with dark sarcasm.

"You're not really in the position to be making any demands, right now, Sy." Noah smiled, his eyes razor sharp, practically feeling Sylar's back arch, disgusted. "I know you. You're playing it cool, chillin' like a villain, but you're going CRAZY without her, it's tearing you up inside, I can feel it, I can hear it, in the edge in your voice. You're off your handle, and you don't know what the HELL you're going to do........."

Sylar's nostrils flared with his fury, and he scrunched the burner phone in his hand as he lowered it against his cheek, tempted to crush it with his fist, his eyes flashing like wildfire embers.

He looked at the violent destruction all around him, half of it he didn't even remember doing, he'd been so blind with rage. It was one of his old haunts, a long ago abandoned hotel in Queens called, "The Rogue." The kind of place he would have never taken his lady. Dark blood spatter on the floor from previous kills, slashed paintings, broken ceramic pieces from lamps, ashtrays, soap dishes, anything he could throw, torn down wallpaper, green marble actually dug out from the floor, crumbling holes in the wall, shredded curtains and sheets, and an entire mattress torn clean in half, feathers still floating in the dusty air, after he'd ripped his way through the down pillows. Every single thing in the room had been ravenously demolished. His whole body shook with his deep hatred of Noah and how dead on he was. Damn right, he'd gone mental.

"Face it, Sylar. You're out of moves. Your shield is literally down. Checkmate, because I've got your Queen. Step away from the board and turn yourself in. You do that, and I might even let you say goodbye."

"What do you mean LITERALLY down!?" Sylar said far louder and much more concerned than he'd meant to. Damn it. He turned his head at an exact angle, feeling his chest expand. "No....... no, nice try, you wouldn't kill her before you got to me. Ha. Yeah right, Good Guy Noah Bennet. She's alive. I would know if you were lying. Besides, she probably reminds you too much of your precious Claire."

"Gabriel, you know better than anyone that Good Guys are capable of some very BAD things. She's not dead...... not yet. But if you don't give yourself up...... She will be. Especially if you even say Claire's name one more time."

Sylar waited for it, the reassuring tingle, his body signaling Noah's lie, his vision shaking. Noah was a good liar, but he wasn't a killer. He waited..... But it never came.

"I should have KILLED you in the alley, Noah. I had you. I had your throbbing jugular between my fingers, and I should have squeezed hard, until it burst open."

"You didn't have me, Gabriel. I had you. I had everything right where I wanted it. If you'd taken one step where you weren't supposed to be, I'd have shot her in the chest, her blood cloaking possibilities be damned."

"Please. No you wouldn't have. Even if you did, I can heal, or did you forget? You know who you can thank for that. One injection of my blood, and she'd be alive, and you'd be just another NYC homicide. You EVER shoot her, or so much as touch one curl, and I'll cut out your beating heart."

Noah grinned jovially. Oh he didn't know, didn't even realize it yet. He wished he could see his face as he told him. "Wrong. Your blood can't save her, you fool. One shot, she's dead. Her blood can't be altered by anyone but herself, or did YOU forget? You can give her every drop you've got, but she's not coming back. It doesn't matter if I killed her then, or if I kill her now, or if YOU kill her later. That's right, one day you're going to get in one of your moods, you're going to get angry, you're going to work out your aggression without thinking, and she's going to be standing too close....... Don't you get it!? You're going to kill her the same way you did your own sweet mother, the same way you killed VIRGINIA!!!!"

"DON'T YOU EVER SAY MY MOTHER'S NAME!!!!!!! Sylar screamed into the phone, his eyebrows slanted dangerously downward, his bottom lip shuddering, incensed. He punched another hole into the wall, with a yell, felt it crumble with the force of his fist, and watched his bruised and bleeding knuckles melt softly back into perfect skin. He was nauseous, his head swimming. He couldn't save Ally. If they took her life, he couldn't bring her back........

"You can save her, Sylar. Turn yourself in, and she goes free, untouched, safe, and you'll never have to worry about living through that trauma again. Her life for yours, it's that easy.

Noah could feel the uncertainty, the fear in Sylar's silence.

"You were right about one thing...... No matter how this goes down, I'll NEVER let you have her. You really think you deserve LOVE after all that you've done!? Villains never get the girl, Gabriel, there is NO happily ever after for you. After you DESTROYED my marriage there's no way in hell I'm just going to let you ride off into your twisted version of a sunset, with that girl, letting you use and abuse her to your black heart's content. I'd rather see her dead, than on your arm."

"You'll never take her from me again, Noah. I'm going to get her back, and when I do...... I'm going to punish you, ohhhh yes, I can make you feel pain that you'd never believe exists. You take away my dream, and I'll introduce you to your nightmare." Sylar felt his blood quicken, the killer within stirring, a slow smirk salaciously working its way across his lips. "The game's not over, it starts with me throwing away the board."

"Listen to you. You love it, don't you?" Noah said, a bit incredulous. "Sylar Gray, The Big Bad Boyfriend."

Sylar smiled, one eyebrow raised, his dark eyes positively sinful." It certainly makes the downtime more fun. So much more....... interactive."

"So you're sleeping with her?"

Sylar chuckled, brushing his thumb along his strong jawline, feeling his heart race at the thought. "Come, Noah, must you be so crass? It's called love-making and no. She's not that kind of girl."

"But you ARE that kind of boy. Don't think I didn't see you with Elle before that second eclipse. If you hadn't already killed her father, he would have killed you."

"Oh you know me, Noah, always plan ahead. Yes, I am, and I'm ready, but she's delicate, and worth waiting for...... besides you know how I love to have my imagination teased. The anticipation........ can be exquisite."

Noah felt his stomach writhe, thoroughly creeped out, and his voice was wildly unenthused. "Well..... lucky her. I suppose third time's a charm."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know EXACTLY what I mean. You're a literal lady killer, first Maya, then Elle, and now your new victim, Lovely Miss Ally."

Sylar rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Maya was a means to an end, and last time I checked still very much alive, I might add. The whole seduction was a ruse, and I didn't even have my powers then."

"Which didn't stop you from putting a bullet in her chest if I remember correctly."

"Insurance. If I hadn't, there would have been no way to know if Mohinder was giving me the right vial. I needed my powers back. And Elle....... Elle was your fault."

"Alright. I'll give you that one."

"Although........ I should thank you, really. If you and Elle hadn't pulled your messed up little stunt, I never would have become Sylar. You created me, Noah, and stopped poor Gabriel from killing himself."

"Like Frankenstein's Monster. There's not a day that goes by that I don't regret that. I should have let you hang yourself."

"Oh Elle....... If she hadn't used me, manipulated me, and outright lied to me about my parents, we might have worked. I think of her every time I'm electrocuting the life out of some poor soul......." He flipped his wrist, smiling fondly, and Noah could hear the crackle of blue lightning. "Oh yes, Elle's parting gift. It's funny...... at first, my little brunette seemed too good to be true as well. I threw her against the wall because I thought she was working for you. Fool me twice......"

"If I could have possibly known the hold she'd have on you, the unsettling fascination you'd have for her, she would be. Honestly, I imagined your taste in women much more malevolent. Nobody thinks the serial killer's going to fall for the girl scout. It sounds like a bad slasher flick. But then again..... what is it you call yourself? Sylar, The Great Defiler?"

"A lot of people call me that."

"No, it's just you. You make them good girls go bad, huh? Or is it opposites attract and all that?"

"Who says it can't be both? I just find it so sexy that the same girl and boy that always stayed in, unnoticed, unimportant, and spent every single night of their lives alone, are now the two most powerful beings in this world. Just warms ya up, doesn't it? I own the night now, Noah. And I own Ally.

"Not right now, you don't. You may have her fooled, with your tortured soul, misunderstood, all-I-need-is-love act, but as usual I see right through you. She's nothing but your next casualty. She belongs to The Company now, where her powers can be used for good, and not shielding worthless scum like you.

"Before you get too excited, Noah, about using her and get these grand delusions of invincible armies, allow me to enlighten you. "It won't work if you try to force her. She has to do it willingly. She has to want to do it. And she only has enough power to surround one person at a time."

"How the hell did you get her to do it for you that first time, then?"

"Hmmm.....It's killing you isn't it? I can't decide if it was my sexy eyebrows or my annihilating smile that convinced her. Huh. Probably both. You see, she has a thing for bad boys. And as it so happens, I have a thing for good girls. Especially when they have that little something extra y'know?

"Or much more likely, she showed you out of pure desperation so that you wouldn't kill her that first encounter. That's one to tell the grandkids."

"Yeah," Sylar smiled softly, remembering. She'd been so brave and instantly drawn to him, so willing and gentle. "That too...... God she's so clever. The moment she touched my chest, and I felt that inexplicable power pulsing through my veins, what can I say? She had me.

"And her little spell lasts about two hours doesn't it?"

Noah heard Sylar go dangerously silent on the other line. His breathing getting quiet, deadly.

"Yeah, that's right, I know about that too. Two hours, and it's been, what do you think, at least nine since your last power up?"

"Isn't that fortunate?" Sylar practically hissed, his snarky tone turning again cold and vicious. "You might actually have a fighting chance..... for once, Noah. Or at least a few hours longer than you deserve to live....... Well, it's been swell chatting, Bennet, but I'm bored. This is your last chance. Are you going to give me what's mine, or do we get to do this the fun way?

"You don't even know where I am, Gabriel. You'll never find her."

"I don't? You sure about that, Noah?"

A loud bang came from inside the closet and Sylar twitched like a predator that hadn't yet been fed.

"I know when you're bluffing, and I know when you don't know what the hell you're doing."

"Fun way it is. It's a good night to die, Noah. See ya in a few."

Sylar hung up, and Noah slowly lowered his phone. "Yes, Gabriel, it is."

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

#sylar #heroes #gabriel gray #noah bennet #peter petrelli #matt parkman #primatech #claire bennet #sylar x oc #angel before the fall

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theysaywhatasadsight · 5 years

Text

Fangs, Claws and Webshooters

A/n: This is for @revengingbarnes ‘s 10k writing challenge, the theme of which was TV shows. I chose Teen Wolf with Peter P. This was an interesting challenge to write!

She walked out of ethics, books in hand, her friends giggling at a joke Rachel was making. She rolled her eyes and laughed at Rachel's annoyed face. Her phone chimed, causing her to do an awkward juggle as she took it out of her pocket.

“There’s an old warehouse near Tempaera's, 3 A.M. He'll be armed.” The peaceful facade of her being just another average college student was broken, replaced by the reality; she was a nameless and faceless mercenary, engaged in the slaughter of a new hunter. Misusing her werewolf abilities was not ethical, then again she had grown up in Beacon Hills, where every second week a new creature popped up, hell bent on destroying the world.

Shooting off a quick message to respond to another friend's text, she wondered what excuse she would make this time for skipping date night.

Having a significant other wasn't something she had yet become used to. There was flirting, of course, mild and harmless with all her brother's friends (and later even proteges; true alpha certainly attracted werewolves everywhere) but never something that was even borderline serious.

She’d never previously had any time to pursue relationships, nor any motivation. Between protecting her town and somehow finding the time to study to even get a chance at a decent college. Needless to say, when she made it to MIT, following in the footsteps of Lydia, the entire pack was overjoyed but sad to let her go.

She’d met Peter in Introduction to Programming Languages, where he’d crashed in 15 minutes late, sat next to her and spent the entire time answering every question that was put up. They soon developed competitiveness, which lead to sniping back and forth at each other, to studying together for tests and then failing when the two realized they couldn’t sit and study without getting distracted.

She had her suspicions he was...something, because of his accelerated stamina and ability to go without sleep forever apparently. Possibly a werewolf, maybe something else; she would have to check the bestiary to be sure. He didn’t mind the missed dates or the occasions when she suddenly disappeared back to California for a ‘family emergency’, so maybe he did understand her reasons.

Before she could text him, her phone rang. She smiled and answered.

“Won’t make it today, gotta study for a Chemistry test.” he told her and sighed.

“I was about to cancel too, something’s come up.”

“Are you cheating on me, YN? I don’t take well to being second choice.”

“Yes, I’m cheating on you with Captain America, happy? Ugh those baby blues, that hair, what can I even say?”

“At Least you didn’t say Iron Man, I don’t think my heart could take it if you went at it with my former employer; not to mention he’s married to the CEO of Stark Industries.”

“Ha ha, Pete, I’m dying of laughter.”

“That was the intention.”

“Whatever, bye. Love you.”

“Yes, I love me too.” she let out a chuckle of disbelief and hung up.

She sat down to do a bit of homework before heading towards the warehouse. Scratching her head at the question, she was debating calling Peter to ask for help when her phone rang again.

“Stiles.”

“Hey. You, uh, got my text?”

“Yeah. Who is this guy anyway?”

“He’s, uh, you remember those killings a few years back? Everyone supernatural was a target?”

“Hmm, I guess? Bunch of people thought they’d rid the world of evil. He one of them?” she sighed.

“The philosophy’s pretty common, YN. They think we’re monsters, that the world is better off without us. He’s a part of a group going after every creature in the bestiary.”

“Are they going after mutants too?”

“Not those in the accords, as far as I know.”

“Never thought you’d be snooping around in government stuff. What would the Sheriff say?”

“Be disappointed in me, probably. Which is what your brother is now. He called me in a murderous rage about how I was ‘endangering his sister’s life’ and how i ‘should be more responsible’, considering I’m ‘an older brother figure to her’”

“How are the two of you even responsible in any way? You throw yourselves at any danger you find! I volunteered to do this, Stiles, I’m capable.”

“Speaking of, when were we going to hear about this guy you’re dating?”

“How’d you find out?”

“Peter Parker; good grades, straight A student, interned for a billionaire, but got in on that same scholarship you did.”

“Misusing and taking advantage of your position?”

“Maybe. So I have to give a full report on him to Scott but if you could…”

“I’ll text you when it’s done, Stiles, I’ve got homework, bye!” she cut the call, smiling fondly.

She walked into the warehouse, whistling.

“Let’s make this easy for both of us. You stop hiding and come out, I kill you and I go back home and do my chem homework.”

“Werewolf. You took the bait.”

‘You’ve just started talking and I already want to kill you, God. How does your little cult stand you?”

“Your species is a walking plague. How many have you infected, little one?” he stepped into her view, brandishing a gun pointed straight at her.

“Plague? Species? I’m not some mythical beast.” she kept her tone taunting to hide the waver in her voice. It was only the 3rd time she was doing this. “I should go into bounty hunting, heard it’s lucrative.”

“You’ll have to get out here alive before you go making plans, beast.” he whispered before firing, she dodged and snarled, claws snapping and features shifting. She ran at him, swiping. He ducked and sliced at her right side with a knife. Crying out in pain, she fell, throwing her claws at him in frustration. He fell too, crawling backwards to get away from her. She stood up, grabbing a metal rod from his bag and dragging it towards him, it ringing on the floor.

“We’re going to do this old fashioned human way, then” she grunted, wincing at the cut near her kidney. “You added wolfsbane to the knife, huh? You’re pro, I’ll give that to you.” She hit at his wrist, making him scream and drop the knife. “But I’ve seen worse.”

She hit his abdomen, then his torso. The wolfsbane hurt like hell, and she was sure she was about to lose her vision.

“It’s not just wolfsbane, little one. It’s something much, much better.”

She swore under her breath as her legs gave out. Reaching out, claws extended, she closed your eyes, hearing powder showering down on the floor.

The man raised the gun a final time, saying a prayer to his gods. He smiled, squeezing the trigger-

The glass windows above crashed as a masked figure swung in. The man shot at whatever it was, but they were too fast. He was suddenly immobilized, down on the floor with sticky webs on his wrists that pinned him down.

Peter rushed to the girl lying inside the circle of what looked to be ash. The killer had a ritual apparently, where the victims were surrounded by ash and were gunned down. He turned the girl over, who was convulsing. Recognizing the face, he inhaled sharply. Picking up the rod next to her, he swung at the killer’s head, knocking him out cold. He picked up his girlfriend and strode out.

He laid her down gently on the asphalt and took his mask off. She was awakening gradually, gasping in pain.

“YN, hold on, okay, I'm calling an ambulance.”

“No, wait.” She coarsely whispered. He leaned over her. “Is the cut healing?”

“It's deep, really really deep.”

“There's a lighter in the pocket of my jacket. Take it out and burn the wound.”

“What? No, I'm not gonna hurt you more.”

“It'll help with the wolfsbane, Peter. Do it.” She groaned. He quickly took it out and switched it on, grimacing as he put it on her skin. The wound gave off yellow smoke and her eyes glowed. Her claws dug into the ground underneath.

“That's it, that'll take the wolfsbane out. Call whoever you want and tell them...tell them I was in an accident.” She managed to whisper before she blacked out. Peter looked at her, brushing away hair from her forehead.

She came to gradually, eyelids fluttering. Her head pounded and she had no control over her limbs. She tried to sit up, wincing. She was in the hospital, it seemed. There was commotion in the chair to the right. Someone abruptly sat up, blinking widely.

“Scott,” she whispered as he stood up and hugged her.

“Stupid girl. I told you, you don’t go after a manic killer on your own.” he kissed her hair.

“Did you two rescue me?”

“No, we got here a day ago. Your boyfriend called Stiles, the first number he found on your phone and Stiles called me and…”

“How long have I been out?” she cut him off.

“Three days.”

“Scott, whatever he shot me with, it was beyond wolfsbane, I couldn’t heal.”

“Yes, Lydia researched it, said it was some kind of hybrid derivative. These people, they’re trained to take us out. She’s trying to find an antidote.”

“Coffee, kid?” Stiles sat down next to Peter, handing him a cup.

“Yeah, thanks.” his eyes were bloodshot, not having slept for the past 3 days. After he left that warehouse, he had called in anonymously to the emergency services, telling them the location and the restrained killer inside.

“You should go get some sleep. I think they’re only allowing family as of now.” he sighed.

“Nah, I’m good.” Stiles nodded, as they sat in awkward silence.

“So, uh, Spiderman?”

“I’m sorry what?”

“You’re spiderman, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Kid, I work for the government, I know my way around.”

“Oh yeah? Well, your hometown's life expectancy is really, really low. Teens killed every year, 65 percent go out of town for college. Care to explain? Didn’t think so.”

Stiles grimaced. “You’re smart, kid. So, tell me this, are you one of those assholes hunting supernaturals?”

“What? No!”

“So, you’re not spiderman and yet managed to walk out of a skirmish with a, uh, serial killer, which, might I add, your werewolf girlfriend couldn't and called me?” He shrugged. “It’s your secret to keep, buddy, just, don’t put YN in danger.”

“She kind of did that on her own. At your suggestion, I believe.”

“I told her not to do it, okay? And she said, I quote “I have claws and fangs, Stiles, I intend to use them.” I mean, who says that? How can you get through college and be an assassin? It was different in high school.”

“How so? Were you all assassins for hire?” Peter turned to him.

“No, no no. We were just trying to live and supernatural shit would often come up and try to kill us. It was batshit crazy stuff.”

“I’m kind of familiar with that, except I never had a pack.”

“Boohoo, sob story, wait until you hear about when I got possessed by an evil spirit...wait what? So you do admit you’re Spiderman?”

“Look, I’ve missed three days of classes and my girlfriend is 3 rooms over trying not to die.”

“She’s like my baby sister dude, not that you should have any sisterly feelings for her, and..”

He paused when a nurse leaned down in front of the two.“Um, Mr. Parker? Mr. Stilinski? Ms. McCall is awake and requesting to see the both of you. I’d advise you to not give sudden shocks or news.”

She was talking on the phone when the two came rushing to the door. She held up a finger while Scott stood up from the chair he was sitting in.

“She’s talking to Mom right now, telling her not to worry.”

“She’s not listening.” she smiled as she cut the call. Glancing up, she saw the three figure standing at the threshold, all glowering. She sat up, got down from the bed and walked over.

“Okay. Scott, you’ve done your protective alpha thing already. Stiles, Peter, you two can battle to death over who gets to scream at me first. I, need that" she said grabbing Peter's cup and sipped.

“Okay, stop. You're not poisoning yourself with shitty coffee the minute you wake up.” Stiles took the cup back from her. “And lie down, please.”

She made a face and sat down on the bed. “How soon are they discharging me?”

“They'll keep you under observation for a few days.”

“I have classes to attend!”

“You didn't really care about that when you went after a gun-toting maniac.” Peter frowned.

She rolled her eyes and lay down again.

“That's not how I wanted you to meet Scott, you know.” You smiled at Peter as he dropped you off to your dorm a few days later.

“They're...nice, if a little…”

“Scary?”

“More like funny.”

“Hey, he's my alpha okay? We learned how to kill and maim before we learned calculus.”

“You'd make great friends with Black Widow, you know?”

“OH MY GOD, YOU KNOW HER?” He laughed as she poked him repeatedly, “Peter! Answer me!”

#fatimas10kchallenge #peter parker x reader #teen wolf imagine #marvel x teen wolf #crossover fic #peter parker x werewolf!reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu x teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x y/n #tw x y/n

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mtemplex · 4 years

Text

Little Baby Faulkner

# 1

My girlfriend Sashi used to hate it when film crews used her neighborhood to film. She hated it because her neighborhood was quiet—and then come all these film people noising it up, blocking roads, leaving colored tape everywhere. But mostly she hated that she was the insider, and they were the outsiders, and shooting a film was their pass to become tourist in her neighborhood, where she was a native.

Also: Sashi went to film school. And somehow that figured into her hatred of film crews.

I went to film school too. Sashi’s was in New York. Mine was in LA. She studied lighting. She liked to be on crew. I studied directing. If I never pick up another light or calculate line voltages in my head it will be too soon. I think Sashi held it against me that I liked the heady work while she preferred the grunt work. Sashi was smart enough to direct. To write. She considered it more pure to haul cord, to respond to the cinematographer bark orders. When she worked on a movie, she *preferred* not to read the script. She and her fellow crew members would go to Starbucks after filming and talk philosophy—not the casual kind that most people talk, but real philosophy, the kind that to keep up with you had to be read up on every last work by Derrida. They didn’t *want* to know anything about the movie: Their way of filmmaking was *pure*. The less they knew the better.

This story I’m about to tell you took place over one weekend in September (or maybe October). It was senior thesis week and as a director I didn’t have any interest in helping out some classmate by holding the boom microphone—which is what I liked to do when I was required to be on someone else’s set. Much for the same reasons Sashi worked lights: I could be there and not be there. Just get the mic in the right place and my brain could wander to infinite places other than *here*.

I lived right up the street from my school. Three blocks. And right between block two and block three was a restaurant with no name (as is popular in LA). It had a black door and a red carpet and I had never been inside but I had walked past it every day for a year and on Sunday and Thursday the red carpet was rolled out. If I got drunk my apartment was one block up the hill. I could walk there and see the homeless man sleeping on a couch someone had literally thrown out their window. Hollywood is like that: Lamborghinis and rich people live on the same street as homeless ones. There is no plan to help the homeless ones. They wander, move, die.

I had seen people enter the restaurant with no name. In couples or quads, guys and girls, all dressed up. And disappear behind the door into relative blackness.

Now I stand here, ready to knock—realizing what a silly gesture that is—and I’m not dressed up, instead wearing my brown cargo pants that I used to swear by as a film person (due to the extra—the third—side pocket almost to the cuff at the bottom of the pants). I’ve never seen that pocket before or since. Only on the ones sold in a surplus shop on Hollywood B.

I pull open the door, walk a few steps in. I almost leave because no one is in there. The tables are stood on top of each other like they stand when a restaurant crew closes for the night. There was a bar—no one at it, no one behind it. I look around the place:

I see a bar with nine stools. An area in the back with a stained-glass skylight. Tiles on the floor underneath that: Forming the structure of a wave, patterns never lost on me. I think about texting my film school buddy but decide I want to be alone. At the top of the Ave is the Alto Nido building, where I live. Sashi lived with me for a while. Then I threw my phone across the room, shattering it, glass everywhere. Then I kicked her out. I feel bad about it but me throwing that phone was the last in a line of incidents tracing us from Arizona to Ohio and then to LA. I have never met anyone who made me as mad as that girl.

Other than the skylight, there were no windows in this place. The ceiling was packed with cinema lighting, stage lighting. Even underneath the floor, which was glass block, a parade of colors went by as though I was standing on a river.

I went and sat at the bar, put my laptop bag on the floor, leaning against my stool. Maybe there was an underground chamber and *that’s* where everyone who comes through that door went to..some *Alice in Wonderland* in the basement or sub basement where all the kids in Hollywood (not the students, not the ones without money) would go to dance and hook up and go home and fuck and come back next Sunday or Thursday and ignore everyone they had taken home before.

“Excuse me”—that was the bartender.

I smile in a familiar way, as though we know each other.

“Is this place open?”

“We open at seven, actually.”

“Do you have a kitchen?”

“Yes,” he says deeply. “I’ll get you a menu.”

“That’s ok,” I say. “Do you have a ribeye?”

“Yes sir we do.”

“I’d like a rib eye. Extra rare. With blue cheese crumbles on top.”

“Sure thing,” he says.

“Also? Could I have serrano peppers and two eggs over easy on top of that blue cheese?”

“Sure thing? You want a drink?”

“Yes, a glass of Syrah if you have it.”

“We have it! Totally. We have it. I guess it’s ok if you sit here. There’s a party later.”

“I’ll be out of here by then,” I say (having no intention to leave).

The bartender pours me a generous glass of wine in a glass with a thin lip (important if you’re me). He goes into the kitchen.

I flip through my phone book. Almost all the way to the end. I pretend to consider each name, each number, but really I’m looking for a certain name all along: Roberts, my fuck buddy from Ohio. Don’t ask my *why* I picked Roberts. It may have had something to do with my having tried cocaine for the first time a few days ago, and something in me knew that Roberts had done it, or could help me with her sexy words. My sex with her was the best ever—she said our sex was amazing. After our second bout of soap-suds squishy sex on the floor of my apartment in Ohio, she said, “It’s not that our sex is amazing. I just always wanted to know what it was like to have sex with a genius.”

I refrained from asking her what that was like.

Now in LA, in my empty restaurant, I called her.

“Well look who it is,” she says.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“So what’s going on?”

“I’m on a coke binge and I need a break.”

“So you called me! Ha ha.”

“Have you ever done it?”

“Matt. You will not believe your synchronicity with me and my house right now! We—me and my roomie Hannah—we just got this house. To rent. And we are breaking it in with a whole weekend of coke. The whole weekend. You know what I think would be great?”

“If I fly to Dayton and participate in your coke weekend?”

Silence.

Then Roberts’ voice: “Would you?”

“Umm..”

“Oh please! *Could* you?”

“Ahh..”

“Oh my god we could do coke and have sex all weekend!”

“Ok!” I say. “Tell me about this house.”

“I will,” she says. “Hannah and I live here—the lease is in our name. My grandmom lives here. And Hannah’s boyfriend name of Rambuncto is getting out of jail on Saturday.”

“They let people out of jail on Saturday?”

“You’re my smart boy. As in: Anyone else would have asked me *What is he in for?* but you ask *Will they let him out on Saturday?*

“Well: What is he in for?”

“Assault. On a stranger in a Walmart.”

“Is he guilty? I mean: Did he do it?”

Roberts’ laugh gets two steps louder.

“I’m pretty sure he’s guilty, yeah.”

“Is he gonna be there this weekend?”

A pause from Roberts.

“Matthew, don’t worry about it. Rambuncto may talk some shit but he’s harmless.”

“Not to the person in Walmart.”

“Don’t worry about it, Matthew. You spend so much of your head worrying it’s a miracle you’re not losing brain celluloid whenever you wake up. Come over. Can you afford it? I can send you money if you can’t afford it.”

“I can afford it.”

“Ok, good. ‘Cause I can’t really afford it.”

We both laugh.

“And I have enough money for coke.”

“Ok, this is what I think we should start with: an eight ball,” Roberts says. Then we can get more eight balls when we run out. I don’t know if you remember, but I always wanted to get a Snoop doggy dog and—guess what?—I have one. Do you want me to tell you his name?”

“Hold up. Before that. Is Rambuncto—? Is Hannah—? I mean, are they ok?”

“You’ve *met* Hannah before.”

“Did she go to Colonel White?”

“She went to Stivers. She’s fine. Don’t worry! The house is cool, ok? Say *The house is cool*.”

“I just wanna—“

“SAY THE HOUSE IS COOL!!”

“Ok. It’s cool. The house is cool.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun when you get here, Matt. We’ll fuck *all weekend*. I know you like that slippy little soap suds fucking we do. Look. I gotta go.”

“Can you pick me up from the airport?”

“Guess what my dog’s name is. Just text me the details. What’s my dog’s name? Baby hurry ‘cause I gotta go.”

“I don’t know. What’s its name?”

“Faulkner.” She lays it out like carpet.

“Why did you name him that? Have you ever *read* any Faulkner?”

“I gotta go, my wayward king! Hannah says we have a dead-ish baby in the crib room.”

“Alright, girl—“ I say, but the line goes dead.

Just then the bartender returns with my steak. It is cooked extra rare. With two eggs, blue cheese, and jalapeño peppers instead of serranos. I decide to eat it anyway.

# 2

Roberts and I had a history. From the first I saw her practicing color guard with the school’s JROTC program—her face so smooth, her hair: an angels!—to the time I followed her across the gym floor during a science exploration—projects everywhere, and none more important to me—I tracked her down and we spoke and she did seem kinda dumb to me. But I liked her anyway, and over the years we’d become fuck buddies. From that time watching *The Great Gatsby* (Robert Redford version) sitting in the dark of the basement where her apartment was, her dog outside listening. And Roberts and I moved deliberately to a lying down position and kissed in the dark—and all we did was kiss—but the seed was sewn, and it wasn’t till a couple years since *The Great Gatsby* that we hooked up in my place on Second Street in Dayton Ohio (with the help of a bottle of Aftershock) that we finally took it all the way.

Fucking Roberts had become an exalted experience. Full of imagination and the fulfillment of imagination. Her puss was so red and so tight..it was unimaginable. Truly, the best sex of my life, right there. Soap suds—the works. Tight as a flower mate by a honeybee, the bee shaking his tail feathers to get in there. Before we had stood in the light of a street lamp visible five floors below..and when it turned red we stopped touching each other and when it turned green we started again.

My friend Julian was mad at me when I told him Roberts and I had fucked. He asked me to describe her vagina, which I did. Red. Redder than the purest red in a box of Crayons, a set of oil paints. Tight as a honeybee. Wet and snug and so tight she made me cum in her after five strokes, even after she asked me not to cut. We never used a condom. Kept it clear and functioning. Lord of the *Flies*. The next morning she jacked me off with two hands while she waited for her mother to pick her up. Then it was off and on, whenever one of us happened to call the other. And it never seemed off-limits, even when one of us was in relationship—it was never cheating, with us.

This is the girl I was flying from LA to Dayton to meet. This is the girl when I showed her picture to my film school buddy, he said:

“You fucked *that*?”

To which I said, “Yep.”

And that was the end of the conversation. The end of Mike’s constant pestering me about getting a girlfriend, about everything he pestered me about, right down to the bottom of why I took showers instead of baths. Right down to the end of who my Christmas present was: A girl who I woke up in my LA bed to see. A girl I fucked during film school: brown hair, lovely petite, screaming sex in her chokers and all blackness and pink panties you could see above her back. Her back hurt. She needed relief. Any way I could provide it, I was willing. Fucked that girl in the equipment room, just, like, that.

I don’t remember that film school girl’s name—believe that? I don’t remember my Christmas present’s name. She was a costume girl for Adam Sandler. And the fact that I didn’t remember her name isn’t really an act of pathological sport fucking—more an act of casualty that we all engage in. Fuck one girl, forget her name. Forget her phone number and wake up the next morning with more unknowns in your address book: “Molly, 323.818.9544”—total unknown. Don’t remember a Molly—don’t remember anyone. No one new, no one old. A real bright way of living, there.

But on that night Roberts and I decided to invite each other to spend a coke weekend at her house in Ohio..on the night I invited myself into this anonymous dance and supper club, on that night I stayed sober enough to remember two cute girls a few years older than me who danced and opened up their world to me.

“Do you wanna dance with us?”

These women were formally dressed and I with my six-pocket cargo pants they grabbed me me by the hands and took me to the place under the skylight and they freak-danced me, holding me in the envelope of light where each of them plus the skylight made a triangle of importable lust, striking jealousy in the eyes of the boys more normal to this party. Soon they picked me out as the threat, the tall nail which is inevitably hammered down, and the girls were saying goodbye and the bartenders and bouncers were telling me goodbye and the street lamp having just come on was guiding my home across the street with the intersection of the homeless man sleeping in a couch that had been thrown out the window and my school was far behind me and I let myself into the Alto Nido—it’s the building shown in the opening shot of *Sunset Boulevard*—and I took the stairs (down) and I struggled with the lock and soon was in the wood-flooring studio apartment where I had the pages of an entire screenplay (one I was writing) placed end to end across the floor.

This and some squirrel puzzles (dubbed thee by my friend Michael). They were stacked on the writing desk with a bunch of cocaine stacked next to them. I was reaching for a result and I thought coke could help. It seemed to speed up my thinking, but no result came. These were some mathematical puzzles that had been puzzling me and I didn’t know whether it was more in the problem-solving *vein* to take them to Dayton on my Roberts weekend or to leave them here and take a break.

I thought of the dead man out there on the sidewalk—he seemed dead to me. I had never used enough drugs to make myself actually *homeless*. I didn’t have sympathy for that man. This was what happened when you couldn’t control your addiction. When you lost your job and lost your wife and lost your nerve to walk into a job interview on LSD or walk into a job interview on meth and coke—if you couldn’t make that work, then you couldn’t *make it work*—period.

The idea that there were people out there who had never tried drugs was empty to me: I did not understand how that could be. My cousin divorced her husband after he 1) had back surgery 2) was prescribed opiates 3) became addicted to those opiates and 4) went to rehab to end his addiction. To me that seemed like the best-case scenario, minus the divorce. But, I mean, how in this first world of ours could anyone live for long without coming into contact with drugs. We live on them, can’t function without them. Anyone who has tried alcohol knows that if this drug was introduced today that it would be illegal. Same with cigs. The most dangerous drugs are on the street, legal to get. And a couple of the most transformative drugs are listed as the most restricted in our world. The real problem is you have people walking around with no general knowledge of drugs and their actual dangers and benefits.

I set up a line of coke, snarfed it.

I set up another line, banged it.

Mmm. Salad wenches of lines spreading before me the remnants of ecstasy flying, colliding. Rummaging in my mind tailwinds of stories I had yet to tell. Yardley dangers of Pluto, planets banging across each other to form craters, my jizz the center of the galaxy, girlfriend gone, somewhere at a Starbucks sitting out front talking with a homeless man, treating him better than she treats me (I have seen this) and her going home to some weekly hotel where she barely makes the rent, has to eat off the employee shelf—all she had to do was not wake me up at night, not engage me in impossible swirls of arguments that never end, there is never a truce, never a peace of the day, but me waking up with her kneeling over my body *yelling* at me. Never stopping. One who wants not to live together, not to love each other, but to be one end of a debate course, for us to work it all out *and for her to be right*! I could not take anymore of that.

I punched up my ticket—laptop, coke—making sure I got the flight times, origins and destinations, correct. Making sure I had the times correct. Enough room for changes to and from Dayton Ohio. I’d pack my bag tomorrow. I called Roberts.

“Hi y’all” (said in an English accent) “I hope you have been following my YouTube channel as of late where myself and my house mouse—we will call her ‘H’—move into a *fabulous* house in East Dayton. This weekend we have a guest, my old friend Matt from Colonel White. Anyway—*any who*—he’s coming for a visit. A sortie. An exportage. If you will. I” (sound of a smooch) “you, fuck boy! I smooch you I smooch you I smoooch you!!”

# 3

Listening to Roberts’ voicemail prompts were always like this: spinning in infinity, telling a tale. You could get a glimpse of her, through this medium, that gave you information you could only get in this way. If you saw her grandmother die and then asked Roberts if it saddened her, Roberts would say nothing. Then you’d listen to her voicemail and hang up before leaving a message, she would say the truth right there: she was sad.

Boarding the plane high on coke scared me. I had done a lot of coke before taking a cab to the airport, and I spent the whole ride there wiping down the corners of my bag, licking clean my normal coke holder and burying it in the bottom of my clothes. LAX is a trip within itself, messages of the white zone and the orange zone. I passed through the white zone thinking of all the white I had done, hoping those drug-sensing chemicals wouldn’t expose me—all to everyone. I took off my shoes and put my laptop in its own bin and walked through that fucking machine with the facial expression of the Dalai Lama and the shluffing feet of a would-be LA party goer—I would be a party goer except after that first impression I came across like a kid just broke into a candy store. I had the all the nerve but none of the money: real LA party people had rich parents and bottomless trusts and multiple parts in small movies.

They were the chosen ones. I was the nothing one.

I got through security. Got through the boarding process. Sat with my carry-on beneath my seat, leaned my head against a window, and I’m sure snored all the way through the flight.

During my sleep, I dreamt I was on a bicycle touring a school that was close to. There were a hundred black people in a small gymnasium watching a basketball game that was in cable—only—not on regular TV. I ride through that room and back outside, nodding to a guy who is riding *his* bike and he has crystal meth on him and while my nod means nothing to me, it means that I want some crystal, to him. Soon enough I’m riding my bike, high on crystal, around this park and some people hold a phone out to me:

“This is Paula Abdul. She wants to talk to you.”

I stop my bike and talk on speakerphone.

“Hey Paula!”

“Hey, my bro. How are you doing over there? Where is *over there* for you, anyway?”

“Over there? I think I’m in a poor neighborhood, traveling like a flashlight across the country by air, and my shadow casts a spot over poor neighborhoods across the country. Whatever the plane’s shadow touches, I am there. We’re somewhere in the Midwest now. That’s all I know.”

Paula Abdul continued the dream:

“Look there on your TV. There I am—see? Now tell me what to do.”

I looked at the TV in front of these hundred poor kids here to watch the game. It was an old-fashioned one, SONY, with no inputs but for one—the antennae—and skipping past the part where I wondered how they could see *anything*, I told Paula Abdul to make a heart shape with her hands and fingers and as soon as I said that, she did it!

Paula Abdul, right there on TV—right there for me.

I rode out of the gym and saw the meth guy again and I remembered (in the dream) something that seemed at the time to be a remembrance of another meth experience but which seemed at the time to be a remembrance of *another dream*, or a remembrance of dream—just created!—a memory of a memory, the second memory created *at the time!* to *seem* like a waking-life memory *of* another dream—I don’t know how I seem to you but this tangle tripped me solidly upon waking and it was a few minutes more before I took this dream within a dream to consist of another waking-life dream accessed by myself from within this secondary dream. It’s confusing, I know.

Somewhere in there was a stop to change planes. I stooped around this large airport sitting in a circular intersection of hallways, desperately checking that my carry on was beside me.

I sat down, removed my laptop. It had some of the snail puzzles on it—plus the code to generate them. I tapped this way and tapped thus, there was nowhere else to go with them. I had spent a lifetime (it seemed) in Tucson in front of a white board deducing what originally seemed a system of *two* states and *two* rules to what seemed now to be a system of *four* states with two rules. I could generate, with my new set of pieces, the table of 16 binary Boolean operators just by *copying* them with your hands, with visual pattern matching (and that’s what made this second rule set superior) but I could not generate the actual snail puzzles from them.

This concerned me as I sat alone in—which airport I can’t remember—working out the pattern matching, the visual copying of four rules which allowed *computation* to be known as simple creation and unfolding of patterns. They didn’t even have to be visual!—They could be calculated by a blind person—Even a person with no senses could *sense* this, deep in their brain, I had determined.

That and nervously picking at my coke pill: silver with a keychain and a screw-tight lid. I had carried it with me since I first started doing coke. It came from Amazon. In the airport I unscrewed it and tried tapping its (hopefully non-empty) contents onto my laptop cover. You’ve never lived until you’ve done coke off your MacBook. I was hoping to do some here but the silver pill box had nothing to offer. If you could somehow get your coke over the security points, doing coke in airports would be ideal: it would be a safe environment, no one would imagine you had coke on you and you could tap out lines in clear sight of everyone and they would go: *What? Is that what I just saw?* and they would say *Naw* and keep going.

I had a dangerously long layover—one could say a dangerous hangover—during which I could easily have exited the airport and ended up in Nashville, or Atlanta, or whatever city I was in. I could have easily met up with party people in an airport bar and from there gone off on some other adventure, something far more dastardly than the one I was on. Filled up my coke reserves and re-filled my silver pill box.

On the second leg of the flight I wasn’t fortunate enough to have a window seat. I was in the aisle and this meant there were duplicate waitresses-cum-stewardesses rubbing on my super-sensitive sides. Everyone seemed like they were on coke and everyone seemed like they could sell it to me.

I had a panicky moment wherein I doubted my entire goal: sleeping with Roberts was doubtable, unlikely: she had gained weight and had a child before our last meeting and I had been telling myself this time would be different: she would have lost weight (at least to her high school level) and the child wouldn’t be with her (that was a London baby that Roberts and her boyfriend had given to adoption)—when she had that baby and given her up, Roberts had suckered me into listening to her whole sob story, how they named her London and they *insisted* to the adopting couple that they keep her name and the adopting couple said *Sure, sure* and they obviously were going to change the baby’s name—*obviously*.

Roberts told me that story while I was pinned to the bar stool in a Dayton Thai place. Roberts always did that: kept you on the phone too long, long past when *anyone* would insist the conversation must end! She did it to everyone—I was one of the only people who would still talk to her (listen to her) and so my punishment grew. From a virgin boy who wanted to have sex with her to an experienced man who had sex with her and a lot of people, Roberts was always wasting my time. Always making a two-minute conversation into a ten-minute one. Always driving me crazy with superfluous monologues, over-emphasizing small points which Roberts claimed were big ones!

Years after this trip, several moves from city to city for me, Roberts found my number on Facebook and called it. I was on my last few minutes of cell time and that wasn’t even a factory when I finally said to her, “Stop. Roberts, stop. You always call me and dangle all this bullshit in front of my face, how your kids are doing and how this new man in your life is finally the perfect one..but then there is this unmatched thread where you introduce that he’s a wife beater or a drug addict or a crazy Christian. And you never get to it! You’re dragging me on for years with a story that could be told in a minute! Just stop, Roberts—please, stop. This is the last time we talk together. I have seen you for the last time. Don’t find me on Facebook. Don’t call this number—in a minute it will change. I love you—in a way. Were a high school thing. That turned into a fuck buddy thing. I had fun and I truly like you and I will always remember you well. You blew my mind—truly. And I appreciate that Dallas and Caycee have me as their godfather. That was nice if you—more than nice. But I’m not your children’s godfather. I’ll never see them. I’ll never see them, Roberts, as few or many years as you and I and they will pass. I will never see you, Roberts—never again.”

# 4

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regrettablewritings · 6 years

Note

Steve TrevorxReader for the ship meme thingy?

I hope modern!Steve is okay; I didn’t really have the time or focus to make a period-accurate WWI-era setting. But thank you for your patience!

How differently do they think of eachother now compared to when they first met?: To be honest, your first impressions of one another were highly superficial:You thought he was hot, he thought you were cute, and both of you wereembarrassed to be seen in the states of dress and undress that you happened tobe in. To be fair, Steve also just so happened to be moving into the apartmentacross the hall from you on one scorcher of a day, so needless to say yourrespective states of dress were as minimal as possible while still covering up just enough to be decent. At least, youhad when you first laid eyes on him. Up until that point, you’d been strollingaround your apartment, dressed down to your skivvies with the A/C blasting. Youwere quite content to stay that way had it not been for the ruckus. The soundof thudding and muffled yelps from outside your dwelling area drove you tothrow on a baggy t-shirt that ended just above your knees, the heat boilingyour mind just a degree past sensibility.By the time you’d opened the door, you were hearing utterances of “just callDiana” and, “Diana’s in Paris for another nine days!”, with a snide remark of,“Can’t you just sleep on this sofa for nine days, then?” Then came theexpletives, some of which you couldn’t even identify yet seemed to have vaguetraces of French in them.

But by the time you made your presence known, it had all quieted down.Mainly because all four sources of the noise became focused on you. And it wascertainly quite the crew once you got a good look at them: All were men, allwere from varying backgrounds and ages, and all appeared to be struggling withgetting a couch un-wedged from its place in the threshold of the previouslyvacant apartment. But the one you couldn’t help but set your eyes on the mostwas the one who appeared to be the youngest of the outfit. Handsome; awell-built physique visible through the sweat-drenched undershirt he wassporting; his brown hair pressed against his forehead with perspiration …And blue eyes that shot right into you and were probably the main reason whyyou’d been caught staring in the first place. You could feel your face burningin a new kind of way: Not like how they had been due to the heat from before,but something much more innate. Like the source was born inside of you nomatter how long you looked into those icy, blue optics.

They were just cold enough to cool your mind off, your senses resurfacing asyou realized that not only was what you were doing probably considered gawkingat this point, but the blue-eyed fellow, as well, might’ve been gawking rightback. And with good reason: With your shirt hanging low off one shoulder andthe rest of it just barely reaching your knees, you may not have been the mostindecent thing but you were certainly a welcome sight for four souls dying inthe heat. And one of them (whom you’d later know as Sameer) wasn’t afraid tohint that at you.

“Sorry to cause you such a fuss,” he grinned, poising an elbow atop the sofaas though he hadn’t just been cussing up a storm over it moments before. Theman next to him – the tallest and appearing to be of Native descent – rolledhis eyes. The flirter went on, “Once we get this guy” – he nodded at the brunet– “all settled in, I hope we could make this all up to you by … maybeholding a get-together? Some champagne from France, I could use my connectionsto get us some nice cheeses, and maybe –”

“Don’t use my place as your love pad,” the brunet hisses under his breath.He turned his eyes away but that did nothing to stop the red from splotchinghis face. Logic would dictate it as a result of the heat, but it hadn’t been that rouge before. You’d barely managedto utter an embarrassed apology/goodbye before you awkwardly shuffled back intoyour apartment. Deep down you wished that that would be the end of it, thatmaybe the brunet would turn out to be one of those neighbors who was barelyever home either because of work or because of a rich social life.

But deep down, you also knew that this wasn’t going to be the case. And yougot that confirmation about two days later when he appeared at your door,sheepishly offering you a package of “apology biscotti.”

“I, um, yeah, the other day was not thebest way to introduce one’s self to their new neighbors, soooo … yeah,” heattempted to explain.

“… You dorealizethat I’m supposed to be the one giving you a gift, right? Housewarming and all.”The urge to smack yourself in the face for coming up with that response was strong. Thankfully,the brunet took the response in stride.

“Well, yeah,”he admitted. “But considering you caught me and my goofball friends kinda beingungentlemanly, I thought it’d just be more appropriate if I made it up to youfirst. You know, spare you the jello mold.”

This was themoment you began to get a better idea of the man (whom you then learned wasnamed Steve Trevor). Sure, he was hot, but he also appeared to have a sense ofmorality in a way. A principle to live by. And he proceeded to live by it bynot only accepting your later gift of “housewarming meat loaf”, but alsoinviting you in to share it. By the end of the first month of the two of youknowing one another, you thought of him as a very pleasant and rare case of agood neighbor. It actually took his friend, the friend group-famous DianaPrince, to step into the picture and insist to you that he wasn’t secretly ahomicidal maniac. (She had one of the most honest faces you had ever seen, youhad no choice but to trust her.) But thankfully, with backing from his friends (whom you quickly learned weren’tnearly as discomforting as you’d initially assumed), you got the hang of hischaracter: He was pretty kind and a bit hard-headed, but his heart was alwaysin the right place. The makings of a hero you’d normally only read about, they wouldsay. By the time the two of you had been in the tenth month of yourrelationship, you knew that up close and personal. He barely changed from howhe’d been as a neighbor and friend, but he certainly upped the ante in terms ofromance and protectiveness. After all, Steve had a tendency to make his mostbasic self known upfront.

Meanwhile,you weren’t quite as clear but he didn’t mind one bit: He found you to be enjoyablethrough and through. He couldn’t blame you for coming off as bashful the firsttime you’d met, given the circumstances, but he was quite surprised to see youhad some snark in you after the second meeting. Throughout the time he’s knownyou up to the present day where the two of you are a thing, he’s only everknown you as a hard-working woman who knows herself and her surroundings wellenough to determine what she wants and will work to get it. And that’s justgranted you more and more respect from him.

(Of course,the both of you can’t help but appreciate the closer proximity of your bodiesthat this relationship of yours has allowed through the passage of time, butthat’s another story.)

What do their friends/family think oftheir relationship?: “So, you moved in on her before I could, huh?” Sameer teased. Of course, hemeant nothing by it really. He, like Steve’s other friends, were more amused bythe relationship than anything. After all, they hadn’t quite expected for theirbuddy to get with the chick they saw barely dressed their first day at theplace. But that’s not going to stop them from assuming positions in your lifewith Sameer reminding you that “he’s ready and waiting in the wings if Stevedisappoints as a boyfriend” and Charlie and Chief both making it clear to Stevethat if he fucks this up somehow, it won’t be pretty. (“We dinna raise ya li’ that,Stevie!” Charlie would warn.) But of them all, the one who takes the news mostseriously is Diana.

She’s his best friend, after all, and she’s more than ecstatic when hereveals that the two of you are dating (though she also lets you know that ifhe gives you any trouble, she’ll knock his block off). She enjoys slipping thetwo of you date ideas and is honestly your guys’ go-to when the other three aregetting out of hand. She wants to see her friend happy and will do whatever shecan in support of this relationship being happy and healthy for the both ofyou.

Your friends and family are, in a word, amazed. Specifically, at the factthat Steve is, compared to way too much of the human population, nearlyperfect. Sure, he has some flaws here and there, but then again he’s also veryhandsome, very kind, very sweet, very brave, very smart, very dedicated, andvery much into you. When your loved ones learn that he once served in themilitary, some begin to joke that you mean he was grown in a military lab as aperfect boyfriend/distraction rather than serving as a pilot.

All in all, everyone’s supportive of your union on both sides of the couple.

How do their personalities/skillscomplement or contrast with each other?: The two of you both have traits of yours wherein you’re comfortable in takingcharge of certain situations. Of course, Steve’s is the result of years ofmilitary service, but you ain’t no slouch either. You both seek to turn outideal results in whatever the two of you may do and, in that way, you’re a bitof a power couple. However, Steve is also a bit more grounded (ironic,considering his occupation). You’re definitely more of an idealist, given thatSteve’s time away has forced him to witness some pretty gruesome stuff orthings that have given way to more jaded thoughts. The result here is thatwhile you’re a comparative idealist, Steve is a cynic. He is capable of stillbelieving that there is good in the world, but he’s not going to act as thoughit’s anything short of complex.

What is their favorite aspect of eachother?: You love how brave Steve is – and not just in the way that means he’ll kill thespiders. When you’d first been told stories about Steve’s antics as a pilot,you’d felt as though you were hearing a radio drama of sorts, hearing all typesof daring do and then glancing at the very subject of the story sipping aFrappuchino and taking a bite out of a cookie. Most starting to you, though,was the fact that usually they were things he was clearly terrified of doing.There were plenty of servicemen and women who would lie through their teethabout how they’d felt while on duty and even though Steve, with his boyishlooks, appeared to be one of them, he wasn’t nearly so much.

Sure he could pretend to be brave in a moment that required it but, if askedabout it later, he wasn’t going to put up the energy to go and lie about it.And you appreciated that about him: True courage was being scared but doingwhat was right anyway. That was whatmade him a hero to you, not spy missions and infiltrations.

Steve, in spite of his gusto and apparent inherency to take command, enjoysit when a woman knows herself and what she wants and will take the steps to getit. Headstrong may be a bit of a harder word to use, but that’s not far fromthe truth, actually. Maybe it’s a little weird, but he finds it kind of sexy tosee a light go off in your head, followed by you hunkering down on a project ortask with a specific goal of some kind set up in your mind. You both are sortof like a power couple in that way: You take charge in different ways and caneven be a guide for one another if need be. But watch out because …

Do either of them have pet peevesabout each other?: Interestingly, the both of you seem to find about the same thing to be oneanother’s pet peeve: The other’s sense of stubbornness. While Steve’sdedication towards whatever cause he sets his sights on can be endearing, itall too easily drifts into martyrdom/hero syndrome if left unchecked. Apparently,he’s always been this way since he was a child, always stepping in to defendthose weaker than him but upon reaching adulthood, it’s developed into a mix ofthat plus him sticking his nose where it needn’t even go. According to hisfriends, back when they were all on tour, Steve had performed way too manyoccurrences where he’d nearly become a victim of a suicide mission. Sincereverting back to civilian life, it’s not nearly as hectic. But still, youcan’t say you enjoyed starting off date night at a tavern only to end it in thehospital because Steve decided that warning your gawker wasn’t enough and heneeded to break his fist on the guy’s face in a parking lot fight.

While your form of stubbornness doesn’t take you towards the cusp of deathor physical injury nearly as much, it still manages to exhaust Steve after acertain point. Look: He loves thatyou know what you want and use hard work to get it. He even sometimes admiresyour idealism from time to time, given that it empowers you to a degree. Butsometimes you set your mind to situations that are far more complex than whatyou make them out to be and go head-on with a plan that just barely covers thesurface. He’s seen you work yourself to physical and mental exhaustion to getpromotions you knew deep down weren’t going to get passed to you because ofyour bumfuck employers, or to complete tasks that just weren’t going to be donemuch less to the degree you wanted them to be. In those moments, he tries very hard to reel you back in and console you andmake you rest so that you can think clearly about the circumstances. But thatdoesn’t always work, much less not earn him your ire. And sometimes, thoseattempts to console are him just barely off the cusp of hollering at you tocome back to earth and recognize what’s going on. It’s … not pretty to comeback to reality, let alone to your boyfriend being upset with you. Likewise,when you try to do the same to him after he’s put his ass on a line that didn’tcall for it, tensions can run just as high.

How would each reconcile with eachother after a fight?:Steve was raised by old-fashioned parents. That would probably explain whymost of his methods of reconciliation are more reminiscent of an older era. Hisfather taught him that “if Momma’s not happy, nobody’s happy”, and while you certainly aren’t a momma yet (God bewilling), the principle of the matter still apparently stood with you as hisgirlfriend. Probably because so much of his own social circle was fond of youto the point of being more than willing to throttle him whether he was theactual source of the argument or not. The first time the two of you had a bigargument, it was Diana who stepped in and had to push the two of you togetherto reach an understanding and apologies. All people involved (and watching fromthe sidelines) agreed that it wasn’t exactly an ideal method, so she had tojust trust that Steve would do a better job in the future. And indeed, he did.This is where that “All-American Boy” persona of his comes into play, utilizinga bouquet of your favorite flowers, coupled with chocolates flown in fromFrance (he has connections [read: Sameer]), and a night on the town in abrand-new outfit that he had to lurk on your Pinterest to get the basic feelof.

Of course, date night’s going to be all about you, so that means you get todecide what actually happens. You wanna go see that cheesy chick-flick? He’sdown for it. You wanna go to that upscale restaurant because “you can’t livelike you’re still only allowed to ration food, Steve”? He’ll make it happen.You wanna just stay home and cuddle and talk or have him massage your achingfeet? Hell to the yes. Heck, he may even try to cook you something if you’dlike to take that risk but be warned: This man spent just enough years with themilitary to be used to rationing and eating crummy food. Don’t mistaken hisability to make something out of very little for competence: The only one whocan do that well is Chief.

However, food is a great way to this man’s stomach and the best part? He’lleat nearly anything, given how that’s what he’s been trained to be able to do. Granted,he might’ve already been like that by nature. Anyway, you make note of thiswhen you try apologizing to him and it has served you well since. Of course,there’s more to it than just that but it’s a decent place to start. Steve issurprisingly in tune with his emotions and isn’t afraid of his feelings, sotalking things through really is a great way to go in the end. Be real withhim, but also be sensible about it. Don’t just bulrush into the conversation,that’s how you guys got into this mess in the first place. But also don’t betoo afraid to tell him how the situation makes you feel. Remind him that he’ssupposed to be back in civilian mode: He doesn’t have to keep jumping intoaction and throwing himself between you and a fist or something and be the heroof everything. Nobody’s expecting that of him, not anymore.

“You’ve done enough hero-ing,” you once said. “I’m already impressed. I justneed you to be my boyfriend ow. Okay?”

He understands. The apple pie a la mode was a pretty sweet closer anyway.

What would be their ideal vacationgetaway together?: His job’s taken him around the world, so it’d be easy to assume that he’d beindifferent to going anywhere. But considering that, for the most part, thosejourneys had mostly been work related, Steve’s never truly had the chance toconsume the realms to their fullest enjoyability. So actually, he has quite alist of places he wants to go, starting with a cross-country roadtrip. The oldboy floats on a cloud that romanticizes the idea of the two of you packing uphis car with snacks and clothes and junk and his guitar, and driving from onecoast to the other. You would only stop at the greasiest of food stops, sleepin either the car or a motel (whichever was cleanest), and just take in thesights and odd roadside stops from the Beagle B&B in Idaho to the EnchantedHighway of North Dakota and beyond. All the while singing along to the radioand driving each other nuts with car games and just talking and bonding throughthe shared experience of dwindling sanity.

Aaaahhh … Simply the life.

Of course, if you want something a bit more practical, there’s alwaysGreece. Diana had hyped up her homeland to such a degree that of course Steve’scuriosity was stoked. He really wants nothing more than to whisk you away on aromantic vacation to an island or a city by the sea and wander the streets,hand in hand, basking in the culture and touring museums and, of course, gorgingyourselves on the local cuisine. It’s a pretty stark contrast to the, ahem, homely ways of the cross-countryroadtrip but it nevertheless sounds beautiful just through him talking about it. Just keep your witsabout you come your next birthday, that’s all I’m saying.

Think of a new way (AU, differentsituation, etc.) they could have met for the first time:You bit a curse back as you shuffled through the snow. Frankly, this wasn’tan ideal situation: After a long shift, rather than settling in for a warm,cozy evening, you were headed to the house of somebody you didn’t know, bearinga gift for an unknown recipient.

“It’s just a small get-together with some friends of mine from when I waswith the military,” she explained a few days ago. “I think it’d be great if youcame!” God knows you did not really want to attend all that much. But God alsoknew that Diana was painfully hard to say no to once she flashed that smile ofhers. Plus, she was like a human lie detector: Any excuse you’d make wouldsurely come into light just by the sound of your voice, no matter how rehearsedthe line.

Though when you knocked on the door and were greeted by a red-faced manbellowing cheerfully in a thick Scottish accent, you began to wonder whichwould be worse: Possibly disappointing Diana by failing to be her plus-one, orenduring the loudness that was flowing from inside the house.

… Definitely disappointing Diana.

As you awkwardly stumbled through the threshold, your fate was sealed.Immediately, your senses were filled with the sounds of Christmas musicrumbling through some speakers and people both drunk and sober attempting tochat right over it. A small table with a red plastic cover hosted simple partysnacks of chips and pretzels and Christmas cookies and a box of pizza (of whichstood on three other boxes that you had a suspicion where empty at this point),a small cooler by his leg revealing cans of beer and soda like a treasurechest. It wasn’t the energy-restoring manna you’d been hoping for, but it wouldhave to do. But first, you had to take care of the present. It was a godsendfor you to have your sights land on Diana, whom was sitting on a small couchand chatting avidly with someone sitting beside her. You took no notice of them:You just needed to do one thing and one thing only.

“Diana,” you sighed as you neared her.

To your surprise, she actually managed to hear you. At the sound of her namebeing called, the brunette stopped talking to glance up at you, her facelighting with joy.

“You made it!” she exclaimed, pleased. You tried to offer a weak smile butcouldn’t find the ability to do so completely. You lifted the present into herview.

“So what do I, um – ?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she insisted. “We’ll be starting soon; you may as wellkeep it on your person. Anyway …” Your brows furrowed in the suddendiversion away from the original discussion topic. She posed a hand in anintroductory manner to her side and your eyes followed. They led to her speakingpartner, the one whom you had paid no mind to before. But after taking note ofhim, you sort of which that you had.

He was quite handsome, almost boyish in a sense. So much so, in fact, thathe actually managed to make his ugly Christmas sweater look decent – and youwere pretty sure he hot glued that rhinestone reindeer and snowman portraitinto place! While his eyes were an almost icy blue, though, they didn’t comeoff as cold at all: In fact, they were warm and clear and rather focused.Specifically on you. Shit, weren’t you supposed to say something?

“Oh, uh …” Smooth.

“(Y/N), this is Steve. We’re friends from way back, but he just now decided to move here and join therest of us ‘civilians,’” Diana teased, playfully smacking the man on hisshoulder. You’d known Diana long enough to know that the woman sometimes didn’tknow her own strength. The average person would’ve ached in pain after even themost lighthearted smack of her hand. And yet, to your innate shock and awe,Steve did not appear to be bothered whatsoever. In fact, he merely returned thesmile (no trace of pain-induced teeth-gritting, no hiss of pain)!

“I told you, I was busy!” Steveinsisted. His blue eyes glittered (and your heart might’ve fluttered). “Theywouldn’t just let me leave, I was – ”

“A valuable asset, I know, I know,” Diana groaned with a roll of her eyes. Shelanded them back on you. “Such the hotshot. But you should hear about thethings he did, it will ruin that entire image for you.”

You could feel your eyes widen at the prospect (or maybe it was becauseSteve was now smiling at you). Whatever the case, you weren’t going to take anychances. You were on a singular mission and you refused to be compromised, nomatter how pleasing to the eye youropponent’s distraction for you was. In fact, just to assure that you would notfall prey to the pretty boy, you gently requested that Diana follow you to asomewhat quieter corner. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but at least thereyou didn’t have to worry about Steve distracting you with his boyish goodlooks.

“What’s the matter?” Diana asked. Her brows furrowed with concern. “Ithought you’d like to hear some of his stories; you always seemed keen to hearmine …”

“Look,” you sighed, “I think I’m gonna make off with some of the snacks andthen do an Irish goodbye.”

“You just got here! Besides, you can’t do a white elephant with only fivepeople; you need at least six for a proper exchange.”

You bit your lip. She had a point but you couldn’t just give up. Not yet, atleast. “Yeah but I get the feeling that maybe I don’t … I dunno. These are your friends.” At this, Diana’s facerelaxed. A confident smile spread along her features.

“And they can be yours, too, just as easily,” she proclaimed. Somehow youdoubted that.

Mainly because, at that moment, you heard a Moroccan accent belt from thekitchen, “Who wants to hear me sing ‘Santa, Baby’?!”, followed by the sound ofglass shattering and the Scottish accent from before screeching about “the goodwhiskey going to waste.” At this, Diana’s smile flicked for only a moment.

“With … some moments of sobriety, of course,” she admitted. Your browsraised high, but your lids stooped low. You were the very essence ofunconvinced and Diana knew it. She clicked her tongue in thought. “How aboutthis,” she started. “If you stay for just oneof Steve’s stories, you can go.”

“Holding me hostage, Ms. Prince?” you snarked. Unfortunately, the effectwasn’t as promising as you’d pitifully hoped for. You should’ve known that noamount of sarcasm or lampshading could hold its own against Diana’s charming expressionof hope. As gentle as it was, it still packed a punch. Just enough for you torelease a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” you rasped, your body even beginning to slouch in composure. “Irevoke my perfectly cunning plan in turn to keep you company – in a house whereyou already know everybody.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sourpouss,” Diana said in spite of her grin. It was atalent of hers to flash a type of smile that would instantly infect anotherinto returning it right back. Try as you might, you were not yet immune tothis. Dammit. So much for avoiding being compromised.

Well, you tried to think as thetwo of you began to return back to the couch, at least I’ll get to listen to a hot guy talk.

“Alrigh’, everybody!” Charlie bellowed. “Time for the whi’ elephant!”

Shit. You were doubly compromised.

++++++++++++

This probably wasn’t going to end too well. To be fair, white elephants wereless about gaining and more about the entertainment that surrounded the giving.But as you took in all those who were involved, you weren’t entirely sure ifthe gifts being given were going to be safe. The first hint of this had beenwhen the one called Sameer, a chatty and rather flirtatious fellow, opened thefirst box and pulled out a nightlight cover in the shape of a very famous leg. The leg lamp from A Christmas Story in all its tacky, tiny glory. Charlie from beforebeamed proudly, cueing it in that this was his contribution to the festivity. Diana,on the other hand, seemed to fit in just fine: She laughed right along witheveryone else when she unwrapped a misshapen package to reveal a bowie knife ofall things.

If you ever needed a blatant reminder that you were surrounded by veteranswho’d seen so much that very little fazed them, then that was it.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, marveling the blade. She began to chuckle. “Chief,was this you?” The tallest of the bunch attempted to appear mysterious only fora smile to break and give himself away.

Great, you mentally groaned. I run a 50/50 chance at getting eithersomething from a Cracker Barrel sale, or an actual weapon that may or may nothave already been used on someone.

You apparently didn’t look unnerved by the prospect, however, given that oneof the partygoers then turned to you and told you it was your turn. You glancedat what gifts remained in the small pile and selected a package wrapped in thevague shape of a rectangle. It soothed you somewhat to find that whatever wasinside was quite plush, but then again you had no idea what could’ve beeninside.

Oh, god. Your mind began to raceas you peeled away at the wrapping paper. Whatif it’s something soft but contaminated? What if one of these guys snuck somethingout of a government lab and now they’re trying to hide it amongst civilians? Thathappened, right? That was a thing. Who’s the say it wasn’t – What if it was Steve, who had only just “becomea civilian” again?! This was a cover, this was a setup, this was –

“T-shirts?” Chief grunted. “Who brought that?” Indeed, there in your lapamongst the paper debris, was an eight-pack of plain Hanes t-shirts. The typethat was always on sale at Walmart. And yet, due to your overactiveimagination, it was magnificent. You were prepared to relax in the gift’smediocrity when a ruckus of laughter began to start up again.

“Oh. Oh, wow,” you heard a voicemurmur. You looked up. It was Steve, post-unraveling his own selection. Helifted his hand to reveal straps, dark red and dangling with lacy trim. Agarter belt. A wheeze followed by a sound barrier-shattering cackle eruptedfrom Charlie. The man bent over in laughter, and the others weren’t too farbehind either. Sameer and Chief had all but collapsed on top one another whileDiana just barely attempted to hide her own giggling behind her hand. Sheplaced her free one on Steve’s shoulder as if you console him, though shecouldn’t offer any words straight. Not for the moment, at least.

“Who brought that?!” cried Chiefonce more, his voice ablaze with amusement and bewilderment. While he never gotan answer amongst the chorus of laughter, he didn’t appear to be disappointed.If anything, he was just as amused as everybody else was. Everybody else, thatis, except for Steve and yourself. For his part, while he didn’t look upset oranything, Steve at the very least responded to the lingerie pieces with bafflement.At least, that was what you thought you were detecting. Of course, he had awobbling smile in place but what else could he do?

As for you, a sense of secondhand embarrassment was threatening to bubble upto the surface. You weren’t certain as to why, given that Steve himself didn’tappear particularly troubled. You didn’t even know the guy; pretty or not, whyshould you feel intense enough to conjure up even pity? Perhaps it was becauseyou were more tenderhearted than you enjoyed letting in on. Or perhaps it hadto do with the fact that, as you observed even longer, you noticed his cheekspinken. Or maybe you just wanted the game to move on already. Whatever thecase, it wasn’t long before something within you snapped.

“Trade you,” you blurted. The laughing trickled into silence as Diana,Chief, Charlie, and Sameer watched you hold out the pack of t-shirts. Steveblinked rapidly.

“Sorry?” he coughed.

“I said I would trade you,” you repeated. You nudged the pack even closer tohim, praying that he would take the hint and end this already. But he didn’t;at least, not immediately. He seemed to be stuck on a buffering mode, in fact,with the only things moving being his eyes… . Of which seemed to drift downon you, down and down to meet your legs –

“Naughty, naughty, Steven!” Sameer chided with a hiccup. “When a young ladyoffers to relieve you of a problem, you don’t just gawk!” Immediately Stevetensed, eyes snapping back up to your face.

“Shut up, Sam,” he hissed. He madequick work of the swap but that didn’t seem to do much for the taunts aimed athim by his friends. Well, most of them. Because while Sameer, Chief, and Charliebecame sidetrack with calling Steve “a feisty young man” and having “needing tolearn how to be a gentleman”, Diana remained focused on you. She had a look inher eye, a mischievous glint she only seemed to have whenever she was connectingthings. Plotting. You knew that look all too well at this point: You were, mostoften, the victim of these schemes. As much as you wanted to snap at her to justfess up to you whatever she was planning, you were just too exhausted for this.You glanced down at your newly acquired gift and wondered what possessed you totake them on so boldly, much less in front of four men.

You sincerely hoped that Diana’s expectation that you become friends withthe group wasn’t set in stone because after this, you knew you were going to beknown as Garter Belt Girl. And, inevitably, at least one of them was going toimagine whether or not you had even worn them.

Steve, by the looks of it. Thethought made your heart flicker, remembering the way he’d been right beforeswapping your gifts. You didn’t stop your eyes from trailing up in spite ofwhat your innermost worries had screamed. You saw blue. And this time, theywere staring right back at you. Against your better judgement (and throbbingheart), you didn’t look away immediately.

+++++++++++++

Surviving the white elephant gift exchange had been about as lively assurviving an encounter with an actual white elephant. It had taken longer thanwhat such a small group should have, given the constant drunken laugh breaksand a small, playful argument between Sameer and Charlie about whether a large,sparkling glitter bathbomb was within the price range. However, you had done yourpart: You had survived the ordeal and gotten a nice garter belt out of it, theuse of which you were still questioning. And now it was time to take your tiredbutt home –

“Uh-uh,” Diana hummed. You felt her hand land on your shoulder just as youcame a few steps short of the front door. Crud. So much for the Irish goodbyeyou’d been hoping to use. “You still have one thing left.”

You probably looked like a toddler as you poutily turned around to face her.

“Diana – ” you started.

“Just trust me,” Diana insisted. She leaned in close to your ear, “I have agood feeling about this.” You wanted to doubt that. But as she led you back tothe couch and gently ushered you down, you found yourself unable to think specificallyof that: All you could think about was the man also seated on the furniture. Youwere quite surprised to find that Steve was still awake; Charlie had passed outnot too long ago, Sameer was following suit, and judging by the soft clatteringin the kitchen, it was safe to assume that Chief was taking it upon himself totidy up a bit. But Steve? Awake and alert. And, judging by the hint of smirk onhis lips, quite pleased to have you join him.

“Thanks for saving my ass back there,” he greeted. You gulped and nodded.

“N-no problem.” You couldn’t see her from your position but if you could,you would have seen the expression of accomplishment present on Diana’s face.

“Nah, really, I know these guys: If I’d kept them, I’d never hear the end ofit,” insisted Steve. To that, you could only shrug.

“I dunno about that … I’ve only known these guys since I got here, and Iget the feeling they’ll still neverlet you hear the end of it.” You paused. “Provided they even remember thisafter the hangover.” His response was a small yet genuine-sounding chuckle.

“You’re catching on quick,” the brunet declared. “But seriously, I owe youone. And, according to Diana” – he nodded at her – “it has to be the TransylvaniaIncident. That way you can have an actual laugh at me with no expense.”

Frankly, this normally wasn’t an ideal situation: After a long shift, ratherthan settling in for a warm, cozy evening, you had headed to the house ofsomebody you still didn’t entirely know and had become the recipient of asomewhat intimate gift. And yet, as you took in the features of this Steve guy,you didn’t mind. Not as much. And you told him that with a simple nod of agreement.

“Great!” Steve exclaimed. “So some keywords here are ‘paint grenades’, ‘popsiclesticks’, and ‘bee allergies’ – ”

+++++++++++

You never noticed when Diana left the two of you to carry on the storyexchange. In fact, you’d become so engrossed in story after story – from Steveand from yourself – that you didn’t even seem to notice that it was pastmidnight until you happened to glance at your phone. A flustered amount ofapologies and goodbyes and “We should do this again sometime” were exchangedbefore you both went your separate ways. And although a piece of hope dwelledwithin you that such a suggestion would get carried out in the near future, youweren’t going to cling to it.

A mere two days later, you had a brunch date with Diana. It was somethingthe two of you did often enough, so you had no reason to suspect anything outof the ordinary – which was why you were caught off guard to find one Steve R.Trevor present at a table set for two.

“Lemme guess,” he murmured, pulling out his phone, “she called you forbrunch, then told you she’d be late but to order without her?”

“… I’m sorry, what?” youquestioned before scrambling to retrieve your own phone. Sure enough, a messageilluminated the screen:

Lookslike I’ll be late. Be a dear and enjoy yourself 😉

It took everything in you not to heave a sigh of defeat. Well, you’d alreadycome out all this way. And though you’d never admit it to her face, this wasn’ta compromise you minded. Not that you needed to ever confess that to her: Thatlady was a human lie detector for one thing; and for another, this was exactlywhat she’d intended from the start.

#i actually got motivated to write but at what cost #i started off strong but...then i felt like it was balloons full o'ground beef hitting a window near the end #oh well...#i think i just wanted to get something out just in case #hope it was passable....#steve trevor x reader #steve trevor imagine #steve trevor imagines #wonder woman imagine #wonder woman imagines #regrettablewritings #ship meme #character ship meme

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inyournightmares97 · 6 years

Text

FriendswithBenefits!au Jaebum

“You’re a doctor, so you must not have a boyfriend. You’re too busy.”

You sighed as you watched the handsome soldier attempt to flirt with the pretty female doctor on your tiny laptop screen. The drama was cheesy as hell, but this particular diaolgue caught your attention.

The scriptwriter had probably intended it as a pick-up line, but no.

You’re a doctor so you must not have a boyfriend was the story of your life. You were a resident in emergency medicine at one of the biggest hospitals in the city. Sleep was a luxury. Dating was a pipe dream at best. You had seen too many of your fellow residents try and fail to have a relationship during their residency, to think that you could pull it off.

“You on night duty today?” one of the nurses asked as he entered the break room and smiled at you. Youngjae was the sweetest male nurse around, and you had heard patients saying that his laugh was enough to heal them . He was a little too loud for your taste, but even you admitted he was an angel.

“I’m not, for once,” you said with a relieved sigh. You pressed mute on the drama and picked up your sandwich. “I’m clocking out at 9 pm sharp.”

Youngjae grinned. “Going to meet a guy?”

You simply shrugged. Admittedly, you were thinking of calling Jaebum. It had been a while since you’d seen him, and the thought of his warm hands and broad shoulders excited you. Im Jaebum was undoubtedly the best sex you ever had. And it helped that he was never too busy to come over whenever you called.

Truth be told, you had never imagined yourself in a friends-with-benefits relationship. It had always been exclusive-or-nothing.

But Im Jaebum had showed you in an empty room in the corner of one of Jackson’s parties that he could make you feel things your vibrator couldn’t. Suddenly, that little piece of plastic didn’t do it anymore. You loved the way Jaebum kissed your skin, you loved his strong arms enveloping you as you fell asleep. You loved the soft, sleepy smile he gave you in the mornings as he watched you get dressed and leave for work.

Okay, so maybe you liked more than just the sex. But that wasn’t an option. You’d made it very clear to Jaebum from the start that you couldn’t date for real. You didn’t have the time to date and you couldn’t deal with the emotional instability that would come with a relationship. Jaebum had understood. He was smart and mature, the sort of guy who said very little but listened to your every word.

“Do you have a date?” you asked, watching Youngjae smile to himself as he texted somebody on his phone.

“Huh? No, no. Jackson and I set up one of our friends on a blind date last week. It must have gone well because apparently he’s seeing her again tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Ah, it’s so annoying when other people find love and we’re just sitting here.”

Youngjae nodded. “Yup, it’s pretty much a success because this guy’s been lonely as hell for a long time. Do you remember Jaebum, by any chance? From Jackson’s birthday party last year?”

You froze. The same birthday party where I had hot sex with him on Jackson’s sheets? But of course, you weren’t going to say that. Nobody knew about the ‘friendship’ you and Jaebum had. Jaebum didn’t want his friends knowing about his sex life and you’d rather not watch Youngjae and Jackson tell every single person in the ER that you were screwing their friend.

“I… I think I remember him.”

“Yeah, he’s the one we set up on the date. We hooked him up with one of the cute receptionists from the clinic.”

You couldn’t supress the burst of jealousy that hit you. Jaebum was going out on dates with other women? You hated the sound of it. You hated the idea of him with one of those ditzy receptionists. You weren’t sure if it was because he could go and date whoever he wanted while you were stuck in the hospital, or whether it was something more than that.

“He doesn’t usually date?” you found yourself asking

“Not in the last year. We thought he might have had a secret girlfriend because we found some hairclips in his room. But I guess not, since the blind dating thing is going well.”

You reached up subconsciously to touch the hairclips that you used to pin your hair up while on duty. Jaebum loved taking them off your hair and you’d lost too many to count in the last few months.

Was this the first time he’d dated since the two of you had begun your arrangement?

A horrible thought struck you.

If things went well with this girl… would he stop seeing you?

“I hope he took her someplace nice,” you prodded carefully, waiting for Youngjae to reveal more information.

“Hmm, Jackson told him to take her to that Italian restaurant near the bridge.” Youngjae glanced up at the clock and frowned. “Hey, isn’t your shift over? It’s already 9!”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yup. I was just leaving”

You didn’t even think much about what you were doing. You just naturally found yourself driving towards the restaurant that Jaebum was having his date in. You weren't sure what you would do when you got there. You just had to see it with your own eyes.

And there Jaebum was. Sitting at a corner table near the window, across from one of the pretty receptionists who had probably left work early just for the date.

If you left work early for a date, people would die.

You took a deep breath and parked your car across the road. You could still see them out of the corner of your eye: him in a light blue button down shirt and with his hair down. Your heartbeat thudded fast as you watched them smile at each other.

Does he like her more than me?

The question wouldn’t leave your mind. You just had to know. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and called him. What would he do if you asked to come over? Would he tell you that he was on a date?

You watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. He said something to his date, who smiled and nodded. Jaebum stood up and moved out of your vision, away from the table and the window.

“Hi, doctor,” he answered lightly.

Your heart skipped a beat. You had always loved his deep voice and calm tone. “Hey. Are you busy? I’m sorry for calling all of a sudden.”

Jaebum sounded amused. “When do you ever call with notice?”

You suddenly felt bad. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. It’s just… I don’t have a night shift today and I just got off work so I was wondering if you’re busy. Maybe I could come over?”

Your heartbeat thudded as you waited for his reaponse.

“I’m not at home right now,” he admitted.

You felt your heart sink. “Right. Never mind. I thought you might be busy-”

Jaebum spoke hurriedly. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m just driving home now so it’ll take me like half and hour. You can let yourself in if you get there before me.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll text you my security system passcode. Just let yourself in.”

“O-okay.”

You hung up the phone as you watched Jaebum rush back to his date. He was saying something to her urgently and she looked shocked and concerned. You watched with a heavy heart as Jaebum grabbed his jacket and rushed out of the restaurant, fumbling for his car keys.

To see you.

He walked out of that date to see you.

Nobody does that.

The thought wouldn’t leave your mind as you drove to his house. It didn’t leave your mind when Jaebum greeted you at the door with a warm smile and a gentle kiss. It didn’t leave your mind as the two of you tumbled into bed together, the action feeling too comfortable and too familiar to you.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

Jaebum’s fingers were stroking your arm gently as you both cuddled together on the bed. Your cheek was pressed against his bare shoulder and you took a deep breath as you inhaled his familiar scent.

“I know you had a date tonight.”

Jaebum’s fingers froze. “What?”

“Youngjae mentioned it. And I saw you. I was outside the restaurant when I called.” You looked up at his startled face and blurted out what was on your mind. “Jaebum, you walked out of a date because I called.”

He was silent for a long moment.

You sat up slightly and looked up at him. “Jaebum…. answer me.”

He gave you a forced smile. “Answer what? You didn’t ask me a question. You already know I left the date for you. I wanted to see you.”

You felt your stomach churn. He wasn’t supposed to be doing things like that for you. You weren’t his girlfriend. You both were just sex buddies. You took a deep breath and finally asked the question that had been on your mind all night.

“Do you love me?”

Jaebum took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. His arm around you was still, and you noticed that he was avoiding eye contaxt with you. When he spoke, his voice sounded tired. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yes, I do.”

“Don’t. Just leave it, let’s not talk about-”

“Jaebum.”

“Yes, I love you,” he replied. He looked down at you and you were shocked by the gentleness in his eyes. Jaebum lifted a hand to gently stroke your hair out of your face. “But that doesn’t change anything. I’ll give you whatever you want. I know you’re busy and you don’t want to be in a relationship right now.”

You had no idea what he was saying. “That’s not the point, if you have feelings for me-”

“My feelings shouldn’t matter to you. I wasn’t going to tell you about them until your residency was over. I’ll wait until then. I’ll wait until you have the time and freedom to see me properly.”

“But… how can I… knowing that it’s more than this to you, I…”

He leaned down and kissed you gently. Your lips lingered against his and your eyes widened as he gave you a gentle smile.

“Because you came running to the restaurant the moment you heard I had a date. You care about me more than you realize.”

Your face flushed red. “What? No-”

He chuckled. “I get it. You don’t want to deal with these feelings right now. You want to focus on your career. That’s fine with me. I’ll wait, baby.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” you whispered.

“I want to. For you.”

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

A/N: omg, the happy ending on this one was so forced, I was majorly tempted to take this down an angsty route about halfway through. I stg, you guys better specify happy endings whenever you request because my instinct always takes me to angst.

Send me more drabble requests! I think I’ll just do them for a couple of days longer. Once I get my laptop back, it’s going to be full focus on the Firework series.

P.s the opening line is from Descendants of the Sun. (Ahhh, that drama is such guilty pleasure, I love it!!)

#got7 #im jaebum #jaebum drabbles #jaebum scenarios #got7 drabble #friendswithbenefits!au

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forgotten-goddess-souls · 3 years

Text

My family has resided every summer break at Lake Conjola every year since I can remember

We go with longtime family friends, the Scott's, and their daughter Jules, has been my summer buddy for years.

We didn't talk much at school, or as much as we used to after I slowly joined the social Hierarchy and became more popular. I know that I'm going to be invited to her wedding, and she for mine if I ever decide to.

Jules had short platinum blonde hair, very pale skin and a small body. She had glittery eyes that made it look like she was daydreaming all the time and she was unashamedly her.

I was tall, with long dark brown hair, icy blue eyes and tan skin with little moles peppered on my face. My lips were alot bigger and my skin had cleared up since my diet started going better. My body was thin and curvy, and my legs were alot longer.

'Darcy! Get up!" My older brother Tristan yelled, repeatedly slamming on my door at 5am, indicating that our departure and torturous three hour journey were to begin.

And as true to the nature of early morning risers, my mother was fixing her makeup and my dad was tying his shoelace. Tristan was dressed in his usual eshay resembling attire and I was the only one that had sweats, a singlet and no bra, sloppy bun and a scowl of distain on.

The car, pre packed and washed with our surfboards tied on- was ready to go. I piled Tristan's annoying pillows between us and turned on my phone to listen to my playlist which I had handcrafted the night before.

Stopping once for gas, a bathroom break for my dad, and a drive-thru to get coffee; we arrived at Lake Conjola at 9:40.

It never changes, its the perfect anti internet old person retirement place with a lake that shone under the Australian sun.

At the front reception, I could see Fiona Schweppes- who waved at my family warmly and was a familiar since 1999.

Every year it seemed like a competition to get to Lake Conjola first every summer, The Scott's were not this year.

I took my baggage to the shared room and claimed a bunk before Tristan could, and immediately went on my phone to reply to all my friends, exactly 128 texted on snap telling that they'll miss me and how they'll keep me updated, which they did.

I was FaceTiming my friend Lilian, who was moping about her boyfriend Tyler being an ass to her. She was yelling at her mum and half ranting, I was bored and scrolling through my Insta half heartedly.

I heard a cheer and deduced that Jules and her fam were here, and switched from FaceTime to Snapchat Lilian.

I changed to suit the cold endings of weather and into my warm jumper and a pair of mini shorts, shaking my hair loose and fixing my long eyelashes with a curler.

Jules, ever the optimistic labrador, practically fled the car and raced into the arms of my parents, to which mum stumbled back with surprise and dad to look quizzically at the yet to turn 16 year old.

In my pocket I felt my vape pen (Iced Mango) slowly ride up, and itched to go to the bathroom for a minute. Tristan 'bro hugged' Mr Scott, who slapped him on the back and let out a jolly laugh at how fine of a young man he was turning to be, making sure to comment on his acceptance to Uni, and his future in Economic Business.

Mrs Scott walked out last, I noted (though I wish I hadn't) that she looked deathly tired. It was mostly due, I would later learn, that this was due to her recent job loss. A vacation was needed for her.

Jules made her way to me, trying her best to not eye Tristan, who she'd been in love with since year 5.

"Hey," She greeted, as I threw an arm around her scrawny shoulders, "Hey, ready for the pools bitch?" I said, as she wrapped her thin arms around me, as though I were a space of comfort.

We went to her cabin and helped her unpack, she'd done a small revamp and finally swapped her 'whatever fits' to a 'ALT" Style, and as we hung up her hoodies, she was taking puffs from my vape. "My mum lost her job, so this is probably gonna be the last time we come down until she gets a new one." She said sadly, I threw her a sad frown. "Hey, it'll probably only be for like, two summers, then you guys will be back and cruising around on your boat.

She half smiled, "Your parents are smart adults, they'll work it out like they always do." I added, she smiled fully, and I threw a pillow at her to stop her basically stealing my pen.

After she changed we went to the deck and caught up with my dad and Mr Scott, who were sharing a beer and cooking while Tristan and mum went with Mrs Scott to get some groceries from the small local shop just down the road where the residential beach houses were facing the lake.

We sat down and began playing a round of Uno, resulting in my dad whopping Jules and I, and the adult men to give us cruisers in celebration.

Me and Jules were on the deck chilling and drinking when Tristan burst in the deck, startling Jules that she fell off the hammock in surprise. We angrily looked up at the 19 year old as he laughed at us.

"You Moron!" I yelled throwing a stray flip flop at his head which he slapped out of the way easily.

"There's a local hockey game happening on dry ice, it's tomorrow, mum said we can all go." Tristan said, grabbing a beer from the cooler and opening his phone. He threw the cap at me and flipped the bird, to which I returned.

After a hearty brunch of salads for me, and the disgusting smell of bacon dogging me as I looked at the local busses to get to the hippie shop and buy some cheap crystals and incense.

We rode into town half an hour later, wearing jumpers and mini shorts with our hair in fresh braids thanks to Mrs Scott - who was looking much better and singing along to the radio when we left.

Tucked away from the busy mainstreet was a small shop, rounded by other shops and a mosaic tile hopscotch imbedded in the grass. It was small, with a rustic sign reading

Three Sages Universe Shop • Crystals • Tarot Cards • Incense • & More

We started to get involved with this when we were five, making positions out of mud and glitter, and trying to summon demons seemingly in retrospect for fun.

We boarded off the bus, pushing past the families and annoying the locals. I quickly found the shop, and entered the familiar surroundings. Piled on tables and shelves were millions of diffrent and interesting things. The shop only had two things locked, Crystals and ugly jewleery that was apparently real gold.

Taking out our own bags we managed in under an hour to just browse and get our hands in heaps of things; the biggest find was a star chart and surfer dude necklaces.

We brought our findings to the cashier, hidden behind a wall of lip balms and sea spray salt that tourists snap up.

Not having the heart to steal from small business, we paid for our goods and set off to find something to do before returning to tan (me) and go kayaking to the cliffs (for Jules).

We went to IGA and brought tanning oil and marshmallows for smores on the gas stove top at home.

We headed home, the bus being late that we almost had to walk the crazy length to get there. Jules was quiet, as though she were pondering something.

"Darcy, I've been thinking;" "Uh Oh." "Oh shush. I want to loose my virginity." This sudden revelation caught me off guard. "With Josh?" I asked, not picturing the SRC tightass to do it before marriage. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but he was constantly putting others down for it he may as well have became a pastor at age 3.

"He and I aren't... Seeing each other. In fact, I don't even care who it's with. As long as it's with someone I trust, then I'm ready." "Oh, right. Like a summer fling is what your saying?" I rendered, "I hear ya, but all the teenage boys at the caravan park weren't pleasant looking, they were either 12 years old or simply looking for a blowjob."

"True, what about an older guy? Like 20 or something." "Yeah I'd buy that. A cute summer fling, with no strings."

"Yeah! But a steamy, hot one. Like out of a movie..." She turned to the window of the bus and began day dreaming. "Pump your load and hit the road." "Shoot and Scoot." "Ejaculate and Evacuate."

Hearing a 'hrrmph' sound, I looked behind us and saw a woman aged a solid 45, glaring daggers at us, holding her son's ears.

The poolside was too windy to enjoy any amount of sun, and we abandoned the river because the wind swerve sure to pick up some icy water and throw it at us.

We went back to the cabin instead, and fell asleep on the lounge watching loony tunes. When we woke up it was half way to dinner, and that the mum's were day drunk already and the family were too relaxed, and Tristan was mysteriously no where to be found.

My mum and dad were up ridiculously early, playing their gospel music so loudly that the night owl Scott's groans were heard next door.

____

Missing Chapter

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underoosie · 7 years

Text

FOCUSED || Peter Parker x Reader

Anon: If you are up for it, can you write an imagine where Peter moves into the Avengers tower and he meets the reader who is an Avenger? And like maybe she gets put in charge (By Tony) to help train him to fight and they start liking each other and Tony tries to embarrass him? TYSM! ❤

Warnings: Some swear words, shitty Ton(k)y writing(ididmyfuckinbest)™, an overprotective Tonky Stork :)

Notes: sorry for taking so long buddy!! just got back to school uGh. p.s. reader has no powers she just kind of,, kicks ass. reader doesn’t hate tony it’s just their relationship :) two starks amirite?? again sorry for taking so long in the other imagine requests in advance..

You were concentrated throwing punches on a punching bag. Your forehead dripped sweat that went down to your neck and shoulders and your face was red. You finished punching the bag a few more times before you decided that was enough and you needed a little break. You just stood there trying to stabilize your breathing.

“Y/N! I want you to meet someone” your dad yelled as he entered the room and you turned your head, expecting him to come with some kind of interviewer that would ask you ‘How’s being Tony Stark’s daughter?’, ‘Are you a real Avenger?’, ‘Do you have a boyfriend yet?’. Basically, things that you didn’t bother to answer at all. This wasn’t an exception.

But, instead, your eyes laid on your dad next to a boy. A teenager, about your age. You stare at him detailedly and saw his dark brown eyes, light auburn hair, the way he stared at you too, analyzing each other, like you were some kind of masterpiece.

He was also a fan but he would for sure not begin to ask for your private life, for sure. How do you know all that? You taught yourself how to read people without even talking to each other. Well, with help of Internet.

“Who is he?” you asked your dad with a bit of curiosity. You’ve never seen another teenager boy and for being the first one, he was pretty fine.

“He’s the boy that was with us at the airport.” your dad told you like you just asked the most obvious question in the world. You cocked your head to the side, clearly still not recognizing him. “The one in red and blue costume?” your dad clarified and your brain began to remember the too talkative guy with the red and blue suit with a spider logo on his chest and back. Your dad made him the suit himself.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” you stared at him with a slight frown, waiting for him to say something else about him. He never mentioned that he was coming today and you were kind of mad about it.

“You’re going to train him. He needs to learn more than chatting when he’s fighting.” your dad smiled at you encouragingly but also sarcastically and walked out of the room with Peter following him with his eyes until he was out of his sight. After he left, for a few moments Peter just stood there awkwardly. Shit, kid. At least do something.

“Are you going to stand there all day or do I have to carry you?” you told him sarcastically and noticed the boy staring at you oddly. “Come on, I don’t bite. Unless you make me.”

“Sorry.” Peter stammered and he walked closer to you with his fists clenched on his sides and a blush on his cheeks. He had a crush on you. He was adorable. He wasn’t so bad himself though.

“I was boxing just before you came so if you want to do that that’ll be okay but if you want something else, knock yourself out.” you lazily pointed to the rest of the room and turned back to your business. Before you could start, Peter interrupted you.

“I- uh... want to train boxing with- with you,” he stuttered licking his lower lip as his mouth got dry from nervousness. “If-If that’s okay, of course.” he stepped back practically telling you that he was so scared because either your dad killed him if he hurt you or you killed him yourself if he hurt you. Either option would be less likely since you don’t kill people and your dad loves Peter like a son. Sometimes you got jealous because of how he talked all day about him.

“Alright. See those black gloves up on the shelter? Okay, grab them and put them on your long-ass noodle fingers.” you pointed at him the ‘black gloves up the shelter’ and he quickly went to grab them and got back to you in a second. You loved bossing people around. He was weird but at the same time cute. He had that spark in his eyes when you made eye contact while you spoke to him and you analyzed that almost in the instant he walked through the door.

“So I just start punching the bag?” he asked you quietly looking at your eyes the same way. Damn, this boy is beginning to like me.

“Yeah, go on. I’ll be right here doing my business.” you gave him a thumbs up and turned around to another punching bag next to his. You raised your hands and started practically hitting holes in the heavy bag. Peter watched you, completely not knowing how to do it, at all. He tried to copy your movements -kind of- but you noticed instantly that he was doing it wrong and that he could get hurt. You ran to him immediately not letting him do it again before anything could happen.

He couldn’t get hurt, you just loved to tell people what to do. You also wanted the chance to get a grip of those biceps because... damn.

"Wait, no. No, no, no, no, no. You're doing it wrong. This position would only break your spine if you turn your torso too quickly to punch." you exaggerated, of course, and he believed it, widing his eyes in fear but also, confusion. You positioned his legs further and pressed your hands on his knees telling him to flex them. You touched his well built arms and couldn't help but try and grip them softly without him noticing, though he seemed stiff at your touch and you could hear him gulping.

"Relax, man." you placed your hands in his shoulders trying to calm him down. Peter took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing his whole body.

“You ready, buddy?” you told him crossing your arms and he nodded. He tried punching the bag but instead he just gave it a fist-bump. You facepalmed yourself internally, and you closed your eyes and threw your head back in cringe.

Now, you confirmed that he never ever touched anyone (stop thinking that, kids). I wouldn’t know how to punch if I was him either. 576 web combinations, flying suit, a mini-drone and super flexibility? The boy was pretty spoiled. Even for you, Tony Stark’s daughter.

Maybe some advice would work, the same advice Natasha gave you when you first started boxing when you were around eleven years old.

"Okay, so, keep your feet grounded, almost stick them into the floor. You'll have more balance, more power, and try not to fall when you punch. And don't push it, punch it.” Peter watched every move you made and every example you made with your hands and the way you made rhythm showing him how to do it and he tried to copy every detail.

“Keep your eyes focused on the bag. You're smart, calculate every spot where you're going to hit. Think of it as a ‘real enemy’, like… I don’t know, like you’re hitting a very small, young, inexperienced, weak Steve Rogers. You know, pre-Nazi-fighting Captain America? Okay, whatever. That’s just me." he turned his head as you said and you continued, "Yeah, good. Now, keep your elbows down and your shoulders aligned, always flex your knees to keep the balance and control your breath like it’s a normal breathing.” Peter smiled at your compliment and you grinned back.

“Could you show it? In, like, an example?” he asked you with a small grin on his lips. You nodded and walked over to the bag that you were previously working on.

Left, left, left, right, jab, left, right, right, right.

Peter watched carefully and nodded. He inhaled and he copied your moves exactly or, at least, very similarly as you made them.

You looked at his attempt to copy you surprised. You crossed your arms and you had a smug grin in your face as you saw the boy trying to impress you. Yes, impress you. This boy was so obvious you wondered how nobody in his school already knew his secret identity yet.

Peter kept doing your improvised rutine two more times when your dad came into the room again, and you both jumped from the sudden noise.

“So, how’s it hanging? Get it? Hanging?” Tony walks through the door with two cups of coffee in his hands, the typical Stark smug smile plastered in his face.

“Oh my god, that’s so old” you groan at his stupid pun.

“I just came to give my Princess her coffee or else she’ll all asleep in her training.” he wrapped an arm around you and you pouted at the sound of the nickname ‘Princess’, just grabbing the coffee from his hand taking a sip of it and burning your tongue, quickly getting the cup out of your mouth and sharply swallowing the burning liquid, feeling like your throat burned. You feel your tongue itching from the burn.

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” your dad instantly told you and Peter heard this, walking to you too.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Peter took off his gloves and Tony stared at him oddly. You nodded at Peter, thankful at his politeness.

“I just burned my tongue, I don’t need any doctors here, dad. Personal space.” you pushed your dad with your free hand a little inches away feeling overwhelmed by his constant worrying. However, you didn’t mind Peter’s closeness and you thanked him for worrying about you but you clarified that you just burned your tongue and that it wasn’t a big deal. And Tony got jealous. Nice.

“You push me away but you don’t push him away? Rude.” he rolled his eyes with a sassy tone.

“You get to check on me all day, don’t be a crybaby.” you couldn’t believe this man sometimes. Peter was just concerned.

“No, yeah, I understand, I’ll leave you and your ‘boyfriend’ alone.” Jesus Christ this man.

“Mr. Stark, I was just checking on her…” Peter looked up at him with an apologizing look. If his idol kept his resentment towards him he would fall apart.

“Okay, I’ll give you a little advice for when you flirt with girls: don’t.” he faked a smile. This man was unbelievable. “Guess what, checking on her is my job, Webhead. So keep your arachnid underwear on, okay?” your dad said threateningly but also with his confident and sassy tone, pointing a finger at him.

“What the hell-” you started giggling quietly, covering your hand to avoid either of the men noticing you. “Just get out of here, we’re- we’re training” you said between laughs almost spitting the coffee still in your hand all over the floor. Peter was blushing hard and you were red from the contained laughter. Peter soon began to laugh as well, you had a really contagious laughter.

“I’ll keep an eye on you two. Especially you.” Tony pointed his index and middle finger from his eyes to Peter and walked off.

The second he disappeared you couldn’t keep your laughter in anymore and Peter began to laugh too, his blush soon fading now that he got more confidence around you, although you both got your heads red and your stomachs ached from laughing so hard.

#spiderman imagine #spiderman: homecoming #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man imagine #spider-man x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel imagine #tony stark #tony stark imagine #TONKY STORK #SPOONEY MOON #this is shitty i'm sorry #i try my hardest i hope this gets at least 100 notes

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